Again (6 page)

She rushed from her bed to turn on the wall switch. The sudden wash of white light made her blink. Everything was as it should be: the bed, dresser, rattan chair, her bookcase and nightstand, on which lay the mystery novel she had started several nights ago. The normalcy of the room said that nothing was wrong.

She opened her palm to see what she already knew was there.

A spot of blood, thick and warm, lay in the middle.

She told herself that she had loosened something in her lung.

But when she looked up, she caught sight of her mirror image. It pulled at her, drew her away from the wall. She walked slowly to the dresser mirror, her eyes focused on a space on her neck. When she moved in front of the mirror, she bent forward to stare at the small streak of red that lined the middle of her neck.

She reached to touch it, and blood came away on her finger. She wiped it off and nothing remained. Her neck was not cut.

But she didn’t know how the blood had gotten there.

By the time she fell asleep again, she had almost convinced herself that it was nothing. Almost, but not quite.

“A
pril, hold still.” Tyne bent to straighten the train that had been veering to the left as April walked between the tables in the reception hall. The silk panel tended to sway too much and hitch on April’s side. Other than that, the bride was perfect. Luckily no one had paid much attention to the errant train during the ceremony. They had been too entranced by April herself, her glow, her smile. Tyne imagined that love was personified in her sister today, every nuance of it. The girl was just beautiful. She dabbed at a tear building in the corner of her eye. She had on waterproof mascara as a precaution, but still she didn’t like appearing so emotional. Today was a day for joy; she managed to put other, more disturbing thoughts away.

April gave her a quick peck on her cheek, then said, “Don’t worry about that damn thing. Go on and get you something to drink, stop following me around.”

“I’m your maid of honor, I’m supposed to follow you around…” but before Tyne could finish the sentence, her sister walked away, winking over her shoulder. Tyne felt as though her sister was walking away for good.

Tears had run during the ceremony, and even before as she helped April dress. Amid the excited retinue of bridesmaids, April had been the serene one, calmly reveling in her moment. When she turned from the mirror and smiled at Tyne, Tyne saw the little twelve-year-old pest who used to follow her around, trying to act all grown with her little, skinny knock-kneed self. Then as April stood there, she morphed into a beautiful woman on the verge of a new life, and Tyne realized their sister-friendship was going to change. With that knowledge, the tears flowed until April came and put a comforting arm around her and whispered, “It’s all right. I’m still your little sister.” Tyne had blinked, wondering at her sister’s sudden sixth sense.

Nearly two hundred guests now filled the Preston Bradley Hall in the Cultural Center. Lights from the hanging Tiffany lamps sparkled against the zodiac signs on the Tiffany-domed ceiling while mosaic scrolls and rosettes adorned the supporting arches. In front of one of these arches, a seven-piece band was playing “Misty.” Hundreds of white-linen covered tables sat in the center, where guests sat eating, laughing, and talking. The voices echoed up to the dome, throughout the hall. On the dais that had been set up for the wedding party, the bride rejoined her groom, her hand softly caressing his arm as she sat down next to him. Donell had trimmed his dreads, and looked both nervous and handsome in his tuxedo. Then he smiled at April, and no one else existed for him.

Tyne stood beneath one of the arches taking a breather. She peered around the room, taking in the overwhelming elegance. Crystal glasses, gold silverware, white silk napkins folded in the shape of birds of paradise…. April and Donell had gone all out for their fairy-tale day. The hall was actually a gift from April’s employer, the Chicago Department of Tourism, where April was an assistant director and which was housed on the first floor of the Cultural Center. April hadn’t had to pay for the reception hall at all.

Tyne spotted her mother and Tyrone dancing among the throng of bodies on the floor to the right of the dais. Her brother towered over their mother by two feet and moved to accommodate the difference. Her mother was beaming up at him, at one point putting a hand to his cheek. She was proud. Tyne could see that from where she stood. Tyrone had stepped into their father’s shoes today, walking April down the aisle, smiling proudly as though she were his daughter instead of his sister. Their father, Ernest Jensen, had died of a heart attack nearly eight years ago when April was still a teenager. Since then, Tyrone had assumed a protective role over their sister, which sometimes made her rebel. Today, though, April had welcomed her brother’s arm as he led her to Donell.

Tyne looked around to try to spot Tanya, but she didn’t see her sister anywhere. Tyne, Tyrone, and Tanya, the three T’s, born in that order, all three names chosen by their father. April had been christened by their mother; she had insisted since she knew April would be their last. Her parents had done well by all their kids. Tyrone was holding his own as a freelance photographer, while Tanya was a metallurgical engineer at Wode Metallurgical Laboratories. All were successful in their own right, even though at times Tyne felt like the laggard in the sibling race. Sometimes she found herself simultaneously proud and envious, then had to remind herself that she’d made choices that put her where she was today.

Maybe being laid off would be a blessing in disguise. She would be forced to take that dangerous step and move out on her own without a safety net. Freelancing like Tyrone, actually going out in the field and finding stories, submitting articles, and not just sitting at a desk all day checking numbers and facts. Lord knows, Stan wasn’t about to give her that chance. Not without some horizontal prompting on her part. Even if by some miracle he played fair and gave her a break, how many people would actually read her articles? Community newspapers were hardly stepping stones to Pulitzers.

“OK, what’re you doing standing here all alone?” Tanya came up beside her. Tanya’s braids were intertwined with pearls and a rope of emerald-colored gems. The effect was regal. They were both wearing the green satin that April, to their dismay, had chosen, though Tyne’s shade was darker.

“You wishing you were up there with somebody of your own?” Tanya said, leaning her head against Tyne’s cheek for a moment. She was holding a half-filled glass of champagne.

“No more than you,” Tyne countered, reaching to grab her sister’s champagne glass, but Tanya deftly held it out of the way.

“Get your own. Anyway, you’re the oldest. More pressure from the mama-that-be. I have a few good years before I take that step. If I take it at all. I’m comfortable with the way Jason and I are now.” Tanya sipped her drink. “Besides, you’re the one who wants the house and kids. It’s funny when you think about it. April was the one who wanted to be out clubbing and dipping and now look at her. An old married woman. Goddess, doesn’t she look beautiful, though?”

“Yes, she does,” Tyne answered. Both sisters looked wistfully at their youngest sibling, who was gazing at her groom as though he were a jewel unexpectedly cast her way.

“Thank the Lord that’s not Kendrick up there with her, otherwise I’d have had to say something in church.” A slight bitterness edged Tanya’s voice. Tyne understood. They had both received the late night calls after yet another beating, had gone to the emergency room with April to have the doctors fix blackened eyes, a busted lip, and once a broken arm.

“I really didn’t think we would see this day,” Tyne said softly.

“Neither did I,” Tanya matched her sister’s tone. “She came through some shit, but I guess she had to in order to know what a shit-free world smells like. Now, she can appreciate a man who doesn’t have to kick her ass to make himself feel big.”

Later, Tyne toasted her sister and her new husband followed by Donell’s friend and best man, Byron, whose voice shook as he congratulated the couple. Even much later, April stepped down from the dais, finally leaving her man for a moment to mingle with some of her guests. Tyne kept by her side, at intervals smoothing out that damnable panel. She had just stooped for what seemed the hundredth time, then straightened up to see a couple approaching them.

The thing that immediately struck her was what an attractive pair they made. The woman was model tall, long-limbed, full lips, shimmering brunette hair that swung about her shoulders. The man stood slightly taller, with dark brown hair, Mediterranean features, and eyes so light they shone in contrast to his olive skin. The woman stared at Tyne the entire time during her approach. The engagement of eyes made Tyne nervous as she quickly realized she was being checked out and not just casually. Without ceremony, the woman came up and gave April a tight hug and April hugged her back just as enthusiastically.

“Sherry, I’m so glad you came,” April said, pulling back with a smile.

Sherry laughed slightly. “Like you would have forgiven me if I hadn’t. You are absolutely gorgeous in that dress and the wedding, God, was beautiful!”

“Thanks,” April beamed. “Sherry, this is my sister and maid of honor, Tyne.”

Sherry held out her hand. “Nice to meet you.”

Tyne shook the proffered hand, noting uncomfortably that Sherry held on for a fraction too long.

“Hello, nice to meet one of April’s friends,” Tyne said, pulling back her hand quickly, but smoothly enough not to offend.

The woman’s smile widened and she cocked her head. “Tyne. That’s an unusual name. Lovely.”

“Yeah, my father’s choosing,” Tyne said, uneasy under the woman’s scrutiny.

Tyne noticed that the man was also staring at her, his gaze searching her face. He seemed familiar, but she didn’t know where she might have seen him before.

Sherry spoke up. “April, Tyne, this is a good friend of mine, David Carvelli.”

David nodded at April. “I have to agree with Sherry, you make a lovely bride.” He turned his gaze on Tyne again. “Your sister is an equally lovely maid of honor.” Something in his voice made his friend Sherry gave him a sidelong look, a glance Tyne couldn’t interpret.

“Thank you,” April said glowing.

Tyne felt David’s gaze. She glanced at him, met green eyes, looked away.

“I’m going to go find Mom,” she said. “Nice to meet both of you.” She headed through the crowd, knowing that she was shirking her duties again. But David Carvelli made her uneasy.

Back at the table, Sherry nudged David as he moved the herb chicken around on his plate with a fork. He wasn’t hungry. Actually, he had lost his appetite.

“So, it seems we have the same taste,” Sherry said teasingly.

Dave knew whom she was referring to. “What’s wrong with looking at a beautiful woman?”

“Nothing, except you weren’t just looking. You were practically enthralled. I think you chased her away.”

“Well, if she was running away from me, I don’t know why. Maybe she didn’t like your little come on. I saw that hand thing.”

“Hey, I wasn’t hitting on her,” she smiled. “OK, well, maybe a little. Between the two of us, she probably thought we were going to invite her to a threesome.”

David ran a finger along the rim of his glass. “I don’t know. I’m pretty sure I’ve seen her somewhere before.”

“Hey, most men think they’ve seen a beautiful woman somewhere before. Probably in your dreams.”

“No…” he said thoughtfully. He stared among the cluster of bodies until he spotted her several tables away. She was sitting with an older woman and at least three other people. Her profile was to him. She was smiling, talking.

He couldn’t explain his reaction. She was beautiful, but not particularly his type. It wasn’t her color. He had dated a black woman before, although that experience hadn’t gone down well. No. It was something else. A feeling that was nagging him to distraction.

He’d had this response once before. As a matter of fact, Sherry had been with him that night, too, part of the favor he owed. It had been an awards ceremony for Chicago architects held at the Fairmont a couple of months back. He’d taken a breather, stepping out into the foyer. After a few seconds, a woman had come out of another reception hall almost at the same time. They had both looked at one another, and he stopped, the same sense of recognition coming over him. At first, she just glanced at him, then she stopped and stared for a few more seconds. And like today, she had quickly turned and reentered the room, leaving him alone.

It was the same woman.

He turned to Sherry. “She was there, at the Fairmont. That’s where I saw her before. Remember the awards thing I dragged you to? I saw her outside in the lobby. She was there.”

“Are you sure it’s the same woman? That’d be quite a coincidence.” Sherry turned to look at the subject of their conversation. “You’re probably confusing her with someone else.”

David shook his head, certain now that he was looking at the same woman. Just as he was certain that she had evoked something in him then that hadn’t seemed rational at the time. That he had stood there pondering the same questions in his head long after she re-entered her banquet room and left him staring after. Two encounters, the same reaction. The same woman.

“Probably in your dreams…”

He stood up suddenly, pushing back his chair. Sherry looked up at him curiously.

“What’s wrong?”

Dancers were going out on the floor again. He knew that he was going to ask her to dance. He wasn’t sure what she was going to say. Might even leave him standing there at her table looking like a fool, but he was going to take that chance.

“I’m going to dance,” he said, not bothering to explain.

“Good luck,” she called after him. Amusement was in her voice.

“Probably in your dreams.”
Shades of green satin and cinnamon skin…

His breath quickened as he navigated the tables to reach her.