Southern Love

by Synithia Williams

  “Emotions and feelings are the same thing.”

  She scoffed. “Who cares? My point is that you want things to be black and white when life isn’t like that.”

  “Are you telling me you loved him?” Jealousy gripped him as he waited for her answer. The door to a relationship between the two of them was shut, bolted and nailed closed, but it didn’t make it easier thinking of her in love someone else.

  She chewed the inside of her cheek before answering. “No, I didn’t love him.”

  Relief relaxed his shoulders. He didn’t want to exam why. “So why where you with him?”

  His eyes bore into hers. He shouldn’t have asked. But ever since Shayla had gone from the one person in life he could trust, to the person who’d hurt him the most he’d always wondered what went on inside her mind. The same rationale she criticized him about was what she once claimed kept her sane. Now she didn’t appear to want any sanity in her life.

  “We had fun together, okay. The thing you hate to hear me say, I did something just because at the time it seemed like a fun thing to do.” Her shoulders slumped and he saw in her eyes how much it upset her to admit that to him.

  She shifted on the exam table. “Can you take me home now?”

  The entire conversation was unnecessary. Why Shayla Monroe did the things she did wasn’t his concern. If she never realized how smart, beautiful and special she was and continued hooking herself to men who never realized it either, then more power to her. From what he’d heard she was only in town temporarily. His best bet was to try and avoid her while she was here and move on with his life after she left.

  He reached out to help her slide off the table. It was easier to ignore his reaction to her closeness this time. He pulled away abruptly and with a brisk “wait here” left to get a pair of crutches stored in a closet. He helped her adjust them to her height, she was only a few inches shorter than his six feet, and they left without a word.

  The silence continued as he drove toward her mother’s home. On the way, memories of driving her home after football and basketball games rushed through his head. The way they’d talk and laugh about everything that happened during the day. Then end the night sitting on her mom’s porch until Marcella finally told him it was time to go. He hadn’t thought of the good times with Shayla in years.

  As he approached her mom’s house he remembered his nurse, Lisa, complaining about Mr. Porter renting one of his homes to her. The main complaint was the assumption Shayla would have strange men parading through. That was unfounded. Shayla may be reckless, but she wasn’t a slut, or at least she hadn’t been.

  Dusk had settled, and the only illumination on Shayla’s street came from the old street lights. It was enough to see there were still a few people sitting on porches. His truck was well known, and by morning every gossip would know where he’d been. He could only imagine the speculation after he dropped her off. He pulled up to the small house she rented and cut the engine. If she was surprised he knew where she stayed she didn’t say anything.

  “I got it.” She said when he came around to help.

  Ignoring her, he took the crutches and helped her out of the truck. “I’ll help you inside then leave, alright.”

  She nodded and he assisted her up the stone steps. He frowned when she opened the old screen door and front door without a key. “You didn’t lock the door?”

  She hopped into the house before turning to face him. “I was only supposed to be gone for a half hour at most.”

  He sighed and shook his head. “Shayla, you lived in Atlanta, you should know better than to keep your door open.”

  She waved her hand. “This isn’t Atlanta.”

  “We still have criminals.” He looked over her shoulder. He could see most of the house and it didn’t appear as if anyone was there. Boxes were on the floor in the living room and kitchen, but he didn’t like leaving her there without knowing if things were secure. “Do you want me to check the house?”

  She laughed. “Really? Where would someone hide in this matchbox?” She tilted her head to the side and a teasing glint came to her eye. “Are you searching for an excuse to come inside?”

  She was only teasing him, but it didn’t register with his dick as it twitched at the implication. It had been too long since he’d had sex, something he’d have to remedy if he were to live with Shayla in the vicinity. Ignoring his long neglected libido, he stepped back. “I don’t want to come in, but I’ll wait in my truck for a few minutes. Flash the porch light if everything is clear.”

  She rolled her eyes and shook her head. “Man, you’re old fashioned. Good bye, Devin.”

  She closed the door and he ambled off the porch toward his truck. He got in and waited, wondering if she’d really flash the lights. Although he’d warned her about criminals, he doubted she had anything to worry about. Everyone knew everyone on this street, and even though there were a few less than savory people living in this part of town, no one would blatantly hurt her. Even so, he tapped his hands on the steering wheel when a few minutes passed and she hadn’t flashed the light. He reached for the handle to open the door and check on her, when the porch light flicked on then off. Feeling relieved, and foolish, he turned on his truck and sped off.

  Chapter 3

  The next morning Shayla woke up frowning. Her reunion with Devin went just as she’d expected. He’d clearly shown his disappointment and as usual, hadn’t let her off the hook for wrongdoing on her part. What was worse, his disappointment mirrored her own. Yes, Mark lied to her about his relationship with his wife, but he wasn’t the first cheating man to use that excuse. In the back of her mind she’d always questioned if he would really let his wife go. She knew he planned to run for senate; and intuition, more than her public relations experience, told her it would be easier if he ran with his wife at his side. But when she’d learned of their pending divorce, loneliness overran good sense. After years of ignoring Mark’s advances, she let herself entertain the thought of them together.

  She hadn’t lied when she told Devin she’d stayed with Mark because he was fun. From the moment she’d met him, he was charming and easy going. She may not have loved him, but she’d believed he loved her. It wouldn’t have been long before she would’ve eventually allowed herself to drop the shield around her heart and try to love him.

  With a disgusted grunt she got out of bed. She tested the pressure on her foot and was relieved that it didn’t hurt as badly as yesterday. Leaving the crutches where they were, she half walked, half hopped into the bathroom and flipped on the lights. Halfway through brushing her teeth she remembered the lack of a shower. With an eye roll, she turned on the water in the tub and finished brushing her teeth. Too impatient to wait on the tub to fill, she stopped the flow when there was enough water reached her calves. It wasn’t as if she could soak with her foot wrapped up anyway. A bath was good after a long day, but not as the sole source of cleanliness. One more reason to get the hell out of this house and this town.

  She dressed in a red and black sequin halter top and a pair of skinny jeans. Frowning at her wrapped foot, she opted out of matching heels, and slid on a pair of red flats before putting on a thin black leather jacket and leaving the house. Remembering Devin’s disapproval at her leaving the door unlocked, she made sure to lock it even though she was only going down the street to her mother’s. It was after eight thirty, so her mom would already have left for her job as a custodian at the high school. Hopefully she’d left her newspaper so Shayla could look through the classifieds. She had a laptop and an iPad, but of course neither Mr. Porter nor her mother had internet. So searching for a job the traditional way was what she was stuck with, unless she visited the Helena library and used one of the public computers.

  She hated having to drive the short distance, but didn’t want to draw more attention to herself limping down the street. She slid into
the driver’s seat of her Audi — thank goodness it wasn’t her driving foot that she’d hurt — backed out and drove to her mom’s house. She parked beside her brother’s old Toyota Camry.

  Her cell phone rang as she put her car in park. It was her friend Tasha. She ignored the call. She loved Tasha, but right now couldn’t face talking with her friend. Tasha knew about the scandal in Atlanta, but Shayla was still too embarrassed to discuss it with her. Tasha was the good person in her life who gave her friendship without judgment. But she didn’t think her newlywed friend could really hide her disappointment that Shayla had slept with a married man. Eventually, she’d have to make the drive to see Tasha. Sooner or later the heat from the rumors in Helena would get too close to her heart and she’d run to her friend in Columbia, just like she’d done when they were younger.

  She got out of the car and limped up the porch steps. She knocked on the screen, before opening it and turning the knob on the door. It was locked. With a sigh she rang the bell before banging on the door. After a few minutes of constant bell ringing and knocking, she finally heard the heavy footfalls of her brother in the house.

  “Who the hell is knocking on the damn door like the police?” He yelled as he swung the door open. His scowl turned into a look of exasperation when he saw her. “Shayla, why are you banging on the damn door? Ain’t you got a key?” He turned and headed back into the house.

  “As if Momma’s gonna give me a key.” She said following him.

  Their mom’s house hadn’t changed much in the years since she left. The living room furniture was new to her, but the thin spots in the flower pattern proved it was probably another second hand purchase. A plastic runner made a path from the living room to the kitchen and a matching one lead down the hall to the bedrooms. Pictures of her and Kenny from grade school adorned the wall and a curio cabinet overstuffed with inexpensive figurines. The smell of bacon filled the house and years of eating healthy were forgotten as she entered her mom’s kitchen. A plate of bacon sat on the old white stove, next to a pot of grits.

  Shayla walked over and turned off the stove. The grits were still smooth and her stomach growled as she breathed in the buttery smell. “Momma, forgot to turn off the stove.”

  Kenny plopped down in a chair at the kitchen table. He scratched his chin with one hand while pulling the black wave cap off his head. “She didn’t forget, she left it on so I’d have something to eat when I got up.”

  “I didn’t know you liked burned grits.” She said getting two bowls out of the cabinet.

  “Nah, Momma adds extra water before she leaves and turns it way down.”

  “If I remember correctly, you don’t get out of bed before noon. Even with extra water they’d be burned.” She spooned grits into both bowls and put them on the table before grabbing the plate of bacon and setting it down.

  Kenny laughed. “I got class this morning, that’s the only reason I’m up.”

  She cut her eyes at him. “Then why were you screaming at me for knocking on the door.”

  “I’m sitting in the bathroom minding my business and someone comes banging on the door. What would you do?”

  She grimaced. “Sorry I asked.” She looked in the fridge for some juice. The only thing in there was Kool-Aid and milk. She grabbed milk and two cups out of the dish drainer next to the sink before sitting down.

  Kenny held out his hand. “I need a spoon.”

  “I fixed your grits and brought you something to drink. The least you can do is get your own spoon.”

  He leaned back. “You need one, too.”

  She glared and he grinned. With an exasperated sigh she got up and took two spoons out of the dish rack. “Here, fool.” She said tossing his spoon on the table. He laughed and she sat down with a smile. “Man, you’re spoiled.”

  “No one to blame but you and Momma.”

  “Yeah, I know.” She said eating a spoonful of grits. She looked around the kitchen. “Did momma leave the paper?”

  He nodded. “Yeah, I had it in the bathroom; you want me to get it?”

  With an exaggerated cringe she shook her head. “That’s okay, I’ll go to the library later. I need to look for a job.”

  “What’s the rush? You took a pretty hard hit down there in Atlanta, take some time off. Relax and regroup before putting yourself out there again.” He said in between shoveling large spoonfuls of grits into his mouth.

  She raised an eyebrow. “What, you majoring in psychology now?”

  He grinned flashing even white teeth. Neither she nor her brother looked like their mother who was short, plump, and fair skinned. They both inherited height and chocolate skin from their dad. Shayla hadn’t seen her dad in years, but Kenny was a mirror image of the man. Bald head, thick build, and winning smile. Still, she was the child her mom resented.

  “Nah, just a suggestion. You out of money?”

  She shook her head. “No, I was smart enough to save, and Mr. Porter’s rent is much lower than what I paid in Atlanta. I just need to get the hell out of Helena.”

  Her brother frowned and put the spoon in his bowl. “Why you always hating on Helena? It ain’t so bad here.”

  She picked up and bit into a crispy slice of bacon. “Maybe to you, but I don’t have many good memories here.”

  He shook his head. “You didn’t have to leave town and become a wild child.”

  “I didn’t become a wild child.”

  “That’s what everyone round here was saying.”

  She slapped her spoon on the table. “That’s exactly why I left. People in this town feed off rumors. Where did this come from? All I know is that one day mom calls me at Spelman saying I’ve embarrassed her by going off to college and sleeping with every man who visited our campus.”

  Kenny’s brows came together in confusion. “Peaches visited you and met the two different guys you were dating. Then she told Momma about three other guys coming to your dorm when she was there.”

  Shayla sank back onto the seat. Peaches had been a part of her high school clique. There were six of them: Shayla, Devin, Tony, Jermaine, Peaches, and Roxanne. Devin, Tony, and Jermaine grew up beside each other and played football and basketball together since little league. She, Peaches, and Roxanne cheered together since junior high. High school social dynamics pulled the six together more than true friendship. She’d only considered Tasha her true friend after meeting her one summer at a cheerleading camp.

  Peaches had come to visit during her freshman year of college. It was true there were two guys interested in her at the time. But after escaping Tony and the relationship he’d forced on her, she hadn’t been interested in becoming tied to another guy.

  She wasn’t surprised Peaches lied. Their friendship had been more rivalry than anything. Each year they’d gone against each other for head cheerleader, Homecoming and Prom queen. Swapping wins every year. Peaches couldn’t stand not being the center of attention, so Shayla took pleasure in stealing some of her thunder. She’d even gone so far as to date a few guys that Peaches liked in high school. Not something she was proud of, and it didn’t help her reputation for being loose, but at the time it seemed fitting. It all seemed so silly now; being “friends” with someone you didn’t like much.

  “Peaches lied, I had a few guy friends, but I wasn’t doing everything she apparently led you all to believe.”

  Kenny shrugged. Her brother rarely passed judgment on others. A shrug and an “oh well” were as far as he’d go into anyone else’s drama. “You know how things go. She came back blabbing, and everyone ate it up.” He finished off his glass of milk before standing. “You can take it up with her later. Last night she and Roxanne came by looking for you.”

  She sputtered in the middle of drinking her milk. “What? Why?”

  He laughed. “Why do you think? To see you. I think they want t
o have a party to welcome you back.”

  She got a napkin out of the holder on the table and wiped up the milk. “Only they would have a party to welcome back someone who came home in disgrace.”

  “Either way, they said they were coming by again today to see you.” He leaned against the door jamb and crossed his beefy arms. “I see you already reconnected with Devin.”

  Just as she suspected, the gossips were on patrol the night before. “We didn’t reconnect. I was jogging and fell. He saw it and helped me out.”

  He looked at her foot. “So that’s why you’re limping. I wondered.”

  She raised a brow. “Why didn’t you ask?”

  “Figured you’d tell me eventually.” He pushed away from the door. “Tell Devin I said ‘what’s up’ when you see him.”

  “I won’t be seeing him.”

  “Why not, the band’s back together now.” He said laughing as he turned to go down the hall. “I gotta get ready for class.”

  Shayla picked up her spoon and played with the remaining grits in the bowl. The band was back together. It’s funny how she hadn’t thought about Peaches or Roxanne in years. After Peaches’s one visit freshman year, she’d hadn’t kept in contact with her. At the time, she hadn’t wanted the visit from Peaches, who was a reminder of all she’d lost and all she wanted to get away from. After Peaches’s visit, she had reached out and called Devin, but he’d said Peaches told him she’d moved on and he hoped for her sake she knew what she was doing. She hadn’t called him again. Seeing him in Atlanta a year ago was the first time she’d laid eyes on him in years, and of course it had to be when she was with Mark.

  She put her elbows on the table and dropped her head in her hands. She was destined to always look bad in front of him. It would be so much easier to take if he’d grown into a fat, ugly toad. Instead he looked even better than he had in high school. Now his bronze skin covered the sculpted muscles of a man, not a boy. He had his own practice and from what she’d learned, everyone in town loved him. He became a pillar of society, and she became a tainted woman.