one who found it?
And what does this mean for our newly formed truce? Was I wrong to believe she wouldn’t steal my money, too?
A rapping on the door frame saves me from my thoughts, and the table from Martina’s overeager scrubbing.
The man standing in the doorway is a stranger, and yet I know exactly who he is. Same runner’s build as the Reverend, same hazel eyes that seem to be smiling even when he’s not, same clipped beard, though his is a rusty brown instead of white. He is dressed like his father, too, in jeans and a pressed shirt, but his clothes are more modern, more youthful, cut in a way that make me think they might be designer. He even has his father’s haircut, clipped closely on the sides with a longer hank on top, swept off his forehead with an identical cowlick.
“What do you want?” Martina says, emphasis on the you. She stands like a statue in the middle of the carpet, the spray bottle and rag hanging from a hand.
“Hi,” I say, smiling to soften her snub.
He takes it as an invitation, moving farther into the room, his cologne mixing with the other smells: bleach, lemon polish and spicy sandalwood. He extends a hand in my direction. “Erwin Jackson Andrews IV, otherwise known around this place as Erwin Four. The esteemed Reverend’s firstborn and only son and last living carrier of the family name. The pressure is enormous.”
I laugh and shake his hand. “Beth Murphy, and this is—”
“Martina and I have met, many times. Haven’t we, Martina?” He gives her a good-natured smile she doesn’t return. She doesn’t answer, either. He turns to me with a shrug. “Have you s—”
“Your dad’s not here,” Martina says.
He looks at her, goading. “What if I was about to say Oscar?”
“Oscar’s in Florida,” I offer, at the same time Martina asks, “Were you?”
Erwin aims his smile at me, then Martina. No, he was not. It’s a lighthearted teasing, but Martina isn’t having it.
She gives him her back, attacking the console on the far wall. “I don’t know where the Reverend is. Last I saw him, he was onstage in the church, but that was a half hour ago. He could be anywhere by now.” On the other side of her body, the television flickers a Cialis commercial, an older couple holding hands before a setting sun.
Erwin drops his hands in his jeans pockets, and a platinum watchband gleams on his wrist. “If you see him, tell him I fixed his email issue. The last update messed up the syncing between his computer and his phone, but it’s working now. I run the IT in this place.” That last sentence he delivers to me, though I can’t decide whether it’s meant to inform or impress.
His gaze bounces between us, waiting for one of us to respond. He doesn’t seem eager to leave.
I don’t know what to say to this guy, the son of a holy man. The clothes, the watch, the impish half grin on his face. The result is anything but holy. The silence stretches, long and uncomfortable. Martina ignores us both.
“Okay, well...” Erwin takes the hint, backing out of the room. “Nice to meet you, Beth. Martina, you have a nice day. See y’all around.” And with that, he saunters back into the hall.
“What is wrong with you?” I say as soon as we’re alone. “Why were you being so rude to him?”
“Because Erwin Four is a creep, that’s why.” She sprays down the television screen with Windex, and I don’t tell her she shouldn’t. Something about how the chemicals eat away at the delicate film and distort the pixels. You told me so, right before you backhanded me in the temple for doing it to yours.
“He’s your boss’s son. It wouldn’t hurt you to be nice.”
She exchanges the Windex for a fresh rag, begins wiping down the screen. “I tried that once. It didn’t work out that great. If you know what’s good for you, you’ll stay far, far away from him. I mean it, Beth. He’s bad news.”
Whatever she says next fades into a pounding in my head, blood rushing in my ears because a national news alert is flashing across the television on the other side of her body. A face fills the screen, and dread, like warm bile, bubbles up my throat. I step to the side, bobbing my head to see around Martina’s feverish scrubbing. A banner crawls across the bottom, white text shining