Heart of Gold (3 page)

As usual, Diane was being short-tempered, giving Nathan grief for taking too much time wrestling not one, not two, but five pieces of green designer luggage from the trunk. His lips were set tightly in irritation. Bernadine stepped outside. “Hello, Di.”

She turned. “Oh, hello, Bernie.”

Bernadine hated being addressed that way, something her sister was well aware of but it hadn't made a difference when they were growing up, and apparently nothing had changed.

“Be careful with that bag. That's real leather,” she railed at Nathan, who'd just set the last of her suitcases on the walk. “Be glad you don't work for me.”

And Nathan, bless his heart replied, “I am, ma'am. Believe me.”

The stunned look on Diane's face made Bernadine chuckle softly. He'd just earned himself a bonus, but she doubted all the money in the world would be enough to offset the mental distress he'd undoubtedly suffered during the trip.

While Diane's eyes spit flames, Nathan silently carried the safari's worth of bags up the steps. “Where do you want these, Ms. Brown?”

“Just put them inside the door, Nathan, please.”

“She's not a nice lady,” he said in a soft voice.

“I know, and I'm sorry.”

“Yelled at me for driving too fast and then too slow. Every half mile she was complaining about something.” When he brought in the last bag, he asked, “Can you find somebody else to drive her back to Hays, please? I know it's my job, but—”

Bernadine nodded. “I will certainly try.”

“Thanks. Do you need me anymore today?”

“I don't think so. Roni's supposed to be in sometime this evening, but her text said she'd already made arrangements for the ride home.”

“Okay, then I'll be going.”

He passed Diane on the steps, acting as if she were invisible, got into the car, and drove off.

On the porch, Diane gave Bernadine a quick faux hug and an equally faux kiss on the cheek. “He should be fired for incompetence. So good to see you.”

“Same here,” Bernadine lied.

Diane moved past her and into the house. Before following, Bernadine took a moment to draw in a few calming breaths in an effort to convince herself that the visit would go well even though she knew it was a lie.

Inside she found Diane staring critically around at the living room. “Bernie, I don't like the way you have this room laid out.”

“Then it's a good thing you don't live here.”

“No, I'm serious. That blue chair would look much better over there, where you have that end table. And that gray lamp doesn't go with anything.”

“Thanks for your opinion.”

But instead of leaving well enough alone, Diane dropped her handbag on the sofa, walked over to the end table, and leaned over to unplug the offending lamp.

“Leave it be, Diane,” Bernadine gritted out.

Diane stopped in mid reach and slowly straightened. “I'm just trying to help.”

“Thanks, but I don't need it.”

“Well, okay then,” she replied, looking wounded. She took a seat on the sofa.

Bernadine blew out a breath.
And so it begins.
She'd always wanted a sisterly relationship with Diane, but it never worked out that way. Although Bernadine had refused to deal with the reality while growing up, she could now admit that her mother had favored Diane over both Bernadine and her now late sister Cecily. Diane had been the pretty one, the head cheerleader, the one with the Sweet Sixteen party. Had it not been for her father's tender loving care, Bernadine would've gone through her formative years feeling like an unwanted changeling left on the doorstep. When her mother complained about the difficulties inherent in shopping for her overweight eldest daughter (who just so happened to look exactly like her), or allowed Diane to make snide remarks about Bernadine's size and dark skin, her dad Emery would stick his head in her bedroom door and say, “Always remember two things, Dina—you're pretty,
and
you're smart. The grass outside's got more brains than your mother and sister combined.”

“In spite of the bad layout of your house, it's rather nice,” Diane said, breaking into Bernadine's reverie.

“Thanks. I think so, too.” Bernadine took a seat in the blue armchair. “So, what brings you here again?”

Diane waved off the remark. “Harmon and I are having an addition put on the house. A solarium.”

“Ah.”

“So I thought I'd come visit you, since I haven't seen you since the divorce. How is Leo, by the way?”

“No idea.”

“Really?”

“Why would I keep tabs on a man I divorced?”

Diane shrugged. “I don't know—maybe for sentimental reasons. All that money, I'd be trying to get him back.”

“I don't want him back, Diane. I caught the man screwing his secretary in his office when he was supposed to be meeting me for lunch—on my birthday.”

“It's Diana now, remember?”

“Oh, right. I forgot.” In high school, she'd decided to rename herself Diana, much as Diane Ross of Motown's Supremes had.
Well, so much for small talk
. “Are you hungry?”

“Famished.”

“Okay, let's go get some food. My treat.”

“I should hope so, since you're the hostess. Do you have someone to take my bags to the guest room?”

“No.”

“No servants?”

“No.”

“Didn't you get a fortune from Leo?”

“Yes, but why would I need servants?”

“Because you're rich now, Bernadine, and rich women always have them. Good grief, who's advising you?”

Bernadine knew from the moment her sister called that this visit wasn't going to go well, and it was already on its way straight to hell. “The guest room is down that hallway. We can move you in when we get back.”

Diane replied with an impatient, “Fine. Where's your powder room?”

Bernadine gave her directions, and while Diane was gone, she picked up her keys and purse. She also prayed for strength.

On their walk out to the garage, Diane's steps slowed upon seeing Bernadine's Baby. “We're going to lunch in a truck?”

“Yep. Get in.”

“Where's your driver?”

“Home by now.” Bernadine made herself comfortable behind the steering wheel.

A huffing Diane settled into the passenger seat and slammed the door. Smiling inwardly, Bernadine started the engine, backed down the driveway, and headed her beautiful blue Baby toward town.

On the short drive, Diane said only, “Why in the world are you living way out here in the middle of nowhere?”

“I like it.”

“With all your money, you should be living in Paris or some other upscale place.”

“I have an apartment there, another in Madrid, and a time-share in Maui.”

Diane eyed Bernadine with surprise.

Silence ruled for the rest of the ride.

As was usual on Saturday afternoon, the Dog and Cow's parking lot was packed.

“The Dog and Cow?” her sister asked, eyeing the sign dubiously. “What kind of name is that?”

“Long story. I'll explain later.”

Inside, the place was bustling. The jukebox was blasting “We Are Family” by Sister Sledge, and there was a long line of people waiting for tables.

Diane took in the surroundings and, to Bernadine's amazement, smiled. “This is nice, Bernie. Love the music.”

“And the food is as good as the atmosphere.”

Rocky walked up and asked Bernadine, “Heard anything yet?”

She shook her head. “No.” Thoughts of the missing Crystal returned, bringing with them a renewed sense of worry and melancholy.

“Okay. Hang in there. Should be able to seat you in a few minutes.”

“Thanks, Rock.”

As she drifted away, Diane asked, “Who's that?”

“Rocky Dancer. She's the manager.”

“Pretty woman. What was she asking you about?”

Mal walked up and for that Bernadine was thankful. She had no desire to share what was going on with Crystal with her sister. “Hey, sweet thing.”

“Hey yourself,” Diane replied before Bernadine could respond.

Mal paused. He eyed Diane.

Bernadine plastered a fake smile on her face. “Mal, this is my sister, Diane. Di, Malachi July. He's the owner here.”

“Hello, Malachi,” Diane purred, sticking out a hand and eyeing him like a decadent piece of chocolate cake she couldn't wait to enjoy. “Name's Diana. Such a pleasure to meet you.”

His features neutral, he shook her hand. “Same here.”

When he attempted to withdraw his hand, she held on and purred again, “Mal, do me a big favor and get us a table so we don't have to wait. I'm really, really hungry.”

His eyes met Bernadine's, and she shook her head. “We'll wait our turn like everyone else.”

“Thanks, baby doll.” He rewarded her with a kiss on the cheek and whispered in her ear, “You never told me crazy ran in your family.” Stepping back, he said, “Shouldn't be long.”

Diane's hungry eyes followed him through the crowd. “Wow. I'd move here in a New York minute if I had him to look at all day. Is he married?”

“No.”

“Divorced?”

“No. He's never been married.”

“Oh, lord. Please don't tell me he's gay.”

“He isn't.”

“Good.”

Bernadine rolled her eyes. She held off on revealing that she and Mal were an item. It would never cross Diane's mind that fat old Bernadine would be hooked up with one of the finest men in the county.

They were finally shown to a table, and after settling in, their waiter, seventeen-year-old Eli James, came over with glasses of water on a tray. He set the water down and handed them menus. “Hi, Ms. Brown. Any news on Crystal?”

“Not yet.”

“God. How can she be this stupid?”

“Now, Eli.”

“She is, Ms. Brown, and everybody in town knows it. We'll be lining up to kick her dumb behind when she gets back.”

Amused by his fervor but needing to change the subject before Diane got too interested in the conversation, Bernadine did the introductions. “Di, this is Eli James. Eli, my sister, Ms. Willis. Eli's dad is the town's schoolteacher.”

“Hello, Eli.”

“Hi, ma'am. You ever been to Henry Adams before?”

“No. Who's Crystal?”

“Ms. Brown's daughter. She ran away from home last night. Are you two ready to place your orders?”

Diane gave him a smile. “Let me check out the menu for a minute.”

He nodded and moved off. The smug triumph on Diane's face warned Bernadine of the impending attack. Sure enough, her sister glanced up from the menu and asked, “Crystal's the girl you adopted, right? And she ran away?”

Bernadine nodded tightly.

“I'm so sorry. You must feel like a terrible mother.”

Bernadine turned her head to the booth side window and focused on the view of the street so she wouldn't reach across the table and snatch her sister by the throat.

Without looking up from the menu, Diane added, “All those foster kids are on drugs anyway, you know. Maybe it's best that she's gone. I certainly wouldn't want that kind of drama in my home.” She picked up her water and sipped daintily.

Bernadine decided a line needed to be drawn in the sand there and then. She asked quietly, “Is this the home that was foreclosed on, or the one-bedroom apartment Harmon threw you out of?”

Diane choked and began coughing. Eyes frigid, Bernadine waited.

Eli chose to return at that moment.

“You two ready?”

“Yes,” Bernadine replied, smiling falsely. “What are you having, sister?”

Looking like a deer caught in poacher headlights, Diane quickly ordered a burger and fries. Bernadine had her usual. “The spinach salad with the house vinaigrette.”

“Coming right up,” he said, and left.

Bernadine picked up her water. Everything about her body language dared her sister to say another word. Diane's gaze went chasing off. Apparently she got the message.

Bernadine's phone buzzed. Praying it was Crystal, she quickly swiped it open. It was. Bordering on tears, her heart raced as she read:
I'm ok. Don't worry
.

Fingers fumbling excitedly, she typed,
Please call so we can talk. I love you!!!

Bernadine waited anxiously for a response. It never came.

C H A P T E R

3

A
fter sharing a lunch of grilled cheese and tomato soup with Preston and Amari, Zoey helped the boys clean up and then remembered something. “Shoot. Devon and I are supposed to check the fish.” Each month their teacher, Mr. James, assigned a pair of students to maintain the school's giant aquarium, and with all the drama surrounding Crystal, she'd forgotten. Technically Devon was supposed to help her, but apparently he'd forgotten as well. Since she'd had enough of his old-lady act for the day, she'd handle the task alone. While Amari turned on the big screen so the boys could resume their game, Preston handed her his lanyard with the key to the school attached on a ring, and she put it around her neck. “Are you going to be okay riding over there by yourself?” he asked.

She nodded.

“Be careful,” Amari added.

Zoey laughed and drawled in her still-prominent Florida accent, “Y'all sound like my daddy.”

“That's because if something happens to you, the first thing the adults are going to ask is, ‘Why'd you boys let her go by herself?' “Amari pointed out. “Brain and I don't need that.”

“I'll be okay. Promise.”

“Text us when you get done.”

“Good grief. Okay.”

Smiling, Zoey left to retrieve her bike. Since she and the rest of the kids pedaled to school every day, she knew the way with her eyes closed. Up the road that led out of the subdivision, and then a right turn onto Main. The school sat between Mr. Trent's garage and the rec center. Using Brain's key, she entered the building. She was always amazed by how quiet the school was when it was empty. Her first task was to check the tank's temperature gauge. Seeing the numbers were within the ideal range, she slowly poured the premeasured food into the water and watched the sleek, colorful fish gobble down their lunch. Pleased, she locked the door behind her, put Brain's lanyard back around her neck, and headed back up Main Street for home. She was just passing the church when she saw Tamar backing her green pickup truck, Olivia, down the drive. Tamar beeped the horn and stopped. Zoey rode up to the window. “Hey, Tamar.”