Love Becomes Her

by Donna Hill

  The door closed behind him and he was gone.

  The sun was beginning to set when Stephanie came to herself and looked around. She’d stayed there curled in a knot on the floor like discarded laundry for hours. She’d lost track of time. Willing herself to move, she pushed up on her hands and knees and slowly stood.

  She glanced down at her nude body, the angry red bruises on her stomach and stickiness between her thighs quick and painful reminders. She shivered and not from a chill. She reached for her clothes on the floor, nearly falling over as her head spun. Holding on to the furniture and the walls, she finally made it to the bathroom. She sat down on the lid of the commode and turned on the tub. At least the hot water would wash away the remnants from the outside, but she didn’t think anything could cleanse her battered spirit.

  How could she have allowed her life to get so ugly, so out of control? She didn’t know what to do, how to fix it. Too many people relied on her and she couldn’t let them down. There was no way out. If she quit, she knew that Conrad would blacklist her. She’d never be able to work in New York or any other major city again. If she went to the board, no one would believe her, not to mention how humiliated she would feel, having to confess the extent to which she’d participated over the past year.

  She was trapped. Trapped by need, trapped by responsibility and trapped by her body. Conrad knew it and pushed all her hot buttons.

  But it had gone too far now and she was afraid. She needed a way out, but she didn’t see any open doors in her future.

  Her phone rang in the distance. She didn’t have the energy or the desire to get up and get it. She turned off the water to listen to the voice coming through the answering machine.

  “Steph, it’s us, me Barbara and us,” she giggled, obviously excited. “We’re waiting for you at my house. Hurry up. And bring your laptop.”

  Stephanie frowned in concentration. Waiting for her? What the hell for? Slowly the pieces began to fall into place and a glimmer of hope settled in her gut. Maybe a door was opening after all.

  Chapter 10

  When the doorbell rang at about eight o’clock, it was Stephanie who was the last to arrive, looking a bit frayed around the edges. Barbara kept her comments to herself as she quickly ushered Stephanie inside.

  “You all right, girl?” she whispered.

  “Yeah.” She forced a smile that didn’t meet her eyes. “Hangover. I was, uh, still asleep when you called.”

  She put her arm around Stephanie’s shoulders. “Not a problem. We were just running our mouths as usual.”

  Barbara looked especially radiant, as if she’d found the secret of the universe and didn’t want to share, Stephanie observed, but she didn’t have the energy or her usual level of curiosity to press for details. Maybe it was the hair. It was out and curled instead of tied in that ponytail she usually wore. Yeah, maybe that was it, a new hairdo.

  “Everybody here?”

  “All in the living room. Ann has some exciting news. Come on. Stephanie’s here,” Barbara announced as if they couldn’t see that for themselves.

  “What happened to you?” Ann Marie blurted out. “You look awful.”

  “Thanks,” Stephanie murmured and rolled her eyes. Ann Marie was always the one looking for a dig, but Stephanie was determined not to let her prying eyes or fast tongue get under her skin tonight. She took a seat at the end of the couch and put her laptop on the table. “So what’s with the big powwow? She leaned back against the cushions, looking from one to the other.

  Ann Marie spoke up, using her polished British accent that she employed when dealing with her realty clients. “After our discussion last night, I did some research on available property in the neighborhood and found three buildings that could meet our needs.” She pulled out three printouts from her leather portfolio and placed them on the table. “This one—” she pointed to the first picture “—is on One Hundred and Twenty-seventh Street. This one,” she indicated the next picture, “is on One Sixteen. But this one I think is the best.” She passed the picture around. “It’s a four-story brownstone just off Fifth Avenue on One Twenty-four. It has all the original details, a finished basement, an ample backyard, four bedrooms, two huge sitting rooms and an enormous kitchen. But the best news is that it is in foreclosure, which is good for us.”

  “What’s the bad news?” Barbara asked, ever practical.

  “Well,” Ann Marie dragged out. “It’s in major disrepair. There has been a lot of water damage, the electrical system must be upgraded and it needs a new roof.”

  The trio’s hopeful expressions sank. “Oh,” they chorused.

  “But there are tons of programs to help buyers with those kinds of repairs,” she added quickly to quell their fears. “The thing now is to get in there, make a bid and get the property. The rest will take care of itself. And because it needs so much work, the asking price is much lower than the other two.”

  “How much are we talking about?” Elizabeth asked.

  Ann Marie’s lips pinched for a moment, this was always the time when her clients balked. “The asking price is only five hundred and sixty-five thousand.”

  “Only!” Stephanie squeaked.

  “You’re kidding,” Barbara stammered, visibly appalled.

  “That’s more than a half million dollars for a house that’s falling apart,” Elizabeth added, the alarm in her voice almost comical.

  They all began talking at once, wanting their point to be heard, and, of course, nothing was.

  Finally Ann Marie stood, all five feet of her elevated by her heels, and held her hands over her head. She began a tirade in a dialect so thick that all the other women could do was sit and stare. They couldn’t be sure if they were being cussed out or advised.

  Now Ann Marie’s hands were braced on her rounded hips as she told them in no uncertain terms the value of property ownership, the financial rewards, tax breaks and more than anything, their dream coming true.

  “We can do this. Just because the house costs that much doesn’t mean we can’t negotiate. Between us four we can make a solid down payment and I can work the numbers so that it won’t break us.” She waited for them to absorb her advice.

  Their expressions slowly shifted from horror, to confusion, to understanding, to acceptance.

  “I think we can do this,” Barbara said, looking from one to the other. “I know we can. I have some money stashed away. Marvin made sure that I would be taken care of, and I can’t think of any better way to use some of it.”

  “I have plenty of equity in my house,” Elizabeth said, “and I’m sure not going to let that…bastard and his girlfriend get their hands on it.” She gave a sharp nod of her head to emphasize her point.

  “My extra income from my apartment building is just going in the bank. I’ll use that,” Ann Marie offered, then turned to Stephanie. “And you can toss in some of those bonuses you are always bragging about.”

  Stephanie jumped up, her eyes like two daggers aimed at Ann Marie. “Go to hell.” She grabbed her laptop and ran out the door before anyone could react.

  Ann Marie stood wide-eyed and innocent. “What did I say?”

  “The same thing you always say,” Barbara snapped, heading for the door. “Too much.”

  Barbara ran outside, catching up with Stephanie an instant before she put the key in the lock of her car door. She put her hand on her shoulder to turn her around.

  “Steph, come on. You know Ann Marie doesn’t mean anything.” She came around to face Stephanie, who quickly turned her face away but not before Barbara saw her red eyes and tears streaming down her cheeks. “Steph, honey, what is it?”

  Stephanie shook her head back and forth. “Just a really bad day, Barb, and you can’t fix it. Okay?” She pulled away from Barbara’s hold. “I gotta go.” She sniffed hard. “I’ll call you.” She opened her car door and got in. “And for the record, I’m in as long as I don’t have to deal with that…bitch!” She slammed the door shut and sped off
, leaving Barbara to inhale a plume of exhaust fumes.

  Barbara watched as Stephanie drove right past her building and kept on going.

  Barbara returned to her apartment and gently closed the door. All eyes were on her when she reentered the living room.

  “She says she’s in.” Barbara left out the rest.

  “Maybe I should call her,” Ann Marie offered.

  “I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” Elizabeth said. “Give her some space. Besides, you have an uncanny way of pissing Stephanie off.”

  Ann Marie mumbled something under her breath. “I can get us in to see the properties on Monday if you all agree.”

  “I’m off work at four on Monday,” Barbara said.

  “After I see my attorney I’m free.” Elizabeth leaned back in her seat. “I’ll talk to him about what property rights I have while I’m there.”

  “Good. So why don’t we all meet at my office on Monday at five-thirty?”

  Barbara and Elizabeth nodded in agreement.

  “You should be the one to tell Stephanie,” Ann Marie said to Barbara. “Unless, of course, she has one of her hot dates and can’t make it.” She folded her arms like a recalcitrant child and pouted.

  “It’s statements like those that always has you in trouble.” Barbara shook her head. “You ladies hungry?”

  Elizabeth stood and stretched. “No. I think I’ll go home.”

  “Me, too,” Ann Marie said. “No telling what Raquel is up to in my house.”

  Elizabeth and Barbara looked at each other but held their comments.

  Ann Marie collected her paperwork and stuck them back in her portfolio. She headed for the door then looked back at Elizabeth.

  “Ellie, you comin’, chile? I can give you a lift.”

  “I have my car. Thanks. Just going to use the bathroom before I leave. You go ahead. See you on Monday.”

  Even though they all lived on the same stretch of Morningside Drive with one or two blocks separating them, they always drove their cars to each other’s homes. It was a standing joke between them.

  Ann Marie shrugged. “Night then.” She waved and walked out.

  “Whew,” Elizabeth breathed. “That got pretty ugly.”

  “Hmm.”

  “Did Stephanie say anything?”

  Barbara repeated Stephanie’s parting comment and Elizabeth laughed, her first for the day.

  “Sometimes I have to wonder if Ann Marie is intentionally vicious or if she really doesn’t know any better,” Barbara commented as they walked into the kitchen.

  Elizabeth took a seat at the island counter and began spinning the napkin holder on the smooth marble surface.

  “I’m really glad you stopped by today.” She looked up at Barbara, who was standing near the sink.

  “So am I.” She smiled at her friend. “Want some iced tea?”

  “Sure.”

  She poured a glass for each of them and sat down. “So, how are you, really?”

  “Other than feeling like my whole world has collapsed, I’m fine.” She was pensive for a moment. “I didn’t even see it happening. And I guess the question that haunts me is what did I do wrong?”

  “You didn’t do anything. This was Matt’s choice.”

  “But I’m his wife. I should have noticed something.”

  “Well, they say the wife is always the last to know. Maybe there were signs, maybe there weren’t. But the main thing is you. You have to take care of Ellie.”

  Elizabeth took a sip of her drink and slowly nodded her head. She pushed out a long breath. “And I think our new venture is just what I need. What we all need.”

  “So do I.” She smiled, her thoughts coming in a rush of possibilities. “So do I.”

  Chapter 11

  Ann Marie had decided to do some last-minute food shopping before going home. She felt kind of bad about what she’d said to Stephanie, even though every word of it was true. She couldn’t understand why people got so unnerved by her. She spoke her mind. And sometimes the truth hurt, even if it wasn’t intentional. The truth was, Stephanie was a corporate tramp. Didn’t she admit to sleeping with her boss and lawd knows who else to get where she was in the company. Hmmph, but when she says something everyone gives her the screw face. Was she wrong?

  She parked her car and went inside. As usual on a Saturday evening the megasupermarket was packed. She made quick work of picking up the items she needed and got in line.

  Behind her was an older and a younger woman. They were having an intense conversation about the upcoming elections and Ann Marie was quite amazed to hear the young girl’s views on the state of the world and the responsibility of politicians to their constituents. What was more amazing was that the older woman seemed truly interested in what the young woman was saying, asking probing questions and adding her own opinions. The conversation shifted from politics to hip-hop music, books and the latest fashion trends while they waited for their turn with the cashier.

  “Ma, we forgot ketchup,” the young woman said.

  Ann Marie turned, shocked. Mother and daughter, talking like friends?

  The realization unsettled Ann Marie in a way she could not quite grasp as she witnessed a smile akin to love light up the woman’s face. The girl got off line, darted around shopping carts and customers then disappeared down one of the aisles.

  She couldn’t ever remember having a conversation with her mother about anything beyond household chores and school. In her mother’s house, you listened and that was it. Children were seen and not heard and she’d raised Raquel the same way.

  She put her purchases on the conveyor belt, paid with her credit card and walked out with her two plastic bags of groceries.

  On the drive home, she suddenly felt lost and very alone, as if some major piece of her existence was suddenly missing and she didn’t know why.

  Ann Marie returned home to the aroma of stewed fish and callaloo. Her stomach growled.

  Raquel was in the living room watching television and quickly turned off the TV with the remote when she heard the key in the door.

  Even at the age of twenty-three she was still afraid of her mother. Not that her mother would physically harm her, but she would withhold any semblance of kindness for the smallest infraction.

  All her life Raquel believed that her mother held her happiness in the palm of her hand and would crush it on a whim. She was never sure what it was that would set her mother off on one of her verbal assaults and then the silence that followed, which was far more punishing. She’d spent years trying to win her mother’s love, but it was never forthcoming.

  When she married Earl she believed that she was finally free, that she’d found someone to love her and make her feel worthwhile. Her fantasy was short-lived. And now, without any real friends or family to turn to, she’d come back to the one place she’d hoped never to return to—home.

  “Hello, Mama.” Raquel quickly got up to help Ann Marie with the bags.

  Ann Marie’s lips pinched into a line for a moment. “I didn’t think you’d hear me with the television up so loud. All you young people are deaf.”

  “Sorry,” Raquel murmured, even though she knew the television had been barely audible. “I prepared dinner. I can fix you a plate if you’re hungry.”

  Ann Marie glanced around her precious space. Everything was as it should be. She released a breath of tense air.

  “Maybe later.” She left her bags with Raquel and went into her bedroom shutting the door behind her.

  She sat on the side of her queen-size bed and took off her shoes and out of nowhere she wanted to weep. The feeling crept up from the soles of her feet and rocked her as they shot to her heart and poured from her eyes. Raquel’s unexpected return into her life made her angry, sad, confused and uncertain of herself.

  Raquel symbolized all that was wrong with Ann Marie, all that was incomplete. But if she could keep Raquel at a distance, out of sight and out of mind, she wouldn’t have to think about anythin
g below the surface. She wouldn’t have to struggle with emotions that she didn’t know what to do with. She wouldn’t have to be a mother.

  Chapter 12

  “Ms. Moore,” the nurse at the front desk of St. Ann’s Nursing Home said in surprise. “We weren’t expecting you.”

  “I know. I just needed to stop by. Is it all right if I see her? I know it’s late…”

  “Sure. I know it will make her happy.”

  “Thanks.”

  “You can go in. She’s in her room.” She handed her a pass.

  Stephanie clipped the pass onto her sweater and walked down the hushed corridor. She stopped in front of room 262, knocked gently then opened the door.

  Samantha sat in a chair by the window, her favorite spot. Slowly she turned her head, sensing a presence behind her. A hint of recognition lit her eyes and a crooked smile formed on her mouth.

  “Hey, sweetie,” Stephanie said, slowly approaching. She knelt down in front of her twin sister and took her hands. “How are you today?”

  Samantha stared blankly. Stephanie didn’t expect a response. Samantha never uttered more than an inappropriate giggle or unintelligible sounds.

  Stephanie stroked her sister’s cheek and tried not to cry. “Did you have a good day? It was so pretty outside after the rain last night.”

  Samantha’s gaze drifted toward the window as if she may have understood, but Stephanie knew better. According to the doctors, Samantha had suffered extensive, irreversible brain damage in a car accident more than fifteen years earlier. Stephanie had been able to walk away.

  Every day since, Stephanie blamed herself. She’d been the one to insist that Samantha accompany her to the party. Sam hadn’t wanted to go. She was tired and wanted to study for her final exams. She had aspirations of being a doctor one day. But Stephanie, always the stronger willed of the two, convinced her. And she’d spent every waking hour since that fateful night regretting it.

  So she placed her sister in the best facility that New York had to offer. Cost was no object, she’d insisted to the doctors. She would find a way to pay for her sister’s care, and she did.