Body By Night

by Day, Zuri

  That gesture had expanded D’Andra’s place in Night’s heart and her kindness, combined with her diet and Night’s workout that was reshaping her body and the spell she cast on him when they made love—which had been almost every night since the first time—Night had fallen, and he had fallen hard.

  “What are you smiling about?” D’Andra asked.

  “You,” was Night’s simple reply.

  “Yeah, I’m happy too,” she responded.

  They were both momentarily silenced by their own thoughts of gratitude as they took in the beautiful March day and the sounds of smooth jazz coming from the stereo.

  “Where are we going?” D’Andra asked after the beautifully played Europa by Gato Barbieri had ended.

  “To see our future,” Night replied. “Matter of fact…”

  He reached for the phone. “I probably should have called Brad sooner. We made these plans a week ago, to pick up the keys to the gym.”

  “Figured out what you’re going to call it yet?”

  “I’m leaning towards Night Moves, because of the party-like atmosphere I’m going to create during the late night hours. But then again, I also like Jewel’s Gym and even Frank’s suggestion, Night Works.”

  “I’m surprised he didn’t come up with something with doll in it.”

  “Oh, you know he did and yes, Dollhouse was one of them.”

  D’Andra groaned. “See what happens when you listen to Bob Berry?”

  It was Night’s turn to moan. “Chuck Berry, doll, and please don’t make that mistake around Frank. He’d consider it sacrilegious. Hey Brad, Night.”

  “Oh, hey Night.”

  “Just double-checking to make sure you’re in the office. I’m checking out the space today and am coming to get the key.”

  Brad cringed at the sound of excitement in his client’s voice. He was still battling with Jazz’s request to stall the close, if not pull the sale altogether. Night was a good man. It was hard to believe what Jazz had said about him. But Jazz was a friend, and so deliciously sexy…

  “Uh, yeah, Night. I guess you can, sure, come on by.”

  “Everything’s still cool, right?” Night asked, sensing his realtor’s discomfort. “I mean we are still set to close next month.”

  Brad cleared his suddenly clogged throat. He’d never been a good liar. “I’m, uh, running into a couple snags but, uh, don’t worry. Come on and pick up the key.”

  “Snags? What kind of snags? I need to know right now exactly what’s going on. I’ve hired contractors to start renovations next month and ordered equipment that will be delivered in May. I’m in the process of interviewing trainers. If there is anything that’s going to throw me off from my opening on the fifth of July…you need to let me know now.”

  Brad loosened his tie and wiped a bead of sweat from his brow. “Actually, Night, I wasn’t quite sure where things stood, since you and Jazz are no longer business partners—”

  “Jazz? What’s she got to do with anything? Her name isn’t on the papers, my company’s is.” Night’s sunny day was turning gloomier by the minute. It was obvious Jazz was up to her old, manipulative tricks. “What exactly has Jazz said to you?” Night asked bluntly.

  “She just, uh, said you two were no longer partners.”

  “And why would you think that changed anything regarding my buying the property?”

  Brad was in a hole without a shovel and he didn’t like it. He didn’t want to screw Night until he was sure of his facts. “Look buddy, I’m sorry I mentioned it. When will you be at the office?”

  “I’m about ten minutes away.”

  D’Andra was all too aware of Night’s drastic change in mood. She wanted to comfort him, but how? Remaining silent seemed the best choice. She simply placed her hand softly on Night’s thigh.

  He covered it with his own. After another moment, he sighed, brought D’Andra’s hand to his lips and kissed it.

  “It’s hard to believe that at one time I thought Jazz was the one,” Night said.

  “She’s a very pretty girl.”

  “Yes, and on her good days she’s funny, thoughtful and really smart. But on the other days she’s self-centered, mean and manipulative. There started to be too many of those other days. That’s why we broke up. That and the fact she didn’t really like my mama.”

  “Ooh, no way Night. How could anybody dislike Miss Val?”

  “Somebody who felt they had to compete with her for my love. You don’t, you know,” he said, glancing quickly at D’Andra. “I have enough love for my mom and my woman.”

  Moments after Brad let Night borrow the keys to do another walk-through, Night and D’Andra were back on the highway, headed to the Ladera Heights Shopping Center and Night’s future gym. The conversation was once again lighthearted, as they continued to learn about each other. Night shared stories of his growing up, first in Texas and later L.A., and D’Andra told him about the “Fabulous Four.” They were laughing at D’Andra’s memories of moonwalking when her phone rang.

  “Hello?”

  “Hi, I’m trying to reach a…D’Andra, D’Andra Smalls?”

  “This is D’Andra.”

  There was a slight pause. “You left a message on my machine several weeks ago. My name is Sylvia. Sylvia Dobbs.”

  D’Andra’s mouth went dry instantly. She clasped her small cell phone with both hands. “You know Orlando Dobbs?” she asked tentatively.

  “I might,” was the reply.

  D’Andra glanced over at Night before continuing. “I’m looking for the Orlando Dobbs who lived in Los Angeles in the eighties and knew a Mary Smalls.”

  “What’s your relationship to Orlando?”

  D’Andra swallowed, her heart beat frantically in her chest. “I might be his daughter.”

  21

  D’Andra had remained unusually quiet since getting the phone call about the man who could be her dad. They’d continued the ride to the gym space in near silence and even his excitement about the gym as they walked the space had elicited little more than monosyllable replies.

  “Want to talk about it?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “You know I’m here for you if you do. I know what it’s like to not have a dad and wonder about your father. My dad died when I was old enough to remember him well, but there are still questions. There’s always something missing…so I feel you.”

  “My mother won’t talk about him,” D’Andra began. “She believes I should just leave it alone and can’t understand why I want to know him. She never knew her father, and I guess never felt the need to know that I do. My sister knows her dad and while their relationship is limited at best, she knows him, where he lives, his telephone number. There’s a connection.”

  Night stopped and placed his hands on D’Andra’s shoulders. “I don’t agree with your mother. I think you should find your father. And I’m here to help, if you need me.”

  D’Andra’s eyes watered but she refused to cry. “Thanks, Night. That means a lot.”

  She was still thinking of Night’s kindness as she clocked into work that night. Her evening with him had been a blessing; it felt good to feel taken care of for a change. Work was busy but manageable, with nobody running off, throwing up or acting out on her watch. She and Elaine shared a quick bite and caught up on each other’s lives.

  “So, are you going to Chicago to meet your father?”

  D’Andra nodded slowly. “Yes, I am. Night said he’d go with me.”

  Elaine reached across the table. “I’m glad for you D’Andra; every child deserves to know his parents. I’m hoping for the best.”

  Elaine finished her Lean Cuisine pizza and continued. “And speaking of Night, I might need to sign up for some one-on-ones. You’re looking good, woman!”

  “Thank you, Elaine. I feel good too. Both my blood pressure and my cholesterol are down and I definitely have more wind and stamina than I used to.”

  “Uh-huh. And this stamina is for…�
��

  “Whatever,” D’Andra said smiling. “But yes, that too,” she finished, her body warming as she thought of Night.

  “How much have you lost?”

  “Twenty-five pounds already. Can you believe it?”

  “Looking at you? Yes, I can. When is his gym opening?”

  “He’s shooting for July fifth.”

  Elaine noticed the brief frown that crossed D’Andra’s face. “Running into a few snafus?”

  “Just one really.” And her name is Jazz. “But he’s staying positive and moving forward. He’s so excited. And so am I.”

  For the first time D’Andra went into detail about her plans to take nutrition classes, cut her work at Heavenly Haven to a part-time shift and teach nutrition and health seminars at Night’s gym. She also told her about the apartments she’d looked at recently and the low-level, yet continual stress at home.

  After her shift was over, D’Andra set off for home and some much needed sleep. Spending time with Night had been great but it had also cut into the previous day’s sleep. She’d tried to talk him out of working out tonight but he wouldn’t hear of it. She had only one thought on her mind as she walked up the sidewalk…bed.

  That thought was challenged as soon as she opened the door. Kayla was screaming for Tonia and Antoine to eat their cereal and Mary was hollering at D’Andra through a closed bedroom door.

  “Dee! Get those kids ready for school for me!”

  D’Andra was so tired she hadn’t even noticed that Cassandra’s car wasn’t parked out front.

  She opened her mother’s door to find her snuggled under the covers.

  “Where’s Cassandra?” D’Andra asked in a voice full of agitation.

  “She spent the night with Anthony,” her mother replied. She didn’t bother to take her head out from under the sheets or turn to face D’Andra as she continued. “I think he’s getting ready to ask her to marry him.”

  D’Andra was too tired to argue and didn’t have enough energy for anger. “Mama,” she said, her voice soft. “I am exhausted. Can you get up and get the kids ready?”

  “I’m tired, and my side hurts,” she replied.

  D’Andra was headed out the door when Mary’s voice stopped her. “Oh, D’Andra?”

  Mary finally pulled the sheet off her face and grimaced as she shifted to face D’Andra. “She’s going to need you to watch them this weekend too. She and Anthony are going to Las Vegas.”

  D’Andra’s heart skipped. She hadn’t planned to tell her mother that she was going to Chicago to meet her dad. But maybe, she thought, it was best she knew.

  “I can’t watch them. Night and I are going out of town.”

  “That man you work out with? Y’all dating now? I thought you were just friends?”

  D’Andra resisted a frustrated sigh. Why did it seem as if her mother lived and breathed Cassandra’s life while hers was invisible?

  “Mama, I told you a few weeks ago we’d started going out.”

  “I thought y’all were working out. What he look like?”

  “He’s attractive, Mama. I’m sure you’ll meet him soon. At any rate, we’re going to Chicago and I won’t be here to watch the kids.”

  “That’s where he’s from, Chi-town?”

  “No.”

  “Then why are you going there?”

  D’Andra took a breath, looked her mother in the eye. “To see my father.”

  “What?” Mary threw off the covers and struggled to a sitting position. “What the hell are you going to search him out for?”

  “I know you don’t understand, Mama. But it’s something I need to do, for many reasons. You don’t want to talk about him, and I have questions that need answers.”

  “What is there to know? We were together, and then he left. End of story. I never knew my father and you didn’t see me traipsing all over the country trying to find him. Why can’t you just leave it alone?”

  “Why can’t you just support my decision?”

  Mary’s anger propelled her to action. She swung her legs over the side of the bed and stood. That simple act cost her precious breath and she stood for a moment, heaving and holding her side. She then reached for a floral robe, belted it quickly, slipped into a pair of worn, pink fluffy slippers and pushed past D’Andra.

  “Go on to Chicago, since I can’t tell you nothing. But after you meet him and he’s busted your fantasy bubble, don’t come back here crying to me.”

  Mary turned her anger toward her grandchildren. “Y’all get up from that table and get your clothes on. It’s time for school!”

  D’Andra eyed her mother silently before following the children up the stairs. She couldn’t understand why Mary was so angry at her father when she didn’t share that same antipathy toward Cassandra’s father, Sam. Maybe, she thought as she helped the kids get dressed, it was because Sam helped out financially until Cassandra was eighteen, and was at least remotely in her life. In the end it didn’t matter. One, she was too tired to figure it out and two, her mind was made up, she was going to see Orlando Dobbs.

  Once the children left for school, D’Andra peeled off her clothes and flopped down on the couch. She didn’t even bother to pull out the sofa bed, but covered the cushions with a sheet and herself with a light blanket.

  Her heart was heavy as she thought about her family, the mostly acrimonious relationship she had with her mother and sister. I’m not doing this anymore. Things have got to change. The phrase repeated itself as she drifted off into sleep. Just before she dozed off, her cell phone rang. She was too tired to answer it but if she had, she might have slept easier. The caller had an answer to her prayers.

  22

  Night held D’Andra’s hand as they sat in Orlando Dobbs’ living room, just one week after receiving his wife’s phone call. It had been an emotionally draining whirlwind weekend, from the time they arrived on a red-eye Saturday morning until now, Monday, almost noon.

  It started with the first meeting on Saturday, after Night and D’Andra had gotten a few hours sleep. They agreed to meet at a Starbucks near the condo where Orlando lived with Sylvia, his wife of almost twenty years. D’Andra guessed the meeting had gone as well as could be expected, but she was unprepared for the bluntness of it.

  Night and D’Andra had approached the older Black couple who were already seated and sipping coffee when they arrived.

  “Are you Orlando Dobbs?” D’Andra asked the sixtyish-looking man. She tried not to be obvious but couldn’t help staring hard at this stranger, trying to find herself in his face.

  The man stood, hand outstretched. “I am. And you’re Mary’s daughter, D’Andra.”

  “I’m your daughter too,” D’Andra replied, openly staring now. He looked nothing like she remembered, not that her memories were of much. He wasn’t a really tall man, around five-nine, but he was big. His stomach hung over the brown leather belt of his navy pants, and his jowls puffed out his face. D’Andra subconsciously placed a hand to her own round face. Okay, I’ve got the shape of his face. His salt-and-pepper short afro framed large, bloodshot eyes. Like D’Andra, it seemed Orlando had slept little in the past few days. Aside from a medium-sized mustache and a mole on the left side of his mouth, his face was clean-shaven.

  “I’m Sylvia,” the woman who’d remained seated offered. She was not smiling but the words were not said unkindly. She appeared younger than Orlando, with deep brown skin that was smooth and clear. Her hair was short and curly with minimal streaks of gray. Her brightly colored sweater stood in stark contrast to her subdued personality. She motioned to the other side of the table. “Why don’t you two have a seat?”

  A moment of awkward silence followed after introducing Night and before Orlando spoke. “So how is Mary?”

  “She’s okay,” D’Andra said. She breathed and released, feeling comfort in talking about someone familiar. “I’ve been trying to get her to lose a little weight, eat healthy, but overall she’s doing pretty good. When was the las
t time you saw me…us?”

  Orlando cleared his throat and fidgeted before answering. “I think you were around two or so. But…just what did Mary tell you about my leaving?”

  “Mama hasn’t told me hardly anything about you. I asked repeatedly when I was younger, but gave up after I…when I was nine years old. And there’s so much I want to know. Aside from the obvious questions that any child might ask an absent parent, there are some specific health questions I need answered. A few months ago, I was thirty pounds heavier, suffering from diabetes and high blood pressure. When the doctor asked for a family history of these illnesses, I could only give one side. That’s when I became determined to find you.”

  “Well, I do have high blood pressure; but no diabetes as yet thank the good Lord. That’s probably due to Sylvia here. She tries to keep me eating right. If I get fried chicken, it must either be a holiday or my birthday.”

  D’Andra smiled briefly before abruptly changing the subject. “Why did you leave?”

  Orlando squirmed again, clearly uncomfortable. The tension at the table became palpable as all their coffees sat cold and untouched.

  Sylvia cleared her throat and broke the silence. “D’Andra, we feel that you should have a DNA test done to prove that you’re Orlando’s child.”

  This suggestion, while valid, caught D’Andra totally off guard. It took her a moment to respond. “Of course that’s reasonable,” she began slowly. “I just never expected to…I mean, you lived with my mother until I was about two.”

  “It’s just to be sure, baby,” Sylvia said. For the first time since meeting she showed true compassion. “This is a lot for all of us to take in, and if you’re Orlando’s child, we will welcome you to our family.” She looked at Orlando briefly, warmly. “We have three children between us, one I brought in from a previous marriage and two we’ve had together. If you’re his daughter you’ll be number four, and the oldest. But we want to be sure before we start reestablishing family ties.”

  Unbeknownst to D’Andra, Sylvia had used connections with a doctor friend and set up an afternoon appointment for her and Orlando to get swabbed for DNA samples, which would then be delivered to a research lab for analysis. They guaranteed results within forty-eight hours. Now, come Monday, the envelope that held the answer was lying on the coffee table that separated Orlando and Sylvia, who were seated on the blue-and-white pin-striped couch, across from Night and D’Andra, who were perched anxiously on an oversized matching love seat in the Dobbses’ living room. The envelope had been delivered less than an hour before Night and D’Andra had arrived.