Crossroads: An Anthology

by LaShaun, Elizabeth

  Tabitha smiled as Trustee Johnson helped her down from the pulpit. They passed the first pew when her husband grabbed her arm. Trustee Johnson went into attack mode when she grabbed his hand, stopping him.

  “Let it go, Cream,” she told him with weary eyes and walked away.

  Making it to her son, she embraced him with all her might, cleansing both of them.

  Epilogue

  Ms. Mary smiled as she stirred the greens on the stove. She had known since days after Riley and Stacy met that they would be together. She never doubted it when they went their separate ways. “God’s will shall be done,” she said as she checked the turkey in the oven. “Mama, what are you in here cooking,” Riley asked when he entered the kitchen.

  “None ya,” she chuckled and hit his hand when he tried to peep into the pot.

  “You know you’re being selfish right,” Riley laughed.

  “Mr. Fashion Designer can you please go pick up Mrs. Literary Agent so she can get ready.”

  “Yes ma’am,” Riley laughed before quickly looking into the pot.

  On the way to the airport, Riley was in awe as he thought about the past year. He had started his own clothing line at the insistence of Stacy. The line was doing great. He couldn’t wait to see Stacy and increased the speed of the Altima. She was a literary agent now and was flying in from a tour she had done with one of her authors. He missed her immensely and couldn’t wait to get her back home.

  ***

  The airplane was waiting for a gate for almost ten minutes. Stacy decided to read a magazine to pass time. Oh my god, she looks just like Janelle she thought, becoming melancholy. Janelle had committed suicide the night of the disastrous premier. Stacy shook her head sadly as she thought about her actually putting the blow dryer in the shower. Grabbing her blackberry she prepared to text Riley, but noticed she had an email. It was from Chad; he was one of her clients and was now on tour with another suspense author DK Gaston. Riley didn’t have a problem with Chad being her client. He knew she loved him, but he would never let her go on tour with him, she was sure. She would never want to go either. After responding to Chad’s email, she read Ms. Mary’s email and was laughing so hard there were tears in her eyes. The email simply read, ‘Get your butt home.’

  ***

  “Can you please hand me that bottle,” Chantrese asked the little girl in her class. She now worked at a daycare for children born addicted to drugs. Chantrese had begun working there after having her drug addicted son.

  “Trese Ray looks like he wants to crawl,” Tiffany a fellow teacher joked as she entered the classroom.

  Chantrese laughed and told her she thought so as well. She enjoyed spending time with the children was excited to be able to talk with an adult.

  “Girl I love her hair do,” Tiffany began anew showing her the magazine. Frozen with fear, Chantrese’s mind began to swirl. It can’t possibly be her, Chantrese thought looking at the model who appeared to be Janelle.

  Chantrese was at the show the night Janelle committed suicide. Her therapist and counselors had told her not too but she wanted and needed closure, and had planned on talking to Janelle. Tiffany keyed on Chantrese’s mood and grabbed the baby her co-worker was holding. Frantically flipping through the magazine Chantrese read the article about the model. The woman was in fact Janelle’s paternal sister. The article went on to say that Chloe didn’t learn about her sister until her death. Chantrese became physically sick as Chloe went on to say how great of a person Janelle was and how her sister was too good for this world. Humph, she destroyed lives and had no regard for the effects her actions and scheming would have on people, Chantrese thought angrily.

  And you do, her mind asked her. You have made decisions without regarding other people’s feelings. A heavy sigh escaped Chantrese’s lip. She wished she had never seen the magazine, so she shouldn’t have to think about her dark past. Yes, she made some decisions that she wasn’t sure of, but she just wanted the drama to end. It might not be his child, she screamed at her irritating heart. Yeah right. He looks just like him and you know it. Ray, boy wonder where you got that name from, her mind laughed at her.

  Before Chantrese could give her situation any more thought she was literally saved by the bell, the school bell. Yes Ray looked like Riley but she was not one hundred percent sure it was his son and there was no reason for her to get him involved in her life again.

  ***

  Chad did not understand everything his mother was saying when she left Fellowship Baptist, but at this moment he did. They were burying his father, who was murdered from a single gunshot to the head. Chad had love for his father, but he did not love his father. During the service the words, only for a season repeatedly ran across his mind. His felt his mother squeeze his hand and looked over to see her smiling at him. Kissing her on the cheek, he continued to scan the congregation and noticed Stacy and Riley.

  He always knew he and Stacy would have a connection, but he never thought it would be a professional one. She was happy, which made him happy. A small part of him wanted to rekindle a relationship with her but the small bump in her belly and the love that shone in her eyes when she mentioned Riley let him know it would never be. Yes this was definitely the season for Chad Toplin to be happy being Chad Toplin. Looking at the mahogany coffin he had to admit that he had his mother, Stacy, but most of all his father to thank for making him the man he was today; a strong man, a wiser man.

  ***

  Riley sat in the church feeling nothing. He was here only in support of his fiancé. Many of his friends and even Miss Mary couldn’t believe that he didn’t have a problem with Chad being her client. Riley couldn’t lie, at first he did feel insecure about Stacy working with Chad. She had loved the man deeply at one time and he was her first. Stacy had asked him to read Chad’s book and if he still felt uncomfortable she wouldn’t be his agent. Riley had to admit it was a great book and understood why Stacy wanted to work with him.

  Never willing to admit this to anyone, Riley had so much to thank Chad for. His mistake gave him his soon to be wife and unborn daughter. The book was a bestseller and put Stacy on the map in the literary game. Did he still have ridiculous thoughts at times, yes, he was human. But he worked with beautiful, at times naked, women all the time and his fiancé trusted him so he could do the same. I am still watching him though, Riley thought locking eyes with Chad. He had full trust in Stacy. Chad was a different story. He had made it through a lot, but Riley was still a young man from the ghetto that could return to his roots if need be.

  The Prerequisites of Perdition

  by Keith K. Williams

  I dedicate the Prerequisites of Perdition to the Readers in Motion Book Club, the first book club to show me real love and support. It was through your website that I met my amazing co-authors who have become family in every sense of the word. Without YOU, there would be no Crossroads. My heart has been broken for a while. On the days when the pain of its wounds have bothered me more that usual, you all have taken turns being the ones to ease it…. I’ll always love you, members old and new. Thank you.

  PART 1

  Welcome to the Morning Perk

  The patrons of the Morning Perk Diner were absolutely ravenous. Some scarfed down food like savages as they kept their eyes on the time pieces on their wrists. Others gulped down piping hot coffee to burn the last remnants of sleep from over-worked, fatigued bodies. A few stuffed their mouths with sweet pastries to get the sugar rush they needed to keep them going. This was the early morning rush.

  Everyone seemed to be running late except for Nash. He ate his breakfast slowly and was in no hurry to be anywhere else. He’d already called in to his office to let them know that he was running late. His mind was so preoccupied that he didn’t even notice Jasmine, his waitress, as she refilled his coffee cup for the third time. Normally, such a juicy, shapely woman would have warranted a lust-filled look from him; especially the way her uniform hugged her hips. Even she was surprised tha
t today, he paid her no mind. She almost overfilled his cup as she studied his face. His expression was anxious and his eyes never left the front door of the diner. Nash was one of her regular customers, usually friendly and flirtatious, so his behavior struck her as odd. She figured that he must have been having some sort of personal problems. She shrugged and moved on to take the breakfast order of the man in the booth behind him that seemed to have turned it into his own personal office.

  While everyone else was buzzing around him, Nash felt like he was trapped in a bubble where time stubbornly stood still. The more anxious he became, the more he felt like a creep. He sat there, eating his breakfast as slow as a snail, late for work, waiting for someone to come into the diner who probably wasn’t even thinking about him at all. As this realization dawned on him, he didn’t know if he should be angry with himself or just feel stupid. He pushed away his plate of unfinished food and signaled for Jasmine to bring his bill. Just as he was about to stand to leave, disgruntled and frustrated, Brenda Swan walked into the diner and ordered a cup of hot chocolate with whipped cream. Finally, his wait was over.

  “Where’re the kids today?” Fats, the owner of the diner asked Brenda. He found it strange that she was alone because every morning, without fail, she always walked in to have breakfast with her two little boys as well as her pet Shih-Tzu tucked away safely in its designer bag. Fats hated her bringing the miniature mongrel into his establishment but, even though he owned the business, Brenda’s husband owned the building. Nash sat back down. He went back to babysitting his cold breakfast and wondering the same thing that Fats had asked.

  “They’re fine,” Brenda answered without really answering the question.

  Fats recognized how hastily she dodged the question so he immediately dropped the subject. He was three months late on the rent so he wasn’t exactly keen on angering his landlord’s wife.

  Nash tipped back his cup and gulped down his coffee. Even from afar he could tell that something had her on edge. Jasmine tried to pour him more coffee but he waived her off and paid his bill instead. He pretended to be interested in his food but continued to keep a keen eye on Brenda. Something was definitely wrong. Her thick, jet black hair was usually neat and perfectly styled. Now, it hung wildly and uncombed over her shoulders. This morning she hadn’t bothered to straighten it. A good portion of it was draped in her face, not unlike the dark curtains of a theater. She made no effort to brush it away either, almost as if she didn’t want anyone to see her face. Usually, her clothes were as neat and stylish as her hair. Her smooth, honey-colored skin was always covered in classy designer fashion and no one could mistake her for not being a woman of wealth. Today, dressed in her tight jeans and plain white T-shirt, she resembled one of the kids from the nearby college campus.

  Brenda paid for her hot chocolate and slowly sipped it until it was done. Even her posture suggested that something was amiss. She sat hunched over the front counter of the diner. After the last sip, she wiped the excess cream from her mouth with her hand and wrist, no regard for her watch. From the way the diamonds reflected the early morning sunlight, it must have been worth a small fortune. It probably cost at least two year’s salary for most of the other patrons of the Morning Perk. She waved goodbye to Fats and without another word to anyone else, Brenda walked out. Nash immediately got up out of his seat and followed her, trying his best to remain inconspicuous.

  PART 2: Pursuit

  As Brenda walked ahead of him, Nash was very careful not to let her know that he was following her. Again, he found himself feeling like a creep and a stalker. He failed to fully understand why he had always been so obsessed with this woman and he was equally unsuccessful subduing the shame he felt because of it.

  Brenda wouldn’t have noticed if the ground collapsed behind her as she strolled along aimlessly. She was lost so deep within herself that she didn’t even feel alive. Now she understood how ghosts felt as they lingered, lonely and intangible. As everyone went about their morning routine, no one even seemed to take notice of her as she wandered into Swan Park. That is, no one except for the man that followed her.

  With every step Nash took behind Brenda, he felt worse and worse. He knew that following her around like a stalker was wrong on many different levels but he couldn’t stop himself. He was drawn to her even though he knew that his obsession was unhealthy. Fear of discovery kept his heart racing until he followed her into the park. He relaxed once he passed through its gates and found himself under the protection of the shade provided by the towering trees. With so many people in the park enjoying the sunny, spring weather, it was unlikely that she would take notice of him. As he kept moving forward with his eyes on her, he blindly walked into a flock of geese pecking at scattered bread crumbs. The birds avoided being trampled by his feet but he nearly bumped into the man who had been feeding them. In life, there are people that you make eye contact with and realize that they are not to be trifled with. The man that Nash had almost carelessly crashed into was definitely one of those people. This man coldly stared back and made no effort to step aside. Nash decided it was best if he just went around.

  As their shoulders touched, an abnormal, eerie chill swirled in the air. Nash didn’t look back as he continued on his way although he felt the enigmatic stranger’s eyes on his back

  Nash continued on his obsessive, creepy quest and as Brenda reached the opposite end of the park, a strange thing happened. Out of nowhere, without a cloud in the sky, it started to rain. Brenda covered her head with her hands and dodged a few cars as she ran across the street to the library. He watched her jog up the stairs and walk inside. He followed but then, another odd thing happened. As soon as he got to the steps, the spring sun shower suddenly stopped.

  The overwhelming noise of the streets outside seemed instantly muted as he quietly let the library door shut behind him. At first, he nearly panicked because he had no idea where Brenda had gone. He decided to inquire at the main desk where one of the librarians appeared to be engaged in an intense conversation with a tall, well-dressed dread. Nash politely interrupted and explained that he was supposed to be meeting someone. He gave the librarian whose name tag read STACY, Brenda’s description and she quickly pointed him in the right direction. She seemed incredibly annoyed and in a hurry to get back to her conversation which came across as very un-librarian-like on her part. They were usually polite, mild-mannered and most of all, patient. Whatever she was discussing with the man at the desk had to be something serious.

  Nash walked down one of the aisles and ended up at a quiet, deserted corner of the library. He spotted Brenda as she pulled a book off of the shelves and sat down at a table to open the huge hardcover she’d selected. He walked closer as she turned to some random chapter, somewhere in the middle and literally buried her face in the pages as if the book was a pillow. With her eyes closed he felt brave enough to get closer to her. He stood behind the table where she sat and pretended to search the shelves.

  This close to Brenda, what caught Nash’s attention was the fragrance she wore. It added spice and flavor to the musty air that circulated feebly in the library whose windows were rarely opened. It stood out from the scent of rotting paper and old wood. He couldn’t help but grin as it pleasantly reminded him of how his own mother used to smell. It caused the most pleasant memories to float to the surface of his psyche. Finally, he relaxed enough and made a very serious decision to sit down where she was. Nash didn’t want to startle her so he slipped stealthily into the chair opposite her at the table.

  Brenda appeared to be caught in the embrace of deep sleep with her face buried in the book. Her messy black hair spread across and contrasted with the off-white pages. It spread everywhere like ebony liquid that flowed freely from a dark fountain on her head. She was so still that she might have been dead or at least unconscious. In fact, as Nash pretended to read while watching her, she remained so still for so long that he became worried. Then, just as his anxiety built up to the point where he
was about to tap her on the shoulder, she popped up and looked around nervously. Her dreadfully dark and bloodshot eyes still managed to burn brightly, even from behind the tears that flowed ceaselessly from them. He imagined that she must have washed away all of the ink on the pages she had been using for a pillow. Her honey brown skin seemed to glow a little less than he remembered and her nose was red from crying. She wiped the tears from her eyes and then stared at Nash with a blank expression. His heart stopped.

  “Why’d you follow me here Nash?” Brenda asked. He fumbled for the right words before he spoke.

  “I was worried about you. You didn’t look right so I wanted to make sure you were alright,” Nash explained. Brenda laughed and then spoke with a voice laced with venomous sarcasm. “You were worried about me? Really? Since when?” she asked.

  “Since the first day we met,” he told her, hoping that she would sense how sincere he was being.

  She rolled her eyes in disgust but kept them fixed on him.

  “Is that so?” she answered.

  Nash recognized that nothing he could say would lessen her hostility. Today, her attitude could not, and would not be tamed so he asked the question that he had wanted to ask her since she walked into the Morning Perk Diner earlier.

  “Where are the boys?” he asked her. The question seemed to hit her like a sobering slap to the face. Brenda looked away from him and bit her bottom lip to keep herself from bursting into tears again. She covered her mouth with a hand that quivered uncontrollably. Now, the concern he’d felt before multiplied ten-fold. As he studied her face and the distant look in her eyes, he could tell that even though she sat right in front of him, she was lost. Nash reached out and touched her arm from across the table. This startled her and ripped her back to reality.