Her Russian Millionaire

Chapter 3

The two girls had next to nothing when they unpacked their new room. Marie took pity on them and bought them new flannel sheets, fluffy blankets and pillows, silk curtains, and some posters for Nikita. Everything was top quality and luxurious because Marie didn’t believe in buying things that were poorly made. She insisted that they would just fall apart.

Though it was extravagant, the girls had a lot of fun decorating. Their room was small, probably a renovated office, but it had a window and just enough space for the two of them. The queen-sized bed fit the two comfortably, and Jalisa assembled a simple dresser for their clothes. Nikita hung up posters of softball stars and other people who inspired her. Their father’s Bible rested on the nightstand, and Jalisa gave it a soft stroke every night. Jalisa tried to keep a mental checklist of how much she owed Marie for the bedroom things but stopped after six hundred.

Even worse was the clothes. Every article of clothing Marie purchased the two was at least fifty dollars. Jalisa worried each time they entered a store that Marie would make the girls feel bad about spending her money, but Marie never did. She sat outside the dressing room and clapped every time Nikita came out to spin around. She even went to a salon with the girls to get their hair done. Marie ended up with a hundred dollar haircut that just barely looked different, and Nikita got a thick strip of her hair dyed teal before being styled into an up do. Jalisa was very happy with her twists and color, so she just sat in the waiting room and watched the girls.

After a couple of days had passed, the guilt from spending so much of a stranger’s money had passed. Marie never brought it up or implied that she was waiting for Jalisa to pay her back. The woman just honestly enjoyed shopping more than anything. She regularly joked about how she herself was a stimulus to the local economy. The tip jar on the bar even said ‘New Shoes.’ Jalisa saw how much went into the tip jar and wondered how she had so much money to throw around but didn’t ask. It wasn’t her business.

Extremely proud of her first few days of work, Jalisa had made around eighty dollars in tips. It wasn’t much, but it was enough to buy a couple taxi rides around town. Nikita printed off a map of all the local churches, and the two girls rode over to them before Jalisa started her shift at the bar. During the taxi ride, Jalisa discovered something she wished didn’t exist: a crush on Stone.

 “Stone’s kind of cute, huh?” Nikita watched the city pass out of the window.

 “No. He is not.” Jalisa’s eyebrows knitted together and she stared at the back of her sister’s head in shock. Eventually, Nikita turned around.

“He is. He’s got lots of muscles.” Nikita got a dreamy look in her eye.

 “Did he try to do anything to you?” Jalisa didn’t know much about Stone and his quality of character, so she had to make sure.

 “No, but…” Nikita tried to hide her smile with her hands. “I think it would be nice to hold hands. Maybe when I grow up, he could kiss me.”

“Nikita, you will find someone your own age. Stone is in his twenties; he has no business being with a little girl.” Jalisa shook her head.

Nikita pouted. Jalisa remembered being that age and still having so much to learn about the world. Her first crush was on a much older man, too. It was the teenage grandson of two elderly people from their church. He was nineteen while Jalisa was only thirteen. When he stayed with his grandparents for the summer, Jalisa fawned over him. She baked him brownies and flirted with him. She cut out pictures of wedding dresses from magazines and even told her father that they were getting married. She understood the appeal of older men, and also the danger.

“You get to have crushes.” Nikita stuck out her bottom lip.

“I’m an adult. If a man has a crush on me back, he’s not a pedophile.” Jalisa explained the difference.

“I’m practically a woman,” Nikita kept on. “You just like Stone for yourself.”

“Nikita,” Jalisa said firmly as the cab stopped in front of the first church. “Watch it. You’re not being kind.”

“You’re not Dad!” Nikita threw open the cab door and ran away into the church. Jalisa threw some bills at the driver and went after Nikita.

It wasn’t about Stone. Nikita was a girl who had just lost her father. There was no way of telling how her teenage emotions would react. In most ways, she was still a child. A child who was thrown into the cold and unforgiving world of reality too soon. Jalisa knew that this would not be the last time she lashed out.

Jalisa looked over the congregation space. It was massive, with pews made of rich mahogany and velvet. A worker dressed in a suit made adjustments to a sign near the back. Posters with an even grander church saying ‘Help us reach our goal!’ were posted near the donation and tithe cans. Jalisa immediately knew that it was not the church for them. Churches based on money were not of the Lord.

“Come on, Nikita.” Jalisa walked through the empty aisles to where Jalisa was pouting. “This is not for us.”

“Why do you always get to decide what is right for us?” Nikita balled up her fists. “Maybe I like it here.”

“I don’t decide; the Bible does. Nikita, look around. Churches shouldn’t have this much money. These seats cost thousands of dollars that could have gone to feed the hungry. Real disciples would sit on the dirt to hear the message of the Lord.” Jalisa sat down on the cushy pew and Nikita slid down the bench, crossing her arms over her chest.

“Maybe they mostly have old people who worship here. The elderly in our old church have padded seats.” Nikita defended the church and Jalisa sighed.

“Do you have the list? Maybe somewhere in a poorer part of town will focus on good deeds. Money corrupts.” Jalisa noticed Nikita was close to crying. “Do you disagree?”

“Does it matter?” Nikita huffed. “Mom.”

“You’re being needlessly cruel.” Jalisa focused on her faith so she wouldn’t snap back. “You need to pray for forgiveness.”

“I think I should decide what I do!” Nikita held her hands to her face and rubbed at the tears that were silently falling. Jalisa could see the fear in her sister’s shaking form. She pulled her in for a hug, and while Nikita resisted at first, eventually she hugged her older sister back.

“I’m so sorry.” Nikita sobbed. “I miss Dad so much it hurts. I can feel it in my chest and in my stomach.”

“Then you are alive.” Jalisa rubbed soothing circles into her sister’s back. “We will see Dad again. He is in heaven watching over us. Let’s do our best to make him proud.”

“Marie told me where Erik used to go to church.” Nikita sniffled. “Apparently, they also run a thrift store and a food bank.”