“What did you say to me?” Jessica asks, seething.
She turns on the slender heel of her black stilettos to face me, eyes narrowed, lips pursed.
Right now, she looks identical to her mother.
Bored.
Soulless.
A bloodthirsty man-eater.
You know the type. Capable of reigning terror on those closest to them while simultaneously hosting a party with a martini held aloft and a smile firmly in place. If frigid, wintery bluster were a person, I think her name just might be Jessica Johnson, and that’s not the woman I know. It damn sure isn’t the woman I love, and it’s leaps and bounds from the woman she told me she wanted to be.
Jess takes two purposeful steps in my direction. The movements tense with anger because she’s big mad. But I’d rather burn under her fire than freeze under her stare. So, if that’s what it takes to get her to look at me, talk to me, so be it.
“You want to repeat that?” she demands in a low voice.
“I said, am I not good enough for you?”
We face off on the opposite sides of the very clear line that’s been drawn between us on the crap linoleum tile in the maternity ward of this hospital.
“I tried to save us both the indignity of doing this in front of an audience but if you don’t care, I don’t either,” she says through clenched teeth. Her lips barely moving to form the words.
“It’s not that. I don’t…”
“Stop it, Daniel!” she snaps, cutting me off. “For once in your life just shut up. It’s too late. You can pretend all you want that our issues center around my age and family, but our issues started the first time you couldn’t man up and tell your boys you wanted to date Jacob Johnson’s little sister, or maybe it was when you refused to explain to your family that, contrary to the stereotypes based on the color of my skin and culture, nothing about me is stereotypical. Pick one. Hell, you can pick them both.”
Her eyes are steady on mine. The extrusive expression looks through me like the last six months never happened, like I’m a stranger on the street, unworthy of her time, and in truth I’m not. But that still doesn’t change the fact that I want to be.
“Jessie, please—” My voice breaks around the emotion clogging my throat. I take one stupid, weak step toward her on legs that feel like Jell-O, but she moves back raising her hand, palm facing out, silently telling me to stop.
“No, you don’t get to Jessie me. Not now. Not after that night. This? Where we are right now…” She waves her hands in the air and I’m not sure if she means the physical location or the emotional one. “It’s because of every half-truth you’ve told. So no, Daniel, you’re not good enough for me. And guess what?” Her voice scrapes over the words with gruff intensity. “You never were.”
With that parting shot she turns and with long, graceful strides she exits out the closest door.
I move to follow her, but a pair of arms wrap around my chest from behind.
“Nah, bro, you gotta let that shit simmer all the way down,” Miles whispers close to my ear. I break from his hold, but I don’t move to follow.
How can I?
Her words repeat in my head like an echo. Each reverberation traveling deeper, hitting harder.
It was all true. Every hurled accusation.
Every grimy-ass thing she accused me of, including not manning up and telling the world she was mine.
“What in the fuck did you do to my sister?” Jake demands, his face draining of a tired joy and quickly replaced with consternation. He stands like a centurion at the security doors that separate the delivery rooms from the lobby, clad in blue paper scrubs that cover his clothes. Hazel eyes, so much like his sister’s, stare me down.
Instead of regaling us with stories about Sin squeezing his hand so tight she cracked bones or what they named the twins, who I’ve lovingly dubbed Frick and Frack, he comes out to find me and his sister in a knock-down-drag-out. Not a good look.
His weary gaze bounces between me and the hallway his sister exited.
“I don’t know, man. I love her, and I think…I think I broke her heart.” The shock on his face is almost comical, but I don’t have time to appreciate it.
I take first one step, then another, and before I know it, I’m running full speed down the hall after my girl.
Chapter 33
Jessica
I stand in the shower until the spray of water turns icy, sobbing. Tonight feels like the end…of everything I know and all that I’d dared to hope for.
My family has been changed irrevocably by the actions of a needlessly desperate woman. There’s no coming back from Momma’s betrayal. The only positive in the whole horrid story is that Jake and Daddy don’t know. My God, if Jake had even an inkling…
He’d scorch the earth, casting our mother in dual roles as both example and sacrificial lamb. Connor will address the man who put the wheels in motion. And I will go to my grave with the weight of Momma’s ill-fated action. There’s no other choice.
And that brings me full circle to Daniel, his rejection the only reason I’d gone to Momma’s house and discovered the plan that had gone so wildly askew.
I’d hurt him tonight. As much as he’s capable of being hurt by me. I took a chance on him. One that blew up in my face. My pride won’t let me ask the one question that’s been a loud refrain playing on repeat in my mind since I showed up to the party that looked like a scene out of Sodom and Gomorrah—why, and my self-respect won’t let me dwell in the what-ifs.
I will not fall into the category of so many that came before me.
Daniel surprised me that first time at Adam’s house by choosing me. I knew then that I wasn’t his type of girl, and it happened again the night after the wedding.
Maybe I’d been too confident, too sure of myself and our relationship.
My skin is numb with cold when I climb out of the shower. I make quick work of rubbing shea butter into my skin and slipping into sleep shorts and a tank.
Kanye West’s song “Big Brother” fills my room from my phone, which is on the dresser, and I contemplate the wisdom of answering. If I ignore it Jake will only keep calling, so I might as well get it over with.
I tap the green button and raise the phone to my ear. “Hey.”
“What in the ever-loving fuck, Jess? Daniel? You’ve been fucking around with him?” he whisper-shouts.
“Obviously,” I snap, immediately defensive and irritated.
“Oh, hell no. You don’t get to ambush the birth of my babies with a scene I’d expect to witness on WorldStarHipHop and throw attitude.”
Embarrassment burns my cheeks and tempers my budding resentment because that’s exactly what I did. It was tacky and completely inappropriate, and I know better.
“It wasn’t serious,” I sigh. “And even if it was, it’s over now.”
Jake is quiet on the other side of the phone for longer than is comfortable, but I can’t bring myself to drive the conversation. I’m just about ready to hang up when he asks, “Do you want it to be over?”
His voice has evolved from a whisper-yell to one of big brother concern and it affects me the same way it did when I was younger and believed that Jake could right every wrong and vanquish every monster.
I spill the tea. Every single drop starting with the first run-in at the concert and ending with the most recent offense at the party. I omit the sexy times because he’s my brother and there’s an unspoken rule among siblings of the opposite sex. When it comes to sex, having it, thinking about it, or going out to actively pursue it, mum’s the word. I also gloss over the worst times because at his core, Jake is a protector with a default setting adjusted to seek and destroy. One mention of a disagreement and instead of listening, he’ll act.
All the above is going through my head as I navigate the story, my story, to my big b
rother and surprisingly Jake doesn’t interrupt, not once.
“You still there?” I check the phone screen just to make sure the call still shows it’s still active on the screen.
“Yeah. I’m still here,” he says with an exhale but doesn’t offer anything else.
“Say something…”
“You’re fucked.” A burst of laughter rumbles out at Jake’s blunt reply.
“Anything else?”
In the background I hear the tiny voice of either my niece or nephew crying. It stops almost immediately but the guilt I have for showing up on their birthday with less than honorable actions multiplies tenfold.
“Can we FaceTime?” I ask timidly. “I wanted…” to be one of the first to see and hold them. “I didn’t get to see them.” Neither of us mentions the reason I’m meeting the newest members of my family via video. We don’t have to.
Instead, the camera immediately comes on, inviting me to the video call, which I of course accept. My screen fills with a darkened hospital room and my brother’s face jostling about as he walks.
“Here they are,” he says in a whisper and turns the camera. Sin is sitting up in bed, one baby nestled under her chin.
“Which one is that?” I ask, mimicking Jake’s tone.
“Jess, you don’t have to whisper,” Sin says loudly and the video wobbles with the quick motion of the cameraman.
“Shhh, babe. Naomi just went to sleep.” Jake leans in, placing a kiss on Sin’s lips and another on the back of Noah’s head.
“Is that what you thought?” She reaches out to pat the little bundle in the clear plastic bassinet. “Naomi is fed but wide awake.” Sin nods her head in thoughtful understanding. “Is that why you went into the hallway to make your threatening call?” She flashes Jake a wide smile. “You do know that the boys have already told me everything, right? They gossip like a pack of church people after a cakewalk.”
“Did that fucker tell you he’s been plowing my sister for months?” Jake retorts.
“Jacob! Did you have to say it like that?” I practically screech. My voice lowers at that moment. I’m not trying to scare the babies.
“No, Miles supplied that little tidbit,” Sin cuts in with an eye roll. “My only question is why Jess didn’t tell me. Not telling you, totally get that. But me? I’m the picture of love and support.”
She says that last line looking directly into the camera, and I get the feeling it’s an offer of exactly what she stated: support.
Jake reads Sin as easily as I do. “Do not, woman.”
I can’t see his face, but Sin’s is bubbling over with mirth. “Don’t what, babe?” she asks with wide-eyed innocence.
“That thing where I come off like the asshole.”
“You said it,” Sin sings in a husky voice. “Not me.”
“You know what…?” Jake laughs and the tiny human in Sin’s arms jumps. My brother hands Sin the phone as he scoops his son up in his arms. I finally get to see a cherubic face and it’s love at first sight.
Noah is swaddled in a blue blanket, and a matching cap sits askew on top of soft, inky curls. He burrows into his daddy’s chest, wriggling until he finds the perfect spot.
“Oh my God, guys. He’s so beautiful,” I say around the emotion clumping in my throat.
“He is, right?” Jake smiles up at Sin, pride and love turning his eyes glassy.
“I’m sorry I wasn’t there.” Guilt that I let a man come between me and my first moment with the new members of my family gnaws in my belly.
Sin must be a mind reader because she says, “They aren’t going anywhere. Come hang out. We’re not getting sleep anytime soon.”
“Really? I don’t want to impose.” I’m already standing to look for my shoes.
“We’re family, Jess. Of course, you’re welcome,” Sin says.
Family. The only thing that matters. Who needs a boyfriend anyway?
Chapter 34
Daniel
“How is she doing?" I ask my brother, Chris, in a low voice. His eyes lock with mine, every line of his body stiff from holding back pending grief. He gives a quick shake of his head and drops his gaze before the tears pooling on the rim of the lower lid fall.
I grip his shoulder and squeeze, offering the manly sort of comfort that one gives at moments like this, but I know it isn’t enough. I feel like my skin is being flayed open and the dark overlord of hell is ripping my heart to shreds.
That sounds dramatic but it’s fitting. Everything about this moment is dramatic. From my family gathered in various rooms of my grandmother’s house on deathwatch as the monks light incense and every so often rotate the sticks clockwise to help usher her safely to the other side.
How stupid is it that I’m surprised, genuinely surprised, that the Alzheimer’s that ravished her mind, stole pieces of her identity, one memory, one moment at a time, finally began to ravish the rest of her body? At ninety years old, she’s lived a full life, but that doesn’t mean I’m ready to let her go. I expected to turn at my wedding and see her sitting in the front row. I looked forward to the day when I’d introduce my child to the matriarch of our family, and she’d pinch rounded cheeks and go on about said child’s beauty and brilliance.
My grandmother is supposed to be there for all the things. The little moments that are so frequent that we miss their significance, and the big moments fueled by pressure and nerves and definitive actions that shape the topography of our future.
I wind my way through various family members, offering cautious greetings and fake smiles as I make my way toward my grandmother’s room at the back of the house. There are fewer people back here. The air a little easier to breathe with the absence of others’ grief.
My aunt is seated in a chair just outside of my grandmother’s room. Her red sari standing out as too traditional, too East Indian, in my grandmother’s modern minimalist house with its stark white walls and clutter-free surfaces.
“Daniel, we were so worried that you weren’t going to make it in time.” Aunt Miriam stands, pulling me into a tight hug.
“I wouldn’t miss it. Let’s get this party started,” I quip, forcing my lips up into what I hope is more of a smile than a grimace. My voice comical and light. A lying contradiction to the reality of this moment but that’s what my family expects, what they need. Someone to lighten the load.
My aunt’s smile is immediate if not sad. “You’re such a good boy.” She pats my cheek, blinking tears from her eyes. “The first-born grandson. Successful. Handsome. Always so quick to take care of others. But I see you hiding behind that smile, Danny. You don’t have to carry this burden by yourself. You understand me?”
“I…” My voice cracks around the heartbreak housed somewhere at the back of my larynx because this is it. Possibly the last time I’ll see the woman who loved me without condition. The one who believed in me when I was living in a one-bedroom apartment with three of my best friends, rotating shifts and sleeping on the floor, trying to make it big. The same one that passed me money to make sure that we ate for that month and the one who, in one of her last few moments of lucidity, told me love doesn’t always come in the shape and forms that are expected. She’d seen the chemistry between me and a certain five-foot-eight, light-eyed brunette with the long-ass legs and sassy mouth.
Jess should be here. We should be walking into this room together.
“It’s okay, sweetie. I’ll leave you alone to say your goodbyes. And Danny…?” She doesn’t speak until I turn my eyes away from the open doorway to meet her gaze. “I’m really happy that you made it. I think she was waiting for you.”
I give her a terse nod and take a deep inhale, letting it out as I step over the threshold.
Of course I made it. What kind of asshole didn’t make it to his grandmother’s bedside in her final moments? Nothing, and I do mean not a damn th
ing, could’ve stopped me from being here.
Not the fact that I lost my girl, or that my band is in shambles because I was too chickenshit to admit I fell face-first for my bandmate’s little sister…sister-in-law…sister from a different mister…whatever title you slap on Jessie, the bottom line is that I should have manned up and been honest with Jake and especially with Sin.
When it all blew up in my face, I admit I took cover—and by cover, I mean staying in my house with the curtains closed, not answering my cell phone, ordering takeout, watching old-ass Netflix shows because it made me feel closer to the only girl I’ve ever wanted for longer than the time it took to have an orgasm.
So, it was either deal with this disaster or deal with that one. At least I know what to do with this one.
Inside the room, my grandmother lies propped up in the center of her bed. The blankets tucked tightly around her legs and torso making her seem smaller than she did just days ago. Her skin, normally golden brown and glowing with health, is sallow and dull, but for the first time in a long time when I look into her eyes, I see recognition.
“There he is. There’s my baby.” Her voice is a frail wisp of sound. I don’t think she recognizes that I’m me—Daniel—but she knows that I’m a member of her family. I walk the short distance to the head of the bed and place a gentle kiss on the dry skin of her cheeks.
“How are you doing, Nai Nai, good?”
“Andrew, always the jokester.” She thinks I’m my father, the baby, and youngest of her three children. “If I were old enough to be someone’s grandmother, they wouldn’t be calling me Nai Nai. It would be something more elegant or regal like Grandmama.” Her laughter is more wheeze than giggle.
“Where is Jessie?” She looks beyond my shoulder. “Didn’t she come with you?”
Even though she thinks I’m my dad, somewhere in her mind she remembers Jessica. That’s the hard part of this disease. The victims often look fine. They can hold a rational conversation, but the longer you converse the more things are mixed up, turned around, inside out, and right side wrong.
Exquisitely Yours: A Sin City Tale Page 23
