November Rain

by Maureen Anderson

  “Oh. My brother’s always been pretty thoughtful. Its second nature for him. Growing up without our father was tough but Cliff made it easier.”

  “He is pretty incredible. Well, enough about Cliff, let’s talk about you. You were wearin’ that dress last night, girl!”

  “You think so? Did I show too much back?” Torri allowed Jasmine to change the subject. She didn’t want to make a mountain about Jasmine and Cliff hanging out without her. After all, they’ve known each other for a long time, so it wasn’t odd that her best friend would hang out with her brother. Jasmine was family and Cliff’s best friend’s widow.

  “Not at all. Show it off while you still can.” Jasmine laughed. “Marcus couldn’t keep his eyes or hands off you last night. He was all over you.”

  “Jazz, we’re just partners.”

  “If you say so. Last night, he looked like more than that.”

  “You and my mother insist on trying to hook us up. It’s not going to happen.” Only Torri knew how close it truly was.

  “Have you had that conversation with Marcus? Because, judging by the the way that brother fawned over you last night, it’s clear he doesn’t know.”

  “I’m not going to repeat myself.” She bit into her warm croissant.

  Jasmine leaned back in her chair as she blew into her coffee cup. “Okay. So, what did you think about Antonio popping up after all this time?”

  “We didn’t get a chance to talk much.” Goosebumps climbed along Torri’s arms at the mention of his name.

  “Understandable, it was a big night for you and you were busy working the room. But, how was it for you? I mean, he just disappeared on us. He left you pretty upset when he didn’t show up at our graduation, I personally think it’s because you were crushing on him, then out of the blue he shows up at your gallery opening. Do you think it was fate?”

  “Fate is overrated. Besides, I was too distracted to give Antonio any thought. And, I wasn’t crushing on him in high school. We were all just friends.” In any case, she couldn’t be completely open about feelings she was still in the process of figuring out for herself.

  “It was almost like a Casablanca moment.” Jasmine mimicked a dramatic male voice. “Of all the art galleries in New York City, in all the world, he walked into mine.”

  Torri laughed. “Again, we’re just friends, Jasmine. But, that was pretty good.”

  “I think you need to rethink your definition of friend and partner.”

  Torri smiled. If she said anything else, Jasmine would see right through her.

  “Well, I was happy to see he’s all right. He was a sweet surprise. I like the long hair on him. It casts a little “bad boy” on his look.” Jasmine took a quick sip. “But, I have to admit part of me wanted to strangle him for ghosting on us the way he did.”

  Even though it pleased her that Jasmine shared her disappointment with Antonio, Torri shrugged. Her feigned disinterest failed to dull Jasmine’s fascination with his reappearance. Torri began to accept that avoiding Antonio was no longer an option.

  “Did you know he owns November Rain in the Village? I’ve always wanted to check it out.”

  Torri’s nod dripped with distress. The direction of the conversation slipped into uncomfortable territory for her. Mentioning the restaurant reminded Torri of her role in ushering Antonio back into their lives. She wished she was still under her covers dreaming about the future of her gallery and her next big project. She didn’t want to waste the morning deconstructing Antonio. His reappearance was an accident; not his choice. Definitely not hers. She’d spent most of the night trying to forgive her body’s response to Antonio’s touch at the opening. She grabbed for the paper but Jasmine held on while her thoughts lingered on Antonio.

  “He wants us to join him there for dinner soon. It will be great to finally catch up and unlock the mystery.”

  Torri gazed into her coffee cup. “I don’t know, Jazz. I’m not sure how I’ll fit it into my busy schedule.”

  “Give me a break, Tor. You know can make time. No matter what happened, he was one of our best friends. You said it yourself. And, I for one would like to find out what he’s been up to.”

  “I guess.” Her girlfriend leaned across the table. “You think he works out?”

  Torri flashed on Antonio in his tuxedo. She didn’t know if he worked out but, she still felt the strength of his arms around her. Her cheeks burned as she reflected on the intoxicating scent of his cologne. Torri took a deep, calming breath. Jasmine was right, she had a mini crush on Antonio in high school and as annoyed as she felt she’d probably give in and free up the time to see him again.

  Jasmine shoved Torri’s arm. “Girl, are you fantasizing about Antonio?”

  “Oh, please. It’s just Antonio. A tuxedo makes any man look good.” A warm glow remained on Torri’s cheek. “Anyway. Did you come here to talk about Antonio or the review?”

  Jasmine’s gaze fixed on Torri’s face for a silent moment. Torri could only imagine what ran through her girlfriend’s mind. She wanted the conversation to end. Her own thoughts about Antonio were enough, she didn’t need any of Jasmine’s theories about him.

  “You’re right. Let’s get to this review.” She passed Torri the paper.

  A picture of Torri with Marcus at her side accompanied the article. Marcus’ arm rested comfortably on her waist. Torri ignored the implications of the picture for the moment. Jasmine’s ‘I told you so’ expression was not helping much. She went on to read the article.

  Harlem Rose Gallery in Full Bloom

  Award-winning, photographer, Torri Taylor, hosted a star-studded gallery opening in Harlem last night. Ms. Taylor renovated the main floor of her late grandmother’s brownstone in Mount Morris Park. Claretta Rose was a staple in her community during the 1930s and 1940s. It was only fitting to name the cozy gallery in her memory.

  Those in attendance included, Darrell West and his wife, Essence magazine, several local artists, Manhattan Borough President, and photographer Victor James. Her handsome escort and partner, Marcus Samuels, accompanied Ms. Taylor.

  Relish the touching black-and-white moments displayed. Stand in the room where Claretta Rose entertained Duke Ellington and Lena Horne. This gallery is a must-see. Thank you, Ms. Taylor.

  “Girl, you did it! Grandma Rose would have been so proud of you.” She jumped up and grabbed two glasses from the hanging rack. “I know it’s early, but we need to celebrate.”

  “Yeah. Jasmine, I don’t mean to be rude, but can we celebrate later?”

  “This is what you’ve worked for, why wait?”

  “I need to see Marcus. I want to make sure he doesn’t get the wrong idea.”

  “Girl, please.” Jasmine grabbed her cup of coffee, croissant and headed toward the front door. “Luckily, I have things to do anyway. Call me later.”

  Torri showered, threw on a pair of jeans and her “Keep Calm, I’m a Photographer” tee and hurried out. She feared Marcus might use the article as leverage to her heart. She needed to think some more. Antonio’s appearance raised too many unexpected emotions. Things had to slow down before they spun out of control. Being single was so much easier.

  A magnificent arrangement of purple and white orchids stunned Torri when she opened the door. A familiar aroma caught her attention that wasn’t the flowers but a whiff of man’s cologne that sparked a flutter in her belly. She quivered; it reminded her of Antonio’s heady scent from the night before. Memories of Antonio flickered in her thoughts and her nose.

  Equally roused and annoyed, Torri placed the flowers on the table near the entrance, and reached in her bag for change without ever looking up. Torri handed over a five-dollar bill and glanced up finally acknowledging the deliveryman. She hopped back a step. For the third time in the last forty-eight hours she gazed into Antonio’s deep brown eyes. He needed to work on his timing or mayb
e his timing was perfect.

  “Back again? Are you still stalking me?”

  “Not exactly.” He returned her money. “I covered the tip before the florist left.”

  Although his voice sent ripples through her, Torri’s voice remained steady. “They’re not from you?”

  “Unfortunately, not. But, someone has good taste. And, he knows your favorite color.”

  Impressed, she grinned when Antonio recalled her favorite color purple. Torri inhaled the bouquet before she set the arrangement on a small table in the center of the gallery.

  “I can read the card later.”

  Antonio leaned in the doorway. “I hoped we could talk today without interruptions. It looks like I caught you on you’re out, so I’ll make this brief.”

  Like her, his outfit was rugged and relaxed compared to the night before. He wore faded jeans and a Bruce Lee t-shirt. The muscles manhandling his shirt were evidence of hundreds of push-ups, pull-ups, bicep curls, you name it and, she wasn’t looking at Bruce Lee. She glanced away to avoid being caught lusting after Antonio’s hard work.

  “Jasmine just told me we’re all supposed to meet for dinner. We can talk then.”

  “We can. However, we have unfinished business that we should clear up before we meet with our friends.”

  “Do we, Antonio? I’ve waited fifteen years, what’s a few more nights.” She didn’t care for his sudden urgency.

  “Torri —”

  “Look, I was just on my way out to go over some things with my partner.” Torri sighed; she didn’t mean to give him a hard time. She just found it difficult to forget the way her heart shattered when he fell off the grid.

  “I can give you a lift. If that’s all right with you.”

  Torri’s legs weakened and her pulse spiked at the thought of being alone with Antonio. It was time to shed some of the disappointment shrouding her heart and discover what he had to say. Not to mention, his smile was tough to resist. “The studio’s near NYU.”

  “Not far from the restaurant. Perfect.”

  She stalled on her way to the Escalade parked in front of the house. A few days ago, that identical truck haunted her. Once she sat inside there’d be no turning back. They would finally clear the air so they could move on with their lives. Next, she could concentrate on a real relationship and not the ridiculous high school girl emotions that raced through her since their startling reunion.

  “Allow me to get the door for you.” Torri’s hand melted in his when he helped her into the truck.

  “It’s hard to believe you’re still a perfect gentleman.”

  “You deserve nothing less.”

  Antonio hopped into the driver’s seat. He had Torri all to himself. Every inch of her — every soft, voluptuous inch of her — was his for the next thirty minutes. No paparazzi, reporters, politicians, family or annoying business partners. His overwhelming desire to see her again led him to her front door. He took a risk showing up uninvited. She teetered close to tossing him out the night before if she didn’t have her guests to consider. Nothing protected him this time. He was at her mercy and now she sat in his truck.

  Antonio gazed at Torri. He longed to run his fingers through her soft curls and taste her lips to see if they were as sweet as he remembered. The harsh click of her seatbelt curbed his mounting passion. Torri faced him; her doe eyes shifted toward his mouth. Torri searched for answers. She deserved the truth and Antonio’s brain scrambled with which truth he’d tell her. The one he remembered or the one he preferred to remember. He turned on the ignition, threw the truck into drive and they were on their way.

  The ride for Antonio and Torri started as a quiet one. He switched through the radio stations until he found a song that grabbed his attention. He stopped when he heard the mesmerizing tones of Heatwave’s classic, “Always and Forever.” Torri smiled; back in high school, it was her song. Antonio knew that. It seemed, to quote Jasmine, fate stepped in to help him.

  She pushed her hair behind her ears and peered over to Antonio who inspected her in silence as they sat at the red light. Ten minutes passed since they stepped into the car and neither of them said much. Her breath hitched each time she caught him staring. Antonio moved the moment the light changed. Torri seized her opportunity to sneak a peek. Antonio wore his thick coils smoothed back into a ponytail. She noticed the faint hole in his ear where he used to wear a diamond stud in high school. They turned at the next corner and she gaped as his sculpted biceps flexed with the exaggerated movement of the steering wheel. Adult Antonio was pleasant on the eyes but the ogling wouldn’t get them anywhere.

  “Antonio —”

  “Me first. I know your brain is flooded with a million questions. I admit I may not have answers for them all. This is far from easy but, let me start by saying, I’m sorry, Ree.”

  Tempted to spew a response, Torri opted to let him continue.

  “I started something that night before graduation. It would’t be fair to ask you to pick up where we left off back then.” He paused. “But, can we start over?”

  Torri shifted in her seat; she didn’t want to move so fast. She preferred time to let things marinate. While his proposal to start over was charming, his apology seemed hollow without clarifying why he was sorry.

  “I don’t know, Antonio. That night in the train station you opened my heart to something new and exciting with you, but then you disappeared. You have yet to explain what happened.”

  Antonio lowered the radio. “Believe me, I never meant to hurt you. I wanted to see you after that night.”

  “You had a funny way of showing it.” Her softened tone masked her level of dissatisfaction.

  “Ree, I hurt you and I can’t take that back. But, don’t be like this.”

  “Don’t be like what, Antonio? Are you telling me not to sit here and remember how you abandoned me after you looked at me with love-filled eyes that begged me to love you back? That I shouldn’t remember how our first kiss that same night left me aching for more?”

  The dam broke. She couldn’t hold back any longer. Torri turned toward the window. The memory pierced her composure releasing a trickle of anguish. She wiped her eyes. It didn’t matter that she was eighteen at the time; she understood how she felt. She was in love with him then.

  Antonio pulled over near a hydrant. He peeled his palms from steering wheel and rubbed them on his jeans. He deserved her outburst. If nothing else, he had her undivided attention and, she had his. His heart boomed against his chest faster than a new father in a hospital waiting room. Torri stared out the front window and stroked her collarbone. She no longer wore the locket her gave her. That night she walked into November Rain it gave him the glimmer of hope that led him to follow her home. Now that she removed it, was all hope gone? Torri finally faced him — the hopeful glint in her eyes slowed his heart to a normal pace. He opened his mouth to utter the pain-filled words.

  “Ree, after I left you that night, I was floating on air. I didn’t care about the lonely, two-hour trip home. I had your sweet lips on my mind keeping me company. I couldn’t wait to get back to you the next day. When I finally got home, I tiptoed past mama’s bedroom. The television was still on, so I went to shut it off. I was glad she was asleep; she had trouble sleeping for weeks. She hadn’t been well for a long time. I leaned over to kiss her forehead.” Antonio swallowed a sob that threatened to escape. “She was cold.”

  He heard Torri gasp. She reached over and held his hand. Her touch lent him the strength to continue. He appreciated the tenderness of her touch. At that moment, it filled him with the comfort he yearned for.

  “I can’t be sure how long I held my mother in my arms. I didn’t even hear my grandmother step beside me.”

  Torri heard enough. Her disappointment in Antonio waned within moments after he described a moment no child of any age wants to experience. She tapped into her ow
n pain and confusion when her father abandoned her family. After he left, Torri watched the door for months waiting for him to rush back in with open arms. She was lucky to have that to hold on to, but Antonio knew his mother would never hold him again. Her heart ached with him.

  “Antonio, I’m so sorry. Why didn’t you call?”

  “Ree, I didn’t want to talk to anyone. Neither did my grandmother. She changed our home number and I disconnected my cell.”

  Each time he call her Ree...well, he stirred up emotions she’d locked away. They’d danced around the obvious for far too long. Torri wrapped her fingers around Antonio’s warm hand. Her stroke was intended erase the pain at that moment, if possible. Torri still remembered the pain and confusion she felt when her father left. He didn’t die, but he never came back and to a young girl, its the same thing.

  She couldn’t understand why Antonio didn’t reach out to his closest friends. For years he suffered alone. The anger and disappointed she harbored no longer mattered. Their conversation was no longer about them; it was about a friend in need.

  “We would’ve been there for you, Antonio. Didn’t you trust our friendship? Why did everything have to be such a big secret with you?”

  “Let’s just say my family was a bit dysfunctional. Besides, I had my own guilt to deal with.”

  Torri moved closer to Antonio. “What did you have to feel guilty about?”

  Antonio eased away toward the driver’s window, and rubbed his fingers across his chin.

  “I was out having a good time. I ignored my curfew. All I cared about was fun and asking you to be my girlfriend. I asked myself a million times, if I’d been home that night instead of out with you would my mother still be alive today? I couldn’t pursue a relationship with you with that question so heavy on my mind.”

  She leaned closer and she rested her head on his shoulder.

  “Antonio, it’s only natural to blame yourself. But, it wasn’t your fault. How could you know? You didn’t do anything wrong by hanging out with your friends.” Torri hoped her encouraging words embraced him.