I Will Remember You

by L. Jaye Morgan

  Her sub was a sweet lady, if a little timid. Ms. Warren, “but call me Katie,” she’d said, was a young white woman who struck Gianna as the Teach for America type. She’d probably come straight from a mid-tier university with stars in her eyes and lint in her pockets. The kids seemed used to interrupting her and talking over her but Gianna nipped that in the bud real quick.

  The day went by pretty fast. Gianna listened as the sub taught and then she graded some of the work that had backed up in her absence. She was surprised by how much she remembered. It was almost like she’d never left.

  Just before she left, Gianna remembered to check her email, and when she logged into her account, her stomach dropped. Two-hundred sixty-six emails. Two-hundred sixty-six annoying-ass, bullshit emails she would have to answer. One by one. She loved teaching; it was the administrative tasks that sucked the life out of her.

  She quickly formulated a plan. The kids were doing group work and Ms. Warren was grading papers or maybe on her cell—Gianna couldn’t tell. She decided to spend about ten minutes sifting through her inbox. That would make it much easier to tackle down the road.

  She quickly deduced that most of the emails were well-wishes from parents and other teachers. She created a new folder and promptly moved them there. She would personally respond to each one, but not today.

  She then filtered through the students’ emails. Not as many well-wishes there which was fine. They were assholes, after all. It was mostly questions about grades and assignments. Also fine. Teenagers are self-centered. It’s a normal part of adolescence and she knew not to take it personally. She would answer those later. Maybe at home, if Tremaine still wasn’t speaking to her.

  Just the thought of him made her shiver. Those eyes. Those dimples. He was sexy as hell and it was driving her crazy. She wanted him. There, she admitted it to herself. She wanted him, and she knew he wanted her too. There was no reason to fight it.

  Despite her surroundings, she allowed her eyes to close. She thought about the kiss. She envisioned it and relived the moment his soft, full lips slowly and gently pressed against hers. It’s amazing how much passion can be expressed in such a simple action. It might sound crazy but she swore she felt emotion in that kiss. How could that even be possible? She wasn’t sure, but she had felt something. Something real.

  Something hit the floor and Gianna’s eyes flew open. Richard Parks had dropped his book on the floor. Asshole.

  She turned her attention back to her computer screen and noticed something odd. There was a folder titled “Lesson Plans,” and nested inside of it was another folder entitled “Fall.” Nested inside that one was a folder called “Emails” and inside, another folder. Then another. And another. It was like that long passage in the Bible; each folder begat another which begat another. And on and on, until she reached the final folder entitled “Other Lesson Plans.” She clicked it and was immediately perplexed by what she saw. There, tucked inside, were four-hundred messages, all of them read, all of them from Sherrod McKinley.

  With a trembling hand, she scrolled down the page, past message after message, each with a scintillating subject line: “Hey Sexy.” “Last Night.” “Missing You.” “RE: Need to See You.” “You Look So Good Today.” They went on and on, going all the way back to a year ago.

  The first message wasn’t that bad:

  G,

  I have something I need to talk to you about. Hit me back.

  She skipped all the way to the last message. It was dated in early September. Gianna opened it, hoping it held a clue that might bring clarity to everything. Instead, it filled her with dread:

  Sexy,

  As usual, I woke up with you on my mind. It’s been awhile and I need to see you. I need to touch you again and feel your body against mine. To kiss those soft lips. I need to taste you, to please you, to give you every inch of me. I know you miss me too. I don’t know what happened or if I did something wrong but whatever it is, I’m sorry. Stop fighting this and come back where you belong.

  “Mrs. Harris, I have a question.”

  With trembling fingers, Gianna quickly closed the window and spun around in her chair. It was Garrett Brown. He was a sweet young man, a teacher’s pet if there ever was one. He was the only student to send her flowers. “Yes?” she asked.

  “Do we still have to do the social studies fair?”

  What? She searched her mind and couldn’t come up with anything. Embarrassment quickly set in. “You know what, let me think about it and I’ll let you know tomorrow.”

  That answer seemed to satisfy him. She must have assigned it before the incident. Whatever, she couldn’t worry about that now.

  She was frustrated. It seemed everything in her life could be divided into one of two columns: before the incident and after the incident. And truth be told, she wasn’t all that crazy about the before and the way it was seeping into the after. Poisoning it. Tainting it. Ruining her recovery. It was too much.

  Her day was officially over. She needed to go home.

  GIANNA TOOK HER SHOES off, popped a pain pill, and climbed into bed. She was sleeping good, too, until Kaya came and woke her up. “Mommy?” she said. “Wake up. You need to start dinner.”

  Bleary-eyed, Gianna stared at her daughter. “What time is it?”

  “It’s almost 6.”

  That didn’t sound right. She’d slept for five hours? “Alright, give me a second.”

  Kaya left and Gianna stumbled out of bed in her wrinkled dress, making her way downstairs on legs still shaky from sleep. To her surprise, Tremaine was sitting there on the couch watching Sportscenter.

  Shit! She wondered how bad she looked. It was too late to care. He had already spotted her. “Hey,” he said, his voice low. “You okay?”

  “I’m fine.” She looked around. Kaya’s school crap was strewn this way and that and Tremaine’s bag and shoes were in the middle of the floor. In his hand was a bottle of beer which he drank from and then set down on her coffee table with no coaster. NO COASTER. “What’s going on in here?” she asked.

  “I’m doing my homework,” Kaya said without looking up from her book.

  “I’m just chillin’,” Tremaine said.

  Gianna blinked at the scene. “Did it ever occur to either one of y’all to go ahead and start dinner? Or at the very least, straighten up in here? I went to work today and—”

  “I can tell. You look nice,” Tremaine said, his dimples almost weakening her resolve.

  “Thanks. Anyway, I’m a little irritated. Two able-bodied people sitting up in here and nobody thought to cook or clean something?”

  Tremaine and Kaya looked at each other and back to Gianna. She massaged her temples and took a deep breath. “Sorry. I don’t mean to snap at y’all. I’m just tired and frustrated.”

  “Come sit down,” Tremaine said. “Just relax. I’ll order a pizza or something.”

  “No, we’ve been doing that a lot lately. She needs some real food,” Gianna said, gesturing to Kaya.

  He thought for a moment. “Fine. I’ll make something.”

  Gianna frowned. “You cook?”

  Tremaine laughed. “I guess we’ll find out in a minute. K, straighten up your stuff.”

  Tremaine went to the kitchen and Kaya set about cleaning up her mess. Gianna fell onto the couch and tried to relax, wondering why it all felt so normal.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

  “WATER BOTTLES?”

  “Check.”

  “Grapes?”

  “Check.”

  “Chips and crackers?”

  “Got ‘em.”

  “What shoes are you wearing?”

  “My Uggs.”

  “Good idea. Okay, I think that’s everything.” Gianna surveyed her daughter and frowned. “Why are you carrying a tote bag? My tote bag.”

  “To hold all the stuff,” Kaya said.

  “No, I have my big bag to put everything in. Just throw your stuff in here so you can wear your crossbody,” Gian
na said, gesturing toward her brown leather tote.

  Kaya eyed Gianna suspiciously. “Why? My crossbody is too small.”

  “Because that big bag will get heavy on your shoulder the longer we’re out.” That wasn’t the real reason. In undergrad, Gianna had worked long enough as an undercover department store security guard to know exactly how they operate. Profiling is inevitable if you’re black but she didn’t want to put any extra attention on Kaya. No big bags for her.

  Kaya pouted. “Fine. Do you want me to just put everything back in your bag?”

  “Uh, yeah. And then put it back on the shelf where you got it. And hurry up.”

  It was time for their annual Black Friday shopping binge. Thanksgiving at Emmy’s had gone okay. It was weird without Justin around and Kaya was quiet the entire night. Gianna wasn’t in the mood to cook and if there was ever anything that was gonna get her out of it, it was almost dying. Emmy and Beverly did all the cooking and Gianna sat on her ass, daydreaming about Tremaine.

  She missed him. He had offered to skip Thanksgiving with his family but she wouldn’t hear it. Only the promise that she would stay over at Emmy’s got him out of there and on the plane to Houston.

  But today wasn’t about him, or the letter, or Justin, or Sherrod, or anything else. It was about her and Kaya. The tradition started four years ago after Gianna finally indoctrinated Kaya into the wonders of the mall. For years, she had worried that her daughter wouldn’t take any interest in girly things. The girl didn’t even care if her clothes matched. Then one day it clicked and she asked to go with her mother to the mall to get some shoes she had her eye on. For Gianna, it was like the clouds broke on their entire relationship. It sounds superficial but she had spent years trying to find common ground with her. She was a daddy’s girl and Gianna took no issue with that. She was simply desperate for them to have their own thing the shared. And now she had it.

  She had been so excited on their first mall trip that she splurged on a Coach crossbody. Justin had a fit, arguing that no nine-year-old girl needed a designer bag. He was right, of course, but he didn’t have the heart to take it from her. Instead, he fussed at Gianna and sulked for hours.

  “I’m ready,” Kaya announced. “Let’s go!”

  “Okay, don’t rush me,” Gianna said, secretly delighted with Kaya’s enthusiasm.

  The Galleria lot was crowded as usual but Gianna didn’t mind. They were prepared. She had on her walking shoes. They ended up all the way on the end and it took them almost five minutes to get to the door. The closer they got, the more energized Gianna felt.

  They started at one end of the mall and worked their way to the other, hitting up all of their favorite stores. Most people used Black Friday to Christmas shop; those two used it to shop for themselves.

  They had just left Nordstrom when Kaya elbowed Gianna’s ribs. “Mommy, do you see that man over there?”

  “What man?” she asked, reflexively looking around.

  “No! Don’t look! He’s over to your left. He has one a grey hoodie and jeans. Okay, look now.”

  Gianna swiveled her head to the left and saw him immediately. The first thing she noticed was that he was fine. Tall, dark, and nicely built. “That’s a grown man, Kaya, you don’t need to be looking at him. Although I’m glad to see you have good taste.”

  “No, not that. He was staring at you.”

  “Oh. Yeah, that happens.” All the time. And it used to happen to Emmy, too. Gianna remembered the first time she realized men were staring. “Emmy, why are people always staring at you?” she’d asked, and Emmy simply replied, “because I look good.”

  Kaya elbowed Gianna again. “I saw him when we were at Sephora, too.”

  “Okay, stop jabbing me with them pointy elbows. And it’s the mall. There are a lot of people here.”

  “But I think he’s watching you.”

  “Kaya, just ignore him.”

  They continued walking until they got to the Cookie Emporium. Kaya’s favorite. The line was ridiculously long, stretching all the way down to Foot Locker. Gianna deposited Kaya in the line before sitting on a nearby bench. She promised to switch places in ten minutes but her feet were hurting and she needed a break.

  She sat there on the bench and scrolled through the feed on her phone when she heard a voice, deep and raspy and dangerously close to her ear. “Hey, beautiful.”

  Startled, she whirled around and came face to face with the man in the grey hoodie. There was something familiar about him but she couldn’t quite place it.

  “Excuse me?” she said, rubbing her earlobe.

  “I didn’t wanna approach you with your daughter right there. How are you?”

  Bewildered. “Fine.” She squinted, trying her hardest to remember. “I apologize for having to ask this but...where do I know you from?”

  The man frowned. “Are you serious?”

  She debated telling him about the attack and amnesia but didn’t want to out herself and her situation for the ridiculous soap opera that it was. Instead, she lied. “I was just kidding. How are you?”

  “I’m alright, just working. And missing you.”

  Oh my God. “Yeah, same. When’s the last time we saw each other?” she asked, trying her hardest to sound nonchalant.

  “Shit, I don’t even know. It’s been a minute. Listen, I gotta run. My wife’s around here somewhere but I didn’t wanna see you and not speak. Why don’t you hit me up sometime?”

  Wife? “Okay...um, I lost my old phone. Do you have a card on you?”

  “Yeah.” He pulled out his wallet and removed a card. She took it eagerly, not because she was looking forward to talking to him, but because it was yet another piece of the puzzle. “Thanks. Maybe I’ll see you around.”

  “I hope so. Call me, girl. For real.” He winked and walked away, leaving her shell-shocked. Another one?

  Before she could make any sense of the encounter, Kaya walked up with tears in her eyes. “What’s wrong?” she asked.

  The girl shook her head and then rushed headlong onto her mother. An alarmed Gianna wrapped her arms around her and rocked her. “Did something happen? Did somebody do something to you?”

  “Noooo,” Kaya sobbed. “I wanna go home.”

  “WHAT HAPPENED BACK there?” Gianna asked. They were safely locked inside the car headed back to Emmy’s.

  “The smell of the cookies. It just...it reminded me of Daddy.”

  Gianna sighed. Of course. Justin had taken Kaya to the Cookie Emporium near their house at least once a month since she was old enough to chew. “I’m sorry, Sweetpea. I didn’t even think about that.”

  Kaya said nothing. The two rode in silence and Gianna felt worse the closer they got to the house. Her daughter was suffering and there wasn’t a damn thing she could do about it. And to make matters worse, she’d just come into contact with a man who she very well may have been cheating on her husband with. Another man, to be precise.

  Is this really my life?

  GIANNA GOT KAYA CALM and into bed in the guest room. They said a prayer for Justin in heaven and for Kaya to be strong and to have peace. Gianna turned the light off and was about to close the door when Kaya said something odd.

  “Did you get a new phone?”

  Gianna frowned. “Yeah, Uncle Tre got it for me, you’ve seen it.”

  Kaya shook her head. “No, there was another phone. I found it in your tote bag.”

  Goosebumps erupted all over Gianna’s arms. “What did it look like?” she asked.

  “It was black and plain.”

  Gianna’s mind raced. She had no idea what Kaya was talking about. “Where is it now?”

  Kaya yawned her disinterest. “I put it back in the bag.”

  “Okay,” Gianna said, distracted and on the verge of breaking down. “Good night.”

  Emmy was waiting for her in the Emmy in the living room. “How’s she doing?”

  Gianna shrugged and fell onto the couch. “I don’t know. You should have
seen her. It was like she had an anxiety attack or something.”

  “I told you to get that baby into some counseling. What are you waiting for?”

  “I don’t know. I’ll call on Monday. First thing.” She sat back on the couch and put her feet up, spent from the day’s events. “I’m honestly surprised you suggested that. Usually, church folks try to get you to pray the problems away.”

  Emmy rolled her eyes. “I’m not part of church folk.”

  “Emmy. Come on, now. You’re at church every Sunday in your white dress and hat sitting with the rest of the mother board. How are you not church folk?”

  Emmy shook her head. “I’m in the church but not of the church.”

  Gianna laughed. “Okay, Emmy. Whatever you say.”

  “I don’t even like the church. It’s more social for me than anything else. It’s a habit.”

  Gianna raised her eyebrows. “I never knew that. So you just...pretend to be into it?”

  “If that’s how you wanna look at it, I won’t stop you.” Emmy seemed annoyed so Gianna thought it best to leave it alone. Besides, she had other things on her mind.

  GIANNA LEFT KAYA AT Emmy’s. She didn’t want to but she had too much going on to deal with Kaya’s mood swings and feelings. As she drove down the street toward her house, she thought she saw Sherrod’s car—a black Charger—at the end of the block. She slowed to a crawl and stared but she couldn’t tell if anyone was inside.

  She told herself she was just being silly. Sherrod had made it perfectly clear that he was done with her. If that was true, he would have no reason to be lurking around her house. She sped up and pulled into the garage. After she turned off the alarm, she ran straight upstairs to her closet. There it was, at the bottom of her tote bag. A black phone, just like Kaya said.

  She stared at it for several seconds before investigating. There were no text messages. She wasn’t even sure if there was an option to send them; the phone was rather primitive. But there were plenty of phone calls, and all of them to a number she didn’t recognize. It was the same number, over and over again.