Misty (17 page)

“Pardon me for staring, but I can't help it; you're as beautiful as an angel.” She shook her head in bafflement; her lips twitching into a crooked smile. “I'm in shock; I don't know what to make of all this.”

“Me either, but I'm not going to keep questioning it. I'm not looking a gift horse in the mouth. You dig?”

Audrey nodded, lingering near the wheelchair as if unwilling to leave it behind.

Misty glanced at the wheelchair and sneered. “I'm not a cripple anymore, and I don't need this despicable chair. The only thing I need right now is some retail therapy.”

•  •  •

With each purchase, Misty handed Audrey the bag, and the nurse didn't seem to have a problem lugging Misty's purchases. She actually seemed honored. When eleven o'clock approached, Audrey called the medical clinic, where she worked full-time, and pretending to be sick, she told someone on the other end of the phone that she needed the day off.

“It's so exciting being with you, I don't want to go to my dull job at the clinic.”

Misty nodded in understanding as she observed her reflection in a full-length mirror inside Neiman Marcus. Had she not been in such a rush to shop, she could have stared at her image for an extended period of time.

They walked a few paces and another mirror beckoned Misty. Unable to resist, she stood in front of it, running her fingers through her hair and admiring the new plumpness of her lips. The subtle slant to her eyes. There was even a slight change to the shape of her face; her bone structure was absolute perfection.

She couldn't help checking on her appearance each time they approached a mirror. It was if she had to be absolutely certain that the former, grotesque mask she'd been forced to wear, had not reappeared.

“Are you tired, Misty?” Audrey inquired.

“A little.”

“Do you want to go to the food court, relax and get something to eat?”

“Not yet. I'll rest while I try on shoes,” Misty answered and sauntered toward the shoe department.

Audrey's tendency to dote on her was the precise reason Misty had kept her employed. Now that she had her looks back, she expected everyone she came into contact with to bow down and treat her like royalty. Once again, all men would adore her and females would either envy her or develop a girl-crush. She suspected that Audrey was smitten, and who could blame her?

Misty sat in a comfortable chair while Audrey sprang into action, rushing back and forth, bringing her various shoes from the display table, and returning shoes that didn't meet Misty's approval. Serving as Misty's mouthpiece, Audrey also spoke with the shoe clerk, providing him with Misty's size and inquiring about shoe colors.

Audrey had always been kind and attentive when she considered Misty a helpless patient, but something in Audrey had changed, and Misty sensed the nurse had begun to admire her, and it wouldn't be a stretch to say she believed Audrey now idolized and revered her.

“My feet are starting to cramp a little,” Misty complained, testing Audrey's devotion.

“I'm so stupid; I shouldn't have let you do so much walking,” Audrey responded, berating herself for her lapse in judgment. She set a few of Misty's bags on the carpeted floor and she placed several bags in the seat of empty chairs. Then, she sat next to Misty. She placed Misty's right leg upon her lap, removed her shoe and began administering to her foot with a gentle massage. This drew the attention of other shoppers, but Audrey seemed oblivious to the curious glances.

When the sales clerk returned with boxes of shoes, Audrey was working on Misty's left foot, and seemed reluctant to stop.

“You can finish when we get back to my place, okay, Ms. Peabody,” Misty said with laughter. Audrey laughed along with her.

•  •  •

The dutiful nurse ushered Misty inside her apartment and made sure she was comfortably seated on the sofa with a cup of herb tea before she began lugging in Misty's purchases. After several trips from the car, she noticed Misty wincing.

“I think you overdid it today. Too much walking for someone who hasn't been on her feet in such a long time.”

“You may be right.” Misty flinched and grimaced.

“What's hurting—your feet?”

“Everything hurts. My hips, my legs, my back—everything.”

“Do you want to take a pain pill and lie down?”

“No. I'm afraid of getting addicted to those things.” Misty sighed. She covered her face briefly and then looked up at Audrey with tears in her eyes.

“What's wrong?”

“It's sort of embarrassing to talk about.”

Audrey scampered over to the sofa and sat next to Misty. “You can confide in me, Misty. Please talk to me. I'm here for you.”

“I thought Brick would be thrilled about the miracle that has happened to me. We haven't been physical in such a long time, and so when he came home last night, and after he got over the shock of me being healed and all, I asked him to make love to me.” Misty sniffled and shook her head. “He didn't want to, and I practically had to beg him. It was so humiliating, Audrey.” Misty covered her face again and made crying sounds, though she couldn't quite manage more than a few tears.

Audrey rubbed her back and murmured that Brick probably didn't
want to hurt her and she was sure everything would be all right in time.

Misty shook her head. She dropped her hands from her face and wiped nonexistent tears from the corners of her eyes. “He's not attracted to me anymore. We had sex, but his heart wasn't in it. He got his, but he didn't even care that I wasn't satisfied.”

“That's terrible. I don't know where he thinks he's going to find another woman as beautiful as you?”

“I know, right? Apparently, my looks don't matter to him. I knew it was too soon to be on my feet for so long, but I thought a new wardrobe would make me more appealing to him.”

“You can't jeopardize your health for that man. You have to take care of yourself, and I'm going to help you. Your transformation is a gift from above. You're obviously one of the chosen, and Brick should be honored to have a woman like you.”

“He used to worship me.” Misty shook her head regretfully.

“As he should have,” Audrey said in a hostile tone.

Misty sighed and stood up. “I'm really tired. I should go lie down for a little while. Would you mind helping me get out of my things? I'm too weak to do anything for myself right now.”

“You don't have to do anything for yourself when I'm around. I'm serious, Misty. I'll do whatever you need me to do.” Audrey put a supportive arm around Misty as she guided her down the short hall.

In the bedroom, Audrey helped Misty remove her top, jeans, and her shoes.

Misty turned around, signaling Audrey to unclasp her bra. She rolled down her panties and stepped out of them.

“Do you want to put on a nightie or something?”

“No, I want you to look at my body and be honest with me,” Misty said as she lay on her back.

“Be honest about what?”

“Does my body look all right?”

“It's more than okay; it's perfect,” Audrey said, dropping her eyes self-consciously.

“Do you think I'm sexy?”

Audrey looked embarrassed. “Everything about you is sexy, Misty,” she admitted with a bit of embarrassment.

Misty drew her legs up and spread her thighs. “Does my coochie look all right?”

Standing over Misty, Audrey bent at the waist and observed closely. “Uh-huh, it looks very nice,” she said with a mixture of shyness and excitement glimmering in her eyes.

“Well, what are you waiting for, Ms. Peabody? Kiss it, so I can start feeling better about myself.”

Fully dressed, Audrey climbed awkwardly on the bed and eased into the space between Misty's thighs. As Audrey administered to Misty's needs, Misty grabbed two handfuls of the nurse's hair, yanking her head right and then left, making sure her lips touched exactly the right places, and controlling the nurse's movements as if she were operating the steering wheel of a car.

“U
ncle Fabian and my Uncle Diaz took care of me when I arrived here in the States. They taught me everything about the game,” Sergio said as he cruised along the highway. The sun had not come up yet, and Anya and Sergio were only twenty-five minutes into a three-hour drive to the upstate prison where Sergio's Uncle Fabian was serving a life sentence for murder and drug trafficking.

Prior to asking her to accompany him upstate, Sergio had never spoken about his family, other than mentioning that generations of his relatives had been involved in the drug game.

“Did your parents send you to live in America because they thought your uncles could provide a better life for you than they could?” Anya asked, perplexed as to why parents would send a young boy to live with two criminal uncles.

“My parents were both killed in a drug war back home. A car bomb,” Sergio said softly, and Anya could hear the grief in his voice. “I saw it happen. My parents and I were going to visit my grandmother at the hospital. I didn't want to go; I wanted to stay behind and play soccer with my friends. My father insisted, saying my grandmother was very ill and that it might be my last time seeing her. I didn't think my grandmother was sick enough to die, and I figured he was exaggerating, and so I dragged my feet, sulking as I walked toward the car. My mother motioned for me to
hurry up and then my father turned on the engine. Boom! The car exploded and went up in flames right before my eyes.”

Anya touched Sergio's arm. “That's horrible; I'm so sorry to hear that.”

“Going through something like that at twelve years old was rough. My grandmother died shortly after my parents and that's why I was sent to live with my uncles.” Sergio stared ahead with a grim expression. “My heart was cold for a long time. I believed I had nothing to live for, and so I took risks that a young kid wouldn't normally take. My lack of fear is how I was able to move up the ranks so swiftly, advancing higher in position than either of my uncles ever made it in the game.”

“What happened to your other uncle? Is he in prison also?”

“No. Uncle Diaz was serving a ten-year sentence when he got knifed by inmates from a rival crime family.” Sergio held up a hand as if to say,
that's how it goes.
“Uncle Fabian is my only living relative, and I want him to meet the woman who has put a smile back on my face.”

With Sergio being so candid with her and sharing his painful past, Anya felt comfortable enough to talk about the tragic loss of her mother and the pain of not seeing her father in years. “I was very young when I lost my mother, and I was led to believe that she was shot to death in the midst of a robbery. But I discovered the truth only a few years ago. I learned while reading court transcripts online that my mother was kidnapped from the underground parking lot of her job. She was brutally raped, beaten, and then stoned to death by two psychopathic teenagers.”

Anya's eyes welled with tears and Sergio reached for her hand, caressing it tenderly.

She refrained from telling him that ten years after the crime,
she'd been able to exact revenge on one of the killers—that she'd tortured the man and left him bound and bleeding to attract rats that would surely eat him alive. Nor did she mention that she'd participated in a double homicide when her ex-lover, Brick, retaliated on the people responsible for disfiguring and paralyzing his childhood girlfriend. Not wanting Sergio to know about the vengeful side of her nature, she kept that information to herself.

“I sensed when I met you, that the two of us shared a painful past. The loss of parents is something a child never recovers from.”

Anya nodded solemnly. “You're right. I've always felt completely alone in the world with no blood relations who cared about my well-being.”

“You're not alone anymore,” he said softly.

She squeezed his hand.

•  •  •

Uncle Fabian was an older version of Sergio. They shared the same dark skin, the same bone structure, and the same ink-colored, silky hair. The uncle, who looked about ten years older than Sergio, had a thicker Spanish accent.

“Good to see you; how are you, nephew?” his uncle greeted. “This must be Anya,” he said, his dark eyes quickly looking her over.

“Yes, I'm Anya. It's very nice to meet you.” She gave him a hug.

“When I talk to my nephew on the phone, his speaking voice sounds like he's singing, and I asked him to introduce me to the lady who put music back in his heart. And here you are,” he said, beaming at Anya.

Uncle Fabian was a charmer, and Anya couldn't hold back a broad smile.

Throughout the hour-long visit, Sergio and his uncle reminisced
about the Dominican Republic, and his uncle encouraged him to revisit the island to preserve some ties with his birth place.