by L. J. Taylor
Ivy frowned. “After who killed who?”
Karen waved a hand. “Never mind. I probably shouldn’t be telling you all this, anyway. Why the sudden interest in Luke’s life story? Don’t tell me you’re still thinking about jumping his bones. I thought you were swearing off men for the time being.”
Ivy reached over and hit Karen on the arm. “Fool. No I’m not thinking about jumping his bones. At least I wasn’t before you said that. I just wanted to know more about the man who might be watching Omari while you and I are in class.”
Karen smirked, rubbing her arm. “Uh-huh.”
They went apartment hunting that evening. Ivy took one look at a two bedroom apartment in Luke’s building and knew it would be perfect for her and Omari. The neighborhood was old, but clean and quiet. There was a children’s playground at the end of the block and a Head Start nursery school three blocks away. More importantly, the rent was within reach based on her new salary and the apartment would be available on the first of the month. Ivy couldn’t keep the smile off her face as she and Karen sat in the management office and filled out the paperwork.
***
Two weeks later, Ivy, Kathy and their middle sister, Mariah stood in the kitchen of Ivy’s new place. Ivy hadn’t seen much of Mariah since she’d gotten out due to her long work hours and crazy schedule as a federal prison guard in the men’s campus. She looked at her sisters, grateful for their help with moving in.
Although Kathy and Mariah shared Gwendolyn’s nose and facial structure, they were very different in stature. Maria was shorter than her sisters and more lean in build, but she was tough as nails and could be twice as mean when provoked. She also held a black belt in kickboxing. Male prisoners soon learned not to mess with her despite her petite frame and pretty face.
Kathy bent over and pulled a pot out of a box on the floor. Ivy walked over and snatched it out of her hands. “Stop that. You know you’re not supposed to be squatting and lifting heavy objects. You’ll hurt yourself or my niece.”
Mariah headed into the dining room, grabbed a chair and carried it back into the kitchen. She set it down and pointed at it. “Here. Sit down and keep us company while Ivy and I unpack this kitchen.”
“I can’t just sit here and do nothing when there’s all this work to do,” Kathy said.
Ivy frowned at her. “The doctor said you shouldn’t lift anything heavy or do anything strenuous. So what do you do? You carry half the boxes in here from the living room. Did you think I wouldn’t notice? I was just too busy trying to keep the movers from scuffing up that nice bedroom set you gave me to say anything. Am I going to have to call Charles in here to get you to sit down?
Defeated, Kathy sighed heavily and lowered herself into the seat. “No. I don’t feel like hearing his mouth. How do you know I’m not carrying your nephew in here as opposed to your niece?”
“I just know. Would you even know what to do with a son?” Ivy asked.
“I guess I’d have to just figure it out like you did. Besides, I manage when I babysit my adorable nephew.”
“My baby is adorable,” Ivy said. She looked out of the open kitchen and watched Omari playing with his toys in the living room. “I missed him so much these past few months.”
“You must have.” Kathy rubbed her belly. “I can’t imagine what it would be like to be separated from my baby for months at a time. That was a good idea Mom had coming to stay with us for a while to make the transition – even if she did drive us crazy those last few days.”
Ivy chuckled. “I thought you were going to strangle her if she gave you one more piece of advice about how to set up the baby’s room. I felt like a referee there sometimes.”
Mariah laughed. “Ivy, I thought you were going to deck her for constantly telling you what you were doing wrong with Omari. Maybe I was just secretly hoping you would.”
“What’s all this laughing about in here?” Charles walked behind Kathy’s chair. He reached down and wrapped his arms around her shoulders.
Ivy watched her sister smile and snuggle into the hug. “We’re just talking about how Mom drove us crazy last week. I hope you didn’t suffer too much during her visit.”
“Not at all. She was too busy jumping on you all to bother me. Besides, I got to enjoy some of the best home cooking I’ve had in a long time while she was here,” he said.
Kathy slapped him on the arm. “Typical! Just like a man. Feed him some good food and he hears nothing and sees nothing while the womenfolk suffer.”
“Speaking of suffering, that’s just what you’re going to be doing if you pick up any more boxes today. Imagine my surprise when one of the moving men asked me if that pregnant lady should be carting boxes around. You know the doctor said you have to take it easy. Next thing you know, you’ll be on bed rest.”
“Okay. Okay.” Kathy hunched her shoulders. “I won’t lift any more boxes. With the three of you watching me like hawks, I can’t do anything. I’ll just sit here like a bump on a log. I hate being helpless.” She crossed her arms over her ample bosom and pouted.
Charles kissed her pouting lips. “You are not helpless. You’re just taking care of our baby by taking it easy.”
“You should enjoy the rest while you can because after my niece is born, you won’t get any,” Ivy said.
“Any what?” Kathy asked.
“Rest, sex, time for yourself, time to think or anything else,” Ivy said. She looked over at Omari. “But it’s worth it.”
On cue, Omari got up off the floor and ran over to Ivy carrying his fire truck. “Mommy, Mommy look at my truck.” He squatted down onto the kitchen floor, made “zoom zoom” noises and began running the fire truck all over the kitchen. Ivy winced when he crashed it into boxes containing dishes and glassware.
“Omari! Sweetie. Please take the fire truck back out into the dining room,” she said.
Kathy, Mariah and Charles laughed.
Charles picked Omari up and put him onto his shoulders. “Come on, little man. Let’s go set up your room.”
“My room?” Omari’s little eyes widened.
“Yes. Your room,” Charles said. He reached up and tickled Omari who squirmed and laughed.
“No,” Omari said.
“Yes.” Charles carried Omari out of the kitchen.
Later, Ivy and Omari walked Kathy, Mariah and Charles out to the front door of the apartment building.
“Thank you so much for helping us move in,” Ivy said. “There’s no way I could have done this by myself.”
“It’s our pleasure, Sis,” Charles said. “Take care of yourself and make sure you lock that door tonight.”
Ivy smiled. “Yeah, yeah, I’ll make sure.”
Kathy let out a huge yawn. “I’m going to take my tired self home and crawl into bed.” She gave Ivy a hug.
“You do that,’ Ivy said. “You did entirely too much today.” She hugged Mariah next. “Don’t be a stranger.”
Mariah wrapped her arms around Ivy and squeezed. “I won’t, babygirl.” She squatted down to give Omari a hug. “Bye, little boy.”
“Bye.” Omari gave her a kiss, then ran over to hug Kathy who reached down to cuddle him.
“Bye Baby,” she said. “I’ll see you on Tuesday when your mommy drops you off. Okay?”
Omari smiled. “Okay.”
After they left, Ivy took Omari’s little hand and led him back to the apartment.
“Mommy, can I sleep in my bed in my room tonight?” he asked.
Ivy smiled. Here she was, afraid Omari would need some time to adapt to having his own room, and instead, he was thrilled.
“Yes, baby,” she said.
***
Terrell pushed himself off the wall he was leaning against in the hallway next to the mailboxes. He frowned as he watched Ivy and the kid head up the stairs. According to the mailboxes, she lived in apartment 2A.
So, Ivy had a son. The little boy had called her “Mommy” and her sisters “Aunty.” He looked like he wa
s about two or three years old. He could be Zeke’s kid. Wouldn’t that be some shit? He shook his head. Bitches just can’t be trusted.
Chapter IV
Zeke sat back in his sumptuous leather desk chair and watched his new girl, Katya, gyrate on stage on the large screen hanging on the far wall. Through the complex camera system he had installed, he could see everything going down in the club from his office. The cameras weren’t there to record, of course. He couldn’t have any record of his business anywhere, but they helped him keep an eye on things. You never knew when an enemy or the cops were going to stop by or when some fool wanted to get too close to his property. Each bitch who worked there wore the club tattoo on her ass so neither she nor anyone else forgot who she belonged to.
His thoughts turned to Ivy. She’d never wanted to dance at the club and he’d never made her get the club’s tattoo. She was different from the girls he usually got with – smarter, classier, more fun. She adapted to whatever surroundings he put her in whether it was the club, a fancy restaurant, a hotel, or an upscale party at a mansion he planned to rob. So he’d treated her differently.
Before Ivy, he’d made it a point never to see any bitch too regularly. When you did that, they got ideas. Ivy was the exception. She became the only woman he wanted to see. That is, until she’d gotten busted. Then he’d had to stay away. It surprised him how much he’d missed her over the past three years. Now she wanted nothing to do with him.
He shifted in his chair. So what? Why the hell was he thinking about her when he had his pick of any number of bitches who would jump at the chance to be his woman? He turned to the monitor, tapped a few keys, zoomed in on Katya, and smiled. Her garter belt and the stage were littered with twenties. The crowd couldn’t seem to get enough of her, and who could blame them? The bitch had a serious ass on her and she knew just how to shake it. Maybe he’d tap that tonight.
A knock sounded at the door and Terrell walked in. Zeke took one look at his face and knew something was up. “What?”
Terrell took a seat in front of Zeke’s desk. “You told me to keep an eye on Ivy. Well, she’s been busy. She signed up for classes at Miami-Dade, she got a new job in this fancy law firm downtown, and she moved into her own place last week.”
Zeke raised his eyebrows. “Really? Maybe she’s taking this turn over a new leaf shit seriously. Who knew she had it in her?” He shrugged. “Well, as long as she’s busy working and going to school, she should be fine. She won’t have time or interest in messing with my business.”
“There’s something else,” Terrell said. “She has this kid with her all the time. Li’l man’s maybe two or three years old. He calls her ‘Mommy.’”
Zeke frowned. What the hell was this? Ivy couldn’t have a kid two or three years old. She’d been in jail that whole time. If it was her kid that meant she either went into jail pregnant or she got pregnant while she was in there.
He got up to pace. It wasn’t unheard of for prison guards to knock up female inmates, but then the female prisoners were usually transferred and the guard fired if they found out who did it.
How could he not know about this? Even though he didn’t visit her while she was away, he’d kept tabs on her over the years. The only transfer she’d had was from the halfway house to the prison in downtown Miami. No-one had told him she was pregnant.
If she was pregnant before she went in, the kid was probably his. She wouldn’t dare have his kid without telling him. Would she? He cursed. She knew he didn’t want any kids. They’d talked about it. He’d seen too many punks get taken down because the government got all into their business to collect child support or because enemies threatened to harm their kids to keep them in line. He didn’t want any part of that. In fact, he didn’t believe in forming attachments of any kind that could get in the way of business. His mother taught him that when she abandoned him at eight years old to keep a mark from having her arrested. Why give your enemies something to latch onto? He’d gone into the foster system and moved from house to house until he’d finally run away and learned how to survive in the streets.
He rubbed his chin. Maybe he was underestimating her. If Omari was his and she was hiding it from him, that would explain why she wanted to break things off and why she didn’t want any part of the haul. She knew he’d be pissed and suspicious if he found out, but if she lied to him about the kid, she couldn’t be trusted. And if she couldn’t be trusted, she had to go. There was too much at stake.
If she lied to him, he would have to make an example of her ass. Otherwise, people, important people he needed to take things to the next level, would think he didn’t have things under control. He had to find out whether the kid was his. He needed to know if he could trust her. He turned to Terrell.
“Where does she live?”
***
Omari was watching cartoons in the living room and Ivy was washing the dinner dishes when they heard a knock at the door.
“Mommy! The door.” Omari pointed at it.
“I know, baby.” Ivy dried her hands on a kitchen towel, walked up to the door and peered through the peephole. Luke stood out there holding a large potted plant. Ivy pulled the chain, then the deadbolt, then the police lock, and finally opened the door.
“Wow, woman. How many locks do you have on that door?” Luke asked.
Ivy laughed. “Three. Blame it on my overprotective family. What are you doing here?”
“I’ve come to welcome you to the building.” He shifted the plant. “Do you mind if I come in? This thing is getting heavy.”
“Oh my goodness, where are my manners?” Ivy pulled the door open and stepped back. “Please come in.”
Omari looked up at Luke and the plant curiously. “Hi, Mister.”
“Hi, little man,” Luke said. “Where do you want this?”
“Is that for me? It’s lovely. Put it in that corner over there.” She pointed to a corner of the living room.
Luke walked over and set the plant down. Ivy joined him and stood there looking at the plant with her hands on her hips. She adjusted it slightly. “There. That’s perfect. Can I offer you something to drink? We have bottled water, juice, milk and red wine.”
“I’ll have a glass of red wine.” As Ivy headed to the kitchen, Luke looked around. “Nice place. I see you’ve gotten a lot done already.”
“Yes, my sister Kathy and her husband hired some movers and helped me set up. My sisters and I have a lot of experience moving. We moved around a lot as kids.”
“That must have been difficult.”
Omari tugged on Luke’s pants leg and looked up at him. “Mister, do you want to see my room?”
“I’d love to, little man. Which way is it?”
“Over here.” Omari took Luke’s hand and pulled him in the direction of his room. Luke let him.
“Wow,” he said, “what a nice room. Is that your toy chest over there?”
“Yes,” Omari said. “And there is my bed. And there is my closet with my clothes.”
“I see that,” Luke said.
Ivy watched them from the door of the bedroom with a smile on her face. Luke was good with Omari--patient and gentle. She could feel her attraction to him grow.
“All right you two. Let’s go back out into the living room,” she said.
They followed her into the living room and she handed Luke the glass of wine. She and Luke sat on the couch. Omari sat on his little Diego chair and watched cartoons.
“Thank you very much for the lovely housewarming present. Karen told me you lived in the building. Which apartment are you in?” she asked.
“I’m in 602 upstairs,” he said.
“I haven’t had time to figure out where everything is in the neighborhood. My mother took Omari to church on Sundays while she had him in New York. He loved it. We took him to church in Miami Beach these past few weeks, but I’d like to find one near here we could go to. Do you have any suggestions?”
“What religion are you?” he as
ked.
“Well, we were raised Catholic, but my mother sent us to all sorts of churches when we were little. She said it was so we could experience different religions and decide which one we wanted to pursue when we grew up. My mother goes to a Baptist church now. My sister Kathy and her husband attend a non-denominational church that has a great gospel choir. She’s into music. I suppose any Christian church with a children’s program and a Sunday school for Omari would be good.”
“It sounds like my church would be perfect then. I go to New Birth Baptist. They have several great choirs and a wonderful children’s program. He’d love it there.”
“You go to church?” Ivy asked.
“Is it that so surprising?”
“No,” she said. “I didn’t mean to be rude or anything. It’s just that Karen never mentioned that you went to church.”
“Karen likes to dwell on my big and bad days,” Luke said. “But those days are behind me now.”
“Are they?”
“Yes, they are. How about yours?”
“Mine are behind me as well. So, what time does church start tomorrow?”
“Service starts at 11:00a.m. You should get there early to find parking and get Omari situated,” he said. “It gets crowded.”
“Okay. I’m going to get him bathed and put him to bed. It’s past his bedtime,” she said.
Luke drained his wine and handed her the cup. “Thank you for the hospitality. I’ll see you and Omari tomorrow at church.”
Omari and Ivy walked him out.
“Good night, Mister,” Omari said.
Luke squatted down to look Omari in the eye. “My name is Luke, little man. You can call me Luke.”
“Good night, Luke.” Omari let out a huge yawn.
