I turn to her and force a smile. “Hi Regina. It’s nice to see you again.”
She snorts, but keeps her eyes from rolling. “Those boxes don’t belong here. I told you to take them to the venue. That means the place where the auction is being held, not the house where we’re staying. I’ll try not to use such big words in the future.”
“I know what venue means, I just—”
She sighs. “It’s hard for you to think of others, I know, but please remember we’re guests here. No doubt that jalopy is leaking oil on Poliahu’s beautiful driveway.”
“If it’s leaking oil, I’ll scrub it.”
“With what? Your toothbrush? Honestly, Rell, if you’d use your brain for once—just move the truck. Don’t be so dramatic.”
The front door crashes open, and Zel and Ana come tumbling out, chasing a gray tabby.
“Get him!” Zel shrieks.
“I got the rope. You tie the noose,” Ana shouts.
Noose? No way. I didn’t hear that right.
Zel lunges for the cat, but misses. “I told you I’m not doing the noose again, Ana. You have to learn how to tie it yourself.”
“But you know what happened last time, Zel. You do it.”
“No.”
The cat starts left, then jukes right, fleeing between Ana’s legs.
“You’re letting him get away!” Zel says.
“Anastasia! Drizella!” Regina shouts. “I told you to leave that filthy animal alone. You’ll get fleas.”
The cat escapes over a rock wall and disappears under a bush.
“Aw, Mom,” they chorus. “You never let us have any fun.”
Good grief. My stepsisters are monsters.
“Enough. I am not getting held up in customs again because you two have fleas.”
Zel pouts and scratches her arm. “It wasn’t fleas, it was—”
Regina holds up her hand. “Don’t argue. You want fun? Fine. Go change. Rell’s taking you to the beach.”
What?
“Me?”
“Yes, you. You’re already dressed for it in those ragged shorts and t-shirt. I hope you didn’t embarrass yourself by wearing that on the plane.”
Zel snickers. “I bet she wore that on the plane.”
Ana says, “Not in first class!”
Brats!
I look at my cut-offs and tee-shirt. “What’s wrong with my clothes?”
“Rell, the real question is what’s right?” Regina snips. “They’re hardly couture. They’re fine for cleaning house, I suppose, although I don’t really know.”
“Or going to the beach,” Ana says.
“You promised fun, Mom,” Zel says.
I look at the twins. Growing up under Regina, they really didn’t stand a chance.
It’s not their fault.
I can play nice.
“You really want me to take them to the beach?”
Regina says, “Yes. But first move the truck and sign the papers.”
“What papers?”
“Why must you question everything I say? Get a move on. You haven’t got all day.”
She spins on her heel and heads to the house.
“Girls, let’s go. Mommy has lots to do. Unlike Rell, Mommy’s busy, busy, busy. A lollygagger, that’s what Rell is. But she’s here now to take care of you.”
“Is lollygagger French for nanny?” asks Zel.
“No, dummy,” says Ana. “She’s not our nanny. She’s old Papa Watanabe’s daughter.”
“But he’s dead.”
“Yeah,” says Ana, picking at a scab on her arm. “He’s worm food now.”
“So if she’s not our new nanny, why is she here?” Zel asks.
Ana shrugs. “I dunno. Maybe she wants something.”
“My new iPhone? She can’t have that.”
Regina grabs each of the twins by the arm and hisses. “Rell is nothing for you to worry about. She wants nothing; she gets nothing. She’s just here for a couple of days, one night only, then she’s going back to school, and you’ll never see her again. Now go change!”
She marches them to the door and shoves them into the house. Pausing on the threshold, she points to the truck and then to the street before slamming the door hard enough to rattle the glass.
I close my eyes. “Two days is an eternity.”
“Meow?”
I bend down and look under the bushes. “Kitty-kitty,” I say. Gray fuzz peeps out at me. “It’s okay, sweetie. They’ve gone. I won’t let them hurt you.”
“Prraow?”
I hold out my hand, and the cat slinks over and rubs against me. I pick her up, and she melts, her purr vibrating so deeply in her chest that it tingles against my shoulder.
“At least somebody’s happy to see me.”
The cat snuggles deeper, warming me until I’m no longer shivering. I need to get my jacket out of my bag.
A red cardinal swoops by, flitting from branch to branch in the tree above me. “Look at you! You’re gorgeous,” I say. He preens and trills. I laugh. “Now you’re just showing off.” He bobs his head and shakes his tail.
A monarch butterfly lands on the roof of the truck, the black and orange patterns of his wings blurring in the sunlight like—
“Oil!”
I put the cat down and hurry to park on the street.
Jerry’s truck runs fine, but I’m not chancing it.
I only have one toothbrush.
Chapter 4
I set the parking brake, grab my jacket from my bag in the back, and walk slowly up the driveway. I hesitate, then enter the house through the servant’s side door.
“Hello?” I call.
My stepmonster answers from the dining room. “We’re in here.” She sighs. “Waiting on you, as usual, Rell. But take your time. It’s not like we’ve other, more important things to do.”
At one end of a long dining table sits three men, two in crisp aloha shirts and khakis and one in a three-piece wool suit and tie. There are stacks of papers piled high on the table and several pens lined up next to an empty chair.
Regina nervously hovers, fidgeting with her pearls.
I narrow my eyes. She’s never nervous.
On the table are official-looking stamps, seals, and ink pads. Behind the men on the buffet table are more file boxes stuffed with millions of folders.
Except for the warm wood furnishings, everything is in shades of white. White gardenias float in crystal bowls, their scent cool and clean. Snowy linens cover the table.
Even wearing my jacket, I shiver. Somehow the beautiful room comes off as cold as a mountain peak. The vibe is Hawaiian-Eskimo, something weirdly anti-tropical. Looking out the window I half-expect to see a snow-dusted coconut tree.
At the far side of the room in front of a fireplace are two chairs and a table arranged for a cozy tête-à-tête. The fireplace is big enough to roast an ox.
We need a fire to warm things up. Heaven knows we have enough paper here to burn down the house.
Twice.
Regina places her palm on the back of a chair and raps her ring against it, the sound like a judge’s gavel.
“Sit here, Rell. Let’s get started.”
I pull out the chair. It’s heavier than it looks and slides awkwardly along the thick carpet.
I sit, and the man in the three-piece suit turns to me. “Rell, we’ve met before—”
“When I was twelve. I remember.”
He continues as if I’m invisible. “My name is Michael Lucius. I’m an attorney with Lucius, Griffin, and Melton. These are my associates, Avery Me‘e and Mark Andrews. Do you know why you’re here?”
“No.”
“Yes, you do,” Regina says. “It’s your birthday.”
“It is? Wait. Are you throwing me a surprise party? Is that why you brought me to Hawaii?”
“No.”
“It’s the luau tonight! I knew the charity auction couldn’t be real.”
Regina’s lips press into a
thin white line.
Awesome. Now if I can just get her eye to twitch…
I say, “Oh, no. Did I ruin the surprise?”
The corner of her eye jumps.
Yes!
“Rell, not everything is about you. The auction tonight has nothing to do with your birthday.”
Of course not. I know better than to expect a party. But the surf camp doesn’t make sense. Charity’s not Regina’s thing.
I wink. “Got it. No birthday luau.”
Regina takes a deep breath. “You’re here to sign papers, that’s all.”
“And deliver boxes. Don’t forget that part.”
She squints and pinches the bridge of her nose. With any luck, I’ve given her a migraine.
“That’s enough,” she says. “No one likes a drama queen. You sign papers every year on your birthday.”
Yeah, in the school secretary’s office. It’s no big deal.
This feels like a big deal.
“Not in Hawaii.”
“You’re complaining about a trip to Hawaii? Unbelievable. Nothing I do makes you happy. You even disliked the convertible.”
“Yeah, thanks for arranging that. So thoughtful.”
Regina throws her hands in the air. “See? Do you see what I deal with? Clearly, this is why we’re here today, gentlemen.”
Mr. Lucius delicately coughs. “If I may? Rell, it’s exactly as your stepmother said. You’re here to sign a paper. The process today is much like what’s happened in the preceding years, but with a little more formality. Mr. Andrews is a notary. As Regina is your guardian, Mr. Me‘e and I will serve as witnesses to your signature. Everything is in order.”
Mr. Andrews nods and holds up his notary seal. “I need to see your driver’s license for my records. We all know who you are, but contracts are contracts. We must obey the law.”
For the second time today, I hand a stranger my ID and watch as he copies information from it. Stamp, stamp, sign, double-sign, date, and he’s done.
“As a Notary Public, I certify that the young lady in front of me is Rell H. Watanabe,” he says.
“Thank you, Mr. Andrews,” says Regina. “Let’s get on with it.”
Chapter 5
As I slide my driver’s license back into my wallet, Jerry’s business card falls out.
“What’s that?” Regina asks.
“Nothing,” I say, tucking it back in as my heart beats wildly. “Just a card from the rental place.”
To hide my reaction, I reach for the stack of papers nearest me. “Do I have to sign all of these?”
Mr. Lucius chuckles. “No, my dear. That would take hours. We’ve simplified it for you. You just have to sign one document.” He takes the papers from me and flips to the back where a post-it flag sticks out. “We only need your signature here. I’ve already dated it.”
I pick up a pen and scan the page.
“Mr. Me‘e and Mr. Lucius already signed the witness lines,” I say.
“Of course. Unlike you, they are sensitive about wasting other people’s time,” Regina says. “Sign and let these good people get on with their day, Rell.”
Her tone is annoyed, but her face is eerily blank.
Something’s off.
I flip a couple of pages.
“What am I signing?”
Regina rolls her eyes, but her facial expression doesn’t change. “I told you. Papers that allow me to continue to pay for your schooling. You want that, right?”
I turn and look up at her. “Smile,” I say.
“What?” she sputters.
No change.
“Smile.”
“You ungrateful little—”
No change.
“Are you upset with me?” I ask. “I really can’t tell if you’re mad or happy or sad—”
The penny drops.
Her face has been Botox’d to the max. I peer closer. That’s a new nose. The flab under her chin has definitely been tightened, too.
She’s not happy or sad. She’s annoyed as always, but plastic surgery has taken care of both the wrinkles and the emotion. Even her skin looks waxy.
Whatever.
I turn back to the document.
“Mr. Me‘e, does signing this paper allow me to graduate high school in the spring and start college in the fall?”
Mr. Lucius shoots him a look and says, “This is not a negotiation.”
Negotiation? It’s a simple yes/no question.
Mr. Me‘e says, “It allows—”
Regina snaps, “Do you want me to pay your tuition or not? That’s what it comes down to, Rell. Sign it and things go on exactly as they have before.”
“It that correct, Mr. Me‘e?”
Mr. Me‘e says, “Signing will—”
“Yes,” says Mr. Lucius. “If you sign the document, Regina can continue to pay for your schooling.”
“There are other options,” Mr. Me‘e says.
“Yes, she can be homeless. She can get a GED. She can get a job as fry cook. Or she can complete her education in comfort. It doesn’t matter to me. I try to do a good thing, and it’s turning into a mess. Typical. Sign or not, but stop wasting everyone’s valuable time, Rell,” Regina says.
“But with all these papers, it seems like—”
Regina shakes her head as she reaches over and snatches the pen out of my hand. “I’m sorry, gentlemen. This has been a colossal waste of time. Apparently, Rell feels the need to read each and every scrap of paper before signing.”
Wait a minute.
“I just want to know—”
“We told you, but, as always, you’re not listening. You’re complaining that I brought you to Hawaii instead of letting you stay at school and sign the papers there.” She turns to Mr. Lucius. “You’re right. I should’ve anticipated this. She was always such a difficult, suspicious child.”
“I am not.”
“See?” Regina says.
Mr. Me‘e says, “Do you want me to explain—”
“Lucius,” Regina interrupts, “contact her school this afternoon and tell them next month’s tuition and dorm fees can’t be paid.”
“Yes, Regina.”
Mr. Me‘e starts to speak, but Regina stops him again.
“She’s stubborn and foolish, Mr. Me‘e.” Regina waves her hand at all the mountains of paper. “There’s no way Rell can read through everything before the payments are due. As you know, without her signature, my hands are tied when it comes to disbursing funds on her behalf.”
Mr. Me’e says, “That’s true, however—”
Regina cuts him off again. “I appreciate your concern for her welfare, even if she doesn’t. Your heart is in the right place, Mr. Me’e, but if Rell insists on being uneducated and out on the street, it’s her choice.”
Mr. Lucius stands. “I think we’re done here today, gentlemen.”
Regina shakes Mr. Lucius’s hand. “Thank you again. I’ll be in touch. Rell, see them out. It’s the least you can do.”
Regina pivots and exits the room.
I look at the document.
Homeless and uneducated.
I’m not going to cry. She can’t make me cry.
Life doesn’t have to be like this.
Next year, I’m going to college. I’ll get out from under Regina’s thumb. I’ll scrub dishes and wait tables if I have to.
But first I have to graduate from high school.
The pages blur, but I manage to pick up a pen, find the signature line, and scrawl my name across it.
The men stand up. Mr. Me‘e sighs as he picks up the papers. Regina rushes back into the room.
“She signed?”
Mr. Me‘e holds it up.
“I want a copy of that for my records. Several copies, in fact,” Regina says. “Put the original in the vault.”
“Avery?” Mr. Lucius says.
Mr. Me‘e places the signed paper in his briefcase and locks it. “Consider it done. I’ll have the copies delivered tom
orrow.”
“Mommy,” says a voice, “I thought Rell was taking us to the beach.”
Zel and Ana stand in the doorway, wearing the most hideous swimsuits I’ve ever seen, all ruffles and bows.
With their frizzy hair, they look like overdressed poodles at a clown convention.
Ridiculous.
The stress gets to me, and I can’t help it.
I laugh.
“Mom!” yips Ana. “What’s wrong with Rell?”
Yips. Like a poodle.
I throw my head back and howl.
“Nothing, dear. She’s just deliriously happy to see you.” Her tone is angry, but Regina’s face doesn’t change.
Oh, man. She has resting witch face. And she did it on purpose.
I almost fall out of the chair.
Mr. Lucius reaches for the pitcher on the sideboard. “Maybe a glass of water would help?”
Laughter burns the anger and sadness away. I feel much better.
“No,” I say. “It’s okay. I’m fine.”
Snort, giggle.
I swallow hard.
Get a grip, Rell. Keep it up and the next thing you know you’ll be locked away in an insane asylum.
I rub my eyes and take a breath. “Those boxes need to get to the venue. The rental car guy told me that’s at a pavilion above Keikikai Beach. Is that a good place for the girls to swim?”
“Yes. It’s one of the best on the island,” Mr. Me‘e says.
I open my mouth and a hiccup escapes. “Excuse me. That red-eye flight was long. But flights are cheaper after midnight, right?”
The barb goes right over Regina’s head. I’ve been dismissed and forgotten like yesterday’s dishes.
It’s not worth a sigh.
“Zel and Ana, let’s give Regina some peace and quiet so she can get her work done before the party. It’s beach time. Not even paperwork can ruin a day at the beach.”
Chapter 6
The girls don’t say anything until after they climb in truck, and we head down the mountain to the beach.
“Ana says you’re not our new nanny.”
“No, Zel, I’m your big sister,” I say.
“Stepsister,” Ana says.
I shoot her a look. “Right. Stepsister. I know it’s been a long time since we’ve seen each other. I think you guys were just four—”
Fractured Slipper Page 2
