Deceived: Lured from the Truth (Secrets) (9 page)

“Tonight?”

“Yes. For the whole evening. And we kissed during the fireworks and it was amazing.”

She giggles. “Sounds like a real hot date.”

“It was.”

“Does Edward work here?” She pauses beneath a streetlamp to adjust her purse, moving it to the other shoulder as if in slow motion.

“His name is really Josiah.” I wonder why I even bother. “No, he doesn’t work here. But he delivers ice cream to Nadine’s. He works at Lost Springs Dairy. They make natural ice cream.”

“Los’ Springs Dairy?” Her forehead creases like she’s trying hard to think. “Isn’t that … that freaky place?”

“Freaky place?”

She vigorously nods her head. “Yeah. Tha’s it. Buncha freaky people with a freaky dairy. Los’ Springs … tha’s what it’s called.”

“Well, I’ve been there,” I tell her as I open the door. “And it’s not the least bit freaky. In fact, it’s really cool.”

Now she shakes her head. “No way. It’s a freaky place. My friend went there and she said never again.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Los’ Springs. Aren’t you lishenin’ to me?”

“I think you’ve had too much to drink.” I aim her toward her bunk and help her lie down. “Sleep it off and hopefully you won’t feel too lousy in the morning.”

“Goo’night.” She closes her eyes.

I reach down and slip off her shoes, then drop them on the floor by her bed. I consider covering her with a blanket, except it’s pretty warm in here and she’s still dressed. “Good night, Steffie. Sleep tight. Don’t let the bedbugs bite.”

I hear her chuckling as I walk away. However, I doubt she’ll feel very amused in the morning.

Monday is nearly as busy as Sunday. And while I try to be positive and upbeat and I’m basically in a good mood and working hard, it seems that my coworkers are determined to treat me like the enemy. Even when I tell Lorna that she’s doing a better job cleaning out the machines at night, she acts like I’ve insulted her. I cannot figure out why they are so hostile toward me. Finally I just decide to do my work and interact with them as little as possible.

My mom stops by during my lunch break, and we get gyros to eat down by the water. It’s finally cooling off some, only hitting the eighties today.

“I need to tell you something,” my mom says in a tone that sounds serious.

“What? Is something wrong?”

“Not exactly.” She sighs and takes a long sip of her soda. “It’s just that we’re probably losing the house.”

“Losing the house?” I stare at her. “Our home? What do you mean?”

“I mean, the bank is foreclosing on us, Rachel. We got behind on house payments when Dad lost his job. I’ve never been able to catch up. And it’s under water.”

“Under water?” I imagine a flood sweeping over the only home I’ve ever known.

“Your dad got a second mortgage on it about eight years ago. It seemed like a good idea at the time, but now we owe more on it than it’s worth.”

“What are we going to do?”

“I found a place to rent,” she says sadly. “It’s kind of like where Nadine lives. You know those condos over on Napa Boulevard? Not too far from the high school?”

“Seriously?” Some of my friends call that area “the ghetto.” That’s where I’m going to live during my senior year?

“They have a fitness center and a pool. Plus it’s closer to my work.”

“We’re going to live there?”

She makes a forced smile. “It won’t be so bad. And it’s just temporary, until I can find something better.”

“When do we move?” I ask meekly.

“Don’t you worry about that. I’ll take care of everything. We’ll be all set up long before school starts. I’ve already put a deposit on it.”

“Oh …” I take a bite, slowly chewing, trying to process this.

“Anyway, I’m so glad you’re in such a great place,” she says cheerfully. “It makes this a whole lot easier.”

“Huh?” I’m unclear on what she means. I do feel like I’m in a great place, at least I did … until now. But I haven’t even told her about Josiah yet. How would she know what kind of a place I’m in? “What?”

“This resort, silly. What a great place. You’re fortunate to have this opportunity, honey.”

“Oh.” I nod, taking a slow sip of my soda.

“I would’ve loved to have done this when I was your age.” She sighs. “I wouldn’t mind doing it now.”

“You want to live here? At the resort?”

She wrinkles her nose. “Don’t worry. I’m not going to move here. I’m just saying it’s a fun place for a summer. You’re lucky.”

I shrug, trying to decide how much to say. Do I tell her I hate working at Nadine’s? That my coworkers are beastly? Do I tell her that I have an Australian boyfriend who’s almost twenty? No … sometimes ignorance truly is bliss. Besides, my mom’s got enough to deal with. Her husband’s left her for a younger woman and now she’s losing our house. She definitely does not need to hear all the details of my life.

“This really is a pretty place.” I look out over the smooth blue surface of the lake. “I am lucky.”

Mom and I finish our lunch, then I walk her back to her car and we hug and say good-bye. But before she goes, I tell her not to feel bad about losing our house. “It’s just a material thing,” I say lightly, recalling what Reverend Jim said on Sunday. “God doesn’t want us to obsess over possessions. He wants us to give everything we have to him — and then to trust him to provide for us.”

She looks slightly surprised. “That’s true, Rachel. I guess I need to keep that in mind. Thanks for the reminder.”

I nod. “I heard it in church yesterday.”

She pats me on the cheek. “Sounds like a good church.”

“It is.” I wave as she gets in the car and drives away. Then I go back to work, bracing myself for more frostiness from my coworkers and wondering if I should mention something to Nadine. Of course, since she’s in the shop, they all act more normal and civil to me. So I simply put in my time, and to my relief Nadine stays later than usual. By the time my shift ends, I almost wonder if my coworkers have turned a corner.

However it’s back to normal on Tuesday. Belinda comes late and acts like it’s no big deal. Alistair comes on time and, as usual, seems to be eating out of Belinda’s hand. I’m pretty sure he has a crush on her, and although I doubt she returns his affections, she has no scruples about utilizing them. But I comfort myself with the fact that since it’s Tuesday and we’re back to a normal schedule, Lorna won’t be here until six, which means only thirty minutes in her unpleasant presence. So I’m caught off guard when Lorna arrives at three.

“Nadine is sick today,” she tells us. “She asked me to come in early.”

“She didn’t call,” I say.

“Are you questioning me?” Lorna glares at me as she ties on her apron.

“No, of course not.” I shake my head. “I was just saying.”

“Isn’t it time for your lunch break?” she asks in an exasperated tone.

Without answering, I untie my apron, trying not to react to her rudeness as she turns to help the next customer. I cannot get out of there quickly enough. As soon as I’m out the door, I’m walking fast. I wish I could just keep going. I hate working at Nadine’s. I hate working with Lorna and Belinda … and Alistair, too.

“Dear God,” I pray as I walk, “help me.” It’s not much of a prayer, but it is heartfelt. I reach in my pocket for my phone now, tempted to call Josiah and complain to him. But he’s busy making deliveries today. He stopped by the ice cream parlor to deliver some fresh cartons. We talked briefly but he seemed distracted. Besides, he was already running late and had to keep moving. I wish today were Wednesday. At least I’d have the midweek service to look forward to.

Today I go to Frank’s Frankfurters and get a bratwurst, smother it in mustard, onions, and relish, then walk down to the lake to eat it. It’s only in the high seventies today, so I’m not the least bit tempted to jump in the lake. But I do walk the trail a ways. I hope it will clear my head and prepare me for the next few hours of working with my disagreeable coworkers.

To my surprise, they all act fairly nice and normal when I return. Everyone seems to be working happily, and Belinda even offers to let me take over the cash register while she uses the restroom.

“One double scoop dish,” I say as I ring up the next customer. “And one kid’s cone too?”

“Plus a regular cone,” he corrects. “That one already made it out the door.”

I tell him the total and he hands me a twenty, but when I open the till, I’m surprised to see there’s only two one-dollar bills, no fives, and one ten. “I’m sorry. We’re out of small bills.” I frown over at Lorna, who’s dipping for some teen boys. Alistair is scrubbing down the food prep counter. I look back at the man. “Do you happen to have a ten?”

He looks in his wallet, then hands me his debit card instead. “Use this.”

“Sorry about that,” I say as I run the card.

“It’s okay.” He smiles as he signs the receipt. “I get perks with that card anyway.”

“How can we be out of small bills?” I ask Belinda when she comes back.

“Lots of people came in with fifties and we’ve even had some hundred dollar bills.” She shrugs. “Just one of those days.”

“Well, someone needs to run to the bank to get some change,” I tell her.

She shrugs again. “Guess so.” But instead of offering to do this, she goes over to the waffle-dish maker and pours in some batter.

“Fine.” I untie my apron and toss it beneath the counter. Then I grab four fifties and stuff them into my shorts pocket. “I’ll do it myself.”

No one even responds. It’s like they’re deaf and dumb … or zombies. Or maybe I’m invisible. I slam the till closed and stomp out of there. Seriously, what is wrong with them?

It takes me about thirty minutes to go to the bank, wait in line, watch as the teller counts out the bills and slips them into a white envelope, then I walk back to Nadine’s. By the time I open the door, I’ve recovered from being mad.

“Hey there,” Lorna says in a surprisingly friendly tone. She’s standing by the door, almost as if she was waiting for me. Before I can respond, she snatches the bank envelope from my hand. “I’ll take that. And not a moment too soon either.” She hurries over to where Belinda and Alistair are huddled by the register. “We already lost a couple of customers while you were gone.” She hands the envelope to Belinda.

“What took you so long?” Belinda demands.

“There was a long line at the bank.” Now I go over, curious as to why they’re all huddled around the register like that. “What’s going on?”

Belinda closes the till and then turns, giving me a puzzled look. “What do you mean?”

Just then a loud group of teenybopper girls comes in, and since none of my ditzy coworkers seems inclined to go take their orders, I grab my apron and a scoop and wonder why I’d even bother to try to figure these three out. The good news is, I have less than two hours left to work.

Finally my shift ends and I slowly walk back to my dorm. I wish I had somewhere more interesting to go, but the truth is, I’m almost too tired to really care. The past few days have been good but exhausting. All I want to do is take a nice, long nap. As I’m drifting to sleep, I remind myself that tomorrow is Wednesday. After my shift ends, Josiah will pick me up to take me to the midweek service … and life will be good again.

[CHAPTER 8]

W
hen I get to work on Wednesday morning, I’m surprised to discover that the lights are already on as I’m unlocking the front door. Did Lorna forget to — I stop in my steps. Someone is already in the ice cream shop.

“Who is it?” I call without going inside. Is this a break-in? In broad daylight? With pounding heart, I’m ready to make a fast run.

“Rachel?”
I hear what sounds like Nadine’s voice calling.

“Nadine?” I cautiously go in. “Is that you?”

“In here,” she calls from the office.

“What are you — ?” I stop myself when I see that both Belinda and Lorna are in there with her. All three of them are looking at me with impossible-to-read expressions. “What’s going on?” I ask.

“That’s what I’d like to know.” Nadine’s voice sounds hoarse, but then I remember she’s been sick.

“Huh?”
I peer at her, trying to figure this out.

“Lorna reported money missing from the till last night.”

“What?” I turn to Lorna, but she gives me a completely blank look.

“When she was closing last night …” Nadine speaks slowly, like it’s difficult. “She was balancing out … and the till was two hundred dollars short.” Nadine narrows her eyes slightly.

“What?”
I hold up my hands, confused. “I still don’t get this.”

“I counted it too,” she tells me. “She’s right. Two hundred dollars is missing.”

“But what does that have to do with me?”

She points to her laptop now. “The girls suggested I download the surveillance video from yesterday. So I did.” Now she clicks her mouse and I see a black-and-white scratchy-looking image appear on her screen. I lean forward, squinting to see, and I realize it’s the interior of the ice cream shop. I can see the end of the ice cream case, the cash register, and part of the yogurt machine. Belinda is at the register and it looks like business as usual. She’s making change, smiling. The customer leaves, and then Belinda moves away from the register area and out of the camera’s view.