by Stacy-Deanne
“Anderson, you don’t live in reality.”
“You can’t hide forever.” He reached for her but pulled his hand back. “You’re destined for way more than stacking groceries. Stop putting yourself behind everyone else. If you don’t take this chance now, then it’ll be too late.”
“Dreams don’t work out for people like me.”
“That’s another excuse. You can do anything, Channing.”
“Where would Presley and I stay?”
“With me.”
She gaped.
“I’ll be there for you, Channing. Don’t you trust me?”
“Yes.” Her mouth twitched. “But, there’s still a lot we don’t know about each other. Moving to another city with a man, is scary, Anderson. It’s too much.”
“I don’t get you. I’m giving you the opportunity to take a chance and you won’t even try?”
“I don’t need some hotshot reporter who just met me telling me what I need to do. I am who I am and if you don’t like it you know where the door is.”
“Don’t get pissed because I’m making you see what you don’t want to.” He slid the bottle to the center of the table. “I’m not apologizing because everything I said was true.”
“Then get the hell out my house.”
“Okay, fine.” He stood, shrugging. “But, don’t shortchange yourself. You deserve more than this. Trying something and failing is a hell of a lot better than not trying.”
“Goodbye, Anderson.” She rolled her eyes. “We can talk tomorrow.”
“Nah.” He lumbered to the doorway. “Might not be a good idea to keep hanging around you.”
“What?”
“Not in the mood to have my heart broken.”
“So unless I do what you want we can’t be friends?”
“I’m trying to get you to see how wonderful you are and it’s frustrating you don’t realize it.”
She sat back, sighing.
“It’s your life, Channing, and you’re the only one who can change it. So don’t blame others if you don’t.”
****
“No, Boyd.” Odelia blocked him from posting the flyer for Khadija’s march in the restaurant the next day. “We’re getting ready to open. I don’t want that up in here.”
He hung the flyer anyway. “We need as much of the community involved, sugar pie. Everyone should be at that march.”
“You’re acting like an old fool.” She straightened the tables. “All this carrying on with Khadija has gotten on my last nerve.”
He brushed his potbelly against her colossal hip. “Don’t be jealous because a fine, young woman is showing me attention.”
“Khadija? Please, she ain’t thinking about you. All she cares about is publicity. As soon as Presley’s old news she’ll be gone.”
“Stop misjudging her.” Boyd followed Odelia through the tables as she cleaned. “She’s got more drive than anyone I’ve seen when it comes to helping the community. I want you to come to the march.”
“No, thank you.” She wiped off a saltshaker. “Khadija’s making a media spectacle of my grandbaby so she can make a name for herself.”
“What do you and Channing have against the media? If it weren’t for the press, no one would know about Presley. Once we force Mayor Bordeaux to get involved, let’s see what you say then.”
“I won’t be saying nothing.” She wiped off the jar of giant pickles beside the register. “Because a bunch of morons walking down the street, barking with signs won’t persuade the mayor. You’re just embarrassing yourself, Boyd.” She went behind the counter.
“At least I’m doing something.”
Odelia darted to the window. “What the hell?”
“What?”
“Is that Avon’s boy and his lousy friends?”
Boyd looked through the window.
Zayden headed toward the restaurant with Morris and Tilly.
“Oh hell no.” Boyd rushed to the door. “They ain’t bringing their asses up in here and not after what he did to Channing.”
“Boyd.” Odelia held him from behind. “Don’t cause no trouble and they’ll leave.”
“Trouble my ass. This is our restaurant and I don’t want them in it.”
Odelia pulled Boyd from the door when Zayden and his friends entered.
“You got to be crazy.” Boyd gave him the evil eye. “Did you fall on your head today, boy?”
“Is that how you treat a customer?” Zayden grinned, chewing gum. “We want food.”
“That’s good.” Boyd nodded fast. “But you ain’t getting none here.”
“Hey Danny Glover?” Morris laughed. “What’s your problem?”
“Danny Glover?” Boyd rocked back and forth. “Delia, did he call me Danny Glover?”
“Ah, he made a mistake.” Tilly winked. “Don’t blame him. Isn’t his fault you all look alike.”
Boyd lunged at him and Odelia grabbed him.
“We’re not open yet,” she said. “Please leave.”
“No.” Zayden sat at the table with the others. “We want some food. Get us some menus and be quick about it.”
“Odelia.” Boyd balled fists, shivering with rage.
“Hey, boy.” Tilly snapped his fingers at Boyd. “Get us some menus. Let’s see if the food is as good as people say.”
“Boy?” Boyd snapped. “Odelia, you expect me to put up with this shit in our own place?”
“Yes.” She crossed her arms, groaning. “Because I ain’t got money to bail you out of jail.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
“Zayden,” Boyd said. “You got two seconds to get out of my restaurant.”
He leaned back in the chair and put his feet on the table. “Our money no good here?”
“Isn’t that a switch?” Morris asked. “I bet when you were growing up they didn’t serve your ass in a lot of these places either. Now you turn around and refuse us service?”
“That’s what the world’s coming to though,” Zayden said. “Reverse racism. It’s a crime to be a white man.”
Boyd exhaled as Odelia rubbed his shoulders.
“Breath,” she whispered. “Don’t do nothing stupid.”
“You guys uppity just like Channing,” Zayden said. “I see where she gets it from.”
“She’s a fox.” Morris wiggled with a lewd glint in his eye. “Wouldn’t mind sampling some of that.”
“Watch it,” Boyd said.
“And what about that other one?” Zayden whistled. “The school teacher? Man is she sexy.”
“Mm hmm.” Tilly wagged his tongue and laughed. “The teachers weren’t that sexy when I was in elementary.”
“Oh, you mean you’re not anymore?” Boyd asked.
Odelia snickered under her hand.
“Yep, Sonjay is something else.” Zayden moaned. “Does she like younger guys because I’d love to do some late-night tutoring with her. I better be careful though. Might lose her when I turn the lights off.”
The guys guffawed.
“You bastard.” Boyd reached for his neck but Odelia grabbed him.
“Leave.” Odelia stepped in front of Boyd. “We’re not serving you here.”
“Well, well.” Zayden stood, eyeing Odelia. “Mrs. Mills, I can see where your daughters get their good looks from.”
Boyd pushed her behind him. “Say one more thing to my wife and they’ll be scraping you off this floor.”
“Don’t you have better things to do than cause trouble, Zayden?” Odelia asked.
Zayden sat and leaned back, grabbing his head. “Channing is the one causing trouble.”
“No,” Boyd said. “Nate Lancaster started this mess and no one else.”
“Go,” Odelia said. “Please.”
“You’re refusing to serve us?” Tilly pretended to be offended. “Isn’t that discrimination?”
They laughed.
“It’s discrimination if we don’t serve you because of the color of your skin.” Odelia smiled. “Not
if we don’t serve you because you’re assholes.”
“Get out.” Boyd shoved the table. “I’m warning you.”
“Calm down, old man,” Morris said. “Before you have a heart attack or something.”
“Yeah.” Zayden snapped his fingers. “Tell your mammy here to get me something to eat.”
Odelia shrieked, “Mammy?”
The guys laughed.
“I got your mammy.” Boyd snatched Zayden’s neck, yanking him from the chair. “Don’t hold me back, Delia.”
“Oh I won’t. Kick his ass. Who is he calling ‘mammy’?”
“Get your ass out of here.” Boyd dragged Zayden out the door and tossed him to the sidewalk. “Leave while you still got a chance.”
The others scurried out the restaurant and helped Zayden.
“If you come back here again,” Boyd said. “I’ll beat the dog shit out of all of you. Get the hell on.” He lunged at them, raising his fist. “Move it!”
“Come on.” Tilly nudged Zayden and ran off after Morris.
Boyd stared at Zayden, his shoulders in the air. “You still here?”
Zayden spit his gum on the pavement. “You’ve dug your grave now, old man.” He glanced at Odelia, nodding. “I hope you’re ready for this war.”
He walked away, rubbing his neck.
****
Channing entered Presley’s room, exchanging smiles with Rickie the nurse. “Hi, sweetie.” She pulled the bouquet of pink carnations from behind her back. “Look at what Mommy brought you.” She set the flowers on the table by the window stuffed with gifts. “All these presents.” Channing stroked Presley’s head. “How has she been?”
“Great.” Rickie’s scrubs made a noise as she waltzed her plump self to the bed, her gold hair wrapped in a tight bun. “We had to change her catheter because it was leaking.” She checked Presley’s feeding tube.
“You’ve been upbeat. Would it have something to do with Mr. Abraham?”
Channing noticed her hands blushing. “Mind your business.”
Rickie giggled. “Your mood has changed big time since he came to town. It’s like you remember you have a life again.”
“Not sure he’ll want to see me again after the fight we had last night. It was my fault.”
“Something tells me you’ll be seeing him again.” A smile peeked through Rickie’s puffy cheeks. “He cares about you a lot. I can tell when he visits Presley.”
“He’s shown more love for her in the short while he’s been here than her father has ever since she was born. People say I’m strong.” Channing stroked her daughter’s hand. “Presley’s the strong one.”
“She’ll come out of this.” Rickie hugged Channing. “You can’t give up hope.”
“I’d give anything for this to be over.” Channing sniffled. “Anything.”
“Rickie?” a female spoke over the PA system. “Please report to the nurse’s station. Rickie, please report to the nurse’s station.”
“Uh-oh.” Channing dabbed her eyes. “You in trouble?”
“Nah.” Rickie flounced to the door, scrubs sounding like plastic. “At least I hope not. I’ll be back.”
“Okay.”
Rickie left and hurried back into the room a moment later, her face wrecked with shock. “Someone wants to see Presley. It’s Nate Lancaster. I told him you wouldn’t approve—”
“Let him in.”
“What?”
“I want him to see the damage he’s done.”
Rickie hesitated before going to the door. “You can come in.”
“Hi.” Nate’s baseball cap hid his eyes, but Channing felt his gaze on her. “This is for Presley.” He held out a fuzzy, red teddy bear.
Channing sat stiff, refusing to show emotion. “Sit it on the table with the other gifts.”
He set the bear on a pile of dolls. “Jeez all these toys.” His moan hinted to his despair. “She’s loved.”
“Is all you wanted was to bring the bear?” Channing struggled to keep her temper as the man who’d left her daughter to die pawed Presley’s gifts.
Nate dropped his head. “Can I see stay a while?”
Channing nodded at Rickie who left the room.
“Man, I hate how hospitals smell.” Nate sunk his hands deep into his denim pockets. “Always gets to me. Disinfectant.”
“Be respectful and take off your cap.”
He touched it. “No.”
“Why? Because you don’t want me to see the shame in your eyes?”
“Channing, I didn’t come here to make trouble.”
“Then why are you here?”
He inched toward the bed smelling of salami and indignity.
“Your clothes are disgusting.”
He pulled at his dingy, dark gray hoodie.
“Your hair, do you even try to comb it, Nate? Those pants look like they haven’t been washed in months. Is this some ploy for people to feel sorry for you? You used to care about how you looked. Wasn’t much you cared about besides that, football, and food.”
“Insult me.” He nodded. “I deserve it.”
“You deserve a lot more than that.”
“True but you couldn’t find words to say that’s worse than what I say to myself.” He went to the other side of the bed. “I’ve been reading about people in comas. They can hear you, and they have vibrations. She can tell we’re here.”
“I’m trying so hard not to wrap my fingers around your throat.”
“I welcome it.” His lips tightened. “Death would be an improvement. I’m sorry, Channing.” He shook his head. “I am so sorry.”
“Should I be grateful? The only way you can make things right is if you were lying in this bed instead of my daughter. What in hell made you could come here? Because you saved me and Anderson from your crazy cousin? Is that supposed to erase what you’ve done?”
“No.” He raised his head, revealing tears. “No matter what I do or say, nothing will change this. Lord knows I’ve tried to erase it, Channing. I’ve tried to make it go away, but it hasn’t.”
“You want it to go away to ease your guilt?”
“I want her to grow up and have kids.” He wept, shuddering. “I can’t live with being the one who ruins her life.”
Channing just stared at him. Part of her aching for him while the other celebrated his grief.
“She’ll make it.” He took off his cap and squeezed it to his chest. “She’ll go to college, fall in love and give you grandchildren. Trust me.”
Channing fought tears.
“Channing, I need you to believe I’m sorry.” He got on his knees before her, lowering his head. “Please, believe that. Forgive me, please.”
“Nate.”
“Please.” He grabbing her into a smothering hug. “I don’t care about nothing else just say you forgive me. I got no right to ask but I need you to.”
“Let me go—”
“I’ll do the right thing by Presley.” He squeezed her, wailing. “I promise.”
“What are you talking about?”
He didn’t speak for a moment and then stood, putting on his cap. “Presley’s suffering won’t be in vain.” He went to the door. “I’m sorry again, Channing.”
“What did you meant?” She stood. “How will you do the right thing?”
He watched her with half-closed eyes. “When Presley wakes up, tell her I’m sorry.”
He left, leaving Channing to wrestle with his baffling admission.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
Channing paced in her living room that night, jumping at every car that passed, hoping it was Anderson.
She grabbed her head, not being able to get Sonjay’s phone call out her head.
Nate Lancaster had taken his life with a bullet, and Channing’s soul ached with remorse and pity realizing why her forgiveness had been so important.
“He knew he was going to do it.” She covered her trembling lips. “That’s why he came to the hospital.”
A car pulled into the driveway, and she yanked open her front door.
Anderson hopped onto the porch and Channing jumped into his arms. “Are you all right?”
“You came.”
“Of course I did. You can’t blame yourself.”
“I said I wanted him to die.” She pulled him through the doorway, still holding him. “God, I didn’t mean it.”
He took her to the couch and set her on the indigo cushion. “Look at me.”
“I can’t.”
He clasped her cheeks. “Nate took his own life, and it wasn’t your fault. Presley is the victim in this.”
“They’re both victims, Anderson.” She sniffed. “Nate is dead because he couldn’t handle what happened. Yes, I said I hated him but I didn’t mean it. I wanted him to pay for what he’d done. Damn it, why did he do it?” She walked to the ivy plant snuggled in the corner by the sash window. “I should’ve known when he came to the hospital.”
“He was at the hospital?”
“Came to see Presley this morning.” She stroked the ivy’s flat leaves. “He wanted me to forgive him so he could go in peace. There are no winners in this.” She sat beside him. “How did you find out?”
“Klein called me.”
“Where were you?”
“Interviewing people for the story. It’s amazing how many opinions you’ll get about a situation.”
As shocking to her as it probably was to him, Channing kissed him, guided by a need so great she’d die if she didn’t fulfill it. “I don’t wanna talk.”
Narrowing his eyes, he took her waist, ramming his lips against hers.
His kisses made everything disappear: Nate’s suicide, her feelings of inadequacy, any confusion as to if this were right or wrong. Nothing mattered when she was in Anderson’s arms. He’d been the rescue she’d needed. That bridge of security every woman longed for in the man who loved them.
He tugged at her cotton tank top as she flung off his shirt.
They wrestled each other out of their clothes, clawing and scratching because they couldn’t get the other naked fast enough.
He got on one knee, his mouth ravaging the nipples of her petite, pear-shaped breasts.
“Mm.” She massaged his golden hair, nervous of being with a man again.
“Sh.” He sucked her nipple while staring her in the eyes. “It’s okay, Channing. This is right.”