by Rea Winters
Caspar found a seat in the row of cushioned chairs against the wall where all the patients had cleared out.
“Adami,” a different woman greeted from her left and sat one chair over.
Caspar tensed, but kept cool and flipped a page, keeping her gaze glued to the pictures.
“Becker.”
Josephine Becker. Sitting beside Cas was a relatively tall and fit brunette ladda with a fine bone structure, dark brown eyes, and a dusky complexion; a reflection of her deep Indo roots. She donned an executive haircut and a thousand-dollar watch on her wrist to match her suit of double the price. An heir of one of Cedamire’s wealthiest families, she acted as the current Aobe of their many enterprises. She was also Caspar’s main rival and lead bully growing up. Life being the endless stretch of dominos it was, a few misgivings and some ill encounters as preteens had led to a tit-for-tat that had become messier each passing year.
No one could be sure who hurt who first and exactly how, but Natalie had hypothesized more than once that it was Becker Senior’s shining opinion of Caspar and constant disappointment in the young Josephine that fueled the latter’s fiery vitriol for the Adami girl. At thirteen years old, they had already been on tense terms when Becker found out about Caspar’s tragic origin story. It didn’t take her long to spread it around that Caspar was a psycho rapist in-the-making to justify ganging up on her with friends. Fewer and fewer of their peers would try to stop it until they collectively decided it wasn’t their place to intervene.
When Caspar had begun to fight back on her own and win, sabotaging her oh-so admirable reputation was a social gain that more than made up for Jo’s physical losses against her. Her one constant win became fear mongering out of fake concern that Cas could be a threat to others, including her poor disturbed mother. Their peers ostracized Cas for this, whether out of fear or pity or both, to the point where she withdrew from everything and everyone unless challenged in a fight or starting one.
This rivalry between Cedamire’s blue blood princess and the backwoods piranha came to an explosive head when they were eighteen years old at a party in the park, ending with the two of them muddy, bloody, and shoved in the back of separate police cruisers.
A month after that, Caspar’s mother died and she stopped showing her face around town. Despite hearing the pitiful news about Chea Adami, Jo Becker was just arrogant enough to believe that the shame of being bested by her had just as much to do with Caspar’s disappearing act.
Keeping her expression pleasant and her tone cordial, Becker stared ahead at her wife and children.
“Let’s cut to the chase, shall we? I know my wife initiates your little reunions in that creep castle of yours. I shouldn’t be surprised that you lack the human decency to turn away a married woman. But I thought I should warn you not read too much into Natalie’s little vacations from home. We're going through a bit of a rough patch, so she uses humping the town freak to embarrass me. That’s all it is to her. She told me so herself after a few glasses of red.” Her smug satisfaction seemed to outweigh the anger she was supposed to feel as a betrayed spouse. “The Queen Bee doesn’t give a damn about you, Adami. No one does.”
Caspar clutched the magazine a little tighter, her collar hot with annoyance, but she left her expression cool.
“I know what we are. She gives me what I need. And I give her what she can’t get at home. Nothing more.”
Becker’s smirk fell into an offended sneer, her brow twitching with anger. “Is that right?”
“It is.” Satisfied with her dig, Caspar looked up from the magazine, staring Becker in the face to cement her audacity before turning back to the pages.
Becker scoffed. “Real funny, Adami. Just don’t let me catch you near what’s mine again.”
Just then, Amie came out of the double doors and went to stand in line for some prescriptions. She spotted Caspar in the waiting area and gave her a short wave. Both fellas watched her entertain a little kid ahead of her with funny faces and make chit chat with his mother.
“She’s cute, the new girl,” Becker said. “I hear she’s a delightful little worker bee, too.”
Caspar’s fists balled up the edges of the magazine.
“Word of advice from one Aobe to another? You shouldn’t take advantage of your staff’s dedication. That’s how innocent people end up in the wrong place at the wrong time.”
Satisfied with her dig, Becker left the seat and made her way to the other side of the lobby where Natalie sat with their kids. Natalie herself shot both of them a put-upon glare, stressing something to Jo through clenched teeth. Becker seemed to ignore her, kissed their kids goodbye and strutted out the door, shooting Caspar one last challenging smirk before she was out of sight. The buzzing of her phone pulled Cas’ attention from the door.
A text from Natalie: Whatever she said, don’t listen to her.
Cas scoffed under her breath, then looked up at Natalie, who widened her eyes, silently urging her to respond.
“Cas? You okay?” Amie asked, now stood to the right of her with a little bag of medication in hand. She followed her troubled stare to the woman on the other side of the room and back. “Cas?”
“Yeah. I’m okay.” She stood.
“She a friend of yours?”
“No. Let’s go.”
Once fastened into the truck, Amie watched Cas angrily mutter under her breath for about thirty seconds before she’d had enough of the suspense.
“Sooo, who was that?”
“Who was who?”
“The lady you were eye-battling. And don’t say no one. It would be an insult to my intelligence,” she declared with a playful haughtiness.
“She’s a girl I used to…see.”
“Oh.” A moment’s pause followed as Amie battled a twinge of jealousy spearing her heart. “Girlfriend troubles, you sly dog you,” she quipped with a fraction less of enthusiasm.
“She's not my girlfriend. She's married. Separated. Whatever.” Cas sighed. “I don’t really like her. I did at one point, years ago. Back in high school, she was my first…you know.”
“Yeah, I think I get the picture.”
“We didn’t date, but we would see each other off and on for a long time. Being with her was a secret back then, same with other girls. But it still made me feel…normal, I guess. Then my mom…After that, I pulled away from all that, from everything. Wouldn’t go into town for anything or anyone. So, she moved on. Had the wedding, babies, a home of her own. When Des told me about it…I don’t know. I felt a little jealous. Thinking ‘what if,’ you know? Then six months ago, she shows up on my doorstep, saying she needs a break from all the stuff I was missing. I should’ve turned her away, but…” Caspar scoffed, shaking her head. “I don’t know.”
“Sounds like you wanted a little taste of normal again. Well, as normal as an affair with a married woman can be.”
Caspar huffed a laugh, relieved that Amie understood the things she couldn’t quite put into words.
“Yeah, must be something like that.”
Though Amie thought about it all night, they hadn’t talked about their moment in the kitchen. The conversation starter moved from the edge of her brain to the tip of her tongue, but wouldn’t break past her lips. She couldn’t make up her mind what she wanted it to mean and she was even less sure what it meant to Cas, especially since the ladda didn’t seem in a rush to bring it up, either. It made sense now, knowing that she had other involvements, however complicated they may be. Just to be safe, Amie reminded herself that fun had in the moment didn’t need to mean anything.
“You know, there are better normals out there, if you don’t mind me saying.”
“I don’t.” Caspar cracked a subdued smile in her direction. “What did your doctor say, by the way?”
“Oh, you know, the usual stuff. Everything’s still in the right place and functioning as it should. And I got some prescriptions refilled.”
“Prescriptions?”
“J
ust some anti-nausea stuff, scar cream, little things. Trust me, I’m all set.”
As if the Ancesti were prepared to challenge such a declaration, her cellphone erupted into a melody. She fished it out of her pocket and answered on the fourth ring, then pulled the phone from her ear with a wince as a prissy woman’s shrill voice came through the receiver. Even Caspar grimaced, hardly able to understand the mousy panicked rambling.
“Miss Delanie…yes, I under—yes, ma’am. Right away, ma’am. No problem. Bye.”
“What was that about?”
“One of Hammer’s biggest spenders is a bit on the neurotic side. She was a bit startled when Oscar wasn’t there to take her order personally, so I gave her my cell number to make her more comfortable with me.”
“Sounds like a mistake.”
“A worthy sacrifice when you see how much she throws down on ceramic doodads and celestial pillars for her backyard garden parties. Her pieces were supposed to arrive earlier this morning, but because of the break-in, it got pushed back and I kinda forgot to notify her. But not to worry, I know just how to fix this.”
Her tongue pinched between her teeth as she texted like the wind.
“You don’t need to fix it. I’ll explain what happened and she’ll wait like everybody else.”
“Oh c’mon, that’s no way to treat someone who’s listed under ‘priority clientele.’ It’ll be quick.”
Amie called up one of the masons who worked on the woman’s order. He agreed to round up a few others.
“Doesn’t your doctor want you to rest or something?”
“No need. I’m all rested up thanks to someone’s generous hospitality. Besides, I’ve already set my mind to it, so I’d just end up a restless mess now.”
“You really don’t like to sit still, do you?” Cas sighed, but still turned the car toward the Hammer building. Amie grinned, giddy with satisfaction.
Chapter Twenty-One
The room needed to stop spinning. Just for a second. A minute or two.
“Managing to get back on your feet as quickly as you have after a liver transplant is quite impressive, but you could’ve given yourself more time to recover. After what you’ve recently experienced, I think it’s imperative that you take time to rest. Really rest. No work, no errand-running, no bussing across state lines. Just sit back and put your feet up. This medication is supposed to make you comfortable, but it won’t work unless you give it time to do its job.”
Those were Dr. Fitz’ words of wisdom during her appointment earlier. And in classic Amie fashion, it went through one ear and out the other the moment a problem arose. Fatigued and a little dizzy, Amie clung to the sink of a single-user restroom with one hand, while rubbing her stomach with the other between neck rolls and deep breaths. Her ankle now throbbed and stung from the deeper twist it endured on the job. She scoffed, thinking back to the time she had worked overtime with an icepack sweating on her swollen knee and didn’t feel half as drained as she did now. A little hard labor never used to hurt. And she hadn’t lost the spirit for it, either, but her body was still playing catch up. If only she could turn off that switch in her head that turned the distress of others into a raging fire inside her.
“You’re doing fine, girl. Just fine. The worst part is over,” Amie whispered. She wiped away the sweat on her brow and splashed her face with water.
Outside of the restroom, the crew of five sat at a round table in the middle of Toddy’s Bar & Grill with a pitcher of beers and every appetizer on the menu at their front and center.
“Ey! What a pain,” Marc complained with a sharp groan.
“She wasn’t so bad, I don’t think,” Jon said, titling his head side to side as he chewed on a saucy chunk of rib.
“Nah, Marc’s right,” Lexa cut in, leaning back in her chair. “Every four months, this shiqua acts like her quality of life depends on a couple of stone slabs in her backyard. I mean, who calls people out an hour before a storm? What happens if we get the flu?”
“Hey, this bonus in my pocket is more than worth the runny nose,” Indra answered, proudly patting the breast pocket of her t-shirt. “Thanks to the Ancesti for heavy tippers.”
And to that, they all raised their glasses. Except Caspar. Cas sipped her water and barely touched her chicken wings, unsure of how she should act. Working was one thing. Hefting things on their shoulders and fastening them into the ground hadn’t required friendly banter to go smoothly. She had given orders and they said ‘yeah, boss’ and followed her lead. Trusted her, so it felt. Pats on the back and high fives had abounded, including ones in her direction. Easy.
Hanging out was different. Harder. She technically grew up with this crew. They had been lab partners in science classes or wore the same uniform on the baseball field. But sitting among them now as they exchanged stories about their day to day and cackled at inside jokes reminded her that she didn’t really know them. That she was an observer. An outsider. An intruder.
“Hey, bossman,” Jon called. “What are the police saying about the break-in at Hammer? Was it thieves?”
“No. Nothing was stolen. They just took a few crowbars to my office and Amie’s…” Caspar clutched her glass tighter and took another sip.
“Yeah, we heard she got caught up in it. We’re glad she’s okay.”
“Me too,” Cas seconded.
“You know, to be honest,” Marc piped up, making the other men and women brace behind long sips of their beers. “We thought old George was fighting a losing battle trying to get you to come in and lead the business. But you stepped up. And it may not seem like it, but we all think you’re doing a hell of a job.”
“Really?”
“Yeah,” they all replied in bumpy unison, then raised their glasses to her and took a swig.
A subdued bashful smile came to Caspar’s face. “I’m glad. I was nervous about it, but I’m finding pride in it now. Taking over the family business is something my mother…” The sight of them all choking on their drinks gave her pause. “…always wanted.”
The poorly hidden alarm in their eyes made her stomach drop. She shifted stiffly and lowered her gaze. After polishing off her water, she reached for her wallet. “Good job today, guys.”
The crew stayed quiet and watched her put enough cash on the table to cover their orders. When she got up and put her jacket on, they exchanged glances, having a nudging competition with their eyes. By the time she stepped away from the table, their fractured excuses and bargains for her to stay for one more beer died on their tongues.
Amie returned to the table just as the door swung closed behind her.
“Hey, what did I miss? Where’s Caspar?”
“Uh…um, the bossman decided to call it a night,” Jon answered.
“Yeah,” they all echoed.
“Oh. Well, I better get going then. Great work today, everybody.”
Amie gathered her things, polished off the rest of her fourth beer, and headed for the door.
Chapter Twenty-Two
That stupid ghost story. She lost count of how many versions of it existed at this point. Throughout all of them, two egregiously inaccurate details remained the same: she killed her mother and slept with the corpse. Cas cursed under her breath, then peered over at Amie.The girl was slouched in her seat with her eyes closed and her palm pressed against her forehead.
“Amie?”
“Hm?” She stirred, but her eyes didn’t open.
“You don’t look so good.”
“Thanks a lot, handsome. Didn’t figure you for the shallow type.”
Cas let out an amused huff, but that didn’t stop her from worrying.
“You know what I mean. Are you feeling okay?”
“I’m fine. The day’s work is just catching up to me, that’s all. What about you?”
Caspar returned her focus to the road. “What about me?”
“You’ve been tense since we left. More tense than usual.”
She stayed quiet, eliciting an a
mused snort from her passenger.
“Oh, come on, I know you want to tell me. Why else get my attention when, for once, I’m not running off at the mouth at you?”
Caspar pulled up into her yard and turned off the car. Instead of getting out and resuming the night as if nothing was wrong, she just sat there. After another minute or so of silence, she told Amie what happened at the table.
“That bothered you.”
“Yeah. Because I know why they reacted that way and there’s just…not a damn thing I can do about it.”
“Why?”
Caspar paused again. “I found her. My mom. After Des dropped me off, after our fishing trip. She was on the floor by her bed. Mouth open, skin blue, the smell. I checked for a pulse anyway. Nothing. I just couldn’t…I forgot what I was supposed to do, what was the normal thing to do. So, I just held her. I think I kept telling myself she was just sleeping and would wake up with a headache any second. Then I’d make her favorite tea and we’d go on about our night. At some point, I put her down, but then…I saw that she—her body—it had relieved itself. I remember thinking she couldn’t be found on the floor like that. All I could hear is how much she would’ve complained. So, I wiped her down everywhere that was visible and put a clean gown over her soiled one. Then I put her back in her bed and sat outside the door with the phone in my hand. I must’ve passed out because the next thing I know the birds are out and the cicadas are quiet. I look into her room again and that’s…” She cleared away the thickness in her throat. “That’s when it really sank in that the past however many hours weren’t some freakish nightmare. I called Des a minute later. He showed up and took over from there.”
Amie slid over to Caspar’s side of the seat and hugged her arm, leaning against her and intertwining their fingers. Cas grasped her hand, grateful for her touch.
“So. Some of it is true. Just not the way they spin it. I didn’t strangle her or poison her or mutilate her. I wasn’t even there when she died and that…” Her jaw clenched and unclenched. “That’s the part that’ll always eat me up inside. And I know the normal thing is to call the police immediately, but I didn’t keep her body for three days. It was one night. One short night and I didn’t even stay with her the whole time. Trying to clean her, dressing her…” She sighed, filled with conflicted regret and embarrassment. “I know there’s no other way for that to look but weird and creepy. I shouldn’t’ve done it. But taking care of her is all I knew. It was automatic. Something in me said ‘you have to, even when it doesn’t matter anymore. It’s just what you do.’”
