Body By Night (16 page)

In the thirty minutes it took Night to drive to MLK Hospital, he told D’Andra about his life with Val Johnson. How she and his father, John Simmons, had been an unbeatable team until he was killed in a freak on-the-job accident when Night was twelve. His mother had been compensated and with it bought the house where Night spent his teenage years and where Val still lived. D’Andra learned of the extremely close bond between mother and son, one that remained even after Val remarried a wonderfully kind man named Carter Johnson, when Night was fourteen. They’d been married for twenty-one years.

“You know, I’ve thought about you meeting my mother before,” Night admitted.

“Oh, really?” D’Andra answered, pleased that she’d been on his mind. “What brought that thought on?”

“I can’t remember,” Night lied.

In reality it was the difference in D’Andra’s kind demeanor compared to his ex-girlfriend, Jazz. Val was always kind to Jazz, while Jazz merely tolerated his mother. Theirs seemed to be a forced relationship. Things would undoubtedly be different with the woman at his side.

The nurses greeted Night with wide smiles and shy glances. They looked quizzically at D’Andra and one of them, a cute, light-skinned sistah with natural short twists, actually rolled her eyes. Night simply placed his arm around D’Andra’s shoulders and proceeded to his mother’s room.

“I brought you a surprise,” he began. And then, “what are you doing here?”

Jazz covered her surprise with a smile. She was expecting, even anticipating, Night’s arrival but hadn’t expected him to bring the Pillsbury Dough Girl along with him. Her brow furrowed a bit as she wondered why he’d bring a client, but she quickly dismissed any discomfort with a toss of her long, straight hair and wide open arms as she rose from the chair.

“Night!”

She may as well have been hugging a tree for the response she got. Night stood stock still, his eyes pleading understanding as they gazed at D’Andra. For D’Andra’s part, she didn’t know what to think. They’d just made mind-boggling love for hours, only to run into his so-called ex in his mother’s hospital room? All of the old insecurities rushed to the forefront. She took comfort in doing what came naturally.

“My name is D’Andra,” she said, as she approached Night’s mother. “You must be the famous Miss Val I’ve heard so much about.”

D’Andra leaned over and hugged Val gingerly.

“Nice to meet you,” Val replied. Her next words were replaced by a grimace.

“Are you alright?” D’Andra asked, instantly going into nurse mode. Without thinking she felt Val’s head and reached for her wrist, taking her pulse in seconds. “Where’s the pain?” She continued running a topical check on Night’s mother without a thought that this wasn’t her job nor the hospital in which she worked. “Your heartbeat’s steady, and I don’t detect a fever. Should we ring for the doctor?”

“No, baby, I’m fine.” Val’s eyes were lit with admiration as she eyed Night’s new friend. “Just a little pain when I moved my leg.”

“Sorry about that,” D’Andra said once she realized she may have overstepped bounds. “I’m a nurse and old habits die hard I guess.”

“And a very good one I suspect,” Val answered. She turned to Jazz who was still clinging to the oak tree otherwise known as JaJuan “Night” Simmons.

“Thank you for coming, Jazz. And thanks for the flowers. Now I’ve kept you away from your busy schedule long enough. Give my best to your family.” It was an obvious dismissal.

“Uh, sure, Val,” Jazz replied. She walked up and offered a weak hug to Val’s left side while resisting the urge to prove that she too could stroke a forehead and take a pulse. She turned to D’Andra with an outstretched hand.

“I’m Night’s friend, Jazz.”

“She’s my ex-girlfriend,” Night interjected, coming to D’Andra’s side. “It was nice of you to check on my mom,” he said, reiterating his mother’s walking papers even as he wondered how Jazz knew about the accident.
Marc.
Of course. When Night didn’t return Jazz’s calls she probably went by the gym. He’d have to tell his friend in no uncertain terms that he was no longer to share any information on his life, personal or professional, with one Jazz Anderson.

“Again we meet,” D’Andra said evenly.

Jazz wasn’t sure how to respond to D’Andra’s comment. Night hadn’t taken her calls since before she’d spoken with D’Andra by the pier. The uncertainty made her all the more determined to get back into Night’s life. She’d do whatever it took, including playing the money card.

“Can I speak to you privately?” she asked Night.

“Not now,” he said. He walked over to his mother’s bed and gave her a light hug. D’Andra walked over to his side. The family picture made Jazz want to puke.

“Make it soon,” she said, barely keeping the venom from her voice. “It’s about the financing for your baby, the gym.”

Before Night could respond, she was gone.

Jazz didn’t wait until she got to her car. As soon as she turned the corner from Val Johnson’s room, she pulled out her cell phone and began to dial. Brad picked up on the second ring.

“Hey, beautiful. I’ve been meaning to call you. Escrow will be done in thirty days. I’m sure you’ll be ready to celebrate—”

“Never mind that,” Jazz interrupted. “Can you stop the sale from going through?”

“What?”

“You heard me. I don’t want Night to get the building!”

“Why, what’s going on?”

“Look, Night and I broke up a few months ago and our business partnership is dissolved.”

Jazz changed her voice from demanding to demure. “You’re my friend, Brad, and it’s probably not professional to tell you this. But I–I caught Night with another woman.” Jazz drummed up genuine tears as she embraced her lie. “It made me question whether he was with me for me, or because of my connections…to amazing people like you.”

“I’m not sure, Jazz,” Brad continued in a halting voice. He liked Jazz, had even desired to date her, but he’d worked hard on this sale and while he was wealthy and didn’t need the commission, it was going to be a nice one. He was torn.

The sound of Jazz’s heels tapping across the concrete pavement filled the otherwise silent moment. Finally Brad spoke.

“Give me a couple days. I’ll see what I can do.”

“Brad, you’re the best,” Jazz purred. “I’m going to have to think of a really special way to thank you.”

There was a definite bounce to Jazz’s walk as she reached her convertible, and her scowl had been replaced by a satisfied smile. She’d give anything to be a fly on the wall when Night found out his dream location had fallen out of escrow. She refused to feel guilty. It was his fault, not hers. He was the one who’d chosen a super-sized hamburger when he could have had Chateaubriand. She hoped Night’s dumpy new girlfriend could comfort him when he found out he’d lost everything. Jazz’s eyes narrowed as she pondered her truth: if he’d stayed with her he could have had it all.

Night was all smiles. His mother had gotten progressively better in the weeks since regaining consciousness. He and D’Andra were officially a couple, following his mother’s accident, their missed date and her run-in with Jazz. He’d been right. His mother adored D’Andra and it seemed the feeling was mutual. D’Andra had visited Val a few times alone and told his mother not to make a fuss to her son about it. Of course she did.

“That’s just the sweetest soul,” she’d said when Night came to visit one day after D’Andra had left. “She brought me those books over there and gave me this special pillow for my neck. Very thoughtful.”

That gesture had expanded D’Andra’s place in Night’s heart and her kindness, combined with her diet and Night’s workout that was reshaping her body and the spell she cast on him when they made love—which had been almost every night since the first time—Night had fallen, and he had fallen hard.

“What are you smiling about?” D’Andra asked.

“You,” was Night’s simple reply.

“Yeah, I’m happy too,” she responded.

They were both momentarily silenced by their own thoughts of gratitude as they took in the beautiful March day and the sounds of smooth jazz coming from the stereo.

“Where are we going?” D’Andra asked after the beautifully played
Europa
by Gato Barbieri had ended.

“To see our future,” Night replied. “Matter of fact…”

He reached for the phone. “I probably should have called Brad sooner. We made these plans a week ago, to pick up the keys to the gym.”

“Figured out what you’re going to call it yet?”

“I’m leaning towards
Night Moves,
because of the party-like atmosphere I’m going to create during the late night hours. But then again, I also like
Jewel’s Gym
and even Frank’s suggestion,
Night Works.”

“I’m surprised he didn’t come up with something with doll in it.”

“Oh, you know he did and yes,
Dollhouse
was one of them.”

D’Andra groaned. “See what happens when you listen to Bob Berry?”

It was Night’s turn to moan.
“Chuck
Berry, doll, and please don’t make that mistake around Frank. He’d consider it sacrilegious. Hey Brad, Night.”

“Oh, hey Night.”

“Just double-checking to make sure you’re in the office. I’m checking out the space today and am coming to get the key.”

Brad cringed at the sound of excitement in his client’s voice. He was still battling with Jazz’s request to stall the close, if not pull the sale altogether. Night was a good man. It was hard to believe what Jazz had said about him. But Jazz was a friend, and so deliciously sexy…

“Uh, yeah, Night. I guess you can, sure, come on by.”

“Everything’s still cool, right?” Night asked, sensing his realtor’s discomfort. “I mean we are still set to close next month.”

Brad cleared his suddenly clogged throat. He’d never been a good liar. “I’m, uh, running into a couple snags but, uh, don’t worry. Come on and pick up the key.”

“Snags? What kind of snags? I need to know right now exactly what’s going on. I’ve hired contractors to start renovations next month and ordered equipment that will be delivered in May. I’m in the process of interviewing trainers. If there is anything that’s going to throw me off from my opening on the fifth of July…you need to let me know now.”

Brad loosened his tie and wiped a bead of sweat from his brow. “Actually, Night, I wasn’t quite sure where things stood, since you and Jazz are no longer business partners—”

“Jazz? What’s she got to do with anything? Her name isn’t on the papers, my company’s is.” Night’s sunny day was turning gloomier by the minute. It was obvious Jazz was up to her old, manipulative tricks. “What exactly has Jazz said to you?” Night asked bluntly.

“She just, uh, said you two were no longer partners.”

“And why would you think that changed anything regarding my buying the property?”

Brad was in a hole without a shovel and he didn’t like it. He didn’t want to screw Night until he was sure of his facts. “Look buddy, I’m sorry I mentioned it. When will you be at the office?”

“I’m about ten minutes away.”

D’Andra was all too aware of Night’s drastic change in mood. She wanted to comfort him, but how? Remaining silent seemed the best choice. She simply placed her hand softly on Night’s thigh.

He covered it with his own. After another moment, he sighed, brought D’Andra’s hand to his lips and kissed it.

“It’s hard to believe that at one time I thought Jazz was
the one,”
Night said.

“She’s a very pretty girl.”

“Yes, and on her good days she’s funny, thoughtful and really smart. But on the other days she’s self-centered, mean and manipulative. There started to be too many of those other days. That’s why we broke up. That and the fact she didn’t really like my mama.”

“Ooh, no way Night. How could anybody dislike Miss Val?”

“Somebody who felt they had to compete with her for my love. You don’t, you know,” he said, glancing quickly at D’Andra. “I have enough love for my mom and my woman.”

Moments after Brad let Night borrow the keys to do another walk-through, Night and D’Andra were back on the highway, headed to the Ladera Heights Shopping Center and Night’s future gym. The conversation was once again lighthearted, as they continued to learn about each other. Night shared stories of his growing up, first in Texas and later L.A., and D’Andra told him about the “Fabulous Four.” They were laughing at D’Andra’s memories of moonwalking when her phone rang.

“Hello?”

“Hi, I’m trying to reach a…D’Andra, D’Andra Smalls?”

“This is D’Andra.”

There was a slight pause. “You left a message on my machine several weeks ago. My name is Sylvia. Sylvia Dobbs.”

D’Andra’s mouth went dry instantly. She clasped her small cell phone with both hands. “You know Orlando Dobbs?” she asked tentatively.

“I might,” was the reply.

D’Andra glanced over at Night before continuing. “I’m looking for the Orlando Dobbs who lived in Los Angeles in the eighties and knew a Mary Smalls.”

“What’s your relationship to Orlando?”

D’Andra swallowed, her heart beat frantically in her chest. “I might be his daughter.”

D’Andra had remained unusually quiet since getting the phone call about the man who could be her dad. They’d continued the ride to the gym space in near silence and even his excitement about the gym as they walked the space had elicited little more than monosyllable replies.

“Want to talk about it?”

“I don’t know.”

“You know I’m here for you if you do. I know what it’s like to not have a dad and wonder about your father. My dad died when I was old enough to remember him well, but there are still questions. There’s always something missing…so I feel you.”

“My mother won’t talk about him,” D’Andra began. “She believes I should just leave it alone and can’t understand why I want to know him. She never knew her father, and I guess never felt the need to know that I do. My sister knows her dad and while their relationship is limited at best, she
knows
him, where he lives, his telephone number. There’s a connection.”

Night stopped and placed his hands on D’Andra’s shoulders. “I don’t agree with your mother. I think you should find your father. And I’m here to help, if you need me.”

D’Andra’s eyes watered but she refused to cry. “Thanks, Night. That means a lot.”

She was still thinking of Night’s kindness as she clocked into work that night. Her evening with him had been a blessing; it felt good to feel taken care of for a change. Work was busy but manageable, with nobody running off, throwing up or acting out on her watch. She and Elaine shared a quick bite and caught up on each other’s lives.

“So, are you going to Chicago to meet your father?”

D’Andra nodded slowly. “Yes, I am. Night said he’d go with me.”

Elaine reached across the table. “I’m glad for you D’Andra; every child deserves to know his parents. I’m hoping for the best.”

Elaine finished her Lean Cuisine pizza and continued. “And speaking of Night, I might need to sign up for some one-on-ones. You’re looking good, woman!”

“Thank you, Elaine. I feel good too. Both my blood pressure and my cholesterol are down and I definitely have more wind and stamina than I used to.”

“Uh-huh. And this stamina is for…”

“Whatever,” D’Andra said smiling. “But yes, that too,” she finished, her body warming as she thought of Night.

“How much have you lost?”

“Twenty-five pounds already. Can you believe it?”

“Looking at you? Yes, I can. When is his gym opening?”

“He’s shooting for July fifth.”

Elaine noticed the brief frown that crossed D’Andra’s face. “Running into a few snafus?”

“Just one really.”
And her name is Jazz.
“But he’s staying positive and moving forward. He’s so excited. And so am I.”

For the first time D’Andra went into detail about her plans to take nutrition classes, cut her work at Heavenly Haven to a part-time shift and teach nutrition and health seminars at Night’s gym. She also told her about the apartments she’d looked at recently and the low-level, yet continual stress at home.

After her shift was over, D’Andra set off for home and some much needed sleep. Spending time with Night had been great but it had also cut into the previous day’s sleep. She’d tried to talk him out of working out tonight but he wouldn’t hear of it. She had only one thought on her mind as she walked up the sidewalk…bed.

That thought was challenged as soon as she opened the door. Kayla was screaming for Tonia and Antoine to eat their cereal and Mary was hollering at D’Andra through a closed bedroom door.

“Dee! Get those kids ready for school for me!”

D’Andra was so tired she hadn’t even noticed that Cassandra’s car wasn’t parked out front.

She opened her mother’s door to find her snuggled under the covers.

“Where’s Cassandra?” D’Andra asked in a voice full of agitation.

“She spent the night with Anthony,” her mother replied. She didn’t bother to take her head out from under the sheets or turn to face D’Andra as she continued. “I think he’s getting ready to ask her to marry him.”

D’Andra was too tired to argue and didn’t have enough energy for anger. “Mama,” she said, her voice soft. “I am exhausted. Can you get up and get the kids ready?”

“I’m tired, and my side hurts,” she replied.

D’Andra was headed out the door when Mary’s voice stopped her. “Oh, D’Andra?”

Mary finally pulled the sheet off her face and grimaced as she shifted to face D’Andra. “She’s going to need you to watch them this weekend too. She and Anthony are going to Las Vegas.”

D’Andra’s heart skipped. She hadn’t planned to tell her mother that she was going to Chicago to meet her dad. But maybe, she thought, it was best she knew.

“I can’t watch them. Night and I are going out of town.”

“That man you work out with? Y’all dating now? I thought you were just friends?”

D’Andra resisted a frustrated sigh. Why did it seem as if her mother lived and breathed Cassandra’s life while hers was invisible?

“Mama, I told you a few weeks ago we’d started going out.”

“I thought y’all were
working
out. What he look like?”

“He’s attractive, Mama. I’m sure you’ll meet him soon. At any rate, we’re going to Chicago and I won’t be here to watch the kids.”

“That’s where he’s from, Chi-town?”

“No.”

“Then why are you going there?”

D’Andra took a breath, looked her mother in the eye. “To see my father.”

“What?” Mary threw off the covers and struggled to a sitting position. “What the hell are you going to search him out for?”

“I know you don’t understand, Mama. But it’s something I need to do, for many reasons. You don’t want to talk about him, and I have questions that need answers.”

“What is there to know? We were together, and then he left. End of story. I never knew my father and you didn’t see me traipsing all over the country trying to find him. Why can’t you just leave it alone?”

“Why can’t you just support my decision?”

Mary’s anger propelled her to action. She swung her legs over the side of the bed and stood. That simple act cost her precious breath and she stood for a moment, heaving and holding her side. She then reached for a floral robe, belted it quickly, slipped into a pair of worn, pink fluffy slippers and pushed past D’Andra.

“Go on to Chicago, since I can’t tell you nothing. But after you meet him and he’s busted your fantasy bubble, don’t come back here crying to me.”

Mary turned her anger toward her grandchildren. “Y’all get up from that table and get your clothes on. It’s time for school!”

D’Andra eyed her mother silently before following the children up the stairs. She couldn’t understand why Mary was so angry at her father when she didn’t share that same antipathy toward Cassandra’s father, Sam. Maybe, she thought as she helped the kids get dressed, it was because Sam helped out financially until Cassandra was eighteen, and was at least remotely in her life. In the end it didn’t matter. One, she was too tired to figure it out and two, her mind was made up, she was going to see Orlando Dobbs.

Once the children left for school, D’Andra peeled off her clothes and flopped down on the couch. She didn’t even bother to pull out the sofa bed, but covered the cushions with a sheet and herself with a light blanket.

Her heart was heavy as she thought about her family, the mostly acrimonious relationship she had with her mother and sister.
I’m not doing this anymore. Things have got to change.
The phrase repeated itself as she drifted off into sleep. Just before she dozed off, her cell phone rang. She was too tired to answer it but if she had, she might have slept easier. The caller had an answer to her prayers.