28
Tiffany
You ever hear about someone ripping your heart from your chest? Well, that's what I felt like. I can't breathe. I might as well die. Sure, Jamaica was fun; but that was just a way to bandage the wound that hadn't healed. Baughn was just a fling. I'll admit he was sexy as all get out and a very nice guy, but he lived in Jamaica and I'm here in the States. What kind of relationship could we really have? That's why I left the country without saying good-bye. I know it was wrong of me, but it is what it is. I didn't want him to get any wild ideas in his head of using me to get a green card. Besides, I still loved Kimbel with everything I had, and that kind of love just doesn't go away overnight. At least it doesn't for me. If only he felt the same way. Lord, was I ever gonna stop loving that man?
I came back to Chicago and found Kimbel had moved all my stuff out of his house and had it delivered to my mama's. Can you believe that? You know she had a fit. I just don't understand it. He didn't even wait for the dust to settle or for the two of us to talk and see if we could salvage our relationship. Instead, he just tossed me out like yesterday's trash. I don't understand it. What we had in eight months, it takes some people a lifetime to find.
During my time away, I did some serious thinking and had time to understand that part of our breakup was my fault. I shouldn't have confronted him like that in front of everyone. Stupid. Stupid. I should have talked about his little situation in private. Through sickness and in health, isn't that what marriage was all about? Kimbel was right. If I hadn't been holding out on him, he wouldn't have needed to go and bang some stripper. My fault. Mama was right. I was the one to blame for everything.
As I sat there staring at the television, feeling sorry for myself, I began to wonder what Kimbel was doing. I knew I shouldn't, but I couldn't help it. I had no willpower when it came to him. I picked up the phone and dialed his number, hoping he would answer this time. If not, then just to hear his voice. I was shocked when he picked up, because he'd been avoiding my phone calls all week.
“Hello?” Kimbel sounded shocked to hear from me.
“Hey.” My heart was pounding so hard I didn't know what else to say.
“Tif, is that you? I was just sitting here, thinking about you.”
My heart leaped. I knew it! I can't even begin to tell you how good that made me feel. “I was thinking about you, too.” My feelings for him hadn't changed. After everything that happened, I still imagined spending the rest of my life with him.
“Listen . . . I'm sorry things went down the way they did. Can you forgive me for hitting you?”
“Yes.” I choked on a sob. I was so relieved we were finally having this conversation. Even with everything he put me through, I still loved him. “I forgive you.”
“Ummmm . . . anyway, I would like to get together tomorrow . . . if that's good with you?”
If that's good for me
? Hell, right now would be even better. But I didn't want Kimbel to think I was anxious to see him. The fact he wanted to get together meant he still cared. “Sure. Where would you like to meet?” The nearest Holiday Inn would be fine with me.
“Actually . . . I can just drop by the salon on my way home from work tomorrow.”
“Work?” Is he for real? A reunion like ours needed to be somewhere private. I glanced down at my watch. If I hurried, I could make a trip to Frederick's of Hollywood before they closed. “How about lunch?”
“I already have plans. Listen, Tif . . . I just need to meet long enough to get my ring back.”
“Excuse me.” I swore my heart stopped pumping. There was no way I had heard him right. “Did you just say you wanted to meet so you could get your ring back?”
Don't you know he had the nerve to chuckle. “C'mon, you didn't think I was going to let you keep it?”
“Yes, as a matter of fact, I did. I thought we'd sell it to help cover some of the wedding expenses.”
Kimbel gave a rude snort. “Didn't you get the memo? The bride's family is supposed to pay for the wedding, not me.”
Okay, he was pissing me off. “We had agreed to pay the bills together. You know damn well my mother can't afford it and neither can I.”
“That's not my problem. You called off the wedding, not me.”
“I wonder why the hell I did that!” I spat in the phone.
“Tiffany, I'll be by your job tomorrow.”
“Come by if you want and I'll tell everyone you have herpes. Get this in your head . . . you ain't getting shit back!” I slammed the phone down.
29
Noelle
“How's your searching going?”
It was lunchtime. Whitney and I were sitting at Giordano's and had just ordered a stuffed pizza with everything. For the past couple of days, it had been a zoo at the salon. Everybody wanted their hair, nails, and toes done for the Taste of Chicago. Vendors and performers from all over the country had booths set up all along Lake Shore Drive for two whole weeks. I stopped going to the event years ago. I've gotten too old for concerts and I hated crowds. However, Stevie Wonder was scheduled to perform over the weekend, so I was almost tempted to go.
“Nope, still haven't found Sierra's mother. Scott said he checked with all his chicksâhe could remember by nameâand no one admits to having his baby.”
Whitney gave me a sympathetic look. “Maybe she'll pop up.”
“At this point, I don't care if she ever shows up. I love my granddaughter. I just want to know who she is and why she left her. After that she can take her stupid behind on back to doing whatever she was doing before,” I began between sips. “It's the not knowing that scares me.”
“Why's that?”
I forget I have to have patience with Whitney because she's about to be a mother. She's spoiled and has been selfish all her life. My girl has a lot to learn about loving a little person who's a part of you. My blood ran through Sierra's veins, and that made her as much a part of me as Scott was. “Because at any moment that woman can pop on my doorstep and try to take Sierra back. Now that my granddaughter is with me, I can't see her not being a part of my life.”
“I didn't even think about that.” She wouldn't. Whitney knew nothing about giving birth to a child and being willing to die for your own flesh and blood if you had to. “But at least Grant's being supportive.”
At the mention of my husband's name, a smile curled my lips. By the time Grant had left for Korea, everything in our relationship was where it needed to be. We spent those last four days together, screwing like a couple of rabbits, and he also took the time getting to know his granddaughter. Whitney even babysat so we could have a night alone. Before he boarded that plane, Grant said he had no problem raising Sierra if we needed to.
“Yep, one thing I can say is I have a good man.”
“Yes, you do,” Whitney replied with a look of envy. I was starting to realize the whole deal about not wanting the man only the baby was a lie. Her baby's daddy, whoever he was, she wished he was willing to be a part of her and her baby's lives.
“I just wish Scott would take this situation seriously. He thinks it's a big joke as he tries to remember the names of his girls from one week to the next.”
“You're being hard on him. Maybe he really doesn't know whose baby it is.”
I shook my head. “Then that's sad. He needs to stop sleeping around so much.”
Whitney gave me a look like she wanted to say something, then thought better of it. She always said I babied her godson too much. This was one time I didn't need to hear, “I told you so.” She had been right all along. Scott was a spoiled brat, and it was time for him to start growing up and taking care of his responsibilities. I didn't have a problem raising Sierra, but you better believe I was going to make him start helping financially.
I finished eating a slice of pizza, then cleared my throat. “The reason why I asked you to lunch was because last night I remembered something. It probably doesn't have anything to do with Scott, but remember that girl who asked him to the Sadie Hawkins dance. The one he went with on a dare?”
She nodded. Whitney had been there that day she had come by the house to pick Scott up for their date with her camera in hand. The teenager was real skinny and nerdy looking, and I was embarrassed to say, I remembered thinking,
How in the world had she convinced Scott to go with her.
Later, he admitted she agreed to tutor him in College Algebra for the rest of the year, which I translated as, she agreed to do his homework because I don't remember her ever coming over to study.
“Sure I remember her. Real plain and wore thick glasses.”
“Right,” I said, nodding my head and getting excited as I spoke. “Well, I ran into her at the mall back in February and her stomach was sticking way out.”
Whitney's eyes grew large. “You don't think . . .”
I shrugged. “Hey, I'm just saying she was pregnant. I don't know who the daddy is, but I'm definitely going to find out. I'm just surprised I hadn't thought about her before.” I had added the dates in my head, and give or take a few weeks, I was right on the money.
Whitney frowned. “I seriously doubt Scott would have been interested in her.”
“Maybe. Maybe not. Do you remember her name?”
She shook her head. “Nope.” She said it so fast I had this feeling that Whitney was lying. But she wouldn't have any reason to, so I knew I was being overly paranoid about this whole thing.
“Well, trust and believe, I am definitely going to find out.”
“One thing I had always envied about you is your determination.” Whitney looked at me as if she was contemplating something, then suddenly held up her glass. “Here's to solving the mystery.”
“Here, here.” I tapped my glass against hers. I was going to find that girl one way or another. I just hope I could deal with the truth once it was staring me right in the face.
30
Tiffany
I headed over to gym feeling like one vindictive bitch. I don't necessarily believe in all that eye for an eye crap, but after what Kimbel did to me, my reasons were justified. As soon as I pulled into the parking lot, I drove around until I spotted his Jaguar that he always parked on an angle so it took up two parking spaces. He was such a vain bastard. I was just too stupid at the time to realize it.
Before I climbed out, I slipped on a Cardinal's baseball cap and dark sunglasses, and grabbed my gym bag like I had every intention of hitting the elliptical machine. The college student at the desk was too busy sending a text message to notice me walking by his desk, which was good because I didn't want anyone to know I had been here. I walked down toward the weight room, peeked inside, and spotted Kimbel on the leg press machine. Good. That gave me plenty of time to put my plan in action. He always worked on his legs first, then moved to arms and abs. I frowned at his back.
Asshole
. Yesterday, the Allerton Hotel slapped me with an $8,000 bill for a wedding reception that never happened. When I contacted Kimbel and begged him to cover the debt, and in exchange I would return his ring, he had the nerve to laugh in my face and tell me he wasn't paying for shit. Yeah, okay . . . in a few minutes we'll see who laughing.
In an oversize sweat suit and with my hair pushed under the cap, I walked down to the men's locker room, knocked twice, then stepped inside. Water was running, so someone was in the shower, which meant I needed to work fast. I scrambled toward the back and moved down through the rows of lockers until I spotted Kimbel's locker. I knew it was his because I had given him the blue combination lock. I had used it for years before buying another one and given him my old one. I gave it a twirl, remembering the combination by heart; I had it opened in no time. Sucker. Men can be so dumb. They're always trying to get over on someone, but forget that some women are just too smart for games. I reached inside his gym bag and removed his wallet, then snatched out both the Visa and Mastercard. Each had limits I could only imagine having. After a second of hesitation, I removed his debit card as well. Last month I was driving when Kimbel had me pull up to the ATM drive-thru and gave me his PIN number (4-5-8-1) because as he said, we were engaged and there were no secrets.
As I was returning the wallet, his cell phone vibrated. I couldn't help myself. I reached down deep in his bag and removed it. Tricia popped up on the screen. I stared down at it for a moment while I tried to calm my nerves, then stuck it in my pocket along with his credit cards. I was almost to the door when I heard someone coming. The shower had stopped and whoever was in the locker room was about to discover me if I didn't act fast. Quickly, I slid under a small table in the corner.
My heart was pounding like crazy. The door opened and a dude stepped in wrapped in a towel and moved to the locker in front of me. Damn! Now I was trapped until he dressed and left. When he dropped his towel, I forgot all about being trapped under a table. Everything they ever said about white boys was a lie. This one was hung and gorgeous. I watched him slap lotion on his body, then slip into a pair of boxer briefs that hugged his thighs. He was gorgeous and I was enjoying the show.
“What's happening, dude?”
I almost let out a scream when the door flung open and Kimbel stepped in. “You got it.”
“You playing ball with us this weekend?” he asked.
“Nah, man. I'm going to Georgia to do some recruiting, and taking this honey with me.”
White boy shook his head with envy written all over his face. “Man, I want to be like you when I grow up.”
“Yo, milk does a body good.” They gave each other dap, then shared a laugh.
He-he-hell . . . Kimbel thought his ass was funny. I guess he was taking Tricia with him. There was no telling how long he and the skank had been seeing each other. I sat there thinking about how long he'd been playing me until I was tempted to slide out from under the table and scratch his eyes out. The sexy white boy finished getting dressed then swung his bag over his shoulder and left. I waited until Kimbel grabbed his towel and headed to the shower before I climbed out from under the table. As soon as I heard water running and him singing off-key to Jodeci's “Forever My Lady,” I hurried over to his locker and took his clothesâdrawers and allâand stuffed them in my bag. Next, I switched his combination lock with the one in my bag. After taking a deep breath, I pulled my hat low over my eyes and headed toward the exit just as a lanky dude stepped through the doors. I jumped back in panic and waited to get busted. Thank goodness he was too busy wiping sweat from his eyes to notice.
“Hey, whassup.”
I mumbled “what's up” under my breath and hurried out to my car. I had bought myself some time by changing the lock. By the time Kimbel figured out what was going on, the deed would be done.
The second I got to Candace's, I got on the phone and, in a deep voice, paid all the wedding bills with Kimbel's debit card. Wasn't too much he could say since the bills were in both his and my name. And as far as the hotel was concerned, Kimbel had called, not me. I was laughing my ass off when my duffel bag vibrated. It took me a second to remember I had his cell phone.
First thing I did was listen to his voice mails, including the one's he saved, and got pissed off all over again. I was right. He was planning to spend the weekend with Tricia. We would have been married two weeks and already he was planning to step out on me. It took me a second to think of a plan before I decided to send her a text.
Before we spend the weekend together I need to be honest with you. I have herpes.
I hit Send and was cracking up laughing. I finally felt like I was getting even. Five minutes later, she texted back:
What the fuck???
Then Tricia started blowing up his phone. I let it go to voice mail. As soon as his phone indicated he had a new message, I couldn't resist listening:
You sorry muthafucka . . . Lose my number!
I was having so much fun I decided to share that important bit of information with everyone he had saved in his phone. He had a lot of numbers, so it took almost thirty minutes to reach everyone, especially since messages were coming in as fast as I was sending them. The comments were hilarious. After I was done, I pulled out his credit card, ordered six dozen roses, and sent them to Kimbel at his job. Then I ordered him some of those male enhancement pills and had them delivered to his job as well. I was having too much fun. After all, he was so self-centered, why shouldn't he spend his money on himself? I then went and filled my tank with gas, bought groceries, and stopped by his bank and withdrew $500 from the ATM. As far as I was concerned, it was for pain and suffering. I went to bed that night with a smile on my face.
The next morning, I was in the bathroom at the salon when Debra came banging on the door. “Tif, Kimbel's here!”
Oh shit! I almost peed on myself trying to hurry and get off the toilet. I washed my hands and made it out the room. The second Kimbel spotted me, he moved across the floor, practically foaming at the mouth.
“You stupid bitch! Why you do that shit?”
He was making a scene and had a large audience, but I acted like I hadn't noticed.
“Do what?” I tossed the paper towel in the trash and pretended I had no idea what he was talking about.
“Don't play dumb. You know what I'm talking about.”
“No, I don't, so enlighten me. Enlighten all of us what your
problem
is.” Might as well include the entire salon, because as loud as he was shouting, everyone was listening. “Or would you rather I tell everybody myself?”
Kimbel glanced nervously around the room. I dared him to mention his little problem to the crowd. “I didn't think so. I have no idea why you're here, so unless you're gonna tell me, I advise you to get the hell outta here. I've got work to do.”
“Tiffany, you a'ight?”Chauncey asked, as he moved over to my station mean-mugging Kimbel.
I smirked and signaled for my next client to take a seat. “I'm fine, Chauncey. Kimbel was just leaving.”
My ex-fiancé backed away toward the door. If looks could kill, I'd be one dead chick. “This isn't over,” he warned.
Kimbel better believe it wasn't over. Not until I said it was.