Sweet Heat

by Zuri Day

  “How much was it again?”

  “Fifty thousand.”

  “Dang! I know you’re going to try and hang on to that man. But after getting that money, he’ll probably be looking to upgrade.”

  It was a thought that Naomi had not considered. The comment stung, and she was surprised by how much.

  “If that’s what he wants, then nobody can stop him. But I fell in love with Marvin before he won the contest.”

  “You’re in love?”

  “Yes, and this is the first time that I’ve said it out loud.”

  “Then I hope it works out for you, Nay. That way, at least one of us will be happy.”

  Misery loved company, and by the time the cousins hugged in the parking lot, Kristy’s rain cloud had soaked Naomi’s mood. The thought Kristy had planted about Marvin maybe wanting to upgrade women had grown roots, so much so that she almost didn’t call him back as promised. But then she remembered their earlier conversation, the laughter and flirting and how good she’d felt when the call ended. Immediately, she tapped her Bluetooth and gave Mr. Feelgood a call.

  * * *

  Marvin’s phone rang as he sat in Doug’s Culver City living room, less than two miles from where Naomi and Kristy ate breakfast. He hadn’t planned it. Doug had called him an hour ago with two words, family meeting. That’s basically all it took for all who could to drop whatever and meet up. He checked his phone and when he saw who it was, eased up from the couch and went into another room.

  “Hey, babe,” he said, his voice subdued.

  “Hey. Where are you, talking all quiet?”

  “With my brothers, at Doug’s house.”

  “Doug as in the one married to my idol? You’re at Jan’s house?” He noted how the volume rose with each word. “What are y’all doing? Is she there? Can I come over?”

  Marvin smiled, realizing just how much he dug this girl. “Jan isn’t here and no, you can’t come over.”

  “Why not?”

  Marvin imagined those juicy lips in a pretty pout. “Because it’s a man’s meeting. No women allowed.”

  “Are you getting back at me for not inviting you to breakfast?”

  “Come on, girl. You know better than that. My brothers called a meeting. I came over. Simple as that.”

  “Okay. How long are you going to be there?”

  “I don’t know, but I’ll call you afterwards. Okay.”

  Marvin silenced his phone and returned to the room. Byron was still talking.

  “The thing is, we have to move now. Leimert Park has been one of the hottest real estate markets in metro LA for the last four or five years, ever since it was announced that the light-rail would pass through it. That this group I’m telling you about was savvy enough to see what was happening, to combine their resources and try and preserve the legacy of that neighborhood, was nothing short of genius. And even with their deep pockets, they could only buy so much. And I’m telling you, their stock is selling quickly. For now, my dude is holding the place for me. But he’s not going to be able to hold it long.”

  “It’s crazy you mention Leimert Park, bro,” Marvin said in his mellow, unhurried style. “That’s where I want to park my food truck for the exact reasons you just mentioned. Not only that, but because it’s one of the few historically Black, culturally rich neighborhoods in America. I didn’t even know how significant that area was until I started researching the city for where to set up. At one time it was called the Black Greenwich Village, and boasted businesses, restaurants, clubs, art galleries, all owned and patronized by people of color. I think it’s a good idea, Byron. I don’t have any money to invest in it with you.” Then he added, after a pause, “But I’ve got an opinion and I think we should try and grab something, man. Why not?”

  Barry, normally the one least interested in anything besides fitness and women, listened as attentively as the others. “Have you talked to Mama and Daddy?” he asked Byron.

  “No, I wanted to start here and see who all was interested. Our parents have done their part. They’ve secured a nice spot in Inglewood that we’ll keep in the family. Now it’s our turn. It won’t be easy and it will be expensive. There’s nothing in that corridor under three fifty.”

  Nelson whistled, then duck-walked to the door. “Well, that counts me out.”

  The brothers laughed, clearly enjoying each other’s company.

  “Are these properties commercial or residential?” Marvin asked.

  “Both,” Byron answered.

  “Which type are we looking at buying?”

  “That’s why we’re here,” Doug said. “To discuss the pros and cons of either, or both.”

  Real estate talk continued for another hour, but eventually wound down. Beer and alcohol came out and those who could hung out until early evening. Marvin continued thinking about actually owning property in Leimert Park. He could envision his food truck being mobbed every day and twice as hard on weekends, parked near the light-rail or the park. Every time he imagined it, Naomi was in the picture. He didn’t try and analyze why that was or what to call it. He just wanted to hear her thoughts on his ideas. Every brother with a dream needed a sistah who could envision his dream coming true.

  Yours is going to be one of the most popular and successful trucks in the city.

  Naomi had said that about his future food truck. That’s why he didn’t see a future without her in it.

  34

  When the sound of laughter coming from the dining room had the effect of fingernails on a chalkboard, Naomi knew it was time to go. A group of Nana’s church friends had been there for hours. They’d had food delivered, watched movies, and now sat around the table playing Scrabble. When it came to who had the fuller social calendar, her grandmother was winning hands down.

  Even with people there to look after Nadine, Naomi had lounged around the house. She’d surfed the web, caught up on social media and got lost on YouTube, partly because there wasn’t anything else she felt like doing and partly to wait for Marvin. But it was now several hours past the time they’d talked. Were the brothers still meeting? Even if they were, Marvin could have responded to the message she left on his voicemail or the text she’d sent. At one point she’d checked her phone to make sure the volume was up and the indicators functioned correctly. Her electronic devices worked perfectly. Marvin hadn’t called. Obviously something came up that mattered more to him than she did. Like a beautiful, skinny woman?

  Naomi hated that Kristy’s earlier comments had her even giving such a possibility consideration. Worse, she hated the answer that came back to her. Perhaps.

  That was it. Naomi leapt from the chair with a single destination. Out. Of. There. She’d already changed from the maxi dress to a pair of ripped jeans and a faded Obama T-shirt. Opting for a sexier black tunic tee that flared out at the bottom with pink heart-shaped cutouts and a spray of scattered rhinestones, she switched to rhinestone earrings, replaced sneakers with wedges, waved goodbye to the ladies, and was out the door.

  Almost to her car, Naomi remembered something she needed to tell Nana. She hurried back up the stairs and stuck her head in the door.

  “Nana!”

  “That’s my name!”

  “Are you going to church tomorrow?”

  “I will if you take me.”

  “What time do I have to be ready?”

  There was a pause before Naomi heard her grandmother mumble, “Go see who’s out there sounding like Naomi. It’s got to be an imposter if they want to go to church.”

  Naomi walked into a room filled with laughter. She threw her arms around Nadine. “It’s me, Nana, and yes, I’m going. I promised God that night I found you that if He’d let you come back to this house, then I’d make a visit to His.”

  In her car with no destination in mind, Naomi pulled out her phone and scrolled contacts. She hadn’t talked to most of her friends in over a month, a circle that grew smaller with each birthday that passed. At the very end of her contact li
st, a name jumped out. Zena Johnson, a close friend in high school who’d gotten married and lost touch. They’d reconnected through Facebook and promised to meet.

  She tapped on the number and two rings later a low and cautious-sounding voice answered the phone. “Hello?”

  “Zena, it’s Nay.”

  “Oh, hey, Naomi! I didn’t recognize your number!”

  “There you are. I was wondering who the pitiful woman was that answered the phone. Sounding all nervous. Hello,” Naomi mimicked.

  “I normally don’t even answer numbers that I don’t recognize or are not already programmed in my phone. My ex is sneaky, and I always think it’s him trying to reach me.”

  “I can’t believe you got divorced, Zena! You and Anthony were so in love—oh my God, I used to not be able to stand you guys!” Naomi continued through Zena’s laughter. “Y’all made a cute couple though. If there was anybody I thought would celebrate fifty years, it was you two. What happened?”

  “What didn’t happen would be a quicker answer. Wait a minute. Tosha, get out of that! And get your brother. Your aunt Kiki is on her way.”

  “How many kids do you have?”

  “Four.”

  Naomi screamed.

  “I know, girl. That’s my reaction most mornings, when I wake up and discover that they’re still here.”

  “Are you back in LA?”

  “Right off Vermont.”

  “Vermont and what cross street?” When Zena told her, Naomi said, “I’m not too far from there.”

  “Come on over! I’d love to see you. What are you doing tonight?”

  “Nothing.” Naomi pulled away from the curb. “That’s why I called you.”

  “You should come and go to this party with me. Remember Patrick, the tall, skinny dude with the bubble eyes who used to live across from Loretta. He’s having a party. A lot of our classmates might be there.”

  “I’m on my way.”

  The first call from Marvin came around eleven thirty. By then she was pissed, having conjured all types of scenarios of what had come up to prevent their getting together. By then she was in a Long Beach club house with about a hundred other people who used to go to CC High. The music was loud. The dance floor was packed. She was on her third cup of “punch,” a sweet, fruity concoction dipped from large aluminum trash cans. Who knew what all was in it, but it was icy cold, tasted good, and had her buzzed. She ignored his call.

  “Naomi!”

  She turned around. Squinted her eyes. “Rodney?”

  He walked up with arms outstretched. “Thought I was seeing things. It’s been a long time. You’re looking good, Nay.”

  “Thank you.”

  “You still working at the 99 Cents Store off of Wilshire?”

  Had Naomi been sober, this would have been her first clue. He’d just said it had been a long time, yet he knew where she was working. But three drinks in, she didn’t catch it. His stalker history penetrated the haze, but that was years ago when they were younger. Surely he’d moved on. It appeared that way. They talked and joked, kept it casual. The conversation wasn’t long, maybe ten minutes tops. When he casually mentioned that he might stop by sometime, Naomi gave a vague nod, her attention having already moved on to finding Zena. She took the statement generally, like how are you doing, or see you later. Most people don’t really want to know how you’re doing and seeing someone later could mean in the next lifetime. The party was fun and it was good to see old friends. But when Zena finally resurfaced and said she was ready to leave, Naomi was right behind her.

  And Rodney was right behind Naomi, but she didn’t know. Naomi and Zena reached Zena’s car and got in. She started it up. The headlight beams captured someone slinking in the darkness toward another car.

  “What’s he doing?” Zena asked.

  “Who?”

  “Rodney.”

  Naomi leaned back against the headrest. “Probably being weird, as always.”

  “He’s not weird,” Zena said with a laugh, looking in the rearview mirror before pulling out of the parking space and heading toward the street. “Always was a little quiet, though.”

  “You know we dated, right?”

  “What? You and Rodney?”

  Naomi nodded her head and quickly decided that jerky movements were not in her best interests right now. “Ow.”

  “You alright, girl?”

  “What was in that punch?”

  “I don’t know,” Zena replied. “I knew I’d be driving and only had a wine cooler. How much of it did you drink?”

  “More than I should have.” Naomi sat up and rubbed her eyes.

  “You might need to stay the night with me and the kids. Can’t offer you much besides the sofa and some food, but I don’t want you out there driving drunk.”

  “I’ll be fine,” Naomi said. “But getting something in my stomach is a good idea.”

  She looked up and saw a California eatery institution. “Hey, stop at that In-N-Out.”

  Zena shifted lanes and once through the light, pulled into the drive-through. A few seconds later, a black car pulled into the drive-through, too.

  “I guess Rodney’s hungry, too.”

  “Huh?”

  “He just pulled in a couple cars behind us.”

  Naomi rubbed her rumbling stomach. “Whatever.”

  By the time Zena pulled up in front of her home, Naomi felt full and fully alert. The double-cheeseburger and large order of fries washed down with a chocolate shake and large black coffee had been just what she needed. Only once she’d smelled the food did Naomi remember that she hadn’t eaten before going to the party. It was an empty stomach, not an overabundance of alcohol, that had made her so tipsy so quickly. Still, she kept her eyes firmly on the road in front of her, being extra cautious the entire ride home. When she pulled into the driveway of Nana’s home in Inglewood, she paid no attention to a set of headlights from a car idling at the end of the block. The driver of that car, however, paid the utmost attention to Naomi. Once she’d gone inside and closed the door, the car eased down the street and by her house . . . very slowly.

  The next morning, Naomi kept her word to Nana and attended church. She enjoyed the service more than she’d imagined. The choir was excellent and there was a band. Both the drummer and pianist were real cuties, though something about their zealous playing and praising made Naomi wonder if either or both were gay. Not that it mattered. There was only one man on her mind, Marvin. Even if she was still peeved with him, so much so that she’d not listened to the message he’d left some time last night, or the text he’d sent her earlier. You taught people how to treat you, she silently reasoned, and figured she’d let him squirm a few more hours before returning his messages. Show him not to leave her hanging the next time.

  Church was over at just after one, but it was almost two before Naomi neared their block. “You sure you don’t want to eat out?” she asked Nana. “We could go to M and M’s or Harold and Belle’s.”

  “No, baby, not today.”

  “Are you tired?”

  “A little bit. All that shouting wore me out. It was worth it though. Praising the Lord with my grandbaby filled me with joy.”

  Naomi reached over to squeeze Nana’s hand, the grip becoming tighter as she turned the corner and saw a familiar SUV parked in front of their house. “What’s he doing here?” she mumbled.

  “Who?” Nana asked.

  “Marvin,” Naomi responded.

  “I like that young man,” Nana said. “Maybe next Sunday he can come to church, too.”

  Naomi let the false assumption that attending church would be a weekly occurrence go unchallenged. Instead, once she’d pulled into the drive, she turned off the engine, got out of the car, and made a beeline for Marvin.

  He got out of the car with a smile on his face. “Hey, girl.”

  “Don’t hey me. What are you doing here?”

  The smile from seconds ago scampered away from his face. “Didn’t
you get my messages, or read my texts? I’m treating you ladies to dinner,” he continued, rushing toward the passenger door that had just opened.

  “Hello, Nana Carson,” he said, as she placed her hand in the one he stretched toward her.

  “Oh, hi, baby.”

  Marvin walked Nana slowly down the short sidewalk leading up to her front door. “Naomi, do me a favor,” he said over his shoulder. “Grab one of those containers out of the backseat. I’ll get the rest.”

  By the time Marvin had helped Nana into the house and retrieved his goodies from his car seat, Naomi’s anger had vanished. Something about the slow-smoked baked ribs now warming in Nana’s oven along with stewed kale and cabbage dancing in a spicy tomato sauce made her forget why she was upset, at least until after Nana had left the kitchen, settled into her recliner, and turned on her Sunday lineup of preachers on the religious channel.

  “Why didn’t you call me back?” Marvin asked her.

  “That was my question,” she retorted. “For at least half the night.”

  “So you didn’t listen to my message, either? If you had, you would have known that I got caught up with my brothers and time slipped by. When I finally noticed, I couldn’t believe it was after midnight, or that you hadn’t called again to ask what was up.”

  “I don’t track down men.”

  “It wasn’t like that, Naomi, tracking me down. You know exactly where I was. I can’t say the same. Why didn’t you call me back after seeing I’d called you?”

  “I was out.”

  “Where?”

  “At a party, with a friend.”

  “Oh, okay. I don’t have a problem with that.”

  “I wouldn’t care if you did. I’m grown and can do what I want to do.”

  Marvin closed the distance between them and shut up further protests with his cushy lips. He swiped his tongue across hers and she sucked it in. He backed her up against the counter and within seconds her nipples had pebbled and her pearl had hardened, her body longing for more.

  “Naomi!”

  Naomi pushed Marvin away. “Ma’am?”