by Sienna Mynx
With her hair tussled around her head and her blouse gripped in her hand she nodded that he should go and come back. He was worth a second chance.
“You go ahead and I—I’ll get changed into something more, well more appropriate.”
Clayton walked backwards to the door. She knew he could see her hips and sex because the shirt she wore only stopped at her waist. “Don’t worry about changing. I want you to stay just like this.” From behind him his hand sought the doorknob. He opened the door, unable to turn his gaze away from her. But the sweet smile on her face faded. In a flash her world came to a stop. Confused by her visceral reaction he turned. José stood under the arch of the door with a perplexed frown on his face. Due to Clayton’s height that matched José’s, her ex-lover didn’t catch her in a state of half dress. Zephyr was quick to pull her skirt up before José caught glimpse of her.
What is he doing here? Clayton thought José Batista had fallen off the side of the earth along with his baseball career. Fuck, it had been four months since Zephyr said she dumped the loser. Why was he there? And why now, of all times?
José was just about to knock when the door was pulled open. Clayton, the jerk of a neighbor, was the first person he saw. And then he caught a glimpse of Zephyr covering herself. The scene hurt him deeply. He tried not to react with violence. His gut churned when he forced a polite smile to his face, and looked past the man he wanted to murder, to the woman he loved. “Zee? I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have come unannounced.”
“José?” Zephyr said.
She stepped closer as if she didn’t trust her eyes. “What are you doing here?” she asked.
José absorbed her like a sponge. He hadn’t seen her in four long months, and he had little to live off of when it came to remembering her sweet face or the sound of her voice. The idea of her with another man had tortured him many sleepless nights since he lost her. Zephyr was not the woman to sleep around. If she was giving this fool the pleasure, then he must mean a lot to her. And that spelled disaster for his hopes for them.
His gaze cut back to Clayton. What the fuck was he staring at? He was standing in the condo he bought and paid for, for Zephyr. He should kick his ass. For taking his place, and warming her bed, for being the man to her that he never could be. But he had no right. He had no right or justification for his jealousy. So humbly he swallowed it.
It took him thirty minutes in the car to work up the nerve to knock on her door. Now he wished he’d call. What he saw between them was the stuff of his nightmares. “I was in the neighborhood and I thought—”
Clayton refused to let José in. And damn José had never been the odd man out of any situation. Who the fuck was this cat to just roll in and take over? José again fought the demon in him.
Zephyr held her blouse closed. She looked over at Clayton and then José as if she were making a choice. And to his surprise she chose him. “Come in, José,” she said.
With no other choice Clayton stepped aside. He and José exchanged a glare and he walked into her condo.
Zephyr was so shocked to see her ex-lover she forgot the sex she had with Clayton. She had to stop and pick up the opened condom wrapper and keep it in her hand. This was the wrong time for a visit. For weeks he wrote her, even when he got out of rehab and returned to Vancouver with his mother. She wrote him back, but the letters stopped. It hurt. Part of her had held on to hope. But when they stopped communicating she let him go. Tonight was supposed to be about letting him go. So why was he here?
“Can we talk, alone?” José asked. He glanced back at Clayton.
“Clay, I’ll call you okay?” Zephyr mumbled.
Clayton looked like he wanted to object. She was grateful he didn’t. She didn’t need a scene.
“I’m just next door if you need me,” Clayton told her.
She smiled at him. “Thanks. I’ll be okay.”
Clayton nodded and left. José seemed to look less tense when Clayton left.
“You look beautiful, Zee,” he said.
Zephyr realized her appearance and blushed. “Ah, let me get my robe.”
She turned to leave and he touched her arm. “You look really beautiful.” José said.
Zephyr smiled. “Thanks.”
She removed her arm from his hand and escaped to her room. Her stomach was tight and cramping. She swallowed down her nerves. She shed her shirt and dropped her skirt to put on her robe that reached past her knees. When she returned José was seated on her sofa.
He stood when he saw her. He looked good. He’d lost a few pounds. But from what she could see of him, muscle replaced the weight. He was still the athletic, fit man she once knew. He wore a navy blue shirt and jeans, with a matching dark blue cap on his head. He removed it in a gentlemanly fashion, revealing that his hair had grown a bit on top and was curly. The trimmed beard along his jaw was new. It connected with his sideburns and mustache. It made him look seasoned, and sexier. Maybe because Clayton teased her body she found herself aroused after one look from José. Or it could just be the chemistry between them that was never a problem for her. It was José who had to have other women to satisfy his lust.
“I’m surprised to see you. I thought you were in Vancouver with your mom?” Zephyr asked.
“I was. I’m about to open a gym here,” he told her.
“Really? That’s exciting,” she said. She sat on the sofa chair across from him.
José sat down. “Yes. I plan to do it with my brothers. Meeting with people about starting a chain here if we get the right investors. My name isn’t exactly a popular one in Miami now.”
“Then why come back?” she asked.
“It’s home,” he joked, but she heard the pain in his voice. She hated the media for roasting him. She couldn’t even watch ESPN any longer. Every night they speculated on him, and it had been four damn months. None of the blogs gave him a break. And even worse were the women who were now coming out filing fake paternity suits. His lawyers were shutting them down left and right but it hurt Zephyr deeply. She feared that one of them might actually turn out to be true.
“I guess that means you’ll be between here and Canada?” she fished for more information.
“No. I was serious when I said home is here now. Vancouver is too cold. Remember?”
Zephyr smiled. She remembered how much he hated the cold. He said Dominicans weren’t built for such harsh weather. Give him tropics and sunshine. Stripes strolled out of Zephyr’s room. Earlier she had locked her cat up in the room to give her and Clayton privacy. Mr. Stripes stopped at the sight of José. Zephyr watched as her baby walked straight to him. José picked him up and stroked his spine to allow Stripes to sit on his leg. “He remembers me?”
“How could he forget? He loved you,” Zephyr said.
José’s gaze shifted to Zephyr. “So how have you been? I see your neighbor is still around.”
“His name is Clayton,” she replied.
“Are you seeing him?” he asked.
“That’s none of your business. But yes I am,” she told him.
“It looks serious,” he mumbled.
“You didn’t write or call. Why did you come here? Why?”
José sighed. “It wasn’t enough. Your letters were friendly, Zee, but I could tell. You were moving on. It hurt. So I had to step back. Make sure I finished the program and got solid. Not that it can change what I put you through. But I had to work on my crap.”
“I would have written you. We could still remain friends,” Zephyr said.
He smiled. “I know. Thing is I don’t want your sympathy. I want you. I still do. I never needed friends—it was friends that led me down the wrong path.”
“I still don’t understand.”
“My program. They have this thing. It’s a reward system. The first year of your recovery is hard. You get these coins to mark your progress. The last platinum coin is the biggest reward after making it a year. But if you reach a milestone the date is celebrated.”
&n
bsp; “Milestone?” she asked.
“They have you set your own milestone dates. I set mine and I’ve reached it. I get the copper and it’s kind of a big deal.”
Zephyr didn’t fully understand but she nodded. “Congratulations.”
“You can invite friends and family to the event. I wanted to invite you. Since Mom and the rest are in Canada.”
“Oh, really?” she stumbled over her reply. “Well? I’m flattered.”
José lowered the cat. “I thought it would be nice if you’d come and see what I’ve done. But if you’re busy it’s okay. You can bring, well you can bring your boyfriend if you want.”
Zephyr chuckled. “I can bring Clayton?”
José’s jaw twitched. “Sure, it’s open to anyone that’s a friend or friend of a friend. I just really would like for you to be there.”
“I’ll come, José,” she said. “Alone.”
He reached inside his jacket and removed the invite. He put it down on the coffee table. “Thanks, Zee. It means a lot,” He rose and so did she. He started to walk to the door but stopped. He looked at her. “Zee, I have no right to say this, and you can tell me to go to hell but—”
Zephyr stared at him.
José struggled with his words. “You deserve the best. Please don’t sell yourself short, or settle for the first dude that comes around.”
“Good night, José,” Zephyr said in a firm and final manner.
There was no opening. Nothing. All he could do was leave. He turned and did just that. And when she closed the door on him he wanted to force it back open. Make her hear him. Yell at her for not giving him just one more chance. Beg her to please give him another chance to prove himself. Fall to her feet and plead his case. Instead he dropped his head and went to his car, tormented over how much she had changed without him. He used to be so cocky when it came to her love for him. He didn’t even try to protect her, or her feelings. How could he ever say the man next door wasn’t worthy of her?
Inside his car he sat and waited for the pain in his gut to ease. He eventually settled on hope. After all she didn’t toss his feelings aside altogether. She said she would come. It was a start. He drove off.
Zephyr leaned with her back against the door, arms folded. She saw the invite on the coffee table. It beckoned her. She walked over to the sofa and sat down. She stared at it. After a few minutes she picked up the envelope. Inside she found a folded note, which she removed. There were directions and his name. She was very proud of him, happy even, but she wasn’t sure she had much more to offer.
Then she thought of Clay. She set the invite down and reached for the phone. She dialed Clayton.
“Hello?” he answered on the first ring.
“Clay, it’s Zee.”
“Hi, sweetheart.”
“I’m sorry about earlier. I’m really sorry. I didn’t know José was coming over,” she apologized.
“Oh? Hey? Don’t apologize. I understand, looks like you two needed to talk.”
Zephyr smiled. “Thanks for being so understanding. So sweet. I had a good time tonight.”
“I take it he’s gone? I can come back over?”
“Ah, no. I think I’m going to call it a night. A rain check maybe?” she asked.
Clayton sighed, and Zephyr could hear the disappointment in his voice. The man had to have the patience of a saint. But if she invited him back in she’d be thinking of José all night. That wasn’t fair to either of them.
“Sure, Zee, call me okay?” Clayton asked.
“Okay, g’night.”
“Night.”
Zephyr hung up and fell back into the sofa cushions. She picked up the envelope and stared at it.
**
Holding her purse in front of her, wearing an all white tea dress with a squared bodice, her hair was pressed flat and tucked behind her ears. Zephyr stepped up the cracked steps and then braved the final walk to the open doors. The center wasn’t at all what she thought.
The place she checked him into was more of a resort than a rehab. She figured it’d be more of the same. It wasn’t. This place was in Opa Locka. She walked into the small foyer and glanced around. The bulletin board of announcements caught her eye. It was a community center that also had after school programs, teen mother support groups, career development classes, GED classes, and a boys and girls club. Why would José come here? Were times that hard? Had he hit rock bottom?
“Hi.”
She turned and a short black woman smiled at her. She looked to be in her mid thirties. She wore a t-shirt advertising the name of the center and jeans. Her hair was slicked to her head with gel, and she had the kindest set of soulful brown eyes. Zephyr smiled at her. “Hi.”
“I’m Candace.”
“I’m Zephyr,” she said and shook her hand.
“Who you with? I ain’t neva seen you before,” Candace asked.
“I’m a friend of José Batista,” she said.
The woman’s eyes stretched. “You must be Zephyr! Oh my goodness! Tyrone! Tyrone!” she rushed off. Zephyr frowned. Taken aback she looked around and saw most ignored her. A few went inside and found a seat. She didn’t see José anywhere.
Candace returned with an older black gentleman who had graying hair. He wore thick spectacles, and had dark clear skin with pearly white teeth.
He smiled. “Hi, I’m Tyrone, José’s sponsor.” He extended his hand.
Zephyr relaxed. “Hello, nice to meet you.”
“Same here, we’ve heard so much about you.”
“José talks about you with the kids all the time.” Candace gushed, “I’m the director of the community center, Candace Brown.”
“Nice to meet you too, Candace.” Zephyr’s brows drew together in confusion. “Kids? What kids?”
“José volunteers with the boys club. He’s building a baseball field in the neighborhood, and starting a little league program.”
Zephyr stepped back. Her José was volunteering? He used to laugh and complain at her going to the animal shelter. Refused to go with her to help the shut in animals, even made nasty comments about them dying soon anyway.
“Really? He is.”
Candace nodded. “He just showed up here. Said he wanted to join our group. He could’ve gone to any of those fancy places, but he came here. We protect him though. Keep it from the media and them nasty paparazzi. He’s a good guy. He and Tyrone painted the entire gym last weekend. I’m so glad you came for him today.”
“I, ah—”
“Zephyr?” José said. He walked up from behind her. Everyone looked up as he approached. José’s smile brightened his face, and made his eyes glisten. “You came.”
“Hi,” she said. She accepted his kiss to her cheek. He looked to Tyrone and Candace. “What have they been telling you?”
“How much we love you here!” Candace said, smiling. She checked her watch. “Go ahead it’s time to start.”
José rubbed Zephyr’s back briefly, but didn’t take her hand. Though she knew from the look in his eyes he wanted to. “C’mon, let me show you to a seat.” José walked her inside what was probably on most days a basketball court. They went to the second row and sat in the fold out chairs. Zephyr glanced around at people who ranged in ages. From those that looked homeless, to middle class workers, she wondered about the mixed group.
The man named Tyrone stepped up to the small podium and nodded to the crowd. “Thank you all for coming today. I know those of us that battle with substance abuse like me struggle most with making your family proud, as well as yourself. So let me start by saying my name is Tyrone Jax, I’m a heroin addict, and I’ve been clean and sober for six years now.”
Everyone clapped and Zephyr joined in the applause. Tyrone nodded, but he didn’t smile. “I’ve been a part of the 37th Avenue Community Center for two years, and I must say that I’ve seen many people from all walks of life come through these doors. Most times they’re desperate. Sometimes they only want to find a temporary escape. B
ut all of them want a little hope. This dude here, someone I call friend, is one of those rare people I didn’t think to meet. Yeah we all know him. He used to play some sport—”
People laughed and smiled. Zephyr looked at him curiously. José winked at her and nodded at Tyrone.
“Well he could have gone anywhere, ya know. But he came here and I don’t give a shit about his reasons. Since he’s been here he’s been proving all those motherfuck—I mean he’s been proving all those out there that call him some loser athlete wrong. You know they love you when you’re strong and using that million dollar of yours for them, but make a mistake and they can give a shit. I say José Batista is more than the strikeout king. He’s a decent human being. And clean and sober for four months today. Show him some love.”
The applause filled the gym. José rose and walked out of the aisle. Tyrone met him with a fraternal hug and hit him on the back. He put the coin in his hand and stepped away from the podium. José held up the coin and several members from his group that were scattered about stood up and clapped for him. He beamed with pride.
“Thanks, thanks,” he said. He waited for the clapping to stop. “Bettie, you next,” he said pointing one person out who yelled ‘Damn right!’ back. Zephyr looked back at the woman then to José. She realized these people were now his friends. José never really took to people, other than athletes. He said he didn’t need friends. Apparently that was no longer true.
José smiled. “Wow, it’s been two months since I showed up here. I have to say it wasn’t planned. I mean I knew I needed a sponsor, but I didn’t know how to go about trusting myself or anyone else outside of my bubble. 37th Avenue Community Center changed that for me.”
More applause.
“Staying clean ain’t easy,” he admitted.
“Sho’ ain’t!” someone yelled from the back.
José nodded. “But what’s even harder is atoning for all the shit you did when you were down. Especially when you can’t blame the drug for it, and you have to blame yourself.” He looked out at Zephyr and smiled. “It’s even harder to see what you took for granted. What you left behind and know you can never get those days back. It took someone that cared about me, believed in me, that picked me up literally from my own vomit and took me to get help, for me to wake up. I knew the moment she did it that I had everything I always wanted right there within my reach. Then it was gone, I mean she was gone. I was left to face it alone and it wasn’t easy.”