Playing the Hand You're Dealt (12 page)

BOOK: Playing the Hand You're Dealt
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“She's so damn phony and evil,” I snarled, still talking about Mother.
Emily shook her head. “Samantha, don't you think you're being a little harsh? She's not
that
bad. I mean, she's your mom.”
Poor thing. I knew she was still mourning Ms. Lucille's death, and probably thought I was a disrespectful ingrate for talking about my mother the way I did. But she didn't know the real Brenda Baldwin. For some reason, Mother had always put on a good face in front of Emily. I could tell my friend some stories that would make her want to curse, too. But Emily didn't need to hear all that garbage, so I decided to change the subject. “Tell me how your first week of school went.”
Emily perked up with a big smile. “The other teachers are friendly and the kids are so bright!”
I was happy to hear the joy in my best friend's voice. Things were finally falling into place for her. She talked for nearly a half hour as we moved on to polishing our toes. She told me all about her students, the friends she'd made at her school, her flamboyant neighbor with the perfect teeth and hair, and the fabulous new upgrades that her contractor had added to her house.
After the pizza arrived we headed to the kitchen to continue our girl talk. But as I listened to Emily, one thing became very clear. She'd been here for nearly a month and she hadn't gone out on a single date in all that time.
“Emily,” I said, sitting my pepperoni slice on my plate. “Why haven't you met a man yet? What's up?”
She waved me off. “There you go again.”
“Listen, I know the dating scene is rough, but you're gorgeous and you have a lot to offer. I can't believe you haven't met anyone who piques your interest?”
She took a sip of her sparkling water and lowered her eyes. “I've been way too busy trying to get my life together. I don't need a man to complicate things.”
“Wow, now, that's a good attitude to have.”
“I'm serious. Between school and the house, I haven't had time to think about dating. Right now my focus is on lesson plans and my move next Saturday.”
“Have you ever thought that meeting a new man could add excitement, not complications, to your life?”
“Maybe.”
“Girl, at this rate, CJ will be dating before you,” I teased as I took a bite of my pizza. We both had to laugh on that one.
Just then, we looked up when we heard a key rattle in the back door. I hoped it wasn't Mother, and to my relief it wasn't. It was Daddy, and even though he was visibly tired, he still managed to give us a big smile. Unlike Mother, who was out socializing over apple martinis, Daddy had been grinding it out at the office. I knew he would be glad when his big trial was over. He was in serious warrior mode. We talked several times a week, and he had mentioned how intense things were right now. But I'd never heard him sound as stressed as he had lately. I was a little worried about him.
“Hello, ladies.” He nodded toward Emily, and then to me. “Did I interrupt a joke?”
“I was just teasing Emily about her love life.”
“Samantha!”
Emily hissed, seeming embarrassed.
She looked at me like I'd just told Daddy her cup size. She'd always been shy around him, but damn, we were family. Daddy looked at her as his second daughter and couldn't care less about her boring-ass love life.The trial was all he was focused on.
“You've met someone?” Daddy asked Emily, raising his brow. I guess he was thinking that it was about time.
“No,” I interrupted, “and that's the problem. But don't worry, I'm gonna hook my girl up and introduce her to some men in this city.” I grinned as Emily looked on like she was still embarrassed. “Anyway, how was your day, Daddy?”
“Long, but good. I'll leave you two alone to enjoy the rest of your evening.” He gave us a smile, said good night, and then headed into his study.
Emily looked at me with slight annoyance. “Why did you tell him that?”
“Chill, it's just Daddy.”
“But you didn't have to tell him . . .”
“Daddy's so involved with his case, he's not even thinking about you. His mind is on the courtroom and that expensive brandy he's about to drink. Besides, there's nothing to tell about your love life because you don't have one.”
Emily folded her arms across her chest. “I guess you have a point.”
We were silent for a moment before she spoke again. “Samantha, does your father drink brandy every night?”
“Yep, ever since I can remember. It's his one guilty pleasure. Why?”
“Just curious.”
“Girl, living with my mother for thirty-two years, can you blame him? I'm surprised he doesn't do more than that.”
At the very mention of her, Emily and I looked up in unison as the door opened and Mother appeared. I held my breath and braced myself for some mess. She walked in and stopped in front of the table. She stared at our plates, mine covered with two pepperoni slices and Emily's with her vegetarian slice.
“Eating food like
that
at this late hour will wreak havoc on your waistlines,” she said as she wrinkled her nose.
Well, I'll be damned! No hello, kiss my ass, or nothing. She couldn't even greet people nicely. Since she was being so nasty, I decided to return the favor. “Kind of like that Grey Goose you've been throwing back tonight. Alcohol can do damage to the waistline, too.” I glared. There, I shut her down like a club at dawn. She was embarrassed as hell, but only because I'd hit a nerve of truth. When she got together with my aunt Dorothy they mixed martinis all night. She drank a little too much and then had the nerve to get behind the wheel . . . and she called me careless and irresponsible!
Mother ignored my remark. “Good night,” she said, smiling nicely in Emily's direction before leaving the room. I guess she had to spread her evil around because I heard her and Daddy exchange irritated words in his study before she went upstairs.
“See what I mean about my mother?”
Emily didn't say anything. “Hey, let's talk about
your
love life.” She smiled. “Tell me about your lunch date with Tyme, how'd it go?”
“Hmm, I don't know how to feel about him.”
“What do you mean? He sounds like a dream, and any man who'll offer up his weekend to do manual labor is worth giving a chance,” she said.
“It's hard to explain. He's handsome, smart, considerate, and very nice. But there's something about him that makes me want to hold back.”
Emily stared at me, chewing her veggie slice while she listened with intense concern. I knew what she was thinking, so I addressed the question before she asked it. “And no, it's not because he's straitlaced. I'm older now, and I know I should look for other things in a man besides a good time.”
“Do you have a good time with him?”
“Yeah.”
“Does he make you laugh?”
I thought about Emily's question, and the answer I came up with threw me for a loop. “Actually no. I mean, he makes me smile, but he's never made me laugh.”
“Drop him.”
“What?”
“Drop him now,” she repeated.
I was shocked. “I know you're not telling me to drop a decent, upstanding man just because he doesn't have jokes?” I hoped the hardness of the city hadn't already started to affect my friend.
Emily put down her pizza slice and wiped her mouth. She leaned forward in her chair and gave me the familiar, soft and sincere expression I had come to know over the years. “Samantha, I might not have much of a love life, but one thing I do know is that you need a man who can make you laugh. Laughter is medicine for the soul.”
I thought about Emily's words as she continued. “Remember back to the times in your past relationships when a man made you laugh, and not because you were out partying.” She paused. “I'm talking about laughter that came from a general conversation when he said something simple, yet so funny that it made you both crack up like you were sitting in a comedy club.That's the kind of laughter that comes from deep inside, and a man who can bring laughter from that place can reach your heart.”
I reflected back, knowing I had experienced that feeling only once—with Tyler. That man could have me rolling so hard I had tears in my eyes. “Did Bradley ever make you feel that way?” I asked.
“No.”
“Has any man ever made you feel that way?”
Emily looked off to the corner, like she was thinking about someone from her past just like I was. “Yes, but it was never meant to be.”
I nodded and wondered who she was talking about. We shared everything, but as I knew all too well, some memories were better left alone and untouched. I lowered my head, trying to block out my past.
Ever since Mother walked through the door, the mood in the room had shifted from fun and lighthearted to bleak and dreary.We were laughing and having a good time until she killed it with her wicked aura. But I refused to let her funk up my groove. “Back to your love life.” I grinned.“Have you had a chance to test any of the goodies I got you?”
Emily smiled wide and put her hand up to her mouth as she blushed. “I have to thank you, girl! You know how to hook a sister up!”
“See, I knew you were a closet freak!”
We giggled like schoolgirls, carrying on so loudly that Daddy jokingly yelled from his study down the hall, “Don't you two get into any trouble.”
After our laughter and sex talk, I decided to tell Emily about the dumb mistake I made—sleeping with Carl. She didn't look surprised, and as usual, she didn't judge me. The thing I loved about my friendship with Emily was that she accepted me as I was. She was the only person in whom I'd ever felt that level of trust. I didn't even tell Daddy all of my business.
“Samantha,” Emily said in her soft but solidly firm voice that let you know she was dead serious. “Please stay away from Carl. I have a bad feeling about where he's headed, and I don't want him to take you there with him. Promise me you're going to leave him alone?”
“Emily, you ain't said nothin' but a word.”
I really meant it this time. I was going to stay away from Carl. He had called me right before I got home this afternoon and this time I picked up. I told him that if he didn't leave me alone I'd file a stalking complaint and get a stay-away order issued for his ass. That seemed to defuse him because no matter how bold Carl was, he didn't want any trouble from the police. It was amazing, that with all the shit he pulled and his criminal activities, he had never served a single day behind bars in his thirty-three years on earth. He was just that slick.
I planned to heed Emily's advice and my own gut feelings because I could smell the trouble that was brewing. I made up my mind. I would go out with Tyme again and see where it led because I needed a change in my life.
Chapter 9
Ed . . .
 
 
 
 
You Looking for a Change?
 
I
was trying to block out the sounds coming from the kitchen as Emily's delicate hiccup-like laughter pounded in my ear. She and Sam were having a good time talking about all the men that my daughter was lining up for her. I knew I shouldn't be so sardonic, but I couldn't help myself. When Sam made the remark about playing matchmaker, I wanted to probe but I couldn't.This kind of thing was maddening for me.
As I sat in my study enjoying the smooth taste of my brandy, its pleasure drew me back to the encounter I'd shared with Emily several weeks ago when I surprised her by showing up at her new house unannounced. She was having problems with her contractor, so I thought that rather than draft a threatening letter, a face-to-face showdown with the man would be more effective. Plus, I was dying for an opportunity to be in a space with Emily other than in this house.
She thanked me, and then insisted on repaying me for my efforts. I told her that a simple smile was all I needed. Man, she lit up and gave me more than I'd expected. Her smile gave me hope. When I looked into her eyes that day, something told me that she knew what I was thinking, and I believe she was thinking the same thing, too. I was a good judge of human behavior, and I was rarely if ever wrong about people's intentions or motivations. That smile sparked something, and it led to more intense moments, like last week.
As usual, I had been in my study having a nightcap, going over case documents for the coming week. Brenda was out at a volunteer function for her sorority, and Emily was reading CJ a bedtime story. After Emily finished, I heard her quietly tiptoe down the stairs. She increased her pace as she passed by my study, avoiding me. She walked through the kitchen and headed out the back door on her way to visit with Gerti, as she did from time to time.
After an hour or so, I heard the soft sound of the door open and close. Emily tried to creep past my door again without being noticed, but this time I stopped her. I needed to talk to her. “How are things coming with the house?” I called out from behind my desk. I knew this would be a safe opening.
She stopped in the middle of my doorway and hesitated for a moment. “Everything's working out well. Emmanuel says they'll be finished very soon, finally.”
She said the last part with relief. I knew she was ready to have her own place, but I hated that she was so eager to leave. I'd miss seeing her around the house, even if it was only for a glimpse. I walked over to her and stood close. I could tell by her body language that she was nervous because she leaned back against the door frame. It was a move meant to put distance between us, but I could still feel her heat.
“Do you need help with your move? I can lend a hand.”
She shook her head. “That's okay. I know you're busy with your big case. Samantha's going to help and—”
I had to interrupt. “Emily, I believe that women are every bit as capable as men, but I'm also an old-fashioned gentleman, and I'd never let two ladies move a houseload of furniture by themselves.”
“Oh, we won't be.” She smiled, clearing her throat. “Samantha's new friend and a few of his buddies are going to help us.”
My head involuntarily jerked back. I knew I had to intervene in the situation. I loved my daughter dearly, but she made terrible choices in men. I didn't know much about the new guy she was seeing because she'd barely mentioned him in our conversations, which wasn't a good sign. Knowing that, I could only imagine what his buddies were like. “You're moving on a Saturday, right?” I asked.
“Yes.”
“Court's not in session during the weekend.”
She looked around the room, avoiding my eyes. Finally, she spoke. “I'm sure you have more important things to do with your weekend than move furniture.”
“I can't think of anything I'd rather do more, especially since it would mean helping you.”
I watched her closely as a slight smile came to her face. She still wouldn't look at me, but she nodded and told me that she appreciated my offer. We stood close to each other as the room became warm. It was a noticeable heat that could only be explained by the chemistry building between us. I took a deep breath and leaned against the other side of the door, inhaling the soft floral notes of her perfume. We were close enough to reach out and touch each other. Just as I was feeling dangerously comfortable, Emily broke the trance.
“I guess I should head to bed now. Good night,” she said, making a quick exit.
I stood in my doorway and watched as she walked down the hall toward the stairs. Her slow, sexy strut made the front of my trousers come to life and I wondered what it would be like to make love to her. When she reached the banister she looked back and caught me staring. Our eyes locked. I should've looked away, but I didn't, so she did.
Now, as I sat in my study reflecting on that moment along with a few others, I could see that my observations hadn't been wishful thinking.This was real, it was within my grasp, and I couldn't avoid it much longer.
Under different circumstances this wouldn't be a problem. I'd confess my feelings to the woman I loved and that would be that. But I was a married man, and the woman I loved was my daughter's best friend. It was the kind of situation that could hurt people, physically and emotionally. But Emily had given me hope, and a man with hope can weather anything if he thinks it's worth the fight.
I was glad it was Friday.The past five days had been professionally gratifying, but personally frustrating. I had a great week in court, working the witnesses and the jury as if they were under my spell. It soon became apparent that things were going downhill for the defense. First thing this morning, two hours before court was to be called to session, lead counsel for the opposing side called and offered my client our initial asking figure. I laughed and told him to keep dreaming. The stakes had risen, and I didn't hesitate to tell him how high. Twenty minutes later he called again and capitulated. My client accepted.
The trial that we all thought would last for two months was over in two weeks, and we were going to get a substantial amount above our initial request.You'd think this would've kicked off my weekend and that I'd be on top of the world. Well, I wasn't. I was happy for my client, of course, because now the big oil company that knowingly exposed her husband to cancer-causing agents was going to pay for its corruptness, and for his death. But ever since last Friday when Sam told me that she was playing matchmaker for Emily, I hadn't been able to get that thought out of my head.
Right now, it was almost ten o'clock and Emily wasn't home. She was out with Sam. Even though I knew that whatever they were doing, it probably involved Emily's house because she was moving in tomorrow, I still wondered if Sam had introduced her to someone new. I'd never been the jealous type, but lately I found myself thinking about Emily out on the dating scene. She was a beautiful woman, and I knew her attributes hadn't gone unnoticed, especially not here in DC.
As I polished off my brandy, I heard Gerti rustling around in the kitchen. She was getting my coffee and bagel ready for the morning. I needed a distraction from my thoughts, so I walked in and joined her, bringing my empty snifter with me. “Hey, Gerti.” I smiled.
“Hey there.”
“How's it going?”
“Goin' like it always goes.” She chuckled. “How're you holding up?”
“I'm fine.”
“You sure?”
“Of course I'm sure.Why? You don't think I am?”
She shook her head. “Didn't say that.You just seem real stressed lately.”
“Well, you know, the trial and everything.”
“Mmm-hmm.” She sliced the bagel and put it in the toaster.
I studied Gerti as she performed the nightly task that she'd perfected over the years. She could do it with her eyes closed. “Do you ever get tired of getting my coffee and bagel ready every night, and washing out this damn brandy snifter?” I asked, sitting my glass on the counter.
She laughed, took my glass, and put it in the sink. “You ever get tired of it?”
“Sometimes.”
“You looking for a change?”
I shrugged. “Maybe.”
“Mmm-hmm,” she mumbled again, this time looking at me as she folded her arms. “I'm sure gonna miss Emily. It's been real nice having her around.”
I nodded. “CJ will miss her, too, but this move will be good for her.”
“Mmm-hmm.”
Gerti was mmm-hmming as if she had knowledge of something that no one else was privy to. She was a tried and trusted old friend.We didn't have a lot of in-depth conversations, but we knew each other well. In many ways, she knew me better than Brenda did. She knew little things, like exactly how much starch I liked in my shirts and how much salt I liked on my vegetables. She knew when I was tired and not just frustrated. She could sense when I wanted to talk and when I preferred to be left alone to think in silence. She knew my habits and quirks, good and bad. And just as she knew me, I knew her, and her mmm-hmms meant something.
Gerti smiled. “Guess I'll turn in now.” She walked to the back door, then stopped and looked at me. “Funny thing about change.” She sighed. “Most people don't change what they want, they change where they get it from.”
And like that, I knew she understood. “Good night, Gerti.”
“Good night, Ed.”
I stood alone in the empty kitchen, staring at the coffeemaker and toaster.
The next morning CJ and I sat at the breakfast table. He lingered over his cereal and toast while I drank my coffee and ate my bagel. He was usually a bundle of energy on Saturday mornings and you could hardly tear him away from his cartoons. But he was sad today because Emily was moving out. He looked up at me with the most sincere expression and asked, “Papa, can I go over to Auntie Emee's new house and visit her?”
“Sure, sport,” I said. I reminded him that he'd still see her at school every day, which brought a smile to his face and changed his mood. I smiled, too, because I suddenly realized that taking him over for visits would be a way for me to see Emily from time to time without suspicion.
After breakfast, I dropped off CJ at his friend Ray's house to play for the day, and then headed over to Emily's place. The sun was shining brightly and it was hot as hell outside. I didn't see Emily's car so I assumed Emmanuel had completed her garage in the back.
I found a space on the other side of her street and saw the large U–Haul double-parked in front of Emily's row house. Her door was ajar, so I walked inside. I didn't focus on the people in the room right away because I was admiring how nicely the completed renovations had turned out. I could see that Emily had made Emmanuel pay dearly for his malfeasance. But when I finally began to take in the sight in front of me, I had to force myself to stay calm. What stood out the most over the richly painted walls, high-end lighting fixtures, and shiny hardwood floors was the group of men I saw. There were six of them, sitting on the floor with Sam and Emily, eating danishes and drinking coffee.
BOOK: Playing the Hand You're Dealt
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