Unconditionally Single (22 page)

S
unrise began a new day, new adventures. A week later Jada and I were in Phoenix watching one of the best basketball games I’d ever seen. I’d brought Jada but she had all the connections in her presidency position of the Basketball Moms Association. We were in the best suite with Fancy, her mother Caroline, Caroline’s son, and Darius’s son. Watching the toddlers play made me want my own son, or daughter, but preferably a boy.

Fancy was gorgeous; she wore her self-assurance in the erect stance of her average-height stature. The rock on her finger, in comparison to the loose diamond I was prepared to give Jada, was gigantic. Fancy’s striking beauty and confidence reminded me of the late singer Aaliyah. Her mother, Caroline, was not equally attractive on the outside, but Caroline glowed from within.

Jada tapped my arm. “It’s rude to stare.”

“I wasn’t staring, I was lost in thought. Baby, this is fantastic!” I said, kissing her cheek to avoid messing up her lipstick again.

Jada seemed unimpressed by it all, but her eyes sparkled when they rested upon her son or her grandson. I wanted to know that feeling.

“Wellington has a son too,” she said. “Wellington the third. But his mother, Simone, refuses to let me see him.”

I wasn’t sure I’d heard her correctly. “Repeat that?”

She did and I began to believe all of our lives were complicated. The woman I had loved, Honey, was cloaked in layers of armor crowned with a tiara. I prayed Jada’s past wasn’t jaded like Honey’s. If things didn’t work out with Jada, I’d put my desire for marriage on hold.

Fancy held little Darius in her arms. “Look, baby. Daddy is MVP.”

The little boy clapped as though he understood. “Daddy!”

Jada was so cool, like this was the norm. For her, I guess it was. For me, it was all new.

“Daddy! Daddy!” Darius’s son shouted and kicked, reminding me of Ronnie. I prayed things were well with Red Velvet, that her acting career was going well. She deserved happiness. We all did.

“You ready?” I asked Jada, anxious to get to the airport for our trip to Fisher Island.

“In a minute. I have to hug and congratulate my son first. He’ll be disappointed if I don’t, and I never want to disappoint Darius.”

“Of course.”

Not having kids made me impervious to compassion for the little things that meant so much between mothers and sons. I reflected on my relationship with my mother. Would Jada always place her love for Darius ahead of her love for me? Would their relationship change ours? Would I be jealous of their bond? My first contact with Darius was disastrous. He made it clear that I was not to hurt his mother. What if his mother hurt me? I wasn’t ready to spoil his excitement of being MVP by standing in front of him.

“Take your time. I’ll meet you in the car.”

En route to the car, I wondered what was bothering Jada. She had been excited at the Grammys but suddenly she seemed sad. Maybe memories of Wellington consumed her. A half hour later, Jada arrived at the limo and we headed to PHX.

W
hisking Jada from Phoenix to Fisher Island, I was about to bust. Her dick massage was a good release but I hadn’t had sex since I was with Honey. I wanted my dick in Jada’s juicy blackberry on the beach tonight.

Sometimes a man wanted to be doggish with his woman. I wished I could throw Jada down on a blanket and fuck the shit out of her. Or drag her naked body into the ocean, put my dick inside her, and ride her hard. Jada seemed too reserved to fulfill my doggish side. I guess I could adjust but if I were with Honey, I could have it all. I hoped I didn’t have to fall asleep another night jacking off my dick.

“You good?” I asked her.

“Yeah, why wouldn’t I be?”

“You’re just so quiet.”

We arrived at Fisher Island Hotel and Resort. The driver removed our bags from the trunk. I tipped him. The valet placed our bags on a cart, then rolled the cart inside. I tipped him. Tipping the bellman, I said, “Baby, go get comfortable. I’ll be up shortly,” then handed Jada one of the room keys.

As soon as the elevator closed I went back to the check-in counter and asked, “Are my reservations and special accommodations in order?”

The hostess smiled. “Yes, Mr. Hill.”

The moonlight, warm night, and ocean breeze were so inviting. But the flight and the time difference between Los Angeles and Miami snatched three hours of our time, making it impossible for us to sit on the beach and watch the sunset.

I hurried to the room, slid the key, opened the door. My smile vanished. Jada sat in the living room, seemingly deep in thought. Sitting on the sofa beside her, I asked, “Baby, what’s wrong?” hoping her somber attitude wouldn’t ruin my night, our night. Nothing was worse than my going out of my way to please an unappreciative woman. Made that mistake with Honey. I would not do the same with Jada.

Our room was quiet until she said, “I know we agreed not to sweat the small stuff.”

“But…?”

Gazing at a blank television screen, she continued, “But I can’t erase that night you let me walk out your door with Honey sitting in your living room and you didn’t say a word to me.”

Here we go. Why couldn’t Jada have brought this up before we left her house?

“I know, baby. She caught me off guard. I didn’t know what to say.” I refused to speak Honey’s name, knowing that would make Jada feel worse.

Jada faced me, looked in my eyes. “Did you fuck her? Before you answer, let me say, I already know the answer.”

Unless she was a fly on my living room wall, and she wasn’t, Jada was not fooling me into believing she knew what happened that night. This was not the time for true confessions. I’d paid a violinist to play “The First Time Ever I Saw Your Face” during my proposal.

I took Jada’s hand, led her to the balcony. I had to have fresh air. And time to deceive this human lie detector beside me.

“Jada, the moment I sat next to you, I knew you were a special lady. The more time I shared with you, the more time I wanted to spend with you. I never planned on loving you. So much transpired in my life before I’d met you. It’s not always so simple to let go of a person you love. I don’t love Honey anymore,” I lied, then asked, “Haven’t you ever backtracked?” hoping she’d reveal her demons first.

“This isn’t about me,” she said, eyes focused on the darkness blanketing the ocean.

“Are you unwilling to forgive me if I did?”

“Yes.”

Is this a trick response?
I kept quiet.

Jada said, “I will forgive you only if you were smart enough to use protection,” she answered. “Because if you give me anything, you will regret it.”

A part of me was already regretting that this conversation was taking place. A small lie was a small sacrifice for a huge future. “Yes, we used protection.”

“Grant, I hope you’re telling the truth. I’ve had my heart broken before,” she said, a tear trickling down her face. “It’s so unnecessary to lie and break a person’s heart.”

I kissed her tears away.

Jada cried more. “I let my guard down with Wellington, believing nothing and no one could come between us. Melanie Marie Thompson. She was beautiful, like Honey. Foolish me, I trusted Wellington. Melanie moved in, fucked Wellington, said she was pregnant with triplets, and he married her.” Jada leaned against the patio window, slid down onto her knees, dropped her face in her hands and wept. “I don’t know what I’d do if you did the same to me.”

I motioned for the violinist. He stood in the sand below our balcony and started playing our song. I squatted in front of her. “Was the fact that Wellington did right by Melanie the reason why you let Wellington believe for twenty years that he was Darius’s father when he wasn’t?”

As delicately as I could, I had to let Jada know that she too had imperfections and was no saint. Her silence affirmed my implication.

I held both of her hands. “Jada Diamond Tanner, I, Grant Hill, promise to be your faithful husband. To forsake all others, to make love only to you, and to never have sex with another woman as long as we are one. I promise to never sweat the small stuff. I want to share my dreams, my goals, my life with you, never taking you for granted. And I promise you that divorce is not an option…if you, will you, Jada Diamond Tanner, marry me?”

Jada was quiet again. Patiently, impatiently, I waited for her answer. If she didn’t answer soon, could I rescind my proposal?

She asked, “Are you okay with not having children? I know how important that is to you.”

Honestly, no, I was not okay with not having children. I wanted to be a father and a husband. “Are you okay with adoption?”

“Yes, I am, and yes, Grant Hill, I will marry you.”

I expected her response to lead us into a deeper conversation. I’d figure it out later. I removed the diamond from my pocket, placed it in her hand.

“I want you to choose your setting.”

Jada smiled, hugged my neck.

I carried her into the bathroom, the Jacuzzi already filled with warm water, red and white rose petals. This time I washed her head to toe. I dried her off, carried her to the bed, kissed her feet. I kissed her ankles, her legs, rotated my tongue behind her knees. Sucked the inside of her thighs. Licked the crevices of her lips. Her chocolate delight detained me as I sucked her clit. I kissed her stomach, navel, breasts, nipples, underarms, collarbone, neck, ears, forehead, and nose.

While kissing Jada’s lips, I thought,
Today is the last day I’ll lie next to her stroking my own dick.
I slowly penetrated her.

Jada was dry as a box of shredded wheat.

F
atigued.

I’d learned Valentino was right. I wasn’t superwoman. My body had to knock me out, slow me down, and make me take care of me first. I was thankful Valentino had stayed with me two days ago, when Onyx left to go furniture shopping. I could’ve been in my office alone, passed out, and been brain-dead before anyone found me. I had stayed in the hospital overnight but I refused to lie on my back any longer, having nurses constantly draw blood, run test after test with no conclusive results. As cute as they may have thought I was, I was not their guinea pig.

I’d never been hospitalized, hadn’t been to a hospital since I’d last seen my sister alive. I had to get back to work and home, in that order. After I insisted I be released immediately, Valentino appeared, and it was only seven in the morning! He promised to take care of me and he did. Each time I pleaded to go to the office, he made me rest, saying, “After your follow-up appointment, if the doctor releases you to work, I’ll take you to your office. Not before.”

I was self-employed. The doctor couldn’t tell me when to work. But I fought a battle that Valentino wasn’t going to let me win.

My bedroom was my sanctuary. Quietly, I opened my patio door, went outside, sat on the deck. I’d almost forgotten about my Georgia peach trees. Red Velvet crossed my mind. I smiled. She had so much zest for life.

Zest. Other than Velvet, whom did I know who had zest? Not the women and girls I was helping. Not Valentino or Benito. Not Grant. Couldn’t say definitively about Jada but I doubted it. Not my mother or my father. Not my girls. Not me. I guess one either had it or didn’t. And if someone had it, how long would they keep it? And if they didn’t have zest, how could they genuinely acquire it?

Valentino was asleep in my bed. The early morning sunshine beamed so bright, I started squinting, looking at the leaves on my trees. Leaves, branches, fruit—interdependent. All relying on the roots to provide nutrients. Kind of like a human body needing us to make healthy choices to care for our bodies from the inside out. Unhealthy foods could deteriorate our organs, destroy our arteries. And unhealthy habits, behaviors, could be just as destructive.

My body had weathered many storms and faced another. Unaware of what my test results would reveal, I didn’t want to go to the doctor’s office this morning. I’d never taken a blood test before where I had to schedule an appointment for the results. Pap smears, had so many I could do my own.

Fear consumed me. What if, out of all the johns I’d fucked, one was infected? Condoms were mandatory but occasionally broke. What if Benito had contracted something and given it to me? What if Grant had an STD? I’d indirectly had sex with all the women my sex partners had fucked. Grant had fucked Red Velvet, Sapphire, probably Jada, and whomever else. I had no idea who Benito had sexed while we were together. I fucked Valentino once, not so long ago. If he had something, I could have it too.

My family history was a mystery. I didn’t know if my mother or father or their parents had diabetes, hypertension, or any forms of cancer. Soon I hoped I’d know what caused me to faint.

“Hey, what are you doing out here?” Valentino joined me on the patio, where I sat at the table. “You want coffee? Juice? Water?”

“I’m good, thanks.”

“How do you feel?”

“Nervous.” I inhaled fresh air, trying to exhale my worries, release them into the universe. Too concerned to pull out that chair in the corner of my mind and sit a spell. “Have you ever taken a blood test?”

He shook his head, became introverted for a moment, then said, “I need to but if they told me something I wasn’t ready to hear, that shit would fuck a nigga up.”

“That’s how I feel.”

Valentino extended his hand. “Come here.”

I repositioned myself to his lap. His arms embraced my waist.

I laughed, then said, “I’m more afraid of these results than I was when you kidnapped me. I could’ve shot and killed you. But if I have an incurable or life-threatening disease, it’s not that simple.”

“Lace, I’ll be there for you no matter what,” he said. “I promise you.”

“Sounds good. Easy to say now.”

Valentino slapped my ass. “Go get ready for your appointment.”

I cried in the shower. Called myself a big baby. What was I really crying for? Losing Grant? Not loving my parents? How nice Valentino was to me? I brushed my teeth, stared at my naked self in the mirror. I was the picture of what men considered gorgeous. But my exterior was a shell. What if I had breast cancer and had to have a mastectomy? What if I lost my long luscious golden hair to chemo? I put on a pair of emerald slacks—green was the color of faith. A long sleeve blouse in pink, which represented grace and elegance. And my pink and green sling-back shoes.

I peeped my head out the patio window. Valentino was dressed in earth green pants and a matching short-sleeved collared shirt. “I’m ready,” I said, dialing on my cell.

Onyx answered, “Hey, how are you feeling?”

“Nervous. We’re headed to my appointment. We’ll meet you at the office.”

“It’ll be okay. We’re handling all of the clients. Take care of yourself now. We need you,” she said.

“Thanks,” I said, ending the call.

“I’m driving,” Valentino said, following me to the driveway.

“I can drive. I’m not handicapped.” Starting the car, I asked him, “When is Benito coming back?”

“That nigga got back with Tyra; she put it on him. He’s stuck. No telling when that nigga will leave her house. Women are weak! That nigga was MIA damn near all his son’s life, then walked back into her life and she let him stay there?” Valentino shook his head.

“Benito is annoying but he is a good person. And he’s smarter than most people assume,” I said in his defense. Parking in the hospital’s garage, I silently prayed for courage.