by Love Belvin
I sniffled. “I’m over it.”
“You’re not. He betrayed you.”
“She did, too. I practically mentored her. Held her close to me since I moved in the house with them. She was my shadow.”
“And this happened when you and Sheldon were together?”
I nodded against his chest. “I was tied up about a year after grad school, trying to get a certification. Late study nights, early morning group sessions in Starbucks. We were fighting a lot and I mentally shut him out so I could finish; I was so close.” A snort pushed from my nose. “I thought back then it had begun that last year of grad school. Now, as a logically thinking woman, I realize it had begun long before then. Sheldon didn’t like me finishing my Master’s. It was one thing for me to start and be in the gray of it. Then me going straight into getting certified was too much for him. He hated it. I’d advanced ahead of him way too much. He prefers young, inexperienced girls. Not ambitious and accomplished women.”
“He wanted to hurt you?”
“And she wanted to be me.”
“How did you find out?”
“She called me one day while I was driving down to Trenton for a group session. Studying. She told me.” I shivered.
“She just said it?”
I nodded. “She was crying so hard, she could barely get out the words. When she did, I couldn’t grasp it at first. Tried too hard.”
“What do you mean?”
“I forgot the task at hand.” I swallowed, my eyes narrowed from the pain of the memory. “I lost control of the car.”
I felt him tense beneath me. “Is that how you messed up your knee?”
“Foolishly.” My throat tightened. “Yeah.”
“My God…” he uttered softly, so tenderly I almost missed it. “I’m so sorry for your pain.”
“I’m over—”
“Bullshit!” he growled.
I took a deep breath, closing my eyes in comfort. I didn’t want to think about them.
“One good thing about me doing this fake marriage thing was the escape,” I admitted out loud.
“From where? You lived by them? With them?”
I snorted a laugh, remembering this man had no idea of my life before him.
“Garfield’s small, but they’re close by in Passaic. It doesn’t matter; she goes over to our grandmother’s house, MaMa. She keeps the kids.”
“You lived with your grandmother?”
“No. When I moved out of Sheldon’s place four years ago, after finding out his irrevocable fuck up, I got my own place with Van’s help—and money. A garden apartment in Garfield. I lived there for a while until my aunt and her little girl needed a place to stay.” I shrugged. “I moved into the living room and gave them the only bedroom.” I took a deep breath. “But having to see them when seeing family hurts.”
“You still love him?”
I shook my head. “I can’t stand him. I’m not the type to hate people, but what I feel for him comes close. It seemed like the blinders were snatched from my eyes overnight. I’d been with him since my second year in high school, all the way up until I was about twenty-four.”
“Yeah, but your second year of high school was your last. You went to college the next year.” He remembered.
“Yeah. That’s when all hell broke loose in my life—that last year of high school. I lost my grandfather almost a year after my grandmother. I swear, he died of a broken heart. But I also think he loved me enough to see me to college. I was young, but clearly he thought I was ready to sit amongst adults.”
“You stayed on campus your first year?”
“No. I was too young. With my mother’s parents gone, my other…grandparents stepped up.” I hated those lies. There were two sprinkled in that statement. “Well, my grandfather stepped up. He invited me to live with them. I was there for almost two years and then stayed on campus, which was bullshit because I was really living with Sheldon my entire college career.”
“So checkered,” he murmured with a tone of rumination.
“Tell me about it.”
“No wonder your mantra.”
“What’s that?”
“Knowing the rhythm of blues.”
“I could write a book on it.” I lifted my head. “And you know the worse of it all—my childhood?”
“What’s that?”
“The secrecy. I hate secrets, especially in families. Your childhood seems to have been shrouded in secrecy. That’s why I want to earn your trust. You don’t have to keep any from me.” My head shook softly. “Let that be the real between us.”
“You know the rhythm of blues,” he mumbled. “I know all the hues of gray. You hate secrets, I despise gray areas.”
My face folded as I was slapped with a revelation.
“Checkered… Gray…” His eyes tried following mine. Then I glanced around the room. “Is that your fascination with black and white? Why your club was named Checkerboard? Your homes designed in mostly black and white?” He didn’t respond, which was his answer. Taking a deep breath, I lowered, resting my head on his chest again, clutching his thick frame as best I could on the mattress. “We have such a long road ahead of us. And two and a half years seems so short.”
“We can always go the distance.”
“I can’t believe you’re leaving.” Wynter blinked wide and hard. “Why do I feel so conflicted by this?” Her eyes came up to mine as if to ask me instead of my grandmother.
I pulled her into me and learned right away it was what she needed because her arms folded around my waist and head burrowed into my side as though it was natural for her.
“Well, daughter,” Grandmother began in her petite voice as we stood at the door to see her off, “I move on the Lord’s prompting. I’ve been here almost two months. My numbers are good again, the doctor said. And my flock needs me.”
I had to agree with Wynter; I may have dreaded my grandmother’s stay at my crib, but it turned out to be a blessing, one I was still processing.
“We appreciate your covering while here, Pastor. I understand you gotta get back to the church,” I offered.
“Praise God,” she whispered, eyes closing as she nodded. “I hear Myisha gone be back?” she spoke up.
I nodded. “We’re meeting her for dinner tomorrow at her favorite restaurant.” She had demanded, saying she missed home that bad. “She’s coming straight from the airport.”
My grandmother held her hand out for Wynter, who left me to receive it.
“Daughter, even though sometimes it may feel you were brought here by happenstance, God wants you to know each strand of hair on your head was planted by Him. Every step you made in life up until now has been orchestrated by Him.” Her eyes squeezed closed, chin went into the air, and voice heightened several octaves. “You may not know Him like my grandson here, but not only does our God love you, the time for Him to reveal His purpose for your life is upon you.” A chill ran down my spine. My grandmother was prophesying. I’d seen her in action more times than I could count. The atmosphere changed when she operated under that anointing. “And it shall come to pass!” she declared.
My head rose and I peeped Wynter, not really expecting much. She’d shown patience and grace with my grandmother’s idiosyncrasies, as they likely were to her. I was surprised when she rushed my grandmother in a hug with closed eyes.
“I hope to see you again soon, Grandmother McKinnon.”
My grandmother smiled, her eyes closed, too. “Praise God,” she whispered and not to Wynter. “You will, daughter.” That time she was speaking to her.
Her eyes opened and my grandmother spoke directly to me. “The Lord dealt with me last night about you. Troubled my sleep. It’s time for you to clean house. You knew this long ago, but refused to be obedient. Well the Lord is saying the time is nigh. He said even in your disobedience, He’s planted an unstoppable blessing in your midst.” My chest lifted, lungs filled with unexpected air. “You will be dealt with, but covered. Yo
u need to stop leaning unto your own understanding and thinking it’s up to you to clean up your mess. All you have to do is surrender all. Totally. Completely. And finally.”
With a bow from the neck, a heart full of guilt, and a rebuked mind, I uttered, “Amen, Pastor.”
“Amen.” My grandmother extended her arms. “I feel the need to join hands in prayer.”
Without a moment’s hesitation, Wynter and I met her outstretched hands and bowed our heads in prayer.
20
“What’s up with all that fidgeting?” I glanced up from my bare and toned legs and thighs to find a smirk playing at the sides of his lips.
My face folded. “I’m not fidgeting.” My eyes fell again to the five inch pumps I braved tonight. They were a pair of Ase Garbs his cousin swore I had to have when we met. I’d only worn them once and hoped the nude color was a good match with the red mini dress I picked myself. “She hasn’t seen me since I was a size fourteen. Just wanna make sure I’m put together.”
We’d just been shown our private dining room, hadn’t taken our seats yet.
“It’s only Myisha. She sounds so happy to be back, she won’t even remember the color of your teeth before you had them whitened.” My eyes shot up in a panic. I’d forgotten about that venture. Raj giggled then his face hardened and he stepped closer to me. “You trippin’.” He scowled at me, possibly picking up on my anxiety.
Then he stepped closer—an intimate juxtaposition—face still fixed in a scowl. But his eyes… They softened, and I knew what that meant.
He wants to kiss me…
My gaze circled the private room. It was odd he chose DiFillippo’s. Our lives had been about public display to keep up the charade. This place was notoriously private, low key even. It’s what the owners prided their reputation on. Mentally, I shook off that curiosity. I couldn’t think with Raj this close. I could smell his delicious scent and feel his heated impression. It all covered me, fuzzing my brain.
“Why you have to put on all that lipstick,” he whispered softly, sending the coolness of his breath into my mouth.
“So my lips wouldn’t get dry,” I opted for sarcasm.
“You could’ve gone with clear. That, I could’ve wiped off,” he noted, eyes hooded.
I swallowed hard, my bladder suddenly dancing and I couldn’t pinpoint why. “Duly noted as your fake wife.” I backed away. “I need the restroom.”
I was on my way before he could reply. Security parted at the door and I was tailed to the back of the restaurant. Once inside and tapping on the black and white miniature tiled floors, I took a deep breath, relieved to be alone. I hurried into a stall and handled my business. On my way to the sink, I felt no less relaxed than I did when my bladder was raging. After washing my hands, I peered into the mirror. Taking a deep breath, I willed myself to just calm down. I’d been in far more precarious situations than this. Had sat across the table from the most inhumane beings known to man. Sharing a meal with my fake husband’s sister-cousin would be a swim in the kiddie pool.
Right…
My walk back to the private room seemed to have taken a decade as my face was to my pumps, but I knew I’d arrived when I heard a crisp gasp.
“Daaaaaaamn, Gina!” Myisha was standing to her feet, her manicured hands covering her gaping mouth as her eyes bulged. Myisha pivoted to regard Raj, who remained in his seat. “You really wanted her to disappear! The hell you do to her?” With a pained expression, she bowed her head, extended her arms, and wiggled her fingers summoning me to her.
I found myself rushing into her arms, greeting her like an old high school pal. Damn… It felt good having her sway me side to side, temporarily banishing my anxiety. She withdrew and pushed me back to pay another inspection. Myisha’s face was full of surprise.
“Yessssss, bitch. Yasssssss!” Her wide and smiling eyes bounced all over my body. “You ‘bout to make me call my old trainer up.” Then she tossed Raj a look. “I ain’t having you boss me around. Fuck that.”
That’s when I regretfully glanced over to him, too. Raj’s fixed eyes were half-mast and hungry. They dipped low then rose to meet my face.
“So!” I leaped in my heels and took her by the shoulders to gloss over that slip up. “That flight, huhn? How long was it?” I asked moving to an empty seat—away from him.
Myisha resumed her seat, rolling her eyes. “Too damn long!” She picked up the menu. “Y’all gots no idea how happy I am to be home. I’m beasting to get back to work.”
Two waiters appeared together to take our order.
“What’re you having,” Raj murmured, eyes on me as Myisha ran down her desires and specifications.
“Hmmmm…” I scanned the menu. “Something lite.”
“It’s your cheat day. You can have just about whatever you want,” his tone—now that we were in front of a new outsider—was too tender.
“I know,” I hummed, perusing the salad section, biting the inside of my lip.
I chose not to say I didn’t have much of an appetite.
“Hey, Wynter,” Myisha called out. “You wanna split a bottle of wine? I know Raj is only going to have Mauve.”
I shook my head. “No, thanks.” My face still to the menu. “I’m having water with lemon…sure I’ll have a real drink at home later.”
I couldn’t tell her I’d become conversant with Mauve myself, thanks to late night sharing and fucking with her cousin.
“Oh!” I heard the surprise in her voice. “Okay.” It was followed by a vocal shrug then she ordered her drink.
I settled on a small antipasto and Raj went with chicken marsala, holding the pasta and opting for a side salad. The moment the waiter left to fill our order, Myisha began to let it rip about her state of mind.
“Oh, my god!” Her hands shot dramatically in the air. “My phone wouldn’t stop the first month. Like… No matter how many emails I sent letting people know ahead of time I’d be on a sabbatical, and how many pix I posted on IG saying, ‘Hey, I’m away!’ folks wouldn’t let up!”
“I got a few calls and emails related to you,” Raj shared with half a smile, his head resting on his hand with his elbow on the table. It was adorable. He was relaxed and engaging with his cousin. I think I felt a bite of jealousy at that because lately, I’d been the recipient of his rapt attention. “Paul McDonald over at Showtime went through his emails while on the phone with me until he found your messages saying you’d be away and asked who to contact in your absence.” He let out a soft chuckle, contentment dancing in his eyes for his cousin, who was more like a sister returning home from such a long period and distance away.
“Ugh!” Myisha rolled her eyes. “So damn annoying,” she hissed.
“How was Vanda? His equipment hold up the whole ride?” Raj was asking about her keyboard playing Ukrainian boyfriend, the one she ran off with to do an international tour.
The man Myisha was choosing to take the big plunge with. Vanda, being one of Raj’s keyboardist for several years, had been chasing her for just as long. He gave her an ultimatum: come with him for four months or he’d never pursue her again. I encouraged her to go with it. She made this big fuss about letting go, and committing fully to a man. To finally lose her virginity, something that still didn’t sit well with me.
“He’s still out there.” Her eyes fell to the table where she fingered the top layer of white cloth. “Got another month or so to go.”
“Yeah.” Raj leaned into the table. “I thought it was weird when Wynter said you were coming home. The schedule Vanda gave said he’s due back a few weeks before we kicked off the rest of my tour.” His brows knitted, filled with curiosity.
Myisha’s warmly lined eyes brushed between the two of us quickly before falling again. The sommelier—I still couldn’t get over eating at a restaurant with an assigned wine waiter—was at her side, pouring a couple of drops of plum liquid into a wide-bowl glass. She giggled nervously, quickly lending her attention to taste testing the wine. Then Myish
a nodded her approval and more was given.
She took a healthy gulp and midway, her eyes grew and she hummed her recollection. I watched as she swallowed big and placed her glass down. Coincidentally, Raj and my drinks were being delivered at the same time. “Hey!” Myisha began, ignoring the waiter moving about the table. “Did you know that in Abu Dhabi, they have beauty contests for camels?” She registered when my face opened up with interest. “Yeah! Camels are really important there.”
“Nah.” Raj placed his tumbler on the table after swallowing with stretched lips from the potency. “Didn’t know that. Never been, but would like to.” His eyes grazed me momentarily.
“Yup.” Myisha nodded. “The women usually have designer clothing underneath their abayas, but only other women will see it. And the men smoke hookah…think they call it shisha. They got a diverse population, mostly from people that work there. It’s mad hard to become a citizen of the UAE.”
“You thinking ‘bout moving there?” Raj teased. “I’mma have to kick Vanda’s Ukrainian ass.”
Myisha rolled her eyes, fighting a smile. Shaking her head, she continued, “The boys do this thing called drifting where they drive on two wheels. It’s the craziest thing to see…” she went on, but I faded out for a bit, thinking how weird this all was.
Just two months ago, Myisha was a welcome distraction from the awkwardness of Raj and me being in the same room. Now, I envied her chemistry with him as she told stories of her discoveries in distance lands, fixedly holding his attention. The attention I was used to being exclusively on me for the past month.
Quickly, I shook that emotion off. Ragee didn’t deserve that. He needed as many emotional, trusting, and genuine connections he could get. As he and his cousin went back and forth about her trip and the business of his career that employed her, our food was served and we ate—well, they ate and I raked my salad around the plate mostly, my appetite playing hide-and-go-seek on me.
“You’ll never believe who I ran into in Manchester two months ago.” Myisha challenged with a devilish gleam in her eyes. “Serena.” She amended, “Williams.” My face folded slightly, and Raj’s eyes fell before he wiped his mouth with the cloth dinner napkin. “She was shopping for the baby.” She laughed.
