I Can Love You

by Mackenzie Joy

  “It can’t be,” Tara said, smiling. Sydney’s eyes shifted from Quinton to Tara, then back to Quinton.

  “Tara, were you expecting him?”

  “Not at all.” Tara got out to meet him halfway. Quinton was walking with a sculpted wooden cane, and his arm was in a sling. He lifted the designer eyewear that shielded his tired eyes, smiling as the two friends embraced.

  “Quinton, what the hell are you doing here?” Tara asked, trying to temper her excitement at seeing him.

  Quinton led her a few feet away from the trucks. With a swift motion of his hand, he tucked a fallen strand of hair behind her ear. She knew she looked exhausted, and her hair, haphazardly drawn into a ponytail, didn’t help hide it. Tara was still carrying the pillow close she’d napped on in the car, bringing it thanks to a habit from the many occasions sleep and work conflict.

  Quinton flashed Tara his perfect smile, revealing the sexiest dimple she had ever laid eyes on. She felt the warmth in her cheeks despite the brisk and windy day, saying, “Please don’t give me that lame ‘I was in the neighborhood’ bit.”

  “I just wanted to make sure you got off safely this morning.”

  “Oh, Quinton. I can’t believe you drove down here just for that. You could have called or texted me.”

  Quinton turned his attention to Sydney, leading Aaron out of the car and to the aircraft. When he saw the child, he turned to Tara. “I’m worried about you.”

  Quinton reached for her face to tilt it up slightly as he took his time looking into her eyes for whatever she tried to keep from him.

  “About last night,” Tara tried to explain. “I shouldn’t have called you like that.”

  “Tara, always know that you can call me whenever and for whatever reason. I’m here for you. I don’t feel comfortable with you moving around by yourself. I want to go with you, and I brought my boys with me so they can fill in for Grim. Think of yourself and your son.”

  Men in dark suits were standing nearby, each one bigger and taller than the other. Laughing, Tara eyed Quinton’s security detail. “I don’t need the A-Team with me. I’m just going to L.A., and I rarely need bodyguards out there. If the need arises, Sydney can make a few calls.”

  Quinton looked at her, not even trying to conceal his growing impatience. “You gonna call security after something pops off? Tara, we’re going with you.”

  “Quinton, we’ll be fine.”

  He held his hand up and stopped her ending her resistance.

  “At least tell me who they are. I don’t recognize any of them.”

  “These guys know you much better than the other security personnel. They’re trained to understand your moves and will stay out of the way. You’ll hardly notice they’re around.”

  “As long as they don’t follow me into the bathroom, I guess it won’t hurt,” she finally agreed good-humoredly. “What about you? Why are you making the trip? I thought you were passing on L.A. and Vegas.”

  “I have some business I need to tend to personally out there. So, um . . . can I bum a ride?” Grinning, Quinton answered without answering.

  Tara laughed the hardest she had in a while. “Quinton, I don’t know what I am going to do with you.”

  She led him toward the aircraft where Sydney and Aaron were waiting to board. Once they were all inside, Tara introduced her son to Quinton; Quinton, in turn, introduced the new security members to everyone. Sydney collected the passengers’ personal information to hand into airport personnel for the airplane’s manifest record, and once the pilot received clearance, they were off.

  * * *

  Aaron’s excitement tugged at emotions Quinton kept suppressed for a reason. Tara got a second chance. He would give anything… everything… to have a second chance.

  “Hey, little man,” Quinton, sitting in one of the reclining chairs in front of a flat monitor, called Aaron over and handed him a remote that controlled the entire video system in the plane’s front. Aaron spent the first half-hour of the flight in total amazement at the aircraft’s opulence. The massive entertainment center, which had the latest video games, impressed him the most. Aaron informed everyone aboard that he planned to play all the games and watch every single movie during the flight.

  Quinton grabbed two wireless controllers and gave one to Aaron. “Have you ever been to L.A.?”

  “No, sir.”

  Though impressed with Aaron’s manners, Quinton encouraged him to call him “Q” and urged him to relax. “Which game do you want to play first—football, basketball, or golf?”

  “Basketball, please.”

  Quinton turned on the system and set it to the latest NBA-endorsed video game. “I heard you’re a big basketball fan. The Warriors are playing while we’re out there,” he said, receiving a considerable smile from Aaron.

  “Steph Curry is my favorite player,” the boy responded.

  Quinton then asked him, “Did you have fun on your birthday?”

  Aaron excitedly shared all the highlights he recalled with his new friend, Quinton. He then became curious about his trip to Los Angeles and Las Vegas.

  “Will I get to see Miss Russell singing at a concert?”

  “No. However, Tara will go on stage to accept an award,” Quinton said. “Tara has a recording studio at her house in L.A., and you can sit in on a session while we’re out there. That should be cool to check out.”

  “What’s a session?” Aaron asked.

  “A session is when someone goes into a studio to work on a recording of some type. Such as music. Artists record your favorite songs in studios, similar to the one Tara has at her house.”

  “What about music videos? What’s the point? And why is it wrong to download songs on the Internet without paying for them? Can you get famous uploading your stuff to YouTube?” Aaron threw a list of questions at him.

  Quinton said, laughing, “Fortunately for you, we have a few hours to get a crash course on the music business. I guess the easiest way to explain it would be to use Tara’s new project, for example.”

  “What’s a project?”

  “A project is a term we use for new music. Tara is working on something for her record label, so we call it a project. Once it’s finished being recorded, mixed and mastered—”

  “And a mix is what you do, right?”

  Laughing, Quinton knew despite his many other accomplishments in music, having the gift to remix a song into a hit was something that got him internationally recognized. “What you’re referring to is a remix, but first, you have to do what is known as a mix. That’s where the producer puts all the pieces of the song together. Then it goes through a process called mastering. I am working on a few songs and can show you the difference between a remix and mixing. When everything for the project is complete, they will master the album to remove any little mistakes and make sure it all sounds good for the listener.”

  Quinton and Aaron continued their Q&A session while playing, and Quinton loved sharing what he knew with the child.

  * * *

  It couldn’t have been long after Tara closed her eyes that someone hovered, ready to interrupt her sleep. Tara stirred and cracked her eyes open but continued to recline in her seat. “What’s up, Syd?”

  “Oh, good, you’re up.”

  “Just trying to get at least an hour of sleep before we land. The schedule has little room for rest until tonight.”

  “And the time difference doesn’t help. They’re about to serve breakfast soon,” Sydney added. Tara’s unmoved face encouraged Sydney to continue so she could resume her nap. “I just wanted you to know that everything is all set for this afternoon. Changing the date was a good idea. There shouldn’t be too many media hounds to worry about at the hospital.”

  “Great, thanks. Are the gifts going to be there?”

  “The nursing supervisor told me everything arrived yesterday, and she put them away somewhere safe while the room is set up. The caterer has everyone’s special dietary needs, and the menu should
be something you approve of. Justin also confirmed that he would meet you at your place to work on your hair.”

  “Everything sounds good and very much together,” Tara said, satisfied with Sydney’s detailed report. After a time, she stopped listening to Sydney read off the checklist for the patients’ party and began watching Aaron and Quinton battle it out playing a video game. The two engrossed in the actions on the screen and cheered or jeered while exchanging high-fives and fist bumps. “I love him so much,” Tara said.

  Sydney nearly knocked over her laptop. “Excuse me?”

  “Aaron means so much to me,” Tara continued, turning to face Sydney. “You knew all along, didn’t you?”

  Sydney nodded.

  Keeping her voice low so that only the two of them could hear, Tara continued opening up to her assistant. “I didn’t know anything about him and had no idea that his natural father was raising him all these years. I feel so fortunate to have a second chance with Aaron, and I will let nothing get in between us ever again.”

  “Aaron doesn’t know, does he?” Sydney asked. When Tara said no, she said, “But you will tell him soon, aren’t you?”

  Tara nodded, whispering, “Soon.”

  “Good, because you don’t want him finding out from anyone else other than his parents, and please don’t worry, your secret is safe with me,” Sydney said. “There are people out there who just don’t give a damn about you, your son or the facts of the situation, and they’re the ones that can cause that little boy a lot of pain.”

  She expressed concerns that reflected what Tara was already feeling, and she nodded in agreement and then allowed the pleasing sight of Aaron playing with Quinton lull her to sleep.

  * * *

  Tara woke but kept her eyes closed, the scent of Quinton’s favorite cologne… her favorite on him… floating around her, and she curled closer to inhale more of him. She remained close with her head leaning against his frame.

  “I know that little bit of breakfast you ate didn’t put you to sleep,” she heard his voice teasing her.

  Tara’s eyes popped open as the subtle vibration from his laughter shook her.

  “I’m sorry, Tara, did your snoring wake you?” Quinton joked.

  Straightening up in the seat, she forced a frown on her face. “I don’t snore. Where’s Aaron?”

  “Up front with the pilot,” Quinton replied. He adjusted his sling and wrapped his free arm around Tara, pulling her close again. Leaning his head close to hers, he asked, “How are you feeling?”

  “Better, I guess. I’m just nervous, and I hope I’m doing the right thing.”

  “Do you hear music yet?” he asked her. “You really should have finished that song by now.”

  She looked up at his amused expression. “I’m on vacation, remember? That means I’m not trying to work at all. We can talk about songwriting in two months.”

  “I knew you’d eventually back out of my song,” he said, smiling at her stubborn response. “I’ll change that in L.A.”

  “How?”

  “I have my methods. You taught them to me, remember?” Quinton bent his head and his lips met hers. The brush of them coaxed her into opening up to him. He slipped his tongue past the walls of her teeth, and she sank into the floating feeling the sensation of his tongue brushing against hers made her feel.

  When he pulled away, she swiped her finger along the outline of his mouth to remove any trace of her lipstick left behind. “I remember.”

  “And never forget.”

  * * *

  A hired car took them from Santa Monica airport to Tara’s Brentwood Park estate. From the time the plane landed to their drive through the Westside, Aaron was in complete awe of the City of Angels. He gazed at each multimillion-dollar home and gated estate through the lowered car window until reaching her mansion. The car slowly proceeded down a drive lined with masses of flowers, stopping in front of the grand entrance.

  This was home, and Tara felt good walking into the foyer of her grand two-story atrium entrance. She hadn’t been home in nearly four months. The oversized black crates marked with her tour logo waiting in the hallway next to her office were proof of her extended time away. She was happy to see that the wardrobe and other tour items she requested were safe in her house and not in some musty storage facility.

  Quinton was telling the driver where to place everyone’s luggage. Smirking, Tara turned and asked, “So am I safe in assuming that you will be stay here as usual?”

  “Is there a reason I wouldn’t? Tell me you didn’t do anything to my room.”

  “Your room? Since when did you start paying rent?” she asked playfully.

  When Tara and Quinton first started hanging out together, he often stayed in trendy hotels in Hollywood and Beverly Hills known for catering to entertainment’s elite. However, when Tara made the eight-bedroom home her own and decorated it to fit her personality, he took a strong liking to the place, so much so that he never returned to those hotels. Many of those visiting also loved her home, but except for Quinton, she wasn’t the type to encourage an entourage of overnight guests. Quinton was the only one who slipped through the cracks. Over time, he had left enough personal items behind until he had enough things to fill up one of the guest bedrooms on the second floor. He even stayed when she was not in town having his own set of keys.

  Sydney tapped Aaron on the shoulder and offered to give him a tour of the estate. “I’ll show you all of my favorite hang-out spots in this big place. I know you will love the basketball court. There’s also a tennis court, a garden area, and a pool that you won’t believe until you see it for yourself.”

  Tara asked Sydney to show the members of her new security team to the vacant guest rooms downstairs, reminding her to call the housekeeper to come in and tidy up the rooms because they would stay awhile. It was rare anyone used those rooms, and fresh linen, towels, and toiletries needed to make the space livable. Usually, she employed security from the Los Angeles area who lived in the city and didn’t have to stay with her.

  She decided that Aaron would stay in the upstairs bedroom closest to her master suite.

  After major renovations to the house, Tara tore down many of the bedrooms. She had always fantasized about having the most magnificent closet in the world. One day it clicked—she would turn two of the guest bedrooms into that masterpiece. She used the room next to her suite upstairs and the room directly below it to transform the space. She added a door from the bathroom into the oversized closet and dressing room and put in a staircase to bring the two rooms together. The two rooms provided ample space to hold all her clothes, and it was where her stylists did their magic without interrupting the serenity of her own boudoir. The room was their workspace, and the only place she allowed the glam squad to work in her home.

  When Sydney and Aaron returned after a tour of the grounds, the assistant told Tara she thought Tara should show the boy her guesthouse since it housed her recording studio and the many awards she had received during her career.

  The home decorated in soothing natural hues of greens, blues, and creams to make it comfortable yet offer the relaxing appeal of a spa. Tara took Aaron to her private theater with plush recliner and sectional seating for twenty and a draped screen. Framed movie posters spanning earlier black and white films to present blockbuster hits decorated the walls. Aaron stopped to admire a movie poster with an autograph from Will Smith and Martin Lawrence and another signed by the cast from Black Panther. Tara had also stopped, admiring the Selena movie poster next to it. A fan of the Tejano singer, Tara remembered meeting her as a preteen before someone fatally shot the singer. She smiled, remembering how she and her sisters hoped to grow up to be singers like their idol.

  They moved on to the gym full of the latest fitness equipment. Six flat-screen televisions mounted to be visible from any machine. Next to it was the sauna, and through glass double doors was one of the many ways to access the pool area.

  Before seeing the pool, T
ara showed Aaron the game room. The room had every arcade game imaginable, a sign of Quinton’s influence on Tara’s home just like the jet they flew in. They moved to the rear of the house next. She approached the wall unit to enter a code, and a concealed feature of the room came into view.

  She turned on the waterfalls for the pool, made of natural rock formations, and a sound system that blared through carefully placed waterproof faux rocks. Aaron had never seen or experienced anything like it.

  “Aaron,” Tara said, “you see that pool right there on the outside? Well, when the glass wall moves, it becomes an indoor/outdoor pool. The glass opens up, leaving a walkway that retracts, and underneath, a partition lowers so you can swim outside. Do you know how to swim?”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  “Good, but you must promise me you won’t get into the pool unless one of us—Quinton, Sydney, or myself—is here to supervise you. Understand?”

  “Yes, ma’am. Is that a water slide?”

  Tara smiled down, witnessing his excitement. “It is. I want you to enjoy the pool, but only if you promise to follow the rules.”

  “I promise.”

  “Great. Now let me show you where you’ll find the fun stuff. This is also where you can always find Quinton if you need him.” Tara laughed and glanced at Quinton, who was busy talking to the security team. “Afterward, we need to get ready for the hospital tour.”

  * * *

  Hours later, Tara peeked into the room she’d given to Aaron pleased he was fast asleep. With the staff now gone, it was just the two of them along with Quinton and security on the premises. Not ready to turn in just yet, as the night was still young for her, she searched for Quinton. A quest that eventually took her outdoors.

  A light coming from the bungalow in her backyard got her attention. It was where she housed her studio.

  A mellow melody coaxed her toward the French doors that were open to allow the night breeze inside. She entered the room, and the hypnotic percussion rhythms relaxed her immediately.