by M. S. Parker
Allie
TJ tried to disappear down the hall, the second the door slammed shut behind us, but I caught the back of his hoodie. He came up short and turned around to glare at me.
“Wha?” His signing was sharp, brisk, his impatience clear.
Placing one hand on my hip, I pointed at the backpack and lunch bag he'd dropped in the middle of the floor. With an exasperated roll of his eyes, he grabbed his things and turned toward the closet to hang them up.
“No. You need to clean out the lunch bag before whatever is in there turns into your next science project.” At home, I didn't always speak when I signed since I was the only one who could hear it. Sometimes it felt a bit too much like talking to myself when I did it.
My comment teased a faint smile out of him, although he fought not to show it.
“Your cooperation is duly noted.” Sometimes it frustrated me how some tones simply couldn't be translated into sign.
He rolled his eyes – again – I’d counted five times just since I’d picked him up from school. “You keep on doing that, making it out…” I stopped signing as he turned his back on me and finished my thought by shouting at the back of his head. “Make me out to be some slave driver, TJ! You’re so rude sometimes!”
Mom’s soft laugh caught me off guard.
Turning, I saw her standing a few feet away, an amused smile dancing around her lips.
“Why are you yelling? How much good does that do?” she asked, speaking while she signed.
She’d been talking to me more than normal lately as if she'd finally realized how much I'd missed hearing another voice. She was talking louder than normal, and I knew the only reason she'd heard me was because I'd been yelling. While not completely deaf, enough of her hearing was gone that speaking even close to normally wasn't enough for her to understand what I was saying. Still, it was nice to have another voice to go along with the sign language.
“It does a lot of good – for me. He’s being a brat today.”
“How so?”
“Moody. Argues with everything I say. Doesn't want to do anything.”
I turned as I heard a thump and sighed at the sight of his backpack, now on the floor, half of his books and papers spilling out of it. “See?”
I shook my head. It wasn’t any wonder half the stuff had spilled out. I’d told him to zip it closed, and he’d ignored me. I knew he was having a rough time at school, but that didn't mean he had to act like a brat at home.
Mom gave me a small smile as she came closer. “You realize you weren’t all that much different. It’s a stage. You all go through it.” She gave me a peck on the cheek. I was only an inch taller than her five feet one inch, so she didn't have to stretch far to do it.
“I wasn’t as lazy as he is.” I scowled.
“No.” She gave me an indulgent smile. “That’s true.”
TJ and I were only half-brother and sister, but we never really paid much attention to that fact. My step-father, Tyson, was the only true father figure I'd ever had, even though I'd always known my biological father. Sometimes, however, I felt like my being the only hearing member of the family wasn't the only thing that set me apart. TJ and I had clearly received very different upbringings, and I knew that our mom often coddled him because of it, wanting to shield him from a lot of the shit that I'd had to deal with. I wasn't so sure that was always a good thing.
“By the way, you have mail.”
Turning, I saw a brown and white envelope in her hand. An overnight delivery, it looked like. Frowning, I accepted it, studying it curiously. Who would overnight me anything? I hadn't ordered anything online recently so it couldn't be that.
Mom’s gaze lingered on me, and I knew she was curious too. When I didn’t offer to explain, she signed that she was going to start dinner, and then walked away, leaving me alone to read my mail.
In the relative privacy of the empty living room, I tore open the envelope and reached inside where I found another envelope, this one made of heavy vellum, the paper textured and elegant, the kind used for wedding invitations and the like.
I frowned. I couldn’t think of any reason why somebody would overnight a wedding invitation, or any invitation for that matter. Especially to me. Other than Tao Maki, I didn't have any close friends, and Tao would never send something so pretentious. The women I worked with at the salon might invite me to things, but not like this.
A few seconds later, though, I realized that I'd forgotten to include one of the people I did know who had the money and the arrogance to pull off something like this. I dropped to sit on the couch, staring dumbly at the words on the elegant white textured linen.
You are invited…Saturday…Sponsored by the Lindstrom Foundation
That right there told me everything.
It most definitely was an invitation, and to the biggest fundraiser for the deaf community in the entire city. I knew about it. Mom and Tyson had even gone once as representatives of the deaf community. People respected them, listened to their ideas, looked up to them for their constant involvement in deaf issues.
Me?
Not so much. I mean, I supported all of those things, but I'd never been on the front lines. And the deaf community didn't want a hearing person representing them. I completely understood the reasoning and never felt slighted by it. I just did my thing and stayed in the background.
Which meant there was really no logical reason for me to have this invitation.
But I knew why I had it, and logic had nothing to do with it.
Jal had arranged for me to get it. How he’d gotten my address, I didn’t know, since the only time we'd gone out together, I'd had him pick me up at Tao's place. Now I was even more glad that I hadn't had him at the house. I didn't want my family involved in any of this. Not when I'd fucked up so badly by sleeping with the man my half-sister was engaged to. My mom had worked so hard to distance herself from my biological father and his family. I didn't want to bring the Hedges back into our lives.
My heart began to race as my chest tightened. What was he doing? Why was he doing it? And, most importantly, what the hell was he thinking?!
Carefully, I put the invitation down in my lap and pressed my fingertips to my eyes. Blood rushed and roared in my ears, and the way my thoughts were racing had me wishing I could just do the day over again. Except this time, I'd throw the envelope away without even looking in it.
I wasn’t going.
That’s all there was to it.
I couldn’t go. That much was obvious. The last time I'd gone to something with him as friends, I'd ended up in his bed. He was turning out to be a fatal weakness for me, and that was just bad. Something clanged in the kitchen, reminding me of my mother’s presence, and with that came a sudden realization.
“Dammit.”
Tightening my grip on the invitation, I wondered how I could rationalize not going. Mom and Tyson, they’d gone every time they’d been invited. Not because they enjoyed it, but because they felt they owed it to the community. How could I do any less for my family? So much money was raised for the local deaf community at this fundraiser.
And I doubted I'd be able to hide what the invitation was for. Mom would ask me what had come in the mail, and I hated lying to her. I could, I knew, but it wouldn't stop me from adding another layer of guilt to my already guilt ridden life.
“Shit.”
There was a dinner banquet. Cocktails. Well, that wasn’t bad, although if there was booze involved, I’d have to stay away from Jal. I didn't trust myself around him sober. Even the slightest bit tipsy would be a danger.
Except...the invitation read plus one.
I could take a plus one. That would keep me on the straight and narrow. Why Jal had invited me would no longer matter. I'd stick with my date and ignore Jal. I’d spent the past few days trying to put Friday night out of my mind. Not that I’d had much luck, but I’d tried. I even had myself almost convinced that if I kept trying, I’d succeed. Sooner or later.
Like in two or three decades.
“And now this,” I muttered. For once, I was glad no one in the house could hear me.
A sly little voice spoke up even as I was debating what to do. It’s just a dance. Dinner. You can take a date. You might not even see him. And if you do…don’t talk to him.
“Yeah, right.”
Dinner. Drinks. I could take a date.
I took a slow breath. “I can do this.”
Yes, you can do it. Go and show him that screwing him wasn’t a big deal. A mistake you never intend to make again.
The little voice in my head was right. It was like facing my fears. I just needed to get on with it and make sure that it was clear to Jal that our one crazy night was done, over, and it would never happen again.
To do that, though, I needed to make sure I had someone at my side who'd ensure that I didn't do anything stupid.
Again.
When faced with important decisions that need answers quickly, sometimes there's only one thing to do. Call your best friend, go out, and have a drink.
This was definitely one of those times.
And, as always, Tao was happy to help. The fact that I promised to pay for his first couple drinks helped. So, after dinner with the family, I met up with Tao at an out-of-the-way bar we went to when we needed a drink but didn't want to go to a club.
After getting our first round of drinks and an order of the bar's amazing onion rings, I quickly explained the situation and then waited for the comments I knew would be forthcoming.
“You know I love you, right, honey?” Tao reached across the table and took my hand. His sapphire blue eyes were filled with concern.
My free hand was locked around the tall pilsner beer, and I wasn’t letting go until I’d emptied it – and maybe downed a refill. Eying him over the rim, I prepared myself for what he was going to say. His pint of beer sat in front of him untouched, a sign of just how serious he was.
“Because I love you, I feel the need to point out that I think this is a very bad idea. Capital B. Capital I. Bad Idea.” He waited a moment as if to make sure I’d gotten the message, then he picked up his pint and took a healthy drink.
“Okay.” Tipping my glass in his direction, I said, “Point made. Now are you going with me or not?”
With a groan, he rubbed at his face, then shoved straight, shiny black hair out of his eyes. Making a dramatic show of throwing his arms open wide, he said, “Who else will go and protect you from yourself? You certainly aren’t going to be watching out for your own cute ass, are you?” Before I could even form a properly scathing retort, he asked, “Why are you doing this to yourself?”
“I’m not doing anything.” I flicked a dismissive hand as I scowled at him. “And stop it with the drama. You keep this up, I’m going to think you need to shelve the nursing school idea, head to New York City and try out for the soap operas or something, the way you carry on.”
He gave me a patented Tao grin. “With my luck, I’d end up being cast in a role where the studio would want me playing straight off the clock too.” He winked at me. “And you know I’d want to have my hands on pretty boy candy every now and then.”
I rolled my eyes. “Then go play with yourself. You are pretty boy candy.”
“That’s just not as much fun, honey. You know that.” He ate the last onion ring and ignored my glare. “But you can play with me whenever you want.”
Grabbing a pretzel from the bowl between us, I tossed it at him. “You're such an ass.” I gave his hand a squeeze. “But, seriously, thank you for agreeing to go with me.”
“No problem. Now, answer my question. Why are you doing this? You’re already in too deep with this guy, Allie.” He cupped my cheek and gave me a sad smile. “It’s not good for you. I don’t want to see you falling for someone who's only going to hurt you.”
“I’m not…” Stopping myself, I looked away. “That’s not what this is about, Tao. I’m going to prove to myself that I’m not falling for him.”
“If you wanted to prove that, you would have tossed the invitation.”
“But…” Faltering, I shook my head. “I couldn't, Tao, you know that. I’ve got to support these things. It’s…”
“Honey.” He leaned forward and pinned me with a brutally honest stare. “I support the rights of the LGBT community, but that doesn’t mean I have to go to a march, a dinner, or any other thing unless I want to. You've never wanted to go to one of these events before, so don't force yourself to do it now just because you got an invitation. You don’t have to martyr yourself for your family.”
I flushed as I stiffly replied, “I’m not.” Taking my beer, I tossed back half of it to ease the tight knot in my throat.
“Yeah, you are,” Tao countered, his tone gentle. “You go ahead and fool yourself if you need to, but I see how things are. Your family knows you love them and support them, even if you aren't sacrificing your own happiness for theirs. Half the time, I think you do it because it’s easier for you to live your life for them rather than live it for yourself. But this deal here? With this guy? You’re going to get hurt.”
The heat still suffused my face but for different reasons now. Looking away, I half-wished we'd gone to a club so I could've disappeared on the dance floor, forgotten my problems that way.
“He’s getting married, Tao. I know that. I won't make the same mistake twice.” With a sour laugh, I added, “I know better, trust me. I just feel like I have to prove to myself that I can be around him and not cave in again. I have to…”
I didn’t finish.
I couldn’t let myself.
I was ashamed to be even thinking it, but the thought was there all the same.
I had to know I wasn’t like my mom.
She was a wonderful woman, and I adored her. But I knew without a doubt my life and hers would have been very different if I hadn’t been conceived with a man who was already married with two legitimate daughters to dote on. I knew how much my parents' decisions had hurt everyone involved.
Maybe Tao was right. Maybe I should just stay away.
But I knew I wouldn’t.
“Hey.” Tao squeezed my hand, drawing my eyes to his. “I know what you’re thinking, and you need to stop. So, yeah. Your mama played the other woman for some rich, married white guy. You’ve got issues. But if she hadn’t? Allie, you wouldn’t be here. And I kinda like having you here. So suck it up and deal.” He smiled at me. “Now, let's discuss wardrobe.”
2
Jal
“Mr. Lindstrom?”
I looked up at Janie Beck – Mrs. Beck – as she smiled in at me. She’d been my father’s assistant before she was mine, a stable figure in my life. I could remember coming in after basketball practice, and then going back downstairs with money for cookies and milk from the bakery across the street.
Mrs. Beck was a sweet lady, and her kids had lived halfway across the country even back then, so she’d sort of adopted me. Thus the cookies and milk. My dad had always fussed at her not to spoil me, and she’d told him that he did it, so why couldn’t she? She was one of the few people who'd never been intimidated by who my father was or how much money he had.
She was right. My dad had spoiled me, although not enough that I could always go buy cookies and milk whenever I wanted. One thing he’d done was make sure I understood the value of a dollar. Sure, maybe I’d gotten my first Porsche when I was sixteen. A month later, I’d wrapped it around a tree and broken my leg. So my next car had been a beater, and I hadn’t gotten another decent car until I’d been able to pay for it with money I earned.
That entire incident had changed things for me, made me realize that I needed to stop taking things for granted. I started applying myself in school, at work. If I was asked to pinpoint a specific event that changed the direction of my life, that would've been it.
It very well might be how I got to be head of Lindstrom Enterprises, why I had my father's former assistant working for me now. And why I wa
s dealing with a bunch of bullshit from a company I was looking to take over.
Janie winced when she heard a voice come over the speaker. I’m sorry, she mouthed.
I waved it off and waited until the blowhard on the other end of the line paused to take a breath. Then, I did my thing. “Listen, Malcolm. What you’re trying to tell me is that you’ve got a piece of real estate that nobody wants and that you’ll give it to me on the cheap...because nobody wants it. I can get your company, and everything else on top, because you’re feeling magnanimous, is that right?”
Mrs. Beck pressed her lips together to keep from smiling. Apparently, I played a harder game than my father had.
“Jal, listen…” Malcom Hardesty came back with a schmoozing sort of tone that made me want to hang up. But he did have a piece of real estate that nobody wanted right now. That was going to change, and soon. I wanted it before that happened, and I would get it.
“How about you listen?” I asked, cutting him off. “You have my deal in front of you. Look it over. Call me back. Offer expires at five. You won’t get another one this good. I’ll treat you and your people right, Malcolm. You know you won't get as good an offer from anyone else.” I ended the call and sighed, ran my hand through my hair, and then looked up at Mrs. Beck. “If it’s time for milk and cookies, you’ll have to order in. And I want coffee.”
She laughed, a loud, bawdy laugh that didn’t fit with her demure appearance.
“No, sir.” Mrs. Beck patted at her beehive hairstyle.
She'd always had it, even though it'd gone out of fashion long before I’d even been born. It might've even gone out of fashion before she'd been born. But she didn’t care. I didn’t either. It suited her, just like the cat-eye glasses and the fifties-style dresses. She sat down in the chair in front of me and folded her hands on her lap.
“Jal, honey.”
Ah, shit.
She only got that tone in her voice for a few reasons, and they rarely meant good things for me.
My phone rang as if on cue. I hit the ignore button and turned it face down.
