Chapter 40
Paige appeared to be sincere in wanting to help, but Jessivel still couldn’t stop thinking she had some ulterior motive that would become apparent later. And it nagged at her as to what it could be.
The news about her father’s disease had freaked her out. Now that she had a better handle on “Googling,” she typed in “Huntington’s” on her new laptop. The symptoms and side effects were frightening—involuntary movements, difficulty speaking, trouble understanding things, memory lapse, bipolar disorder—and it could be a long, drawn-out illness.
She spent the rest of the day browsing job sites, finding the one Paige had recommended as the easiest one to navigate. She limited her search to jobs within a few miles, not as far as others had wanted her to search. She found three barista jobs worth consideration.
Kayla came home from school as she was finishing the last application.
“What’s that?” she asked.
“My new laptop. Paige gave it to me.”
“Can I use it too?” Kayla asked.
“For homework?”
“Yes, for homework,” she said, rolling her eyes. “I have to do a report on the phases of the moon.”
“Okay, but we won’t have a printer until tomorrow.” She grinned. “I applied for three jobs today.”
Kayla gave her a high five. “So, do you like Paige now?”
“Sure.”
“Because you hated her before.”
“I never said I hated her.” Not out loud, anyway.
“You acted like it.”
“I didn’t know her, that’s all.”
“But she’s your sister. That’s what Nana said.”
“Half-sister. But I’m getting to know her as a friend first.”
“She’s your only friend, Mom.”
“I have other friends.”
“Yeah, who?”
“I consider Marlene at The Busy Bean my friend.”
“What color is Marlene?”
Jessivel mulled over her daughter’s question before answering. “Are you asking me what race she is?”
“No, what color is her skin?”
Jessivel hesitated, apparently too long for Kayla’s liking.
“You don’t know what color she is?”
“I don’t understand why you’re asking the question.”
“Color makes a difference.”
“And why is that?”
“Just does.”
“Are you asking about Marlene, or does this have to do with someone else?”
“Maybe someone else.”
“And who would that someone else be?”
“Maybe me.”
Jessivel had avoided having this discussion with Kayla up until now and still didn’t feel comfortable with it. “Your father was mixed race, Kayla. His father was Asian, and his mother was part white, part black.”
“So what does that make me?”
“Beautiful?”
“Mom, you know what I mean.”
“It makes you multiracial.”
“And what does that mean?”
“It doesn’t mean anything, or it shouldn’t anyway… Why are you asking this?”
“Because I don’t know what to say when someone asks me what I am?”
“Kids at school ask you that?”
“I’ve had teachers ask me that.”
“What? If anyone asks you what you are, teachers included, tell them you’re a twelve-year-old girl.”
“What if they ask me where I’m from?”
“Tell them Chicago.”
“What if they ask me who’s my daddy?”
“Tell them you never met him, that he—”
“When are you going to tell me more about him?”
“When you’re older.”
“How old?”
“How about eighteen?”
“How about now?”
“It’s an adult subject.”
“You say that about everything. There won’t be enough days in the year to talk about all this stuff when I turn eighteen.”
“I think there will be.”
“My friends know all about their dads, even the ones who don’t live with them. And Dylan’s dad is in jail, and he knows all about it.”
“Okay, what do you want to know?”
“Where did you live with him, at Nana and Poppy’s?”
Shit.
“We…didn’t get a chance to live together.”
Kayla gave her mother a puzzled look.
“He died too soon?”
“Yes, that’s it.”
“Were you married?”
Double shit.
“We were planning on it.”
“Where did he work?” Kayla asked.
“He was a mechanic. He worked on cars, in a garage.”
“How did he die?”
“I told you before, in a car accident.”
“What happened?”
“He was hit by a drunk driver.”
“Do you have a picture of him?”
Jessivel had torn up the few photos she’d once had.
“No, I don’t.”
“Did you love him?”
“Of course, I did.”
“Then why don’t you have any pictures of him?”
“I just don’t. I thought you had homework to do.”
“Whatever.”
Later that day, after Kayla had gone to bed, Jessivel cried over the man she had once loved, the man who had deserted her. She regretted the lie she had told Kayla about him being dead, and she knew that in time she would have to tell her the truth. Twelve just seemed too young. She had never fully understood why Jason, the man who had called her his “boo,” had abandoned her when she needed him the most. How could she explain this to her daughter?
“Lousy bastard,” she whispered through her sobs.
Jessivel’s enthusiasm about finding a job soon dissipated when she didn’t hear back from any of the companies she’d contacted. She said as much to Paige when Paige called to tell her she’d made an appointment for her to be tested for Huntington’s.
“You can’t get discouraged so quickly, Jessivel,” Paige said. “It takes time to find the right job. And while the Internet is a great way to find one, not all jobs are posted there. You have to try other means at the same time.”
“Like what?”
“Have you thought about walking into a coffee shop and asking to speak with the manager or owner? Fill out an application? Audrey told me you created that raspberry espresso yourself. That would be something to mention to the manager. Show them you’re creative. Be assertive.”
“I couldn’t do that.”
“Why not?”
“I don’t know. I just couldn’t.”
“You want to find a job, right?”
“Yeah.”
“Then you have to work at it. They aren’t going to come knocking on your door. You have to knock on theirs. Word-of-mouth also works. Have you talked to people you know in the coffee industry?”
“Like who?”
“Former coworkers, for example.”
“Yes, one.”
“Try others. They might know of something. How about temp agencies?”
“Not sure what they are.”
“Sometimes employers need someone temporary, someone they don’t want to put on their payroll permanently. Short-term assignments. They go to a temp agency looking for someone. If the temp agency has you in their database, and your qualifications match the requirements of the job, they’ll call you.”
“But I don’t want temporary.”
“Temporary is better than nothing, right? You can do that until you find something permanent. And who knows, that temp job could lead to a permanent one as you make new contacts in the industry and meet people who may know of openings.”
“This is way more involved than I thought.”
“But you know what? The more you put into it, the more you’ll get out o
f it. What’s the old saying? ‘You get out of life what you put into it.’ That’s true, you know.”
“I never looked at it that way before.”
“Just a little sisterly advice. Do you want me to go with you to your doctor’s appointment? Maybe for moral support?”
Jessivel’s immediate reaction was to say no, she could go to a doctor’s appointment on her own. But after thinking about the nature of the visit and the fact that Paige had offered to pay for it, she thought differently. And furthermore, Paige’s friendship was beginning to mean something.
“That would be nice. Will they have the results right away?”
“I remember waiting a long time. I’ll pick you up a half hour before the appointment. Is that okay?”
“Yeah, sure.”
Jessivel hung up and lay down on her bed to mull over the conversation. It seemed as though a lot was said despite its brevity. She considered acting on Paige’s suggestion to walk into a coffee shop and ask for a job, something completely outside of her comfort zone. She talked with Kayla about it over dinner.
“What’s so hard about that?” Kayla asked.
“Well, I’d be going in uninvited, looking to talk to someone I don’t know who may be too busy to talk with me, and asking for something they may not have to offer. I don’t know, I just find that awkward. And then you may end up talking to them in front of other people. Paige thinks I should try it.”
“I’d practice it first.”
“What do you mean?”
“What if I pretend to be the store manager and you knock on my door looking for a job.”
“Hey, that’s not a bad idea,” she said to Kayla, giving her a high five.
After dinner, Kayla asked Jessivel to wait a few minutes while she prepared for the role play.
“Okay, I’m ready!” Kayla said through her closed bedroom door.
Jessivel knocked on the door.
“Come in.”
Kayla’s appearance threw Jessivel into a fit of laughter. Her hair was tied up in a knot on top of her head. She wore big-rimmed glasses from an old Halloween costume, Mardi Gras beads, and a long scarf wrapped around her neck several times. Her pant legs were rolled up to reveal a pair of Jessivel’s platform mules she hadn’t worn since she was a teenager.
“How can I do this with you dressed like that?”
“Close the door and try it again. You have to pretend I’m real.”
Jessivel waited a bit to calm herself down. Kayla was so serious about this, she couldn’t laugh again.
“Come in.”
“May I speak with the manager, please?”
“I’m the manager. What do you want? I’m very busy, you know.”
“I’ll only take a few minutes of your time, ma’am. I’m looking for a job.”
“What kind of job?”
“Barista.”
“I’m sorry, but we have no openings.”
“Okay. Bye.”
“Mom.”
“What?”
“That was terrible.”
“I know. You could have been nicer to me.”
Kayla rolled her eyes. “Boy, do we have a lot of work to do.”
The following Friday, Paige arrived on time to accompany Jessivel to get her blood test. She greeted Paige at the door, eager to tell her about her discussion with the manager of Café Mocha.
“I did what you said and walked right in and asked for the manager.”
“Good for you, Jess. That took courage.”
“We call it balls in my neighborhood. Anyway, we had a nice talk, and she said that she was thinking of expanding her space into the empty shop next door, and if she does that, she’ll have to hire at least one more barista and she’ll keep me in mind,” she said with enthusiasm. “I networked! Holy shit, I never thought I’d use that word in a sentence. Thanks for helping me.”
Paige laughed. “We can learn from each other, you know. You know things that I don’t.”
“Yeah, right.”
“Don’t sell yourself so short.”
Here it comes, Jessivel guessed. She wants something.
“Like maybe one day we can swap tales about our father. Over a glass of wine or something.”
Jessivel suspected Paige was fishing for something—that would explain why she was being so nice.
“Maybe.”
Shortly after they arrived for the appointment, someone ushered Jessivel into an exam room where they extracted a vial of blood. The nurse told her it would take six to eight weeks for the results.
“Why so long?” she asked.
“It’s a lengthy process, and there are very few labs that do it, so they have backlogs.”
“You okay?” Paige asked as they left the building.
“Yeah. But they said I won’t know for six to eight weeks.”
“I know. It’s a long time to have to wait. Want to stop for some lunch?”
“I would but…no money.”
“My treat.”
Chapter 41
Natalie had been at the police station for several hours when she called Paige to tell her that she was ready to be picked up. Paige knew that when the police had asked Natalie to come to the station, it was an indication they thought she knew more than she had disclosed at the house. Paige wondered just how much more Natalie had told them.
“Are you okay?” she asked Natalie in the car.
“No, I’m not okay. I was tied up like a damn hostage for an hour at Mom’s and now just spent three more hours being interrogated by the police!”
“What are they saying?”
“They asked me a million questions, then repeated the same questions with different wording to try to trick me up. After a while, I was so confused, I didn’t know what had really happened.”
“Do you think you need a lawyer?”
“I have no clue.”
“Did they accuse you of anything?”
“They think I know who it was who broke in.”
“Do you?”
Natalie hesitated. “Of course not.”
“How did they leave it with you?”
“Just like in the movies. They said don’t leave town or anything stupid like that.”
“Well, the front door lock has already been changed, and I’m waiting to hear when they’re going to install cameras.”
“How’s Mom?”
“This whole thing shook her up, but she’ll be okay. Natalie, if the people who broke into Mom’s house are the same people you owe money, they’ll be back, and that’s not fair to Mom to put her in that danger.”
“What makes you think that’s who broke in?”
“A lot of things point in that direction—nothing stolen even though some obvious things were out in the open that most thieves would have taken, for one. Let me ask you something. Why did you really leave Berwyn? Was it because they were after you for the money you owe them?”
“First of all, it’s not they, it’s he. And second of all…well, there is no second of all.”
“It was him then, wasn’t it?”
Natalie let out an audible sigh. “Someone connected with him, but I didn’t tell the police that.”
“You would have been better off telling the truth, Nat. Now they can get you for obstruction of justice or something.”
“I didn’t lie to them. Well, maybe just about the number of guys.”
“That, and you didn’t tell them all you knew, right?”
“Yeah.”
“That’s the same as lying, just so you know.”
“You think you know everything, don’t you? Try being me for a day.”
“No, thank you.”
Once home, Paige sat down with Natalie and their mother in the living room.
“I have a fundraiser to go to tonight, but afterward I’ll come back and stay the night here,” Paige said to them.
“What kind of fundraiser?” her mother asked. “Can’t you skip it and just send in your donation?”<
br />
“Not really. I’m their guest speaker.”
“Will you quit with the overprotective stuff already?” Natalie said. “We don’t need you here. We’re both adults, not children.”
“The policeman I talked to said he’d periodically run a patrol car by here tonight,” her mother said. “We’ll be fine. Go to your fundraiser, and then go home. Get some rest, and I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”
“I’m going to engage the security system before I leave,” Paige said. “Do you need for me to refresh how it—”
“Go, Paige.”
“Double lock the door from the inside after I leave, and—”
“Go.”
Feeling defeated and not at all comfortable with the situation, Paige left for home for a quick outfit change before going to her event.
Paige’s cell phone woke her from a sound sleep.
“Help me,” was the weak utterance on the other end of the phone.
“Mom?”
“I fell,” she said in a voice as thin as air.
“Where’s Natalie?”
“I don’t think she’s here.”
“I’m calling 9-1-1, Mom, and then I’m on my way. Stay still until someone gets there. Mom? Mom, are you there?”
Paige called 9-1-1, threw some pants on under her sleep shirt, and flew to her car. “Goddamn Natalie,” she muttered to herself as she sped through the streets. The glowing numbers on the dashboard clock read one-thirty A.M. What was Natalie doing out at this hour?
Stupid question.
She hadn’t given Natalie the new house key—Paige and her mother had the only two keys that had come with the new lock—so if Natalie had left the house, she hadn’t locked the door behind her. Unless she had taken her mother’s key. She didn’t want to think about the possible scenarios.
Her mother said she had fallen. The rehab facility had sent her home with a quad cane she was instructed to use. But knowing her mother’s stubbornness, she suspected the cane hadn’t gotten much use. She had rid her mother’s house of things she could easily trip on or bump into, and she and Natalie had moved her mother’s bedroom to the guest room on the first floor so she wouldn’t have to navigate the stairs.
The paramedics had already arrived when she pulled up to the house. Paige threw the car in park and dashed inside.
“Is she okay?” she asked one of the paramedics.
The Ring Page 22
