When It Rains...

by Angie Daniels

  He looked at her, startled from his daze by her mellowtone. “Yeah, girl, anything.”

  “Can you come with me to my doctor’s appointment next week?” She dropped her head, then raised it. “I wouldn’t ask, but all the other women ... well, their husbandsare usually there, and, well ... I seemed to be the only one—”

  Nodding, Jay placed a hand on her shoulder, silencingher. “No problem. I’ll be there.” He flashed a reassuringsmile.

  She batted her eyes and lowered her hand to cover his that was still lying flat on her abdomen. “Thanks. I really appreciate it.” Then, wanting to test the waters further, she added, “Maybe I can make an appointment for us to see a lawyer the same afternoon.”

  Jay’s froze at the word lawyer, then remembered his decision to give his child up for adoption. As he felt the baby shift inside her womb, guilt traveled to his heart. Was he really making the right decision? Shhiiit, he didn’t know what the hell to do. He removed his shaky hand and rose to his feet. Wearing a far-off expression, he exited.

  After he left, Kendra stretched leisurely across the couch, wearing a triumphant smile. She had finally made it to first base.

  Honey left the clinic after stopping at the reception desk to schedule another appointment. Climbing into her car, she breathed in the cool air and hoped spring would soon arrive. When she looked at her reflection in the rearview mirror, she sighed at the sight of her red eyes. You look like shit. She couldn’t go back to the salon like this. There would be too many questions. She reached into her purse, removed her compact, and put a little powder on her face.

  She’d had a breakthrough in her session today, and prayed for many more. Why had she been crying? Today was a new beginning for her. A time for healing. Somethingshe should have done years ago.

  She steered the car in the direction of the salon, but as tears began to fall again she made a sharp left turn, heading toward home.

  Four

  “You’ve got to be pulling my leg!” Natalia croaked with laughter in her voice. But even as she said it, she knew Jay wouldn’t dream of joking about something so serious as Kendra being pregnant.

  “What do you think, Nat?” Jay said, frowning at the beautiful mahogany woman he’d known all his life, the closest thing he’d ever had to a sister. After his meeting with Kendra the evening before, he was curious as to why Natalia had never mentioned that her best friend was carrying his child.

  “Shit, I didn’t know that was your baby.” Her tone was apologetic now, as if she should have known. After all, Kendra always shared everything with her. Kendra had called her only moments after Dr. Hill’s square-headedass had proposed, and in the same breath had added, “Oh, by the way, I’m pregnant.” Natalia had assumedthe baby was Dr. Hill’s, and Kendra hadn’t botheredto correct her.

  Brow drawn with worry, Jay regarded Natalia’s innocentexpression with skepticism, waiting for her left eye to twitch—an immediate telltale sign her ass was lying.

  Natalia chuckled again at Jay’s incredible revelation and pressed a slender hand to her chest. “I swear, Jay! I thought she was carrying his baby.”

  Jaw clamped tight, Jay held her gaze without so much as a blink before finally concluding that Natalia was in fact telling him the truth. Then he sighed and rubbed his hand across the nape of his neck, feeling even more frustrated.

  Natalia leaned over and placed her hand on his arm. “You sure it’s your baby?” she asked, her voice sympathetic.“I mean ... it was Dr. Hill’s baby, and ... well ...” She tossed a finger in the air. “For all we know, next week it could be Jed Clampett’s baby.” Falling back against the couch, she laughed.

  Jay gave her an irritated look for finding humor in his present situation, and pressed his back against the brown leather chair. After giving the possibility a lot of thought, he’d decided the odds were stacked heavily against his ass. “If my dates are correct, the baby she’s carryin’ is mine. Which brings me to the subject of my visit.” He edged forward and placed a large hand over hers. His voice low, he said, “Sis, I need a big favor.”

  When she met his gaze, she immediately realized what he was about to ask. Snatching her hand back, she shook her long auburn curls. “Oh, hell naw! I’m not getting mixed up in this shit.”

  “You’re the one that introduced us,” Jay reminded her.

  “But I didn’t tell you to drop your fuckin’ pants.” With narrowed eyes, she asked, “What happened to the safe-sex sermon you used to give me?”

  Jay didn’t need to be reminded that he’d been thinking with his dick. Terraine had already done that for him. “Well ...” He paused, scratching his bearded chin. But he decided not to protest—he knew he’d allowedhis good senses to be altered by alcohol. “Come on, Nat,” he pleaded.

  Natalia rolled her eyes heavenward. “No way. You got yourself in this mess,” she managed through stiff lips.

  Jay shot her a desperate look. “You owe me, Nat.”

  Seeing his pitiful expression, Natalia knew he was trying to lay on the guilt trip. Unfortunately, it was working. She groaned, hating to be in the middle of other people’s problems. But she had to shoulder her part of the blame. It was she who’d planted the bug in Kendra’s ear that Jay was single, wealthy, and ripe for the picking. Her intentions were good; she had wanted to see the two people she loved most together. Even so, what a mistake that had been! But because she loved him dearly, she couldn’t possibly say no to his plea for help. He needed her. “All right. All right.” She threw up her hands in resignation, ready to kick herself for letting him talk her into getting involved.

  Dressed casually in black leggings and matching tunic, she curled her stocking feet underneath her, leaned slightly closer, and said, “I’ll speak to her.”

  Deep down, she was disappointed Kendra hadn’t trusted her enough to share the truth about her unborn child—the child who would become her godchild. The bitch was still sneaky as ever. The two had been friends for eight years, since meeting during their freshman year at UMKC. They’d shared the same dorm, and spent many nights passing the time talking about their lives instead of studying. Even though they were born on different sides of the tracks, Natalia had found their lives a lot alike. Homes with very little love. Parents with very limited time.

  At her agreement to help, Jay dropped his shoulders with relief. “Thanks. I ’preciate it.”

  A teapot whistled, and Natalia escaped to the kitchen to prepare a cup of hot chocolate for the both of them.

  Jay rose from the couch and moved across the gleaminghardwood floor into the dining room to take a closer look at a new African artifact sitting on top of a floor-to-ceilingshelving in the corner. An elephant carved out of ivory was the perfect addition to Natalia’s already large collection. She frequently traveled, and purchasedthe pieces from the countries she had visited. Jay was proud of her talent in design. Natalia appreciatedhis admiration, even though what she yearned for most was to earn praise from her self-centered parents.

  Senator Bonaparte and his wife had been so busy building his career that their only child went neglected. When Natalia was sent away to a boarding school, Jay’s grandfather, also Natalia’s godfather, intervened. When he took a personal interest in Natalia’s life, she had becomethe daughter he never had. Growing up with the spoiled and attention-starved Natalia wasn’t easy, especiallyfor Terraine, whom Nat had a childhood fantasyof someday marrying. Jay, on the other hand, grew to love Natalia and protected her as if she were a real sister. She had always been a beautiful woman. At eighteen, she set out to become a model, landing numerouscontracts with major cosmetic and clothing lines before becoming a spokesmodel for Diva Designs.

  Brushing past a large oak table, he moved to a pair of white French doors and remembered the tulips last spring that made the large glass windows the central focus of the room. High ceilings added dimension to the area, blending with the cool cream color of the walls and the mosaic tiles covering the floor.

  “Do you want marsh
mallows?” Natalia called from the kitchen.

  “Yeah.”

  Jay moved back to the living room, where African-influencedprints were mixed with crisp black upholstery.A bay window with a bench seat was in the corner next to a large built-in bookcase where Natalia spent many hours curled up among the colorful pillows,reading.

  Flopping back in the chair, Jay found his thoughts wandering to Honey. When they first met, she had just purchased a new house, and he’d had the privilege of helping her move in. She’d had so many plans for her home. Together they had built a bookcase in one of the spare bedrooms she intended to use as a den. He wonderedif she had ever finished redecorating.

  Resting his elbow on his knee, Jay dropped his chin to his hand. Seeing Honey again had given him hope. He had expected her to hide her feelings, but he’d seen the desire dancing in her eyes behind a fake smoke screen. Even though she’d made it clear that she didn’t want to have anything else to do with him, Jay knew better. He had seen her nipples harden beneath her sweater. Now all he had to do was come up with a way to make her finally come to terms with her feelings. Dealing with Honey would be no easy task, but it would definitely be worth every minute.

  Natalia returned carrying a tray with piping-hot mugs of cocoa and an assortment of store-bought cookies. Looking over at Jay, she met his wary expression. “What if Kendra is carrying your child? What’re you gonna do about it?”

  Jay was silent, lost in his own thoughts as he rememberedfeeling his child move inside Kendra’s body. He had created a life. The experience still stirred him. “Be a man and take care of my child,” he said at last.

  Giving him a wistful smile, Natalia replied, “Good. You’ll be a good dad.” Setting the tray on her oak coffeetable, she latched on to the handle of a large green ceramic mug and offered it to Jay.

  Jay reached for the mug and frowned. “I tend to disagree.” He took a sip, then continued. “Besides, Kendra and I agreed to put the baby up for adoption.”

  Holding her own mug, Natalia almost dropped the hot liquid onto her lap. “You can’t do that!” she shrieked, then looked at him in alarm as she lowered herself onto the couch. “Why in the hell would you even consider giving up your child?”

  Jay looked up from his mug and stared at her for several seconds before saying, “I’m not capable of nurturinga child properly. What do I know about love?”

  “Yes, you can. I’ve never known a more loving individual.I’m the one who’s a spoiled-ass brat.”

  Jay’s eyes sparkled as he balanced the hot chocolateon top of his knee. “True, that.”

  Natalia pouted. “Don’t get smart,” she said. “What I was trying to say is that it never mattered to you how I behaved, because you love me unconditionally. That’s what it’s supposed to be about.” She paused long enough to roll her eyes. “Shit! The only time my parentsever patted me on the back or said they were proud of me was when my skinny ass was strutting down a runway, or when one of their fake-ass friends saw my face on the cover of a magazine.” Natalia took a deep breath, suddenly upset at allowing her thoughts to tread in that direction. “Anyway ... you can always get a full-time nanny to help you out.”

  He shook his head. “No. That’s the way we were raised.”

  Natalia sighed. Bringing her mug to her lips, she remembered the attention she never received as a child, and the way her parents had pushed her off on several different nannies who’d only done it for the money.

  Even though she had loved her godfather, Richard Andrews, Natalia knew he seldom ever showed physicalaffection with his grandsons, believing it would make them punks. Like her, Jay had been raised withoutthe nurturing a child needed.

  “Then I’ll help you,” she said, her voice quiet.

  Jay chuckled. “You don’t know the first thing about raisin’ a child.”

  She puckered her lips in protest. “Well ... no. But at least I’m willing to try! That’s my little niece or nephew we’re talking about. I would love to have someone to spoil.”

  “You sound like Terraine,” Jay grumbled.

  “Well, at least he and I agree on something for a change.” Natalia’s words were dripping with sarcasm. She was thinking about the debate they’d had earlier. As the CEO of Diva Designs, Terraine insisted on recruitinga new marketing director. It was the beginning of the spring season. As fashion director for Diva Designs,she took marketing their gowns very seriously. In the interim, she’d been wearing both hats. In her opinion, it wasn’t a good time for someone new to step in. She, along with a full marketing staff, had been doing quite well, and she wasn’t ready for any outside interference at that point. Natalia shivered at the thought of someone coming in who knew nothing about the history of the corporation, initiating a lot of no-frills ideas.

  Brushing aside her dilemma, Natalia noticed Jay was a million miles away. She lowered her mug to the tray with a bang, getting his attention. As Jay raised the mug to his lips, she saw his uncertainty and said, “You’ll make an excellent father. Now, Kendra’s mothafuckin’ass ... that’s a different story.” And a sigh escapedher.

  “There’s my baby boy.” Honey leaned down, and her four-year-old nephew scrambled into her arms. Wrappinghis tiny arms around her neck, she squeezed him tight against her chest. “I missed you, sweetheart.”

  “Marcus, let your auntie get out of the cold first,” her sister-in-law, Tequila, scolded while wearing a warm grin. Tequila opened the door wide so Honey could enter Helen Love’s quaint little house. She barely managed to plant a peck on his chubby cheek before Marcus dashed out of her arms to the family room at the end of the hall.

  Stepping into the living room, Honey asked, “Where’s my bigheaded brother?”

  Tequila shut the door, then turned to face her. “Mama Love and Shaq are in the kitchen. Rashad hasn’t made it yet.”

  Honey nodded while taking in Tequila’s new look. A couple of weekends ago, the ebony woman had convincedHoney to cut her long dreadlocks. Now her jet-blackhair was short and natural. The effect was perfect for her round face and chocolate eyes.

  Honey adored her sister-in-law. Shaquil had met Tequila while managing a small bar on the city’s Southside. She had worked as a barmaid, and it was her suggestion to begin selling food. Tequila’s hot wings were heaven-sent. Shaquil eventually opened his own bar and grill and took Tequila along with him. It had taken five more years before he realized she was the woman of his dreams.

  Honey removed her coat, laid it across the couch, and walked to the kitchen where the air was thick and smelled of something familiar cooking. “Mmmm, somethin’sure smells good.”

  Following close behind, Tequila acknowledged the compliment. “That’s my greens with smoked turkey,” she said, unable to keep the pride from her voice.

  The woman could burn in the kitchen. Just thinking about how wonderful it would taste made Honey run her tongue across her lips. The ham and cheese sandwichshe’d had for lunch was now history. “I can’t wait.”

  Tequila had begun teaching cooking classes last year. Since then, she’d added several additional pounds to her thick hips that Shaquil commented made his wife look even more delectable.

  Honey entered the kitchen to find her mother bastinga turkey on the stove and Shaquil standing at the sink buttering fresh-baked rolls. An aluminum pan of corn bread dressing was on the counter. One would have thought it was Thanksgiving. She zeroed in on a delicious-looking Dutch apple pie cooling on the table. Baked goods were Tequila’s specialty; she prepared a crust so light and flaky it melted on your tongue.

  “Hey, everybody,” Honey greeted, then strolled over and wound her arms around her brother’s neck, kissing him soundly on the cheek.

  Six years her senior, Shaquil turned green eyes on her and smiled broadly. “Hey, sis.” He was dressed in an orange sweatshirt that enhanced a cinnamon complexionshe had always envied. Shaquil wasn’t as tall as Rashad, but still towered over Honey’s petite frame.

  Moving to the stove, she planted
a kiss on her mother’s forehead.

  “Hey, sweetheart.” Tiny lines around her eyes crinkledwith Helen’s smile. She was a beautiful woman. Her fine wavy hair was brushed away from her face, showing a clear picture of her mixed heritage: creamy beige skin and gray-green eyes inherited from an Irish mother, and a wide nose and full lips that were the distinctqualities of her Haitian father.

  Honey looked down at the juicy turkey. “That sho’ looks wonderful, Mom. Can I have a sample?”

  Helen playfully swatted her daughter’s hand away, but not before Honey reached for a small, tender piece of white meat. Then she removed the oven mitt, reached for a large spoon, and began stirring a pot of pinto beans. “It will be time to eat soon enough. Grab a knife and put icin’ on that cake.”

  Chewing, Honey reached for a butter knife with a smile. Moving to the far end of the counter, she spread homemade chocolate icing over her mother’s fabulous marble cake, anticipating the sinfully sweet chocolate taste. Making certain Helen wasn’t looking, she ran her index finger across the knife, then raised it to her mouth. That shit is finger-lickin’ good. She couldn’t match her mother’s recipe, no matter how much she tried. Helen never wrote anything down. Her cooking lessons were “observe and learn.” Even watching, Honey never could perfect the taste.

  “What would you like for me to do, Mama Love?” Tequila asked.

  “Get some fresh vegetables out of the refrigerator and make a tossed salad.”

  Honey watched Tequila move to the sink to rinse her hands, a smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. Everyone was used to her mother’s direct personality, knowing it was just Mama’s way.

  Honey looked forward to Sunday dinners. It was a tradition; they prepared the meal together as a family. She watched as her mother reached into the stove to removea pan of bubbling sweet potatoes, glad she was enjoying the new oven after they’d had to insist she let go of the old stove she’d had for over fifteen years. The almond self-cleaning oven was the perfect complement to the earth tones of the kitchen. Last year, Rashad had laid nutmeg ceramic tiles on the kitchen floor, and they were gleaming bright as ever. Helen could spend all week cleaning another family’s home, but always found time on Saturdays to clean her own home. Although small, her house was just as immaculate as any mansionin West County.