She nervously went from one foot to the other. I could tell she knew she had said something she shouldn’t have, but why? Her eyes were moving from the ground, to the house, to the window, to the neighbors’ home next door.
I asked again, “How did you know about the results?” I moved closer to see what she was going to say. This caused her to back up. The more I approached her the more she backed away from me until we were standing outside of my garage and near her car.
“I don’t know. I heard it from somewhere I guess.”
“That’s confidential information.”
“I don’t know,” she said uneasily.
“Those results were only told to three other individuals besides myself and I know they wouldn’t mention it to a soul,” I said, visualizing me, Kea, my mom, and her dad. The only ones present besides us were the doctor and the nurse.
“I heard it from Kea’s mother.”
“How did she—”
Zacariah cut me off, saying, “Kea’s father must have told her.”
“And what reason would you have to keep in contact with Kea’s mother?”
Still nervous she said, “I guess we connected somehow.”
“I don’t believe you,” I said.
“It’s the truth.”
“You know nothing about truth, loyalty, love, or respect. You are a sorry excuse for a woman and I regret the day I ever let myself fall for you.”
“Derrick—”
“Hear me and hear me good,” I said, pointing at her. “I hate you with every morsel of my being. Stay the hell away from me before I have a restraining order issued against you. Now get off of my property before I call the police.”
Her tears fell as I stepped back into the garage. I turned and said, “I know you are lying about something, Zacariah. And if I find out you have been messing with my life more than what I know about, you will regret it,” I said, hitting the button for the garage door, closing it with her on the other side of it.
Chapter 10
Kea
I looked at the roses on my desk as my best friend, Terry, put on her best rendition of the R&B greats singing “Happy Birthday.” I laughed at her weak attempt to put on the performance of her life as she squealed into the phone line.
“Girl, you need to stop,” I said, laughing hysterically.
“Girl, I can sang. You did notice I said ‘sang’ and not ‘sing.’ That means I gave it my all.”
“I caught that,” I said, wiping tears from my eyes.
“Didn’t I sound like Patti LaBelle?”
“More like being in the bottom of a barrel. You know you and nobody else on this earth walking sounds like Ms. Patti. She is the queen of her craft.”
“So I didn’t sound good?” she asked.
I laughed, which felt good since I hadn’t laughed much lately. It had to be Terry to take me to the point of tear-jerking laughter.
“Terry, you sounded okay but don’t quit your day job. I appreciate you trying. It’s the thought that counts.”
“And here I was thinking I could get a second job being a singer.”
“No way. You better stay where you at,” I said, and we both chuckled.
“Let me get back to work. I just wanted to wish you a happy birthday, Kea. I’m coming back home tomorrow and I can’t wait to see you. I’ll take you out, that’s if you can find a moment to pry yourself from up under your punk of a boyfriend,” she said in disgust.
So much had been going on that I forgot I hadn’t let Terry know about me and Jaquon. She didn’t know about me and Derrick, about Mr. Hanks, and she didn’t know about my issues with my mother. Hell, she didn’t know anything that had happened within these past couple of months since she had been working in Los Angeles. She had business to attend to on some high-powered case defending some celebrity she wasn’t at liberty to disclose due to confidentiality. I respected that. She could say it paid her big money. I was proud that she had made it. Even though it was work for her, it was like a vacation with all expenses paid. I was jealous a bit. While she was living it up, my world came crashing down. I knew I couldn’t tell her everything now but I could tell her about me and Jaquon. This news would make her day.
“Terry, I kicked Jaquon to the curb.”
“Since when?” she questioned.
“It’s been over two weeks.”
“Why am I just finding out this wonderful information and what made you finally come to your senses?”
“It’s a long story,” I said.
“Talk. I got time.”
“But I don’t. I’m at work. Plus I don’t want to get upset here. I’ve cried enough rivers. I’m not trying to flood this place.”
“Damn. What happened? I knew I shouldn’t have gone out of town.”
“Well you had money to make and defenders to support.”
“You still could have called me,” Terry said.
“I didn’t want to bother you with my problems. Besides, it was nothing you could do about it anyway.”
“Okay, but you know we got to get together so you can catch me up,” Terry said.
“We will.”
“Now we got two things to celebrate, your birthday and now you leaving that bastard Jaquon. Girl, you have made my day. I’m ready for us to get our drink on. And don’t tell me you don’t want to drink because we both are going to get hammered,” Terry said with glee.
“I’m not trying to get drunk.”
“Maybe you should. Alcohol can make any situation look great. Ask the last guy I slept with. When I turned over and saw his face that next morning, girl, I almost jumped up and ran for my life.”
I burst into laughter again.
“Those drinks made dude look like Denzel but the next morning he looked like a gazelle.”
“Shut up,” I said, leaning back in my seat, laughing uncontrollably.
“I’m serious. My drunk self remembered him having a close cut but the next morning, Kea, he had predator hair. Alcohol can make anybody and any situations seem majestic.”
“What happened to the guy?”
“I kicked him out. I told him he had to go.”
“And he just left like that?” I asked.
“He didn’t have a choice when I pointed my pistol at him.”
“Stop, Terry. No, you didn’t pull a gun on dude.”
“Hell yeah, I did. Homeboy tried to insist he needed some more of my sweet stuff. He was lucky I was drunk enough for him to get it the first time. Sober sex was out of the question, especially when I had to look into his unattractive face.”
“But a gun, Terry.”
“You damn right. I tried to get out of bed and he called himself playing by pulling me back in the bed after I said no. Girl, I thought he might try to rape me. I managed to get loose. Then I reached in the drawer in my nightstand and pulled out Mr. Pistol. He almost pissed himself when he saw me point my gun at him.”
“Terry, you wrong. You rocked that man’s world. He just wanted some more of your stuff, girl,” I said, laughing.
“More hell. I wanted to rewind that mistake and get my dignity back. Dude was ugly as hell.”
“Girl, I’m getting off this phone with you. Call me later,” I said, still laughing at my crazy friend.
“Okay, girl, but remember we got to get our drink on when I get back. I’m trying to forget about my indiscretion.”
“Sounds like you had enough alcohol already,” I said, giggling.
“Which is why, again, I need to get drunk to forget.”
“Love you, Terry. Bye,” I said, cutting her off because I knew we could have gone on for an hour if I allowed it. It was so good talking to my friend. Terry always seemed to cheer me up.
I hung up the phone and stared at the gorgeous arrangement that was sent to me for my birthday. I thought about the sweet message in the card:
To the woman I love and will always love for the rest of my life. I promise to always be here for you.
The
card had no name on it. I had to wonder if Derrick sent it to me. I did tell him I was getting ready to turn the big 3–0. Maybe he remembered. Thinking of him made me smile.
Moving the arrangement to the side, I giggled, thinking about how its vastness was blocking my view of people. But I didn’t mind. It was too beautiful. Everybody couldn’t help but notice the extravagant piece, whose luminescent color lit up the office.
Many of them came by saying, “Somebody must really love you,” and “Girl, what are you doing to get flowers like that?”
I smiled, wondering the same thing. Whoever it was had indeed gone overboard sending me three dozen long-stemmed peach roses mixed with baby’s breath. The wide-mouthed clear vase held them as each petal reached toward the light. I pulled one out of the vase, bringing it to my nose to sniff. The scent was heavenly as I closed my eyes and thought of Derrick.
My phone rang.
“Kea Fields speaking. How may I help you?” I asked, still trying to sound professional.
“Hey, baby girl. Happy birthday.”
“Thank you, Daddy.”
“How’s my girl’s day going so far?”
“It’s been a good one thanks to Terry. You know I haven’t had too many of them in recent days so I’m going to take this day for what it’s worth.”
“I hear that. I sent you a little something in the mail. You should get it today hopefully.”
“Daddy! You didn’t have to do that.”
“I know but I wanted to.”
There was a slight pause and I knew Daddy had something else on his mind but he wasn’t saying it.
“Daddy?”
“Yes, baby girl.”
“What’s wrong? I can tell by the tone of your voice it’s something.”
“I don’t want to ruin your day,” he said.
“Spit it out, Daddy. I’m a big girl. I can handle it,” I said, hoping I could. I felt like I couldn’t take any more bad news but I couldn’t let Daddy know this.
“I’ll tell you some other time. It’s your birthday—”
“Daddy.”
“Okay,” he said, sounding defeated. “Has your mother called?”
As soon as he asked me that question my stomach churned. I did wonder if she would call to wish me a happy birthday, because I was still her daughter. But I knew she wouldn’t. Why would she? She hated me, and all because I was the child she birthed from rape. I wished she would see it wasn’t my fault. I guessed looking like the man who took her innocence overpowered the love she had for me.
“No, she hasn’t called me,” I answered.
“I’m going to call that woman and cuss her out. She can’t keep treating you like this.”
“Let it be, Daddy. She’s living her life and she chooses to do it without me in it.”
“But she acts like Emory is her only daughter. That ain’t right and I know it has to bother you.”
It did bother me. As much as Emory and I were trying to become closer, I still couldn’t help but wish Mother loved me as much as she loved my sister. Even though Emory moved away, we talked at least once a week. It used to be three times but now that she’d had the baby, her life was full of her husband and my little nephew, Jacob. I only fit into that picture through words spoken via telephone. I guessed I could make an effort to go see her but I was afraid to. Yes, she was my sister, but she was also the favored daughter. I envied that about her. I wanted a mother too, but our mother chose her and not me, so resentment still lay within me.
“Kea, remember that I love you and I’m always going to be here for you no matter what, okay?”
“I know, and I love you too, Daddy.”
“You enjoy your birthday and maybe we can get together this Sunday and go out for lunch or something. Or maybe I’ll come by and make you that jambalaya.”
“You know I’m going to have to invite Terry, because if she finds out you made jambalaya without inviting her, she’s going to flip her wig.”
Daddy laughed. “Well, baby girl, I’m going to let you get back to work. Happy birthday again.”
“Thank you, Daddy, and I love you.”
“I love you too,” he said before we both hung up without saying good-bye.
I wondered if I should take the bouquet of roses home, but as big as it was, I didn’t think I wanted to try. Plus, leaving them at work would give me something beautiful to look at each day for a little while.
When the sun hit my face I was happy I was free for another weekend. It was Friday, payday, and my birthday. Can this day get any better? I thought as I made my way home.
Walking into my apartment my feet were met with a wide assortment of what looked like rose petals. When I looked up, I found that more roses filled the room. Pink, white, red, yellow, and more peach took over the space. My living room looked like a flower shop. Smooth jazz played in the background and I wondered who was in my place. The aroma of food tickled my nostrils as my stomach began to growl at the scrumptious scent.
Shutting the door quietly, I gripped my keys and dropped them into my purse. With each step taken, my steps were hushed by the carpet and rose petals beneath my feet as I made my way to my kitchen. Getting closer, the aroma of succulent food led me. When I turned the corner, there was no mistaking who was in my kitchen, since I had been with him for years. I saw Jaquon standing at the stove, stirring something in a pot.
“What are you doing here?” I bellowed.
He turned, startled by my voice. “Happy birthday, baby. I’m cooking you dinner. I hope you are not tired of seeing flowers,” he said, smiling that devilish grin of his. An even bigger surprise was the fact that Jaquon had cut his hair. The cornrows were gone and now he had a close cut edged up to perfection. As long as I had been with Jaquon I had never seen him without his hair braided up or pulled back when no one could do his hair for him. He actually looked like a grown man now. I didn’t think he could look more handsome but Jaquon was sexier than ever. For a split second I felt a heat rise up within me that made me want to have sex with him right then. Damn he was still fine. Dark skin and all. And the wife beater didn’t help as his muscles bulged from beneath the thin material. I almost ran over to Jaquon and planted my lips against his but I didn’t. The fact he was a lowdown, dirty cheater stopped me.
“Kea, are you okay?”
“I’m just noticing you cut your hair.”
He rubbed his head, asking, “Do you like it? You know I’ve had my hair for several years now. It feels kinda weird.”
“It looks good on you,” I said, thinking it looked more than good. “So it was you who sent me those flowers today?” I questioned.
“Yes. Who else could it have been?”
My look gave him the answer and he turned his attention back to the stove with a hint of jealousy, which crept up in him. I looked around to see that the table was nicely decorated with a golden cloth draping it. Cream-colored candles were lit and white square-shaped plates adorned it, with silverware and napkins surrounded by a gold holder. Champagne and flutes sat among the grandness as more roses played center.
“I didn’t ask you to come, nor did I ask you to cook for me, Jaquon. I didn’t ask for the flowers, either.”
“I know you didn’t but I wanted to do this for you.”
“You didn’t do this when we were together but now you decide to do this once I’ve kicked you out and our relationship is over. Don’t you think you have this thing ass backward?”
“You are right, Kea, but it’s never too late,” he said, placing some Spanish-style rice into a casserole dish I purchased two years ago.
“It’s too late for us. I dumped you, Jaquon.”
“I know this. And I’m doing this as your friend.”
“Exes can’t be friends. Too much hurt and pain resides here.”
“But maybe we can set a new standard.”
“I don’t want your friendship. Honestly I don’t want anything from you. Well wait a minute. I do want one thing. I want you to
leave the keys to this place and never come back.”
“That’s two things,” he said, grinning.
“I don’t care,” I said angrily.
“Are you getting this angry because I’m here or because a part of you is loving what I did for you? No matter how much you try to tell yourself, Kea, a part of you still has to love me just like I love you.”
His words caught me off-guard. I hadn’t examined my own emotions but I didn’t think I had to. I hated when he twisted my mind up like this. My heart did flutter at the sight of him and he did look so good. And I knew he was right because no one can just turn love off, no matter how bad their mates treat them.
I wished I would have been smart enough to change my locks. Then I wouldn’t be dealing with this right now. I had to wonder, did a part of me want him to return? He probably thought that when his key worked, I hoped he would come back to me and give him confirmation I still wanted him.
“At a loss for words, I see. I gave you something to think about, huh,” he said, opening the oven.
“Jaquon,” I called, admiring his biceps as he lifted the fish from the oven and put it on the stove.
“Kea, I’m not trying to ruin your birthday. I’m here because I think you deserve this. Does it matter if all of this came from me?”
“Yes, because I think you are using this as a way to get back with me and I don’t want you.”
“Baby, if you want me to leave, I will. I will place all the food I prepared on the table and let you enjoy it without my company. I don’t mind. As long as you are happy, that’s what matters to me.”
He gazed at me with sincerity and I wished he didn’t. I wished the smug, cocky Jaquon would emerge and make this easier for me, but the man standing before me was someone I wasn’t familiar with. Yet it was the man I fell in love with. His face was the same and he definitely had the same body, but not the same attitude. It wasn’t even the same attention because this Jaquon was interested in being with me.
I watched him place the completed food on the table and place the reminder of dirty dishes in the dishwasher. After wiping down everything, he wiped his hands on my apron he wore and placed it on the counter.
My Man's Best Friend II Page 6
