Authors: Andrea Jackson
She kicked off her shoes before she walked on bare feet across the cool, polished wooden floor. The room was decorated in Pier One exotic style.
She withdrew from a small shopping bag containers filled with prepared shrimp and pasta salads she had purchased on the way home and set them out on the countertop bar.
Key followed and began to peel them open with interest. “I came over because I was hungry. What have you got?” He made a disgusted face. “Yuck, girl food.”
“Buy your own, then. Are you listening to what happened today?”
“What?”
“I caught Shonté and Doctor
Dawg
doing the wild thing on top of a copier in the copier room.”
Key stared at her. “Oh, no, she didn’t!”
“I’m not kidding. They weren’t actually doing the deed, but it was pretty damn close. I don’t know what would have happened if I hadn’t walked in.”
“And what did they say?” Key went to the kitchen, rummaging for a fork.
“Nothing. Doctor
Dawg
ran off and Shont
é shrugged me off. What am I going to do, Key?”
“Listen, Shortcake, you can’t be her momma all the time. You need to let her make her own mistakes. That’s what experience is all about.”
Only a man as big and powerful looking as Keyandré could call Crystal “Shortcake” without sounding ridiculous. She was 5’9” in her bare feet and definitely not petite in build. It had been his nickname for her as long as she could remember, making her feel cherished and protected. He was just as sweet with Shonté. She knew he loved his sister and would do anything for her. He simply didn’t understand how vulnerable Shonté was.
“But I can’t wait for Shonté to ruin her life! I’ve always looked out for her, been there for her.”
Key shoved a forkful of food into his mouth and chewed, all the while watching her. He swallowed and spoke. “Why do you feel the need to take care of
her
life, Taylor?”
“What do you mean?”
“Maybe she doesn’t want to live her life the way you’ve pictured it.”
“What’s so wrong with my picture?”
He shook his head. “It’s not your life. Anyway, what makes you the expert? Look at your own life.”
She was fuming by now. “What’s wrong with my life?”
“You were telling me just the other day how tired you are of being alone.”
“But I don’t want to date a married man. I want someone nice, like Graham.”
He grimaced. “Taylor, all the guys you go out with are nice. Safe. They’re sponges. You tell them what to do, what to think and when they’ve made themselves into your perfect little puppet, you’re tired of them.”
“That’s not true!”
“Gary Clapton?”
“He moved to Phoenix.” Theirs had been an unadorned sexual romp. She remembered not missing him much when he moved.
“Admit it, you were bored with him.”
“Well….”
He nodded emphatically. “Boring. How about Eric Light?”
No, they never had grown to be more than friendly companions. “We just…grew apart.”
“Um-hm. And that dude back in college, the one who was studying to be a computer engineer?”
“Now he was gay!” Crystal had lost her virginity to that boy. To her shock, the sex was a complete letdown. She was almost relieved when he confessed, with a river of tears, that he thought he was gay. Crystal comforted his tears, assured him of her forgiveness and found him a boyfriend.
“But safe, right? All nice guys, right?”
“Yes.”
“But you don’t miss any of them, do you?”
“Okay, you’ve made your point,” she said with a sigh. She’d gone out with other men, but there’d been nothing special, as Key was pointing out.
Sitting on a stool at the counter, she propped her chin on her palm. Maybe he was right. Trevor Devlin sure wasn’t the safe type. He was dangerous and sexy. Was that what attracted Shonté
?
But he would ruin Shonté’s life. He was making her sneaky and angry, pulling her away from Crystal. Crystal had protected Shonté since they were in middle school together. Whether the crisis was major or minor, they shared.
Her resolve hardened. She wouldn’t allow that to happen. Crystal’s two best friends since her early teens had been Shonté Emerson and her brother Keyandré. She wasn’t about to let anything—especially something like sex—endanger that friendship. No one else, not even Key, understood how badly some of her escapades had damaged Shonté. Besides, she couldn’t imagine her life without Key and Shonté.
She gazed across the counter at the man stuffing shrimp salad into his mouth. He possessed striking looks, with his strongly drawn eyebrows over bright, intelligent eyes, full-chiseled lips, coffee skin, sharply defined cheeks. His braids had a tendency to curl where they were gathered in a band on the nape of his neck. He was in great physical shape too. He wasn’t the dangerous type, but he did exude a dark power which drew women. That had been true as long as she could remember. Hadn’t she fallen under that spell herself when she was young and impressionable?
She’d had a serious crush on Key when she was a teenager and joyously said yes when he asked her out. The rest of that summer had been magical as they were constantly together: at the pool, the movies, restaurants, parties. She had accompanied him to football practice before school began in the late summer. When they were alone, there had been some fervent kissing and groping. Looking back, she could see that those attempts at physical intimacy had been laughably innocent. But at the time, she’d been scared, titillated and totally infatuated with the heady drunkenness of a teenager in love.
Crystal shook off the memory. She didn’t want to remember how ugly their breakup had been. They were lucky to have regained their friendship. She turned her focus back to the problem at hand.
“Maybe I’m too close, Emerson,” she said. “Maybe she’d listen to you better than she does to me.”
“Me?” He poked at the food piled on his plate. “I’m not the best person to give moral advice. Look at my life over the past few years.”
She sniffed. “You mean how you love ’em and leave ’em?”
Key winced. “I do not.”
“Oh, yes, you do,” Crystal said, jabbing at her salad. “How many times have I had to cover for you when you were juggling a couple of ladies?”
He gave her a boyish grin. “Hey, you were always my best girl.”
He extended his fisted hand which she met with her own fist, a salute of friendship that made her feel safe and loved. Yeah, no matter who else came or went, they were always there for each other.
“And because you know I don’t take your lines,” she added with a grin.
He spread his hands over his heart in an exaggerated gesture of innocence. “Who me? Lines? Baby, you know I’m real.”
“Please, Emerson. You haven’t been real with a woman since—” She broke off with a start of embarrassment.
Key rolled his eyes. “Geez, Taylor, I’m
way
over Monica. I was a kid back then.”
“I know,” she said. “It’s just….” She chewed thoughtfully a moment. “Sometimes I think you’re afraid to give yourself totally to a woman anymore.”
He banged his fork down with a grunt of disgust. “Do not psychoanalyze me, Taylor! I’m just fine, thank you. I’ve never hurt or deceived anybody. I haven’t brought any unwanted kids into the world. What’s wrong with that?”
“Nothing,” she said hastily.
“When I’m ready to settle down, I’ll find a woman.”
“I know you will,” she said. “You have a lot to offer any woman, Key. Trust me, I know.” She quirked an eyebrow at him teasingly.
He chuckled. “Yeah? How do I measure up to Pirate Graham?”
She pretended to consider. “Hmm. It’s been a long time but I’d say that on technique, you out-rate him, while his originality and enthusiasm have you beat. Maybe you could arrange for him to give you a few lessons.”
“Smarty-pants,” he said with a playful swat at her butt. “I gotta go. Tell Shont
é to give me a call.”
In seconds he was out the door and gone.
Thoughtful, Crystal turned to the sink with its few dirty dishes, her movements automatic. Key might protest, but she knew how deeply he had once been hurt. On the outside, he was charming and careless about love. He never got too involved, despite all the women who had laid snares for him over the years.
But she knew him better than any of them did. She knew that beneath the slick exterior, Key was passionate, loyal and vulnerable. Key usually guarded his heart well, but when he was hurt—
Back in college, Monica Owens had been beautiful, smart, and ambitious. Everyone had said she was perfect for Key. He fell hard when he met her. For two years, they were an item. Then he was injured playing football and messed up his leg so badly that he was in the hospital for weeks. His family was devastated to see him lying in bed in so much pain.
Monica was by his side for the first couple of weeks. Through her own tears, Crystal approved of her care. She didn’t even mind too much being pushed aside when she saw his eyes light up at the arrival of Monica. He obviously loved her so much.
Monica was the most impatient of them all in the concern about when Key would regain full use of his leg. She was with the family when they went to the doctor’s office for his briefing. He assured them that Key would be fine in normal life, but it wasn’t wise for him to play football again. That meant the end of his promising career as a professional athlete. Key had already learned the news and asked the doctor to speak to his family.
Crystal cried with Key’s parents and sister over the news. Then they got themselves together and prepared to be strong and thankful as they went back to Key’s room. Monica trailed behind, her wrinkled brow still troubled. Crystal paused to offer her comfort.
“He’ll be okay, Monica. They said this won’t affect his normal abilities.”
The pretty college junior hugged herself in obvious distress. “But his career! It’s so unfair. Pro scouts have already been looking at him. Now that’s all over.”
“I know. But he’ll go on to something else. You know Key. He’s strong. He’ll adapt.”
“But it won’t be the same!” Monica wailed.
After that day she started to be “too busy” to come to the hospital. Joe and Vonetta had to return to their home and jobs, which left Crystal and Shonté to keep Key company in the hospital. They tried to downplay Monica’s inattention, to make excuses for her. But it tore at Crystal’s heart to see the light go out of Key’s eyes each time anyone walked in the door who wasn’t Monica.
After several days of her excuses, Crystal stormed into Monica’s dorm room. “Where have you been? Don’t you know how important it is for Key to see you?”
“You and Shonté are his family. He doesn’t need me.”
“Of course he needs you. He loves you!”
“Actually, we were having some problems anyway. I don’t see the point in going on.”
“How can you do this to him now? Can’t you work on your problems when he’s better?”
But Monica remained aloof. Crystal understood when she saw Monica in the student union with the school’s star basketball player a few days later.
She and Shonté discussed Monica furiously. “That bitch!” Shonté raged. “I could kill her.”
“How can she do this to him now? She couldn’t even wait for him to get out of the hospital to dump him?”
Key stopped asking about Monica. Crystal guessed he must have heard something from some of his other friends who still stopped in from time to time. He was beginning some therapy treatments and nearing the date of release from the hospital.
She was alone in his room one day when an orderly brought him back from the physical therapy clinic in his wheelchair. He looked drawn and ashen, but waved away her offer of juice.
“Taylor, tell me the truth,” he demanded without preamble. “She’s not coming back, is she?”
“Who?” she asked, although she knew perfectly well.
His impatient cluck told her he wasn’t going to play games.
“I’m sorry, Key,” was all she could say.
His mouth trembled and his head sank for a moment. Then he rallied. “She can’t handle sickness. When I get out of here, I’ll talk to her. I’ll make her see.” His voice cracked with desperation.
Crystal gazed at him with acute anguish tearing her up inside. Slowly she shook her head. “I saw her with Shaka Morrison.”
Key collapsed in the wheelchair. He beat the arm of the chair with his clenched fist while silent tears ran down his face. She went to him and stroked his head without a word.
Neither of them ever spoke of the incident again. Key learned to walk again and went back to school. The first time he ran into Monica, he greeted her with a blank look as if he couldn’t quite remember her name. But Crystal knew what that cost him.
A rush of anger made Crystal’s hands shake in the hot soapy dishwater. Even after all these years, the memory still infuriated her. Had some female managed to get close enough to hurt him like that again? She scrubbed more furiously at a soapy dish.
She had been devoted to Key and Shonté from her first meeting with them. She wasn’t about to let anything hurt either one of them if she could help it.
CHAPTER 3
It was almost midnight when Shonté crept into the condo. Crystal heard her moving about on the first floor, then climbing the stairs. Her bedroom door opened and Shonté peeked into the darkened room.
“Cee? Awake?”
“Yeah. Come on in.”
The other girl tripped in and perched on the foot of Crystal’s bed. Crystal sat up, pulling her knees up to her chest. Light from the hallway highlighted Shonté’s profile.
“I’m sorry I talked to you so mean, Cee. Forgive me?”
Affection flooded through Crystal as she smiled at her friend. “Of course I do, Shonté. I’ll try not to be so bossy. You can do what you want with your life,” she added, remembering Key’s admonition.
Shont
é exhaled with a long sigh. “It’s just that Trevor is so exciting. I know it’s wrong, but I can’t help it when I’m around him. Besides, he’s not the type who would worry about my past.”
Crystal gave a grunt of exasperation. “You made a couple of mistakes. You were young. It’s nobody’s business.”
Shonté nodded, but without much conviction. “I know, but my mistakes aren’t something you can forget.”
“You do use protection, don’t you?” Crystal asked.
Shonté waved her hand impatiently. “Of course. The point is, I don’t even think about my past with him. Besides, he makes me feel like something is happening in my life. I’m so damn bored, Crystal.”
“Bored?”
“All I do is go to work, come home, go out with Graham. I know he’s a good guy. But sometimes I think I’ll scream if I hear him tell me about how many cars he’s sold one more time. And I could never talk to him about—certain things.”
“If you don’t like him, break up. You’re not obligated to him.”
“I know, but—”
Crystal hugged her knees tighter, with a sense of urgency. “What do you want, Shonté?”
Shonté hesitated, and went off on a tangent when she finally answered. “I got a letter from Grant Rice.”
“Who?”
“You remember. My acting friend?”
“Oh, yeah. He moved out to California a few months ago.”
“Right. He said he’s learned so much about the business while he’s been there. He’s even got a television producer interested in the sitcom he created.”
“Really? That’s cool. What’s the show going to be about?”
“Well, he based it on his own life, four guys who share an apartment, and the girlfriend of one. One guy is gay, one is spacey, one is sarcastic and one is a klutz.”
“Uh-huh,” Crystal said, trying really hard not to convey how stupid she thought it sounded. She must not have succeeded, because Shonté laughed and reached over to pat her knee.
“He says it’s good to give each character a specific one or two word characterization. It really is a good screenplay.”
It didn’t sound impressive to Crystal, but then she didn’t know much about show business. Shonté was the artistic one who had been heartbroken when she didn’t get into the performing arts college she applied to after high school. She’d always had a dream of being a performer and had pretty much fallen apart when she got the rejection. She’d done crazy things then, Crystal remembered. A short-lived bout of promiscuity had left her with the lasting legacy of herpes. Fortunately, the condition was under control and she rarely had an outbreak. Crystal was prayerfully grateful her friend hadn’t been infected with something more deadly. Shonté was more cautious nowadays, but not totally settled.
“What are you thinking, Shonté?”
“I don’t know. I’ve been feeling so antsy, thinking about my life.”
“You have a good life, honey.”
Her chin wobbled as she pressed her lips together to hold her emotion in check. “It’s all so useless, Crystal.”
“Are you thinking of joining Grant out in Hollywood?”
“I don’t know! If only I’d gone right out of high school. Now I’ve got student loans and a condo and a car and all kinds of responsibility, as you so frequently remind me.”
Crystal felt a stab of unease. She had thought Shonté was over that wish. Had she and Shonté’s parents been wrong to encourage Shonté to get a business degree from a traditional college and keep her acting life as a hobby?
Shonté laughed shakily at the look on Crystal’s face.
“Don’t worry. I’m not going to run away or anything. I’m too damn old and scared.”
Crystal spoke slowly. “Listen, you don’t have that much debt. You’ve been able to double up since we started our frugal plan.”
Shonté huffed noisily. “Yes, take our bag lunch, limit our luxuries, watch the clothes shopping, car pool, watch the electricity use. Yeah, yeah, Crystal, we’re just a couple of savvy sisters.”
Crystal felt chagrined. “Well, if you don’t want to—”
“It’s not that I don’t want to. I know you’re right, Crystal. I rely on you. I just feel strangled sometimes.”
Crystal was compelled to poke a little further. “You’ve been getting some big roles at the community theater. You were really excited when you landed the lead in this last one. What’s the name of the new play again?”
Shonté pushed off the bed to her feet and paced away from Crystal, pushing a strand of hair behind her ear. “I told you.
The Carpool
. I play Tamara, the wife.”
Crystal watched the pacing. “Aren’t rehearsals going well?”
Shonté shrugged. “As well as can be expected. But what does it matter? It’s only local theater.”
“You never know. Maybe some hotshot theatrical agent will be in the audience one night and get blown away by your performance.”
They grinned at each other a little shakily.
“We’re a good team, Crystal, aren’t we? You’re the smart one, I’m the pretty one.” Now the smile was sardonic.
“Yeah,” Crystal agreed, feeling her own smile begin to crack at the comment. They always joked about that.
It had started when they met in middle school back in Fayetteville, North Carolina. Starting school in the middle of the year, Crystal was very much the outsider. Cliques were already established, her clothes weren’t right, she didn’t know the current slang or the right places to hang out. Shonté Emerson was in a couple of her classes and rode the same bus. Shonté was part of the fashionable crowd, the ones with the most stylish clothes and the latest games and music, who joined clubs and played school sports. They weren’t as cool as the thugs and gangstas, but they were well liked and well known. A laughing group of girls always surrounded Shonté
, and boys gravitated to them.
Then one day Crystal walked into the girl’s bathroom on the eighth grade hall at school and heard someone sobbing. She was frozen with fear for a moment.
“Does somebody need help?” she demanded.
There was a moment of silence. Then a tearful voice whimpered, “Is that Crystal Taylor?”
“Yeah.” She didn’t recognize the voice but when the stall door opened, she immediately identified Shonté, despite her swollen, tear-streaked face and bloodshot eyes.
“I don’t feel good. My stomach.”
Instinctively, Crystal took a step forward to embrace the girl, who was hunched over and hugging her belly. “I’ll help you get to the nurse.”
“No, no!” Shonté’s scream was near hysteria. “I just want to go somewhere to lie down awhile.”
“You want to go home?”
“No, no,” she moaned. “Oh, please, God. I don’t know what to do. Help me. Please, help me.”
The sobs tore into Crystal’s heart and she instantly made up her mind. “We’ll go to my house. My mom isn’t home now.”
From that day forward, Crystal had taken on the role of caring for, nurturing and keeping Shonté’s secrets.
Despite their differences, they had become friends. Crystal tutored Shonté
with homework, kept her in college, and even helped her get the job at the hospital. While Shonté was impulsive, creative, and unconstrained by rules, Crystal was socially aware, analytical, and evaluative.
She always thought their friendship thrived on the balance of opposites, that Shonté needed Crystal’s direction and drive, just as Crystal needed Shonté’s sense of fun and love of life. But now she wasn’t so sure.
* * *
Two nights later, after play rehearsal, Crystal went out with Graham and Shonté for pizza. She watched the interplay between the two with interest. Graham was clearly dazzled by Shonté. Once more she wished he weren’t quite so wimpy. She wanted someone who would provide strength for Shonté.
Of course Shonté was on her best behavior to start with, remorseful about her shenanigans with Trevor Devlin. When Crystal came back from a visit to the restroom, she caught a little of their conversation as she quietly sat down at the table.
“Listen, Graham. I want to apologize about the crappy way I’ve been treating you lately.”
He smiled and put his arm around her, drawing her protectively against his side.
“I understand, Shonté. You’ve got performance nerves. It’ll be okay once the play is over.”
“I guess,” she said absently. “Graham, I’m not sure I’m the right person for you.”
“Shonté, honey, of course you are.”
“No, I’m not. I can be a real bitch. Just ask anybody who knows me.”
Graham laughed. “I find that hard to believe. You have to be as sweet as you look.”
Shonté drew away and glared at him. “As I look? How the hell can you tell anything about me by the way I look?”
Graham leaned back, puzzled by her hostile tone.
Crystal moved in smoothly. “Hey, guys, what are we going to do now?”
“I’m tired,” Shonté snapped.
That pretty much ended the evening. After Shonté
made it clear she didn’t want Graham to hang around, he left the two of them at the condo.
When they were alone, Crystal kicked off her shoes and looked at her friend’s unhappy pout.
“You were a little rough on him, weren’t you?”
Shonté wore high wedge-heeled sandals but made no move to take them off. She still looked as sleek and put together as she had when she left the house that morning.
“He’s an idiot!” Shonté burst out. She bit her lip, took a deep breath, and pressed her hands to her temples, pulling back tightly. “Graham is so straight, and he doesn’t have a clue as to what I’m about.”
“Shonté, you can’t blame him for adoring you.”
“I don’t,” she said on a sigh. “He’s a sweet, nice guy. My parents would like Graham. But I’m not sure I do.”
“Well, dump him!” Crystal urged again. “There are loads of men out there for someone like you.”
Shonté gave her an exasperated look and stalked toward the stairs. “You’re doing it, too. I don’t
want
to be some man’s trophy.”
“Glad to hear it,” Crystal called after her. “Because you know that’s all you’ll ever be to Doctor Dawg.”
Shonté rolled her eyes. “Don’t worry about him. He hasn’t even called me this week.”
She flounced up the stairs, and a minute later, Crystal heard her bedroom door close.
Good, Crystal thought with gratification. The end of Shonté’s current fling, and nobody had gotten hurt. With her flair for drama, Shonté thrived on scenes with lots of emotion and vivid purpose. She had probably been acting out a drama in which she could explore herself in the role of vixen. However, her personality would demand redemption in the end with a good man—someone like Graham. Shonté would see that soon, Crystal told herself.
* * *
Friday rolled around without any incident. Then Crystal woke up on Saturday morning and found Shonté hadn’t been home all night.
She phoned Graham. “Is Crystal there?” she asked, barely waiting for his sleep-muffled “Hello?”
“No,” he said, still sounding half asleep.
“Okay, never mind.” She hung up. Then she called Key’s cell phone. By that time, she was in a panic.
“Key, Shont
é wasn’t here all night. She wasn’t with Graham either.”
“Did you call her cell phone?”
“It’s off.”
“Maybe she doesn’t want to talk then.”
“But don’t you understand? She said she was planning to call Graham and then she didn’t. She must have spent the night with that Doctor Trevor and lied to me about it!”
“What would you have said if she had told you she was going out with him?”
“I would have talked her out of it!”
“Exactly.”
“Oh, Key, what am I going to do?”
Key made a throaty sound of frustration over the phone. “I can’t really talk right now. We’re having practice. Why don’t you come over to the campus? After we finish up, you and I will go out to breakfast and you can talk all you want about Shonté.”
Still distressed, Crystal agreed.
* * *
Key was an associate professor of kinesiology and the defensive football coach at the college. People sometimes speculated on how far Key would have gone in his athletic career if a knee injury during college hadn’t put him on the sidelines for good. Multiple surgeries had restored normal mobility, but he occasionally suffered with painful bouts of tendinopathy. She had worried about Key during the first months after the injury, but after all these years he seemed completely content with his role as mentor and coach to the next generation of football players.
In a glum mood, she drove to Hope University, an independent, co-educational, four-year college. The football field lay blindingly green in the early morning sunshine. Key stood on the sidelines watching his student athletes as they dodged and pummeled one another on the field. When he saw her approach the bleachers, he flashed her a white-toothed smile and waved. Dressed in jersey sweatpants, a hoodie and his signature white sneakers, Key managed to look regal and sexy at the same time. Occasionally he called out an instruction or consulted with another coach in a low voice. Hope’s football team was one of the lower ranked ones, but they were always working to turn that around.
When the players were dismissed to run final laps around the field, he and David Welch, the head coach, walked over to her. Key’s boss had been at Hope for twelve seasons and had led the college basketball team to Division II championships. He hoped Key would do the same for the football team.