Nappily in Bloom

by Trisha R. Thomas

  She continued surveying the store and me. “I know now what you experienced having a relationship with Airic. I now understand your bitterness. I wish I’d never put you through all of that nastiness. But here we are. Proof that prayer works, because I was just thinking about you and how I wished I could apologize for my error in judgment. All that you suffered defending your name. And your rapper—”

  “My husband. Jake.”

  “Yes, how are you two doing?”

  Before I could say fabulous or some other exaggerated term, she cut me off. “As they say, time heals all wounds.”

  Speaking of wound, her matte-finish makeup was flawless. There was no proof Airic was a wife-beating scoundrel who slept with underage girls. Her smooth brown skin showed no mark or bruise. There was nothing beaten or broken about Trevelle Doval.

  She surmised my confusion and raised a weak hand to her face as if she were parched and needed the kindness of strangers. “Indeed, I’ve got a lifetime of healed hurts. I’m a survivor. But this . . . this time I don’t know.” She found her way to a chair without looking and sat down. “I still have dizzy spells from when he hit me.”

  “I’ll get you some water.” I was hoping it was my chance to escape.

  “No, that’s not necessary. I’m not staying long.”

  I took the seat across from her, and peeked out the window to make sure she had a car outside. If it was a taxi trip, I’d need to call ahead, and now wouldn’t be too soon. To my relief, there was an escorted town car waiting in the red zone.

  “Is it a coincidence that you are in charge of my daughter’s wedding? I think not. I think God has a way of delivering us to just the right place of passage.”

  “I’m not in charge, Trevelle. I’m the coordinator.”

  “This is God’s deliverance, bringing me to your door. For every right reason we are here before one another. I have to tell you—you are the last person I expected to see. I mean, that woman, Judge Delma Hawkins, dealt you the same underhandedness she dealt me. She was on that bench passing judgment on a case when she had no business, no possible way of rendering an unbiased decision. Yet she sat there, pretending not to know me, not to know she had kidnapped my daughter.”

  I took the quick few seconds I had while she gathered another long breath. “That’s all in the past. Keisha is going to be a beautiful bride. And just for the record, all decisions are made through Keisha and her moth . . . er.” I could see the damage was done before adding the er on the end, but I tried to clean it up anyway. “I mean, Delma is really the decision maker. I’m basically carrying out what she’s asked for.”

  “Of course. I just thought—” Her voice lowered. “—I just thought maybe an arrangement could be worked out.” She lifted a white envelope out of her purse. “There’s five thousand dollars in here.”

  “No, I couldn’t take your money. Everything is already taken care of.”

  “Well, this is if you can un-take care of it. Maybe inform Keisha and her mother,” she said with enough scorn, “that you couldn’t secure the necessary details. That maybe the wedding needs to be postponed.”

  My mouth fell open in shock. A bribe? Five thousand dollars. The collar around my In Bloom T-shirt seemed tighter. My throat and mouth turned dry. I still managed to eke out, “My God.”

  “What? Oh . . . no. I’m not trying to bribe you. Delma’s style is a bit thrift store, if you know what I mean. I just need to buy some time. Really think about if it was your only daughter about to take the biggest step of her life and you were completely excluded. What would you do?”

  “Put your money away.” As much as I liked hard untaxed cash, I couldn’t do it. And basically, five thousand wasn’t enough to betray my good sense. Now if she’d multiplied that number by ten, we could’ve at least had a conversation.

  “I would love to chat, but I have an huge stack of orders. Flower deliveries,” I said to clarify. “Time is a huge factor in this business.”

  As I attempted to make my mad dash away from the scene to the back of the store, Trevelle followed close behind, “Just promise me her colors aren’t red and white. . . . That’s about as tacky as it can be. . . . No, wait a minute, turquoise, cobalt blue, any blue! Why our people know nothing about anything but primary colors is a wonder. This is going to be a tacky disaster—I can already feel it. I’ve graciously tried to accept what she did to me, stealing my child, but this is the kind of thing that makes me wish—”

  She’d continued to follow me but stopped abruptly when she saw Vince blocking her entrance to the work area. I opened my hands and shrugged my shoulders at Vince, who was now a witness to Trevelle’s craziness. “How ya doin?” he said to Trevelle, extending a hand after wiping them both with a towel.

  Trevelle stared at his hand with disdain. “Tell me you have a secret staff of elves back there. Are you a floral artist? Is this your profession, because you will need professionals for my daughter’s wedding.”

  Vince put on his best smile, “We love what we do here, ma’am. That’s why we need to get to work.” Vince’s thick arms folded over his chest while he spread his feet apart, not very floral-like. His first career must’ve included a B—bouncer, bodyguard, brute enforcer.

  “Trevelle, I wish I could involve you, but it’s not my choice.” I offered as truthfully as I could, feeling somewhat empowered with Vince at my side. “If you want to come back with Keisha, and she wants to make any changes, I would be happy to oblige. But we’re in a time crunch, so I doubt if that’s even going to happen.”

  She waved a dismissive hand. “Nonsense. You call her and tell her what she picked isn’t in season. Steer her professionally. Don’t you know anything?”

  “Okay, that’s it. Time to say good-bye.” I did a baby wave. “See you at the wedding.” I turned and walked away before I said something totally mean-spirited. I had a list a mile long.

  Vince seemed to be having too much fun to walk away. He basked in her berating. When she called him a moron, he laughed out loud. “You’re the famous televangelist, right? You’re even prettier in person, younger-looking, too.”

  I thought I’d fall over. I peeked out to see if his snake charm was working. Trevelle looked confused, not sure if the compliment was sincere.

  “Yeah, I spend too much time up late. But I’ve landed on you a few times. You’ve always got the right inspiring message. Persevere. Manifest. Trust.”

  “Thank you.” Trevelle nodded acceptance, deciding to calm down.

  “I didn’t see the inside of a church too often in my lifetime, unless I was burying a friend or relative. I’d probably gone more often if there was someone like you teaching.”

  Trevelle was falling for Vince’s fake admiration. So much so, I felt sorry for her.

  “Do you have time for a cup of coffee, or tea? I’d love to talk to you some more.”

  She fumbled for her car keys. “I have an appointment.”

  This time when Vince put out his hand, she took hold. He folded both hands over hers, a double grab.

  “Okay, then, feel free to stop by anytime,” Vince said as she rushed out.

  I clapped for him when he stepped into the back room. “Award winning.” I grinned.

  “Who said I was acting?”

  I put my hand to my mouth like I was about to throw up. “Please.”

  “Televangelists need love too, boo.” Vin pushed his lips out to emphasize his meaning.

  I put up a hand. “Please, not another word. I might hurl my lunch.”

  “So that means you don’t want the money.” He tried to hand me the envelope that he’d picked up off the floor.

  “Absolutely not. I don’t want anything to do with that woman and her bribe.”

  I had no choice but to report Trevelle to the high court. Delma Hawkins would not be pleased. Nor would she be shocked. I felt like I was caught in the middle of a catfight, only they were tigers with fangs and fingernails that could rip your heart out.

  “D
id you tell her to pound sand?” Delma asked as soon as I finished telling her the details.

  “Absolutely. I mean, really, five thousand dollars? Not that I would’ve taken any amount.” I quickly tried to clean it up.

  “Looks like you have your work cut out for you. How about I add a bit more to our agreement?”

  “No, really, you don’t have to.” I weakly exclaimed. No doubt I could use the money. Jake liked to mention how much my business was costing us just about every other day.

  “I can drop by early tomorrow with a check.”

  “Okay, if you think you should.” I felt like double-sided tape, sticking to everything I came into contact with. There was a small part of me that felt sorry for Trevelle, an even smaller part that felt bad for Delma. Yet both women had put my family in jeopardy without a second thought to what it would do to us. I hung up the phone and saw the envelope where Vince had set it in front of me. “You can always donate it to charity.”

  “I am the charity. Both these women cost me a mint in legal fees.”

  I pushed the envelope around, still scared to touch it, when in fact, this little four-digit contribution wouldn’t put a dent in the amount Jake and I spent fending off the custody lawyer Trevelle had hired for Airic. And even after it was over, we kept a local lawyer on retainer to protect us if someone accused us of fixing the first DNA results.

  I took the envelope and shoved it into my bag.

  “That a girl,” Vince said. This time he clapped for me. I took a bow and did a little belly dance before heading out the door.

  Who’s Zoomin’ Who?

  Venus

  “She’s using you, you realize that, don’t you?” Jake poured himself a cup of coffee and pulled up a stool next to mine at the granite breakfast counter. I’d been so excited to tell him about Trevelle’s visit to In Bloom. I even gave him the dirty details of Vince flirting with Trevelle right in front of me, and this was the thanks I got.

  “I could say the same to you, except replace the she with a he.” I narrowed my eyes. “Why is Legend still here?” I scooped out a chunk of grapefruit and slipped it in his mouth. Habit. I needed to feed someone, and Mya refused to be my baby anymore.

  “Let’s stay on the subject of you for a minute. The judge, she’s up to no good.” He grimaced then spit the bitter fruit into a napkin. “How do you eat this stuff?” He drank coffee, looking for relief, then made a sour face. “Great, now my coffee tastes like skunk piss.”

  I nudged him. “Pobrecito.” Followed up with a peck on the cheek. It was barely light out, six forty-five in the morning, but it was our morning ritual to try to wake up before Mya, to have strictly alone time that didn’t end in panting and pressed flesh. It was time to clear grievances and speak one on one.

  “Miss So-sorry-I-was-going-to-give-custody-of-your-child-to-a-fool wants you to be the heavy. When Hurricane Trevelle whips through town trying to bully her way into that ceremony, she wants you to be the bad guy.” He dumped three consecutive spoonfuls of sugar into his already sweetened coffee.

  “Hon, your taste buds will return—give it a minute.”

  “I’m a busy man.”

  “Doing what? Palling around with Legend, that’s what. What have you two been up to? Really, I’m ready for him to be gone.”

  “Stay on the subject.”

  “The subject should be what time you’re driving Legend to the airport.”

  “We’re still working things out.”

  I stayed quiet, waiting for the rest. He stayed quiet, too, obviously needing a push in the right direction. “I heard you guys last night, something about double jeopardy. He was talking about Byron Steeple. Why would he be talking about you being tried for a murder you didn’t commit?” I was fishing, but from the way his shoulders tensed, I’d hit the nail on the head.

  “He might know who was behind it. The reason he doesn’t want to operate the clothing company anymore is because he’s afraid the same guys are going to come after him.”

  “Oh, bullshit,” I said. “Don’t trust him.”

  “Legend wouldn’t make something like this up.”

  I rolled my eyes. “Please.”

  “Okay, next order of business. Is that fool still thinking he’s picking up Mya this weekend? Because you know what I said. I haven’t changed my mind.”

  “It’s not something we can decide. It’s a court order. If we want visitation changed, we have to see a judge.”

  “Don’t start defending him, V.” He stood up and dumped his coffee down the sink. His back was facing me, but I could still see the hurt.

  The hum of the refrigerator, the only sound, indicated we’d come to the close of our adult discussion hour. No one spoke.

  “I’m sorry. I wasn’t defending Airic. I’m stating facts.” I rose up and slipped my arms around his waist. I knew the rule, though I couldn’t help pressing my hips against his backside.

  The good thing about Jake and me was that sex could usually solve any disagreement. I’d read somewhere in a women’s magazine that this was no way to conduct a long-term relationship. Five years and counting, I was okay with our way of resolving difficulties. We’d been through just about every trial and tribulation a marriage could offer. To call it a rough patch couldn’t adequately define the dips and dives our marriage had been through, from his relationship with a female coworker to the loss of our son.

  I turned him around and pulled his face to meet mine. His bottom lip was sticky sweet from all the sugar he’d tried to put in his coffee. He may not have been able to, but I could taste it. I pushed my hands up his shirt and ran the smooth line of his strong wide chest. His body was a work of art—simple, elegant, and subtly sculpted. No hard ridges, only smooth tightness.

  “What happened to the rule?” He said into the air, his head lolled back. “We’re supposed to be hands off, all communication.”

  My mouth was trailing the center of his chest. “I’m communicating, and I’m not using my hands.”

  “Very well said,” he moaned, letting his head fall back.

  “Dayum.” Legend let out a little chuckle. “Honeymoon isn’t over, I see.” Legend opened the cabinet and grabbed a cup for coffee.

  We straightened up with shock and hurry. Jake pulled his shirt back over his head, and I shut down like a teen caught in the high school bathroom with her boyfriend. Really, I shouldn’t have felt anything near shame, but Legend had that effect on me. All women were whores unless they could prove otherwise. He’d even seduced and slept with my best friend, who was married with children, just to prove his point.

  “Babe, I love you. I’ll talk to you later.” Jake kissed the top of my head, my cue to leave.

  I moseyed over to the coffeemaker and poured myself a second cup, then leaned against the counter and took a sip.

  Jake gave me a pleading look. He was lucky he was fine. Even luckier I was a loving and respectful wife. I didn’t want to embarrass him by appearing unruly. I took my cup of java and headed past Legend.

  “No breakfast?” he mocked.

  “Feel free to help yourself to whatever’s in the fridge.” I said. “We already ate.”

  “I saw that,” Legend said. “Delicious.”

  Jake reached out and squeezed my hand to hold me back. My kinder, gentler façade was cracking with every moment our houseguest remained. I bit the inside of my jaw and left quietly.

  Loose Ties and Alibi

  Dying with regrets is the worst way to die. How could I have been so blind? I knew better than to be so trusting. I knew better than to turn my back on him. My instinct rose like a mother bear protecting her cub, and I ignored it. Now it was all so crystal clear. He had been playing right into his hands the entire time.

  I dreaded the idea of going home, knowing my houseguest from hell would still be lurking around every corner. Legend’s proposed exit date had come and gone. We were now on day five, with no signs of him leaving. Never knowing if he was sipping on cognac on the custom It
alian leather sofa or dripping sauce from his latest fast food expedition on the dining room silk brocade chairs I had sewn and covered myself. No matter where I stumbled upon him, it was always to my horror. We kept our word exchange to a minimum. The tension spoke loud and clear.

  “So what is it? You’ve never been this quiet thirty minutes straight.” Vince pulled open the tab of his Monster Energy drink. He downed about four a day, spaced far enough apart to avoid cardiac arrest.

  “I didn’t know I talked that much so when I’m quiet it actually concerned you.”

  Vince made a face similar to the one Jake made when he didn’t want to be too offensive and the truth would sting. “Tell Daddy what hurts.”

  I rolled my eyes. “I got enough daddies in my world, thank you.”

  “Okay, Brother Vin. How’s that?”

  “We have a houseguest, my husband’s business partner, Legend Hill. Saying his name makes my teeth hurt.”

  “Obnoxious?”

  “Just mean-spirited, cocky, and bitter.”

  “What’s his ETD?”

  I looked perplexed. I’d been out of the loop for a while.

  “Estimated time of departure.”

  “None. He’s quite happy eating my food and critiquing every bite.”

  “You cook?”

  “Vin, you know I’m a domestic goddess. Hence the peanut butter cookies you’ve been eating once a week. Hey, as a matter of fact, why don’t you come for dinner tomorrow night? You can taste my exquisite cuisine for yourself and see my houseguest. He really is the type you have to see to believe.”

  “I don’t know . . . that’s a lot of ego in one room. You, me, Jake.” He grinned. “Be there at seven.”