"Why are you doing this to me? I would've never met Nasir, had you not been neglecting me."
"You meant a lot to me, Angie." he started.
"I mean- you just fucked me!" she yelled.
He held up his hand as a request for silence. "But, truth is, I am in love with Melissa. She's having my child. I- I came over here tonight to tell you. I didn't want to have sex with you, but you came on to me, and I-I don't know what I was thinking. I just know that I can't do this anymore. I can't bounce back and forth between two women, anymore."
"I don't believe this!" Angie wailed, looking at Melissa, who was smiling again.
"Believe it. Because, I'm leaving you. It's over." he said, as he took Melissa's hand and they walked away.
Angie dropped in the doorway and cried so hard, it hurt physically. She couldn't breathe. Brandon Whitmore had just taken her life.
Chapter 15
Karla
Marianne's Coffee shop had only a few people in it that day. Karla and Tony chose a cozy table in a rear corner.
“You look very pretty,” he admired her, as she was dressed in a teal, orange, and brown ankle length skirt, an orange sleeveless shirt, gold sandals, and small gold earrings. She wore her dreads in a ponytail.
“Thank you,” she smiled.
“Nice day out, too. I’m just glad it isn’t raining like crazy today,” he said.
“I love the rain. It’s calming,” she smiled.
“So, what’s your story?” he bit into his cream cheese danish.
She sipped her coffee, “What do you mean?”
“You are undeniably beautiful and professional. Where’s the ring on your finger?”
She looked at her svelte fingers and laughed. “Oh, I haven’t even given it much thought. I guess you can say I‘m married to my career. I‘ve absorbed a lot of my time and energy into it.”
“I see you are very passionate about it. Is it rewarding for you at the end of the day?”
“Very. I love the fact that I’m helping women to help themselves. A lot of my clients are a challenge, because they relapse back to drugs, go back to the men who abuse them, or just give up hope and stop seeing me. But the ones who I‘ve helped to get away from their abusers, find good and stable housing, and secure safety for their children, are the ones that make it worthwhile.”
“Yeah, I know what you mean. A lot of the young men who come to the center really care about their futures. They want some sense of direction, you know? They wouldn’t be there if they didn’t care. They could be out in the streets gangbangin or selling dope, but they come to the center to play basketball, learn new things, and have something to do. All of them aren’t lost causes, but then I have some who have nothing to look forward to but their fatherless homes, where their mothers have abusive men, drug habits, or both. I had one client that I just knew was gonna give up. He grew up in a crack house. The feds got his father, when he was twelve, then his mother died of a heroin overdose, six months after his fifteenth birthday, his aunt came and got him out of foster care and moved him with her in Miami, to start a fresh life. He hung around his cousins, who were gang affiliated. One night, when he was coming home from a school basketball game, he witnessed his cousin getting shot in the back of the head. Driveby shooting. Then, at seventeen, he learned he was gonna be a father. I gotta be honest with you. I thought the boy was going to be a wreck. I had been trying to keep him off the streets before he moved to Miami. He moved back here, right after his cousin’s murder. I got him some counseling, hung in there with him through the thick and the thin. He went on to graduate high school, and now he’s in college in Alabama, studying business. That young man has completely turned his life around. When he calls me, all he talks about is how he has to hang in there for his son and show him a different life than the one he had to live. So, at the end of the day, my job is very rewarding too.”
Karla saw the passion in his eyes as he spoke and she could relate. “People always say don’t get in too deep and don’t lose any sleep over the clients,” she started.
“But those are usually people who don’t have much compassion and could never be in our line of work. They would break down and quit within a month.”
“You took the words right out of my mouth,” she laughed.
He paused for a minute. “Karla, would you like to take a walk? Get some fresh air. Finish our conversation, you know.”
She looked down at the napkin that his danish had been laying on. “Why? Are you trying to walk off that huge danish you just ate?” she giggled.
He laughed, too. “Well, actually I could stand to gain a few pounds.” He stood and extended his hand. “C’mon, shall we?”
It was a nice warm day. People were walking in all directions, in and out of boutiques and shops for blocks ahead. They walked by Marlow's Cafe, Dianne's Wig Parlor, The Euneek Boutique, and Rakim's Bookstore, right across the street from the popular Mama Lee's Soul Food Shack, where the fish and grits were guaranteed the best you'd ever tasted and the buttermilk biscuits were made from scratch and freshly baked, right in front of you.
They walked back toward the coffee shop, where they had parked. He walked her to her car.
“I want to thank you for a lovely afternoon, Karla.”
“You’re welcome. I enjoyed it, myself.”
He looked into her hazel eyes. “Your eyes are so beautiful. I know you get that a lot, but they are just - amazing.”
She felt herself blushing. “Thank you, Tony.”
He paused for a second.
“Well, I gotta go now. I had a nice time.”
He grabbed her hand. “Is it too much to ask to see you again?”
“Depends on where you wanna see me,” she smiled.
“Why? Do you think I wanna take you to a rough area, so we can eat a nice dinner and listen to the music of shooting bullets and screaming?”
She giggled. “You are something else.”
“That I am. But you don’t know that yet.”
He was serious. She got nervous.
“I just wanna see you again, outside of church. Maybe dinner. I‘m an excellent cook, now. C‘mon…say yes!” The innocence in his charismatic smile charmed her.
“Sure. Call me tomorrow.”
“Okay. Tomorrow.”
She got inside her car, waved at Tony, and drove off.
He stood next to his car and waved. She looked in her rearview mirror at him.
“I don’t know what it is about this man, but I like him.” she thought.
Chapter 16
Roni
Roni sat down and gave Johnny’s apartment a thorough but subtle once over. He didn’t have a whole lot, but she could tell he kept it very neat and clean. She could always tell when people cleaned their houses on the surface, just to create the illusion that they clean regularly, but not Johnny. Everything was spic and span. There wasn’t a spec of dust anywhere in sight. The room smelled of burning incense. She looked up to see one sticking out from a tiny nail hole in the wall. The ash from the long scented stick fell onto his neutral colored carpet. That was the only thing she saw that was out of the ordinary. Why didn’t he put it in an incense holder? Her eyes roamed to a black leather sofa and matching loveseat, surrounding a large black and gold rug with a panther on it. At either end of the sofa were two black and gold end tables and lamps. A twenty seven inch television sat on something rectangular, which he covered with a blue piece of cloth. He had a large white sheet that he used as a curtain, hanging at the living room window. He had a very small dinette table with only two chairs.
“Make yourself comfortable, Roni. I am just finishing the chicken,” he handed her the remote to his television.
She let it remain on the Sci Fi station he’d been watching.
“So, I see you like a little Sci Fi too, huh?” he called from his small kitchen.
“Yeah, it’s cool. My older brother used to watch it all the time. I started to like it after awhile.”
He wiped his hand on a dish cloth, then came and sat next to her. His colonge smelled so good. She tried to act as if she didn’t notice.
“So.” he smiled.
“So…,” she smiled back, nervously.
“Dinner will be ready in about five minutes. I put a sweet honey glaze on the oven fried chicken. You’re gonna love it.”
“Sounds good.”
He turned his attention to the tv, as a grotesque, hairy monster attempted to grab a screaming lady. She turned her head to look at him. He was very handsome. He must have seen her out of his peripheral vision. He turned and looked at her. She quickly diverted her eyes to the screen.
“Um. Can I show you my equipment?”
“Excuse me?”
He chuckled. “My studio equipment. It’s in the second bedroom.”
“Oh, sure,” she felt foolish after thinking he’d meant his “equipment”.
The room wasn’t very large, but held quite a bit of his things. He had synthesizers, a microphone, a keyboard, a guitar, an amplifier, and all the equipment to make beats, record, and write his music.
“Wow,” she stood in amazement.
“This is where I do most of my writing. I usually sit by the window over here and just do my thing. I can‘t use a lot of my equipment because the room isn‘t right for it, but I just usually create beats or write music and play my guitar or keyboard and record it.”
“This is pretty cool, Johnny.”
“Thanks. Maybe one day I’ll sit and show you how to work everything.”
“I would like that.”
“Cool,” he smiled.
His honey glazed, oven fried chicken, collard greens, candied yams, and buttery cornbread muffins were scrumptious. “This is what I‘m talkin‘ about. Some down home soul food,” she said in between bites. “Where did you learn to cook like this?”
He grinned. “You like it huh?”
She nodded, with a full mouth. She felt slightly guilty about eating the fattening food, because of her newfound illness, but decided it was okay to indulge every blue moon. She would just cut back on her fat intake for the rest of the week.
“Well, there's a little myth about White women not being able to cook. Let me tell you, though, my mother is the best when it comes to cooking! She always told my brother and I that one day we would grow to be independent men. She always said that even if we had a woman, knowing how to cook was a necessity. She taught us not to solely depend on anyone for anything. My father was a mean cook too. He could bake, too. He could make a pound cake that would make you slap ya mama!” he laughed.
“That’s really good. You don’t find to many men who know how to burn.”
“Yeah, well I try.”
"Your parents both still alive?" she asked.
"My mother is. She lives down in Largo, Florida. I would love for you to meet her one day. My father passed away. Let's just say, that's the reason I would never put a cigarette in my mouth ever again," he said.
"I'm sorry to hear that," she said.
"No. I'm good. I started smoking when I was seventeen. I quit the day my dad was diagnosed with lung cancer. Haven't smoked since." he took a sip of his iced tea. "So, your parents are alive right?"
"I never knew my dad. My mom lives in California. I have two sisters. No brothers," she said with a blank expression. Since she didn't look too happy about discussing her family, he didn't ask anything else about them.
After dinner, Roni sat on the sofa and stared at the television, while he loaded the dirty dishes into his dishwasher. He came and sat very close to her. She held her breath for a second.
“You okay?” he asked, as he put his arm around her.
“Yeah,” her voice was almost a whisper.
“I am really enjoying having you here, Roni.”
She looked into his eyes. “I’m enjoying being here.”
They tried to watch the movie, but ended up simultaneously looking at each other. She knew what was about to happen. Part of her wanted to refuse it, but the other half of her wanted it so badly. She wanted to kiss him. He must have been reading her mind. He leaned in and placed the sweetest, softest smooch on her full lips. He sat back slightly and looked into her round eyes, as if he was looking for her approval to kiss her again. Her eyes must had been begging for more, because this time , after another smooch, he slid his warm, moist tongue inside her mouth. They kissed slowly and passionately momentarily.
She could feel her temperature rising, literally. “Mmm. Johnny, it’s getting late. I- I gotta work in the morning.”
“Okay. I understand. Just let me walk you out to your car.”
“Sure.”
Once safely inside her car, with her seatbelt on, she looked up at him. “Good night, Johnny. See you at work tomorrow.”
“I have tomorrow off, remember?”
“Oh, that’s right. Well, I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”
“I hope so,” he blew her a kiss as she put her car in reverse.
“I hope so”, he whispered to himself as he watched her car disappear.
When Roni got home, she looked at her answering machine, which had three messages flashing on it. She ignored them. Her cell phone also had a missed call from Angie, but no voicemail. “I’ll call her tomorrow,” she thought as she dressed for bed, took her medicine, and fell asleep.
When she woke at five thirty the next morning, she was extremely dizzy. When she stood up, the room seemed to spin.
“Oh my God, what’s going on?” Just then, she remembered one of the major side effects of her medication, was dizziness. She’d only been taking one of the meds and had recently added the second one into her daily regimen. Determined to go to work, she fought the dizzy sensation, and very slowly, took steps toward her bathroom. She took her cell phone with her.
She wasn’t in the shower three minutes before the dizziness increased tremendously. It became unbearable. She turned the water off, slung the shower curtain open and stuck her foot out to step out. Instead, she fell backward, pulling the shower curtain down with her. The sharp pain in her lower back was excruciating. She yelped in pain. She attempted to sit up, but the searing pain got worse. After about ten minutes, she managed to roll out of the tub and slide across the floor to her cell phone that lied at the edge of her vanity.
She dialed 911 and talked to the dispatcher, despite her voice being weak and her words barely audible. Minutes later, Medic arrived to find her unclothed and on the verge of fainting. The two EMT’s covered her nude body, then rushed her off to the hospital. In the ambulance, she was given oxygen and an IV.
When she woke up, she was all alone in the hospital bed. She looked around at the soft green, lavender, and gray shades on the walls and privacy curtains. Suddenly, a brown skinned, slim nurse came bouncing into the room.
“Hello, Miss Carter. I’m Suzanne Horton. I’m the physician assistant for the doctor on duty this morning, Dr. Lobreski. So, I understand that you are taking five hundred milligrams of metformin or glucophage, and fifty milligrams of spironolactone, daily. Is that correct?”
Roni was feeling somewhat better. The room wasn’t spinning, but her back was still sore.
“Yes. I just started the glucophage a few days ago. I hadn’t had any reaction to the spironolactone. I’m also taking a birth control pill to regulate my cycles.”
“Okay. Well, metformin can cause some pretty rough side effects, like nausea, dizziness, lightheadedness, and even fainting. It usually subsides within a week or two. The doctor has advised that you stay on the meds. You should follow up with your primary care physician as soon as possible about lowering your dose for now, then gradually increasing it. Maybe you got more than your body can handle, just starting out. Everybody’s different. Some people can tolerate it from the beginning. Others have to have gradual increases in their dosage. So, how are you feeling right now? Did the meclizine help with the dizziness?”
&nbs
p; “Yes. My back is still very sore and stiff, though.”
“Yeah, you had quite a fall apparently. You tore a few tendons. You know, pulled some muscles.. Sudden moves that we make to break a fall can cause us to twist our backs in an akward position, resulting in either a slipped disk, or like I said, pulled muscles.”
“Oh, man. I’m not going to be able to go to work. I manage a hotel. We have a lot going on right now. I should be there.”
“I think you need to take it easy, Miss Carter. For at least the next few days. I have prescribed a muscle relaxer and Tylenol with codeine for pain, since you have no allergies. Also the meclizine, in case the dizziness comes back. All of the medicine has the potential to make you extremely drowsy. It varies from person to person, so you may not be as drowsy as the next person. If I were you, I’d take the next few days off and let that back rest, and give yourself time to adjust better to your meds. Do you have any concerns before I get the nurse to get your discharge papers?”
Roni shook her head.
“Is there anyone to drive you home?”
“Yes, one of my friends will come,” she said, then gave her Angie and Daphne’s cell phone number, just in case one couldn’t come. “Also, could you let her know that I don’t have anything to wear home and ask her to bring me some clothes?”
“No problem,” the physician assistant said, walking out of the room.
The only thing Roni had was the hospital gown and booties they’d given her.
About an hour after she was discharged, Angie came to pick her up. She wore a pair of white jeans that looked like she made no attempt to iron and an unzipped grey hooded sweater, revealing a pink pajama tank top with yellow stars on it. Her black hair was pulled back into a ponytail and covered with an Atlanta braves hat, and her face was pale, with no makeup. She held a Walmart bag in her hand with a pair of size sixteen jeans, and a cheap white t-shirt.
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