by Tiana Laveen
“It’s so soft…so wet and sweet,” he whispered, then scooped her ass in his palms and looked at her pussy, his was bubbling over with lust and deep affection.
“What’s that? You want me to eat you again?”
He didn’t miss Brooklyn’s lethargic giggle.
“Mmmmm!” Bringing his lips back to her core and pressing her thighs far apart, he drew her clit into his oral embrace, making her bend, wail and shake.
“Ohhh no, I…I can’t!” She tried to bring her thighs together, but he didn’t let her. She clawed at the sheets, struggling. He laughed, looked up into her eyes, landed a final kiss on her pussy and helped her to her feet. Looking at him from over her shoulder, she picked up her panties from the floor.
“My eggs are getting cold.” He grabbed his cellphone and stuffed it in his pocket.
“And whose fault is that?”
When she regained her wits and strength, she sprinted ahead of him out of the bedroom, making her way up the hall and towards the kitchen. He grinned mischievously and raced after her.
“It’s yours! I’m like an overgrown child; at least that’s what you tell me. How could I resist eating candy before breakfast?!”
~***~
CHAPTER TWENTY
The grand house looked even larger than she remembered. Brooklyn sat in the taxi right outside the gated entrance, the engine still running. The white ribbed pillars beckoned her, reminding her of the majesty within, but the curtained windows appeared soft in contrast to the vast structure. The winding porch had been one of her favorite places to sit and read, play on her computer, relax and chill with her peers, while shoo’ing her younger sister away. The memories rolled and rolled in her mind, until warm feelings enveloped her. She looked down at her lap, then grabbed her purse. Emotions whirled within her. She found herself swallowing several times, as if that would make the anxiety disappear. After paying the cab driver, she got out the vehicle, looking over her shoulder back at the house. Shadows moved about on the first floor of the dwelling. The yellow cab with the loud exhaust rolled away down the gravelly path, leaving her there, all alone. She kept staring at the car until she could no longer see it, and then, she stared some more.
She turned back towards the house. Her purse slung over her shoulder and a small mustard yellow travel bag filled with all of her necessities. She put one low, charcoal heel in front of the other, until she’d reached the large, burgundy front door, the peephole larger than she last remembered. Even from outside, she was instantly hit with the scent of cinnamon, onions and spicy peppers… Mama was cooking. She raised her fist to knock and hesitated, knowing full well people were inside, watching her, waiting. Her heart beat a bit harder when her knuckles finally collided with the damned thing and in a mere second, the door flew open and there stood Mama, her petite frame and reddened eyes glistening with fresh tears.
Hands, voices, bodies, soul grabbing gospel music, a baking ham, and a boar’s head atop the fireplace grabbed her attention as she floated through the doorway, being touched, being hugged, being revered. In the near distance, her father stood in the vast living room. He held a brown pipe in his hand, his chin high and a healing black eye delivered from her beau…
He simply nodded in her direction amongst the talk and chatter as she was whisked away into the kitchen, surrounded by some people she didn’t even recall. They’d been little children at the time of her departure…
She stood there, staring at big bowls filled with freshly chopped onions, crisp parsley, home-made flavored butters, and pans of cornbread and biscuits. This was how she remembered home, and for a split second, it felt like she’d never left.
“Mama?” she called out amongst the sea of people. She needed to touch the woman, to feel her. No one had even given her a chance to get near her mother, and it irked her deep within. Fighting tears, she turned frantically in circles, until she heard, “I’m right here!” in a jerky voice, the woman’s hand high in the air as if a mosh crowd had absorbed them both, and in a way, it had. People hurled questions and comments at her, but Brooklyn could barely understand. Soon, she heard her father’s commanding voice.
“Let’s give her a little room, please, family.”
His pipe smoke eddied past her. She caught his eye, then watched him disappear once the crowd finally released her from its frantic grip. Her mother made her way through once again, gripping her shoulders and looking her up and down. Her grasp grew tighter and tighter as the small woman with auburn, naturally curly hair previewed her daughter. The sight of her pursed slightly-glossy lips, her make-up done to perfection, and the tiny black apron wrapped around her frame had knocked Brooklyn in the gut — bringing back memories of the woman in an apron, fixing breakfast every day in times long past.
“You…Lynne.” Her mother wiped her nose; a tear cascaded from her tired eyes. “You look beautiful!”
She shook in her mother’s embrace, held on to her for dear life.
“So do you, Mama…so do you.”
Out of the corner of her eye, she spied her sister and brother. Claudia stood there, her eyes just as bloodshot as Mama’s. Boy, had she grown. She seemed a bit taller and definitely more filled out. She had on a pretty ivory blouse, and was looking down, as if ashamed. She soon realized her sister was silently crying. Earlwood Jr. stood right beside her. She almost didn’t recognize him…he looked so grown with his short, cropped beard, broad shoulders and glasses.
“Lynne.” Her sister lifted her head and made timid steps towards her. Though her body seemed stiff, her voice, the way she’d called out her name, had a sense of urgency. “Lynne!”
Brooklyn turned from their mother and grabbed hold to the little girl she’d cursed and told repeatedly to stay out of her room. Now, that little girl was a grown woman, with a wedding band on her finger. With a loud and harsh sob, she barreled into her, laying her head on her chest. Brooklyn took her sister in her arms and held her in a tight embrace. Claudia’s heart palpitated through her shirt, thumping against her chest. Soon, Earlwood Jr. joined in, then their mother, then their father. Though others moved about, just the five of them seemed to exist at that moment, lost in a huddle of love, of amnesty.
Yes, I forgive you, Dad. I forgive myself, too….
A few hours later, the house had cleared. The vast dining room table was covered in empty pans from a meal that had been demolished like the Last Supper. All that remained were Brooklyn, Claudia, Earlwood Jr., Dad at the far end of the table, and Mama at the other. Brooklyn glanced around, looking at the unlit fireplace, the shiny, wooden accent wall reminiscent of a log cabin and then, at the enormous chandelier above their heads, covered in small, twinkling yellow lights. She picked up her glass and downed the last drop of merlot then toyed with her napkin. It had been a stressful night. Everyone was asking the million-dollar double jeopardy question: ‘Where have you been, Lynne, and why did you go?’
She had her canned answer prepared and ready to go:‘I went to Chicago. I had run into a bad crowd and lost my way, but straightened my path and started a new life.’
‘Why didn’t you call your family? Why would you do such a foolish thing?’ This would usually be the question to follow, even from people she barely knew. She resented it, for they made her lie again, and it wasn’t any of their business. Nevertheless, she’d smile, act polite and say, ‘Because I was ashamed.’
This answer seemed to be okay; anything that pointed the finger back at her was readily acceptable for the time being. The judgment in their eyes, despite the warm greeting, said it all. As family and friends stuffed their faces with lemon cakes and candied yams, they eyed her, judging, forming opinions and conclusions. Surely, the honorable Earlwood Sr. did nothing to cause such a fiasco. The man was as good as gold to them. He was envied in the community. A black man who had come from nothing, and now practically owned an empire. He was articulate, had a long, Southern drawl, been faithful to his wife, was active in the church, charitable, strong, tall and dashi
ng…and he had a God-fearing wife who was sweet as honey, as well as two children who’d done right. Two out of three wasn’t so bad, Brooklyn figured the naysayers surmised. She was now the white sheep, in a black, wealthy family, considered noble and meek for they’d come from sharecroppers and housekeepers and now they lived on a hill —in a house sitting atop acres of land and hiring housekeepers with blonde hair… They’d made it.
Brooklyn took a deep breath and continued to fold that napkin up until it was tight as a cigar. She was feeling some sort of way, her mood morphing to something dark. Something hovered in the room, something ugly and vile, a big problem, and no one dared to point to it just yet. Rather, everyone kept their seats and their mouths shut, too.
“Lynne,” her father broke the silence and placed his palms on the table before him, looking at her with narrowed eyes. “I’ve told your mother what actually transpired as well as why. I thanked Ace for contacting me earlier today, and letting me know.”
Her mother nodded, but remained quiet.
“I wish…I wish you would have come to me years ago, so that we could have sorted this out, but I understand fear. I know what it’s like to be afraid. I’ve been afraid ever since it happened…afraid someone else may find out.” He cleared his throat. “I am still rather alarmed that that was what caused this, that I caused this. I never thought in a million years that you were running from me.”
Claudia shot her father a look, one of complete perplexity, while Earlwood Jr. kept his focus straight ahead, his eyes resting on an empty plate.
“What…what are you talking about, Dad?” Claudia questioned.
“Lynne, we’ve had this celebration tonight, not only to welcome you back, but for another reason as well. It marks a beginning.” He placed his napkin on the table. “As well as an ending. I’m now prepared to tell my other children what happened.” He turned and looked into his son’s and youngest daughter’s eyes. “Ten years ago, I did something that changed my life and that of others, forever, Earlwood and Claudia.” He looked down at the table, as if the wishing there was some way out of this.
Dad, don’t…
“I took another man’s life in self-defense.”
Claudia gasped, scooting her chair back three spaces. Earlwood Jr. remained stone-faced and Mama crossed her arms, unmoved or startled by the revelation.
“Claudia, I doubt you recall the man very well, but he was a good friend of mine. Without wasting essential time with pointless details, he’d stolen some money from me, practically all that I’d worked for. He and I had been working on a project to own our own construction company. Everything was lined up. He was to take the money to his bank, add it to his own investment, which was double of mine. He ended up stealing that money from me. I’d known this man for over twenty years. I had no reason to not trust him. Regardless of how devastating that was, I didn’t kill that man over that, though. Money is replaceable, human life is not.” He shot Lynne a look, then continued.
“When I confronted him, he pushed a gun in my face. At that point, things were moving so fast, I was just trying to survive. We fought, the gun went off, he died. Instead of calling the police, I panicked. Now, this isn’t an excuse, it’s the truth…but, there were people who wanted to see me go down, to see me struggle, get in big trouble. Going to prison would’ve been a cherry on a sundae for them. There were some white people I even worked with, who felt I didn’t know my place. That ‘good ol’ boy’ mentality was and still is, to some degree, real.”
Lynne tried to read his expression when he looked at her again. What did that look mean? Did it have to do with her being in a relationship with Ace? Or was it something else?
“In any case, I knew I’d never be believed, nor would I receive a fair trial. I didn’t kill that man in cold blood…he was the one that stole from me, and came for me, to kill me. I told him I’d call the police on him, about the money he’d taken, and I guess…” he ran his large palm against the black runner on the table, “that was the wrong thing to say. It set him off. I had proof of what he’d done, and he knew it, but he was my best friend, so I wanted to hear him out before I did anything, give him a chance.
“He came to my job, that’s where the argument ensued and he pulled a pistol on me. I had no idea that your sister was there. She didn’t see that part though. All she saw was me…” —he hung his head as his tone turned woeful — “…taking the body away…”
Claudia covered her mouth with both hands and shot looks between Brooklyn and their father. Her fragile world was no doubt collapsing. Earlwood Jr. swallowed real hard, so much so, his Adam’s apple bobbled as if he’d tried to gulp a baseball whole.
Their father took a deep breath and surveyed the room, clasping his hands loosely together. “So…your sister confessed to me that was why she took off, Earlwood and Claudia. She was afraid of me; she didn’t want there to be any trouble…and she didn’t believe she could be a part of this family anymore, because of it all.”
“I didn’t want Dad to go to prison.” Brooklyn sat up straighter, interjecting. “I felt that…if I stayed, I might be tempted to tell. It was too heavy of a burden. I loved… I love Dad, and our family. I always have. Some would say I should have run to the police. Others would have said I’d done the right thing. But, it doesn’t matter what everyone else thinks. I knew I didn’t want Mama and everyone else to suffer, and I was afraid that if I said anything, I’d be hated by you all. I still worry about that, even now that Dad has explained what happened.” She sighed. “I didn’t want to mess everything up for everyone. So, since I couldn’t erase what I’d seen, I erased myself, so to speak…I went away.”
Earlwood Jr. stared at her hard, his eyes narrowed. “I never knew how or why, but I figured you’d left because of something bad going on right here under our roof.” His lips were tight, as if he wanted to cry, but instead, only an angry pitch poured out. “And…I never admitted it, but when Mr. Turner came up dead, I thought just maybe, that Dad had something to do with it.”
“Why would you think that?!” Claudia asked, still obviously in a state of shock. “Daddy would never hurt anyone!” She pleaded their father’s case, holding on to a slippery dream that had already turned to water in her grasp.
Earlwood Jr. glanced at the naïve girl and rolled his eyes. “’Cause Claudia, he was acting different right after he’d gone missing. We used to joke around, and he wasn’t doing that anymore. Trust me, I didn’t want to believe it. Matter of fact, I spent most of my life telling myself that I was wrong, but in the back of my mind, I knew the possibility was there. Why’d you tell us this now, huh?”
“Your sister is…”
“No,” Earlwood Jr. crossly interrupted as he gripped the side of the table. “Lynne left to avoid this very thing right here, and now it’s all in vain, worthless. You shouldn’t have told us!” he said, his voice both angry and tinged with sadness. “Now, we’re all accountable!”
“I had to tell the truth, son! It’s been eating away at me and it’s not fair that your sister was gone all of these years, and would have to be looked at like this, like she’d done something wrong! Did you not hear what everyone was saying to her tonight, huh?! They blamed her!” He pounded the table. “I refuse to have that happen, all on account of me!” He pointed at his chest. “She’s been through enough…” He hung his head, and everyone was quiet for awhile. “Besides, it’s long overdue. Look, I said this dinner was for two reasons. To celebrate Lynne’s return and…because I’m turning myself in.”
“What?!” Claudia rose from her seat. She looked around in a panic — as if each person in that room were in some way to blame for what was transpiring. “You can’t!”
“I can and I will. All I can do is hope and pray for a fair trial. I…I hope the new evidence will help me. I’ve already contacted my attorney after Ace contacted me and forwarded me some information. You all will be fine now. There is enough money to—”
“I don’t care about the mone
y!” Claudia screamed. “Dad, you can’t! You just can’t!” She broke down, lost it right there in the middle of the dining room.
“Stop. This is not debatable.” Their father rose from his chair. He walked over to Mama, wrapped his arm around her quaking body, bent low and kissed her cheek. She just held on tight, more tears streaming down her face. Their father then disappeared into the den and returned with his jacket on. “I’m going down to the police station.” He sighed, took a deep breath. “I don’t know what’s going to happen, but...pray for me, for our family.” Everyone got up and swarmed him in a tight huddle. They kissed him as he sobbed, and everyone else did, too. At last, he maneuvered away from them and stepped to the front door.
“Dad!” Claudia screamed out. She almost tripped racing towards him, her hair bouncing with each step. She gripped his sleeve; the poor thing refused to go down without a fight. Earlwood Jr. glared, his face twisted in a mixture of hidden emotions. He casually approached the two, and unhinged his baby sister from their father’s arm.
“Claudia, stop it,” he said calmly.
Claudia’s expression was unmistakable as she glared back at Brooklyn. In that moment, she knew her little sister hated her. Everyone no doubt could see it. Her father stepped in.
“Listen, Claudia,” Their father grabbed his youngest child by the shoulders. “I’ve had a long time to think about this. Lynne’s leaving wasn’t in vain.” He shot his son a glance. “She did nothing wrong. She was tryin’ to help us…and she was afraid of me, her own father!” His voice trembled with regret. “All this time, I’ve been chasing my little girl. Chasing a woman that was hoping I’d never find her!”
Brooklyn approached her father, silent tears running down her face. Their mother returned to the table, her back turned — quiet, so very quiet.
“Do you know how painful that is for me?! On the ride back home, on the plane, I couldn’t stomach myself. It don’t matter that she didn’t know all the facts, it’s that for ten years, she ran and stayed away. Your mama has been through hell over this! She lost her daughter and her husband to some degree, too. I became a different man after that night. My marriage, my family, everything has suffered because of this. My godchildren are the Turner children! Do you understand how painful it is to look in those peoples’ faces all these years, knowing what I know?! They send us Christmas gifts and cards every year. His eldest daughter, Constance, sends photos of her new baby. She tells me I’m her father, since her own father is dead. There is no greater guilt than what is in my heart!
