I smiled as I answered. “Hello.”
“Hi, is this Meredith?”
“It is.”
“It’s Anthony Ford.”
I leaned back in my office chair and crossed my legs. I’d thought long and hard about this. Yes, I was flirting, and even contemplating doing something with him. But as long as I never crossed the line between thinking about doing and doing, I would be fine. And I would bear no guilt when it was time to fix things with Trent.
“Hello, Anthony. How are you doing today?”
“I’m doing well. Better now that I’m talking to you. How are you?” His voice was heavy with seduction.
The funny part is that, while he was handsome, I had no real physical attraction to him. I think it might have been the age difference. But the fact that my mother loved him so made me overlook that small issue.
“I’m well,” I replied.
“Thanks for the conversation the other day. It was nice to just decompress and kinda forget about work for a minute,” he said.
“Well, it was my pleasure.”
He hesitated, then said, “So, look, are you busy tonight?”
That caused me to sit up.
He didn’t waste any time.
“I ask because I’m going to a reception this evening and the mayor will be there and it would be nice if he could meet you since they plan to make a decision on the PR contract next week.”
I grimaced and shifted in my chair. I didn’t want to put my firm out there like that, so I had no desire to really meet the mayor.
“Oh, that sounds nice, but I have a full day.”
“Oh. Well, if you change your mind, the reception is at seven. It should end about nine. I’ll text you the address just in case you change your mind.”
“Okay,” I said.
AT 8:45, I DIALED Anthony’s number.
“Hey, you,” I said when he picked up. “I had all kinds of issues at work but if I’m not too late, I’d love to swing by the reception.”
I could hear the disappointment in his voice. “Bummer. Things have just about wrapped up.”
“Awww, are you still at the hotel?” I asked.
“I am. But most people have headed out. I was just going to go to the bar and have a drink while I finished up some paperwork.”
“A drink sounds perfect,” I said. “I’ll be there in fifteen minutes.” Maybe if I got a little liquor in his system, he would freely share information.
“I’ll be here.”
Twenty minutes later, I walked into the hotel bar area and immediately spotted Anthony sitting at a table in the back, looking through a stack of papers.
“Hey,” he said, greeting me as I approached his table. He stood and kissed me on the cheek. “Ummm, you smell good.”
“Jimmy Choo’s Illicit,” I said, flashing a flirtatious grin.
“Look at you being a naughty girl.”
“Who, me?” I could tell he was enjoying my flirting. I wondered if my mother still flirted with him. I shook away that thought. Why was she always invading my headspace?
We talked a little about the event and when he brought up a project he was working on for a new community youth center, I saw my opening to get personal, especially since he was on his third drink.
“So, you mentioned the two kids. Are you planning to have any more?”
He hesitated, as if he was unsure how much to share. Finally, he said, “After my first wife died, I never expected to have any more children. But then, I remarried and my wife was in her midforties and desperately wanted a child before it was too late.”
It was obvious it made him uncomfortable to talk about his wife. Still I said, “You don’t see many women these days that hit their forties with no children.”
“I know. She said God just hadn’t blessed her and it was like she was obsessed with getting pregnant. Even though she was an amazing mother to my son, I think she felt incomplete at not being able to give birth to a child of her own.”
I smiled because it was the only thing I could do to keep from crying.
He rubbed his temples like the drinks were getting to him. “I’d better slow down.” He pushed his glass away. “But enough about me. Tell me a little about yourself. Where are you from? How long have you been here?” He loosened his tie to get comfortable.
“Well, what you see is what you get. I’m new to the Atlanta area.” I decided against giving him any real information in case he decided to look me up. “In addition to PR, I’m working on my first novel.”
“Nice. My son is heavily into books. In fact he’s getting his master’s in American literature. He’s one of those career students.”
I laughed.
Anthony and I sat and talked for another hour. I told him more lies about me. I felt like I was swimming in a cesspool of lies. He didn’t bring up his wife anymore and I didn’t ask.
But by the end of the night, I was sure about one thing: I couldn’t let my mother get away with her happy re-created life. I wasn’t ready to sleep with her husband—mainly because of Trent—but I wouldn’t leave Atlanta until I found some way to make her pay for the sins of the past.
CHAPTER 26
* * *
When I was growing up, my father had worked hard to make sure that I was loved. Though I had a huge hole in my heart from missing my mother, I had thrived because of his love. If I ever had kids—no, when I had kids—that’s what I planned to emulate.
I’d been sitting in my living room all morning, trying to convince myself that I’d been loved enough. That I didn’t need my mother.
But no matter how I tried to convince myself, my heart wouldn’t buy it. It was probably because I was sitting here, reading more of the letters, reminding myself of just how much I’d missed her growing up.
I imagined what she was doing when I wrote this letter about losing my virginity at seventeen, to Marcus Berry, who then didn’t have two words to say to me the next day. I’d written my mother three letters that week, heartbroken and devastated. And while I was writing, she was probably in New York, gyrating onstage to Mariah’s “Always Be My Baby.”
The thought made me take the stack of letters, stomp over to the kitchen trash, and dump all of them in.
I was standing over the trash, staring at my childhood, when the doorbell rang. I pulled myself together and walked back to the front.
“Who is it?”
“It’s the police!”
My eyebrows scrunched together as I peered out the peephole. I broke out in a huge grin at the sight of my cousin.
I swung open the door. “April, what in the world?”
A gigantic grin spread across her face. “What’s up, cuz?” She was standing there looking like a pregnant pencil.
“I can’t believe you’re here,” was all I could reply.
“And I’m not alone,” she said.
Symone peeked her head from around the corner where she had been standing. “Surprise.”
“What are you guys doing here?” I said, hugging both of them. It wasn’t until I felt the warmth of their bodies that I realized how much I had missed them. Well, April, anyway.
Symone spoke first. “Your cousin was gung ho on coming down here to check on you and of course I couldn’t let her roll solo. We can’t let her give birth to a baby on the side of the road with some farmer that stopped to help.”
“Ha. Ha. Ha,” April said. “But I got to go pee.” She pushed past me and into the condo.
Symone followed her in, looking around the spacious condo. “This is nice. You just creating a whole new life and living it up down here, huh?”
“It was all fully furnished, so it’s not my stuff. It’s one of my friends from college’s place. I didn’t have to do anything but move in.”
She leaned over and picked up a three-thousand-dollar vase. “Hmm, Monet. Your friend has some good taste.”
“Yeah, she does,” I said, taking the vase out of Symone’s hand. “And I don’t have an
y money to replace anything.” I set it back down. “I cannot believe you guys are here,” I repeated.
“Girl, April has been losing her mind,” Symone said, plopping down on the love seat.
April came wobbling out of the bathroom. “Whew,” she said, letting out a loud breath. “I thought I was gonna burst.”
“You look like you are about to pop. I can’t believe Sam let you come,” I said.
“Well, actually he thinks I’m at the doctor.” She giggled as she slid onto the sofa, then struggled to get her feet up on it.
Symone shook her head. “Girl, she’s lying to the man to get away from him because he’s suffocating her. Y’all just take these good men for granted.”
April waved her comment off. “Whatever. I’ll call him later and tell him that I had to come down here for an emergency.”
“Now you’re going to have Sam mad at me,” I replied.
“Do you have some wine?” Symone asked, heading into the kitchen without waiting on a reply.
“There is some Stella Rosa in the refrigerator.”
“Good. Just what I need,” she called out.
I sat down on the other end of the sofa. “So, for real. What are you doing here?” I asked.
April’s demeanor turned serious, as worry covered her face. “For real, I came to check on your behind and all your drama. And I could tell you were thinking nasty thoughts with your stepdaddy, so I came down to talk some sense into you.”
“Would you not say ‘stepdaddy?’ ” I said.
“That’s what he is. Anyway, once I told Symone I was coming she insisted on driving me.”
“Well, don’t worry about me,” I said. “I told you. I’ve got this all under control.”
“I can’t tell.” She huffed and gave me one of those concerned little sister looks. “I’m not only worried about what’s going on here. I’m also concerned about you and Trent. He is miserable.”
“Bitter is more like it.”
I looked up to see Symone leaning against the doorway with a glass of wine in her hand.
They exchanged glances. “Symone said Trent was at church and she thought he was actually crying during altar call,” April said.
“Trent doesn’t cry,” I replied. “And it doesn’t matter anyway. We’re over.” The fact that our conversations had been few and far between had me being overly pessimistic.
“So, you’re done with him,” Symone said. “Like for real?”
I shrugged. “Yeah, I guess so. Trent gave me an ultimatum and you know I don’t do ultimatums. And then, we’ve just grown further apart with me being here.” Of course, my heart didn’t want to believe that it was over, but my head told me it was—at least until I came home. As long as I was in Atlanta dealing with my mom, Trent and I didn’t stand a chance.
Symone was silent as she sat down. “I cannot believe you’re going to let him get away,” she finally muttered.
“Maybe it just isn’t our time,” I said. “Who knows what the future holds.”
“So, you’re just going to sit him on the shelf until you can get to him?” Symone asked.
“I didn’t say all of that. It’s just the whole way he reacted about all of this. It had me rethinking things anyway. Everything happens for a reason.”
Symone pursed her lips like she was deep in thought, but April shook her head. “I refuse to believe that,” she said. “You two were meant for each other. Now how are y’all gonna have these pretty little babies?”
“Girl, I told you I wasn’t about to have any kids anytime soon. That in itself would have been another problem for Trent. So, like I said, it’s all for the best.”
Symone was unusually quiet. I was glad since I wanted to change the subject.
“Any more drama in your life?” I asked her.
She shook her head as she sipped her wine, relaxing as she leaned back. “No, girl. I’m drama-free ever since I cut Paul loose. He moved in with Skeezer-Ho and then she got back with her husband and so she put him out. That’s what he gets. Now I’m just trying to live a drama-free life,” she said.
Drama-free. That’s what I wanted. The problem was, I didn’t know when I would get it.
CHAPTER 27
* * *
Every time I thought I couldn’t feel any more pain, my mother managed to make sure that I did. I was truly beginning to like the obsessed nutjob that Trent was painting me out to be. I felt like I was spiraling in a bottomless, hate-filled pit. And the only thing that would pull me out was revenge.
The funny thing is, the whole time April and Symone were here, I had pushed aside my thoughts of revenge and just had a good time hanging with my girls.
But the minute they hit the road, heading back to Raleigh, I was back to my black hole. And I’d stayed there all week. I’d passed out at work, dehydrated I guess. So I’d been off for the past two days, and bored out of my mind.
Anthony had been out of town, but we’d spoken by phone a few times. I was beginning to feel like I’d drained all the information from him that I was going to get. Same thing with Alex. And so I’d kept my distance all week, which caused the loneliness to set in. And my longing for Trent to intensify.
Trent.
I’d been trying not to think about him. All of my calls and texts this week had gone unanswered.
This morning, he’d finally called. Instead of being happy to talk, we’d ended up arguing again. He’d told me since I “was only thinking about myself,” he was going to do the same and had decided to reenlist. That broke my heart.
I shook off thoughts of Trent and refocused on the issue at hand—following my mother through the mall. Since I was feeling much better, I had wanted to get out of the house. And of course, I’d ended up in front of my mother’s home.
She and Sunny had come out, and oblivious to my car parked across the street, hopped into her car and headed here to the mall.
I was like a zombie as I followed them through the complex, wondering where they were going in their matching hunter-green dresses. Watching them set my heart on fire. When they stepped into the portrait studio, it caused a full-blown inferno. We never took mother-daughter pictures.
That’s because she didn’t want to be your mother.
I pushed aside the voice that had been relentlessly taunting me since I set foot in Atlanta.
They walked up to the counter in the portrait studio and I dipped into Abercrombie & Fitch, which was right next door.
I browsed around, snapped at the saleswoman who asked if I needed help, and, after I felt like my mother and Sunny were in the back to take their pictures, walked back out.
Sure enough, Sarah and Sunny were in the front bay. A couple of people had stopped to watch the photo shoot.
“Aren’t they adorable?” one woman said as I approached the window.
“I can’t wait to do that,” said another pregnant woman as she rubbed her stomach. Her husband pulled her closer.
“Soon,” he said, massaging her belly.
Sunny made funny faces at the camera, which caused my mother to laugh.
If it hadn’t been my mother and my sister, I too would have been enamored with their photo shoot. But right now all I felt was contempt at their picture-perfect life. As soon as the thought entered my head, I reminded myself about Anthony and how he was all too ready to hook up with me. My mother’s life wasn’t as perfect as she wanted everyone to believe.
The pregnant couple walked away. Another lady came and smiled and watched them take pictures.
Sunny looked like a child model as she struck a pose and lit up the room. She was obviously full of personality, and you could tell my mother and the photographer were simply captivated by her.
It made my heart hurt. For a number of reasons. Of course, that she’d taken my life. But at the contempt I felt for her. You weren’t supposed to hate a child. And yet, I hated her.
After Sunny took a round of pictures, my mother scooted in next to her. She sat on the floor
and Sunny sat next to her. The photographer took a few shots. My mother adjusted Sunny’s hair and a tear slid down my face. I wiped it away and promised myself that she would get no more of my tears.
Just as I was about to turn to leave, her eyes locked with mine through the window. She furrowed her brow and lost her smile as she studied me for a minute. I wished that I could read her mind, just glimpse what she was thinking.
Sunny put her hand to my mother’s face, trying to get her attention focused back on the photographer, and my mother smiled. As soon as the lightbulb flashed, she looked back out at me and I took that as my cue.
I walked into the studio.
“Since we’re taking mother-daughter photos, can I join you?” I asked.
The photographer looked confused. Sunny was too busy adjusting her skirt to notice my mother as she jumped up.
“Can you give me a second?” she asked the photographer, who simply nodded.
“What are you doing, Brooke?”
“I’m just trying to get into the mother-daughter picture. Since you know, we never took one. Better late than never, huh?” My sarcasm was on full display.
Her shoulders dipped in exasperation. “What do you want me to say?”
“I don’t know, anything. Something.” I just knew I didn’t want her acting like I was some kind of inconvenience.
“Is it a relationship you want?”
Just the way she said it was like a thousand knives through my heart. “You know what? I don’t want a damn thing from you. I came to Atlanta thinking that I did. I came here hoping for something.” My voice cracked. “But I guess I was just being delusional.”
“I hate that you feel that way but you’ve got to let me explain.” She sighed. “I want to talk to you. Just not here. Not in front of . . .” She looked back over her shoulder at Sunny, who was posing as she tried on a pair of sunglasses.
“Your daughter.” I finished the sentence for her. “You know what? I’m good. You’ve said what you needed to say.”
She wrung her hands in frustration. “I know I’m not handling this the right way, but I do want to talk to you.”
Seeking Sarah Page 14