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“She told me she’d had a big fight with her boyfriend and that he’d dumped her on the freeway and driven off before she could grab her purse. And that she’d walked all the way here in the over one-hundred-degree heat. She looked very flushed—rather disheveled—and sounded parched. She asked if she could come in and rest a bit. At least get some water. Then, she started crying.”
It sounded a lot like Tanya, who could turn on the waterworks as well as the charm with the blink of an eye. “She didn’t by chance have an English accent?” I asked.
Mary shook her head. “Not that I recall.”
I twisted my lips. More reason to believe Tanya wasn’t from Britain, but I still needed concrete evidence.
Pushing her half-moon glasses up her nose, Mary continued.
“Well, I’m a sucker for tears, and I couldn’t let the poor, devastated girl melt in the terrible heat, so I unlocked my door and let her in. She was beyond grateful. I told her to sit on the living room couch while I went to the kitchen to get her some water and a plate full of chocolate chip cookies I’d just baked. She devoured them like she’d not eaten or drunk anything in a month, and afterward, I offered her my phone so she could call someone to pick her up. She stood and moved to the other side of the room while I remained seated and watched her punch some numbers. Then listened to her conversation with someone that appeared to be her mother. She didn’t have the phone on speaker, so I couldn’t hear the voice on the other end. Finishing the call, she returned to the couch.
“She told me she had bad news. That her parents couldn’t pick her up until the next day. She said they lived all the way up by Fresno. Both were doctors and had patients to see. Then, I asked her what she was doing in this neck of the woods. She said she and her boyfriend went camping in Joshua Tree and were on their way back home. And then she began to pour on the tears again, telling me how she had no money or place to stay.”
“What was her name?” I asked while Mary paused to take a sip of lemonade.
“Tabitha. She never gave me her last name.”
“Did she have any distinguishing features?”
Mary scrunched her face, then nodded. “She had this cute little gap between her front teeth… and a dimple in her chin.”
Tanya!
“My heart went out to her. I told her she could stay overnight with me. How could I not? I had a spare bedroom and she seemed innocent enough.”
“Then what?” I asked, Mary’s story getting better with every word.
“Well, to make a long story short, she was the perfect houseguest. Courteous and grateful. So appreciative of the fried chicken dinner I made and her lovely air-conditioned bedroom. She even gave me a hug. After a good night’s sleep, I woke up, as usual, at the crack of dawn. And she was gone. And so was my computer bag with my laptop…plus the three hundred dollars I kept in my cookie jar.”
Three hundred dollars. Enough to buy a one-way bus ticket to LA. And a piece of luggage and backpack. Plus some jeans, sneakers, and a hoodie at the outlet mall or Walmart we’d passed on our way down here, though I wouldn’t be surprised if she had shoplifted everything. I thought about showing her photos of Tanya, but it would only raise questions. There was no doubt in my mind that Tabitha and Tanya were one and the same. Will gave me a sideways glance, confirming my hunch.
“Oh my God, that’s awful!” I said.
“Oh, and she stole my cell phone too. An iPhone, but thank goodness I took out insurance when I bought it. In case it ever went missing.”
Dang! I wish I could also have confiscated Tanya’s phone. That would have really driven her nuts since it was her lifeline. And God only knows all the dirt we’d find on it.
Mary heaved a breath. “I only have myself to blame. My late husband, George, always told me I was too darn trusting.”
“It’s not your fault,” I consoled. “My mom would have done the same thing.”
She smiled. “You kids must come from a good family.”
Chugging the rest of my lemonade, I thought about her words. Was ours a “good” family? My mother was a borderline alcoholic and had had a nervous breakdown; my father was a bona fide prick who was full of himself and obsessed with making money. Will and I had good values and a great relationship, but our bare-bones relationship with our self-centered parents was nothing to be proud of.
Dysfunctional. That’s what we were.
I set the glass down on the table and told her we did. If only she knew.
“My husband, may he rest in peace, always said good things happen to good people. And that’s why I believe the two of you came into my life and I got my computer back. He also believed what goes around, comes around.” Her face darkened. “That lying little shrew will get her due. I’m sure of it!”
I nodded. “She will.” I could already imagine a handful of payback punishments. Hundreds, if I thought harder. Like she’d grow gnarly fungus between her perfectly manicured toes. Develop some repulsive flesh-eating disease and lose all her hair. Contract an STD. That ugly scar above her eyebrow was just the beginning.
Putting aside my deliciously evil ruminations, I glanced at the wall clock. It was already two o’clock. “We’d better get going,” I said. “The Sunday afternoon traffic can get nasty.”
Mary looked disappointed. “It’s been such a delight having the two of you here. I wish I could give you both a reward, but I’m tight on money.”
“No worries. You’ve actually given us so much. Thank you for the lemonade.” And all the dirt on Tanya.
