No Love for the Wicked

by Tiana Laveen

  “She heard about the dollhouse, and she kept giving Nicole presents to try and get back into my life, see her granddaughter, even though I’d asked her to stop. After I moved out at age seventeen, I had stopped talkin’ to my mother. Anyway, when I was movin’ out after the death of Nicole, Christina took a hammer and smashed that dollhouse to smithereens. She knew that would hurt me. She wanted to punish me, as if killin’ my daughter wasn’t fuckin’ enough! I hated that woman! I wanted to fuckin’ kill her! But I didn’t… because I wasn’t sure if she’d really done it on purpose, and I still saw her as the mother of my kid, after all the shit she’d done! When I heard she was dead, I went out and got high and drunk. Bought all of my friends beers and celebrated! Jesus Christ!” He was sobbing now, rocking back and forth, falling apart, and all she could do, was hold tight to him. So tight!

  After a few moments, he regained his composure and opened his wallet. He slid out a tiny picture, worn along the corners, and handed it to her.

  “That’s her.” He smiled proudly as he pointed to it. “That’s my baby girl, Nicole.”

  The little black and white photo featured a gorgeous baby girl with wavy black hair and huge dark eyes with long lashes, sporting a gorgeous white dress and little frilly socks on her plump feet. She looked to be about three months old in the picture.

  “She was beautiful, Angelo. Oh, what a doll.” Andrea pressed the picture to her heart, the tears continuing to stream down her face as she held it close. “She knew how much you loved her, Angelo. Babies can feel that. She wants you to forgive yourself, so you can heal. You haven’t given yourself a break. Even after all these years.”

  He hung his head. Tears fell onto his pants, darkening the fabric. He quickly wiped his face, but it was no use.

  “Am I right? Do you know if Christina did this on purpose, Andrea? I gotta know!”

  The man was the most vulnerable she’d ever seen him. She placed the picture on her lap and reached for his hand.

  “Angelo, you blame your mother for your father’s death, and you blame Christina for your daughter’s death. In both cases, if it’s true or not, the answer will still not give you any peace. It won’t bring them back from the grave. On top of it all, you are more upset with yourself than you are with your mother, and the mother of your child. The answer to that question will do nothing but torment you, regardless of which way the truth swings. If she did it on purpose, you’ll feel the same way you do now. If she didn’t, you’ll feel some sort of guilt for her death, too.”

  He swallowed, shook his head. Beside himself.

  “No matter what the answer is, you will feel the exact same way you do right now,” she said. “I don’t have the answer you requested, anyway. Just as I seek answers that, at this point, probably don’t matter, so do you. You’ve endured so much pain your entire life, you’ve turned off your emotions. It was far too costly. Now, you’re being forced to deal with it. And that hurts. I, too, have had growing pains, especially when dealin’ with you.”

  He smiled sadly at her.

  “You have forced me to look inside, versus just what I see with my own eyes. You have forced me to acknowledge the layers, the petals and the roots. You have forced me to water the good, and starve the bad. I, too, hold anger. I hold guilt. Just because I am quieter about it doesn’t mean it’s not happening, so who am I to judge you? We are two sides of the same coin, Angelo, my angel, and way more alike than I ever gave either of us credit for. I saw myself as above you when in fact, we’re both misfits. Only, you wore your misfit badge proudly.” They held each other’s hand. Right then, the protector needed protection.

  “So, I just go on like this? Wondering.”

  “You don’t go on like this, but you do go on, baby. Sometimes, being able to find out answers about the past and the future still leaves us shattered! Every time I try to read my parents, I come up empty. That’s God’s way of trying to give me peace, to tell me to leave it alone. But I fought peace, due to my own guilt of bein’ alive while they’re dead! I was supposed to be in that car with them, but I was sick. It was guilt makin’ me come up with this craziness! Guilt that someone must’ve done something to their car, and there had to be foul play. I could not accept it for what it was! Two young people, helplessly in love, who’d just had a baby, me, died in a car crash. That’s what happened!” Tears streamed down her face.

  “I have to face the truth! You already know the truth about your daughter… but you want it to be different, so you can live with it! That’s the reality. The cold, harsh truth. I just realized that, through you. Your pain has freed me, and my pain can free you too, if you let it. As far as Nicole, just know she’s in heaven. She’s okay. And she wants you to let go of this hatred you have in your heart, Angelo!”

  She grabbed his chin and made him face her. “Wisdom comes out of the mouth of babes. You’re brimming with anger. I can even feel it in your passionate kisses. You’ve held it so long, it’s now a part of you. That’s why it is hard to let it go. This self-reproach! You keep piling it on top of yourself. Guilt now about Luciano, too. More and more guilt! It has to go. Your daughter wasn’t cryin’ for herself, baby. There is no colic, no pain, no agony in heaven! She was cryin’ in my dreams for YOU. For her DADDY! She needs her father to release this pain and live his life. She will see her daddy again, and she knows it. You are not destined for hell! You will live to an old age if that’s what you want. You are not defined by the deeds of your mother and father. You are your own man! You have lied to yourself since you were a child, as a way to survive the brutality in your life, but the truth and amnesty, so help me God, is your only salvation!”

  He took her in his arms and stole her breath with his embrace, sobbing against her. She rocked him back and forth in her arms, squeezing him back, while Andy Gibb crooned, ‘An Everlasting Love.’

  “You are safe with me, Angelo. This conversation stays between you and me. Forever. You can trust me. I’m your soulmate. I’m your woman, your lover… We are best friends. Your vulnerabilities are your strengths. One thing you said to me a long time ago stuck with me. ‘Killers have dreams. Killers fall in love, too…’ Baby, it’s time to fall in love with yourself. Do so by dreamin’ big, and granting yourself the gift of forgiveness…”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  Blood and Chocolate

  Rule 21: If you give someone an inch, Angelo, they’ll take a mile. Break the ruler.

  …A few weeks later

  “So, what do you think of the teal and pink?”

  “Mmm hmm, yeah.” Angelo slipped the hardbound book off the bookshelf in Andrea’s apartment and thumbed through it. “…That’s good.”

  “Angelo, you’re not even listening. What did I just say?”

  He held the open book in his hands and flipped to the table of contents.

  “You said you wanted some tea and pink cookies.” He burst out laughing when she hurled a pillow at him, barely missing his head. “I heard ya, you said teal and pink for the bridesmaid’s dresses. Whatever ya want, baby. That’s fine. Why should I care? I’m not wearing that shit.”

  “Thanks!” she said sarcastically, sitting in the middle of her living room floor. “You’ve been a great help!”

  “Hey, baby.” He kept flipping the book. “Do you do love spells for your clients? Are you that type of witch?”

  She sucked her teeth and rolled her eyes as she tossed the fabric sample to the side, then picked up the wedding catalog once again. He approached her with the leatherbound book, then sat down across from her on the floor. Reaching for his glass of wine he’d abandoned earlier in the evening, he took a sip.

  “Are ya?”

  She looked up at him, clearly perturbed.

  “If you call me a witch again, I am going to staple your lips shut.”

  “Spoken like a true witch.” He winked, then chuckled.

  “Speaking of being true, I don’t know where you’ve been or what you’ve been doing lately, Angelo, but you�
��re always busy and secretive about it now. I had to beg you to come over tonight and help me figure some of this wedding stuff out, and you’ve done nothin’ during this visit but look at my television, mess with my records, eat my food, drink my wine, smoke my weed, and now jumble with my books and taunt me. I want to settle some of this stuff. Now come on, stop getting side-tracked and help me.”

  He sighed and closed the book, but not before noting what page he’d last been on.

  “All right, so uh, I’ve been workin’ on something. That’s why I’ve been gone. Busy.”

  She handed him a different catalog.

  “Look through there and let’s figure out what you, Tony, your cousins and brothers are wearin’ to the wedding.” He nodded and began flipping through it. “So, what have you been working on?”

  “Well, for one, I’ve been getting a jumpstart on lookin’ at different places for us to live. We could stay in my spot in Manhattan for a bit, or here in Harlem, or we could move upstate.” He shrugged. My grandmother wants to be close to me, so she’s finally being more reasonable about moving.”

  Andrea nodded.

  “That’s good, I’m glad to hear it. I worry about her living over there. The neighborhood is getting so bad.”

  “Yeah.” He ran his hand along his jaw. “So, I’m uh, thinking of opening a gun range. Training people. There’s a lot involved, but I think I can swing it. I’ve been thinking of buying a car dealership, too.” The woman’s eyes grew big and a smile crept across her face. “There’s an older cat, Pete. He’s retiring and wants to sell his business. I’ve bought like three cars from him over the past few years. So I would just be buyin’ it, stoppin’ in, hiring people to run it how I want, but it would make me feel secure, ya know? Money coming in. Add to our nest egg. As far as the gun range, that’s a bigger undertaking. It’s lucrative though, and I’d enjoy that. I think I can do it.”

  “I think you can do it, too. You’re an excellent teacher, a great instructor. Thankfully, it’s been a long time since I’ve gotten any letters or black flowers, so whoever was harassing me has probably moved on. Anyway, I still am glad that I know how to handle a gun, thanks to you. You made it so easy for me, Angelo. And you were patient. That’s a definite plus.”

  He fought a smile. He hated how her compliments always made him happy. Getting softer because of this broad… She’s ruining me. I guess I like being ruined… just a little bit. “So yeah, so you think that’s a good idea? I was gonna surprise you, but I could see you were thinking I was blowin’ you off, or maybe runnin’ around town with another broad, but it’s because I’ve been trying to get all of this straightened out.”

  “It’s a wonderful reason to get blown off for.” She chuckled as she crawled over to him, gave him a juicy, sweet, peck, then went back to perusing her catalogs. He looked back down at the one she’d handed him.

  “Okay, how about these? That white tuxedo there looks pretty good.” He handed her the catalog.

  Her brows knitted as if the task of studying the garment required careful, and meticulous consideration. As if she were in the throes of brain surgery. It took all of him to not laugh. She just looked so serious, as if it were a life or death situation. One wrong move and KA-BLOOM!

  I don’t give a shit about any of this. I just want the girl. Just give me Andrea.

  “Okay, good choice. Everyone will have to get measured.”

  “Yeah, everyone in the family knows we’re getting married. So many weddings… Geesh. We’ve all got the routine down pat. I was in my brothers’ weddings, too, despite us not exactly being close. We’re there for each other where it counts. Have you decided on who’s walking you down the aisle yet? My Uncle Vinny volunteered. Oh, that reminds me!” He snapped his fingers. “My cousin Fonzo who I told ya could get a band for us is out of the wedding.”

  “Why?” The woman looked genuinely surprised.

  “Because he doesn’t approve of Italians and Blacks romantically co-mingling, shit like that. I let him have it.” He shrugged. “Fuck him. Now, back to this book.” He picked it up and shook it at her.

  “Put that book back. You don’t understand anything in there anyway.” She reached for her glass of wine and sipped.

  He flipped back to the page he’d been on. “It says here that this love spell involves the use of herbs, flowers and chocolates.”

  “It’s herbs.”

  “That’s what tha hell I said.”

  “No, you didn’t. You said herbs. You don’t pronounce the ‘h.’ It’s silent. It’s not marijuana!” She cackled.

  “Well, whaddaya know? The witch is also an English teacher! Maybe you could tutor me in my shaggin’ wagon, Samantha from Bewitched!” She sucked her teeth and turned away. “So where was I? Oh, yeah… here it is. It says you could also make a tea, but according to this here, you use sugar and chocolate, a nice glass or mug, and—”

  “Angelo, if you don’t stop.” She chortled. “What’s gotten into you? You still call me a witch, you told me that what I do creeps you out, you never want to touch my items because of that. Now all of a sudden, you’re Mr. Librarian by day and Merlin the magician by night.”

  “I want you to perform a love spell on me.” He crossed his ankles, then lit a cigarette just as cool as he pleased.

  “Now why would I perform a love spell on you, when we’re already together and doing fine?”

  “I heard on this show the other day, some late night thing, that if married couples do love spells, then it will help them be more in tune with each other. Now, I don’t think what you and I have between us is fair.”

  “Fair?” She scrunched up her nose. “What are you talking about?”

  “You can dig around inside my head, figure out stuff, have your little freaky dreams and shit, but I—”

  “I can’t dig around inside your head!” She laughed. “Right now, I have no idea what’s going on in that noddle of yours.”

  “All I know is that I can only go by observations with you. Now, don’t get me wrong, I think I understand ya pretty well. I know when you’re upset, happy, in need, things like that, but I can’t dig as deep as you. That’s what I mean by it’s not fair.”

  “I’m a witch, remember?” She stuck out her tongue and rolled her eyes, making him laugh. “So, I can do shit that you can’t. What do you think about these flowers right here?” She held up the catalog showing a large bouquet of pink and white roses.

  “Eh, it’s okay. Kinda ho hum.”

  She grimaced, clearly not in love with his answer. Licking her finger, she turned the page.

  “So, I just want to, I don’t know, see just once what it feels like to be able to tap into someone like that. The lady said on the show that a love spell can help ya with that.”

  “Are you puttin’ me on, Angelo? This isn’t funny. You’re making fun of me, aren’t you?”

  “No, I’m serious.” He looked back down at the book, then passed it to her. “Do that one. It doesn’t seem too eerie. I could go for that.” Boz Scaggs’, ‘Lowdown’ started to play on the radio and he began to tap his knee to the beat.

  She looked rather skeptical, then began to read the page he’d turned to.

  “So, according to this spell, I’d use cinnamon, chocolate – preferably cocoa, vanilla and salt…” When she was finished, she got up from the floor, book in hand, and made her way to her kitchen. He rose on his knees, craning his neck so he could watch her in action.

  “Can I come in?” he finally hollered, frustrated that he couldn’t see her every move.

  “Nope.” She giggled. “I’m just getting the ingredients, honey.” She opened several cabinets then began placing items in a big bowl. Then, she spread out a purple satin cloth on the floor, and grabbed a large clear drinking glass. “Okay, so I actually have done this spell before, but it’s been a while. It was for a client. There are different spells you can say to go with it. She was trying to attract a lover, so I don’t want to do that one.”

/>   “You’re damn straight you don’t want to do that one.” He burned with jealousy at the thought of it, but this only made the woman put her hand on her hip and laugh. He puffed on his cigarette, watching the witch work her magic.

  “So, first, I will chop up this chocolate bar I had left over from lunch, then I’m going to put it in this glass. Chocolate is a symbol for love.”

  “Yeah? Then what?”

  “Then I’m gonna add just a little salt. The salt is for protection. Salt is often used in spells to keep bad energy away, but it can help protect a love spell from interference.” She put a pinch of the salt into the cup. “Next, I’m going to add this cinnamon. Cinnamon is used in a lot of spells, Angelo. It symbolizes passion… I think we have plenty of that already,” she winked at him, “but I’ll add it in, anyway. Now, we have pure vanilla.” She held up a little bottle. “I use this when baking my cookies and cupcakes that you’ve been scarfing down lately, so we’ll add a few drops of this, too.”

  “What’s the vanilla do?”

  “It’s tied to symbolizing sexuality, sensuality, and romance. Now, this next step you may find a bit unusual. I know that this is chocolate in flavor, but I am going to put my own spin on this. I’m going to add some steeped tea.” She went to fix a cup of herbal tea, then poured some of it into the mixture, making it much lighter in appearance now. It was a pretty amber color, like honey. “The tea is for longevity of love. Showing it can stand the test of time. Finally, we’re going to use a bit of warm milk. Milk is associated with marriage, fertility, childbirth, things like that.”

  He watched the woman make what he felt was nothing more than a warm hot cocoa drink with a twist. He fought his skepticism, but it was a tall order. His sweetheart looked rather grave as she tore off purple and red rose petals from a flower arrangement she’d had in a vase in her kitchen, then stirred the concoction clockwise, blending all of the ingredients together. What he failed to tell her was that he knew how important her work was to her, and he never wanted her to feel that just because he didn’t understand it, he didn’t support her. After viewing that strange broadcast one late evening, the idea struck him. He was going to ask her to do this, regardless of his own disbelief in such things.