The Immaculate Deception (9 page)

Me thinks Juanita Wright is a tad bit full of herself. Her loss.
Perhaps the other one had better news. I opened the second self-addressed stamped envelope. I removed my one-page query letter, along with the first page of my manuscript, which I had begun to slip in so they could get a feel for my voice. Scribbled on the query letter, in purple ink, gel pen probably, was
Amateur
.

I moaned. My head throbbed over my left eyebrow and the pain zipped around to my right ear. This guy didn’t even bother to include a form letter. What, was my query and page one so repulsive that he had to eradicate them from his office? He couldn’t even shred them? I swiped the envelopes, rejection letters and birth certificate and stomped into the living room to my desk and filed them. I tallied up the two new query rejections. Eighty-seven down.
Never lose hope, Donna
. The one agent who believed in me was bound to come. And odds were, he or she was right around the next plot twist.

Back in the kitchen, I swallowed two aspirins, washing them down with the diet soda. Daddy always told me that aspirin plus caffeine was the quickest headache cure. He was a great
diagnosticator
. One of his silly terms. Daddy always knew precisely what ailed me and would have me on the proper antibiotic before I saw our family doctor. Momma worked as a private duty nurse at the Washington Hospital Center, on their exclusive 6–D ward, where people of wealth went. Anyhow, they dispensed medicine in little brown pillboxes and she’d bring the leftovers home in her pocket. So we always had a bolus of antibiotics on hand.

Daddy had always bragged about his pioneering organ transplant research. Too bad his patients had lost a dedicated physician when he lost his vision in the early seventies. And now I’d lost my daddy. A lump of mucus gagged my throat. I was so sick of crying.

Loping out to the living room, I plopped down in the chair at the desk built into a niche in the corner. My
Men Out of Uniform
calendar screensaver was half-blue and frozen. Of course it had to be the lower half of the screen that was blue. My favorite, Mr. July,
Firefighter Johnny
, was cut off at his six-pack. I sequentially pressed the
Ctrl, Alt
and
Del
keys, holding them down. Nothing happened. I tried again. Zip. So I turned the power off and then back on. I had been surfing when Daddy had called last week and then I had rushed out, leaving the computer on.

Yes, it booted fine. I clicked to check my email account. I was happy to see the little magnifying glass on the envelope icon. I was receiving mail. Just one message, from my roomie Ashley.

I clicked the reply button and began typing.

I clicked
send
, took a shower, dried off and went to bed naked. My throbbing head and the sun pouring in through the skylights interfered with slumber time. I stumbled to the bathroom and swallowed one more aspirin and two tiny pink and white Benadryl capsules. Washed them down with water though, the last thing I needed was more caffeine to keep me awake. I wasn’t taking Benadryl because of an allergic reaction and I wasn’t tormented with sinus congestion. But I knew there was a side effect to Benadryl that caused drowsiness and it usually knocked me out. Momma had taught me about it. There were many nights when she couldn’t turn her mind off and she relied on Benadryl. Now I was doing it. I crawled back under the covers. Of course, the phone rang. I checked the caller ID
Payne, Perry
. I growled and answered. “Hello?”

“
Oh-Donna, Saint C’s just called. They’re booting Chloe out if someone doesn’t come and sign a financial contract. The cashier’s office is open until four. Can you make it in time?”

I snarled my face into a ferocious sneer. Too bad we didn’t have video phones. “No way!”

“
But you’ve gotta go down and pay. Just give them a credit card or something. We can’t have her loose on the streets.”

“
Oh so you admit that she didn’t escape and kill Daddy then. Momma is not a deranged murderess and she does not belong locked up at the cuckoo’s nest! And why do you always think that I’m a billionaire?
You’re
the big important judge. I just do peon cog-in-the-wheel work, because I have no education, because there was no money for my college, because you needed it. And sweet pretty Tammy.”

My brother fired right back at me. “If someone dies or is injured because they let a mental patient loose, then the cops will go after you for not making arrangements. You will be the responsible party, Oh-Donna.”

I hyperventilated. Something ugly and nasty from deep inside of me spat out. “
Don’t you threaten me
.” I threw the phone. I heard a crack as it smacked my bedroom window. “No!”

Shaking all over, I stumbled across the midnight blue carpet and dragged the broken off-white plastic mini blinds back to inspect the glass. Good, I didn’t break the window.

I went to the medicine cabinet in the master bathroom and popped one more aspirin, just because. I couldn’t stop thinking about poor Momma. Oh what was it like in the mental hospital? Was the room cold and barren? Was she locked up in a ward with a dozen screaming women? Was she frightened? Did she have her pain medication for her back?
Oh Momma, I’ve got to get you out of there. Well, now if what Perry says is true, if nobody pays your bill, then they will release you. That will work. That is one way to spring you from the hokey- pokey. But then what? Do they just shove you out the front door and lock it behind you? What would you do on the streets of Anacostia? An elderly white lady would not blend in with the neighborhood. Wait, don’t you still have some friends there from the old days? Could you walk to their house? Do you have your purse? Could you pay for a cab ride home? Wait, I have your purse, with the keys, wallet and all.
Tears of guilt flowed down my cheeks. I was drowsy, the Benadryl was finally kicking in.
I’ll come and get you, Momma. But tomorrow. I can’t drive like this.

Back in my bedroom, I turned on some soothing-sounds music, waves. I jabbed my finger on the
cooler
button on the thermostat and then dropped my body onto the queen-sized four-poster bed. I stared up at the crocheted lace canopy and listened to the waves lapping the shore. I heard the rush and whirr as the air conditioner kicked on. I tried to conjure up a beach at midnight…

I felt the sand under my toes. A strong summer wind blew off the ocean. The foamy tide lapped my calves. Bells rang, a soothing little echo. A saxophone melody materialized. Sounded like, wait, I knew this one. Something from the forties. “Sentimental Journey”. Who made it famous? Right. Doris Day and the Les Brown band.

I smelled marshmallows. No, I really did. I turned around. Down the shoreline, I detected a flicker. An irresistible flickering. Like a magnet, it propelled me. I blinked my eyes at a campfire. And there he was.

Chapter Four

I
smiled, “Hey you, step into my dream again.”

He grinned back. “Hi, Cinderella. I’ve been waiting for you.”

I sighed and looked him over. He was wearing light-colored trousers, rolled halfway up his calves. Bare feet in the white powdery sand. I concentrated on those feet. They were perfect. Strong tendons, well-pedicured. Not crusty and gross like old What’s-his-name’s feet. Joel-the-Jerk who I inadvertently jilted at the altar so he enjoyed a ménage à trois in the honeymoon hideaway that I had paid the non-refundable deposit on. There had gone a whole two-week pay period of overtime money wasted.

My breathing slowed. I heard my deep exhalations. I sized up dream boy’s ankles and his exposed calves. Well-developed and just the right amount of fur…um, hair. I methodically raised my gaze along his trousers, stopping at the fly. Hmm…he must be right-handed, because he kept it on the left. And my, look how happy it seemed to see me. My body tingled as I imagined making good use of his merry instrument.

My gaze traveled upward. His white shirt was untucked and unbuttoned. Firelight flickered on the silky hair complementing his chest. Just the right amount. It looked soft and tempting. I followed the furry path back down to his trousers, where it disappeared. I was really getting hot. I stepped back from the bonfire.

He ambled over to me, carrying a tree branch with a toasted marshmallow smoldering on the end. I drooled. I was hungry, both for him and the sweet. I reached for the marshmallow. He tugged it off the stick before I could get it. Actually, he placed his fingers on the sticky treat and slowly moved it up and down the limb before freeing the goody. I had to swallow. I opened my mouth in anticipation.

He pressed it to my lips and encircled them twice. I followed it with my tongue. He placed it in my mouth. Our eyes locked while I tasted the sugary hot texture. It was delicious and over with too soon.

My dream man took my left hand and tenderly rubbed his fingers all over mine. I trembled, not used to being treated so gently. He made me feel as though I was the most desirable woman on earth. Or the universe if he was a Martian. “Are you a Martian?”

“
What?”

“
The last dream. You told me you were going to take me to Mars. Is that where you come from?”