November Rain

by Maureen Anderson

  Torri excused herself after Marcus led her away from Antonio. She regained her focus and connected with a few of her esteemed guests until she noticed her mother again. Lynette stood alone. Torri scanned the guests milling about. The man she’d seen with her mother earlier was nowhere to be found.

  Lynette looked up and expression lifted when she saw Torri. She shimmied past her guest toward her mother. A journalist joined them before Torri had a chance to greet Lynette. The questions Torri had for her mother had to wait a little longer. Torri smiled and prepared herself for the evening’s first interview.

  “Sweetie, I’m so proud of you. That was Essence magazine.”

  “The first of many, partner.” Marcus boasted when he crept up beside them.

  “You’re so right, Marcus. I better freshen up. They may want to interview the superstar’s mother next.”

  Torri giggled as her mother hustled to the restroom. Since her mother seemed much better at the moment, she fought the desire to tag along for details about the man she saw her with.

  “Your mother is definitely a sweetheart. Keep mingling. I’m going to check on the champagne for the toast.”

  Torri surveyed the gallery space. The band continuously played popular tunes by artists such as Billie Holiday, Cab Calloway and Lena Horne - just to name a few. Her guests gathered around the myriad of photos displayed throughout the gallery. Her stylishly dressed catering staff served shrimps wrapped in bacon, mini chicken and waffles, mac and cheese bites, shrimp and okra hush puppies, and endless champagne. The night was perfect. She almost erupted into a praise dance.

  An arresting fusion of sandalwood and orange blossoms captured her attention. She acknowledged Antonio was behind her without having to turn around. The hair on the back of her neck danced in his breath. She moved away and faced him. For the first time that night, she acknowledged how his tuxedo defined his firm silhouette. His shoulders strained against the midnight blue, satin-striped fabric. His dark silken curls fell just above those shoulders. She liked that he grew it out.

  “Torri, before someone steals you again, can we talk? That is, about anything but the past, for now.”

  “Sorry, I’m late, Tony. I’ve searched all over for you.” A woman in a flowing red gown stepped in front of Torri and draped her arms around Antonio.

  “I didn’t know you were coming.” He peeled her arms from their tight grasp around his neck.

  “Well, Miss Taylor was kind enough to leave two tickets. I couldn’t let you come alone.”

  Antonio’s hands clenched. “Torri, you may remember Delilah, the hostess from my restaurant.”

  “Yes. Nice to see you again, Delilah.”

  “Likewise. Is your boyfriend here?” Delilah linked arms with Antonio.

  “If you’re referring to my business partner, Marcus, yes.

  “Partner? Well, I bet there are some great perks to having a partner that handsome.” Delilah stroked Antonio’s arm.

  “Antonio, it appears your hands are full right now. We can talk another time.” Torri glanced away.

  Antonio’s heart sank. He jerked from Delilah’s grasp. “As soon as you’re free.”

  “Miss Taylor, how are you?” A local politician reached for her hand.

  “Mr. West, I’m so glad you made it. Please meet my friend, Antonio Martins and Delilah…”

  “King.”

  “A pleasure, Mr. Martins and Ms. King.” He shook Antonio’s hand then returned his attention to Torri. “Miss Taylor, it is an honor to be here. Your gallery is remarkable. Your grandmother was a phenomenal woman. Opening this in her memory is apropos. She opened her home to everyone in the community.”

  “I agree. Mr. West, Torri, if you’ll excuse me, I see another old friend I need to catch up with.”

  He’d waited long enough to surprise Xander and Jasmine.

  “Of course. Delilah, thank you for coming.”

  “Sure.” She trailed after Antonio.

  It became crystal clear to Antonio that he’d have to wait a little longer for his chat with Torri. Another day or two paled in comparison to fifteen years. He recognized it was wrong to think he’d have an opportunity to clear the air at her opening. The evening hurled a number of distractions their way. At least she didn’t throw him out. Although, he suspected she was close to it.

  Delilah’s sudden appearance didn’t make things any easier for him. He intended to find out what she was up to. Why did she keep the second ticket a secret? If she wanted to attend the opening, all she had to do was ask.

  In the meantime, he’d surprise Xander and Jasmine. If he could survive their surge of questions, he’d master anything Torri fired his way. He picked up his pace and established a safe distance from Delilah. He cleared his throat once he slipped behind his former partner in crime.

  “I’m shocked. The ‘X’ man alone on a night like this?”

  Xander turned around and without delay embraced Antonio in a brotherly hug. “Man, I thought you were dead.”

  Antonio gave his old friend a solid handshake. “I was close to it, bruh. Very close.”

  “Well, you look good for a dead man. Who dug you up?”

  Nothing changed. Xander always had a joke.

  “Torri stumbled upon me a couple of days ago.”

  “Really? She never said a word.” Xander raised his eyebrows. “But, first things first. Who is this sweet lady?”

  Before Delilah snapped at his friend, Antonio answered. “My hostess.”

  “Your hostess? Where?”

  “My name is Delilah and Tony owns a chic restaurant in the Village. Maybe you heard of it — November Rain.” Her hands rested on her hips.

  “Oh, so that’s what you’ve been up to. Opening restaurants?” He nodded his head. “Congrats, bruh.”

  “Thanks, man. You should come through.”

  “Definitely. As long as Delilah is hosting.” Xander leaned over and murmured to Antonio. “She’s spunky. I like her. Is she available?”

  Xander’s attempt to whisper failed. Delilah folded her arms across her chest. “No, I’m not. I’ll let you two catch up. I’m going to the ba…” She paused. “Ooh, is that Terrence Howard?”

  “Wow. She is something. Just your hostess, huh?”

  “Yes, X. I don’t mix business with pleasure. You’re welcome to get to know her better.”

  Xander kept his eye on Delilah while she chatted with the Terrence Howard look-a-like. “Cool.” He faced Antonio and grinned. He called over Antonio’s back. “Jazz, get over here.”

  Antonio remained motionless and braced himself. Jasmine was the mother hen in the group. Her wrath had the potential to be worse than Torri’s.

  “Shut up! Look who showed up after all these years looking like the cover of GQ.”

  Antonio’s eyes met those of his old friend. Jasmine stood before him with her arms crossed.

  “So, you’re still alive and all grown up!”

  The corners of Antonio’s mouth curled into a familiar smile. Now, that he felt safe, he enclosed Jasmine in his arms. He missed their long talks. The unexpected reunion with

  “Does Torri know you’re here? Let me get her. And, where have you been for the past umpteen years?”

  “Slow down, Jazz. I ran into Torri earlier this week. She invited me to the opening.” He withheld the fact that it was a mistake; he’d leave that part of the story for Torri.

  “I’ll have to talk to her about keeping secrets like this away from me. Do you know how worried we were about you?”

  “Yeah, man. What the hell happened? Spill the beans.”

  The moment he dreaded arrived. He swallowed his anxiety and prepared to share with his friends something he hadn’t uttered in years.

  “Shh. Wait. Tell us later. Torri’s about to make a speech.”

  Antonio exhale
d. What luck? He owed Torri for helping him dodge the question.

  A few light taps on the microphone captured everyone’s attention. Mr. West joined Torri at the podium.

  “Miss Taylor, before you begin, I just like to say I knew your grandmother, Miss Claretta, and she would be so proud. You’re doing a wonderful thing opening this gallery in her memory. My wife felt it would be appropriate to bless you with one of your grandmother’s favorite songs.”

  Joyce West sauntered over to the band in a full-length blue sequined gown. The band played the intro. Torri’s eyes connected with her mother’s glossy nut-brown eyes as Mrs. West sang “Stormy Weather”, a favorite her grandmother sang many times when she thought no one was listening.

  Mrs. West bowed to an eruption of applause and relinquished the floor to Torri after they shared an emotional embrace. Torri approached the podium. She took a moment to compose herself and directed her focus to the room full of distinguished guests. The moment was better than she’d ever dreamed. Any nervousness she grappled with earlier, dissipated the instant each of her family and friends sent her cryptic messages for luck; a nod, a kiss, thumbs-up and a smile. Jasmine’s father, who’d been like a father to Torri most of her life, winked and raised his champagne flute.

  Not sure if he’d stuck around, Torri’s final sweep of the room finally settled on Antonio. He touched his heart, placed his fingers on his lips and blew a kiss. She clenched the podium as a slow simmer percolated throughout her body. It seemed impossible to be angry and turned on by someone at the same time. She eased her grip and smoothed her gown before she started her speech. It removed the dampness from her palms and calmed the fluttering she’d felt most of the evening. Marcus stepped beside her and adjusted her microphone.

  “You got this.” His whisper of confidence restored her focus.

  “Good evening, friends and family. I want to thank each of you for your support and making this evening special for me. Mrs. West, thank you for the lovely rendition. My grandmother, Claretta Rose, entertained her friends in this exact room. Friends, like Ella Fitzgerald, Duke Ellington, and Lena Horne. They ate, drank, sang and laughed. Most of these pictures you see before you were part of her personal album. She allowed me to share her special moments with you. My grandmother’s memory will always hold a space in my heart and soul.

  I spent countless hours in this room learning about my family history. My grandmother’s sister was a railroad worker, my great uncle was a member of Congress, my great grandfather fought for this country, my great-great grandfather owned a lumber yard. My grandmother believed we needed to know our history, keep it alive. Photographs tell our story without uttering a word. My grandmother gave me my first camera for my sixteenth birthday. It was a used camera that she said told its story and now it was time to tell mine. I didn’t understand at first.”

  Torri fanned her arm out to showcase the room. “I finally got it. Rose was an essential part of the community. She touched the lives of those who have touched us. I aspire to do the same. I will exhibit work from other community artists. Our history, is our story, it is who we are.”

  Torri raised her hand to draw the attention of her guests to the wall behind her. “Tonight, I dedicate this gallery to the memory of a great woman. I welcome you all to the Harlem Rose Gallery.” Torri pulled a sheet from the wall and revealed the photo from the mysterious VJ along with a golden plaque engraved The Harlem Rose Gallery - Our Story.

  Applause filled the room. Flashes of light dazzled around Torri as she stepped from the podium toward her family. Her brother bowed as she drew closer. He used to tease her about being a such a princess growing up. In jest, she curtsied in response. She glided toward her mother. Tears welled in Lynette’s eyes. Torri wrapped her arms around her before they had matching mascara stained cheeks.

  “Torri, that was beautiful. Mama would be so proud of you. Oh, what a magnificent photo of her. I don’t remember ever seeing it before.”

  “Isn’t it marvelous? I wanted to surprise you.”

  “You did. Where did you find it?”

  Cliff interrupted and pulled Torri into his arms. “Sis, you did a fantastic job. Chasing me around the house with the camera and hogging up the bathroom while you developed your pictures was worth it.” He teased. “I’m extremely proud of you, princess.”

  Torri chuckled. “Thanks for the compliment, bro.”

  Behind Cliff, from the far corner, Antonio raised his glass. He motioned his head for her to join him. Anticipation drummed in her chest.

  “You okay, sis? You’re trembling.”

  Torri wriggled from her brother’s firm embrace. “There’s no need to baby me. I’m fine.”

  “Just checking. I’ve been keeping an eye on you since you mentioned you had a stalker.”

  “Oh right.” Torri forgot she contacted Cliff about the SUV parked outside her house. “I was just being paranoid about tonight. If you and mom will excuse me for a moment, I have some people to thank before they leave. Enjoy some more champagne.”

  Lynette massaged her temple. “Don’t worry about us, love. I’ve had enough excitement for one night. Torri, we’ll talk about the picture another time. Son, would you mind taking me home?”

  “Sure, mom. Have fun, sis; I’ll call you tomorrow.”

  She hugged her family and sashayed through her guests toward Antonio. Marcus cut her off.

  “Wonderful speech, Torri.” He kissed her cheek.

  “Thanks, Marcus. I couldn’t have done it without your help.”

  “I didn’t know your grandmother encouraged you to be a photographer.”

  “Giving me the camera was all the encouragement I needed. The rest came naturally.”

  “Do you still have your first camera? I’d love to see it.”

  “Absolutely. Anytime.”

  She peered over his shoulder to locate Antonio. Antonio lowered his gaze and proceeded for the front door. It was hard for her to ignore the tingling sensation that filled her core and sent her pulse soaring. Her heart sank with every step he took toward to the door. While temptation tugged at her, she didn’t follow him; she sensed she’d see him again.

  Xander caught Antonio by the door and placed a firm grip on his shoulder, only to be shrugged away.

  “Relax. What’s the rush?”

  Antonio stared into the distance where Torri stood. Memories of that night fifteen years ago clear in his mind. He wasn’t sure she wanted to be more than friends — then — or now. He’d have to wait a little longer to find out, especially since Marcus remained glued to her most of the evening.

  “You’re still in love with her after all this time.”

  “I don’t know what you mean.” His pulsed raced after Xander’s remark.

  “It wasn’t a secret. Jasmine and I could tell. Hell, everyone could tell. No junior or senior with any sense would dare talk to Torri when you were around.” Xander laughed briefly. “Listen, Torri never said it, but she was hurting pretty bad after you took off.”

  Antonio didn’t want to discuss Torri’s feelings with Xander before he had a chance to talk to her.

  “X, I really have to get going. Here’s my number. Let’s all meet in a couple days at November Rain for dinner. My treat.” He peeked at Torri and Marcus. “Please extend my congratulations again to our girl.”

  “You got it.”

  He was relieved to spot Delilah still schmoozing with Terrence Howard’s doppelgänger. “Let Delilah know I left, too.”

  “Bruh, I have no problem entertaining her for the rest of the evening. Later.”

  Xander adjusted his dark purple suit jacket, made sure his matching rimmed glasses were straight and sauntered in her direction, Jimmy Walker style. Antonio shook his head and glimpsed at Torri once more before he shut the door.

  Marcus glared at Antonio until he left and scanned Torri’s expression.
He didn’t know her long lost friend, but he recognized the yearning in his eyes. He saw it in Torri’s, too. Whether they wanted to admit it or not, something transpired between them once upon a time and it was far from over.

  Chapter Seven

  “The paper’s here.” Jasmine bounced on the bed.

  “I should’ve locked my door last night.” Torri grumbled and pulled her covers over her head.

  “Oh, stop fussing. Now, let’s read the review.”

  “I’m a little nervous.” Torri peeked from under the turquoise sheets.

  “Well, we don’t have to read it right away. Go freshen up while I make us some coffee?”

  “Okay. I don’t have to tell you make yourself at home.”

  “Just hurry up. I brought up some croissants from the new bakery down the block.”

  “Now, you’re talkin’. Give me five minutes.”

  Torri rushed into the bathroom. She rinsed the sleep from her eyes and ran wet fingers through her tousled hair. She looked into the mirror. The bags beneath her eyes reflected worry and unanswered questions. Torri never found out whom her mother was speaking to. And, Antonio, apparently determined to prove he wasn’t the coward she proclaimed he was, made an appearance. She closed her eyes. Why did her body betray her and respond to him after so many years? Maybe it was just opening-night jitters. Whatever it was, she hoped to find out soon, because she couldn’t afford any more sleepless nights.

  “Girl, what is taking you so long?” Jasmine yelled toward the bathroom.

  Torri brushed her teeth, and pulled her hair up into a ponytail. No more procrastination. The media review held her gallery’s future in their hands. Torri composed herself. It was time to read their exposé.

  “Mmmm. The coffee smells delicious.”

  “Its Blue Hawaiian.”

  “That’s my brother’s favorite.”

  Jasmine left the table to get the warm croissants from the oven. “Yeah, I know. Cliff introduced me to it one night when we went out. I raved about it so he brought me a bag.”