Awaken

by Denese Shelton

  Just then the phone rang. Sierra checked the name: Irene.

  “Hello,” she said.

  “Hello, yourself,” Irene responded. “So, you do know how to pick up the phone. I was beginning to wonder.”

  “Ha, ha, very funny.”

  “Seriously, I’m a little hurt that you haven’t been returning my phone calls. I had to hear about how you’ve been through Mom. What’s up with that?”

  Sierra smiled. She had only responded to her mother’s calls because she didn’t want her calling the police or 911 because Sierra wasn’t picking up the phone. Sierra wouldn’t put it past her.

  “Nothing is up with it. I just haven’t had the chance to call you back yet. I’ve been busy.”

  Even as Sierra said the words, she knew they weren’t true. She’d been dreading having to answer her sister’s questions about Dale—and about Steve. She’d called Irene to try and sort out her feelings after her lunch with him.

  Irene had thought the situation was both funny and obvious and said, “When was the last time that you were genuinely attracted to a guy?”—which Sierra had no real answer to, as she couldn’t remember ever having felt this way before. She had liked guys in the past, but this felt like a punch in the gut. And that was what she’d told Irene.

  “Uh-oh,” Irene said. “You might be in trouble. This is someone who got under your defenses and barely lifted a finger.”

  Sierra hadn’t liked the way that sounded then and she still didn’t now. She had her defenses up for a reason, and no way anyone would get underneath them.

  Sierra was pulled back to her current conversation when Irene asked, “So, do you think you like Dale better than you like Steve?”

  That was the question Sierra had been afraid Irene would ask, and she definitely wasn’t prepared to answer it. If she answered honestly, she would incriminate herself. She knew that she liked Steve more, but she had no explanation as to why. They hadn’t even gone out on a proper date. However, when she was with him, her heart did somersaults—and yet he also seemed like an old, familiar friend.

  She replied with the only response that she had in her arsenal: “Why would I like Steve more? Steve and I aren’t dating. That makes no sense.”

  Irene only paused for a second before saying, “That really doesn’t answer the question.”

  Sierra didn’t respond, and Irene took the hint.

  “Listen, don’t forget about family dinner on Sunday,” she said. “There’s no excuse to miss it.”

  Sierra knew the entire family would draw the same conclusion, so she resigned herself to attending. The two sisters shared a few more words of small talk before ending the call.

  “I love you,” Irene said. “Always will.”

  This was something Irene said often, and although Sierra never said so, it brought her a sense of comfort.

  “I love you too,” she admitted. She was smiling as she hung up the phone.

  She actually felt pretty good still, she realized. As she began to add sugar and cream to her coffee, another image came bursting into her consciousness, and she knew that she had to paint again, right away. She brought the coffee over to the window and set it down on a nearby table before putting a new canvas on her easel. The image radiating from her spirit began to take life through her fingers as she picked up her paintbrush, dipped it in paint, and began to move it along the canvas. Today would be another good day.

  Chapter 20

  Sierra set off on Friday morning for her office—a small, elegant space around the corner from her condo that she’d been leasing for two years. She used it to meet with clients and handle paperwork and meetings, but didn’t require anyone to be there at all times. Stefani went in at least three days a week, and Sierra went in whenever she needed to. Calls to the office when neither she nor Stefani was there were forwarded to both women’s cell phones.

  She had begun to lighten her workload in the past week, and to commit more energy to her art. She wasn’t sure where it was going; she only knew that the transition was exciting and she felt good. But more than that, the change felt right.

  Stefani, like Irene, was a wife and mother and had jumped at the opportunity to be able to work out of her home as a secretary for Sierra a few days a week. The arrangement had worked out well for both women.

  As Sierra drove, she tried to mentally prepare herself to see Steve again. She wanted to be as professional as possible, but it was getting harder with each day that went by, because each day she thought of him more and more. For some reason, after her dream of John, her thoughts of Steve had intensified tenfold. But just thinking of him wasn’t what bothered her; the trouble was that she had a physical reaction to every thought of him.

  Her heartbeat and breath quickened now, and she started to perspire. She was afraid that if she did these things just thinking of him, actually being with him would inspire even more embarrassing reactions. Nevertheless, this meeting had to happen. She wanted it to happen. The sooner they closed, the sooner they could part from one another. And even though the thought of that filled her with great sadness, she felt that for the sake of her sanity, she needed it to happen.

  As she pulled up to the office, she comforted herself with the knowledge that both Stefani and the sellers, as well as their real estate agent, would be at the meeting. She would have plenty to distract her. She could do this.

  She got out of the car and noticed Stefani’s car already parked on the street. She opened the door to the office and went in, allowing the light yellow of the walls to help calm her spirit—the reason for the color choice to begin with.

  The coffee maker in the corner of the room was already at work, and the smell permeated the office. Stefani was seated at one of the two black executive desks toward the back of the office, identical but for the pictures that occupied the top of each desk. Stefani’s desk displayed pictures of her husband and kids. Sierra’s desk displayed an old photo of her, her siblings, and their parents. It was taken when she was about five years old and was one of her favorites. They all looked genuinely happy in the picture, and that in turn made her happy. Aside from the family portrait, a print from an artist well-known for capturing African American life experiences and a desk lamp of brushed steel with an adjustable head were the only other items on her desktop.

  As Sierra put down her bag, Stefani brought over a cup of coffee—the way Sierra liked it, with a little cream—and then began to brief her about the details of the meeting. Sierra listened respectfully, but she had already gone over the details in her head more than a million times in the last couple of days. She was determined for everything to go well. No matter what, she still prided herself on being the best at whatever she did, and this was no different, regardless of her personal feelings.

  “So, I’ve got the copies of everything together and bottled water and coffee ready to go,” Stefani told Sierra. “I also called everyone this morning to confirm the meeting, and they should be here in the next thirty minutes.”

  “Great, thank you!” Sierra said. She slid into her seat and began to review the documents.

  An unexpected hand on her shoulder startled her out of her concentration ten minutes later.

  “I’m so sorry,” Stefani immediately said. “I just . . . wanted to make sure that you’re okay.”

  “Of course I am, why wouldn’t I be?” Sierra asked, puzzled.

  “It’s just that you haven’t exactly been yourself lately. You haven’t been really researching any new prospects or showing your usual interest in the ones we have—and I’m worried about you, that’s all.”

  Sierra was about to answer emphatically that she was fine and for Stefani not to worry when she looked up and saw the real concern—and distress—in Stefani’s eyes. She knew that she should be completely honest with her; she was not only a great employee, she also tried to be a good friend. She deserved the truth.

  “I’m fine,” Sierra said slowly. “I really am. I just need a little time to figure o
ut some things. Whatever the outcome is, I’ll make sure that I take care of you. You don’t have to worry, okay?”

  “Okay,” Stefani said, relief evident on her face. “And thank you. Thank you for everything.”

  Sierra smiled and nodded. “Thank you for everything.”

  The next ten minutes passed uneventfully, and then the little bell on the door rang, indicating that the parties were starting to arrive. One by one, the sellers, their lawyer, and their agent entered and were shown to the amber wood conference table surrounded by plush executive chairs in mahogany. Steve’s lawyer, a younger man with blond hair, a quick smile, and a matter-of-fact manner, entered just a minute or two later.

  The sellers were a young couple with two children; now the wife was pregnant with a third, and they said they had outgrown the house, as they planned for their family to continue to grow. Their real estate agent was an older gentleman with a kind disposition. He and Sierra had spoken on the phone several times, and by this time were fairly comfortable with one another. The two of them chatted as the couple’s lawyer, a young woman with auburn hair in a navy blue pantsuit, looked over the documents Sierra handed her.

  Five minutes later, Steve walked in the door. Sierra steadied herself, determined to act in a normal manner. She watched as Stefani took his coat and ushered him to the table.

  Steve greeted the whole table, but Sierra could feel his eyes on her even as she looked down at her papers.

  For the rest of the meeting, in between the signing and reading, she did her best to smile and put everyone at ease. She also tried her best not to look at Steve too long when she addressed him. She kept everything light and easy.

  Finally, the deal was done. Everyone left the office relatively quickly afterward—except for Steve, who struck up a conversation with Stefani. Five minutes passed as they talked about Stefani’s son, who was apparently on an intramural basketball team that Steve coached. They had a game this afternoon, and both Steve and Stefani were going.

  For a moment, Sierra was a little piqued that Stefani hadn’t said anything about this personal connection to Steve before now. But then again, why would she? she reminded herself. She had never before shown interest in a client’s personal affairs. Why would Stefani think Steve would be an exception?

  Rationally, Sierra knew this, but the way that they were laughing and talking about the kids on the team made something in Sierra’s chest hurt. She wasn’t sure what the feeling was, but she was suspicious that it might be jealousy—an emotion she didn’t want anything to do with, especially as it related to Steve. She began to gather her personal belongings, trying to leave as quickly as possible.

  “Well, Steve, I want to thank you again for your business,” she said as she slid her purse strap over her shoulder. “I hope you enjoy your new home.” She held her hand out for Steve to shake.

  Steve paused in conversation and turned all of his attention, including his infectious smile, on Sierra. She felt her cheeks grow hot, and wished she wasn’t so affected by him. She felt her lips turn up even wider in reaction.

  Then Steve took her hand, and the smile faded. There it was. That feeling, that response that she experienced every time they touched. To Sierra’s horror, it wasn’t a fluke.

  “No, thank you,” Steve said. “I appreciate all that you’ve done. You’ve been a big help.”

  Once again, Sierra found herself letting go of his hand first and breaking the eye contact with the pretense of needing to find something in her purse. She hoped that he would get the message, but he didn’t seem to be in any particular hurry. She glanced back up at his eyes again and saw amusement. She was annoyed that he had read her again and struggled not to let her irritation show.

  “You know, if you don’t have any big plans for this afternoon, I would love for you to come to the game,” Steve said.

  Sierra only needed a second to realize that he was talking to her, because of course Stefani was already going. Before she could come up with a really good excuse not to go, he added, “I mean, I’m sure Stefani would love for you to come too.”

  Sierra looked at Stefani, and saw that she actually seemed excited about the idea. Sierra thought about all of the times her assistant had gone out of her way to make something happen for her—and all the invitations Stefani had extended for Sierra to come to one of her kids’ sports games or recitals. Sierra had always been too busy to go, but today she had no good reason to say no. She sighed. “What time is the game?”

  Steve smiled as if he had won a major battle—and maybe he had, Sierra realized. “One o’clock,” he said.

  “So you’ll come?” Stefani asked, her voice full of excitement.

  Sierra heard herself say “sure” before she fully understood what was happening.

  Spending more time with Steve went directly against everything Sierra’s brain had been telling her for the past few weeks. But as she watched him pick up his things and head out the door, she had to acknowledge that her heart didn’t mind at all.

  Chapter 21

  The game was at the middle school, where Stefani’s son, Malik, went to school. Sierra was familiar with where it was; she had gone to public schools all her life, and the extracurricular activities she’d been involved with had taken her to schools all over the city—this one included.

  “Do you want a ride to the game?” Stefani asked as they walked out of the office. “We could stop for a coffee on the way there, and I can bring you back here after.”

  “No thanks,” Sierra said. “I have other things I need to do later and might have to leave the game early.” She was lying. The truth was, she really needed time to compose her spirit and prepare herself to watch Steve for a couple of hours while still feigning indifference.

  Sierra took the downtime between the meeting and the game to grab groceries and pick up some dry cleaning. She then dropped those things off at her home and changed into something more comfortable—jeans, red sweater, and a black leather jacket. She added a leopard-print scarf at the last second. She’d been doing that a lot lately: adding little accessories to her wardrobe that were fun. It made her feel more like she was expressing herself.

  She headed to the school feeling pretty confident in what she looked like, and in her ability to be fun and supportive with Stefani while still maintaining her aloofness toward Steve.

  When she arrived at the school, she parked in the lot and headed to the entrance, where Stefani had just texted she was waiting for her. The two women chatted amicably as they proceeded to the gym.

  Before they walked into the gym, Sierra heard the screech of shoes on the wood floor and the murmurs of the crowd—and then they walked through the door, and the smell of rubber, sweat, and stuffiness washed over her, taking her back to elementary school gym class. She smiled at the memory fondly.

  A good-looking gentleman waved his hand at Sierra and Stefani—Stefani’s husband, Sierra reminded herself. Devon. She had met him a couple of times when she had stopped by Stefani’s house to drop off or pick up documents over the last two years, but had never spent any time with him in a social capacity.

  The two women walked up the bleachers, careful not to step on the various arms, legs, and heads of supporters who were already seated as they made their way to where Devon was sitting with their daughter, Maya.

  Devon greeted Sierra with a smile and a friendly handshake and then kissed Stefani. He took her hand as she sat down next to him. The gesture touched Sierra; they had been married for over ten years, and seeing that they were still warm toward each other and seemingly still in love was encouraging.

  Sierra began to think about her sister and her husband. They had been married for twelve years and had three children. Blake, the oldest son, was eleven. Taylor, their only daughter, was eight. Their youngest child, Jaylon, was five. Every time Sierra was around the entire family, she felt the love and peace that Irene and Jason had established in their family. But she knew that their path hadn’t been an easy one. M
any times over the years, Irene had vented and shared arguments and frustrations that had flared up between her and Jason. Sierra, being four years younger and not the best at relationships, didn’t necessarily always have a lot to share, but she strived to be a good listener. In doing that, she had actually learned a lot over the years about how to sustain a healthy relationship.

  Sierra realized in that moment just how many people she knew who were happy in their long-term relationships. Yet those examples had never stopped her from being scared of her own possible relationships failing. After all, Stefani and Irene were different types of women than Sierra, and they’d had different life experiences. Sierra had always felt that she was a little unusual, maybe even a little crazy, and she couldn’t see herself sharing all of who she was with a man. In her heart, she didn’t believe that any man would still love her after knowing her completely—so she had never even tried. Did that make her a coward? Sierra flinched at the thought. She’d never thought of herself in those terms before.

  She had needed courage to leave home and go to college. She had needed courage to leave her well-paid advertising job, take more classes, and open her own real estate business. She had needed courage to buy her own condo and hire someone to work for her. Those things had all felt courageous at the time, anyway. But even in those cases, maybe she had taken the way that to her seemed safe.

  And when it came to relationships, well . . . she had never really fully opened up to anyone. And she still wasn’t sure if she really wanted to.

  A loud buzzer went off, signaling the start of the game and bringing Sierra back to the present. The kids gathered in the center of the court to jump for the ball and begin the game.

  Even with all the activity going on in the center of the court, Sierra’s eyes instantly found Steve. He was standing on the sidelines, holding papers and a clipboard. He had changed clothes as well: he was now wearing a blue-and-white track suit that matched the colors of his team’s uniform, and had a whistle hanging from his neck. He also had a very serious look on his face as he concentrated on the game.