Exposed: An Anthology

by Brooke Cumberland

  “That’s the least of my worries.” I laughed and grabbed a pair of shorts, a bra, and a paisley shirt I had gotten at a vintage shop. I quickly got dressed and brushed my hair, letting it hang loose instead of in my usual ponytail. I applied some light makeup with a dash of lip-gloss, and smiled at my reflection. I looked pretty and in love, and I thought that this moment was perhaps the happiest I had ever been in my life.

  “Aren’t you ready yet?” I heard Zane at my doorway, and spun around.

  “You are so impatient.” I rolled my eyes.

  “I missed you.” He walked into the room and grabbed me, pulling me towards him. I clung to him and stared up at his handsome face. His blue eyes seemed so open, and there was a devilish spark in them.

  “I am not having sex with you, Zane Beaumont.”

  “Who said I wanted sex?” He pouted and trailed his finger down my throat. “I just came to make sure you were okay.”

  “In case I fell in the toilet or something?”

  “You know, you can’t be too careful.”

  “Well, of course not.”

  “You are the girl whose car broke down in the middle of the night, after all.”

  “Indeed I am.”

  “And you’re the girl who accepted a job with a strange guy and moved across the country.”

  “I know. What was I thinking?” I shook my head in despair. “I’m a silly, silly girl.”

  “Yes, you are.” He kissed my nose. “So, of course you understand why I had to come up and make sure you were okay.”

  “Hmm, I still think you’re not going to get laid right now.”

  “Well, then, let’s go eat.” He laughed, planted a firm kiss on my lips, and dragged me out of the room. “And by the way, your lip gloss tastes like a strawberry milkshake.”

  “Yummy.” I stuck my tongue out at him and he squeezed my hand. As we walked into the kitchen, I picked up my phone to see if I had any messages.

  “Everything okay?” Zane looked up at me, and noticed my frown.

  “Yeah. It’s just Leeza.” I offered him a quick smile and looked back at the text from Braydon.

  Hey Lucky, I miss you. I haven’t heard from you in almost two weeks. Give me a call. I’m coming to Los Angeles soon. I’d love to take you around and show you a good time. I hope all your history knowledge is paying off and that Zane isn’t being a complete and utter jackass. I saw Angelique last night, and she told me she dumped him. I’m sure he’s pretty sore, so just ignore him. Text or call me.

  I read the text message twice before putting my phone down. I felt my heart thudding as I accepted the sandwich from Zane. I studied his face to see if I could see any stress lines around his eyes. I was quiet as I ate my sandwich. Braydon’s text had ruined my mood, and all of a sudden, I just wanted to be by myself.

  “Hey, Lucky, what did Leeza have to say?” Zane looked at me from across the table with a guarded expression.

  “She just wanted to know when I’d be back in Miami.”

  “Oh.” He looked away. “What did you say?”

  “I didn’t respond. I don’t really know.”

  “I guess when the documentary is finished.” He stood up. “Are you done with your plate?”

  I nodded and bit my lip as he carried our plates to the sink. “So do you have a date place in Los Angeles as well?”

  “Sorry, what?” He turned around with a frown.

  “Do you have a place you take your dates every Friday night here as well?”

  “No.” His reply was curt.

  “Why were you in Miami?” I asked him cautiously. “Were you researching for the documentary?”

  “No.” He paused. “I had some other stuff going on.”

  “Like dating a different girl every week?”

  “What can I say? I like the company of beautiful women.” He walked away from me. “Are you ready?”

  “Did you date Angelique?”

  “Angelique?” He looked back at me brusquely. “Why?”

  “I was just curious. You were very cozy with her at the party, but I never saw her with you at the diner.”

  “I never took her to the diner.”

  “So she was more than a one-time date?”

  “Why are you asking me these questions, Lucky?” He sighed. “We have to get going, Mr. Johnson will be wondering where we are.”

  “Why is my bedroom so feminine?” The words shot out of my mouth before I could stop them. “Did Angelique design the room?”

  “What’s your sudden preoccupation with Angelique?” He sighed. “Can we talk about this later?”

  “Why won’t you tell me?” I continued, now frustrated. “Was she your girlfriend or not?”

  “Look, Lucky, Angelique was not my girlfriend, and neither are you. Stop nagging me, please.” He opened the door and waited for me to walk through.

  Tears stung my eyes as I walked through the front door. My heart was beating so loudly that I was positive Zane could hear it. You’re not his girlfriend, Lucky. You’re not his girlfriend. That’s all I could think about as I got into his car silently. His words hurt me to my very core and I stared out the window. Well, that puts you in your place, I thought to myself. We may be lovers and we may have a developing friendship, but that’s all it was and all it would ever be. I sighed as I sat back. I wanted to go home. This was a lot harder than I thought it was going to be, and if I was honest with myself, I knew that I wasn’t cut out for rejection. Not after everything. I wasn’t the sort of girl who could and would put up with anything just to get the guy she loved. That realization hit me like a ton of bricks. I was falling in love with Zane, and I didn’t want it to be an upward battle. I wanted him to know and realize, as surely as I did, that we had a connection. I wanted him to be the one pursuing me, and not vice versa.

  “I didn’t mean to be rude to you back there, Lucky,” Zane started talking slowly as he drove. “You know I think you’re special. I’m just not one of those guys that likes being questioned.”

  “I understand,” I mumbled, continuing to stare out of the window.

  “I met Angelique through my brother, Noah. We have a special relationship.” His voice was soft.

  “Does she know I’m staying with you?”

  “I don’t answer to anyone, Lucky. I thought you understood that.”

  “Do you love her?”

  “I don’t do love.” He sighed. “If you don’t think you can handle an unconventional relationship, we should end this now, Lucky.”

  “End what?” My voice rose. “You mean, we should stop fucking?”

  “If you aren’t able to separate sex from a commitment, then maybe we should.” His voice was gruff. “I know you haven’t been in a relationship in a while, and I understand if you can’t do this.”

  “Do what?” I laughed lightly, trying to hide the pain from my voice.

  “I know it’s hard for girls to sleep with a guy and not develop feelings, but I thought after our conversation that you knew the deal.”

  “I do know the deal.”

  “I don’t want to argue with you, Lucky. I’ve enjoyed two week so far, but I’m not going to put up with you trying to go down the relationship and jealousy road.”

  “What jealousy?” I said, feeling mortified. “I was just asking you a few questions. It’s not a huge deal, Zane. What’s your fucking problem?” I started shouting. “Why is everything a secret? Shit, we’ve all got issues. We’ve all been hurt. Deal with it. Okay? Just deal with it.”

  “Calm down.” Zane’s voice became cold. “Take a deep breath and calm down. We are going to pull up to Mr. Johnson’s house in a few minutes. I don’t want him seeing you look like a shrew.”

  “I don’t look like a shrew!” I screamed at him angrily. I was upset that he had turned it all around on me and hadn’t addressed my questions.

  “Do you have the questions you’re going to ask him ready?” He changed the subject. “We’ll need accurate dates and names from him
. Write down every detail. We should also confirm when he is available for us to come back with cameras.”

  “So we’re not going to talk about it anymore?”

  “Lucky, you have a decision to make.” He looked at me briefly, and I quickly averted my eyes from his gaze.

  “I have a decision?” I laughed sarcastically. “I don’t think this is about me.”

  “If this is too hard for you, we don’t have to continue.” His voice was soft as he pulled up in the driveway. “I don’t want to hurt you.” I felt his arm on my shoulder and I continued staring out the window. I could feel tears welling up in my eyes and my head was starting to pound.

  “Lucky, look at me please.”

  “What?” I turned to face him, and I was surprised by the pain in his expression.

  “I don’t want to hurt you.” He sighed and rubbed his forehead. I was starting to realize that was his telltale sign for when he was feeling stressed out. “Maybe this wasn’t a good idea.”

  “Maybe it wasn’t,” I replied slowly and sighed.

  “I like you a lot, Lucky.” His words were slow. “I love waking up to you in the morning. I love spending time with you. I love talking to you about history and movies.”

  But you’re not in love with me. I stared at him and studied the cut of his jaw. It was so square and sharp. His face was so classically handsome. I thought he looked like he could have been a chiseled statue of a Roman god. He was so hard and unflinching. To some, he would also appear uncaring, but I knew that he was not at all what he appeared to be. Inside, he was one of the most caring and wonderful men I had ever met.

  “Are you going to answer me, Lucky?”

  “Let’s go inside.” I took off my seatbelt and opened the car door. I was not willing to have this conversation now. I needed time to think. I knew I should just tell him it was over, but there was a part of me that loathed the thought of saying the words. I didn’t want to give him up already. He had wormed his way into my life, and I didn’t want to let that feeling go.

  “Okay, let’s go and see Mr. Johnson.” He nodded at me as he closed his car door and walked towards the front door. I followed him in silence, hoping that I wouldn’t start crying during the interview.

  ***

  “Thanks for allowing us the opportunity to do a pre-interview with you, Mr. Johnson.” Zane shook the elderly man’s hand, and I nodded my affirmation.

  “No problem.” The man ushered us in to his house. “We’ll sit in the kitchen, if you don’t mind. My wife has made some tea and cookies.”

  “That sounds great. Thank you,” I beamed.

  “No problem. We’re happy to have visitors.” He chuckled. “My Betty and I don’t know many people here in California.”

  “You moved from Chicago, right?” I smiled, trying to impress him with my knowledge.

  “Yes.” He shivered. “We moved to get away from the cold.”

  “Sidney’s arthritis couldn’t take the winters anymore.” An elderly lady came up to me and gave me a hug. “Hello, my dear. I’m Betty Johnson, Sidney’s wife.”

  “Nice to meet you, Mrs. Johnson.” I gave her a big, genuine smile, happy to forget about my conversation with Zane for a while.

  “No problem. Sidney and I were happy to hear that a documentary was going to be made about residential segregation. You don’t hear much about it these days.”

  “That’s why it’s so important for us to make this documentary,” Zane interjected.

  “Well, what do you want to know?” Sidney Johnson smiled.

  “Everything.” I laughed.

  “Lucky’s a history major, with a focus on the Civil Rights Movement,” Zane explained. “She’s also my assistant.”

  “Oh, so then you know some of what happened then?” Sidney looked at me with kind brown eyes. I grinned back at him and thought of my father. They had the same aura to them, and in some inexplicable way, I felt a certain connection to this elderly African-American man.

  “I’d like to hear about it from your perspective.” I looked at Zane and he nodded. “I had some questions, but I thought maybe you could just sort of run through your experience first?”

  “Sure. Y’all better have a seat.” He laughed. “And some tea and cookies.”

  “Sidney can talk, so I hope you have a long time.” Betty laughed at us, and I smiled back at her.

  “Thanks.” I helped myself to a cookie and sat back.

  “Well, I was born in North Carolina, you know. Back in those days, most of us were still in the South. I was born in the 1930s, right before WWII and the Great Depression.”

  “Sidney, that was long before WWII.” Betty rolled her eyes.

  “Well, WWII began in 1939. When were you born, Mr. Johnson?” I asked.

  “He was born in 1930.” Betty laughed.

  “Wow. You look great for your age, Mr. Johnson.” Zane complimented the older man.

  “It’s because my wife has treated me so well all these years.” He laughed, and Betty hit him with a cloth.

  “He is always trying to butter me up.”

  “So, like I said, I was born in North Carolina. But back in those days, we didn’t really have any opportunity for jobs or school. My parents had six kids, you know. They had a lot of mouths to feed and they wanted us to get a good education.”

  “So they couldn’t get jobs in North Carolina?” Zane interrupted.

  “No, not back in those days,” I interrupted. “The South was still very much full of Jim Crow. I’m sure his parents would only have gotten sharecropper jobs or work on some farm.”

  “Exactly.” Sidney smiled at me and nodded. “My momma got a job cleaning houses for some of the rich white people in town, and my pops worked on a cotton field. They made okay money, but they got no school for the blacks in the town we lived in.”

  “Whites didn’t want blacks to get education,” I interrupted as I noticed Zane’s puzzled face. “Back in those days, not many people went to school, only rich whites. Poor whites had some opportunity, but blacks only had access if another black decided to teach them, or if a teacher came down from the North.”

  “Thanks.” Zane smiled at me, and I noticed the respect for my knowledge in his eyes.

  “And, boy, let me tell you. There was no opportunity for any education in my town.” Sidney shook his head. “So when the man came down from the North, telling my parents that he had jobs for them and that there was schools for us to go to, well, they got real excited.”

  “I was already in the North,” Betty interrupted. “So my family didn’t go through this.”

  “Yes, Betty’s great-grandfather freed himself.” Sidney nodded. “He was a butler for a rich white family in New York.”

  “They treated my family real nice.” Betty nodded. “The whole family was real nice. They treated us well.”

  “He freed himself from being a slave?” Zane leaned forward eagerly. “I bet that’s an exciting story.”

  “One we don’t have time for today, Zane,” I reminded him gently and Sidney laughed.

  “You two remind me of me and my wife.”

  “Oh, we’re not—” I started, but Zane frowned at me, shaking his head slightly.

  “Continue with your story, Sidney,” Zane spoke over me. “This is all new to me, and I’m excited to hear what happened next.”

  “Well, my pops packed us all up and we moved up to Chicago.” He paused. “It wasn’t normally like that, though. Most times, the man went up to the North by himself and got everything ready and sent for the family later. But my daddy didn’t want to be without my momma.”

  “That’s so sweet,” I exclaimed emotionally.

  “Yeah. Well, it may have been sweet, but I’m not sure it was smart.” He shook his head. “By the time we got to Chicago, the Great Depression had hit. They weren’t giving the jobs to blacks no more. There weren’t enough jobs to go around, and we was at the bottom of the pile. It didn’t help that neither of my parents had a high s
chool diploma, either.”

  “So what did they do?” I leaned forward.

  “They had some money saved, so they tried to rent an apartment in Hyde Park. It was a nice part of Chicago and they had good schools. They wasn’t segregated at the time, so we could go to them.”

  “So it seems like all went well?” Zane looked at Sidney curiously.

  “It wouldn’t be worth a documentary if it went well, would it?” Sidney cackled and shook his head. “At first we thought it would. We got a two-bedroom place and my momma found a job as a cleaner for a nice family. But then they raised the rent. They wanted us to pay double what the whites were paying, or we had to leave.”

  “That’s not fair,” Zane interrupted again.

  “There was no housing laws then.” Sidney shook his head. “When we said we wouldn’t pay more than the white folks, we got evicted. My parents, they tried to find another apartment in that part of town, but no one would show them any. Said we weren’t qualified. Well, we knew that what they meant was that we weren’t white.”

  “It happened all over Chicago, and New York, and Boston.” I nodded. “Residential segregation was rampant after The Great Migration.”

  “The Great Migration?” Zane frowned.

  “That’s what they called the time period when a huge mass of blacks moved up North from the South. At first, the whites didn’t mind, they didn’t have the same institutionalized racism as they did in the South. I mean, there was still racism, but that was towards anyone new really: the Irish, the Italians—they were all met with skepticism. But the big cities, they grew too big too fast, and as jobs were lost, the new migrants were the ones that the hostilities were taken out on.”

  “They lost jobs due to the migration?”

  “No, do you know about The Great Depression?”

  “Not really?”

  “Oh.” I frowned, suddenly confused. Why was Zane making a documentary on a subject he knew so little about?

  “You’re very knowledgeable, Lucky.” Sidney smiled. “Unfortunately, there was a lot of corruption in Chicago and a lot of politics going on. They created a ghetto on the South side, and basically all the blacks were forced to live there.”

  “Forced?” Zane interjected. “How did they force you?”