Nicole Dennis-Benn - Here Comes the Sun

But maybe it’s too late.

Alphonso doesn’t let his hand linger on the small of her back like usual. He ignores her the rest of the evening as she slowly sips the glass of wine she poured herself.

“I haven’t yet figured out who will manage the new resort,” she hears him say to one of the gentlemen who is sitting on his right. Margot, who is sitting on his left, leans forward, nearly slamming her wine glass down on the coffee table. When the night winds down, she waits patiently as the men shake hands. They make their way to their luxury vehicles with bright faces flushed. Behind them, Alphonso is bowing his head as each man pats him on the back. “Good doing business with you.” Meanwhile, Margot folds her arms across her chest and waits on the sofa as he finishes his last conversation. She was the one who made it all possible. She was the one who got Georgio, the biggest investor, to sign the check. Presently, Alphonso is about to destroy River Bank to complete his dream.

Alphonso turns to Margot and waves her over. “Come say goodbye to Martine!”

She gets up and moves to the front door, where both men are waiting. Alphonso grandly gestures with his hands. “She’s my right-hand woman and the one I’ll put in charge of all the extracurricular activities at the new resort,” he says to the man.

The man looks at Margot. “Can I get a taste?”

“A taste of what?” Margot asks, pretending ignorance.

“The specials.”

“Martine wants to sample the goods we’ll be offering at the new property,” Alphonso says with a grin. He turns to the man. “Trust me, yuh haven’t had good sex till you try one of these girls. At the new hotel, all of them will be hired as workers there, from maids to bartenders to clerks to lifeguards to massage therapists.”

Margot knows what’s at stake, so she obliges. “I’ll give you a sample tomorrow.”

“How about tonight?”

Alphonso nods, but Margot refuses to play this game. “Will you excuse us?” she says to the man. “Alphonso and I need to talk.”

“Be my guest! I can wait all night for you.”

Once she and Alphonso are out of earshot by the palm trees, she says, “You got what you want, so what about what I want?”

“What is this in reference to?”

“The new hotel. You promised.”

He cups her face gently. “Why not focus on what you’re really good at? You’re excellent with the girls.”

She pulls her face away. “You think I want to spend the rest of my life doing this?”

Alphonso chuckles. “Oh, Margot, yuh nevah fail to amaze me. I give you an opportunity to shine and you complain.”

“I want a promotion.”

“You don’t have what it takes, Margot.”

“What does it take?” Margot doesn’t suppress the slight tremor erupting inside her. “You promised me.”

“But Margot, it doesn’t work like that. You know the criticism I get for running the hotel differently from my father. I want to build my reputation back. You know people will inquire about your training and experience. I can’t let that happen, that’s why I brought Novia on. Not only because she’s brilliant, but she brought people. She’s Jamaica’s first real ambassador.”

“An ambassador who sleep wid underage girls.”

Alphonso pauses and closes his eyes for a brief second. “I know Novia. She and my wife are best friends.”

Margot snorts at this and rolls her eyes. “That explains it.”

“She’s a good person. Her indiscretions can be forgiven.”

“Now yuh sound like a damn politician, or a priest.”

“It’s business.”

“I showed you the plans. I fed you ideas. And now yuh saying I don’t have what it takes to run a resort?”

“Margot, you are missing my point.”

“Yuh made it loud and clear. I have news for you. You hire anyone else and I’m going to the authorities about the prostitution ring. Not only that, I have pictures to give to the press of yuh beloved ambassador fucking a prostitute. A female prostitute.” She hurls this like a stone. Alphonso blinks. His mouth opens and closes before the words come out.

“You wouldn’t dare.”

“Watch me.”

“You’re a coldhearted bitch.”

“You made me that way.”

“Margot, don’t do this.”

“Don’t do what? Let people see yuh fall from glory? Let dem see how yuh drag di Wellington dynasty down di gutter? Ha! You were always the incompetent one, Alphonso. A fool who depends on the brilliance of others.”

“I never trusted you.”

“Makes two of us. You either keep yuh promise or get yuh name dirty in di press.”

“You’re a nutcase if you think it’s that easy.”

“A nutcase who yuh continue to fuck. Time to pay up. You know I’m not fah free.”

“I paid your sister’s tuition. You seem to have forgotten.”

“Still not enough.”

Alphonso steps closer to her with his fists clenched. “You are a power-hungry whore who would fuck anything, Margot. I was surprised that it wasn’t you they found with Novia in bed that morning, though I think my wife has given her better pussy.”

Margot slaps him across the face. She slaps him so hard that the sound echoes, unexpected like a gunshot. But he only stands there, a smirk on his face.

“I think you should go,” he finally says, holding his left cheek.

“You have one day to think about what I said,” Margot says.

“I won’t budge.”

“Then I’ll send it out tonight. It’s that simple.”

“All right, all right.” He holds up both hands. “I’ll announce your promotion as hotel general manager for the new hotel on Monday morning, eight o’ clock sharp. Now see yuhself out.”

Although she’s standing, Margot feels like she’s on her knees. She gathers her things and leaves in the cool darkness of the night. Martine is no longer in sight. The taste of victory is bitter on her tongue and reminds her of the day she gave her Uncle Winston the six hundred dollars that Delores received from the stranger at Falmouth Market. She handed the money to him, thinking he would leave her alone. The victory was short-lived, because Delores only got meaner, hungrier, subjecting Margot to more strangers to make up for the money she lost. Margot realized too late that when she gave Uncle Winston the money, she was giving away herself.

OUTSIDE, THE HUMID AIR HANGS LOW LIKE THE MANGOES ON the trees. It’s June, the tail end of mango season. So the little breeze, if any, carries the sweet, battered smell of rotting mangoes. The school compound is empty, since classes have begun. The sun plays on the well-manicured lawn that is surrounded by quaint two-story buildings built by the British founders of the school. The walkways are lined with manicured hedges of bright red and pink hibiscuses, all leading to the Victorian architecture of the administrative office — a place where Thandi imagines girls with pale skin wearing broad hats used to sip afternoon tea back in the day before black girls were admitted. She is finding it difficult to focus on her studies the way she should, dawdling between classes.

“Young lady, why are you not in class?”

Thandi turns around and sees Sister Benjamin, a wiry-thin nun whose pointed nose resembles a beak. She’s the school nurse. “Uhm. . ah. . I was sent to. . I feel sick,” Thandi blurts out, surprised at her ability to manufacture such a lie on the spot while staring straight into the eyes of a nun.

“Come with me,” Sister Benjamin says with authority. Thandi follows behind her into a more shaded area by the physical education building — a newer building with a gymnasium and a swimming pool — where Sister Benjamin’s office is located. Once inside the nurse’s office, Thandi sits ladylike, back straight and legs crossed at the ankles, in the cold metal chair by the desk. There are plastic molds of human anatomy on the shelves inside the office — various parts like the eyes with squiggly blue veins drawn on the cornea, the intestines that zigzag all the way to the mannequin’s bottom half, and the womb that is shaped like the horns of a ram. The air-conditioning in the office feels like opening Mr. Levy’s deep freeze, revealing the bottles of soft drinks inside. These white nuns would never survive in Jamaica without air-conditioning. Thandi imagines that they would melt like candle wax.