Thicker Than Water

by Takerra, Allen

  “Yeah, well let’s just hope she has my personality.”

  He chuckled lightly even though he knew she didn’t mean it as a joke. The other inmates looked at Sasha, careful not to let Chauncey see, but were all thinking the same thing. Damn that nigga lucky.

  “So you came all the way up here to see me?” he asked, still trying to rekindle their burnt-out romance as always.

  “Yeah, and to pick up my dress,” she mumbled, she was still intimidated by his reactions even though they were no longer together.

  He looked puzzled.

  “You came all the way up here to get a dress?” he asked laughing, realizing that his Sasha still hadn’t changed.

  She swallowed hard. “My wedding dress, Chauncey, I had it made.”

  She had changed. Chauncey looked at her left hand and fourth finger and noticed that where his huge rock once lay was a little band with a diamond chip on it. He smirked trying to mask his hurt.

  “Aw shit, I didn’t even notice your little ring.”

  He made sure to put heavy emphasis on little.

  “Why would you?” she shot back. “You never notice anything but yourself anyway.”

  Her words cut him deep, but he maintained composure. If there was one thing that jail had taught him, it was to separate himself from the outside world and to cut off emotion; if he didn’t he would go crazy. The visit continued mostly with Chauncey asking her questions that she didn’t answer. Before the alarm sounded, he tried his luck again.

  “Who’s the guy?”

  “Why?” she asked, already needing to go. Seeing him brought back emotions that she was sure were long gone.

  “Just answer me, Sash. You don’t think I got the right to know who the fuck my daughter is gonna be living with?”

  She looked at him and rolled her eyes.

  “Mike,” she said softly.

  Chauncey chewed on the inside of his cheek as the alarm sounded. The guard urged him to hang up as they held eye contact. He got up and mouthed one last question to Sasha, and although she couldn’t hear him, she knew exactly what it was. You still love me? She looked at him and realized she always would and she nodded and mouthed back Yes. That was all he needed to keep his hope alive as he walked through those heavy doors and out of her sight.

  Chanel and Tangee sat playing with little Aubrey as Sasha finished up the letter. Tatum had watched Sasha’s face turn bright red and she even watched her cry and it took a full hour to calm her down. Afterward they sat in silence on Tatum’s couch.

  Sasha had told Tatum all about the visit with Chauncey but had skipped the part where she cried for twenty minutes in her car after she left him. The truth was that she didn’t love Mike the way she loved Chauncey, she wasn’t sure if she loved Mike at all. But she was sure that the love she had for Chauncey wasn’t safe, and with a child to look after, she needed safety and security. Tatum told Sasha in return about the postcard but hadn’t asked for her opinion yet.

  “So Sash, are we still doing the big three-day wedding like you were gonna do before?”

  When Sasha was going to marry Chauncey she was going to do everything big, but now she wanted the opposite, because her feelings for Mike were the opposite.

  “No, no it’s going to be small. Right in a little church in Atlanta, nothing fancy.”

  She had asked Tatum to be her maid of honor, and Tatum agreed but for some reason there wasn’t the same excitement as when she had asked her last year. Sasha could see something was bothering Tatum and although the letter had them both shaken up, she had a feeling that it was something else.

  “Tatum, what are you up here for? Your brother’s gone, you don’t go to school anymore, you hate your job, you have the girls, you need to leave.”

  Tatum laughed. “Sash, I am not moving to Atlanta, it’s out of the question.”

  Sasha took another sip of her wine and pursed her lips before answering. “I’m not talking about Atlanta.”

  They held eye contact and both looked at each other for what seemed like an eternity and neither said anything.

  Tatum had contemplated over the course of the evening packing up and going to the resort. She played over and over how it would be to see him, to touch him. There was no doubt that Tatum wanted to grow old with Ree, she wasn’t interested in even holding a conversation with anyone else. But would he still feel the same way about her?

  “What am I supposed to do, Sasha? Fly down to Jamaica and live happily ever after, no money, no backup plan, no reassurance that he will even want me there? It’s been a year.” Tatum made excuses, but Sasha protested.

  “He still is thinking of you. He wouldn’t have sent that.”

  Tatum just looked at her as she let her imagination run for a minute but then snapped back into reality. “Please, Sash. Shit like that just doesn’t happen in real life. This isn’t the movies.”

  She picked up her glass and finished her wine, trying to force away these ridiculous ideas she was considering.

  “No, Tatum you’re wrong. It is a movie. You just have to decide what part you want to play, and how you want yours to end . . . That’s what I did.”

  Tatum looked at her friend who she had always given advice to, her friend who always needed the answers, and she realized that Sasha was right. Everything they had been through, the love, the lies, the death, the pain, the betrayal, it had all led to this moment. Their lives were changed, their hearts had been broken, their friendship had been shaken but not shattered, and in the end it was them, they had survived. And here Sasha was, telling her that she still had the power to take control of her own destiny, to determine her “movie,” so to speak.

  Although she had no control over the circumstances that had created her movie, Sasha was right, she had altered her finale. She had made the decision to settle down with a straight guy, who loved her and her daughter, and was free of the drama that Sasha had seen enough of. She had created that happy ending, or as close to one as she could get.

  Tatum smiled at her best friend, and at that moment she decided that she, too, would determine how hers ended. Fuck it. The curtain was up, Act II was in play, and this time, in this flick called Tatum’s life, she was in the director’s chair. Lights, Camera, Action!

  Don’t miss the exciting second book in the

  Thicker Than Water series,

  Still Thicker Than Water

  On sale in June 2015!

  Chapter 1

  Life

  There was something about today that made Sasha sick to her stomach.

  Boom! Boom! Boom!

  “Let’s go, Sasha!”

  Sasha took a deep breath, straightened her back, and went to unlock the bathroom stall door.

  I can do this. And then it happened again, a sudden rush of vomit raced from her stomach to her mouth as she turned abruptly and exploded it into the toilet.

  Boom! Boom! Boom!

  “Sasha, let me in! You know, you are getting married in exactly three minutes, bitch!” That was her annoying, country-ass cousin Cecile.

  “Go away, Cecile,” Sasha mumbled, as she gripped the porcelain seat in the Buckhead Baptist Church.

  “Move out of the way.” Terri rudely pushed past the group of family members who surrounded Sasha’s hideaway stall. She began knocking firmly on the stall herself. “Sasha. Sasha, let me in.”

  When she received no response, she continued in true Terri fashion.

  “Sasha, let me in this instant. It’s your mother.”

  Like I don’t know who she is.

  “Sasha. Sasha,” Terri repeated in a hushed voice.

  Sasha unrolled the two-ply toilet paper and wiped the chunks from her lips as she made a comfortable seat on the stall floor. She could care less about the $8,000 Vera Wang dress that adorned her gorgeous body. She cradled her head in her hands, not paying any mind to her flawless makeup that accentuated her flawless face. She could care less about her hair, this wedding, this day, this man, this life.

&n
bsp; Why?

  Ever since the surreal events that occurred two summers ago, Sasha often found herself asking that question. Why did her life take such an abrupt turn?

  Why did Kim have to die? Why did Neli have to ruin everything? And most of all, why did he have to break her heart?

  Tears lined her face as she thought of Chauncey, the love of her life, the only man who she was sure would ever hold her heart, and the man who had cheated with one of her used-to-be best friends. I guess Neli really did get the last laugh, huh? Chauncey and I are done, just like she wanted. My friends are gone, Kim is dead, Tatum is far away, my world is crumbled . . . hope the bitch rots in the nuthouse.

  Sasha could hear heels clicking toward her door and was sure it was someone else trying to convince her to emerge from the toilet, be a woman, take the shit on the chin, and walk down the aisle. But the girl in her just couldn’t bring herself to stand up and face the reality.

  “Sasha,” a sweet voice beckoned. Sasha looked down at the voice’s feet and studied the Zanotti sandals that she had recently herself purchased. Hmm.

  “Sash, it’s me . . . Tatum.”

  Sasha’s ears perked at the delayed recognition of her best friend’s voice. Tatum made it.

  “Open the door, girl.”

  Sasha didn’t want to face the others, she could still see her mother’s Prada heels and other less glamorous feet scattered around the door. She did however want to see Tatum, her girl, her best friend who had weathered the awful storm with her and still managed to remain by her side. She slowly unlatched the door and before anyone could get a word out, she pulled Tatum inside and closed it back.

  Tatum chuckled, mouth opened, at Sasha’s dramatic behavior but then embraced her fully in a long, warm hug.

  “Ahh mama, I missed youuuu!” she squealed.

  Sasha squeezed back harder and laughed, thrilled to see her partner in crime.

  “Black bitch, how you been?” Sasha joked, still embracing her, and using the nickname they had used as girls. Sasha was the brown bitch, Kim used to be the yellow bitch, and Neli, formerly known as the white bitch, was now just the crazy bitch.

  “I’m good, but what’s up with you, girl, locked in the stall like a little ass kid . . . Getting cold feet?”

  Tatum had a feeling what was wrong with Sasha, but was confused as to how she had come this far, but was just now debating not following through.

  “I don’t know, Tay . . . I don’t know,” Sasha answered truthfully, really not knowing. Tatum studied her friend with a look of uncertainty and brushed away the hair from Sasha’s face with her left hand. She realized how beautiful she looked.

  Her hair had grown out and was down in pretty curls, with a diamond tiara atop her head. Her skin was perfection, and she had put on a little weight in her butt and thigh area, Atlanta was doing her physically well. But how was it mentally affecting her?

  “Sasha, you know I know you better than anyone, and if you’re not feeling it—” Tatum was cut off by Terri from outside the stall.

  “If you don’t want to do it, sweetie, we can call the whole thing off . . . Just let me know now so I can cancel the band for the reception.”

  “Ma!” Sasha screamed, irritated that her mother had been eavesdropping on their conversation the whole time. Although her mother was ridiculously annoying in her prying, she did have a point, and was never shy about voicing it. Terri was no fan of Mike, and although Chauncey had brought more pain than pleasure, Terri was still on his team, cheering on the sidelines, and hoping that one day he and Sasha would be reunited.

  Sasha leaned her head back and stared up at the ceiling, wondering what was holding her back. Mike was a good guy; he worked his way through medical school, was now a doctor, catered to Sasha head to foot, and took her and Chauncey’s daughter, Aubrey, in as his own. Who wouldn’t want to marry him? Me.

  Tatum was still looking at Sasha with that look. That look that said, Just let me know what you wanna do.

  Sasha knew Tatum was with her no matter what.

  What am I thinking? Pass up on Mike, for what? For Chauncey? The man who’s in jail, the man who I don’t even know if I can trust? The man who clearly has no plans on leaving the street life alone anytime soon? No, no way. I have to be smarter than that. I have a little girl to think about. Hell no!

  “No, no, I’m fine. I’m doing it . . . Ma, you hear me, I’m doing it. So hang up the phone,” she barked.

  “I . . . I am not on the phone,” Terri defensively answered, but then whispered into her cell, “Cancel that, wedding’s back on.”

  Sasha rolled her eyes at her mother’s assumption, and then took a deep breath and looked at Tatum with a smile.

  “See, I’m fine. I just needed a moment . . . and I needed you,” Sasha admitted, glad that her best friend was now there to hold her hand. Tatum looked at her with doubt.

  “You sure?”

  Sasha nodded vigorously.

  “Yeah, yeah. Absolutely.” She fingered her curls and adjusted her gown, and then she opened the bathroom door with true Sasha confidence. “Okay, let’s go! Cecile, go tell the organist we’re starting . . . Ma, go get Daddy . . . Tatum . . .” She looked at Tatum. “Hold my hand.”

  She rushed to the mirror and rinsed out her mouth, and then made sure her makeup was on point as a couple of people adjusted her gown. Then she turned around and faced the girls.

  “Okay, now let’s go get me married.”

  The melody of sweet violins began to play, as Sasha’s one-year-old daughter, Aubrey, walked down the aisle assisted by an older cousin. They were the flower girls. Following them was the ring bearer, a little boy from Mike’s family, and then the first bridesmaid, who was Sasha’s old friend Jayde.

  Next was Sasha’s cousin Cecile, another bridesmaid, by her mother’s choice. And last was Mike’s best man, with Sasha’s maid of honor, Tatum. Sasha heard the music change to the traditional bridal march, and her heart fluttered. Her father remained completely silent, but held a firm grip on her arm. Thank God, because I don’t think I can stand on my own.

  Sasha thought of the irony of her reflection, this was the very reason why she was getting married; she didn’t think that she could stand on her own.

  “You ready, baby?” her father asked her, but Sasha couldn’t answer. She just looked at him with a smile as the doors opened wide.

  The crowd stood at attention and focused on Sasha and her father as they began to slowly make their way down the aisle. Sasha held a plastered smile and studied the happy faces, everyone grinning and snapping pictures. She felt like she was walking to her execution and she was hoping that her emotions weren’t showing on her face. Halfway down the aisle, she felt as if she should finally look at Mike. Maybe something that wasn’t there would suddenly exist in her when she saw his face. Maybe she could will herself to want him, need him, love him. The sad realization came about when she looked into his eyes and felt the need to run in the opposite direction.

  He was looking at her with so much love, so much pride, so much adoration. The thought of her marrying him and depriving him of true requited love caused tears to form in her eyes, which people mistook for an overwhelming rush of emotion.

  As she reached the altar, a sweat broke on her brow and she took a deep breath, hoping that she didn’t have a repeat of the bathroom stall.

  “Who gives this woman away?”

  Don’t, Daddy, don’t say it.

  “I do.”

  Her father and Mike exchanged Sasha with ease, as if she were money, and Sasha wondered why this was so easy for everyone else.

  “Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today . . .”

  Okay, okay, I can do this. Look at him, he’s good-looking. . . I mean, he is a little corny, and why the hell is his tie so tight? No, no . . . he’s not corny, he’s safe. Safe, reliable, gives me no trouble ... Wait, what am I marrying, a man or a car? Oh God, Sasha, stop it! Take his hands. Are they telling us to hold hands . . . ? I thi
nk so. He’s reaching for my hands. There, everyone is smiling, I must be doing the right thing. Why are his hands so clammy ? . . . Look at him, he loves me. Look how happy he is. Concentrate, Sasha, Concentrate . . .

  “Marriage is the union of husband and wife in heart, body, and mind. It is intended for their mutual joy . . .” The pastor’s voice subsided to a whisper, and then ceased.

  What happened? Sasha wondered. Is it over, am I supposed to say something now?

  She looked to Mike for some reassurance but was confused as to why he was not looking at her. Instead he, like everyone else, was focused on the aisle. Sasha turned, as if in slow motion, and swore that the breath left her body.

  “Oh my God,” she whispered.

  Her heart raced, her head was light, and she had to reach out and hold on to the pastor’s shoulder for support. It was him, and just like always, he commanded everyone’s attention.

  He was dressed in true street fashion, crisp jeans, fresh Air Forces, blinding jewelry, head full of waves, chocolate skin glowing, confident smile. He stood in the center of the aisle as if he belonged there and as everyone stared at him, he focused on Sasha.

  “I tried to wait until the if anyone objects shit, but I figured I wouldn’t waste any more of your time . . . let’s go, kid.”

  Sasha held his gaze with tears in her eyes and was stunned into silence. She hesitantly looked away at Mike and could see the rage radiating off him. She looked back to Chauncey, who now held out his hand for her, as everyone studied Sasha wondering how she would handle the situation.

  “Daddy!” Aubrey exclaimed, rushing up to him.

  He picked her up and kissed her face lovingly and then looked back to Sasha.

  “Come on, princess, come on home. I got you . . . I’ll never hurt you again.”

  “You sure?” The question escaped Sasha’s lips before she even realized that she was talking.

  “My word . . . I love you,” he affectionately admitted.

  “I love you, too.”