Authors: Pat G'Orge-Walker

Somewhat Saved (16 page)

BOOK: Somewhat Saved

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Soon after, Areal had no choice but to move away. She left immediately for New York, because she knew no one there. She eventually settled in the Bronx and Sasha joined her.

To make sure that no paths would lead back to them, after Sasha got Areal settled in their Bronx apartment, she suggested that the birth not take place anywhere near there.

Again, the sisters left for a place unfamiliar to them. They'd made up their minds to travel to Syracuse, New York. It was a big city and they could get lost in it. But Areal's baby had other plans. They'd made it only as far as Amsterdam, New York. Two weeks later, Areal returned to the Bronx without a swollen belly, or a crying baby.

Sasha might've orchestrated the adoption but it had also been Areal's choice, when she'd given birth, not to see her newborn or know who adopted the baby. At first, she hadn't known whether she'd given birth to a boy or a girl. Not seeing the baby meant she'd closed the door to any possible relationship with the child. And it also slammed the door to any further meaningful relationship with Sasha.

Areal found it much easier to blame Sasha for bullying her into giving up the baby. But it wasn't that easy when it came to Jasper. She'd never told him that she didn't have an abortion. She was convinced that there'd be no relationship at all with him, if she did tell the truth, so she'd taken his money without remorse.

However, just like a lot of women in her situation, common sense somehow gave way to a familiar disrespect for herself and a sexual need when a few months later, they reconnected. As soon as he'd contacted her under the guise of making sure she was all right, she was trapped.

“I thought you didn't want to have anything to do with me,” she'd reminded him.

“I need you.” Jasper's tone was confident and with good reason.

Three wordsâthat was all it took to reignite their illicit affair. Areal had convinced Sasha that everything was fine and that Sasha was no longer needed.

Though Sasha initially didn't believe Areal had gotten over the baby's adoption so soon, she caved in. Sasha had returned to South Carolina thinking that she'd solved all of their problems. Of course, as fate would have it, Areal didn't have much time to mourn the baby she'd had and never seen. She became pregnant again, and by Jasper.

Sasha refused to return to New York a second time. The second pregnancy was an insult and she'd not help her sister again. She also didn't know at that time that Jasper was once more the father. Sasha reasoned that her older sister was just stupid and a slut.

Of course, Jasper hadn't changed even if Areal had. He'd stopped visiting her in New York for good once he saw her belly start to swell.

Areal, alone, gave birth to a second daughter and named her Ima. Areal never listed the father's name on the birth certificate because that would mean revealing to the world that she and Jasper had rekindled their affair and how stupid she truly was.

Areal's relationship with her daughter, Ima, went on to become problematic, but Areal was never sorry she hadn't aborted the second baby. She'd kept Ima in name only and more out of condemnation than love. It wasn't long before Areal had returned to her old nomadic ways, and by the time Ima was six, Areal had deposited her with two other cousins, and a perverted uncle. Areal's other brother and sisters wanted nothing to do with Areal.

When Sasha finally decided to forgive Areal, she repaid Sasha's kindness by depositing Ima on Sasha's doorstep.

Areal confessed to Sasha she'd finally changed her ways when one of the irate wives of one of her frivolous affairs had pointed a pistol at Areal and fired. That's when Areal decided to change courses. From that point on she only dated widowers.

The two sisters, both tired of rehashing their pasts, dozed off where they sat. They woke about the same time at the sound of heavy footsteps and a hard knock at the door. It'd been years since they'd heard those sounds, but they knew without question that it was Jasper.

When Chandler arrived at Bea's hotel room, he wasn't prepared for an inquisition. He was still a bit off kilter from dodging Alicia's shameless elevator flirting. So, if he'd known she would take it so bad, he'd never have told Bea that he saw Sasha leave the hotel with a suitcase.

“Sasha's a coward!” Bea hissed. “I'm sitting here with my pinky toe all busted and she leaves me. I would've stayed for her.”

“Don't get so upset. I took the liberty of calling down to the desk and apparently she didn't check out of her room. She's probably just out on the town.” Chandler thought his revelation had diffused the situation. He thought wrong.

“She went out on the town?” She looked at Zipporah for sympathy and dabbed at an imaginary tear. “I'm sitting here with a ruptured pinky toe and Sasha goes out on the town.”

“Your toe was stepped on. It wasn't ruptured.” Again, Chandler had opened his big mouth and inserted his foot. One look at Bea's face, which had turned a dark purple, told him to change paths.

Meanwhile, Zipporah's head swung back and forth between Bea and Chandler, as she tried to keep up with what appeared to be a vast difference of opinion or a conversation straight off the cartoon network.

“But, you don't really like her,” Chandler reminded Bea. He managed a nervous laugh before continuing. “I'm surprised that the two of you have tolerated each other all these years.”

“I thought they served on the same Mothers Board back at their home church.” The words had left Zipporah's mouth before she could stop them. She looked quickly to Chandler for help.

“That little skinny Smurf doesn't take up much room on a pew or a chair, so I do tolerate her.” Bea laughed at her observation. She didn't want to talk about Sasha. She wanted to know more about Zipporah.

Bea didn't get a chance to continue her inquisition. Chandler interrupted with his news. He explained to Zipporah that an opportunity for her to sing was dropped in his lap. While Bea sat back and tried to interject more complaints, Chandler watched a wide smile creep across Zipporah's face at the news.

“You'll need to be ready by nine o'clock tonight,” he explained. “You'll have to rush to have a costume fitting.”

“Things are moving so fast,” Zipporah gushed. “I'll have to thank your friend.”

“So who's gonna take care of me if you two go running off?” Bea had started to complain again, but one look at Zipporah's face stopped her. “Don't worry. I'll be just fine. You go and sing.”

Bea heard the unselfish words but had a problem believing that she was the one who uttered them. She'd never had children and never wanted any. She narrowed her eyes and looked at Zipporah and Chandler as they stood by the doorway. Her sudden feeling of curiosity was beginning to change to caring. Bea couldn't figure out why she felt she needed to take care of Zipporah. She also knew she could barely take care of her own needs as her bladder reminded her.

A short time later, Chandler was on his way taking Zipporah to Alicia's office for an official introduction. Zipporah was very chatty almost to the point of girlish giggling. Chandler couldn't take his eyes off her. The more excited she became the more he did, too. As soon as the elevator stopped and they stepped off, Zipporah thought her heart would stop, too.

“This can't be happening,” she murmured. Her shoulders drooped and her smile fled, dragging the color in her face along with it.

“What's wrong?” Chandler asked, feeling as if he were watching a human chameleon in action. “Are you nervous? You shouldn't be.” He tried to take her hand but she snatched it away.

Zipporah didn't have time to explain the earlier dismissal and humiliation she'd received in this same office. She'd barely gotten her heart under control when Alicia came through the office door. She slowed her walk to one that almost resembled an amateurish and comical striptease.

Even if Chandler didn't notice, which was hard to believe, none of the feminine antics displayed were lost on Zipporah. There was no doubt in Zipporah's mind. She immediately recognized Miss Cowing as the same woman who hadn't even let her sing at a recent audition after taking one look at her. She still had the same pasty complexion and that same uppity attitude. If Zipporah had any doubts, they were removed as soon as the woman walked past her without a glance and put her arm through Chandler's.

“You work fast,” Alicia cooed. “But quick is goodâ sometimes.” She lowered her eyes in appreciation of his masculinity before continuing, “And then, sometimes not.”

Zipporah watched intensely. The woman had acted, again, as though she didn't exist.

Chandler gently guided his arm out of Miss Cowing's unwarranted and possessive grip. “Aliciaâ” he let his warm smile disarm her while he turned on the charmâ“this is the answer to your dilemma.”

“Who would that be?” She'd seen the young beauty but her flirtatious style required that she let the woman know who was in charge.

It only took a second for Zipporah to realize that the woman hadn't recognized her from before. With Chandler obviously the man-toy the woman wanted, Zipporah instantly relaxed. She'd recognized the game and decided she'd play along. It was also clear that there was nothing more than a business interest on Chandler's part. She'd seen the way he maneuvered out of Miss Cowing's grasp and kept to their plan.

As much as Miss Cowing would've loved to dismiss Zipporah, she couldn't. Zipporah nailed the vocals, singing a cappella effortlessly. Alicia watched her and somehow, her instinct told her that Zipporah's performance was just as much for Chandler as it was for her. As for the costumes, they'd fitted Zipporah as if they were tailor-made. Even she couldn't fit into a size 4 and look that good.

After the audition, Chandler walked Zipporah out. He showered her with praises and promises of nothing but good things happening for her.

Zipporah didn't know if she were walking or gliding, she was so high on life at that moment. But Zipporah's happiness was only on loan. Chandler suddenly offered to drive her home instead of letting her wait on a bus. He'd said he was making the offer so she could have a chance to get everything together. Zipporah panicked. There was no way she'd let him find out she lived in a homeless shelter. She didn't know how to get out of taking his offer when it made so much sense.

Chandler had just taken his keys out and was about ready for them to go to the underground garage when his cellular phone rang. He turned to Zipporah. “Just let me take this call. It won't be long.”

Zipporah looked flushed but she was grateful his phone had rung. Her mind raced. She just couldn't let him discover she lived in a homeless shelter. All she needed was a few weeks of making money and then she could afford a place she'd be proud to call home and he could visit if he still wanted. Until then she needed an excuse to keep him away and not jeopardize her chance to sing at the Luxor.

“I'm sorry, Zipporah,” Chandler apologized. “I'm afraid we're going to have to have a change of plans.”

“Why?” She could feel her heart racing, fearing she was about to lose this precious opportunity.

Chandler saw the immediate change and concern. He prefaced his reply with a smile. “They're going to need you to come in earlier to go over the music. You're good but they can't be too careful. It's normal.”

The color returned to her face. “I'd better get home and prepare.” She had an idea. “I'll take a cab home.”

“I've something else in mind.” Chandler flipped open his cell phone as he spoke. The excitement built as he dialed a number. He spoke briefly, turning his shoulder slightly as though the conversation were private. “It's a done deal,” he said.

“What is?”

“I've gotten you a room right here at the Luxor. You can relax and do whatever you need and still be ready for tonight.”

Chandler read the question on Zipporah's face and answered, “It's paid for.”

“Really . . . ?”

“All you need is some type of formal I.D. It's in your name. I didn't want to be too presumptuous.”

“I believe I have my driver's license with me.” She wasn't certain. She hadn't driven since arriving in Las Vegas and hoped it wasn't back at the shelter locked away, with her other important papers, in their office. She laughed nervously and reached inside her bag for her wallet and an excuse she'd need for not returning to the shelter by curfew.

Chandler had laughed as she dug frantically into her pocketbook. She liked that.

“There is one thing you can give me,” Chandler said as his laughter ebbed but didn't entirely stop.

“And what would that be?” They were in a dark parking garage and suddenly she felt a bit leery. She just couldn't catch a complete break. She had no intention of giving him what she was sure he was about to ask for.

Before Zipporah's imagination could completely run away, Chandler saw the sudden change in her demeanor and spoke up. “I just wondered if you had a tissue in your bag?”

Zipporah's body relaxed, confirming that she'd thought the worst of him. But again, he'd put her at ease with his laughter.

“It just so happens that I do.” She opened another compartment in her bag, and the first thing she noticed was that her wallet was gone.

“My wallet,” she said quickly. “It's not here.”

Zipporah turned the bag upside down. An almost empty packet of tissues was there, other unimportant papers, but her wallet was missing.

Being laid up didn't mean drama couldn't find Bea. She certainly hadn't wasted time while she lay around her hotel room healing.

Bea had found Zipporah's wallet. It had fallen between the cushions on the sofa. Bea was convinced that the only way to contact Zipporah to let her know that she'd left the wallet was to go through it, meticulously. And if there was something she'd find that provided more information about Zipporah, well so be it. It wasn't like she'd stolen the wallet.

Bea immediately dismissed the idea that she could've contacted Chandler and told him about the wallet, especially since he and Zipporah had left together only a short time before.

Bea was totally shocked to discover the telephone number in the wallet was for a homeless shelter. She'd called the number three times. The second time, she'd disguised her voice. The third time, she'd asked for Zipporah Moses. The woman answering seemed to be annoyed at the mere mention of Zipporah's name.

“Zipporah Moses is not in her room.” The woman had almost spat out the information. “Who's calling?”

Bea was taken totally by surprise. “I'm her aunt. . . .” Bea said without giving it a second thought.

“Really,” the woman had replied. “Are you local?”

“I'm right here in Las Vegas,” Bea said. Her story seemed to take on a life of its own. In a matter of seconds, she'd managed to convince the woman to take her number and to have Zipporah call her. She could've told the woman that she'd found Zipporah's wallet but she didn't like the woman's tone.

Chandler offered to put the hotel room in his name to make it easier for Zipporah until she could find her wallet. Between the two, they'd retraced her steps and couldn't figure out where she'd left it. He also offered to advance her money or whatever she needed. He wanted her to be at her best for that night's performance.

“We'll find it,” Chandler dished out the false hope, with a side order of a smile. He'd do whatever he could to keep Zipporah's mind on the task at hand. He added, “I'll go back inside and check with Lost and Found.”

Zipporah somehow knew that he would handle things, so she asked him to wait while she used the bathroom in the lobby to pull herself together.

No sooner had Zipporah walked away than Chandler's cell phone rang, again.

BOOK: Somewhat Saved

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