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Authors: Jordyn Tracey

Tags: #Romance, #Contemporary, #Multicultural, #Multicultural & Interracial

Loving Jiro (2 page)

BOOK: Loving Jiro
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Chapter Two

Kiara dragged in a nervous breath and adjusted her grip on the Cajun cake in her hands. Visiting Dennis wasn't the easiest, but he was her only family. And even if her cousin acted like he didn't like her, she would not give up on him. Besides, he wouldn't be on this Earth much longer.

She used her hip to bump open the door while pasting a smile on her face. “Hey, Dennis. What's up? I brought you a present.” She held the cake higher for him to see. He squinted, the sour look on his face not failing in the least.

"You? When are you going to get tired of trying, Kiara?” he complained. “Oh, probably when I'm dead. If you're hoping for an inheritance to help you take care of your good for nothing boyfriend, forget it. I'm just short of being as broke as you are."

Kiara imagined snuffing the last of his life out with his pillow over his head, but tamped down such evil thoughts. The man was three times her age and dying of heart disease. She needed to overlook his meanness. “Of course not. I'm here because I love you, Dennis. You're my cousin, my only family. And look here, I've brought you your favorite, Cajun cake. I made it myself."

He grumbled but took the cake. “They don't allow me this kind of food, but I'll take it. Maybe someone else will like it. You can't cook worth a damn."

She wasn't fooled. Her cousin scoffed down whatever she brought him. Kiara might not have much, but she could cook if she did say so herself. Dennis would eat most of the cake before he was persuaded to share with anyone else from a stuffed belly. She had learned long ago how to get him to accept her, at least in part.

She smiled. “You don't fool me, Dennis.” She set the cake on the table in front of him and produced a plastic knife and saucer from her purse. As she cut a slice, she reviewed the ingredients to entice him. “I know how you love pineapple, so I added a little extra, although the recipe only called for one can. And the flaked coconut, the pecans and vanilla with sugar. Yum! You know you want it."

Pretending, she was about to serve herself the thick slice, she nearly laughed out loud at his grunt of annoyance. “Give it to me, damn it! If it will make you shut up.” He took a huge bite and smacked while he ate. Kiara decided against having a slice of her own. “Have you left him yet?"

"Many times.” No matter how many times she explained to Dennis that Odell managed to find her each time she left him, he wouldn't believe she desperately wanted to get away, to feel safe. “The last time, four months ago, nearly killed me."

He licked his finger and pressed it to the crumbs left on his plate. “Looks like you're still dying. Thin as a rail, hair all stringy.” He shrugged. “You're dying anyway."

She ran a hand through her shoulder length brown-black hair. Yes, it was thinner lately, but it had never been as coarse and thick as she would have liked, as she admired on other African American women. Perhaps it was because her great grandmother was a full-blooded Cherokee. No matter. She wasn't a complete anecdote either, as Dennis seemed to think. “I am not dying. I happen to be a healthy weight for my five foot five inch frame, and at twenty-eight, I'm in great shape."

"You're a short bean pole."

"Well, I'm not here to argue with you, Dennis. How are you? Do you need anything?"

His eyebrow went up at that last question, but he said nothing. Kiara knew that look. It meant whether he needed anything or not, she had no means of getting it. That wasn't always true. Sometimes, she could barter her time and skills to get the things she needed. On many occasions, she had convinced people to let her do a mural on their walls in exchange for food or other items.

"I have a new student. Her older brother brought her by yesterday.” She straightened his room as she spoke. “I think this may be a great opportunity for me, especially for the simple fact that he has money. He can afford to pay. And if his sister has talent and enough interest, I might be able to hold on to this one for a long time. It's money I can depend on."

Dennis cut a new piece of cake. “That's a big
if
."

"Don't be so negative.” She cleaned up the mess he made and put the cake to the side. His eyes followed the treat as it moved. “I believe this will turn into a big break for me. Just wish me luck for once, Dennis."

"Luck!” He crammed the cake in his mouth with vengeance. “Luck? There's no such thing!” Too late, she sensed the tirade coming, the pity party following too much sugar. Why hadn't she remembered that before trying to buy his affection with her dessert? “Where was luck when I was born to a man who thought it was fun to beat and bang on my mother? Where was luck when he went too far and killed her then himself? I certainly was right there to see it all, to see him pull that trigger. And you,” he spat in disgust. “Following in your aunt's shoes, letting a man beat you. You think I'll let myself care about you? I won't. I have no respect for people who let this happen. You're weak and stupid."

She stood. “Maybe I should go."

He went on as if she hadn't spoken. “The only good thing about you is that you haven't brought any children in this world to watch the destruction. Sure won't catch me having kids. It ends right here. When this heart gives out, that's it. That's it for this godforsaken family and good riddance."

"Dennis ... “she attempted.

"Shut up!” He pressed his hands over his ears like a child. “I don't want to hear the excuses that you've run away and he finds you. You wanted to be found. You think he loves you, that's why he hits you!"

Kiara clenched her hands at her sides. She knew her cousin needed to calm down. He couldn't be upset, and if the doctor found out, he might not let her visit. “You're wrong,” she muttered. He fell silent. “I know he hates me, maybe more than he hates himself. I don't feel like he's all I can get or that I somehow deserve this. Unlike your experience, my parents were wonderful. I miss them with all my heart, and regret every day I didn't go on that trip the time they were killed in that avalanche because I was too ill to go. Tragedy has followed this family like a curse. But I haven't given up. I believe that some day I will escape. I will experience love and happiness. I just don't know how to get free right now. But I will. I promise you, I will."

He waved his hand in disbelief, but he had calmed. The rant had tired him out. Now, he seemed to want to be left alone. Kiara lowered his bed some, pulled his blanket up to his chin and turned to leave. His words behind her, made her pause at the door.

"What happened to me happened so many years ago, Kiara. And some say I should have gotten over it by now, but the fact that I never have is a testament to how abuse destroys a life. If I have a few months left or a few years, it's too long to watch you let that man take your life a little at a time. Don't bother coming back. Not even Cajun cake is worth it."

* * * *

Hoisting her bag more securely on her shoulder, Kiara took the hour and a half bus ride out to the county, where she knew she would fare better in selling a few portraits and doing some bartering with the richer, but still frugal residents. Two strip malls were along her bus route, and if she humped it a mile, she could get over to the indoor mall. Right then, she didn't have enough to get home, let alone take another bus ride. She wasn't worried; she had done this a thousand times before.

She strolled along the walkway in the strip mall, looking for the ideal place. A pizza place, an insurance office, a hair and nails salon. She stopped. The painting of a hand on the door looked slightly worn and in peeking through the door to the interior, she saw that the only decor on the walls were a few advertisements.
Bland
. She slipped inside.

"May I help you?” the Asian woman asked as soon as she crossed the doorframe.

Kiara nodded. “Yes, please. I noticed your hand painting on the door as I passed by, and I'm sure I can be of help to you. Let me show you a few things..."

Twenty minutes later and she had a sale, but unfortunately, not only could she not start work on their busiest day, she wouldn't get paid a dime until the job was done. That meant she would need to raise the funds to come back out, plus gather enough paints to do the mural she had talked the woman into.

Squaring her shoulders for the next pitch, she started along the walk again, praying the next place would give her immediate work.

"Ms. Jackson!"

She stopped and turned at the young voice calling to her. Shading her eyes against the sun, she spotted Ayumi of all people on the other side of the street, holding a man's hand she didn't recognize. Disappointment that it wasn't her brother made Kiara smile, wave and then continue on.

"Wait, Ms. Jackson. Please."

She stopped once again. Before she knew what the girl intended, she broke away from the man holding her hand and hurled herself into Kiara's arms. Taken aback at the over-friendly manner when she had been shy and quiet when they met, Kiara stumbled and righted herself. “Hello, Ayumi."

The girl grinned up at her, face red with embarrassment. “Oh,
sumimasen
. I'm sorry. I have been speaking with Jiro-san about my lessons so much, I felt like I knew you. Please, don't be offended. I want to learn to draw well so much."

Kiara, overjoyed at the girl's enthusiasm, patted her face. “Don't worry. I'm not offended. I'm glad you're excited. I find people learn much faster and easier when they are excited about what they are doing.” She glanced up at the frowning man behind Ayumi who looked like he wanted to reprimand the girl but didn't in front of Kiara.

Ayumi leaned toward Kiara to whisper, “My babysitter. Don't mind him. He's a grump, and he treats me like a little kid. I'm nine for goodness sake and don't need my hand held to cross the street."

Kiara laughed. All semblance of respectful Japanese girl was gone to be replaced by a regular old American. She knew immediately that she liked Ayumi either way.

"Ms. Jackson, why don't you come to lunch with us? I would love to talk about what you will be teaching me on Tuesday.” Kiara laughed. Now the girl sounded like an adult.

"I'm sorry, sweetie. I have some errands to run. I'll have to take a rain check.” Kiara extracted herself from the girl's hold. “I will see you on Tuesday for sure, bright and early."

Like her brother, Kiara guessed, Ayumi was not used to taking no for an answer. “You can do errands any time, after lunch maybe. Come on, please?"

Kiara had been focusing on Ayumi and did not hear anyone come up, but when she heard his deep resonant voice, a shiver spread through her body. He spoke to Ayumi in Japanese, and she answered in the same. Kiara took her time straightening and turning to face him. Her heart fluttered. Today, he was dressed casually, although just as tastefully, in a collared shirt, shorts and sandals. The obligatory glasses hid his eyes.

"Forgive me.” He bowed. “Good afternoon, Kiara.” She pretended the funny way he said her name did nothing to her insides. “I asked my sister if she was bothering you. She informed me that she asked you to lunch, and you declined. May I ask why?"

Kiara blinked. He actually waited politely for her to respond, to offer a reasonable explanation for why should wouldn't join them. “I..."

"While I would never want to spoil my sister, I do not tell her no for the sake of it. So if there is nothing pressing that can't wait an hour, please allow her to take you to lunch."

"Her ... to ... take
me
?” She knew she sounded like a complete idiot. He made it sound like Ayumi had money of her own and would be treating Kiara.

He confirmed her thoughts. “Oh yes. Occasionally, Ayumi gets it into her head that she must return the kindnesses she feels I've heaped on her and she will then invite me to lunch. She pays with her own money. I graciously accept, although I take care of her as a duty and an honor. I love her deeply."

Kiara swallowed and tried to find words.

"Will you also honor my sister's request?"

Honor
, she thought. She didn't understand much about their ways, she was sure, but she wanted to do just what he asked, honor Ayumi's request. “Okay, yes. I will."

He smiled, setting her off balance. “Good, it's settled."

* * * *

Jiro dismissed the ‘babysitter’ for the day and took Ayumi and Kiara up in his car. Lunch turned out to be at a restaurant that while it didn't have a dress code, it was quite expensive. The prices on the menus made her head spin, and out of habit, she scanned to find the cheapest.

Ayumi leaned over to her to speak in a loud whisper. “I always get the chicken fingers and fries. I've been to a million fancy restaurants all over the world, and most of them serve normal food along with that crazy stuff. You can't go wrong with chicken fingers."

Kiara laughed. “Sounds like a good idea, but shouldn't I try something I've never had?"

With a straight face, the young girl asked, “Have you ever had the chicken fingers here?"

"No."

She winked. “Then trust me. They are delicious. Get ranch dressing and honey mustard both.” She lowered her voice this time. “You'll want to lick your fingers, but of course Jiro-san won't let you."

Kiara slapped a hand over her mouth and tears ran down her cheeks before she could stop laughing. Just two minutes in Ayumi's presence, and she had made her day. Yet, as soon as she met Jiro's eyes, her humor settled. She was too attracted to the man for her own good. She cleared her throat. “Sorry."

"No problem at all.” He grinned. “Ayumi has that affect on everyone she meets. I like seeing that beautiful smile of yours."

She fidgeted.

He held up his hands in surrender. “I'm sorry. That was crossing the line. Come, we'll talk of whatever you like, and I will not make inappropriate statements that make you uncomfortable. What would you like to talk about?"

Ayumi led the conversation with talk of art until their food arrived. Kiara had to agree. The food was good enough to lick her fingers, but she resisted with a wink at Ayumi. The girl was overjoyed at their little secret, making Kiara wonder where her mother was. She didn't ask.

BOOK: Loving Jiro
11.71Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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