“Hey, Short Stack… Ah… it’s your father. I hope you’re just occupied, and not ignoring my call. I know when you get upset, you… never mind. Anyway… I… I had a talk with your mother about you last night, and she was talking about how much you’ve grown up, and become a young woman, and… baby girl, I didn’t like how her description of you felt. You’re not a… woman, you’re my baby girl, my Short Stack. And… if nothing else, I’m honest, so I’ll come right out and say… I’m having a hard time seeing you as anything else. My baby girl, who needs guidance, and protection, and listens to her father about what’s best. If I could just suspend you, right there, just freeze that moment in time before you decided you wanted to decide for yourself… I’d be such a happy man. But I can’t, I guess. You’re a grown woman, and I can’t stop that. I realize how hypocritical it is to push and challenge you to be an adult, and accomplish adult things, and support yourself, but deny you certain facets of that. I don’t have an excuse for it, Short Stack. Your old man is human. And I’m sorry, sweetie.”
There was a long pause in the voicemail, like that might be the end of it, but then he continued. “I had my reasons for not giving you that manager job. They were selfish, really, and had a whole lot more to do with me than you. And I’m sorry for that too, baby girl. This is hard for me… but having you upset with me is a lot harder. I want you back at Stacks, where you belong. I want to see your face there, and around here. Come to dinner tonight, and bring Harlan with you. I talked to him today too… about you. Or rather, his relationship with you. I couldn’t have handpicked a better young man for you, Short Stack. I’m not gonna be around forever baby girl. After what happened last month, I don’t think it’s wise to take a chance on having time to make amends later. I love you. I want to see you at dinner tonight.”
The message ended, and Sydnee reached forward to hang up the phone. With tears streaming down her face, she turned her gaze up to mine. “The night we went over there, you know my phone had been in my bag all day? This was one of the missed voicemails.”
“But it’s good though, right?” I asked, grabbing her hand. “To hear your dad say those things—”
She shook her head, snatching her hand away. “Why couldn’t he say them to me?! Not my voicemail! I’ve needed to hear this from him, to know that I wasn’t doing something wrong, and it’s a fucking recording! I wanted to talk to him, Harlan. Not… this,” she said, disdainfully waving her hand at the phone. “I’m not going to that funeral tomorrow.” She snatched up the phone, tossing it back onto the bedside table. “It’s for people who want to say goodbye, and celebrate his life, and I… I’m not in a celebrating mood. And I’m… I’m not fucking saying goodbye.”
I took a deep breath, then ran my tongue over my lips. “Syd… you have to go the funeral. Your mom…”
“I know.” She sniffled, then drew her knees up to her chest, wrapping her arms around herself. “I can’t make her face that by herself. I know. But I just… I know it’s irrational, but part of me feels like he knew. You know? Like he left that voicemail just so he’d have the last word, and I couldn’t argue back, you know?”
I lifted an eyebrow at first, and opened my mouth for a rebuttal, but it died on my lips, because… “You know… that does sound like something Stacks would do.”
“Doesn’t it?!” Our gazes met, and we broke into chuckles that were stilted at first, but gave way to full on laughter. “His stubborn ass. Dying, rather than admitting to my face that maybe he was wrong.” Syd dropped her face onto her knees, and was quiet for a long moment before I realized her shoulders were shaking from quiet sobs. “I should be grateful, right?” she asked, when I climbed across the bed to pull her into my arms. “That I got at least a little bit of closure? I feel like I should be glad I got anything, but… all I keep thinking about is that I would have rather just been pissed forever, and still have him here.”
“I know.” I settled back against her headboard, and she situated herself in my lap, with her face turned up toward mine.
“He said he talked to you?”
I took a deep breath, then nodded. “Yeah. He called up to the restaurant, but he didn’t invite me to dinner,” I chuckled. “Mrs. Natalie did later. But Stacks… he wanted to talk to me about shooting my balls off if I fucked up with you, making sure I treated you right… taking care of you once he was gone. My plans. Retirement, investing, stuff like that.”
“So he didn’t hate you for standing up to him for me?”
I shook my head. “Nah. I think that’s what he was tryna say, without saying it. Talking about our future like it was a foregone conclusion. Making sure I was equipped.” I swallowed hard, thinking about that conversation, and what it meant to me to have it. Even more than his roundabout way of passing along his blessing, him acknowledging – and encouraging – the possibility of a real future with Sydnee said a lot.
Sydnee nodded, and then she was quiet for a long time before she sat up. “Let’s get out of here,” she said, running her tongue over her lips and then climbing out of the bed. “I feel like this house is suffocating me.”
“What do you want to do?”
She shrugged. “I don’t know. Anything but stay here right now. Is that okay with you?”
“Yeah,” I said, standing up as she went to the vanity and pulled her curls into a ponytail on top of her head. When she was done, I turned her around, pulling her close to me. “Anything you need darlin’,” – I lowered my head, pressing my forehead to hers – “I’ve got you. Okay?”
She gave me the barest hint of a smile, then nodded as she wrapped her arms around my waist. “Same thing goes for you,” she said, earnestly. Her eyes were glossy with tears, but bright as she fixed her gaze on me. “Thank you for not listening to me to this time. For coming anyway. I needed to see you.”
“Good,” I shot back, then lowered my lips to hers. “Cause I needed to see you too.”
After a quick stop to see my mother, and tell her where I’d be, we’d left the house and drove back into the city, parking at Harlan’s building. Purposely, I’m sure, he pulled me in the opposite of Stacks, which led us toward Urban Grind.
We kept getting stopped on the street, by people wanting to offer condolences. As much as I wanted to think about anything except the fact that my father was gone, it was strangely comforting. People who I didn’t even really know, but knew Daddy, stopped us to give us hugs and words of encouragement, but we made slow progress down the block. By the time we got to the front of Fresh Cuts, and I insisted we go inside, even Harlan’s eyes were misty.
He looked… lost. He was trying, for my sake, but his normally laid-back demeanor was conspicuously absent. Harlan wasn’t a “pretty boy”, but he stayed well groomed.
Usually.
He was looking distinctly “scruffy”, so I talked him into a chair, and listened with a smile that was only partially forced as the men told us stories about my father. By the time we left there, he was a little looser, and shook his head at me, chuckling as I dragged him into Posh Petals. He refused to wear any flowers for me, but I accepted a crown of white stargazer lilies from Simone, pulling my kinky-curls loose to wear them in my hair. We stopped into Guilty Pleasures, where Viv sent us off with way more chocolate than either of us needed, and then continued on to Urban Grind.
We ate, we talked and laughed with our friends, who understood that for tonight, at least, before we buried Daddy tomorrow, this was what we needed. Not the darkness, and gloom, and sad memories, just to… escape it, for a minute. We drank – just a little bit – and then danced off the liquor and food, so we ate, and laughed, and talked some more. By the time we left UG, we were hot, sweaty, tired, and feeling… temporarily lighter. We headed back for his place, but neon lights caught my attention, and what was probably a terrible idea formed quickly in my mind. I squeezed Harlan’s hand, urging him to stop on the sidewalk, in front of the graffiti covered windows of Dist’Inkd.
I bit my lip as my eye
s slid toward the entrance, and Harlan’s forehead wrinkled into a scowl. “I’m not drunk or anything, I swear,” I said, stepping closer to him, and looking up to meet his eyes.
“Are you serious?” he asked, and I entwined my fingers through his as I nodded.
“Yes. I am absolutely serious. I know it’s crazy, and impulsive, but all day, I’ve been feeling really disconnected. I don’t want to feel like this. And… I don’t know. I feel like I need some sort of link to him, something that’s always connected to me. This is it.”
Harlan gave a slight shake of his head. “Sydnee, this is…” He trailed off, with a heavy sigh, but something in his eyes… “Okay.”
I blinked. “Okay? You mean… you’re gonna do it too?!”
He broke into a smile over my excitement, then nodded. “Why not? You only live once, right? And besides…,” – he raised his sleeve a little and turned his arm, showing me the dog tags and date tattooed on the inside of his bicep. “Can’t do it for one man and not the other. Wouldn’t be right.”
Tears formed in my eyes as he pulled me inside, onto the graffiti-painted, polished concrete floors of the shop. The entrance was dark, but once we were fully inside, the stations were well lit and the energy was high, partially because of the hip-hop blasting through the speakers.
“What is my milk chocolate chip doing in here?” Somebody shouted across the shop, and I really couldn’t do anything but smile as a gorgeous, dark skinned man came from the back to greet us. He was wearing ripped jeans, heavy boots, and a black tee shirt, and that ensemble plus his full sleeves of tats and immaculate shoulder length locs gave him a look that exuded… a lot of sexy. But, that was Eddie. Model gorgeous, tall, fit, and a little bit intimidating if you didn’t know him.
“You know I’m not tatting this muhfuckas name on this pretty brown skin, right?” he asked as he approached, pulling me into a hug before he pressed a kiss to my cheek. “How are you? Are you okay?” he asked seriously, looking me right in the eyes.
I smiled, then nodded, holding his gaze. “Yes, Eddie. I’m… as okay as could be expected. And I’m not getting Harlan’s name on me.”
Eddie lifted an eyebrow at me, then turned to Harlan, with his arm still around my waist and extended his hand. “You’re taking care of her?”
Harlan nodded, returning Eddie’s handshake. “I’d like to think so.”
“He is,” I scolded, giving Eddie a sideways look. “Don’t give him a hard time.”
Eddie’s eyes widened, in an innocent expression. “I’m not about to give him a hard time, Harlan is cool by me. I’m just doing due diligence.” He crossed his arms, then looked back and forth between us. “So if y’all aren’t getting names – which I wasn’t fucking doing anyway – what are you getting? I’ll do yours chocolate chip, and Priyanka can do Harlan.”
“Yeah,” Harlan said, like he’d just realized we had to choose something. He glanced around at the pictures of tats lining the walls, then looked back at me. “What are we getting?”
I pushed my hands in the pocket of my jeans, and looked around the shop myself, wondering. As I glanced over the walls, I caught a glimpse of my reflection in the mirror, and sucked in a breath. I turned to Harlan, grabbing his hand, and intertwined his fingers with mine as I smiled at him. “I think I have an idea.”
Thirty minutes later, we were seated next to each other, me in Eddie’s station, Harlan in Pri’s, after having the tattoo sketched out for approval.
“So we’re getting tatted, huh?” I looked up to see Astrid approaching, with Quinn at her hip. They had Jamar and Cason in tow, and they went to talk to Harlan while Eddie stopped his prep work to glance over his shoulder, and look Astrid up and down.
“You invited this she-devil in here, didn’t you? I oughta kick you out, bringing evil over my threshold,” he grumbled as he lowered my wrist to the platform built into the arm of the chair, and proceeded to clean it with alcohol pads.
“You realize I can hear you, right?” Astrid closed the last little bit of distance so that she was standing right in front me – which placed her right beside Eddie.
Astrid was, simply put, beautiful. Deep brown skin, big brown eyes, lush lips. Freshly redone twists that hung to her waist, lean muscle courtesy of yoga, modest curves courtesy of genetics and a healthy appreciation of food. Current attire – gladiator sandals, shredded jean shorts, and a floaty white peasant top that showed her pierced midriff – courtesy of a healthy disrespect for clothes. As much as Eddie acted like her presence was the worst thing ever… he certainly couldn’t keep his eyes off her.
“I know you heard me,” he said, when he’d pulled his eyes away from her abs long enough to look at her face. “I didn’t lower my voice or stutter, did I?”
Astrid’s face spread into a wide smile as Eddie straightened to full height – at least a foot taller than her – and she stepped a little closer to him, so they were almost touching. “You know… whenever you wanna stop pretending you don’t want me, your spirit will be a whole lot less distressed.”
“My spirit will—” Eddie sucked his teeth. “Girl, whatever. Don’t you have some cilantro to burn or something?”
Astrid bit her lip. “Sage,” she corrected. “And if you need a cleansing in here, I’d be more than happy to provide that. It’s a great way to bring in good energy.”
Eddie lifted an eyebrow. “The energy in here is perfectly fine.”
“Eh.” Astrid shrugged. “Could be better.”
“Right, when you take your energy, aura, aroma, whatever, back to whatever spiritual realm, or hell, or wherever you came from.”
I lifted my hands, making a slicing motion between them. “Okay, lovebirds, can I get my tattoo, or—”
Eddie turned to me with a scowl. “Lovebirds?! Where? Ain’t no lovebirds—”
“Focus, Eddie. Please?” I clasped my hands in front of me, hoping to calm them down.
Astrid smirked. “Yeah, Eddie. Focus. Relax. You know a little… cilantro… would help you with some of this tension you have going. We could roll up. Or come to yoga. It would do you good.”
“Bye Astrid,” I said, giving her a pointed look, to which she smiled in response.
She leaned in to give me a hug, then whispered, “Told you it was fun” to me before Quinn pulled her away, shooting an apologetic look at Eddie as they left.
Eddie shook his head as he watched them walk away, but he watched the whole time, and then looked back at me. “Okay. Now that the demon has been exorcised… let’s get you tatted.”
“So how do you feel now?”
I looked up from my place at Harlan’s kitchen counter as he sauntered in, wearing nothing but a pair of basketball shorts that hung low on his hips. We’d gone to his place after Dist’Inkd, where he let me shower first, and then took his turn while I sat at the counter, sorting – and eating – the chocolate we’d gotten from Viv.
I glanced down at the clear plastic taped to my wrist, covering the tiny stack of syrup covered, cherry-topped pancakes tattooed there. An idea I’d gotten from the “Stacks” tee shirt I’d worn to leave my house, without even realizing it. “I feel good,” I said, smiling as he approached me, wrapping his arms around me from behind.
“Good,” he mumbled into my ear, then kissed me there as he squeezed me tight. “So… you are going to the funeral, right?”
I turned my head, looking at him over my shoulder. “Yeah. I wouldn’t dare not be there to hold mama’s hand… and I’m sure she’ll want you holding the other one.”
Harlan turned me around on the barstool, so that I was facing him, and pressed his lips to mine. I lifted my arms, draping them over his shoulders as he pulled me closer.
“How are you feeling?” I asked him, when he finally drew back so we could breathe. I ran my hand lightly over his tattoo, identical to mine but on his bicep. He dropped his gaze for a second, like he was thinking about it, and then shook his head. When he brought his eyes up again, I realized they were g
lossy.
“You know how earlier, when I told you to tell me if you needed anything, and your response was that the same thing went for me?”
I nodded, then brought my hands to his face. “Of course.” He didn’t say anything, but I could feel him hesitating over his words. “Harlan, just tell me…. What is it? What do you need from me?”
For a second, he still didn’t respond, but then I felt his hands move up my thighs, and under the hem of the tee shirt – his – that I was wearing, to rest at my hips.
Oh.
“You don’t have to. Please don’t feel like you have to. With everything going on, I know it’s—”
“Hush.” I moved my fingers to cover his mouth as I grinned. “Harlan… I’ve wanted to do that since you showed up in my room earlier. I just… I didn’t know how to ask, or how you’d feel about it, if you’d want to. So… yeah. We can definitely do that.”
Harlan smiled, then moved his hands around to grip my butt and squeeze, dragging me to the end of the barstool as I opened my legs, so he’d fit tighter against me. “I just… I want to be close to you.”
“Then….” I grabbed the hem of the shirt, pulling it over my head. “Let’s get close.”
“Hey… what’s wrong?”
I can’t get close enough, that’s what’s wrong.
No matter how deeply I nestled myself into Harlan’s arms, no matter how tightly he held me, I felt like he was a mile away. An hour ago, in his kitchen, up on the counter… that was supposed to cure this feeling. But apparently, that only lasted while we were in the act, and now I was… not close enough.
“Nothing,” I mumbled, just before I turned myself onto my back, staring up at the ceiling. The big window in Harlan’s bedroom faced a streetlight, and he had it open, letting in the light, and neighborhood noise, and good smells, thanks to the bakery down the street. I let out a little breath, closing my eyes as I felt Harlan’s lips on my bare shoulder, silently urging me to spill what was actually on my mind.
Love You Forever (Serendipitous Love Book 5) Page 13
