Tired of Dicey’s little insinuations, Karen gave the woman a piercing glare. “Do you think you know something about me?”
“I think I could tell you a whole lot and save you a lot of time and energy if you were brave enough to sit for one reading.” Dicey’s voice held its normal enticing tone, but this time it seemed like it was more powerful.
“Dicey—” Karen started to go with her normal rejection in spite of how much she wanted to go get a reading.
“Divine,” Dicey corrected.
Karen bit back her retort that Divine wasn’t hardly Dicey’s real name. However, she realized that Dicey probably wasn’t her real name either.
What the hell was her real name?
Karen let out an exasperated sigh. “Divine, I already told you I don’t believe in all that woo-woo stuff. Just me, my self-determination, will, drive and a little Je-sus is all I need.”
“Hmm…yes…Jesus… ‘I turned myself into myself and was Jesus. Men intone my loving name.’” Dicey smiled when she saw Karen looking at her strangely. “Just a little of Nikki Giovanni’s ‘Ego Tripping.’ I’ve always loved that poem. It’s such an homage to the divine in all black women, don’t you think?”
“Yes. It’s one of my favorite poems.” Karen paused and then finished the line from the poem that Dicey started. “All praises all praises. I am the one who would save.”
“Yes, dear one. I’ll tell you what, since we both have a fondness for the warrior sister poets of the 1970s, I’ll offer this reading for free. If you feel like leaving a tip after you hear what I have to say, fine.”
Man, she is really making it hard to say no today. Or was it that Karen really wanted to get a better sense of what was going on with Darius?
“I don’t have long. Maybe another—”
“It won’t take long. Come on in.” Dicey held open her door and waved Karen in.
Karen walked into the cozy storefront and was pleasantly surprised. She didn’t know what she had been expecting. Skulls? Bones? Black? Crystal balls? Tarot cards? She certainly wasn’t expecting the warm, earth-toned furnishings accented with splashes of jewel tones. The combination of the rusts, browns, creams and mahogany were nicely highlighted with hints of emerald-green, ruby-red and gold. The chairs were oddly placed, but each one was overstuffed and comfy. The throw rugs were placed haphazardly, but each one was plush and buoyant.
She watched as Dicey lit up various candles about the room.
“Pick a seat wherever you feel the most comfortable, dear one, wherever the energy is the most productive for you.”
Karen sat down in a soft cream chair that felt like a cloud. The extra green and gold throw pillows added to the overly plush feel of the chair.
Dicey finished lighting the candles, and then she sat down in the brown-and-mahogany chair across from Karen. She placed the ruby-red chenille throw across her lap and reached for Karen’s hand.
Karen held her hand out and gave a nervous chuckle. “What, no crystal ball?”
“If you’re not going to take this seriously, Karen—”
“Okay. Okay. I’m just joking.” She opened her hands palm side up and took a deep breath.
The truth was Dicey had been saying things that struck way too close to home. And between Dicey and that journal, D-Roc and the dreams, she knew she needed answers from somewhere. The journal just made her have more questions, because she didn’t want to believe that she was really somehow spiritually connected to all those women. Because if she believed that then she had to believe the other part of it, that Darius was her soul mate. Dicey just might be her best hope at sanity and reason.
Imagine that.
Dicey didn’t look at her hands at all. She looked right into her eyes and seemed to peer right into her very soul.
“You have old souls, you and he. And you’ve been very lucky to keep finding each other across time. You’ve always seemed to represent opposite paths. But you work best when you’re open and willing to learn from one another. You’re all about the people, doing what you can for the uplift and the cause of freedom. You’ve been a race woman, a black revolutionary. You’ve even been an abolitionist helping folks steal away to freedom on the Underground Railroad. Your souls go back very closely to the beginnings of time.”
Ok-ay. Wha-ev-er. The beginnings of time? Ye-ah ri-ght. Karen was about to laugh, but a strange feeling came over her. Karen clutched her hands on her lap as the eerie chill coursed through her body.
“I’m starting to think you had something to do with that journal, Dicey. Did Amina put you up to this?”
“I didn’t have anything to do with you getting the journal this time, and please call me Divine, dear one. As I was saying, the two of you seem to be opposites. But that’s only to people who aren’t looking carefully, who aren’t paying attention. The two of you cannot be the ones who aren’t paying attention.” Dicey grasped her hands and held them tightly when she said cannot, as if she needed to stress that more than words would allow her.
Karen slanted her eye. “Ri-ght. Ok-ay.”
“So skeptical. So serious.” Dicey let out an amused chuckle. It was almost as if she were pooh-poohing Karen’s silliness or something.
Karen frowned because she knew the woo-woo lady couldn’t possibly be pooh-poohing her. “So, let’s say I buy everything you’re saying. And let’s say Darius and I are these two souls who are for some reason continuing to meet up and hook up or whatever across time. Why? What could possibly be the reason for it?”
“You mean besides the fact that he’s your soul mate, dear one?” Dicey arched her eyebrow and twisted her lips.
“A reason that makes rational sense, not that I don’t believe in soul mates or anything…but, come on.”
“Well, sometimes souls are destined to connect and reconnect until they get it right. You know, work out all the kinks that stopped them from connecting more fully in past lives. Some people are destined to repeat their lives until they learn the lessons they are supposed to learn. Could be you’re just doomed to do it till you get it right. Sometimes souls have things to learn, and it takes them a little longer than one lifetime to learn it. Could be you have to learn how to do something that you maybe didn’t do in your past life. Maybe he has to learn how to devote his time to a righteous cause, and maybe you need to learn how to lighten up, relax and have fun. Or it could be no rhyme or reason to it at all, dear one. It could very well be that you are lucky enough to keep meeting up with the other half of your soul. Why not just enjoy it?”
Dicey closed her eyes and tilted her head back. “If you really need to rationalize it, then any one of those could be the case or none of them at all. Does it matter when you think about how your heart feels when he’s around? Your entire aura is telling me that it doesn’t. Don’t ignore that.”
Karen looked at her watch before opening her purse. “Well, I have to get back to the center. Those grant applications aren’t going to write themselves. How much do you normally charge for these readings?”
“This one was on the house, and because I’m feeling nice, I’ll throw in one more thing. If he is your soul mate, then he is literally the other half of you. The two of you complete each other, and your differences can only enhance and enrich one another and the relationship. You have to embrace it for what it is or risk losing your shot at happiness this lifetime. There will be plenty of people working to make the two of you fail. You don’t need to be in on it with them.”
Ri-ght. Ok-ay. “Well, I’ll take all of that into consideration. Thanks for the advice, Divine.” Karen got up, shook her head and chuckled softly as she started walking out. Dicey “Divine” Stamps had given her more than enough to think about, that was for sure. Thinking of Dicey’s full name made her remember Darius’s creepy manager.
“Oh, by the way, are you related to a Cullen Stamps?”
Dicey twisted up her lips, and it looked like she had tasted something sour. “Yes, he’s my little brother, why?”
/>
“He’s Darius’s manager and a really unpleasant person.”
“Unfortunately he’s always been unpleasant, and he always will be. He could never find our father’s favor, and goodness knows he’s been jealous of me for more years than I can count. He doesn’t like anyone happy. So, I’d watch out for him if I were you.”
Karen pursed her lips as she studied Dicey carefully. Cullen being related to Dicey was just one coincidence too many. She decided then and there to take everything Dicey said with a grain of salt. For all she knew, Dicey was probably in cahoots with her brother. She had no idea what they hoped to gain by getting her to believe that Darius was her soul mate. And there was also the fact that Dicey and Cullen seemed to have opposite and competing agendas when it came to her and Darius. But until she figured it all out, she would just place Dicey’s advice in the back of her mind.
“I’ll certainly watch out for him.” And you, too. “You never know who you can trust these days, that’s for sure.” With those words, Karen left Divine Intuition and went back to the center to wolf down her veggie sub and finish her grant proposals.
Cullen fumed and sulked for a full six minutes after getting off the phone with Karen. He wasn’t going to let her get in the way of his plans. And he wasn’t going to lose again.
Not this time…
He had too much riding on Darius doing exactly what he wanted him to do.
He picked up the phone and made some phone calls to check the progress on his demands from a few days ago. He made one call to the person who had given him all that useful information about Karen and her center, one to the person who could help him get Darius back in line and another to his two aces in the hole.
Karen and Darius would be over before they even began if he had anything to do with it.
Chapter 10
“Hey, son. I’m so glad you stopped by. I made your favorite—sweet potato pie.” His grandmother gave him a warm and loving embrace that made him wish he made it home to visit more often. “Come on back in the kitchen. I’ll cut you a big slice.”
He followed his grandmother back into the kitchen. Aunt Janice was sitting at the large cherrywood kitchen table smoking a cigarette and wearing her typical angry-at-the-world expression.
“Hey, Janice.” He walked over and gave her a hug even though he really didn’t want to get any smoke on him.
The smell of cigarettes made him want to retch. He hated that Janice essentially had the home he purchased for his grandmother smelling like an ashtray.
The yellow-and-white kitchen had cherrywood cabinets and stainless-steel appliances. Everything was top of the line. He’d made sure that the decorator he hired understood that he’d wanted only the best for his family. The room should have been bright, cheery and airy. But with Janice’s chain-smoking, everything seemed to be tinged with a dull gray blight.
Janice gave him a half-pat-on-the-back hug and didn’t even bother to get up out of her seat.
“Janice, why don’t you put that cancer stick out? You know the boy never liked the smell of those things.” His grandmother waved her hand back and forth as she frowned. She went over to the stove and cut him a big slice of sweet potato pie.
When she sat next to him, she smiled and rubbed his shoulder.
Janice twisted up her lips and cut her eyes at her mother and Darius. “He don’t live here. Why should I have to stop doing what I do all the time just because he decides to bless us with his presence? Please! He needs to go the hell back to Hollywood and leave us alone.” She blew out an exaggerated ring of smoke and cut her eyes again.
“It’s okay, Grandma. Janice is going to be Janice, regardless of how many folks she kills with her secondhand smoke.” He took a bite of the pie. The burst of cinnamon and vanilla hit him right away as he savored the layers of flavor in the filling and the perfectly flaky crust. The only thing that ruined the sensory experience of eating the pie was the nicotine-and-menthol smell wafting through the air.
“This is the best, Grandma. You outdid yourself as usual. You know I’m gonna have to get another two or three more slices of this.” He winked at her, and she grinned.
“Boy, you know when you’re in town I always make an extra pie. You can take it with you. I forgot that Frankie wasn’t here…so Janice and I can have the extra pie I made for him. You eat as much as you want.”
Janice sucked her teeth in disgust and jumped up from the table. “What you doing here anyway? Thought you said you was going to be volunteering your time in the hood to help other kids the way you should have been there to help Frankie? You might as well go back to Hollywood since you ain’t there for those kids either.”
Darius counted to ten in his head before looking up from his plate. “I am. I’m volunteering at the Shemar Sunyetta Youth Center. I just wanted to take some time to check on you two and see how you’re holding up.”
“Mmm-hmm.” Janice inhaled on her cigarette and exhaled slowly, all the while looking at him through a squinted eye glare.
“Shemar Sunyetta? Seems like I’ve heard of that name before…on the news. He was a rapper, too, like you, right? He was murdered a few years ago.” His grandmother’s forehead crinkled in contemplation.
“He was a better rapper than Darius, Mama. Shemar had flava and he was fine,” Janice said with a smirk. “I think I remember hearing something about some girl he left a bunch a money to using it to start a center in his honor. She must be one simple chick. I wouldn’t have used that money for no damn youth center.”
“Well, it’s a good thing not everyone is like you, Janice. From what I’ve seen so far, the center does good work. And Karen is a very dedicated and committed sista. She’s down for the cause and working for the people. And there isn’t one simple thing about her.” He realized that he maybe had a little too much agitation in his voice.
“Mmm-hmm.” Janice eyed him suspiciously.
“Anyway, I’m learning a lot about the center and the work she’s doing, and I plan to donate some money, as well. It’s important work, and she can use all the help she can get.” He eyed Janice’s suspicious glare and found his neck heating up. He felt the need to prove her wrong. “And I also plan on going back to personally volunteer there whenever I get a break between movies and the studio.” Take that, Janice!
Janice inhaled on her cigarette and exhaled slowly and dramatically. “Ye-ah. Wh-at-ev-er.” She smirked. “What did this community center chick do with all that money Shemar Sunyetta left her? Were they a couple or something? She must be a good-ass chicken-head if she got all y’all rapper types throwing money at her.”
“Janice!” His grandmother waved her hand at his aunt.
If only that would shut her up, but Darius knew that it would take more than shock or outrage from his grandmother to shut his aunt up.
“Anyway, Grandma, I’ll be back later this week to check on y’all.” He got up. As much as he wanted to be there for them, his aunt’s usual nasty mood was extra since Frankie’s death and he just didn’t have the patience. He’d end up saying things he couldn’t take back if he stayed.
His grandmother got up and wrapped one of the sweet potato pies in aluminum foil. “That should hold up for you. I’m cooking all your favorites for dinner on Sunday. You coming to church with me, right? Pastor would love to see you…”
“Whatever! Mama, I don’t know why you bother with that. That boy ain’t going to no church. I bet he won’t even stick around a full month. Volunteering my ass!” Janice tapped her acrylic nails on the kitchen table and shook her head so that her long, flowing weave bounced around, all the while puffing away on her cigarette.
He glared at his aunt and gave his grandmother a peck on the cheek. Yep, it is time to go. “I’ll see you on Sunday, Grandma. I’ll come pick you up for church. See you later, Janice.”
He left the house earlier than he had intended, but with his sanity intact. He decided to pay Cullen a visit just to touch base with his manager since he had some time b
efore he had to go back and pick up Karen for their date.
Cullen was out in the front of his office yelling at the receptionist and appeared to be in an even grumpier mood than usual. He looked up when Darius walked in and shook his head. “So the little bitch gave you my message?”
Darius frowned and looked behind him to see who Cullen was talking to. Seeing no one behind him, he slanted his eye questioningly. “What the hell are you talking about, Cullen?”
“The community center bitch. I called the place to speak to you and the little—”
“Are you talking about Karen?” He cut Cullen off, and the heat steadily rose from his chest to his forehead and his eyes narrowed and glared. “Her name is Karen, and I’d appreciate it if you never called her out of her name again.”
“What the hell are you getting all touchy for? What? I can’t call a bitch a bitch because I’m not a rapper?” Cullen laughed at his own joke.
“You can’t call her out of her name if you want to continue to do business with me. She’s a special woman who works hard and is devoted to a positive cause. Show some respect!”
Cullen rolled his eyes. “Fine. Whatever. Listen, you need to get back in the studio like yesterday. You don’t have that much time before you have to start filming again. There’s still a lot of work to be done. And maybe this isn’t the best time for you to be volunteering at some center. Do us all a favor and write a check.”
“This is important to me, and I’m doing it.” He hoped the firmness and finality in his tone was enough to get Cullen to back off.
“Listen, I didn’t want to say anything about this. But you’re leaving me no choice.” Cullen sighed and ran his hand across his closely cropped hair. “I did some background checking on this woman, and she has a history of messing around with men with money. In fact, the money she used to start her center came from another popular rapper who was murdered—Shemar Sunyetta.”
Make It Last Forever Page 9