“You are such a baby. Scarlett O’Hara is not a beast. She’s just misunderstood. Don’t worry; she doesn’t get up this early.”
Lesroy was referring to a seventy-five-pound Doberman who once belonged to Stella and Ben. When he and I were together, he droned on and on about how much he wanted a real guard dog, one who would scare the shit out of intruders. His obsessive desire for canine security should have set off an alarm, but it never occurred to me he had anything needing high-level protection.
About a month before the happy couple left for Ecuador, they sealed their love with Scarlett. I assumed her name was a continuation of the Gone with the Wind theme Mom started with Stella Vivien Burnette.
Ben hadn’t done his homework before selecting the Doberman. Yes, the breed has an imposing presence, and they can be ferocious, but only if someone they love is threatened. So, when the lovebirds ran off to Ecuador, Scarlett didn’t make the cut. Like me, she got left behind.
They abandoned her on my doorstep with a note from Stella: We can’t take her with us. She’s a wonderful dog, and you’re the only one I know she’ll love.
But Scarlett O’Hara didn’t love me. She tolerated me.
“You know that monster despises me.” He reached out to hug me. We clung to each other for a few seconds before I stepped away.
“It’s not personal. She hates most men. They remind her of Ben. So, what did my mother tell you?”
He shook his head. “I’m guessing the same thing she told you. Stella was supposed to come home but never got on the plane. Aunt Marilyn thought she might have called me, but she hadn’t. We haven’t talked since Easter.”
Mom insisted Stella had changed, that she’d had what Lesroy described as a conversion last March. She said she was planning her escape and repeated the same tale to Lesroy. Both had bought the story. Then, like now, she never showed.
“I haven’t seen Aunt Marilyn this upset since Gran’s funeral.” Two years ago, our grandmother had a stroke. She lingered a few months before letting go.
Stella didn’t make it home for the service.
“I know you never stopped being pissed at her, but I have a bad feeling about this. I mean, she bought a plane ticket.”
“And I’m sure she just changed her mind and is lounging around some expensive spa enjoying some Stella-time. I told Mom I’d check it out. I found Alisha’s phone number. If she were going to confide in anyone, it would be Alisha.”
He wrinkled his nose. “God, I hate that bitch.”
Alisha and her family moved into the house next door when my sister was twelve. Alisha didn’t just like Stella; she worshiped her. She saved her a seat on the bus, lavished her with compliments, and laughed at all her jokes. Her ass-kissing didn’t stop there. She laid it on thick with me and my mother. But there was one person she did not seek to impress, and that was Lesroy.
Stella was crazy about our cousin. And he was devoted to her. After she and Alisha met, things changed. When that little snit was around, there were whispers and giggles and finger-pointing behind his back.
I should have called Stella out on the hateful behavior. But I couldn’t stand the thought of hurting her feelings. I let her hurt my cousin instead.
Although I know he noticed, he never said a word. He turned to his longtime love of Arthurian legends and transformed his childhood wonder into a series of graphic novels featuring knights without armor and damsels without distress.
His drawings were beautifully detailed, and his storylines blended medieval charm with contemporary challenges. Stella and I were the models for his two leading ladies. His renditions of us were remarkably accurate. My sister loved to watch him draw and plastered her room with his sketches.
A few weeks after she and Alisha started hanging out, the pictures disappeared and were replaced by posters of boy bands. When I asked her about them, she shrugged and said it was no big deal. Once again, I should have spoken up, but it was easier to blame Alisha than to question my sister’s character. Lesroy never commented on their absence. He continued with his artwork, but he stopped sharing it with us.
“I hate her, too. But I think it’s worth a call.”
“I’m not talking to the nasty little witch, but you’re right. You know, she visited Stella once, about a year after they ran off. Stella said it was awkward, like they’d grown apart.”
I didn’t know. “I can’t imagine her experiencing any kind of growth.”
He sighed before taking another bite of donut. “Have you ever thought she did you a favor? Never mind. Honey, you need to let it go.”
“Maybe. But not today.”
We agreed I would contact Alisha, and he would go through Stella’s letters to my mother, searching for clues into her disappearance. Then I told him Mom wanted to talk to me and asked if he would come along.
“It’s so much easier dealing with her when you’re there,” I pleaded.
He put his arm around my shoulder and pulled me into a hug. “Then I’ll be there. See you at ten.”
I locked the door behind him and leaned against it. For the first time since my mother’s phone call, I believed my sister might be in serious trouble.
“Stella Star, what have you done?”
Chapter 3
Stella Star was the name Lesroy gave her the day she came home from the hospital. As soon as we heard the car pull into the driveway, he started jumping up and down and shouting, “They’re here! They’re here!”
“For God’s sake, boy,” my father said through clenched teeth. “We just got her to stop screaming. If you wake her up, I’m going to—”
“It’s okay, Jack.” Mom sat on the sofa and settled the tiny bundle on her lap. “She’s already awake and looks pretty happy. I think she likes you all.”
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