“And I always will be.”
Chapter Three
Naomi parked her car in front of Racquel’s home. A heavy sigh passed through her lips as she reached over and grabbed her purse after releasing the seatbelt. Opening the car door, Naomi stepped out, closing the door behind her. Rounding the front of the car, Naomi meandered up the long walkway to the front door. She rang the bell and waited for Racquel to respond.
“Coming,” Racquel called as she moved towards the door.
Although she expected her friend, Racquel lifted onto her tiptoes and peeped through the peephole, confirming it was who she expected.
“Hey girl,” Racquel said as she opened the door. Whatever was wrong was written all over Naomi’s face. Her usually perfect posture slumped under the weight of whatever was on her heart. Naomi could barely look Racquel in the eyes. If she did, Naomi knew she would start crying.
“Come on in.”
Naomi stepped across the threshold and into their lavish home. She’d been there a few times before and knew the tradition of removing her shoes at the door. Sitting her purse on the hallway table, Naomi bent down, peeling each tennis shoe from her heel, and then setting them out of the way of the door before following Racquel inside.
“Wine?” Racquel asked.
“Do you have anything stronger?”
“That bad, huh?”
“That bad, Naomi said, flopping down onto the couch in the family room.
“Let me see what I can do.”
As Racquel padded out of the room, Naomi laid her head back on the cushioned couch. Her head was still spinning from everything that had gone on with her mother. What was just about as bad was her parents' collective disregard for the seriousness of the situation. It was serious, but they continued to trivialize it like it was nothing. Naomi heard Racquel return to the room. When she looked up, a slight smile creased the corners of her lips.
“Yes! That will work.”
“I’m glad because if not this, then I don’t know what we was gone be drinking, girl.
Racquel set the tray, holding tequila, lime, salt, and two shot glasses down on the coffee table.
Naomi scooted to the edge of the sofa, picking up the bottle and pouring the clear liquid into both glasses. She didn’t wait for Racquel; instead, picking up the saltshaker, lightly licking the back of her hand and taking a lime. She completed the trinity and threw the shot back. Immediately after the glass was empty, Naomi filled it again. She took the shot straight to the head as quickly as the last.
“Ugh,” she groaned as the warm, intoxicating liquid coated the back of her throat and burned as it dropped into her belly. She didn’t begrudge the pain, though. Naomi was ready to fully feel the intoxicant. It would help her tell the story she needed to tell the way she needed to tell it. But she didn’t have enough liquid courage to start, so she reached for the bottle again.
“Uh, no ma’am,” Rocky countered, pulling the bottle out of Naomi’s reach.
“No more drinking until you start talking, Na,” Racquel huffed. “I’ve never seen you like this before so, tell me what’s the matter. Is it Tareef?”
“Uh, no,” Naomi huffed, rolling her eyes. “It’s not Tareef. He is not my man, so he is not my problem. Whatever is between us doesn’t even rise to the level of being able to be a damn problem.”
Racquel heard the disappointment. She knew how much Naomi liked Tareef. But whatever was bothering her was bigger than him. The conversation about a man would have to wait for another time.
“So, if it’s not him, then what is it, Naomi?”
She didn’t look in Racquel’s direction and even deliberated whether she should say anything at all. But Naomi’s heart was so heavy, and she was exacerbated with her family. She needed to be able to talk to someone about it, someone she trusted completely.
“Something I’ve never told you about, well, not fully anyway,” Naomi admitted.
Racquel’s brow furrowed, and her eyes narrowed. “Well, hell, now I need a drink.”
She reached for the bottle and poured a shot. She went through the motions of the salt and lime before putting the half-filled glass to her mouth and downing the contents. Rocky grimaced as the warm libation moved through her. When she saw Naomi eying the bottle, Racquel repositioned it totally out of Naomi’s reach.
“Talk to me, Naomi. What’s going on,” Racquel encouraged.
Part of Naomi’s hesitation is that she wanted to diminish the esteem Rocky held for her parents. They’d been a part of each other’s lives since they were young, and when Racquel’s mother disappeared from her life, Naomi’s mom was there at those critical junctures. Ruby was like a surrogate mother to Rocky, and she loved Ruby. She knew Naomi’s mom to be happy go lucky, rarely, if ever in a foul mood, willing to answer all Rocky’s questions and just be there to listen when Racquel needed a maternal ear. Her father filled in the gap when Mr. Alexander was busy trying to build a life for him and his daughter. Never the substitute, but another adult male Rocky could count on. And once Racquel’s father passed away, Naomi’s dad was all the dad she knew. He was there for her. Telling Racquel the truth could ruin all of that.
Racquel tried to wait patiently for Naomi to answer, but from her profile, Rocky could see that whatever she needed to say it was difficult. Racquel lifted her hand and placed it consolingly on Naomi’s shoulder.
“Just talk to me, Na. You know this is a judgment-free zone. There’s nothing you could tell me that would cause me to stop loving you.”
“I believe that,” Naomi said, returning her gaze to Racquel. “But it may change the way you see my family.”
“What do you mean, Na? I love your family like my own.”
“I know that, Rock,” Naomi sighed. “That’s what makes this so hard. But I feel like if I don’t share this with somebody, I don’t know, I’ll explode, or something.”
“Listen, you know I’m not temperamental. Whatever you tell me, it stays between you and me.”
“Even with your new husband?”
Racquel’s eyes narrowed more, and her brow wrinkled more than that.
“Come on, Naomi. You know that’s not fair.”
“But it is a consideration, Rocky.”
“Hey, you and me, we are for life.”
Naomi felt it as much as she heard it.
“My mom is not what she appears to be,” Naomi began. The words were hard to say, but they needed to be said.
“What the hell does that mean?” The confused look on Rocky’s face remained.
“You remember my mother as pretty happy all the time, right?” Naomi questioned.
“Sure,” Racquel commented. “She was a regular ray of sunshine.”
“It was temporary when she was in a manic phase,” Naomi replied. “What you didn’t see was the other end of the spectrum, when she was so down and depressed, she wanted to die.”
“What?”
“Yeah, Rocky, there were times when my mother tried to commit suicide when things got so dark for her, she didn’t want to live.” Naomi paused, then continued. “And then the pendulum would swing the other way, and she’d be Susie Sunshine again. Now when I think about it, I don’t know what my mother is like for real. She seemed to swing between two extremes. When she took her medication, it brought her to the middle, I guess, but that still wasn’t normal. That was my mother medicated.”
“I don’t mean to sound ignorant right now, Naomi, but I am so confused.”
“The whole situation is confusing, especially for a kid,” Naomi sighed.
“Is your mom sick or something?”
“You could say that,” Naomi answered. “Mom’s bipolar. That’s what her mental illness is called Bipolar Disorder.”
“Wait. What? Your mom’s mentally ill?”
“Yep,” Naomi quipped as she lifted herself from the couch, teetering slightly on her feet. “She has been my whole life,” Naomi continued as she started to pace the floor. “And this morning, s
he was standing on the edge of our roof, damn near about to fall off, talking about her, and Jesus was having a conversation.”
Naomi continued to pace as she felt the anger and frustration return full on.
“And my dad. UGH!! He is so aggravating to my soul, always making excuses, and making it okay for her not to do what she’s supposed to and then trying to make me feel bad for insisting that she do right. Take her meds like she’s supposed to, so I don’t have to risk my damn life trying to get her off the fuckin roof!”
It took a moment for what Naomi said to start to sink in.
“What about Kyle, Natalie?”
“What about them? Natalie won’t come around because she’s scared. She’ll be next to inherit mom’s condition. It’s generational, you know, and since I didn’t get it, Natalie is convinced she’s gonna go crazy,” Naomi fussed. “Kyle is like dad. Coddling mom through all her craziness. Useless.”
Racquel watched Naomi take a few steps, spin on her heels, and retake the same steps repeatedly. What she was saying sounded insane, but Naomi was never one for the misdirect.
“Why didn’t you tell me before, Naomi?”
She stopped pacing. “Why? Because who wants to tell their best friend that their mother is technically insane and has to take medication every single day to be kind of regular, not totally regular because I have no idea what my mom’s regular is, but who wants to share their crazy parent on career day, or with the best friend who doesn’t have a mom at all so talking bad about your own may sound, I don’t know, selfish, or some shit like that.”
Chapter Four
Tareef and Ameer were already at their favorite sports bar when older brother Khalid walked in.
“Wassup, bro,” Tareef said, standing up. Ameer stood up to acknowledge his brother as well. They exchanged their fraternal handshake and greeted each other before sitting down.
“I see you couldn’t wait for me to get here to order up,” Khalid jabbed as he sat down. Of course, the Ali brothers had the best set in the establishment with four sixty-inch television screens straight ahead. Their view was unencumbered as they sat on the raised level of the restaurant.
“We ordered the wings you always order even when you take ten minutes to look at the menu,” Tareef commented. “And the waitress is already headed this way to take your drink order.”
“Besides, we didn’t know if you would make it,” Ameer replied. “We haven’t seen much of you lately.”
“Still honeymooning, bruh,” Tareef trilled. “They still honeymooning.”
Khalid couldn’t deny it. He and Racquel had been on a whirlwind, getting to know each other even more, loving each other in the morning and late into the midnight hour. It had been fantastic and exceeded every expectation of what marrying your soulmate could be. And Racquel was his soul mate.
“Damn Khalid, she got you all dreamy-eyed even in here,” Ameer teased.
“Sounds like hater speech, bro,” Khalid countered.
“Not at all,” Ameer laughed.
“Come to think about it, Ameer, you and I are the only single Ali men left,” Tareef observed.
“So true,” Ameer replied.
“But you won’t be on the single list long, will you, Tareef?” Khalid asked.
“I have no idea what you mean,” Tareef rebuffed, resting his back on the spine of the chair.
“Naomi,” Khalid commented.
“Rocky’s best friend? Ameer asked.
“That’s the one,” Khalid replied.
“Nah,” Tareef sighed. “Naomi’s cool. She’s good people but,”
“But what?” Ameer asked, taking a sip of the import beer he was drinking.
“Yeah, but what?” Khalid echoed.
“I don’t want to say anything negative about your wife’s best friend in front of you, K.”
“What do you mean?”
“Pillow talk, bro,” Tareef replied. “Don’t married couples share everything? And even when they don’t intend to share, some stuff comes up in the afterglow? Pillow talk,” Tareef explained.
“I shouldn’t have to explain this to you, but since it is apparently unclear, I will,” Khalid began. “You are my brother, first and foremost. You are my frat, secondly. I love my wife, and we do share everything, but only things that concern us. Your thoughts on Naomi are your thoughts on Naomi. That’s not for me to share with anyone.”
“I trust you, bro, for life. And that’s on everything,” Tareef replied.
“So, what’s wrong with Naomi,” Ameer asked.
“It’s not that there’s anything really wrong with her. She’s a beautiful woman, ambitious, interesting.”
“But?” Khalid asked.
“That but is loud and clear, bro,” Ameer seconded.
Their conversation was momentarily interrupted by the waitress bringing over more food and another round of drinks.
“Will there be anything else, gentlemen?” She had a glint in her eye and a lilt in her voice. Her eye lazily dragged from one Ali brother to the other and back again. The smile the waitress flashed and the way she pushed out her already ample bosom said she liked what she saw.
“We’re fine,” Ameer replied. “Thanks, beautiful.”
That was all she needed to hear. Not that they were fine, she already sized them up and assessed that for herself. The fact that one of the brothers called her beautiful made her smile beam even brighter. Her face lit up, and the sway in her walk as she left the table was sassier than it had been upon revival.
“That’s what’s wrong with Naomi,” Tareef sighed.
“What? That she openly likes you?” Ameer challenged.
“It’s not that I don’t appreciate her liking me. I mean, that’s important. But I don’t like to be chased.”
Both brothers looked at Tareef and nodded their heads. They understood. He didn’t need to say anything more. Tareef, like all the Ali men, were true Alpha men, not just fraternally but innately. They were conquerors, hunters, dominants. They wanted to chase, not be chased. It was a turnoff; despite what positive characteristics or traits the woman may have. And Naomi had wonderful traits. But that was Tareef’s struggle with Naomi. Although he had enjoyed the time they spent together, her attraction to him was too obvious. She was too direct. She made her desires too known. He wasn’t flattered by it, and because Tareef wasn’t the kind of man to take advantage of a woman’s apparent desires, he withdrew from her instead of manipulating her interest, because that’s what a real man does.
“Have you talked to her about it?” Khalid asked, wiping the corners of his mouth after tasting the wings.
“What am I going to say?” Tareef questioned. “Like hey, could you ease up a little and let me call you first or ask you out or lean in to kiss you instead of the other way around?”
“Yeah,” Ameer commented.
“It’s just easier to pull back,” Tareef said. “Maybe she’ll get the message.”
“Or she won’t and think there’s something wrong with her as to why her feelings aren’t reciprocated,” Khalid added.
“I hear you, bro,” Tareef replied. “But our relationship hasn’t risen to the level where that’s my responsibility, you know?”
“I hear you,” Ameer agreed.
“Can’t argue with you there,” Khalid said. “But take it from a man who has a bit more experience, withdrawal equals self-examination on her end, and if she doesn’t know the reason, she’ll own all of it.”
“You don’t want to do that to her, bro,” Ameer suggested.
He didn’t. Even though he understood it intellectually, that how she perceived his response was not wholly his responsibility, he cared enough for Naomi as a person, as a good person, to not want her shouldering a burden that wasn’t hers to carry. He would give it some thought, how to handle the situation going forward. They hadn’t talked in a few days because Tareef wanted to distance himself, not foster false expectations of their connection. Maybe he would reach out to her
just to get a pulse on the situation.
“I mean, you can call her right now,” Khalid replied. “She’s at my house.”
Tareef checked out the smug look on his brothers’ face. It wasn’t undeserved. They pulled punches with each other all the time, all the brothers did. It was Khalid’s turn to get a dig in.
“I’ll pass,” Tareef quipped, rejecting Khalid’s offer outright. “I’ll handle it privately.”
Naomi continued to pace, but she fell silent. She had so many feelings roaring inside her; she didn’t know what else to say without the anger and helplessness that rose above everything else spill out uncontrollably. And at the base of it, that’s how Naomi felt, completely and utterly helpless to do anything about the situation. But it was hard, even for Naomi to get to the root of it because her anger was so persistent.
“Naomi, I don’t know what to say,” Racquel sighed. It was so much to take in, so much she missed or misidentified before. Hearing it now, some of it made sense, but other parts she still grappled with. And if she was feeling that way, Racquel could only imagine what Naomi was feeling; what she’d been dealing with her entire life.
“And I feel guilty,” Naomi started as she returned to the couch, sitting down hard.
“About what?” Racquel asked, inclining her body towards Naomi.
Naomi eyed the bottle of tequila sitting too far out of reach. If she had gotten a buzz from the intoxicant, it wasn’t enough, or it had already worn off. Instead of reaching around Racquel to try and get the bottle, Naomi stood to her feet, walked a few paces, and grabbed the bottle before Racquel could protest. Rocky threw up her hands in surrender. She wouldn’t protest. She could see why Naomi was drinking more than usual. Racquel was her best friend, though. She would let her drink some but not too much. Naomi was surprised at Racquel’s lack of intervention, but she would take it. Filling up the glass, Naomi didn’t bother with limes and salt. She took the shot straight, no chaser.
Naomi returned to the couch before speaking. She felt an immediate rush from the drink.
Tareef (The Brothers Ali Book 4) Page 3