Back to Me (21 page)

“You are so wrong,” she smirked when his tires screeched in her driveway.

Paige's sweaty palms slid down the sides of the leather steering wheel in her Lexus for the third time. She'd been sitting outside of Seniyah's subsidized housing complex for ten minutes, trying to summon the courage to get out of the vehicle and knock on the door. The development was surprisingly clean for a low-income community. Except for the sporadically placed candle and T-shirt memorials in honor of lost lives, the streets were free of litter. However, from the confines of her locked vehicle, Paige had already witnessed two drug transactions and a young pimp on a bicycle chastising one of his girls.

She was having second thoughts, had been since she'd calmed down after running Sergio-Xavier off last night. She still couldn't remember everything she'd said to him, but what she did recall left her too embarrassed to look in the mirror. They didn't have to end like that, but he didn't have to say what he said, either. He could have kept his opinion to himself and supported her, but no, he had to psychoanalyze her and call into question her motive for every decision she'd made. Forgiveness, she would never grant him, but she would prove him wrong and gloat. Despite what he'd said, it was her divine purpose to help Seniyah.

She stepped from the car and checked her attire, hoping the jeans and Nikes made her look less conspicuous. She reached into the backseat and retrieved the items she'd purchased for Seniyah on that disastrous shopping trip. She hadn't brought her purse, instead opting to slip her phone and keys into her front jean pocket after setting the power locks in her car.

“Don't go in there.”

Paige stopped before stepping onto the sidewalk and looked around for the source of the voice. She saw no one and stepped over the grass.

“Let it go.”

The soft voice spoke again, but this time with more urgency. Paige looked down both sides of the street. No one was there. “I must be losing my mind,” she mumbled, then continued up the walkway and pressed the doorbell.

Paige had met Seniyah's mother twice before, but on those occasions she didn't look like the fashion queen who was standing before her now. The baggy fleece sweatpants and shirt had been replaced with designer jeans and a silk blouse. The head that was once home to matted cornrows was now covered with long, curly honey-blond locks. Her fingertips were covered with designer acrylic nails, and her face gave the impression that she'd just stepped from the M•A•C counter at Macy's.

“Ms. King?” Paige asked to be sure this was the same woman. “How are you?”

“Seniyah didn't tell me you were coming by.” The woman didn't bother returning the greeting and didn't invite Paige in, either.

Thrown off by her abrasiveness, Paige rushed her response. “She didn't know I was coming. Since she left the junior entrepreneur group, I haven't seen her much, and I was worried about her.” When the woman continued glaring at her, Paige held the bags out. “I brought some things for her.”

Ms. King's facial expression softened. “Well, come on in.” She stepped aside to let Paige enter. “Seniyah!” she called up the stairs and then led Paige into the living room.

Paige had assumed Seniyah lived with meager provisions. After all, the girl visited the food bank on a regular basis. The leather furniture and mounted big-screen television were a surprise. So was the floor-to-ceiling, three-piece oak multimedia unit. Paige sat down and tried to make sense of her surroundings. How could someone in Ms. King's position afford all this stuff?

The woman must be a drug dealer. I have to get Seniyah and the baby out of here,
Paige thought.

“Yes, Mama?” Seniyah entered the living room in sweats and a T-shirt. She was barefoot, and her feet had swelled to the point where they looked like someone had injected a liter of fluid into each foot. Her hands and face hadn't fared much better.

“You have a visitor,” Ms. King announced, sitting back in the leather recliner.

“Ms. McDaniels, what are you doing here?” Seniyah asked.

Paige forced her eyes from Seniyah's protruding stomach and made eye contact with the girl who carried her redemption. “How have you been? You haven't returned any of the messages I left with your counselor.”

“I've been busy,” Seniyah, answered while shrugging her shoulders. “Is there something you want?”

Paige uncrossed and recrossed her legs. “I wanted to drop these off.” She pointed to the bags she'd placed on the floor. “You forgot these when we went shopping.”

“Oh yeah. Thanks.”

Paige's heart constricted at the dry and unappreciative response, but she pressed forward, anyway. “I also wanted to talk to you about the baby.”

Seniyah sat on the love seat adjacent to Paige and rubbed her stomach. “What about my baby?”

Paige rubbed her sweaty palms against her jeans. She wished they could have this conversation without Ms. King around, but that wasn't going to happen. Ms. King was leaning back, reading a magazine. “I was serious when I said I was going to help you take care of the baby while you attend college.”

“What do you plan to do? Pay for child care until my name comes up on the list? Or buy me a car so I won't have to take public transportation?” Seniyah leaned forward expectantly. “Since you're in real estate, maybe you can put me up in an apartment.”

Paige shook her head as if to clear it. Where was Seniyah getting these outrageous ideas from? “Actually, I was thinking of something more stable and reasonable.”

“Like what?”

Paige measured her words to keep from stuttering. “I have the room, and I am willing to keep the baby for you so you can focus totally on school. All you have to do is grant me temporary guardianship, and I'll make sure all his health needs are met. You won't have to worry about food or clothing. I'll take care of everything. I have a spare bedroom you can stay in on weekends and during school breaks.” Paige took a long breath, but she didn't feel the relief she'd expected. Quite the contrary, as fear gripped her. She was about to lose something, but she didn't know what.

“Woman, have you lost your mind?” Ms. King threw down the magazine and jumped to her feet.

It took Seniyah longer to stand, but she wanted to know the same thing. “Are you crazy? You want me to
give
you my baby?”

“No, that's not what I'm saying,” Paige responded, defending herself. “I want to help you take care of your baby, that's all,” she added, although she wasn't so sure anymore.

Ms. King stood over Paige and pointed an acrylic nail in her face. “I told Seniyah when you made it your mission to get her that scholarship that we could use you for a few things. I was thinking a car, but I didn't know you were crazy enough to try to take her baby.”

Paige's face stung, as if she'd been physically slapped. “What do you mean,
use
me?”

Ms. King broke it down for her. “Look around, Ms. Do-gooder. We don't need you or your money. We know how to work the system quite well to get what we need. For what the system doesn't provide, there are dumb church folks like you willing to make up the difference.”

Paige felt herself shrinking as Seniyah and her mother took turns pointing out her stupidity.

“You took one look at me and assumed I needed you to rescue me,” Seniyah pointed out. “I didn't
need
you to help me get into Stanford. I started that process long before I met you. You brought me that wool coat because you thought I didn't have one. You never asked me what I needed. For your information, I have a closet full of designer clothes and coats. I just don't wear them to school or around you. I don't need you to take care of my baby. His daddy will provide everything he needs and a car for me to drive.”

Paige's head snapped up. “How can he if he doesn't have a job?”

Seniyah shook her head. “You are really dumber than you look. Do you really think I'm dumb enough to get pregnant by a man without a job? My mama taught me better than that.”

The image of mother and daughter exchanging high fives nearly made Paige gag.

“I fed you that ridiculous story to see what I could get from you. My baby daddy is a forty-year-old, married business owner who will do anything to keep his wife from finding out about his love child. I'll have an apartment and a car before I leave for school, and I'll get a monthly allowance.”

For the second time in less than twenty-four hours Paige had an out-of-body experience, but this time she wasn't the one in control. They were. She wouldn't win this battle.

“Why?” she whispered. “Why did you do this to me?”

Seniyah smirked. “Don't blame us because you judged a book by its cover.”

“You're a church lady, right?” Ms. King asked.

Paige nodded her response.

“Then you should try praying before casting your pearls before swine next time.” Ms. King laughed. “And doesn't the Bible say something about testing the spirits to see if they are godly or not?”

Sinister laughter pounded Paige's head as mother and daughter continued mocking her and her faith. The invisible weight bearing down on her chest and the imaginary chains encasing her legs made it nearly impossible to move. She didn't pray for strength; instead, Paige relied on herself and ran out of the apartment. When she tripped and fell down the steps and landed on her face, the image of Seniyah and her mother pointing and making fun of her was fuel enough for her to get up and hop to the car without asking for help.

Her body shook uncontrollably and she dropped her keys twice before stilling her hand enough to deactivate the alarm and unlock the door. When she pulled into her driveway twenty minutes late, Paige didn't know how she'd made it home. One thing was certain. She was never leaving there again.

Paige let the bags fall from her arms and ran to grant the little boy his wish. She'd walked through the neighborhood park on numerous occasions, but she'd never seen this brown- skinned kid with hazel eyes before. He was too adorable in his jeans and Disney
Cars
T-shirt with the matching shoes.

Violent tremors sent Paige thrashing around the bed, but unlike the two previous times she'd had the dream, she didn't acquire any new wounds. The first time she tried to escape the dream, she bruised her left elbow on the nightstand. The second time had her running for cover and twisting her right ankle, just as she'd done during her escape from Seniyah's house. Her foot had given way, causing her right knee to crash onto the hardwood floor. Her cries of agony had gone unheard and unanswered as she crawled back into bed.

Her whole body ached. The down comforter she loved so much and the six-hundred-thread-count sheets were soaked with a mixture of sweat, water from the melted ice she'd used to numb her ankle, and urine. She couldn't remember exactly how many times, but at least twice she had tried to slide off the bed and hop to the bathroom and had failed. For once she didn't care how she looked or smelled. She didn't care about anything; she'd completely surrendered to depression.

Her stomach stirred. It seemed like the second consciousness set in, her stomach churned. She forced her eyes open, only to be greeted by the sunlight peeking through the drapes. She'd seen sunlight at least three times since returning home and collapsing on the bed after Seniyah's betrayal, but she wasn't sure if it was the same sunlight or a different day.

“Oh no,” she groaned while clawing her way through the mangled bedcovering. Not only was her stomach awake, but her bladder had also decided to join the party. Too weak to stand and hop, Paige maneuvered her way to the floor and attempted to crawl across the hardwood to the bathroom. When she was less than halfway there, a sharp pain shot through her right ankle, causing her to wail and lose the battle with her stomach and bladder. Figuring the end had to be near, Paige lay in the mess and wept until another deep sleep overtook her.

 

 

Sergio-Xavier checked his watch, just in case the clock on the wall was wrong. Unfortunately for him, the Rolex confirmed what he feared—it was only 10:30 a.m. Another ninety minutes to kill. Tuesday mornings were his downtime, when he caught up on dictation, returned patient e-mails, or read medical journals. The last several Tuesday mornings he'd spent the majority of this time courting Paige.

For a split second he considered calling her but quickly dismissed the thought. He was done. She'd crossed the line. He didn't expect the woman who could potentially wear his name to be perfect, but he did expect her to respect him as a man. Paige had proved she had more regard for a dog, and because of that, whatever plans he had for their future had been canceled. He would honor his promise to DWAP, but after that Paige McDaniels would be completely erased from his agenda. Just like with Nicole, he hurt, but he would survive.

His intercom sounded just as he opened a medical journal. “Dr. Simone, there are some people here to see you,” the secretary announced.

He wasn't expecting anyone and checked the schedule on his iPhone before responding. “Is it a patient?”

He heard a smirk. “I doubt it, but from the looks of things, you may have to treat one or two of them in the near future.”

He had lost his tolerance for drama four days ago, when he walked out on Paige. Whoever was there to see him had better have a clear purpose and not waste his time.

“Send them in.”

Sergio-Xavier reached for his lab coat. He'd gotten one arm in when the divas—all seven of them—rushed into his office, with hair color to match the green, yellow, blue, and pink knockoff designer purses on their arms. From the determined looks on their faces, the divas definitely had a purpose and wouldn't leave the building until the mission was accomplished.

“What are you doing here? Shouldn't you ladies be in school?” he began, but Jasmine cut to the chase.

“We signed in before we cut . . . I mean, before we sort of got permission to leave. Have you seen Ms. Paige?”

“Excuse me?” he said.

Jasmine's loud tone matched her bright yellow hair. “I said, have you seen . . .” She let the thought hang, as if she had remembered something, and then continued. “We don't mean to barge in and interrupt your schedule, Dr. Simone, but we're looking for Ms. Paige. She didn't show up for DWAP last night,” she explained in a normal tone. “We tried calling her last night and this morning, but she's not answering her cell phone. We don't have her home number, but I'm sure you do. We just want to make sure she's all right.”

Just what he didn't want or need—more Paige drama. “Maybe she was just tired and decided to stay home last night,” he suggested, more to ease their worry, because at the moment he didn't care where she was.

“She never cancels on us, and she's not at work today, either. We stopped by her office first,” the girl with pink hair added. “Ms. Paige never misses work. She told us she even has a home office so she can work from home.”

“That's true,” he said contemplatively.

“Have you talked to her?” Jasmine asked. “Can you call her?”

The seven pairs of worried eyes staring at him made him angry all over again with Paige. These young ladies genuinely cared about her well-being, and she didn't show them the slightest regard. She was too busy forcing her hopes and dreams on Seniyah to notice they needed her.

“Have you checked with Seniyah?” he offered. “I'm sure she's heard from her.”

This time the one with green hair spoke up. “That's what we thought too, so we checked with her first. We went to her complex before school, but she wasn't there.”

“Maybe they're together?” he offered.

“No, they're not,” Jasmine went on to explain. “Seniyah's in the hospital. She lost her baby over the weekend. She had pre-clampses, and her baby came early and is dead.”

“Preeclampsia,” he said, correcting her.

“Well, you know what I mean. Seniyah's mother said they had been at the hospital for two days and hadn't seen Ms. Paige since she dropped some stuff off on Saturday.”

The new information made him more than a little concerned.
How will Paige handle the loss of Seniyah's baby?
he wondered. He hadn't seriously considered her a mental case, but the woman did have a furnished nursery and had, as Tara would say, “flipped the script” on him.

“I haven't talked to her in few days,” he admitted and then picked up the phone. “But I'll call her office. I'm sure she's there by now.”

The divas huddled around him in expectation, only to groan in disappointment when he told them Paige still hadn't made it in and probably wouldn't, since she'd been working at home lately. He thought that was the end, but the ladies had more in mind.

“Call her at home,” Jasmine stated more than asked.

For their sake, he obliged. Once again they huddled around as he dialed Paige's home number. After eight rings, he disconnected.

“Come on, Dr. Simone. Since we don't know where she lives, we'll follow you. I have my brother's car,” Jasmine announced, and the divas headed for the door. “What are you waiting for?” she asked when Sergio-Xavier didn't follow suit.

“Hold on, ladies. She's probably at an appointment,” Sergio-Xavier said, with less certainty than before. “Let me make one more call.”

The girls huddled back around him as he dialed his colleague. “Hey, man,” he said when Kevin answered the line. “Did Paige lead praise and worship yesterday?” He maintained his smile, although Kevin's response gave him cause for more concern than he wanted to have for Paige. “All right. Thanks, man.” The line went dead, but Sergio-Xavier continued talking. “Really? That's great. I'll give her a call later.”

He prayed he sounded convincing. If he told them Paige had missed her scheduled praise and worship time, they'd panic, like he was about to.

“There's nothing to worry about,” he assured them. He prayed he wasn't lying. “Ladies, relax and go back to school. I promise to make sure she calls you later today.” He intended to keep that promise, even if he had to pin Paige down and press the phone to her ear.

Jasmine wasn't convinced. “Are you sure she's all right? Because it's just not like her to leave us hanging.”

“Trust me on this. You'll hear from her today. Give me your cell number, and I'll make sure of it.”

“All right,” Jasmine said, relenting. “But you better. I mean, please call me.”

“I promise, as long as you all promise to go back to school.”

Jasmine conceded, “That's fair.”

“What is it, Jasmine?” Sergio-Xavier asked after he entered her number into his iPhone, and she continued staring, like there was something she wanted say but didn't know how. “What's up?”

Jasmine looked back at the girls, and they nodded, as if giving their consent. All of them had the same unsure and vulnerable facial expression.

“About school. We know we're not four-point-oh students, and our attendance isn't the best. We need to work on our communications skills and get a better grip on the English language. And we may need to tone down our wardrobe, but just a little.” Jasmine paused and took a deep breath. “We need some work, and it may take a miracle, but we've been thinking that maybe we shouldn't settle for junior college. Maybe we should try our luck at a regular university or a state college.”

Sergio-Xavier imagined his grin resembled that of a proud father. “That's great. Are you serious?”

“Well, yeah. I mean yes,” Jasmine continued with more confidence. “I picked junior college because that's what my brother did. That's what everybody we know does. We didn't think we were capable of more until DWAP. We figured since we did such a great job running our small business, with some knowledge from the university, we could start our own corporation. We're talking logos and franchises.”

Sergio-Xavier chuckled as the girls exchanged high fives.

“We know it's going to take a miracle for us to get in, but we're thinking about giving it a shot,” Jasmine said. “What do you think? Do you think we can do it?”

“Yeah, do you really think we can?” the others chimed in.

Fourteen fearful and expectant eyes, hanging on his every word, tugged at his heartstrings. These young ladies were truly remarkable. Why couldn't Paige see that? The mere fact that they considered stepping out of the box and not settling had earned them his respect.

“I believe you can do anything you set your mind to,” he answered honestly.

“Thank you, Dr. Simone!” Jasmine exclaimed.

Sergio-Xavier had to lean against his desk to keep from falling over from the force of the group hug they lavished on him.

“Okay, Doc. You go check on Ms. Paige, and we're going back to school and to talk to a counselor. And don't forget to call me,” Jasmine reminded him as they trotted out the door.

As excited as he was for the ladies, Sergio-Xavier couldn't savor the moment. He had to go and find Paige. Sure, he was angry and hurt, but he knew her well enough to know she wouldn't miss two days of work without calling, unless she couldn't call.