by Tina Martin
Royal nodded.
Ramsey sipped coffee, glancing at Gianna’s picture on his desk. “I’m going to tell you something, Royal. Life has a way of making you realize that the things you think you don’t want are the very things you need.”
“That’s true,” Royal agreed. “After all, I didn’t set out to get married, but now I get it. I used to frown at people when I asked them how they knew they’d found the one and they would answer that they just knew.”
“Yeah. I recall you throwing a few of those frowns my way.”
“I did,” Royal said. “But, I get it now. Gemma’s amazing. There’s no way I wasn’t going to go ahead and lock her down.” Royal leaned back in his chair, stretched, still thinking about coffee.
Ramsey glanced up from his computer to ask, “So, Gemma took a day off to do some housework, huh? Or did she just take off because she knows Gianna’s off?” Ramsey looked at his email inbox, accepting Judy’s meeting invite – the one he just told her to make for Thursday.
“What you talkin’? Gemma’s not off today. We left the house this morning at the same time, actually.”
“Really?” Ramsey frowned but quickly cleared his face of the confusion. Carson told him Gianna was going to Gemma’s after breakfast. Last night, Gianna told him the same, but how could she be helping Gemma when Gemma was at work?
“Yeah, she went to work,” Royal said. “Why? Are you stressing? Think she’s doing too much?”
“No. I know she’s okay,” Ramsey said taking out his cell phone again. He saw a text from Carson five minutes ago.
Carson: She just left.
He glanced at his Rolex: 10:42 a.m. Then he replied:
Ramsey: Where did she tell you she was going?
Carson: To Gemma’s, Sir.
“Let me get out of your hair. You look like you’re knee-deep in something,” Royal said, standing. “Thanks for the chat. See—it’s good to be normal sometimes at work, ain’t it?”
Ramsey narrowed his eyes as Royal exited the office. Where was Gianna going? To the hospital to meet Gemma maybe? Or did she have to go to the bakery? He was seconds away from calling her when he put the phone down and decided to focus on work. He trusted Gianna, so it really didn’t matter where she was going. He was sure they’d discuss it over buttermilk, fried chicken tonight.
Chapter 3
She couldn’t tell if it was morning sickness, an upset stomach from the blueberry oatmeal Carson convinced her to eat, or if her unsettled stomach was due to the fact that she agreed to meet with her mother at Jetton Park this morning. That feeling only intensified when she realized Geraldine was already there sitting on a green, wrought iron park bench along one of the walking trail.
Walking along the sidewalk while runners breezed by huffing and puffing, keeping up their strides, Gianna approached the bench where Geraldine was sitting and said, “Hi, Geraldine.” She would never be comfortable enough to call her mother even if they did somehow manage to get back on good terms. She’d never been a mother so Gianna didn’t feel she deserved the honor of that title.
Geraldine stood up and wrapped her arms around her daughter. Gianna’s first instinct was to push her away since she considered such an action to be fake coming from Geraldine Crawford, but she reluctantly accepted her embrace. She had high hopes for this meetup – that for the sake of her child, she could take the steps needed to build a good relationship with her mother, but she couldn’t do that without Geraldine’s cooperation.
Ramsey didn’t care if she let Geraldine go entirely. He said she didn’t need the stress that consumed her whenever Geraldine was the topic of discussion and for all intents and purposes, he was right. Gianna knew it, hence her decision to keep this meeting a secret from him.
“Hi, Gianna. It’s good to see you.” She reached to touch Gianna’s stomach, but Gianna blocked her hand.
“Oh. Sorry. It’s just a habit to want to touch a pregnant woman’s stomach I guess.”
“I’m finding that to be true and annoying. I’m very protective of my baby and so is her father.”
Geraldine nodded. “I’ll keep my hands to myself.”
Gianna sat down. Geraldine’s strong perfume made her nauseous and lightheaded. Did she really need the whole bottle? And why was she dressed in ripped jeans like she was a college student who’d taken a wrong path in life? She wore a white blouse, her signature gold rings and a pair of camel-colored wedges.
“You’re going to be a good mother, Gigi—I meant—Gianna. That, I can already tell.”
More runners passed. A skinny white lady jogging while pushing her baby in a stroller. A group of teenagers who looked like they were running just to fulfill a P.E. assignment. Older people – like senior citizen old – who hobbled along the trail like they were waiting for the Aleve to kick in.
“I wasn’t a good mother to you or Gemma. I know that. It’s hard to admit, but I know I didn’t do right by you girls.”
“Why not?” Gianna asked since Geraldine was open to conversation. “Why weren’t you a good mother? Whether or not to be a good mother is a choice like anything else in life.”
“They may sound crazy to you, but I do have my reasons.”
“Which are?”
Geraldine sighed. “I watched my mother—your grandmother—work her fingers to the bone. And I mean this woman worked hard to only bring home pennies. After watching her struggle, I decided I wasn’t going to live that way. I’m embarrassed about it now, but my way out of poverty was to find a man with money. And I found your father.”
“Jerry,” Gianna said, putting the pieces together. She glanced over at Geraldine and noticed that her hands were shaking.
“Yes. He wasn’t homeless when I met him. He was a businessman—had a nice home, nice cars, he dressed nice—he had it all. We were planning on getting married and then he lost his job and my plans fell by the wayside. I couldn’t marry no man that didn’t have a job. I didn’t want to struggle. I was already pregnant with you. He didn’t know it at the time, but I was. How was I supposed to have a baby with a broke man?” Geraldine crossed her legs. Took a breath. “I panicked—went into survival mode and went on the search for another man that had money. Wasn’t hard to do. Men think with the brain they have downstairs. The other one is useless. So, they see a good-looking, light-skinned woman come prancing along—your mama could get any man she wanted. But eventually, seemed the money always ran out, so I found myself bouncing from man to man until I met the man who could give me the financial freedom and stability I deserved. His name was—”
“Let me stop you right there,” Gianna said, thoroughly disgusted. “I don’t care what his name was. I didn’t come here to get lessons on how to be a hoe.”
For a moment, Geraldine wanted to snap – to remind Gigi of who it was she was talking to and demand respect – all that crap she used to do in the past. Instead, she maintained her composure and said, “Right,” sounding defeated.
“What’s going on in your brain that you think the only way to find happiness in life is to find a man with money to shack up with and live off of? Why couldn’t you have gone to college and figured out a way to make a life for yourself?”
“College…” She shook her head. “You gotta have money to go to college and my mother was poor. You can’t save money for college when you have to eat and keep the lights on.”
“Even still, Geraldine, there’re grants, loans—you could have entered the workforce even without a college degree. What shame is there in starting at the bottom and working your way up?”
“Doing what?” Geraldine said, heated. “I had no skills. I was flirting with the idea of stripping before I met your dad.”
Stripping? Gianna’s eyes flashed disappointment. Felt like she was talking to a child. “Everybody has a skill or something they’re good at, Geraldine, and I’m sure shaking your butt while men throw one-dollar bills doesn’t classify as a talent.”
Geraldine uncrossed her legs and rec
rossed them the opposite way. With nostrils flared, she asked, “You think just because you know how to bake them silly cupcakes that everyone has a talent?”
Ignoring the ‘silly’ comment, Gianna said, “Yes. I do believe we all have something we’re good at—something we can do to make money without relying on someone else to hand you a paycheck. My husband is good at designing buildings.”
Geraldine didn’t add to the subject of Gianna’s husband. She knew Ramsey didn’t like her. There was no need to stir the coals to that fire.
“Look, I think we’re getting off topic,” Gianna said. “The truth is, no child should have to suffer the way me and Gemma suffered.”
“You’re right. You are absolutely right and I apologized to you for that right as we began this discussion, Gianna. So, why can’t you let it go?” Geraldine threaded her hands together. Gold rings overlapping gold rings on old-looking fingers. “All this happened years ago. You’re grown. Married. Gemma’s grown and married. At some point, you have to let it go.”
“It’s so easy for the offender to ask somebody to let something go.” Gianna frowned. Tears easily came to her eyes. “This has affected me my entire life, Geraldine. You don’t understand how all I wanted was to be normal, but I couldn’t be normal. I had to be a provider and a caregiver. I had to take care of Gem. I never understood how, as a mother, you could detach from your kids and put a man or your dreams of living a wealthy, fabulous life ahead of your children. Honestly, the wealth, the money—it doesn’t matter when it’s all said and done. Relationships matter. Your children matter. I couldn’t begin to comprehend the thought of abandoning my daughter like you abandoned me and Gemma.” Gianna sniffled, pinching tears from her eyes.
“I don’t know what else to say,” Geraldine admitted. “I’m sorry.”
“Are you?”
Geraldine’s leg bounced up and down. Hands were still shaking. “If I could take it back—have a lil’ do-over, maybe things will be different.”
Gianna wasn’t buying that line. It was easy for someone to say what they would do in hindsight simply because they didn’t have a chance to prove it. It was all words. All coulda, shoulda, wouldas. If Geraldine wanted to make their situation better, she needed to lay out how she would repair their non-existent relationship going forward – not talk about what she should have done back in the day.
“Unfortunately, you can’t go back and fix anything. None of us can. You have to focus on what you can do right now and going forward to fix this.”
Geraldine’s hands fidgeted as she said, “I’ve developed an alcohol problem over the years. Half the time, I’m not myself.”
More excuses. Gianna heaved a sigh and placed her hand on her stomach. Her growing baby kept her calm. “Have you tried to get help?”
“No, but it’s on the agenda. I’m not sure where to begin.”
“Do you want help?”
Geraldine stood up. Stretched. Walking back and forth in front of Gianna, she explained, “I do. I don’t want to be this person anymore, Gianna. I want my family back.”
“Then if that’s true, you have a lot of repairing to do, but guess what? That all starts with you.”
“I know…gotta start somewhere, right?” She turned her back to Gianna and stared out into the greenery. The peaceful surroundings. The birds chirped. Children played. People were still jogging. “I want to be there for my grandchild. I want to be a mother to you and Gemma.”
Gianna wasn’t sure how to take this or what to make of it. She wanted to believe her but history showed she’d be let down once again. “Maybe you should reach out to an AA support group.”
“Yes. I’ll do that,” Geraldine said. “I also thought about some counseling.”
“It wouldn’t hurt. In the meantime, just know it’s going to take a long time to repair the damage you’ve done so don’t expect us to welcome you back into our lives so easily.”
“I understand. All I want to know is that I have a chance to get back.”
“There is a chance, but it’s all riding on what you do from this point forward.”
“Understood.”
Gianna glanced up at her. She still couldn’t believe this woman was the same woman who was acting a pure fool in the hospital when Gemma was sick. Now, she was practically begging for a second chance.
* * *
Gianna browsed the shops on the strip, waiting for Gemma to arrive back in Lake Norman. They were going to meet for lunch then go back to Gemma’s place to do some decorating and organizing. Gianna stepped out of a gift shop called Heart & Soul where she’d purchased a birthstone necklace for herself and Gemma when she saw Gemma pull up in her Jeep Compass and parallel park on the street like a pro. She hadn’t been driving long, but from the looks of things, she learned pretty fast.
She waited for her to get out then wrapped her in a smothering embrace. “Look at you all grown up,” Gianna said, “And kudos for not hitting that light pole.”
Gianna giggled. “You’re never going to let me live that down, are you?” Gemma said, referring to the time she backed Royal’s Tesla into a light pole.
“I’m only kidding. You’re driving really well—can definitely parallel park better than me. I’d still be sitting there with my blinkers on trying to determine if my car would fit.”
Gemma laughed.
“I’m so serious. I even bumped somebody’s car once and took off.”
“Oooh…aren’t you dangerous,” Gemma quipped.
“Whatevs. Hey, I bought you something.” Gianna took out the birthstone necklace and handed it to her.
“Thank you,” Gemma said, admiring the piece. She immediately put it on, then the women headed to the restaurant.
“So, guess who I met up with today.”
“Who? Ramsey? And then y’all locked the office door and went at it.” Gemma laughed.
“No. Get your mind out of the gutter. I met with Geraldine today.” Gianna opened the door to the restaurant, allowing Gemma to enter first.
Gemma gasped and placed a hand over her heart. “You didn’t…”
“I did, and I have to say I was shocked by her demeanor.”
They sat at the table where they had a good view of the street. Upon being asked by a waitress, they both settled for salad and for their drinks, fresh lemonade.
“I can’t believe you met with Geraldine Crawford,” Gemma said. “Was she wearing all white again?”
“What’s wrong with her wearing white? I suppose that’s better than her in all black.”
“No kidding.”
Gianna grinned. “But no, she wasn’t wearing white. She actually looked normal in a jeans and blouse kinda way. I was surprised.”
“What about the rings? Was she blinged out again?”
Gianna smirked. “Yeah, she still had the rings, girl.”
“The last time I talked to her, she told me I needed to wear a wig. My hair wasn’t as long as it is now,” Gemma said, playing in her curls, deciding she liked it much better when Royal did it. “And then she was attempting to speak Spanish—telling the waiter she wanted a mucho margarito—not margarita—margarito.”
Gianna laughed. “I shouldn’t be laughing. She told me today that she has a drinking problem.”
“Really, because you can’t blame everything on alcohol.”
Hands up, Gianna said, “Hey, don’t shoot the messenger. I’m just telling you what she said. I’m not sure if I believe her just yet. Some people are naturally crazy. They don’t need alcohol or anything else.”
“So true.”
Gianna sipped lemonade right after the waitress set the glass in front of her. “Mmm...so good.”
“It is,” Gemma said after tasting hers, “Although I better not drink it all. Royal would have a stroke.”
Gianna smiled. “Hey, did Geraldine ever tell you who your father was?”
“She did. A man named Logan Spriggs, and before you ask, no, I didn’t look for him. I don’t want to, a
t least not yet, anyway.”
Gianna nodded understanding completely. “Anyway, I don’t know if he’s serious, but Geraldine says she’s going to get help…says she wants to be a part of our lives.”
“Eh…I’ll believe it when I see it,” Gemma said.
“My thoughts exactly.” Gianna rubbed her stomach.
“How’s everything with the baby?”
“She’s growing little by little every day. Ramsey is in love with her already.”
“Well, that’s not surprising considering how madly in love he’s in with you.”
A smile lit up Gianna’s face. “Yeah, just like Royal is madly in love with you.”
Gemma smiled. Blushed. “He is, isn’t he?”
“Yep.”
When the salad arrived, Gemma started on hers right away, then looked up at Gianna. “Hey, let me ask you something, and I hope it’s not too personal but when you and Ramsey make love, is he like—um…dominant? Aggressive? Take charge?”
Gianna raised a brow. “You hope that’s not too personal—talking about our sex lives?”
“Okay, I see what you mean but I just want to know.”
“Why?” Gianna questioned.
“Because when—” Gemma paused, glanced around to make sure no one was in earshot of her then continued in a careful, low tone, “When Royal makes love to me, Gianna I swear it feels like an out-of-body experience. I feel like my body isn’t mine—like he has ownership of my soul. Like I’ve died and he gives me life with his love. Jeez, I’m getting hot just thinking about it.”
“That’s why you’re turning red?” Gianna laughed.
Gemma was chuckling, too, while she fanned herself.
“That must be a St. Claire thing because I feel the same way when I’m with Ramsey. It’s so intense—like just when I think I’ve had enough, he triggers something inside of me that stimulates me for more. And Ramsey—goodness—he’s so thorough. A straight-up perfectionist. He’s so attentive to every move my body makes. I swear he can read my mind.”
