“I didn’t apply for a scholarship.”
“You can’t apply for this scholarship. Two St. Leo Alumni need to apply for you.”
“Who?” I couldn’t imagine anyone who would do this for me, much less two of them. Also when did this happen? Things like this do not just materialize overnight on a whim.
“Your boss and a Real Estate lawyer you recently met.”
“Nothing is free, everything costs something. What is this going to cost me?”
“Nothing directly. Mary Roebling was the first female governor of the American Stock Exchange, not to mention one of the first female bank presidents for the Trenton Trust Company. Also an early St. Leo Alumni which I expect you to be.” She’s not smiling now. “It is expected that recipients of these scholarships will maintain the highest GPA. Understood?”
“Yes Ma’am.” Usually I call her Beverly, but when she gets into this mode I always switch over to calling her ‘Ma’am’.
“I expect a great deal from you Sarah. Do not disappoint me, or yourself. This is an opportunity for you to have what you want. All you have to do is seize it. After you graduate with a BA I will introduce you to some other Alumni. Also, while not strictly required, it is expected that after you complete your degree and find gainful employment, you will make donations to the scholarship fund from time to time. Which of course is fully tax deductible. That way you can ‘pay it forward’ and help others out as well. Any questions?”
She walked me out of her office and started to shut the door and return to whatever she was doing before I walked in. I was in shock. In the doorway I stopped and said “Thank you Beverly, I won’t let you down.”
“See that you don’t.”
“This is why you said I would need to know Mr. Wendell isn’t it?”
That’s when she got that smile again.
“Oh no. You need him for something else entirely.” Then she shut the door.
‘Damn it.’
Chapter Four
Of course I had to tell Ann right away. I was at her place raiding the fridge while she was getting ready for work. She took everything in and only asked a few questions. Then she stopped what she was doing and stared at me.
“Who ‘is’ Beverly?”
“My boss. You know that, you met her a couple of times.”
“No. What I mean is ‘Who’ is Beverly?” This time I caught what she meant. “I don’t know why she has this much interest in you. Not that you are not interesting.” Thanks “But she is investing a lot of time and resources in you and your future. Do you know why?”
I had to think about this for a minute. My Spidey senses caused me to wonder for just a moment who Beverly really was and if she might bring a danger to my life. She could easily do so by potentially exposing my secret that even Ann doesn’t know.
While she doesn’t know all of the details I am certain that were she to focus on things then it wouldn’t take long for her to really find things out.
Things like how did I come to own three duplexes? Also how do I have almost an extra $2,000 a month coming in? Then there is the awkward question of where the previous owner is? These are all darn good questions that I hope to never have to answer, especially in a court of law.
Time for those thoughts later, for now all I said was “Not sure how to answer that. From the first time I met Beverly she has been good to me and I have tried to follow her advice on things. She helped me get a car and invest in an IRA. She helped me learn what I needed to do to purchase these duplexes legally and go to school. She helped me find work in this field not to mention…”
“Make these purchases legal?” Oh crap, open mouth insert foot “Why wouldn’t they be legal? Didn’t you tell me that your dad owned them? If he sold them to you wouldn’t he know how to make them legal? You never talk about him, is he local? What does he do for a living?”
Saying that these duplexes belonged to my ‘dad’ was of course a lie. I didn’t know Ann at the time I said that. It was the only way I could explain taking over and running the three duplexes. Since then I have done everything I can think of to make the duplexes legally mine. (Technically they still aren’t) However if someone was really digging deep into the ‘way and how’ that I acquired them I would have difficult questions to answer.
Not to mention the questions about where the actual owner is. I know exactly where the child molesting bastard is that owned these properties. I am the one who dug his grave near the side of a back country road. Which incidentally was far too good a grave for him.
But this is something I did not want Ann to know. I hate lying to her but I would hate to lose her love for me even more. So I guess I have to keep lying.
“He and I are not what you would call close. I think the proper term would be ‘estranged’. There were some problems that I don’t want to think about, you understand.”
“Yes I do. That is how I am with my father too.”
“Does he know what you do for a living?”
“He doesn’t know if I am dead or alive and could care even less.”
Bummer. Time to change the subject and quickly. “So have you finalized the Christmas menu yet? I still say it is not too late for us just to order Chinese.” That’s when I had to duck. What is it with her and throwing pillows at me?
* * *
I spent the rest of my free time that weekend reviewing next semester’s courses again. I wanted everything to be perfect. The same way I want to be ‘The Perfect Employee’ for Beverly. I did go shopping with Ann to get a big ham and all the fixings for Christmas dinner. I only have a small dining table and the guest list keeps getting bigger and bigger. We decided to set it up as a buffet and bring extra chairs from Ann’s place to make it a ‘help yourself’ kind of thing.
Rico said he had some folding lawn chairs he could bring over too. If that is not enough there is always the floor. When the crowd comes over for a ‘Monday Night Madness’ half of us usually end up sitting around on the floor anyway.
Ann is amazingly good in preparing meals and in knowing what to do, and not to do, for social events. Me, not so much. I try to follow her lead on these things. We all have our strengths and weaknesses.
Her question of what Beverly really wanted from me is still pinging around in the back of my head. But all thoughts concerning Beverly had to wait. Christmas diner needed to be worked out.
Dave’s main job is working on construction crews. He only does security as a part time gig about twice a week. I have been to his place a couple of times, but his apartment comes complete with two other roommates. Granted they’re both nice guys but I don’t like watching a movie and making out on the couch when there is an audience. It doesn’t bother some folks but it makes me feel vulnerable, no matter how nice they are. Guess I am just strangely prudish about that.
Our guest list kept getting bigger and bigger, guess everyone wants somewhere to go that day. We had to go back and get a second ham from the store, plus some other stuff to make sure we won’t run out of food. We also told the guys to bring more booze. After all some things are important.
Supposedly there is a marathon on TV with a bunch of ‘Christmas Classics’, not sure what they mean by that. But everyone else understood it so I just went along with the group. It is times like these that I wonder just how much different my early upbringing was from other people’s. Exchanging presents was not something we did but I know others enjoyed it.
Martha Stewart hasn’t got anything on Ann in the kitchen. She came by early Christmas morning and began cooking up a storm without even a pause for morning coffee. How can anyone do that? I offered to help and was first placed on cookie detail. Somehow some of them disappeared when they came out of the oven. Ann asked where they went (as if she didn’t know) so I called poor unsuspecting Dave into the kitchen. Pointing to him with a sideways nod of my head I simply said “Dav
e. You need to explain something to her. Don’t try to deny it.”
Then I ducked out of the room with a handful of ill-gotten loot behind my back, still warm from the oven. All I can say is “I did not choose the cookie thief life. The cookie thief life chose me.”
When Ann let me back in the kitchen, she made sure the rest of the cookies were stashed in a secret location. (Some people are just so suspicious) Ann handed me an instrument, pointed to a pot of potatoes and said to “Get to it.” I just looked at her, looked at this thing in my hand, and then looked back at her again. We stared at each other for a second and she said “You’ve got to be kidding me.”
“What is this and what am I supposed to do with it?” I really did not have a clue.
She stared blankly at me. “Seriously?”
Feeling kind of funny about this now because I hate it when there are things that I simply don’t understand. I could only look at her and wait for her to tell me what to do.
“It’s a potato masher.”
“Okay.” There has to be more to it than this.
“How do you think they make mashed potatoes?”
“Pour the powder from a box, stir it a bit in a bowl of water, then use the microwave. How else are you supposed to do it?”
She stared at me a minute more to see if I was kidding. Then demonstrated what had to be done to make ‘real mashed potatoes’. It is something I never wondered about before. I felt kind of dumb for not knowing what I guess is common knowledge. Ann and I had very different upbringings.
* * *
Ann couldn’t believe at first that Sarah really didn’t know what a potato masher was. ‘Did her mom not teach her anything?’ She had grown up helping her own mother work in different diners. When she got older she worked in the kitchens herself doing all of the food prep and cooking.
When her mother passed away her father was ordered by the state to take her in. Ann tried to win his love by doing everything around the house including the laundry, cleaning and cooking. Her father’s new wife always insisted that every meal Ann made be from scratch, nothing canned. She also criticized every effort Ann made to try and please her. As she looked back Ann realized her efforts were doomed to fail from the start. But she had always kept trying.
* * *
All of the kitchen chores were done just as our guests began to arrive. Ann had baked several deserts to go with ice cream. But I noticed she was keeping an eye on the cookies. (She is so distrustful)
I made sure that everyone had a drink or two so all of us were feeling no pain. Finally Ann decided it was time to eat and announced in a loud voice “Merry Christmas to all! Now come join the feast!”
Dave and I ended up sitting on the floor, our backs to the wall with a full dinner tray between us. That tray was filled with everything you could think of. I do not know if I have ever tasted ham like this before. My god it was delicious! Ann apologized that the rolls were store bought saying she would have needed two ovens to do everything right.
I would have made a comment but my mouth was too full. I wanted more of this delicious meal but my belly was so full it was beginning to hurt. I knew it would be awhile before I could even think about eating dessert.
Ann looked around with a self-satisfied smile. Some people tried half-heartedly to go for seconds but most of us were too stuffed from the first serving. Both Dave’s and my plates had been filled to over flowing the first time. People chatted with each other and the ‘Christmas Classics’ were playing on the TV in the back ground.
I have never had it like this. Never before have I had a place I could invite people to. Never had any friends before for that matter. Now I have Ann as my new self-proclaimed sister, Rico as a protective big brother, and a good man named Dave sitting beside me. I have money in the bank with more coming in and a good future, job wise, in front of me. This is truly the happiest I have ever been in my entire life.
I think it must have been the booze because I began to get a little teary eyed. Ann noticed and played it off by saying “I need to talk to you for a minute.” She pulled me to my feet, while Dave helped by pushing up on my butt. (Typical male.)
We went in my room and closed the door. Ann said she wanted to know what was wrong. All I could do was hug her and try to explain how happy I was. She held me a little tighter saying she felt the same way. She helped me freshen up and get myself back together before we went back to the party.
Rico was watching from across the room. Ann gave him a slight nod to let him know everything was all right. It is strange not sitting right next to Rico at parties, but I am with Dave now and that could get complicated. I am still the only woman Rico wants to hug both coming and going in these get togethers, Ann too of course, but that’s different.
Speaking of Dave, where is he? Our dinner tray was gone so I figured he took it to the kitchen to clean, He was in there all right, scraping the remains of our feast into the trash. Being the good boyfriend that he is. There was also a blond standing a little too close to him. She was sticking her overly large chest out in his direction and trying to establish eye contact with him. Bitch.
My good mood vanished in the wind. Something else was replacing it. Something dark. Rico came up behind me and wrapped me in his arms giving me a squeeze that could probably have broken someone’s back if he put his full strength into it. He said out loud how much he loved me and wished me a “Merry Christmas”, but in my ear he whispered “Don’t react, just watch.”
He kind of guided, well let’s be honest. He carried me over to where he had been sitting. From this vantage point we had a full unobstructed view of the kitchen. The two of us sat down and watched. Dave always kept the trash can between them. Good Boy. I saw her try to hand him a piece of paper. Her phone number? It is a good thing that Rico still had his arm around me because I am not a woman who accepts some big boobed Bimbo coming into my house as a guest and then trying to pick up my man.
Dave just emphatically shook his head ‘No’. His body English also changed, I could tell he was getting upset. A few minutes later he looked around and spotted the two of us. After grabbing beers for Rico and himself, plus some wine for me, he sat down on my other side. Rico whispered in my ear. “Don’t stare, never give away the fact that you’re angry.” I knew he was right, but I was choking everything down just the same.
Ann caught on to what was happening but nobody else seemed to notice. I was sitting there concentrating on my breathing. I was also thinking that I should have known something bad was going to happen and spoil things, it always does. Some days it is definitely harder not to commit a felony than you would think.
I stayed there tightly sandwiched between my two men. Whenever one of them moved his arm from around my shoulders the other would casually replace it with his own. Not a bad place to be, all things considered, while Ann took up the slack playing hostess to everyone. She even pulled out a heaping plate of cookies and was serving them to all the folks there. Although somehow she mysteriously passed me by. (Obviously that was some kind of oversight on her part.) When the blond was lifting her glass of wine to take a sip Ann ‘accidently’ bumped into her and the red wine spilled on to blonde’s white silk top.
It was all I could do not to break out laughing. ‘I love that girl’. Ann apologized and told Blondie that if she went home and soaked it in club soda immediately the stain would come right out. Blondie left in tears. I felt better after that. Not to say I was done with her if we crossed paths again but for now, for today, I am walking away from it. Bitch.
Our friends Cindy and Phil stayed to help clean up. (Bless their hearts) We offered them left overs to take home but they declined saying their refrigerator was already full. Hooray, more for us! When everything was done the boys were sent off with several plates of goodies. (Still can’t find where she hid the rest of the cookies) There was enough wine for each of us to have another glass then
it too was gone. When we saw them to the door the skies were just opening up and giving us a Christmas present consisting of a torrential rainfall of biblical proportions. We waved goodbye to everyone as they pulled off.
When we went back inside and closed the door Ann and I locked eyes and the venom in her voice was surprising, even to me.
“That cheap bitch! Who in the hell does she think she is?”
“Where does she work and why was she here? I didn’t invite her, did you?” I can feel that I am still not done with this bitch.
“Hell no. She works at Hooters with Dawn. We said the invite was for anybody so I guess she took us up on that.” After carefully rinsing her glass in the sink. “She is also a navy wife and her husband is on a six month deployment.”
“I was willing to wait six years for Jason and she can’t wait six months?”
“You know who else she was hitting on when she first got here? Rico.”
I almost lost it then. “Bull shit!”
“Oh yeah. She was rubbing her hands up and down his arms and asking if he worked out. Then she said something about how she wished some guy would show her how to work out.” Ann was livid like I have never seen her.
“This bitch is toast. No woman gets to touch Rico like he was a toy.” Fighting internally to keep at least semi-calm. “Rico is gay, and even if he wasn’t he is off limits to bitches like her.”
Her anger was beginning to fade a little. “You know why the guys were holding you back don’t you?”
“So I won’t give her a beat down she will never forget, along with the scars to prove it.”
“Well yes. But also because we didn’t want to ruin the party for everyone because of one dumb blankety-blank.” Yes, she actually said blankety-blank. “Everyone else was having a good time and it gave them happy memories. Sometimes those are awful hard to find in this world.”
“Okay, you’re right. Also I am a little bit tipsy at the moment so I am going to bed.”
Opening the Door Page 7