Never Too Soon

by Tamika Christy

  “Ava, are you planning to wash these dishes?” Anaya asked. She frowned at the gluey green substance hardening on the counter. If she had to clean up one more time behind Ava, she was going to scream. Ava only did half-cleanups. She would put the dishes in the dishwasher but wouldn’t put them away. She also didn’t wipe the counters or sweep the floors.

  Ava waved a dismissive hand, then pulled Joshua from his high chair. “Of course. I will do it after I put the boys to bed.”

  “Probably best to do it before you put them to bed,” Roscoe said easily.

  “Probably best to wipe the counters too,” Anaya added.

  “Okay, Daddy. I will.”

  “And probably best to always clean up after yourself in general,” Anaya said.

  “Come on, boys,” Ava said. The sound of Hezekiah crying faded as the group tromped up the stairs.

  “Ah, the quiet is nice, huh?” Roscoe asked once the door shut upstairs.

  Anaya looked at her father in disbelief. “What quiet, Daddy? It’s not quiet. It’s always messy and noisy. There are too many people in this house.”

  Her father seemed disappointed. “Your family is here, Anaya. What’s going on with you? Why are you so negative toward your sister?”

  So I’m the bad guy? “The house is turned upside down.” Anaya refused to feel guilty about Ava taking advantage of their dad’s hospitality.

  “I know the dynamics in the house are different, baby girl, and I know you are used to more privacy, but try to appreciate this time we have together. And this time with the boys. Don’t take it for granted. You know your mother would let Ava and her family stay here if she were alive. Let’s honor that and support each other. Life is short. You never know when it might be your turn to need somebody to lean on.”

  Anaya pursed her lips. If Anita had allowed Ava to stay, there would have been rules, and the turtle would not be a part of the agreement. Neither would the vegan Armageddon. Anaya’s resentment was growing as quickly as Ava’s stomach. But Roscoe had a point. Family was family, and no matter how irritating they were, she needed to be there for her sister and her family. Suck it up, buttercup.

  “I know you’re right.” She sighed. “I just feel like Ava is taking advantage. She doesn’t clean up behind herself and she lets the boys run around the house like wild animals. And then there’s Joe. What exactly is his purpose?”

  “Well, now let’s be thankful that Joe isn’t our business—he’s Ava’s problem. We’re here for Ava and those boys, that’s it. But I’ve had a few talks with him. He knows it’s urgent that he get another job.” Roscoe put a hand on her shoulder. “It all comes out in the wash, baby girl. You focus too much on your expectations of the world. You are like an M40A5 sniper rifle, all set up for your target. The problem is, the target isn’t yours, sweetie.”

  “You and Mommy taught us to be independent. All Ava does is go to church and run after the boys. She doesn’t have any ambition to do anything else.”

  “Why is that your business?”

  The question surprised Anaya. “What do you mean? She’s my sister, and I want the best for her.”

  “The best according to whom? You? Let me tell you something. Those who do not look back to where they came from will not reach their destination.”

  Roscoe was trying to be a good father, and Anaya loved him for it. It didn’t matter that she didn’t always understand what he was talking about. After years of suffering through her dad’s alcoholism, she was just happy to have her dad back again.

  “I just want her to be okay, that’s all.”

  “I know. And I want you to be okay. The hardest thing you can do is to live day to day. Try not to add problems to what’s already a daily struggle. I watch you taking care of everybody, and doing everything for the family. Don’t forget about you.” He pointed at her. “You’re just as important as everybody else. Your happiness matters too.”

  She couldn’t remember the last time she thought about her own happiness. Did it even matter any more? She felt stifled by her family, resentful toward Ava, and a little disappointed that her dad wasn’t seeing her side in this.

  Instead of saying how she really felt, Anaya gave her father a hug. “I know I have a lot to be grateful for, Daddy. I just have to be patient. Work is busy, and coming home to the house like this really sets me on edge. You are right though.” She didn’t want him worrying about her.

  “Don’t let work run your life. You gotta have balance. Are you and Carl all right?”

  Anaya nodded, then checked the clock and gasped. She would be late to their first date in two weeks if she didn’t run. There was no sense in talking about it more. Ava would get her way and that was it. “I gotta go, Daddy! Carl and I are going out tonight! Love you!”

  She slipped on her heels and checked herself in the hall mirror, then smoothed out the blue bandage dress that Carl loved. Would Jeff love it too? She pushed the thought from her mind and rushed out the door.

  EIGHTEEN

  Leave it to Faven to throw a party at the Marriott Convention Center the same night as a Blacks in Tech Conference, a Jack and Jill fundraising event, and the Charles Houston Bar Association gala. After wandering around for fifteen minutes looking for the Lauder room, Anaya accepted a free glass of champagne.

  Mmmm. Veuve Clicquot.

  “Can you point me to the Lauder room?” she asked the waiter passing out drinks. She squeezed through crowds in the direction he pointed. How was she supposed to find anything in this mayhem? Carl wasn’t answering his phone.

  A painting of a sunset over the Bay, set up for a silent auction, caught her eye. She paused to admire it.

  What a beautiful painting. Too bad I don’t have anywhere to put it. The boys would scribble all over it in crayon. But it seems like something Jeff would appreciate—

  “Anaya?”

  She spun around. Jeff and a tall man with thick glasses were standing in the crowded hallway. Anaya blinked a few times to make sure she wasn’t hallucinating, but all six-foot-three of him stared back at her, looking dashingly handsome in a black tux.

  “Hey, what are you doing here?”

  “Just here supporting a good friend.” Jeff patted his companion on the back. “Anaya Goode, meet Gerald Marshall. Gerald, this is Anaya Goode.”

  Anaya put a finger to her lips in thought, then snapped her fingers. “I know you. You were the keynote speaker at the public administrator’s conference in New York last year. You work for the governor.” She was already feeling the champagne.

  “That’s right.”

  “I still have the notes from that speech. Great job.”

  “Well, thank you. I especially appreciate it coming from you, Ms. Goode. Since I’ve been in town, I can hardly turn to any news outlet without seeing your name. You are handling this naval base project brilliantly.”

  Anaya smiled. “Thank you. I really appreciate that.”

  “Jeff, I’m going to go grab our seats. Ms. Goode, it was my pleasure.”

  “Great to meet you as well.”

  Jeff gave a low whistle when Gerald was out of earshot and leaned close to talk to Anaya over the hubbub. “Wow, your fan base extends all the way to the East Coast. I knew there was something special about you.”

  “That’s nice of you to say.” Why does he smell so good?

  “I know you don’t want me to say this, but you are the most beautiful woman I’ve ever known.” He looked her up and down from her curly updo to her black strappy heels. “I don’t know what great deed I did to get to see you in this dress, but I would do it a thousand times over.”

  She frowned. He wasn’t keeping it very profesh. But part of her wanted him to keep going. “I have to admit that I’m trying to entice someone tonight.” She threw profesh out of the window as well.

  “Wouldn’t be me by any chance, would it?”

  She bit her lip. “No. I didn’t expect to see you.”

  “Ahh, so I’m just collateral damage?” H
e put his hand over his heart.

  “Basically,” she teased.

  “Well, I don’t know who you wore that dress for, but he is the luckiest person in the world.” He leaned in and their lips met. It took her a second to process that she was kissing Jeff, and she pulled away with a small gasp.

  Jeff’s eyes were sparkling and serious. “My bad. I didn’t mean to do that.” He licked his lips.

  “I gotta go.” What was she thinking, gulping down champagne and kissing Jeff? She straightened her dress and headed down the hall with his gaze following her like a drone. When she turned the corner, she finally saw a sign for the Lauder Room.

  Carl was standing outside the room down the hall. As soon as he spotted her, he strode toward her and grabbed her tightly around the waist.

  “I’m glad you made it,” he murmured in her ear. “And I’m so glad you wore this dress.” Her kissed her long and slow, and everything that had felt wrong with Jeff felt right with Carl. She never wanted him to let go, but he pulled away.

  “Is that champagne I smell on your breath?” he teased.

  She giggled. “I needed one to find my way to this room! It’s a madhouse in here.” She wiped lipstick off of his lips.

  He led her into the Lauder Room, crowded with guests milling around round tables. Anaya would have gone for black tablecloths rather than white, but the colorful woven baskets made great centerpieces, and everyone looked beautiful. A group of girls who looked like runway models were in the middle of the floor dancing Eskista. Anaya had always loved the bold shoulder dance. Traditional music, endless injera, and quality honey wine made the party a hit with Faven’s guests.

  Carl led them to the buffet table, and Anaya helped herself to doro wat. There were a few things Anaya broke her dietary rules for, and East African cuisine was one.

  “There you are,” Faven roared when Anaya and Carl made it to their table. She looked lovely in a white zuria with green, purple, and red trim. Next to her, Darren was oblivious to their arrival. Anaya suspected he had started drinking honey wine early because he was laughing loudly and stuffing his cheeks with Injera bread. At the table sat Bobby and Ricky and their wives, and Sam and her husband.

  “You guys look beautiful,” Anaya said to no one in particular. Each of the women wore traditional clothes even though Faven was the only native in the group. Anaya had missed that memo as well.

  “So do you. I see you are eating tonight!” one of the women said.

  Anaya ignored the dig. “Yes, I love Ethiopian food.”

  Faven stared daggers at her. “Eritrean.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “Eritrean. My family is Eritrean. Not Ethiopian.” Faven dismissed herself before Anaya could apologize.

  “Faven is super sensitive about the Eritrean-Ethiopian thing. There was a civil war for like thirty years or something. It’s just a culturally sensitive issue,” Carl quietly explained.

  And therefore she’s allowed to be rude? Anaya just nodded and focused on her food. It wasn’t her first time at the Mean Girl rodeo, and she knew no matter what she said, Faven would find an issue. The women around her—all soccer/dance/volleyball/girl scout moms—discussed private schools and minivans. The guys talked football across the table, and Anaya mentally checked out. She didn’t know the difference between a fumble and a tackle and thought you got a tight end from doing squats.

  Faven returned as Anaya finished eating, and turned her dark eyes on her.

  “So, Anaya, long time no see. Where have you been?”

  “Just working mostly,” Anaya replied.

  Darren spilled water on the table and laughed loudly.

  “No more tej for you, Darren,” Carl joked.

  “No more anything for Darren,” Faven said dryly.

  “Uh oh, Darren, you hear that, man?” Ricky laughed.

  Darren grinned. “I hear it, man, she’s just saying that. Ain’t that right, poo?” He rubbed Faven’s forearm, and she quickly jerked it away.

  “I have to make a speech in a few minutes,” Faven said. “I’m so nervous, and I can’t have you distracting me.”

  “You will be great,” Sam said. “You are great at everything.”

  Anaya stifled a gag and pulled out her phone. They treated Faven like she was the Duchess of Sussex. Oh, Faven your hair is perfect. Faven, you are so funny. Faven, it’s okay that you treat your husband like crap, we still worship the ground you walk on.

  She liked a few photos on Instagram, sent a text to Roscoe, and added a meeting to her calendar. She got absorbed in work emails until Carl bumped her elbow gently and looked at her, then down at the phone.

  Sorry babe, she mouthed, and put the phone back in her purse. What else am I supposed to do if, even after an eighty-hour week, work emails are more engaging than the people around the table? After a few minutes of hearing about Faven Jr.’s exceptional coloring skills (Faven had modestly named her daughter after herself), the difference between a nanny and a mommy helper, whether LeBron could bring another championship to the Lakers, and the tenets of toddler poop, Anaya excused herself to get more wine.

  I know why Catie declined my invitation to this mess.

  When she sat down again, she looked across the table at Faven talking loudly to some of her other guests. Faven was actually attractive with typical Ethiopian—er, Eritrean, features—caramel skin, large eyes, prominent forehead, and mounds of curly hair. It was her insides that were ugly.

  Carl stood up and stretched out his hand. “I’ve been wanting to dance with the most beautiful woman in the room all night.”

  Anaya let him pull her to the dance floor. She smiled seductively and wrapped her arms around his neck. “Let’s go back to your place,” she said in his ear.

  He kissed her. “Soon. Is everything okay?”

  “Yes, I just miss you,” she said, and rested her head on his chest while they slowly rocked.

  After two more songs and a few group pictures, they were saying their goodbyes.

  “Bowling party next week,” Bobby called out. Anaya cringed.

  Faven hugged Carl, and then Anaya. “Good night, guys,” she said.

  “Good night, Faven,” Anaya said automatically.

  Once they reached the lobby, still bustling with activity, Carl stopped. “Did you have a good time tonight?”

  “Always with you.”

  “Good, I’m glad to hear that.” He looked serious. “When you first got here, it felt like you would rather be somewhere else, with someone else.”

  Someone else? Where did that come from? Anaya took his arm. “Don’t be silly. I want to be with you, Carl. Doesn’t matter where.”

  “Good.” He hugged her, and they walked out to his car.

  Anaya fell asleep on the way home. The next morning, she woke up to the smell of coffee and eggs. Her blue dress had been replaced with one of Carl’s tees, and one of her lashes was on her cheek. She had veiled memories of the evening, mostly from mixing champagne and honey wine. She pulled her phone out of her clutch and ignored a text from Jeff asking if she found her party last night.

  She followed the smell of bacon into the kitchen where Carl stood over the stove.

  “Good morning, sleeping beauty. Sit down. Breakfast will be served in a few.” She gave him a quick kiss then walked blearily to the table. A moment later, Carl was bringing her a cup of coffee and an egg white omelet. He sat down next to her, and she nuzzled his neck, trying to remember last night. She remembered Faven’s dress, dancing, and seeing Jeff. Something else happened with Jeff . . .

  She looked up from her plate and found Carl examining her with a smile.

  “You look good in my t-shirt.”

  “Oh, do I?” She smiled.

  He nodded. “Yep. There’s only one thing I like you in better than my t-shirts.”

  “And what is that?”

  “When you wear nothing.” He leaned in and kissed her, then began to lift the shirt over her hips.

  The doorbe
ll rang.

  The disappointment of stalled intimacy hit Anaya hard, and her words came out harsher than she’d intended. “Are you expecting company this early?”

  Carl glanced at the clock on the wall. “Shoot, I forgot. Zendaya wanted to drop off some papers.” He looked back at her. “Hold that thought.”

  Anaya escaped to the bedroom while Carl went to the door. She threw on a pair of sweats. What is Zendaya doing at Carl’s place at this hour? Anaya was trying to straighten her hair in the mirror when she heard Zendaya warble, “Good morning.”

  “Hey. Thanks so much for bringing these by. I forgot you said you were coming this morning. I could have picked them up from the center.”

  “Don’t be silly. That’s out of your way, and I was going to be over here anyway. I’m sorry I forgot to remind you I was coming.”

  Is she making her voice that husky on purpose? Anaya moved toward the bedroom door. One more step and she’d be in the hall that led to the front door.

  “Still, you didn’t have to do that, Zen.”

  “It’s the least I could do. You’ve done so much for Tyrell.”

  Anaya stepped out of the bedroom and cleared her throat.

  Zendaya’s eyes widened in surprise before she plastered on a smile. “Oh, hi Anaya!”

  “Hi, Zendaya.” Anaya waved.

  “I’m sorry. You two are trying to relax and I’m intruding. I know you don’t get to spend much time together. I just wanted to drop off these papers.”

  How does she know how much time we spend together?

  “Will you stop apologizing?” Carl said gently. “I told you I’m going to do everything I can to help you get custody.” He put his hand on her shoulder. “We got this.”

  “Yeah,” she said, putting her hand on his and clutching it. “Thank you.”

  Anaya cleared her throat again. “Have a good day, Zen,” she said, smiling sweetly.

  “Yeah, um, you guys have a good day too.”

  Carl closed the door and turned to her. “Now, where were we?”

  Anaya folded her arms across her chest. “Does Zendaya come over here often?”

  Carl cocked his head in confusion. “What? No, this is the first time. I know the director of this camp she wants to get her nephew into, and the deadline is tomorrow, so she brought the application over.”