Blindsided (Indigo Love Spectrum)

by Williams, Tammy

“Honestly, Mom, I think you’d be more comfortable at a hotel. The Inn is very nice.”

  “I’ve stayed there before, Norris, and it’s nice for what it is, but I want to stay with you. Darling, really, the meter is running,” she said, shooing him on his way. Norris bit back the testy words resting on his tongue as he made his way to the waiting cabbie. Why would she care about a few dollars when she wasn’t paying the bill anyway? And ordering him around in his house . . . this could not last.

  With the promise of a ten-dollar tip, Norris got the impatient driver to help him lug in what looked to be several months’ worth of luggage. Roughly five minutes later, after he brought in the last suitcase, Norris immediately noticed his mother wasn’t in the living room and his art pieces had been removed from the walls.

  His face grew hot. “Mother!” Norris shouted. “Mother!”

  Genevieve strolled into the living room. “Norris, must you shout? What is the problem?”

  “Where is my art?”

  “Art? Oh, you mean the hideous masks you keep on the walls. I removed them. They’re scary, and just not appropriate for a man of your means. The leather furniture isn’t so bad, but those masks . . .”

  “What the hell are you talking about?”

  “You’re a wealthy man, and you have a lovely home, but your taste in art? Son, what is it with the jungle motif?”

  “It is not a jungle motif. I happen to like and appreciate African art, and it is very expensive. And considering this is my house, I want my art back on my walls. I don’t want you touching anything in here. As a matter of fact, I don’t want you staying here.”

  “I’m going through so much right now. Why are you being hostile towards me?”

  Norris covered his eyes. His temples pounded with the threat of a monster headache. “Mom, I’m not being hostile, I’m just tired and I don’t like my things being disturbed.”

  “Fine, I’ll put the masks back up.”

  “You do that.” Norris sat on the couch and closed his eyes, wanting to block out the fact his mother was standing in his living room. She needed a place to stay. “Mom, I don’t mind having you a few days, but just until you find your own place. Your luggage suggests you’ll be in town for a while.”

  “I don’t know how long I’ll be here, but I wanted to be prepared for whatever I might decide. Thank you for allowing me to stay. I’ll try to be out of your hair as soon as possible.” Genevieve pointed towards the hallway. “Why did you change your spare bedroom? It seems a little feminine for you, but it’s very nice. I should be very comfortable in there.”

  Norris sat up. “Oh, no. You can’t stay in that room.”

  “It’s your guest bedroom.”

  “It was, but it’s no longer for a guest. I’ll crash on the couch while you’re here and you can take my room, but the other room is off limits.”

  “I understand you don’t want me here, but the dresser drawers in that room are empty, so unless your guest is invisible, that explanation doesn’t work.”

  “Mom, I don’t have to give you an explanation of what goes on in my house, and, again, I don’t want you going through my things.” Norris sighed heavily. His mother would not stop snooping and the sooner he told her about Reese, the sooner he could prepare Reese for meeting her. “Since you will not leave this alone and you’re going to find out anyway, I guess now is a good time for me to tell you something.”

  “What?”

  “That room belongs to my daughter.”

  Genevieve’s eyes widened. “Your daughter?”

  “Yes. Her name is Reese and she’s sixteen years old.” Norris paused. “And there’s more.”

  “More than that?”

  “I guess in addition to is more appropriate.”

  “I don’t think you can surprise me more than you have.”

  “Guess again. My beautiful daughter, your granddaughter, is biracial. Her mother is African-American.”

  Chapter 14

  Early the next morning, Dahlia left her bed and dragged down to the kitchen. She wanted to feel happy that Norris had finally given in and realized a relationship wasn’t in the cards for them, but disgust led the field in the emotions department. Disgust with herself for keeping him at arm’s length, and disgust with Norris for allowing her to do it. Why did he have to have all or nothing? Why couldn’t he just let things stay the way they were?

  Dahlia forced herself to eat her breakfast of three scrambled egg whites, dry toast, half a grapefruit, and skim milk. She wanted to work out before going to church and needed fuel to make it happen. Plus, she’d eaten two of the single bags of chips she’d bought last night, making two workouts today essential. Determined not to succumb to her salty, crispy weakness, Dahlia emptied the remaining four bags into the trash disposal. If push came to shove she knew she would buy more, but at least the temptation was not in her house.

  Two hours later, Dahlia sat at the bar in her home gym drinking water and wiping the sweat leaking from every pore of her body. Her clothes stuck to her skin, and a quick glance in the mirrored wall behind the bar showed her hair matted to her head, but she felt good.

  She’d needed that workout. It had kept her mind off of what’s-his-name.

  The sound of the ringing phone quickened Dahlia’s still-racing pulse. Norris! She pushed aside the water bottle and grabbed the cordless phone. “Hello,” she said, trying not to sound as anxious as she felt.

  “Dee, baby, you okay?”

  “Grandma,” she said, always happy to hear from Grandma Flora, but feeling the slightest bit let down. “I’m fine. I just finished working out.”

  “You do a lot of that.”

  “I have to.”

  “You going to church today?” Flora asked.

  “I’d hope to, yes, ma’am.”

  “Think you can pick up your old grandma?”

  Dahlia smiled. “You’ll never be old, and I’d love to.”

  Her parents had gone to Atlanta to visit the ailing Leslie. The last she’d heard, her sister was doing better, and she was glad, but even after a couple of weeks, accepting that Leslie carried her ex-husband’s baby was hard to take.

  Dahlia drew a breath and concentrated on the moment. She hadn’t spent as much time with her grandmother as she’d wanted to, but today could change that. Maybe they could grab a bite together after church, too. “I was planning to attend the first service. Would you rather I wait for the second?” she asked.

  “No, no, first is fine. I can be ready in an hour.”

  “Okay, I’ll see you then, Grandma.”

  Dahlia smiled as she made way out of the gym. The endorphins from the workout had her body humming, and talking to her grandmother always did her heart good. She’d be lying if she said Norris wasn’t still on her mind, but she felt a lot better than she had when she woke up this morning.

  “Hey there.”

  Dahlia jumped at the sound of Reese’s voice. She covered her racing heart. She’d finally caught her breath after exercising and now she couldn’t breathe again.

  “I’m sorry,” Reese said, coming out the kitchen with a glass of orange juice. “I didn’t mean to scare you.”

  “It’s okay,” Dahlia said, still gasping for breath. “I thought you were staying at Diana’s until later.”

  “I was, but I needed to unpack a few things and study for a test. Last week was crazy with preparing for the wedding and bringing some of my things over here, but now it’s back to the real world. This is the last test before finals. Can’t get into Columbia if I let my A average slip.” A curious smile played at the corner of Reese’s lips. “So, what were you so happy about just now, Dahlia? Did your guy keep you company last night?” She giggled. “Is he the hottie from the wedding?”

  Dahlia lowered her gaze. Reese’s easy-going questioning was a lot more painful than fun.

  “Uh-oh. Have I stuck my foot in my mouth again? Did you and your guy have a fight or something?”

  “I never said the
re was a guy, Reese.”

  Reese crossed her arms, clearly not believing that line for a second. “Or something, huh?” she said.

  Dahlia nodded. “Yeah. Or something.” She rubbed the towel through her damp hair; she’d go with the flat look today. “I’m heading up for a shower and then going off to church.”

  “Okay, we can talk later,” Reese said, her twinkling eyes and coy smile reminding Dahlia more and more of Norris.

  Dahlia flashed a tight smile. “Right, later.”

  * * *

  “That was quite a sermon from Rev. Leonard,” Dahlia said, opening the passenger side of her car and helping Flora inside. “He had a little extra fire and brimstone this morning.”

  “He’s a good God man,” said Flora, swinging her legs inside. “He has a way of bringing the word to people in the way he feels they need it.”

  “Right.” Dahlia closed the door and got in on the driver’s side. “How about some lunch, Grandma? We can go to Martin’s.”

  “You don’t need to spend all your money when you can come to my house and eat.”

  “I know, but I’d like to do something special for you, and have somebody cook for you for a change.”

  “Child, while I still got two good arms and legs, I’m going to do whatever I can for myself. ’Sides, I want us to talk, and I don’t want a bunch of strangers around when we do it.”

  Dahlia nibbled on her bottom lip. The unsettling feeling she got from Reese’s questions this morning returned to her stomach. Dodging Reese’s questions was one thing, but Grandma Flora was a different story.

  “You know what, Grandma, I just remembered something . . . .”

  Flora waved her hand. “Don’t even try that with me, girl. You’ve been keeping away long enough. I woke up early this morning and baked a ham, made some macaroni and cheese, perlo rice, collard greens, cornbread, and pound cake, and you will talk and eat this food with me today.”

  “Grandma,” Dahlia practically whined, not sure if she was more upset about the idea of facing her grandmother’s questioning or eating her delicious and extremely fattening food. She allowed herself to eat what she wanted, but she always had trouble turning down seconds from her grandmother’s table.

  “One good meal will not hurt you, and I’m ready to hear about this man you haven’t told me about.”

  Dahlia froze. Grandma knew. Denial was an option, but after so many months, she really needed to unburden herself to someone. “How long have you known?”

  “A while now.” Flora closed her warm, wrinkled hand around Dahlia’s. “Go on and drive. We’ll talk at the house.”

  About an hour later, Dahlia sat at her grandmother’s kitchen table with a steaming plate of the Sunday lunch/dinner before her. Flora sat across from her and offered the blessing.

  “Amen,” they both said at the conclusion of grace. “You can eat and talk,” Flora said, waving her fork at Dahlia’s plate.

  Dahlia had a bite of the macaroni. The distinctive flavor of the three cheeses her grandmother used enlivened her taste buds. She smiled. “It’s even better than I remember.”

  “There’s more than macaroni on your plate.”

  Dahlia took a bite of everything. Soul food definitely had the right name. She hadn’t even started talking yet, and her soul felt better already.

  “All right, now. Tell me about him,” Flora said.

  “I don’t know where to start.” Dahlia ate a few more bites of food. “It’s complicated, Grandma.”

  “One thing’s not complicated. Do you love him?”

  Dahlia pushed back the plate and nodded as the first of her tears streamed down her cheeks. “Yes, Grandma, I love him.”

  “Now, child.” Flora used a paper napkin to dab at Dahlia’s tears. “Does he love you?”

  “He said he does.”

  “Then why are you so upset?”

  “I don’t want to love him,” Dahlia said between sobs.

  “I don’t want to love anybody. Love hurts too much.”

  “Baby, love doesn’t always hurt. This man can be the one to show you that.”

  “No, he can’t show me that. He says he loves me, but I don’t think I can trust that.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because our . . . The way we got together is not what you’d call traditional.”

  “What you mean, child?”

  Dahlia reached for her glass of tea, gulping the sweet beverage until it was gone. She lowered the glass to see her grandmother’s unflinching brown-eyed gaze.

  “Are you really going to make me say it, Grandma?”

  Flora shook her head. “Uhm, uhm, uhm. My Lord, my Lord.”

  “You’re disappointed in me, aren’t you?”

  “I’m surprised. You’re not a loose woman. You were raised in the church. Why do that?”

  “I can’t explain it, Grandma. It just happened.” Flora moaned. “Go on with your story, Dee.”

  “I guess you can figure out the rest. I met him at the movie rental store back in February. I thought it would only be one time, but one time turned to two, and two multiplied. We agreed it would be what it was.”

  “You were some man’s bootie call?”

  Dahlia gasped. “Grandma!”

  “That’s what you’re saying, ain’t it?”

  “He was mine, too, okay? We understood each other. And then he had to ruin it by saying he loves me.” Dahlia scoffed. “Jonah said he loved me, too.”

  “You can’t measure every man by Jonah. I never really liked that boy, but I tried for you.”

  “I remember.” Dahlia laughed. “You were right about him.”

  “Maybe I’m right about this man, too. What’s his name?”

  “Norris Converse.”

  “The Norris Converse with that business downtown?”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  Flora’s eyes widened. “Dahlia, he’s white.”

  Dahlia nodded. “Yes, he is.” She didn’t have to address the comment again. Flora had told many stories about the inequity she faced growing up in the Jim Crow South, but she didn’t hold hostility, insisting hate was taught and she wouldn’t allow the unfairness she faced to compel her to treat people she didn’t know the way she had been treated. If she showed hostility toward anyone, it was because they brought it on themselves. “He’s also Reese’s father,” Dahlia said.

  “The girl staying with you?”

  “Yes, ma’am. I don’t know who was more surprised by that revelation—Norris, Reese, or me.”

  “My Lord, my Lord.” Flora drank some tea. “Why do you doubt his love? Did he say the words at a time you’d have reason to doubt them?” Flora asked with a raised brow.

  “Grandma!” Dahlia dragged out in stunned disbelief. “No, he didn’t. Goodness.” She shuddered, shocked at her grandmother’s implication and even more by the level of detail she’d shared. Talking about her sex life with her grandmother. These were definitely some strange days.

  “Then what’s the problem?”

  “Norris. He has a reputation with the ladies, and he’s not the committing type. To keep saying he loves me when he freely admits he’d never said the words to another woman troubles me. He’s like Jonah in a lot of ways. I didn’t find Jonah with lots of women, but I’m not so foolish as to believe Leslie was the only one. I know Norris has a reputation with women.”

  “Is that the problem?”

  “Yes.” Dahlia nodded. “That is the problem. I chose to get involved with Norris because he didn’t do relationships, and I didn’t want to do them anymore. He was safe. When I fell in love with him, I knew it didn’t matter, because I still didn’t want a relationship, and I believed he felt the same. But then he said the words. And he keeps saying them, and he says them with such conviction.”

  Dahlia sighed. “How could I fall in love with a man exactly like the one I left? And not just love him, but like him, care about him, want to share everything with him. Grandma, I don’t want to be like thos
e women who leave one abusive relationship only to fall into the same kind of relationship with a different man. I’m not stupid, but I feel that way. How could I let myself fall in love again?”

  “The heart knows what it wants.”

  “But sometimes your heart wants the wrong thing. I can’t get with that ‘It’s better to have loved and lost’ ideology. I could have gone my whole life without feeling that pain. Why would I willingly put myself in the position to feel it again?”

  “Because you love him. You love him and it scares you to death. You can’t keep this truth from me.”

  Dahlia held Flora’s hand in hers. “Okay, you’re right, Grandma, I am scared. But I can handle the fear I’ve placed on myself a lot better than I can the hurt some body places on me. I chose this fear, and it keeps me alert. That’s why I know, as hard as it is, I can live with the decision I’ve made to end things with Norris. It’s the best thing I can do for myself.” She kissed her grandmother’s cheek. “Thank you for letting me talk, for listening, and for not judging me.”

  “It’s not for me or anyone else to judge you. I only want you to be happy.”

  “I am.” Dahlia bobbed her head from side to side. “Mostly.” She kissed Flora again. “Thanks for the food and everything, Grandma. I really appreciate it.”

  “You’re welcome, but I’m worried about you.” Flora moved over to the counter and sliced several large pieces of cake. “You talk big, but I know you. You feel things deeply, child. Hurt, sadness, happiness, and love. You won’t be able to pretend you don’t feel what you feel. And if this man loves you as much as it appears he does, he’ll see your feelings in your eyes. Just like I do.”

  Dahlia said nothing to that. Norris always said he could see her love for him in her eyes, but then he gave up on her. Maybe it was just words. Another man feeding her lines. Dahlia wanted some chips. She needed her comfort food.

  Flora wrapped the cake in aluminum foil and handed it to Dahlia. “This is for you and Reese,” she said. “Thank you.”

  Flora pulled Dahlia into a hug. “You take care, child.”

  Dahlia nodded and managed a smile. Once she got hold of some chips, she’d be able to take care of herself very well. d