Yield to Love

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Yield to Love Page 6

by Chanta Jefferson Rand


  Roque followed Jenny down a familiar hallway he knew by heart. Every piece of artwork, every chip in the putty-colored wall, even the spot on the floor where the tile was uneven were familiar to him. He’d been coming for years. Nothing changed here, except the occasional staff member. He liked it that way. Predictability soothed him. Especially when it came to his sister. He liked knowing the same people were taking care of her.

  “She seems to be doing much better,” Jenny informed him. “The psychiatrist said she’s making progress.”

  He nodded. Years ago, before he could afford something so grand as this, his sister was languishing away in a halfway house. He was glad to see this place was making a difference.

  He spotted her before she saw him. He stood at the entrance to the recreation room while he watched his sister, Raven, from afar. Descended from German and black parents, she’d inherited more of their father’s Afro-Caribbean roots. In her youth she’d been a beautiful woman. Today, her dark curls were unruly. Her brown eyes had faint half crescents beneath them. And her olive skin had an ashen pallor. His sister was a shell of her former self.

  Roque strode toward her, navigating his way past metal folding chairs scattered around a variety of game tables.

  She looked up as he approached. A light shone through the dullness in her eyes. A faint smile lifted the corners of her lips. “Roque, so good to see you. It’s been a while.”

  He bent down to hug her while she remained seated in an armchair. “I’ve been busy.”

  He felt guilty about not visiting her all this time. He just couldn’t stand to see her like this. Couldn’t stand to be in an environment with people like this. He took the empty seat next to her.

  “How are you doing, sis?”

  “Not bad. Still not a day goes by that I don’t miss him.”

  By ‘him’ Raven was referring to her deceased son who’d died tragically of a brain aneurism over ten years ago. A year after his death, she started going crazy. She refused to get rid of any of his clothes. She’d go shopping and buy clothes in his size, in the style that reminded her of him. Soon, her entire home was filled with boys clothing, toys, and things she thought he would like. And when she ran out of money, she started stealing things. That’s how she ended up in jail. A psychological evaluation determined she was suffering from Depression. No one knew how bad it was, until the bank was about to foreclose on her home. Roque went to the house and saw the mess. His sister had turned into a hoarder. That’s how he knew about the devastating effects of hoarding. If he would have noticed the signs before, he could have helped her. That’s why he was so insistent that Marlowe clear her mother’s house out. He knew firsthand how bad hoarding could be.

  “Is there anything I can do for you?” he asked.

  “You’re a good brother, Roque. But you can only help people who want to be helped.”

  “You don’t want to be helped?”

  “I’m going to heal when I’m ready and not before then. You can’t force someone to heal. Especially when death is involved. It’s a process that takes time.”

  Roque wondered how much more time Raven would need. She’d been in here for almost five years. But as long as he was alive, he would always take care of her. For the next hour, he gave his sister his most valuable commodity—his time. They reminisced over old times, and for a while, he had his kid sister back again. It was just like when they were growing up together and they shared all of their secrets. Before the sickness took over her life.

  “And how’s my little niece doing?” Raven asked.

  “Jade is fine. You know with her it’s a battle of wills. There are days when I feel like I’m losing. She’s growing into a young lady, and I’m trying my best to get her through life. What she really needs is a female role model.”

  “She has you. You’re the only role model she needs.”

  “I appreciate that.”

  “She still have all those animals?”

  Roque chuckled. “Yeah, but she had a minor setback a few days ago.”

  "What happened?”

  “One of her pets was killed.”

  “How?”

  “It was an accident. Marlowe didn’t mean to do it, but Jade took it pretty hard.”

  “Who’s Marlowe? Your girlfriend?”

  “Hell no!”

  Raven laughed. “Sounds like she’s someone who’s gotten under your skin.”

  “If you knew her I’m sure she’d get under your skin, too.”

  His sister leaned back and folded her arms across her chest. A devious grin curled at the corners of her lips. “You like her,” she said matter-of-factly.

  “Not a chance. We’re like oil and water. She’s bullheaded and spoiled. Doesn’t know the meaning of the word compromise.”

  Even as he said the words, he thought about the way Marlowe’s lips yielded to his. She wasn’t stubborn then. She’d melted against him, filling the hard lines of his body with her softness. Days ago, he’d watched her walk from his house. The tempting sway of her round backside made the muscle between his legs harden. His body’s reaction to her bothered him. Why did that woman bring out the beast in him?

  “Something about the look in your eyes tells me there’s more to this woman than you care to mention,” Raven guessed.

  “I don’t want to talk about Marlowe Jones right now. That woman is damned infuriating.”

  “Brother, I might be the one locked in the crazy house, but you’re nuts if you think I believe your lame explanation.” His sister wagged her finger at him. “Seems to me like you’ve finally met your match.”

  “I assure you, she is not my match. End of story.”

  Roque huffed. He’d already let Marlowe occupy more time in his mind than any woman should warrant. He was sorry he’d slipped and mentioned her name to Raven. Now, his sister was going to constantly bring the woman up.

  “Aw, c’mon. Don’t be sour,” Raven teased. “Stay for lunch. We’re having tapioca pudding.”

  “Ugh. I pay for better meals than that. You don’t have to eat that shit.”

  “I happen to like tapioca.”

  “What else do they serve around here?”

  “Well, we had filet mignon yesterday. Sorry you missed it.”

  Roque grinned. “Okay, I deserved that.”

  She giggled. “So are you staying?”

  “Yes, I believe I will.”

  ###

  Marlowe recognized Jade the moment she sauntered past the cosmetics counter at Neiman’s. She really was a stunning young lady when she wasn’t scowling. She walked in like she owned the store, sporting a pair of designer skinny jeans and an oversized t-shirt imprinted with an image of a popular boy band. The green, glittering eye shadow she wore reminded Marlowe of a neon sign.

  “Does your dad know you’re wearing makeup?”

  Jade shrugged. “What do you care?”

  “I don’t. But if you’re going to wear it, at least tone it down a bit. You don’t want to be mistaken for a circus runaway.”

  Jade rolled her eyes. “Number one, this is Chanel. Number two, people run away to join the circus, not to run away from it.”

  “Yeah, whatever. Aren’t you supposed to be in school today?”

  “I’m on bereavement.”

  “You’re lying.”

  “Fine. I ditched.”

  “If your dad finds out…”

  “He won’t find out. I know a kid who works in the attendance office at school.”

  Marlowe couldn’t believe the nerve of this girl. “What’s so important you had to meet me here?”

  Jade shoved her hands in her front pockets. “Like I said, I need your help.”

  “With what?”

  “Even though you’re a murderer, you obviously have style and taste.”

  “A backhanded compliment. Lovely.”

  “I need a woman’s touch.” She pointed to her chest.

  “You want fake boobs?” Marlowe asked.

 
; She scowled. “No, I need a bra. I don’t know what size or how to get measured.”

  The snappy comeback Marlowe had planned died on her lips. Damn. Poor girl. At least Marlowe had older sisters growing up. Jade had no one, it seemed.

  “Well, I’m honored you came to me,” Marlowe said.

  “Don’t go getting all mushy on me,” Jade quipped, reminding Marlowe who she was dealing with. “And don’t take me to Victoria’s Secret. I went there already, but they didn’t have anything that looked like it could fit me. So, until I get my fake boobs, I need something else.”

  Marlowe couldn’t help but laugh. “Okay, Jade. You came to the right person. Let’s do this.”

  Hours later, the two of them sat at a coffee shop a few miles from the mall. Marlowe’s trunk was stuffed with bags, most of them Jade’s. Dang! That girl could shop.

  “Thanks for helping me out, Marlowe. Surprisingly, I had a good time.”

  She sipped the caramel mocha latte Marlowe had allowed her to get. Well, more like Jade had manipulated Marlowe into buying, saying something about caffeine had been proven to stimulate brain cells in adolescents. Whatever. Foam coated the girl’s top lip. Cute. Jade was obviously a middle-aged woman in a twelve-year-old body.

  “I have to admit, I thought you wanted to meet me so I could buy you another spider.”

  “No. I’m still grieving for Charlotte. I don’t think I could get another spider without it reminding me of her. Now, I’m thinking about getting a baby hammerhead shark. Of course, Daddy would have to convert the pool to a huge fish tank.”

  Marlowe gaped. “Are you serious?”

  “No.”

  The two of them giggled. Marlowe would have loved to see Roque’s reaction when his daughter brought that creature home.

  “You know,” Marlowe told her, “you’re fun when you’re not mean-mugging all the time.”

  “My dad’s the only one who can make me smile.”

  Marlowe blew the steam from her cappuccino. “What about your mom? Where is she?”

  Jade shrugged. “She comes and goes. She’s supposed to have visitation rights, but half the time she cancels. The other half she just never shows up. I haven’t seen her in a few years.”

  “I can relate,” Marlowe sympathized. “My mom died when I was around eight or nine. I barely remember her.”

  “My mom left because my dad wasn’t making enough money. She hooked up with some dude who lavishes her with whatever she wants. Now, Dad is rich. So, she left for nothing.”

  “Does she have any other kids?”

  “No. That guy’s so old, he probably farts dust.”

  Marlowe laughed. “How old is he?”

  “Fifty-five.”

  “Girl, please. That is not old.”

  “When you’re twelve it seems ancient.”

  “I guess you have a point.”

  “I wish my dad would have some more kids. I think I’d make a great big sister.”

  “I think you would, too.”

  “He said there are no candidates. Which I don’t understand because he’s a good-looking guy.” She sipped her latte again. “Don’t women love the tall, dark and handsome type?”

  Marlowe scoffed. “Yeah, but no woman likes a guy with a bad attitude.”

  Jade’s thin eyebrows jumped. “You think my dad has a bad attitude?”

  Marlowe couldn’t believe she’d said that out loud. “Uh, let’s just say he can be somewhat abrasive.”

  “Abrasive? Like sandpaper?”

  “Exactly.”

  Marlowe imagined there must be a lot of desperate women falling at Roque’s feet who wouldn’t mind putting up with his domineering personality. After all, he was incredibly handsome.

  “You guys are alike in a lot of ways,” Jade said.

  Marlowe almost choked on her cappuccino. “We are nothing alike.”

  “Oh, yes you are. You’re both strong. Both stubborn. Both hot tempered. And you never like to apologize.”

  “I’m sorry about your spider. It really was an accident.”

  “I know.” She clasped her hands around her paper cup. “I can tell you’re not the type of person to do something like that to be evil or vengeful. You’re okay.”

  That was probably the closest thing to a compliment Marlowe was going to get from Jade. “Thanks, I guess.”

  “No problem.” Jade grinned. “Us spoiled brats gotta stick together. Are you ready to take me home now? My dad should be home soon.”

  Marlowe nodded. “Let’s get you back before he arrives. Then, he’ll never know you were gone.”

  Truthfully, Marlowe didn’t care if Roque knew his daughter had been shopping with her. She wanted to get Jade home so she wouldn’t have to run into the man. Every time they were around each other, all they did was argue—except for the last time she was at his house. He’d silenced her with his hungry kiss. And as much as she hated to admit it, she was afraid if she saw him again, she’d want a repeat performance.

  SEVEN

  Roque drove his Mercedes down the winding road leading to the exclusive neighborhood where he lived. A red Acura whizzed past him. He barely caught a glance at the driver of the speeding vehicle. For a moment, it looked like Marlowe.

  No, he told himself. It couldn’t be her. He lived in a gated community patrolled by security guards who knew all of the residents. There was also a guard shack at the front of the neighborhood. One of the guards would have had to let Marlowe in.

  He pulled into the circular drive in front of his large colonial-style home. The sun was setting now. He couldn’t believe it was so late. He’d meant to get home earlier, but there was too much to do at the office.

  He trotted upstairs and walked down the hall to Jade’s room. Her door was open, giving him full access to the jungle that was her room. Besides her numerous animals, she had a queen-size canopy bed, a forty-two inch flat screen TV mounted on a massive oak TV stand, a bay window nook for reading, a Mac computer, a gaming console, and a massive walk-in closet. Yeah, maybe he did spoil her.

  For the past three days, she’d been depressed, but now her spirits seemed lighter. She was seated Indian-style on the thick rug in the middle of the hardwood floor. He joined her, although he damn sure couldn’t manage the Indian-style. He hadn’t been that flexible since Kindergarten. Instead, he reclined on his side, leaned on his elbow and stretched a hand behind his head.

  ‘Daddy’s home! Daddy’s home!’ her parakeet, Simba, squawked, nearly scaring the shit out of him.

  Roque looked around, hoping he wasn’t squashing a lizard, or hamster, or whatever wild beast was allowed to roam free today. At least he was safe from the ant farm on Jade’s desk.

  “We can get another spider first thing tomorrow,” he offered. He couldn’t believe he was making the suggestion. Marlowe had driven him to this. In less than a week, the woman had upset the balance of his life.

  “No, I’m good,” Jade answered. “Thanks for offering.”

  Thank God.

  “How was your day?”

  “Fine. How was yours?”

  “Same old stuff. Different client.” He decided not to mention his visit with Raven. Jade hardly remembered her anyway. “What’s all this stuff?” he asked, his gaze zeroing in on the colorful bits of paper in Jade’s lap.

  “My planes.”

  He recognized the dozens of paper airplanes. He’d made them for her years ago. When she was younger and he had to fly a lot, he’d take her with him. To ease her fears, he’d make a paper airplane out of a cocktail napkin or tear a page out of a magazine.

  “You’ve kept these old planes all these years?” he asked.

  “Yeah.” She was sorting them by size and color.

  “Why?” He chuckled. “It won’t hurt my feelings if you throw them away.”

  “Dad, nothing hurts your feelings. You have tough skin.” She shrugged. “Besides, I don’t keep them because I’m worried about not hurting your feelings. I keep them because they
remind me of you and all the special times we had together.”

  He nodded. “I had no idea.”

  “Whenever I’m feeling alone, I take these out and look at them. They make me feel better.”

  He nodded again, not sure of what to say.

  “Don’t worry,” she told him. “I’m not becoming a hoarder like Aunt Raven.”

  He tensed. “I never said…”

  “You were thinking it. I know you.” She looked into his eyes. “I did some research on hoarding, and it’s usually prompted by some type of tragic life event.”

  “Her son died unexpectedly.”

  “That’s tragic.”

  “So is the death of a pet.”

  “I’m not on the verge of hoarding, Dad. Although, if you died, I can’t promise what I’d do.”

  He frowned. “Don’t talk about death. I’m not going anywhere.”

  In a rare display of affection, she leaned over and hugged him. “I know.”

  Roque was never vulnerable with anyone except his daughter. He never let his guard down. He didn’t know what possessed him to say it, but he did anyway. “Marlowe’s mother was a hoarder. She died when Marlowe was younger than you. Now, she’s going through all of her mother’s stuff.”

  “That could take weeks, months even.”

  “So, I’m finding out.”

  “It’s kind of like therapy, Dad. Marlowe needs time to go through all that stuff. I can totally understand.”

  He cocked his head to the side. “Hey, don’t tell me you’re feeling sorry for her.”

  “I feel sorry for anyone who doesn’t have a wonderful dad like me.”

  He scoffed. “I’m sure Marlowe would disagree with you about me being wonderful.”

  “Well, she doesn’t know you like I do. Maybe you should show her your softer side.”

  He smirked. “I don’t have a softer side, Jade.”

  “This is exactly why you don’t have a girlfriend.”

  “Not that again. Don’t want one, or need one.”

  Whenever he wanted his needs met, he contacted one of the many women willing to jump in his bed. He let off steam, and then the world was right again. Marlowe Jones was not the woman to let off steam with. She seemed like a prude who couldn’t handle one fourth of the freaky things he was capable of.

 

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