She spun away, nearly tore the door from its frame and stormed out. She stopped halfway and tossed over her shoulder, “He said to let you know that business is holding up his plans. He’ll be here at the end of next month. And I plan to see him when he arrives.” She pushed her way passed several clients and disappeared from Ann Marie’s view.
Ann Marie slowly lowered herself into the swivel chair. In control? When it came to Terrance Bishop control never entered the equation. She covered her face with her hands and for the second time in one day she wept.
Activity at the open door drew up her head from her hands. Barbara, Stephanie and Ellie stood on the threshold. They all tried to get through the door at once. If she didn’t feel so god-awful she’d laugh at the spectacle.
She quickly wiped her eyes, but not quickly enough.
“What is going on?” Barbara asked.
“Raquel went tearing out of here like her butt was on fire,” Stephanie added.
“Are you crying?” Ellie asked in amazement.
The trio hovered over her like moths to a flame. She looked from one concerned face to another, which only caused another fresh set of tears to flow.
Barbara knelt down beside her and drew her close. “Ssssh,” she soothed. “Whatever it is, it will be all right.”
“We’re here for you,” Stephanie offered.
“Absolutely,” Ellie added.
Stephanie sat on the edge of the desk. Ellie drew up a chair and took Ann Marie’s hand, patting it gently.
“He—he spoke to her.”
The trio looked at each other and then realization hit. All eyes widened simultaneously.
“Oh,” they chorused.
“I take it you hadn’t spoken to Raquel,” Barbara said.
Ann Marie shook her head.
“How did he get your home number?” Stephanie asked.
Ann Marie swallowed. “Him a police officer. If he got me job number and address, the home number couldn’t be hard to get.”
“But after more than twenty years what made him resurface now?” Barbara asked.
The question sat in the room like rotten food. No one wanted to touch it.
Chapter 3
Somehow, Ann Marie managed to get through the rest of the day without any more outward displays of emotion and even put in a few hours of work at the real estate office. Work was the best cure. If she kept busy she wouldn’t have to think and hopefully by the time she got home Raquel would be asleep.
She wasn’t so lucky. Raquel was sitting in the living room waiting for her when she finally walked through the door.
“I wanted to wait until you got home to tell you that I was leaving.” Raquel stood and that’s when Ann Marie noticed the suitcases neatly lined up near the couch.
Ann Marie lifted her chin. “Time you got back on your own two feet.”
Raquel snorted her disgust. “Figured that’s what you’d say.” She picked up her two suitcases and approached her mother. “You know, most little girls want to grow up to be just like their mothers.
I pray that I don’t ever turn into the woman that you are.” She brushed by Ann Marie and walked out the door that Ann Marie had never closed.
Ann Marie drew in a sharp, pain-filled breath when she heard the door slam shut.
On a night like tonight, with the day she’d had, she would have sought comfort in the arms of her man. But she didn’t have one.
A lie, or at least the omission of the truth, lost Phil to her. A secret, or maybe it was a lie now, lost her daughter to her as well.
She’d been so good at keeping secrets. Only sharing parts of herself that she wanted the world to see—including her closest friends. Secrets had sustained her, helped her to believe that her reality wasn’t true. Over the years she’d convinced herself that her life was perfect, just the way she wanted it. But there was a hole in her soul that she’d been unable to fill with men, work, fancy clothes, a good job. Nothing could stuff that gaping abyss.
She wanted to love and be loved but she didn’t know how. At times she believed that she was saving all her love for the right time, the right person. When the ice between her and Raquel had finally been broken, she momentarily thought that perhaps the love she’d been seeking had been found.
But love was the great betrayer. She’d loved her mother. She’d loved her husband. She’d begun to allow herself to love her daughter. They all betrayed her. They took her fragile emotions and crushed them, believing that Ann Marie Dennis Bishop didn’t need their love and affection. She was strong and independent.
She picked up a wine glass from the shelf of the étagère and threw it across the room. It smashed against the wall and cascaded into sparkling pieces.
What did they know? What did any of them know?
Barbara woke to the sound of a ringing telephone. She squinted at the digital clock on her bedside. 2:00 a.m. She groaned and fumbled for the phone.
“Hello,” she answered her voice thick with sleep.
“Hey baby.”
She blinked several times and turned on her side, a soft smile forming around her mouth. “Hey babe, yourself. Is everything okay?”
“Yeah, everything is fine. I know it’s late. But I’m just getting in. Listen, I want you to fly out to L.A. I’m going to be here for about a week and I want to show you off to the fellas.”
Barbara pushed herself up into a half-sitting position and leaned on her elbow. “California?”
“Yeah, I’m doing a commercial before I head out to Florida with the rest of the team.”
“Mike…I’d love to but—”
“No buts. When was the last time you took an all expense paid, spur of the moment trip?”
She giggled. “I can’t say that I have.”
“My point exactly. We could have some fun. You get to relax. I get to wine and dine you…and in between…”
She sighed as she imagined being in some fancy hotel with her rich and famous NBA fiancé, being courted around town in style. She’d definitely have some stories to tell the girls when she got back.
The girls. The spa. Her job.
“Mike, the spa just opened. We have our hands full. I mean today alone I must have done two dozen massages. We’re already looking to hire staff.”
He didn’t respond.
“Mike?”
“Yeah, well, important things first.”
“Don’t be like that.”
“Like what? Aggravated that you’d rather run your hands all over some other man rather than your own?”
She flinched away from the sharp edge of his tongue. “Michael! You know better than that. It’s my job.”
He muttered something she didn’t quite catch.
“Do I tell you not to attend