Trey gave him a nod. “Hey.”
Antoine looked Trey up and down, but didn’t acknowledge his greeting. He continued to watch Trey until he got into his car and drove away. Then he came to where Makayla stood at the trash bin, going through and chucking junk mail.
"Now see, I wouldn’t have guessed you were into those preppy, rich boys."
His voice had an edge to it. The kind of edge that reminded her he was not to be played with.
"He's not rich and he's not mine."
Antoine nodded slowly. "Good to know. Good to know.”
Chapter 10
By the time Makayla and Trey arrived at the dorm the next night, the apartment and the hallway outside of it were already packed with people. Ciara’s voice filled the air and intertwined couples swayed to the rhythm. Narrowly dodging a drunk guy and his plastic cupful of spiked Kool-aid, Trey and Makayla went in search of a quiet spot. They’d just laid claim to a corner in the back of the room when Makayla heard a high-pitched shriek.
"Hey Charity, girl!”
She and Trey turned to find Shauna right behind them.
“Didn’t expect to see you here. Looks like you found my Trey Bear…”
Trey looked from Shauna to Makayla and back to Shauna. "Charity? Uh, no. This is Makayla. Makayla Dawson."
Shauna put her hand to the side of her mouth, as if sharing a secret.
"Inside joke."
"Oh, okay…” Trey said, glancing at Makayla. "I didn't realize you two knew each other."
"We've met,” Shauna said, eyeing Makayla, a fake smile plastered on her face.
"Twice,” Makayla added, wearing a plastic smile of her own.
If Trey sensed the tension between the two girls, he didn't let on. "Here on campus?"
Shauna tilted her head and arched an eyebrow. "No. In fact, I didn't even know she was a student."
Makayla did her best not to flinch under Shauna's pointed gaze. She could let Robin assume she was deciding between sororities and talk her way around Trey and his questions, but she had a feeling if Shauna wanted answers, a little sleight of hand wouldn’t be enough to fool her.
"Yeah," Trey said. Then he nudged Makayla with his elbow several times. "Though I'm still trying to get her major out of her. She's secretive to the point of suspicion. I'm starting to think she's a spy."
Makayla noticed how Shauna noticed the way Trey smiled when he looked at her.
Not good.
"Huh. That's interesting. I've seen a few episodes of The First 48. Maybe I can help with the interrogation."
Trey laughed. "I said spy, Detective Hairston. Not suspect."
Shauna shrugged as if to say, “Same difference." She studied her as she popped her gum. Makayla felt like someone had turned the apartment’s heater on full blast. She needed to change the subject.
Fast.
"Did Trey tell you about his new car?"
Shauna's eyebrow shot up. She finally took her attention off Makayla and directed it at Trey.
"New car?"
"Robin."
"What kind?"
“Escalade."
"Ooh, I like it! We have to compare notes. I might want one for myself."
"What? The Benz isn't doing it for you anymore?"
Makayla felt herself do a cartoon-worthy double take. The Benz? As in Mercedes? Who were these people?
"Wrecked it." Shauna pushed in between Trey and Makayla. She turned her body to face him, leaving Makayla with nothing but her back to stare at.
"My dad lost it, as usual.” She flicked the tip of one of her acrylics against the other. “Said I have to get a lower end car to replace it."
She made a face to show her disgust and Trey snickered.
"This is… What? Car number three? You're lucky he's getting you another one at all."
Trey noticed Shauna's body position and leaned forward to include Makayla in the conversation. She sincerely wished he hadn’t.
"I know you think Robin spoils me, but this one right here? The definition of spoiled brat."
Makayla forced a smile. "Really? Never would've guessed."
Shauna threw Makayla a sidelong glance over her shoulder. "We're not spoiled. We’re loved." She said it in a baby voice that made Makayla roll her eyes as far back as they’d go.
Shauna grabbed Trey's arm and wrapped herself around it. "Especially by Robin. Ever since we were kids. Remember how she used to come to church with her purse full of candy just for me?"
She looked back at Makayla. "Said I was the only person she ever knew with a sweet tooth is bad is hers. She still calls me her Sugar Baby."
"Awww…” Makayla said, not bothering to make it sound genuine. She was already using all her energy not to gag and didn't have any left over for much else.
Unfortunately, her sarcasm wasn't lost on Shauna. She turned to face Makayla.
“How is it you know Robin?" It sounded more like a challenge than a question.
Makayla smiled sweetly. "My Benz was in the shop, so she gave me a ride."
After three seconds of stunned silence, Trey busted out laughing. Shauna's eyes narrowed and the corners of her lips pulled up, but it was obvious Trey was the only one truly amused.
"You're funny. We should hang. What's your class schedule? We can meet up this week."
Makayla knew she should’ve left the moment she discovered Sugar Baby was in attendance. If she got caught, it would be because of Shauna. And since she had no intention of that happening, she needed to keep her distance.
Starting now.
The question was, how? Trey was her ride and he didn’t seem in any hurry to leave, which made sense since they’d only been there for about a minute. But Shauna was obviously gunning for her and from what Makayla could tell, the girl’s aim was good.
Makayla was about to feign illness so Trey could take her home, when something occurred to her.
With the exception of Shauna’s presence, this party was a good opportunity. A great opportunity, actually. She knew nothing about college outside of television shows she’d seen back when she had access to a TV. And other than DeShawn, none of the students who came into the gas station had anything to say to her. But here, she had a whole apartment full of them, half drunk and ready to spill.
She was going to need details to make her life as a college student believable and this was the place to get them.
But first, she needed to make an excuse to get away from and then avoid Shauna for the rest of the night. And from what she could tell, the best way to avoid Shauna was to let her have Trey all to herself. Makayla knew it wasn't what he had in mind when he invited her, but under the circumstances, she was more than willing to let him be the steak that distracted Shauna's inner pitbull.
"Hello?" Shauna waved her hand in front of Makayla's face. "Anyone home?"
Makayla bit her lip and tried to look embarrassed. "Hard to concentrate when you gotta pee. Let me run to the restroom right quick and then we'll talk, okay?"
The plan worked.
By the time the night was over, Makayla had culled enough facts to build her own believable college story. She was now a psychology major, taking some core classes on Mondays and Wednesdays, and General Psych and Statistics on Tuesdays and Thursdays. Her favorite teacher was Professor Hillard because he was funny and a bit absent-minded and her least favorite was David Gurney, because he was a hard nose that refused to give an A, regardless of the quality of work.
From there, it was just a matter of details and elaboration. She practiced on a few students and was glad to see them buy it. Of course, they’d all been drinking and probably weren’t as shrewd as Shauna, even when sober, but it was a start.
Makayla only needed to keep up the masquerade until she sorted out the Robin situation. Hopefully, that would happen sooner, rather than later.
Chapter 11
That Sunday, when Robin suggested Makayla join her again for dinner after the service, Makayla hesitated. However, once Robin told
her where they’d be going, Makayla couldn’t get to the car fast enough.
During the drive, her head was swimming with a dozen questions and though she was sure Robin tried to hold a conversation with her at some point, she didn’t hear a word the woman said.
When they finally pulled up to the small, ranch-style house and Makayla saw the older man waiting and waving at the door, she crossed her fingers in the hopes she’d be able to string more than two intelligible words together when she stood before him.
"Daddy!"
Robin ran up the concrete path and into the arms of the man as Makayla watched.
“Olive Oyl!”
Robin squeezed him so tight, Makayla thought the man might snap in two. He looked somewhat fragile, but seemed to hold up as they held each other and rocked back and forth.
Over Robin’s shoulder, he caught sight of Makayla. "And who’s this beautiful little girl you got here?"
"This is my Makayla."
My Makayla? Makayla felt her heart flutter at the words, but cautioned herself not to read too much into them.
"Makayla, this is my father, Emmett Jones."
My grandfather…
She’d never had one, blood related or otherwise. She'd heard other kids talk about their grandfathers when she was in school and even met one of them. But she’d never let herself imagine standing face to face with her own.
Even in a thinning, checked, button down shirt and worn brown slacks, something about him was old-school and elegant. Standing under his gaze, she suddenly felt incredibly shy.
Makayla gave a half smile and offered her hand. He took her hand and pulled her in for a hug. "Good to meet you, my Makayla," he said, patting her back.
Makayla had never believed in love at first sight, but if it existed, she imagined this is what it felt like.
"Well, come on in here, girl.” He stepped back and waved them in. “I got so much food back there, the three of us are gonna end up like beached whales over on that couch before the day is over."
Robin wrinkled her nose. "Classy, daddy. Real classy."
He nudged Makayla and winked. "See if it don't happen."
Sure enough, two hours later, all three of them were in the front room nodding off while watching TV One. At some point, they all fell asleep and by the time Makayla woke up, the sun was going down.
She sat perfectly still, watching Robin and Mr. Jones as they slept. He was in his recliner, head back, softly snoring. Robin was curled up at one end of the couch, while Makayla occupied the other.
Except for the muffled sound of the Sunday afternoon traffic on the street outside, the house was still. She couldn't help but think, This would've been my childhood…
More often than not, Makayla felt angry. It was her normal. She carried that anger with her for years. The way some kids carried a blanket or a favorite stuffed animal. The way some adults carried a lucky coin or keepsake, she carried her discontent.
But lately, ever since finding Robin, she'd noticed the weight of it. It seemed heavier than it once was. Harder to hold onto. It had also lost its purity. It kept getting diluted with a whole assortment of other feelings.
Like at that moment.
At that moment, when she looked at Robin, it wasn't only the usual undercurrent of resentment she’d felt for years. There was also sadness. And surprisingly, longing, too. She imagined what it would be like to crawl across the couch and into Robin's arms.
What would happen if she did?
Robin might be surprised at first. But maybe she’d let her stay. Maybe she’d even hug her back.
But what if she knew who Makayla was? Would that change things?
Makayla rubbed at her eyes to stop the burning that was the start of tears. The not knowing, being in limbo, it was almost worse than the anger. Certainly more exhausting…
On the shelf above the television, there were three framed family photos. As quietly as possible, Makayla lifted herself off the couch and crept toward them. The first one was of a baby, about three months old. It had to be Robin. Makayla didn't have any pictures of herself when she was a baby. Her grandmother didn't own a camera. She wondered if that picture was what she had looked like.
The next two pictures were of Mr. Jones and a woman who Makayla guessed was his wife, her grandmother. One was more recent, judging by the clothing. The couple sat on a porch swing, looking at each other and laughing, unaware of their picture being taken. The other photo was a posed shot. Mr. Jones looking sharp in a suit and tie and Mrs. Jones decked out in her Sunday’s finest. They were a good-looking couple. Something about that made Makayla feel proud.
Just beyond the entertainment stand that held the television, was a hallway. From where she stood, Makayla could see there were more photos lining the wall. She stole a glance over her shoulder. Robin and Mr. Jones were still sleeping, so Makayla silently made her way to the hall.
She had to cover her mouth to stifle laughter when she got a good look at the first picture in the hallway. It was a scrawny Mr. Jones, at least fifty years younger and wearing a hat cocked to the side.
Well, all right then, playa, she thought to herself, smiling.
Below it was another picture of him and Mrs. Jones. Their wedding. Seeing them both younger, Makayla could tell Robin took more after her father than her mother.
Further along the wall were pictures of Robin as she was growing up. Makayla only had one picture from her childhood. It was a faded and torn preschool photo her grandmother kept in her pocketbook. Looking at the photographs of Robin at about the same age, she could see the childhood resemblance. There was something about the eyes, maybe even the shape of their chins when they were kids…
But it was the last picture in the hallway that really grabbed her attention. It wasn't of Mr. Jones, Mrs. Jones or even Robin. She had no idea who the woman was, but she was no doubt one of the most beautiful Makayla had ever seen. The picture was old, from the forties or fifties maybe. The woman was outdoors, leaning against the hood of a car, her head tilted toward the camera.
Was she related to her? Makayla reached up to touch the face.
"Beautiful, wasn't she? My mother."
Makayla tried to play off the fact he’d nearly made her pee herself. She hadn't even heard Mr. Jones come down the hall. Fearing her voice would betray her, she only nodded.
He took the picture off the wall and dusted the glass with his sleeve. "This was the queen, right here. Ms. Caroline Ruby Jones."
“Caroline? Robin was named after her?"
He nodded. "All the girls in this family are."
Not me.
"She was stunning."
“Only got prettier, too. And I'm not just saying that because she was my mama, neither. They used to say Caroline Jones was the prettiest missionary to ever set foot in a church."
Makayla saw his eyes mist over and felt hers do the same, though she couldn't say why.
"It's cool, how you got all these pictures up and everything. My grandma had some around the house, but nothing like this."
"This?" Mr. Jones waved over the photo plastered hall wall. "This ain't nothing. Shoot. Honey got boxes and boxes of pictures stacked up in that closet. She intended on organizing ‘em all. You know, putting them in photo books. Just never had the chance. Been meaning to do it myself, but can never get that one in there to help me," he said, pointing his thumb back toward the living room.
Pictures? Of Robin and the rest of her family? Just waiting to be seen?
"Um, if you really wanted to do it, I'd be more than happy to help. If you wouldn't mind me being here, I mean…"
For a moment, Mr. Jones looked at her like she had two heads and she thought maybe she’d overstepped. But then he pointed a crooked finger at her.
"You know how long I've been trying to get her to help me with that?"
Relief washed over Makayla. "Too long?"
“You said it.”
He leaned his head back and looked at Makayla out of the side
of his eye. "See, I knew I liked you the minute I laid eyes on you. In fact…” He put his hand on one of the few empty spaces on the wall and leaned back to look into the living room. Satisfied with what he saw, he turned back to Makayla and motioned for her to come in close.
"I'm gonna show you something, but you gotta promise you won’t tell Olive Oyl.”
His eyes danced with mischievous glee and Makayla felt like they were two five year olds about to get into some wonderful trouble.
“Not a word,” she promised.
He crept toward a closed door further down the hall and motioned for her to follow. Slowly turning the handle, he swung the door open quickly, to minimize the squeaking of the hinges. Still holding onto the knob, they both stood completely still, listening for any sound from Robin.
When they didn't hear any, they continued into the room and Mr. Jones turned on the light. When he did, Makayla couldn’t believe what she saw. It was like stepping back into the nineties.
There were two canopy twin beds with pink and white ruffled bedding. They, like all the other furniture in the room, were white. The skinny bookshelf by the window overflowed with books and vhs movies. On one wall was a mirror that ran the length of the dresser beneath it. Pictures of a younger Robin with her many friends were jammed into all four edges of the mirror’s frame. Makayla was about to ask what was up with the time capsule bedroom, when Mr. Jones snickered like a rascally schoolboy.
"Lookie here!" He opened the top drawer of the long white dresser. Makayla peeked inside to find a treasure trove of candy. She giggled.
"Mr. Jones, why you hiding candy in a teenage girl’s dresser?"
He straightened up, his eyes wide with indignation. "I ain’t got no other choice! Every time she come over here, she go through my kitchen drawers and cabinets like she's the DEA! My bedroom and bathroom, too! I ain’t got no privacy. Had to find a place she wouldn't look."
He stuck his hand in the pile of sweets and shuffled around before bringing up an orange-colored stick of candy.
Nobody’s Child (New Life Tabernacle Series Book 1) Page 6