“Elise, it is true that my father has never been a very nice man, and it’s also true that he is a very proud man. My father is angry because he’s sick and can’t do for himself. Believe me, I know it isn’t easy to work with him, but I need you, please, to stay and help me.”
Shaking her head, Elise dabbed at her eyes with a crumpled paper towel.
“Please, Elise, just until I can find a replacement.”
Elise pulled her hand free of Tandi’s grasp. “No. I tell all me friends not to work here.”
“Oh, God, please, don’t do that.”
“Him will insult my friends, so I will tell.”
“Elise, I promise you, my father will not insult another living soul. Look, if you’ll stay until I get someone else, I’ll pay you a bonus for every day you’re here.”
Elise’s tears dried up instantly. She looked at Tandi guardedly. “How much bonus?”
Tandi glanced uncertainly at Daina.
Daina mouthed, “Fifty.”
Tandi went with that. “Fifty.”
“One hundred dollars,” Elise stated.
Tandi glanced again at Daina who shrugged.
“That’s a lot,” Tandi said.
“Not to work for such a mean mon,” Elise said coolly.
“Can’t argue that,” Daina conceded.
“Whose side are you on?” Tandi asked.
“Yours of course, but the woman already knows how difficult your father is to work with. She deserves the money.”
“I’m not saying she doesn’t.”
“I do,” Elise said.
“You certainly do,” Daina said, “but, Tandi, you should not have to pay Elise from your pocket. Your father caused the problem, let him pay for it.”
Tandi wasn’t about to dispute that. “Glynn has power of attorney, but he’s in Albany. I’ll speak to him in the morning.”
“I’m going home,” Elise said, starting to push away from the table.
“Elise, wait a minute,” Tandi said. “I have access to my father’s checkbook. I will pay you an additional one hundred dollars a day until I get someone else.”
Elise eyed Tandi suspiciously. “I don’t—”
“Please, Elise.”
“You will make him not talk to me?”
“He will not talk to you. I promise.”
“Good, ’cause I will leave if he talk one word to me.”
“I understand,” Tandi said, standing. “You will finish out the night, right?”
Elise stood also. “Yes, but I want my hundred dollar before I go back to that mon.”
“No problem. I’ll write you a check.”
“No. I want cash money.”
Daina coughed softly into her hand. She had to, to keep from laughing.
Tandi began to feel anxious again. “We don’t keep very much cash in the house.”
“I must have cash money. It will make me feel better when I work with that mon.”
Daina coughed twice more, making Tandi look at her. Daina quickly cut her eyes away.
“Okay, Elise, that’s fair.” Tandi felt like she was negotiating a house sale. “I will go to the bank tomorrow and have two hundred dollars in cash for you when you get here in the evening.”
“I need one hundred dollars tonight. I—”
“Elise,” Daina chimed in, “you can trust Mrs. Crawford for the money.”
“You can,” Tandi said.
“I trust Mrs. Crawford,” Elise said. “I don’t trust that mon’s mouth. Cash money make it a lot easier to do my job.”
“I know that’s right,” Daina said.
Tandi couldn’t argue Elise’s reasoning. It was sound, and she was desperate. “Okay, cash,” she said. “I’ll be right back.”
She rushed out of the kitchen to the living room where she had tossed her pocketbook onto the chair when she raced through the house. Luckily, she had taken four hundred dollars from the bank earlier. She dug down inside her pocketbook for her checkbook. What she expected to see even before opening the checkbook—a wad of twenty and fifty dollar bills—she didn’t see. Flipping back and forth between the blank checks and the check register, then looking inside the side pockets, she searched anxiously for the money she knew had to be there, but wasn’t. Not a single bill was there.
“Where is my money?” she asked aloud, dropping the checkbook onto the chair. She pulled out her wallet. Again she turned the wallet inside out. There was thirty-one dollars in all. She began pulling everything out of her pocketbook. Then turning it upside down, emptied it of everything—her lipstick tube rolled off the chair onto the floor. There was no money anywhere. There was a frightful pounding in Tandi’s chest. Her hands began to tremble. She grabbed up her checkbook, again searching through it as if she were searching it for the first time. The money just wasn’t there.
“Where the hell is my money?”
“What’s wrong?” Daina asked from the archway.
Tandi sank down onto the edge of the chair, sitting on the contents of her pocketbook. “I can’t find my money.”
“Did you lose your wallet?”
Reaching behind her, Tandi felt for her wallet and checkbook. She held both out to Daina.
Daina came closer. “There’s no money in them?”
“Thirty-one dollars. I went to the bank today. I had four hundred dollars in my checkbook.”
“I don’t understand. You have your wallet and checkbook. Are you saying that—”
“I’m saying someone stole my money.”
“Who? Did you leave your pocketbook somewhere unattended?”
Starting to shake her head no, Tandi stopped instantly. Her eyes widened as she saw in her mind’s eye, her pocketbook sitting on the chair in Brent’s bedroom. She had left it there when she went out to the kitchen to wash up. It was the only time it was out of her sight. She had gone to Brent’s after leaving the bank. But what was she thinking? Brent wouldn’t steal from her, at least she hoped that he wouldn’t. He wasn’t a thief. He had a good job and plenty of money.
“Tandi, retrace your steps from the time you left the bank. Did you—”
“Someone must have picked my pocketbook,” she said, standing. She began stuffing everything back inside.
“But how did they get the money and not the—”
“I have thirty-one dollars. What do you have?”
Eyeing Tandi suspiciously, Daina opened the flap of her pocketbook slung across her shoulder. She took out her wallet. “You know I live and breathe by the almighty plastic,” she said, opening the wallet and counting what cash she had. “Twenty-six dollars.”
Tandi threw her pocketbook back down onto the chair. “I need one hundred dollars.”
“Call Jared.”
“No.”
“Then you’re not desperate.”
“Mrs. Crawford,” Elise said from the hall. She wouldn’t even come into the living room. “You do not have cash money?”
Quickly stepping around Daina, Tandi rushed to Elise. “I have it. I just don’t have all of it, right now. I can give you fifty-seven dollars now and tomorrow I—”
“No,” Elise said, starting to turn toward the back of the house where she kept her coat and oversized pocketbook.
“Wait! Elise, I can go to the bank.”
Elise turned back. “The bank is closed.”
“Banks are never closed in New York City,” Daina said. “ATMs, honey.”
“That’s right,” Tandi agreed. “Look, I have a bank card. I’ll run to the bank and—”
“I cannot wait.”
Daina went over to Elise. “You can wait a half hour, can’t you?”
“No.”
“Okay, I have an idea,” Tandi said. “Elise, you can come with me to the bank. I can get the money and then we can stop off and get some burgers at White Castle or McDonald’s, whichever you prefer. They’re open twenty-four hours. You must be hungry.”
The sound of Sporty coughing made Elise look back
at his room. “I change my mind. The spirits no good here. Money cannot change that. It be best I leave.”
“That’s nonsense,” Daina said. “Spirits. Please.”
“Miss, be careful what you mock,” Elise warned haughtily.
Arching her brow, Daina sidled smoothly away from Elise and stood behind Tandi. “Your father is in trouble,” Daina whispered.
Tandi could see Elise was dead serious and realized money was not going to sway her. “It’s all right, Elise. I’m sorry it was such a bad experience for you.”
“Very bad,” Elise affirmed. She walked away.
Daina slid even closer to Tandi as Elise passed. “What island is she from?”
“Does it matter?” Tandi went back into the living room. “She believes in spirits, and if the ones here are bad, no amount of money will make her stay. Asking for a hundred dollars was just a way out.”
“I bet if you had it, she would have stayed.”
“Maybe, maybe not.”
“If you had called Jared, like I told you to, he would have brought you a thousand dollars, and we would have found out. I should have called him myself.”
“No, you shouldn’t have.” Tandi eased her weary body onto the sofa. The truth was, she was too ashamed to ask Jared for money, especially suspecting—no, knowing, as a fact—that Brent had to be the one who took the money. Did he think she wouldn’t miss it? Did he think she wouldn’t suspect him? How could he do that to her?
“Good-bye, Mrs. Crawford,” Elise said.
Tandi gave Elise a limp wave of her hand.
“I’ll show her out,” Daina volunteered. She scooted around Elise to get to the door.
Elise started out but stopped and looked back at Tandi. “Mrs. Crawford, burn white candles and pray the evil leave that man’s black soul.”
Tandi mouthed, “Yeah, right.” White candles? What was that supposed to do? Sure, Sporty was evil to the core, but a wispy flame from a white candle would never reach deep enough to exorcise his soul. He was a lost cause. She was wiped out from dealing with Sporty and his mess. Every muscle across her upper back ached, but the biggest ache was her pride. She had continued to see Brent even after she saw what he was, a drug addict. And more than likely, he took the money for drugs. Damn. Jared had never even taken a quarter from her and certainly he had never put her through anything as bad as drugs and bold-faced lies.
Daina sat next to Tandi. “You know what happened to your money, don’t you?”
“If you’re my friend, Daina, you won’t ask me about the money. I can’t talk about it.”
“Okay. I’ll respect that. So, what about this Brent? If you’re my friend, you’ll tell me about him. In detail.”
“If you’re my friend, you’ll wait until I feel like talking about him.”
“Touché,” Daina said. “Okay. So. Back to the bad boy of the geriatric set. What do we do about the super grouch back there?”
“As far as I’m concerned, he can pickle in his own piss. I’m not touching him.”
Daina suddenly stood. “Where’re the rubber gloves?”
“What? Daina, why—”
“Let’s just get this over with. We’re only gonna have to clean him up later. We may as well do it now before he starts stinking. Where’s your room? Upstairs? I’ll find it. I need something to work in.” Daina marched out of the room. She shouted back, “Get me a pail of water, some ammonia, a sponge, some rubber gloves, a change of sheets, oh, and a face mask, if you have one.”
Amazed, Tandi sat staring at the empty archway. Daina had never been one to sit back and wait to be told what to do. She always took charge. She was all about action. But this? Cleaning up after Sporty was the last thing she expected to see Daina do. When Michael Jared was a baby, Daina wouldn’t even change his diaper. Hell, she didn’t even clean her own house—she had a woman come in once a week. God bless her. Daina proved always to be a better friend than she had ever been to her. How lucky for her.
On her way to the stairs, Daina stopped at Sporty’s door. “Mr. Belson, I am not Tandi. If you bat an eye at me, I will shove that foul-smelling sheet down your throat so fast you won’t even know it happened. And that’s after I hog-tie your ass with dental floss.”
45
Brent’s answering machine at home repeatedly told Tandi to leave a message. That she had done twice asking him to call her—immediately. He never did. The third time she threatened, “If you don’t return every penny of my damn money, I’m going to the police.” No return call came even then. Days passed. She kept calling but slammed down the receiver the second the answering machine picked up.
Only once had she called his office. It made no sense to call again after she was told he had not worked there in well over a month. Brent had never said a word. Wasn’t that just like him? No one in his office would tell her why he had left or if there was a forwarding address. Twice she went by his apartment. There was no answer to the ringing of his bell. It was all so insane. She wanted her money but she also wanted to know how he could steal from her. If it was for drugs, then there was no question that four hundred dollars was a small price to pay to get out of the relationship. She could have lost a whole lot more in the long run.
Still, her anger with Brent never abated. When she was alone, she found herself talking to herself about what she’d say to Brent if and when she ever saw him again. “You lowlife drug-abusing bastard. How dare you steal from me. I never want to see you again in life.” Yeah, big words, a bit late.
It was one thing talking to herself, but Tandi was still too embarrassed to talk to Daina about Brent. True to her word, Daina continued to respect her privacy while continuing to stand by her. In fact, if it hadn’t been for Daina, Sporty would have pickled in his own piss every one of the three days it took to beg up another evening health aide.
The agency manager, Mrs. Rothman, did not mince her words. “This is Mr. Belson’s last chance. I have found him one last aide, and I mean his very last aide. Carline Hughes is very good with difficult patients. She is very patient. If Mr. Belson runs her out, this agency is through placing aides in his home.”
“I understand,” Tandi had said.
“I hope you do, Mrs. Crawford. Your father’s illness is no excuse for his abusive behavior.”
“Mrs. Rothman, I assure you my father will behave from now on.” When Tandi said that, she had her fingers crossed.
Since that conversation the day before, Tandi had been praying that Carline Hughes was six feet tall and weighed two hundred and fifty pounds. Thankfully, that day she would be finding out. The previous night, Daina had all but pulled out pom-poms and turned somersaults. Daina hadn’t complained one time about taking care of Sporty, but she was tired of the menial labor. The only thing she didn’t do for Sporty was cook, which was Tandi’s job.
To say the least, Tandi was truly grateful to Daina, which was why she decided to tell Daina about Brent—albeit what she told wasn’t as important as what she didn’t tell. Brent’s drug use and his stealing her money was best left unsaid as she was sure Daina would share that information with Jared. Lord knows what he’d think of her, and for the first time in a long while, she cared about what he might think. She told Daina that she had ended the relationship with Brent because she wasn’t quite sure she and Jared were through. Daina took that tidbit and ran with it. Daina began working overtime to convince her to at least talk to Jared. While she was steadfast in her decision to stay away from Jared, Tandi was beginning to feel that maybe she was the one who didn’t deserve a second chance. She was guilty of spending valuable time fantasizing about Brent when maybe there was something she could have been doing to save her marriage. No, she couldn’t talk to Jared just yet. She had her own demons with which to wrestle.
Besides, she had more pressing matters to address. She had to stay close to the house to make sure Sporty didn’t send another home health aide packing. Oh, he had not flapped his lips at Daina, and that was because Daina’
s threats carried weight, but with anyone else, he might not be so inclined to back down.
The bell rang. It was six o’clock straight up.
Opening the door for the new health aide, Tandi almost said out loud, “I hope you’re not the home health aide.” This little five feet four, one hundred and forty pound, fifty-ish something woman was the last person Tandi wanted to see standing in front of her.
“Mrs. Carline Hughes?”
“Yes,” she replied in a low, soft voice.
Oh, God. Sporty was going to eat this little woman alive. Where the hell were the big Berthas of the world? “I’m Tandi Crawford. Come in,” she said, stepping aside to let in the attractive older woman. Mrs. Hughes slipped past Tandi with her hands stuffed down in her coat pockets. Unlike some of the other health aides who boldly looked around the living room, Mrs. Hughes, her eyes lowered, didn’t look around. She seemed to be nibbling on her lower lip, and, if Tandi wasn’t mistaken, the woman was trembling.
What had Mrs. Rothman said about this woman handling difficult patients? That couldn’t be possible. No way was she going to be able to stand up to Sporty. The agency apparently had to scrape her off the bottom of the barrel to get her to come to the house because surely the word was out. Oh, well, a nursing home was only a phone call away.
“Mrs. Hughes, my father is recovering from a stroke. Have you worked with stroke patients before?”
A timid nod was Mrs. Hughes’s response.
Tandi wanted to ask, “And?” but saw that was a waste of breath. Mrs. Hughes wasn’t giving her any eye contact, which meant she wasn’t interested in conversing. Well, beggars couldn’t be choosers.
“Okay. Mrs. Hughes, why don’t I tell you about my father’s evening routine. He watches television until about midnight, which is when he drops off to sleep. I plan and cook his meals—he won’t eat anyone else’s cooking. Whatever is on the menu that evening will be on the second shelf in the refrigerator. He likes to eat at seven. He gets a bath every morning so all you have to do is give him a light sponge bath before his bedtime. Other than for doctor’s appointments and to go to the bathroom, he never leaves his room. Oh, and just so you know, he does not like to be drawn into conversation. It makes him extremely grouchy, but you don’t look like you like to talk very much yourself. Am I right?”
Distant Lover Page 26