All the Things I Meant to Tell You

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All the Things I Meant to Tell You Page 18

by Tiffany L. Warren


  “Auntie Sherrie, I love you,” I said. “Let me know what you need. Sam and I are gonna get on the road. I need to get back to Atlanta.”

  “Aw, baby, I thought you were coming back by the house,” Auntie Sherrie said as she hugged me.

  “I don’t think that’s a good idea. Rochelle is already acting up. Once she gets back to the house and starts drinking, it’s gonna be worse.”

  “I hate to say it, but you’re right. Safe travels, and call me when you get in.”

  I made the rounds hugging everyone, and so did Sam. I did not want to hug Rochelle, but that would’ve given her another reason to start hollering and to point out how disrespectful her forty-one-year-old daughter was.

  “All right, Rochelle, we’re leaving.” I extended my arms for a hug, and Rochelle looked at me like I was crazy.

  “So, you ain’t gonna give me no money or nothing? You came down here and paid for this big ass funeral . . .”

  She must’ve forgotten we were still at church, because the cussing had begun.

  “. . . and paying everybody else damn bills, and then make me gotta beg you for something.”

  “You ain’t gotta beg me for nothing,” I said, as I let my arms fall to my waist. She didn’t want a hug anyway. She wanted cash.

  Sam finished his hugs of my other family members and friends, and came and stood behind me.

  “It was nice meeting you, Ms. Rochelle. Looking forward to the next time.”

  From her seat, Rochelle looked Sam up and down and said nothing. She gave both of us her back and went back to eating her food. Well, whatever. If she was done, I was done.

  It always made me sad to see other families that were close knit, but this was my motivation to do well in life. It was also why my sorority sisters were my family, and now Sam. Now that my grandmother was in heaven, they were all I needed.

  I just hoped that seeing this level of dysfunction wouldn’t make Sam question our future.

  Chapter 27

  HAHNA

  I was so happy to be on the road home I didn’t know what to do. I loved my family, but the doses needed to be extremely small. And my mama showing her ass at the repast was enough to keep me from visiting for the next three or four years. I was embarrassed that all that happened in front of Sam, though.

  “I think you left tire marks in the hotel parking lot,” Sam said as I pulled onto the main road.

  I laughed. “I don’t care. I need to get back to civilization.”

  “Yes, I feel you. Do you think your aunt’s going to be okay?”

  “She’ll be fine. Their house is paid off, and she’s got her own pension from the pickle plant. She’ll get whatever Uncle Joe was going to get for working there his whole life.”

  “She might have to share it with Melinda.”

  “That girl too stupid to even ask for it. She so country ghetto that she doesn’t even know what a pension is.”

  “It’s crazy the information people are lacking.”

  “Yes, it is.”

  My family and everyone else in Shady Falls was just content to only have enough to maybe buy a trailer to put on an empty lot and a nice car—a Lincoln or a Cadillac. The idea of building wealth was foreign to them. The amount of money I had in my portfolio was unfathomable. I was sure that my family, when counting and calculating how much money I had, didn’t even come close to the correct amount.

  “Hahna, I get it.”

  I lifted my eyebrow like it was a question mark. “You get what?”

  “Why you’re so obsessed with obtaining and keeping wealth.”

  I nodded. “I don’t want to seem obsessed, but it is very important to me. I never want to end up back in Shady Falls.”

  “And I don’t think you ever will. You’re too driven, and too brilliant. You being a success isn’t a fluke.”

  I thought about how The Data Whisperers was struggling to get clients again, and how we were a shadow of our former selves. Corden and Sylvia were still hanging in there, but they both deserved to work for a booming company with clients. That’s what they signed up for.

  “It may not have been a fluke, but what if it was like lightning? Who knows if I can strike again? I need to rebuild, but I’m not even sure how I start.”

  “How did you do it from the very beginning?”

  “Relationship building and being able to offer a product that no one else could provide. Corden and I have some of the most innovative models for data analytics in the industry. Before all this happened, I got offered partnerships at consulting firms at least once a month. Now, it’s crickets.”

  “Well, you’ve not lost your innovation or ability to build relationships.”

  “That’s true.”

  “So, rebuilding is just going to take time. It might take a little longer than it took in the beginning.”

  “Yeah, because we’ve got to overcome our negative press.”

  “Exactly. But once you get one big company to use your services, all will be forgiven.”

  “I’ve pretty much expired my rolodex. I have reached out to everybody I know, and everybody I thought I knew.”

  “It’s Atlanta. Why don’t you host a party?”

  “Yes! I’m going to have a Christmas networking party.”

  “A really lit party with no expenses spared. I’m talking open bars in more than one place in the house and fancy catering.”

  Both my eyebrows shot up and my jaw went completely slack. Sam talking about spending money? Now this was a new thing.

  “You know how much money that kind of party costs?”

  “I do. But this is a business expense. You have to let Atlanta know that you aren’t down and out, and that you haven’t missed a beat. Atlantans are the biggest fake it til you make it folk in the country.”

  “You’re saying pretend like I’m doing well?”

  “Pretend you’re doing better than well. Give them what they want. A picture of success. They’ll want a piece of that action.”

  “You sure you don’t want to come be a strategist for The Data Whisperers?”

  Sam laughed. “I would, but I don’t think I’m going to have time.”

  “Why not?”

  “I got a ridiculous offer for the follow up to Repetition for Emphasis, and a movie deal for both books.”

  “Are you freaking serious? When did this happen? Why didn’t you tell me?”

  Sam laughed while I peppered him with questions. How long had he been holding this information?

  “I meant to tell you before we left for North Carolina, but it never seemed to be the right time.”

  “Why did you need to find the right time? This is good news. Every time is the right time.”

  “Honestly? I didn’t think you’d be excited.”

  “Why wouldn’t I be excited?”

  “It’s not a multi-million-dollar deal. It’s only six figures. More than I thought I’d ever pull on a deal.”

  “Babe. I apologize if I haven’t seemed supportive of your career. I understand that you have to start somewhere. This sounds like a hell of a start.”

  “It is, but I’m also a realist. This may be the only time I ever see six figures. I may never see more than that. Would that be good enough for you?”

  “You are enough for me. I know you don’t believe it when I say that, because you’ve seen me on the paper chase since we’ve been together.”

  “I understand why, now.”

  “Yes, and although I never want to end up in poverty again, I also don’t want to be alone. We are good, and this is incredible news. I can’t wait to brag about you.”

  “You gone tell your friends.”

  I did a little hand dance with the steering wheel. “I sure am. And they gonna be jealous. My man boutta do some movies.”

  Sam took one of my hands and squeezed. “I am so happy you’re happy about this.”

  “While we’re talking about happy things, I want to ask you something and just see where your he
ad is on the topic.”

  “Okay . . .”

  “You stay at my house like four days out of the week. Why don’t you just move in and make some passive income on your place.”

  “Rent out my bachelor pad?”

  “Yeah. What do you think?”

  “Yes, I’d like that. Do you think I can turn one of those small bedrooms into a writing room?”

  “Absolutely, and you don’t have to ask me like that. When you move in, it’s going to be our house.”

  Sam had a skeptical look on his face.

  “You don’t believe me?” I asked.

  “I believe that you believe it. But, it’s your house, babe.”

  “So, you want me to move in with you?” I asked. “Because I don’t want you to feel like that. If you wake up and want to paint a wall, or change furniture or anything, I want you to feel free.”

  “Okay.”

  “Sam. You still sound like you don’t believe me.”

  “Maybe when we get married, we can find a house together.”

  I swallowed hard. Was that a proposal? A pregame to the proposal? Was he putting that out there to see what my reaction might be? Because without question, I wanted forever.

  “You okay, babe?” he asked. His voice sounded lighthearted like he was tickled at my anxiety.

  “When we get married?” I asked. “I don’t recall us talking about marriage.”

  “It’s a natural culmination of things, don’t you think?”

  “Is this a proposal?”

  “No, I don’t think so. It’s more like strategic planning.”

  I burst into laughter. Sam was teasing me, but he’d opened his mouth and said the m word. Now it was out in the atmosphere waiting to be acted upon.

  “Should I start strategically planning a wedding?”

  “Ooh, like this thing Kimberly and Ron are doing? He sounds stressed, so maybe not.”

  “He sounds stressed? What is he stressed about? He’s not doing any of the work. We’re doing it all. All he has to do is get on a plane, put on a tux and show up.”

  Sam shrugged. “Maybe I’m wrong. Maybe he’s not stressed.”

  “Unh-uh. Nope. You’re just trying to cover for him now. Spill it.”

  Sam laughed. “Only if you don’t say anything to Kimberly.”

  “Okay, I won’t say anything to Kimberly.”

  “Or Twila. Or any of the other sorority sisters.”

  Dammit. He got me on that one. If it was juicy enough, I absolutely would’ve told Twila.

  “Oh, shoot. Okay. I won’t say anything.”

  “I don’t have all the details. It’s something about his ex-wife and having his daughters in the wedding. I think his ex-wife might be giving him grief.”

  “Really? I thought she talked to Kimberly and they’d hashed things out.”

  “I don’t know if Kimberly is privy to the conversations with Ron and his ex-wife.”

  I shook my head and glared at the road in front of me. I knew that heffa wasn’t done with her shenanigans. She was working both sides. Putting a bad bug in Kimberly’s ear about a so-called violent Ron and bothering Ron about the girls being in the wedding.

  We were not going to let this heffa ruin Kimberly’s wedding and her chance at joy. The bride tribe was going to mount a defensive, and she was gonna learn not to mess with a sister of Gamma Phi Gamma.

  And Sam wasn’t slick. He’d deftly changed the conversation from the natural culmination of things to Kimberly and Ron. I would wait for the proposal before I started planning for an actual wedding.

  The first step was going to be getting Twila back to her own home, so that my man could move in.

  Chapter 28

  TWILA

  I’d been sitting in a parked car, dressed in all black, in front of the townhouse where I’d seen Alexander Adams, since six o’clock in the morning. Waiting for him to emerge. I had no idea what I’d do if and when he emerged, but I waited, nonetheless.

  I’d done some research. Alexander did own a home in this subdivision—with Fatima Adams. I assumed that was his wife. He dared to have a regular ass suburban life when he liked to rape women in sex clubs? I wanted to disrupt his normal life, like he’d disrupted mine.

  I imagined doing physical harm to him. Even as I sat in the car, I had a taser in my purse. It felt like whatever I did to him needed to include the taser. I needed to render him helpless like he’d rendered me helpless.

  Me just showing up at his home might not have been a good idea, though. It was Sunday morning. People slept in on Sundays. It could be hours before anyone came out of the brownstone. Or what if he wasn’t home at all? He could’ve been out for the weekend, looking for another woman to assault. I hated that he was free to do whatever the fuck he wanted while I was trapped.

  I dozed off for a little while. Didn’t realize it until my head snapped upright. I needed to not sleep out here. What if Alexander came out, saw and recognized me? Or worse, didn’t recognize me and treated me like a new victim?

  The anxiety started to get the best of me, and I almost gave up. I would come back another day after staking him out more thoroughly. Maybe a weekday like when I’d seen him before, on his way to work.

  Then, the front door to the brownstone opened. I sat up in my seat, adjusted my shades to make sure my face was covered well. I could barely recognize myself with my slicked back ponytail and black lipstick.

  The first person out the door was a little girl. She was cute. She had light brown skin and bright red hair. She wore a sundress and sandals and held a little bible in her hand. The kind they gave the kids in Sunday school.

  Next was a beautiful black woman. The way she grabbed the little girl’s hand I assumed she was her mother. The little girl’s red hair made me think that Alexander was her father.

  The little girl and the woman walked down the stairs and headed to a car parked in front of the brownstone. They had a garage, but the car was parked on the street. Maybe it was full of workout equipment or junk that they had put away never to think about again.

  Finally, Alexander emerged from the brownstone. He was wearing a suit and had trimmed his beard down from the last time I saw him. The trimmed beard made him look more like how he did on the night he raped me. It was unmistakable that he was the man who’d hurt me.

  Even though I knew I couldn’t attack him in front of the woman and child, I wrapped my hands around my taser. That along with deep breaths made me feel calmer.

  In Alexander’s hands was also a bible. He was a damn rapist going to church on Sunday morning with his family. I wondered if he’d repented for his sins.

  Jesus might’ve forgiven him, but I never would.

  I hadn’t intended on following them, but now I had to. Church was a safe place for people, and he was a demon.

  I waited a few moments after they pulled away from the curb, and I whipped my car around in a U-turn to follow them. I stayed just far enough behind them, that they probably wouldn’t notice me. I was in a nondescript car anyway. A blue Honda Civic that I’d rented just for the purpose of stalking a rapist.

  We weren’t driving long. They pulled into the parking lot of New Mercies Worship Center. It was one of the newer suburban megachurches in the area. I didn’t know anyone who went there, so it was probably full of Atlanta implants. I wondered if he was an implant, or if he just wanted to fade in amongst folk who wouldn’t recognize him.

  I wasn’t dressed for church, so I couldn’t go in. I’d be noticed and remembered in this all-black outfit. The prayer team would’ve probably swarmed me and taken my information down. I looked like I needed Jesus, salvation, and maybe even to have a few demons cast out.

  Little did they know they had one of Satan’s own sitting in their pews.

  This knowledge, of where the demon came to worship, added to my cache on Alexander. Also, the fact that he seemed to have a wife and little girl. These facts didn’t help me formulate a plan, but it made me feel more at eas
e.

  Alexander might’ve done the unthinkable to me, but he had vulnerabilities too. It made him seem less threatening to my existence. Anyone who had a child and went to church on Sunday morning could be touched and be made to feel pain.

  He should not have hurt me. Because now I was gathering a sufficient amount of tools to reciprocate.

  Chapter 29

  KIMBERLY

  Kimberly and Ron had decided to bring a caterer from Atlanta to Jamaica to cater their wedding reception. Well, Kimberly had decided, and Ron hadn’t objected, which was the same as agreeing in Kimberly’s opinion. They were going to choose the caterer together, though, so after church on Sunday morning they were having brunch/lunch prepared by one of the potential caterers.

  Chef Tam had a small café right in the heart of Atlanta. Kimberly had eaten there before, but Ron had not. He was going to be pleasantly surprised. In Kimberly’s mind she was the top selection, but Ron had a frat brother he wanted to try out as well.

  “Y’all looking good and blessed,” Tam said as we walked into the cute and cozy café. “I hope y’all hungry too.”

  Ron patted his stomach. “My stomach is about to start eating my back. That’s how hungry I am.”

  Tam laughed. “Well we better get you something good, chile. Sit on down, and let’s get this party started.”

  Tam sashayed off to the kitchen, and I clapped my hands. I was ready for all these yummy vittles too.

  “Did you look at the pictures of the flower girl dresses I sent you for Carly and Kayla? We should make a decision about that.”

  “Yes, they were nice. Was that African print?”

  “Sure was. It’ll go perfectly with our Afrocentric theme and all the customs.”

  “I thought so. Sabrina asked and I wasn’t sure.”

  Kimberly slowly tilted her head to one side. When was Ron having conversations with Sabrina about their wedding? Seemed like after what Kimberly told him he shouldn’t be speaking to Sabrina at all.

  “When did you see her?”

  “We met up in Charlotte a few days ago. I had to check on one of my properties. Plumbing issues. And she was visiting her mother with the kids. The girls wanted ice cream.”

 

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