by J. Nichole
He squints his eyebrows then points to the window. “Man, I’ve been sleep. Obviously you haven’t.” I turn to look at the sun shining through the window. “Have you been up all night working on this?”
Focusing on the painting I realize I have been at it for a while. I took the canvas that had a few elements on it and now it’s completely painted. Obviously it’s far from complete, but it’s been a while since I’ve painted, and I lost track of time. “Guess I have been up all night. You know how I get when I’m in my groove.”
Chris walks around the room admiring other pieces. “No, you started all this while I was in college. Mom bragged about some of your pieces, and I’ve seen a few but never realized how deep your passion ran.” He stands behind me and asks again, “And this one?”
“Even more than my creativity, I amaze myself with my memory.” I look at the detail of the dress. “She wore this dress the day before she left New York.”
“Still can’t win her over?” I shake my head. “She called Laila the other night. Something about being ready to settle down.”
“What? She found someone?” He hunches his shoulders and walks toward the door.
“I don’t know if she found someone but maybe if you try a little harder she’ll be ready for you.” Try a little harder? Says the guy who didn’t have to do much for his live-in girlfriend to fall madly in love with him. If I remember Laila’s recollection correctly, his approach to her was a major turn-off but she was already attracted to him. Lucky bastard.
“Too bad you can’t give me any advice,” I say walking behind him to the kitchen. “I don’t even know what I’m saying. Do I really want to be with the same woman for any stretch of time?”
“You’re right. I can’t give you any advice.” He starts a pot of coffee. “I’ve never been a playboy trying to get a playgirl.” He opens and shuts most of my cabinets before realizing there isn’t any food. “Bryan, the cabinets are empty. Did you ever grocery shop?”
I shake my head. “For the most part I ate out. Or crashed Mom’s for dinner.” He leans against the counter looking defeated. I feel the night weighing on me. “I’m going to get a few hours of sleep in, and then we can go to Mom and Dad’s before hitting the streets.” I smile at the idea of us roaming the streets together. Before I left for college, Chris was too young to hang with me, and when I came back, our parent’s didn’t want me to corrupt him his last years of high school.
“We should probably pick up David too.” I smirk. “I know he probably won’t be up for hanging with us.” David, a few years older than me, acts more like an uncle than an older brother at times.
Walking to my room I say, “Wake me in a few hours.”
Just as I get comfortable, naked across my bed with the sheet covering my waist, my phone goes off, a message notification that I contemplate ignoring until the second notification alerts me.
Mrs. Davenport: I hear you are in town.
I thought my Mom was done communicating with Mrs. Davenport; at least I would have assumed she would have been done talking to her after our shit hit the fan.
Bryan: Just for the weekend. Grabbing my art supplies.
I turn the sound of my phone off and roll over. Nothing Mrs. Davenport could say right now is enough to keep me awake.
By the second blow to my head I swing my arm in the air aiming to hit whoever is in arm’s reach. “What the fuck,” Chris says. “You still sleep naked.” He throws a blanket over me. “Get up, you’ve been sleep long enough. Mom’s been blowing me up.”
Chris is dressed and standing above me. “Okay. Okay. I’m up.” Chris doesn’t budge. “Unless you want to see how God had no more to bless you with after me you should move.”
Chris laughs and throws another pillow at me then walks out the door. While the water heats up in the shower I look over the messages from Mrs. Davenport. Even after all she risked the first time around, she still wants to see me. Mr. Davenport happens to conveniently be out of town too. Shit, who am I to neglect her?
Bryan: I’ll meet you there at ten.
“Like out in public?” Chris asks. I nod my head as I drive down the street to our parent’s house. “Yeah that’s probably the worst idea you ever had.” He claps his hands together. “Actually, the second worst idea. The first being your random move to New York.”
“All the other old people of the city should be sleep around then anyway. And Mr. Davenport is out of town.” I park in the driveway and say, “Let’s make this quick.” I look over at David’s car. “See if your punk ass brother will leave with us.”
My mom greets us at the door with her arms wide open ready to receive us, as always. “Is that what grown people do in New York?” Chris and I exchange a look before she continues, “Sleep in all day.” She ushers us into the door. “I had breakfast ready for you both, but I could only hold off your dad and David for so long before they devoured it.”
“Aw Ma, you didn’t have to do all that,” I say, wrapping my arm around her shoulders.
She looks over her shoulder at Chris walking behind us. “Who are you kidding, honey, I know you have no food at that house. Starving my baby. I know he has to be hungry.”
“You got that right, Ma,” Chris says as he bombards the kitchen.
Before my dad appears I ask my mom, “Why’d you tell Mrs. Davenport I was in town?” She looks up at me with her mouth agape.
“Bryan, I was at the grocery store picking up food for you boys. I ran into her on my way out and let my excitement get the best of me.” She rolls her eyes. “I didn't think she was bold enough to say anything to you.”
“It’s cool, Ma.” Of course I won’t tell her the plans I have for Mrs. Davenport tonight. I’ll keep those details to myself. “What else did you grab from the store?” I ask wriggling my brows.
“Should have been here for that breakfast.” David rises from the bar stool to embrace me. “Ma went all out… we had biscuits and gravy, bacon, omelets, fresh fruit, fresh squeezed orange juice.”
Chris shuts the refrigerator and says, “And y’all ate it all?” He leans against the counter with a glass of orange juice. “I’m going to need to get some food quick or I’m going to be one angry…” He stops mid-sentence to make eye contact with Mom.
Mom looks Chris square in the eye and says, “Little boy. I’m done for the day. You better ask one of your brothers to take you out for lunch.” She makes her round of hugs before exiting the kitchen.
I look at David and Chris and say, “Let’s get out of here.”
David puts his hand up interrupting me. He says, “Out before you even speak to Dad.” He snickers. “We’ll be hearing about that for too long. At least stop by his office before we leave out.”
Chris nods in agreement. “Yeah we have to give Pops some love or we’ll never hear the end of it.”
We find our dad signing papers in his office. I tap on the door and he looks up with a smile on his face. Waving us in he says, “Come on in boys.” He looks at each of us and says, “It’s been a while since I’ve had all three of you together.” He puts his pen down and leans back in his chair. His eyes are weary and his hair is grayer than before I left Tennessee. After all these years, his age is catching up to him. “I didn’t realize how much I miss the full house.” My dad being emotional?
Growing up my mom was the natural nurturer. Our dad was always the hard worker, making sure we had everything we needed and lecturing us on the things we wanted before giving in and buying them for us. We rarely saw him excited about our accomplishments, but he made sure we knew when we disappointed him. Thankfully, my mom swooped in after he expressed his thoughts.
“Where are y’all headed?” my dad asks.
“I need some food in my stomach. Bryan had nothing, not even a cracker in his house.” Chris looks at me with his eyebrow raised. “Then he had the nerve to sleep too long and make me miss Mom’s breakfast.” Chris turns to look at my dad, who is laughing.
“That sounds
about right. When Bryan was here he stayed in the kitchen rummaging for anything your mother cooked.” My dad rubs his stomach. “But sorry y’all had to miss out on breakfast; your mother showed out as usual.”
Chris stands up and says, “All this talk of food is just making things worse.” He walks behind Dad’s desk, giving him a hug. Dad stands from his seat and moves to the front of the desk leaning against it. David hugs him next and they both walk out of the office.
I stand next, ready to give my dad a hug, but he stops me. “Give me just a minute, Bryan.” His voice is a bit sterner than it had been a few minutes ago. I’m ready for him to tell me about how I’ve let him down in life. My shoulders hunch over and I sit back down. “We didn’t have a chance to talk about your departure from the company. I can’t tell you how surprised I was to hear that you were leaving. And suddenly.”
“Dad, I needed to get out of here and if I thought about it for too long I wouldn’t make any moves.”
Nodding his head he says, “I understand. You’ve always gone against the grain.” He smiles widely and the tension that had started building in my shoulders is released. “Something they say about middle children.” My dad being a middle child should know all about the characteristics we share. “You know you can always come back. But I hope you are successful with your art.” He looks around his office then back to me. “Maybe you can find time to create a piece for the office.”
I nod my head and smile. Standing I pull him into a hug, and I know he’s finally come around to accept my decision to leave the company. “We’ll stop by before we leave tomorrow.”
He pats my back and says, “You better.”
David and Chris are leaning against my car. “Time for some food,” I say to Chris as I climb into the driver’s seat. David climbs into the passenger seat beside me. “David you hanging tonight?”
The smirk on his face gives me all the answer I need but I egg him on anyway. “What’s the rush to get home, old man?” He looks at me with a smirk on his face. “We are only in town for one more night. You need to kick it with us.” I look in the rearview mirror at Chris and continue, “Besides next time you see your brother he may be on serious lock down.”
David says, “What?” Turning around to face Chris he asks, “You ready to get married?”
“You know your brother. Always running his mouth. He may beat me down the aisle.” David turns to me with his mouth wide open.
“You mean Mr. Don Juan himself? Settling down? I won’t ever believe that myth,” David says, followed by a gut-wrenching laugh.
“Good don’t. It’s as fake as Santa Claus and the Tooth Fairy.” I put the car in park at Tupelo Honey and say, “But he’s being modest about his relationship with Laila. I won’t be surprised if we aren’t groomsmen by next year.” I slap David’s gut and say, “Make sure you get that under control. Don’t want to look a mess in your tux.” Chris laughs as he gets out of the car.
The basket of biscuits that the waitress delivers to our table is practically gone before she takes our food order. David catches us up with the behind the scenes action happening at the company. When I was in the office there was always a fair share of drama. The ladies who varied in age kept a mouthful of gossip about one another.
David, favoring my dad more as he ages, shifts in his seat. “One of the gossiping ladies told me that Mr. Davenport is looking to sell their Tennessee properties again.” I look up from my Bloody Mary and listen as he continues. “They think he’s about to liquidate his assets before divorcing the missus. Of course all speculation.” He eyes me and waits for my response.
“Better be careful meeting that woman tonight.” Chris looks at me then laughs. “I’d hate for Mr. Davenport to be trailing her to prove her indiscretions so he can avoid paying her in the divorce.”
David coughs then says, “You’re meeting up with her tonight?” He, like my dad, was beyond pissed about the affair and all the negative attention it brought to our firm. “Dad just got over everything that happened.”
“Man, I don’t plan on doing anything with that woman,” I say to David before looking over at Chris with the big mouth. “And if someone follows us they won’t have any proof of what we’ll be doing.” Our food arrives to the table and thankfully they are both too captivated with eating to say anything further about my meeting tonight.
On our way out of the restaurant we bump into one of the gossiping ladies from the firm. “Bryan, Chris. Good to see you both. I heard you all were going to be here this weekend.” She eyes both of us then says, “Looking good.” Looking at David she leans in and gives him a lingering hug.
Outside we question David about the chick. David has always been one to keep his love life close to his heart. As far as we know he isn’t in a relationship, but like me, he could be messing around with a few girls. “It’s nothing,” he says, keeping his response too short to be believable, but we let him have it.
My phone rings after dropping off David at my parent’s house. “Bryan.” I recognize her voice although I haven’t heard it in a while, even through what sounds like whimpering. “Can we meet earlier?” she asks.
I look over at Chris before pulling out of the driveway. With my hand over the mouthpiece I ask him, “Mind if I flake on our plans?”
He yawns and shakes his head. Grabbing the handle of the door he says, “I’ll stick around here. Pick me up later.” With his hand still on the door he looks at me and says, “Don’t do anything to get yourself caught up.”
“Same place,” I ask her. She confirms and I head in the direction of the bar. My original plan to stay out of sight of anyone who would recognize her is diminished by meeting her this early.
Inside the bar there are people sitting at the surrounding tables and only a few at the bar. I find a seat away from the others and wait for Mrs. Davenport to arrive. While I’m waiting, I notice one of the older ladies I painted a picture for sitting across from me at the bar, one of Mrs. Davenport’s close friends. She appears to be closing out her check and preparing to leave. To avoid awkward contact I keep my eyes on my drink until I hear her walk out.
“Bryan, thank you for coming earlier,” I hear Mrs. Davenport say from behind me. “Mind if we get a table?” I turn around to face her, noticing her always perfect face is distressed. Her make-up is smeared and her hair looks like she was caught in a storm on her way into the bar.
“Are you okay,” I ask as I pull out her chair at the table. “What’s going on?” Concerned I look over my shoulder to check the surrounding tables for anyone who may have noticed her come in and sit with me.
“It’s Alonzo.” Her husband’s name makes me cringe. I’ve never been on a first name basis with him, and after our affair I definitely kept his name far from my thoughts. “I think he’s leaving me.”
“Where is all of this coming from? What happened?” I lean forward in my seat and place my hand near hers. She slides her hand off the table raking it through her hair.
“I found out that he was selling the properties here in Tennessee.” She looks to me and I raise my brows to fake concern, although this isn’t news to me. “When I confronted him about it tonight he told me it was time for us to go our separate ways and he had no plans of remaining here in Tennessee.” The man is ruthless, especially considering her infidelity was to spite him because of his.
“Mrs…” I stop and correct myself; she’s never cared for me being formal with her. “Veronica, you have a lot going on. Do you think it’s a good idea for us to be out?” I look at her to gauge her reaction. “Together?”
Her head swings back and she laughs. “Really, Bryan, what more do I have to lose?” With wealth, comes power, and Mr. Davenport has plenty of money. Her lifestyle as she knows it could be over. “Have time for a drink?” She smiles. “Or two?”
I nod my head and we order drinks and I fill her in on my life in New York. She’s most interested in the art I’ve done since I’ve been there and is disappointed to he
ar that it’s been minimal. After our second drink she asks, “Follow me to the hotel?” I hesitate until her finger rubs circles into the back of my hand. My body reacts before my mouth can verbalize a response.
When I agree I tell her to go ahead of me while I close out the tab. She puts a room key in my hand and whispers, “Room 405,” then stands and walks out of the bar.
On my drive to the hotel I contemplate what’s about to happen next. Mrs. Davenport is passionate in the sheets; for her age she’s more flexible than most girls I’ve dealt with half her age. But the aftermath may not be worth the reward. My dad will probably digress, my mom will certainly be disappointed, and Mr. Davenport who knows what will happen if he finds out about us this time around.
She opens the door dressed in a sheer black robe. Her hair has been combed, her make-up has been removed, and she looks better than she did at the bar. She pulls me into the room by my hand. Once I’m inside she releases it and grabs my face, pulling it into hers, kissing me with her body flush against mine.
Of course my body responds, and my hands begin to roam her body, exploring her bare breasts, taking my time with each of them before leading a trail to her stomach and finally between her legs. She moans in response, her body moving closer to mine. We inch closer to the bed as our kiss deepens. When she lays across the bed, and her robe falls open to expose her nakedness, I pause.
“Bryan, baby, what’s wrong?” All the potential responses to that question rush my thoughts at once and I just shake my head. “I thought you wanted this is as much as I did.”
Instead of shaking my head this time I say, “I did.” Closing my eyes and taking a deep breath I continue. “I just can’t.”
“Don’t worry about Alonzo. I told you, we’re done. Won’t have to worry about his backlash. Ever.” Although that should concern me, it doesn’t and my eyes narrow as she stares at me.
“Oh Bryan, is it someone else?” She closes her robe and pats the bed beside her. “I didn’t recognize it until now. Before you were living wild and free, but you found someone in New York, didn’t you?”