by Tina Martin
Here’s where the prime opportunity for land lies – between the 36th Street Station to the 25th Street Station. And between the 25th Street Station on to the Parkwood Avenue station. If we’re buying land, it should be in the vicinity of this area. The NoDa area is prime real estate as you already know.
You didn’t have me look into this area, but there are plenty of opportunities for growth on University City Boulevard near the I-85 entrance. It’s all trees out there currently. I’m sure within the next five years or so, there will be apartments, businesses and maybe even houses out there heading toward Neal Road.
There’s a big push in Charlotte right now for affordable housing to the point that I hear there’s a waiting list for people with nowhere to go. Easy access to the light rail is a bonus for everyone but especially for those who already have limited income, resources and possibly no transportation. These are my findings. Let me know how you would like to move forward.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
“Romulus,” Ramsey said for the third time to get his brother’s attention.
Romulus snapped out of his trance this time. He’d been drifting, thinking about Siderra again. “Yes?”
“Thank you for the report. It’s exactly what I wanted,” Ramsey said. He told the team, “Just to keep everyone in the loop, I had Romulus do some land research for underdeveloped land near the light rail blue line extension and he found some properties between the 36th Street Station and the Parkwood Avenue Station.”
“Yes, plenty of available properties,” Romulus said glancing up from his tablet. “There are several vacant clusters of land all throughout this stretch of the extension. I thought it would be ideal for some affordable housing units. There’s a big push in Charlotte right now for affordable housing especially along the blue line.”
Ralph nodded. “I agree. You know it’s a problem when police officers and teachers can’t afford rent or mortgage in the city where they live.”
“I heard officials in Durham were taking steps to build housing communities just for teachers,” Gilbert chimed in to say.
Regal nodded. “I heard that, too.”
“What does everyone think about the idea of affordable housing units from SCA?” Ramsey asked. “We haven’t done those in the past.”
“I think it’s definitely something we should look into,” Royal said.
“I agree,” Regal chimed in to say. “It won’t be as profitable as our other ventures by any means, but it will give us the opportunity to do something to help serve the community and who knows—that could lead to more projects in the future.”
Ramsey nodded.
“Romulus, can you send me a copy of your report?” Regal asked.
Romulus didn’t say a word. He’d zoned out again.
“I’ll email it to you,” Ramsey said before adjourning the meeting.
Regal stood up, following Royal, Ralph and Gilbert out of the office. Romulus didn’t move.
Ramsey glanced up at him. “Rom, the meeting is over.”
“I’m aware.”
His brows raised. “Are you? You’ve been zoning out all morning.”
“I know, but—” Romulus looked down briefly, then looked up at his brother and said, “I’m cool.” He stood up.
“Hey—”
Romulus glanced over at Ramsey. “Yeah?”
“Do you want to talk about it?”
Did he want to talk about it? Romulus had so many thoughts in his head, he didn’t know where to begin.
“Sit down for a minute,” Ramsey said. He knew when Romulus sat down, he had a lot to get off his chest. And he knew what it was all about. “Have you spoken to her since Saturday?” he asked.
“No.”
“Do you plan on speaking to her?”
“At some point when I figure out what to say.” He released a long exhale. “I haven’t told anyone this but I’ve been taking classes at a counseling center—a class to help me get in touch with my emotions. How lame is that?”
“It’s not lame, Rom. Anything you do to improve yourself—to become a better person—is never lame.”
“Well, it doesn’t exactly feel good to need a class on unlocking emotions but I felt I had no other choice.”
“What do you mean?”
“I was trying to take a proactive approach—trying to prepare myself for what was happening between me and Siderra. I’ve known how she felt about me for some time now. Even when you were telling me that she loved me and I denied it, I knew how she felt. But I also knew I wasn’t ready for her. Knew I wasn’t mentally prepared to be the man she needed me to be. So, I’ve been working on myself. Taking these classes. Trying to connect with my inner feelings the instructor always says, but after three months, I still feel like I’m not connecting. I know I love Siderra. I know I love her more than a friend. She’s always been there for me and I can’t imagine my life without her, but I don’t feel like I’m capable enough to give her what she needs from a relationship. One thing I do realize is how jealous I was to see her with another man. I can’t describe the fury that burned through me to see another man open doors for her. Put his arms around her. Kiss her. I instantly felt like pushing the dude away from her and telling him to take his hands off of my woman, but she’s not my woman. I want her to be, but I don’t know if she ever will because she needs more than what I can give her right now. I was hoping she would hang on a little longer and give me a little more time to get myself together, but time ran out now and she’s ended our friendship.”
“She’s hurt, first of all. That’s why she reacted the way she did. I wouldn’t be too worried about the friendship.”
“You didn’t see her eyes. I did.”
“Look, man. I’m just happy you can admit you love her. I had no idea you were going through all of this.”
“Yeah, well it’s not easy to talk about.”
“You’re talking about it now. Your classes must be working. Give yourself some credit?”
Romulus hung his head.
“Do you think Derra wouldn’t be understanding of all of this? Now is not the time to separate yourself from her and hope these classes work. It’s time to get your girl, be a St. Claire and go for what you want. We all have flaws. Gianna loves me regardless of my many imperfections.”
“Yeah, it’s gotta be love for her to put up with you,” Romulus quipped.
Ramsey smirked. “Of course and look how long Siderra’s been friends with you. That’s gotta be love, too. Ten years is a long time, brother. You’d be a fool to let that go.”
“I know.” Romulus stood up. “I’ll figure out a way to approach her.”
“You do that. I’m sure mother will be looking for Derra at Sunday dinner.”
Romulus sighed heavily. “With all that’s been going on, I forgot all about that. Maybe I should tell her in advance that Derra won’t be there.”
“You don’t know that.”
“Come on…do you really think she’s going to show up at my—”
Romulus paused. It was then that Siderra’s words hit home: I’m not a St. Claire. That’s your family. Not mine. She was right. He realized what she meant now.
“Alright, brother,” Ramsey said when he recognized that it finally clicked for his brother. “You’ve got a lot of work to do.”
“I better get to it. Thanks for the talk.”
“No problem. Oh, and thanks for the report. Excellent work.”
“Yep,” Romulus said, finally exiting the office, heading for therapy class.
* * *
Romulus sat quietly in the back of the class as usual while other people shared their experiences. At the end of the class, he waited for Dr. Langston for another one-on-one session. In light of everything that happened between him and Siderra, he desperately needed one.
“Hello, Mr. St. Claire. I’m glad you came back. I thought our last conversation ran you off.”
“No, I’m here,” he said.
&n
bsp; “You got something for me?”
“I do.” He reached in his wallet, removed the folded piece of paper and said, “Here it is,” handing it to her – the Siderra-homework assignment she’d given him.
“Let’s try something different. I want you to read it to me.”
He unfolded the paper and began, “Losing Siderra would mean that a huge portion of my life—a third of it is—is gone,” he said, clearing his throat. In his mind, he could still see the tears in her eyes as he read words he’d written from his heart. “Uh—it would mean the end of a ten-year friendship—of the closest relationships I’ve ever had with a woman. It would mean no longer seeing her—” He stopped reading again and swallowed the lump in his throat. This was harder than he thought it would be. “It would mean not seeing her pretty smile and hearing her laugh at my jokes—only jokes she gets because she understands me.”
He took another moment. The assignment seemed more like a prediction because what he wrote is the very thing that happened. “It would mean not having that one friend I can count on for anything—not having the person I enjoy spending time with the most. It would mean not having my greatest supporter—a friend who doesn’t judge or criticize me. A friend I know would be there for me at the drop of a dime. Losing Siderra would mean that I’ve lost myself.” He swallowed hard again.
Dr. Langston saw the distress on his face. “Was that difficult to read, Mr. St. Claire?”
“Yes, it was.”
“Why?”
“Because it’s already happened.”
“What do you mean?”
“I was taking this class to help me prepare my heart for her, but I still don’t think I’m ready and the bottom line is, she couldn’t wait anymore.”
“Mr. St. Claire, you fought a lot of emotions to get through this letter. The emotions are already there. You love this woman and I think you’re doing yourself, and her, a great disservice to keep that love at bay. You obviously need and value her. You hold her in high regard, according to what you just read. Now, translate those words into feelings. There’s no need for you to keep torturing yourself.”
Romulus nodded. “I’ll give it a try. I have nothing to lose at this point.”
Dr. Langston reached to shake his hand.
Romulus accepted.
“Good luck to you.”
“Thank you, Dr. Langston.”
Chapter 17
Siderra
Crocheting relaxes me. I think it’s one of the main reasons I turned it into a profession. Today, however, I don’t feel so relaxed. I’m anxious and stressed. Taking Gianna’s advice, I took Monday and Tuesday off work which I now realize was good for me but bad for my artists and vendors who have products on consignment at my store. They rely on a steady flow of customers to see their products and possibly buy them. That can’t happen if I’m not open.
So, Derra’s Designs is open for business today and I’m crocheting my top-selling item – baby booties – when Jamar walks in. It’s still early so I imagine his shop must be dead like mine.
“Well, hello,” he says meandering toward me with a lazy stroll. I glance up at him. I haven’t seen or heard from Jamar since I saw him with his ex having dinner on a romantic, rainy night, which ironically turned out to be a sad, lonely night for me – not because of him, but because of what went down between me and Romulus.
“Hey, how are you?” I ask, but I’m not at all interested in how he is.
“I’m good,” he says propping his elbows up on the counter. “I saw you were closed Monday and Tuesday. I came up to your apartment and knocked. No answer. You must’ve been out of town.”
“No. I was just taking some me time.”
“Oh. How’d that work out for ya?”
And now I can’t even crochet in peace…
I have to put an end to the questioning. Honestly, I don’t want to talk to him about anything. No small talk, no upcoming concerts he may or may not have – nothing.
“Um, Jamar, I had fun the few times I went out with you—I really did—but I don’t think it’s a good idea for us to continue seeing each other.”
He frowns, stands up tall from his relaxed position on my counter. “Whoa. Where’s this coming from?”
I shrug. “It’s the way I’m feeling at the moment.”
“Let me get this straight. At the moment, you feel like breaking up with me?”
“Breaking up? It’s not like we were ever together. Three dates can hardly be considered a relationship.”
He threads his fingers through his loose dreads. “Why? There has to be a reason.”
I don’t want to give him a reason. I prefer not to. I want him to take what I’m saying, accept it and skip back down the street to his guitar shop. But he doesn’t move. He looks perplexed. So, I decide to give him reasons. “Okay, so I saw you having dinner with Meshal Saturday night. You were holding hands across the table. She was staring at you like her love for you could never die—”
“You’re wrong,” he interrupts to say.
“No, I’m not. Trust me. I know the look…know it well. It’s the same look I give to my friend Romulus. Just like you don’t know Meshal is still in love with you, Romulus is oblivious to the way I feel about him. Well, he was before I actually confessed. Now, I’m making it a practice not to hide my feelings any longer. Truthfully, I only liked you as an associate. We both own our little shops and that’s great. We have something in common. As for dating, I’m not feeling it.”
“Because you’re in love with your best friend—the guy you told me was only a friend which I see now was a lie.”
I stare at him for a moment as he digests all that I’ve told him. I’m not sure what else he wants from me.
A frown tears up his face. Undoubtedly, it’s the rejection that has him blind to what I’m telling him. Men hate rejection – even the ones who get caught having dinner with their ex-girlfriends, apparently.
He finally accepts what I told him and walks away without saying another word.
There’s really nothing left to say. If he can go to dinner with his ex and hold her hand, he can go date her. I have no more time to waste on a man.
I get up to stretch for a minute. Romulus comes to my mind automatically. I haven’t heard from him, not that I expected to. It’s funny how when we were friends, during the much happier time, I couldn’t imagine my life without him. However, circumstances have forced me to do just that – live without him. I’m already growing used to the silence. To no longer caring what his days are like. Or if he’s had dinner. I’m in the early stages of filtering him out of my heart. When my phone rings I no longer wonder if it’s him. I don’t count the hours to when I’ll see him again. I still think about him – I’m only human – but I know that, with the passing of time, he’d fall away from my thoughts.
Last night, I fought back tears to gather up all of his things at my place – two suits that smelled just like him, a pair of leather shoes, basketball shorts a few neckties, a toothbrush, toothpaste, deodorant, razors, a hairbrush, socks, cologne and a watch – all neatly packed in a cardboard box. I placed it in the trunk of my car to get it out of my living space. I don’t want to look at his items. I don’t want to think about him if I don’t have to.
The shop phone rings. I glance at the clock. It’s noon. Where has the time gone?
“Derra’s Designs,” I answer.
“Hi, are you Derra?”
“I am.”
“Good. My girlfriend told me she bought a pair of baby booties from there. I need a pair of blue ones for my sister’s lil’ boy. Do you have a pair?”
“I do. I made a pair yesterday.”
“Cool. What time does your shop close?”
“Seven o’clock.”
“Good. I get off work at five. I’ll be able to swing by there around five-thirty.”
“Okay. I’ll hold them for you.”
“Great! Thank you so much.”
“Thank you,” I
tell her, then hang up.
As soon as I do, the phone rings again. I’m running a hotline today.
“Derra’s Designs.”
“Hey, hun. How are you?”
It’s Bernadette. I immediately try to figure out if she’s calling because she heard what’s happened between me and Romulus, or if she’s simply calling to say hi. It’s not out of the ordinary for her to check in on me.
“Hey, Mrs. Bernadette. I’m doing well. What about you?”
“I’m okay…I figured while I had it on my mind, I’d call to remind you about the family dinner this Sunday. I know you couldn’t make the last one. Hopefully, you’ll be at this one.”
I sigh. Family dinner…
I can’t do the family dinner anymore. I’m not family – there’s nothing that attaches me to the St. Claire’s any longer – and I don’t feel like having dinner or being anywhere near Romulus right now. So I respond, “I’m not going to make it, Bernadette,”
“Why not, dear? Another date?” she probes.
That’s the reason I didn’t make the last dinner – I had the first date with Jamar. “No, not this time. I just can’t—”
“Come on by and spend some time with the family,” she breaks in to say.
I can’t give Bernadette the cold shoulder because of Romulus so I respond truthfully and say, “I can’t, Bernadette. I would feel completely out of place. Me and Rom are not talking and I um…I don’t want to ruin the evening for everyone else with our unnecessary drama.”
“What do you mean y’all ain’t talking? Did you get into a disagreement or something?”
I don’t want to disclose too much, so I respond, “Something like that.”
“You mean to tell me the whole family has to pay for something my knucklehead son has done?”
