In My Sister's Shadow (3 page)

“Hello, boys.” Her deep, sexy voice broke the tension. “It’s nice to see ya, Dustin. Sorry, I’m late for your party. I had to pick up my girls here.” The four men rubbernecked, checking out the other two women like hawks.

“Oh, no problem, Destiny. Lacey was out here a while ago. I think she went upstairs for a minute. I can go get her.” He turned to walk back inside the house. Destiny grabbed his arm, “Oh, don’t worry yourself. I’m sure she’ll be down soon.” Destiny quickly turned her attention to Mark, who was now leisurely leaning against one of the porch pillars, trying desperately not to smile. It was too late, for now he was looking right through Destiny, at the woman with the slight grin behind her.

“Bijou…” he said softly, causing Destiny and their friend, Kim, to look back at the object of his attention.

There she stood, in a V-neck black tank top, straight-legged jeans and flat black sandals, a far cry from her previous vintage look several days ago. Her long, wavy hair flowed over her caramel shoulders; the screened-in open kitchen door allowed just enough light to filter out, and highlight the naturally crimped strands. Bijou continued to smile and looked away, down at the ground.

Destiny smiled precociously. “Oh, so you know this man, huh?” she asked, a slight knot in her voice as she shot a look between Bijou and Mark, repeating the observation several times over.

“No,” Bijou responded, raising her head slowly and staring Destiny in the eye. “I don’t know him personally but he…took care of Rhine. He works at the funeral home.”

Destiny nodded, a smirk still spread across her face. “I thought he looked familiar. He’s a funeral director?”

“Yes.” Mark leisurely picked his bottle back up and placed it to his lips. “I do a bit of everything.”

Destiny crossed her arms over her breasts and nodded. She looked at Bijou and leaned in close to her, whispering, while the men stood and watched. Marcel loudly cleared his throat.

“Uh, ladies,” he smiled coyly, rubbing his palms together like a fly. “Dustin didn’t let us know that any of his wife’s beautiful friends would be in attendance this evening. Can I get any of you a drink?”

Kim, a rich coca-cola brown, deep dimpled cutie with natural, tightly curled shoulder length hair, pulled up her falling yellow spaghetti strap from her sundress. “Yes, I’d like a wine cooler please.” She winked at Marcel, causing him to smile even wider.

“Sure thing.” He made his way towards them. “Anything for either of you?” He stared Bijou up and down, his lust almost tangible.

“I’ll take one too,” Bijou responded, her eyes still glued to Mark.

Destiny wrapped her slender fingers around her waist. “Nah, I’d like a beer.”

Marcus disappeared into the kitchen, leaving the men still standing there, jaw dropped.

Mark cleared his throat and moved closer to Bijou. She looked up into his eyes and placed her hands behind her back. Destiny observed them and made her move towards Kyle, who appeared to be panting like a dehydrated canine.

“So.” She crossed her arms over her chest, those mysterious, enchanting dark eyes once again grabbing his attention. “Small world, huh?”

“Yes, most definitely.” He grinned, trying hard to not stare at her cleavage. “I had no idea you knew my friend.”

“Oh, I don’t know Dustin or his wife. I just know Destiny. She’s my best friend. Her friend is Dustin’s wife, Lacey; they work together. I’ve been kinda…keeping to myself and she wanted me to get out of the house. You know, get some fresh air.”

“Well,” he looked deeply into her eyes, “you’ve been through a lot. That’s understandable.”

Bijou shook her head. “You look…different,” she said reticently, a smile extended across her lovely face.

“Hmmm, is that good or bad?”

Bijou laughed lightly, looked away at Destiny and Kyle who appeared heavily engaged in conversation, and back up at Mark. “It’s good, I guess.” She shrugged her shoulders. “Not that you looked bad before. It was just a bad day…so I guess I really wasn’t paying attention.”

Mark licked his upper lip and nodded. “Yeah, well, I know this might sound bad, but I
did
notice you. I do that for a living, so I don’t have the – ”

“Emotional attachment, I get it…” She looked down at the ground and rocked on her heels, seeming to disappear into deep thought.

“Right.”

He rubbed his chest lightly and looked quickly over his shoulder, peering into the night at the gazebo. The making-out couple was now gone. He gently took Bijou’s hand and led her down the deck steps, out onto the cool grass towards the gazebo. Just then, the kitchen screen door slammed shut, bounced then slammed again.

“Hey!” Marcel called out. “Bijou! I have your cooler!”

Mark detected an irritated tone to his voice. It made his newborn smirk all the more enjoyable.

Bijou turned back towards him as he waved on the porch.

“Wait right here.” Mark whispered lightly in her ear, tickling her, causing her to smile in earnest.

What a beautiful smile…

 He sprinted like a bolt of lightning towards the house and quickly grabbed the bottle out of Marcel’s hand, winked at him antagonistically and jaunted back off the porch – but not before he could hear Marcel calling him a “motherfucker,” causing their friends to snicker.

“Here you go.” He handed Bijou the strawberry wine cooler as they finished their descent to the gazebo.

“Thank you,” she grinned, twisting the pre-loosened cap off and inserting it into her pocket.

Mark watched as she put the bottle to her lips and slowly let the alcohol race down her throat. Then she moved it away, smiled and took another sip, her moist, soft pink lips wrapped around the chilled open neck, slowly taking the sweet buzz-causing liquid into her body.

“So.” He took a seat on the white gazebo bench and rubbed his hands casually across his upper thighs. “How have you been holding up?”

“Oh.” She leaned up against the side of the gazebo, and stared off into the long backyard. “It’s been hard. They say it gets easier with time.” She smiled sadly and shifted her gaze to the ground, “I’ve never had a loss like this before, though. We were sisters, in every sense of the word.”

There was a brief silence.

Mark leisurely scanned her from head to toe. His initial pleasure in her physical appearance was being added upon and expanded at an exponential rate. He liked her demeanor, the way she moved, her aura, her confidence; yet she had a slight shyness at the same time. Though dressed in modern day fashion, she still exuded old-time allure. To him, it made her extremely likable and attractive. The fact that she was a knock-out surely didn’t hurt.

Bijou caught his stare and grinned. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

“You two definitely favored. I was not surprised she was your sister.” He stretched his left leg out further as he kept his eye on her. Bijou turned away and looked back at him, a smile on her face.

“Yeah, we were told that quite often.”

“Do you have any other sisters? Or brothers?” He looked down then back up at her as he shuffled his feet. “I’m sorry if I’m asking too many questions.”

“No.” She waved at him and shook her head. “It’s fine. It was just she and I. I feel…guilty though.”

“Why is that?”

Bijou sighed. “Grief and guilt seem to go hand in hand right about now.”

“They often do. Why do you feel guilty?”

“Because once again, we were arguing before she died. That morning before she went into work, I…” She looked at him, her forehead winkled and lips drawn downward. “Why am I telling you this? I don’t even know you.”

“Maybe, because you think I might be easy to talk to and you want to get it off your chest.” He offered with a smile as he leaned back, placing his arms in back of his head.

Bijou lifted her chin and seemed to be examining him. She took another sip from the cool bottle and walked towards him until she was sitting right beside him. Mark watched her cross her long legs and play with the strap of her sandal.

“We were arguing about Mama.” She closed her eyes and shook her head. “It was so stupid, over whose turn it was to take her to the grocery store, of all things.” She placed the wine cooler bottle down by her feet. “Then Rhine went into work and…that damn storm came and knocked the power out, rattled the building to shambles. That happened all the time, but…this time, the building was shaking so badly it just fell apart.” Bijou quickly rubbed her eye. “And then, before we knew it, I saw it on the news. I was at work on my lunch break…and I found out from some stranger, some newscaster on the damn news saying that people had died in the school where my sister taught her third grade class. When I saw it…Mark, I knew she was one of them.”

Mark reached over and rubbed her arm. The light caress of his fingertips traced her brown flesh, providing complete comfort and empathy. “I’m sorry, Bijou, really, I am.” He looked at her, his lips slightly parted. “Things like this can really put things in perspective. Funny though, I bet she isn’t thinking about that argument.” He gently turned her chin towards him as he looked deeply into her eyes. “I bet she is just glad she had a sister like you – and that none of that, the silly stuff you feel guilty about, means much at all now.”

Bijou smiled and nodded. “I hope so, really I do.” She cleared her throat. “I’m not a religious person. I’m not even sure there is a God, quite frankly. But after she died, I was hopin’ that there was, so I could get a message to her, to tell her that I miss her and I’m just sorry about anything I ever did to hurt her.”

Mark gently rubbed her back. “It’s OK.”

“Thanks for listening. I hope…I hope she
really
did hear me. What I’d do for just one more hour with her, just one more…”

They sat in silence for several minutes. Bijou looked up at Mark and met his gaze as the moonlight and violet dragonfly bulbs illuminated her face just so.

“So, what’s your story?” she asked as she leaned back onto the bench, comfortably placing her head next to his shoulder.

Mark looked down at her, smelling her perfume now that she was only inches away.

“What do you mean?”

“I take it you’re not from here. Your dialect sounds different, Southern, but different,” she said softly, their lips in close proximity.

“Florida, I’m from Miami.”

“Muy caliente!” Bijou teased with a sultry laugh. “I don’t know Spanish, but I remember that from a movie.”

Mark smiled brightly. “Yes indeed. My mother is Colombian and my father is white. I lived there all of my life.”

“How long have you been living here in Shreveport?”

“‘Bout four years. I used to be a funeral director in Florida but wanted to move. I knew the ropes. My father owned two funeral homes back home. That’s how I got into it. It was a family business.”

Bijou nodded. “It’s kind of scary, don’t you think?” She tilted her head, her curls brushing against his chin as she smiled up at him. He wasn’t certain if she was flirting or not, but it sure felt like it and his temperature began to rise at the realization of the tantalizing prospect.

“Nah,” he shrugged. “I’m used to it. I was raised around it. Dead people aren’t scary. It’s the living that do more harm.” He laughed.

“That’s true!”

“So, what about you? You mentioned work, what do you do?”

“I’m a professional photographer. I went to school for it and love it.” She smiled. “I’m passionate about it.”

Mark was quiet for a few moments as he mulled over her use of the word “passionate.”

“Wow, so you have a creative eye as well…not that I’m comparing you to what I do, I mean, comparing your job to mine, I just…”

“I get it.” Bijou laughed. “No, they are similar. I just take photos of kids and high school football players, yearbook type stuff, but I do contract work, too, like company functions, weddings and private galas. I like taking natural photos of people, just doing what we normally do, nothing pretentious or pre-planned. I like to find things that are just happening, naturally. I also love a bit of nature, like storms, water, rivers…puddles…raindrops. There is something striking about rain to me. It takes a special eye to capture things like that in just the right way.”

They stared at each other, their faces gravitating even closer as the silence built for a minute or two. Mark cleared his throat and fretfully tugged at the collar of his shirt.

“I need to be honest with you, Bijou. I don’t get nervous around women, even beautiful women. I’ve seen plenty…Miami tends to cater to that but you are making me uneasy.” He grinned feebly.

“Why is that?” A budding smile appeared.

“I don’t know…there is just something about you. I felt unprofessional at your sister’s funeral because I couldn’t take my eyes off of you. And here you are again, making me feel the same way. This is untimely, I’m sorry.”

“No, no,” she smiled, showing her teeth. “You’re OK.” She gently patted his leg and reached down for her wine cooler.

“You’re just so…” He looked at her and shook his head slowly. “This is not a pick up line, I swear.”

They both burst out laughing.

“You are just so…” he continued, “so breathtaking. You are one of the most alluring women I’ve ever seen, honestly. You have the type of beauty that isn’t common. It’s traffic stopping.”