by RM Johnson
Shaun and Bug were already in the hallway, but after hearing what was said, Jahlil stepped back inside the apartment and slammed the door behind him. He locked the door and angrily hurried toward Shaun’s mother.
Jahlil heard Bug outside trying to get in, his muffled voice begging, “Jahlil, let’s just go, man!”
He ignored Bug’s pleas and raced toward the woman, stopped just in front of her, snatched her by the front of her robe, jerked her toward him, and reared back his fist.
The woman cowered, raised both her arms, shut her eyes, and cried, “Don’t hurt me!”
Jahlil wanted to strike her, wanted to beat her, he was so angry. Not just at her, but at himself, at his life, at the loss of his friend Toomey and everything he had done to land him in the awful place he was in. Jahlil saw himself throwing Shaun’s mother to the ground, straddling her, pummeling her with his fists, taking all his hate and frustration out on her. But what good would that do him? Jahlil thought, his shaking hand still raised over his head. It would only make things worse, if that were even possible. Jahlil slowly lowered his arm and fought back the curse words he wanted to say to the woman. He spat at her feet, then walked out of the apartment.
74
Lewis stood in the large room with the old vinyl floor tiles, the chairs, and the four sofas. He had been taken to this visitation room in the psychiatric facility by a nice red-haired woman. She told him Freddy would be brought in momentarily.
Lewis paced the room, regretting his decision to come. But regardless of how often he tried to focus on other things and to spend time with the troubled teen, Jahlil, he could not stop worrying about Freddy’s threats. He wondered how the man was doing. He could only imagine how his childhood friend would look after all he had gone through. Was he really crazy, or was Freddy pretending? The last time Lewis had spoken with him was on the phone. Freddy had said that he thought Lewis sold him out. That Nate Kenny and the police were only able to find Freddy in Atlanta because Lewis pointed them in that direction. Freddy said he blamed Lewis then but said nothing about coming after him. After speaking to Kia, Lewis had realized that what she said was true. Freddy never said things he didn’t mean and never planned things he didn’t accomplish. He only had a GED, but Freddy had said he would study like crazy and earn his real estate license, and he did just that. When Lewis was jumped by a group of boys in high school, Freddy had promised Lewis he would make each one of them pay. One by one, he caught them alone, walking home from school, out after a party, or in the boys’ room taking a piss. He caught them off guard, beat the hell out of them with a baseball bat. It was the same baseball bat that he had killed his own father with at eight years old.
Before that awful event, Freddy would sometimes tell Lewis how much he hated his father, how often his father would beat his mother, and then Freddy would mutter something like, “One day I’m gonna kill him.”
Lewis had always laughed that off, told Freddy he couldn’t hurt a fly. Lewis knew better now. That was the reason he was there.
The door to the visitation room opened. Freddy was led into the room by a big man wearing a white medical coat covering his uniform.
The two men stopped in front of Lewis. Freddy was released. The man next to Freddy said, “I’ll be right over by the door. If you need something, just say.”
“Yeah,” Lewis said, eyeing Freddy. His old friend looked like he was ready to go to bed, wearing slippers and a house robe. His beard was long, his hair short, his eyes vacant.
“You gonna say something, or you just gonna stare at me like you crazy?” Freddy said, opening his arms.
Lewis stepped forward, reluctantly embraced Freddy, and pounded him softly three times on the back like he used to with the flat of his fist.
When he stepped back, there was now a smile on Freddy’s face. “Look at you, looking all clean. Life must be good. Have a seat. Tell me what’s been up with you.”
Although he looked out of sorts, Freddy didn’t sound crazy, Lewis thought. He actually sounded saner than he had in a long time.
“I ain’t come here to chat, Freddy. Monica been up here to see you?”
Freddy laughed, lowering himself onto a wooden chair. “Yeah, she was all scared, looking like I was out to get her or something.”
“Think that might have something to do with the fact you came in her house and almost killed her?”
“I ain’t mean that. I told you and her that,” Freddy said, the smile gone from his face.
“What else you tell her?”
“What you mean?”
“You tell her you coming after me?” Lewis said, then leaned down closer to Freddy, lowering his voice. “Just what the fuck you mean by that?”
Freddy was smiling again, chuckling. “Just like I thought. We known each other since we was shorties, but it takes me talking some craziness for my best friend to come visit me.”
“You saying you only told Monica that just to get me to come up here?”
“You ain’t ever come before,” Freddy said. “Have you?”
Lewis all of a sudden felt relieved. “No,” he admitted. “Shit went crazy between us. I didn’t even think you would’ve wanted me to come up here.”
Freddy stood, stepped right up to Lewis, stared him in the eyes. “How many friends you think I got? I had Kia, but she dumped me and killed my baby.”
Lewis could still see that Freddy’s heart ached thinking his baby was dead. For a split second, he thought about telling Freddy the truth, but that would cause him more pain than good, knowing he would miss at least the first couple of years of that child’s life.
“I got back with Joni,” Freddy continued. “I loved her. We was gonna be together forever, then …” Freddy trailed off. The muscles tightened in his jaw as he looked painfully away from Lewis. When he looked back, it appeared he was trying his best to calm himself. “I had Joni, but now she’s dead. You my only friend. I wanna see you from time to time.”
“So you ain’t mean what you told Monica?”
“Naw, man. I ain’t mean that,” Freddy said, grinning again.
“You sure about that?”
Smiling wider, Freddy said, “On my mama’s grave, I’m sure about that.”
75
After work, Monica and Tabatha sipped martinis at a new, swank bar on Rush Street called Spiro. Monica was staring obliviously off into space again.
“Where your head at, girl? You’ve had that vacant glare on your face all day at work. I was really considering sending you home.” Tabatha smiled.
“Oh, you send me home. That’s a new one.”
“On the real, you need to tell me what’s on your mind.”
“Men,” Monica said, taking a drink.
“Ah, the new guy. Attorney at law Austin Harris. You make him sound like a good guy, a guy who’s looking to settle down. What’s the problem?”
“That is the problem,” Monica said. “He’s known me a week, and the last time we spoke, he was talking about the future, and forever, and the rest of our lives and stuff. I started to itch. I think I was breaking out, ’cause I’m allergic to that kinda talk now.”
Tabatha laughed. “Please tell me you didn’t kick him to the curb.”
“Not yet.”
“Why, not yet? Why can’t you just let it happen with this guy?”
“Nate.”
Tabatha stared at Monica with her mouth open. She stood up from the bar stool, took three paces away, came back, sat back down, and said, “I know you didn’t just say that fool’s name in here, and say it like you were giving some serious thought to anything concerning his ass.”
“He came by to see me at the store last night, said he knows we’re done for good now, and gave me this,” Monica said, setting Nate’s wedding band down in front of Tabatha.
Tabatha picked it up. “His wedding band?”
“Yeah.”
“I have two questions. One I know the answer to, so I’ll ask you the other. Why the hell y
ou carrying this around with you?”
“Don’t know. Guess I never took it out of my purse,” Monica said, sipping from her martini. “What’s your answer to your other question?”
Tabatha set the ring back in front of Monica, shaking her head. “I was gonna ask why he came by. But the answer is because he’s messing with your head, playing the old Jedi mind trick on you, girl.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“He begs you to come back, you’re gonna say no like you always do. He tells you he no longer wants you, any woman’s first question is ‘Why not?’” Tabatha said. “You haven’t been able to stop thinking about this, have you?”
“I don’t love him anymore,” Monica said. “I promise.”
“You sure?” Tabatha said, sounding skeptical.
“Yeah. But I hate myself for what I allowed him to do to me. I keep thinking I should try to do something to get back some of what he took from me. I don’t wanna hate myself anymore.”
“How would you do that?”
“I don’t know. But I’m always thinking about it,” Monica said.
“And what, that’s stopping you from being able to give the lawyer guy a fair shot?”
“Something like that,” Monica said. “He’s a sweet man. Supposed to be picking me up tonight to take me somewhere. Said it was a surprise. I just hope he ain’t taking me somewhere so he can propose.”
76
Jahlil left Shaun at the hospital after spending the whole day there. The nurses admitted her, telling Jahlil there were some minor complications with the pregnancy and the baby might have to be delivered within the next day or two.
“She wasn’t supposed to have it for at least another two weeks,” Jahlil told the nurse attending Shaun.
“The baby will be fine,” the nurse said. “We’re going to keep Shaun here, run a few more tests, see what the doctor says, and we’ll let you know as soon as he decides.”
Jahlil visited Shaun in her hospital room after he was given the news.
“They told you what’s going on?” Shaun said.
“Yeah.”
“I’m scared.”
“Don’t be,” Jahlil said, rubbing a hand across her hair. “They said everything gonna be all right.”
“I ain’t scared about that. If my momma kick me out, where am I gonna go? You get the place yet?”
Jahlil hadn’t yet found the nerve to tell her he hadn’t. “You don’t gotta worry about nothing, all right? You just get better.” Jahlil leaned in, kissed Shaun on the cheek. “I love you.”
He caught the bus home. By the time he got there, it was already late into the evening. He walked into his bedroom and went into his closet. He knew his father would be at work, but he was thankful that his mother wasn’t there. Last night, Jahlil imagined that his father must’ve walked into the apartment right after Jahlil’s mother hit the floor. To him, it must’ve looked like Jahlil had hit her, but he hadn’t.
They were arguing, as they always seemed to have been doing lately. She walked up on him, screaming, and he had simply pushed her off him. He didn’t mean to push her so hard, didn’t know she would fall, but she did. That’s when his father came in and punched him.
Jahlil thought his father was wrong to have done that to him, but he never treated Jahlil the way he should’ve. His father never loved him, and that was just one more reason Jahlil needed to be out from under their rule.
Setting the shoe box on his bed, Jahlil opened it, took his money, stuffed the roll in one pocket, and grabbed his gun, shoving it in the opposite one. He had to do what was necessary.
77
Lewis closed the storybook after he realized that Layla and Tammi had both fallen off to sleep. They lay in their twin beds on either side of him. A Princess and the Frog lamp stood burning dimly on the nightstand, allowing him to admire just how adorable they both were.
Before he’d met Eva, Lewis’s life had been in shambles. He had just been released from a short stint in jail, miraculously dodging a possible five-year sentence. But he was homeless, jobless, and broke.
He’d had too many problems and too few solutions. But one day, he walked into the DCFS building, looking for an answer to one of those problems, and he found Eva. She worked there as a case adviser and had found Lewis the job he had now. To him, she had also given herself, and her daughter, which provided everything else Lewis needed—love, companionship, stability, and the desire to be a better man. With Layla, Tammi, and Eva, Lewis felt stronger, more confident, and more loved than he ever had in his entire life. He was happy that the business with Freddy was nothing more than talk. He didn’t want to have to tell Eva about his involvement with Freddy for fear of losing her, but more than that, he didn’t want her or the children getting caught up in the hell that Freddy often pulled those who surrounded him into.
Lewis set the storybook under the chair he was sitting in, and leaned over to kiss his daughter on the cheek, then kissed Tammi good night as well.
Lewis walked through the hallway of the house he now owned, the house that had been given to him by Monica. It was where she once lived, where they had lived together when they were a couple. But that was some time ago. Now he was with Eva, and she spent as much time here in Lewis’s house as he spent at hers.
When he stepped into his bedroom, Eva was on his bed, wearing one of his T-shirts and a pair of his pajama bottoms, sifting through a number of papers.
Lewis sat on the bed beside her and kissed the side of her neck. “You have a closet full of your own clothes here, why you wearing my stuff?”
“ ’Cause your stuff feels better,” Eva said.
“I think wearing no stuff would feel best,” Lewis said, lifting up her T-shirt and sneaking a kiss on the side of her belly. “How’s the search coming? Find anything that could help Jahlil?”
“Think so,” she said, digging out a page and holding it so Lewis could see. “There’s something called the TANF program—Temporary Assistance for Needy Families. I think it might be perfect for him.”
“What is it?” Lewis asked, taking the paper from her.
“It says,” Eva read, “its purpose is ‘to assist needy families so that children can be cared for in their own homes, to prevent out-of-wedlock pregnancies, to encourage the formation and maintenance of two-parent families, and to reduce the dependency of needy parents by promoting job preparation and marriage.’” Eva turned to Lewis. “What do you think?”
“I think you’re the best, most thoughtful woman in the world. And I think that program sounds perfect for Jahlil. I can’t wait to tell him tomorrow.”
78
Austin walked around his car to open the door for Monica.
She took his hand and allowed him to help her out. She looked beautiful, wearing a casual lavender dress with black heels.
She looked up at the house before them; a number of cars were parked along the curb. “Where are we?”
“I told you, it’s a surprise,” Austin said, closing the door and walking Monica up the path toward the house.
She stopped before they made it to the first stair.
“Okay, the intrigue was nice, but I’d really appreciate it if you told me where we are.”
“Monica …” Austin smiled.
“I need to know where you’re taking me. Please.”
“It’s a small family gathering,” Austin said. “My ex-wife—”
“Your ex-wife!”
“Yes, my ex-wife throws these impromptu dinners, invites the family and friends, and I wanted them to meet you.”
Monica looked back over her shoulder at the car as if she were considering breaking away and making a dash for it. “Couldn’t you have told me that before now?”
“We’ll have a couple of drinks, something to eat, and we’ll leave. What’s the big deal?”
“Who said I was ready to meet your family? Don’t you think you’re taking this a little fast?”
“Here we g
o with that again,” Austin said, digging his keys out of his pocket. He grabbed Monica’s hand and started back to the car. “You wanna just leave? Fine. I didn’t know you’d be so against this.”
“Stop it!” Monica said, yanking her hand away and halting in the middle of the sidewalk. “It’s not that I don’t want to meet them. You keep talking about a future, about a relationship together, but what kind of foundation are you building when you keep me in the dark about things like this?”
Austin thought a moment. “You’re right,” he said. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have sprung this on you. What do you want to do?”
Monica took more time than Austin felt she needed. “I want to go in there and meet these people. But don’t do this to me again, Austin.”
“Okay,” Austin said, taking Monica’s hand, and walking her back in the direction of the house.
Fifteen minutes later, Austin stood in the dining room, very close to Monica, both of them holding drinks. He had already introduced her to his ex-wife, Trace, who had been very gracious.
“I just love your dress,” Trace said.
“Thank you. You have a beautiful home. I’ll have to get the number of your interior designer.”
Trace smiled. “I think you already have his number. He did all this,” she said, looking at Austin. “You two have a nice time.”
“She seems nice enough,” Monica said. “Why did you let her get away?”
“I guess I didn’t know a good thing when I had it. That’s not the case anymore,” Austin said.
Monica leaned in and gave him a quick kiss on the lips.
This was what he had been missing, Austin told himself. The house was filled with neighbors and co-workers from both Trace’s job and John’s. The couples stood talking, drinking, and laughing, and during that time, Austin would sneak peeks at Monica, hoping she was enjoying herself, hoping that this would bring her one step closer to possibly wanting something with him.