Body By Night (23 page)

Night’s heart was heavy as he walked toward his mother’s room. He replayed the story D’Andra shared over and over in his head, as he drove from her apartment to the hospital. At once he was angry, hurt, confused and sad. He’d
thought
that Jazz was the love of his life but he
knew
D’Andra was. But how could his love survive what she’d told him? Her mother had caused his mother to lose a child, his sister? How did a love, no matter how great, get beyond that?”

He took a deep breath, squared his shoulders, put a smile on his face and entered Val’s room.

“Hey, Mom,” he said, placing a kiss on her forehead. “You look good today.”

“I wish I could say the same about you, son. If I didn’t know better I’d say you just lost your best friend.”

“Who, me?” He said this even though he wasn’t surprised at his mother’s perceptiveness. She’d been reading his mind since the day he was born; in fact nothing much anybody did got past her.

“Does this have something to do with why D’Andra ran away from me this morning? Barely poked her head in the doorway as if I had the plague.”

Night dropped the façade and slouched into the chair next to his mother’s bed. “There’s no fooling you, Mom,” he said with more than a hint of admiration mixed with sadness. “You’re not going to believe what I have to tell you.”

Val listened intently, not revealing the shock that Night had been expecting or that she was feeling. That sweet, thoughtful girl who’d stopped by to see her every night since she’d come to Heavenly Haven was Mary Smalls’ daughter. How could an angel be born from such a devil?

“Can you believe it, Mom? Can you believe the woman I love might be the daughter of someone who could have done something so awful?”

“It’s hard to believe, son,” Val admitted. “Lord, I haven’t thought about that whole incident for a long, long time. I’ve often thought about the daughter I carried, but not about the ugly incidents surrounding her leaving.

“I forgave Mary Smalls a long time ago,” she continued. “But I guess forgiving isn’t forgetting.”

Her eyes narrowed as she looked far back into a distant past. She didn’t like what she saw, or the feelings that stirred from those memories. She shook her head to rid herself of the picture that had sprung up as clear as day: Mary and Val scuffling in front of the grocery store. She remembered her bag busted: all of the items tumbled to the pavement, a bottle of vinegar dropped and shattered and oranges rolled everywhere.

And then it was Val who went rolling, after she and Mary had fallen off the curb and onto the ground. Val landed hard on her five months pregnant stomach; the pain was immediate and intense. She remembered grabbing her stomach and looking up into Mary’s face with a look of shear panic.

“Call the ambulance. I think you hurt my baby!”

Mary said absolutely nothing; simply turned and walked away. A couple who’d witnessed the incident stepped in to help. They drove her to the hospital and the husband called Carter. They hoped against hope that no damage had been done but she ultimately lost the baby. Val shared none of this with her already miserable son. She saw no need to add to his hurt; one look at him and she saw the pain he felt written all over his face.

“What are you going to do, son?” she asked softly.

Night shrugged. “Don’t know.” He looked at his mother a long moment. “What are you going to do? And how are we going to tell Carter?”

“Tell Carter what?”

Both Night and Val looked up as Carter walked into the room. He was carrying Val’s favorite cinnamon rolls, a container of orange juice and the morning paper. He placed the items on a table and walked over to kiss his wife on the forehead, much like Night had done.

“Tell me what?” he repeated.

“Sit down,” Val sighed.

Carter looked from Night’s anguished face to Val’s drawn expression. His heartbeat quickened as he braced for bad news. “Tell me, Val. I can hear just fine standing.”

Val’s expression softened as she drank in the vision of the strong, good-hearted man she’d met and fell in love with twenty-one years ago. Even in discomfort, he formed a formidable and distinguished picture.

“Give me one of those cinnamon rolls and have a seat, Carter Johnson,” she said with a comfort level that only comes with true intimacy. “And trust me when I tell you…you’re going to want to be sitting down for this.”

D’Andra awoke in the late afternoon. Her head ached and she felt a wave of anxiety, as if she’d had a very bad dream. And then it hit her. The nightmare had occurred during her waking hours and it was in sleeping she’d escaped.

D’Andra fell back against her pillows, wishing she never had to leave the cocoon of her bedroom, that somehow if she stayed isolated long enough she would come out and find that in her absence the world as she’d known it had righted itself.

But she didn’t have time for wishful thinking. She’d agreed to take a co-worker’s Saturday shift and there was much to do beforehand. She had errands to run, wanted to visit her mother, hoped Elaine could come to work a little early so they could talk and, more than anything, she wanted to be with Night. With that thought, she reached for her cell phone sitting in its charger on the nightstand. She tried to keep down the hopes that there’d be a message from him, but she couldn’t help it. She wished fervently that Night had called her and told his doll that everything between them was okay.

He hadn’t. She had no messages. And while showering, fixing a bite to eat and preparing to leave her apartment she tried to tell herself it didn’t matter, that he was just getting over the shock of her unexpected news, but she couldn’t quell the deep sense of foreboding that in gaining a father, she’d lost his son.

The more D’Andra thought about Night leaving her, the more real the possibility became. By the time she prepared to leave the house, their break-up was as good as final in her mind. She determined that she would take the alone time to keep working on herself and her health and that instead of taking the online class, she’d go back to school and get a degree in nutrition, as she had first planned.

That’s it, D’Andra thought. I don’t need a man in my life to be fulfilled. If Night makes a decision to leave, I’m not going to go begging for him to stay. If he’s going to blame me for what my mother did, then maybe he isn’t the man I thought he was after all.

Her home phone rang just as she was preparing to lock the front door. Hoping it was Night she dashed back into the living room and caught the call on the third ring.

“Hello?”

“Dee, Nelly.”

“Oh, hi girl.”

“Well don’t act so happy to hear from me.”

“It’s not that. I thought you were Night calling.”

“I’m so happy for you, that you found a good man, one who isn’t bullshit like Charles was.”

D’Andra remained silent. She’d promised herself that she wouldn’t shed another tear.

“Dee, you there?”

“Look, I need to go.”

“Dee, what’s wrong? What’s going on with you and Night?”

“Did I say anything was going on?”

“This is your girl you’re talking to, you didn’t have to. Now, do you want to talk about it?”

“Not really.”

“Well, will you tell me if y’all are still together at least?”

“I hope so,” D’Andra responded softly.

“Look, I don’t know what happened or who did what or whatever, but take it from a friend who’s been single for far too long. From all you’ve told me and the little I’ve seen your man is one in a million. Men like him don’t come along everyday. And honestly watching you two interact at the hospital—I’ve never seen you this happy. So I don’t care whatever it is that has y’all trippin’, it isn’t worth throwing away a good relationship over.

“When you saw Charles in my room that night, you ran away without asking for an explanation, giving your opinion, or entertaining discussion. I understand your reaction. But don’t do that this time. Anything keeping is worth fighting for. Don’t run, D’Andra.”

She’s right,
D’Andra thought as she navigated rush hour traffic on the way to MLK Hospital.
I need to know exactly what Night is thinking.
She dialed his number and got voice mail.

“No problem,” she said aloud as she waited for his outgoing message to end. “I’ll just leave my message at the sound of the beep.”

Carter sat with arms crossed, unconsciously shielding himself from a past he’d hoped was dead and buried. Of course, he and Valerie had talked long ago about Mary Smalls and her brief obsession with all things Carter. He’d assured Val that although at one point Mary meant something to him, that was long ago. Val was the only one for him and that was the end of it. What Val didn’t know was that after she lost the baby, Carter paid a visit to Mary and literally threatened her life. He told her that he wasn’t a violent man, and he believed in God and hell, but if she ever came near his wife again, or tried to contact him again, it would be the last thing she did on this earth. It wasn’t his proudest moment, but he had no regrets. That’s why the harassment stopped, and that’s when he and Val went on with what, until today, had been a relatively peaceful, predictable life, just the way he wanted.

“I wonder why Mary would tell her daughter this story,” Carter pondered, almost to himself. He looked up at Night. “And then why would she come and tell you?”

She wouldn’t, she couldn’t, Carter thought. Surely Mary wouldn’t try something like this after all these years.

This is the hard part.
“She was avoiding me and I forced her to tell me why. But in the end that isn’t the only reason,” he looked at Val, “and Mom, I didn’t have a chance to tell you this before Carter came in but the main reason she felt she had to tell me was because—”

“She thinks I’m her daddy,” Carter finished.

This time, Valerie was the one surprised. “I thought you said you didn’t have children, Carter.”

Carter set his jaw with the determination of a man who would not be moved. “I don’t.”

It wasn’t often Jazz felt like a fish out of water. And she refused to admit that’s the way she felt now. But if she
had
admitted she was out of her element, it would have been true. Jazz was used to being in control and to getting what she wanted. But in the last few months, with first Night and now Brad choosing a life without her, things had changed. And in her life
she
did the leaving, thank you very much. It had been almost two weeks and Brad still had not returned her call. Soon it would be May. The deal should totally be off by now. If not, Brad Gilman would need to step up his game. She was getting ready to make that fact very, very clear.

“Where’s Brad?” she demanded, bursting through the door. She was brought up short when instead of seeing Nancy, a mousy middle-aged woman who doted on Jazz’s exquisiteness, she encountered an equally beautiful, fashionably dressed woman with attitude sitting behind the receptionist desk.

“Who are you?” she demanded, a little less forcefully.

“Who’s asking?” Cassandra replied, with enough force for the both of them.

“Never mind,” Jazz gave Cassandra a dismissive gesture before walking toward the hall and Brad’s office.

Cassandra cut her off. “Look, bitch, you don’t just walk up in here like you own the place. I asked for you to introduce yourself. And if you can’t do that then you can find the door and make your exit.”

For all of the secretarial school professional polish she brought to the position, she had not left her street skills at home. The unexpected combination of beauty and brawn was a total surprise to Jazz. It made her feel like, well, a fish out of water.

“Brad!” Jazz yelled around the unmoving Cassandra.

“He’s not here,” Cassandra said calmly, crossing her arms and leaning her weight on one leg. “And from the looks of it that might be a good thing because we need to have a conversation.”

Jazz’s look of incredulity could have been next to the word in the dictionary. “
We
don’t have to have anything but
you
need a course in office etiquette.”

“You won’t be the one who gives it to me.”

“I’m outta here.”

Jazz turned towards the door and then quickly spun around. She hid the hurt she felt behind haughty sarcasm; hurt at being replaced in Brad’s life by a lowlife tramp.

“Wait! I get it. You’re the new flavor of the month, and your newfound yet limited success has you feeling pretty sure of yourself. You get a weave, a fake designer outfit from the swap meet and a bus ticket out of the ghetto, and you think you’ve arrived. Well I have news for you. Brad and I have been friends for years. I was here before you came and I’ll be here long after you leave.”

“That may be the case,” Cassandra countered as cool as a cucumber. “But if you stay here for any longer than five seconds, I’m calling security.”

“Who’s Jazz?” Cassandra asked a freeway traveling Brad just seconds after Jazz had huffed, puffed and left the office.

“Why, is she there?”

“No, but she was. And I must tell you Brad, I didn’t handle the situation very professionally.”

“What happened?”

Cassandra told him.

“That’s all?”

“It’s enough. Who is she?”

“An ex-friend. We were good friends for a while but then we added sex to the equation and then I met you. I didn’t think the two of you would work well together so I stopped calling her. From what you’re telling me of what went down in the last five minutes, I’d say I was right.”

“Ooh, baby. Are you saying you put her down because of me?” Cassandra said in a sultry, sexy voice. “I’m going to have to give you a special reward for that as soon as you get home.”

Brad smiled with satisfaction as he hung up from Cassandra. He was whipped and knew it; the woman had come in out of nowhere and totally snatched him from the game. He always said he wouldn’t date a woman with one child, let alone three. But something about this street-smart yet vulnerable woman had brought out his caveman side. He didn’t look it but he was almost fifty years old. Being around Cassandra and hearing her talk of her children had for the first time in his life made him think about leaving a lineage. He’d already asked Cassandra to move in with him, and offered to hire a housekeeper and nanny. So far, she’d said no. She spent every evening with him before going home to be with her kids, giving him the kind of love and mind-blowing sex he’d barely believed was possible. Less than a month and he was already wondering what kind of diamond she liked.

Brad pulled into the parking lot of a large electronics store. He decided to leave the top of his Porsche down since he’d only be a few minutes. After entering the store and looking up at the directive signs, he headed down aisle three.

“Brad Gilman,” a voice behind him said.

Brad closed his eyes briefly before turning around. Then he fixed his face with a smile. “What’s going on, Night?”

“Everything’s cool.”

There was an awkward moment as each man paused to collect his thoughts.

“You know man, I’m really sorry about what happened with your real estate deal. I feel real bad about it.”

“Why?” Night responded. His tone held no anger. “You’re the reason it fell out of escrow.”

Brad didn’t have to say anything; his guilt-ridden face said it all.

“I understand man. At one time, I was under Jazz’s spell. And I have no doubt in my mind something she told you is the reason I don’t have the keys to 10281 Centinela Boulevard. And I’m equally sure that whatever she told you is not the truth. But it’s cool. I’m looking at some other spots. Nothing is going to keep me from my dream.”

“What can I say man? I screwed up.”

“Yes, you did.”

“Tell you what. Why don’t I make a few phone calls, see if we can get the deal going again? I know that a couple other people were interested in it but I don’t think any paperwork has gone through yet.”

“Brad, you don’t owe me anything.”

“I owe you an apology. Let me make it by helping you get your building back.”