Forgivin' Ain't Forgettin'

by Mata Elliott

“I was scheduled to sit for Trevor’s girls this evening,” Odessa said.

  A smile filled Cassidy, and she flaunted it on her face. “I’d be happy to take care of the girls. Brandi and Brittney are extremely nice.” Cassidy remembered their father and could think of nothing pleasant to say about him, or his overactive cat, in the corner right now, chasing her tail.

  “That’s not what I need you to do,” Odessa clarified. “You see, originally, Trevor’s sister, Penny, was supposed to go with him to a banquet tonight. But just after you left, she called and said she was still sick. So Trevor invited me to go with him.” Odessa yawned, and the wrinkles in her face bunched. “Certainly, I suggested he go with someone closer to his age. I even told him I could fix him up with one of the sisters from our church. But he insisted I was his choice, that I deserved a night out on the town. I think that was very sweet of him.” She looked at Cassidy, as if waiting for her to agree.

  Lena gave her vote. “That was sweet of him, Mother Vale.”

  Odessa smiled. “Yes, I do think—”

  Cassidy’s voice cut in, “Can we stick to the main street, please?”

  Odessa shrugged. “Like Penny, I won’t be able to attend this evening. I simply don’t feel up to it. So I thought youcould accompany Trevor in my place. It would be so sad for him to go alone,” she said with graveside soberness.

  “Amen,” Lena punctuated, and bit back a smile.

  Cassidy tossed her tablemates a glare as potent as the lingering aroma of the breakfast bacon Odessa had oven-fried.

  “Trevor most likely would have had Brenda by his side, but . . . well . . .” Odessa’s voice disappeared.

  Lena guided a spoon of pink to her mouth. “It must be difficult to do things solo, after you’ve adapted to doing them as a couple.”

  Cassidy considered herself as humanitarian as the next person, but why should she be the one to pay the bill for Trevor’s singleness? Gathering her jumbled wits at the same time that she cooled a rising temper, she succeeded in speaking without a trace of the hysteria roaring within. “I’m sure Trevor could get one of his girlfriends to go with him.”

  “Trevor doesn’t have girlfriends,” Odessa piped, seemingly without doubt.

  “That’s not the way it looked last Friday night. I saw Trevor holding Rave, right outside this house.” Cassidy had told Lena the following day. Odessa looked as skeptical as Lena had. “I know what I saw,” Cassidy argued. “Rave was stuck to Trevor like an adhesive strip.”

  Lena licked her spoon clean. “Maybe the woman just looked like Rave. Anyway, Rave doesn’t seem to be all that interested in Trevor anymore. Remember, she admitted as much at Brenda’s funeral. I didn’t believe her then, but she really does seem to have her sights set elsewhere.”

  “Lena’s right,” Odessa said. “Trevor hasn’t dated Rave or anyone.”

  Cassidy held her mouth open. She finally formed the words. “You mean you’ve been all up in the man’s love life?”

  “I told him you weren’t seeing anyone, either, and it wouldn’t be a problem for you to go with him tonight.”

  Lena howled with amusement as Cassidy blurted, “My personal affairs are none of Trevor’s business.” She pushed away from the table but remained in her seat, her arms crossed in rebellion as she drummed her fingers just above her elbows. “What makes you think he would wantto go with me?”

  Odessa’s response was matter-of-fact. “He said it was fine with him.”

  Anxiety stewed in the pit of Cassidy’s stomach, and she bit on her thumbnail as the memory of last night burned on her brain. The pores in her skin had tingled with responsiveness the moment Trevor pried his hand between hers and the cup. Cassidy had wanted to be furious with him for taking such a liberty, but anger had not come, and she had pondered why until falling asleep. “What about you?” she addressed Lena. “An evening out with Trevor would be a dream come true for you.”

  “Girl, you ain’t wrong. I would love to take this tour of duty. But I have a date with Dondre tonight.” Lena winked.

  “I would make a much better babysitter than a . . .” Cassidy didn’t know what to call it. An escort . . . a date . . . a companion. These terms all left a bitter taste in her mouth.

  “Pastor Audrey’s Natasha will be doing the babysitting,” Odessa said.

  “There you go.” Cassidy clapped once. “Natasha could go with Trevor, and I’ll watch the kids.”

  Lena frowned. “Natasha’s only fourteen.”

  “A big one,” Odessa incorporated, “but only fourteen.”

  Cassidy knew that, but she was grabbing at every straw. She sighed, in dire need of some sensible excuse, because she was going down fast. “I don’t have anything to wear.”

  Lena popped to her feet. “If we get started now, we’ll have time to hunt for something at the mall.”

  Cassidy stayed defiantly put. She gazed steadily across the table at Odessa. Her aunt’s features were overcast and distant, and Cassidy began to wonder if Odessa was feeling worse than she’d admitted. Maybe Odessa really did need her. It was only right for her to be there when her aunt was in a crisis. Odessa had made so many sacrifices for her over the years, never with complaint. Not once had Odessa scolded her for giving up her Tilden scholarship and returning to the city with no explanation other than she missed home.

  Cassidy gave the matter more thought. Time alone with Trevor could prove advantageous. She still wanted to tell him how much she hated the way he was always sneaking up on her and how much of an irritant his early morning shower singing was and that she’d appreciate it if he’d leave the toilet seat down, in addition to a list of other complaints she’d cataloged in her head.

  “Okay,” she decided. Determination held Cassidy’s face firm as she strutted from the room. “I’ll go with him.”

  chapter twelve

  Lena hugged Cassidy. “Don’t worry. It’s going to be a perfect night.”

  Cassidy thought about it.Ona perfect night, she would be spending this tranquil, dusk-colored evening sprawled on her bed, absorbed in a good sci-fi read, dressed in sweats and a T-shirt. On a perfect night, she would be barefoot as a newborn instead of jammed into black high-heeled footwear. She had to settle for size 81/2 shoes because the store was out of 9s and they had run out of time.

  Before leaving the bedroom, Cassidy took one last glimpse in the mirror, checking the hair she’d upswept to capture a look of elegance. The makeup Lena helped her apply looked great, and she approved of the tips Lena put on her nails.

  Despite sore feet, Cassidy rushed down the steps, less than exuberant about going out with Trevor. She merely wanted to get the whole evening over with. She was already sorry she’d agreed to go. As soon as she walked into the living room, those dark eyes of Trevor’s began appraising with quiet intensity. The man was at least six feet away, yet she felt as if he’d put his hands on her in a warm, gentle way. How he did it, she couldn’t imagine.

  “Cassidy,” he breathed more than spoke. Pleasure and praise gathered in his eyes.

  Cassidy smiled lightly. Although she knew she looked good, it was nice he thought so, too.

  Odessa, watching with all the interest she invested in her favorite Court TV show, folded her hands at her chest as if the moment were sacred. “Oh, sweetheart, you look like a princess.”

  “Thank you.” Cassidy spoke softly, placed a light kiss on Odessa’s cheek, and turned toward Trevor. Now that he was up on her, she detected his cologne. It had become as familiar as the scent of the body wash that engulfed the bathroom after he showered. She looked him over. He was faultlessly dressed in black leather shoes and a blacker suit. Beneath it he wore a light gray shirt and a gray tie, a color that made his eyes appear more attractively darker, and Cassidy almost forgot she didn’t like him.

  Trevor escorted Cassidy to the car, checking her out as much as he could without being obvious. She was arrayed in a short-sleeved straight black dress that squared at her collarbone and circled above her an
kles and lightly cuddled her curves. There was a string of silver looping her neck, and a teardrop pearl dangled from the chain. He thought the jewel looked like a tiny ship on a sea of chocolate silk. Before clicking the car lock with the handheld opener, he attempted to catch Cassidy’s attention, but she refused him, her eyes darting somewhere beyond his shoulder. It suddenly struck him that perhaps she was more naturally shy than purposely aloof, and an ache to know more about her dawned deep in his inner man.

  He opened the car door, taking pride in his last-minute decision to go to his house and get the Maxima that once belonged to Brenda. As beautifully as Cassidy was dressed this evening, he would have hated to ask her to climb up into his SUV. When she was seated, he leaned in and guided the seat belt around her, moving so deftly there was no time for protest.

  “Comfortable?” he asked.

  “Yes,” was her answer, yet she sat twisting the cord of her black beaded purse, revealing she was not at all comfortable with the proximity of their heads.

  Trevor stepped back, then came forward, bringing their heads even closer this time as he welcomed the fragrance of her perfume. “I disagree with your aunt.” Their gazes locked. “You don’t look like a princess.” He retreated and pushed the door, letting it shut with a resounding thud.

  Cassidy’s mouth was still open like a doughnut hole as Trevor filled the driver’s seat. Her eyes shot missiles of extreme dislike, and although he didn’t know Cassidy well, he knew that she would have unleashed a storm of remarks if he had not hurried and said, “You look more beautiful than any princess I’ve ever seen.” He retrieved a package from beneath his seat and piloted it toward his passenger.

  Her unsteady hand paused in the air before grasping the edge of the gift. She peeled away two layers of pink wrapping, and her gaze met his. “Music,” she said.

  “I’ve noticed you keep classical on the radio, and I thought you might like to listen to it during the drive. It’s a peace offering, too. I really am sorry about walking in on you in the bathroom.”

  She had a smile in her tone. “You do have a way of suddenly appearing.”

  “Maybe I should get a bell like Poopie’s.”

  She chuckled, and he smiled with her. As they departed Pomona Street, a blend of wind and string instruments permeated the car’s interior. Cassidy exhaled. “I like this song.”

  Trevor liked the long lovely leg smiling up at him through the knee-to-ankle split in Cassidy’s dress. He fought to keep his eyes on the street and off of Cassidy’s sheer nylons.

  Moments later, Trevor avoided a pothole, a swift dagger of guilt piercing him where it hurt most—his heart. What is wrong with me? he wanted to shout. He shouldn’t be admiring Cassidy’s legs. Brenda’s legs were the only legs he should be thinking of.

  “Yo! Coach Monroe!” LaKell Biltmore called. He and several members of Trevor’s team, including Derek, dressed in the new suit, shirt, tie, and shoes Trevor had bought him, rushed toward him as he walked through a sparkling glass door into the hotel lobby. Trevor grinned, feeling especially proud of how mature Derek looked. He introduced the youngsters to Cassidy, and she politely said hello, then excused herself and headed for the ladies’ lounge.

  “We ain’t know you had a girlfriend, Coach.” Thirteen-year-old LaKell, slightly taller than Derek’s six-foot figure, elbowed Trevor.

  “Yeah,” Derek said, “I thought I knew everything about you.”

  Trevor set them straight. “Well, you don’t. And I don’t have a girlfriend, not that it’s any of your business.”

  “Then who is she?” The question rang from Keon Carmichael, also thirteen, and cleaner tonight than Trevor had ever seen him.

  “She goes to my church,” was all he supplied.

  “She looks good, Coach,” LaKell stated, as if his stamp of approval were required.

  Derek asked the circle, “Why can’t I meet fine sistas like that?”

  “’Cause you ain’t nuttin’ but a lit’l boy.”

  “I’m older than your ugly-mugly rump.” Derek and LaKell exchanged jabs not intended to do any harm.

  “Chill, fellas,” Trevor urged. “Remember we agreed you’d try civilized behavior for one evening.”

  The boys obeyed, and Trevor excused himself so he could go and say hello to one of the sponsors of tonight’s affair. Once he gave the boys his back and began walking away, LaKell called out, “Make sure we get an invitation to the wedding, Coach.”

  “Make sure I’m the best man,” Derek yelled through their snickers.

  Trevor never turned to look at them. He did not want them to see the blush on his face.

  The ceremony began promptly at seven with the singing of the national anthem, followed by the black national anthem. After an applause-drawing welcome address by one of the youngest players in the league, a comedian kept the audience in hysterics until dinner was served. At the conclusion of the main course, they came to the crux of the ceremony: the presenting of the awards. Cassidy clapped and cheered with the others as the youngsters proudly strutted forward to claim their trophies and medals. She even applauded heartily when Trevor’s name was read as one of the contenders for Coach of the Year, and the boys on his team jumped up, whooping and clapping.

  “I didn’t know you were a nominee,” Cassidy whispered. He smiled, a shy kind of smile that had her pulse beating between rapid and life-threatening, and she quickly turned back to the podium. Trevor did not win, and Cassidy did not know how she was going to survive the night if he kept smiling at her.

  “You look as if you’re having a nice time,” he said as the last of the awards were presented.

  If Cassidy were responsible for grading the event up to this point, she’d give it a big red A. “Yes, I am having a nice time,” she replied. She smiled, and decided she would wait until morning to voice the list of complaints she had written on a piece of paper and stuck in her purse. Surprisingly, Trevor had been the perfect gentleman, and he had taken her musical flavor into account. She was actually looking forward to the drive home when she would be able to listen to the remainder of her new CD. Cassidy reached for her water glass and shared a pleasant glance with Trevor. Tonight she would be an ideal escort, but first thing tomorrow, she would have a talk with Mr. Monroe. There were some things he needed to do differently if he was going to remain under her roof.

  “This has really been nice.” Lydia Rodriguez popped the morsel of white-chocolate cheesecake that had fallen next to her empty dessert plate between her lips.

  Everyone at the round dining table nodded and grinned in agreement with Lydia, except for Rave. Her evening had been dismal. She was at the right table, but with the wrong man. Rave cast her gaze beyond the floating-candle centerpiece and observed the pair across from her. She didn’t know what to make of something she’d witnessed earlier. After Trevor was announced as a candidate for Coach of the Year, Cassidy whispered in his ear, and though a smile curved his lips, it was his eyes that leaked the story. They sparkled with the stardust of a man in the early stages of falling in love.

  Kregg murmured close to her head, “Everything all right, babe?”

  Rave laid her hand atop Kregg’s and smiled into his eyes. “Everything’s wonderful as long as you’re by my side.” They shared a light kiss.

  “Break it up, you two,” Shelby McNeil advised. “We have minors in here.”

  “And they’re doing a lot more,” Eduardo Rodriguez pointed out. Several tables away, two teenagers were kissing as if they were the only ones in the room. “I better go cool ’em off.” Eduardo lifted the water pitcher, earning laughs from the others at the table.

  “Give me that, Eddie.” Lydia took the pitcher from her husband, and he strode toward the kissing teens.

  A section of the large ballroom had been reserved for dancing. The whoop of a DJ and the commanding sound of hip-hop sent teens flying from their chairs to the dance floor. Dimmed lights gave the room a club effect as the music screamed.

  “Whose
idea was this?” Lydia rested her forearms on the tablecloth and leaned forward to be heard.

  Kregg thumped his fingers on the table to the beat of the music. He spoke extra loud like Lydia. “The planning committee thought the kids would enjoy it.”

  “I’m enjoying it, too.” Rave wiggled to standing. The maroon silk clinging to her skin revealed shoulders and back to the waist. A slit running from ankle to center thigh exposed leg exactly the way she liked it. Licking her lipstick-layered lips and smoothing her hands over her figure, she fantasized about how it would feel to kiss Trevor while his hands became acquainted with her body.

  Rave’s heart turned cold. If her ice pick stunt had played out the way it should have, she wouldn’t have to imagine. Maybe she should have stabbed two tires. At least she would have gotten to spend a little more time with the man she desired more than life.

  She looked into the stare of her date. She made sure everyone at the table could hear her. “How about dancing with the sexiest female in attendance?”

  Kregg kissed her palm. “Lead the way.”

  chapter thirteen

  Rave and Kregg disappeared inside the crowd of dancers, and Derek approached the table. As Cassidy peered at the young man’s face, an arctic tongue licked her spine, and she hugged herself, chasing the icy sensation away.

  “You senior citizens havin’ a good time?” A glowing smile followed Derek’s question.

  “I’m having a great time.” Chantalle Williams, the coach of a girls’ basketball team, straightened her dress as she stood. “Let’s go dance.”

  Derek’s eyes bulged as if to say that he couldn’t believe a grown woman wanted to dance with him. He swaggered as he escorted Chantalle across the room, nodding at the other boys who looked equally perplexed by Derek’s good fortune.

  Lydia smiled. “This takes me back. Remember how we used to party, Eddie?”

  Leaning back in his seat, Eduardo grinned.

  “Would you care to relive old times?” she asked.

  “Lydia, I think my gyratin’ days are over.”