Secrets On Lake Drive (6 page)

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Authors: Tina Martin

Tags: #teacher, #womens fiction, #secrets, #adoption, #single, #love lost, #bachelor, #heartbreak

BOOK: Secrets On Lake Drive
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“How is everything?” he asked again, as he
did earlier when he called.

“Everything is fine, Sean.” I replied before
yawning.

“Ah, okay. You said that like I’m bugging
you or something.”

That’s because you are!
“No, you’re
not bugging me. I’m just a little tired, that’s all.”

I don’t know why he felt the need to call
and check up on me like I was sixteen. I mean, after all, I was his
son’s teacher for goodness sake. I know how to take care of
kids.

“What y’all do today?”

“Played catch. Roman is taking a nap right
now.”

“Oh, okay. Sounds good. Ah, listen…my
brothers are coming over this afternoon. Just let them in for me,
okay? I told them that you were there.”

Great. Now I have to deal with more
characters.
I heard his brothers were just as bad as he was
when it came to females, but they weren’t rich.

“Okay. I can do that.”

“Ah’ight. Later,” he said, and there I sat
listening to the dial tone again. Rude bastard.

Ignoring Sean’s idiotic no-cooking policy, I
began cooking dinner anyway. And since he had family coming over,
it would be perfect timing to offer them something to eat. So, I
whipped up some fried chicken, stuffing, mashed potatoes, and
macaroni.

As soon as I took the macaroni out of the
oven, the doorbell rang. I ran to the door, opened it, and was
shocked when I saw two men standing there looking almost identical
to Sean. They had two little boys with them.

One of them reached out to shake my hand.
“Hi, I’m Warren. This is my brother Derrick.”

Derrick spoke up next. “And these are my two
boys, Dallas and Damarion.”

I remained mute, not knowing what to say to
them. All I kept thinking was how much they both looked like
Sean.

“By the look on your face, I take it Sean
didn’t tell you that he was a triplet, huh?” Derrick said,
smiling.

I noticed right away that they had some of
the same mannerisms. The pitch of their voices was about the same
and they had those same prominent green eyes. They must have worked
out, too, but they weren’t as buff as Sean was. They weren’t
identical either, though Warren looked more like Sean than Derrick
did.

“Ah, no, he didn’t mention he was a triplet.
Wow. This is crazy. You both look like him especially you, Warren.”
I was at a loss for words and just stood there in a daze for a
moment. “Excuse my manners. Come on in, guys.”

Once inside, they sat on the couch, while I
sat in a recliner across from them and just stared.

“Where’s Roman?” Derrick asked me, breaking
the silence.

“Oh, he’s taking a nap. Can I get you guys
something to eat or drink? I made dinner. Why don’t you come in the
kitchen and I’ll make a plate for you.”

They followed me in the kitchen and sat at
the table while I searched the cabinets for bigger plates. Once I
made their plates, Derrick and Warren sat and ate like they haven’t
had a home cooked meal in a long time. Dallas and Damarion went in
the family room to eat the macaroni that I put on their plates.

“This is really good,” mumbled Warren after
he bit into a piece of chicken.

“Yeah, this is off the hook. Sean is always
ordering food,” said Derrick. “He doesn’t like for anyone to
cook.”

“Yeah, I know. I’m just defying his
authority,” I replied casually.

“So I hear you’re a teacher,” Warren
said
.

So Sean must have been talking about me.
Wonder what else he told them about me.

“Yeah. Well I
was
a teacher…don’t
know if I’m going back next year. I’m actually planning on changing
careers.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah. I was thinking I could do something
in photography.”

Just then, Roman came downstairs rubbing his
eyes.

“Hey, honey. Are you okay?” He had a look on
his face as if he didn’t get enough sleep.

“Yesss.”

“Do you want something to eat?”

“Uh huh.” Roman was still rubbing his eyes
to a proper focus. “Hey, Uncle Warren. Hey, Uncle Derrick,” Roman
said.

“Roman, Dallas and Damarion are in the
family room,” Derrick told him after I handed Roman a plate of
macaroni.

“Okay.”

Sean was home about twenty minutes later.
When he walked in the kitchen and opened the door, a frown grew in
his forehead.

“Did you cook this?” he asked, pointing to
the food.

“Yeah, I cooked that. Would you like…”

“I thought I told you not to cook!”

Did I miss something here? Since when
does cooking make someone go psycho?
By his reaction, you would
think I set the house on fire.

“You mean to tell me that you’re angry at me because
I cooked?”

He was heated and came walking up to me like
he needed to be in my face for me to hear him. “This is my house,
Monica. There’s a certain way I do things around here.”

He stood there huffing and puffing like a
five-year-old that just got spanked. The whole scene was just
ridiculous.

“You need to back up out of my face, Sean.
What on earth is wrong with you?” I couldn’t believe how he just
stood there in front of me like a tyrant, like he wanted to start
an argument over nothing. After all, it was just dinner, and it
wasn’t necessary for him to get angry because of my nice gesture.
If anything, he should’ve been thanking me.

Warren stepped in between me and Sean. “Man,
calm down. She just cooked dinner for us, that’s all. Give her a
break.”

Enough with the drama. I went upstairs,
upset and embarrassed. So much for first impressions. I had just
met his brothers and this is the way they see Sean and I interact
for the first time. Roman was standing in there, too. He had come
back into the kitchen when he heard all the commotion. He was only
six, but he was a smart six-year-old. He knew a lot about the world
around him, and came to realize how disappointed I was.

“Ms. Smith, why doesn’t my daddy wike you?”
he asked, walking into my room.

How am I supposed to answer a question
like that?
I just can’t come out and tell the boy that his
daddy is an arrogant, selfish, control freak.

“Sweetie, your father is fine and so am I.
Now go back downstairs, okay?”

“Ookaaay,” Roman said sadly.

I could tell he didn’t want to go back
downstairs, and I didn’t fault him for not wanting to. Sean had
some serious personality flaws. Warren knew it, and that’s why he
came banging on my door.

“I’m sorry about that,” he apologized for
his brother’s actions.

“Warren, why are you apologizing? You didn’t
do anything to me.”

“I know, but if I don’t, Sean certainly
won’t.”

Warren seemed like the mediator of the family. He
was the oldest of the triplets, then came Derrick, then came Sean.
Even though they were triplets, I’m sure they developed their own
distinct personalities at a very early age. Since Warren was the
oldest and the mature one, he was supposed to set an example for
his younger brothers. Derrick seemed to be the player, the smooth
talker, the womanizer. From the looks of his sons, Dallas and
Damarion, I assumed he had two baby mommas since those boys didn’t
look anything alike. Sean was somewhat of a ladies’ man, too, but
he was the driven one, the one that wouldn’t take no for an
answer.

“Out of us boys, Sean is the one who took after our
father the most. He was a strict man. For him, everything had to be
on point. He didn’t tolerate any nonsense from anyone. My brother
is just like him. He said the reason he went off like that is
because he didn’t want people coming here changing things.”

“Changing what? I just cooked dinner. What’s
the harm in that?”

“I’ma tell you what he told me. He said the
last time the stove was ever used was when Shanelle, his ex-wife,
tried to cook a romantic dinner for him a few weeks before he found
out she’d been cheating. He said he came home after a long day of
work to the smell of burned chicken and the high pitch sound of the
smoke alarm blaring in his ear coupled with baby Roman’s cries to
be saved from his playpen after being cooped up in it all day with
a soggy diaper and an empty bottle.”

“Oh,” I said with raised eyebrows. At least
there was a reason behind the madness. “Well, I understand a little
now.”

“Alright. Try to enjoy the rest of your day.
We’re heading out to play basketball. I’ll send Roman upstairs with
you.”

“Okay. Thanks, Warren.”

“No problem.” He patted me on the shoulder before
walking out.

I sat there amazed at the difference between Sean’s
raging personality and Warren’s calm one. Warren was warm and
inviting, while Sean was cold and disconnected.

When the men left to play ball, Roman came
upstairs with me. I knew his little antsy body was bored, and
although I was tired, I took him to the park anyway. Long summer
days meant more time for play. After he played for a while, we
stopped by Burger King on the way home for vanilla shakes.

When we got back to the crib, Sean was
sitting on the couch wearing just a pair of blue jeans and some
Nike sandals, which meant once again, I got to see his hairless
chest.

“Hi, Daddy.” Roman said cheerfully, but I
could tell Sean was salty about something.

N
ow what did I do wrong?

“Roman, go to your room,” he demanded, and
Roman went upstairs sad-faced.

Sean then turned his full attention to me.
He didn’t budge from the couch, just sat there like a king and
said, “I called here ten times…ten times with no answer.”

“Why didn’t you call my cell?”

“I don’t have your cell phone number. Where
have you been, Monica?”

“I took
your son
to the park. What’s
wrong with that?”

Sean jumped off the couch and walked towards
me. By now, I was so sick of the drama. I thought this job was
going to be easy, but it seemed to be getting harder by the
minute.

“You should at least have enough decency and
respect for me to tell me where my son is! Don’t…you…ever…leave
this house again…without telling me where you’re taking him! Is
that understood?”

I had to think carefully before I answered.
I couldn’t disrespect the man in his own house, but I was ready to
snap. I had to say something. He just couldn’t keep dishing out
slick comments and think I’m just going to be quiet and take
‘em.

“Well, you could’ve taken him to play
basketball with you. Then you won’t have to sit around the house
and wonder where he is.”

“Yeah, I could have taken him. That’s not
the point. What I’m telling you is that when you leave this house,
I need to know where you are. Do you understand that?”

“Yeah. Whatever.”

I left him there and went upstairs to tuck
Roman in. Then I went into my bedroom to take a deep breath and
calm myself down. I took the hair bow out and let my hair fall into
my hands before sitting on the bed to massage my scalp and ask
myself why I agreed to take this job. When I went to the kitchen to
get a glass of water, Sean was sitting at the table eating some
seafood he had apparently ordered since the sacred stove couldn’t
be touched. He didn’t even bother to taste the food I cooked.

When I saw him sitting there, I wanted to
run back upstairs. I’d had enough from him and didn’t want any
further confrontations. His eyes followed my every move as I walked
in the kitchen, while I pretended not to see him.

“I know you don’t like me, Monica, but you
don’t have to make it so obvious,” he said with a mouth full of
shrimp.

Here we go, and I didn’t even start it
this time.
I think it ticked him off more when I didn’t
acknowledge him.

“Did you not just hear what I said?” he
asked.

“Yeah, I heard you. I just chose not to
respond.”

“Well, I want you to respond to it.”

“Why?”

“Because that’s what humans do when someone
says something to them. They talk back.”

“I’m not in a talking mood tonight.”

He looked at me like I was disgusting to
him. To me, Sean was a prick who got everything he wanted and
demanded that people bow down in front of him because he looks good
and has a lot of money. Not me. I bow down for no man.

“See, that’s what I’m talking about,” he
said, sitting his bottle of water on the table. “You got a serious
problem. Why can’t you just try to compromise and get along with
me?”

“What? Sean, I try my best to be nice to
you. You just make it impossible.”

“How am I making it impossible?”

“You’re always angry and pissed off about
something. Then when you called me on the phone earlier today to
check on Roman, you just hung up the phone without saying bye or
anything, like I’m not important enough for you to actually respect
me. You have to give respect in order to receive it. You can’t just
demand that someone respect you because of your status.”

“The only reason I hung up the phone like
that was because I was in a hurry. It was no reflection of my
feelings for you!”

“Oh, so both times you called me you were in
a hurry? You hung up on me twice.”

“Well, I must have been in a hurry…twice.
I’m not an angry person, but I like what I like, and in case you
forgot, this
i
s
my house.”

“Well, in case you forgot, I’m not here for
you. I’m here for Roman, and I don’t deserve to be treated like one
of your women?”

What did I say that for? I struck a nerve
with that comment. Sean was literally blown away and had more
wrinkles in his forehead than an eighty-year-old chain smoker.

“Women? What women?”

He left his food sitting on the table and
came over to confront me.

“You know what I’m talking about. Don’t play
dumb.”

“Nah, I don’t know what you’re talking
about, so explain. What women?”

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