Trust A Broken Heart

by Ivy Symone

  “She’s around I think,” he said with a chuckle as if that statement amused him. With sincerity he said to her, “I hope you find that happiness you’re looking for. And if ain’t in ol dude, you need to let that go. You know my story. I’d hate for a beautiful woman like you to wind up with the same fate.”

  Keyma said, “Yeah, I know. But he’s doing better.”

  Bebe gave her an empathetic smile. “Well, I’m glad. So, is it okay if I reach out?”

  She nodded. “I got the same number.”

  He went in for another hug. He had other things to take care of, and if he didn’t force himself to leave her presence, he would stand there on aisle three talking to her all day.

  He said, “I gotta get going, but be expecting to hear from me. Don’t be ignoring me either.”

  She gave him an amused look. “I ain’t never ignored you.”

  “But I know how you do. Be looking at a nigga message and won’t say shit back. You know people can see when you looked at shit, right?”

  With guilt, she giggled. “I don’t always do that.”

  “Yeah you do. I be talking to my damn self in the inbox. But anyway, let me get my ass up outta here,” he said.

  A soft smile rested on her face as she nodded in understanding. There was a longing in her eyes that made him not want to walk away.

  “Stop that,” he whispered with a tease.

  It made her smile grow brighter. That was what he liked to see on a woman’s face. Her resemblance to Miki had intrigued him a few years ago as it still did. Her vulnerability and soft personality reminded him of Miki as well. He knew from that alone he would have a soft spot for her.

  Trying to remember what he came to the aisle for, thoughts of Miki invaded his mind once again. He remembered the sadness that often sat on her face and how he desperately wanted to remove the stress behind it. He had been successful, and Miki once again experienced a life of happiness. But Redd just couldn’t let things be. And because of that, Bebe could never see himself getting involved with another woman dealing with an abusive ex, baby daddy, or boyfriend/husband she was trying to flee.

  Chapter 4

  G ift from God. That’s what Yanis’ name meant in Hebrew. At least that’s what Nola had stumbled upon during her search of baby names. Her son had indeed been a gift from God. He, along with his older brother, Mikael, was her everything. They both had come during a dark time in her life and shone a light that reawakened that part of her that she thought had died.

  However, as Yanis’ little wet hand smacked her across the face for the third time, she was really considering giving her gift back.

  Irritated, she groaned. She sat up and cut her eyes at Yanis. Her face scowled up as she said playfully in her country drawl, “Lil boy, you gon’ leave me alone.”

  A smile spread behind the green pacifier in Yanis’ mouth. His dimpled grin displayed playfulness and was so contagious. Nola smiled back at him which encouraged him to leap onto her lap.

  “You’re so adorable it’s sickening…And you get on my nerves,” she said as she snuggled him close. She loved the feel of his untamed afro of billowy curls as his head brushed against her chin. She inhaled deeply to take in the scent of him. She absolutely adored her little man.

  When she held him back to look at him, he had removed his pacifier and offered it to her.

  “No thank you,” she said. It still didn’t stop him from trying to stick the rubber nipple in her mouth. She tried to move out of the way. “Boy, I said no thank you! You done slobbered all over that thang. There’s no way I’m putting that in my mouth.”

  The doorbell sounded. She gave Yanis an over-exaggerated surprised look. “Who could that be? Let’s go see.”

  She hopped up from her bed and placed Yanis down on the floor. He pitter-pattered after his mother all the while with his teeth clenching the pacifier securely.

  The neighborhood Nola lived in was fairly safe. And maybe it was her blithe attitude, but Nola rarely looked before opening her door. And once she did, she wished she had looked before making such a decision.

  Dorian was on the other side of her glass storm door wearing a crooked smile that made her roll her eyes in an annoyed fashion.

  “Don’t do me like that,” Dorian said.

  With reluctance, and sure she would regret it, Nola opened the already unlocked glass door to allow him in. “Come on in. And what happened to yo’ ass calling before coming over?”

  “You wouldn’t answer your phone,” he said stepping across the threshold.

  She was about to allow the door to close until she heard the sound of car doors closing. She leaned out onto the porch to get a better look at her neighbor’s driveway. A lady had just exited a white crossover and was walking up the driveway to the front door. She noticed there were quite a few cars in her neighbor’s driveway. Why were there so many people at her neighbor’s house? Did they ever give that man a damn break?

  When Nola turned around, she was startled to see Dorian there. She had forgotten that quick that she had company. “Damn, mothafucka you scared me.”

  “You been smoking?” he asked looking at her with suspicion.

  “I don’t smoke anymore, but I was sleep,” she answered. She walked past him with Yanis still following her.

  “So that’s why you didn’t answer the phone,” he said with thought. He slowly followed her to her open family room.

  “Yeah, me and Ya just woke up. Well…I did. I think his ass was up before me,” she said smiling down at Yanis. Without him having to utter gibberish, demanding for something to eat, she was already two steps ahead of him. She walked into her kitchen to retrieve something to hold Yanis over until later.

  “Damn Nola,” Dorian remarked under his breath. “That ass have no restraints at all.”

  She glanced over at him with a smirk. “Stop eyeballing my ass, man.”

  Dorian made himself comfortable on her restored couch, the same couch he thought was so ugly when she brought it in the house. Nola scoffed shaking her head. He probably had no clue that it was the same couch.

  After pacifying Yanis with a bowl of dry Cheerios and a cup of milk and securing him in his high chair, she walked back into the kitchen to tend to a roast she was slow cooking.

  “Ma, whatever you in there cooking…that shit smell good as fuck,” Dorian commented. “What all you cooking?”

  Quite satisfied with the progression of the meat’s tenderness, she went on to give her simmering pot of greens a good stir. Yanis timing had been perfect. She didn’t know how long she had been napping, but that little boy had been right on time smacking her awake. Otherwise, she could have overslept and ruined her food.

  Nola answered as she did an inventory of her already prepared dishes and the ones in progress. “Well, my roast and greens are still cooking. I already made some baked mac and cheese, sweet potatoes, fried corn, pinto beans, and hot water cornbread. This shit finna be fye!”

  “Why you cook like that on a Thursday?” he questioned.

  She chuckled, “Boy, you know I cook whenever I’m moved to.”

  “When the rest of that shit gon’ be done?”

  “In a lil bit,” she answered. She asked, “You want something to drink? I got some good ass ice cold Arnold Palmer.”

  “Yeah, give me some of that.”

  Hospitality came natural to Nola. It was how she had been raised, and it was just a part of her personal make up. She took pleasure in being nurturing to the well-being of others. She felt like it was a part of her purpose.

  Nola fixed Dorian a glass of the lemonade and sweet tea mixture and walked over joining him on the couch. After handing the glass over, she sat down folding her legs under her in the process and stared at him.

  Dorian immediately threw the glass back but slowed down when he felt Nola’s eyes on him. Growing uncomfortable under her stare, he asked, “What?”

  She shrugged with nonchalance. Lazily she said, “You tell me. You the one sh
owed up at my house.”

  “Why have you been ignoring me?” he outright asked.

  “I ain’t been ignoring you,” she said casually. She was neither offended nor defensive by his accusation.

  “I ain’t talked to you since last Tuesday. And since then you’ve been ignoring my calls.”

  “I had a really busy week,” she answered.

  “All week? Really Nola? You don’t work outside of your house, so what got you so busy?”

  “First of all, nigga,” she began matter of factly. “I am a vlogger. Not only do I have to make videos, but I gotta edit them shits. And it takes a lot of time to edit videos before uploading them to YouTube. And nigga I gets paid, so don’t be dismissing what I do like it’s nothing.”

  “My bad,” he chuckled. “Ms. Vlogger.”

  “Dorian, what do you want?” she finally asked, her irritation starting to show.

  “Well…you know…I’ve been tryna get over here….”

  The rest of what he was saying faded as she tuned him out. She could see his lips moving but had no care for what he was saying. Dorian was her oldest child’s father, and consequently over the years had become one of her fuck buddies that couldn’t get it through his head that he was nothing more and nothing less in her life. He wanted more. Hell, they all wanted more.

  Dorian seemed ideal to settle down with and live happily ever after. He fit her type physically. He was tall, standing about six feet two inches. That was a preferred requirement for her five feet nine-inch frame of thickness. She would make exceptions for a few if they made up for height with inches in dick. Dorian wasn’t all that great in the inches, but he had some great head. He liked eating booty too which was a plus. Where Nola messed up at was requesting his head many nights, but not necessarily craving his company. Dorian mistaken her want of an orgasm to mean she wanted him. She had to break it down for him so many times, but he always seemed hopeful. Like what she said held no weight. And because she hadn’t cut him completely off, it was only her fault that he kept coming around.

  He was a fine brother that had a lot going for him. On the outside, he fit the script of a bad boy. His body was laden with tattoos which didn’t harm his occupation as a driver for a local cement company. See, he had benefits. What woman wouldn’t want him? He had that curly hair on top that tapered into a fade. Those curls were always questionable to Nola because if she didn’t know any better, this nigga was putting a damn texturizer in his hair. He denied it the one time she asked, but she wasn’t accepting that as truth. Aside from that, the rest of him was scrumptious. He was built nice. He wasn’t competing against any professional body builders any time soon, but his body was solid, and muscles popped out only when needed.

  Dorian also fell into that “pretty boy” fine category. Along with that faux good hair atop his head, he was light-skinned with pretty hazel green eyes. Nola didn’t care about all of that. It was those well-maintained thick lips of his that caught her attention. Years ago, she remembered wondering what his mouth could really do when he mustered up the courage to approach her. Two days later, she discovered that his mouth was absolutely great. A year later, she had given birth to their child. And she hadn’t been able to get rid of him since.

  “You want some pussy? Just ask,” she interrupted him. A teasing smile threatened to form at the corner of her lips. Even if he had come out directly with that request, she had no intention on fulfilling it. Those days were over and had been for some time. That was the reason for her avoidance of him.

  “Damn Nola. Why you gotta be so blunt?”

  “Ain’t nobody got time to be beating around the bush in this day and time,” she laughed dismissively.

  “Well whatchu plan on getting into later?” he asked as his eyes shifted to Yanis.

  Nola’s eyes shifted to Yanis too. Then she looked back at Dorian with wide-eyed confusion. “Uh…whatchu looking over there at him for?”

  “You plan to—”

  She held up her hand shaking her head. “Stop right there. Ya ain’t going nowhere tonight. And I ain’t getting rid of him either.”

  “So, when can you squeeze me in then?”

  “No time soon,” she said helplessly. “I’m going to see my mama this weekend; me and the boys. Today, me and Ya on chill mode. But don’t yo’ big ass got a woman at home?”

  Dorian dubiously looked at her with twisted lips. “There you go.”

  She laughed, “There I went. Ain’t ya’ll back together.”

  In reference to his off and on-again long-time girlfriend, Dorian said, “We talking through some shit. We ain’t really officially back together.”

  “That’s who you need to be hitting up then. ‘Cause I was gonna tell your ass no anyway.”

  “You be doing me so dirty,” Dorian whined. She could see the heartbreak gleam in his eyes.

  “I don’t mean to,” Nola said faking a pout.

  Dorian placed the almost emptied glass on the coffee table before him. He eyed Nola lovingly and asked, “On some real shit, how you been doing though?”

  “Good, I guess,” she answered coolly.

  “Is there anything you need? You know I fuck with you like that.”

  She nodded her acknowledgment. “I know. But I’m good. Between you and my other baby daddy, me and the boys are straight.”

  “You still fuck with that nigga?”

  It was the way that he said it that caused Nola to cackle with laughter. It was no secret that Dorian hated Bebe with a passion that she found comical. It stemmed strictly out of jealousy. And whenever Dorian made any reference to him, she could hear it in the tone of his voice. It was laced with abhorrence.

  “Why you hate him?” she asked with a taunting smirk.

  “I don’t’ hate that nigga,” he said lowly. “I just don’t understand why you be breaking your neck for him and he don’t give a fuck about you like that.”

  “It’s not that he don’t give a—”

  “Man Nola, quit that!” Dorian interrupted, aggravated. “You always defending that nigga. And I know that’s why you don’t wanna fuck with me cause of him. You keep waiting around for him. Me and you coulda been married, and lil Ya over there would be my son; not his.”

  “Well, that’s not the way it was meant. And not fucking with you ain’t got shit to do with him,” she explained. “But let’s not argue about this. Every time—”

  “Who arguing? That shit just get on my nerves. You too good of a woman to be waiting around for some nigga to come to his senses,” he pointed out.

  Nola’s eyes grew large with amusement. “I think this is a case of the pot calling the kettle black, sir.”

  Dorian chuckled realizing the hole he dug for himself. “Okay, I was stupid back then. I was a lot—We were a lot younger. I know the value of a good woman now.”

  “That’s great,” she said with sarcasm. “Unfortunately, it’s too late for that. How many times I gotta tell you that?”

  “Whatever,” he dismissed. “It’s never too late. All you gotta do is move on from that nigga.”

  “When I’m good and ready, I will,” she stated firmly. “Now, do you plan to wait until the food is done so you can get you a to-go plate, or would you like me to put you a plate up and you get it tomorrow? What’chu tryna do, playa?”

  Dorian looked at the time displayed on his smart watch. “I’ll wait. I ain’t got shit to do right now.”

  “You sure Valencia ain’t waiting on you to bring your ass home?” she teased, as she hopped up from the couch to check on Yanis. She had to pull her skirt out of her ass as she walked away. She was sure he was staring hard at her too. They all did.

  “Quit playing,” he warned.

  Changing her tone to a sing-song voice, Nola asked Yanis, “You finish?”

  He giggled and offered her one lone Cheerio. It was wet.

  She declined, “No thank you. You had that in your mouth already.”

  “Damn Nola,” Dorian said in an anguish
ed tone.

  She looked over at him and saw that he was looking over the back of the couch eyeing her body with desire. She knew Dorian wanted her bad as did most men. Some days she found it annoying, and other days she reveled in the power her sex appeal and appearance possessed. She even deliberately teased men with her assets just to get a rouse out of them only to turn them down. But Dorian was right when it came to Bebe. Like other men, he lusted after her body, but as far as making her his woman, that was nowhere in sight. She didn’t try to actively change that; she felt like it would come in time. Until then, Nola would wait until Bebe was ready.

  ~~~~~~~~~~

  Any time more than one woman vying for his attention was in the same room, drama was destined to erupt. However, since Bebe wasn’t feeling well, they seemed to put aside their differences. They played a silent game of who could take care of him the best. He had to admit; he sometimes got a kick out of it.

  “What’s up big baby,” Nephia teased. She was standing over him as he lay on the sofa in his family room.

  “When you get here?” he asked.

  “Just now,” she replied. Ignoring the younger girl’s glare who was sitting in the accent chair off to the side, Nephia made herself comfortable carefully sitting beside Bebe’s legs.

  Bebe heard the huff and puff of Cyn’s annoyed state. One of the biggest mistakes he made was fucking his youngest sister’s best friend from time to time. Cyn always wanted to tag along with Deja as if it was innocent, but everybody knew she only wanted to get next to Bebe.

  “How are you feeling?” Nephia asked with a genuine smile.

  “Like shit,” Bebe responded. He smiled, “But seeing you makes me feel a lot better.”

  Cyn groaned and abruptly got up. Before walking away with the attitude Bebe knew she would have, she asked, “Do you want anything while I’m up?”

  “I’m straight,” he mumbled never taking his eyes off of Nephia. The glow of her face emitted a warmth that he literally felt. Whenever she came around, his spirits were uplifted. Maybe it was the motherliness in her that needed to make sure he was all right, or maybe the fact that she was just a really nice, humble person.