Safe Space II: The Finale

by Tiffany Patterson

  “I’m sorry. I know you meant well. Thank you for everything.” I went over to Jay, squeezing his arm affectionately.

  “Something you want to talk about?” he questioned.

  “No, I’m good. Really.”

  “You sure? Cause if it’s X, I can handle that for you.” His lips quirked up into a slight smile.

  Although he was joking, a wave of sadness passed through my belly. I didn’t want him to see it though, so I returned his smile.

  “We’re good. I’ll see you a little later.”

  Jason headed out the door, giving me one last glance over his shoulder before disappearing. I busied myself with putting away some of the law books I had tucked in boxes and on my desk. The furniture I’d ordered for my new spacious office hadn’t arrived yet, so I was using an old desk and chairs in the meantime. Just as I got lost in unpacking, a knock at my door startled me.

  “Hey, cousin,” a deep, male voice stated behind me.

  My lips parted in a grin at the sound of Jamal’s voice. I turned to see my six-foot-two cousin dressed in a pinstripe suit. In his hand was a bouquet of white lilies.

  “Hey, Mal,” I greeted as he pulled me into a side hug.

  “These are for you. Welcome to the building.” He grinned down at me.

  “Thank you.” I took the clear glass vase from his hands. Jamal’s office was in the same building as my father’s firm, a few flights down. “You didn’t have to do this. Come in.”

  “It was nothing. How does it feel to be here finally?” he asked.

  “Honestly, a little surreal. I haven’t had time to process it all yet. How’re things in your neck of the woods?” I perched myself on the edge of my desk.

  “Going well. Business is growing. I’m going to have to hire another financial advisor soon.”

  My face lit up with excitement for him. “That’s great. You’re growing.”

  “Well, you know,” he stated, chuckling and popping his collar.

  I playfully rolled my eyes. “Don’t get too full of yourself or anything.”

  “So, what’s up? You on lunch?”

  “Soon. Gabby’s coming in to bring lunch in a bit.” I paused as a thought entered my mind. “Hey, speaking of business, can I ask you something?”

  Jamal’s face crinkled into a curious frown. “Of course, what’s up?”

  “Have a seat.” I gestured to the chair across from my desk.

  Jamal folded his big self into the chair, stretching his legs out in front of him, crossing them at the ankles and clasping his hands. I was reminded of my uncle, Jamal’s father. Mal looked so much like a younger version of him, but I didn’t dare mention that. I knew it was still a touchy subject.

  “So, my friend, Gabby. You remember her, right? I think you two met at a club a few months back.”

  An expression appeared on his face that I couldn’t pinpoint, but it disappeared, and he nodded.

  “Okay, well she’s an esthetician and massage therapist. One of the best around , in my unbiased opinion.” I smirked.

  Jamal snorted but said nothing else.

  “She’s great and passionate about her career. In fact, one of her main goals is to open her salon to service women and men of varying incomes.”

  “Massage parlors and spas are popular. She’ll have some strong competition”

  My lips pursed at the doubt I heard in his voice.

  “But it’s not impossible, right?”

  He shrugged, adjusting his light-colored silk tie. “I mean, it depends.”

  “On?”

  “A number of factors. How long has she been in the business? What are her credentials? She just moved to Houston a little over a year ago, right? Same time as you?”

  I nodded.

  “So, that could mean she hasn’t had enough time to build up a secure clientele base. How is she planning to promote? Does she have the start-up costs? You know most startups fail within the first five years, and given your friend’s, uh, eccentricities…”

  “Excuse you?”

  My head sprung up, and my eyes zeroed in on Gabby standing in my door way. She was dressed in a pair of sky blue scrubs she usually wore at the doctor’s office where she worked. Her curly ’fro was pulled up in a high bun atop her head with slicked down baby hairs at her temples. She looked adorable, save for the way her honey-colored eyes were shooting daggers at Jamal.

  “Gabby, I was just speaking to—”

  “I heard you, and I heard him.”

  She stepped fully into my office. I hurried to the door to shut it behind her, hoping this wouldn’t get too loud. Gabby could have a short temper, and I recalled the last conversation we’d had about Jamal and the way she’d sworn he was giving her funny looks. By the time I’d closed the door, Jamal had stood up, facing Gabby.

  “Yeah, your eccentricities. Chanel asked me what I thought of your business idea, and given your tendencies, I’m not sure how well you’d be able to handle running a business.”

  “My tend…?” She broke off, looking back to me as if she couldn’t believe his mouth. “Excuse you. You don’t even know me. We’ve met all of one time, one time in which you were extremely dismissive of me, might I add.”

  “I was dismissive?” Jamal pressed his hand to his chest, head tilting back.

  “Yes, you. I could tell right away you were all on your high horse about me. But let me tell you something,” Gabby inched closer. “I don’t know what my dear friend has told you, but I don’t need any input from you about my business. Got it?”

  “Pssh,” Jamal waved her off, stepping around her to move toward the door. “Don’t sweat it. I’d be more than happy to mind my business. Good luck with your lil’ venture.” He gave her one last up and down look, before turning back to me. “Chanel, good to see you. I’ll check you later.” And he was gone, shutting the door behind him.

  “My lil’ venture... Is he serious?” Gabby charged to the door.

  I quickly stepped in front of her. “Woah, there. Let’s not get too crazy. This is my new place of work, all right?”

  “Yeah, but your father owns the firm. Hell, you’re part owner. What’s he gonna do, fire you? Let me just speak to—”

  “Not going to happen,” I cut her off.

  “Fine, I’m pissed at you anyway,” she tossed at me over her shoulder as she strolled to my desk. She placed a big paper bag with handles on the desk. I knew right away it was one of her favorite soul food vegan restaurants.

  “Don’t be pissed. I was trying to pick his brain about starting a business. I told you, he does that as part of his financial planning business.”

  “And I told you I didn’t need help. Especially not from the likes of him. Did you hear him? ‘All her eccentricities.’”

  I had to bite my lower lip to keep from smirking at the way she mimicked Jamal.

  “Come on. Jamal can be a little stuck-up sometimes, but he means well. And he’s good at what he does.”

  “Whatever. He can go to hell with all that. When I start my business, it won’t be with his help. I don’t need his help or his condescension. And I don’t need my best friend running to him with questions on my behalf. Now, come here and sit down so we can eat.”

  I laughed. “Bossy much?”

  “No. I just know you. And I know you probably haven’t had anything to eat today due to nerves. You’re probably running on two cups of caffeine only.”

  I frowned as she mean-mugged me with her arms crossed, daring me to tell her she was wrong.

  “Three cups,” I corrected.

  She rolled her eyes and handed me the plastic wrapped silverware.

  “What’d you get?” I asked, savoring the aroma as she pulled the cartons out of the bag.

  “Jerk seitan over beans and rice for me, and vegan gumbo over rice for you with a side of vegan cornbread.”

  “Nice.” I rubbed my hands together. We sat down at the round table that was set up in my office, close to the floor-to-ceiling window.
It gave us a nice view of the street below. We ate in silence for a few minutes, enjoying our food. Gabby was right. I hadn’t eaten all day. I was too nervous to eat breakfast before leaving home, and once I got to the office, I was busy in meetings and making introductions all day.

  “Thanks for lunch. I needed this little break.”

  Gabby waved her hand. “Of course. But why are you so stressed? Your dad asked you to work with him. You should be happy about that. Plus, those beautiful flowers from a special someone seem to indicate you guys are back on track.”

  I snorted. I’d told Gabby that Xavier and I had gotten into it in Miami, but hadn’t revealed all the details to her. That would’ve required me telling her about finding out I was pregnant right after I moved to L.A. And although I knew she wouldn’t judge my actions, I wasn’t ready to share that yet.

  “Those flowers are from Jamal. He brought them to welcome me to the building.”

  “Oh, so you and Mr. Grant haven’t completely hashed things out yet, huh?”

  I sat back in my chair, wiping my mouth with my napkin before answering her. “Not quite. Only two days after we got back from Miami, he had to fly back out to D.C. for work. He just got back in last night.” We’d talked while he was gone, but the conversations were short and stilted.

  “You’re still not going to tell me what this fight was about?”

  I looked at Gabby, hoping I wasn’t hurting her feelings, but I just wasn’t ready to go into detail. Especially not at work. Thankfully, there was a knock on my door before I could respond. My office phone hadn’t been hooked up yet, so my assistant had to come to my office to give me my messages. I assumed it was her as I rose to open the door.

  I was met with a man holding a huge bouquet. I was blown away by the beauty of the arrangement that included white roses and hydrangeas.

  “Ms. Richards?” the man asked behind the bouquet.

  “Yes, that’s me.”

  “Happy first day on the job. Enjoy. The card is in the middle.”

  The arrangement was far too elegant and beautiful to be from anyone besides Xavier. I stuck my nose in the flowers and sniffed as I walked to my desk to place them down. I grinned as I pulled the card from the middle of the bouquet.

  Good luck on your first day, baby girl. I’ll see you later today. -X

  I placed the card down and ran my hand over one of the roses.

  “I see he hasn’t given up on you. And that smile tells me you haven’t either. I know you two will work this little tiff out,” Gabrielle stated from her seat.

  I hoped what she said was true. I hadn’t seen Xavier in close to a week since he left for D.C., and we would be meeting at Dr. Winston’s office. I was grateful he even agreed to go with me in the first place. When Dr. Winston had suggested I bring Xavier to a session to work through our issue, I was hesitant. My fears were put to rest a bit when he agreed.

  “We’re going to see Dr. Winston today. Xavier and I,” I added the last part for clarity.

  Gabby’s perfectly arched eyebrow rose. “He’s going to your therapist with you?”

  “Yeah,” I answered, biting my lower lip.

  “Don’t be nervous. That’s a good thing.” Her genuine smile reassured me, and I glanced back at the bouquet.

  ****

  Xavier

  I strutted through the office doors of the lobby of the large office building toward the elevator. A few minutes later, I was exiting onto the fifteenth floor and heading toward an office I’d never been to before. Thankfully, I spotted Chanel standing outside of one of the doors. When she saw me, a small smile cracked her face.

  “Hi,” she greeted.

  I pulled her into me and pressed a quick kiss to her gloss-coated lips. She reached up, wiping the excess gloss from my lips.

  “Thanks for coming.”

  I frowned. “You say that like you expected me not to show.”

  When her eyes turned downward, my heart sank. She obviously hadn’t totally trusted me to show. That had me feeling some type of way.

  “Let’s go.” I opened the door, allowing her to enter first.

  I entered behind her to see a young guy at the receptionist desk. I could see recognition flash across his face when he saw Chanel.

  “Ms. Richards, how good to see you on a Monday.”

  “Hey, Michael, how are you?” Chanel asked. “This is my, um—”

  “Xavier Grant,” I introduced, wrapping my hand around Chanel’s waist.

  “Yes, we’ve been expecting you. Dr. Winston said to send you in once you two arrived. You can go on back,” Michael told us.

  I followed Chanel as we passed a couple of closed office doors with official name plaques outside of them, until we arrived at the one with Dr. Winston, Psy.D. on it. Chanel rapped a couple of times on the door, and a feminine voice on the other side called for us to enter. As soon as the door opened, my nose was hit with some light floral scent, maybe lavender. A petite older woman with copper-toned skin and graying hair at the temples stood. Her warm smile seemed friendly enough.

  “Chanel. And Mr. Grant, I presume?” Dr. Winston questioned.

  “Xavier, please,” I responded.

  “Nice to meet you, Xavier. Please come in and make yourselves comfortable.”

  I followed Chanel as she took a seat on the leather couch across from the door. The office was small, but not in an uncomfortable way. I settled into the couch, throwing my arm closest to Chanel around the back of the couch, my fingertips grazing her shoulder, and unbuttoned my suit jacket.

  “Xavier, Chanel is used to our sessions by now, but since this is your first time here, I will give you a short introduction. I’m Dr. Winston. I specialize in cognitive and behavioral therapy, which focuses on changing our though t patterns to change our outward behavior. Many times, it’s important to first understand our thoughts and beliefs that lead to certain behavior. Chanel has done a lot of this work over the last few months. She’s told me about the argument you two got into the other week, but I’d like to hear your perspective.”

  “I got into a fight with her ex at a club of mine, and she got upset.”

  Dr. Winston wrote something down in her notebook. I looked at Chanel, who was giving me an incredulous look.

  “Was that it?”

  I sighed. “Nah, we got into the argument afterwards, and I said something I shouldn’t have.”

  “What was it?”

  I hesitated.

  “He said I killed a baby and that he was afraid I’d do the same to ours if I ever got pregnant again.”

  Damn. That stung to hear out loud.

  “I never said—”

  “You didn’t?” Chanel asked.

  “No, I said—as I’ve tried to explain, that yes, you had an abortion and—”

  “And that you believed I’d do it again if I ever got pregnant by you, right?”

  “Are you going to let me finish talking?” I was getting annoyed.

  “Okay, how about we calm down and let me sort this out. What I’m hearing, Xavier, is that Chanel confided in you that she’d had an abortion not too long after leaving her former fiancé, is that correct?”

  I nodded.

  “And while, at the time, you didn’t have an initial reaction, upon seeing her ex at one of your clubs, all your anger at him for what he’d done to Chanel and the fact that she’d had an abortion boiled over, leading you to attack him. Is that fair to say?”

  I thought about it. Chanel was staring straight ahead at Dr. Winston. That was completely accurate considering I’d had a PI tracking Ethan and been waiting for months to catch up to him.

  “Yeah, that’d be fair to say.”

  “And Chanel, how did it make you feel when Xavier phrased your abortion that way?”

  Chanel’s eyelids closed for a second before opening again. “Like shit, to be completely honest. It felt like shit.”

  My stomach plummeted.

  “Why?”

  Chanel blew out a
deep breath before pushing her hair behind her ear.

  “Because,” she paused, shaking her head. “I never wanted to…it was never my intent to…because I had no one. I mean, I had Gabby, but she was away at the time I found out, and yeah, I had money from my trust fund. Finances were never a concern. But I’d just left someone who truly terrified me, and I couldn’t rely on my family to be there for me. My mother was dead, I was starting a new life in a new city, and I was still broken from what I’d endured. I wasn’t selfless enough to be anyone’s mother with all of that hanging over me.”

  “Xavier, did you hear what Chanel said?”

  I sat back and thought over Chanel’s words. I heard the pain in her voice as she talked about the agonizing decision she’d made. Maybe it’d been my own anger that’d prevented me from hearing that pain the first time she spoke about it.

  “Yeah,” I answered.

  “Tell me what you heard her say.”

  I wanted to roll my eyes, but then I looked at Chanel, whose watery eyes were back on me, and that urge went away.

  Staring directly at her I said, “She said she was scared for her life after everything she’d been through with her ex. She was lonely and didn’t have anyone she could rely on, and with the emotional baggage of her past, she wasn’t ready to be a mother.”

  Relief flooded Chanel’s face.

  Saying the words aloud helped me to understand better. I still hated it, but I got it.

  “And why did it pain you so much to hear of the decision she’d made?”

  My forehead creased as I turned surprised eyes on Dr. Winston. “Pain?”

  She nodded. “Your reaction to Chanel’s confession tells me pain was triggered for you.”

  I wanted to tell this lady she was crazy and to mind her business. That’s what my head was telling me, but my heart was telling me she was correct. I remembered asking my mom about when she found out she was pregnant with me. I remembered the dull feeling that gripped my chest when I’d thought about Chanel and I having children. I hated to admit it, but it was true.

  I remained silent, thinking for a while.

  “My father,” I finally answered. I turned my head to Chanel who gave me a confused look. “I know what it’s like not to be wanted by a parent. The thought of the woman I loved not wanting to bear my children might have been behind my reaction,” I realized.