by B L Morticia
“I know, I…” I shrugged and took his hand into mine. I lightly kissed the back of it. “I wish people would leave us alone. Let us live our life and worry about themselves.”
“That isn’t how people are.” Santiago sighed and turned away.
“You okay?” I eyed him again. He appeared too worried about something.
“Yeah, I, um… got a call from Myles. The usual, I want you back, call.”
I looked at the ceiling and inhaled. If there was a name other than Mr. Emanuel Sumpter I hated, it was Myles Greyson.
“Why did you answer the phone?”
“I couldn’t ignore it, Jonas. Myles’s family is my family, even Myrna, when she’s clean, which isn’t often.” Santiago let go of my hand and shifted on the couch to sit closer. He grabbed my hand and returned the peck.
Although I was still worn out, a jolt of electricity rushed from one part of my body to another. Any little affection could get me started.
“I get it. You know he’s still trying to get you back. Why bother?”
“Like I said, I still care. He’s a good man and when he figures out you and I are permanent, our conversations will be better. Besides, I still want him to stop over. We didn’t set a time because I wanted to discuss it with you first.”
I smiled at that comment and met his light brown eyes. “All right fine, but when will he figure things out? This has been going on for the last five or six months, right? How many times do you have to spell it out for him?”
Santiago laughed. “I’ve tried many times. Still, I can’t just ignore him.”
“You can, but you don’t want to.”
Santiago blew out a breath. “No, I don’t.”
“You love him.” I already knew the answer to that question. Santiago had said from the beginning that Myles was his first true love and feelings like those don’t just disappear.
“I love you, Jonas. That’s all that matters.” Santiago gripped my hand tighter and brought it to his face. “We’re together and nothing is changing that.”
I nodded, fully appreciating that he told the truth. He wouldn’t voice his love, but I was happy he made his position clear.
“Good. Not that I’m worried. Okay, I’m a little concerned, but…”
“You shouldn’t be. You’re my everything, Jonas Sandbauck.”
I took his other hand away from his face and rubbed it against mine. I returned the smile and leaned in, kissing his lips. “I feel the same thing, Santi. I wish you wouldn’t torture yourself by even talking to the guy. I get he’s like family and −”
“Yes, but you’re first, okay? Give me a chance, Jonas.”
I bowed my head once and accepted the peck when he leaned into me. He laid his head on my shoulder and I wrapped both arms around him, holding him close to my body. I pressed my lips to the top of his head and stared out of the window, picturing what would be the future. Our future.
Perhaps I should think about making that proposal a lot sooner than I planned so it would solidify my place as first in his heart.
Chapter Four
Myles
After going out to dinner with Garrett and his wife Sherri, I excused myself from the table and apologized for not being good company. I know what they were trying to do, but I wasn’t in the mood for socializing or eating. I’d already surmised I was better off being alone this evening. Why waste a good meal when I had no appetite.
After blowing kisses at Sherri, I made my way to the front, then out the door to hail a cab. We’d come straight here from work so I didn’t bother driving in today. My mind was elsewhere. I wasn’t in the shape to drive, anyway.
“Taxi!” I waved my hand out, waiting for a cab to stop in front of me. It was a nice night out, so a lot of them would be working, especially around the Gold Coast. The only problem was I’d wait longer waiting period because I’m a black man hailing a taxi. It didn’t matter that my Rolex watch shone bright, or I wore Armani or Oswald Boateng suits. The fact remained, I wasn’t Caucasian. A problem many men of color, especially black men, faced in America.
Impatient, I glanced at the watch, wondering if I should hike it to my condo that was only a mile or so away. Truthfully, I didn’t want to make that trek in my current attire and get all sweaty.
After about three or so minutes, a taxi stopped. I got in, closing the door behind me. I rattled off my address and I could’ve sworn the driver squealed when I told him I lived at the Rothsbury Building. I guess he assumed a big tip was coming his way. I’d humor him, but I might also add you shouldn’t expect things when you aren’t sure. Not that I was a cheapskate, but I liked to compensate people who didn’t make generalizations.
As the taxi made the turn, I leaned back on the seat. It hadn’t been a hard day, but mentally exhausting. Between talking to Karl, the short arguments with Myrna, and Santiago, I’d wished I could crawl into a hole and not come out. My only hope being Santiago still cared for me. Even though it was a long shot he’d be mine again, I needed something to hold on to. He’d always be my man. I only needed to make him see it.
Thankfully, my feelings never waned, and neither did his. We could patch this up and move on as if nothing changed. Then I could be more social.
Then and only then.
Besides, I had a beautiful baby girl to take care of. What would I look like having guys parading through my place? I wanted to provide the best possible environment for my niece and dating like Garrett suggested wasn’t the right thing to do. I’d heard babies had the most miraculous way of picking up on things from their parents or others close to them. They could sense trouble or chaos. Having strange guys coming in and out of her life would only confuse her.
“Ten seventy-five Sir.”
The cabbie’s deep Chicago accent jolted me from my thoughts and I pulled out my wallet handing him a twenty. “Keep the change.” I opened the door and got out.
“Thank you, Sir. You have a good night.”
“You do the same.” I closed it and jogged up to my building on Lake Shore Drive. I punched in my code and walked in once the door unlocked. After waving to Charles, the security man at the desk, I headed over to the elevator and pressed fourteen. When it came, I stepped in and leaned back against the paneling. My mind ran a mile a minute with what things I had to do a lot sooner than later.
One. See Momma tomorrow after work. She had a doctor’s appointment and when I asked her if she wanted me to go along, she refused. If it weren’t so late, I’d call her.
Two. Take Macy shopping. A lot of the cute clothes we got from the baby shower weren’t fitting. She wasn’t breast fed, but that didn’t stop her from having a healthy appetite. The doctor said I shouldn’t worry because that was a good sign, especially from a baby born premature.
Three. Make plans for a little trip. I hadn’t been doing many of those since I gained custody of Macy. However, this one was a lot more important than the others. It had nothing to do with business. More like my life.
A trip to see Santiago. He had invited me after all, so why not take him up on his offer?
My man, my future husband.
Macy’s father to be, because it was only right he’d be the man to raise her.
Chapter Five
Santiago
Morning came too quickly for us because Jonas didn’t want me to go and I didn’t want to either. Sleeping next to him after another marathon lovemaking session was too good to wake up from. I had to remind myself I was only doing this for Ms. Denberry to make her appointment. With the library already short staffed, having both of us out would’ve been even more of a problem with the kids on break.
So, much to my chagrin, I left my lover in bed and went into work, sore from head to toe. Believe me, I had no issue with walking into work gingerly because of the pounding I’d received. I could use it as an excuse if patrons or co-workers thought I was moving too slow.
My position at the Cobalt Public Library was simple. I was a clerk, working only twenty
hours a week. Since it was only blocks away, I walked or rode my bike.
Within about fifteen minutes, I made it in and grabbed my card, placing it in the time clock slot. We’d be opening the doors at nine, which would give me time to grab a cup of coffee and put away books from the night before.
“Hey, Santiago.”
I slowly turned my head, meeting my coworker, Pamela Matthews’ brown gaze. Because we’re the youngest people who worked there, we seemed to take to one another immediately. She was a sweet girl who loved books and helping people. She went to school to be a research librarian and hoped to take the job once it became available.
Pamela was an attractive young lady, with a lean body, brown eyes, and curly brown hair. You could call her a nerd because of the black rimmed glasses and the fact she enjoyed watching Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles along with wearing Star Wars or Harry Potter t-shirts. She was a true catch in my mind if only she’d open up and date people.
“Oh hey, Pamela.” I shifted around and my body protested each time I moved a muscle. Grimacing through the smile, I finally faced her.
“You okay? You seem a little stiff.” Pamela’s lips were in a thin line. She cocked an eyebrow at me.
Embarrassed by the question, I nibbled on my bottom lip and looked down at my feet. I smiled when a vision of Jonas fucking me with reckless abandon ran through my brain.
Yeah, I’m stiff all right. Every joint in my body is.
“Oh.” Pamela blushed and grinned when she noticed my expression. “Well, at least one of us enjoyed our night.”
“I always do. You could too if you’d come out.”
That smile turned upside down. Pamela wasn’t into guys. And her bible thumping parents were one of those couples who enjoyed damming me to hell any chance they got.
Pamela cleared her throat. “You know I can’t do that.”
“You could if you tell them where to step off,” I scolded her.
Pamela shrugged and looked to the other side of the room. Although we had this conversation all the time, she remained scared to make a move.
“Look Pamela, I told you, I asked Jonas about you coming to stay at our place if it got bad. We have a spare room in the apartment we could give to you rent free until you got your own.”
Apparently upset, she looked back at me and shook her head. Those brown eyes held a sadness to them that made me want to reach out and hug her.
“I already told you, it’s not that simple. My folks will try sending me off to some conversion therapy camp if I told them I don’t like boys. I can’t have that happen. I want to continue to live here and stay in their good graces.”
“You’re old enough to make your own decisions, Pamela.” I said.
“I’m joking about the camp, but they would be mad, so…”
“And instead of coming out, you stay here and make yourself miserable in the process? Babe, that’s no way to live.”
“I know, but I’ve gotta do it so they’ll stay off my case. Besides, why come out when I can go party in Chicago or Champaign when I want to scratch the itch? Doing that, my parents will never find out.”
A chill raced down my spine when she mentioned taking a trip to Chicago. Talking about my place of birth always drudged up the bad memories. I cleared my throat and shoved both hands into my pockets. “Your folks never ask where or why you’re going?”
Pamela shrugged and sighed. “No. I always tell them to visit friends, which isn’t a lie, right? Or I say I’m going to a comic book convention. A lot of the times that’s true.”
“Yes, it is, but damn. Doesn’t it get tiring to sneak around because your folks can’t deal? And you wonder why your older sister ran away to Sweden and married a musician.”
“Yep. If I liked guys, I’d do that too,” Pamela replied.
“You don’t have to like guys to get the hell up outta dodge. You’re twenty-seven. It’s time you lived your life for you.”
Pamela exhaled and adjusted the frames on her face. “I know you’re right, but I’m just not ready to take that step. And like I said, I want this job as research librarian here in Cobalt. I love this place. It’s home. I’d always miss it if I left.”
“You could always come back.”
“But I wouldn’t have you to talk to.” She chuckled sheepishly. “I don’t have a lot of close friends. Only the ones I geek out over Potter or Star Wars with. They aren’t true pals like you. If I move, I’d be lonely.”
I shook my head and crossed my arms over my chest. Not without issues though because raising both was like lifting thirty pound weights.
“I get that, but there’s these wonderful inventions called telephones and even better ones called Facebook and Skype.” I cracked up.
She playfully smacked my arm.
“Ow.” I flinched at the contact and rubbed the spot she attacked.
“Sorry, but you deserved it with that smart comment. The biggest reason I don’t want to leave is because I love this place more than any other. I’m a small-town girl. I wouldn’t do well in a big city like Chicago.”
I only nodded because there seemed to be no way of convincing her otherwise.
Besides, I could relate, only for different reasons. Which had nothing to do with nervousness.
Fear of the past still haunted me and that wouldn’t change anytime soon.
* * * *
Myles
“Who’s my good girl? Yeah, who is she?”
Macy cooed at me and flashed a toothless grin. Her chunky cheeks glowed because Sarah, my live-in nanny, had just given her a bath. She smelled like baby oil and shampoo, so innocent and beautiful. I had to admit, even though I loved my niece, I preferred the smells of lotion over the other scents that came from bodily fluids.
Ewww.
“Mr. Greyson?”
I held Macy close to my chest, then carefully placed her in the white bassinet. She looked like a little angel, and I was sure when I showed up on Santiago’s doorstep, he would melt immediately.
“Yes, Sarah?”
She walked up smiling. “You know, she rolled for the first time yesterday. I would’ve told you last night. You came in kind of late and I didn’t want to disturb you.”
“Really?” I gasped at that comment and looked back at Macy who was making popping and gurgling sounds with her mouth. “She did, and I missed it?”
Damn Garrett and Sherri for making me miss out.
“It’s okay though, I have it on my phone. I’ve been recording her while you’re at work. I hope that’s−,”
“Oh Sarah, thank you.” Immediately, I ran to her, lifting her from her feet to hug her tight. When she squeaked, I put her down.
“Um, sorry, dear. I didn’t mean to−,”
She appeared flush around her cheeks from my overzealous bit of affection. “Oh, no biggie, Mr. Greyson. Macy is a doll. I love taking care of her. As a maternity ward nurse, I know all those things are important to parents.”
“Yes, they are.” My face hurt from smiling so much, listening to Sarah. “Can I see? Or, maybe we can get her to do it live and in person for us?”
Sarah nodded, with another big grin. “Yes, maybe we could. Let’s try.” She curled the ends of her hair around her ear and walked back to the bassinet.
Sarah lifted my niece up with such care and grace. Then she gently placed her on a play mat.
“Mr. Greyson, let’s get on the floor with her. They love it when they can see their parents at the same level.” Sarah got on the floor, about two feet away from Macy who laid on her stomach. Her fists curled up, and she barely held up her head.
“Ok.” I knelt down.
“Mr. Greyson? Did you see her?”
Sarah’s high-pitched squeal disturbed me.
She rolled.
My eyes opened wide as I held my breath.
Did she know how special this was to me?
She rolled again with a cheerful giggle.
“Oh my God,” I yelled aloud, then quickl
y covered my mouth because I knew I’d said it too loud. Thank goodness she didn’t get upset and kept paying attention to Sarah.
“Look at you, Macy. Keep going honey.”
Macy was making noises again and rolling from left to right.
As I watched her, tears welled up in my eyes. When she was born, the doctor said she might have issues because of her drugged out mother. I removed my handkerchief from my inside pocket and wiped my face. Then I laughed because it was glorious surveying my wonderful bundle of joy.
My Macy.
My little miracle baby.
Yes. Macy was everything right now.
Surely when Santiago saw her, he’d definitely want to be part of this unique and very diverse family. And I would make sure to send him a message with this video to seal the deal.
After an hour or so of watching and recording Macy’s baby acrobatics, I drove to my financial firm I co-ran and owned with Garrett in the west loop. With the help of his parents, we bought this building three years ago, free and clear. Then Garrett’s dad brought in his team of hardhat professionals to rehab the structure for free and turn it into a modern, functional office. The success of Greyson, Barnes, and Associates had quickly risen, making us one of the top ten minority owned financial firms in the United States. Apparently when talking about money, few saw the colors of our skin as a detriment. They only cared about sound advice on how they could protect their financial futures.
“Good morning, Diana.” I greeted our executive secretary the minute I stepped off the elevator.
“Morning, Myles. Remember, meeting at eleven and then a lunch with Gleason Jarvis.”
I recalled the meeting, but not the lunch with one of the biggest homophobes this side of the United States. He was one of our top clients though and to his credit, he barely flinched when he moved his fortune to us, from a bigger firm downtown. However, that didn’t stop him from barraging me with insults about my “choice” of orientation. I had to grin and bear it for him because the advice we offered was very profitable.
