Over the shots Denzel left them, Lynette filled in Sabine on the details of her affair and Torri’s reaction.
“What? Why didn’t you tell me this years ago?” Sabine grabbed Lynette’s arm. “Girl, you need to give your daughter some time. Your heavy confession changed the entire dynamics of her life, her childhood, even her trust in you.”
“She should know she can trust me.”
“Lynn, you are the principal of one of the finest magnet schools in the city and you have no clue. You betrayed her trust when you kept her real father a secret.”
“I did it to protect her feelings. He wasn’t there for her.”
“Well, he’s here now and she’s old enough to protect herself now. Let your feelings go. You cheated and you feel bad about it. Whatever decision she makes you have to be okay with it.”
Lynette swallowed the last shot. “I know.”
“Okay, now that we’re past that, tell me how you felt seeing him again? Did he make your knees weak?”
“Sabine, you have a one track mind.” Lynette was grateful for some laughter.
“Well.”
“Let’s just say I haven’t stop thinking about him since that night.”
“I knew it. Sounds like we need Denzel again.”
“No, I’ve had too much already.”
“Okay. Let’s just watch the show.” Sabine reached out and rubbed Lynette’s arm. “Don’t worry. Torri will be just fine.”
Lynette nodded in agreement despite the worry clenched in her stomach.
Chapter Fifteen
Torri savored the last bite of her fudge brownie while she prepared for her final class. Her days at NYU used to fly by so much faster when she didn’t have thoughts of a sexy man racing through her head or her mother’s sordid affair. Torri didn’t like complications She wasn’t sure when Antonio would be back and she missed him more than she anticipated. He promised to call when he returned; she had to believe him. Until then, she planned to stay occupied.
The door to her classroom was ajar. While it wasn’t unusual for students to arrive early, Torri approached with caution. However, the room was empty. Torri shrugged her shoulders and pulled out her desk chair. A bright red motorcycle helmet rested there. An attached note read, “Meet me in the park after class, Tony.” She lifted the helmet. A slow smile rose. Antonio proved to be full of surprises and she enjoyed them.
“Hey, Prof. I didn’t know you were a biker babe.”
“Your only concern should be about passing this class, Marco.”
“It’s cool. My mom used to be one. Have fun.”
He took his seat and joined his snickering friends. Torri placed the helmet on her desk and prepared to make it through the next fifty-five minutes.
“If you’re all done laughing, let’s get started.”
Torri dimmed the lights and projected the first photo on the screen.
A black and white image of a man emerging from a hole in the ground dominated the screen.
“Who can tell me about this photo?”
A sea of hands shot up.
Marco stood when Torri pointed toward him. “It’s Gordon Parks, Emerging Man. Inspired by Ralph Ellison’s book, Invisible Man. Parks took the photo in 1952.”
“Correct. I’m glad to see you’ve been paying attention to more than motorcycles.”
“My mom loves Gordon Parks, too.” He smiled and sat down.
“Your mother has good taste. Let’s continue.”
Torri paced and glanced at the clock across the room. The pulse of her heart raced against its second hand. Ten minutes. She rested her hand on the helmet. Her fingers tingled. Nine minutes. A student explained the lighting he chose to set the mood in his photo. Seven minutes.
“Great job, Kyle. Well, we’re done for today. Remember, your final projects are due in two weeks. See you all on Thursday.”
Six minutes. Torri snatched her camera bag and the helmet and flew past some students that lingered near the door. She stopped at the center of the park where the largest crowd gathered. Five teenage boys performed death-defying flips and head spins to Michael Jackson’s “Beat It”. Antonio wasn’t anywhere in the crowd. She stood on a bench to see over the crowd. Her heart did a somersault.
Perched on a shiny red Yamaha, Antonio looked naughty in his biker jeans and boots. A black and red helmet rested on the handlebars. Her legs trembled. Soon thereafter every inch of her body responded to seeing him. Torri pushed through the pack of spectators. Within moments his warm lips lingered on hers.
He pushed back a loose tendril of hair on her cheek. “Hop on. I have a treat for you.”
Torri wrinkled her nose at the red cycle. “You can’t possibly expect me to get on that.”
“Why not?”
“It’s dangerous.”
“Are you telling me you stay away from things that are dangerous?” He teased.
Torri placed her hands on her hips. “Very funny, Antonio. I’m serious.”
“Ree, would I let anything happen to you?” His voice dropped. “Hey, I made sure you have a helmet. Besides, this will free you of what’s been weighing you down lately.”
True, her latest discovery was quite heavy. Her mother controlled her childhood when she kept her father a secret. She was a not a fan of handing over control. That’s exactly what she’d do on the back of Antonio’s motorcycle.
“Are you sure you can handle it with me seated behind you?”
“The question is can you handle it, baby?”
She crossed her arms.
“Come on, Ree. The weather is perfect. Once you climb on and get a taste of the power of it between your heavenly thighs, you’ll want more.”
A tingle charged Torri’s thighs as she recalled how well Antonio knew them.
“You’re shivering, girl. Don’t worry. It’s easy. Just wrap your arms around my waist and rest your head against my back. Enjoy when the gentle breeze caresses your face and rustles though your hair.” He moved in closer to her. “When we stop you’ll beg me for more.”
Torri’s face flushed. “That sounds exhilarating.”
“That’s my girl. Hop on.”
Glad she wore jeans, Torri pulled on her helmet. She followed his instructions, wrapped her arms around his waist and whispered a quick prayer. “Let’s go.”
The ride was electrifying. The power between her thighs was incredible. Antonio’s description was precise. Her head rested against his back. She relaxed to the intense beat of his heart coupled with the throb of the engine. Light and free, they flowed through traffic like the wind. The invigorating adventure consumed her. Torri was lost in his world.
Antonio cruised to a stop at the bottom of a hill. They removed their helmets. Torri gaped at the building that towered at the top. She eased off the bike and clutched Antonio’s hand. He transported her to where it all began. As a teenager, she trekked up the hill for four years. Never once did she complain about the bus and three trains she took or walking up over 100 steps every morning. The school stood like a fortress at the top of the steps leading through St. Nicholas Park. The impressive fortress played peek-a-boo among the trees on the way up.
Antonio recalled their last day at school. Torri and Jasmine stood in their usual spot by the lamppost on the corner across from the castle. Both of his friends tipped the scales past beautiful. At eighteen Torri’s hourglass figure stopped men twice her age in their tracks. Jasmine’s milk chocolate skin was so smooth men melted when they saw her. But, Torri had his heart.
A gentle spring breeze played with Torri’s long, dark curls. He watched her sun-kissed skin glisten in the morning light. Unnoticed, he explored her figure leaning against the lamppost. She threw her head back as she laughed with Jasmine. Antonio watched her from afar just as he had for three years. He knew back then that he wanted to give Torri t
he world. He’d been given a second chance and he wouldn’t miss it again.
Torri leaned against Antonio with her hand pressed to her chest. “I haven’t been here for years. It’s still as beautiful as the day we left.”
“I can’t believe it’s closed now. Just a shell of what it used to be. We brought so much life to that place.”
“It gave many of us life. I learned so much during those four years.”
“Remember how we used to cut class and hang out in the park on the hill?”
“We found that secret path behind the trees. My mother would kill me if she ever found out.”
They continued along the path and stopped under a tree. Antonio kicked aside some loose twigs and smoothed out the dirt with his boot. He tugged a blue plaid blanket out of his backpack.
“Recognize this spot?”
“Senior cut day.” Torri helped spread the blanket in front of the tree. “You claimed that you loved the way the light shimmered in my hair. You wished you had a camera to capture the moment, so you took out your art pad and sketched me.”
“I’m impressed. You know, I still have that sketch.” He removed a bottle of sparkling cider, fresh strawberries and cheese. “That was the moment I fell in love with you. Right here.”
“Why didn’t you say anything?”
“You were seeing that bass player.” He dropped a few pieces of Lindt chocolate near the wine. He remembered she had a thing for them in high school.
She unraveled the blue cellophane wrapper. “Keith Jackson.” She giggled and nibbled on the chocolate. “He created magic with his fingers.”
“Uh, can we skip that memory?”
“Really, Antonio? I meant on the bass. Besides, that lasted less than two months.”
“It felt much longer than that. What about after high school? I’m surprised your not married.” He held back that he was pleased with what she said.
“Not much to share there. I focused on school and did my best to steer clear of relationship drama. It was just me and my camera when I wasn’t out and about with Jazz and X. Besides, Xander did plenty of dating for all of us.”
“Yeah, that sounds like X. So, what about your partner Marcus?” He poured her a glass of the sparkling cider.
“We’ve been partners for three years. He’s helping me restore my grandmother’s photos. The photos displayed in my gallery barely scratch the surface of her collection.”
He cleared his throat. “Were you always just partners?”
“Enough about my old relationships. It’s your turn. Tell me about your relationships since high school.”
Antonio glanced away. Nine years earlier, when Antonio was at his lowest, his ex sucked him into her world and propelled his life into a tailspin. It took Antonio three years to recover emotionally, physically and financially. He’d done his best to forget but Torri’s inquiry reopened the door.
He was eighteen the summer he met Rita. He made himself comfortable on his cousin’s leather sofa. He removed a small plastic bag from his wallet. He rolled the contents as he’d done many time before. Just as he was about to light it up, he spied the smoothest set of legs gliding in his direction. Her movement appeared to be in slow motion. His eyes inched up the length of her body. Her brown locks swept against her shoulders. Her breasts bounced with each step. She smiled and at that moment he wished he was the shiny, red gloss on her lips. He had to be hallucinating.
“I hope you don’t mind if I sit next to you.” Her heat-filled words sparked his appetite.
Antonio couldn’t speak. He checked if he was the alone on the sofa.
“Are you waiting for someone? I saw you here alone for a while and I assumed…”
Antonio interrupted. “I am alone. Please sit down. I’m Tony.”
She sat close enough to feel Antonio’s pulse race. “So, are you going to smoke that?”
He raised it in the air. “Want to join me?”
“I have something better.” She purred and pulled out a small vile that contained a powdery white substance.
Antonio studied her as she placed a tiny amount on her pinky and held it in front of him. Her eyes locked with his and she licked the powder from her finger. She formed two lines of powder on the table. She inhaled one line with ease and smiled at Antonio again. Who was Antonio to say no to such a beautiful woman? He followed her lead and sniffed in the cocaine like a pro. At once, his nose numbed. Cocaine and mucus mixed and dripped down the back of his throat. It dripped into his stomach and the high kicked in like a rocket ship at blast off. He sat back, closed his eyes and enjoyed the sensation pulsating throughout his body.
Her tongue teased and explored his mouth. “My name is Margarita.”
“Like the drink?”
“Yes, but you can call me Rita,” she whispered before she covered his mouth with hers again.
She hooked him from the start. It took him years to break Rita’s spell.
“You look like you’ve seen a ghost. It couldn’t have been that bad.” She leaned back.
“I’d rather not waste our precious time talking about women that could never hold a candle to you.” He picked up a strawberry and teased Torri’s lips with it. “Now let’s enjoy these juicy strawberries.”
She took a bite. He wiped the red liquid from her chin and kissed her.
“What were we talking about?” Torri moaned.
Antonio shrugged his shoulders and fed Torri another strawberry.
Chapter Sixteen
Brooklyn, New York
He memorized every facet of her face from the last photo he received. Her smile bright as a diamond emblazoned on his brain. He’d imagined how she might look a few years older. When he walked into the Harlem Rose Gallery he scanned the room for that face. He searched the room for the daughter he’d only known through pictures and letters from her grandmother. He searched until his eyes were drawn to a face he didn’t need pictures to remember because the memory of it remained ingrained in his heart. Even the gentle grey streaks in her hair unleashed emotions he’d squirreled away. In that moment he’d realized how much he wanted to see her, too. She turned after the conversation she was in ended. She squinted and inched backward. Her arms slumped at her sides. It was evident the feeling was less than mutual the moment Lynette recognized him.
Disappointment weighed on VJ. He sagged against the elevator wall on the way down to the lobby. He waited as long as he could. He didn’t even know if Lynette spoke to Torri. His surprise appearance asked a lot. But, VJ promised his mother he would try. He should have done it a long time ago. He rolled his luggage off the elevator.
“Did you enjoy your stay, sir?”
VJ nodded.
“Would you like me to call you a cab?”
“No, but — ” Victor reached for the hotel’s memo pad on the counter and wrote a quick note. “If anyone asks for me, please give them this.”
“Yes, sir.” The front desk clerk took the note and slipped it into an envelope.
Victor nodded and stepped onto the escalator toward the exit. Afraid to blink, Victor stared at every person on the ascending escalator beside him until his eyes burned. He clenched his suitcase handle and tugged it off the escalator. His daughter wasn’t coming. He hadn’t slept well since he saw Torri at her grand opening and it wore on his energy. Since that night, VJ replayed seeing his daughter coming down the steps nonstop during his short visit in New York. His heart took a long pause. The moment he’d dreamed of for more than thirty years arrived and he didn’t want it to fly by. It was cliché but the photos he’d seen of her paled in comparison. His heart ached when Torri glanced at him as if were a complete stranger. Not one ounce of recognition in her eyes. Lynette didn’t stretch the truth about keeping him a secret from his daughter.
His appetite escaped him, too. VJ knew he should to grab a small bite before his
flight anyway. He crossed Adams Street and strolled into the plaza. A film crew monopolized the steps of the courthouse. VJ paused to take a few photos then maneuvered through the mob of onlookers until he stopped at a hot dog cart.
“One with ketchup and mustard, please.”
Ready to enjoy what may be his last New York hot dog, VJ plopped on a nearby bench. He watched a father play with his little girl across the park. Her face lit up each time she giggled. She perked up even more when the familiar melody from an ice cream truck came around the corner. The little girl grabbed her father’s hand and tugged him toward the ice cream truck. He picked her up and she pointed to a picture on the side of the truck. She hugged his legs before he handed her a vanilla cone with colored sprinkles. Was that Torri’s favorite? The father sat his daughter on a bench. She lifted the cone to his mouth and giggled when he took a small lick.
VJ looked away. He could never recapture those moments. What could he do to earn a bright, loving smile from his daughter? His stomach growled. He bit into his now cold hot dog. It was time to return to Puerto Rico.
Torri showered to remove the gasoline smell that clung to her after her virgin bike ride with Antonio. Even after her shower, parts of her body still hummed. She couldn’t imagine how Antonio would top that date. Wrapped in her towel, Torri blew out the vanilla-scented candles and hummed into her bedroom. She flicked on her lamp and placed a glass of red wine on the nightstand next to Eyes with Winged Thoughts by Gordon Parks. Ready to relax and recover from her day, she shimmied into a lilac sleep tee and pulled back her sheets.
Torri glanced at the hatbox she left on the nightstand. She grabbed it to tuck away in her closet. The box tumbled to the floor when she tried to shove it onto the top shelf. Its contents flew across the floor. Torri plopped on the edge of her bed. Her eyes darted across the contents surrounding her grandmother’s church hat. She leaned forward and then back again.
The distant chime of her cell phone from the bathroom startled Torri. Grateful for a momentary distraction, she jumped up to answer the call.
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