“That came out of nowhere.”
“It was just that we were talking about the reasons they could break up and that could be a reason and . . . Oh, God,” I moaned.
He said, “How do you know this?”
I shook my head.
“Come on; I won’t say anything to Gabby.”
Still, I hesitated, but not for too long. “I read a piece of paper by accident. A test he’s doing, a drug he’s taking. Please don’t tell Gabrielle.”
He held up his hand. “No worries. I told you I won’t.” Then his gaze left me and was on the televisions. “So”—he nodded—“Mauricio is shooting blanks.” He chuckled, then with the remote, clicked off the televisions. Facing me, he said, “Okay, sweetheart, let’s do this.”
With a nod, I agreed. But really, with what just happened, my work today was done. It was clear Justus hadn’t known about Mauricio’s condition. But he showed no signs of suspecting that Bella might be his.
Still, she could be, I just had to figure it out. And then . . . I had a thought. Maybe there was a way that I could let somebody else figure it out for me.
35
Gabrielle
As I edged my car from the garage, I wondered if I really wanted to do this. Even the sun was just waking up, so no one should be dressed and out already.
But I needed to do this, so I set the car into drive, made a left and headed north. I yawned my way through the streets of Santa Monica as the sun made a lazy ascent to the horizon. Finally, I hooked a right, then drove into the Venice Beach parking lot.
Even though it was Saturday and the clock had just ticked to seven, the lot was filled with cars that belonged to the group of the fifty or so people already on the edge of the beach.
I peeked through the cluster of men and women and spotted Regan right away—the only member of the LA Road Runners with hips. I wondered how much longer she’d be doing this, but I was sure it would take a doctor’s order to make her stop.
Jumping from my car, I trudged through the sand, snaking my way through until I stood next to Regan.
Her eyes were on the young women demonstrating a hamstring stretch. I got into the formation, stretching one leg in front of the other. It took a moment for Regan to notice me—with a double take.
I continued through the stretching exercises as if this were something I did on the regular.
Regan kept her eyes forward, but after about the fourth stretch, she turned to me with her hands on those hips. “What are you doing here?”
I lifted my hand, then stretched to the left. “Well, my best friend has been avoiding me,” I said, looking at her from my view, which had her almost upside down. “For a week, she’s been working from home, she won’t return my calls, and she only responds to my work-related texts.”
Regan shook her head.
I said, “So I really had to talk to her, and this seemed like the only way.” Mimicking the young woman in front of us, I put my hands on my hips and leaned back; I guessed this was a stretch for my core, but when I tried it, I lost it and tumbled backward until my butt hit the sand.
“Ouch!”
With another shake of her head, Regan extended her hand and pulled me up. “So, this was the best you could do?”
“If you were running, you had to talk to me.” I wiped the sand from my butt. “Kinda like having a captive audience.”
“But you don’t even run to the bathroom when you have to go bad.”
“I was willing to run today.” I did a little jog in place, stretched my neck to the left, then the right, did a couple of uppercut moves that made Regan frown—and I was ready to go.
“Really?” She threw up both of her hands and began to walk away from the running group.
“No, don’t leave.” I had to trot to keep up with her. “Let’s run.”
“You look like you’re preparing for a boxing match with a kindergartner,” she said.
So instead of running, I walked by her side. We strolled along the edge of the ocean, right where the sand greeted the waves. It wasn’t June, but still that Los Angeles gloom had settled over the beach, sure to burn away once the sun hung higher.
After minutes of silence, I said, “How did we get here?”
“I drove.”
I chuckled. “How did we get to the place where best friends don’t even talk to work an issue out?”
“I can’t even tell you.”
“I can’t remember us having a fight before,” I said.
She glanced at me but gave me no words.
I continued, “If I’d known you were going to be upset about this event with Justus, I would never have agreed to it.”
She stopped so suddenly that when I did the same, I stumbled.
“You just don’t get it.” When Regan said that, I remembered Mauricio saying the same thing to me about Justus. “It’s not the event. That’s a great idea, and I’m glad Keisha came up with it. The challenge is, you keep making these decisions without me. This is supposed to be our business, Gabby.”
“It is.” I couldn’t believe she was reacting this way over one thing.
“You haven’t been treating me that way. First, you brought Keisha in without discussing it.”
“I brought her in as my assistant. Why would I talk to you about that?”
“Because to this point, we’ve discussed everything. You interviewed Mattie before I hired her.”
“But Keisha’s my sister. I didn’t think you’d have a problem with that.”
“It’s still our business. And then, the major thing I do for Media Connections—you make a decision to have your sister handle it and handle it for our major client. Again, decision without me.”
She flopped down onto the sand, and I did, too. We hugged our knees to our chests and watched the ocean’s waves onrush the earth before the tide returned to the sea.
Regan said, “Now it’s my turn to ask, how did we get here?”
I shook my head. “It doesn’t make sense. Just like the arguments I’ve been having with Mauricio.”
She glanced at me through the corner of her eye. “More arguments?”
“We’re in a good place right now, but last weekend?” I shook my head. “It was ugly.”
“About Keisha?”
“No,” I said with a little edge. Why did Regan always take it back to her? “Again about Justus, and it’s getting more intense and more often.”
“You’re gonna have to do something.”
“But what? Short of closing Media Connections—and that’s not going to happen—I don’t know what to do.” I kicked up some sand. “I’ve calmed him down, but Mauricio has to understand what I do with Justus is all business. He’s gonna have to be an adult.”
Looking straight ahead, Regan said, “Is that what you want me to do about Keisha?”
“Our situation is different. If I’d seen this the way you do, then I would be begging for your forgiveness. But what I can do now is promise that I won’t decide what I’m having for lunch without you.”
“I’m not trying to be petty. I just wanted you to be aware.”
I nodded. “And you know what I want? I want life to go back to the way it was just a month ago. No fights with Mauricio, no fights with you, no fights with Bella and her tutu, no credit card companies calling about fraud, no new ideas from Keisha, no . . .”
“Wait,” Regan said. “What about your credit cards?”
I waved my hand. “Just regular stuff. Someone got ahold of one of my credit cards and charged up a storm. When they first called me it was only eighteen hundred dollars.”
“Wow.”
“But they ended up getting away with almost five thousand.” I shook my head. “I don’t know why folks do that.”
“Yeah,” she said, dragging out the word. “You know, I meant to tell you . . .” She stopped.
“What?”
Regan gave me a long look as if she was trying to figure out something. Finally, she said, “You k
now what? I’ll figure it out myself because I don’t want to be another burden, so”—Regan twisted her body to face me—“I accept your apology.”
I grinned. “I haven’t apologized yet.”
“But you were about to, right?”
“Yeah.” And then we leaned forward and hugged. “I’m really sorry, Regan.”
“I know. And I love you.”
“More.”
She stood first, then pulled me up and with our arms around each other’s shoulders, we plodded through the sand, making our way back to the parking lot. Sister-friends once again. Sister-friends for always.
36
Keisha
It had been thirteen days since Justus had given Media Connections the go-ahead. And because of me, Media Connections had pulled this off.
That was my thought as Mauricio turned off Crenshaw Boulevard and pulled in front of the valet stand, since street parking was limited in Leimert Park.
I’d never heard of this area, but Justus was insistent; he’d wanted his event in this predominately black community, which was sort of a cultural hub. I’d been here four times during our planning, and though it was a cute little area, it was so far from Bel-Air, and I wasn’t talking miles.
As the valet attendant trotted toward us, I slid out of the front seat, then opened the back door for Bella. She jumped down and into my arms.
“Thanks, Mama!”
I grinned, but then looked to the other side of the SUV, making sure Mauricio hadn’t heard her. Bella had started calling me Mama, even though I’d told her not to do it when we were out. So far, no one else had heard her, though I had an explanation ready if anyone did—I would say I’d been telling Bella stories of my mother, my mama.
As Mauricio gave the keys to the valet, my thoughts were on the day when Bella wouldn’t have to hide and she’d call me Mama everywhere, all the time.
When Mauricio came around to our side, Bella grabbed his hand, then mine, and walked between us.
As we entered the festival under the big banner: “Justus’s Family and His Friends,” I stopped so that Bella and I could take a selfie.
Mauricio said, “You’re excited, huh?”
“I am. I worked hard on this.”
“I know you did. That’s why I was surprised that you didn’t leave with Gabrielle earlier.”
I shook my head. “No, I wanted to hang out with Bella.”
“Yay!” she cheered, her answer for almost everything.
Then Bella’s attention turned to the festival in front of us. It was a street fair that had gone beyond a celebration for children. We had tons of stations set up to entertain kids and lots of information about Justus’s upcoming children’s books, but we also had tables set up for voter registration, colleges, and even a few banks were in the mix.
All of it sponsored by Justus. All of it planned by me.
“I wanna do that.” Bella pointed to the face-painting table.
I glanced at Mauricio, he grinned, and Bella skipped to the table.
Mauricio said, “I can take her if you have to find Gabrielle or do something else.”
“No, I told you. I really want to hang out with Bella. Gabrielle is taking care of Justus; my part is done.” I helped Bella climb into the chair, then stepped back, standing shoulder to shoulder with Mauricio. Bella kicked her heels up in anticipation, and Mauricio and I laughed.
As the artist leaned over Bella, Mauricio said, “I’m gonna check out what’s over there.” He pointed to the next table. “I’ll be right back.”
A moment after he stepped away, a woman with a head of hair that looked like fresh snow nudged me. “So cute. Is she your daughter?”
Without any kind of hesitation, I said, “Yes.”
Then the woman glanced at Mauricio. “And your husband?”
I gave her another nod.
She pressed her hands over her heart as if she were looking at the most precious picture. “You have a beautiful family.”
“Thank you.”
When she walked away, I sighed. This beautiful family picture belonged to Gabrielle, but there was no reason why it shouldn’t belong to me. Especially since if God hadn’t intervened, I would have a little girl just like Bella.
The thought of that took me to a place I didn’t want to go. But sometimes I didn’t have control, and so my mind wandered . . . back to that day . . . in 2011: the beginning and end of my beautiful family.
“Say cheese.”
With Buck’s arm around me, we said, “Cheese,” as I held Nzuri.
Mama clicked the camera, which one of her johns had given her last Christmas.
“Okay, my turn.” She handed the camera to Buck, positioned herself on the sofa, then said, “Three generations of Jones girls: me, my little girl, and my grandbaby.”
It was Buck’s turn to snap away. “Y’all look so pretty in all that pink.”
Mama beamed. She had saved money to buy these dresses so that we’d match in the photos. Today, Nzuri was four months old and we were taking her first pictures. Even Buck matched—almost. He said his red tie matched our faded red dresses ’cause real men didn’t wear pink.
“I’m so excited,” I said, holding Nzuri up when Buck took the last photo. Lifting her above my head, my baby giggled and wiggled in my arms.
She made me laugh out loud. Four months, but I felt like Nzuri had been in my life forever. My world was this little girl. Then I looked over at Buck and Mama trying to figure out something with the camera, and I changed my mind—my world was this little girl and Mama and Buck.
I loved Nzuri and Mama, and I really liked Buck, too. I saw him every day, and sometimes, his mama and daddy came to see the baby, though I wished his daddy would stay away. He looked at me the same way Mr. Stanley had.
I pushed his daddy and Mr. Stanley out of my mind and only thought about Buck. He had gotten that job at Walmart, but making not even five dollars an hour didn’t leave him with a whole bunch of time or money. Although any extra he had of both, he gave to me and Nzuri.
We were making it, though, especially since we didn’t need a babysitter—I’d never gone back to school. There was no reason since all I wanted to be now was Nzuri’s mama.
“Okay, let me get into this kitchen and get dinner started. You staying, Buck?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
Mama laughed, and I grinned. When had Buck ever said no?
Mama said, “I’ll have this ready in about an hour.”
“Uh . . . Mrs. Jones.” Mama paused right before she got to the kitchen. “Can you watch Nzuri? I want to take Keisha for a walk.”
“I don’t wanna go nowhere.” I never wanted to go out. And why would I when I could play with and take care of Nzuri all day?
But Mama said, “Good! That girl never leaves this house.” Looking at me, she said, “Go put Nzuri down. Look at her already asleep.”
This was the part about babies that was funny to me. One minute, Nzuri was laughing, and then she’d be sleeping.
“Come on,” Buck said. “Let’s go. Just for a little while.”
It was hard to say no to Buck since he never asked me for anything, he just gave me everything. So I took Nzuri to the bedroom and laid her in the crib, which was still right by my bed because even at night, I didn’t want to be too far away.
Leaning over the rail, I kissed her pudgy cheek. She was still as yellow as a banana, but she was my baby. I never thought about her daddy because nobody ever asked me about Mr. Stanley. Not even Mama. I guessed once Nzuri was here, it didn’t matter.
Looking down at her, I sighed. She was a miracle that had been in my belly when I was fifteen, and she’d come out—so perfect—when I was sixteen.
“I’m going to give you everything, Nzuri,” I said. “Everything, even my life.” I stroked her blond hair. “I will always take care of you.”
It still took me a couple of minutes to break away, but finally, I went back into the living room.
Mama sa
id, “So where y’all going all dressed up?”
“We just gonna go for a walk. To the park. We’ll be right back.”
“Glad you dragging her out of here.”
Buck and Mama laughed. I didn’t. I wanted to run back into the bedroom and give Nzuri another kiss. But the way Buck held my hand, I knew he’d never let me do it.
Once we were outside, the air did feel good. We strolled up the street not saying a word, just holding hands. The park was about seven blocks from my house, and when we got there, I sat on one of the two swings and Buck stood behind me.
“See?” He pushed me into the air. “Aren’t you glad you got out?”
I nodded. The April breeze cooled my skin, and I closed my eyes, imagining that I could fly.
He said, “I can’t wait for Nzuri to get bigger so I can bring her here.”
I laughed because I could see her doing the same thing, flying high on this swing, then running in the grass. “She’s gonna love this. She’s such a happy baby.”
“She don’t have no reason not to be happy,” Buck said, pushing me even higher. “We take care of everything for her.”
“That’s true.” I laughed with him.
Thinking about Buck out here with Nzuri made me a little serious. “Buck?”
“Yeah?”
I waited a couple of seconds. “Why’d you do it?” I asked the question that had been on my mind, but I’d never asked before.
I didn’t even have to explain—he knew what I meant. I could tell by the way he halted the swing; then he sat on the other one, his eyes away from me.
After a while, he just shrugged. “Why not?”
“But you’re not her daddy.”
“Nobody knows that.”
I leaned back in the swing and gave him a side-eye. “Everybody knows that. Half the people don’t think I’m her mama, she’s so white.”
He laughed, but then got serious again. He kicked up some dirt. “I don’t know. When I saw you in Walmart, I just felt like”—his eyes rose up—“I wanted to take care of you.” He stood up from the swing. “Then after I’d been around for a while, I wanted to do it all the time. Now we have Nzuri. Now I love you. I love both of you.”
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