But Faith had left her out of the story. Was she holding out for more money, or was she afraid she would incriminate herself if she spoke of what Soleil had been put through? Did her mother have an even worse kind of hell waiting for her? Not for the first time, Soleil contemplated killing her mother. She didn’t want to spend the rest of her life in jail, but Faith had already ruined her life anyway. Soleil couldn’t escape the nightmares. A little girl crying because she was frightened, having her fear answered by a slap in the face or a punch in the stomach. Nameless, faceless grown men pushing their way into a pre-teen body.
How much more damage would Faith do? Soleil looked at the picture again. She wanted to destroy it, but something held her back.
A loud knock on the door startled her. She looked through the peephole at her mother, dressed in a shiny leather jacket. If only she had a gun.
“Open this door, bitch, I know you’re in there!” Faith continued to pound the door as she yelled.
Soleil sighed and rolled her eyes. By now her neighbors were used to the infrequent visits from her mother, but Soleil knew she would never get used to them. She put on the security chain and opened the door slightly. “Yeah, Faith, what is it?”
It was obvious from her bloodshot eyes she had been drinking. She twirled around, showing off the coat. Her short hair was dyed a brassy blonde. She was junkie thin. When she smiled, Soleil saw she was missing some teeth. “How do you like my new jacket, Soleil?” She folded the collar so Soleil could read the designer label.
“How much did you get?” Soleil knew that whatever money Faith had gotten for her “true confession” to National Tattletale was already history.
“Enough to buy this Dolce and Gabbana jacket!” She twirled again, but the twirl quickly turned into a stagger. “And enough to have a little party with!” She grabbed at the chain on the door. “Aren’t you going to invite your mother in for a little visit?”
Soleil removed the security chain and opened the door. She looked at the tall, thin woman with the slanted eyes who she used to think was the most beautiful woman in the world. Faith smelled like a brewery, in spite of the smell of expensive leather wafting from the jacket. Soleil knew she wouldn’t have the jacket very long. She would either sell it, misplace it or give it away. Just like she had done with her daughter.
Faith fell into Soleil’s leather chair with a loud crunch as the two types of leather collided. She smiled at Soleil.
Soleil eyed her mother from across the room. She had to say something. “Why did you make up those lies?”
Faith put her hand to her forehead, then took it away quickly. She looked at Soleil. “What lies? I didn’t tell any lies. I just told the truth, as best as I could remember it.”
“How could you say that about Lucy and Ricky?”
Faith affected a Desi Arnaz accent. “Lucy and Ricky?” She laughed. “I didn’t make that up. That’s true. Ricky told me. You didn’t know your big brother was fucking your big sister, did you? Sweet little Lucy, nothing but a big whore, just like her mother. Just like you.”
“Why are you here, anyway? What do you want?” Soleil knew the answer. Faith always wanted the same thing.
Faith sat up in the chair and pointed her finger at Soleil. “You better give me part of that seven million dollars, cunt! Or I’ve got more stories I can tell.”
Soleil stood up. “I’m not giving you a damn thing. Why should I give you anything? What have you ever given to me, except a fucked up life?”
Faith stood up. “I’m your mother, that’s why! I gave you life!”
“Fuckin’ thanks for nothing, then!”
Faith looked at Soleil, and then looked around the room. She saw the family portrait that Soleil had placed on her bookshelf. From where she stood she could reach for it. She picked it up and threw it at Soleil.
Soleil ducked as the glass in the frame shattered behind her. She gritted her teeth in anger. “GET THE FUCK OUT OF MY HOUSE!”
Faith smiled evilly at her. “I’ll be back soon, little one. Back for my money.” Soleil followed her as she walked shakily to the door. She reached out and tousled Soleil’s dreads. “Say hi to your sisters for me.”
Soleil pushed her hand away. Faith’s touch was slimy and cold, like the reptile she was. She held the door open and stood behind it, making it a barrier between them. As soon as Faith’s shoes crossed the threshold, she slammed the door.
“I’ll get money from you somehow, Soleil. I always do,” Faith shouted as she walked down to the ground floor from Soleil’s second floor apartment.
Soleil got the broom and swept up the broken glass. She took the picture out of the broken frame and placed it on the shelf. She still couldn’t bring herself to throw it away.
Lucy
Lucy lay in the dark in her old bedroom, the bedroom where she had spent her teenage years. The sedative Mariah had given her had worn off. Lucy remembered the last few hours in a haze. They were some of the worst hours of her life. After she had read the article in the National Tattletale, she had fainted. When Mariah revived her, she couldn’t look her mother or Eve in the face. But she saw the strange look Eve had given her, a look of confusion and revulsion. Lucy wished she were a teenager again, wished she had never left this room, wished she had never grown up.
There was a soft rap at the door. “Lucy, honey, it’s your mother. Can I come in?”
Lucy didn’t know what she would say to Mariah. “No, I’m all right. I just want to be alone.” Lucy didn’t want to hurt her mother. What would she think if she told her the truth?
Mariah opened the door a crack anyway. She frowned when she saw Lucy crumpled up on the bed like a child. Her eyes were red and her hair stood up as if she were in a horror movie. “You know I’m here for you, Lucille. I’ve always been here for you and I always will be, no matter what. You know I would do anything for you,” Mariah said soothingly. “If we all stick together, we’ll get over this.”
Lucy didn’t answer, only pulled the covers over her head. Mariah waited a few moments, then closed the door and went back downstairs.
Eve
Eve couldn’t get the image of Lucy and her only brother making love out of her head. The image filled her with disgust. Was it true? Would either of them have done such a hideous, abominable thing? It was against nature, with both of them having the blood of the same father coursing through their veins. It was unsettling enough to see a nude photo of her father in a national magazine, but the thing about her brother and her half-sister was what really got to her.
It was late. Eve sat on the sun porch, listening to the ocean waves that were almost invisible. The house was quiet. Eve could faintly hear Mariah upstairs talking to Lucy, but she heard no sound from Lucy’s room.
Mariah’s private phone rang. Mariah had left the cordless on the sun porch. Eve reached over and picked it up immediately, anything to get those images out of her mind. “Hello?”
“I guess that you have seen it, huh?” It was Soleil.
“It’s like a mental institution here—or a bomb shelter.” Eve was surprised that she was relieved to hear Soleil’s voice.
“That bad?” Soleil didn’t sound so good herself.
“Lucy and I were in Santa Monica when she saw the paper. She started throwing up. I had to drive back here. Then when we sat down to look at it, Lucy fainted. Mariah revived her, gave her a sedative and she went to sleep. Mariah is upstairs checking on her now.” Eve pulled the knit throw over her shoulders as she shivered. She looked towards the living room, but didn’t see Mariah. “Soleil, do you think that it is true?” she whispered.
“What?”
“About Lucy and my brother?” The words left a sour taste in her mouth. “Do you think they were lovers?”
“How in the hell would I know?’
“Did you ever see them together?”
“No. Did you?”
“But why did Ricky die in San Francisco? Why was Lucy the one that found him? And Lucy’
s reaction—something must have happened.” Eve’s voice increased in pitch as she voiced the question that had been nagging at her. What did Lucy have to do with her brother’s death?
“Well, how would you have reacted if someone had accused you of fucking your own brother?” Now Soleil was getting agitated.
“I have to know what happened.”
“No, you don’t, sister. It is really none of your damn business what went on. He has been dead for five years, and nothing is going to bring him back. So what good does it do you to know one way or another? If it happened, it happened. And whatever happened was between Lucy and Ricky and has nothing to do with you.”
Eve couldn’t believe what she was hearing. “You’re crazy, too!”
“Get off of your morality trip! Who are you to judge anyone else? If Lucy wants you to know what happened, she’ll tell you! Just leave her alone.” The edge to Soleil’s voice was unmistakable. “Can I speak to Mariah now?”
Eve answered back coldly. “Like I said before, she’s upstairs with Lucy.”
“That’s where you should be, if you had any sense. I’ll call back later.” Soleil hung up abruptly.
Were they all crazy out here? Eve knew that she had to get out of here, money or no money.
She jumped when she heard Mariah walk up behind her. “How is Lucy?” she asked flatly.
Mariah sighed. “She still won’t talk to me. I don’t know what to think. This isn’t like Lucy. We have always been able to talk about anything.” Mariah had a scarf tied around her long braids.
“Soleil just called. She wanted to talk to you.”
Mariah looked like she wanted to cry. “It’s late, I’ll call her tomorrow.” She put her hand on Eve’s shoulder. Involuntarily, Eve cringed slightly. Mariah looked at her. “Is there something you want to say, Evelyn?”
Eve looked at the pain in Mariah’s eyes. “No, not now.”
Mariah sighed again. “If Lucy has something to say, she’ll say it when she is ready.”
Eve couldn’t take her eyes off of Mariah. “But don’t you want to know?”
Mariah stared back. “No.”
Eve shook her head. They were all crazy.
Lucy
Five years ago Lucy had been living in a cute studio apartment in one of San Francisco’s funky Victorians. The apartment was a converted attic, not a great place to be in a city famous for its earthquakes, but Lucy had loved it nonetheless. She had moved there a few years earlier, right before she graduated from Stanford. Even though she was born and bred in Los Angeles, San Francisco had a character about it that she loved.
One evening Lucy was sitting in her apartment listening to music and reading when she heard a knock at the door. She didn’t have a peephole, so she cautiously opened the door.
“Surprise!” Ricky Shelton had stood smiling at the door, holding a bunch of flowers.
Lucy had blushed in spite of herself and gave her brother a big hug. “Ricky! What are you doing here?”
“I wanted to see your place. A friend was driving up here for the weekend, so I got a ride with him.” He peered into the room. “Aren’t you going to invite me in?”
Lucy smiled and stepped aside. She felt a shiver of delight at seeing Ricky again. Since he had moved to California after Grandma Shelton’s death, Ricky had visited Lucy irregularly. He had visited her at home and showed up at her college dorm a few times. Everyone admired the tall, handsome young man who was the spitting image of his famous father. They had fun together, going to concerts, clubs and parties. Lucy never used Mik’s name to get into places, but Ricky did not share her hesitance in that area. They had seen the best bands, the hippest people and the nicest homes just by dropping the name of the legendary guitarist, still admired by many younger musicians.
But there had always been an edge to their relationship, an undercurrent never discussed.
As they had talked and caught up on old times, Lucy wondered if Ricky had made arrangements to meet up with his friend tonight, or if he planned to spend the night at her apartment. Her uncomfortable thrift store couch was all she could offer him.
They had talked late into the night, after ordering pizza and watching some of their favorite horror movies on Lucy’s small television. Ricky accepted the offer to sleep on the couch. Lucy pulled down her Murphy bed on the other side of the room and excused herself while she went to the bathroom to change. She put on her favorite short pajamas, the Joe Boxer ones with the cows on them. She tousled Ricky’s hair as she passed him and went to bed.
Lucy woke up with a start when she felt someone in the bed with her. As she lay frozen on her side, she had felt something touching her leg. She caught her breath when she realized that it was Ricky’s erection. She tried to push herself into a sitting position, but he placed his arm around her, holding her down.
“Shhhh…. Lucy,” he whispered in her ear. “You know that you want this.” She could feel his silky hair on her neck as he kissed her back.
“No.” She tried to struggle, but he held her tightly with his arm. She started to breathe deeply, frightened of what might happen.
“You know that you want me; you always have. Just like I have always wanted you. You know I love you.” She could feel his warm breath in her ear.
As he slid his tongue into her ear, he released his tight hold around her waist. The arm moved lower, and she could feel his fingers caressing her soft inner flesh. As he softly stroked her, she willed her body not to respond, but she could not stop the automatic reactions to arousal. She started to cry.
She wanted him to stop, wanted him not to voice the attraction they had felt for each other since they were children. He was so much like their father.
He started to whisper a song in her ear, “Lucy in the Sky with Diamonds,” the song her father always sang to her…
“NOOOOO!” Lucy screamed at the top of her lungs and leaped out of the bed….
Lucy woke up with a start into the darkness of her old bedroom in Malibu. The dream had been so real, just like the arousal she felt. She pulled a pillow over her head to muffle the sounds as she started retching again.
Eve
Eve couldn’t stand it here any longer. She had to get back to Pittsburgh. As she took a shower in the morning, she vowed this would be her last day in California. She didn’t care about the money. She didn’t care about no damn concert. She wasn’t a prude, but she drew the line at incest.
She went downstairs to another perfect Malibu morning, but she didn’t care. She was ready to see the clouds and hills of Pittsburgh again. Instead of the ocean, she wanted to see the three rivers.
Mariah’s private phone rang. She didn’t answer it, because she didn’t want to get into another argument with that crazy Soleil. The phone continued to ring. She wondered where Mariah was. She assumed that Lucy was still in bed.
The answering machine came on in the living room. Eve hovered nearby to hear the message.
“This is Attorney George Lieberman for Evelyn MacRae.” Eve grabbed the phone.
“This is Eve.” What could DeSalle’s attorney want with her?
“I have someone in my office that wants to see you, a Mr. Bradley MacRae, your ex-husband. He states since the divorce between you was finalized after the death of your father, as your spouse he is entitled to alimony from you. He wants to reopen the conditions of your divorce, as he feels you withheld knowledge of your inheritance from him when the property settlement was made.”
Eve ran her fingers through her still wet hair. “That’s ridiculous! We had a no-fault divorce. We didn’t have a property settlement.”
“Mr. MacRae says he would like to discuss this in person. Could you come down here this afternoon? Mr. MacRae says he will not leave until he sees you.”
Eve flushed with anger. “I’ll be there at one.” She didn’t know how she was going to get from Malibu to Beverly Hills.
“I’ll see you then.” Lieberman hung up.
“That bastard!
” Eve shouted to the room. She felt her stomach turning in anger and disgust. Now she knew how Lucy had felt yesterday when she saw that magazine. No wonder she threw up.
Chapter Six
Eve
It looked like Eve would have to stay in California at least one more day. She wondered how she was going to get to Beverly Hills. What in the hell did Brad think he was doing, trying to get money from her? That two-timing sleezeball had no business asking her for anything.
She needed some coffee. Mariah always seemed to have her expensive Cuisinart coffeemaker set to have hot, strong coffee ready first thing in the morning. When Eve went to the pot, she saw that one cup was already missing. Maybe Mariah had a class to teach that day.
As she poured a cup, she heard Lucy descending the stairs. She sat down at Mariah’s retro-style breakfast nook and watched Lucy over her steaming cup.
Lucy looked like hell. Her face was pale and wan. Dark circles made half moons under her eyes. Her hair was brushed back in a ponytail and she wore no makeup.
Eve felt that she had to say something. “Coffee’s ready.”
Lucy glanced at the black machine. “That thing’s always on. I think that Mariah has stock in that company.” Lucy smiled weakly and looked at Eve.
Eve put her cup down abruptly. The look in Lucy’s eyes gave her chills. There was no light, no life. She looked like what she imagined a war survivor would look like. When Lucy smoothed her hair back, her hands were still shaking. What did it all mean?
There was no way that she could ask Lucy to take her to Beverly Hills. “Is Mariah here?” Lucy’s room was closer to Mariah’s than hers was.
“No, I heard her leave early this morning.”
“I have to be at Lieberman’s office by one o’clock,” Eve said after a few moments of silence.
Lucy showed a faint spark of interest. “Why?”
“Brad’s here.”
“Brad?”
“My ex-husband. He wants some of the money. He told Lieberman that he is entitled to part of my inheritance because our divorce became final after he died.” Eve still couldn’t say his name. She hated what this DeSalle person had done to her life.
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