CHAPTER

Sixty-five

Thirty days.

Thirty little days—that's all Tony would have to wait, and after those thirty days his two hundred Gs would multiply into half a million!

It was a sure thing, Karma's father, Mr. Jackson, had told him. The foreign currency market was usually a gamble, but this was a sure bet.

Tony didn't know anything about trading foreign currency, but he didn't need to. Karma's father was an expert, had made half of his fortune on the foreign currency market and had made the other half on the foreign currency black market!

Tony was on top of the world, and the pièce de résistance was just two days away. His wedding.

“It's almost one o'clock,” Mildred called from the living room. “If we don't leave now, we're going to be late.”

“Okay, babe,” Tony called back to her as he quickly dabbed some cologne onto his neck.

They were going to pick up Errol and Tony's mother from the airport. Mildred had been sick to her stomach all day. She really hadn't wanted to involve anyone else in this mess, but what was she going to tell Tony, “Don't invite your mother and best friend”?

His sister wasn't going to be able to make it, and that was just fine with Mildred. One less person she had to look in the eye and lie to.

At the airport, Mildred sat on a bench, sipping a ginger beer, while Tony paced the tiled floor of the Arrivals section.

It was obvious that he was bursting with excitement, and when he finally spotted his mother and Errol coming through the door, he bolted toward them. For a minute, Mildred thought he was going to leap into Errol's arms, but at the last moment he stopped short and threw his arms around him in a manly embrace.

He gave his mother a stiff hug and an awkward peck on the cheek before pulling her straw bag from her hands and starting off toward Mildred.

Mildred stood, smoothed her light blue linen skirt, and fixed her face with a bright smile.

Tony was babbling a mile a minute as he pointed proudly at Mildred. Mrs. Landry's face broke out into an approving smile, while Errol's expression was a mixture of bewilderment and . . . recognition?

“Mom, Errol,” Tony said, wrapping his arm around Mildred's shoulder, “this is Karma Jackson.”

Mrs. Landry's smile broadened as she shoved Tony aside and threw her beefy arms around Karma and squeezed. “Oh, child, so nice to finally meet you,” she said, and then stepped back. “What a beautiful woman you are.” She was beaming.

“Thank you,” Mildred said.

Errol stepped forward and presented his hand. “I concur,” he said as he eyed Mildred closely, “but why do I have the feeling we've met before?”

Mildred dropped her eyes. “I-I don't know. I guess I just have one of those faces.”

“Yeah, I felt that way too,” Tony said as he started toward the parked car.

They stopped in at the Blue Monkey to get a late lunch. Mildred had been quiet most of the trip from the airport. She and Tony's mother sat in the backseat, while Errol and Tony sat up front. Every now and again, Errol would turn around and gaze at her in a way that made Mildred uncomfortable. She was sure he knew and would blow the whistle on her at any second.

Now they sat across from one another, each of them devouring a Chicken Roti.

“So when is my grandbaby due?” Ethel Landry said as she gave Mildred's tummy an affectionate pat.

“Oh, not until February,” Mildred lied.

“Do you want a boy or a girl?”

“Doesn't matter—just as long as I have a healthy baby,” Mildred said, staring down at her plate.

“Well, if it's a boy, you'll have to name him Anthony Junior, of course!”

“Now, Mom, we'll name him whatever we decide to name him,” Tony intervened as he reached across the table and took Mildred's hand in his.

Ethel smirked and called for another beer.

“You're not staying here?” Mrs. Landry yawned on the living room couch after Mildred bent over and kissed her lightly on the cheek.

“No, I'm going to stay with my girlfriend until the wedding day.”

“Oh, no—are we putting you out?”

“No, no, of course not.” Mildred patted the woman's hand. “I'll see you on Saturday, okay?”

“Of course, dear.”

Errol was seated at the dining room table, flipping through the Nation newspaper. He looked up as Mildred rushed past him. “Hey, don't I get a goodbye?” he asked in an amused tone.

Mildred stalled, then turned and smiled. “Of course. I'm sorry, just real tired,” she said, and then bent down and kissed him lightly on the cheek. “See you Saturday.”

“Yeah, Saturday,” Errol said as he watched her walk out to the car. “Something's just not right,” Errol mumbled to himself.

“What was that, Errol?” Mrs. Landry called from the couch.

“Nothing.”