November Rain

by Maureen Anderson

  “In love?” She huffed. “You haven’t seen her in years. How can you be in love?”

  “Because, I never stopped loving her.”

  “Stop grinning like a fool. You’re not thinking straight. Did you forget? When we lost your mother, we almost lost you, too. You spiraled down into a crazy life until you crashed. Crashed right into the tree outside this house.” Gail stood and pointed to the front door.

  Antonio remembered that night very well. It was November and he was twenty-one. He planned to celebrate with his girlfriend, Rita, but she had other plans. A sex-filled afternoon with his so-called friend. The sight of them naked on his sofa sickened him. Rita wore a gold G-string she teased Antonio with earlier that week. She kept her promise that she’d wear it on his birthday. They laughed as he stood frozen in the doorway. He snatched his mother’s photo from the desk and vacated the apartment they shared.

  He “partied” alone that night and got behind the wheel before he should have. Antonio didn’t recall how he made it home, but he distinctly remembered what happened when he got there. He saw the tree but kept his foot on the pedal. His head hit the steering wheel upon impact. He tasted the metallic tang of blood on his lip; his head pounded. Antonio shoved his door open and fell on the grass beside the car. Antonio had no idea how long he was unconscious. Faith stood over him screaming his name. He thought his mother’s ghost summoned him, but the onslaught of cold raindrops against his face let him know he was still alive.

  “Spider, are you listening to me? You’re always daydreaming.”

  “Grandma, it’s not Torri’s fault mama died.”

  “I forbid you to see her!”

  Antonio stood. He towered over his grandmother. “I’m a grown man. I can spend time with anyone I chose.”

  “You spend more time with your friends than your family. What do you really know about her? Does she know about you? The drugs. The alcohol.” She sighed. “Your mother’s illness and her ultimate self-destruction?”

  Antonio dropped back onto the sofa. He’d never heard his grandmother acknowledge the reality of his mother’s death. Gail was a hard woman but her eyes watered. She turned her back toward Antonio.

  “Once she learns the truth, she’ll leave you. Just like your father left your mother.” She exited before Antonio could say anything.

  Antonio stormed between the living room and the front door for about fifteen minutes. They both needed to cool off. But, he had one thing to do before he left the house. He inched toward the steps. The color drained from Antonio’s knuckles as he clung to the banister until his legs steadied. Antonio hadn’t ventured up those steps for many years. Each step felt like fighting through quicksand. He used the banister to haul himself to the top. The beat of his heart spiraled as he grew closer to the last step.

  Antonio opened the bedroom door to the right. He paused for a moment before he continued into the room. He clicked on the light and exhaled in disbelief. His grandmother hadn’t changed anything. His throat burned. Antonio sank to the floor near his mother’s bed, much like he did the night he found her. The room still carried her delicate scent.

  After her death, Antonio lived his life without regard for the future. He partied every night until he blacked out. He depended on drugs to fill the void. Antonio traced the scar on his forehead. He’d become a danger to himself and those closest to him were swept into his whirlwind of chaos.

  “Mama, I’m sorry. I never meant to hurt you or grandma.” He rested against the bed. “I don’t know what to do for her. She’s holding on to so much anger and pain. It’s not healthy. What should I do?”

  The door flew open. His grandmother exploded into the room.

  “What are you doing in here? Don’t touch anything. Get out!” She shoved him.

  “Grandma, I’m just talking to Mom.” He sprang to attention.

  “Talking to your mother? She’s not here, anymore.” Her head whipped around. “Did you touch anything?”

  “Why are you acting like this?” Antonio guarded his tone.

  Ben ran into the room with Faith close behind him.

  “Yo, Tony, what’s going on?”

  “I have no idea.”

  Their grandmother collapsed onto the bed in tears and screamed for Antonio to leave the house. Ben wrapped his arms around his grandmother and rocked her. Antonio opened his mouth to apologize but no words formed. In that moment he no longer saw Ben with his grandmother but himself holding his mother the night she died. A tightness burned in his throat.

  “You better take off, cuz.” Ben added bass to his tone. “I’ll call you later.”

  Faith walked Antonio to the front door.

  “I thought you knew about the room. None of us go in there, except Nana when she cleans. Why were you in there?”

  Antonio’s head dropped. He shuffled out the house without a response. Inside his truck, he switched on his mental autopilot and drove to Torri’s. He’d prove to his grandmother that he was nothing like his father and that Torri would stand by his side no matter what.

  Chapter Twenty

  The limousine pulled up in front of the brownstone. Torri congratulated herself for keeping her promise to Marcus. She also gave a toast, made a sizable donation to her friend’s charity, met at least fifty new people, learned how to salsa, and all before dessert. Torri never felt happier to be home. She looked forward to slipping out of her dress and shoes before the clock struck twelve.

  “Give us a moment.” Marcus instructed when the door opened.

  The chauffeur nodded and stepped away.

  “Jordan knows how to throw a party. I’m sure he exceeded his fundraising target. We have to hire him for our next event.”

  “Next event? I think I’ll pass on that for now. The last one had a few surprises I’m still working through. Anyway, I’m glad the weather held up. I almost cancelled.”

  “I’m glad you didn’t.” He leaned in for a kiss.

  “Marcus, please stop trying make this into something it can’t be.”

  “Why not?” He shifted back. “Is this about your high school fling or your surprise as you described him a moment ago?”

  “This is not up for discussion.”

  “I think it is. I know I had a solid chance at developing something meaningful with you before he showed up.”

  “No, Marcus. You know I never thought it was good idea for us to mix business with pleasure.”

  The conversation verged on uncomfortable; exactly what she’d hoped to avoid. Torri slid closer to the door.

  “That could have changed over time, if you just gave us a chance.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “Let me ask you this. What would’ve happened if I never took you to November Rain that night?”

  She broke eye contact.

  “I’ll tell you, Torri. We’d be in this limo heading to my home. And, you’d be in my arms being loved the way you deserve.” He rushed his words.

  His jealous rant spurred Torri’s mounting headache. She didn’t doubt Marcus would love her and she may have been happy for a while. But, she was in love with Antonio. Going to November Rain was far from an accident. “Marcus…”

  “There’s no need to say anything else. I’ll go home, lick my wounds and maintain my status in the friend zone. But, if he messes up…” He signaled for the driver to let them out.

  Marcus helped Torri out of a black limousine. Her elegance left Antonio breathless as malcontent burned in his chest. She tried countless times to assure him that things between her and Marcus were platonic. Strictly business. Yet, seeing them together resurrected his doubts. Antonio lumbered back to his car. He needed time to process all he’d witnessed. Antonio flipped up his collar to disguise his identity. He was sure Marcus would have a good laugh if he spotted him schlepping away from Torri’s brownstone.

  The night’s events left him tired
and wired. First the squabble with his grandmother and then Torri. While he worked on expanding his enterprise, she spent the evening in the arms of another man. The easy thing would be to drive off. But, he promised he wouldn’t run away again. He’d done that too many times in his life. Antonio slammed his car door and made his presence known.

  “Now, that’s a fancy limousine.” Antonio whistled. He stepped over to Marcus. “I’m glad to see my woman has someone to take care of her when I’m away.”

  Torri stood at the top of her steps.

  “That’s what happens when you leave a woman like Torri behind.”

  “Touché.” Antonio remained calm at the moment, although he wanted to introduce Marcus to his fist. “Well, I’m here now. Have a good night.”

  “Torri, I can stay if you like.” Marcus ignored Antonio.

  “I’ll call you tomorrow, Marcus.”

  Antonio didn’t waste any more time with Marcus, he followed Torri up to her apartment. He didn’t care if Jasmine was home. With her back to the door, Torri yanked off her earrings and tossed them on the glass-top dining table. Shaking her head, Torri kicked off her shoes and stood at least four inches shorter. She was the perfect height and size to fit in his arms. Her soft pink evening gown wrapped around her like cotton candy and Antonio possessed a weakness for sweets.“This isn’t an old western with a standoff at noon to win the only girl in town, Tony.”

  Torri wasn’t the only girl in town, but, she was his and he wasn’t sharing. Antonio didn’t mind that Torri was annoyed. He found her displeasure amusing. He admired the view. Her breathing was ragged and anger flickered in her eyes. He eased toward Torri eager to hold her and earn her forgiveness after the rooster-like stance he thrust on Marcus.

  “Don’t come any closer. Did you honestly think I was on a date? Did you even think to ask me about the evening? What is it with men?” She muttered at the end.

  He heard her and his grandmother’s words, too. He didn’t know much about Torri’s relationship with Marcus. He merely judged what he saw and the smile on Marcus was too bright for Antonio’s comfort. It was hard to forget that he helped Marcus impress Torri in his restaurant. Marcus expressed wanting to win her over. Antonio shook his head. Marcus doesn’t win. He finally had Torri in his life and refused to let anything or anyone stand in his way.

  “Aren’t you going to say anything?”

  Antonio eased his arms around her tense frame. He kissed her forehead, then held her face in his hands and smiled.

  “I’m sorry, Ree. Next time I go away, you’re coming with me.”

  “Antonio, I’m being serious.”

  “So am I. It’s not every day that a man gets a second chance with the love of his life.”

  The genuineness of his words colored her cheeks.

  “We were just teenagers.”

  “I was a fool. I waited too long to make a move.”

  “So you wanted to put the moves on me, huh?” She teased.

  “Torri, my point is I have too much time to make up for and I can’t let anything wreck this.”

  She motioned for him to help her out of her gown. He unzipped it ever so slowly, tempted to place kisses along every inch of the exposed path. She looked over her bare shoulder into his eyes. “Then trust me, baby.”

  His grandmother was wrong about Torri. He didn’t trust Marcus but he trusted her and he hoped she had faith in him. The zipper ended at the curve of her full bottom. He fought his overwhelming desire to make love to her at that very moment. Torri held her dress up against her body and sashayed toward her bedroom. Her mock modesty teased his rising anticipation. Her playful actions signaled she forgave him. He followed her like Mary’s little lost lamb. She dropped her dress once she reached the threshold. Antonio snapped mental images of her body and loosened his tie. Her shoulders dropped when his cell phone rang.

  “Are you going to answer that?”

  “Only if you promise not to move.”

  Antonio didn’t recognize the number, but after the incident with his grandmother he had to answer. He listened to the caller intently. Antonio hung up in disgust. He shoved his tie in his pocket.

  “Is everything all right?” Torri slipped into her kimono.

  “It’s my father. I have to go.”

  “Is he alright? Give me five minutes, I’ll go with you.”

  “I think I better do this on my own.”

  He snatched his car keys and rushed out.

  Antonio propelled through the emergency room doors and marched to the main desk.

  “Excuse me, nurse.”

  “Sign in and take a seat.” She shoved the clipboard toward him and returned her attention to the male X-ray technician hovered over her desk.

  “I’m here to pick up my father.” Antonio didn’t have time for her games.

  She rolled her eyes at him, then smiled at her admirer. “I go on break in fifteen.” The technician nodded and pranced away.

  “Miss?” Antonio lost his patience.

  “What’s his name?”

  He swore he heard her suck her teeth. He didn’t want to be there either. At least she was getting paid.

  “Pop...I mean Joseph Martins.”

  She tapped away on her keyboard for what seemed like ten minutes.

  “Room 3.” The door buzzed open.

  He didn’t bother with a thank you.

  Antonio found his way to the room. He kept his distance. His dad sat hunched on a gurney. His left eye was an angry purple and nearly swollen shut. A few stitches zipped a nasty gash on his forehead. Antonio’s nostrils flared.

  “Hello. I’m Doctor Lan.”

  Antonio cleared his throat. “What happened?”

  “Your father had a bad fall.”

  “I see. Can I take him home?” Antonio was eager to collect his father and get home.

  “His x-rays didn’t reveal any fractures. We’d prefer to keep him overnight for observation, but your father is stubborn and insisted we call you.”

  Unimpressed by his father’s latest manipulation tactic, Antonio continued toward the room. Dr. Lan touched his arm. “You should know your father was inebriated when he was brought in.”

  Antonio didn’t need the doctor to tell him that. Pop was always drunk. As a rule, he wouldn’t have cared one bit. However, Torri made it clear that she wasn’t pleased with the way he treated his father. Antonio entered the area. Whatever his father drowned himself in seeped from his pores. Pop opened his mouth to speak. Antonio’s gag reflex kicked in.

  “Lucky me. You actually took time off from your fancy restaurant.” He snorted. “You could have saved yourself a trip and called Faith.”

  That option crossed Antonio’s mind, but Pop was not his cousin’s problem.

  “Let’s not talk about this and get you home.”

  “They tried to keep me here. There’s nothing wrong with me. I just need a drink.” He leaned on Antonio with all his weight.

  “Pops, no more drinking. I’m dropping you home.”

  “He suffered a concussion. He should be monitored for the next 24 - 48 hours.” Dr. Lan handed him the discharge papers. “If he has any symptoms listed here bring him back.”

  “I know the drill.” Antonio grabbed the papers and marched his father from the emergency room. He helped him into the passenger seat and struggled to click on the seat belt.

  “I got it.” His father wrestled with him. “I got it. You don’t have to treat me like a child.”

  “Then stop acting like one.” Antonio slammed the car door.

  Congestion on the Verrazano Bridge tortured Antonio. He pounded on the steering wheel. Leaving Torri to sit in traffic with his boozed up father was not the reception he anticipated. Pop fidgeted in the seat for roughly fifteen minutes before he fell asleep. He raised the music to tune out his father. Sa
dly, the roar of the music failed to drown out the bear-like snore. Antonio’s patience was beyond thin.

  He lowered the volume and used his Bluetooth to call Faith. He sighed when he reached her voicemail. He left a brief message. He was on his own. Antonio turned to his father. He knew sleep didn’t come easy for him. He wondered if his father ever slept. Antonio kept the volume low and continued home.

  When they reached the house Antonio shoved his father toward the bathroom.

  “Pop, you stink. Get in the shower. I’ll bring you some shorts.”

  “Son, I can take care of myself.” He stopped and sat on the arm of the sofa.

  “You heard what the doctor said about the risk of concussion. There’s no way I was sending you home alone.”

  His father grumbled. “What do you have to drink around here?”

  “Are you trying to kill yourself?” Antonio shuddered at his own words.

  His father stumbled when he attempted to get up. Antonio caught him.

  “You’ll feel better after a shower.” He escorted him into the bathroom and turned on the water.

  Antonio glanced at his mother’s photo on the way to get his father a towel and shorts. Even though his father didn’t deserve it, she’d want Antonio to be civil. He took a deep pained breath and closed his eyes. His phone rang; it was Faith.

  Her voice was frantic. “Cuz, I got your message about Pop. Is he okay?”

  “Yes. I brought him to my place.”

  “What?” Her pitch rose. “Do you need me to come over?”

  He gazed at his mother’s photo, and remembered his promise to her. “No, I’ll handle it.”

  “If you say so. I’m here if you need me, cuz.”

  “I know.”

  When Antonio got to the bathroom his father sat slumped under the spray of the shower crying and mumbling, ‘I’m so sorry,’ over and over again. Antonio shut off the water and covered his father with a towel.

  “Come on, Pops. You’ve been in here long enough.”

  Antonio dried him off and helped him into a pair of baggy basketball shorts. He sat his father on the couch. He dumped the tattered clothes in the trash and poured a glass of water.