Bliss (33 page)

"Poor Michael," Tima said, shaking her head.

"Is he stupid or something?"

Ebony threw her head back and laughed. "Leave my
cousin alone. He's still at the age when he thinks that all
grown-ups tell the truth."

"Hopefully after this he realizes that is just not so."

"You talking about what happened to little Michael?"
Hunter leaned over Sinclair, looking sweaty but still energetic
in the tank top that clung to her torso. "Ease up, Sin. Let me
sit behind you."

"You're all sweaty and wet."

Hunter abruptly drew off her tank top and used it to dry her neck, stomach and arms before tossing it behind the
chair. "Better?"

"Much."

Wearing a black sports bra, Hunter slid into the lawn chair
behind Sinclair. She leaned back into her lover with an inaudible sigh, ignoring the pairs of curious eyes on them.

"Yes, Bailey's boy," Eunice said, smiling at her niece.
"Remember the fiasco with the bank?"

"Yes, man," Hunter replied. "I went down there to raise
hell, but of course nobody knows who was on duty then or
what happened to the two hundred dollars."

"Thieving crooks."

Cliff lifted his glass to Tima's comment. "Amen."

"The country is poor, man." Ebony said. "What else are
poor people supposed to do?"

"Not steal from their countryman, for one thing,"
Winsome muttered.

"Don't be so damn idealistic. People just trying to put
food on the table."

"If somebody works in a bank, chances are they don't
have to worry about the children in the house dying of starvation." Tima raised a well-plucked eyebrow in Ebony's direction. "What that woman in the bank did was wrong. That
wasn't any sort of Robin Hood gesture. Bailey and those kids
need the money a hell of a lot more than they do."

"Why don't you go down there and give it to them then?"

"Uh-oh," Hunter whispered at her back. "This is about to
get ugly."

Eunice finished her glass of rum punch and held it out for
a refill. "Calm down, Ebony. Let's not make this personal."

The long-haired woman was about to say something else,
but Hunter kicked her bare foot and slid her a warning
glance.

"Well at least somebody didn't kill Michael for that little
bit of money," Tima said with a delicate shudder.

"Not that they wouldn't have done it if they knew what he
was carrying down the street."

"Well, the neighborhood kids know that he has people
abroad, so that wouldn't have been such a big leap." Eunice
sipped her rum punch. "A lot of folks around the island get
killed every day over money or some other stupid thing. If it
wasn't for security in all those big houses on the hill, a lot of
those white people would be dead in their two-car driveways."

"What about Jamaicans who leave for years then come
back to settle on the island? Is their situation the same as
those so-called expatriates?" Cliff asked.

"You mean people like me?" Hunter asked with a sardonic twist to her mouth.

"Not exactly like," Felix shook his head. "I mean just the
other day, a woman from Portmore, who was in England for
some twenty years, came back to settle in the house she was
born in. Some local boys broke into the house, broke her
neck, and took all her money plus all the nice things she
brought back from foreign lands for her family."

Hunter shifted against Sinclair's back. "I remember that story
from The Gleaner. The two girls she had here said that she
had a lot of ideas about turning the country around, that she
wanted to give something back to the place where she was
born."

Sinclair absently stroked the condensation on her glass. So
even straight people had to worry about violence on the island. Like most visitors, Sinclair had initially imagined Jamaica
as a place of gently swaying hammocks and turquoise seawater
overflowing with fish. Peaceful. Even though they knew the
realities of living on the island, Nikki and her father managed
to be happy here. And she knew that Lydia wouldn't leave even
if someone gave her approved immigration papers tonight.

"Does that make you worry about your safety?" Sinclair
asked Hunter. "Your accent isn't strictly Jamaican anymore. Someone on the street might hear you talk and think that you
have a lot of money."

"That's the chance I take. I'm not going to up and leave
here for what some people think I have. Everybody around
here knows that I don't have much."

"Still, it's a lot more than most Jamaicans have. A Jeep in
the garage, a fancy computer, a nice house with a yard you
don't have to farm to make your living." Ebony nodded.
"That's a lot."

"I worked hard for what I have. I'm not going to let some
irrational fear of my own people make me hide or even leave
this island."

"I'm not saying be fearful. Just be cautious." Eunice forcefully tapped her glass.

"Living here, I haven't been any less cautious than when I
was in the middle of London or even Miami. You know that,
Ebony." Hunter reached down to lightly touch her cousin's
hand. "Besides, unlike you, I work for money. I don't just
stand around and wait for people to hand me their cash."

At Sinclair's questioning look, Hunter shook her head.
"My cousin is a con woman. Runs a game like no other on
the island."

"And that's bloody hard work, thank you very much."

"Here we go again," everyone within earshot chorused.

Hunter laughed as her cousin defended her own work
ethic. Tima stood up saying something about looking for a
toilet to vomit in. Cliff just rolled his eyes before taking his
leave as well. He didn't give an excuse. Eunice lay back in her
chair and pretended to dose under her sunglasses. After
Ebony ran out of steam, Hunter nudged her cousin's foot.

"I don't know why you try the same shit whenever we get
together. Nobody is going to approve of your lifestyle, you
little criminal. Just be thankful that Tima or somebody else
hasn't turned you in by now."

"That's because Tima is a good cop, not like a lot of these bastards running about in their fake British uniforms harassing and killing with impunity." Ebony shrugged. "But enough
shop talk." She turned to Sinclair. "Where did my egghead
cousin meet someone as gorgeous as you and do you have a
sister?"

'elcome home, stranger," Nikki glanced up from the
television as Sinclair walked into the house. She
made a show of looking at her watch then at the late afternoon sun burning outside the window.

Sinclair rolled her eyes and smiled. "Yes, I know that I said
I'd be back in the morning." She dropped a quick kiss on her
stepmother's forehead and kept walking. "I'll be right back."
In the kitchen, she sat down at the table and dialed her work
number.

"Volk Publishing. Bliss Sinclair's office."

"Good afternoon, Shelly."

"Hey, boss. I didn't expect to hear from you so soon."

Sinclair smiled at the sound of Shelly's voice. "Surprise."

"So what's going on? Are you calling to make sure that I'm
hard at work and not tippling your good whiskey in the executive washroom?"

"Not at all, my little underpaid poet. Tipple away if that's
your fancy." Sinclair chuckled. "I want you to tell Jonas that
I'm staying an extra two weeks and to take that time out of
my vacation bank."

Shelly laughed. "Are you serious?"

"Yes. There shouldn't be a problem. Make up some dire
reason for my extended stay if you have to, but let them
know I'll be back in three weeks."

"You are not kidding. Wow. First we can't get you to take
a vacation and now you don't want to come back." Shelly
laughed again. "What's her name?"

Sinclair hung up on her, still smiling. The house was quiet
except for the babble of the television. No Xavier. No Victor.
She stuck her head in the living room. "Is Papa in?"

"No, he took Xavier down to see his auntie, then went to
the bar with friends."

Sinclair sat next to her stepmother and dropped her bag
beside the couch. "Good."

"You don't want him to know about you and Hunter?"

"I think he already knows. I just don't want to face him
right now. I feel a little guilty for not telling him outright."

"If he's paying attention, he'll see that you're not trying to
trick him. Then things should be fine."

"Is it that simple?"

"Of course." Nikki grinned. "So when is Hunter coming
over for dinner?"

"Christ, I was hoping you'd forget about that."

"Are you joking? Especially after you extended your trip
just to be near her?"

"How did you know about that?"

"I have ears, silly. So when is she coming?"

Sinclair rolled her eyes at Nikki's persistence. "This
Friday."

"Great. I need to start planning now. Do you know what
she absolutely doesn't eat?"

"As far as I can tell, she eats anything."

"Even better."

They shared a smile. Nikki was bubbling over with curiosity, but she kept her mouth shut, only glanced at Sinclair with
her lower lip caught between her teeth, and her eyes wide
with mute inquiry. Sinclair was under no obligation to acknowledge the unspoken question. But she did.

"Things went well."

"Good."

"She wasn't upset with me, she just needed a little time
alone and with her friends."

"You mean Della."

Sinclair nodded and was surprised when Nikki rolled her
eyes. "What?"

"I love that woman, but sometimes she is worse than
Xavie."

Sinclair chuckled. "Let me guess. She can't decide whether
to keep the old toy or throw it away?"

Nikki giggled. "I'd never thought of Hunter as a toy before but that description will work."

"Hunter thinks she's being motherly."

"She is. Then she remembers what it was like to have
Hunter in her bed and Della starts wanting her again."

"I saw her over there yesterday, actually."

"And?"

"And nothing. She wished us luck, talked about random
things then left to go back to her shop. Despite her past relationship with my mother I still like her."

"Past relationship?"

Oops. "Nothing. Don't worry about it." Sinclair got up to
leave. "Is there anything to eat around here?"

Nikki dragged her back down on the sofa. "She and
Beverly used to do what you and Hunter do?"

Sinclair cursed her own big mouth and sighed. "Probably
some variation of it, yes."

Nikki's eyes went wide. "Are you serious?"

"Not at all, I do this comedy routine just for you." Sinclair
stood up again. "If you insist on talking about this let's at
least go to the kitchen so I can find some food."

"I can't believe this!" Nikki followed Sinclair and sat at
the table while her stepdaughter searched the fridge for edibles. "She never told me."

"Are you best friends or something? Is there any reason
that she should have told you?"

"I'm a regular customer. She and 1 talk all the time."

"Obviously not about some things." She found the ingredients for a corned beef sandwich and set about making one.
"In the lesbian community it's apparently common knowledge."

Nikki leaned back in her chair. "You think that's why she
didn't tell me? Because I'm not one of you?"

That surprised a laugh out of Sinclair. "Or it might have
something to do with the fact that you're Beverly's husband's
new wife."

"Oh."

"Is that all Nikki said?" Hunter looked up from her contemplation of the road under her feet.

"Pretty much. And, by the way, dinner for Friday is fine.
She did ask me what you liked to eat though."

"Besides you?"

"Stop." Sinclair blushed. "I didn't tell her that."

The two women walked up the hill toward Victor and
Nikki's house where Hunter had left the jeep. Sinclair had already finished the ice-cream cone that they'd left the house to
get and was eyeing the scant remains of the one Hunter was
working on.

"Just tell her that I'll eat just about anything as long as it's
well-seasoned," Hunter said.

"I already did."

"What about your father?"

"What about him?" Sinclair watched her lover suck the
last of the ice cream from the cone, then pop the last bite in
her mouth.

Hunter slid her a lazy look as she chewed. "Does he know
that she's invited me over?"

"I would assume so, although I haven't talked to him myself about that, or about us."

Hunter stopped walking. "You're not hiding this, are you?"

"Hardly." Sinclair kept walking. "Oh, come on, the house
is only around the corner. Don't make me stop now." The other woman caught up with her. "He knows where I spend
most of my nights and days. He and I have just never talked
about it." She tossed Hunter a grin. "If you're so anxious to
be out and proud then come Friday dressed in your lesbian
best."

"Very funny."

Sinclair chuckled. "I thought it was."

Hunter lightly pinched her waist. "Then you better run,
funny girl, 'cause I'm coming to get you."