Ebony Angel (6 page)

Ebony sat on the couch next to Richard. “Thanks for the loan. I’ll pay you back after I braid a few heads on Saturday.”

“No need. What’s Stam’s story, and why does he call you Miss?”

“He calls me Miss as his sign of respect. He’s a good man, just down on his luck. Last summer his wife lost her battle with breast cancer, and he hasn’t been the same since. He went into a depression and eventually was fired from his job. Now he pretty much roams the streets begging. I’m just glad he didn’t start drugs or drinking. He’ll make it. He just needs time to grieve. I’ve already made Dan promise to give him a job.”

“What are you, some sort of guardian angel or something?” he teased.

“Silly.”

“Seriously, though, I think it’s great. You don’t find many compassionate people these days.”

“Thanks.”

“Why am I being called Smoke, and why does everyone think I work for Dan?” He finished the last bite of the sandwich as she explained.

“I think there’s some sort of unwritten rule that says males of playa age can’t use their real names.”

Sarcasm noted, he asked, “But why Smoke?”

She lightly brushed her hand along his five o’clock shadow, sending his mind to places it shouldn’t venture. At least not with her mother in the next room.

“Because your smoky blue eyes are the first thing Skeet noticed about you. Besides your being white,” she added. “Would you rather him call you Whitey?”

They both laughed. “I like Smoke,” he said. “What about Dan?”

“Wait until you meet him. You’ll see. He must have seen Stam out on the street since Stam didn’t want to accept payment. He’ll be here soon.” The doorknob turned. “Speak of the devil.”

Dan stepped into the flat, shaking off his trench-style cashmere coat. “It’s cold as hell out there.” He kicked off his Italian leather tap-toe shoes and placed them on the rack. “What the?” He picked up one of Richard’s oxfords. “You ruined $400 shoes. Didn’t your mama teach you to walk
around
the puddle?”

Richard flashed a lopsided, sheepish grin.

“Hello, Dan.” Ebony hugged Dan, then introduced him to Richard.

“Did the cops show yet?”

“No, sir, but Stam said the Collins boys stole and torched my car.” Richard immediately saw the family resemblance. Dan was at least 6’5” and dark–skinned. He also carried his size well. He resembled an older, more sophisticated version of Skeet.

“You didn’t pay him, did you?”

Richard could swear he saw a halo appear above Ebony’s head when she said, “I’m broke.”

“Like you would tell me. Did she pay him, Richard?”

“Nope.”

“Good. This girl thinks she can save the world.”

“Can you float me a loan until I can braid a few heads? Crystal needs a new pair of shoes.”

Richard hoped his confusion didn’t show on his face. He glanced toward the kitchen where she’d left the money Trae had given her, wondering what she intended to do with it.

“Where’s my baby sister?” He reached into his pocket and pulled out his money clip.

“I’m praying she’s on the phone with Oscar. Don’t interrupt her.” She picked up her sandwich.

Dan took the small piece from her in exchange for a few hundred dollars. “I’m starving. Call me out when the cops arrive.” He walked into Marissa’s room with the last piece of Ebony’s sandwich.

It occurred to Richard that Ebony hadn’t eaten a bite, though he knew she must be starving. Instead, she had allowed everyone to take from her. In the midst of a prolific moment, he wondered if this symbolized how others took advantage of her charitable heart.

“Dammit, Dan!” Marissa screamed. “What if I was naked?” Dan closed the door.

Ebony laughed. “She hates it when he does that.”

“What does Dan do for a living?”

“I guess you could say he was one of the original gangstas. He gave up the drug life years ago and turned his life around. Now he’s an entrepreneur, real estate mostly. He’s an icon around here.” She paused. “Well maybe not an icon, but he’s my hero.” She rubbed her belly. “He’s one of the business connections I was talking about.” The doorbell rang. “This house is entirely too busy.” She answered the door and let in the police.

Dan chastised them for taking so long and also for the initial desk officer telling Richard to file a report at the station. He stood watch until the report was finished and the police left. “I’ll be ready to leave in a few minutes, Richard. I’ll drop you home.”

“I’ll take him,” Ebony volunteered.

* * *

Richard stood in front of a spotless black sports utility vehicle. “You and your mom have the only two clean cars in the city.”

Ebony handed him the keys, motioning across the street at the lookout. “Trae has the fellas keep them clean and the walk shoveled. All I do is toss out salt. I’ve told them a million times it isn’t necessary, but they ignore me. Some battles just aren’t worth the fight.”

Apprehension had replaced the cheer in her tone. In an attempt to lighten her mood and figure out just who “the fellas” were, he said, “Trae is overprotective. I know this isn’t the best neighborhood, but I don’t think he needs to have
undercover
security posted outside your house.”

Ebony’s smile didn’t reach her eyes. Shoulders hunched, she bit her bottom lip. “They aren’t here just for me. Let’s get in the truck. I’m cold.”

Richard rounded the truck and hopped in. “Nice license plate.” It read EBONY1.

“Thank you.” She looked down and away. “I need to tell you about Trae and Skeet,” she said softly but clearly.

“Go for it.” He started the engine and turned on the heat. He had prepared himself for the worst, but still didn’t look forward to her full disclosures. “You only have six hundred miles on this. Is it new?” he asked, stalling.

“Dan gave it to me for my birthday last year. He always gives me humongous gifts.”

“When was your birthday, last month?”

“August. I just hate driving.”

The man from across the street unnerved Richard. “You really don’t have very many white folks around here do you? I think Trae should give him a raise. He’s staring so hard he could tell you the number of whiskers on my five o’clock shadow.”

“He’s one of Trae’s lookouts.” She explained what a lookout does, and that Trae was responsible for the drug trafficking on the west side and a few neighboring suburbs.

She seemed terrified, sitting there fidgeting with her new gloves. He pulled the SUV away from the curb. He felt Ebony watching him as he drove, but he couldn’t speak, not yet. He needed time to absorb what she had said, sort through his feelings and decide if he wanted to be associated with anyone who had drug ties; no matter how indirect.

He didn’t want to punish Ebony for Trae’s wrongdoing, but why would she allow him around her child? He knew firsthand what happened when parents didn’t protect their children. He smoothed his hand over his mouth. At a loss, he sighed.

Nonno’s grin appeared in his mind’s eye. He knew what Nonno would do. He could see the part of his grandfather in himself saying it was time to stir up trouble. He felt strength in knowing he was so much like Nonno, his hero.

Ebony stared out the passenger-side window. “I’ll understand if you don’t contact me…honestly…no bad feelings.”

“Are you involved in the drug trade? What did you sign back there?”

She glanced over her shoulder at him barely long enough for him to see a sad smile tip her lips and her eyes filled with unshed tears. “A parent consent form for Crystal to go with her class to the Museum of Science and Industry. She’d left it in his car when he picked her up from school Friday.” Now he felt like a complete heel.

“And, no, I don’t know anything about the drug trade except the destruction I see when I walk down the street,” she said, now facing the passenger window. “I try to help where I can, but it hurts knowing Trae’s partly responsible, and there’s nothing I can do to stop it.”

“The father of your child.” He stopped at a red light. The sub-zero temperatures didn’t keep customers away from the corner liquor store. Hearing about Trae had him wanting a drink. He thought back to how she’d given her gloves away, mentioned trying to convince Meechie to enter rehab, found employment for Stam and even how she’d rescued him. And this was all in the course of a day. Dan had a point; she tried to be everyone’s angel, including Trae’s.

“Yes,” she answered. “I’d love to shut him out, but I can’t.”

He continued watching her. She had a kind heart, was smart and responsible, but her actions didn’t add up in his mind. It was as if she had taken her angel role too far.

The light turned green. He continued down the road. “I know Trae is Crystal’s father, but he’s a drug dealer. How can you allow him access to her?”

She leaned against the headrest with her eyes closed. “Dan has always been my real father figure. He tucked me in at night, read me stories, played with me.” She laughed lightly. “Punished me when I was bad. Helped me with my homework. I love him in my heart as my father.”

“What about your real father?” He waited at a stop sign, then glanced over at her. Their gazes locked. He fought the urge to pull her into his arms and make promises he had no clue how to keep.

“Mom loved him to death, but he was more interested in the drugs than me. I wanted a relationship with him so bad…”

He turned on his street and continued toward his condo. “So Dan took over.”

“I can’t articulate how devastated I was when Mom cut Dan out of our lives. I know she was trying to protect me from the drug trade, but at the time I felt like she was punishing me and she was a hypocrite. Here she was getting high, yet telling me Dan couldn’t be a part of our lives anymore because he sold drugs.”

“But your mom eventually quit.”

“Not before my faith and security were shattered. In all honesty, I don’t think they can ever be repaired. All I knew was I had a loving father figure who protected me, then the next day I was in an empty apartment hungry, cold, scared and lonely.”

Inside the truck was warm and toasty. He saw her shiver, fighting to control her emotions. Her wounds were deep. Her fears and pain were what kept Trae in Crystal’s life. Her emotions had won over logic. He thought about his own childhood wounds. How they affected his decisions. In this case he saw the angel was the one who needed saving.

“We’ve kept Crystal in ignorant bliss. To her Trae and Skeet are her loving cousins.” She released a drawn-out sigh. “Don’t get me wrong. I hate what Trae does. I’m sickened by it. I’ve been begging him to change for years. He’s an excellent father, just as Dan was. This shows me he has some goodness in him. He will change, just as Dan did.” She peered out the window.

“I’m a legitimate businessman. I can’t…” But, his heart never led him wrong before. He chose Ebony.

“I understand.” She patted his thigh. “I truly understand.”

He continued down the road. “Sometimes I think Nonno can tell the future.” He expected her to comment, but she remained silent. “Ebony, please face me.”

She looked over her shoulder at him. His heart stopped. Tears were streaming down her face. He instantly knew why Trae changed his mind. Richard would do anything to keep from seeing her so broken.

He parked on the side of the road and pulled her into his arms. “I’m sorry, Ebony.”

“It’s not you. I’m just tired and hungry.”

He didn’t believe her. “Nonno instructed me to stir up the family. He’s a troublemaker.” He lifted her chin with his fingertip and peered into her eyes. “I’m just like him.” He bent, brushing his lips over hers. “I’ve wanted to do this all day.” The faint scent of sweet pea warmed him, the softness of her full lips teased him, her proximity aroused him.

He kissed her lightly. “You are tempting me to do things I shouldn’t do.” He felt one corner of his mouth tip up higher than the other. “At least not outside. Make that outside in the winter.”

He continued driving down the road, happy he had brought a smile to her face.

* * *

Ebony stood in the foyer of Richard’s condo, thinking
antiseptic
. The polished hardwood floors did nothing to warm the large open space he called the living, dining and kitchen areas. The bare white walls begged for decorative covering.

“Nice couch,” Ebony commented, as she took the two steps down into the living room. She ran her hand along the black leather sofa, searching for something else to compliment. Finding nothing, she said, “I think Dan has one like this in his office.”

“I’ll fix us something to eat after I change. Make yourself at home.” He went off to his bedroom. “Two minutes.”

She walked around the practically bare condo. Its aura was lonely, cold. The kitchen surprised her. Expecting to find the room without cooking equipment and a garbage can filled with take out bags, she found, instead, a fully stocked, obviously used gourmet kitchen.

She returned to the living area. She would have turned on the television or radio, but saw none. She sorted through the books on the end table, all Isaac Asimov and Octavia Butler. She loved science fiction, too.