by Tiana Laveen
TELL HIM!
BUT HE JUST TOLD ME HE LOVES ME… He just confided in me about his mother! If I tell him something like that, it’ll ruin everything! I hate myself for not mentioning this earlier. It’s too late now… Honestly, there’s no reason to tell him. It was so long ago, it won’t affect either of us. It won’t change anything. I’m in love, we’re in love…
Gutter leaned close, kissed her neck, then got up from the bed. He pulled that heavy curtain open, revealing a beautiful silver piano. She crawled across the bed until she reached the edge and observed him sit down at the magnificent instrument.
“I wrote a song about you. Wanna hear it?” His eyes glimmered as he looked her way.
“Of course I do. Play it.”
He took a deep breath, then his fingers hit the keys…
“It was a gray day in Harrrrlem… It was raining in Queeens… Brooklyn had leaves… There, she was…
My heart was cold like snow… It didn’t warm from a hug… Soul hot to the touch… But there, she was…
If I… could turn back time…. Would I accept an apology?
If I… could turn back time… Would I remember, she’s a part, of me?
If I… could turn back time… Could I see her side, of the, stor-y?
Now, I am in love… There, she was…”
Promise hung her head and sobbed as he continued to sing… His voice was so powerful, so poignant, so beautiful, it transcended time. Gutter kept on singing, through her amazement and woes. She was so touched by his words, and yet she knew her tears were due to many things—things he would never understand.
She realized as he sang those heart wrenching lyrics that he’d interwoven feelings regarding his mother in the song as well. He told her not with his mouth, but with his music that she was a catalyst to something much greater and more intricate than she’d ever anticipated. The tension between him and his mother could be cut with a knife. He’d just opened up to her, confirming her suspicions, but now she was certain there was no way she could break his heart with a horrid ordeal from her past. Nothing good can come of it… He’d let her inside, let her get close, a position few had ever had—of this, she was certain.
The guilt was already eating away at her, eating her alive, bit by bit, and yet, when she looked at him sitting there, singing his heart out the way that he was, they became one. His feelings became hers, and it tore her to shreds. His passion and emotions flooded the room with such raw sentiment, she drowned in it.
She looked up and saw him slowly stand from the piano. He walked past her, around the bed, and removed a condom from the dresser drawer. Her heart quickened, and lust and sorrow merged within her, forming some strange concoction.
Taking her hand, he helped her to her feet, then swooped her up in his arms. He took slow steps forward, carrying her like precious cargo, kissing her along the way. Soon, she felt the coolness of the piano against her back. He looked deeply into her eyes, and pushed her thighs wide apart.
“Ahhh…God…”
She dug into his forearms, her fingers scratching and clawing as he thrust within her, beautifully brutal and pleasingly harsh. The piano made a strange noise with each pounding thrust. In his loving he poured all of his pain and passion. Holding onto her waist, he worked himself inside of her, churning, left to right, pushing up, pulling back, his dick fully engulfed in her swollen, thirsty pussy.
“You were made to be inside me.” Her eyes rolled as he made love to her just how she liked it. He moved like silk. Her pussy was full, and he knew how to make her cum—mentally and emotionally, too.
“And you were made to be the song I’d forgotten how to sing…”
Their moans overlapped as he played with her clit, kissed all over her breasts, and dove inside her like a crashing wave.
They came at the same time… eyes locked… mouths open… screaming each other’s name… helplessly falling in love.
Yeah, Love.
There it was…
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Pink Cows, Red Roses, and Purple Bruises
…Two weeks later
“It’s like a root beer float, only, you use red soda, like red cream soda or, I don’t know, the sparkly fruit punch, somethin’ like Tahitian Treat. Then you pour that over some vanilla ice-cream, just like you’d do the root beer.”
“I had no idea that was a thing,” Mama said, chuckling on the other end of the line. “I’ll have to try it. A pink cow, huh?”
“Yeah, just something quick and easy.”
“Oh, I almost forgot. Do you know some reporter keeps callin’ me, Promise?”
“About what?”
“Something about some gutters. He said you knew about the gutters, too, and asked if you were my daughter. I told him naw so he’d leave me alone, but that’s just strange!” Promise shook her head. Now they’re calling my mother… Damn it. She got emails from strangers, gossip rag reporters, and vloggers daily now, so many she had to temporarily shut down her accounts on social media. She hadn’t told her mother about her relationship, but she planned to discuss it with her soon. Now was just not the time. “I don’t handle the maintenance in this building, so I have no idea why they are calling me about the roof and some gutters! Someone probably reported the landlord for not fixing anything. I wouldn’t be surprised!”
“Uh… Okay, Mama, I have to get ready to catch the train. Leaving work now. I can call you tonight when I get home if you want.”
“Only if you want to make a little time for me… if it doesn’t put you out or anything.”
She sucked her teeth upon hearing Mama’s weepy tone, buying roundtrip tickets to first-class seating on the Guilt Trip.
“I’ll call you. Love you.”
“Love you too, baby. I hope they clean the gutters.”
Promise ended the call, said her goodbyes to a few coworkers, and made her way into the breakroom to retrieve her apple and peanut butter dipping cup that she hadn’t eaten during lunch. I can eat these on the ride home. She looked about the refrigerator and found the peanut butter, but the apple was missing. I know I set them right by each other. She searched and searched, then peeked inside the nearby trashcan.
There, on top, between a balled-up Snickers candy bar wrapper and a microwave popcorn bag sat a damn apple core, now turning brown under the fluorescent light.
“Damn it! Can’t have shit around here.” She slammed the refrigerator door, yelling as loud as she could. “Whoever ate my apple, I hope it had a worm in it, you greedy, thieving bastard!” She grabbed a plastic spoon for her peanut butter snack cup, slid it in her bag, and headed towards the exit. As she approached the front lobby to leave, she stopped in her tracks.
There, standing in the middle of the atrium, was Trevor, holding a bouquet of red roses and a shit-eating grin…
It was raining for the third day in a row.
Gutter patted the top of his head with a napkin, trying to dry his hair a little. His stomach finally began to calm. Biting into his spring roll from Somtum Der, a great Thai restaurant Gutter’s father had come to like, he listened to the chatter of the lunch crowd all around them while they waited for their entrées.
“She’s late,” Dad said, checking the time on his Rolex watch, which Gutter had given him as a birthday present four years prior. “Zina makes me angry with her lack of time management. Geez.” Dad chugged half a cup of water, including the ice. “I’m gonna call her.”
Gutter waved him off. “Nah, she’ll be here. She may have gotten caught in the rain, or traffic might be a mess. She’s drivin’, right?”
“Yeah.” Dad pushed his empty saucer aside and began to work on his soup.
A few moments later, his tall, dark-haired sister arrived, wearing a long tan trench coat that hung open over black pants, a white button-down shirt, and heels. Finding them in the crowd, she waved to them and made her way over.
“Hey, Dad.” She wrapped her arms around their father’s neck, hugged him, and kissed his
cheek. “Sorry I’m late.” Gutter got to his feet and took his sister in a tight embrace. “Oh, gosh, Gutter. You look great. You didn’t look so hot in the hospital.” Setting her umbrella to the side, she took her seat next to him. “You still on the mend? Feeling okay?”
“Yeah, I’m good as new.” He took a sip of his cola. “We ordered some spring rolls, ribs, and papaya salads.” He pointed to the fare on the table. “Here’s the lunch menu so you can order yourself a little something.” Gutter handed her his.
“I’m paying,” Dad said gruffly as he reached for another mini rib.
“I’m paying,” Gutter corrected.
“I’m paying, and that’s the end of it.” Dad popped the meat in his mouth and chewed like a cow. “Why’s your face so puffy, Zina?” Dad asked, pointing to her right cheek.
“Oh.” She ran her hand along her cheek, a silly half smile on her face—the very same one she’d use when she’d get ready to tell a fucking lie as a kid. “You know how work is, Dad! Always somethin’ going on at the school with the children. Two of my students got into a fight, and well, I stepped in between them at the wrong time. It’s crazy how mad they get about the silliest things.” She nodded, as if telling the story to herself for the first time, too.
Gutter exchanged a glance with his father, then cracked his knuckles and leaned back in his seat.
“Jenny said your husband is an asshole.”
“Gutter, don’t start any shit with me, all right?” The woman spun in his direction, her voice elevated and her hand waving to and fro. “I know Mom doesn’t like him, but she doesn’t even know him!”
Gutter picked up his straw wrapper, rolled it up, and used it like a toothpick.
“I don’t think ya have to know someone directly to know if they’re an asshole or not.”
“What is that supposed to mean?”
“It means that if someone is an asshole, they rarely hide their asshole powers, like some sorta backwards superhero, a badge of honor, ’cause well, assholes have asshole energy, ya see? They’ve got asshole ways, asshole words, asshole tendencies, live in asshole houses, and drive asshole cars, and everyone who isn’t an asshole can see them coming and pick up on their vitality without even knowing them.”
She rolled her eyes. “Well, then you shouldn’t be able to see his asshole energy at all if those are the criteria. Takes one to know one,” she barked.
“Your husband is a pussy.”
“Shut up!”
“He is. He won’t talk to dad on the phone, and he tries to control ya. Everyone in the family is talking, Zina. Even Zach.”
“He’s not trying to control me. Are you going to believe everything Mom tells you? Well, isn’t this an ironic turn of events! You went from dissing her in your songs to fawning over her, I see!”
“I’m not fawnin’ over shit.” He smirked, twirling the paper in his mouth. “I’ve got proof he’s an asshole. Check it. Boom. You rushed in and out of the hospital like it was some revolving door. The whole time, this crawfish-faced fucker was blowin’ up your phone while you were there visiting me. Who the fuck does that? Your brother gets attacked, almost killed, and this motherfucker won’t even let you get an hour alone. Something’s not right with that, Zina, and—”
“He wanted to make sure I arrived safely! Geez! If he was so controlling, he would’ve insisted on coming with me.”
“Oh… he knew not to do that. He’s a pussy, not stupid.”
Their gazes narrowed on each other.
“You really are a piece of work! Dad, aren’t you going to say anything?!”
Dad picked up his water and took another gulp, not saying a word.
“Thanks, Dad! This guard dog brother of mine needs to be called off. You’ve been a great help.” Dad shrugged. “Gutter, you don’t know Owen, just like I said. You’re misunderstanding what’s going on and I—”
“No, that’s not it at all. I’m a man. I know how men move, Zina, especially when we’re insecure. Now look,” he pointed his finger at her face, “I’m not going to go around and around the Mulberry bush with you about this. You see me twice a year. Each time, he is a pain in the ass. He asked me for some money that time and—”
“No, not the loan again. Don’t bring up the damn loan now, Gutter!”
“I will bring up the loan again, Zina, because that husband of yours, who I don’t even really know as you’ve made quite clear, had the nerve, the motherfucking king of audacity and Lord of gull, to tell me that I should be ashamed to be so rich, when my sister is not also rich. He was really talkin’ about himself because he had no damn idea what I was doing for you, and then ya blabbed to him, and he came with his hand out, demanding cash. For two years, I paid your bills directly to the companies so he would keep his mitts off the cash. If I didn’t, Dad had already warned me he would try to get the money and do whatever the hell he’s doing and screw all of that up, too.”
“Gutter, speaking’ of revolving doors, which you know about all too well when it comes to women, let me be frank.”
“Please do.” He said with a wink and a smirk.
“I stay outta your love life, Mr. International Dick Slinger, so stay outta mine. You have no room to talk about who’s an asshole, and doing this, and doing that.”
“Geesh! Would you two stop it?” Dad blurted.
“I’m a dick slinger with a job, I tell ya that much. I’m not out here lettin’ my lady bust her ass while I lie back, able-bodied, with my hand out. He’s a fuckin’ lame ass bum, moochin’ off my sister. What a stellar guy! Maybe he can sell his ass and make a bit of cash, huh? You’ve got bigger balls than him, that’s for sure.”
Zina grabbed her purse and stood.
“I’m leaving. I don’t need this shit. Gutter, you’re still a little shit, just like you were when we were kids, and you made my life miserable. Only now, being six-five and an egomaniac, you’re a big shit! Goodbye, Mr. Big Shot. Ya make me sorry I came!”
“Zina, sit down.” Dad’s voice boomed, causing heads to turn in their direction.
She stopped dead in her tracks, looked at their father, then slowly sat back down in her chair.
“The day you two stop fighting like cats and dogs is the day Hell freezes over. Gutter could’ve said it better, a little nicer, but I’m sorry, Zina, I agree with him.” His sister huffed and crossed her arms, like an angry child being told they were going to summer school. “Owen doesn’t keep a steady job, so let’s not act like he does. That’s a problem because you can’t always pay the bills on time. You can’t get a second job because he’s so worried all the time about what you might or might not be doing. You told me that outta your own mouth a few years ago, and on top of it all, he has a sense of entitlement. He’s tried to alienate you from me, too.”
“Now Dad, that’s not true.”
“Oh really? I call, he says you’re not there. I call back five minutes later on your cell, and you’re cooking—been doing so for over an hour. So, unless you happened to be in a time machine, he lied to me. That sort of thing happens far too often.”
She hung her head then turned away. A waitress came to the table and dropped off their meals, and then took Zina’s beverage and lunch order.
“I’ll have a hot tea and some soup… thanks.”
“So, look, hon, I’m not tryna gang up on you, but we care about you and Owen isn’t allowed to treat my little girl this way. You might be okay with it, but I sure as hell am not.”
Zina stared absentmindedly at the floral arrangement on the table. She folded her hands in her lap. Gutter leaned in close to her, kissed her cheek, and attempted to hug her. At first, she pulled away, a sneer on her face as if his mere presence disgusted her, but he forced her back to him, and she soon relaxed, then melted into his touch, resting her head on his shoulder.
“Please, guys, just drop the talk about Owen, okay? We’re fine.”
Dad sighed, scooted a bit closer to the table, and started to devour his grilled pork a
nd dumplings.
They all sat quietly for a while, drinking and eating. Her soup was delivered, and she took tiny tastes, not making eye contact with anyone. He caught his father staring at him several times.
A dark cloud hovered above them, just like the overcast outside. He listened to his sister’s phone vibrate several times, but she ignored it. After engaging in a bit of meaningless small talk, she made an excuse about needing to grade papers, her usual exit plan to get going. They all got to their feet and hugged one another, promising to call and visit soon.
“Let me walk ya out to your car,” he offered. “Looks like the rain slowed down at least.”
“Yeah, that’s a relief. Bye, Dad!” She waved one more time to their father, and they made their way out of the restaurant.
“Zina, I’m not sorry about what I said about Owen, but I am sorry if you felt like I was tryna attack you personally. I wasn’t.” They walked side by side for a bit, making their way down the sidewalk.
“I love you, Zake.” Her voice shook as she spoke. “I… I don’t know what else to say.”
“I love you, too.” When they got to her Mazda, he took her in his arms once again.
“Have you spoken to Mom today? She’s not feeling’ too well. I called her on the way over here,” she stated.
“Yeah, she and I talk practically every day, actually.”
He didn’t miss the way Zina’s lips curled.
“I’m so happy you two are communicating. I know it’s hard. We all need therapy.” She laughed mirthlessly, shaking her head. “She’s our only mother though, and I truly believe she’s sorry, Zake. I mean, she and I were talkin’ again before she got sick, so it’s not like this is a way to clear her conscience or anything.”
“Yeah, I know.” He shrugged, fidgeted a bit, and looked around. “If you ever need me, I want you to call me, all right?” She smiled at him, such sadness in her big, pretty dark brown eyes. “I know you’re the oldest, the one in charge, but I won’t have anyone messin’ with my sister. I don’t care who it is—unless it’s me. I will mess with you because it’s fun,” he teased.
