Color of Deception (2 page)

Chapter 3

Carlisha sat alone behind the front counter; she was busy inputting customer orders to send to the graphic design department. She was also trying to keep herself busy and distract her mind from getting too emotional. The store door chimed indicating someone had just entered. Carlisha rolled her chair away from the computer so she could see who just walked in.

“Good afternoon, how can I assist you today?” Carlisha greeted cheerfully.

An older black woman walked toward the counter carrying a huge arrangement of flowers, Carlisha guessed she was maybe in her sixties. “Yes, I would like to see Mr. Holmes. This is his business, right?” The woman asked, resting the beautiful arrangement of summer flowers on the counter.

“Yes it is. Umm, let me see if he’s available.” Carlisha was very curious as to why the woman wanted to see Pete, and she was even more curious about the flowers. “Can I tell him your name?”

“Of course, I’m Mrs. Bevins.”

“Okay. Please excuse me while I call him.” The name sounded familiar to Carlisha, but not enough to bring up any connections at that moment. She picked up the phone near the computer she was working on and called Pete’s office. “Hi Mr. Holmes, Mrs. Bevins is here to see you,” Carlisha said after Pete answered his line.

“Mrs. Bevins!” The recognition of the name was immediate to Pete. His nostrils started flaring with anger.
What the HELL does she want with me? How dare she step foot in my business!
“I’m not available!” Pete snapped. He ran his free hand through his mostly dark with just a hint of gray, straight hair. “Never mind, I’ll be out in a minute.”  Pete slammed down the phone. He didn’t care if it banged loudly in Carlisha’s ear. He was curious as to why Mrs. Bevins felt the need to come and see him. He looked back at his computer screen which had an image of his late wife on it. Today was the one year anniversary of her death. No one in the office seemed to have remembered, or they felt it best not to mention it to him – not that he gave them the opportunity to speak to him casually beyond business anymore. He was grateful no one mentioned it though; he’d been holed up in his office staring at her picture and obsessively re-reading her obituary all day.

“What is it that you want?” Pete demanded from Mrs. Bevins after he walked out front into retail.

Carlisha was a bit shocked at his tone to the business guest, but she wasn’t too surprised considering just moments ago he slammed the phone in her ear. She knew today was the one year anniversary of Mrs. Holmes death and figured his poor mood was because of it. She wanted to say something to him earlier, but thought it was best she didn’t, now she knew that she’d made the right decision.

Mrs. Bevins wasn’t as shocked as Carlisha was at Pete’s reaction to her presence, she had her own reservations about coming, but she felt it was best, regardless.

Pete stood at a distance waiting for Mrs. Bevin’s response. He was thankful there weren’t any customers in the establishment at that moment; he would’ve hated to scare them off. He did still have a business to run.

“Mr. Holmes I know you are still grieving your wife’s death, I am too, as well as the death of my husband. I just wanted you to know that I am still extremely sorry for your loss. I brought you some flowers; I thought they would be nice to place at your wife’s gravesite on my behalf,” Mrs. Bevins said, standing her ground.

“You think some damn flowers are going to make me feel any better about losing my wife?” Pete questioned angrily. He didn’t care that Mrs. Bevins was his senior or that she was a woman. All he saw was her black face. He could care less that she was grieving too, that today was also the one-year anniversary of her husband’s death.
If your idiot of a husband hadn’t had a heart attack or wasn’t drinking then we probably wouldn’t be having this conversation.

Carlisha listened and watched, peeking up over her computer monitor periodically, at the exchange. Despite Mr. Holmes grief she couldn’t believe how he was continually being so disrespectful to Mrs. Bevins. Her spouse died one year ago as well, she shouldn’t be spoken to like that. The business phone line rang distracting Carlisha from the scene in front of her.

“I know you’re angry but that is no way to speak to me! My husband died that day as well. I’m heartbroken just as much as you are,” Mrs. Bevins stated.

“Well it wasn’t my wife that crashed into your husband! It was the other way around!” Pete was done with the conversation. It was taking every bit of strength not to want to strangle the life out of the older woman in front of him. He felt that would bring him immediate pleasure, death to one of the
people
he now despised.

“My husband had a heart attack; he didn’t intentionally cause the accident…”

“Get out of my business establishment and take your flowers with you!” Pete demanded. He desperately wanted to pick up the vase and throw it against the wall to show Mrs. Bevins just how much he didn’t appreciate her presence or her pathetic sympathy.

“I will leave. But for your own good Mr. Holmes, you can’t continue on with bitterness, I don’t think your wife would want that –”

“How the HELL would you know what my wife would want?” Pete was livid that she would suggest that she knew anything about his dead wife. He walked toward the counter, picked up the vase with the flowers and slammed it on the floor. “That’s what I think about your pathetic flowers and your idiot of a dead husband.”  He marched back to his office unfazed by what he had just done. He felt justified in his anger and was sickened at the notion that Mrs. Bevins thought it right to visit him, especially on
this
day.

Carlisha, who was now off the phone, and Mrs. Bevins watched as Pete walked away. They were both completely dumbfounded by his actions.

“I’m so, so sorry Mrs. Bevins,” Carlisha said out of respect for the older woman and because despite the fact that her and Pete’s personal relationship was now nonexistent, she still saw him as a father figure and felt the need to apologize for his actions. “But you must understand today is a really difficult day for him.”

“It’s alright dear. Grief does crazy things to some people. I just wanted him to know that he’s in my prayers. I will continue to pray for him. God bless you sweetheart!” Mrs. Bevins turned and walked out of the store.

“What the heck just happened, I heard a crash?” James said after he ran to the front of the store.

“A vase fell,” Carlisha answered, still watching Mrs. Bevin through the clear glass window as the older woman walked to her car.

“Was someone arguing over a bill or something too? We thought we heard Mr. Holmes raising his voice.” James walked over to see the broken vase and flowers splattered all over the floor.

“I guess you could say that. Today is one year since Mrs. Holmes death, so he’s not in his best mood,” Carlisha told him.

“Aww man, it’s been a year? Wow!”

Carlisha picked up a waste basket and started to clean up the mess of flowers, broken glass and water.

**KC**

Pete knelt down on the grass. The area was slightly shaded from the hot sun by a small cherry blossom tree. He knew Moriah would love that. She didn’t like being in the sun for too long because she got sunburnt easily, plus she loved cherry blossom trees. She had dragged him out to the Cherry Blossom Festival every spring in DC since they started dating and they’d went every year together since.

Pete placed three dozen red, yellow and pink roses by the tombstone that read:

Beloved Wife

Moriah Sabrina Holmes

1970 - 2012

Tears streamed down Pete’s face to where he was almost blinded by them. “AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!” He screamed, and then he placed both of his hands to his face. He didn’t care if any other mourners at the cemetery heard him.
If they feel as terrible as I do they would be screaming too.
“Baby, I miss you so much!” He removed his hands from his face. “It’s been a year to date and I still haven’t gotten over losing you, I don’t think I ever will. I close my eyes sometimes hoping, wishing and praying that when I open them back up, that the notion of you dead and gone would only be a dream. But I open my eyes back to this constant nightmare. I don’t even know how I’m living each day. Everything without you here irritates me. I hate this world! I hate my life without you!” He sobbed and brought his arm to his face and wiped his wet cheeks and nose with his sleeve. “I love you Moriah. We were robbed of our wonderful future together. I miss you!” Pete adjusted himself and sat on the grass with his knees up. He wasn’t concerned about getting his jeans dirty. He picked up a book he had brought with him. “I brought that book you didn’t get a chance to finish reading, I thought I’ll continue where you left off and read a couple pages for you.” He flipped the pages to where Moriah had marked where she had stopped reading. “Chapter thirteen, ‘Love is the forgiver of multiples of wrong doings’, Rebecca told her son…” Pete began to read the book from where Moriah had left off.

Chapter 4

Hours later, as Pete approached his house, he saw a black kid and his white friend skateboarding along the sidewalk. The black kid, obviously not paying attention, suddenly skated onto the two way lane road. Pete saw him ahead and had a huge urge to accelerate past the twenty miles per hour restriction.
This punk thinks he could just ride his skateboard in the middle of the street. I should just roll over his stupid black behind!
Pete remedied in his mind gripping the steering wheel tightly. Then the picture of possibly spending life in jail for his crime deterred him from the fantasy of seeing the lifeless body of the black kid lying on the street. Then again spending life in prison wouldn’t be so different from the hell he thought he lived at that moment. Waking up each morning with his beloved wife not by his side felt like extreme torture each and every miserable day of his now life.

Pete blew his car horn profusely at the two boys as if each honk conveyed the cuss words that swirled in his mind. He rolled down his passenger side window, “Get the hell out of the street you idiots!”

“Sorry Mr. Holmes,” the black kid said with a surprised look on his face before getting back on the sidewalk. His white friend followed.

Suddenly Pete recognized the black kid. Pete used to be his little league basketball coach at the community center he and Moriah volunteered at. The kid was one of the best players on the team.
Dominic is his name
, Pete remembered. Pete rolled his passenger side window back up and continued down the road not looking back at the kids. After he turned left onto his street he noticed two vehicles parked in front of his Victorian styled home: a C-class Mercedes Benz and a Volkswagen Touareg. Of all days this was definitely one of them that he didn’t want any company. He wondered how long they had been waiting for him. They didn’t even call him on his cell to let him know that they were coming over. He thought of driving right past the house, but he didn’t know where he would go to kill time until they got the hint that he didn’t want company.

Pete pulled into his driveway and pressed the button on the garage door opener which was clipped on his visor so the garage door would open. He drove in, and then pressed the button again to close the garage shut.

“Welcome home!” Rachel said cheerfully after Pete walked in the kitchen from the door to the garage.

“Hmph! To a house that’s not empty,” Pete emphasized to his uninvited guests. “The spare key Moriah and I gave you all were for emergencies only, not to show up at my house unannounced,” Pete said standing at the door surveying the room. He noticed Rachel and her mother Leah preparing dinner. He took in the scent of the food cooking – it smelled delicious. It immediately reminded him of Moriah’s home cooked meals which he missed.

“Pete we came to eat dinner with you tonight. We didn’t want you to be alone on the anniversary of my sister’s death,” Noah spoke up. He was sitting in the family room across from the kitchen watching a show on TV.

Pete walked into the family room and sat on the couch with Noah. He threw his keys on the coffee table. “Someone should’ve at least called me,” he growled. But he couldn’t complain much because the food Leah and Rachel were fixing had his mouth watering already.

“Now we all know had one of us called you would’ve made up some excuse as to why we couldn’t come over,” Leah said, pulling out a pan of cornbread from out of the oven.

“I’m just saying – your spare key is for emergencies only…” Pete defended.

“And this is an emergency.” Rachel, pleased with her salad prep, placed the bowl of fresh greens, fruits, vegetables and nuts in the fridge.

“So how are things going at the business?” Noah asked while turning down the volume for the TV.

Pete relaxed into the couch, getting himself mentally prepared for having to engage with his unwanted company. “I need to hire a bookkeeper. My books are all screwed up and I keep forgetting to pay the damn bills on time. Moriah took care of all of that stuff so I never needed to worry about it – until now.”  Talking about his wife, knowing that she was no longer here still bothered Pete. That’s one of the reasons why he didn’t want their company. They we’re living reminders of the void in his life.

“I can come in and help you Uncle Pete. I took a QuickBooks class last semester and I really liked it.”

“Oh that would be wonderful!” Leah popped her chicken fettuccine bake in the oven. “I think your current part time job is interfering with your studies anyway.”

“No it’s not Mom. But if Uncle Pete wants me to be his bookkeeper it would give me more flexibility.”

Pete instantly wished he hadn’t mentioned he needed a bookkeeper. He didn’t know if he would be able to stand having to deal with Rachel at work along with her pestering him every Sunday and Wednesday about going to church. “I don’t know. I would prefer someone with more experience.”

“I studied QuickBooks for a whole semester and I’ve done payroll, reconciliations, taxes, all that stuff…” Rachel pleaded.

“Come on Pete, give her a chance. You just said that your books are not in order. At least give her a trial period to prove that she can handle it,” Noah reasoned.

Pete ran his hand through his hair.
What the hell? She probably won’t screw up things more than I have.
“Alright. You have a month to prove yourself. Three days a week, six hours a day, twenty-five an hour, start tomorrow.”

“Thank you Uncle Pete! I’ll put in my resignation for my current job tomorrow as well.”

“I said this would be a trial,” Pete said starting to get frustrated again.

“Yes – but I know I will do a great job. Trust me!” Rachel started to load the dishwasher with the dishes used to prepare dinner.

“Dinner should be ready in twenty minutes,” Leah announced.

Good!
The sooner the better so you all can leave me alone.