Lacquered Tattoo

Chapter Eleven

At first, she looked at me with huge, scared eyes, the first red flag I noticed – is she hiding something? Is that why she was nervous?

She visibly relaxed, tensed shoulders dropping low, when I tell her, “Don’t look so worried. You’re not in trouble.”

            Her fear was replaced with confusion, eyebrows knitting together. “Then…?”

            I was never one to meddle in other people’s business, but this child just pulls me towards her. Behind that blank, defensive stare, I see something familiar and undeniable.

            And I’m afraid to confirm my suspicions.

            “I was just wondering…” I started. The way I approach this could either build a solid foundation, or create a taller, much stronger wall.

            A shiny thing caught my eye, and I tilted my head to get a better look at it.

            I smiled at the shimmering, bedazzled ladybug happily swinging from her backpack.

            “Where did you get that charming little thing?”

             Bernice was surprised at first, twirling around and realizing what I was pointing at. She swung one strap of her backpack from her shoulder and twisted the keychain on her fingers.

            There it is. The first smile I’ve seen from her.

            “It was a gift,” she said curtly, though her voice held such fondness that needed no further explanation. There was also the sparkle in her eyes, which I hope to see more of, that did the telling.

Gazing at that one piece of paraphernalia brightening her otherwise monotonous backpack, I had a vision of another little girl lost in her own, private realm, reliving the memories of a moment that would never, ever be repeated in this lifetime.

I took a deep breath and reigned in my own recollections, mustering a huge smile for when Bernice looks back up at me. “Well, it’s lovely and I would really want to have one.”

Sure enough, her eyes were back to mine and though trust was still not established there, I saw comfort.

A slight chance.

A gateway of opening.

Hope.

And I am determined to hold on to it.

“I had a stag beetle before.” It’s true. Bernice’s gray eyes widen. “Thought about naming it James but then I thought of a more appropriate one since it is her Animagus.” I let that simmer.

Eventually, as I knew it in my bones that it would be so, Bernice’s face light up in recognition.

“Rita,” she whispered excitedly. It was not even a question.

All I can do was nod at her, matching her suppressed enthusiasm. Somehow, both of us had this unspoken agreement that it wouldn’t do either of us good to scream and fangirl over witches and wizards.

Then Bernice asked the question I was dreading to hear. “What happened to it?”

I swear she saw right through the sadness in my eyes that goes much deeper than I would have liked to let on. However, I am not going to lie to her.

“My aunt… disposed of it.”

Well, that’s one way to put it.

“She killed it.” Bernice said without missing a beat.

I cannot say I’m surprised. From the beginning, I could tell that there is something about this girl.

My smile was sad when I replied, “May Rita rest in peace.”

Bernice kind of warmed up to me during that short conversation and offered to help me carry my things back to the staff room. In return, I gave her a handful of gummy bears I splurged on the other day.

I’m a proud sweet tooth and I always keep a jar of gummy bears on my desk.

The two of us walked together outside where a white van started honking.

“Oh, boy,” Bernice murmured.

I raised an eyebrow at her, “You know her?”

There seems to be a woman behind the steering wheel and while I would be afraid of white vans hanging around school property, I doubt this particular one is dangerous.

Driver aside, it wasn’t just plain and white. As Bernice and I draw near, its sides became visible, and I am able to see a beautiful artwork painted on the lower part of the door. There are also some customizations made on the exterior part van aside from the paint job.

The spokes of its wheels are red; two huge rectangular black metal sorts of containers were affixed to its other side; and a long black metal pipe surrounds top of the van.

“Cassandra!”

I finally saw the woman’s face and was stunned to see Jolie. What is she doing here?

She stands in front of us before pulling me to an unexpectedly tight hug. Turning to the girl beside me, her wide smile disappeared. A scowl replaced it at Bernice’s words.

“This is a school zone, you know. You shouldn’t have beeped so loudly.”

Jolie gave her the stink eye and I covered my mouth to stop myself from laughing. Are they related? Don’t tell me Jolie is Bernice’s mom? I mean, I’m not judging or anything. Just wondering, and, well, what a small world.

“If you hadn’t taken that long to come out then I wouldn’t have to,” she turns to me. “Snobbish brat.”

“I’m right here. I can hear you,” Bernice snipped, and it was hard to keep a small giggle from escaping. “Anyway, how do you know Miss Grant?”

Jolie put her arm around me. “Miss Grant… is my protégé,” she proudly announces. “And I’m her mentor.”

That was met with a snort from Bernice. “Fancy words.” She then tilted her head at me. “Is it true, miss Grant?”

I nodded, smiling.

“Don’t you like teaching? Why would you need to have another job?” A hint of sadness was in her voice, but I doubt that Jolie noticed as she rolled her eyes and visibly sighed.

“That’s just rude, Bennie. The Miss might be needing the extra cash, you know.” Jolie grimaced as the awkwardness grew. “Besides, what’s wrong with working as a saleslady? It’s a decent job with a decent pay. Not to mention a hot boss who’d definitely make anyone want to stay,” she wiggled her eyebrows up and on at me when she said that, and I couldn’t help but laugh.

Not that it wasn’t true, but I was just too impressed at Jolie for turning the uncomfortable moment into the exact opposite.

Bernice looked guilty. “I’m not trying to look down on your job. I was just wondering why Miss Grant would…”

It’s my turn to step up. “No worries. It’s normal to be curious. I just have a lot of free time that I don’t want to be wasted so I searched for a side hustle. It wouldn’t hurt to earn a little bit more, would I?” I gave her a wink that made the corners of her lips to lift up.

“Well, how about we all get inside now? My butt’s about to freeze to death.”

That made both Bernice and I snicker.

Then I realized she said, we all.

I shifted from one foot to the other. “Actually,” I called out as Jolie slides the door of the van. When I saw the inside, my next words were completely forgotten.

As if in a daze, I could only stare in awe at the sleek interior.

Everything was clean and organized. There were minimal decorations, and the palette was a simple: mostly two-toned black and white, with touches of fray and red here and there. It was like I stepped into a high-end condominium, only the size is much, much smaller than usual.

There was a counter and stove, with cubbies above them with matching dark wood, a fridge and a closet on the other side. At the back was an elevated bed which makes up the resting back of a small U-shaped couch that fits in snuggly on the sides of the counter and the closet.

A small rectangular box-shaped room was situated at the back of the driver’s seat, which I could only assume to be the toilet if the frosted glass door was any sign.

It’s cozy and homey despite the lack of character. I love it.

It didn’t occur to me that Jolie had close the sliding door. I only came back to my senses when she revved the engine followed by a warning to have a seat and buckle up.

The confusion must have been evident in my face as Bernice led me to the couch. “There aren’t really seatbelts, only the front seats have them, but don’t worry, Miss Grant. It’s perfectly safe in here.”

Owe it to a child to comfort my nervous ass.

“Seventh Street, right, Cass?” Jolie shouted, alarmingly turning her head back at us for a few seconds instead of watching the street.

“Yes, thank you,” I immediately replied, hoping she’ll turn her attention back on the road. She thankfully did.

“Do you live here?” I had to ask before we reached my home. I also want to know Bernice and Jolie’s relationship with each other.

Bernice shook her head. “This belongs to my uncle. Jolie often borrows it without permission.”

“Hey! This time, he said yes.” Jolie has her eyes in front of her, so I shoved my worries aside. “It’s not like he’s using it anyway. Poor baby,” she intimately says, caressing the console on the middle.

I swallowed my shyness and asked before I think twice about it. “And… You two are…?”

“Aunt and niece.”

“Biological, unfortunately.”

“It’s a shame, really.”

“Couldn’t agree more.”

Jolie and Bernice deadpanned respectively. Both sounded as if they’d already been asked a million times and dreaded having to answer.

Truth be told, I am actually loving their dynamic.

Nobody would ever brave enough to tell them, and neither would I, but they do share some similarities that are difficult to ignore. One of those is their attitude. The others being the shape of their face, their nose, and the color of their eyes.

I bet they share the same hair color, too, if only Jolie had her natural shade instead of the cute hot and bubblegum pink ombre she’s sporting.

Not that I minded; I like it. Only a few people can rock that color.

“Just over –”

Jolie parked at the side of the building after slowing down even before I finished my sentence telling her that this is my place.

I opened my mouth to ask her when I remembered what Monroe had told me the other day, that Jolie have figured out that we live in the same building.

“How was living with your boss and landlord?” she asks.

What a sudden question coming out of the blue it took me a few seconds to reply.

I haven’t seen my landlord and I’m not sure if he lives in the same building. I learned from the case worker who helped me find a place to live that he owns multiple complexes and businesses around the area so I. just assumed that he must be some businessman who could afford to live in his own house or even in one of his fancier buildings rather than this old one.

“Monroe and I haven’t crossed paths since, and I haven’t actually met my landlord yet so I couldn’t tell you much about them,” I shrugged reaching for my huge tote bag and bookbag.

The life of a teacher.

Jolie snickers. “Oh, sweet girl. I wasn’t talking about two separate individuals”

I caught her eyes on the rearview mirror which carry a hint of teasing. She was waiting for me to catch on and when it dawned on me. I couldn’t stop the blush from heating up my cheeks.

“Oh,” I mumbled, feeling a little blindsided. What a coincidence.

With a big grin, Jolie nodded her head slowly. “Yep.”

“What is it?” Bernice asked, wanting to be let in on the conversation. She looked from Jolie to me, ten back at her aunt.

“Monroe owns the complex.” It wasn’t a question, but Jolie nodded in affirmation.