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Authors: Nikita Lynnette Nichols

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BOOK: Amaryllis
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“I got my money.”
Veronica stood from the chair she was seated in, looking around the hospital room for Amaryllis' purse. “Well, can I have my cut so I can go?”
“I can't believe you're looking at me lying here half dead and asking me for money that you did nothing for.”
“Half dead means half alive. You're gonna be all right.”
Amaryllis pointed toward the closet where her personal items had been stored. “Veronica, take your cut out of my purse and get out of here.”
Veronica counted out five thousand dollars and placed the money in her bra. She kissed her daughter's forehead and left the hospital room. “Good job, baby. You made Momma real proud.”
For two weeks after the assault, Amaryllis attended physical therapy daily to get her pelvis and shoulder in working order. She hadn't seen or heard from Veronica since she'd come to get her cut of the money. Amaryllis had taken a leave of absence from work and moved in with Bridgette. It was a week later when she'd seen the article in the
Chicago Sun-Times
that was entitled:
Cordell Bryson, Pastor of Holy Deliv-
erance Baptist Church, And Best Friend,
Randall Loomis, To Wed Identical Twins
Tomorrow.
And now, here she was, watching as Randall's limousine vanished from her sight. After giving Cordell the finger, Amaryllis went back to Bridgette's apartment to call her sister, Michelle, in Las Vegas, Nevada. Amaryllis felt that she needed a fresh start in a new city. She hoped Michelle would help her out.
“Hi, Michelle, it's Amaryllis,” she said into the phone receiver.
Michelle Denise Price, Amaryllis' elder by two years, was always happy to hear her younger sister's voice. The girls' father, Nicholas Price, had met and married Amaryllis' mother, Veronica, after Michelle's mother died. But after a year of arguing and fighting over money issues, Nicholas decided he'd be much happier without the stress Veronica poured into their marriage. He filed for divorce, packed up two-and-a-half-year-old Michelle and headed for Las Vegas, Nevada. Six months later, Nicholas received a call from Veronica informing him that his daughter, named Amaryllis, had been born.
Having grown up separately, Michelle with their father and Amaryllis with her mother, the two sisters, through telephone calls and summer visits, managed to become close and remain close though they lived thousands of miles apart.
“Hey there, long time no hear. How's my baby sister doing? What have you been up to?” Michelle asked.
Amaryllis exhaled. “A whole lot. I was wondering if I could come and stay with you for a while.”
 
 
Michelle stood and waited anxiously for her sister at the security gate. Amaryllis came through the terminal of the McCarran International Airport looking beaten down and broken up. Her left eye was still swollen and dark. The stitches in the corners of her lips were very visible. She limped on a cane and a cast supported her right arm. Michelle didn't recognize her sister. She made eye contact with Amaryllis then looked past her.
Amaryllis came and stood next to Michelle. “Do I look that bad that my own sister doesn't recognize me?”
Michelle looked into the face of someone she once knew as beautiful and well put together. It wasn't often that she got to see Amaryllis, but when she did, Amaryllis always had her hair, nails and make up done to perfection. Michelle wore a horrid expression. She was shocked at how grotesque Amaryllis' face looked. “Oh my God. What happened to you? Were you in some kind of accident?”
“Yeah, I accidentally walked into a fist.”
Michelle reached out to hug her, but Amaryllis cautiously stepped backward. Three weeks had passed since Amaryllis' unfortunate encounter with Darryl and his posse, but her body was still very sore. “No, please don't touch me. It hurts too much.”
“Oh, Amaryllis, how could you let something like this happen?”
“Do you have forever and a day for me to tell you about it? That's how long it'll take me.”
Michelle relieved Amaryllis' left arm of her carry-on tote. “First, let's get your luggage, then I'll take you home and get you into a nice comfy bed. I told Daddy that you were coming and he's excited.”
It was no secret to Amaryllis that their father favored Michelle. “Yeah, I bet. Why is he so excited to see his daughter whom he's always called
The Bad Seed
?”
“Don't go there, Amaryllis. Growing up, you were a brat and you know it. How many Catholic school girls do you know get arrested at eight years old for pushing a nun down the steps?”
“Well, the heifer shouldn't have taken my candy. She didn't buy it.”
“It was still wrong for you to do that.”
“Okay, so I do one bad thing as a child and folks never let me forget it.”
They had been slowly walking to the baggage claim area when Michelle abruptly stopped walking and looked at Amaryllis. “Excuse
me? One
bad thing? Let's take a walk down memory lane, shall we? You gave Daddy hell every time you came to visit. How about that time when we were at summer camp and you put hair remover in Karla Monroe's shampoo? It took almost three years for that girl's hair to grow back.”
“Well, she shouldn't have called me fatso.”
“That's beside the point, Amaryllis. Karla calling you names didn't hurt you, but what
you
did tormented her for years.”
“Okay, so I did two bad things,” Amaryllis said as they resumed walking.

Two
bad things, Amaryllis? I don't think so. Remember the summer you came to visit when you sat and waited for our neighbor, Mrs. Taylor, to leave at night to go to work? Every night you watched her husband's girlfriend sneak in the back door. You decided to take pictures of her going in the house for a week then mail the pictures anonymously to Mrs. Taylor.”
“Come on now, Michelle, you know good and well that he was wrong for cheating on his wife.”
“It was none of your business.”
“He stopped cheating didn't he?”
“He had no choice after Mrs. Taylor hired two goons to break both of his legs.”
“Mrs. Taylor didn't seem to mind pushing him around the neighborhood in a wheelchair.”
Michelle chuckled. “Of course not. With two broken legs, she didn't have to worry about him creepin' anymore.”
“Okay, Michelle; I did three bad things.”
Michelle stopped walking again and looked at Amaryllis. “
Three
bad things? What about that time when you—”
“Hey, I didn't come all this way to walk down memory lane with you.”
“You're the one who seemed to have forgotten why your nickname is
The Bad Seed
.”
“Well, thanks to you, now I remember. Can we please get out of this airport? My leg is killing me and it's hot as heck here in Vegas.”
Michelle grabbed Amaryllis softly around her waist and carefully led her to the baggage claim area. “We only got a little ways to go. Lean on me. And as far as the weather goes, September in Vegas is like July in Chicago.”
At twenty-eight years old, Michelle was the youngest and only African American female attorney who owned and ran a law firm in the entire city of Reno. Price & Associates sat in the heart of the city. It housed six female attorneys who were all working for Michelle. It wasn't that she discriminated against men, but the women who came to her, fresh out of law school, expressed how difficult it was to get hired in the law business. Michelle could relate to their frustrations because she, too, was interviewed and hired by a female partner after being turned away many times by other firms due to her gender.
Two months at the law firm, Michelle was made partner, and in only three years, she managed to save enough money to invest in a building of her own. She vowed to herself that she would give as many women as she could a chance in life. Corporate law was her expertise and her skills blew the minds of business owners who challenged Michelle and her team in the courtroom. Michelle's all-female staff was fierce.
Price & Associates had been in business for two and a half years and had never lost a case. In the past eight months it had gone from being the ninth best law firm out of seventeen in the city, to the third best. Michelle was confident in herself and her team to know that in another year, they'd be ranked the best and most requested corporate law firm in Reno, Nevada.
Michelle owned a three-level town home on North Bally Street, located on the east side of Las Vegas. Though she lived alone, the town home consisted of four bedrooms, one of which housed her home office, a laundry room and a full bath, all on the third floor. The entire second floor dedicated itself to Michelle's master suite and bath. This room surrounded her king-sized white wicker bed, night-stand, eight-drawer dresser, full-length mirror and bench that was placed at the foot of her bed. This room also held a compact refrigerator, a thirty-two inch flat screen television and a cherry stained marble fireplace.
Toward the front of the master bedroom, Michelle designed a sitting room with two chaise chairs, a glass cocktail table and a five-shelf bookcase that held a collection of novels written by African American authors. This is where Michelle spent her time when she wasn't in the courtroom. She would curl up on one of the chaise chairs and read away the hours. Christian fiction novels were her favorite books to read. Michelle took pride in her book collection.
On the cocktail table, sat her latest delivery from Black Expressions Book Club. Michelle did so much reading that she vowed to take at least six months off from practicing law in the near future and write her own novel. Surely she could find something to write about. How she made it to the top as a young black attorney would be a great start.
On the first floor of the town home were the kitchen, dining and living rooms. A half bath was just off the kitchen and a door adjacent to the bath led to the two and a half car garage where Michelle stored her Lincoln Navigator and late model Jaguar X-Type.
Amaryllis loved the town home and was in awe of its décor and magnitude. As Michelle escorted her from room to room, Amaryllis could actually see herself in a home of her own. When Michelle opened the door to the garage, Amaryllis froze.
Michelle saw the look on Amaryllis' face. “What's wrong?” Amaryllis couldn't take her eyes away from the Jaguar. Michelle followed her gaze to the car and asked her again. “Amaryllis, what's wrong?”
Still unable to move or respond, Amaryllis kept her focus on the car. Michelle slowly walked and stood in front of her and saw tears on the verge of falling onto her cheeks. Amaryllis blinked and the teardrops fell onto her face.
Michelle wiped the tears away. “Honey, I can't help if you don't tell me what's wrong.”
Amaryllis forced herself to look away from the car and into her sister's eyes. “You remember the guy I told you about; the one I lived with a year ago?”
“Yeah, his name was Randall, right?”
“He had a Jaguar exactly like yours.”
Michelle didn't see the connection between Amaryllis' tears and Randall's car. “Why is that upsetting you?”
Amaryllis wiped her tears away. “Because I'm reminded of Black.”
Michelle frowned. “Who?”
“Black.”
“Who is Black?”
“Randall is Black.”
“I know he's a black man.”
“No, his name is Black.”
“Randall Black?,” Michelle asked.
“No, Black
is
Randall.”
Michelle shrugged her shoulders. “Amaryllis, you're not making any sense.”
“Black is the nickname I gave Randall because he's so dark.”
“Oh, I see. Thanks for clearing that up. But why the tears about the car?”
“Looking at the Jaguar reminds me of the good times Black and I had. We went everywhere in his Jaguar before ...” She got choked up and couldn't finish her sentence.
Michelle wiped away the new tears that made their appearance. “Before what, honey?”
“Before I asked Darryl to get his boys to trash it.” Amaryllis couldn't hold the cry any longer. She shifted her weight, leaned on the door to the garage, put her face in her hands and let it all out. “Oh, Michelle, I've destroyed the best thing that has ever happened to me.”
Michelle reached out to her sister and held her tight. “Shh, it's all right, sweetie. Come on and let's get you off of this leg.”
Amaryllis chose the largest guest bedroom on the third floor. Michelle helped her undress and get into bed. She fluffed the pillows for Amaryllis then brewed chamomile tea and brought her a cup. “This should calm your nerves a bit. Are you hungry?”
BOOK: Amaryllis
6.42Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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