Page 4 of It Started With a Scarf

The last sentence was ear-piercing. The scream was intense, and the silence that followed was deafening. My heartbeat was thudding in my ears as I waited to hear what would happen next. But nothing happened—all I heard were footsteps and doors closing. My grandmother left our house without another word.

Chapter 1

Years later

My grandmother had connected with me during my teenage years, but only on a surface level. My mother held her on the periphery of our family.

She came to my high school graduation, and we had a nice, long talk, just Nessa and me. She spoke urgently of the Bible, saying Frank had found undeniable proof of God in his studies of the Earth, and that I needed to read the Bible every day as the key to a happy, healthy life. She said it was the thing that got her through, and she herself seemed reasonable and kind, like she was flourishing because of that information. I would end up taking what she said to heart. I would make a habit of reading at least a chapter a day.

I looked forward to becoming my own person when I moved out of my parents' house. I had plans to go to junior college in Tyler. My mother had set up the whole thing, and I went with it since she and my dad were paying for it. My grandmother told me while we were talking that if my college offered it, I should change my major and go into business management. She said she had a close friend in Chicago who owned a fancy retail store, and I was just the girl to move to the big city and work there once I got my degree.

I had taken that proposition seriously. I knew that I wanted to travel like she did and see other parts of the world. My parents wanted me to study dental assisting. My mom had already talked to our dentist in Chandler about hiring me when I finished the program. She wasn't happy when I changed my course of study, but I was stubborn about it I convinced her that I could still work at the dentist's office with a business management degree. As far as I was concerned, it was business management or bust. The end goal was now Chicago.

But it didn't work out right away.

I finished my Associate degree in two years, but I didn't move to Chicago for a few more years after that. Nessa's friend, Joan, still had her store in Chicago, but she was going through some financial challenges. She had a manager who had been with her a long time, and times were tight, so she simply couldn't hire me at the time. She offered me a room at her house for a good rate. It was a safe place with reasonable rent, but I didn't move right away.

I had a good job in Tyler, and I wound up staying there so I could save up and apply for a transfer within my company to make moving easier. I had worked for Abercrombie & Fitch while I was in JUCO, and I stayed on there even after graduation. I worked my way up to store manager, and I knew there were opportunities for me within the company in Chicago, but I waited a while to move.

Time passed.

It took me a few years to work up the courage go. Eventually, I devised a plan, set a date, and sold my car. I would take the bus until I learned the city and got my footing in Chicago. I'd rather have cash in hand than a car when starting fresh, anyway.

Joan was still having trouble with her business, so I just stayed on at Abercrombie and didn't work with her. She was happy to receive the rent every month. She kept to herself and was a quiet, hospitable host and landlord. Her kids were a bit suspicious of me, but they were grown and out of the house with kids of their own. I could understand where they were coming from since their mom had never had a young roommate move in from out of state.

I was twenty-three when I finally moved to Chicago, and I had now been there for ten months.

It was October, and the Cubs had a playoff game tonight, so they were the talk of the town. I was currently sitting at an upscale bar that wasn't all too far from the ballpark, and I could hear about three different conversations, all of which were about baseball. No one was dressed in a jersey or t-shirt here, though. They were all in trendy attire, and yet all I heard was baseball talk.

I was there for a job interview, although I wasn't sure I wanted it. The atmosphere was overwhelming, it was crowded, and I was hyper-aware of all the noises and glances. I wasn't too keen on working at this place. It was too busy and bougie for me. It was so exclusive that your name had to be on a list to get in.

One of my customers at Abercrombie, Tom, was the manager here, and he had asked me to come by. He said he wanted to bring me on part-time, promising I could make three or four hundred dollars in tips on a busy night.

And this must've been what he meant by busy night. It was packed. I squeezed into the only open seat at the bar and spoke to one of the bartenders on duty. He introduced himself as Max and asked what he could get for me. I ordered a ginger ale and told him I was there to talk to Tom.

"He told me to meet him here at eight o'clock," I said to him, leaning in so he could hear me.

"It might be a minute. I know he's taking care of something in the kitchen. I'll tell him you're here, though. What's your name?"

"Marley. And thank you. It's fine if he needs to reschedule. I didn't know how busy y'all would be."

The bartender smiled. "Y'all, huh? Where are you from?"

"Sorry. Texas. I didn't know how busy you would be tonight."

I usually kept my accent neutral, but the y'alls still flowed. They were natural to me, and they came out accidentally.

"Y'all is great," he said smiling. "I like it. And, no, I'm sure he wants to talk to you if he told you to meet him here. It might be a minute, though. Here's that ginger ale."

He set a glass in front of me. It was a short glass with the perfect amount of ice and a thin straw, and I picked it up and took a small sip before setting it down again.

"Can I get you anything else?" he asked.

"No thank you. Is it okay if I wait right here for Tom?"

"Of course. Let me know if you need anything."

"Thank you."

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