Cross Your Mind (An Emerson Novel Book 3)

by K L Finalley

  "Jax, where are you going? Are we parking here?"

  Dammit, Jacqueline thought.

  "Uh huh," With her arms folded in the passenger's seat, Mallory's voice had returned, "Where ya goin', Jax? Are you headed home? Are you runnin' away from your family?"

  "No, Jax! You said we could go to the lakehouse," Zoe whimpered.

  Jacqueline was defeated. With a heavy sigh, she turned around, she put the Laredo into neutral and sat still. She hung her head low, so low that it nearly touched the steering wheel. "That's my whole family. My aunt, my uncle, my cousins, their kids. That's my mother and stepfather, my sisters, and all their kids."

  "What are they all doing?" Mallory asked.

  "It's my uncle's birthday."

  "And, were we invited?" Mallory's arms remained folded.

  "Yes."

  "And, were we going to go?" Frowning began.

  "No. Never."

  "Why not, Jax? It's at the lakehouse," Zoe said.

  "It always is, honey. It always is," Jacqueline sighed.

  Still questioning, "Why weren't we going?" Mallory demanded.

  "We never go, because I never tell you that we're invited," Jacqueline admitted.

  "Let's start going, Jax. We can have them over to our new house." Zoe suggested.

  Jacqueline's head sprung up. Her entire life ran before her eyes. She just realized that Zoe wasn't just talking about having friends over. She was talking about having friends and family over. Her shoulders deflated. "Listen, we sent a gift and our best regards. I don't remember the reason that I said we couldn't join them, but I'm sure there was a really good reason on the card we sent."

  "You sent," Mallory charged.

  "I sent. On our behalf. Anyhow, how's it gonna look if we show up?"

  "I guess you'll figure that out." There was foot tapping.

  "Jax, what'd we give him?" Always interested in the gift, Zoe inquired.

  "Headphones."

  Mallory's head sharply turned in Jacqueline's direction, "We sent your uncle headphones for his birthday! How old is he turning?"

  "I don't know. Fifty-something."

  "Jacqueline! Drive! It's time we all meet," Mallory demanded.

  "Ugh."

  "Drive! Now!"

  Jacqueline returned the Jeep to first gear and they inched over ruts in the sand towards her family's lakehouse. They tossed left, then right. They bounced up, then down. Despite the movement, Mallory adjusted her makeup and combed her previously pony-tailed hair. Then, unexpectedly, the path cleared. There were no trees overhead. There were no ruts. To the left, there was a manmade parking lot of gravel and railroad ties. It was filled with a variety of other cars. Jacqueline pulled the Jeep into it. She turned the engine off, but she did not exit the vehicle. She sat still staring out of her the driver's side window.

  Zoe said, "Jax, there's a lady comin' our way. Do you see her?"

  "In my nightmares," Jacqueline whispered as Mallory hit her arm.

  Zoe pressed, "Who is she?"

  "Sheryl Whittaker, my mother." Mallory leaned over Jacqueline for a better look. A middle-aged black woman headed to the parked vehicle. She was shorter than Jacqueline. She had a head full of shoulder length black hair, which contrasted with Jacqueline's short, thin not quite black hair. Her broad smile made Mallory think that she knew something that she didn't know, but it made her feel as though she was about to tell her. As she passed in front of the Jeep, but she kept her eye on Jacqueline. But, when she made the turn to the passenger's side of the vehicle, she turned her head and glared into Mallory's eyes.

  As she approached the passenger's door, Mallory sat back into her seat. Sheryl reached for the handle as Mallory unlocked it. With the door opening, Sheryl spoke, "Well, well, well, I s'ppose you're the woman that kept Q away from home for the holidays."

  Jacqueline put her head on the horn and let her arms dangle around the steering column.

  CHAPTER TWO

  Eying her mother and Mallory conversing on the passenger's side of the Laredo, Jacqueline realized the inevitability of the onslaught of more family. With that in mind, she took the precious seconds she had to escape her entrapment. Quietly, she opened the half door and slid out onto the gravel ground. Holding the door hinge, she closed the door and released the handle, hoping to prevent any noise that might stir attention. On safe ground, staring into the Jeep, she felt free.

  Then, from over her shoulder, she heard, "Well, this sure is a surprise." Lee Whittaker, her stepfather, had ambled up behind her. "I was just asking your Mama when we were gonna see you since you missed Thanksgiving and Christmas."

  Lee Whittaker was a compact man. After serving in the Army Infantry for twenty years, he became a mailman. He wasn't the mailman at the post office nor was he the mailman who serviced businesses or picked up mail from curbside boxes. He was the mailman who drove the truck; the guy who parked it at ends of streets and walked with mail on his back from house to house; the guy in the shorts with that bag hoisted over his shoulder trudging along with certified letters, with Christmas cards and gifts in the searing Miami heat or the constant summer drizzle. He searched for mailboxes when they'd fell. He walked up onto the porch if the box was there. He rang the bell if the package wouldn't fit in the box. He apologized when the check didn't come and celebrated when it did. Lee didn't yell when the dog growled at him. He never wore sunblock. He never carried an umbrella. He never complained about the weather. He was everyone's friendly Mailman Lee.

  "Hiya, Pops," Jacqueline said, as she spun around to give him a hug. Pops, that's what she had called him. He wasn't Mailman Lee to her. He was her stepfather. Her mother had married him when she was nine. Nine was old enough to know that her father's name was Dexter Haven Emerson and to know that he lived in California. Dexter was a tall, thin, light-skinned man with a broad smile and enough charisma to light a dark room. Lee was short, stocky, dark-skinned man and he was not her father. And, as such, she knew he could not be called Dad, because Dad was called Dad. Therefore, Lee was Pops. There hadn't been any discussion about it; at least, there was no discussion that she was a part of. One day, she stopped calling him Lee and started calling him Pops. And, that had never changed.

  "Who do we have here?" he asked.

  Pointing across the Jeep, Jacqueline said, "This is..."

  Zoe cut her off. "I'm Zoe."

  "Who said that?" Sheryl teased. Zoe giggled. "Lee, did you hear a little voice say something?"

  "Don't think I did," Lee replied acting as Sheryl's perfect tag team partner.

  "It's me. Zoe. I'm in the backseat." That was Mallory's cue to slide out of the way. From the backseat, Zoe emerged. In pink shorts and a white tank top with a sun on it, a lanky, young girl appeared. Her blue eyes danced at the sight of Sheryl and Lee, who were, then standing side by side. Zoe continued, "See, I was back here the whole time."

  "Well, hello, there, Zoe. That's a pretty name. It's much better than plain 'ole Lee," he said and poked out his lip.

  "Thank you," Zoe said.

  "And, you have such nice manners. I'm guessin' your mama taught you those nice manners, not Q." Sheryl teased.

  Confused, Zoe asked, "Who's Q?"

  From the back of the Jeep, Jacqueline said, "Zoe, that's what my family calls me. Q. It's my nickname. Like you call me Jax."

  Looking at Sheryl, Zoe said, "Why do you call her Q?"

  Lee roared. "Because she's so smart. When everyone else is off riding bikes, she's readin' or playin' Mozart or somethin' like that. So, I started callin' her Q like from James Bond." Zoe stared at him. At eight, she had had limited experience with the Bond movies.

  "Why do you call her Jax?" Sheryl asked.

  "Because Mom does."

  "I see," Sheryl said and eyeballed Mallory who was standing by Jacqueline pretending to unload the bags from the back of the Jeep. She walked to the back of the Jeep and joined them. "Let's go introduce y'all to the rest of the family."

  As Jacqueline close
d the door, she stepped near her mother, "Hi, Mom."

  "Hello, Jax," she taunted.

  As the five crossed the gravel-filled yard, they fell into the shadow of the lakehouse. The backside of the gray, two-story farmhouse had seen better days. Its paint was peeling. The window trims needed to be replaced. Jacqueline noticed some of the roof shingles were missing. She'd never looked at the house as she had that moment. Crossing from the cars, she thought of it as a structure, a place, as an old lakehouse that needed some work.

  The quiet walk ended when the five rounded the corner and the world was flooded with sounds. There were the voices of adults mixed with the sounds of music and laughter. The gravel that Lee had laid to create a driveway and a walkway started to intermingle with white sand. Jacqueline watched as Mallory shook the loose sand from her sandals with each step. She wanted to tell her to give up, but she didn't dare. Instead, she smiled to herself and enjoyed her efforts to clean her shoes every few paces.

  As they neared the wooden deck, Jacqueline knew that there would be no more gravel. The sand would be thick, like the beach. They plodded up the yard towards the deck and Jacqueline saw Mallory sink. Leaving Zoe with Sheryl and Lee, she returned to her. Frustrated and mumbling to herself, Mallory reached out for Jacqueline. Holding onto her arm, she removed her shoes and walked barefoot the rest of the way. Jacqueline laughed as Mallory trotted past her.

  As the party crossed over the deck, Jacqueline looked towards the dock. Lee's eighteen-foot long bowrider powerboat was anchored on the still water. She pointed it out to Zoe who ran to Sheryl and Lee. Tugging at his pants, she asked, "Mister Pops, can we ride on that boat?"

  Lee's eyes twinkled. Within minutes, Zoe had accepted the idea of calling him Pops. "Zoe, you know, you can call me Pops or Grandpa, but you don't have to say Mister."

  She thought for a second, then she replied, "Can I call you Grandpops?"

  He chuckled. "Well, that makes you Q's, doesn't it?"

  Back on task, she returned to her question since it had yet to be answered, "Grandpops, can we ride on that boat?"

  "Yes, Zoe, later. I'll take you out on the boat later. Okay?"

  "Thank you."

  With the full front of the house in view, they saw an older couple in beach chairs. The woman looked like an older version of Sheryl. She was Jacqueline's Aunt Latoya. Seated next to her asleep was a bald man whose head glistened in the afternoon sun. A salt and pepper beard sparsely decorated his face. With his mouth open and his eyes closed, his gulped large amounts of air and snored loudly. As the party passed, Latoya stood up and Sheryl shook the sleeping man's chair. She said, "Ken, wake up! Q has come by to wish you a happy birthday."

  The commotion brought people from inside of the lakehouse outside. Two women appeared on the porch. One had her hair in a ponytail and carried a baby on her hip. The other was half-looking at her phone, half-squinting in the direction of the party walking towards them. Off the other side of the house, there were four men playing volleyball who never noticed that people had arrived. Jacqueline leaned to Mallory and said, "Things're about to get complicated."

  "Hey, there, you. I didn't expect you to drive out here," the woman with the baby said as she handed Jacqueline the baby.

  The baby awoke as she was passed from her mother to Jacqueline. Jacqueline bounced the child as she received it. "Mallory, this is my middle sister, Felicia, and her daughter, Imani. If you look over at the beach volleyball finals, you'll see her husband, Xavier."

  Pointing, Felicia said, "You can tell which one is mine, because he's the fool wearing socks in the sand. Cuz, he don't like how sand feels on his feet." Felicia leaned in and hugged Mallory. "It's nice to meet you."

  Mallory said, "It's nice to meet you, too. How old is she?" Jacqueline turned, so Mallory could see the baby's face.

  "Six months."

  "She's so sweet," Mallory said.

  "Jax, lemme see her," Zoe pleaded.

  "This your little girl?" Felicia asked. "How old is she?"

  "Just turned eight," Mallory said as she stroked the top of Zoe's head.

  "That's the same age as Tiana," Felicia responded as she tightened her ponytail.

  "Oh, your other daughter?" Mallory asked.

  "No, our niece. This girl," Felicia said as she pointed to the younger, shorter woman who was standing next to her, "who is standing here but not talking, because she's too busy texting, has an eight-year old daughter named Tiana." Felicia turned and beckoned the child, "Tiana!"

  "Hey, Q," Kiana stopped texting long enough to one arm hug her sister. "Mallory, right?"

  "Right, I'm Mallory," Mallory said as she waved slightly to Kiana who never made eye contact.

  "I'm Kiana. And, yes, I am the youngest and there's no reason for me to talk, because they ain't gonna listen anyhow."

  "Well, that was a great welcome, Kiana," Jacqueline snided.

  "Awright. I'm sorry," Kiana said as she lowered the phone. "Dwayne's not answering. That's Tiana's father. He said he was gonna get her Spring Break, and I know it's just a lie. But, I still wanted to believe his sorry ass. You know, what I mean?"

  "Uh, she just met you," Jacqueline said. "Can we save your baby daddy details for a few hours?”

  "That's okay. I got an ex I can't rely on. I completely understand," Mallory agreed.

  "See, Q. She understands," Kiana repeated. As they stood around talking, little children appeared. Tiana's fresh round, dimpled face came to see what her aunt's screams demanded. Wearing a red t-shirt and jean shorts, she ran with other children in tow. "This here is Tiana. The little one behind her is also mine. His name is Dane. He's five. His father is Derrick. He's over there playing volleyball on Xavier's team. Let's see." Kiana began to introduce Mallory to the children and adults alike. "This is Kamal Junior. We call him KJ. He's eleven. He's Kamal and Shanika's son. Kamal's over there playing volleyball. He's on the other volleyball team. He's the jet black one with no shirt on. And, this little guy is Carlo. He's also Kamal and Shanika's son. He's three. Kids, this is Zoe."

  Tiana said, "How old are you?"

  "Eight."

  Excited to have a girl her own age, she said, "Me too. Wanna hang out with us?"

  "Yeah, sure." And, without another word, Zoe ran off with the children.

  Mallory looked on nervously as she ran away. Felicia reassured her. "Don't worry. They can't get into too much trouble. They were over on the other side building sand castles."

  "Oh, I wasn't worried. I'm glad she has someone to play with."

  "Girl, there's always someone to play with," Kiana said with her phone back up to her face.

  "Okay, so that's Xavier in the socks. He's playing with Derrick. On the other side is Kamal..." Mallory was trying to figure them out.

  "The dark one." Kiana said.

  "Our cousin. Aunt Latoya and Uncle Ken's oldest son." Jacqueline tried to help.

  "Who is he playing with?" Mallory asked.

  "Oh, that's his brother. Our other cousin, Khalil. Khalil is the youngest," Jacqueline explained.

  "Whittakers versus Prices," Felicia said. "Every time. Every game. Whittakers versus Prices."

  "Shanika is Kamal's wife, right? She's the mother of KJ and Carlo."

  Felicia screamed, "Shanika!"

  After a few minutes, from their far side, a very large belly appeared. Then, a woman attached to the belly appeared. It was Shanika. "Stop calling my name. It's too hot for all this moving around."

  "Girl, no one told you to keep getting knocked up," Kiana said. "Come 'round here and meet Q's girl."

  Jacqueline wanted to die. She figured being called Q's girl wasn't likely to be Mallory's ideal choice of euphemisms. What was worse was there wasn't anything she could do to soften it. "Hey, Shanika. This is Mallory."

  "Hi, it's nice to meet you." Shanika extended her hand.

  "Nice to meet you. Your boys are so cute. Are you having another son?"

  "Girl, I told the doctor I didn't even want to know. I
'm not even gonna say I wanna girl. It doesn't even matter anymore."

  Mallory laughed. "Well, at least, you won't be disappointed."

  "Oh, I'll be disappointed if it ain't a girl, but I can blame Kamal. It's all his fault."

  From the volleyball net, the girls heard, "What? Wait a minute. It's not my fault."

  "Yes, it is YOUR fault," she screamed in his direction. Then, she turned back to Mallory and, in a conversational tone, she resumed her thought, "But, this is my last try. No matter what. I told the doctor to cut 'em, freeze 'em, burn 'em, but get 'em out. This is our last baby."

  "When's the baby due?" Mallory asked as she placed her hand on her stomach.

  "Four weeks."

  "Shit, you're gonna pop," Mallory remarked.

  "Gurl, who are you tellin'? Let's move back to the other side, so I can sit down. My feet are startin' to swell."

  The women trudged through the sand past the guys who yelled hello to Jacqueline. She introduced Mallory as they went by. On the other side of the yard, there was a deck outfitted with chairs and tables. Jacqueline's mother, stepfather, aunt, and uncle were playing cards on the deck as the kids had a sand castle town under construction only yards away.

  Shanika wormed her hips deeper into her yoga pants before grabbing the deck railing. Then, she climbed the two stairs and returned to her red Adirondack. Settling into it, she released a deep breath. Jacqueline collected the chairs that littered the decking. Adirondacks and rockers. High backs and stools. After the deck reorganization was complete, Mallory whispered, "Where's the restroom?"

  "Do you want me to go with you?" Jacqueline responded with a question.

  "No, I can manage, honey. Just tell me where to go."

  "Okay. Head in the front door, up the stairs, and turn right. It's at the end of the hall. You can't miss it."

  "Okay, baby."

  Jacqueline watched as Mallory went into the lakehouse. Before she could turn around, she felt her family converge on her. The game had halted. Pops, Aunt Latoya, Uncle Ken, and her sisters had moved to the chairs that she had assembled. At first, no one spoke. They sat still staring at the water. Occasionally, Jacqueline would feel a set of eyes wander on her, and, then off her. Or, she would notice that one person would look at another but neither would speak. She knew that they wanted to ask her something, but she sensed they had far too many questions to figure out which to ask and who would go first. She decided that she would help them. "Okay, let's do this. What do you want to know?"