by Tina Martin
“You’re talking crazy. Hush.”
“I’m not talking crazy. It’s the truth.”
He looks conflicted. I thought he was joking at first, but now I see he’s really bothered.
I say, “What’s wrong, Cain?”
“Nothing. Just—come here.”
He adjusts his body so his head is resting on a pillow, then he pulls me into his arms. I rest my head on his chest, listening to the fast rhythms of his heartbeat.
“Get some sleep, sweetie.”
“I will now that you’re here.” I rest on the firm pillow of his chest. I’m as relaxed as I’ve ever been. This is home for me. In my mind, in my heart, I can no longer deny how this man makes me feel.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Ahmalee
Two Weeks Later
Cain has officially been with me for over a month and I’m completely spoiled. He’s the man around the house. He does anything on my to-do list and other things he just picks up and decides to do on his own accord. We’ve crammed so much in these last two weeks. I finally got around to making the pot roast. He enjoyed every bite. We played more cards. I showed him how to dance a basic two-step since he claimed he didn’t know how to dance. I didn’t believe him. Still don’t. I think he just wanted to dance with me.
More summer storms came. Two of them. Of course, he was there with me at my request. A shoulder massage later and I was out. Both times he did this. He hasn’t tried to kiss me since that night, two weeks ago, when he told me I was too good for a man like him – whatever that meant. I took it to mean since he wasn’t where he needed to be in life, there was no need for me to like him in a romantic way. I can’t say for sure. I never got an explanation. He didn’t bring it up again and neither did I. I’m solely enjoying his friendship at this point – like the women up in age and only seek the company of a man just for the companionship. That’s what I have with Cain.
Sonji and Jamie are comfortable with him now. I tried to tell them he was harmless. They finally see it for themselves.
Something else I noticed about two weeks ago was how Cain amped up his efforts to find a job. I knew something would come through for him, but I hadn’t expected it to happen so soon – at least I didn’t want it to. That’s why when I got home today and he told me he would be leaving, I felt like someone had just snatched the floor from beneath my feet. I didn’t know how to take it. I plastered a smile on my face and went to my bedroom where I sat on the bed and folded over, agonizing over it.
I had nervous knots in my stomach.
I didn’t want him to leave.
He’s been the missing piece to the complicated puzzle that is Ahmalee Hayes.
I DO NOT want him to leave.
How will my life go back to normal when he is my normal?
* * *
I don’t tell him this over dinner. I just sit quietly, forcing myself to eat spaghetti while thinking about how quiet and boring my life will be when he’s gone. It’ll just be me and my candles again. Me going back to putting all my time and effort into the store. Going back to having no one to care for and no one to care for me.
“Ahmalee.”
I lift my brows, looking up at Cain.
“You okay?” he asks.
“Uh…yeah.” I stir spaghetti and ask him the hard questions I don’t want the answers to. “You found a job?”
Well, I knew the answer to this one. He’d already told me as much, but I needed to start the conversation somehow.
“Yes, I found a job.”
“Where?” I ask, maintaining a glimmer of optimism. His job could be somewhere around here, which would mean I’d still be able to see him on a regular basis. That wouldn’t be so bad.
“It’s in Charlotte,” he answers.
“Oh,” I say downcast. A slight twinge of pain in my chest surprises me. He’s moving back to Charlotte. I should’ve known. It’s his hometown. At least he’s still in the state – three hours away – but still in North Carolina.
“What will you be doing?”
“I’m back in media and production.”
That makes me happy because I know it’s his field. It’s the kind of job he used to do before he lost it all. Now, he has the opportunity for him to work his way back up. I ask, “That’s what you wanted, right?”
“It is.”
“When will you be leaving?”
“Sunday.”
I frown. I feel my heart racing. “This Sunday?” I ask.
Please, don’t say this Sunday.
“Yes.”
I try to hide my angst, but it doesn’t work. I release a sigh and attempt to stop frowning, but I can’t convince my head to stop showing the misery my heart feels.
Cain lays his fork on his plate and says, “You look upset. I thought you’d react differently to the news.”
“How should I act?”
“I mean, I thought you’d be happy for me, Ahmalee.”
“I am happy for you.”
“I can’t tell.”
“That’s because I’m sad, too, Cain. You’ve been a part of my life for like five weeks and now—poof—you’re gone.”
He grins.
It pisses me off. “I’m glad you think that’s funny,” I tell him, getting up from the table. I can’t stomach any more food.
He stands and says, “Ahmalee, I was laughing at the way you said that. I wasn’t laughing at you or this situation.”
“It’s whatever,” I tell him then walk out of the room.
He follows me into the living room and sits next to me on the couch. “I’m sorry, Ahmalee. This is actually hard for me, too, but I have to start somewhere, don’t I?”
“You applied to plenty of jobs here.”
“I did.”
“You couldn’t find anything here?”
“No. Look—we can spend the day together tomorrow.”
Right, because one more day with you is supposed to make everything better.
“I have to work tomorrow, Cain. Sonji’s the only one on schedule. I can’t leave her there by herself.”
“Then we’ll do something when you get off work.”
“When? You have to pack, and get ready to go and—”
He stands only to lower himself to his knees in front of me. He places his hands on my thighs and says, “Ahmalee.”
I look into those brown eyes of his that enchant me. I swallow the lump in my throat and give him my attention. “Yes?”
“I don’t want you to be mad at me.”
I touch that wooly beard that pleasures my fingers and say, “How can I be mad at you? I’m sad, but I’m happy. I only want the best for you, Cain.”
I keep the tears at bay when I wrap my arms around his neck and squeeze him tight.
“I know,” he tells me. “I know.”
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Ahmalee
Now that I had almost a day to process the fact that he’s leaving me (yeah, me), I try to think more about how good this is for him rather than about how painful this is for me. I prepare a going away gift box that includes some of my candles (the ones I know he likes the most) some lotion and that sweet almond massage oil that he’s massaged on me more times than I can count.
I’m at a loss. How do I say bye to him so soon? I’m not ready. I knew this day was coming, but I’m not ready. I want to be able to say a proper goodbye, but his abrupt departure doesn’t afford me that opportunity, so I do what I can. I cook him a fancy dinner. I make steaks, broccoli and baked potatoes stuffed with butter, sour cream and bacon bits.
As usual, Cain’s eating up a storm. He licks his fingers, moans while he does it, then says, “I’m going to have to find a personal chef who can cook like you.”
“Hey, one step at a time. You ain’t rolling in dough yet. Besides, you sat there and watched me prepare the steaks. As hard as you were staring, you should know exactly how to make them.”
“I wasn’t staring at the steaks, sweetheart.”
> I offer a faint smile that disappears along with the hopes that he’d stay. Something is happening between us. It’s been happening. With his departure, it – whatever it is – won’t have a chance to be explored.
He cuts another piece of steak.
Silence lingers.
I ask, “Are you all packed?”
“Yeah.”
“What about living arrangements? Do you have an apartment, or—?”
“No. Can’t afford an apartment in Charlotte. The rent is through the roof—no pun intended.” He smirks.
I chuckle a bit.
He continues, “I rented a room. I knew I wouldn’t be able to get an apartment right out of the gate, but at least I have something. Renting a room will give me some time to find a permanent place I’ll actually like.”
“True.” I give him a lopsided smile.
“What?”
“I’m just…I don’t know.”
“You don’t know?”
I shrug. “I’m proud of you, Cain. You’ve come a long way in the short time you’ve been here. You didn’t give up.”
“Well, I had you there to help me. Thank God it was you.”
Thank God it was you, too.
Instead of saying that, I say, “I was going to tell you I have an extra suitcase for your things—you know—so you don’t have to carry a plastic bag or anything. I’ll get it out before you leave.”
“Okay. Thank you.”
“How are you getting to Charlotte, by the way?”
“I’m taking the Amtrak. I’ll be leaving early tomorrow to catch the city bus down there to the station.”
“I can take you to the train station.”
“No, that’s okay.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yeah.”
“I can’t remember the last time I’ve been on a train,” I say.
“Me either. I took the bus when I first came here—after I hit rock bottom.”
“I was always curious about that.” I wipe my mouth and move away from the table. “Why did you take the bus to this area specifically?”
“I needed to go somewhere. It’s a lot less embarrassing to be a nobody in a lil’ town where no one knows you as the guy who had the world but lost it all.”
“Don’t refer to yourself as a nobody. Being poor or living modestly doesn’t make you a nobody. Do you know why?”
“Why, Ahmalee?”
“Because in the end, when it’s all said and done, people are not going to remember you by the things you owned. They’re not going to be like, ‘Cain Wesley had a mansion, five boats and a fleet of cars. They’ll remember you for who you are as a person. How you made them feel. What you did to help people.”
“How will you remember me?”
“Don’t ask me that, Cain.”
“Why can’t I ask you that?”
“Because it sounds so final. Like there’s no hope of us ever seeing each other again when you leave, and I truly hope that’s not the case.”
“Whatever, woman. You know you’re ready to have your house all back to yourself.”
“You think so?”
“I do think so.”
“Well, you’d be wrong. I’m kinda getting used to having a man around…think I might go find myself a boyfriend.”
He frowns slightly, then it disappears.
“Anyway, um…I’ll go get the suitcase.”
“Okay.”
I don’t know what to make of his mood, or if I should make anything of it. He’s been a little off – not himself. The move is hard for him, too.
I pull out the suitcase, make sure it’s empty and then roll it to the kitchen.
“Here you go.”
He leans back in his chair, looking at me.
“What?” I ask. I can tell when something heavy on his mind.
“I just—I—nothing.” He stands up and says, “Thank you for dinner.” He picks up the suitcase and leaves out the back door.
I’m left…
…wondering.
…agonizing.
…racking my brain to figure out how I’m supposed to be okay with this transition when the universe is screaming to me that I shouldn’t let him go. But what’s the alternative? Beg him to stay and watch him be miserable because he didn’t get that second chance he needed to reclaim his life and legacy? I can’t do that to him. I won’t do it.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Ahmalee
It’s the morning of Cain’s departure from Knightdale.
From my house.
From my life.
I don’t know why it feels this way, but I have this unsettling feeling that I’ll never see him again. Right now, I’m still in bed, dreading this. I was up earlier, made some coffee, unlocked the back door because I knew he’d be coming over to say goodbye. And then I got back in bed. I spent last night restless, tossing and turning while thinking about what might happen to Cain when he leaves and if his life will work out this time. Will he get back on his feet, meet somebody and fall in love? Will he live out his happily ever after?
I think about if he’ll remember me. If he’ll come to visit or call me whenever he’s able to get a phone. I think about all the things we’ve done together. The meals we shared. The movies we watched. The conversations. The fun we had. I think about all he’s done for me around here. On top of all the physical labor, he’s been a friend. I enjoyed coming home from work to find him here.
Now, he won’t be here to welcome me home, rub my feet and listen to me go on and on about candles.
He knocks on the door. It’s time to say goodbye.
I get up, tie on my robe and take the box of gifts I prepared for him. When I come out of the bedroom, I find him in the living room with the suitcase I gave him. He places the keys to the camper on the table.
“I don’t want to draw this out,” he says. “It’s not easy to say goodbye, but I just want to thank you for everything you’ve done for me. You’re the sweetest, kindest woman I know, Ahmalee. I’m going to miss you.”
“I’ll miss you, too,” I tell him. “I made a going away gift box for you.”
I hand him the box. “Don’t open it until you get on the train, okay?”
“Okay.”
“All right…bring it in,” I say trying to remain upbeat about this.
He sets the box on the table before I close my arms around him – completely bathing in his warmth for one last time. I’m certain he doesn’t understand what he’s meant to me these past five weeks. I know I’m the one who helped him, but I never would’ve thought he’d ended up meaning so much to me. He’s not just a homeless man I helped. He’s a friend. A confidant. He’s more to me than I ever thought he’d be.
I release him – sort of symbolic of me releasing him back into the world for his do-over. “Take care of yourself.”
“I will. You do the same, okay?” he says, then nudges my chin with his folded index finger.
“Okay.”
He takes a deep breath, picks up the gift box from the table then pulls his suitcase to the door.
“Bye, Ahmalee.”
“Bye, Cain.”
As soon as I close the door, tears come. I cry, falling to the floor right there at the door. My heart is aching. My friend is gone. It feels terrible – like yet another loss – only he’s still alive. I know the feeling will pass, but in the meantime, it hurts.
I crawl back into bed and cry until I’m tired. I keep telling myself that this move is the best thing for him, and I only want what’s best for him. So, I dry up the tears and say a prayer for him and hope he finds success once more in his life. He deserves it. He deserves the best of everything.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Cain
I have the gift box she gave me in my left hand while I pull the suitcase down the street with my right. I’m heading toward the bus stop nearby, but I’m not taking a bus to the Amtrak station. I’ll be leaving for Charlotte, but not by way of train and not today
.
When I’m further down the road and can no longer see Ahmalee’s house, I walk toward the black Phantom that’s been waiting for me.
The driver – a recent hire named Percy – gets out, opens the back door for me, then closes it when I’m inside. He proceeds with his duties of putting my suitcase in the trunk before hopping in the driver’s seat. Meanwhile, I’m holding this box – this gift – from my angel. Everything in me tells me to go back to her now – to put and end to this.
Percy glances at me via the rearview mirror. “Good morning, Mr. Wesley. Your assistant says she booked you a room at the Hyatt.”
“That’s correct.”
“Will we be going straight there, or do you need to make any pit stops?”
“Straight there, please.” I place both hands on the box. My heart says stay. My mind says go. This confusion baffles me. I’ve never felt it before.
“Were you in Raleigh on business, Sir?”
Percy is new – I fired the old driver for arriving late to pick me up – so he doesn’t know me well enough to know I don’t like to chit chat – particularly not today. I’d rather just sit here with my box and memories of the past month and a half of my life.
I answer reluctantly, “Something like that,” hoping he’d read between the lines, then I’m back to thinking about Ahmalee. Hearing her cry on the other side of the door when I left took something out of me, especially after I witnessed her trying her hardest to hold it together. She told me how sad she was that I was leaving. It pained her – hurt her because she loves me. She never said it, but when love is strong enough, real enough, it doesn’t have to be said at all.
Percy interrupts my thoughts again when he says, “Everybody at Immersive was trying to figure out where you were, Sir, and when you were coming back.”
“I’m not trying to be rude, Percy, but I’m not in a talking mood at the moment. It’s been a long morning.”