Allegra's Shadow Read online

  A rush of guilt instantly followed and she brought herself back to the edge of reason. “I’m here to bury Allegra, not become entranced by a man,” she whispered to the empty room.

  Mariah turned her thoughts to her sister.

  When she was seventeen, Allegra declared that she’d remain beautiful until the end, which is why she scheduled weekly facials and exercised six days a week. She wanted to stay in prime condition. She was only thirty-eight years old and now she was gone. Perhaps that’s why her sister lived so vigorously. It was as if Allegra knew she would not be in this world long.

  A regretful sigh escaped Mariah. Though only three years apart, they had not been close, so Mariah did not cry or grieve deeply for her sister. She mourned the lack of that intimate sisterly bond more—the connection that was supposed to help them weather divorce, widowhood, the death of parents, or children moving away. Mariah had their father, Robert St. Cloud, to thank for that. She shook her head violently. No. She would not think about him.

  Her mind drifted back to Anthony, to the heat that emanated from his muscular frame…

  Mariah groaned, the sound low and troubled.

  For God’s sake, her sister was dead.

  And feelings like that had no place during a time like this.

  #

  Day fully rolled into night when Anthony entered his North Raleigh home, and Ming, his one-year-old dog, greeted him with the usual enthusiasm. Anthony shut off the alarm, savoring the coolness distributed throughout the house. He quickly closed the door to keep out the moist air and keep Ming inside.

  Anthony’s home was peaceful, yet strong. Silvery blue trim complemented slate blue walls. Ms. D suggested the colors and he soon found that he liked the combination. There were three sand-colored area rugs covering his cherry wood floors. One in the living room under the sofa table with a warm oak finish, one in the den, and the other in his bedroom.

  Anthony’s front door opened right into the living room and the scent of cinnamon. A fireplace occupied a far right corner, and above it were several pictures: a black and white of Grandma Lilly, a light-skinned, middle-aged woman with graying, dark shoulder-length hair and snapping coffee brown eyes; a color close-up of his parents on their wedding day, and a few of Anthony between the ages of one and nine. On top of the fireplace was a small bowl filled with a few tablespoons of cinnamon, a trick Grandma Lilly used to freshen up a room.

  Near the front door and to the left was a chocolate loveseat. A matching couch sat in the center of the room, facing a transitional entertainment center with rich merlot finish. The 54-inch LCD HD flat-screen TV occupied the middle row and two glass cabinets housed a DVR, and a CD player. Around the corner was a separate room that Anthony turned into a den, complete with desktop computer, printer, TV and a full-sized futon.

  To the right of the front door was a small, unfurnished dining room that led to the eat-in kitchen and a laundry room. The granite countertop and floors, and the stainless steel appliances gave the kitchen a not-so-ordinary appearance, and dark wooden cabinets gleamed.

  After Anthony grabbed a bottle of water from the refrigerator, he headed to his bedroom. Ming followed and got comfortable in the pet bed outside the door.

  Anthony found himself wondering if Mariah would like it here. He closed his eyes and breathed.

  Mariah.

  Images of Mariah circled inside his head. Her low voice and reticence were a welcome change from Allegra’s vanity. Standing about five-four, Mariah was shorter than the women he usually dated. Capris and a tank top outlined her small-breasted, pear shape. Her hair was the color of dark brown sugar and reached the middle of her neck, drawing attention to her high cheekbones and a rare diamond-shaped face. She was appealing in an understated way, which made him hungry to see her again.

  But it was her eyes that had caught and held his attention. Vulnerable yet guarded, they were wide-set and unusual, one chocolate brown, and the other half a shade lighter, dominated a uniquely attractive face, the color of smooth milk chocolate. Her mouth with its fuller upper lip…when Mariah licked her lips, his pulse raced and it took all he had not to devour their softness.

  Anthony shook his head ruefully. This was not the time for thoughts like this.

  One corner of Anthony’s mouth turned up in mild amusement. When she tried to pull her hand from his, something inside him coiled unexpectedly. It was more than just the gravity of the situation. She attempted to use distance as a shield, but her deer-in-the-headlights expression gave him the impression that she was not immune to him.

  Anthony decided that he would make it difficult for Mariah St. Cloud to keep him at arm’s length again.

  His pulse quickened as his mind returned to Mariah’s incredible lips. Almost instantly, he felt himself swell against his jeans. A rough curse escaped him and Anthony dashed to the bathroom, stripped and turned on the shower. He stepped inside and cursed again, louder this time, as cold water battered him while visions of Mariah burned behind his eyelids.

  #

  When Mariah saw Anthony’s blue metallic Chevy Equinox drive past her window, she figured it was safe to come out of her room. But before she talked to Gran D, she checked on her mother, who hadn’t left her room since they’d arrive.

  Mariah entered into the bedroom. Melancholy saturated it. She embraced her mother. “You should eat something.”

  “I’m not hungry.”

  “Mom, you have to keep up your strength. I need to talk to Gran D, and then I’ll make something light for you right after.”

  Anna did not respond.

  Mariah left her grief-stricken mother and headed down to her grandmother’s bedroom. She leaned one shoulder against Gran D’s open door, watching her fluff the pillows on her queen-sized bed. High above the dresser hung a portrait of a praying, black Jesus.

  Gran D glanced up before returning her attention to the task at hand. “Ya alright?”

  “I’m okay,” Mariah responded. “Where’s Kevin?”

  “He went to the market for me.”

  “Oh.” A slight pause. “Gran D?”

  “Yes, baby,” she replied without looking up, placing one pillow on the teal-blue blanket before picking up another.

  “Did you speak or see…Allegra before she went to Nassau last week?” Mariah knew about the trip because her sister called Anna a few days before she left and promised to bring her a gift. She never mentioned buying a gift for her sister. Mariah wasn’t surprised, but it still hurt. Allegra spent nearly all their lives either teasing or ignoring her.

  “She called me on the same day she called your mama … and when she came back early.” Gran D hesitated momentarily.

  “What was going on with her?”

  Gran D’s countenance darkened quickly with an indecipherable emotion, but she maintained contact with Mariah’s steady gaze. “I don’t know.” Her veined hands clenched the pillow before setting it down.

  Mariah’s eyes probed her grandmother’s face. Her supreme effort to retain a deadpan expression was the very thing that gave her away.

  Hmmm.

  Then Gran D uttered something unexpected. “I know ya wanted to be close to her. But as much as I loved her, Allegra was her father’s daughter and that made things harder for ya. There’s no getting ‘round that or denyin’ it.”

  Mariah shrugged dismissively, but even after all these years, the truth wounded her deeply.

  “Ya mama’s got a hard way to go,” Gran D whispered hoarsely. “Chil’ren should bury their parents, not the other way ‘round.”

  Mariah remained silent, knowing Gran D was thinking of her youngest daughter.

  Aunt Celia. Mariah only remembered bits and pieces of her. She was pretty with a Hennessey-colored complexion, wavy hair and a bright smile. She died when Mariah was four, and the loss took a chunk out of Gran D’s heart, a place no one else could ever touch, even when she was alive. It was ironic how much Mariah’s relationship with her father mirrored her mother and Gr
an D’s relationship. In both cases, the favorite child died young.

  Mariah knew Gran D hadn’t been the best mother to Anna; Anna had told her about their relationship when she was in college. But Gran D was the best grandmother she, Kevin and Allegra ever had, and after Celia’s death, she softened toward Anna. Maybe she was atoning for whatever wrong she had done, maybe wisdom came with age, or maybe Aunt Celia’s death had forced Gran D to appreciate her eldest daughter in a way she couldn’t if Aunt Celia had lived.

  Drawing her shoulders back, Gran D said decisively, “Kevin should be back soon. Better get ready to put dinner on.”

  Mariah bit back a sigh. “Don’t bother,” she advised. “It’s getting late. I’ll just order something later so you won’t have to –”

  Gran D’s spine jerked with stiff dignity. “Ya need real food.”

  Mariah followed Gran D into the kitchen, pulling out a side chair. Gran D’s thirty-year-old kitchen had been modernized with a ceramic stove top, a black microwave and a stainless-steel refrigerator. The kitchen sported a fresh, cool mint semi-gloss coat of paint and ceramic tiles replaced the vinyl floor. The only thing that hadn’t changed was the gigantic wooden spoon and fork that hung on the wall near the entrance.

  Mariah heard the front door open and close. A few seconds later, Kevin entered the kitchen with a small plastic bag of groceries. He put some of the items away, except for a package of boneless, skinless chicken breasts and a bottle of canola oil.

  “Thank ya, baby.”

  He lounged casually against the kitchen counter, his arms folded across his chest. “You don’t have to cook,” he stated respectfully, watching Gran D cut the plastic wrapping off the chicken with a sharp, thin knife. “We can order something.”

  “That’s what I said but –”

  Gran D pulled her glasses down to the bridge of her nose, stabbing the two with a glare over the rim that shut them both up.

  Once dinner was cooked, Mariah took her mother a small plate.

  When she returned to the kitchen, Mariah, Gran D and Kevin quietly discussed funeral arrangements as they ate.

  Kevin finished first.

  Mariah studied her cousin, Aunt Celia’s only child, as he efficiently moved around the kitchen, putting the leftover food away. Though he was her only grandson, Gran D didn’t cater to him. It didn’t hurt that he was eye candy, too. Sharp cheekbones and chiseled lips enhanced his already-good looks while short, wavy, dark brown hair drew attention to a straight forehead, a slim nose, and light brown eyes in a warm beige face. Mariah remembered how girls tried to use her to get close to him when they were younger.

  Before he left, Kevin hugged the two women and promised, “I’ll return in the morning to take y’all to Cousin Seth’s funeral home.”

  When she finished eating, Mariah helped her grandmother clean up.

  As Gran D wiped down the counter with a Pine Sol soaked sponge, Mariah watched her.

  “Speak ya mind.”

  Mariah jerked. “What?”

  Gran D turned around, her dark eyes penetrating. “I feel ya eyes in my back. Spit it out.”

  Mariah wavered a brief moment, and then plunged right in. “Why were you so eager to get rid of the twins?”

  The blinking of the eyes was Mariah’s only clue that she’d surprised her grandmother. “Allegra’s death…it’s fam’ly business; they’re no kin to me.”

  “Neither is Anthony.”

  “Blood don’t make ya fam’ly,” Gran D declared, “but Anthony’s more kin than the twins’ll ever be.” Gran D’s nostrils flared somewhat as she slid her glasses down the bridge of her nose and peered over the top. “Thomas…is another story. I never did care for him.”

  Mariah could understand why Gran D disliked Thomas. He reeked of arrogance and domination. His handshake was a perfect example. Mariah felt like he deliberately used it to emphasize his will. “I can’t believe Allegra was in a committed relationship, or that he was going to propose to her.”

  “Humph.” Gran D pushed her glasses back up with her forefinger. “Allegra would’ve said no.”

  Mariah nodded in agreement. “Thomas seems like the type that needs to control, and Allegra liked her freedom.” The truth was that Allegra was too competitive, too Machiavellian to sustain a meaningful relationship, but she kept that to herself. Even though Gran D knew this, she didn’t need to hear it. Not now.

  “Now Thomasina…I don’t mind her,” Gran D continued. “Truth is, I feel sorry for her, always bein’ in Thomas’s shadow.”

  Mariah’s eyes lowered and the lines of her mouth constricted. Empathy for Thomasina welled within her. She knew how it felt to be eclipsed by a vain sibling, one who never let you forget they were dynamic and better-looking than you’d ever be. The damage lasts a lifetime. “In a perfect world, siblings are supposed to help each other, not tear them down,” she murmured.

  Gran D’s eyes softened as she looked at Mariah. “Too bad it’s not a perfect world.”

  #

  The shower was heavenly, but due to a sleepless night, Mariah got up earlier than usual the next morning. Her mind was filled with sour images of Allegra dying, of wondering how her life ended. The thought left a hollow in her chest.

  She knew that Gran D and her mother were already awake. They had always been early risers. When Mariah reached the kitchen, the scent of pork bacon tickled her nose.

  Gran D stood at the stove, one hand on a skillet, the other holding a spatula as she flipped the sizzling pieces of meat. The hem of her strawberry sundress brushed the tops of her slippers and her silver hair was tied in a bun.

  Anna sat at the table, a mug halfway to her lips, the stoop of her shoulders visible through her tan robe. She was a very pretty woman who looked younger than her fifty-six years, despite her recent heartbreak. Anita Baker-styled hair lightly sprinkled with gray complemented her features. She and her daughters inherited Gran D’s chocolate candy skin tone and high cheekbones, but Anna shared her mother’s heart-shaped face.

  Even from a distance, Mariah could see the haggard look in her mother’s eyes. She quietly walked forward on bare feet, the kitchen tile cool compared to the warmth of the carpet. “Morning,” came Mariah’s hoarse greeting.

  Gran D looked over her shoulder briefly. “Mornin’.”

  Mariah looked at her mother, who had appeared not to have heard her greeting. She just sat there, staring into space. Mariah laid a hand on her mother’s shoulder. “Mom.”

  The combination of touch and sound seemed to yank Anna back to the present. She raised mournful dark brown eyes to look at her daughter. “Hey, hon,” Anna said, briefly placing her free hand on Mariah’s, her voice thick and uneven. She slowly set the mug down, but didn’t release it. Her thumb absently ran back and forth over the rim as she stared at it.

  “I told ya mama coffee’s not breakfast.” Gran D slid the pieces of bacon from the pan to a nearby plate covered with paper towels to drain the grease.

  “I can’t eat,” Anna replied miserably.

  Gran D continued as if her daughter hadn’t spoken. She picked up a piece of bacon, along with a few pancakes, and put them on a paper plate before placing the meal in front of her eldest child. “Go on.” Then she put a plate in front of Mariah.

  A stick of soft butter and a bottle of syrup were already on the table.

  Throwing up her hands in silent surrender, Mariah slid into the chair and rested her forearms on the table.

  Anna picked up a fork.

  Gran D moved to the cabinet above and to the right of the stove, pulled out two mugs and set them on the table. Then she took a container of Simply Orange out of the refrigerator, pouring nearly eight ounces in each mug before putting it back.

  “What about you?” Mariah asked.

  Gran D waved a hand in the air. “I already had some.”

  Mariah closed her eyes in a prayer before eating, and breakfast was consumed in aching silence while Gran D cleaned up. She could only finish half
of her portion, while Anna managed a quarter of hers.

  Gran D took their plates and appraised them with critical eye. “At least ya ate somethin’.” She placed paper towels over the plates and set them next to the sink. Then she announced, “Allegra gave me her life insurance papers. She left the four of us twenty-five thousand each.”

  Though Anna remained unfazed, Mariah’s mouth dropped open. Allegra had her favorites, after all, and Mariah was not one of them.

  Noticing Mariah’s astonishment, Gran D shrugged. “She could be a kind soul sometimes.”

  Mariah was still in a state of disbelief. She and Allegra were anything but close, so why would she leave her anything?

  #

  After breakfast, Mariah donned black capris, a yellow tank top and soft wedges to wear to the funeral home.

  About a half hour later, Kevin arrived. While her mother and Gran D dressed, Mariah asked him to follow her outside.

  They walked passed Gran D’s gold Saturn that she drove anymore, after she broke her arm in a car accident eight years ago. The experience still shook her, and she depended on neighbors and Kevin to get around. A mild breeze floated over them as they moved in the grass, avoiding the gravel and dirt of the driveway, and the dust billowing up around their pants. They steered away from some bees buzzing nearby until they were several feet away from the house. Then Mariah dropped the bombshell about Allegra’s life insurance.

  “She left us how much?” Kevin asked with raised brows.

  “Twenty-five grand, each,” Mariah repeated. “I can’t believe it, either.”

  “I figured she’d leave everything to Gran D and Aunt Anna.”

  The sun was high and vivid, causing Mariah to squint against its glare. She took her sunglasses off her head and placed them on her nose. The temperature would reach the upper seventies today and she already felt warm. “I knew she’d leave you something. You had a better relationship with her than I did.” Mariah paused. “Did Allegra talk to you before she…?”