A Good Excuse To Be Bad (5 page)

I didn't like any kind of trouble, big or teeny tiny.

I decided to ask another question. “Is something wrong?”

Ava shifted her kids on her hips and spoke so soft I had to read her lips. “I don't know.”

Granted, it's not hard for me to read lips. All it took was a basic knowledge of the human face—which was fairly easy, since Ava and I shared the same face. Yet, I was confused. We were in the North Atlanta burbs. Ava was safer than an angel at dawn here. Yet, she just scoped my place like Satan was lurking behind the couch. She searched my eyes like our being twins never mattered, like I hadn't battled hell to save her or that Bible-spouting husband of hers six years ago. And the best answer she could come up with was she didn't know? Who was she fooling?

“You don't know what? Why you're here or where your husband is?”

She bit her lip. “I don't know anything anymore.”

“Well, you've come to the wrong place. Honey, you know I've been fresh out of answers since Y2K.”

She chuckled and shifted the kids again. “How about a fresh pot of coffee and a place to rest until I figure some things out?”

“Now,
that
I can do.” I pointed toward my staircase. “Why don't you put the kids upstairs? Lil' D and Taylor can sleep in the guest room next to Bella's. You can bunk with me. Whitney's room is the pits, so don't look at that mess. I'll pull out my generic instant coffee and some stale coffeecake that's been hovering in the back of my fridge. How 'bout that?”

She hesitated before she nodded. “Sounds perfect.”

As we approached the stairs, I thought of sleeping Bella. She had longed for another sister or brother since she realized all her friends had sisters and brothers. Why
we
women could not be satisfied with what we had was beyond me. Fortunately, she'd get her wish tonight.

From where I stood, all I heard was her soft snore and her vacation bible school music stampeding down the floor—this year's theme was Western Roundup. Their finale pool party was tomorrow. We had to giddyap by eight in the morning, so I needed to be asleep like now.

“Let me help you.” I stretched out my arms to take one of the kids from Ava.

She turned away from me and clutched them tighter. It reminded me of the time she didn't want me to play with her porcelain dolls. It reminded me of how awkward and unworthy I often felt around her. Why did I let her in my house?

“I wouldn't hurt them. You know that,” I said.

She nodded, but wouldn't release one child to me. Whatever.

I pointed toward the stairs. “After you.”

Once we reached the second floor, I stopped. “I'm going to check on Bella. Okay?”

She nodded with a slight hesitation again, then continued toward the guest room.

An old statistics professor of mine once taught me that over sixty-five percent of communication was nonverbal. Fifty-five percent of what a person meant was in their facial expression. Ava hadn't looked me in the eyes since she got here, and that last bob was suspect.

“Avalyn Marie McArthur?”

She turned around and winked at me. “I'm good, Angel.”

I sighed. That Betty Boop wink of hers always calmed me down. For a moment, we were little girls again, sneaking off at dawn to fish in our granny's creek. No puberty, boys, or any of those things that eventually separated us. We were in sync back then. Why couldn't it be that way again?

I winked back and then went to check on my child. Maybe Ava missed me as much as I did her. Maybe that's why she was here. Or maybe I was jumping to conclusions again. I'd been doing that a lot lately.

That's the only negative about being a retired reporter. I couldn't stop questioning every doggone thing. Like lately, I could swear that Ms. Hattie Mae, my neighbor across the street, stayed up at night watching passersby out her window. Or take Darlene Eades, the mother of three under three, two doors down. I had never seen her without a well-rested smile. Creepy.

Bella slept soundly. I kissed her cheek and left for downstairs. When I got down there, Ava wasn't there. I checked my kitchen, the den, every room, including the patio. So I went back upstairs to see if she needed any help with my niece and nephew.

But when I got upstairs, I couldn't find her there either. I found three suitcases, however. I assumed she brought them in while I was upstairs.

“Ava?” I searched the guest room.

No Ava. I went back upstairs and searched my room. She wasn't there either. Then I heard a car door slam outside.

I ran to the window and looked outside. I groaned.
You gotta be kidding me
. Sure enough, my perfect sister politely was backing of my driveway without a word. Gone again, but this time she left her kids behind.

My heart pounded. What in the world was going on?

I raced out the room, down the hall, and slid down the banister. It wasn't pretty and it chafed. Despite the discomfort, I yanked the front door open and stumbled onto the porch. But I was too late. She peeled off into the night just as I hopped off the last step.

“Avalyn!” I screamed at her taillights speeding down my normally quiet street. “I can't take care of three kids and Whitney.”

 

I
stood on my porch for thirty minutes, waiting and praying for Ava to come back. My hands shook. My head swam. My mind raced. My sister had me bent with few options.

I called her cell phone; she didn't answer. I wanted to call her house, but there was no way she was there so soon, and I wasn't sure if my calling would cause trouble. I wanted to call Mom, but then I remembered that if I did that, then I should also prepare for her to kill me, or worse, tell me how I continue to fail her as a daughter. Or, I could travel to Ava's place in Decatur to find out what was going on and, if need be, kick D's butt. Sounded good to me, except I had to tell Whitney what just happened.

I took a slow walk to her room. Our little sister was no joke. Unlike Ava and me, she grew up in Atlanta instead of the country. Because she had always lived in the city, she had very little patience, except when it came to Bella. Her whole logic about life was different than Ava's and mine, too. Although I learned to develop a thick skin, I believe Whitney was born to fight. At least that's what Mom said when she made her come live with me.

I knocked on her door.

She flung it open. “What?”

“You're awake.” I hopped back.

Whitney didn't look like Ava and me, not because of the obvious. We had different dads. She was longer, leaner, darker, and oozed sexiness. Even with her hair in a ponytail and wrapped in a bandana. She looked like Atlanta.

“I couldn't help but be after all that jumping and running Bella was doing in the house. Do you know when I went to her room, she was sound asleep? How does a kid make all that noise, then look so innocent and quiet in the next minute?” She shook her head, then tilted her head at me. “How much do you know about her daddy?”

“Whitney, it wasn't Bella making that racket, it was me, Ava, and her kids.”

Her eyes widened. “Ava's here?”

“Nope, not anymore. She left about a half hour ago.”

“Why was she stopping through this late? Did she and Devon just come back from a road trip or something?”

“Ava came here with the kids without Devon. She was dressed in a froufrou nightgown looking sad, real sad. I went to check on Bella, and before I knew what was happening, she left us with the kids and disappeared.”

She grabbed me and pulled me inside. “What in the world? What's up with her? Let me call her.” She reached for her cell phone.

“Wait.” I caught her hand. “Ava has a bruise on her face. She says it was an accident, but it looked like a handprint to me.”

Whitney reached for her shoes under her nightstand. “Let's go.”

“Hold on!” I snatched the shoes from her. “If it is what we think it is, we have to be careful. I think we need to call the Dekalb County Police first.”

“Bump the police. Pack up the kids. Let's go. I got some hurt for him.” She ran out the door and down the hall. “Meet you in the garage. I need to get some tools.”

“Wait . . .” Maybe I should have asked her to be my heavy last night when I needed it. “Don't you wake up those kids.”

The phone rang. I looked at it. It was Justus. I smiled.

Whitney returned to the room with the other cordless phone on her right ear and a grin on her face. “Hold on, Justus. She's right here . . .”

She stood beside me, muted the phone, then elbowed me without dropping any of the tools in her arms. “Why didn't you tell me Justus was here today?”

“Because I didn't have time to. Plus, Ava's disappearing acts almost blew my night with Justus.

“Your night?” She grabbed me by my pajama top. “Did y'all go on a date? And you didn't tell me?”

“No, technically no. He brought dinner here.”

“Shut the front door,” Whitney squealed. “And now he's making a booty call.”

I snatched the phone from her. “He's a minister. You can't say stuff like that.”

“Hmm . . .” She pursed her lips. “He's a man, ain't he?”

“Girl, get a grip. He is a man, not one of your wang-ster boy toys.”

“Whatever.” She looked at the phone. “I bet you five dollars he's waiting on the phone.”

I frowned. “And what would be the point of this bet?”

“As long as we've been talking . . . if he's still holding on, he wants more than just to talk with you.” She giggled. “Ooh. Why would he want you at one in the morning? You know what that means? He wants you for life, wifey.” She laughed louder.

“Stop it. Please get that thought out of your head.” I checked the phone to see if he was holding. “It probably has something to do with his niece. He came over here today to convince me to work for him. Apparently, some mysterious Romeo has her nose wide open. The child probably snuck out the house tonight.”

“Ttttt.” Whitney shook her head as she dumped a steel chain and two hammers in a duffle bag. “Been there, done that.”

I plopped myself back on her bed. “I can't help him right now.”

“So what are you going to do?”

“Tell him the truth.” I lifted the receiver and unmuted the call. “Hello, Justus. Is something wrong?”

“Everything is fine. Actually, I'm calling to find out if you're okay. I heard you screaming.”

“How did you hear me? Are you outside my house again?”

“No, not exactly. I needed to take a jog.” He chuckled. “For some reason, I couldn't sleep. Why are you awake? Is it because of Ava?”

“Are you psychic, too?”

“No, but I saw someone that resembled you back out of your driveway in the same nice car I noticed parked in it when I dropped by earlier today.”

“Oh, yes.” I shook my head. “Yes, you did. How is Kelly, by the way?”

“She's fine. She just got home. From where, I have no clue.”

“You gotta be kidding me.”

“No, I wouldn't kid about the real reason I'm jogging around the neighborhood at one in the morning.” He huffed. “I needed to burn off some steam before I returned home.”

“I'm sorry.” Whitney knelt beside me and leaned her head on the other side of the receiver. I rolled my eyes at her. “I know how taxing family can be.”

“I'm scared for Kelly, and that makes me feel helpless,” he said.

“Again, I know exactly how you feel, but I can't talk. I have to see about Ava. Something is horribly wrong.”

Whitney tapped my shoulder. “We need to get to Decatur before something else bad happens to Ava.”

“You're right. I do,” I said to Whitney, then stood up.

“What do you mean?” Justus asked. “Where are you going?”

I waved Whitney off again. “I'm going to Ava's home, to see if she's okay.”

“No, we all are,” Whitney shouted.

I turned to Whitney. “What did I tell you?”

She folded her arms and pouted. “She's my sister, too.”

“I know that.” I huffed. “Justus, I need a favor. Whitney has finals in the morning and she needs her sleep. Plus, if something goes down, I definitely don't want her caught in between. She's pre-law, if you know what I mean. And to be honest, I need a tagalong that won't piss Ava off.”

“I see.” Justus sighed. “Why don't you call the police? They're better suited for this sort of thing and they can arrive at Ava's within minutes. Realistically, you're an hour away. By the time we got there, who knows what could happen.”

“We?” I sat up straighter. “As in you would be my wing man if... ?”

“No, you don't.” Whitney shook her bag. “I'm ready to roll. He can stay here and watch the kids.”

I shushed her. “You're staying here and protecting the house.”

Whitney threw the bag on the bed. “Why don't you admit that you want a good excuse to be with Justus tonight?”

“Hush!” I tried to cover the phone, but it was too late. I cringed. “Justus, are you there?”

“I'm outside your house right now,” he said. His voice was deep and dark like Ms. Ida's six-layer chocolate cake.

“Now?”

“Nope, now I'm at your door.” He hung up.

The doorbell rang.

I held the phone in my hand. My mouth fell wide open. “He's downstairs.”

“Who?” Whitney asked.

“Justus.”

“Girl, stop.”

“I'm not joking, so you better cool it when I let him in the house or one of those hammers in your bag will mysteriously find your backside.”

I threw on a robe, bopped back downstairs, and opened the door.

“Angel . . .”

I had never met a man who could say my name and make me feel like a queen at the same time. My jaw dropped. His locks were pulled back into a ponytail. He wore a Polo track suit jacket with matching shorts. He hugged me.

I exhaled into Justus's close cuddle. I liked my new friend too much.

Justus released me. “Are you ready?”

I nodded and reached for my keys. “I'll drive.”

 

 

Justus and I sped down southeast I-85 toward Dekalb County. The Atlanta skyline vanished, returned, and then faded again into the night over hills and around curves and kudzu. The drive reminded me of Ava's disappearing acts earlier. What was going on with her? I was so afraid for what it might be. In my past, I had seen things, things hidden behind the sanctity of marriage, things that would turn a single woman cold to falling in love. My arms shivered and my legs twitched as I recalled those horrible things. I had to get to my sister fast. I gripped the wheel and floored it.

Justus sat in the passenger seat. I glanced at him. His jaw was clenched. I looked down past his legs. His feet were dug into my floorboard. My speeding had unnerved him. I shook my head in chastisement, then lifted my foot off the gas and slowed down.

“Sorry,” I said. “I'm anxious.”

He nodded. “No apologies. I understand.”

I smiled. I really liked the little bit I knew of him. I glanced at him again.

“Thank you for coming with me. I know this seems unorthodox, but I didn't have anyone else to turn to tonight.” I headed eastbound on Spaghetti Junction. “Whitney needs to be home with the kids and my mom is away.”

“What about the brunch ladies? Are you friends with any of them?”

“Not like I should be.”

“What does that mean?”

“It's hard for people who share their secrets with you on a professional level to also want to be friends with you.”

“Is everyone in the group your client?”

“No, but it's an excuse. I have many.” I sighed. “I need to do better as a friend to those women. I don't know how to be vulnerable and tough at the same time.”

“You will in time . . . I'm honored you thought enough of me to let me be here for you.”

“Well, you're my pastor.” I smirked. “If I can't come to you with this kind of mess, then what good are you?”

He laughed. “So true.”

I noticed the time on the dashboard. If Ava had gone home, she would be there by now.

“Could you use my phone to call Ava's cell for me?” I asked. “I want to let her know we're on our way.”

“Sure.” He reached for my phone, dialed, then waited. “Your sister isn't answering the house phone or her cell. Are you sure she's home?”

I nodded. “Call it twin-tuition. She's there.”

My gut, however, bubbled and screamed.
Don't go down there, girlfriend
. I sped up despite myself.

Justus gripped the seat. “Slow down, Angel. We'll get there when we're supposed to.” His voice was soft, yet stern.

I eased off the gas.

He sighed. “Thank you.”

“I'm sorry. Can you call my home and ask Whitney whether or not Ava has called?”

“Okay.” He huffed again. “I understand your motive for rushing, but I've heard great things about Bishop McArthur. I don't think he would ever hurt your sister. Is there a history of violence between them?”

“Not with them. With me. Devon and I have a long, bad history.”

“What?”

“It's a long story.”

“We have about thirty minutes to go before we reach Decatur, so take your time, literally.” He nestled into the passenger seat.

“Once upon a time . . .” I sighed, then told him about my life—why up until this week Ava had stopped talking to me, and the real reason I launched Angel Watch Bail Recovery Agency after taking a contract gig with Tiger.