The Hearts We Burn
Page 5
“Soup is good, isn’t it?” Mama Davis said after a few sips.
Honestly, I hadn’t tasted the liquid easing down my throat. My mind was everywhere but here. But I nodded just the same.
“How are you feeling?” I asked.
Mama Davis looked at me, her eyes almost boring into my soul. I shifted uncomfortably under her stare.
“I should be asking you that same question,” she said.
“I’m hanging in there,” I admitted.
She nodded. “Same here,” she said and reached across the table to pat my hand. I felt there was something else in the gesture, something she wasn’t telling me, but I knew long ago not to push Mama Davis. She opened up when she felt like it. And if she didn’t, well that was just something you dealt with. She had always been so giving of herself, so concerned with others, that she once admitted to me she didn’t feel comfortable opening up about herself.
We continued eating in silence, our spoons clinking against the tableware as we polished off the soup. I hadn’t, and still couldn’t bring myself to mention anything to her about Keon. As far as she was concerned, we were still going strong, our family’s ordeal only bringing us closer and deepening our love and support. Mama Davis was dealing with so much, with death after death, trauma after trauma, that I couldn’t bear to add to her plate of disaster. Sure, Keon and I were severely estranged, but Mama Davis was only but so strong. One more tragedy and she was liable to break completely.
“Detective Terry came by to see me,” Mama Davis broke the silence.
My head whipped up, my eyebrows lifted in hopefulness. “When? What did she say?”
“Couple days ago.” She sighed. “She came to tell me they closed the investigation about the fire. A gas fire, they said. No signs of arson or anything other than a simple accident.”
I swallowed, trying to digest the information. It had been my idea to call the police after Kimmy and Jamal’s death. Something just didn’t sit well with me regarding the circumstances. Leo and Tyree had taken her from that storage room where we had been held captive. Now suddenly, their bodies were found? Where were Leo and Tyree?
“Did she say anything else?” I asked.
Mama Davis shook her head. “What else is there to say, Sweetie?” she said. “It happened. Unfortunate yes, but I’m not one to question God. We grieve, we move on.” Her eyes were pointed as she stared at me once more. It was clear her words were more directed at me than herself. Oh, how I wish it were that easy.
I didn’t say anything but I told myself I would have a little chitchat with Detective Terry myself. There had to be something more there. Too many coincidences. Too many unanswered questions. And shit wasn’t lining up. I couldn’t help but feel like Leo and Tyree had something to do with these deaths. And if they did, their asses needed to be found. But if the police wouldn’t do it, well then, I would have to handle it myself.
By the time I pulled into the driveway, I still hadn’t settled on a story for Keon. To my horror, and relief I had to admit, I wouldn’t have to worry about it for the time being. CeeCee was leaving out my front door, making her way to the truck parked against our curb. If she was over there, that could only mean one thing: Jahmad was there too. Which would give me a little more reprieve for now, because if Keon was hanging out with his best friend, then he wouldn’t have time to be bothered with me.
I had to admit, it was weird seeing these two coming around more. Kimera had been so deeply in love with Jahmad, and obviously, he with her, because despite his fiancée CeeCee, he and Kimmy had carried on a full-blown affair before he eventually called off his engagement. Now how mighty convenient for this chick to pop back up in his life when he and Kimmy started having problems, namely over the question of Jamal’s paternity. So when it became known that Jahmad wasn’t Jamal’s father, as Kimera had assured him before, he was gone and right back in CeeCee’s waiting arms.
And the shit had pissed me off . . .
“I just don’t understand how you can still be friends with that dog ass nigga,” I yelled, pacing so hard in our bedroom that it was a wonder I hadn’t walked a hole in the carpet. Keon didn’t seem fazed by the outburst as he continued tying his basketball sneakers.
“That’s my boy,” he said, as if I needed to be reminded. “Me and Jay go back since middle school. I don’t even see how it is a question. Or how it’s any concern to you who I’m hanging with.”
I whirled on him, my anger ignited by his nonchalance. “Don’t see how?” I snapped. “Oh, do we forget that Kimera was my best friend? How Jamal was my godson and nephew, how ‘your boy’ was so quick to betray them both by jumping back in CeeCee’s bed before trying to make it work with his family? That’s the type of influence you want to be around? You don’t see nothing wrong with that?”
I saw Keon’s jaw tighten, evidence that I was crossing the line with my words. But I didn’t give a damn. If he didn’t want to see the truth, I was sure as hell going to show it to him.
“First, we ain’t gone talk about my sister like she was some angel,” he said, his voice low. “Now I love her, and I hate what happened. Shit is messed up but we all make mistakes. Kimmy included. Now it’s not my place to speak into Jay’s relationship, just like it ain’t his place to speak into mine. How would you feel if he was in my ear trying to convince me to divorce you?”
“Then you would be a damn fool,” I shot back with no hesitation. “I’ve been right there for you even when you were doing me dirty. I’m not in the wrong about anything.”
Now, Keon’s eyes lifted and he stared at me long and hard to the point I had to replay my own words. “And I guess I’m in the wrong about something, Dria?”
I opened my mouth, shut it again. “I’m not saying that,” I backpedaled, a little calmer. “I’m saying that Jahmad would have no reason to be in your ear about anything having to deal with me. He has no right.”
“And neither do you.”
“Kimmy was my friend!”
“And she was my sister,” he yelled back, finally climbing to his feet. “What makes you think you loved her any more than I did, huh? You lost in-laws. I lost family, Adria. Shit doesn’t even compare.”
That stung. I closed my eyes against the threat of tears. “They were my family, too, Keon,” I said, swallowing against the lump in my throat.
His back was to me now and when I saw his shoulders slump, it took everything in me not to run forward and cradle him in my arms. “We are all grieving, Adria,” he said, his voice lower. “Jahmad included. He loved Kimmy, and he loved Jamal as if he were his own. You can’t tell someone how to grieve or how to find peace in all this turmoil. Just like you can’t tell anyone your grief is more than theirs. Because you just don’t know what everyone else is going through Adria. That’s what I mean by you have no right.” He turned then and his next few words stunned me to silence. “And no, he can’t be there for the child he lost. But the least he can do is be there for the one he’s got coming.”
When CeeCee turned, I narrowed my eyes at the hint of a belly protruding underneath the flowy maxi dress she wore. Apparently, she had been all too eager to take Jahmad back and seal the deal with him now that Kimmy wasn’t around to stop them. It hurt like hell too. She was clearly happy and glowing with this pregnancy, just as I had been only a few months ago myself. But now, my twins were gone and here she was with the life I had been robbed off. Life was a bitch for sure.
I would have continued driving down the street and waited until she left but not realizing she was there, I had pressed the garage door opener too fast. Now, she turned and locked eyes with me through the windshield and I had no choice but to turn into my house and face her. She even had the nerve to offer me a pleasant smile, which sickened me even more.
I turned into the driveway and pulled up into the garage. It probably would have been rude to close the door while she patiently stood there so instead, I dipped my head, pretending to search for something in my purse.
CeeCee’s smile was still in place, small but genuine. “Hey Adria,” she greeted.
“Hey.”
“I didn’t mean to bother you. Just wanted to speak before I left.”
I nodded. “What are you doing here?”
“Just dropping Jahmad off. His car is in the shop and I think he said he and Keon were going to run out for a bit.”
I nodded again. Good, good. More time to myself. More time to think. To take some medicine. To cry and grieve and wallow in my own despair.
CeeCee flinched a bit and her hand went to her stomach. As much as I didn’t want to, I felt obligated to ask. “Everything okay with the baby?”
Her smile was one of surprise as it brightened her face. “Yeah, I’ve just been having some cramps that’s all. Doctor says it’s normal. Thanks,” she added after another awkward moment of silence. “For asking I mean. I appreciate it.”
I nodded again, silently wishing she would hurry this up.
“I wanted to also tell you,” she went on. “that if you needed anything, to please give me a call. I’m not Kimera, I’m not trying to be. And I know you probably don’t care for me, I get that.” She sighed as if her next thought was taking all of her strength to speak. “I just . . . know what you’re going through. I’ve had four miscarriages myself. That’s why I’m a little afraid with this one. But I don’t want Jahmad to be concerned so I just keep my fears to myself.”
For a moment, I almost felt sorry for her. Damn, four? I couldn’t imagine dealing with this tangle of emotions four times over. How was the girl still sane? I was at a loss for words.
“Thank you,” I murmured finally.
That was obviously enough, and CeeCee gave a little wave before returning to her car. I watched her in the side view mirror until she backed out of the driveway and disappeared down the street. Keon was right. You never knew what other folks were going through, that’s for sure.
I caught snatches of Jahmad and Keon’s conversation as I entered the house through the garage. The moment I heard my name, Kimera’s name, and some other choice words describing their mutual feelings and trying to get through this whole ordeal, I just let them have their moment. Besides, after the little encounter with CeeCee, I just needed my own relief.
So instead of going through the living room and having to see them, I headed to the kitchen and took the back stairs that led to the master bedroom.
The first room outside of ours was the nursery, still decorated as if the girls occupied the room even now. We had painted the walls gray and pastel pink with little elephants and sheep. Twin cribs sat on either side of the room with matching bedding. Over their beds, their names were spelled out with white letters. I had done those letters myself, taking the time to paint each one with loving strokes. By the time I had added the gemstone embellishments, I had been so proud of myself I had actually cried. Those damn hormones, I swear. But what I would give to have those moments back. It hurt to go in the room, seeing their beds, toys, and baby things completely untouched, tags still attached, signaling everything would remain showroom new. Like some kind of museum or shrine, it felt like. But it hurt just as much to not go in.
Part of me thought that maybe we could just try again. Have another baby and all of our problems would be solved. I had even attempted to on several occasions, desperate for anything to fill this void.
I opened the bathroom door and glanced at my husband, lying asleep in the bed. Without hesitation, I slid between the tan sheets. My wet body dampened the silky fabric as I shifted closer to Keon, sliding my arm around his waist. “Baby,” I whispered, pressing my breasts on his back just like I knew he liked. I flicked my tongue across his earlobe and felt him stir underneath me, his body humming to life. “Sweetie. Wake up.” Keon was fully awake then, and he sat up, his face reflecting clear frustration.
“Adria, what the hell are you doing?” he said getting out of the bed. I only watched him in disbelief as he went on. “And why the hell are you wet? Damn, Girl, you play too much.”
I sat up in the bed, almost feeling guilty. “I’m sorry Key, I just wanted to try again, you know. The doctor said—”
“Damn what the doctor said Adria.” He was still seething as he rose and made his way across the room. “You can’t just up and get pregnant and think it’ll replace our daughters. That’s not how this shit works.”
“I’m not trying to replace them,” I said, swallowing tears. “We could never replace our babies. But we can try to move on. Pick up the pieces of our lives. What’s wrong with that? You want a child just as much as I do.”
Keon leaned on the dresser and shook his head. He released a frustrated breath. “That’s not how we’re going to heal. Trying to hide our pain under sex, hoping and praying we have another kid. Shit sucks, it hurts, I know. But if that’s your motivation for wanting to have another, you’re going about this the wrong way.”
I stood up then, folding my arms against the cold air. I waited for Keon to grab my robe from the closet. When he made no move, I sighed and walked past him to retrieve it myself. “I’m too old for this, Adria,” he went on as I belted the robe.
“You’re acting like you have to go through this on your own Keon. It’s not like I’m as young as I used to be. I’m hurt and grieving and want to fix this, fix us. It’s like we’re wasting time.” As soon as the words dripped from my lips, I regretted it. Keon’s face frowned in controlled anger and he stared at me for a few seconds without speaking.
“Fuck you, Adria.” He spoke a little above a whisper now. “Since me grieving my daughters is wasting your precious time.”
“I didn’t mean it like that,” I defended, watching him snatch the comforter and a pillow off our bed. “I meant it like our time could be running out. Pretty soon, we may not want kids anymore. Or we may not have time. Or—”
“We may not even be together.” Keon tossed the cover over his arm and headed for the door. “You’re right. Our time is running the fuck out.” He slammed the bedroom door shut behind him.
I sat in the rocker next to the changing table and finally pulled out the Ziploc bag Barlow had given me. Without thinking, I pulled three from the bag and popped them in my mouth, dry-swallowing them in one gulp. I laid my head back and closed my eyes, letting the tears fall as that familiar feeling of calmness washed over me. It seemed now it took longer and longer to achieve this feeling, and that euphoria didn’t last as long as it used to. Maybe I needed something stronger. But for now, no matter how temporary, at least it was something.
Chapter 4
Kimera
“Mommy,” the voice squealed in delight. I opened my eyes as Leo Jr. threw his little body in my lap, giggling as if his little adventure was the funniest thing ever. His carefree spirit brought a smile to my face and, much to his amusement, I hoisted him onto the lounge chair with me and enveloped him in a bear hug.
“Kissy face,” he demanded cupping my cheeks in his tiny palms.
“Kissy face,” I echoed, pretending to consider the offer. “Are you sure?”
“Yes!”
“Are you really, really sure?”
“Please.”
Because I knew the type of kiss he was requesting, I planted my lips on his fat cheek and blew a raspberry against his skin. His laughter was infectious and I couldn’t help but chuckle myself. This little boy definitely brightened my days.
I had to admit, at first it was strange taking on the role of Leo Jr.’s mother. But my heart ached for the poor child. His biological mom, Lena, had died during childbirth; well, she was murdered if we wanted to get technical. Then there was Leo’s main, conniving wife Tina, who hadn’t been much of a mother to him at all. And Leo was so busy keeping his eyes on me and his body on Tyree, he didn’t have time to step into the father role like he should have. But his apathy could be at
tributed to the fact that he wasn’t biologically Leo Jr.’s father. So where did that leave the baby? Hell, I was pretty much all he had. Me and Jamal.
At first, I felt compelled to correct Leo Jr. when he tried to call me Mommy. But what if one day he got up enough courage to ask me if I wasn’t his Mommy, then where was she? But he was nearly two, too young for the truth. It was easier on all of us if he just called me Mommy since that’s how he saw me. And that’s all I had been to him. No matter how false the reality, the perception was there.
“I’m sorry, Señora.” The nanny, Lupé, walked up balancing Jamal on her hip. She looked tired and completely out of breath as she struggled to communicate her exhaustion through her thick accent. I didn’t blame her. These two little ones were certainly a handful. “I turned my back for five minutes and he was gone.”
I grinned, nodding my understanding. “You can leave them here with me,” I offered. “I was just taking a nap but I’m up now.”
“No, it’s okay.” Lupé gingerly took Leo Jr.’s hand and helped him to his feet. “Señor Owusu insisted I bring them inside and get them ready for bed. He says I shouldn’t disturb you because he wants to talk to you later.”
I frowned, not liking the sound of that.
Lupé turned to leave, then suddenly remembering something turned around to face me again. “Oh, please make a shopping list for me, Señora,” she said. “I have to go to the store tomorrow since Señor Fernando is out sick.”
I nodded and watched her head to the French patio doors with my boys. When she had gone inside, I leaned back against the pool chair once more. I felt Kareem’s eyes on me and knew he was just a few feet away, sitting under the umbrella table with sunglasses shielding his eyes. He had been like that since I’d come out to the pool an hour ago and frankly, his brazen surveillance, or stalking as I liked to put it, was pissing me off more and more.