The Hot Spot

by Niobia Bryant

  Zaria sighed and studied the white tips of her acrylic nails before she cut cold eyes at him. “Immaturity is fun sometimes, and I like to have fun. Now, disrespectful was you coming in here to speak to me, bringing along the woman with whom you cheated on me. That’s disrespectful. What you should have done was act like you didn’t even see me and take your new baby bride, get her a high chair, and go sit your ass down. You definitely shouldn’t drag her up in my face. Clear?”

  “Umph, umph umph,” the customer said, openly staring.

  Ned frowned at the man before he grabbed his wife’s arm and turned to walk away.

  Zaria rolled her eyes so hard she was glad they didn’t get stuck. “Sucka mother—”

  “Shut you mouth,” the customer teased, pointing at her with a big toothy grin.

  Zaria laughed, reaching out to swat his hand playfully before moving down to the other end of the bar.

  After fixing a few more drinks and cleaning her area, Zaria let her manager know she was taking a break. She headed for the restroom, crossing the foyer and thinking of the night she had first crossed paths with Kaleb. She smiled a bit at the time they’d shared. It hadn’t ended well, but she didn’t regret having Kaleb in her life for even such a brief time. He was a remarkable man who’d treated her well and shared some moments of her life that the next man would find damn hard to equal or top.

  She missed him.

  She craved him.

  She loved him.

  Setting him free had been the hardest thing she’d ever had to do in her life.

  As she felt tears well up yet again, she rushed into the bathroom and into one of the stalls, taking a seat on the closed lid of the commode.

  If she had ever thought of getting married again and having more children, she would have gladly set aside their age difference and been the woman Kaleb was looking for. Of course, he would always be chasing her by more than a decade in age, but Zaria knew that if she hadn’t been so wounded by her divorce, she could have easily been “the one” for Kaleb. Easily.

  Needing a distraction, she pulled her cell phone from the deep pocket of her slacks and called her twins. “Hey, Ma,” Meena said. “I’m putting you on speaker.”

  “Hey, Ma!” Neema said.

  “What y’all doing?” she asked, forcing the sadness and the hint of tears from her voice.

  “We just came back from buying our books for school,” she said.

  “Need any money?” she asked.

  “No, Daddy sent it,” Neema said, with her slight lisp.

  Zaria was proud of her will not to clue her kids in to just how much she detested their father. That she wouldn’t do because it didn’t benefit them to be hurt and stressed. “Good, that’s good.”

  “Something wrong, Ma?” Meena asked, sounding like she was smacking on something.

  “Just wanted to talk to my girls and let you know how much I love y’all and miss you and I’m proud of you,” she said softly, closing her eyes as she remembered the day she first brought them home.

  “We love you too.”

  “You should come see us. We got the furniture for our apartment. It looks good,” Neema said.

  Zaria sat up straighter. “Maybe I will,” she said, wanting to see her girls.

  “Good. But, Ma, no clubbing or hanging out on campus this time. We just want our mom, you know?” Meena asked, her voice soft and a little hesitant like she worried about hurting Zaria’s feelings.

  Zaria frowned. “I was just having fun, and your friends liked me.”

  “Yes, and you were the talk of the campus for weeks after that, Ma,” Neema drawled. “It’s not fun having boys talking about how good your mama drops it like it’s hot. O-kay?”

  “O-kay!” Meena agreed.

  “You were voted MILF of the year last semester.”

  “MILF?” Zaria asked.

  One of the twins sighed—she couldn’t tell which one.

  “Ma, MILF stands for ‘mother I’d like to . . .’”

  “Like to what?” Zaria asked.

  One of the twins whispered the term.

  Zaria gasped in shock at first and then arched her brow. “I was?”

  “Ma!” they both exclaimed.

  Zaria bit her bottom lip as she heard the commode in the stall next to her flush. “I guess that is embarrassing.”

  “Completely,” Meena said.

  At the thought of spending time with her daughters, Zaria felt her spirits brighten a little bit. It would be a nice distraction from the heartache that took her completely by surprise when falling in love again wasn’t even penciled on her agenda.

  I love you, Zaria.

  Her heart literally ached as she remembered his admission of love. She’d never wanted to break his heart.

  As long as you both are on the same page.

  Guilt filled her because she should have heeded his mother’s gentle warning.

  “You’re not bringing your newest boy toy, are you, because we want you to stay here with us,” Neema said.

  “No, no boy toys. Just me and my girls,” she promised.

  “Good,” they both said.

  CHAPTER 10

  One month later

  Kaleb was determined to get his ish together.

  His relationship with his crew was back on target. The lightening of his dark mood plus a nice bonus in their weekly paycheck had shown the men his apologies. They still worked hard but now it was back to feeling like a sport instead of a chore.

  His business was booming, and he started making plans to actually sell some of his own dairy products in a small store he wanted to open on the ranch. Plenty of dairy farmers did it, but now he felt he was ready to tackle yet another aspect of his business.

  He was back with the rest of his family at Holtsville Baptist Church and was spending the afternoons with them, enjoying good food and a great family.

  He thought of Zaria one less moment as each day passed until he knew eventually she would mean no more to him than any of his other exes. At least he hoped so. He still loved her, but he was resigned to the fact that they weren’t meant to be and it was more than just their age difference.

  Kaleb looked at the brick town house as he pulled into the driveway behind a charcoal-gray two-door Miata with the license tag LEGAL. The sun was just starting to fade as he left his SUV and made his way up the few steps to the black front door to knock. He felt a little nervous but flexed his shoulders in the dark denims he wore with an oatmeal suede blazer and crisp white cotton shirt.

  The door opened and Heather appeared, stepping back behind the door as she opened it wider. “Hi, Kaleb,” she said with a soft dimpled smile. Her petite figure looked pretty in a deep peach, soft cashmere wrap dress.

  He bent down to press a kiss to her cheek before stepping inside her home for the first time. It suited her, with soft and feminine touches in muted tones that made her home warm. No fuchsia or gold or leopard prints.

  “I was very surprised when you called me yesterday,” she said, folding her small but cur vaceous frame onto the sofa. “I thought you threw my number away.”

  Kaleb took a seat on the other end of the sofa, unbuttoning his blazer first. “Actually I did, since I was seeing someone, but that didn’t work out. But I remember you and remembered your name and looked you up,” he admitted, crossing his ankle over his knee.

  “Thank goodness for phonebooks and such,” she said with a little laugh that seemed restrained.

  Nothing at all like Zaria when she flung her head back and laughed freely until she cried and clutched her belly.

  Stop it, Kaleb.

  He looked around her home and spotted a small piano in the corner just off the large front bay windows.

  She followed his gaze and then stood. “Actually, I wanted to play a little something for you before we went to dinner,” she said, easing past his legs and her glass coffee table to move over to the piano to take a seat on the bench.

  He turned on his sea
t to face her as she began to play a smooth jazzy beat that he soon recognized as a Miles Davis tune. He was impressed by her skill. She handled the keys with power and authority, still able to bring forth sweet and haunting tunes.

  But as he placed his head in his hand and closed his eyes to take in the music, all he could see was an image of Zaria in her short gold skirt and heels, fidgeting in her seat and eventually falling asleep on his shoulder and snoring just as loudly as a man. What had irked his nerves then made him smile now.

  When he finally opened his eyes, Heather had stopped playing and was watching him with a twinkle in her eye. “Are you sleeping?” she asked playfully.

  “Nooo, no. That was excellent,” he said, rising to his feet. “I was just remembering something from the past.”

  “Who introduced a dairy farmer to jazz?” she asked, moving over to collect her coat to hand to him.

  “My dad,” he said, holding her coat for her.

  Heather touched his hand as she looked over her shoulder up at him. “Maybe I’ll get to play for him sometime,” she offered.

  “Actually, I thought maybe we could have dinner at my parents’. If that’s cool with you,” he offered, making a last-minute decision.

  “That’s more than fine,” Heather said as they walked out the door. “I bet your mama can cook too.”

  Kaleb held her elbow lightly as they descended the few steps. “Sure can,” he said with a huge smile.

  He helped her into the passenger seat of his SUV.

  “And don’t you worry—parents always love me,” she said with a wink.

  Kaleb shut the door and came around to climb into the driver’s seat. He turned his satellite radio to a jazz station and pointed the SUV toward Holtsville. A slight drizzle began to fall, and the combination of the cozy interior and the sultry music lulled them into a comfortable zone. They talked a little. They laughed a little. They shared things about each other.

  But truthfully, in the back of his mind, although Heather said all the right things and seemed to be just what he needed for his happily-ever-after, his thoughts were filled with Zaria. He was unfairly comparing the two women.

  Kaleb knew he was wrong.

  He was grateful when he finally turned the SUV off the main highway onto the long and curving asphalt road. He saw Heather looking intently out the window at the sizeable brick two-story structure with dozens of clear glass-paned windows. The manicured lawns. The freshly painted shutters and flower boxes. It was a beautiful and stately home, and he was proud of his parents’ accomplishments.

  Kaleb parked in front of the house in the row of cars belonging to his family. “Don’t be nervous,” he said, knowing his clan could be overwhelming. Kaleb wondered if he’d made the right choice in bringing her.

  “I’m not,” she said with perky confidence.

  Shrugging, he jogged up the stairs beside her and then stepped forward to push the door open. His parents rarely ever locked the front door.

  The raucous noise of family reached them as Kaleb hung up Heather’s coat and escorted her to the family room, where the entire clan was watching his niece Kadina and his sister-in-law Garcelle playing a dancing game on the Wii system.

  Everyone waved, almost distractedly, as they focused back on Kadina and Garcelle, who eventually made a wrong move and lost. Still the stepmother and stepdaughter team laughed good-naturedly as they gave each other a high five.

  Kaleb led Heather around the room and made speedy introductions. Everyone greeted her warmly, and he could see their curiosity about her. It wasn’t long before his father and brothers rose to corner him, while his mother patted the seat on the sofa next to her.

  Kael shoved his hands into his pockets and rocked back and forth on his heels as he eyed his son.

  Kade crossed his arms over his chest and looked down at Kaleb in disbelief.

  Kahron chuckled.

  Kaeden rattled his inhaler in his pocket like most men rattled change.

  Kaleb held his hands out. “What?” he asked. “Boy, where in the devil did you dig that girl up from?” Kael asked.

  “Oh, man, come on. Y’all acting like I went to an escort service. Like I can’t get a woman. Come on, dude, don’t play me,” he spouted.

  “So you’re over Zaria?” Kade asked, almost like a second father to all of his younger brothers.

  “Excuse me, but I don’t think it’s polite to be in a huddle talking about a woman while I have another here with me,” Kaleb said, easing his strong and broad figure through Kade and Kahron to head into the kitchen.

  Garcelle and Bianca were taking heaping dishes from the kitchen into the dining room. “Hola, Kaleb,” Garcelle said before disappearing with a bowl of steamed cabbage.

  Bianca gave him a nod, her hands full with a platter of fried catfish and homemade corn bread. His stomach growled as he moved over to the fridge to look inside, more for habit’s sake than really wanting anything.

  When the kitchen door swung open, he turned to find his mother standing in the kitchen watching him closely. “I am starving, Ma. The fish looks good,” he said.

  “Kaleb Alexander Strong, why did you bring that poor woman here?” she asked him, coming around the island to lean back against it and look up at her son.

  “What do you mean, Ma?” he asked, turning again to open the fridge as a clear diversion.

  Lisha began to snap her fingers. “What is it gay men call women they use to hide that they’re gay? What is it?” she asked, tapping her chin as she looked up at the ceiling.

  Kaleb closed the fridge and turned to face her. “A beard.”

  Lisha snapped her fingers soundly one last time. “That’s right. A beard. Kaleb, that woman is your . . . your . . .”

  “Ma, you know I’m not gay,” he drawled.

  “But you are pretending to be something you’re not . . . and to your family,” she finished softly in disapproval.

  Kaleb shifted where he stood.

  “Any fool can see that you still care for Zaria, regardless of whether you’ll be together. Your heart is full and until it’s empty—or at least emptier—you don’t have room in it for someone else . . . especially a woman like Heather who is ready to settle down, baby.”

  Kaleb frowned deeply.

  “When it comes to matters of the heart—yours and others—you have to be fair or karma can and will bite you deep in the ass, Kaleb,” Lisha warned.

  Kaleb nodded in understanding, welcoming his mother’s wisdom and the kiss she pressed to his cheek.

  Zaria was done moping.

  Any spare time not spent with her daughters or working, she spent thinking about Kaleb. Wondering if he was back on the prowl and imagining him with a dozen faceless women who would be more than happy to claim the spot of his woman. And again, just like the weeks after her divorce, her life was on hold.

  She hadn’t been on a date.

  She spent her days off in the house draped in dreary sweats and flipping through cable channels.

  She hadn’t even gotten a number to add to her drawer.

  Nothing.

  Her life was on definite pause, and Zaria was ready to push PLAY.

  She checked her appearance in the mirror, loving her fitted jeans and thigh-high boots she wore with a faux fur over her turtleneck. She added a few rhinestone bracelets and a long chain with an amulet before she grabbed an oversized black bag with lots of metal buckles and headed out the door. October in South Carolina didn’t bring on the chill like the eastern states, but it wasn’t exactly Florida either when the sun wasn’t shining high in the sky. As soon as it dipped, so did the temperature. Zaria felt chilled to the bone as she rushed out to her car and hurried inside. She slid in a Best of the ’80s old-school rap CD that reminded her of her high school years and headed out.

  She moved in her seat as she listened to the hits by the Fat Boys, Loe Moe Dee, Roxanne Shanté, MC Shan, Big Daddy, Slick Rick, Doug E. Fresh, and Biz Markie. By the time she reached her destination,
she was in a definite party mood, parking her car outside the club. Looking for the cars of the coworkers she was supposed to meet there, she used her cell to call them.

  “Lashaunda? Where y’all at?” she asked.

  “Turning into the parking lot right now.”

  “A’ight.” Zaria flipped the phone closed and climbed out of her VW, holding the straps of her pocketbook on the bend of her elbow as she locked her car. Turning, she spotted Lashaunda’s Chevy Caprice with the colorful Frosted Flakes car wrap and rims that had the car riding higher than most other vehicles on the road.

  She walked over to her coworkers carefully, as the dirt-packed yard had random rocks. Lashaunda and Peaches were just climbing out of the car in matching velour bodysuits and thigh-high boots that only reached just below their knees because both were heavily built. Lawd, Zaria thought, giving Peaches’ three rolls around her middle a definite side-eye.

  Zaria was thick on the bottom herself, and she held no discrimination against a plus-sized beauty who knew how to snatch everything together with style like Mo’Nique, but pushing everything into a catsuit with no sign of a girdle was dicey at best.

  “This club be off the chain, Ms. Zaria,” Peaches said, flashing two diamond-studded gold teeth.

  As soon as they paid their fee, Zaria left them behind to hit the dance floor at the sound of a reggae joint blaring against the walls. When she felt a hand at her waist, Zaria looked over her shoulder but frowned at the skinny braided young man dancing with her. He looked to be no more than eighteen. Zaria liked to date younger men but not those young enough to still be babysat. She turned and danced back from him, putting distance between them big enough for two more people to fit in.

  He lifted a blunt to his lip, the lit end flashing in the dimly lit club, before he released a stream of thick gray smoke heavy enough to set off a fire alarm—if the club had one. That made her rise up on the tips of her high-heeled boots to look for a rear entrance. That was lacking too.

  She kept coughing and pretending to gag and eventually the baby gangsta was dancing away from her, his braids swinging back and forth across his dingy racing jacket. As Zaria continued to dance and really took a good look at her surroundings, she saw nothing but younger men in sneakers and oversized jeans. It was a toss-up on which side of the law they dwelled. Smoke filled the air, making everything two feet below the ceiling look like Los Angeles smog.