9
Felise
I DON’T KNOW HOW I got down the hallway, down the elevator, and out of the hotel to my sister’s apartment, but here I was, in her living room, trying desperately to pull myself together. I was pacing back and forth across her Berber carpet. The tears hadn’t stopped coming.
“Okay, would you relax?” Fran said.
“That’s easy for you to say. You’re not the one that committed a crime,” I said frantically. I was so not a criminal. I’d forgotten to pay for a bracelet when I was fifteen, and I had an anxiety attack until I got my mom to take me back to the store to pay for it. How in the world did I think I’d be able to live with leaving a dead man without reporting it? “I’m such a lowlife,” I moaned.
“Oh, stop being dramatic,” Fran said. “What crime did you commit? I don’t think having a lethal kitty is against the law.”
I stopped and stared at her. That was not what happened between Steven and me. “This isn’t the time for jokes.”
“Okay, okay,” Fran said, raising her hands apologetically. “Sorry.”
I fell down onto her sofa. “I just can’t believe this.”
Fran shook her head. “Me either. Because I can’t understand how Dolly Do-Right,” she said, using the nickname she had given me after the bracelet incident, “would do something so scandalous.”
That had always been a source of contention between Fran and me. I was the perfect one. The one who always did what she was supposed to, and was always where she was supposed to be. Even our older sister, the ultra-religious Mavis, got in more trouble than I did. But Fran was the wild one, and our parents—God rest their souls—never let us forget who they preferred: me.
“I can’t believe I did it either.” I sighed. “I was just so mad at Greg for forgetting our anniversary, and I was so sick and tired of being neglected, and then I bumped into Steven at the bar, and he was mad at Paula, and we both had been drinking and . . . and . . .” I buried my face in my hands. “What have I done?”
Fran leaned back and inhaled. “Well, I’m not surprised that you finally stepped out on Greg. The way he neglects you, I’m surprised you hadn’t done it already. But I just can’t believe you did it with Steven.”
“I’ve got to come clean,” I said with finality. I didn’t have any other option. I couldn’t carry this guilt around.
“And why would you do something stupid like that?” Fran asked, perplexed. “You cleaned up the place, right?”
“Yes, but I should have called for help.”
“Why? You said yourself that he was dead. He was still going to be dead whether you reported it or not, so why should you get in trouble, too?”
We were interrupted by the doorbell. I froze as images of police bursting in to take me into custody flashed in my head.
I jumped up. “Who is that?”
“Calm down. It’s just Mavis.” Fran got up and headed toward the door.
Now I really was ready to run. My older sister was as bad as the police. Since our parents died in a car crash when I was in college, Mavis had taken over the role of mother and, most of the time, had taken it way too far. “Mavis? Why didn’t you tell me she was coming over here?”
“Because I didn’t know you were coming over. You were supposed to be going home, remember? Mavis was already on her way over to pick up some money I owe her. You know she’s like Tony Soprano when it comes to getting her money back.”
I took a deep breath, trying to calm my nerves. “Don’t tell her,” I said. “I can’t take her judging me.”
Fran put her hand to her mouth. “Oops, too late.”
“Ugh, do you have to tell everybody everything?”
“I was on the phone with her when you called, and she wanted to know what was wrong. I tried to tell her nothing, but she didn’t believe me. I told you, she’s Tony Soprano. She strong-armed me.”
The doorbell rang again, and we heard Mavis’s muffled call. “I hear y’all in there. Open this door!”
Fran shrugged at me, then opened the door.
Mavis didn’t even speak to Fran as she rushed toward me. She looked so much like my mother it was eerie—full-figured, beautiful smooth skin, and a head full of naturally curly hair. If I didn’t know better, I would think it was my mother coming to be by my side.
I took a step back because my sister had been known to smack me back in the day, and I didn’t need her having any flashbacks. But she just grabbed me and hugged me tightly. “Oh, Lord, Felise. What have you gotten yourself into?”