Between Friends

by D. L. Sparks

  I cocked my head and leaned in a little closer, because now I had an attitude. “Excuse me?”

  “There ain’t hardly any liquor in this. I ain’t paying seven dollars for a glass of flavored water.”

  The guys she was with laughed, but the other lone female tried to get her to chill out. “It ain’t that serious, Princess, dang. Why you always gotta try to get loud?”

  Princess? Seriously? This weaved-up bitch’s name was Princess. It took all I had in me to maintain my owner persona, because I really wanted to cuss her out and toss the drink I was holding in her face.

  “You want something else?” I asked.

  “No, I want the drink I asked for,” she snapped, rolling her big fish eyes.

  I stopped and glared at her for a second. “I’ll send a waitress over with a new drink.” I took the glass and headed back toward the bar.

  I slammed the glass down on the counter. “Dionne, I need another Cotton Candy martini, heavy on the liquor, please, and this time make sure Marissa does her damn job and takes it over there.”

  Dionne took the glass and dumped its contents and started mixing another one. “What they say?” she asked.

  I just shook my head. “Don’t ask.” I looked around. “Have you seen Lincoln? He was just standing here.”

  She nodded toward the back. “He headed back toward your office a few minutes ago.”

  Dionne’s milk chocolate skin was glowing with perspiration under the lighting of the bar. Her short naturally curly haircut fit her face perfectly. He sweat caused some of the short wispy curls to hug her hairline. She was short and put together, but she wasn’t one to be messed with either. I learned that from running around with her in college. We were always up in somebody’s dorm, cussing out a chick for one reason or another. Usually, it was over a rumor that had made its way back to her. Dionne was into women, had been since high school, so it was never over a man; but the relationships she was in and out of with women seemed to cause just as many problems as a heterosexual relationship.

  I turned to make my way to the back when I was stopped in my tracks by a slurred, gravelly voice.

  “Hey, Miss Idalis! What I gotta do to get a dance?”

  I smiled at Mr. Lewis as I walked by. I scanned his appearance. His salt-and-pepper hair, scruffy beard, and crooked smile were endearing. His wife passed, over a year ago, from cancer, I think, and that’s when he started coming here. I think it was more for company than for anything else. He was a sweet man in his mid to late sixties, and he was always trying to convince me to dance with him.

  I winked at him. “I told you, I can’t dance with you until you’re ready to marry me and take me away.”

  He smiled a big grin, revealing missing teeth. “Okay, now, I’ll get the ring. You just better be ready.”

  “I promise I will be.”

  “Here you go.” He handed me a twenty-dollar bill.

  We’d had this ritual for months now. I had accepted the fact that my short, flirtatious conversation was the equivalent of a lap dance for him.

  He didn’t get a lot of attention from the waitresses, mainly because he was older and didn’t have the best hygiene. The first few times I turned down his money, but then he confided that it offended him and that I should take it as a compliment—so began our weekly exchange.

  “Thank you, Mr. Lewis,” I said, shoving the bill in the back pocket of my jeans.

  Our little conversation didn’t stop my momentum. I wanted to know what had drawn and, more importantly, what was keeping Lincoln in the back for so long.

  Before I pushed the door to my small office open, I stopped and tried to hear over the music what was being said. I couldn’t make out much, but I heard Lincoln’s voice and he was angry. I could only make out him asking if someone was “sure” about something.

  When I finally pushed the door open, Lincoln was leaning against my messy desk in the middle of the room. There were papers all over my desk, because it was coming up on the end of the month, and it was almost time to balance the books. There were packages of supplies, which I hadn’t opened yet, stacked up throughout the dusty office.

  That’s when it hit me.

  Nate was the dude I’d seen at the gym.

  Nate shot me a grin that made my skin crawl. “Hey, girl. What’s up?”

  “Hey, Nate,” I answered back.

  Linc looked up from his phone. He was agitated. “What you need, Idalis?”

  “I was just wondering where you disappeared to—”

  He cut me off. “I’ll be out in a second.”

  I stood there for a moment, not sure of what was going on.

  He looked up at me. “Idalis, gimme a few minutes to wrap this up.”

  I stared at him for a second, prepared to check his ass for snapping on me in my own office, and that’s when I saw it.

  Saw the anger swirling around in the same brown eyes that were so happy to see me just moments ago.

  I turned around and headed back to the front of the club.

  By the time I made it back to the bar, I didn’t know what to think.

  “You good?” Through my clouded thinking I heard Dionne speak. I looked at her. Tried to focus. I saw her lips moving, but I couldn’t hear what was coming out.

  I shook my head like I was trying to clear it. “What?” I asked.

  “I asked if you were good?”

  I looked down at my watch. It was almost one. I looked back toward where I’d just come from.

  “Lincoln’s in the back with Nate.” I gave her a look that must’ve translated the confusion I was feeling. “I don’t know what the hell his problem is.”

  She twisted her face. “What is he doing here? Ain’t he supposed to be out chasing criminals or something?”

  “He’s been acting funny ever since Trip got back.”

  Her eyes got big. “Trip Spencer?” She leaned back and laughed. “I know he ain’t happy about that shit.”

  I shook my head. “No, he’s not.”

  I looked around and watched the pulse of the crowd, getting lost for a moment in everyone dancing and partying like they didn’t have a care in the world.

  “Well, don’t let it get to you,” she reassured me. “Once this is over, and Trip is gone, he’ll be back to normal.”

  “Yeah, let’s just hope that’s soon.”

  Just then, I felt Linc come up behind me. He wrapped his arms around my waist, squeezed me close, and pressed his lips against my ear. The sense of relief, which started to wash over my body, was stifled when he whispered in my ear.

  “You need to meet me back at the house, now.”

  My mouth fell open with disbelief. My stomach did a flip.

  Before I could ask what was going on, he disappeared into the crowd. Dionne gave me a look filled with questions, which I had no answers for.

  I had no idea what his problem was but Dionne agreed to do the last count down of the night and tip out the DJ for me so I could finish up in the office and head home. I slipped her the keys and headed out.

  When I pulled into my driveway over an hour later, Linc’s Yukon wasn’t there. The fact that he wasn’t home made my nerves worse. I woke India up so she could head home and I checked in on Cameron. He was sleeping peacefully, which calmed my nerves, but not much.

  As I was making my way back downstairs, Linc was finally pulling into the driveway. I went in the living-room and took a seat on the couch. I didn’t know what the hell was wrong with him but he needed to get it out, whatever it was.

  Once he came in the house, I sat motionless and listened as he shed his night, layer by layer. The sound of the Velcro yielding the release of his bulletproof vest echoed through the foyer. Next I heard the sound of his handcuffs clanging against the tile in the foyer. His footsteps moved into the distance as he moved to the den. The next sound was that of the strongbox, which housed his Glock, being unlocked and relocked. It was then placed back on the shelf, where he kept it, out of Cameron’s si
ght and reach. He was barely three, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t a master explorer and we made damn sure that gun was nowhere in his path.

  “Idalis!”

  “I’m in the living-room.”

  More footsteps.

  This time headed in my direction.

  I stood to my feet. My mind was running through every possibility of what his problem could be. His eyes were fixed on me, causing my face to flush hot. I took a deep breath and blew it out softly.

  He didn’t speak as he walked up to me.

  Then again, he didn’t have to say a word. The anger on his face said enough.

  “Somethin’ you wanna tell me?” he questioned.

  Slowly I shook my head. “Look, I don’t know what you’re talking about. Or why you’re tripping but—”

  His hand shot up and clamped around my throat. He cocked his head to the side and spoke, “I asked you a question shawty.”

  I reached up and wrapped my hand around his wrist. Fear gripped my body and rattled my bones.

  “I don’t know—”

  He tossed me to the couch and I bounced off the edge and hit the floor. “You don’t know what?” he demanded. “I can’t hear you Idalis.”

  My mind was in overdrive. I could feel my heart pounding in my ears. “What is wrong with you? What are you talking about?”

  He lunged toward me and snatched me up from the floor by my hair. He put his face close to mine; I could see the tiny brown flecks in his eyes. His nostrils flared with rage.

  “I’ma give you one more chance. Is there anything you wanna tell me, shawty?” he asked, through clenched teeth.

  I was terrified. I wished I knew what he wanted me to say because at that point I would’ve said whatever he wanted me to say just to get him to stop.

  “I swear, Linc, I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “Guess you ain’t think I was gon’ find out ’bout you meeting Trip at the gym?”

  My chest grew tight and my eyes widened.

  My mouth gaped opened, but the only thing that came out was a soft cry of pain from the grasp he had on my hair.

  “Or about y’all hugged up at Waffle House.”

  That knocked the wind out of me. “Linc, it wasn’t like that and you know it! We’re just friends you know that!”

  He tightened his grip on my hair. “Then what was it like, Idalis?” he growled. “I asked your ass on the phone if you’d talked to him and you told me no.”

  “I hadn’t. I swear. He just happened to be there.”

  “Oh so now you think I’m stupid?”

  Tears fell relentlessly from my eyes. “Linc, stop! Cameron is upstairs asleep.”

  He looked toward the hallway, then back to me. “Maybe I should go wake him up and school l’il man on how much of a liar his mother is.”

  “Linc, don’t do that,” I begged.

  “You got me workin’ fuckin’ crime scenes with this dude knowin’ he had already been hugged up with you and got him laughin’ behind my back?” he yelled.

  He released the grip he had on my hair. Before I could recover from the excruciating pain, his hand slammed across my right cheek, knocking me back to the floor.

  Terrified, I scrambled to the couch and scooted into the corner.

  He stood there for a moment glaring at me before he turned and walked away.

  “You ever make me look stupid like that again, Idalis, I’ll kill you,” he said, as he headed down the hall.

  A few moments later I heard his footsteps fade off in the distance as he made his way upstairs to the bedroom. Once I heard the bedroom door close, I got up off the couch and went into the bathroom in the hallway and checked my tear-streaked face. It was red, but nothing that I couldn’t cover with makeup.

  After all, I had become somewhat of a pro at covering up things.

  Chapter Seven

  Idalis

  “Idalis, this is crazy! I can’t believe he hit you.”

  The next evening I was sitting at my kitchen table as India handed me a washcloth with some ice cubes tucked inside. I placed it on my throbbing jaw. She came by after her evening class and brought us some takeout. I could barely get off the couch and had managed to keep Cameron happy with PB&Js and cheese crackers all afternoon.

  “Keep your voice down. Cameron is in the other room.”

  “I know. And what if my nephew had woken up last night when he came up in here, acting like a dick?”

  I put the ice pack on the table. “But he didn’t. Can we just drop it?”

  “That’s it.” She threw her hands up in the air. “I’m tellin’ Mommy.”

  I stood up. “Don’t do that, India. She already got too much to worry about with Grammie.”

  “Then I’m telling his captain! I’m telling someone. This is bullshit!” she yelled. Her voice was quavering, letting me know she was about to cry.

  That was one thing about us that we both hated. It didn’t take much for us to cry. Especially when we were mad.

  My twin stared at me with tears in her eyes. She was a mirror image of me: right down to the back-length honey blond–highlighted hair and the tiny scar above our right brow.

  My scar came when I was eight years old. I was running and playing out in front of our grandmother’s house. Grammie’s home had a brick wall, which framed the front yard, and I tripped and fell, hitting my head on the edge of one of the bricks. Twin insisted we didn’t match anymore and we had to be the same, even down to scars. So she took Mama’s house key and dug it into her head above her brow until she bled, leaving a scar to match mine. Of course, my mother wanted to strangle her, but I think it was then when she realized that the connection we made in the womb would never be broken.

  I tried to make light of the situation. “So, can I slap you so we have matching bruises?”

  She cut her eyes at me, letting me know she wasn’t in the mood to laugh this off. I couldn’t blame her for caring; after all, she was my sister. I wanted to say something to make her feel better, but I didn’t have the answers myself. Linc had never done anything like this before. This was unchartered territory for everybody; I hated it just as much as she did.

  “Idalis, you need to handle this. He’s gone too far.”

  I stood up and made my way to the sink, dumping out the melting ice cubes. “I know, India. And I will,” I assured her.

  “I’m serious,” she continued. “He needs to get his shit straight, or it’s a wrap.”

  Her honesty, although appreciated, was starting to annoy me.

  “Twin, I understand where you’re coming from. I just need to sort this out with him, which I will do.”

  A few moments later we heard the soft chime of the alarm notifying us that the front door had been opened. My body tensed as India stood in the doorway of the kitchen.

  I heard Linc’s keys being placed on the table in the foyer and I stood to my feet as he made his way down the hall to the kitchen.

  “What are you doing here?” India snapped, ready to fight.

  “I live here,” he countered. “Fuck you doin’ here?”

  I put my hand on her arm. “India, don’t.”

  She looked at me, then back to him. “I’m going to check on my nephew.”

  We both stood motionless as she disappeared out of the kitchen. Once she was gone, he moved in my direction. I didn’t know if I should run or grab a knife out of the butcher-block caddy.

  “Idalis ... I’m ... I’m sorry.”

  I moved slowly and managed to put the island in the middle of the kitchen between us.

  “What’s going on with you, Linc?” I asked.

  He reached up and rubbed the top of his head. “Man, this case just got me stressed. That’s all.”

  “But you’ve had stressful cases before, and you never brought them home with you. Most of all, you’ve never put your hands on me.”

  He placed his palms on the counter. “I know. But this one’s different.”

  “
Why, because of him?”

  I stood there, waiting for an explosion of some sort, but instead he kept his head down. He was hiding whatever truth his eyes might have been holding. I saw his chest expand and deflate as he filled his lungs with air and let it out.

  Silence hung between us, longer than I wanted. I could hear Cameron laughing and what sounded like music coming from the television in the den.

  “Do you wanna be with him?” he asked, when he finally spoke.

  This time it was my turn to move toward him. I reached up and placed my hand on the back of his head. “Linc, I’m marrying you.”

  He turned his head and looked down at me. “That’s not what I asked you.”

  “Trip is my best friend. We’ve been through a lot together. We have a lot of history. It’s hard to label something like that.”

  He shook his head. “That don’t mean nothing, shawty. Hell, we got history. You still ain’t answered my question.”

  Just then, India and Cameron walked into the kitchen, taking our attention away from each other. She had car keys in her hands and Cameron’s Optimus Prime overnight bag on her shoulder.

  “What’s going on?” I asked.

  “Cam’s coming to spend the night with Auntie India, right?”

  My baby boy smiled big. “Can I, Mommy? Can I, Daddy?”

  I knew what she was doing; and whether I agreed with her or not, I loved her for it.

  Linc bent down and picked up Cameron. “You promise to be good for your grandma?”

  “Yes, sir.” He nodded, excited. “Mommy, can I go?”

  I forced a smiled as I stared into my sister’s sad eyes. “Yes, baby, you can go.”

  He raised his tiny fists over his head and started cheering. “Yay!”

  I watched as Linc bent down and placed him back on the floor and he ran over to my sister. She scooped him up and looked from Linc back to me. “Call me if you need me.”

  “I will.”

  They headed down the hallway. I heard the front door open, then close. And just like that, I was alone with Linc.

  I took a deep breath and rubbed the palms of my hands on the front of my jeans. I knew this night could end one of two ways: peaceful or chaotic. I personally was voting for peace.

  He leaned back against the counter and crossed his arms against his chest.