Never Keeping Secrets

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Never Keeping Secrets Page 21

by Niobia Bryant

Danielle’s was inside her Birkin. Monica’s was on the floor beside her seat. Keesha had folded hers and shoved it inside her purse.

  The very past anyone would rightfully want to leave behind was right there being carried by them. There was no way they could leave it behind.

  Latoya watched Monica and Keesha check their phones. She had left hers in the car. She doubted Taquan called. He probably hopped on the phone with the board to diffuse how his wife’s addiction would affect his grand tribute to himself. The church of Taquan. She felt hysterical laughter bubble up inside her.

  She closed her eyes and fought for it not to escape. His ass doesn’t even deliver the Word that great. TD and Joel have nothing to worry about. Please.

  Latoya patted her purse just as she opened her eyes. She found Keesha’s eyes on her and she nervously swiped at the sweat she felt beading on her upper lip.

  Everything in Keesha’s eyes let Latoya know that she was well aware that Latoya was in the throes of a minifit. She blinked as she shifted her eyes away from her, unable to take someone who knew her finally seeing the secret she had hidden so well all these months. She was exposed.

  There was a bittersweetness to that.

  She was so invisible in her life that no one in it even saw that she had succumbed to a drug addiction. Not one. And she didn’t know if that was more about them not thinking it possible for her to become an addict or their just overlooking her like a pretty window dressing.

  She had no doubts in her mind that these three women sitting here with her, equally dealing with a plague from their past, would have seen the change in her. They would have given a shit.

  Her husband did not.

  She blinked away rising tears.

  Just one.

  In those moments right after Xavier took such pleasure in humiliating them her thoughts had been how Taquan forcing her to apologize to Olivia had been worse. Much worse.

  The smugness on that woman’s face had felt like cuts to her soul with a brand-new razor blade.

  To hell with him. I just don’t want to lose my children. The same way I sat right there and allowed my husband to convince me to lose myself. Who the fuck am I anymore?

  No, I’m still here because it feels damn good to be in the presence of these women I never should have left behind.

  She had trusted in a man she thought was a friend when these women had already proven themselves. Latoya thought about how much she divulged to the man she knew as Marion. She whispered her secret right into the devil’s ear. Just one. Just one. She gripped the purse and wondered if she could sneak one. I miss my Altoids can.

  Latoya shrugged as the rest of the women talked about some actor named Kelson Hunter. In her home, they only watched nonsecular TV. She had no clue who Kelson Hunter was.

  She clenched and unclenched her hand in her lap as Monica walked out of the restaurant with her phone. From her seat she could see Monica pacing as she talked on her phone. She wiped the sweat from her neck as she looked around the restaurant for the bathroom.

  Bzzzzzz . . . Bzzzzzz . . . Bzzzzzz . . .

  Keesha picked up her phone.

  Latoya could tell from her face that it was Corey. She glanced at Danielle.

  The look they shared was evident. Corey had always been so good for Keesha. Keesha and Kimani. They knew the man had to be hurt. He had to be. Keesha had pulled the ultimate no-no. Although it was true you never knew what drove anyone to cheat, they knew that discovering your fiancée might be pregnant by your cousin was a lot to bear. Especially coming from someone else.

  Bzzzzzz . . . Bzzzzzz . . . Bzzzzzz . . .

  “At least you’ll know where he stands before you go home,” Danielle said to Keesha.

  Latoya already knew where Taquan stood. It was all about how anything she did either fed or fought his ambition. She shifted in her chair as the need for a pill nipped at her like mosquitoes in the summertime.

  “Hey baby—”

  Keesha’s eyes widened even as they filled with pain.

  Latoya couldn’t make out Corey’s words but she could tell he was screaming at her.

  Keesha ended the call and sat the phone back down. A tear raced down her cheek.

  Latoya felt hopeless and helpless. There was no doubt now that Xavier had indeed gone through with it. No doubt at all. By now Taquan knew it all. There was no scab on her past unpicked.

  What now?

  Latoya felt her emotions slide into red-hot anger that made her entire body tremble with it. Everything was so senseless.

  Xavier was the devil’s minion.

  I rebuke him in the name of Jesus.

  As badly as Latoya wanted a pill she knew she might have another fight ahead of her. Perhaps against Taquan and Bones. She didn’t know.

  The sound of Keesha’s phone vibrating was the only sound at the table.

  Danielle kept looking off into the distance with her face filled with sleep and fatigue and the effects of the wine she was still sipping. Keesha looked like she was fighting hard not to cry. Fighting and losing.

  Latoya saw her pain so clearly and her heart literally ached for her as she watched on as Keesha looked down at her engagement ring. She didn’t know what to say to make her feel better when she was in the midst of her own emotional typhoon. At any moment any of them at the table could be a hypocrite because they all had sins and griefs to bear.

  As Keesha checked her phone, Latoya pressed her back against the chair with her hand still on her purse. What am I going to face when I get home? Will I even have a home to go to?

  Latoya felt like her clothes were binding her, too close to her skin. Rubbing her the wrong way. She picked up the napkin holding the utensils she had no plans on using and pressed it against her neck.

  The mix of her addiction and the aftereffects of Xavier were too much to bear. She had enough on her own plate without the secrets of her friends being shoved down her throat as well.

  Latoya frowned as she could clearly hear Xavier tell Danielle: “You suck a mean dick.”

  And then he said Danielle gave out sex favors for her job on television? She frowned deeper at a vision of Danielle getting eaten out by a woman. She side-eyed her. So Dani’s a lesbian now?

  The man had not just lied to them and invaded their lives. He used his fake personas to his advantage to sex Danielle and Monica. Just sick.

  Latoya played with the hairs at the nape of her neck as she fought to resist the demon on her back. She knew that once again she had to fight it. Get strong. Do better.

  For my kids.

  Latoya felt overwhelmed by her thoughts and all of the questions running through her mind.

  What am I supposed to do?

  Will Taquan forgive me and understand that I need his love and support to fight this addiction?

  Will Bones forgive me and understand that I did what I had to do to stop him from taking his child from me?

  Will my parents ever truly forgive me for the lies and deception I fed them during my late teens and early twenties?

  Latoya’s mouth felt dry and she drank deeply of the ice water. Her fingers remained on her clutch and lightly scratched back and forth against the leather. She stood up and tucked her clutch under her arm. “Excuse me,” she said, leaving them to stop the first waiter she neared.

  “Where’s your restroom?” she asked him, feeling tightly wound.

  “The ladies’ room is right over in that corner there,” he said, pointing in its direction.

  She followed where he pointed and headed toward it. “Thank you,” she said, feeling her heart racing in anticipation.

  As soon as she pushed the door open and stepped inside she opened the flap of her clutch and dug out her prescription bottle. The pills inside rattled against the amber plastic as she fought with trembling hands to get it open.

  The bathroom door opened and Keesha stepped inside.

  Latoya froze, her hands still trembling.

  “Those pills ain’t shit but the anchor
weighing you down,” Keesha said softly but earnestly, her eyes filled with sympathy and concern as she removed her hand from her belly and reached out to Latoya with her palm side up.

  Latoya’s hand clutched the bottle and she bit her bottom lip. “Girl, y’all don’t know. I hate my marriage,” she admitted in a hoarse whisper, her shoulders sinking as tears gathered in her eyes. “I’m just trying to make it. I’m just trying to start and finish every fucking day without losing my damn mind.”

  And that was the truth.

  Keesha stepped forward and wrapped her hand around the one Latoya clutched the pill bottle with. “I swear to you this will only get worse before it gets better,” she said, gently removing the pills. “And you can’t do it alone. You can’t just call on the Lord. You have to go to all those people the Lord blessed with the know-how to help addicts like us. Junkies . . . fiends . . . like us.”

  Latoya allowed Keesha to pull her into a tight embrace.

  “You can call on me when you need to talk or you need someone to listen to you vent or you just want someone to sit in silence and just be there. I will do that for you because I know you are better than this, Toy,” she said.

  Latoya turned her head to the side. Their reflection was in the mirrors over the sink. Keesha was holding her tightly and letting her know she was not alone anymore. For the first time in a long time Latoya felt like someone had her back.

  She released a long, heavy, soul-cleansing breath as the tears wet her friend’s shoulder.

  “Thank you,” she whispered, knowing her battle had just begun but knowing she didn’t have to fight alone.

  Chapter 28

  Danielle

  8:59 P.M.

  Danielle had never let the pitfalls of her life lead to a pity party. Never. She grew up in foster care and faced things she had thankfully learned to bury. She yearned to know more about the parents she never met but never was successful. She wanted to attend college but couldn’t because at eighteen she was solely responsible for herself and her bills. She just learned that one of her biological parents gave her a kidney disorder that would one day end her life far earlier than the current life expectancy.

  She always tucked down her feelings, lifted up her chin, and made a way when there was none.

  The one good thing in her life—the one unspoiled thing—was her job as the co-anchor at The A-List. Her newfound fame and fortune were just the added perks of working hard for something and winning it.

  And now it’s slipping through my fingers too.

  Danielle took a deep sip of her red wine, enjoying the taste of it, even though she knew it wasn’t good for her. One glass of red wine? Helpful, actually. Nearing four? Suicide.

  She just didn’t give a fuck anymore. The one man she loved was in Jamaica and the one she thought she could care deeply for had revealed himself to be a poser who wanted nothing more than to pay her back for a high school prank. Fuck you, Omari . . . Xavier. Whatever. Fuck you.

  “I cannot believe that my entire relationship might be fucked over something we did in high school?”

  “My marriage too,” Latoya said.

  At least y’all have a husband. Who wants to marry a dying woman?

  Danielle finished her glass of wine by tipping her head back and getting every last drop. No family. No kids. No husband. And now no career because she had no idea how they would handle news of a serious health condition and a scandal over just how she got started in journalism. She just wanted to do her job and enjoy the best of it. She had every intention of resigning as soon as her doctors told her it was too much on her body. She was going to give them plenty of time to hire a new co-anchor.

  I fought hard for it and won. I just wanted to enjoy it some. That’s all.

  Danielle eyed her empty glass and then raised her hand to summon the cute waiter who served them. I just want to go numb. I just want to go numb. I just don’t want to feel this anymore.

  She crossed her legs and placed her hand in her lap as her foot seemed to swing back and forth on its own volition. She wanted nothing more in that moment than to be on the beach with Mohammed, her head on his chest and her legs entwined with his as they watched the sun set over the ocean. She could die peacefully right there in his arms. Mohammed knew the best and the worst of her. Whatever Xavier had in those file folders would not make Mohammed stop loving her. That she knew. That she took pride and solace in.

  She reached for her goblet and smiled a little as she took a deep sip.

  So fuck you, Xavier. Fuck you and your hurt feelings.

  Not even the fact that he pursued and seduced her into his bed was that worrisome to her. No matter how he looked at it. She got just as good as she gave. He ate just as much of her pussy as she blew him. And they were tied nut for nut.

  Sex as a weapon? Wrong bitch, loser.

  But for him to know about her illness and still continue with his ruse? Xavier was one slack-ass man.

  Danielle had no one to go home to. No one to even hurt with her secrets. All she had was her career and now that bastard was snatching that away from her. Her stomach twisted to think of the call she would get summoning her to the executive producer’s office. There would be nothing she could do but sit there and take it, their polite request for her to pack up her shit and get the hell away from The A-List with her sex scandal.

  A celebrity with sex drama? Reportable.

  A celebrity reporter with sex drama? Deuces, bitch. It was good while it lasted.

  Danielle sipped her wine and waited for the appropriate time to pull away from their reunion to have the driver take her the short distance to the Newark Airport. She stared off at nothing with her thoughts on how Xavier gloated and berated them while he strutted like a fancy peacock before them.

  Motherfucker, you had to fake a new identity to get this pussy you been dreaming about since high school, you hurt-feelings little punk bitch.

  That’s what I should’ve said, she thought.

  The punk bitch dressed up well. Money did a nigga good because the man playing dress-up in my life was one fine motherfucker who looked NOTHING like he did in school.

  Once he identified himself in that ballroom she could just make out a little bit of similarity between his figurative before and after. She was sure he at least got his teeth fixed, Lasik on his eyes, some dermatology on his skin, and plenty of milk to do that body good.

  Sadistic bastard. Just how far did that bastard go to ruin us?

  Bzzzzzz . . . Bzzzzzz . . . Bzzzzzz . . .

  Keesha picked up her phone.

  Danielle set her wineglass down and looked at Latoya before looking back at Keesha.

  She always was the wild one but two cousins? No way, who am I to judge. I sold a lick at my cat for my career. Tomato fucking tomahto.

  Danielle winced and leaned back a bit at the sounds of Corey’s angry voice echoing through the phone. Keesha looked crushed as she rushed to end the call and cut his tirade off before he was done.

  Her eyes went to the diamond solitaire on Keesha’s left ring finger. Not bad, Corey. Not bad at all. Too bad Xavier just shitted all over it.

  She shook her head a bit and took another sip of her wine as the annoying sound of Keesha’s vibrating phone continued. She fought the urge to pick it up and fling it against the floor.

  She felt the fatigue of everything weighing her down until she could barely raise her arm to lift up her glass of wine. Even through her fatigue, her bottomless glass of red wine, and her own life’s hiccups, Danielle could clearly see that Keesha didn’t think she deserved to be loved. And how can you respect and honor something if you don’t know its worth?

  Danielle covertly checked her watch. She knew she had to be heading out to make her flight soon.

  “Do you think we can press charges?” Latoya asked.

  Bless her naïve heart.

  “For what, being stupid?” Keesha said a little sharply.

  And bless her cold one.

  They all
fell silent. They could just as well catch up on each others’ lives but it seemed too hard for any of them to focus on anything but someone from the past completely destroying each of their futures.

  There was enough doom and gloom around the table and she hadn’t wanted to add to the oppressive weight of it by dwelling on her illness. She swallowed down her own issues to ensure she added nothing extra to their plates. Just like I did in the past.

  And that didn’t sit well with her. Ever since her days in foster care she had learned not to show her constant hurt and disappointment. Not to let anyone see what she really felt. She carried that trait into her friendships with these ladies, putting their feelings first as she buried her own. In time she had come to resent their reliance on her as the strong one, the problem solver, the Mama Bear.

  I can’t go back to that, she thought. Especially now when I have less time left to honor myself and what I want and need for me.

  And she knew then that even as she yearned for them in the hospital the night she collapsed that she would not share her diagnosis with them. Everyone was deep in the forest of their own troubles and she wouldn’t add this additional fret to their lives.

  Five years had passed but she loved them too much to do that. Just like Mohammed.

  Danielle pushed her half-filled glass of wine away as she forced herself to sit up straighter in her chair and as she glanced again at her watch. She not only had to go, she wanted to go.

  “I am not done with Xavier Lofton,” Monica said.

  Danielle eyed her but she looked away. I have a life to live and no time to focus what’s left of it on Xavier.

  There was nothing for any of them do.

  Live and learn. That’s what.

  Danielle felt sadness as she watched Latoya rise and walk into the bathroom. She knew she was going to deal with it all with her pills. Keesha turned to eye Danielle meaningfully and kept looking at her until she stood up and went to the bathroom as well.

  Monica stood up to come and sit in Keesha’s chair, which was to Danielle’s right. “You okay? Is there anything you need? Do you want to talk about it?” she asked with true concern in the dark depths of her eyes.

 

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