The Sordid Promise (17 page)

I wiped the seriousness from my face and fluttered my eyelashes at him. “So?”

“You were playfully fucking with me earlier,” he said with moderate disbelief. “And you’re smiling again.” He stood on his knees and unbuttoned his shirt. “Is this the real you, Nik?”

“It…used to be.”

He spread my legs wider with a mischievous glint in his eye.

“I thought you were tired.”

“I’m not too tired to make your bottom lip quiver. I’m not too tired to make you shout out to the ceiling like you just found religion. I’m gunning for at least six orgasms….even if I don’t get any sleep in the process.”

I sat up on my elbows. “Six? I don’t think I have it in me to do six.”

“Is that a challenge, Nikki?”

“Might be.”

He slipped down my body. “Count them,” he whispered against my apex.

From oral alone, he made me have seven.

Her headstone was finally placed, sandwiched between my father’s headstone and my maternal grandmother’s. A simple granite stone read: Nicole Liari Givens. Wife. Mother. She didn’t want her birthdate placed on her headstone, so it wasn’t.

I glanced over at my father’s headstone and back to hers. “Seems so stupid to talk to you like this.” I closed my coat around me to shield myself against the frigid late-October breeze. “Not like you can hear me. Feel stupid doing this, but I just want you to know, I know you’re the reason he’s in my life. Still working on the how and why. I’m waiting for the bad part to come, because it always does. For now….getting out of bed isn’t as bad as it used to be and….I really miss you. I hate that I can’t talk to you. I remember a time when we never did.

“I wish I’d never left you seven years ago, because those last—almost seven—months we had together meant so much to me. I wish you could’ve been the mother you were then when I was growing up. It makes me wonder how different I would be if you were. Makes me wonder if I would’ve done what I did that day. Or if…I—” I sucked in a deep breath to prevent a sob from escaping.

I contemplated less depressing thoughts. “It’s my kind of simple, and I like it that way. It’s what I need, but you probably already knew that. The less drama the better. I learned that with Trent. I think he gets it. Even though I can tell his life is a little bit of a mess, he tries to keep me away from that part of him. Still, I need to know if it’s okay to feel this way—whatever I’m feeling—if I’m feeling anything at all. I can’t help but wonder if you put him in my life just to serve as a short-term fix.”

“She wouldn’t do that to you.”

I startled and looked up. “Angie,” I said coldly. “You’re still here?”

She grabbed my hands as her eyes lightly teared up. “Gowan had to travel for a time. Thought I’d come see about you. How are you?“

“If you want a less depressing answer, ask me when I let myself feel the hurt. I think the medication does it for me—it numbs me.”

“From what I hear, seems you have a man in your life. Is this…new?”

“To me…yes.”

“I’m not sure what you mean.”

“In that…I think he and my mother knew each other long before he and I actually met.”

“How interesting,” she said woodenly.

Angie never knew that I had full knowledge of her affair with my father. At the moment, she wasn’t restoring a single ounce of the faith I lost in her. Strange, she never once asked what my mother died of. It was very convenient of her to show up now. “How long are you planning to stick around?”

“Gowan and I haven’t decided. Probably won’t decide until he comes back from his travels. Are you going to invite me over? I’d like to feel out the man my niece is dating. Is it the young man who was with you at the funeral?”

“It is.”

“Well, if you haven’t gone to the lawyers’ yet, I’ll gladly go with you.”

“Eric…went with me.”

She raised both eyebrows in surprise. “You had a little twinkle in your eye when you said his name.” She looked at the tombstone, no longer holding the hurt she was wrought with a few moments ago. “Did…she leave you with everything?” she asked carefully.

“She did.”

“Good.” She gave me a bright smile that didn’t reach her eyes. “Still have a spare five-bedrooms?”

I cocked my head at her, scrutinizing her through my narrowing eyes.
The games people play.
“Eric is staying with me, and I thought you were staying at a hotel with your husband.”

She crossed her arms and looked down her nose at me. “Eric is staying with you?” She looked at the tombstone, falling silent for a moment. “I thought we could get reacquainted. Honestly, Nikki, it’s such a big house. I’m sure you could spare room for one more person.” She gave me an overly bright smile. “Warn Eric that the onslaught is coming. He better be the perfect man for you, or he’ll be embarrassed.”

I watched Angie as she worked in the kitchen, making both of us a lunch of peanut jerk stew something or other. She was adamant in her notion that I would love it. Watching her work the kitchen, I remembered when she used to watch me. The term ‘watch’ a very loose term for making a few peanut butter sandwiches and making me stay in my room for the rest of the day.

“Where have you been?” I asked as I sat at the breakfast bar. “When did you get married?”

“I’ve been so many places I’ve lost track. I settled in the Horn for a time with my husband Gowan. It was a civil ceremony. It was so quick, I didn’t have time to tell anyone. Met him maybe five months ago, and we fell in love. He’s a doctor. I…told your mother to tell you.”

“You
knew
she was sick? Why didn’t you come any sooner?”

“Nikki,” she chided me. “Things between your mom and I were complicated. I was surprised she spoke to me at all. I thought she would make good on her promise to never speak to me again until her dying breath after the accusations I made at your father’s funeral. I didn’t want to rock the boat by coming back to a place where I may not have been wanted.”

“It was strained before my father died. Now that she’s gone, can you tell me what it was about?”

She joined me at the breakfast bar. “Some secrets should stay in the grave.”

My phone rang with a call from a blocked number. “Tamala, grow the hell up,” I answered and slammed my phone down on the counter. A feeling crept over me that I tried to keep down. I wanted to run. I wanted to faint. I felt like an elephant sat on my chest. It wasn’t right. I hadn’t had an attack in years—not since I started taking my meds years ago.

Angie took my hand and squeezed. “Are your boyfriend’s romantic ghosts haunting you?”

“I guess,” I responded as I found my steady breaths. Her question served to bring me back from the ledge. “I think one of his friends wants to befriend me.”

“The best way to get to know the person you’re with, is through the brush his friends paint him with.”

I nodded. “He was raised by his uncle and has a roommate—maybe adoptive sister that needs to be admitted to the psych ward. I know he’s…different.”

“Said no one else before who was ever in a doomed love.”

“I thought you were the love optimist. Isn’t that why you abandoned me dozens of times to get your head pounded against the wall by the love of the moment, when you were supposed to be watching me?”

She choked and cleared her throat. “I had no idea you heard that.”

“I was young, not deaf.”

“Well, I was young and stupid. I hope we can repair our relationship. With your mother gone, there’s nothing standing in our way. I’m just not sure about this new man in your life. You seem smitten a little too soon. You have to approach these things with wide eyes—especially in your fragile state.” She slid off the stool to check on her stew. “What does he do for you?”

“I can’t share that with you,” I responded coldly. “I’m scared you’re going to fuck him behind my back.”

She whirled around in her position with her eyes wide. “Nikki!”

“I’m not worried about him,” I responded evenly. “I don’t think he would. He makes me feel…protected.”

Angie fell silent and returned to the stove. She couldn’t refute that, because, along with my parents, she contributed to my loneliness and vulnerability. With my mother, I understood that it was never intentional. She worked a lot. She realized her mistake and made up for it. She had an excuse. I couldn’t excuse Angie, or my father. My father was a wildly successful hustler, who went on vacation without my mother and me quite a bit.

“The stew is going to need a few hours to simmer.” She turned down the level of the gas on the range. “Why don’t we take that dog of yours for a walk in the park?”

As we started down the sidewalk, we spotted a few of my neighbors huddled in front of the drive that led to Eric’s house.

“Diouana.” Mrs. Hobbins came from across the street, while pointing a finger at me. “You’ve seen what’s been going on there. I’m sure of it. There isn’t a well-mannered man living there. The good-looks fooled me. But I know much better now.” She wagged her finger in the air and grabbed a clipboard from another neighbor. “Sign the petition to get them out.” She thrust the clipboard at me.

I pushed it back to her. “Can you do that?”

“As the president of the HOA, who’s seen numerous violations occur inside and outside that house, I can. Drug dealers and prostitutes have taken over our neighborhood. We won’t stand for it. I’ve had to call the police on that prostitute more than once.”

“So women in toxic relationships are prostitutes, and doctors are drug dealers?” I questioned her. “I guess the latter makes sense. I like the term drug-pusher better.”

“No!” She looked me up and down with a sour expression. “I see the men she has at all times of the night. A different man every night, and they always leave before morning. It’s disgusting. She’s a woman of ill-repute. And if that man is any sort of doctor, I’m the POTUS. As prominent as the hospital he claims to work for is, there’s no way they would hire a con artist. He’s loitering there.” Mrs. Hobbins succeeded in exacerbating my preexisting headache. After turning her kids away, she was now spinning her grand fantasies with me at the core of it all.

“Where are you getting this crazy information?” I asked her.

“Google it.” She tapped at the clipboard.

I shook my head. “Find someone else to support your witch hunt.”

“I’m disappointed in you, Diouana. I thought you were a smart girl with morals. Seems you’ve spread your knees to this man and forgotten about loyalty. You’ll see. You’ll see, young lady.” She shook her finger at me and joined her friends on the side of the road.

Unsure of what to do, I stood there as I felt…claustrophobic.

“Is he supposed to be at work right now?” Angie asked.

I nodded through panting breaths.

She took Maisha’s leash and nodded to me. “Go find out if it’s true.”

I waved my hand at her, trying to collect myself.

“Nikki, are you all right?”

Maisha nudged my hand. When I didn’t respond, she jumped up on her hind legs, pushed my chest with her front paws and tried to lick my face. The act made me giggle, it also brought me out of my pending attack. I reached down and ruffled her ears as I came back into my own. “Remind me to give you the biggest, juiciest steak at dinner time for being the smartest dog alive.”

While panting, she sat at my feet.

“Nikki?” Angie urged impatiently.

I finally gave her my full attention. “This is Mrs. Hobbins we’re talking about,” I riposted. “She can’t be believed. She probably made this whole thing up because her soap operas have drawn stale stories.”

“I beg your pardon!” Mrs. Hobbins screamed from across the street. I could swear that woman had dog’s ears. “Go see him at the hospital and find out the truth. I know a board member there. He doesn’t work there. Go see. Go find out. See how correct my facts are.”

I moved to continue my walk with Angie.

Angie grabbed my arm. “Go see about this, Nikki. He’s living in your house, and whatever he’s involved in may hit your front doorstep when you least expect it.”

Because she had a point, and I wanted to shut down any pending drama before it occurred, I went to the hospital.