The Amber Stone (11 page)

“Who?”

“A twelfth century nun who cared for the sick and dying during the plague.”

“That’s not fair.”

Michelle rested her chin in her hands. “Since you’re obviously not here for advice, what do you want?”

“I just need some contacts to do some minor renovations on the store. Will you help me or not?”

Michelle glanced out the window. “Are you doing this because of a man?”

Only partly.
“No.”

Michelle shifted her gaze to her. “Promise,” Michelle said, knowing a Clifton’s word was golden.

Teresa tugged on one of her bracelets. “This is important to me.”

“That isn’t a promise. Are you still thinking about that stranger?”

“No. I’m not doing this because of him.”

“Okay,” Michelle said with an air or resignation. “I’ll make some calls and then let me see what we have to work with.”

***

Kenneth Preston looked over the papers Michelle had handed him to review then set them down and swore.

The three of them sat in Kenneth and Jessie’s living room. They could hear a video game being played in the next room by their adopted daughter Syrah. Jessie and Kenneth sat together while Michelle faced him. Her brother-in-law was, at times, an unnervingly handsome man with chestnut skin and brown eyes. He and her sister had settled well into married life—as if they’d always been together. But what surprised her more was how well he fit into all their lives. She trusted him and that was rare.

At times seeing them together briefly reminded Michelle of being in love, but she always brushed the thought away. Her life was settled now and so was Jessie’s. Her youngest sister had always given her cause for concern with her reckless behavior and quick temper. Now it seemed that Teresa had taken her place.

Michelle nodded at Kenneth’s words. “My thoughts exactly. What do I do?”

Kenneth frowned. “Nothing. It’s lucrative. Actually considering the location, it’s making more money than I thought it would be.”

Michelle stared at him surprised. “But Teresa doesn’t know anything about running a store and—”

“We have to support her,” Jessie said.

“And watch her fail?” Michelle said.

“She might not fail.”

“She doesn’t want to sell Valley Ray products. That’s going to hurt her.”

“Have you seen the place?” Kenneth asked.

“I’m afraid to,” Michelle said with a shiver. “She hasn’t been acting like herself recently and this,” she pointed to the papers, “has me worried. She’s being reckless and ridiculous.”

Kenneth shook his head. “I disagree. I don’t see what the problem is.”

“Aside from buying a store she’s moving in with Aunt Margaret’s family…Mum would have a fit.”

“Mum’s not here,” Jessie said. “And Teresa’s a grown woman.”

“Don’t tell me this doesn’t bother you.”

Jessie shifted in her seat looking conflicted. “Teresa has a right to live her own life. To make choices we may not understand. You got separated and we still don’t—”

“We’re not talking about me,” Michelle said in a tight voice.

“That’s right. We’re never talking about you because your life is so perfect.”

“That’s not—”

“Why we’re here,” Kenneth said resting a hand on his wife’s knee to stop any further protests.

Michelle turned to him. “Teresa trusts you, couldn’t you have a word with her?”

“And say what?”

“I don’t want Kenneth involved with this,” Jessie said.

“He’s family, he’s already involved.”

Kenneth squeezed Jessie’s knee, stopping her from saying her next words. “I think Jasmine’s right,” he said, using her given name. “We have to let Teresa do what she wants.”

Michelle nodded, grim. “Of course, you’re a united front. A happy wife is a happy life, right?” She stood.

He stood also, his cutting gaze holding her still and instantly making her regret her words. He spoke in a soft tone of warning, “Don’t play dirty, Michelle. You know I can beat you.”

She sighed. He was right, she was being petty. “I just have a bad feeling about all this.” She turned to Jessie. “Read her stones or something and convince her—”

“I don’t like doing readings for family,” Jessie said. “You know that.”

“Right,” Michelle said, gathering up her things. She walked to her car and was about to open the door when Kenneth called out her name.

She turned to him, curious at the seriousness of his tone.

“I know,” he said, once he reached her, the understanding and compassion in his gaze nearly brought her to tears. He understood her worry; he had a complicated relationship with his younger brother who he’d worried over all his life. She took a deep breath, taking comfort in the fact that she wasn’t alone.

“Thanks,” she said gathering herself. “It’s just…she talked about some guy—”

Kenneth’s gaze sharpened. “Did you get a name? Want me to look into it?”

Michelle shook her head. “No, I’m sure it’s nothing.”

Kenneth nodded, but his serious gaze remained. “If you change your mind, you let me know.”

***

“You will not stay with your Aunt Margaret’s family,” Bertha said when Teresa told her about her plans. The two women sat in Bertha’s living room with an afternoon sun touching the leaves on a bouquet of violets on the coffee table.

Teresa blinked, shocked by her friend’s outright opposition to the idea. She figured she would be the only one who truly understood. “Bertha, they need me, especially Louisa. What I sensed from her was a desperate unhappiness and in a vision I saw—”

“I know what you saw,” Bertha said in a soft voice. “And it’s tragic, but that doesn’t mean you can save her.”

“I’m not trying to save anyone, I just want to help her. Louisa needs me.”

Bertha kissed her teeth in annoyance. “And you need to be needed. Your father did you a big disservice by making your heart so big.”

“That means I have a lot to give.”

Bertha frowned. “Right, and a lot for others to take.” She adjusted the colorful scarf she had wrapped around her shoulders. “I don’t like this at all. That girl is trouble. Your father helped bring his sister and her family over here and likely regretted it. They should have stayed in Jamaica. The entire family has made their bed and now they must lie in it.”

“Nobody chooses to be poor.”

“They’re not just poor in money.” She touched her chest. “But poor in heart and spirit.”

“I can change the heaviness in that house and fill it with the joy they desperately need. And with the store I can prove—”

Bertha sent Teresa a sharp look. “You have nothing to prove. You have done nothing wrong, you’ve prosecuted yourself needlessly.”

“I think Bess would have wanted this,” Teresa said. “And I want this.”

“Are you ready to tell me what Sean said?”

“There’s no need,” Teresa said with a bright smile. “I’ve pushed him out of my heart and mind completely.”

Bertha nodded, but didn’t believe a word.

“Is it as ugly to you as it is to me?” Michelle whispered to Jessie as they stood outside the “Beautiful You” store. Teresa had closed the store for a few days so that they could make changes.

“Yes.”

Teresa beamed at her sisters. “Isn’t this great!”

Michelle and Jessie pasted on smiles.

“I know the outside needs some work,” she continued.

“That a bulldozer could fix,” Michelle mumbled. Jessie nudged her.

“But the inside has lots of potential,” Teresa finished, not hearing her.

The sisters set out to make that happen. Both Michelle and Jessie took time off work—

cleaning the windows and floor while Teresa set out to clean up the weedy bushes. Inside, Teresa put her design skills to work and created an environment to encourage customers to linger by using different levels for display, installing adequate lighting and mirrors and painting the walls a warm cream-yellow. They also provided a coat rack, a place for a bag check and an umbrella stand so that customers could roam unencumbered. By the end of a few days, even the two shop clerks were amazed.

Teresa spent two days discussing the various products with the store manager, a stocky man with a shifting toupee, and the clerks, instructing them on how they were to interact and advise customers. On the day of the grand re-opening she hosted a special sale that gained some local news coverage, but not the kind she’d hoped for. Instead of focusing on her expanded product line, the reporter only focused on the fact that she wasn’t selling any Valley Ray supplements. Unfortunately, neither of her sisters could be there. Michelle had to travel out of town and Jessie had a pressing former engagement. But they had a bouquet of flowers delivered, which Teresa displayed in the center of the store.

“Is there a reason you’re not supporting one of the largest employers in the area?” the reporter asked.

“I am a small, independent shop giving other companies a chance. I have nothing against Valley Ray.”

But the press hurt some early sales. Feeling a little defeated at the end of her first week, as she saw her hopes for instant success fade, Teresa packed up some rolls from the local bakery and decided to go visit Bertha. She stopped and stared when she saw a suspiciously familiar truck parked in the driveway. She marched up to the door and turned the handle—it was locked. When did Bertha start locking doors? She pounded on the door. Sean answered.

Teresa stumbled back in shock. He wasn’t supposed to be here. Bertha’s place was hers. He had the bay, but this little place was her true sanctuary and he acted as if he were at home. She felt violated, as if he’d stolen something precious from her.

“What are you doing here?” Teresa demanded. “And where’s Bertha?”

Sean flashed a slow smile. “Relax, Mother is—”

Mother?
Teresa waved her hands. “Never mind, you’re busy. I’ll come back later.”

His smile fell. “Wait. Let me go get her and—”

She took another step back. “No.”

“Teresa, at least let me—”

“I’m sorry I bothered you,” she said, hurrying to her car, hot tears stinging her eyes. First he’d ruined her mornings at the bay and now she couldn’t even visit Bertha without him popping up. He even knew her cousin Louisa. What if he stopped by the store to visit her? Teresa shook her head and took a deep breath. That was okay. She had to get over him and if Bertha wasn’t free, she had to depend on herself.

***

Sean watched Teresa speed down the drive, pensive.

“What is wrong with her?” he said to himself.

“Who was that?” Bertha asked, appearing by his side.

He turned to her. “Teresa.”

“And she just left without coming in? What did you say to her?”

“Nothing.”

“What did you say to her before?”

His brows shot up. “Did she tell you about that? I didn’t mean to upset her, but I meant what I said and I’d say it again.” Sean groaned deep in his throat, then pounded the frame of the door with his fist. “I don’t want this.” He pointed out into the distance. “I don’t want her. She’s driving me crazy.” He tapped the side of his head. “But for some reason she’s stuck up here and I don’t like it. I don’t want to care. I want my space and I want my peace, don’t I deserve it?”

“What did you say?” Bertha asked.

He paused. “She didn’t tell you?”

“No.”

He walked back into the house and sat in the living room. “I said I wouldn’t let her beauty tempt me and…what’s so funny?”

“Poor thing,” Bertha said taking a seat in front of him. “She doesn’t know you mean it.”

“What?”

“Teresa doesn’t know how beautiful she is. She thought you were insulting her.”

Sean looked at her for a long moment then shook his head. “No, that’s not it. She’s just annoyed I didn’t fall for her.”

“Sean—”

“And she’s trying to manipulate me,” he said, warming to his subject. “She even used tears. And she’s good, she almost got me.”

“Teresa has no guile, she wouldn’t try to manipulate you. Your honesty hurt her because she didn’t believe you.”

He shook his head and pulled on his beard, annoyed. “That doesn’t make sense.”

“Teresa isn’t like most women. Around here she’s just dark, fat and plain.”

His eyes flashed fire. “She’s what?” He held up a hand and flashed a cynical smile. “Good one. You nearly got me.” He stood and opened the door. He pointed to his truck. “You know the things I love? My truck and my cat and that’s it.” He folded his arms. “I didn’t come here to get myself involved with—” He shook his head. “Never mind.”

“You both know something is there. You should stop fighting it.”

Sean looked away, staring down at the driveway. He absently pounded the door frame with his fist. “No. I can’t,” he said, his voice cracking on the last word.

“Tell her about your wife, she might be able to help you.”

He turned sharply. “I don’t talk about things like that with anyone and I only told you—”

“Because you trust me,” Bertha said sensing his fear. “And you can keep on doing so. Your secrets are safe with me.” She gently covered his fist. “But Teresa has a few secrets of her own that may help you one day.”