The Little Girl

by Stacy-Deanne

  “I know who you are.” Zayden walked past the table, gesturing at Channing. “What are you doing here, girl?”

  Anderson stood. “Girl?”

  Zayden approached Channing and though her stomach was in a thousand knots, she played it off. “Trying to rope my daddy into feeling sorry for you?”

  “Step back.” Anderson leapt in front of him. “She’s nobody’s girl and you better show her some respect.”

  “Yeah?” Zayden shifted his weight to one foot. “Is some faggot ass, reporter gonna make me?”

  “Stop it, Zayden,” Avon said.

  “You crazy, Pop? How could you let this trash in here?”

  “I’m not playing with you, boy.” Avon gritted his teeth. “Say one more word and you’re out.”

  “You ain’t shit, Abraham.” Zayden sized up Anderson. “Snooping around our town, looking down on us. All you want is to spread lies about Nate.”

  “Nope, I want the real story.” Anderson held up his phone. “Let me interview you and get your opinion on Nate.”

  “Fuck your interview.”

  Avon dug his cane into the floor. “Zayden.”

  “Why would I talk to you?” Zayden’s nose wrinkled. “It’s easy to see whose side you’re on. The last thing we need is another nigger lover. Ain’t that right, Pop?”

  “Get out of here, boy.” Avon stood, raising his cane. “Now!”

  “You apologize to her right now.” Anderson stood chest-to-chest with Zayden, the muscles in his face contorting. “Or you’ll see just how tough this reporter can be.”

  “It’s okay.” Channing pulled Anderson to the door. “You can’t talk to Zayden. He doesn’t listen to anyone but himself.”

  “Damn, boy.” Zayden laughed, grabbing his crotch. “She got you that whipped already? Is that nigger pussy that good?”

  Channing gasped as Anderson tore from her hold and yanked Zayden by his shirt. “Call her that again.” He raised his fist, lips trembling. “Say that filthy, disgusting word again and see if you get off that floor.”

  “Anderson, stop,” Channing yelled. “He’s not worth it.”

  “Yeah.” Zayden bared his teeth. “Listen to your little pickaninny over there.”

  Anderson slugged him, knocking him to the floor.

  “Anderson!” Channing grabbed him. “Don’t do this. You’re better than this.”

  “Go on!” Anderson stood over Zayden, raising his fist. “Call her something else. Do it.”

  Zayden wiped blood from the corner of his mouth, glancing at his father.

  “I should let him beat your ass,” Avon said. “That’ll knock sense into you.”

  Zayden jumped to his feet, wiggling his shoulders to straighten his shirt. “You’ve started it now, big boy.” He nodded at Anderson. “This ain’t over.” He looked at Channing. “I’m talking to both of you. This ain’t near over.”

  “Let’s go, Anderson.” Channing shoved him out the door as he exchanged threatening glares with Zayden.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  Channing followed Anderson into the Southern Sensation diner with a lump in her throat. She didn’t find going to Nate’s regular hangout the smartest thing but Anderson was as stubborn as she was so fighting him did no good.

  Anderson glided to a table, smiling at customers as if nothing fazed him. “Sit.” He held a chair out for Channing.

  “I don’t feel comfortable here.”

  “You can eat anywhere you damn well please. Nate doesn’t own this place.”

  Channing sat as an ancient, blue-haired woman with a lopsided bonnet gave her dirty looks while gumming barbecue ribs.

  Anderson plopped in the chair across from Channing. “Smell that blue crab. How about some crab po’boys?”

  “That sounds good.” Channing clasped her shaking hands, avoiding glares. “You’re something else. Nothing gets to you.”

  “I’m hungry.” He got a napkin from the dispenser and put in his lap. “I don’t care how these people act. As long as they keep their distance I’m fine.”

  “Nate grew up in this diner. Trust me, we’re not welcomed.”

  “Do I look like I care?” Anderson blinked with a cocky smile. “Thought you said at Avon’s people could do what they wanted to you but you’d keep fighting. This is your town as much as it is theirs. Ignore them.” He tapped the table draped in a red and white picnic tablecloth. “Can we get service please?”

  The waitresses behind the counter turned up their noses and whispered at each other.

  “Shit, you’ll be waiting until next year,” Channing muttered. “Not sure I want to order anything. No telling what they’d put in it. Why don’t we go to my parents’ place?”

  “Nope.” Anderson sat back, rocking. “We’re paying customers. We have every right to be here. Service please!”

  “See the tall lady?” Channing alluded to the long-faced woman with droopy eyes and her grayish-black hair in a sloppy ponytail. “That’s Genie. She’s a close friend of Nate’s family.”

  “I don’t care.” Anderson fanned her over and she took her sweet time approaching the table.

  “What are you doing here, Channing?” Genie asked with cigarette breath.

  “I don’t want trouble, Genie.”

  “Hm.” She took her pencil from behind her ear and scratched her head. “If that’s true you’d not have come in here.”

  Anderson’s eyebrows dropped. “Is that how you speak to a customer?”

  “You mess with Nate, you mess with me.” Genie chewed gum. “I’d do anything for him.”

  Channing cleared her throat. “I’m sure you would.”

  “I’m sorry for what happened to your daughter but ruining Nate’s life isn’t gonna solve anything.”

  “The man was driving drunk and ran over my daughter. He left her to die. Are we supposed to forget that because you feel Nate is a great guy? What if my daughter dies?”

  “Your daughter should’ve been looking where she was going.”

  Channing jumped from the table. “What did you say?”

  The customers looked at them.

  “Anderson, we better get out of here,” Channing warned. “Before I do something I won’t regret.”

  “We’re not leaving. Aren’t you the waitress?” he asked Genie. “Then serve us because if you think you’re running us off, you’re wrong.”

  “I’m not serving you as long as you’re with her.”

  “Why don’t you leave, huh?” snarled the man sitting in the booth by the window. “We don’t want you here.”

  “You people are pathetic,” Anderson said. “It’s her daughter fighting for her life. You don’t give a damn about a little girl because she’s black.”

  “It ain’t got nothing to do with color,” a woman snapped.

  “Bullshit,” Anderson said.

  “Nobody wants that girl hurt.” An obese man with a cowboy hat licked barbecue sauce from his finger. “The blacks been jumping to conclusions. They’re the ones turning this into a racial issue.”

  “No matter what we think of Nate, Channing doesn’t deserve this.” A redheaded woman passed her looks of sympathy. “I’m a mother. Many of you are parents. Think of how she feels. I wouldn’t wish what Channing’s going through on anyone.”

  Channing smiled. “Thank you.”

  “You don’t belong here anyway,” the blue-haired woman said. “Even if the stuff with Nate hadn’t happened.”

  “Who are you to tell her where she belongs?” Anderson asked. “I think you all need to mind your damn business.”

  “You don’t run nothing down here, boy.” A dingy man sitting by the pie shelf, picked his teeth with a toothpick. “This ain’t Boston.”

  “Let me get this straight.” The booth guy chuckled. “Are you two dating?”

  The others frowned as if disgusted.

  Toothpick man laughed. “You can’t do no better than her, Abraham?”

  Anderson jumped up and Channing held
him back.

  “I’m not scared of anyone here,” he said.

  “Anderson,” Channing whispered. “This is the south. Even babies carry guns down here. You never know what you’re getting into and many of these men are just needing an excuse to shoot.”

  “Channing, stop, okay? Stop making excuses for these people and fight.”

  “I fight every day, Anderson.” She let him go. “You don’t have to. You can choose your battles but some of us aren’t that lucky. If I got into a brawl every time someone looked at me wrong or called me a racial slur, I’d be fighting all the time. I’m dealing with what’s happened my way and I’m sick of people judging me.”

  “We’re not leaving, Channing.” He looked at Genie. “Get me a blue crab po’boy drowned in tartar sauce, a large fry and a large lemonade with tons of ice.” Anderson sat. “I’m sure you all know I’m Klein’s friend, right? And he’s the mayor’s chief-of-staff?”

  People huffed, intimidating stares vanishing from their faces.

  Anderson flashed a wide-tooth smile at Genie. “Klein wouldn’t like how you’re treating his old buddy from college and neither would Mayor Bordeaux.”

  Channing sat in her chair, a grin tearing at her lips.

  Genie’s bushy eyebrows wrinkled. “You’re threatening us, Abraham?”

  “You want to test me to see?”

  Channing sat up, head high.

  Genie exhaled. “Channing, what will you be having?”

  She flashed a sarcastic smile. “The same as him.”

  Genie jotted on her notepad, her bruised ego showing on her face. “That will be two po’boys, lots of tartar sauce, two large fries, and two large lemonades?”

  Anderson nodded. “With tons of ice.”

  Genie plastered on a smile. “I’ll be right back.” She flounced away, mumbling.

  “Anderson.” Channing laughed, struggling for words to show how much he’d impressed her. “That was incredible. You’re amazing.”

  He leaned forward, lips pursing. “I thought you already knew.”

  She giggled, grabbing a napkin.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  Dex walked into the bedroom of the presidential suite in a slim-fit Kenneth Cole tuxedo and indigo tie that night.

  Sonjay turned from the mirror, hoping his reaction would be what she’d hoped.

  “Wow.” His eyes hung out their sockets.

  “Are you drooling?” She twirled in the clingy, lace red dress that swept the floor. “Do I look as good as you thought I would when you bought it?”

  “Sonny.” He shook his head, gaping. “God, you are so beautiful.”

  His smooth, velvet voice jiggled her insides. “I still don’t understand why we had to dress up if we’re just having dinner in the suite.” Her diamond, chandelier earrings tickled her neck. “You’ve had me in the dark all day. I demand you tell me what’s going on right now.”

  “I can barely talk, let alone explain.” He approached her, his eyes filled with wonderment. “I dream of you every night and even in my dreams you’ve never looked so lovely.”

  She smiled, his stare embarrassing her.

  “I hope to make your dreams come true tonight.” He kissed her hand. “Because you make mine come true every time we’re together.”

  “You always say such sweet things.”

  “Close your eyes.”

  She did, took his hand and followed him, her red stiletto sandals pinching her pinky toes.

  He led her through twists and turns, the sweet aroma of lamb and Pinot Noir alerting her they’d made it to the dining room.

  Dex stopped her. “Open your eyes.”

  The walls were covered with distinguished amber wallpaper sprinkled with gold specks.

  Small crystal chandeliers rained romantic, gold lightening over a luxury dining set while the window boasted a downtown view of Jackson.

  Sonjay clasped her hands and raised them to her face. “I can’t get over how beautiful this place is.”

  A handsome, slender black waiter with malt liquor-toned skin and dimples, held out a chair. “Ma’am.”

  Sonjay giggled at Dex and sat, the soft upholstery cradling her butt.

  Dex sat across from her. “Are you impressed?”

  “I have no words.” Tears snuck from her eyes. “Oh.” She got the napkin and dabbed carefully to not mess up her makeup.

  “Do you believe her?” Dex joked with the waiter. “I’ve put together the most romantic evening in the world and she’s crying.”

  “I’m so happy.” She set the napkin on the table, shaking off the emotional tidal wave. “This is one of the sweetest things anyone’s ever done for me.”

  “Even Klein?”

  “Klein’s always working. He tries though.”

  “Not enough.” Dex snapped his fingers and a pudgy Hispanic man with wide hips and a violin, walked through the side entrance.

  He smiled at the couple and played the most enchanting melody.

  Sonjay gripped her chest, overtaken by emotion. “Dex?”

  “That’s Alexandro.” He rocked his head to the crooning chords. “He’s our entertainment for the evening.”

  “God, Dex.” She fanned her eyes, fearing more tears.

  “Goodness.” Dex shook his head at the waiter who grinned. “Now, what is it with women? They beg us to be romantic and then they spend the night crying.”

  Sonjay chuckled between sniffles. “I’m sorry.”

  The waiter removed the silver domes from the plates.

  Juicy lamb chops sat on a mountain of grilled vegetables, drizzled with orange sauce.

  “Hm.” Sonjay sniffed, the orange aroma making her dizzy. “Whoa.”

  Dex leaned forward. “Are you all right?”

  “Do you need something, Miss Mills?” the waiter asked.

  “I’m fine.” She swallowed, focusing her vision. “I got dizzy.”

  “Are you sick?” Dex asked.

  “No, no.” Her forehead felt clammy. “I haven’t been getting much rest so that could be why.” She pressed the napkin to her face. “I’ll be all right.”

  “Might be something you need to take seriously,” Dex said. “Have you eaten today?”

  “Yeah.” She finished wiping her face. “I ate. I’m fine, Dex.”

  “How long has this been going on?”

  “A few weeks. Forget it. I said I’m fine.”

  He sat back, watching her while pulling his lip.

  She got her fork and knife. “I love lamb.”

  “I know that’s why we’re having it.”

  The waiter lit the candles on the table, while Alexandro played without missing a beat.

  “Well, I’ll try to have good manners.” Sonjay sniffed the food again. “As delicious as this looks, I make no promises.”

  Dex thrust his hand toward her. “Wait.”

  “What?” she asked in mid-chew.

  “I wanted to wait until after dinner but there’s no way.” He scooted his chair from the table and stood. “I could make some big, overblown speech about how you make the sun shine brighter and the sky bluer but I won’t. I could say a million times over how much I love you but I won’t.”

  She swallowed, setting her the fork on the plate.

  “We’re past that and you know how I feel about you.” He walked to her and took her hand. “Tonight can’t be like the other nights. I can’t spend this special moment with you and let you go home to him, no. Not until I put all my cards on the table.” He got on one knee, lifting her hand.

  Oh no. Fuck no. This can’t be happening. Is he really doing this?

  Dex dug inside his tuxedo jacket and took out a ring-sized box. “Sonjay Elisha Mills.”

  “Oh god.” She closed her eyes, quaking with hot flashes. “Don’t. Please don’t.”

  “You want this. I know you do. Sonjay, will you marry me?” He opened the box.

  An oval diamond ring surrounded by baby diamonds, sparkled so bright it hurt Sonjay
’s eyes.

  “Will you marry me?” He slipped the ring on her finger. “I love you so much, Sonjay. Will you be my wife and let me make you happier than any man ever could?”

  Instead of wrapping her arms around him like she did when Dex proposed to her in her dreams, she jumped from the table, screaming.

  Alexandro jerked, the violin screeching.

  “What the fuck are you doing, Dex?” She grabbed her head. “Are you crazy?”

  He stood, glancing at the men. “This isn’t the reaction I anticipated.”

  “Dex, Dex, Dex.” Sonjay walked in a circle, covering her eyes. “You’ve lost your mind. I can’t marry you!”

  “You love me, right? Then you can damn well marry me and you will.”

  She slapped her thigh. “I’m engaged to your best friend or have you forgotten?”

  Alexandro and the waiter gaped.

  “I hate hurting Klein but no woman’s made me happier than you have.”

  “Dex, stop.” She leaned over the table, needing to hurl. “Think.”

  “I’m tired of fucking thinking,” he shouted. “I’m sick of waiting for you to leave him.” He grabbed her. “I’m sick of waiting for you to be mine. I love you more than Klein ever will. My heart bleeds for you. I’d do anything for you, Sonjay. Anything.”

  “Let go of me.” She pushed him. “This isn’t some fairytale, Dex. You can’t just snap your fingers and expect Klein to go away.”

  “Leave his ass.” He pointed to the window. “When you get home, sit his ass down and tell him you wanna be with me.”

  “I can’t hurt him like that.”

  “You’re hurting me.” He clutched his chest. “I can’t keep sharing you.”

  “I’m sorry.” She sat at the table, sobbing.

  “Get out,” Dex ordered the men.

  Alexandro and the waiter looked at each other.

  “Get the fuck out!”

  They hurried out the room.

  “It’s over tonight, Sonjay.” Dex threw the box on the table. “You’re choosing tonight. You’re gonna stay with me or go home to Klein and never see me again. Which is it?”

  Dex tossed a chair and stomped to the window.