Prologue #2
Today was another long day; the Weston mansion had been swarming with guests from sunup to sundown.
I was thankful for Karlos bringing in the other two housekeepers to help me with the cleanup from the bridal shower.
The trash itself was nothing like I had ever seen it.
Hundreds of people came to celebrate the upcoming union.
Between half-eaten plates, drinks, fallen meatballs, and macaroni noodles in the grass, the cleanup was a nightmare.
The guests had finally gone home, and the three of us were cleaning while Remy and her sister Taylor sat at one of the tables and talked.
They laughed loudly ever so often and gave an occasional high five to each other.
Remy had called me over earlier in the day to introduce us.
Her sister was the younger version of her, in every way, and she was just as sweet.
Then the sliding door opened, and out walked Karlos, holding flowers and wearing a crooked smile. He walked through the backyard to the girls who were enjoying themselves, shook hands with Taylor, and handed her the bouquet of flowers.
He was going the extra mile and laying it on thick, trying to convince Taylor that he was a good guy.
I watched as he walked over to Remy and pulled her into an embrace that she looked like she’d rather evaporate than fall into.
But she did, and then he grabbed her chin and kissed her like they were starring in the next adult film.
I closed my eyes for a second, cringing before I turned away.
But it was like a train wreck, I couldn’t stop watching.
When I turned back, he had her tucked at his side with his arm around her waist. She had a pageant smile on her face as she stood there, painting the perfect picture of what never was.
I put my headphones on and just kept filling bag after bag. I worked well into the night, even when the other girls had gone. I was tired and thirsty. But I knew that if Mr. Weston woke up and the house wasn’t back in its original condition, he was going to blow a gasket.
I loaded the last trash bag and pushed the bag bin to the curb.
I had worked so long that my phone died, and my only music was the crickets in the distance.
I sighed once I had finally finished, and I walked through the backyard and around to the sliding glass door.
Inside, I caught a piece of another conversation between Remy and Karlos.
Since I overheard the last conversation a few weeks ago, this has become my newest form of entertainment.
Watching her curve him repeatedly while he chased behind her and begged.
“You not coming to bed with me tonight?” He asked lowly.
“No, I’m not ready,” she mumbled.
“How much longer do you expect me to wait, Remy? A nigga got needs.” He shot back.
“Until we’re married. We have less than thirty days.” She answered. Her tone was different than all the other times that I had heard her. It sounded sultry, almost seductive in a way that made me look in their direction, and what I saw wasn’t on my bingo board.
He was sitting at the barstool, and she was standing in front of him. Her arms were around his neck as he rubbed her butt with one hand and held a cup of whiskey in the other.
“Just come to the room, I want to lay with you.” He begged. His tone caused my lunch to rise to my throat; the only time he remotely acted this way was with her. His obsession with her ran deep.
“Okay.” I heard her say softly, and I almost lost my footing.
I don’t know if she was drunk and horny, or if she was just in the wedding spirit, but this was unlike anything that I had witnessed since she’s been in this house.
If she went into that room, she was making a deal with the devil.
But it wasn’t my business. I just shook my head and went to shower and lay it down for the night, hoping he didn’t taint the only ally I had in the house.
After I soaked in the tub, I got dressed and went in search of something to drink.
I walked through the house in my pajamas; it was cold and dark.
But I was thankful for the silence. As I neared the end of the hallway, I saw a dim light coming from the kitchen, and I was praying that it was Remy there and not Mr. Weston because I knew he was going to find some task for me to do, and I just wasn’t in the mood to put up with his bitchy attitude.
When I rounded the corner, I saw Remy standing there, still in full glam, eating a cup of yogurt.
“You’re up late,” She giggled.
“Yeah, I wanted a bottle of water. I was out in the sun so long I feel dehydrated.” I said, my scratchy voice confirming my statement.
She turned, got a bottle of water, and tossed it to me. I sat on the bar stool and opened it quickly.
“Why are you still here?” She asked me bluntly, cutting the silence like it bothered her not to know. It was unexpected, and as long as I had been here, she had never asked. Just like I hadn’t asked her.
I sighed then laughed. “I could ask you the same,” I said as we both let out a quick laugh.
Then it turned serious when she stopped. Letting me know she actually wanted an answer.
“What’s your story?” She doubled down again.
I battled with telling her. I didn’t want the judgment that people normally gave me once they found out about my past. But she had been such a support that I felt like I could open up to her.
“I just got out of prison. I’ve been there since I was eighteen.
I wanted to be grown and be with a man who was no good for me.
He was a dropout and living a fast life, selling drugs and robbing people.
My parents were very religious. We were in church five nights a week.
It was a life I knew nothing about, but I was drawn to it.
” I laughed at how stupid it sounded to say out loud, but it was the truth. Even if I didn’t want to admit it.
“I moved out of a home full of love and structure to live with him. Then he called me one day and asked me if I could come switch cars with him. He said that he thought he was being tailed by the police and wanted to throw them off. So, I agreed. I thought I’d just get pulled over, they’d see it was me, run my license, and let me go.
What he didn’t mention was that he left all the drugs in the car when we switched.
I had no clue I was riding around with bricks.
I got sentenced to six years in federal prison. ”
I let out a humorless chuckle, but I could see the sadness in Remy’s eyes as I talked about it. I had already gotten the worst of it out of the way, so I continued spilling my guts.
“Every day of that bid, I thought about how the man I loved set me up and how life just moved on without me. He got a girlfriend, had a baby, and is living in a nice condo in Shreveport. But me? My parents cut ties with me, and for six years, I didn’t exist to anybody except inmates and COs.
One of the officers is Karlos’s cousin, and she asked him to let me come work for him when I got out.
I’ve been here since. I want to save up to move and restart my life and give myself a real chance at living.
It’s been tough, but the pay is great, and by me being a felon, it’s not like I have many options, so here we are. ”
I shrugged after I vented. It felt like a weight had been lifted from my shoulder.
She gave me a look that I couldn’t read.
I didn’t know what to make of it. She breathed the deepest breath, like it came from her gut.
Then she said, “We have all been young and na?ve, Alivia. Sometimes a breakthrough comes sooner than you think, when you least expect it. When you get a chance to start over, you take full advantage of it. Because sometimes you don’t get a third. Okay?”
I was confused by what that meant. It seemed like she was being positive but warning me all at the same time. There was an awkward silence between us. Like words left unspoken.
“…Okay.” I finally answered, then I turned to go back to my room.
It was the first time we had talked that I was lost and unsure of what the conversation was supposed to mean.
I lay in bed, trying to make sense of the riddle.
But I didn’t have long to wonder. Because no sooner than my head hit the pillow than I was out like a light.
I don’t know how long I was out, but I was awoken to what sounded like an explosion.
I clutched my chest, heart racing and breathing ragged.
I calmed myself to listen, and I heard footsteps, shouting, and what sounded like another explosion.
I got into the closet and hid. I don’t know what was going on, but I knew that I didn’t want to be sitting around twirling my thumbs if they came searching the house.
I heard Remy screaming, gunfire, and men barking orders.
But I lay there until there was silence.
My heart dropped once I realized that I no longer heard Remy.
When I heard sirens in the distance, I rushed through the house toward the front door.
When I reached the sitting area, I ran into right into her.
She was on the couch with her hands behind her back, zip-tied.
But she was calm, almost as if she were sitting on a city bench waiting for the bus to come.
She had blood spatter on the side of her face and all over the side of her pink pajamas.
“Oh my gosh, Remy, are you okay? Let me get you out of there! Where’s Mr. Weston?” I rushed toward the kitchen to grab a knife.
“Don’t!” She said, stopping me in my tracks. “Do me a favor, hun, go back to your room, and into a hiding space, the police will be there to get you. This is a crime scene, don’t touch anything.”