Ramsey

by Tina Martin

  “You’ve never seen me furious. You don’t know that look. I’m more upset right now than anything else and that’s because you lied to me.”

  “I didn’t lie to you, Ramsey. I just didn’t tell you where I was going.”

  “As far as I’m concerned that’s the same thing.” He frowned slightly. “For future reference, when I ask you where you are or what your plans are, I want to know everything—not bits and pieces. Do you understand?”

  “Yes,” Gianna replied because offering a rebuttal at this point would take more energy out of her than carrying a baby.

  “And of all people, you met with Geraldine? The crazy, psycho chick whose mere presence threw you into a panic attack? That Geraldine? The liar? The woman who toys with people’s emotions like it’s one of her hobbies? The woman who left you and Gemma to fend for yourselves when you were growing up? That Geraldine?”

  Ramsey stood up and put his hands in his pockets, pacing the floor. “Listen, I’m not trying to chastise you—”

  “That’s what it feels like.”

  He stopped pacing. Looked at her. “How else am I suppose to relay to you what I’m feeling at the moment? The fact of the matter is, you didn’t tell me about this secret meeting because you knew I wouldn’t allow it, and for good reason. What if Geraldine went nuts again and threw you into another anxiety attack?”

  “That didn’t happen, Ramsey.”

  “I know that didn’t happen,” he said raising his voice a pitch, “But what if it did? That’s my point. And what did she want, anyway?”

  “She—she wanted to apologize to me…said she wants to be a part of the baby’s life.”

  He chuckled in disbelief. “That’s not going to happen…just like you’re never meeting up with the lady again.”

  “Ramsey—”

  “You are my wife. My responsibility and that baby you’re carrying is my responsibility.”

  “I know that—”

  “And I thought I made myself clear to you the last time you tried to do things independently of me. It doesn’t work that way anymore, Gianna. You cannot take things on your shoulders, say you’ll deal with them and completely cut me out of the picture. You did that when I told you I’d make sure Gemma got to that Atlanta hospital when she was sick and you’re still doing it. Stop trying so hard to fight my headship and let me have what’s rightfully mine. You, your heart, your trust—faith that I know what’s right for you. For us. I can lead this family in the right direction, but not if you’re constantly working against me.”

  Ramsey stared at her for a moment more, then said, “That’s all I have to say.” He exited the room. Some things he didn’t understand about women. He was all set to give Gianna the world, yet she wanted to forge her own path. It was the result of marrying a smart, strong, independent woman, he knew, but she would have to learn to trust him. There was no way around it.

  Chapter 6

  Gianna was at the bakery today icing red velvet cupcakes while replaying last night’s conversation with Ramsey. She couldn’t concentrate. She messed up a few cupcakes and had to make more batches of cream cheese frosting. Ramsey had it all wrong. She did trust him. Her problem was that she still had the independent spirit about herself and she wasn’t accustomed to dealing with his strong, take-charge personality as well as she should have been – at least by now. He was dominant in every way a man could display the trait. She realized he tried to turn it down for her but at times, like last night, he couldn’t, especially when he felt he needed to get a point across.

  This morning, she heard him get up for work, but she stayed in bed as long as she could to avoid being in his way. He finally woke her up around 8:30, the time he usually left for work. She usually left at around 9:00. Lately, 9:15. Anyway, he’d left her vitamins on the nightstand, given her a kiss and told her he loved her – the norm – but she could still feel his frustration and that made her tense. Not to mention he hadn’t bothered eating a single cupcake she’d made for dessert last night.

  When she heard the doorbell chime, Gianna walked from the back and saw Gemma walking into the bakery wearing a pair of black and white leggings with a long, yellow tunic. Her hair looked damp. Freckles cute. Curls poppin’. She had on a pair of silver, hoop earrings and the birthstone necklace that Gianna had purchased for her.

  “Hey, sis. You look beautiful today.”

  “Thanks,” Gemma said. “So do you.”

  “Please…you don’t have to lie. I’m wearing a hairnet and I feel like a pack of Twinkies.”

  Gemma laughed. “Aw, Gianna.” She walked behind the counter and gave her sister a shoulder rub. “Little sister is here to help.”

  “Don’t you supposed to be at work?”

  “I’m off today. I’m supposed to be home working on the mission statement for the Gemma Jacobsen Foundation. Shh…don’t tell Royal.” She giggled. “Now, what can I do? Do you need some cupcakes frosted? Tell me what you need.”

  “Can you make some fresh coffee?”

  “Yes. Fresh coffee, coming right up.” Gemma dumped the old coffee filter and started a new brew. “All done with that. What else?”

  “Can you work the register for a minute? I need to take a break. My feet hurt.”

  “Sure, sis. Go take a load off. I got this.”

  “Thanks.” Gianna stepped into her office, closed the door and sat at her desk literally holding her head up with her hands. Her feet didn’t hurt, but her head did. She was hyper-aware of how quickly her relationship with Ramsey had developed so quickly and became what it is now – not to say their whirlwind romance was the cause of this argument. She loved her husband, but the marriage, pregnancy, running the bakery, dealing with Geraldine and wanting to deepen her relationship with her father was all taking a toll on her physically. She definitely didn’t need the stress. Having a baby was supposed to be a joyful time for parents. While she was happy, all of these changes would take some getting used to, and that was the frustrating part about all of it. She wasn’t all that used to being married, to having a protector – a man at her beck and call – so how would she get used to the pregnancy, being a mother while running a business and trying to mend broken relationships with her parents?

  “Hey, cupcake, you have a visitor,” Gemma said peeping around the door.

  Gianna’s heartbeat instantly pounded harder at the thought of that visitor being Ramsey. She wasn’t in the right frame of mind to talk to him right now. Her thoughts were scattered. Mind in a million places at once. Rehashing an argument and hearing Ramsey preach on and on about how it’s his responsibility to do this and that would only worsen her tension headache.

  “Who is it?” she finally asked.

  “It’s Jerry.”

  “Oh.” Shrew. “Tell him to come on back.”

  “Okay.”

  Gianna sat up, took a sip of water and attempted a series of fake smiles to mask the flustered look on her face just in time to see Jerry appear in the doorway.

  “Hey, Jerry.”

  “Hey, daughter.”

  “You look nice this afternoon,” she told him. He had on a pair of black jeans and a black polo. “Are you on your lunch break?”

  “Yes…figured I’d swing by here to see what my only daughter was up to.” Jerry had recently settled into his role as a sales associate at an auto parts store on Tryon Street, near Sugar Creek. It wasn’t a lucrative job by any stretch of the imagination, but he enjoyed it.

  “I’m baking my butt off—the norm. What about you? Are you enjoying working again?”

  “I am. It feels good to get back out here and do something in this world. I have you and St. Claire to thank for that.”

  Gianna smiled. Jerry had always called Ramsey by his last name. It was Ramsey who figured out Jerry was her father. And he also bought Jerry a new wardrobe and took him to the barber to get a fresh cut.

  “Are you running into any issues with the house?” Gianna inquired. Jerry was living in her house –
the place she lived before she married Ramsey.

  “No. Everything is still like it was.”

  “And you have food and everything?”

  Jerry chuckled. “Now, don’t you be worrying about me, sugar. You have enough to worry about right there in your belly.”

  Gianna rested a hand on her stomach and smiled. “Yes, I do.”

  “Is everything okay with my grandbaby?”

  “Yes. All is well with this little girl.”

  “And what about you?”

  Gianna glanced up at him. “Everything is okay with me.”

  “Are you sure about that?” Jerry asked.

  Gianna flashed a weak smile, then watched Jerry sit in the chair next to her desk.

  He sighed, took a quick glance at the clock up high on the wall and said, “I never told you this, Gianna, but the reason I started coming to this bakery so frequently had nothing to do with me wanting cupcakes. Now, don’t get me wrong—your cupcakes are delicious and kept me coming back for more, but I remember one of the first times I came by here. You were sitting on the floor crying your pretty little eyes out. You looked like you were in deep distress—like whatever you were going through at the time was so bad, you couldn’t see your way out of it. I didn’t know what to do about it. There I was, couldn’t even take care of myself…what was I going to do to help you? So, I did what I could do, and that was to keep an eye on you. That’s what I called myself doing—being there to make sure you were okay because you were so disturbed that day.”

  Gianna nodded, remembering that tumultuous time in her life.

  “I say that to say this—if you need to talk to your old man, and I don’t care what about, you know I’m here. I may not speak the best, but my intentions are pure.”

  Her weak smile was a dead giveaway of her troubles, Gianna knew, and seemed Jerry had a knack for noticing when something was bothering her.

  “Now, tell me what’s going on.”

  “Jer—”

  “Ain’t no need in denying it,” Jerry interrupted. “I can see the trouble in your eyes.”

  Gianna considered all that was going on in her life and debated on which aspect of it she could share with him. She said, “It’s a combination of things. Back then, I thought I was on the verge of a nervous breakdown going through all the health issues with Gemma, but now I feel just as much pressure, if not more, with the expectations of being a mother and fulfilling my role as a wife. And then Geraldine reached out to me—said she wants to be a part of the baby’s life. Told me she had a drinking problem...”

  “Well, she ain’t lying about that. Even when we were together, she had an alcohol problem.”

  “Really? All those years ago?”

  “She did. I tried to get her some help, but Geraldine always did what Geraldine wanted. She never took anyone else’s feelings into consideration.”

  “Question…if she’s always been that way, how did you bring yourself to love her so much, Jerry?”

  Jerry paused reflectively. “The heart wants what the heart wants and boy did I fall for her. She was beautiful—still is. She didn’t have much in the way of common sense, but I thought her beauty was enough to make up for the fact that she was a little cuckoo, you know. Then, I started seeing her how ugly her actions were and her beauty no longer mattered to me. She would throw tantrums if I didn’t buy something she wanted or if she didn’t get her way. I remember once, she took some grocery and bill money I gave her, went to the mall and bought a five-hundred-dollar purse. You tell me—what sense is there in toting around a five-hundred-dollar purse when you ain’t got a dime to put in it?”

  Gianna chuckled until tears came to her eyes.

  Jerry laughed, too, then continued, “Whenever I didn’t cave and give her what she wanted, she’d get to drinking.”

  “She told me she wants to get help.”

  “People can say whatever they want. What are they doing though? If you say you need to bake some cream cheese carrot cupcakes, but you sit back here in the office all day, how are the cupcakes going to get baked?”

  “I see your point.”

  “Don’t let Geraldine stress you out. Honestly, I don’t trust her, and neither does St. Claire.”

  “How do you know that?”

  “When he saw us in the parking lot that day,” Jerry whistled. “He was burning mad…told Geraldine to her face she was heartless and how glad he was that you were nothing like her.” Jerry stood up, keeping all kind of noises that sounded like a blend of yawns and old-age screeches.

  “You gotta go?”

  “Yeah, better be getting back to the job before the boss man comes looking for me.”

  “Wait.” Gianna got up from her desk and walked to the kitchen where she picked up a half-dozen, packaged cupcakes and handed the box to him just like old times.

  Jerry pulled out his wallet.

  “What are you doing?” she asked.

  He took out a ten-dollar bill and said, “I’m working now, sweet thang. I can afford to buy them.”

  “You know you don’t have to, Jerry.”

  “I want to,” he said, handing her the money. “Take it.”

  “Jerry—”

  “I insist.”

  Gianna took the money only because he persisted. “Thank you.”

  “Thank you. Have a good day, daughter.”

  “You, too, Jerry.” She smiled as he walked away.

  Chapter 7

  Things between Ramsey and Gianna remained tense.

  Ramsey was suited impeccably, dressed to the nines for work again, standing next to the bed again, looking at Gianna before he woke her up. And when he did wake her, he gave her a kiss on the lips today before jogging downstairs. He took his coffee along with a ham and cheese bagel to-go instead of having his morning chat with Carson.

  Sitting at his desk looking at the Paris sketch again, he pulled his glasses away from his face and rubbed his eyes. Around the same time, Judy came inside.

  “Here’s your coffee, Sir. I took the liberty of putting it in a thermos since you have an off-site meeting this morning.”

  Brows furrowed, he asked, “An off-site meeting where?” He scrambled to look at his calendar.

  “At the University City apartments with Ralph Sheppard.”

  “How did I forget that?” he asked, but he knew how. His days had been off since he and Gianna weren’t exactly meshing. He glanced at his watch. It was already a quarter past ten.

  “I’ll call Ralph and let him know you’re running behind.”

  “Thanks, Judy.” Ramsey took the thermos from his desk and headed to the elevator. He was one of those people who took pride in practicing what he preached. He was punctual and expected the same from his employees. He wasn’t one of those do-as-I-say-not-as-I-do bosses. He led by example. So for him to be late for anything, even a simple site meeting, had him upset with himself.

  At least the site wasn’t that far away. St. Claire Architects was located on IBM Drive, and since the completion of the new overpass over I-85 that connected IBM Drive to Ikea Boulevard, he arrived at the apartment site on University City Boulevard in less than ten minutes.

  “Please excuse my tardiness,” he told Ralph as soon as he exited the truck.

  “No worries, Sir. I was sitting here eating breakfast and looking at all the businesses going up around here. It’s amazing. Outback is here now. A Starbucks just opened, Culver’s, and I hear they’re building a fancy, new Mexican restaurant over there.”

  “Yeah. This area has seen an explosion of growth over the last six months.” Ramsey looked around, taking in the landscaping of the apartment complex. Already he saw something that made his temple pulsate. Did Ralph see it, too? “What were your concerns about the landscaping again?”

  “It wasn’t necessarily that I had any concerns, Sir. I wanted you to take a look at the new landscaping features CitySites added to this building compared to work they’ve done for us in the past.”

 
“Right.” Ramsey dropped his hands into his pockets, annoyed that Ralph—a project manager—didn’t pick up on the brown grass. Why was there brown grass? This was a luxury apartment building. The grass was supposed to be green. Lustrous. Not brown and depressing. Maybe it was a small detail to some, but not to him.

  “Take a look at the tropical plants. Keep in mind CitySites are scheduled to return and plant the spring plants in a few weeks. I also had them line the sidewalk for the leasing office entrance with perennials. What do you think?”

  “I like the perennials and the tropical plants give the place personality and style, for sure, but what’s up with the brown grass?”

  “That, I’m not sure about but I can check with Craig.”

  “You do that. I pay top dollar for premium grass, so I want grass that stays green all year round. I never want to roll up to one of our properties and see brown grass.”

  “Yes, Sir. I’ll get right on that as soon as I’m back at the office.”

  The men took a full lap around the structure. Besides the grass issue, the rest of the landscaping was up to Ramsey’s standards. “It’s certainly a change from the norm, but I like what they did here. All I need you to do is take care of the grass issue for me and if they give you any pushback, get Royal on it. I’m going to be away for the rest of the day.”

  “All right, Sir. Thanks for swinging by.”

  “No problem,” Ramsey told him. “I won’t be late next time.”

  * * *

  Ramsey left the site heading outbound on Tryon Street towards JW Clay Boulevard – destination – his woman. He made a left on J M Keynes Drive, found a park near the bakery and got out walking with purpose for the door. He nodded at a few people as he approached. When he pulled the handle to the entrance, the aroma of the place hit him – smelled like chocolate, cinnamon and sweetness. He glanced at the chalkboard on the wall seeing the cupcake of the day – the banana cream cupcake – then he looked at the drink display fridge. It was stocked with milk and water. The coffee was made, the ‘open’ sign illuminated and the tip jar was displayed on the counter. It was quiet inside except for the rattling of pans in the back and the soft music coming from the speakers. Most of the bakery’s morning customers were just in and out, grabbing coffee and a cupcake on the way to their various jobs. That was good for Gianna – it would give her time to do more uninterrupted baking. However, Ramsey didn’t like the fact that she was in the back while she had customers sitting out in the front.