Nappily in Bloom

by Trisha R. Thomas

  Surely Mya recognized him, whether he was carrying bags of theater popcorn or amusement park cotton candy—or in this case, wearing handcuffs.

  I finally managed to turn the television off.

  The colorful keys started playing once again. I breathed a sigh of relief. She didn’t ask any questions. Though there was a bit more urgency in her song, a few keys pounded hard for good measure. I went back to concentrating on Mya’s hair, then stopped suddenly staring at the goo all over my hands. I wiped them on a towel then pulled the tight bands loose. I guessed Airic wasn’t coming. The image of him in handcuffs, his head pressed down into a squad car played over with the pertinent questions: What? When? Where?

  “Okay, sweetie, all done.” I scooped her up from her armpits, helping her to her feet.

  “You didn’t finish my hair, Mommy.”

  “I know, sweetie, but I think it looks prettier this way.” I fluffed it out and let the spirals move out of control.

  I didn’t wish Airic any ill will; however, I couldn’t help but feel a little reprieve. After what I’d just seen on the news, I figured this would be a weekend he’d probably skip. The relief of not having to deal with Jake’s dissension and Mya being caught in the middle of it all gave me a minute of peace. “Give me a kiss,” I said, puckering up.

  Mya stuck out her lips and closed her eyes.

  The doorbell interrupted our lovefest. No . . . it can’t be. I tiptoed through the foyer and pressed my eye against the peephole. Standing at the door was Airic. His usually pale skin was flushed, since the temperature outside was wintry cool. His hands rested in his jacket pockets, posed for nonchalance—but from the way his jaw clenched, he was the picture of annoyance. He knocked hard, startling me because my face had been pressed too close.

  I opened the door. “I thought . . . I thought you might be detained.” Shoot, I meant to say held up, or freakishly late, not sure what to say next. “Did someone post bail?” Darn it, that hadn’t come out right.

  “Can I come in?” he asked.

  I was envisioning Jake coming down the stairs, turning the corner, seeing Airic sitting on his couch and not being happy about it. I was thinking not a good idea, but I pushed the door wide for his entrance.

  “You saw the news.” He cut his eyes from me to Mya, then back in my direction. “It’s not what it looks like.”

  “I saw you.” Mya held my hand slightly tighter than usual. “Why’d-day-take-you-away?”

  “How’s my girl?” Airic kneeled down, offering a kiss. Mya pulled back. “We’re going to have a great time this weekend.”

  Mya skirted behind my leg, knowing the okeydoke when she saw it. She’d started school six weeks ago, boldly claiming her brave new world. She was hardly shy. Every day was an adventure as she tested the waters of independence. This was the most reserved I’d seen her in some time.

  “I guess that’s a good question. What happened? Is it true?” I finally chimed in. No need to let a preschooler do all the investigating.

  “I don’t think it’s something we should talk about in front of Mya.”

  “Little too late for that,” I said before hearing footsteps coming down the stairs and then Jake’s voice before he saw us.

  “Babe, did you see the news? Oh man, you’ll never believe this.” Jake stopped in his tracks. One side of his face still had shaving foam. The other side smooth and dewy. He used the towel thrown over his shoulder to wipe himself completely clean. Another towel was wrapped around his hips. Tonight was actually date night. Legend was being babysat by a new conquest he’d met in Atlanta. So it was going to be just Jake and me.

  Certainly we took advantage of the visitation weekends. As much as we didn’t want her gone, we made the best of it, forcing ourselves out for dinner and drinks. Come Saturday morning, we usually lay in bed till noon, pretending to enjoy the peace and silence. By Sunday we shared awkward silence and sparse conversation, anticipating Mya’s safe return.

  “Okay, listen, honey, I was just about to talk to Airic. Maybe you can take Mya upstairs.” Silence was supposed to be golden. Here in the Johnston-Parson household, it was an indication of disharmony, most times the precursor to a brooding war. Like now, the words unspoken between Jake and Airic was like a stream of flammable liquid. I stepped between the two before someone struck a match.

  “Nah, whatever he has to say, he can say in front of all of us. You know, one big happy family.” Jake folded his arms over his bare chest. His muscular arms gleamed from the fresh shower.

  “Jake . . .”

  “Go ahead, let’s hear your version,” he said. “I just saw your face plastered on the news with the words statutory rape charge. Not good company for my daughter.”

  “Your daughter?”

  “I didn’t stutter, and don’t ever doubt it.” Jake stood firm, adjusting the towel snug around his waist. Still he was in no position to be picking fights. Naked wrestling would definitely be considered a demerit, since everyone was keeping score.

  “Stop it, please. Let’s not forget Mya is here. We’re the adults,” I half whispered. “Let’s act like it.”

  “Yes, I think that’s wise,” Airic said, extending his hand toward Mya. “I’ll have her back early Saturday. I have to leave town on Sunday.”

  Jake pushed his hand back. “Nah, man, I don’t think so. We’re going to have to put a stall on the visits until . . . well, until whenever.” He rested his case.

  I could see the anger rising. Airic’s earlobes turning a bright pink. Jake simply puffed up like he was ready and definitely waiting.

  “You don’t know any of the facts, and frankly it’s none of your business. I have visitation, regardless of your opinion. You don’t have that authority. I have a court order that says I have every other weekend. This is my weekend.”

  “Oh, so my run-in with the law had nothing to do with you trying to get custody? And you didn’t try to use everything you could against us? Now those little details don’t matter?” Jake slapped his hand into his palm. “You are charged with rape? Wait, I forgot about the domestic battery. You’re a bona fide criminal. If you think you’re taking my daughter out of here, you’re crazy.”

  “Okay, enough,” I said.

  “I’m not leaving here without Mya,” Airic said flatly.

  “Oh, you’re leaving. Either walking out or carried. Your choice.”

  Mya rushed behind Jake. It was pretty clear her decision was not to leave, and I knew Jake would do whatever was necessary to honor it. More important, that towel wasn’t very secure. It was time to intervene.

  “No.” I held up my hands, one for each of them. “Airic, please, Mya doesn’t want to go. Please, outside.” I opened the door. “Go!” I ordered.

  “Don’t let the doorknob . . . Well, you know the rest,” Jake said with a smirk only to add more gasoline to the flame.

  I closed the door, grateful for the wood-and-glass separation, even though I knew Jake was still hovering by the door, listening.

  “Look, I’m sorry about everything that’s happened to you. But Jake is right. We don’t know the details. I think it’s best until you’re cleared of wrongdoing to suspend visitation.” I was starting to sound like a lawyer. A bad sign that I’d spent way too much time in too many courtrooms.

  “I didn’t rape anyone. The young woman in the tape was Trevelle’s assistant. She seduced me. I only found out she was three days shy of her eighteenth birthday when the authorities came knocking on my door. She gave the tape to authorities because Trevelle and I had reconciled. She was jealous.” He dropped his head. “I should’ve known better, but I was so hurt over everything Trevelle had done. I was a fool. . . .” He seemed to be babbling now, and I had no idea what he was talking about.

  I touched his sleeve. “I’m sure it will be okay. All right?” My neck craned upward to get a feel for his guilt or innocence. Not much about Airic had changed over the years. Grayish-brown hair with no delineation as to which was gray and which w
as sandy brown. He was close to fifty by now or already there. I’d lost count of his exact age, as I’d lost count of how many things about him irked me to no end. Like his air of superiority or the way his Adam’s apple bobbed incessantly before he spoke, or his need to enunciate the more the other person didn’t.

  “As far as me being arrested for domestic battery, it’s not true. Trevelle told the officers it was an accident. I was defending myself from her knife-wielding, and those asinine idiots still arrested me.”

  “She tried to stab you?” I swallowed the information, making more of a case for Mya not to be around the craziness.

  “She did, but it was a butter knife. Things just got out of control. I said some things she didn’t deserve. Trevelle doesn’t deserve this,” he said quietly.

  Oh right, like she’s an innocent lamb. Hey, did you hear the one about her having her baby in the back of her pimp’s car then leaving it for dead?

  He looked so dejected, I couldn’t add insult to injury. I shrugged my shoulders. “I’m sure Trevelle will find peace with prayer,” I said, and wondered if I was becoming a talking zombie. Lately nothing I said matched my thoughts. Always a quest to appease and avoid conflict. This kinder, gentler version was starting to wear thin.

  “I’m really sorry you’re going through this, Airic. Let’s just say we postpone the visit this time and play it by ear. I think Mya’s really shaken up. Next weekend she’ll be good as new, but right now she seems a little rattled.”

  “You’re right. I shouldn’t have come here in this mood, but seeing my daughter is the only happiness I have left right now.”

  Now that was funny. The old me would’ve fallen down laughing. After all, it was outright funny, coming from the same man who didn’t even want to hold Mya when she was born. Did I dare remind him how he’d refused to see her if he couldn’t have me as part of the package. But instead I nodded. “I know the feeling. She’s my joy, too.”

  The overcast sky broke slowly to reveal a full, bright moon. Airic squinted toward the light as if looking for his own break, a minute to take in a breath. “I’ll give it till next weekend,” he said. “Should I go in and apologize to Mya, for upsetting her?”

  “No . . . no. No need. I’ll explain.” I heard Jake move away from the door, finally satisfied.

  Jake

  He’d settled Mya in the kitchen with a hastily poured glass of milk and a couple of errant Oreo cookies. He planned on cleaning up the spill later. Eavesdropping on Airic had been far more important. Eavesdropping, listening against the door best he could without casting a shadow. He then tiptoed away before Venus headed back inside.

  Airic Fisher had become a thorn in his side since the day he showed up demanding parental rights to the child he’d abandoned at birth. Jake had been there from day one and still legally had no foothold. His name wasn’t on the birth certificate, simple as that. During their court battle, he’d desperately hoped the DNA test came back with him being the father. His wish had been granted—only to find out someone had falsified the results. They’d yet to find out who. That’s when he knew for sure he couldn’t care less about the biology of the situation.

  He’d never known unconditional love until the moment he set eyes on Mya. He was there the day she was born. He would never forget the way her tiny hand wrapped around his pinkie finger as if to say, It’s you and me, Pops.

  The laws of the world were archaic and bent on preserving the rights of those who didn’t deserve them. He could’ve legally adopted Mya had he not been focused on saving his company and defending himself from a stint in prison for a murder he didn’t commit. Let’s just say things got out of hand. The window of opportunity closed tight, and next thing they knew, Airic was knocking on it with his face pressed against the glass every other weekend. Him arriving to pick up Mya was a constant reminder of Jake’s past mistakes. How not being proactive, and resting on assumptions left everything to chance. This, too, he’d planned to fix. No more missed opportunities.

  “What’d he say?” He wiped the puddle of milk from the table-top. Mya had eaten her cookies and was long gone to play in her fairy-tale bedroom.

  “I convinced him to give it a rest and come back next weekend.”

  “Why?” Jake shrugged his bare shoulders. “He’s still going to be a rapist and wife abuser next weekend, and the next.”

  “Honey . . . enough. I don’t want to talk about this anymore. This day has been long and crazy enough.”

  It dawned on Jake. “Did he ever raise his hand to you? Try anything crazy?”

  Silence.

  “No, right, I guess I know better than that.”

  She eventually spoke, taking the sponge out of his hand. “Airic blames the leak of the tape on the jilted lover. Sounds more like something Trevelle would do to me. That woman . . .” She shook her head. “Treacherous.”

  “Hey, I don’t give a damn about Trevelle or whatever she did to drive him into somebody else’s arms. The fact remains, he slept with an underage girl. He’s a criminal.”

  “I wasn’t trying to make excuses.”

  “Yes, you were.”

  She dropped the sponge into the sink and put the milk back in the refrigerator. “Good night.”

  “Okay, wait. I’m sorry. I just hate when you defend him.”

  “I don’t defend him.”

  “You don’t realize it, but you do. A lot.”

  “Sometimes I just feel sorry for him.”

  He threw up his hands to say exhibit A.

  “Because he’s so pitiful. I mean, really. He’s fifty years old and still can’t get it right. This is his third marriage.”

  “Well, maybe he’ll let you be the maid of honor at his fourth.” Jake left her standing in the kitchen.

  Not more than a few seconds later, he was back. “Observe this, understand it, take a picture—I don’t give a—” Her raised brow slowed his pitch. “All I’m saying is this: I don’t trust a man who has to be manipulated into loving his daughter. He has no spine. The only reason he’s showing up now is because Trevelle thought it would be a good idea to have a picture-perfect family. I never did like that punk. I don’t trust him, and he’s not going to spend a minute alone with Mya until he’s cleared of these charges. I don’t care if his wife is a manipulative scheming liar. I don’t care if he’s innocent as a newborn. His ass is cut off.”

  This time he left for real, taking the stairs two at a time. He was still dressed in nothing but a towel. That was about to change because he was out of there.

  “I have to go out,” was all he said as he came out of the bathroom fully dressed, shaved, and smelling as good as he looked.

  “Where’re you going?”

  “I’m meeting Legend in the District. We’re going to talk and have drinks.” He pulled out his Brunos and slid his feet into the expensive shoes.

  “And this was planned when—considering this is our official date night?”

  “Not much of a date.”

  “Please stay home with me.” She blinked slowly, then rested her hand on his chest. Asking nicely was a ploy. It wasn’t her style.

  “Is this a trap?” He pulled her down on his lap.

  “Is it working?” Her hands slipped under his linen shirt. She kissed the opening where a silver cross lay on his chest, then ran her tongue up to his neck.

  He wrapped his arms around her waist and pressed his face into her hair. The products she used made her smell like freshly baked sugar cookies.

  “Yes, I’d say it’s working.” Like a moth to a flame, he met her lips. He loved the soft wetness of her mouth as it rose to full bloom against his own. He held her head, caressed the base of her neck like there was no time limit.

  He eased her T-shirt over her head, exposing her nipples to the cool air. He licked and nibbled on her chest then moved to the flatness of her belly where only a year earlier she’d carried his son. He pressed his face deep and inhaled. He tried not to think about getting her pregnant, t
hough that was his wish. He traced the thin scar above her pubic line and lingered too long.

  “Just make love to me, babe,” she whispered.

  She knew what he was thinking, reading his thoughts. She knew how badly he wanted a second try. She cupped his face with her hands, bringing him up toward her. “Fuck me,” she breathed out near his ear. Meaning for him to shut out the rest of the noise. Giving him permission to take and receive.

  A reckless flow surged as if he were being granted access for the first time. Greedy impatience took over. He lifted her, straddling her legs around his waist. She thought he was carrying her to the bed, but went in the opposite direction, up against the wall. She panted with anticipation. He pushed every inch of himself inside her. She held on for dear life while he delved deep into the warmth of her skin.

  “Promise me,” he moaned, elevating her with each upward stroke. His voice cracked from the ache and pleasure at the same time.

  “I promise,” she whispered. “I . . . to love you forever,” she managed to finish against the crush of his weight. That’s all he needed to hear. He poured his soul into her body until there was nothing left.

  Somehow they’d made it to the bed. Jake stirred when he felt her hand stroke his shoulder. Post-sex pillow talk was the most revealing, the most honest. The goal of getting the prize was all out of the way.

  Her perfect time to ask, “Is there something on your mind, baby? I mean, besides Airic . . . this whole thing with Legend being here seems a little strange.”

  He touched her face and leaned in for a kiss. Before she knew it, the moistness of his mouth had her breasts. Sucking and licking one at a time like they were his favorite flavor of ice cream. She scooted down into the softness of the sheets.

  He teased and tantalized every hot zone she had until she was delirious with heat. The friction of his fingers and skillful tongue pushed her right to the edge until she was begging. She clamped her eyes shut. The climax came so hard, tears sprang from her eyes.