Road to Love (Lessons in Love Book 1)

by Nicole Falls

  “What?” I asked.

  “My plan worked, didn't it? You and your prison pen pal are back on, aren't you?” Nat asked, laughing.

  “You are a pure asshole you know that, Brat?”

  “A lovable one, though. And you're deflecting, which means I was right.”

  “Whateva, man. Rich, you ready?”

  “Nigga if you don't get in the booth! We been waiting on you!”

  I'd actually been looking forward to the session tonight as we had reworked one of my favorite songs of all time, Stevie Wonder's “Knocks Me Off My Feet” to just be me and my piano. I'd recorded the piano track earlier today, now all that was left to lay down the vocal track. I loved singing this song, especially when it got near the end and I was able to really let loose and riff, run, and do all sorts of crazy vocal acrobatics. This was actually the first song I taught myself to play on the little Casio keyboard I had back in the day. The Songs in the Key of Life album was our Saturday morning cleaning soundtrack, and from the first time I heard it, this song just drew me in. It was classic Stevie, a smooth mid-tempo jam with a soaring vocal.

  For this version, Rich and I decided that I would start out singing acapella through the first verse and then the piano track would come in behind me by the time I got to first “I don't wanna bore...” of the chorus, the piano track would come in, fading out again when I got into the second verse then coming back for the second chorus. At first, I was a little nervous about what he was describing and how it would sound, but he played me a track he'd cut with someone else that followed the same fade pattern and the shit sounded fresh. I stepped into the booth and sang it straight, then did a few other takes layering harmonies and adding adlibs, putting my own spin on the classic tune.

  Fewer things compared to the freedom I felt when performing. It was almost like I was transported to another realm; the forces of the outside world were of no consequence to me. Only thing I was worried about was sliding along the scales, bending notes to my will and creating new and powerful aural sensations that moved people beyond a simple head nod. For me, music was a means of communication—my way of making my mark on the world, literally making my voice heard. This was why not being able to pop while in LA was particularly deflating. For so long I was secure in my message, my vision, my music, but for it not to be seen by the folks who I held up as arbiters of cool? That shit stung more than I cared to admit aloud. But through my private lessons and the kids I touched in the elementary school that I taught, I was able to still put my voice out there in some small way. And for a while that was enough, until it wasn't. Then MaDear's health made a turn for the worst, so trying to find fulfillment in music again was placed on the backburner once again.

  “I’m bored,” Emerson whined, “Why in the world did I think it was a smart idea to come to Ragston for six weeks? It’s barely been two and I’m ready to bounce, but I committed to this stupid reunion this weekend.”

  “You could always come down here and visit for a little bit,” I offered, “Come hang out with me while I finish up the EP. See the city a lil bit. You did say it’s been a while since you’ve been down here. Might as well come to see what you can see. Unless Mama Grace won’t approve.”

  “Shut up!” Emerson laughed, “She’s not that bad.”

  Emerson’s older sister was a trip. I thought she was a piece of work when Emerson saved me from the side of the road, but that was just the tip of the iceberg. Emerson told me that she was super overprotective after she found out about how Emerson’s ex did her dirty. Sounded to me like she didn’t trust her baby sister’s judgment, but I didn’t dare say that to Emerson and start World War III. Instead, I stuck to admittedly petty jokes about her sister’s bulldog nature.

  “To you,” I replied, laughing.

  “Whatever, are you serious about me coming down there though? Because I honestly could use a break before this reunion this weekend.”

  “Come on down then!”

  “Okay.”

  “Yeah?” I asked.

  “Mmmhmm, I just pulled up Expedia to see if I can find a flight and hotel deal now.”

  “Yo, you are serious?”

  “Whaaaat?! I told you I was bored. You offered, I have no alternate plans, so I’m saying yes.”

  “Aight, but you buggin. Find a flight, and you know you have somewhere to stay.”

  “I didn’t want to presume…”

  “Well, let me be clear, Emerson. I am inviting you down here to come stay in my crib and spend some time with me. So, are you still interested?”

  “Absolutely.”

  At the risk of sounding too eager, I asked, “how soon do you plan on coming down? And for how long?”

  I knew that her high school reunion was happening on the upcoming weekend and though she was somewhat iffy on attending, I knew that she would definitely want to make sure she was in attendance all three days. One thing that I was learning about Emerson was that she was in the midst of transition, blossoming from being a rule follower to someone who lived life on their own terms, not as rigid and definitely not opposed to bending the rules to ensure that life was being lived to the fullest.

  “Is tomorrow too soon?”

  That was definitely not an answer I was expecting.

  “Not at all, sweetheart.”

  “Do you have a preference as to which airport I fly into? I know you Chicago folks can get real particular about airport pickups.”

  “You tell me where you’re landing, and I’ll be sure to get there, how about that?”

  “All right.”

  “Man, you're really acquiescent right now. Will that trend continue into your trip?”

  “Maaaaybe,” Emerson sang.

  “Aight, I gotta run, but text me the details of your flight later, okay?”

  “Will do. Bye, Roosevelt.”

  “Later.”

  I got off of the phone and looked over at the clock to see how much time I had left before it would be time for me to leave the house before my afternoon appointment. I had zero desire to actually keep this appointment, but if MaDear and Pops impressed nothing else upon me, it was always to be a man of my word, even if I agreed to something under duress. Pops used to say, “You got free will, you always have the power to say no.” Sometimes, however, life presented you with situations in which saying no was virtually impossible—like this likely to be uncomfortable situation I found myself in today.

  Yesterday afternoon I got a call from a number I didn’t readily recognize. I usually let those calls roll to voicemail, but something inside of me was urging me to answer this specific call. The voice on the other end was one I hadn’t heard in years but recognized instantly. It was my mother, calling to ask me to meet her for lunch. My first instinct was to say hell no, but then I remembered MaDear’s last plea and agreed to meet with her. I insisted on meeting for coffee instead of lunch, not wanting to spend more time in her presence than necessary. I had to admit; I was curious about what she had to say for herself, which was the only reason I accepted the invite. Now, however, that curiosity seemed misguided and foolish. She’d made her choice, abandoning her child and there was nothing she could say to me now that would justify it. But on the other hand, just like with the music, I could deny MaDear anything in life, so most assuredly not in death either.

  When I got to Perk, Alice was already there, sitting with a ceramic coffee mug clutched between her hands like a safety blanket. Instead of walking directly to her, I went to the counter and ordered a decaffeinated green tea. Despite picking the spot, I completely neglected to remember that I was reducing my caffeine intake while I was recording. Caffeine was horrible on my vocal chords, something I’d nearly forgotten about. That first couple days in the studio was rough, but I’d since learned my lesson and reincorporated all of my former habits to ensure I was taking care of my favorite instrument. I took my time sweetening the tea before finally sitting down across from Alice. I plopped down in the seat across from her, bracing
my forearms on the small table. She looked as if she wanted to reach out and touch me briefly before opting for a sweet, small, polite smile.

  “Thank you, for coming,” she said in a voice just above a whisper, “I know I have no right to even ask for this audience, but I’m glad you’ve granted it.

  I had to laugh at her formality. She sounded like she was addressing Congress or something. Beyond the chuckle, I said nothing, just sat there and sipped my tea. Alice drew in a deep breath and began speaking again.

  “I’m sure you’re wondering what it is I have to say and why I’ve asked you here today. The truth is, son, I’m here because your grandmother was right. This estrangement has gone on long enough, and I’m here to extend an olive branch to you. You’re my only child, Roosevelt and I’ve missed out on the majority of your life because I was a coward. Your daddy was dead wrong for how he handled you, and I should have said something more. I shouldn’t have let him just put you out, baby.”

  I almost choked on my tea because that definitely was not what I was expecting. I remembered my mother to be a pretty timid woman, easy to go along with whatever my father said, respecting her man as head of household. That she hadn’t spoken up back then was no surprise to me, mother or not she blindly followed my father’s decisions no matter what. I wonder what gave her courage all of a sudden.

  “I messed up, son. I can’t even put all of the fault on your daddy because you were my son, too. I failed you by not speaking up for your right to be curious, even if that led you to a path that was different from our own. Jehovah God is the only one with the power of judgment and if even He doesn’t judge his children then who am I to do so?”

  “No offense, but isn’t it a little too late for you to be coming to these conclusions? It’s been nearly twenty years of radio silence,” I said, tempering my voice to keep it from trembling with anger, “Why now? What is it? Are you dying? And this is your last-ditch effort to make amends with everyone you’ve ever wronged in life?”

  If a chestnut brown woman could have turned sheet white, Alice would have at that moment. Her entire face blanched and her lips pursed as if she’d just taken a bite of lemon. The hurt on her face was plain as day, and I gained no joy from knowing I put it there.

  “Rose—” Alice started.

  “Sorry, that was…I didn’t…I’m sorry.”

  “Your anger is justified, son.”

  “But that level of disrespect isn’t, and I was raised better than that, so again, I apologize. Sincerely.”

  Alice chuckled at that last petty jab about being raised better than I couldn’t help but throw. Her chuckle faded into a sad smile before she continued speaking, “Unfortunately, you weren’t far off from the truth.”

  Immediately my heart constricted in my chest. Not only had I just lost the only maternal figure in my life, but now the one who was always supposed to be there was about to be taken away from me too? Ain’t that about a bitch?

  “You’re…” I choked out, unable to finish the sentence; as if saying it aloud would make her keel over right in front of me.

  “No!” Alice exclaimed, reaching out to clutch my forearm, “I…last year there was a scare, some spots on my pancreas. Luckily turned out to be benign, but in that time before I knew my fate I did a lot of thinking and a lot of praying. And you know what my prayer led me to? Seeking forgiveness. I made amends with your grandmother before she passed, thankfully, and she urged me to make an effort to do the same with you. But I was afraid, that it was too late, that you didn’t want or need me in your life, you know?”

  “This is…this is a lot right now. I…I gotta get outta here,” I said, abruptly interrupting her little speech. I’d heard enough and needed some time to process and decompress the information. I don’t know what I expected coming in here, but this certainly was not it.

  “Roosevelt, please!” she cried, grabbing ahold of my arm before I could walk off.

  I shook her arm off while shaking my head at the same time.

  “I can’t do this shit right now. I need to get out of here.”

  And with those words, I walked out of Perk. With no real destination in mind, I passed my car in favor of keeping moving. My mind was racing right now, emotions at war with one another. I wasn’t sure how I felt right now, but I knew that I needed to clear my mind before engaging with Alice again. I’d walked for a few blocks when my phone dinged with a text. It was Emerson, sending me her flight information—the perfect distraction. I responded to her confirming that I would be there to pick her up when she landed. Emerson coming to town would be the perfect distraction while I actively avoided working through the emotional wreckage that was my life right now. I pocketed my phone and reversed field, making my way back towards where my car was parked.

  My text tone chimed once again, and I pulled it out, expecting a smart response from Emerson. Instead, there was a text from Alice pleading with me to give her a call once I’d gotten past my shock. I cleared the notification without replying, leaving my “mother” on read. I just wasn’t ready to engage with that whole situation in any way right now. I needed some time, and she would just have to understand that.

  In the meantime, I needed to get home and straighten up my place because Emerson would be landing bright and early tomorrow morning and if she walked into my house in its current state right now? It would be curtains for anything I had planned. A quick trip to the grocery store on the way home to stock some essentials and then it was home to tidy up, so Emerson wouldn't think I was a total slob. Then I planned on catching whatever game was on tonight.

  “I can't believe you're abandoning me to go off gallivanting with some ax murderer,” Grace said, strolling into the room as I laid out my clothes for the quick trip down to visit Roosevelt.

  We needed this, Grace and I, a bit of space; some time apart because I'd only been home for about ten days, but she was already super freakin' close to tap dancing on my last nerve. I loved my big sister, honestly and sincerely, but she still saw me as little Emerson who needed her to wipe my nose and hold my hand when crossing the street. Between being overbearing and steadily trying to push the issue with my dad, I just needed a Grace time out. I was so grateful to her and Ted for letting me come chill at their place, but I definitely didn't think this through. I was so pressed to leave behind the bullswanky that was my life in L.A. that I didn't even take into account the mess I'd left in Ragston that needed to be sorted out.

  “Roosevelt isn't an ax murderer, Grace,” I replied, drolly.

  “Seriously though, this guy...are you sure this is the right move right now?”

  “I'm going to visit a friend, nothing more; nothing less.”

  “That sparkle in your eye whenever you're talking to or texting with him lets me know that friendship isn't the only thing that's what with you two. I thought you said you were taking it easy on the relationship front after everything that went down with Bobby.”

  “Grace, please.”

  “I'm just saying, Nay. Be careful out here. You don't have much experience, and some fast talkin' man could easily take advantage of you.”

  “This is rich coming from the woman who married her high school sweetheart and is currently still living in the town they both grew up in, having never left it for an extended amount of time.”

  “Living in L.A. didn't preclude you from getting your heart ripped out by a no-good nigga, so I don't get your point here?” Grace snapped.

  “You know what? I...I'm gonna just drive myself down to Detroit tonight. I don't need you to take me to the airport in the morning, Grace. I'll just stay overnight and then park my car at the airport because I'm not doing this with you right now. I can't.”

  “I was just trying to have a simple discussion with you before you got on the defensive. But it's cool.”

  “No, what you were actually doing was passive-aggressively gaslighting me, but yeah you're right. It is cool, sis. I'll see you when I get back,” I said, haphazardly throwing th
ings into my bag.

  I'd had most everything organized for my trip, so hopefully, I wasn't leaving anything behind, but I had to get out of this house. I'd opened my big mouth about driving myself to Detroit to the airport, but I honestly didn't even want to deal with the stress of parking at an unfamiliar airport. I didn't even know if they had valet or any of the comforts I was used to at LAX and I didn't even feel like trying to figure that out currently. Instead, I hurried out of the house to just plop down on the swing outside while I gathered my bearings.

  “Bo Bemmy, what's goodie?”

  I looked up to see Rocki at the end of Grace's driveway. I must've looked miserable because she remarked, “That bad huh?” as she walked up the driveway and plopped down next to me on the porch swing.

  “Trouble in paradise again?”

  “Not at all, actually. I'm going down to Chicago to hang out with Roosevelt. My flight's tomorrow.”

  “Wait, you're ditching the reunion?” Rocki asked incredulously.

  “No! I'll be back on Friday. I just...Grace and I need a little space. That's why I'm out here, actually. She and I just got into it once again. So instead of her dropping me off in the morning, I'm just gonna drive up to Detroit tonight and leave my car there.”

  “What? Girl, no, absolutely not! Come on,” Rocki said, grabbing my arm, “You can come to my folks' place. We've got plenty of room and Seth shouldn't need the rental for any reason, so I can totally drop you off. It'll be our chance to make up for all of those missed sleepovers from our childhood. It'll be fun!”

  Once again, I allowed myself to be carried away by someone else's enthusiasm and agreed. I slung my bag over my shoulder and followed Rocki down the steps.

  “What the heck are you doing out here at this time anyway?” I asked.

  It wasn't super late, just before nine at night, but save she and I, the streets were clear of folks being out and about. It was a little jarring when I first returned, to see the streets so empty so early. I was used to my small neighborhood in Long Beach that always had people milling about at odd hours.