The Masterpiece

I asked for three, Lord, and here’s Shanice bringing up Grace. One more, Lord. Oh, Jesus, please, one more. “No. I stopped going before I met Grace.” He merged onto the freeway and accelerated, slipping easily between cars until he reached the fast lane.

“What made you quit going?”

“I wanted more than what I found there.” They drove for ten minutes in silence. Pulling off the freeway, he spotted a familiar parking structure, turned in, and pulled a ticket from the machine.

“I brought Grace here once,” Shanice confessed.

Roman laughed in disbelief. “What’d you do? Gag her and drag her?”

Shanice didn’t laugh. “Almost. I never knew her husband, Patrick. I met Grace after her divorce. She came to an evening Bible study. Nicole, Ashley, and I already had the Sunday-after-church brunch going and invited her to join us. Ashley went to the club with me occasionally. She likes to dance, too, but wasn’t always asked. Anyway, Grace never went. All she did was work—six days a week—and church on Sundays. She didn’t have a life. I thought she needed to loosen up and have some fun.” She looked away. “I’m an idiot.”

Roman spotted a parking space and whipped in. He wanted to hear more, but Shanice was already getting out of the car.

The club hadn’t changed. Though the faces were different, it was the same scene—men on the prowl, women on the make. Couples danced to the steamy beat, looking like they were having sex standing up and fully clothed. He couldn’t imagine Grace in a place like this.

“There’s Deena.” Shanice nodded toward the bar and wove her way toward a girl with two guys hovering. Roman followed, ready to step in if there was a problem. Shanice said something to the two men that had Deena protesting, and the men backed off. Shanice leaned in and talked to Deena, who was clearly arguing. Seeing it would take Shanice time to convince her friend to leave, Roman sat at the bar and ordered a Coke.

An attractive blonde slid onto the stool next to him. Her black dress was short, tight, and riding up on her shapely thighs. The low top made her chest look like a baby’s bottom. She smiled at him. “Finally, a man who looks interesting.”

Roman got up and stood beside Shanice.

Deena looked at him. “Oh, wow! Who are you?”

“Deena, this is my friend Roman Velasco. He’s here to help me get you home safely.”

“Okay.” She gave him a bleary-eyed, sloppy smile. “I’ll go anywhere with him.” When she started to stand, she sagged slightly and Roman slipped an arm around her to keep her upright.

As soon as the three of them made it out the front door and into the cool night air, Deena groaned. “I’m going to be sick.” She bent at the waist and threw up on the sidewalk. A car honked as it went by, teenage boys hanging out the windows, laughing and making cruel comments.

Deena moaned. “Oh, I wanna die . . .”

“Yeah, I know the feeling, honey.” Shanice took over and guided her to the parking lot, where she vomited again, this time in a garbage can. The two women talked in low voices. Deena started to cry, and Shanice put an arm around her. He felt a sense of déjà vu.

His mother often drowned herself in booze after a night of streetwalking. She’d cry and mumble to herself. Sometimes she smoked pot until she was too mellow to care about anything, including him.

Deena made it to Shanice’s Lexus on her own feet. She kept crying and mumbling while Shanice buckled her in. Shanice wiped the hair back from Deena’s face and told her to try to sleep. She’d be home soon. It took over an hour to reach Deena’s parents’ house, and the girl was sober enough to be embarrassed. She apologized profusely as Shanice helped her out of the car.

Roman got out. “You need a hand?”

“Better if I take her inside and talk to her folks. I might be a little while.”

“I’m not going anywhere.”

It was another hour before Shanice returned and sank into the passenger seat. “Thanks for coming with me, Roman. When she called, I took it as a cry for help.” She put her head back. “I hate that place.”

“What turned you off to it?”

“Grace.” She shook her head. “I was telling you how I wanted her to have some fun? Well, I made her take her hair down that night. It was long then. And blonde. And I made her put on one of my slinky dresses.” She glanced at him. “I dumped that part of my wardrobe after that night.” She sighed. “We walked into After Dark, and Grace froze with her mouth open. I thought it was hilarious and half dragged her inside. She was so shocked and uptight, I said I’d get her a drink. Of course she protested. She doesn’t drink, you know. I lied and said I’d get her something harmless. One was enough. She looked more relaxed than I’d ever seen her.”

Shanice leaned back. “Some guy asked me to dance, and off I went. I checked on Grace once, and she still had that sloe gin fizz in front of her. Or so I thought. I didn’t know she finished the one I bought her and ordered another. She seemed okay sitting at a table by the back wall, watching the action. I’m ashamed to say I forgot all about her for a while. When I did remember, she wasn’t there. She wasn’t in the ladies’ room, either. I looked all over and couldn’t find her. I was more ticked off than worried. I figured she called Uber and went home.” She covered her face. “I wish.”

Roman knew something bad happened that night, but was afraid to ask what.

“I called her the next day, intending to tell her it wasn’t nice to leave without telling me. I could tell she was crying. I asked what was wrong. She couldn’t even talk. I left work and went to see her. It took a while, but she told me everything. She was so ashamed, and it was my fault. I should’ve been watching out for her instead of off having a good time.”

His hands shifted on the wheel. “Did someone rape her?” He could feel the heat of anger rising.

“No, thank God. She said she felt good and started to dance. By herself. A man took her in his arms and danced with her. When he asked if she wanted to leave, she said yes. He took her to a condo in Malibu. You can guess the rest.”

Roman’s hands tensed on the wheel.

Shanice looked straight ahead. “She didn’t ask his name. She said they barely talked. She couldn’t even remember what he looked like. Tall, dark hair, strong. When he went into the bathroom after they had sex, she threw on her clothes and left.” Shanice started to cry. “That’s the last time I went to After Dark. Until tonight. I didn’t want to be reminded of what a lousy friend I was that night.”

She wiped away tears. “I told Grace how sorry I was. I should’ve stayed with her. Her self-esteem was in the basement. Of course she blamed herself.” She looked out the car window. “She would’ve been safer with her hair up. Men seem to go for blondes. And that black dress.”

Roman remembered how beautiful Grace looked the night of his Laguna Beach art exhibit.

Shanice sat up straighter in the passenger seat and looked at him, eyes glittering in the dim light. “Would you like to know why Grace bleached her hair? Her husband said she’d be pretty if she were a blonde. Can you believe that? As if she isn’t already beautiful inside and out. But you know Grace. She wants to do her best at everything she does, and of course, she wanted to be a good wife. So, she gave him what he wanted. Not that it made any difference to that jerk.”

Roman winced, seeing himself as he’d been.

“She told me she has terrible judgment when it comes to men.” She gave him a wincing look.

“Including me, you mean.” His heart was pounding hard and fast. “Sounds like she’s right.” He glanced at Shanice. “Did she ever go back to After Dark and try to reconnect with the guy?”

“Are you kidding? No!”

“Just wondering. She had a relationship with someone after her divorce, didn’t she?”

“A boyfriend, you mean?” Shanice shook her head. “Not that I know about, and I’d know.” She shifted in the passenger seat, facing him. “I don’t get it, Roman. Why is it some people can get away with everything, and then along comes someone sweet like Grace, and she can’t even act out one time without paying the full price.”

Roman glanced at her. “What price?”

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