Dead to Her(34)
She opened her message thread to Keisha again, her heartbeat getting faster. Screw it, she decided. There was only one way to find out what she was really feeling. She typed quickly, before she could change her mind. Let’s go out tomorrow if you like. Get some late drinks or something. I’ll let you know where in the morning. Sorry if this woke you!
It had barely been sent before a reply pinged back. Wild! See you then. X
Wild. God. Her stomach knotted. No going back now. She stretched out on the bed, her legs slightly parted. It felt good. She felt sexy. She slid her hand down under the sheets. There was no crime in fantasizing after all. Maybe she just needed to get it out of her system. She closed her eyes and remembered the kiss.
She woke later, startled, and sat up, her body on sudden alert, instinctually aware that something wasn’t quite right. A noise. Was it someone in the house? She listened, heart thumping in the hum of silence, for soft footfalls or a creak of wood. There was nothing. Not in the house. Outside. An engine running. That was all.
She got up and went to the balcony doors and shutters to close them, the breeze having dropped and the night air now thick hot tar filling the house. The car engine still thrummed and she frowned. This wasn’t the kind of neighborhood where people came and went at all hours of the night, loitering outside houses while saying good night to a beau. It was wealthy and sedate. Alarm systems turned on and residents in bed by midnight, barely even the chirp of cicadas on the neatly tended lawns to disturb the peace.
She peered out, mildly curious. The car wasn’t moving, just sitting there on the street opposite the house, headlights turned off, engine purring. It was a sedan, maybe blue but it was hard to tell, stopped as it was away from the gentle beam of the streetlamps. Who was inside? And who were they watching? On impulse, she stamped on the switch for the tall floor lamp by the dresser, filling the room with light, and then peered back out again, hidden from view. A brief moment later, the car pulled away, going a hundred yards or so before turning the headlights back on.
Her breath caught. Her. They’d been watching her. Or Jason. Or studying their new house. She stared into the silent darkness a little longer, until she was sure the car had gone. Who would want to watch their house? Jacquie. Maybe Jason’s ex-wife really was back in town. She turned the light out and the AC on and got back into bed. Could it have been Jacquie texting Jason in the middle of the night? Surely not. The divorce had been so bitter, there was no way she’d want him back now that she was single again. That love had long ago turned to dislike, if not outright hate.
Marcie closed her thoughts down. It was two in the morning and she’d long ago stopped losing sleep over Jacquie. Screw it. Tomorrow she’d go and buy something new to wear and then she had a night on the town to look forward to. A night with Keisha.
23.
Keisha was on a high and not only from the joint they were smoking in the dumpster alley behind the bar on River Street, heels wobbling on the cobbles. The air was filled with jazz and live band music, combined with the scent of seafood cooking, all spilling out from the lively bars and restaurants looking out over the water. This was Keisha’s kind of place, and the night was going great. Better than great. Marcie was wearing a shoestring-strap black glitter minidress that looked new, bare freshly tanned legs on show and hair loose around her shoulders, scrunched scruffy sexy. And she’d been there before Keisha arrived. The sight of her made Keisha’s heart thump too fast. She was curious, Keisha just knew it. For all that they’d laughed it off as a drunken moment over the first drink, their kiss had opened a door inside that they were both tempted to go through. Maybe they would. The night was still young and it felt good to be out in it, surrounded by people her own age, where she could breathe, away from the oppressive atmosphere of the staid luxury she now lived in. Away from all the ghosts, those who belonged in this city and the ones—there was no boy—she’d brought with her in her own fragile mind.
“I can’t believe we’re doing this again,” Marcie said, with the snort of an almost teenage giggle as she took a long hit on the reefer Keisha had brought with her. “I’ve only just recovered from last time.”
“It’s fine. I’ll hold your hair when you throw up.”
“Ah, true love.” Marcie laughed again and handed the joint back. Her eyes shone and Keisha laughed. She felt good tonight. Her head was clear. She liked these moods, they were way better than when the pendulum swung the other way and left her feeling needy and out of control.
“You not much of a smoker, Marcie?” One of their new friends, Daria, took a long hit before passing it on to Jade, her companion. There had been a drinks collision in the busy bar and they’d all gotten talking. The two girls were at Savannah State University, staying in the Tiger Court residence, their whole lives ahead of them. Daria did shifts as a waitress to make extra money for her tuition and Jade was thinking of dropping out and traveling for a year, working her way around beach resorts in Goa and Thailand. They were normal. No trust funds, no little Mercedes from Daddy. They were almost like some of the girls Keisha had known back home.
“Marcie’s been married too long,” Keisha teased. “She’s forgotten how to have fun.”
Marcie pulled a face at her. “You laugh but give it another five years with William and your joint days will be long over. Joint pain management is how you’ll be spending your time as you push his wheelchair.”