The Cocktail Club (13 page)

“Hey, Felicia, what's going on?” I answered.

“Hey, lady, checking on you. Wanna see if we're still on for happy hour tonight?”

“I'm sitting right here at work counting down the minutes. Are we still going?”

“Well, I've already talked to Peta and Darby, and they're cool with it. We wanna take the party over to Mr. Peeples tonight,” Felicia said.

She didn't have to work to convince me. After the madness at work, she'd be lucky if I waited for happy hour. I was tempted to take my flask into the bathroom, and get a jump-start on the festivities.

“What time are we meeting, 'cause I can't wait 'til six-thirty this week?” I asked.

“Oooh, one of those days, huh? I hear it all in your voice.”

“It's all over my face, too.”

“Well, girl, I've got one for you tonight for sure,” Felicia said. “I may tell them to simply open your mouth and pour the liquor straight in with no chaser.”

PETA

“You have got to be kidding me!”

I leaned back in my chair and tried to absorb the information.

“Please, let me get a pen,” I said. My voice was very shaky, and I tried not to sound too emotional.

I struggled to keep up and not break down.

“Do we know how this happened?”

“No, ma'am,” the officer said.

“Okay, well, it's just that we've used that lot for nearly four years now, and we've never had anything like this happen before.”

“I understand, ma'am. The damage to the trucks is pretty significant, and I'm afraid you might have lost inventory if it's kept inside the vehicles.”

“Damn! Yes, my inventory is kept inside the vehicles. Do I need to go somewhere and see what's missing?” I asked.

“No, not unless you want to. We have the drivers there and they're providing us with quite a bit of information. If we need you to fill in the blanks, we'll be in touch.”

“Oh, okay, but I need a police report for the insurance company, right?”

“Yes, and you can come by and pick that up, or I can make arrangements to send it to you electronically.”

I felt like I was going to be sick. Someone had vandalized two of our trucks. I needed to talk to Beverly and Cecily. I couldn't
believe that someone had destroyed what I had worked so hard to create. This was going to put me in a bind. Of course insurance would cover the loss, but that process would take so long, and I needed to start repairs and restocking.

“Kendal!”

After I screamed for my daughter, and she didn't come running, I realized she was probably upstairs with earphones on. I needed to go and see about the trucks. Before I left, I logged on to check my bank accounts. I frowned a bit when I still didn't see the automatic deposit from Kyle for child support.

There were only a few things that were as certain as clockwork, and his checks were one of them. It wasn't until the other day that I realized the money had not hit my account. When I went back to the previous month, Kyle's payment was posted by the twenty-eighth of each month.

“I wonder what the hell is going on.” Since I didn't have time to investigate it at that moment, I decided to figure it out later.

I rushed upstairs and walked into my daughter's room. She jumped and snatched off the headphones.

“Hey, Mom, what's up?”

“You didn't hear me, but I called you. We need to run somewhere real quick. I just got a call. Two of the trucks were vandalized, and I need to go see about them.”

“Oh, wow, Mom!” My daughter frowned and jumped up from her bed. “Do they know who did it?”

“I doubt it, sweetie. We weren't safe at that lot, but I had no place else that could fit all four trucks.”

My daughter slipped on her tennis shoes and followed me out of the room. The business was my other baby. I felt violated and robbed.

“Thank God no one was hurt,” Kendal said.

I was grateful for that, too. The trucks, then inventory, could all be replaced. My mind raced with crazy thoughts about who would've burglarized my business. It was one thing to break in and steal the merchandise, but did they have to vandalize the trucks, too?

We rushed to the car and headed over to the lot. It was located off Highway 6 and Addicks-Clodine Road in Southwest Houston near the Westpark Tollway. By the time I arrived, the officers and my drivers were about to leave.

“Oh, there she is right now,” I heard Beverly say as I approached.

“I'm Peta Nixon.” I stretched my hand to the officer.

“Oh, yes, Mrs. Nixon.”

“Ah, Miss.” My eyes scanned his broad shoulders.

“Okay, Miss Nixon. Let's go over so you can see the damage to your property.”

I followed the officer in complete silence. I needed to see something quickly. In my mind, the damages were worse than anything I could imagine.

When we arrived at the row in the back where my RVs were parked, I nearly fell over.

“OH MY GOD!”

For a moment, I couldn't move. My limbs felt as if they were frozen in place. At first sight, the custom paint and wrap job was littered with obscene words that were spray painted over the large glossy pictures on the side of the RV. In addition to that, all of the custom tires were flat and several were slashed.

“This is awful!”

I was afraid to look inside. From what I had seen on the outside of the vehicles, I already knew the interior damage would take my breath away.

My brain couldn't fathom who would do a thing like that to me and my business. The neighborhood wasn't the very best, but again,
it wasn't like we were able to park anywhere. In the four years we'd been parking there, we never had any issues or problems.

“The property manager was just here, but he walked back to the office with one of the detectives,” Cecily said.

“Are the two of you okay?” I asked.

“Yeah, Miss Peta. Ain't nothing wrong with us. They called us out here when they found our contact information inside. Shoot, we wasn't here when this all went down,” Cecily said.

“This means we're off the job 'til you get these fixed?” Beverly asked. She motioned toward the trucks with her pursed lips. “I gots bills to pay,” she muttered.

I understood her concern, but I couldn't deal with that. I needed to assess the damages and the loss before I could determine when we'd be back on the road.

My eyes caught another glimpse of the damaged RVs, and my heart began to crumble. As Beverly went on about the state of the economy and her missed income, I moved toward my vehicles. Several windows were shattered. Why anyone would want to bust out the windows was beyond me. They'd still have to be replaced. The doors looked like they were dented in several places and no longer fit the frames.

“You don't want to go in there.” Cecily touched my arm. “It's a mess. These are your babies, and I don't know why anyone did what they did. Let us get someone out here to clean things up first.”

I appreciated what she said and what she was trying to do. “I wanna see,” I said.

“The upholstery is ripped to shreds and paint was splashed all over everything. If I didn't know any better, I'd say that this was a personal attack. I'm no detective, but I'd start checking on possible enemies.”

Cecily had my attention with that comment. I had no enemies that I could think of. In this city, I didn't even have competition. My Boutiques on Wheels were unique, and the only mobile fashion stores, so I didn't know what to think.

“My mom doesn't have any enemies,” Kendal said. “Do you, Mom?”

That's when I remembered she was there with me. I had fully intended to go in and survey the damages for myself until I realized she had tagged along.

“No, honey, I don't. You know what? On second thought, as long as you and Beverly are fine, I'll let the police and insurance handle the rest of it.”

“That's probably the best thing to do. Seriously, it's a mess in there. Besides, we're both going to take inventory and give you a detailed list of everything that's missing and or damaged,” Cecily said.

How could I thank her for her work?
I stood numb. She reached over and rubbed my back.

“Miss Peta, we'll take care of this. Take your daughter on home,” said Cecily.

Of course dollar signs burned into my brain. Even before anyone confirmed it, I realized this would cost me a mint. I took one final glance toward the vehicles and turned to leave.

“Are we getting paid to help with the clean up?” I heard Beverly ask.

I couldn't deal with that question at that moment. I'd have to come up off some serious cash before the insurance company cut a single check. That reminded me that I needed to call and see what was going on with Kyle's check that still hadn't come in.

DARBY

I
ignored yet another call from Roger. I was sick of him, sick of my mother, and the rest of my entire damn family. I stayed away from them since I didn't need the constant reminder.

When I'd walk into my mom's house, it was as if I had walked through a time capsule. The place looked like a shrine. There were pictures of us all in there, but the number of Darlene's pictures were ridiculous. My mother had gone way over and above. It was the main reason I colored my hair. I hadn't forgotten Darlene. I simply understood that I needed to move on. My plan to avenge her death would've worked like a charm, and I wasn't completely convinced that it wouldn't still work. Or at least that's what I continued to tell myself.

My meeting with Kevin Jr.'s teacher was at two forty-five. After meeting with Principal Johnson, his solution was yet another meeting with the teacher. I had already done a conference call with Carla and several of her coworkers, and thought I was about to go and soak in the tub when the doorbell rang.

“Who is it?” I asked.

I stopped when there was no answer. I wasn't in the mood for any drama. It was obvious my bath would have to wait.

I dragged myself to the front door, and wanted to kick myself when I pulled the door open. I thought it was Carla, but I was wrong.

“What are you guys—” I shook my head.

My overbearing mother barged her way into my house, and my brother was right behind her. I stood at the door and tried to contain my fury.

Roger was so wrong for this.

“You have got to stop this right now!” my mother yelled. I thought she was in the kitchen, but to my surprise she was at the mantel in the family room. She moved from one picture to the next. There weren't nearly as many as she had, but enough to see the progression of my young family.

The sight of my mother made me feel bad. It was wrong to keep the kids from her, and my entire family, but I couldn't trust that they wouldn't bad mouth me in front of my kids, and I couldn't have that.

“Your sister would've been a great mother,” my mother said. She still hadn't turned to face me. “But she didn't get that chance. Her life was taken away in her prime.” She sobbed.

I threw daggers at my brother with my eyes.

He shrugged like this was beyond his control, but that, it wasn't. He didn't have to bring my mother to my house. He knew what she was going to do.

When my mother finally turned to me, she looked at me with disgust or hatred in her eyes. It was hard for me to tell the difference. She couldn't even look at me for long. She turned back to the pictures.

“Darby, are you still betraying your family? Are you still bringing shame to us all?” she asked. Her back was still to me as she studied the pictures.

Oh, the theatrics. I would never outright disrespect my mother, but we would never see eye-to-eye on so many things. Nearly three years ago, I simply decided to put distance between us.

“I'm not betraying anyone.”

“Does your husband know? How do you sleep at night?” She finally faced me again. Her lips trembled as she spoke. “This is not the way to deal with your grief!”