All the Things I Meant to Tell You
Page 25
“You don’t need to worry about Sam’s career.”
“Oh, I do. So, that when I catch him slipping, I can get my girl back.”
“Your girl?” I scoffed. “Torian we’ve been over a long time. If this offer with YS&S is just about you rekindling something that’s dead, I suggest that you don’t get your hopes up.”
“It’s not just about that. I already told you I wanna see you win. You’re hanging on by a thread now. In a minute you won’t be able to send Rochelle those utility bill checks.”
Torian felt just like the devil, and I didn’t accept his bleak outlook on my business or my finances.
“Listen, I’ll set up the meeting with YS&S. It can be a dinner meeting. We’ll go to Ray’s on the River . . . my treat.”
The more Torian talked the more his voice bothered me. The more his smug demeanor nauseated me. I remembered when I thought this was sexy. I used to think it made him look like a boss. Now, I much preferred Sam’s quiet strength and support to Torian’s bodacious asshole-ness.
But I also wasn’t stupid.
“No dinner meeting. We have a perfectly good conference room here. If you’re serious about this, and it’s not just some plot to get back in my bed, please have your admin reach out to Sylvia to set it all up.”
Torian threw his head back and laughed. “If I wanted you back, I’d already have you. Your new man isn’t really competition, is he?”
I stood to signal the end of this meeting or whatever it was. It felt like an attack.
“I look forward to hearing from you about the YS&S engagement.”
I hit him with the corporate meeting close. The professional goodbye. I wanted to tell him to get the hell out of my office.
“We’ll be reaching out soon,” Torian said. “This will be an amazing partnership. The first of many.”
The thought of that nauseated me some more. I sat slowly, trying to keep my head from spinning in the process.
Corden stormed back in my office with his arms waving. I knew when he slammed the door that he was furious.
“Don’t tell me we’re doing this with Torian.”
“It’s a good opportunity. We don’t have much of a choice, do we?”
“We do. He’s trying to waltz up in here to save the day like we’re destitute or something.”
“We’re not?”
“No. We are rebuilding.”
“So, what, we throw this party, call it Data Baby, and hope top notch clients come out the woodwork looking to work with us?”
“The networking event is a great idea. It was Sam’s idea. And you were on board with it before Ghostface Torian walked up in here saying other wise.”
“You’re right. Let’s have the party and meet with YS&S. No problem with flushing out all the options.”
“Okay. But if I have to look at Torian across the table, I might get up and throat punch his ass.”
I shook my head. “Don’t look at him then. We need this.”
Ghostface or not, Torian had just brought in the best news I’d had in the months since Hale Brexton destroyed my business with his lies and intentional data breaches. Nothing was going to stop me from reestablishing The Data Whisperers as one of the top Atlanta consultants for data analytics.
Not even the ex-boyfriend who’d broken my heart. Sam and I could toast to this opportunity with wine and strawberries in bed.
Chapter 40
KIMBERLY
The guest room for Kayla and Carly was ready, Sean and his new girlfriend were invited, and the groceries were purchased for Kimberly and Ron’s Thanksgiving feast. She was having all of her friends over, including some of the bridal party. Anytime a large meal needed to be prepared, she was the hostess. Hahna and Twila were acceptable sous chefs, but they knew more about hiring caterers than about making parker rolls from scratch.
The only thing she was feeling anxiety about was the handoff with Sabrina and Ron of the twins. He had requested that Sabrina drop the girls off at Kimberly’s house, and she had balked at that. But Ron had a business meeting about purchasing a new commercial property in Birmingham and he wouldn’t have time to drive to North Carolina to pick them up. Ron would be there for the drop off, but Kimberly was anxious, nonetheless.
The three family counseling sessions they’d had were fruitful even if they hadn’t solved all of their problems. Frank had come to the last one and Ron had reluctantly apologized for threatening violence. He’d also thanked him for being a good stepdad . . . so far.
It hadn’t been a resolution, but it had been a start.
Still, when Kimberly extended the invitation to have the twins for Thanksgiving at her home, Sabrina hadn’t seemed sold on the idea. In fact, she hadn’t said yes until she’d had a separate conversation with Ron—alone. Kimberly didn’t like the separate conversations but didn’t want to seem insecure by asking them to stop. So, she endured and listened when Ron came back to her with details.
Ron joined Kimberly in the doorway of the twins’ bedroom. He kissed her neck and rubbed her back.
“It looks so nice. The girls are gonna love it.”
“Where is Sabrina? She said she was dropping them off today.”
“She texted me that about fifteen minutes ago. She’s twenty minutes away. Stuck in traffic.”
“Why couldn’t she text that to me? She’s coming to my house, and she’s aware that I’ve decorated the room for the girls. I asked her everything that they like.”
“I honestly think she’s embarrassed about how she’s been acting, and she might be just a tad bit intimidated by you.”
Kimberly scrunched her face into a frown. “How could she be intimidated by me? She’s the perky little soccer mom.”
“Kimmie Kim you are amazing. And yes, she is a soccer mom. That’s all she is. She doesn’t have a law degree and a million-dollar business. And you’re sexy as hell. You have it all.”
“Including you.”
“I don’t think she cares about that.”
Kimberly shrugged. Ron might’ve been right, but it sure felt like she cared. Luckily, Kim wasn’t worried about Ron wanting Sabrina back. If there had been any insecurity there, it would’ve been a real problem.
“Who all is coming over for Thanksgiving?” Ron asked.
Kimberly knew he was trying to change the subject, and this time she was willing to oblige. She also didn’t want to think about Sabrina’s potential issues.
“It’ll be small. Hahna and Sam, Twila, and our little family. A few of the sorors might stop by too.”
“My mama is coming too,” Ron said.
“Wait. What? Your mother is coming?”
Ron burst into laughter. “I wish you could’ve seen your face. Oh, my goodness. My mama isn’t coming. She’s mad we aren’t coming there.”
“I didn’t know she wanted us to come.”
“She’ll be fine. I told her how important it was for you to make the twins feel welcome and she was agreed.”
“Oh, good.”
“She just said we better have our greasy asses there for Christmas.”
Kimberly sighed in relief. “Sure will, with gifts in tow.”
“You know I was thinking we should give Carly and Kayla some gifts while they’re here. Like an early Christmas.”
“I haven’t done any shopping yet. I don’t know that I’ll have time.”
“Don’t worr y,” Ron said. “I’ll take care of it. I never get to see them open their gifts on Christmas morning. Sabrina does this whole Santa Claus thing . . .”
“They still believe in Santa?”
“Yes. They’re only five.”
“I’ve got an idea. Maybe we can put up the tree the day after Thanksgiving and have a visit from Santa!”
Kimberly got excited thinking about it. Maybe she would be a good mom, and not just to Carly and Kayla, but to babies of her own.
“Ron, do you think you’re done having children?” Kimberly asked.
“The equipm
ent still works. Why? Do you want a baby?”
Kimberly turned to face Ron. She appreciated the tender look on his face that made her feel safe whispering the thought she hadn’t yet said aloud.
“Maybe, I do. I haven’t seen a doctor to ask about the possibility of it, but I’m not against it. I feel like I’m warming up to the idea.”
“I love being a dad, so if we had a baby, I’d be happy about it.”
“And if we didn’t?”
Ron kissed Kimberly’s forehead. “That wouldn’t bother me either. I’m here for either scenario.”
The doorbell rang, so they would have to finish the conversation later. Kimberly rushed to the door with Ron at her heels. She wanted to open the door. Sabrina was going to acknowledge her whether she wanted to or not.
She swung the door open and Sabrina stood there with the girls. She’d attempted to do their hair, and while it wasn’t perfect, Kimberly could smell the signature coconut scent from the CurlPop products.
Kimberly hugged Carly and Kayla and smiled at Sabrina. “Come on in. I want you to see the room I did for the girls.”
“We have a room here?” Carly asked. “This is Ms. Kimberly’s house.”
“Remember we said that Ms. Kimberly and Daddy are getting married?” Sabrina said. “When you spend time with Daddy it will be here.”
“Ms. Kimberly is gonna be Daddy’s wife,” Kayla said.
“And we get to be in the wedding,” Carly said. “We’re gonna be princesses, Daddy!”
Both girls swarmed Ron like they did every time he saw them. It was most heartbreaking that he couldn’t have them every day and had to settle for weekends and holidays. Kimberly hated to see his sadness when he had to take them home.
Kimberly led the way to the twins’ bedroom. When she opened the door and turned on the light, both Carly and Kayla started screaming.
“Kimberly this is incredible. They are in unicorn heaven,” Sabrina said.
Kimberly had maybe gone a little overboard, but that wasn’t out of the ordinary. The walls were pale blue and pink ombre with glitter and sparkles all over. There were two twin canopy beds with unicorn comforters. The carpet looked like pink cotton candy and the pillows were cotton candy blue. Pastel rainbows adorned the walls and the headboards. If there was a unicorn heaven, this was it.
Ron’s phone buzzed in his pocket. He took it out, looked at the caller ID and frowned.
“I gotta take this. Do y’all mind?”
Sabrina shook her head. “We’re fine, right, Kimberly.”
Kimberly nodded but wondered if that was a true statement.
Ron left the room, and there was an awkward silence. Sabrina moved to help the girls look in the toy box and inside the closet where Kimberly had bought them beautiful robes and unicorn slippers. In the closet also hung the flower girl dresses.
“Are these their dresses for the wedding?” Sabrina asked as she took one of them out of the closet to admire it.
“Yes. They still have to be altered a bit, but yes.”
“This fabric is so . . . colorful! I’ve never seen anything like it. Ron said it’s an African print. Is it actually from Africa?”
“Yes, I have a Nigerian friend who prepares wedding attire. The girls’ dresses match the men’s vests.”
“The bridesmaids will have this print as well?”
“No. Their dresses are a pale pink. One of the colors of our sorority.”
“That is going to be so pretty,” Sabrina said as she put the dress back on the closet rack. “I wish I was going to be see it in person.”
“You aren’t going to be there?”
Sabrina sat in a powder blue unicorn chair. It was just a bit bigger than child size, so her knees nearly touched her chest.
“No, we’ve decided not to come. I really thought about it, and it’s not appropriate for me to be there on your special day.”
“Ron doesn’t mind. W-we don’t mind.”
Sabrina smiled slowly. “I know you don’t, and I’m grateful for your graciousness there. I realized that I was just using this as a way to somehow punish Ron.”
Kimberly’s lip twitched. Punish Ron? Hadn’t she already punished him enough by cheating on him and then marrying her lover?
“Punish him for what?”
“For moving on, I suppose. You were right to see that, Kimberly. I think I didn’t even see it until we sat in that first counseling session. I still have some things to work out about how our marriage deteriorated . . .”
Yes, you do. You need to work out your narcissistic tendencies.
Kimberly bit her lip to keep any untoward words from spilling out. She was doing a good job of holding it together too.
“. . . but what I do know is that I trust you and Ron to take care of the girls in Jamaica. I always trusted him, and now I trust you as well.”
“Thank you.”
“Plus, I think a couple of your bridesmaids have it out for me. It might not even be safe.”
Kimberly’s eyebrows shot up, and she started to object on the basis of the fact that not all black girls had violent tendencies. But since she couldn’t, not with a straight face anyway, argue that Sabrina was wrong, she decided to let it go.
“We’ll have a ton of pictures and videos of the girls.”
“I would love that. Can you make sure to get one with Sean and the girls? I’d like to put that in their room.”
“Yes, absolutely.”
Ron walked back into the room and gave Sabrina a curious look. She was still seated in the unicorn chair.
“What did I miss?” Ron asked.
“I just told Kimberly that Frank and I have to send our regrets for the wedding. We won’t be able to attend.”
“Is there something wrong?” Ron looked from Kimberly to Sabrina and then back to Kimberly.
“Um . . . well . . .” Sabrina couldn’t seem to spit the words out.
“They had something come up, but she wants lots of pictures of the twins and a nice one with Sean to put in their room at home.”
“Okay,” Ron said. “Thanks for letting us know.”
Sabrina stood and straightened her skirt. “I guess I better get on the road. I’ve got a Thanksgiving dinner to prepare myself.”
“Really?” Ron asked sounding truly surprised.
“Yes, I do cook. I’m sure I can’t put my ankles in some macaroni and cheese, but I am from the south too.”
“Ankles?” Ron asked.
“She means foot . . . I think,” Kimberly said.
“Yes, foot. That is what I mean. Anyway, I’ve got to get going girls. Give mommy a hug.”
Carly and Kayla gave Sabrina the briefest of goodbye hugs. They were busy creating a whole new world with their unicorn dolls.
“Upstaged by unicorns,” Sabrina said.
“They’re nice unicorns though,” Ron said.
Sabrina shrugged and gave Kimberly an even briefer hug than the ones her daughters gave her. She stopped in front of Ron and gave him a fist bump. This made him chuckle, but Kimberly appreciated the lack of embrace given to her future husband.
Kimberly and Ron walked Sabrina to the door where she waved goodbye and promptly sped out. Kimberly didn’t miss the glistening in her eyes when she did so. She even felt a twinge of compassion for her soulmate’s ex-wife.
It was just a twinge, though. Not enough to make Kimberly beg her to be a part of their wedding in Jamaica. They could take the co-parenting in small doses and milestones.
“I wonder if they really had something come up,” Ron said.
“Naw. She just felt like it wasn’t appropriate for her to be there.”
“I bet she thought Traci and Abena was gonna beat her ass in Jamaica,” Ron said as she pulled down the driveway.
“Maybe she did. I’m just glad she’s deciding to stay at home.”
“I would’ve uninvited her,” Ron said. “All you had to do was say the word.”
“No, it’s better this way. Bet
ter for her to feel like it was her idea. It feeds her victim narrative.”
Ron shook his head and laughed. “You’ve got her pegged, huh?”
“Sure do. She ain’t getting away with nothing over here.”
Ron wrapped Kimberly in his arms and squeezed her tightly. “Thank you for the girls’ bedroom. They love it.”
“Well, I love them. And their daddy, so . . . I’d build five unicorn bedrooms if it means I get to see your dimpled face smiling at me.”
Ron glanced in the direction of the girls’ bedroom. “You think they’ll miss us if we disappear for about ten fifteen minutes?”
“Nope,” Kimberly giggled. “In fact, I think you got a good twenty-five, thirty minutes if you ask me.”
Ron grabbed Kimberly’s hand and led her to the stairs. Kimberly squealed in anticipation, and Ron held his finger to his lips for quiet.
As they ascended the stairs on tiptoe, Kimberly felt a weight lifted from her. Sabrina didn’t need to witness their union, because she wasn’t a part of their tribe—not really—not their marital tribe. They would have to forge a path to blending their families; oil and water could only mix if there was another substance to bind them together.
The twins would have to be the tie that bound them all.
Chapter 41
TWILA
I stood in line at the Thanksgiving turkey handout. The one that I’d found on Fatima Adams’s Facebook page. I picked this event, because it looked like something she was doing with a different ministry group at her church. Hopefully that meant Alexander wasn’t going to be there.
I needed to get her alone.
I’d gone through great pains to make myself look less-than-fortunate, but I don’t know if I’d accomplished that feat. I’d covered my expensive Thanksgiving weave with a baseball cap, left my jewelry at home and hadn’t worn a stitch of makeup. I’d driven my car to the bus depot and taken a bus to the location. I still felt like I didn’t fit in with the rest of the people in line.
As I got closer to the front of the line, I could see the women at the table handing out the turkeys. Fatima was there and a few others. On the surface, Fatima seemed happy wearing her ministry dress and sneakers, but there was a sadness in her eyes. I noticed it, but I bet no one else in her circle cared to pull the layers back.