by Day, Zuri
“Dinner was fine, the conversation okay, and the night ended early. That’s about it.”
“Thank goodness for that. What about the work front? Any updates?”
She could have kissed Gayle for the change in subject. “Margo is Tracy’s watchdog, snooping around my department and reporting back what she thinks she knows.”
“Are you documenting all of this?” Dynah inquired.
“Absolutely.”
“Girl, what are you going to do if that heifah gets promoted and becomes your boss?”
“Lisa, the day Margo becomes director is the day I resign.”
“And move back to Chicago?” Out of the three, Dynah had been most opposed to her leaving. “Both the NAR and the ABWA meet this week. While I don’t encounter many professionals from the mental health field, I’ll keep my eyes and ears open for opportunities. In Chicago, of course.”
“Of course.”
An hour later, during which time Byron had called twice, the call ended. After spending time with Jayden and ordering his dinner from their favorite Italian eatery, Cynthia walked out on her patio to return his call. As her finger hovered over the phone’s face to redial, it rang in her hand.
“Yes, Lisa?”
“Yes, Lisa,” she mimicked. “Don’t act all innocent like you don’t know what this call is about.”
“I’m not acting.”
Lisa laughed. “You’d get away with that if I didn’t know you so well.”
“Get away with what?”
“And if I hadn’t called you not once, but three times this weekend.”
“What?”
“Uh-huh. You saw my number, but you didn’t check the history, and thought I’d only called once. I called you Friday night, around eight or nine your time, Saturday night, at, like, ten o’clock, and then Sunday morning at two a.m., while driving home after breakfast with a booty call.”
Crickets.
“My thoughts exactly, so either spill the secrets or be exposed.”
“You fight dirty.”
“Don’t hate the boxer, hate the gloves.” They laughed. “So, what happened?”
“Okay, I’ll tell you. But first, you have to swear to me on all you hold dear that you won’t share this with Dynah and Gayle.”
“Ooh, this must be good because all of us share everything.”
“They’ll know eventually. But I have my reasons for why that won’t be right now.”
“Why, other than the fact they’ll be totally opposed to the situation, which, since we’re all grown, shouldn’t be a problem?”
“You’ll just have to believe it’s in my best interests.”
“Okay, I won’t tell them.”
Cynthia sighed, positioned her chair so she’d see if Jayden approached, and got comfortable. “I’m actually glad to talk to somebody about this because I am just . . . so . . . confused right now.”
“About what? Never mind that, start from the beginning.”
She did, from the strange attraction she’d felt on the bus to the concert at the Hollywood Bowl. “I kept thinking the physical reaction was due to my drought.” Lisa laughed at the use of her lingo. “But the more we talked, the more I started liking him as a person, even as I gave myself a hundred reasons why that was not only crazy but impractical. We could have sex and I’d feel better for a couple days. But then what? You know me. I’ve never been able to do the casual thing, never viewed sex as just a means to an orgasmic end.”
“Don’t knock it till you try it, kid, especially with somebody like Big Dick Danny. And speaking of dictation, is his big and have you tried it?”
“Yes, I’ve tried it and, no, it isn’t really that big.”
“Oh, I’m so sorry.”
“Don’t be. It’s the best sex I’ve ever had.”
“For real?”
“I can’t believe I’m telling you this, but then again, you’re about the only person I would.” She looked at the patio door. No Jayden. Still her voice dropped to just above a whisper. “So . . . after the concert, we went to a hotel.”
“I thought he owned a house.”
“He does, but you know how anal I can be.”
“Yes, not comfortable unless where you are looks like a magazine ad.”
“I’m not that bad. Am I?”
“You are your mother’s daughter. Look, you can’t help how you grew up. I’m not ashamed of growing up in broke-down Gary, Indiana. You shouldn’t feel bad that you’re privileged.”
“Thanks for that, Lisa. Sometimes I do.”
“Well, that’s more than I can say for Gayle.”
“True! Anyway, we started kissing and fooling around and when it was time for the clothes to come off, I was disappointed. From your stories, I was looking for—”
“Big Dick Danny?”
“Yes, he isn’t that. But it’s curved, and he did something . . . moved his hips and I came immediately. It was crazy! Then, not even ten minutes later, it happened again. It’s always been hard for me to have an orgasm. But his thing is like magic.”
“When a man hits that G-spot it does feel pretty magical.”
“Is that what happened?”
“Girl, please don’t tell me this is the first time that happened. You’ve already had a baby and are how many years old?”
“Except with Jayden’s father, I’ve rarely had orgasms, and never more than one in a night. I thought it was me.”
“Sounds like things are going to get interesting, because this doesn’t sound like someone you’re going to give up, at least no time soon. And as close as we are, you’re not going to be able to keep this secret forever.”
“I know. In hedging the truth earlier, I already feel bad.”
“Why, you didn’t really go to Knotts Berry Farm?”
“Jayden went with one of his friends while I experienced a different kind of thrill.”
Cynthia shared a few more highlights from her and Byron’s impromptu yet memorable weekend together. She left out the life-saving dramatic ending that had given Byron Carter an even more special place in her heart, figuring there was only so much a friend—even a BFF—could keep to herself.
19
“How’d it go today with Leah?”
It was Tuesday evening. Cynthia had just showered and climbed into bed when Byron rang her phone.
“Aren’t you the one who didn’t want us to talk about her?”
His deep, throaty chuckle sent vibrations through her heat. “You’re right. It’s just that Ava stays so worried about her. She’s a good kid who’s made a couple bad choices. We all want so much for her life to get back on track. This isn’t who she is.”
“I believe you. I want that, too.”
“So, how’s she doing?”
“Our sessions are confidential.”
“How can you say that when she’s a minor?”
“Technically maybe, yes. But in the system, she is being viewed as an adult. This case comes through that system. And even if it didn’t, counselor/client confidentiality would still prevent discussion.”
“Okay, but it’s not like a stranger is asking you.”
“Which is why this feels uncomfortable, and undoubtedly why the association’s stipulation on family was just put in place. Though not a part of her immediate family, you seem to be very much involved in her life. I know your concern is genuine, and so are my constraints regarding this conversation.”
“If something bad was going on with her, if she were having real problems, would you tell me?”
“When a client is facing life-threatening difficulties, we notify the appropriate parties. In this case, one would be your sister.”
An awkward silence followed. Cynthia wanted to break it with a sexy-sounding come-on. But she’d never been good with that kind of flirty stuff. Where is Lisa or Dynah when I need them?
“You didn’t have to go all professional on me,” Byron finally said. “But I hear you. It’s cool. As long as that
doesn’t mean you’re going to decline my invitation to our family Memorial Day barbeque. And before you tell me all the reasons why you can’t chill with me on the holiday, hear me out. This isn’t an intimate gathering with just my family. It’s a tradition that started with a couple of neighboring families, and has grown to an event where on average a hundred people show up.”
“That you assume to know my thoughts is very annoying.”
“Are you going to tell me that Ms. I’m-so-professional-I-wear-a-suit-to-bed wasn’t going to play that card?”
“I do not wear a suit to bed.” It was a struggle not to laugh, but she managed.
“You did the other night. Your birthday suit. And I liked it.”
“You’re incorrigible.”
“Damn, I don’t know what that means, but the way you said it sounds so sexy that I’ll try to make sure and stay that way.”
“It means that your mother probably tried her best but realized there just was no changing you.”
“Are you talking about my mama?”
“Excuse me?”
“Never mind, girl. Just try and act like you weren’t going to turn me down flat and use work-related nonsense as an excuse.”
“I’m not even going to dignify that statement with an answer.”
“Because you’d have to admit that I’m right, again. Although if you’re planning to hang with me, and I hope you are, you should probably get used to that.”
“Were you always so full of yourself?”
“Me? Never that. I’m very much my mother’s son, and say what I know when I know it.” No response, so he continued. “Just like right now I know you’d like me to hit that spot again, the one that had you bucking and squirming this past weekend. My bad, there I go knowing what I know, which is probably going to get me in trouble again.”
Arrogant men normally made her angry. But hearing this “ordinary” guy toss around confidence with such unpretentious nonchalance made her smile. Fifteen minutes after ending the call, turning off the light, and snuggling against her pillow, here she was still thinking about him.
The phone rang. What does he want now? Thinking of their conversation’s steamy ending, she could just about imagine.
“Let me guess. More expertise on the G-spot?”
Silence.
“Hello?”
“What a crass greeting.”
Cynthia sat up straight. “Mother?”
“Unfortunately, yes.”
“I apologize for answering that way. I thought you were . . . never mind. It’s almost one o’clock there. Is something wrong? Dad, Jeffrey, are they . . . ?”
“Everyone is fine, Cynthia, at least until I was jolted with that offensive greeting. I can’t imagine anyone with whom you associate allowing such talk.”
Cynthia bit back an explanation. Sometimes there was no need to waste one’s air. No matter the topic, Anna Marie Hall’s irritation at her daughter came not from present conversation, but from the shame brought on the family almost nine years ago. Cynthia rested her head against the headboard and slowly counted to ten. One peek, two seconds to check the caller ID, and she’d be on her way to sleep right now.
“I hope you haven’t once again lowered your standards to the degree necessary for a gentleman to be comfortable with that type of conversation.”
“Mother, you’ve made your displeasure abundantly clear, and I’ve apologized. May we move on to the reason for this call?”
“I need a reason to call my daughter?”
“It’s been a long day,” Cynthia replied, through a sigh. “I have an early-morning meeting tomorrow, and should be asleep. This—for starters—is why I asked.”
“You’re the one who chose to be a modern woman and join the workforce. Hal Lindsey was more than ready to make you a very comfortably maintained society wife.”
A headache threatened to join Cynthia’s nervous stomach. As hard as she tried and as long as she’d been gone from home, her mother still knew which pushed buttons would get her riled. Knowing that there was no right response, Cynthia turned off the lamp, settled into bed, and after turning down the volume, placed the phone next to her ear so that if her mother asked a question worth answering, she’d know.
After a few seconds of silence, her mom got the message. “I called regarding the upcoming holiday. Because of his impending birthday celebration, your dad and I are planning a low-key holiday, a casual luncheon on the boat. I understand from one of the couples who will be joining us that their son will be home for the holidays. He’s a dentist on the leading edge of technology who’s invented a specialized laser treatment. Even more amazing, he’s still single! I thought this weekend’s casual atmosphere would be a perfect place for the two of you to meet. What time are you arriving?”
“I won’t be coming home for Memorial Day weekend.”
“Why not?”
“I’ve made other plans, and they can’t be changed.”
“With whom, may I ask?”
“With someone you don’t know, Mother, a friend here in Los Angeles.”
“A male friend, I presume?”
Tricky territory. Proceed with caution. “Yes.”
“What does he do?”
“Nothing that tops a dentist with inventions.” Cynthia knew this call had to end, and quickly.
“I’m glad to hear you’re making new friends. I trust you’ve checked his pedigree, as I’ve instructed.”
Pedigree? What’s that mean? Imagining Byron’s likely response made Cynthia almost laugh out loud. “I’m sorry I’ll miss the party, and will phone you this weekend when there’s more time to chat.”
She ended the call. Sleep remained elusive as she pondered the spontaneous decision her mom’s question had prompted. Her head had not planned to accept Byron’s invitation to attend the block party where his family lived. She guessed that tomorrow would be soon enough to tell him what her heart had decided.
20
This was his first since joining the LA Metro Bus Company almost ten years ago, which should have made Byron feel better. But as he sat at the curb in a slightly damaged Metro bus, following a freak accident caused by a texting teen, all he felt was irritated. In fact, he’d been troubled for the past few weeks, ever since Tanya revived the story that he had two children instead of one. He’d kept himself busy, doing just about anything to not think about that loathsome possibility. With time on his hands as he waited for the transportation supervisor, his mind went straight back to that conversation. Even though it wasn’t her first time for doing so, the jeering way she’d told it this time made mentally recalling the conversation almost as traumatic as when it had actually occurred.
“Really, Tanya? This money is for Tyra?” Byron shook his head, still cursing the blasted broken condom and overzealous tadpole that tied him to this woman for at least eight more years. A former classmate and all-around go-to girl in between the would-be wifeys, she’d flipped the personality script as soon as the pregnancy test showed two lines—demanding marriage, money, and most of his time—not necessarily in that order. After almost three years of trying, he’d firmly closed the door on marriage, which only left her to threaten and complain about what she loved most.
“Why are you still on this child-support trip, even though I’ve got primary custody and don’t owe you a dime?”
“Eff that stupid judge and what he said. I still need money for when she’s at my house!”
“Aren’t you working?”
“Yes. So what? I have other mouths to feed.”
“And another man to feed them, their daddy, the man who lives in your house.”
“And handles his business, something you couldn’t do.”
“Then why are you on the phone sweating me about his children?”
“Look, Byron, can I get the three hundred or not? I promise I’ll give it back as soon as I get my income tax check.”
Byron knew the truth. If Tanya gave him all the money she owed peop
le, he could retire. He almost said this, but didn’t want to fight. “Tanya, I have said and the court agrees that because I have primary custody, you are not owed additional child support. Alimony either, because—thank God—we were never married.”
“Yeah, and that’s probably your biggest regret, huh?”
No, my biggest regret is buying a generic box of gloves. Trying to save five dollars is going to cost me fifty stacks in college tuition. “Tanya, I’ve got stuff to do. I’m getting off the phone.”
“You’re not going to give me the money, for real? It’s for little Ricky. We’re enrolling him in a baseball league. He needs a uniform and gloves and stuff. All you do is work, so I know you’ve got it.”
“Get it from the man who handles his business.” He’d promised otherwise but couldn’t resist the sarcasm. When they were together, Byron took care of everything. He loved Tanya and Tyra, and manned up to his responsibilities. But he caught her in a lie and soon the whole web of fabrications unraveled to reveal that she’d cheated on him with Ricky the whole time. “Since according to you he’s so much the man, have him take care of his son, like I take care of my daughter.”
“You mean take care of your son?” she asked, her tone as light and airy as carbon dioxide, and just as deadly.
Byron sighed. “You already know that lie won’t work.”
“Who says I’m lying?”
“If that boy were really mine, you wouldn’t be waiting until now to let me know.”
“I didn’t. You knew when I was pregnant that he was yours.”
“I knew what you told me, which isn’t always the truth. You told Rick the same thing.”
“I told Rick what he wanted to hear.”
“Your greedy behind wouldn’t have cared about that. Not if you could get my money. Now say I’m wrong.”
“I’ll say you’re stupid, that’s what I’ll say. Most men are . . . can’t even do simple math. And what happens? Their children end up calling another man daddy. Bye, Byron.”
“No, Tanya, wait—”
But she’d hung up the phone.
Since then she’d either dodged his calls or his questions regarding the boy, which bothered him as much as her trying to get him to believe that little Ricky was his child. Why had she begun this again after all this time? Was it like his brother Douglas believed, that her and Ricky’s father were on the outs? He tried to convince himself that either this was it or she was lying. But what if she wasn’t? Byron hated the mere thought that he may have a son seven years old whom he didn’t know.