Just Say The Word

by Tiffany Patterson

  ****

  Damon

  “He sounds like he’s trying to sell you a bag of dreams,” Sean stated coming up behind me as I stared at my phone. I was still caught off-guard by how quickly Sandra had ended the phone conversation. She didn’t say it but, in my gut, something felt off with her.

  Pushing those thoughts out of my mind for the moment, I turned and glanced up at Sean. We were still in the boardroom of my office, having just completed a meeting with members from the city council. I was yet again making a play for the abandoned brick building that was in the Lakefront section of Williamsport. Business and professional matters weren’t the only reasons why I was so interested in this particular venture.

  “Russo Sr. already lost his bid for the building.”

  I nodded, already knowing that information. “Jr. comes in real handy,” I commented. Since that night at the Underground, I’d been working with Mike Russo Jr. to take out Russo Sr. in more ways than one. Turns out, Sr. wasn’t just a murderer and drug dealer but a shitty father as well. The guy I had on the inside of Russo Sr.’s business had passed Jr. some private files that shed light on the inner workings of his business. As far as I knew, Sr. was being heavily investigated by the FBI and this file was one more nail in his coffin. He might not go to jail for my father’s murder but he’d be put in a cell someday soon, and I already had a few of my old connects waiting for him once he was.

  “His business is drying up,” Sean added.

  I didn’t say anything.

  “You sure about working with the feds?” my cousin questioned.

  It was a question I’d asked myself, more than once. I wasn’t exactly keen on the idea of getting into bed with the feds, but then again, I wasn’t the one working directly with them, either. Russo Jr. was. He really was on the straight and narrow, as far as I could tell. His one venture somewhat outside of the law or proper society was joining the Underground. He’d rebelled against everything his father had tried to raise him to be.

  “It’s cool. Jr. has gotten what he needs. Russo should be arrested soon, and when he is, I’ll pay him a little visit.”

  Sean lifted an eyebrow at me.

  “He won’t die by my hands but he won’t live much longer either. I’m good with that,” I told Sean.

  “You sure?”

  I nodded slowly, running my hand through my beard. “I’m sure. I’m ready for this shit to be over.”

  “For what it’s worth, I’m glad I didn’t need to convince you not to take him out yourself.”

  I glanced over at my cousin. He’d never been involved in the drug game with me. He’d hated that life. Apparently, that was one of the reasons his mother had chosen to pick their family up and move to the West Coast. To ensure her son wasn’t raised in that life. Being older and thinking about my own future, I could understand that. I’d be shot dead before one of my kids ever ended up working on the streets.

  “Kids?”

  Shit.

  I glanced up, realizing I’d said my thoughts out loud.

  “She’s got you thinking about kids, huh?”

  I rolled my eyes. “Mind your damn business, man.”

  “You are my business, fool,” he chuckled.

  I laughed, too. “Whatever, I need to head out.”

  “Me too.”

  We slapped fives and parted ways. I watched Sean as he exited the conference room. A few minutes later, I shut the light off in my own office.

  “Charlotte, I’m heading out.” My sister looked up from whatever she’d been typing on her computer.

  “Okay. You’re still coming over to Mama’s for dinner this weekend, right?”

  I side-eyed my sister. “When did I ever agree to that?”

  She frowned at me. “See, Damon.” She shook her head. “Mama hasn’t seen you in a month of Sundays. And neither one of us has met this woman you’re seeing. What’s her name, Sondra?”

  “Sandra,” I corrected sternly.

  She lifted a perfectly arched eyebrow. “See. Just that tone alone tells me its serious and we haven’t met her. Last time I knew anything you were dating a woman named Scarlet or something.”

  “Scarlet’s old news and she was never my girlfriend.” I refused to go into detail to my little sister that Scarlet had been one of a few women I was dating. While Sandra … there was no one else. She was it.

  “See? I didn’t know that.”

  “You didn’t need to know all of that. You don’t tell me who you’re seeing.”

  “That’s because I’m not seeing anyone. I’m taking time out for me,” she answered with her head raised high as if trying to prove something to herself.

  I lifted an eyebrow wondering what was going on there. However, I shrugged it off and picked up the stack of office mail that was sitting in the basket she kept it in. I began thumbing through the envelopes. “The one time she came to the office, you happened to have called in sick that day.” I frowned at her. I swear, if it wasn’t low work ethic, my sister wouldn’t have a work ethic at all. That was probably my damn fault. I’d spoiled her as a kid. I wanted to give her all of the things my father would’ve given her.

  “Well, I won’t be sick this Saturday. Mama wants to see you. Dinner with all of us would be perfect.”

  I gave her a look.

  “I’m serious, Damon. Bring her.”

  “She has a ten-year-old daughter.”

  “Bring her, too,” she quickly added.

  I rubbed my lips together while running my hand through my beard. “I’ll think about it and let you know.”

  “Today’s Wednesday.”

  “I know what damn day of the week it is.”

  Charlotte held up her hands. “Just making sure. You only have a few days to decide.”

  “Whatever, sis. I’m heading out.”

  I glanced at my watch. It was just after five o’clock. I had a business dinner that night at seven but decided I needed to make a stop before heading to the restaurant. I tucked the gift-wrapped box I’d taken from my desk inside my briefcase.

  I hadn’t planned on stopping by to see Sandra that night but when I thought back to the tone she’d used while we were on the phone, an urge to lay eyes on her and make sure she was okay overtook me.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Damon

  “Hi,” she greeted, smiling but looking surprised to see me as she opened the door.

  “Hey.”

  “Hi, Mr. Damon!” Monique stated excitedly from behind her mother, before pushing past her legs and rushing me, throwing her arms around my waist. I look down at the little girl hugging me, and without even realizing I had, my arms had surrounded her, hugging her back with the same energy she was giving me. I looked up at Sandra whose gaze was pinned on the both of us. Something stirred in her eyes.

  “You want to watch Netflix with us?”

  I grinned down at Monique. “Having a Netflix and chill night, huh?” I noticed the cream-colored silk pajama shorts and top Sandra wore that matched the same long sleeve and pants pajamas Monique had on.

  Sandra shrugged.

  “If this is a bad time I can—”

  “No, come in,” Sandra stated, stepping back making room for me to enter.

  “I’ll go grab Mr. Damon some popcorn,” Monique said before rushing off in the direction of the kitchen.

  “I know it’s not always cool to drop in on people unexpected like this, but—”

  “You were in the area?” She smiled up at me, questioning.

  I shook my head. “Nah, I wasn’t. But I needed to see you,” I answered honestly because I did. Reaching out, I cupped her cheek, stroking it with my thumb. “I didn’t like the way you sounded on the phone earlier.”

  She sighed and her eyelids floated closed as she nuzzled her cheek against my palm. My arms went around her body as she stepped closer. She wrapped her arms around my waist, pulling me in tighter, and laid her head on my chest. She was holding on for something more than just gratefulne
ss to see me. It was strength she needed. Strength for what, I didn’t know, but I was bound and determined to find out.

  “Here, Mr. Damon. Mommy got us caramel corn. I can’t eat too much but that’s okay because I like sharing,” Monique insisted, getting in the middle of Sandra and I to hand me a bowl of the caramel corn. I didn’t have the heart to tell her I was supposed to have dinner elsewhere in an hour. Which was why—as she led me by the hand to the living room couch, directly across from the television where they’d been watching a new Netflix show—I pulled out my cell phone. I scrolled through my contacts and sent Sean a text asking if he’d be up for going to the dinner meeting in my stead.

  Within a few minutes he responded that he would. And I set my phone down on the coffee table, face down, ready to watch whatever the hell it was they’d been watching.

  Monique tucked herself into my right side, underneath my arm, while I drew Sandra into my left. She laid her head against my shoulder and hit the play button, taking the freeze frame off the screen.

  I frowned, not familiar with the show. “What is this?”

  “It’s called Tidying Up,” Monique answered, her eyes planted on the flat screen that was mounted on the wall.

  Sandra glanced up at me, obviously taking in that I still had no idea what the hell this show was or was about. “Marie Kondo is an expert in decluttering and helping people organize their spaces. She developed a unique approach to helping others figure out what belongs in their life and what doesn’t. Sounds simple but it’s compelling to watch.”

  I lowered my head and brushed my lips against hers. I didn’t give a damn about watching people get rid of their shit, but she looked taken in by it, so whatever. I had no problem watching.

  We spent the next hour and a half just like that, on the couch. When seven o’clock rolled round, I ended up ordering from a nearby Thai restaurant because the idea of moving from the couch to do anything more than retrieve food from a delivery guy didn’t sit well with any of us.

  After dinner, we watched another episode before Sandra finally put an end to the binge watching and made Monique brush her teeth and start getting ready for bed. Reluctantly, I got up to leave, but Sandra took ahold of my wrist, silently asking me to stay. Again, the look in her eye told me something was up with her.

  I nodded in agreement, which was how some twenty minutes later, I found myself perched on my knee at the side of Monique’s bed while Sandra sat on the other side, reading her a story.

  “Thanks for doing that with us. I keep thinking today’s the day she’s finally had enough of me reading to her at night. But I’m always pleasantly surprised when she insists on reading before bed. I know it’ll end one day,” Sandra stated forlornly, as she glanced back at Monique’s now closed bedroom door.

  “She’ll outgrow it, but she’ll never forget it,” I responded, looking at Monique’s door as well. I remembered every time my father took time out of his busy schedule to do stuff with just me. He might not have gone the legal route in terms of career, but he always wanted more for Charlotte and I. As a result, he had us involved in tons of activities and he made sure he showed up for them all.

  Sandra smiled up at me. We moved up the hall into the living room. It was around eight-thirty.

  “Hey, I know I said I’d give this to you tomorrow when we went out, but since I’ve got it now …” I reached for the briefcase I’d placed on the floor by the door when I first enter and pulled out the gift-wrapped box.

  Sandra looked from me to the box and up at me again.

  “It’s not going to open itself.”

  She smiled. “Why are you getting me a gift?” she asked, taking it from me.

  “Because I want to. Open it.”

  She took one last look at me before slowly removing the top from the box. She gasped once she got a glimpse of the rose gold timepiece with floating diamonds in the face.

  “What’s this?” she asked through trembling lips.

  “It’s our second mockup.” I took the watch from the box, fully holding it up for her to see before I moved it to wrap around her wrist. “I knew it would look amazing on you,” I stated, holding her arm with the watch up.

  “Damon, it’s gorgeous.”

  “Nah, it’s just a watch.” I moved my gaze from the watch to her eyes. “But on your arm it comes alive.” I lowered my lips to hers, cupping her face and kissing her deeply. She stepped closer, wrapping her arms around me, and I ran my tongue along her bottom lip, causing a shudder to move throughout her body. When I felt that pulsating in my groin begin to happen, I took a step back.

  “I should go.”

  Sandra’s eyes widened. “No. Stay,” she requested.

  I gave her a look. “I can’t sleep in your bed.” I couldn’t stay in her bed and not have my hands all over her. And with her bedroom right next to her daughter’s room … it didn’t feel right.

  Her eyes wandered over to the couch we’d just been sitting on watching television. “You can stay for a few hours longer. If you want,” she quickly added.

  If I wanted? I don’t know when it happened but damn near overnight wherever she was is where I wanted to be.

  I nodded and took her by the hand, leading her to the couch. I kicked my shoes off and stretched out, feeling grateful that the couch was long enough for my six-foot-three length. Sandra laid down, half on top of me and half next to me. It was a tight fight, but when I wrapped my arm around her it felt right.

  “What are you doing Saturday?”

  She lifted her head to look down at me. “What am I doing every Saturday? Either spending it with you or with Monique,” she giggled.

  “How about you spend it with the both of us?”

  She raised her eyebrows, questioningly.

  “And with my mom and sister.”

  “You want me to meet your family?”

  I nodded. “Why not? I’ve met yours.”

  “I know but that’s different.”

  “How?”

  She shrugged awkwardly due to the position she was laying in. “Because it was just me and Monique for so long. She was my entire family. And, well, my grandmother just came back into my life but that’s it.”

  “My mom and sister are my only family, too. Well, them and Sean, but you’ve met him.”

  She’d met Sean two weeks earlier when we double dated with a woman he was seeing.

  She pursed her lips, thinking about it. “Okay. Wait, you said me and Monique?”

  “Yeah. If you’re okay with it, I’d like to bring you both to dinner at my mother’s.” I ignored the wave of hesitation that question caused me. Hell, I didn’t even spend a great deal of time with my own mother. But now I wanted Sandra to meet her. Truthfully, in the back of my mind, I wanted Sandra to see what she was getting into with me. I may not be all that close with my mom but she was my family and I’d provide and take care of her until the day she left this earth. That’s the only way I knew how to take care of the people I loved.

  “We’ll go,” she finally agreed.

  I laid my head back against the couch pillow, feeling thoroughly satisfied with her answer.

  “Thanks for staying with me tonight.”

  I opened my eyes to find her staring up at me, her chin resting on my chest. And there was that look again. The look that had me wanting to declare to the whole damn world that this woman and her child were off limits to fuck with.

  Reaching up, I brushed one of her stray curls out of her face. “You know you can tell me anything, right?”

  She folded in her lips, rubbing together as if thinking over something. “I know. It was a rough day at work. Listening to the women speak about what they endured while just trying to earn a living.” She laid her head back on my chest.

  My hand continued to stroke her hair. Perhaps that was the truth. Maybe it got to her to hear instance after instance of women being harassed at work. Especially, when, from what she’d told me, she’d experienced something similar.
<
br />   That may have been the truth.

  Or, she was just holding something back that she didn’t want to tell me.

  We laid in silence, watching some random shows on Netflix for a while longer until we both fell asleep.

  ****

  “Hey, Ma,” I greeted as she opened the door.

  My mother’s eyes widened as they always did when I showed up at her door, as if she was completely thrown off by seeing me. Even when I’d spoken with her to let her know I’d be over. Her light brown eyes traveled from me, to the woman next to me, and then down to the little woman in front of me.

  “Ma, this is Sandra and her daughter, Monique,” I introduced.

  “Hi, Mrs. Richmond,” Sandra greeted, holding out her hand.

  “Hi, Mrs. Richmond. Are you really Mr. Damon’s mommy?” Monique asked.

  I chuckled and lowered to Monique. “Short stuff, I already told you we were meeting my mother.”

  “I know but I just wanted to make sure. You don’t look alike. Everyone says me and my mommy look alike.”

  “Monique,” Sandra called, slightly embarrassed.

  My head popped up when I heard the unfamiliar sounds of laughter. My eyes widened when I saw a genuine smile on my mother’s face as she laughed.

  “You are too cute. Come in, come in.” My mother waved us inside as she moved to the side.

  “We brought some homemade banana pudding. Damon said it was your favorite.” Sandra held up the glass bowl she’d meticulously layered the pudding in with Vanilla Wafers and slices of banana.

  “As long as you used Vanilla Wafers it’s my favorite.”

  Sandra giggled. “I’d never even think to use anything else.”

  My mother laughed again, and I found myself speechless. I could maybe count on one hand the number of times I’d seen my mother laugh or crack a genuine smile within the last ten years.