Turning left at the top of the staircase, he headed toward the open door of his mother’s study. The soft sounds of jazz wafting from within gave away her probable presence there, and when he rapped softly on the door and peeked into the room, he confirmed his guess.
There she is.
Inside the small room, decorated in shades of melon, peach and pink, Addison Woodson reclined on her favorite embroidered chaise. She wore her favorite pink satin robe and a matching marabou slipper on her uninjured foot. Most of her body from chest down was adorned in one of her old, but clean, colorful afghans; her short gray curls were similarly wrapped in a blue silk scarf. A fragrant mug of jasmine tea on the table and a magazine in hand, she looked up at his entrance. “Blaine. I assume you got my message from Gage?”
He nodded. “Yes, Mama. And I had no desire to be plucked like a chicken.”
She smiled. “Then you made the right decision in coming to visit me.” She gestured to the armchair to the left of her. “Come here, honey, and sit with your mother for a little while.”
He did as she asked, taking a seat in the plush chair. The soft cushion immediately sank beneath his weight, enveloping him. “How are you feeling, Mama? You’re looking much better.”
“Thank you, son.” She yawned. “Now, once I get this ugly boot thing off my foot, I can go back to wearing the fashionable footwear I’m used to.” She gestured down at her feet. “This one-shoe look is not hot.”
“How long will you have to wear it?”
“Another month or so, depending on how well it heals.” She sighed. “I miss going to the gym, running. Not to mention being able to dress up and put on a pair of nice pumps and go dancing with your father.”
He noticed that a few of the bandages on her face were gone, and the remaining cuts and bruises were on their way to healing up. “I know it’s hard, Mama. But try to be patient.”
She set her magazine aside. “I am being patient. But a girl’s got things to do.”
“Like what? What’s so pressing that Dad or one of us can’t take care of it for you?” Blaine gave his mother a pointed look. “Now isn’t the time to be overtaxing yourself.”
“Fair enough, Blaine. I promise to rest...if you promise to answer one question for me.”
One thing I know about Mama—she’s unpredictable. He leaned back in the chair, bracing for whatever she might throw his way. “Sure. What do you want to ask me?”
“When were you going to tell me that Eden is back in the picture and that y’all are seeing each other again?”
His mouth fell open, and he blinked several times. “What? Who told you that?”
She pursed her lips. “I’m not about to reveal my sources. Anyway, who told me is beside the point. Why didn’t you let me know she was back in your life again?”
He sighed. “Mama. It’s not like that. She’s a songwriter, and I asked her to work with me on a debut album for a new artist. That’s it.”
She folded her arms over her chest and gave him that knowing look only Black mothers gave their children. “Boy, do you think I just fell off the turnip truck? I know good and well that if she’s been in your space, you’ve been in her face.”
He closed his eyes, shaking his head. She knows me so well she can rhyme about me like Dr. Seuss. “Yikes, Mama. You gotta step on my throat like that?”
“Right now, I’m only stepping on your throat metaphorically, on account of this bad foot.” She pointed at her boot. “But if you don’t come clean, so help me, I’m gonna give you a swift kick with my good foot.”
He blew out a breath. “I guess I’m busted.”
“Very much so.”
“Okay, Mama.” He knew better than to keep denying her the information she sought. “I really did ask her to work with me on the album, and she’s done a fantastic job with the lyrics. She’s really captured Naiya B.’s essence as a singer and infused it into the music. It’s amazing to see.”
Addison rolled her eyes dramatically. “Yeah, yeah. I know Eden can run circles around a lot of these folks out here writing songs. That’s not what I asked you about though, is it?”
Seeing that his mother planned on giving him no quarter, he said, “Fine, Mama. Yes, I’ll admit it. The chemistry we had between us is still very much alive.”
“Mmm-hmm.”
“Come on, Mama. How much detail do you expect me to go into here? This is getting embarrassing.” If he said much more, he feared she might wash his mouth out with soap. No way would he be filling his mother in on the impure thoughts—and actions to match—that he’d had pertaining to Eden.
Her expression changed for a moment, into sort of a half frown. “You know what... I’m fine with that. Let’s just say you’re in love with her and leave it at that. Spare me the gory details.”
He frowned. “Who said anything about being in love with her? All I said is we had chemistry.”
She snorted a laugh. “Boy, you are hilarious. You can tell me you don’t love her till you’re blue in the face. Put it on a billboard. Have it written in the sky if you want. But it ain’t gonna change reality.”
Blaine dropped his face into his hands. He couldn’t think of anything scarier than one of his mother’s “declarations.” She’d made plenty of them in his day, and he couldn’t recall even once when she’d been wrong. Family lore had it that all the women on his mother’s side were soothsayers. His great-grandmother, his grandmother and now his mother. Nia and Teagan seemed similarly gifted—if one could call it a gift—and he assumed that should he father a daughter, she’d continue the family tradition.
“Don’t get quiet on me now, son.”
“What can I say? We all know about your predictions, Mama.”
“It’s very mature of you not to fight it.” She took a long sip from her mug of tea. “Very mature.”
He sighed, rubbing a hand over his temple. Yes, he was attracted to Eden. And yes, making love with her felt like a taste of heaven. But...love? What he’d felt for her all those years ago had certainly been love. He’d assumed the passage of time had effectively ended his feelings. Perhaps he’d been wrong. He couldn’t imagine that being a good thing.
Emotions only served as distractions, or weaknesses to be taken advantage of. If he let his heart get involved, he knew for certain his feelings would be used against him.
And he simply couldn’t let that happen.
Not now, not ever.
Fourteen
“Aunt Eden, did you hear me?”
“Huh?” Eden snapped back to reality at the sound of Cooper’s voice insistently calling her name. “Sorry, honey, I wasn’t paying attention. What did you say?”
He shook his head. “Auntie, do you need some coffee? You look kinda sleepy.”
Stifling a yawn, she nodded. “Yes, sweetie. I could use some coffee.” She had a serious case of the Mondays. She’d spent a good portion of the night tossing and turning instead of sleeping. And the few times she had drifted off, her dreams were filled with visions of Blaine, doing all kinds of naughty things to her. Now, even though she wasn’t going into the studio until later, she was sitting in the lobby of her nephew’s physical therapist, waiting for his name to be called. Ainsley couldn’t get the day off, so despite her drowsiness, she’d driven him here. After his appointment, she’d deliver him to school, as any aunt worth her salt would.
“You know they have coffee over there.” Cooper raised his small hand and pointed to an out-of-the-way alcove across the lobby.
Her eyes widened as she climbed to her feet. She’d been so focused on getting him here early, she hadn’t even noticed the coffee station. “Bless you, Cooper.” A few minutes later, she returned with a steaming cup of Colombian roast, doctored with her preferred amount of cream and sugar. Sliding back into her seat, she took the first long sip and groaned in delight. “Listen, I’m taking y
ou for ice cream this weekend.”
A broad grin spread across his face, and he started doing the Milly Rock right there in his seat. “Thanks, Auntie.”
She winked, going back for another sip of coffee. The warm liquid trickled down her throat like velvet. She felt energized as the coffee slowly began to take effect. Sweet, sweet caffeine.
After another few minutes of her guzzling coffee and Cooper playing some kind of puzzle game on his phone, the nurse called his name. Grabbing her purse, Eden stood and extended her hand to Cooper.
“Ah, come on, Auntie. I’m too big for that now.” He glanced around the lobby as if he were looking for someone.
“What, are you afraid one of your little friends is gonna just appear here and see you holding my hand?” She chuckled. “You’re still not one hundred percent stable on your feet yet, Champ. Once you’re steady, I’ll let go, okay?”
He gave her a sheepish look. “Okay.” He took her offered hand, and she helped him to his feet. His first few steps were a bit wobbly, as had been the case ever since his injury. But after ten or so, he seemed all right on his own, so she released his hand.
The nurse led them down the hallway to the gymnasium, where Dr. Lexi Madison, his therapist, waited. A petite black woman with an Afro, she wore her signature royal-blue scrubs embroidered with her name and the alphabet soup of all her various degrees.
“Morning, Cooper. How are you?” She walked over and extended her fist.
Cooper smiled and bumped fists with her. “I’m fine, Dr. M.”
“Ready to get started on your exercises?”
He nodded. “Yeah. I’ve been practicing at home with Mom and Aunt Eden, too.”
“Awesome.” Lexi caught his arm and began leading him toward the obstacle course she’d set up for him.
Eden took her seat in one of the plush chairs bordering the space, where family members waited for the patients to complete their appointments. Phone in hand, she was scrolling through social media when she got a text from Blaine.
GM. Where are you?
She dashed off a quick reply. I’m at the PT with my nephew, remember?
I forgot. My bad. What time are you coming to the studio?
She rolled her eyes. I told him all this Friday, but I guess he wasn’t paying attention. He’s awfully good at pretending to listen. Around 11, after I take him to school.
I really want to see you.
She sighed. What did he mean by that? I’m not about to ask him. You will. In a few hours.
He responded with a “heart eyes” emoji, and she sucked her lip. This man is gonna be the death of me. Things between them had become so much like they’d been back in the day, and she found it both exhilarating and terrifying. Yes, she loved the way he made her body feel—the stolen kisses, the shared looks, the lovemaking. But her memory of what they’d shared back then would always be tainted by the reality of his betrayal, a reality he had yet to fully acknowledge.
Another text came in. Hey, what are you wearing? ;)
Wait and see, crazy. She tucked her phone away, determined not to answer any more of his cheeky texts. Instead, she focused on watching her nephew work through the tasks Dr. Madison had set out for him. He climbed up and down stairs, wove his way between cones and hula hoops, and rode the stationary bike. He’d healed well from the surgery and made it just in time for the last day of baseball tryouts. Now that he’d made the team, he worked even harder at his therapy exercises. It made her happy to see him so excited about playing baseball, and the way that excitement seemed to fuel his progress. Pretty soon, he should be ready for prime time.
At the end of the hour, Dr. Madison walked Cooper over to the chair where Eden sat. “He did very well today, Ms. Voss. I’m really pleased with his progress.”
“Great.” She brushed a fallen lock of hair away from her eyes. “Do you think he’ll be ready to start training with the team in November?”
She nodded. “I don’t see any reason he couldn’t. As long as he continues to do his exercises and is careful not to reinjure that lower leg, he should be just fine.”
“Yes!” That news had Cooper dancing again.
Eden laughed at her nephew’s exuberance. “Thanks, Dr. M.”
“No problem.” She fist-bumped Cooper again. “See you next week, buddy.”
After they left the office and she’d delivered her nephew safely to school, she headed back toward the studio. The benefits of two cups of coffee were flowing through her veins, and she finally felt awake. Still, she didn’t know what to expect when she walked into the studio. She’d seen her share of famous folks coming and going, so she tried to make sure she looked presentable at all times. At least that’s what she told herself, because she didn’t want to accept that she might be spending so much extra time on her appearance because of Blaine.
She swung by the restroom just inside Against the Grain’s building. There, she adjusted her navy slacks and the dolman sleeves of her white blouse, then checked her reflection in the mirror. Smoothing her hair behind her ears and adjusting her headband, she walked out of the bathroom...
And nearly crashed into Cambria.
* * *
Blaine trailed behind Cambria by a few steps as they left his office. He saw Eden headed in their direction, though she appeared to be looking at something on her phone as she walked.
A moment later, her head jerked up. “Oh!” She sidestepped at the last possible second, narrowly avoiding the collision. “Cambria?”
Blaine watched as the two women stood there, assessing each other.
Cambria bounced on the balls of her feet. A caramel-skinned beauty, she was tall, lean and leggy. Her long jet-black hair hung down her back, and her wide-legged denim jumper looked both comfortable and fashionable. “Eden?” It was more a squeal than a greeting. “I haven’t seen you in ages!” She pulled her in for a hug.
“It’s good to see you, Cambria.” Eden returned the hug. “When did you get into town?”
“Like an hour ago. I promised Blaine I would come by the studio the next time I made it to town.”
As the two friends stepped apart again, Eden’s gaze drifted to meet his, and she narrowed her eyes just enough for him to see.
He frowned. What’s that about?
“What?” Cambria tilted her head, her expression conveying confusion. Obviously, she’d noticed it, too.
“Nothing, nothing.” She linked arms with Cambria, leading her away. “What brings you to town?” He watched their retreating backs as they headed back toward the studio, chatting and giggling. He stood there a moment, trying to parse out what was going on. Eden seemed happy to see her friend, if a bit surprised. So why did she cut her eyes at me like that? He leaned against the wall, and as if on cue, Eden glanced back his way, a sour look on her face.
She did it again! Now I’m really confused. This was the thing about women that he didn’t like. Their ever-changing emotions perplexed him. It seemed he often got into trouble with them but had no idea what he’d done wrong.
Not wanting to be on the receiving end of any more attitude from Eden, he shook his head and retreated back into the quiet of his office. There, he sat down at his desk, started up a Ludacris playlist on his phone and navigated to his email. He clicked through while bopping his head to the music, clearing out the clutter of unread messages and replying to those that required his attention. I gotta stop letting my inbox get so out of hand.
The music stopped, replaced by the sound of his ringtone. Swiping over the image of Marvin’s business card on the screen, he answered the call. “Hi, Marvin. What’s up?”
“Hey, Blaine. You doing all right? How’s life in the Dirty South?”
He chuckled, as he always did whenever Marvin tried to sound hip. “It’s all good, can’t complain. But I’ll be even better once you tell me what you thought of Naiya’
s album. It’s amazing work, right?”
Marvin cleared his throat, remaining silent.
Blaine waited, leaning back in his chair and looking up at the ceiling. He’s hesitating...it’s making me nervous. But he didn’t dare reveal that to his higher-up.
Marvin broke his silence. “This album is... Well, we know you worked super hard on it, with Naiya and Eden and the producers. And we absolutely think that ‘The Way It Was,’ ‘Kisses at Dawn’ and ‘Look My Way’ are absolutely fantastic tracks. Especially ‘Look My Way.’ How did you nail down Antoine 11 for that guest verse? He’s pretty elusive these days.”
Apparently, he’s leading with the positive, so I’ll just go with it for now. “Oh, a friend of mine knows one of Antoine’s favorite producers. We hit him up, he hit up Antoine, and the rest is history, as they say. He’s up in New York now, and since he couldn’t make it down to the ATL, he just recorded his sixteen bars up there and we mixed it with Naiya’s vocals after the fact.”
“Awesome. Great job on securing the verse. It’s a hot track, and everyone at Hamilton House agrees that having Antoine on the song will play very well with the fan base.”
“Yeah, I agree. That’s why we decided to approach him. It’s sort of a hometown tag team, ya know? Antoine and a lot of that crew grew up in Atlanta. I think that’s why he was so willing to work with Naiya, even though she’s pretty new in the industry.”
“Nice.” He paused. “So, you’re definitely on the right path with this album. However...”
Blaine frowned. Here it comes.
“...the other tracks on the album, are, well, not what we’re looking for.”
“Meaning? If you’re going to say something like that about seventy percent of the album, I’d like to gain a little clarity here, Marvin.”
He cleared his throat again. “Sure, sure. Absolutely. So, when we’re looking at subject matter for the remainder of the album, you’ve got to admit the topics Naiya’s singing about are pretty heavy.”
After Hours Redemption (404 Sound) Page 12
