“She didn’t look happy to see you.” She crossed her arms. “Is that why you slipped out the night she was here? What if she comes back?”
“Delilah, relax. There’s nothing to worry about.” He was not in the mood to discuss Torri with anyone. He couldn’t explain even if he wanted to. It was back to business until he figured out his next move. “Now, I’m leaving for DC early tomorrow. Jake and Allen have everything under control here.”
Over the last eight months, his restaurant in DC proved to be a handful; the staff was not as reliable as his New York team. Each visit raised his blood pressure several notches higher. But, after the internal torture he endured from his ill-fated reunion with Torri since his return to he embraced the chance to visit the DC location a visit and an opportunity to check with his new manager, Philip Griffin. He headed to his office before Delilah proceeded with her interrogation.
Antonio stared at the tropical fish in his seventy-five gallon aquarium. Watching the colorful fish swim back and forth always relaxed him. If ever there was a time Antonio wanted to kick himself -- it was in front of Torri, with his face on the floor, when she let him have it with one single word. Coward. Speechless and not sure how to respond, he studied the rage in her brown eyes. He searched for a glimmer of the twinkle he remembered when they were in high school. Torri was right. He was a coward. It took him three high school years before he shared how he felt about her. By then she was on her way to NYU and the success she was now. He became a dropout and abandoned Torri and the past behind him. He had nothing to offer her then, but now he owned two successful restaurants with a third on the way.
He screwed up and understood it would take more than prosperity and success to regain Torri’s trust. Antonio shook food into the aquarium and watched the fish swim after the flakes floating in slow motion toward the tiny rocks and plants spread across the bottom. His shoulders loosened up and finally he sank into his soft leather desk chair. He couldn’t ignore that Torri was back in his life. He’d jump at any opportunity to gain her forgiveness.
A light knock at the door seized his attention. The door eased open.
“Antonio, I almost forgot. Ms. Taylor left you a ticket for her gallery opening tomorrow night. Should I pass it along since you won’t be here?”
Delilah pulled an envelope from her appointment book and placed it in his outstretched hand.
Torri Taylor cordially invites you to attend the grand opening of her Harlem Rose Gallery.
“That won’t be necessary, Dee. Call Philip in DC and tell him I need him to handle things over there for a few more days.”
Antonio glanced at the ticket again. He grinned. Fate handed him another chance and he wouldn’t miss it. He slid his fingers across the embossed gold lettering. The ticket had “opportunity” written all over it.
Chapter Four
The sun’s heat still blazed as a whisper of pink and orange swept the horizon. A gentle evening breeze teased an old elm tree’s leaves, as it danced back and forth outside of her brownstone. Torri watched nature’s affectionate interaction for a moment before she shut her eyes. She’d lost track of how much time passed since the cab dropped her home. She’d plopped down on her front steps the moment she sprung from the cab and replayed her unexpected encounter with Antonio countless times. Flustered with disappointment, she attempted to forget how she tingled when she looked at him.
Just as things came together for Torri and she mulled over dating Marcus, the one person she loved, for as much as she understood about love as a teenager, materialized. What was Antonio trying to prove? Why bother? He chose to cut himself out of her life after high school. Torri wrote him off after he went AWOL. It was as if he was a ghost -- a figment of her imagination. He never shared his address. He disconnected his cell phone. No goodbye, see ya or hasta la vista, baby — just gone. And, just like that — he was back.
Torri realized she was doing a lousy job not thinking about Antonio. She needed to keep busy and free her mind of Antonio and all the “why’s”. Torri refused to allow the encounter to distract her. Her big opening was 24 hours away. Besides, in the wake of the recent blowup, she didn’t expect to or plan to see him again.
She brushed off her pants and meandered up the steps into the gallery. Torri breathed easy when her eyes rested on a photograph of her grandparents, Claretta and Harold. Torri never met her grandfather; he passed on before she was born. She loved him through her grandmother’s eyes. One of her favorite stories was how they met.
Claretta saw Harold for first time at the “Tree of Hope”. A few of her girlfriends met her there to rub the tree for good luck so their dreams of becoming famous would come true. Harold had dreams, too. Claretta marveled at him hopping around the elm like a tap-dancing fool. His feet moved faster than any she had ever seen. She could have watched him for hours but she couldn’t risk being late for work.
It was Claretta’s first night at the Cotton Club. She glanced at the entertainment between orders. On her first break, she peeked from the shadows near the kitchen at the Cotton Club dancers shaking their feathers. She sang in a whisper with the Duke Ellington Orchestra and wished she could sing beside him. When her break was over, she rushed back still singing the last song she heard. That’s when she came face to face with Harold. He asked her not to stop because she sounded as sweet as an angel. According to Harold, Claretta wasted her talent waiting on tables. At that moment, they fell in love and it wasn’t long before they married.
After that, fairytale love ended for her family. Torri’s father left when she was three and her mother never remarried. Lynette didn’t share much about the marriage, so Torri gathered it was a painful memory. She expected her mother would share when the time was right.
Torri inspected the room. Satisfaction spread across her face. “Well, Grandma, I did it. I wish you were still here to witness it yourself.” A stray tear slid along her cheek.
She left the gallery and continued up to her apartment. She remembered there was a package at Jasmine’s. Torri let herself in and turned on the hall light. It rested near the doorway. Curiosity led her into Jasmine’s living room where she could open it without delay. She removed a poster-size framed photograph. Astounded, she stared into the eyes of her late grandmother. Her chest tightened. The photo captured Claretta’s spirit just as Torri remembered. She read the attached note.
Congratulations. I know your opening will be a huge success. - VJ
The mysterious VJ didn’t leave a full name or a return address. However, she was grateful. It made the perfect centerpiece for the opening. She made a quick decision to unveil it during the dedication. She also had a funny feeling VJ would show up; she’d thank him then.
When Torri stepped into her apartment, the doorbell rang. Torri huffed. Whoever it was, kept their finger on the bell. She assumed Jasmine locked herself out again. Torri had no choice but to respond. She swung the door open. Marcus. Torri swore under her breath.
“I tried to reach you for a while. When you didn’t answer, I came to check on you. I rang Jasmine’s bell, too. I hope I didn’t disturb her.”
“It’s okay. Jasmine isn’t home.”
“So, you’re alone.” He smiled. Her lukewarm response did little to deter him. “Perfect timing. I figured you may be a bit nervous about tomorrow night, so I bought you these.”
Marcus handed over a light purple, heart-shaped box. Torri accepted the gift-wrapped box of her favorite exotic truffles. She inhaled the rich aroma. Gosh, that man knew her so well, and his timing was, in fact, perfect. Once he left, she planned to scarf down the entire box with a delicate bottle of wine while relaxing in her Jacuzzi.
A few hours earlier, she was ready to work on building a relationship with Marcus, but Antonio’s sudden appearance threw a monkey wrench into that plan. While she held the exotic chocolates in her hands, Antonio invaded her thoughts. She grimaced. Her emotions were unse
ttled. How dare he monopolize her thoughts and actions after a brief confrontation?
Marcus frowned. “I thought they were your favorites?”
Torri realized Marcus assumed her scowl was directed at him. “I love them. Thank you. I just remembered I forgot to call the caterers.”
“Odetta covered everything. No worries.”
“She’s an excellent assistant.”
Marcus cleared his throat. “Torri if I upset you last night…”
She didn’t let him finish — she couldn’t. Torri needed to sort out what Antonio stirred up. “Marcus, you’re right, my nerves are shot. I’m anxious about the opening. It’s nothing personal.”
He took his cue. “Well, I’ll give you space to relax. I’ll see you tomorrow night.”
Torri half expected a kiss, but he just let himself out. It was for the best. Back in her bedroom, she opened the box and indulged in her favorite balance of sugar and spice, Indian curry and coconut mingled with sweet milk chocolate. The smooth flavor coated her reservations, soothed them. After a soak in the Jacuzzi and a bottle of Chianti, she settled in for the evening and put thoughts of Marcus and Antonio to rest.
Chapter Five
“Spider, are you still sleeping?”
He always hated that nickname. It wasn’t even a term of endearment. Throughout his childhood she teased Antonio about his wiry arms and legs. She’d never admit that his rugged frame was now light years from his as a boy. He squinted at the clock on his nightstand. He huffed.
“I’m up, Grandma. Is everything okay?”
“I can’t find my hat. What time will you be here?”
“Can’t Faith help you? I’ve had a long night.” He rolled over with the phone tucked under his ear. “I’m sorry, did your mother’s birthday ruin your plans to sleep the day away?” She snapped back.
Antonio shifted and slouched against the headboard. Distracted by Torri he’d lost track of the days. He winced at his oversight.
“No ma’am.”
“Pick up some flowers for me. Make sure you get her favorites.”
“Buttercups, I remember. I’ll shower and be right over.”
As always, anguish and trepidation brimmed as he drove closer. He eased his foot off the gas pedal. The house evoked delicate memories. Flashes of finding his mother cold, haunted him. His regular visits dwindled close to none. Thankfully, his grandmother spared him from entering the house. He inspected the porch where she typically waited dressed in her Sunday best with a fly hat to match. He punched the brake and threw the truck into park. The porch was empty.
He stepped out of his truck and rested against the passenger door. As luck would have it Antonio parked inches away the tree he wrapped his car around on his twenty-first birthday. He stiffened at the harrowing memory and glared at the house where he once lived with his mother, grandmother and cousins. The house he came home to the night he found his mother. Without her, living there was difficult for him. He left when he turned nineteen. He hadn’t been back inside the house since. Antonio pressed on the horn.
The front door swung open and his cousin, Faith, trotted toward him. She was the baby sister he never had. Yet, after losing his mother, Antonio found it difficult to be in Faith’s presence. He ran his hand through his thick mane. It wasn’t Faith’s fault she matured into the spitting image of her aunt. The first time he noticed was the night he crashed into the tree.
Faith’s dark, wavy hair bounced with each step. When did it grow so long? Her bronze skin glimmered under the morning sun. Faith was eighteen and all grown-up. She’d be graduating and heading off to college soon. The first in the family. It had been months since he’d seen her. They were still close, but he kept their visits to a minimum and was grateful for his unlimited texting plan. Antonio missed his ‘little sister’ but he couldn’t handle much more than that.
“Tony,” she squealed.
“How’s my little cousin doing?”
Antonio moved away from the car and pulled Faith into his arms. A light scent of jasmine joggled his memory. He held her a little tighter. She even smelled like his mother.
Faith freed herself and gasped for air. “Sheesh, Antonio. I know it’s been awhile but I couldn’t breathe.”
“Sorry, cuz. I didn’t expect to see you.”
“Nana woke me. She couldn’t find her favorite hat.”
Their grandmother possessed a matching hat for every outfit she owned.
“I was running late.”
“Hot date?”
“What?”
“I know you’re never late. So you must be recovering from a hot date.” She drew invisible quotes in the air.
Faith knew Antonio better than anyone. Her assumption was close, he spent the night with Torri in his dreams. He smirked.
She put her hand up. “Please, spare me the details.”
“You couldn’t handle the details, little cousin.”
“Funny. You should come inside. Grandma cooked her famous buttermilk biscuits and honey. I made some coffee, too.”
Antonio was well aware. The freshness journeyed across the front lawn into his truck. His mouth watered the moment his keen nose detected the familiar scent. They were his mother’s favorite. No one made biscuits like his grandmother. A friend three houses away harvested the sweetest honey. Antonio had to admit he’d love a few biscuits.
“Isn’t grandma ready?”
Faith rubbed Antonio’s shoulders. “When was the last time you were inside?”
He hopped back into the truck. “I’ll wait here.”
“Faith! Did you find my hat yet?”
“I better go, Tony. Nana will go ballistic if I don’t find that hat in the next five minutes.” Faith darted toward the house. “Coming!”
His stomach grumbled. It had been quite some time since he savored the heavenly biscuits he grew up on. How bad could it be to venture back into the house? It was a new day. The love of his life dropped back into his life, pummeled him with her wrath, and instead of a sense of defeat Torri’s scolding confrontation resuscitated Antonio. Her painful yet honest words prompted him that it may be time to stop hiding from his pain.
Antonio exited his safe haven and shut the door. He trekked up the lawn and paused by the oak tree. Although, the scar on the tree healed better than his own, his life was different now. He continued walking. His mouth watered for the sweetness behind the door. As he drew closer to the house, he licked his lips but, his stomach churned with each step. Antonio paused at the bottom of the porch. He thought back to the last time he stood on his grandmother’s porch.
The zipper tugged at the stitching on an overstuffed suitcase near the front door. Grandma swayed in the rocking chair carved by Antonio’s grandfather just before his mother was born. Faith and Ben plopped down on the porch steps. Tears streamed along Faith’s cheeks. Their cousin, James Junior, up in his white Ford Mustang with his stereo blasting. He lowered the radio out of respect when he saw his grandmother. Junior, as they called him, was twenty-three. He played the trumpet with a jazz group called Concrete Soul. Junior always on the road rarely visited the family, so he looked forward to having Antonio with him for the summer. He went over to Faith and Ben to give Antonio more time.
Antonio knelt in front of the rocking chair. “Grandma, I love you. I appreciate you taking care of me but I need to make my own way now. I’m going to work with Junie and earn some money to get a place. I promise to come home twice a week to help you out.”
Gail did not look at her grandson when she spoke. “Does your father know about this?”
“Why should I waste my time talking to him? All he cares about is where his next drink is coming from.”
“Twice a week? I expect you to keep your word.”
He accepted her lack of a rebuttal regarding his father as confirmation. He kissed her on the cheek. �
��See you in two weeks.”
Junior eased beside Antonio. “Hey, Grammy.”
She crossed her arms and continued to rock. “How is your father?”
He bent over to greet her with a kiss. “He’s fine. He’s been busy at the office. We barely see him.”
“Tell that man, he better give me a call before he gets one to come to my funeral.” She huffed and walked into the house.
Antonio kissed Faith and rubbed Ben’s head. “Everything will be okay.”
Faith wiped away her tears. “Will you come and take us to the movies or the park?”
“Yes, Faith. I’m not leaving you guys. I’ll be back. Trust me.” He grabbed his suitcase and headed to the car. “Let’s go, Junie.”
Antonio waved to his cousins as Junior drove away. He gazed at his grandmother’s silhouette through the sheer curtains that hung in the living room window. His heart sank. Not long after that, he learned he failed at keeping many of his promises.
Antonio squinted at the empty rocking chair and wiped his moist palms against his pants. The door opened before he even placed his unsteady hand on the doorknob. Faith stood there with a plate piled with biscuits dripping with sweet honey.
“OMG. I haven’t seen you this close to the house in years. I was on my way to bring you some biscuits. You looked a little hungry.”
“Thanks, Faith. You’re the best little cousin in the world.” His laugh surprised him.
“I miss you, Antonio.”
He kissed her forehead, grabbed a biscuit and shoved it in his mouth. Faith escorted Antonio into the house. She placed the biscuits on the table and lifted the coffee pot. Antonio shuddered at the kitchen’s threshold. Faith poured the coffee much like his mother did every morning. He held onto the coffee she passed him like a security blanket. He inhaled its deep robust aroma. Transported, he grabbed another biscuit and dunked it in his cup. He breathed easier.
“Sugar, I’m ready.” She paused mid-stride, squinted at the cup and peered into his eyes. “Spider?”
November Rain Page 3