November Rain

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November Rain Page 17

by Maureen Anderson


  “I’m sorry, Ree. I never meant for anything like this to happen.”

  Torri stepped in front of him. “I’m sorry, too.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Maybe, we’re not ready to be together.”

  “Because of Delilah?”

  “Antonio, my life has been far from normal the last few months. Delilah was right about the phone call, but it wasn’t about you. I just need some time and I think you do, too.”

  “Ree, you can’t mean that. I don’t need any time. I love you.” Antonio moved closer.

  She pushed her hand against his chest. “I’m going back to the hotel.”

  Antonio stood on the corner of Tremont Street. He never felt so lost. His soul mate walked out of his life and he wasn’t sure if she’d ever come back.

  Whispers of coconut lingered in the air. His heart thudded in his chest. The sheets were still rustled from their love session. He frowned at Torri’s copy of the room key beside the ice bucket. He called her cell phone. Voicemail. She was serious. It was really over unless he made some changes. Antonio slumped on the bed, his head dropped into his shaking hands.

  He remained in the same position for over an hour. It was well after midnight. He tried Torri’s cell again. No answer. He snatched his wallet and room key from the nightstand. The streets weren’t as empty as he expected. A drunken couple bumped into him as they passed. Their jovial laughter clearly represented they were having a good time. At least someone was.

  He stopped in a 7-Eleven about a block away from the hotel. He grabbed some beef jerky, a bag of chips and stared at the beer section of the refrigerator. Antonio hadn’t touched a drink since his twenty-first birthday. His shoulders sank. The mere thought of drinking made him sick to his stomach.

  “Do you need help?” The young man at the counter asked.

  He imagined he looked crazy standing there for what felt like an eternity. Embarrassed, Antonio grabbed a tall can of Guinness. He convinced himself. Just one. He was nothing like his father. He could manage with just one. It would help him sleep.

  Antonio trudged into his room with a six-pack. Before he left the store, he was no longer sure one can was going to help him sleep that night. Within ten minutes, he chugged down three cans. Spread across the bed, he watched the ceiling spin out of control, just like his life.

  The Chandler Inn wasn’t far from Antonio’s hotel. Thankfully, a room was available. The space felt less welcoming. The empty bed uninviting. Not the way she planned to end their romantic evening; their first vacation. Walking away from Antonio was the last thing she wanted to do. It was her only choice to salvage the remnants of their original friendship.

  Torri curled into a fetal position wrapped around a pillow. Tears streamed down her face. She cried a hard, deep cry. Her chest hurt like her heart literally broke. After an hour, Torri crawled under the bed sheets. She needed a plan. The time came for her to take care of what she placed on the back burner for too long. It was time to meet her father.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Apart from the restaurant, nothing held him in Boston. He delayed the restaurant’s opening. Torri was an important part of his life. He spent the duration of the four and a half hour commute trying to reach Torri. She didn’t answer any of his texts or calls. It remained like that for two weeks. He didn’t have time for irrational thinking. If he was going to save his relationship, he needed to tie up all the lose ends from his past and fast. He had a good idea where to start. The light turned green.

  The neighborhood hadn’t changed much in ten years. A wave a heat ran over him. He rolled past a stop sign. Several houses struggled to stand, drained from their poor condition. A few were still boarded up just as he recalled. He wondered if they ever saw better days. He was surprised since most of Brooklyn was revitalized. The block was a dark and gloomy character. It breathed a life he wanted to forget. He pushed his shoulders back and tightened his grip. Thanks to Torri’s unsettling departure, he was compelled to return.

  Antonio made a left. He eased down the block, each house a snapshot of his hard-core past. The possibility existed that Rita no longer spent her darkest hours there. Antonio knew how easy it was to fall under her wicked spell. As he drew closer, nausea crept up on him. His stomach burned and his nostrils flared. The unsavory scent in the air assaulted his memory and nearly sent him reeling. He parked the Yamaha. The only way he was going to find out if Rita was inside was to go — inside. Antonio let out a deep, satisfying sigh releasing the tension in his body. What waited on the other side of the door no longer controlled him.

  Faded blue paint on the door curled and cracked. The building’s brick exterior appeared unstable with missing and shifted blocks. He just needed it to stay erect long enough for him to get in and out. A large man that could be best described as Arnold Schwarzenegger’s long lost twin from the hood stood in front. Antonio didn’t want any trouble, but trouble bulged from every inch of the brother’s crossed biceps. If he flexed any harder his shirt was sure to rip. Antonio advanced and as expected the human brick wall blocked his path.

  Antonio held his hands up in peace. “Brah, I don’t want any trouble. Just tell me if a chick named Rita’s here.”

  A girl that looked to be no older than fifteen-years old emerged from behind the guard and grinned. “If Rita’s not here maybe I can give you what you need.” She slurred in a dreamlike state.

  “Girl, sit back down. He don’t want you.”

  She sucked her teeth and slinked back to her corner. Antonio was officially sick to his stomach. He was wasting his time. He decided it was best to leave. He backed up.

  “Wait.” The hulk-like brother stopped him. “What’s it to you?”

  Antonio appealed to the pride that men possessed when it came to their women. “She’s my girl...or she was. She cheated on me — in my home.” The image of Rita and his friend was seared in his memory. “You need to handle that. She’s in the back. She won’t be here long; she mentioned something about cheesecake.”

  “Cool. Thanks.”

  “She skipped out of here.” The young girl returned.

  “She’s gone?”

  “Yeah, when I told her someone was looking for her she took off.”

  Great.

  “Check Junior’s. Trust me.”

  Antonio breathed out. That confirmed it. Things hadn’t changed. Seeing Rita wasn’t part of his plan when he ventured back to the neighborhood. He didn’t owe her any sympathy, but she deserved a life better than the downward spiral she’d been sucked into. He knew it was a good chance her escape route led her to Juniors. Sugar ranked second on her list of addictions.

  “Thanks.”

  “Good luck, man.”

  They bumped fists.

  Antonio hopped back on his bike and whipped toward Fulton Street. It’d been two weeks since he last saw Torri. His life wasn’t the same without her. He kept himself busy with the restaurants, but it wasn’t enough -- it never was. He had hoped his visit to the hole he emerged from would be the final door to close on his past. Antonio assumed things changed for Rita; that she evolved into a happier, healthier version of her former self. That like him, she found freedom. He never anticipated chasing her around Brooklyn.

  In less than fifteen minutes, Antonio parked near Junior’s. He breathed in the sweet smell of cheesecake. It wasn’t long before his mouth watered. Rita wasn’t the only one that craved cheesecake. The front counter was jammed as always, but Rita wasn’t in the crowd. He walked in further to see if she stayed to enjoy her sugar fix. He spotted someone that looked like her at a table near the rear. She chatted with a man that Antonio couldn’t see well from his vantage point.

  “Good afternoon, sir. How many in your party?”

  “Oh, I’m not staying.” He glimpsed an empty table not far from Rita and a friend. “On second thought, would it be pos
sible to seat me at that table?”

  “Of course, handsome.” Antonio kept his head down to avoid being seen.

  “Enjoy. Your server will be right over.”

  Motionless and barely breathing, he kept his eye on Rita. He studied the frail frame of his ex-girlfriend and it became clear she was that he’d returned to help her. Ten years earlier Rita was a thick, curvy brunette with brown eyes. Today she sat in the restaurant as a blue-eyed, spiked-haired blonde, weighing about ninety-five pounds. One look at her and you could still see the drugs in her veins. The hairs on the back of Antonio’s neck rose. Rita was no longer a vision of beauty but a harsh reality of where he would’ve been if he stayed on her path.

  She glanced in his direction. He couldn’t turn away. Rita smiled, sashayed to his table and wrapped her arms around his neck. Caught off guard, he gave in a little and let her hold him.

  “Antonio Martins? I can’t believe my eyes.” She squeezed him tighter.

  “Neither can I.” He pulled back slow and removed her arms from around his neck. “Can I talk to you alone for a minute?”

  “Wait, are you still angry with me?”

  “Believe it or not, you actually helped me. It’s my turn. Come on, I want to show you something.”

  Rita waved to her male friend headed in their direction and latched onto Antonio’s elbow. The guy didn’t even pause. Antonio clenched his jaw. He wanted to peel hands off his arm, but couldn’t take a chance upsetting her. He led her out of the restaurant toward his motorcycle. She released Antonio and ran her hands along the body of bike. He turned it on and she squealed when she jumped back.

  “Rita, do you think you can handle the back of my bike?”

  “I can handle anything, Pookie.” She strutted closer to the bike. “Where are we going?”

  Antonio handed Rita the extra helmet. She climbed on and wrapped her arms around Antonio’s waist and they left.

  Antonio stopped the bike. Rita removed her helmet and fixed her hair. “Where are we?”

  “Rayz of Hope, my friend’s community center.”

  Her hand went straight to her hip. “You mean your girlfriend?”

  Antonio chuckled at her constant sass. A glimmer of the Rita he knew long ago was still there. “Just follow me.”

  She skipped over to his side and linked her arm with his. Antonio flinched but dealt with it. If his plan worked, he wouldn’t have to worry about ever again. It was after hours, so most of the children went home for the day, except for a few stragglers that helped Jasmine clean.

  Jasmine looked up when Antonio and Rita entered the art room. She waved and wrapped up her call. “Be safe and call me when you get there.”

  “Hey Jazz.”

  “Hey Antonio. What brings you here?” She frowned before he answered. “Who’s your friend?”

  “My friend is the reason I’m here.”

  Rita smiled and rubbed Antonio’s arm.

  Jasmine stood and crossed her arms. “Is that so? I can’t wait to hear the rest.”

  “My name is Margarita.” She still held on to Antonio.

  “I’m Jasmine, a good friend of Antonio’s.”

  Jasmine seemed cordial, although he imagined the slew of questions flooding her imagination. He shivered at the intensity of her scowl.

  Antonio freed himself from Rita. “Let’s have a seat, ladies.”

  “Is this going to take long?” Rita fidgeted in her seat. She wiped away the perspiration on her forehead. “I haven’t seen you for years. We have a lot of catching up to do.”

  Antonio recognized the signs; Rita needed a fix. He held her hand to lend support. She placed her free hand on top of his. Her weak smile pulled at him. Rita needed someone, even if it was him, to show her that her life mattered.

  “Pookie, why are we here?”

  Antonio knew that as a licensed clinical social worker she’d been trained to recognize a person’s needs. He watched Jasmine study the exchange between him and Rita.

  “Rita, I think you’re here because you need my help.”

  “What is she talking about, Antonio? I don’t need any help. This is a waste of time. You said you wanted to talk to me.”

  Antonio faced Rita. He probed the eyes that once trapped him. Eyes once full of life. He no longer saw that. When they were together, he never cared to get to know her. He focused on the pain he tried to kill and had no idea why Rita succumbed to that lifestyle. After so many years on the stuff, its possible she didn’t remember herself. Regardless of the negative memories he held, he couldn’t let her live like that anymore.

  “Rita, you have a serious addiction. Jasmine can get you help. You just have to trust us.”

  She fell into a fit of laughter. “How dare you? You’re not better than me. You happen to see me at Junior’s and take me from my date because you think I’m addict! I knew this was some type of payback.”

  “Rita, I have friends that can help you change your life. I know you’re special or Antonio wouldn’t have introduced us.”

  “You’re wasting your time, Dr. Jasmine. I’m fine. I don’t need or want your help.”

  Jasmine remained silent. Antonio prepared to block any attempt Rita made to retreat. She chewed on her fingernails while her legs bounced at a fierce pace. She stared at Antonio through glossy eyes and back at Jasmine.

  “I can’t do it. I’ve tried before.” Her lips quivered.

  “We’ll help you. You won’t need to do it alone.” Jasmine knew Rita stood a better chance of success with support. Antonio nodded in agreement with Jasmine’s response. He was willing to do whatever it entailed. Rita jumped up and paced back and forth.

  “Why now?”

  Antonio opened his mouth to respond.

  “What if you’re wrong?” A bit calmer, she whined. “What will happen to me?”

  Jasmine moved toward Rita. “One step at a time, Rita. Let’s give my friend a call.”

  She moved away as expected. “I’m not going anywhere without him.”

  He held Rita’s hand. “Make the call, Jasmine.”

  Rita fixed her glossy eyes on Antonio’s face. “Why are you doing this for me? I cheated on you. I ruined your life twice. You haven’t seen me for years until today.”

  Antonio lowered his head before he responded. “I was just like you once. Alone — thinking no one cared about me. Without me asking, someone gave me a second chance.” He looked up. “Everyone deserves a second chance. I forgive you.”

  A peace washed over him as witnessed Rita cry for the first time.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Isla Verde, Puerto Rico

  Victor rolled over and opened his eyes. He never imagined making love like that again. It equaled the excitement and anticipation of an explosive, vibrant display of lights flickering in the night sky like newborn stars. That’s exactly how he felt -- newborn. He admired the beauty across the room that released him from his cocoon. His T-shirt swallowed her foxy frame. Her hair bounced and she looked lovelier than she did the night before. He wanted her back in bed by his side. Victor wanted to enjoy every blessed moment before it ended.

  His skin tingled as he recalled the pounding on his door the night before. Victor swung his door open prepared to scold the unexpected guest for disrupting his rest. Lynette’s voice trembled as she yelled at him and cried for what seemed like an eternity before he could get a word out. Lynette hurled all her years of hurt at him and he deserved every bit of it.

  He prepared her a cup of his favorite coffee, a blend a friend brought him from New Orleans. Her lips lured Victor with each sip. He still loved her. He wanted to wipe away every tear and promise that he’d take care of her and make things right again.

  An affordable room for rent in a Harlem brownstone won over Victor as a young, rising photographer looking for a temporary place to stay. Fall
ing in love with a married woman wasn’t part of his plan. During her visits to her mother, Lynette confided in him about her unhappy marriage. The more time they spent together he watched her solemn spirit brighten. He fell in love. Then he left. When he found out about the baby, he stayed in PR instead of getting his behind back to New York to claim Lynette and his baby. He left her to raise their daughter alone. Her surprise visit opened the door to a second chance.

  Midnight arrived before she finished her coffee. Her sobbing was replaced by small hiccup-like spasms. Victor smoothed his hand along her back until her breathing steadied. It was too late to drive back to her hotel so he suggested she rest on his bed. Surprisingly, Lynette conceded. He gave her his bed and grabbed a pillow and sheets and headed for the sofa. Before he settled in, Victor stood outside his bedroom door. Just like Lynette used to do when she visited him, Victor knocked three times before he peeked into the bedroom to check on Lynette.

  He smiled checked on Lynette in the bedroom.

  “Don’t leave.” Her voice quivered.

  “My sweet, get some rest. We’ll talk more in the morning.”

  “Please stay. There’s plenty of room beside me.”

  Sleeping next to her wasn’t a good idea. He had carnal knowledge of this woman. He remembered every inch of her. Her familiar scent summoned him like an invisible finger. Victor wasn’t sure he could fight the magnetic pull her body fixed on his.

  “Lynnie, trust me, it’ll be best if I sleep on the sofa.” He was careful not to approach the bed.

  Lynette sat up. The silvery moonlight shimmered through his bedroom window accentuating her nude silhouette. Victor gradually gravitated to the king-size bed and its guest. She reached out to him. He stopped in his tracks and lowered himself onto the large chair near the bed. A mere thirty minutes passed since she’d cursed him up and down for ruining her life. Now, she wanted to share a bed with him. Lying beside Lynette in her confused state of mind only meant trouble and he was already in a big enough mess.

 

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