by Rita Ewing
“You got that right,” Anna added. She took Leila’s hand. “Come on, let’s get a drink before the movie begins.”
When Nona, Allen, and Kelly stood alone, Allen leaned close to Nona. “Did you notice the way Toni reacted to Derrick mentioning your meeting?”
“What do you mean?”
“I don’t know. She doesn’t seem to like the idea of you working with Derrick. I think she might be jealous.”
“First of all, Allen, any time I spend with Derrick is just about business–”
“I know that, Nona, but–”
“And secondly, this is not the time to be discussing this. Tonight we should be celebrating Toni.”
Allen held up his hands. “I didn’t mean anything. I didn’t think–”
“Maybe that’s the problem, Allen. Maybe you should start thinking.”
“Mom.”
It was the look on Kelly’s face–excitement mixed with confusion–that made Nona remember where she was. In that instant, the lobby lights flashed and Nona took Kelly’s hand, returning her daughter’s smile. It took a moment for her to look at Allen. I’m sorry, she mouthed.
He shrugged as if it were okay, but Nona knew she’d wounded her friend, and that was not what she’d wanted to do. Even though she knew where her words had come from–from that place inside her that had not forgotten his warnings after the zoning meeting. From that place that kept her awake at night telling her that Allen might just be right.
She’d go to him later, apologize, explain … and beg for the fight that he’d always had in him to return. His fight was contagious. It was what she always held on to. It was what she needed now to win against Reverend Watkins.
The marble-adorned lobby was crammed with many of the hundreds who had been invited to this premiere and they began to push their way toward one set of the double doors leading to the theater. In the crowd, Nona spotted her friends.
Leila walked alone, just a few steps ahead of Anna and the mayor, while Shawn stayed in a circle near the bar with his friends.
Nona shook her head. With all that she had to face, she knew one thing for sure. She put her arms around Kelly’s shoulders. There was definitely no place like home.
fourteen
Nona dashed down the staircase, but then paused at the bottom.
“And, Odessa, there were so many beautiful women. And they were all dressed in designer gowns. And I got to meet Ms. Lee again and she gave me a hug. It was great.”
“Well, what about the movie?” Odessa’s accent floated into the hallway, where Nona waited. “Did you enjoy the movie?”
“It was all right,” Kelly said just as Nona entered the kitchen.
“All right?” Nona and Odessa said at the same time.
Kelly shrugged. “Everybody knows that premieres are all about being seen.”
“Oh, really,” Nona said.
“Yeah. Seeing all of those famous people was much better than the movie. The girls at school are going to be so jealous.”
Nona filled a cup with coffee that Odessa kept brewing until she had her fill.
“Well, I’m glad you had a good time, sweetie.”
“I sure did. And, Odessa, afterward Mom took me to Jean-Georges for dessert, even though it was a school night. And then she said I didn’t have to go to school until third period today.” She sighed as if she had lived a wonderful dream. “I wish every day was like yesterday. It was great hanging out with you, Mom.”
Nona smiled. Her desire to just grab her coffee, rush back upstairs, and jump into her clothes faded with Kelly’s words. She really did enjoy this time–breakfast was the only meal that she rarely missed sharing with Kelly.
She took a deep breath, buttered two pieces of toast, and joined Kelly at the table. She glanced at the apple-shaped clock that Kelly had made in third grade. Ray would be coming to take Kelly to school in less than thirty minutes. She could certainly give her daughter that much time.
As Kelly continued her play-by-play commentary on the premiere, Nona rolled over the idea that had come to her that morning. She didn’t know why she hadn’t thought of it before. But it was more than luck that had made her turn over this morning and click on the television to Good Morning America. And Charlie Gibson. And Alicia Keyes. And the mini-concert in Marcus Garvey Park.
“Mommy, who’s Mr. Carter?”
Nona blinked. “He’s a friend of Toni’s and he’s worked with me on my videos.”
“Really? What type of work does he do?”
Nona wanted to say that Derrick Carter worked to get on her nerves. “He’s a producer, which means that he puts together everything to make a video or movie come together.”
“He told me he worked with Steven Spielberg on Ms. Lee’s movie, and he said that one day he wanted to get together and show me what he did. I hope he calls soon. I really liked him.”
Nona wished she’d felt the same way. But if she thought her time with Derrick had been difficult in the past, it was nothing compared to what would happen when they met today. Even now, hours before their meeting, she could hear his words of disgust, see his look of disdain. But it didn’t matter.
When the doorbell rang, Kelly jumped up. “Oh, that’s Ray.” Kelly kissed Nona. “Bye, Mom, and thanks for a terrific night.”
“You’re welcome, sweetie. Have a good day.”
Kelly smiled. “Oh, I know I will,” she said as she grabbed her backpack and dashed to the door.
“I haven’t seen her this happy in quite some time.” Odessa chuckled as she reached for Kelly’s plate.
Nona nodded, then noticed the plate in Odessa’s hand. “What did Kelly have for breakfast?”
Odessa glanced at the slice of bread with just a few bites missing from the corners. “She only wanted a piece of toast and juice.”
“That’s all she had?” Nona asked as if she couldn’t believe Odessa’s words.
“I’m sorry, Ms. Nona. I thought she wasn’t hungry because I assumed you had a late dinner. I figured Kelly was still full.”
Nona sighed. Yes, they’d stopped by Jean-Georges, and she’d been pleased when Kelly ordered a slice of raspberry swirl cheesecake. But Kelly had taken only one bite. Nona tried to convince herself it was the excitement of the evening that kept Kelly from eating, but now as she stared at the toast that Odessa still held over the table in her trembling hands, Nona realized it was going to take much more than a night at a premiere to get Kelly’s eating on track.
“That’s okay, Odessa.” Nona placed her hand on herhousekeeper’s shoulder. “We just have to be more aware–watch what she’s eating … or not eating.”
“Yes, Ms. Nona.” Odessa turned toward the sink.
Nona sighed. She was sure she’d made a few inroads with Kelly. And maybe she had. It was just going to take a bit more. No problem, she was up to it. She would do anything for her daughter–just as she would do anything for her other baby. She had the perfect solution for Brickhouse. All she had to do was get Derrick Carter to understand this was how it would be.
“You have quite a daughter,” Derrick said after he and Nona exchanged greetings. “I really enjoyed talking to her last night.”
His words made her proud although she dreaded what would happen in the next minutes. While he continued to chat about the premiere, Nona sat behind her desk and took in the sight in front of her.
As usual, Derrick was dressed impeccably, although much more casually. Not Armani this time; she guessed Ralph Lauren–a navy blazer with tan pants. Although the suit was different, his scent was not, and she inhaled, loving his fragrance.
Today was the first time she noticed his hair–the way it glistened under her office lights. As if it had just been washed, but without time to dry, and his short cut swirled with curls cropped close to his head.
“Maybe,” he continued as Nona studied his full lips as they moved, “I’ll get a chance to see Kelly again one day.”
Nona took a deep breath. She couldn’t exp
lain why her heart was pounding as if she cared what Derrick would think. After all, she didn’t really like him. At least that was what she kept telling herself. “Derrick,” she began, hopingthat he’d remember she was the mother of the young girl he seemed so fond of.
“Okay, let’s get to work,” he said, pulling a file from his briefcase. “It’s all finalized,” he said with excitement. “The dignitaries, the special guests, the dancers, all of the production equipment from the lighting to the music. My team has been working. I got the final permits for Central Park this morning.”
“I want to change the venue.”
“What?”
“Marcus Garvey Park.”
“What?”
“It should have always been at Marcus Garvey Park. I don’t know what I was thinking, but Brickhouse is in Harlem and Marcus Garvey is the Central Park of Harlem.”
She breathed, allowing the silence of passing seconds to let her words settle between them.
“Nona,” he started, his bass-tone voice filled with forced patience, “we are too far into this. It was an aggressive schedule to begin with and you want to change the venue at the last minute when it makes no sense. Central Park is the perfect venue.”
“But when you think about it, Derrick, it makes much more sense to do the video where I live and work.”
“You live in Manhattan. You work in Manhattan.”
“I live and work in Harlem.”
He threw up his hands. “Here we go again. You and Harlem.”
She waited, half expecting him to call her video a “black thang” again. His words reminded her of all the comments she’d heard through the years. And he affected her the same way all those other people did. Didn’t matter.
“Nona,” he said, leaning forward, his hands flat on her desk. “Please rethink this.”
“I have. And my only regret is that I didn’t plan it in Marcus Garvey in the first place. Not only for all the reasons I’ve told you, but have you heard what’s going on with Brickhouse and the Harlem Empowerment Office?”
“I’ve heard rumors.”
She stood. “It’s more than neighborhood gossip,” she said, pacing behind her desk. “There’s a real chance that Brickhouse could be closed.”
“Okay,” he said as if he had a solution. “Now I understand where you’re coming from. And I pray that it all works out for you. In fact, you have my support, and I’ll do whatever I can to support you. But this has nothing to do with the video.”
“Yes, it does. See, not only does it show everyone in Harlem how committed I am to this community, but it gives me a chance to employ people who live here and showcase the place where I live and that I love.”
“So you’re trying to impress a few politicians?”
Nona almost laughed as she thought of the seven men in the Harlem Empowerment Office, sitting around the conference table, unable to utter any words until they received direction from Reverend Watkins. “I don’t care about the politicians,” she said, remembering that even after all her calls, she still hadn’t heard from the commissioner. “I care about the people. I need the people behind me.” She returned to the chair, her voice high with excitement. “We can invite the residents of Harlem to somehow participate in the video. And at the same time, I can turn it into a rally to keep Brickhouse. I haven’t thought it all through yet–”
“Obviously.”
She ignored his interruption. “Maybe I can have petitions, maybe I can organize a rally at the Harlem Empowerment Office, maybe I can just get a few hundred Harlem folk upset.”
Derrick took a breath. “Nona, I understand your dilemma, but please don’t get it twisted. One is about keeping your business, and like I said, I’ll do anything I can to help you do that. But the other–this video is about building your business.”
“It’s the same thing to me, Derrick.”
He sat back in the chair, pressed his lips together, and stared at her for a moment. “What can I say to change your mind?”
She hoped her smile would diffuse his anger, but she shook her head solidly. “Nothing.”
“What if I tell you that it’s the biggest mistake you’ll ever make? People across the country will buy this video when they hear it’s been filmed in Central Park. But no one will be impressed with it being in Harlem. Who’s ever heard of Marcus Garvey?”
Nona wondered who he saw when he looked in the mirror. “Well, maybe we can teach a few people a few things.”
“I don’t know.” He shook his head. “This is probably going to push back the video date several weeks. We’ll miss the important holiday sales.”
“That’s fine.”
“I don’t even know if it can be done.”
“I’m sure you’ll figure out a way.”
“And the dignitaries … I can’t promise who will attend now that you want it … in Harlem.”
“It never was about them.”
“I still want it to be a diverse crowd. I don’t want all black faces.” He paused when Nona raised her eyebrows. “I’m just thinking about marketing.”
“That’s your job, Derrick. I’m just doing mine.”
More silent seconds passed. He stood. “Well, there’s no need for this meeting. I have to get to work. Start over.” He tossed the file back into his briefcase. “You know this is going to cost more money,” he said as if that was the final ace that could change her mind.
“I understand. If you can fax me a new budget as soon as you have one, I’d appreciate it. And of course, you’ll be paid for all of your time.”
“There was never a doubt about that.” Derrick snapped the lock on his briefcase. Nona stayed in place, her hands folded on her desk. He didn’t even look at her before he stomped from the office and shut the door without another word, leaving the delicate scent of Versace Man to remind her that he’d been there. Nona held her breath until she was sure he was out of the building.
It was a certainty now. There was no way Derrick Carter would ever work with her on another project. After this video, she’d never have to see him again. And that’s just fine with me, she thought, although she couldn’t explain the slight ache that she felt in her heart.
fifteen
They collapsed onto the down-filled pillows on the kingsized feather bed at the same time, their heavy breathing the only sound that filled the space.
It was a minute before he said, “Leila, Leila, Leila.”
She rose up and laid her head on her lover’s chest, feeling his heart still racing.
He kissed her forehead. “You’re fantastic, sweetheart.” He was still panting. “I swear you’re going to make this old man have a heart attack.”
She giggled. “You’re hardly old.”
He wrapped his arms around her, holding her tight. “I love spending time with you.”
She snuggled deeper into his arms. These days were the best of her life. She’d never felt so cherished.
“Did I make you happy, Leila?”
She smiled. “Of course.” She gave the answer she always did when he asked. Her physical release wasn’t what was important. It was the way he made her feel–inside and out. His words were so different from her husband’s. Shawn never asked. Shawn never cared.
“That’s good,” he said, kissing her forehead. “You know that’s all I want to do. Make you happy.”
She laid her thigh over his. She wanted to be one with him again.
He continued, “You looked beautiful at the premiere last night.”
She sat up. “Did you really think so?”
“Of course.” He wiggled his fingers through the curls of her hair. “I wanted to grab you right there in front of everyone.”
She sighed. His words were pure poetry.
“I’m telling you, I had to control every bone within my body to keep my hands off you. There was not a woman in that place who could rival you. That’s why I called you this morning.”
“Really?”
“I had to s
ee you. I couldn’t wait to be with you.”
It didn’t matter to Leila that she didn’t believe what he said–she was sure he believed it. He was the first man who’d ever spoken to her that way, and it made her shudder with joy. His words wiped away the ones that Shawn used to torture her. This man wanted her, needed her.
“I just wished …”
Her eyes widened at his words. “You wished what?” she asked.
He smiled at her. “Nothing.”
“No, please, sweetie. Tell me what you were going to say.”
He sat up and leaned on his elbow. “So, what’s on your schedule for the rest of the day, besides maybe a little more of this?” He flicked her nipple with his finger.
She pouted inside, wanting to know what he wished. Did he have the same wishes and hopes that she did? She stared at him, and his smile widened. Of course he did. His words were proof. He wanted everything that she wanted.
“Sweetheart, do you think we could ever get married?” she blurted before she could think through the thought.
It took a moment, but then he leaped from the bed, dragging the heavy comforter to the floor with him. “What are you talking about? Asking me if we could ever get married. Are you crazy? You’re married to Shawn Lomax, for God’s sake.”
“I know, but I was just thinking–”
“Don’t think, Leila. That’s not why I’m with you.”
She pulled the sheets up to her chest, covering herself. She was shocked into silence. Where were the words that he was whispering to her just moments ago?
“Look,” he said, grabbing his pants. “You knew from the beginning that this was just about fun and games.”
He was almost completely dressed before she could command her mouth to move. “I’m sorry … I just thought–” She stopped when he glared at her. “I don’t know what I was thinking.” She scooted from the bed and stood in front of him, letting him soak in her nakedness.
He looked at her for a moment, but she knew trouble was ahead when he turned away.
“Please don’t leave.” She put her arms around his neck. “I’m sorry.”
“Leila, I can’t afford you thinking this is any more than it is.”
