by Cydney Rax
“Um, our other hostess can help you out,” Burgundy offered.
“No, thanks. We want Elyse. She’s our favorite.”
“Your favorite? Oh, all right,” Burgundy told them. She fumed inside as she watched Elyse attend to those guests as well.
And when Elyse returned to the hostess station, this time Burgundy was ready for her. “Elyse, can you come to the business office with me?”
Burgundy’s tone and facial expression caused Elyse to feel weak in the knees. She felt her heart jump inside her chest. Her breathing intensified.
“How long will this take? I’m ’bout to punch out.”
“You are about to punch out. Not ’bout.”
“I know dat,” she snapped back.
“You know that. T-H-A-T. It’s pronounced that.”
“I said I know that. Leave me ’lone, B.”
Burgundy impatiently asked her again, “Are you coming or not?” Elyse passively followed behind her sister, her mind racing as she wondered what was wrong this time. Burgundy shut the door behind her then turned around. She gazed at Elyse, noticing everything about her that stood out. Elyse was wearing the company uniform that consisted of a gray-and-pink polo with the Morning Glory logo embroidered on it. She also had on dark slacks along with comfortable shoes, but Burgundy noticed something different about her. Covering Elyse’s shoulders was a smart looking black jacket with the sleeves slightly rolled up. They exposed some gold bracelets that Burgundy had never seen before. Gold earrings dangled from her ears and were so long they almost touched her shoulders.
“Where’d you get that blazer?”
“Dru got it for me. Why?”
“I’m asking the questions. And I think, no, make that I know that you are in violation of our company dress code. You are not allowed to wear earrings that big and pretentious. Take ’em off. Now!”
“No!”
“Elyse? Did you say no to me? Your boss?”
“What difference does it make? I’m about to leave.”
“You leave in ten minutes. You’re still on the clock. Remove the earrings and the blazer or I will dock your pay.”
“I don’t care. Go ’head. Tired of you.” Elyse was young but she knew when a woman viewed her as competition, and it hurt her to think that Burgundy would treat her in such a manner.
“You can dock me all you want,” she continued. “You do everything else you want to do.”
“What did you say?”
“You heard me. Why you messing with me? Threatening me? You getting on me about petty stuff and stayin’ on my last nerve.” Her frustrations bubbled over, and she was unable to stop. Just because Elyse was mostly quiet did not mean she had no feelings, that she appreciated being bullied and ostracized.
“Why you hounding me over dumb things? I do my job. I do it real good. That’s what you should focus on.”
“Well, um, I . . .” Burgundy was startled. In her entire life she never recalled her sister defending herself with such conviction. In a way it was admirable, but on the other hand how could she speak to Burgundy like that, like she forgot the definition of respect?
“Elyse, I agree that you’ve caught on fast and you do this job pretty well, but you need to straighten out that uniform next time, so we won’t have this issue again.”
“What issue, B?”
Elyse removed the jacket. And it was then that Burgundy noticed that the young woman’s breasts had filled out even more. Same was true for her hips. Elyse had become a woman and somehow had graduated from her girlish nature. Had Nate noticed? Did he like it?
God knew that Burgundy had recently shunned all his attempts to get sex. Maybe he would turn to her sister again. Burgundy stared at the big executive desk that stood before her and imagined Elyse propped up with her legs spread and Nate standing in the middle of them.
No! No way!
“Put the jacket back on, Elyse. It doesn’t look so bad after all. In fact, I want you to wear it every time you check in to work. And since you only have five minutes left on the clock, you may leave now.”
“Good.” Elyse walked away with an angry look on her face.
“Who’s picking you up?” Burgundy called after her.
“None of your business,” Elyse responded. She opened the door and slammed it, leaving Burgundy feeling resentful and confused.
* * *
Days later Elyse was too sick to go to work. It was early morning on a Friday. She was at Alita’s place. And she was sulking. Even though she’d gotten Burgundy all together by then and kept the woman at bay, Elyse still wasn’t completely happy.
Especially that morning.
Gamba had visited her as usual. But as soon as he got there he had to step outside of the apartment to take a telephone call.
When he returned inside, Elyse was sneezing, coughing, and wiping her eyes with crumpled pieces of tissue. Every part of her body ached, from her muscles to her head. She felt like she’d been run over by an eighteen-wheeler.
“You look tired. Beautiful, but terrible all at the same time,” Gamba said to Elyse in his easygoing manner.
“I already know I look and feel like crap.” She coughed loud then blew her nose. It felt embarrassing for him to see her in such a sickly condition.
“Hey, I need to step out for a minute,” Gamba replied. “I’ll be right back.”
She was so relieved that she did not even respond to him as he left her alone.
Why doesn’t he love me? What will it take for the man that I love to love me back?
After a while Gamba returned holding a couple of grocery bags. He set everything on the counter and retrieved a package of cough drops, a carton of orange juice, a box of cold medicine, a can of tea bags, soup cans, and several boxes of tissues.
“Here,” he said. “I got something for you.” He unwrapped a cough drop and made her open up her mouth so he could insert it.
“Suck on that for a minute.”
She silently obeyed and stared at him in anger and misery.
Gamba proceeded to open up a can of chicken noodle soup, found a tiny pot, and heated up the food. He doctored it up with his own special seasonings and stirred it until it was smoking hot. The savory smell of chicken broth filled the apartment.
When the soup was ready, he scooped a large amount in a bowl and carefully placed it on a serving tray. He poured some orange juice and dropped some ice cubes in the tall glass.
All this time Elyse had been reclining on the sofa, her legs curled underneath her, as she silently fumed about her circumstances and wondered what she could do to fix them.
She took one look at the soup. “Can you add crackers?”
“Sure.”
Elyse instructed him to place eight to ten crackers in the bowl and crush them up for her. Gamba did exactly as Elyse instructed. When the soup was just as she liked it he asked her to open her mouth, and he spooned a good bit of it, all the juices and noodles and chicken pieces together, and served it to her.
She slowly began to relax and eat as he sat beside her. She ate until she was nice and full. Then he grabbed the Fire stick that he had previously taken the time to program for her and Alita.
“What do you want to watch?” he asked.
“Black-ish or a good movie.”
“Which do you prefer?”
She gave him a thoughtful glance. “My favorite movie is Beyond the Lights.” Elyse loved that romantic film about a female R & B singing star and the handsome young cop who is assigned to help her.
Gamba set up the movie to begin streaming. He then sat next to her and watched TV in silence, unaware of the glances she kept giving him.
He’s a dummy, that’s what’s wrong with him. He doesn’t know I love him and it seems like he’s not into me. What’s wrong with this guy?
After the film was over, he turned off the television.
“Open your mouth,” he commanded. Elyse decided not to argue. He whipped out a thermometer, placed it underne
ath her tongue, and took her temperature. The instrument beeped.
“Looks like you’re going to live, young lady. Your temperature is normal. You’ll recover in time. I need you to keep getting your rest, drink lots of liquids, and just take it easy.”
“I need you,” she blurted, in an almost pleading way. To Elyse, Gamba looked so handsome she could eat him up and enjoy him way more than some soup and crackers. He was wearing army fatigues that day, and she loved a man in uniform. It was his day off from work, and she did not understand why he was spending it hanging around a sick woman.
“I need,” she said. “Um, I need.”
“What did you say?”
“I-I need you to hand me that box of tissues.” She coughed and gave him a sad look.
“Right, of course, I’ll get that for you, sweetie.” He opened the box, yanked out a few sheets, and thrust them at her.
“Here. Elyse. Blow hard. You’ll feel better once you get everything out that’s inside of you.”
“No shit.”
Although she did not want to do as he told her and dreaded that he could see her in such an ugly, unattractive state, Elyse was too mad to argue. She was ready to give up. This love thing was too complicated. It did not matter if she nicely combed her hair, or carefully applied her makeup, or dressed sexily. She concluded that the man she loved would never love her.
Gamba brought her a warm blanket and spread it across her lap. He stuffed two pillows behind her back until she said she felt comfortable.
“I’m ready to watch Black-ish,” she said.
“Yes, ma’am.”
He sat next to her tending to her every need while she distractedly watched the television. She nursed thoughts of hurt and rejection. Why hadn’t he tried to kiss her? What good was her hand if he didn’t try to hold it?
When the medicine took effect, Elyse began to nod off. She gradually fell asleep. Gamba picked her up in his arms and carried her to Alita’s bedroom. Since Alita wasn’t home, he thought she’d be more comfortable resting in a big bed.
Gamba gingerly set her down and watched her cough and yawn and struggle to get comfortable. After a while he unlaced his shoes and slid in bed next to her, still fully clothed. He held her close to his side and listened to the way that she breathed in and out, snorting and coughing. At times she moaned like a baby, and the sound was music to his ears.
Eventually, they fell asleep next to each other, breathing in perfect harmony, like two that became one.
But when you’re asleep you’re not conscious enough to know what’s going on, and Elyse had no idea that Gamba had grabbed her hand and held it as they rested.
Hours later Gamba woke up. Elyse was still fast asleep. He stared at her in silence then left. He came back and sprayed the room with Lysol.
He walked over to Elyse, leaned over, and started to give her a quick peck on the lips. But he thought about her brother-in-law and changed his mind. He in no way wanted to take advantage of her like Nate had.
“I’ll be back,” he whispered to her, then closed the door behind him.
Chapter 9
Unfinished Business
Alita and Leno were standing in his bedroom when her heart sank. She couldn’t believe it as she stared at Leno. She tilted her neck to peer closely at him. “Did you grow a couple more inches, son?”
He nodded and shrugged, acting like his growth spurt was no big deal. But when you were a single mother who had to keep forking over dollars to buy new shoes that no longer fit, and pants that kept getting too short, it was a huge deal.
She asked him to do her a favor.
“Um, Leno. I want you to lie down on your bed. Get in it and act like you’re about to go to sleep.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
Leno crawled into his bed, the one he’d been accustomed to sleeping on during the past few years. He spread out on his side, shoved a couple of pillows under his head, and curled into a ball.
“Damn!” Alita said.
His feet hung out, legs too long to fit comfortably; she watched as he clumsily lay on his side.
“I feel so bad, Leno. Can you forgive your mom?”
“What are you talking about?”
“No wonder you’ve been complaining about back and neck problems. You need a new bed and a mattress. And they need to be top of the line.”
She did the quick math. For a decent mattress, Alita would shell out more than a thousand bucks. The box spring plus a new headboard could easily double the cost. She did not want to go cheap.
“I may as well get you a king-size bed because what if you grow some more? You’re definitely not about to shrink.”
“I dunno.”
“Sounds like you don’t care, but I’m not you. And from the bottom of my heart please forgive me. Let’s go, son. We’ll head over to Gallery Furniture.”
It was a Saturday morning in June. The weather was so beautiful that the freeways were crowded with cars; passengers speeding along the road to visit shopping malls, water parks, the lake, or a nearby beach. It was a beautiful summer day and felt like it should be celebrated.
But when Alita coasted into the furniture storeroom and asked to be shown the king-size beds, she hardly wanted to break out into a cheer. Why did everything cost so much? Once she picked out a suitable Tempur-Pedic mattress and box spring, she agreed to max out the only credit card she was lucky enough to own. That single expenditure would set her back by five grand.
“Thanks, Mom.” Her generosity was totally unexpected.
Alita whispered back, “You’re welcome, Big Foot. That’s my new nickname for you.”
He laughed.
They arranged for the bed to be delivered that night and walked out of the store to look for her car.
“You’re the best mom in the world.”
“I’m a fool, that’s what I am.”
“Why you say that?”
Worried, she explained to Leno. “This means no more goofing off. You gotta stay on top of your b-ball. And hope and pray that your Big Feet gets picked by a decent team.”
“What? Is that all I am to you? A prospective NBA player?”
“I’m sorry, Leno. That came out all wrong. I love you to death, but Lord knows I had no idea that I would have a child who eats like a horse and grows like a weed. I mean, hell, this five-thousand-dollar expense is like buying a used car.”
“Right. And you told me that you were going to buy me that too. Remember? You told me that when I was thirteen.”
“That’s because back then you and your silly little friends thought it would be fun to try and steal a car. Thank God I caught you just in time. After I whipped your behind good, I had to tell you something to make you act right.”
He looked appalled. “Guess what? I believed you, Mom. Plus, I straightened up after that. I think you should go on and get me a car.”
“Leno, that’s out of the question. Right now a comfortable bed is way more important than a car.”
“What? Why? You promised.”
“Promises get broken.”
“Then why promise me?”
“Sometimes things change.”
“Then change ’em back!”
“What?”
“Make things different, make ’em better,” he pleaded. “You’re my mom. That’s your job.”
“Leno, you seem to forget that I’m not the only parent you have. Shit! Your daddy sells cars.”
“I know that, but he never promised me one.”
“Oh, Leno.” He was starting to stress out Alita. “It doesn’t really matter. Ask him to help you anyway. Get him on the phone and see what he says.”
“I don’t want to bother my dad because you already told me—”
“My God, will you please stop worrying me about getting you a damned car? Do I look like I can afford it?”
Leno’s eyes were blank with indifference. Seeing her son leer at her as if she was inadequate filled Alita’s heart with sadness. There was n
othing worse than being a parent who lacked the resources to care for her children.
“I want to do it for you, son, believe me I do. I just can’t afford it.”
“That’s what you always say. You’ve been saying it forever.”
“Leno, you act like I do nothing for you.”
“That’s the thing, Mom. The stuff you end up doing, you complain about it, and you act like it’s just so hard for you to be my mother. Why do things for me if you’re just going to complain?”
“You’re wrong! That ain’t the truth and you know it. It’s not complaining. It’s realizing the hell I go through to make it happen. I-I bust my ass to take care of you and Elyse.”
“This is not about her. It’s about me. Why help me out if you’re just going to bitch about it? How do you think that makes me feel?”
“Leno? Are you out of your mind? As long as you live under my roof, don’t you ever talk to me like that. Like we’re on the same level.”
“Tell you what. Since I’m such a burden that you can’t afford, maybe I should leave home? How about that?”
By then they both were breathing hard and shouting at each other in the middle of a crowded parking lot. They were bound to attract attention. And Alita did not care. But the one person Alita did not expect to be watching them quietly came and stood in front of her.
“Hey, Alita. I thought I recognized you. What are you doing here?” It was Jerrod. She’d been avoiding him for the past few weeks.
“Taking care of some business,” she told him. “Come on, son. Let’s go.”
“Wait,” Jerrod said and held her arm to keep her from leaving. She hated that.
“Do you mind? I don’t like people touching me like that.”
“Okay, sorry. I just wanted to meet the little fella. Or should I say big fella. This must be Leno, your son? Hey, nice to meet you. I’m Jerrod Dawson.”
Leno eyed the guy warily. But he eventually said, “Hey.”
“Your mom has told me a lot about you.”
“Oh, yeah. Well, who are you? Who is this, Mom?”
“An old friend. Nice seeing you, Jerrod. C’mon, Leno.”
“Hold on a second, Alita. We have some unfinished business that we need to discuss. Um, can you do something for me right now?”