11
“Happy Birthday, Mama.”
Jamilah’s eyes lit up when she opened the decoratively colored foil paper. “Omolola, it’s beautiful. It’s so soft.” She rubbed the cashmere material of the sweater against her face.
“There’s a skirt that comes with it, too.” Alex didn’t have the heart to give her mother the stolen scarf, opting instead to keep it for herself and buy her mother something else.
“You shouldn’t have done this, Omolola. You can’t afford this now that you’re not working.”
“Of course I can. We’re not going to be in the poor house anytime soon. I have money in savings.”
“It’s called savings for a reason. It’s not that I don’t appreciate it, but you don’t need to spend your money on expensive things.”
“If I can’t spend my money to buy you something nice on your special day I wouldn’t be much of a daughter, would I?”
Jamilah hugged her. “This will be perfect for tonight.”
“Tonight?”
“Ade asked if he could take me out to dinner.”
“Oh.”
Jamilah laid the sweater and skirt aside. “I’m sorry. You didn’t have plans, did you?”
“Well, I just thought I’d take you to dinner.”
“Oh, Omolola. I could call Ade. I’m sure he’ll understand.”
Alex took her mother’s hands. “You don’t have to change your plans on my account. This is your day. You should spend it however you want. We can go to dinner another time. So, you and Ade, huh?”
“Don’t say it like that, Alexandra.”
“Like what?”
“Like we’re fooling around behind the high school bleachers.” Jamilah stood and moved to the mirror mounted on her bureau and fussed with her hair. “We’re mature adults who enjoy each other’s company.”
“Mama, I’m glad you found someone you could spend time with other than those biddies you play cards with.”
“They’re not biddies.” Jamilah laughed. “Well, maybe Ernie Mae is.” She picked up the sweater and skirt, held it up against her body, and preened in front of the mirror. “Not bad for fifty-eight, eh?”
Alex stood up behind her mother and pulled her hair up away from her neck. “When I’m your age I can only hope to look half as amazing. Now, why don’t we see if Miss Ernie Mae can look after Cerena while I treat you to a manicure and pedicure?”
“Omolola, you’ve done enough. You really don’t need to do anything else for me.”
“I know I don’t have to do it, Mama. I want to. Now don’t argue with me. It’s your birthday.”
In spite of the fact that Jamilah put up a fuss after luxuriating at the day spa, Alex managed to get her stylist to squeeze her in for a hair appointment. Several hours later Jamilah was primped and ready for a night on the town.
The doorbell rang.
“I’ll get it.” With a quick glimpse out the window Alex verified that it was Ade. She greeted him and invited him inside. “Mama is just finishing up. She should be out shortly.”
“It is all right,” Ade responded. “I do not mind waiting.”
“Would you like to sit down?”
He unbuttoned his suit jacket and sat. “Hello, little one,” he directed to Cerena, who was sitting up in her playpen, chewing on a teething ring.
Alex noted how graceful, even gentle, he seemed for a man of his stature. “My mother tells me that you’re from Nigeria?”
“Kandula. Very close to Abuja. My family came to the United States some years ago.”
“You recently lost your wife?”
“Yes, October, 2008.”
“I’m sorry to hear that.”
“Janette . . . your mother . . . has been a very pleasant companion. She is a charming woman.”
Jamilah made a show of her entrance. “My ears are burning. Is someone talking about me?”
Ade stood and nodded. “You are familiar with the Nigerian word meaning beautiful. It is jamilah.”
Alex looked at the surprise in her mother’s eyes and interrupted. “Uh, before you go, let me get a picture.” She dashed to her bedroom for a camera and came back as Ade was hustling Jamilah to the door.
“Wait. Can I get a picture first?”
Jamilah adjusted her wrap and stuck her arm into Ade’s, pulling him back into the room. Ade appeared apprehensive. “I usually do not like taking pictures.”
“Please,” Alex encouraged him.
“You’re a handsome man, Ade. Just this one. For me,” Jamilah implored.
Jamilah beamed and Ade smiled nervously. He turned his head slightly and looked off when the camera clicked. Alex instantly showed them the scan from her digital camera. “See, that wasn’t so bad.”
“Oh, Ade. You look like you’ve lost your best friend. It’s just a harmless photograph. Come now, Omolola. Take another one.”
“No,” Ade said firmly. “We should be going if we are to avoid the traffic.”
Alex shot Jamilah a look, but didn’t question Ade’s resistance. She saw them to the door and waved good-bye.
Once Jamilah and Ade were gone she laid the camera down on the coffee table, reached into the playpen, and picked Cerena up. “All right, my girl. Now that Nnenne is out for the evening what do you want to do? Do you wanna go outside for a while?”
Cerena’s indecipherable gurgles were taken as a yes. Alex grabbed a small cup of Cheerios from the cupboard and stepped out of the kitchen door that led out to an open patio. She sat with Cerena in her arms and fed her the snack. From her vantage point she could see the crest of the mountains to the west and the crimson glow of the sun balancing over the horizon like a giant air balloon.
“Do you think your father is looking at this very same sun right now?”
Her thoughts were interrupted and she was startled by the crunch of leaves and grass at the side of the house. She bounded from her lounge chair. “Who’s there?” She listened to the stillness and crept closer to the door. “Is anyone there?”
Just as she was about to dart back inside two squirrels scampered across the yard and up the side of a tree. She heaved a sigh of relief and decided to go back inside anyway.
After getting Cerena cleaned, changed, and settled, Alex went to the kitchen to find something to eat. She opened the refrigerator and pulled out some cold cuts, mayonnaise, mustard, and pickles, and tried to carry them to the counter all at once.
“Damn,” she spat as the jar of mayonnaise slipped from her hand and splattered across the tiled floor.
Hoping the noise hadn’t disturbed Cerena, she put the other items down, stepped around the broken glass, and grabbed a towel. Her nerves were rattled further when the doorbell rang. Abandoning the mess she crept close to the door. She wasn’t close enough to see out the window or the peephole, so she just stood in the arch between the kitchen and dining room waiting for whoever it was to go away. A knock followed. Practically every light was on in the house and her car was in the driveway. She couldn’t have pretended she wasn’t home if she wanted to. Glancing around the room her eyes locked on the alarm panel being disarmed, and a lump formed in her throat.
“Adriane?”
She threw her head back and exhaled at the recognition of John’s voice. Not giving thought to her appearance, she hurried to open the door.
“What have I told you about opening this door without verifying who it is?”
“You scared the shit out of me,” Alex countered nervously.
“I’m sorry. I was just driving through the neighborhood and I saw the lights on. I needed to see you.”
She flung herself into his arms and held on. “I’m so glad it’s you.”
“What’s wrong?”
“I’ve just been feeling a little jumpy tonight, that’s all.” She released her hold and he stepped into the house after her. She secured the locks and set the alarm.
“Are you here by yourself?”
“No. Cerena’s asleep. Weren’t you su
pposed to be with your kids?”
“I was. I just dropped them off. I really didn’t expect to find you home. I thought you said you were taking your mother out to dinner.”
“That was the plan. We spent the afternoon together, but she ditched me for Ade.”
“They’re getting pretty serious.”
“Seems to be.”
“What is that smell?” John said, sniffing the air. “Is that mayonnaise?”
Alex wiped her hands on the legs of her jeans and brushed the hairs of a loosely tied ponytail back behind her ears. “I was making a sandwich and broke ajar on the kitchen floor. I must’ve gotten some on me. I need to get cleaned up.
“Go ahead.” He smiled. “I’ll be here when you get back.”
John found a mop and bucket. While Alex went to clean up, he finished what she’d started. Twenty minutes later she came back into the living room, looking and smelling a sight better than she had been. She found John engrossed in the last quarter of a Lakers game. Neither his eyes nor his mind lingered on the game. He took her hand, pulled her into his lap, and they kissed.
“Hmmmm,” he sighed. “I’ve been thinking about doing that all day.”
“So have I,” she purred and inhaled the piney scent emanating from the kitchen. “You mopped?”
“All-purpose inspector at your service.”
“Oooh, I like a man who knows how to clean a house.”
He kissed her. “I know how to do a lot of things.”
“Yes, indeed you do.” She chuckled.
“I assume you still haven’t eaten?”
“I had a salad for lunch.”
“Well, what do you say we order a pizza?”
“That sounds great.”
Alex located a delivery in the neighborhood and ordered. She then fixed herself a drink.
“Would you like one?”
“I’ll take a beer if you have it.”
“I think there’s a few Corona in the refrigerator.”
“Sounds good. So, how’s the job search?”
She passed him a bottle of Corona and sat down next to him on the sofa. “I’ve got an interview at an art gallery in Glendale on Monday.”
“I didn’t know you knew that much about art.”
“If I can sell clothes I ought to be able to move a few paintings.”
“I have no doubt you can do anything you put your mind to.”
Alex threw her head back in disgust. “Yeah, that’s what got me into shit in the first place. I guess this is just karma biting me in the ass.”
John leaned in and kissed her again. “But it’s such a cute ass.”
Alex smiled and playfully pushed him away.
John took a swig from the bottle and sat with his elbows resting on his thighs. “Do you miss it?”
“Miss what?”
“That world you lived in.”
“I miss the feeling of being in charge of my life,” Alex replied. “I miss the parties. The clothes. The celebrities. I was good at what I did.”
John sat back. “Selling drugs. Do you miss that, too?”
Alex shook her head. “I’m not gonna lie. The perks were pretty damn good. And sometimes it was as exciting for me as all of this is for you. In the beginning after Ray died I was scared out of my mind. I was a nobody. Then I met Xavier Rivera and all kinds of doors started opening up for me. I had my own business. I was traveling and I had money . . . I let my guard down when I got involved with Tirrell Ellis, but at least one good thing came out of all that mess. I have my beautiful baby girl.” Alex sighed. “Now, I’ve screwed up your life.”
John stared into Alex’s eyes and pulled her into a kiss. “You haven’t screwed up anything.”
“Liar. You never told me what happened when you went to see Lorraine the other day.”
“Other than the fact that I told her to back the hell off there wasn’t a whole lot to it. She was singing the same old song about us getting back together, and me going back to law school.”
“Something safe?”
“Settling in and being a lawyer was cool before we had kids and the big house that I couldn’t afford. But, I did what I had to do to support my family. I don’t have any regrets about that.” John turned up the bottle and sucked down the Corona.
“Can I get you another one?”
“How about something a little stronger?”
By the time the pizza arrived and two drinks later, John had mellowed. He was even laughing about how much of a disappointment he’d been to Lorraine’s father and her Irish Catholic upbringing.
“So, if her father thought you were beneath her why did he let the two of you get married?” Alex queried.
“Because Lorraine told him she was pregnant and he didn’t want her to bring shame on the precious Reardon name.”
“Was she?”
“No. John Michael was born a year after we got married. Liam, her father, thought I put Lorraine up to the lie so I could get me hands on her Lucky Charms.”
Alex laughed at John’s bad attempt to affect an Irish brogue. He was so charismatic. It was easy to see how Lorraine or any woman could fall so completely for him and lament losing him. And there it was again: that heartrending look in his soulful brown eyes. In that moment she intuitively knew of at least one unspoken regret. Locked away inside of him was the tarnished love he once had for Lorraine, and possibly still did regardless of what he said.
Ade’s cell phone rang as he and Jamilah were finishing dinner. He blanched when he looked at the caller ID.
“Ade, is something wrong?”
“No,” he responded. “It’s just my daughter. “Will you excuse me for a moment?”
She smiled politely. He got up from the table and went toward the men’s room for privacy.
“What is it?”
“¡Hola! mi amigo.”
The mocking tone of the caller resonated in Ade’s ear. He closed his hand over his mouth.
“I trust you are enjoying your evening out with the lovely señora.”
Ade backed into the wall to allow a man coming from the men’s room to pass.
“Señor Obafemi, are you there?”
“Y . . . yes. I’m here.”
“It’s time to move our plan forward.”
“I . . . I can’t.”
“You can and you will, or else—”
“There has to be another way.”
“Don’t tell me you are getting cold feet.”
“I don’t want to hurt these people.”
“Would you rather your family be hurt instead?”
“No.”
“Then you know what has to be done, yes?”
Ade nodded as if his silent compliance could be heard. He ended the call and hesitantly returned to the table.
“Is everything all right?”
“Everything is fine. I should get you home.”
Ade tried not to show that he was troubled on the ride back. He knew what was coming and feared the reprisal against his children if he didn’t go through with it. Like the gentleman he’d presented he saw Jamilah to the door. The porch light was on and only Alex’s Honda Civic was parked in the driveway.
Jamilah smiled. “Thank you for making my birthday something special.”
“It was my pleasure.”
She reached out and caressed his face.
“‘O Thou bright jewel in my aim I strive to comprehend thee.’”
Ade’s eyes clouded. He leaned in and kissed her good night: a Judas kiss tinged with betrayal.
12
“Ah, look a’ here. That’s what I’m talkin’ about. Keep ’em comin’, Pauline.” The whiskey-voiced Ernie Mae laughed and taunted as the cards were dealt. “Come on, Janette. We’re about to sweep the floor with these two.”
“How many books do we need?” Jamilah asked, sitting down to the table with a pitcher of lemonade.
“Five.”
“If we run a Boston you all won’t get one book, let alone
five,” Pauline, the dealer, snapped as she picked up her cards.
“Just don’t renege again, like you did last time,” Ernie Mae retorted.
The woman sitting to the right of Jamilah peered over her bifocals and smirked as she set her hand in order. “So, Janette, how was your date last night?”
“It was really nice, Margaret. Ade took me to Lagos.”
The women looked confused.
“It’s the place in Los Angeles that serves African cuisine. It used to be called Ngoma,” Jamilah clarified. “The evening was an absolute delight and Ade was the perfect gentleman.”
“Gentleman, huh?” Ernie Mae smirked. “You give him any yet?”
“Shhhh,” Pauline chided. She craned her neck toward the living room where Cerena watched them from her playpen.
“What?” Ernie Mae laughed. “That baby don’t know what we’re talkin’ about. Besides, ain’t none of us gettin’ any younger. We got to get it whenever and wherever we can. Truth be told, if I had my say, I’d take a glass of that tall, dark drink of water I see cattin’ around over here a couple of nights a week. Girl, that man is fine. Young and hard beats old and saggy any day.”
“Ernie Mae, you so bad. Janette, I don’t know how you put up with her.” Pauline covered her mouth to stifle her amusement.
“Hey, just keepin’ it real, like my grandson says.”
Jamilah grimaced. “Are we goin’ to play cards, or are we goin’ to cackle like a bunch of old hens?”
The three women—resembling some sort of barnyard fowl or the other—exchanged telling glances and then eyed Jamilah. Ernie Mae was the only one brazen enough to continue prying.
“Girl, what happened? Is he bad in bed? Oh, I get it. He’s not regulation size, is he?”
Jamilah pursed her lips together and frowned.
Pauline leaned in to whisper, “He doesn’t need that Viagra stuff, does he?”
Cerena’s jubilant laughter drew the women’s attention and they all laughed as well.
Margaret peered over her bifocals again. “Maybe she does know what we’re talking about.”
“That ain’t nothin’ but gas,” Ernie Mae quipped.
Avenging Alex Page 11
