A Whisper in Time (8 page)

“No.”

I crammed fries in my mouth just to have something to do.

Benita raised her eyebrows at Gabrielle. “Alexis is the girl who dumped Mark at prom.”

I nearly snorted ketchup into my sinuses. Why make it sound like Alexis was the story here? She wasn’t. It hadn’t taken me long to get over her at all. We’d spent our entire relationship in one extended battle over how much I neglected her for my training schedule. On the rare occasions I’d thought about her since, it was more along the lines of
what the hell was I thinking
.

No, my problem wasn’t how she dumped me. It was who she was with now. Carlton May had been my best friend until the day he started dating my ex. Now, we were…nothing. It was weird.

“Hi,” Alexis said. Carlton halted behind her. His gaze met mine briefly before slipping to Gabrielle.

None of us responded. I snagged another fry.

Alexis tried again. “What’s going on?”

Benita eyed her coolly. “Physics study group. Projectile motion.”

Alexis stared hard at me. “I haven’t spoken to you since school started, Mark. Do you ever see the colonial girl?”

I dropped my head to my chest. I should’ve known she’d try to stir things up. “Her name is Susanna,” I bit out, “and I see her every day.”

A ripple went through my study group, which Alexis must’ve felt, because she got even more persistent. “Where does she go to school?”

“Nowhere.”

“She’s already graduated?”

“Susanna had to drop out.” My expression dared Alexis to keep going.

“What’s she doing, then?”

I stared at her with cold fury. “I think she planned to bake bread today.”

“That’s an interesting hobby.”

“She’s the most interesting girl I know.”

Alexis flushed. “Nice.” She spun around and stalked to the exit. Carlton trailed after her.

“Who is Susanna?” Benita the Brave asked.

“My girlfriend.”

There was a surprised silence.

“I can’t believe that Alexis McChord’s ex is dating again and nobody knew it.” Benita slumped back in her bench. “Is there some reason you’ve never mentioned your girlfriend? Not even Friday night?”

I shrugged. I’d been to one football game and this study group with the three of them. I didn’t share private stuff that easily.

“Okay, then,” Benita continued. “How about explaining why Alexis calls her a colonial girl?”

“Because Alexis can’t resist making bitchy comments.”

“No argument here, but it seems like a fairly specific statement.”

I wasn’t going to let Alexis dictate how or when I explained Susanna to anybody, and now was not the time. So as rude as this might seem, I had to get out of here. “See you guys.” I slung my backpack over my shoulder and gestured at Gabrielle to let me out. There would be no studying for me this afternoon. “Thanks for including me.”

“Wait a minute, Mark.” Gabrielle’s brow was scrunched up. “I’d like to meet her. Why don’t you bring her to the next game?”

“That’s not likely to happen in this century,” I muttered as I took off.

When I reached my truck, I heard the slap of running feet behind me. Gabrielle appeared beside my truck. Her bodyguard hovered nearby.

“You know how to make an exit,” she said.

“Okay.” I wrenched open the door to my truck and flung my backpack on the passenger side.

“So, are we your friends?”

“Yeah. Sure.”

“Then don’t we deserve a better answer than that?”

If this conversation was about to turn into one of those stupid-ass, touchy-feely things, I would dent my front quarter panel. “Maybe, but I don’t have a better answer to give.”

Her chin jutted out. “When you talked about long-distance relationships sucking, were you talking about Susanna?”

“Yes.”

“But you see her every day?”

I hesitated. “She moved here in July.”

“Where does she live now?”

“Close by.” It was time to stop answering, and yet I couldn’t seem to quit.

“Why haven’t I heard about her before?”

“Why haven’t I heard about Korry?”

“That’s different. I have to protect him.”

“It’s not different. I’m protecting Susanna too.”

Gabrielle’s face settled into a smooth oval—as if she were posing for one of those “Madonna and Child” paintings at the museum. Beautiful and sad. “Are you ashamed of us, Mark?”

“No.” I shook my head. “No, and I’m not ashamed of her either.”

Damn. Why had I answered a question that she hadn’t asked? I hopped onto the driver’s seat of the truck, buckled up, and threw the truck into reverse.

Gabrielle watched me drive away, straight and still.

I was sorry that I’d acted like such a dick back there, but the alternative would’ve been worse. I couldn’t describe Susanna in words that captured who she really was. She had this charm—this presence—that had to be experienced to be understood.

I would have to think of a way to introduce them, but in a time and place good for her. And once my friends had met Susanna, explanations wouldn’t be necessary.

C
HAPTER
E
LEVEN

A L
EVEL
OF
D
EBT

Mrs. Lewis located a group of people online who were skilled at finding employment for immigrants. I called them and discovered that they were willing to assist me. I had an appointment at New World Family Services scheduled for Monday at two PM.

I could barely tolerate the slow passage of this day, but at last we arrived at the facility in the back of a church—a very large church, as if multiple homes had been combined around a central, beautifully landscaped courtyard.

A smiling young man greeted us as we walked in the door. “Miriam is waiting for you, Miss Marsh.”

I nodded and headed in the direction he indicated.

“Susanna, do you want me to go in there with you?”

“No, thank you, Mrs. Lewis.” I felt bold and confident about how the interview would progress. New World Family Services was accustomed to those who knew nothing about this America. I would fare well here.

“Are you sure?”

“Yes.”

“I think it would be best if I came with you.”

I was her guest. I would not refuse her again. “Certainly.”

We entered a smallish room that had the feel of a library, with numerous bookshelves lining two of the walls. The woman who awaited us grinned tiredly when she looked up. She was older in person than her youthful voice had conveyed over the phone. After welcoming us, she gestured to a large volume of colorful papers and said, “You mentioned in our call that you’re interested in employment opportunities.”

I smiled. “Indeed. I am eager to find work.”

She paused, as if expecting more and then glanced at Mark’s mother.

“It may be a while before Susanna has an ID or a Social,” Mrs. Lewis said.

The lady jotted down a note. “How much education do you have, Susanna?”

Mrs. Lewis answered before I could open my mouth. “She had to drop out of school at an early age, so she has no diploma. She’s interested in a GED, but it’s a long way off.”

“You’re fluent in English, Susanna. That’s a good start.” Miriam slid a brochure across the table to me. “Here’s some info on how North Carolina handles the GED. If you want to get into Wake County’s GED prep program, you’ll need to take the placement exam first.” At my nod of gratitude, she smiled and then flipped through the big black book that lay before her. It had three large metal rings along its spine and many sheets of paper. “As far as jobs are concerned, there are only a few possibilities, since we’re limited in what you can do.”

Truly? Perhaps she didn’t realize how strong and capable I was. “Why are we limited?”

Mrs. Lewis patted me on the arm. “Most employers require a Social Security card.”

I stared at her in dismayed surprise, willing my face to remain calm. It might be months before I had one of those cards. How had I not known this? Had the Lewises mentioned it and I’d been too perplexed to understand? “What are we limited to?”

“Primarily people who pay cash,” Miriam said as she ran her finger down the sheet. “What do you think about babysitting? It’s appropriate for someone your age.”

I frowned, not confident about the term. “Sitting with babies?”

“Yes, although you could take care of children of all ages, from infants until age ten.”

It wouldn’t be my preference, but I was open to trying anything. “I have experience with minding children.”

“Good. Do you know first aid and CPR?”

It seemed that I would recognize the terms if I knew how to do them. “I am not familiar with either.”

She sighed. “That’s not always a requirement. Can you provide your own transportation?”

“I can walk.”

“That restricts your availability a lot—”

Mrs. Lewis interrupted. “We’ll be happy to drive her, but babysitting isn’t the answer. Susanna isn’t used to the way kids are around here.”

I swallowed words of denial. Mrs. Lewis was undoubtedly correct.

“Okay,” Miriam said. “Delivering newspapers?”

Mrs. Lewis shook her head. “Susanna can’t drive.”

Miriam’s smile became strained. “Food service?”

“The preparation of food?” I asked. “I can cook.”

“You would start out washing dishes, cleaning tables, or sweeping floors.”

I nodded. I could easily handle a job with such tasks.

“No,” Mrs. Lewis said, “She’s only just recovered her health after a serious infection. We shouldn’t let her do anything that might expose her to contagious diseases until she’s finished a round of vaccinations.”

Miriam sucked in a deep breath. “Susanna, you’re lucky to have a family so considerate of your welfare.”

It might seem fortunate in her mind. In mine, it felt as if I were falling deeply into a level of debt that I could never repay. It took balance from my relationship with Mark’s parents—and Mark.

Miriam slid heavy notepaper across the table. It had brightly colored lines and circles scattered about in irregular patterns. “This is a map of the bus system. If you learned to use it, you could gain a real measure of independence, and fare cards are quite cost-effective.”

“None of the routes come anywhere near our house,” Mrs. Lewis said.

I was aware that the pair of them spoke English, and that they were discussing vehicles, streets, places, and money. But it held no meaning for me. I didn’t know what they discussed, nor why it had importance. The limited possibilities had been broached, only to have Mark’s mother decline them. I had come filled with hope for finding a job, and I would leave stripped of even that.

Perhaps it would be best to think of something else. Something pleasant. Phoebe’s journals. Fishing at the lake.

“Susanna?”

I looked up from the painted woodgrain of the tabletop to find Mark’s mother eying me suspiciously. “Yes, ma’am?”

“Did you hear what Miriam said?”

“Pardon me. No.” I refocused on the other woman’s face. “Could you repeat?”

“We have an attorney who is willing to consult with you for a nominal charge. It might help you find a way to get your identity established.”

“Why would he do that?”

“The attorney is female, and she is happy to provide this service through us.”

I didn’t know how much “nominal” was, but if it were more than zero, I didn’t have it. Yet it seemed unwise to refuse completely. “I shall ponder this offer.”

The other two women exchanged glances. Miriam cocked her head like a curious bird. “Certainly. It’s your case. We can involve the lawyer later if you like.”

They stood. I did too, greatly relieved that this interview had reached its end.

C
HAPTER
T
WELVE

T
ALKING
A
ROUND
THE
T
RUTH

The sky had cleared like magic while I was at the grill. It had been dark and threatening an hour ago. Now there were blue skies, thin clouds, and a milder temperature.

When I got home, both of my parents’ cars were in the garage. I entered the house and hesitated in the doorway to the kitchen. Even though I couldn’t see them, I could hear their voices clearly through a window overlooking the deck.

I probably would’ve continued onto my destination—the refrigerator—except one word stopped me.

“…
Susanna
…”

I froze, eavesdropping without shame. Okay, without
much
shame.

My father was speaking. “We told her she was welcome to stay here as long as she needed.”

“She is,” Mom said, “but I didn’t expect it would be indefinite.”

“It’s barely been a month.”

“Is there an end in sight?”

Ice tinkled in a glass. A deck chair squeaked.

“You’re over-thinking this, Sherri. Susanna won’t be here forever, and she’s trying hard to be unobtrusive.”

“I know.” Mom sounded tired. “It’s not her. She’s a sweet girl, and I feel sorry about what a horrible life she’s had, but I want my house back. It’s never just us anymore.”

“Your parents will take her any time you ask.”

“I know.” A noisy sigh. “Having her constantly underfoot isn’t the only thing that bothers me. I’m worried about my son.”

I leaned closer as if that would help me hear better, which was stupid since I could hear perfectly fine already.

“What about
our
son?”

“He’s too serious about her.”

Dad heaved a loud sigh. “Sherri, please.”

“This is his senior year. He needs to enjoy everything it has to offer.”

“He’s having fun.”

“I’m not sure that he is. He’s too focused on her, and she’s too traumatized to function. You have to admit—he sticks around the house way more than he used to.”

I’d heard enough. I spun around to go out there and tackle them.

Susanna stood on the bottom step of the back stairs.

Damn. “How much of that did you hear?”

“I left the apartment when you came inside.”

I crossed to her, but when I reached to pull her into my arms, she held up a hand to stop me.

“There is no need to comfort me, Mark. I admire honesty.”

The back door opened, and my father stepped into the laundry room. He halted, his gaze widening on Susanna. My mom bumped into him and muttered a swear word.