Total pages in book: 62
Estimated words: 58947 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 295(@200wpm)___ 236(@250wpm)___ 196(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 58947 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 295(@200wpm)___ 236(@250wpm)___ 196(@300wpm)
Mama.
My heart seizes a little every time I see her name onscreen. I know it’s ridiculous, but I flash back to the night she called screaming and crying so much I couldn’t understand a word she said. And once I did understand, the horror of what had happened to Cliff… I’ll never forget that. I shake off the memory and answer.
“Hey, Mama.”
“Tee, hey, baby. How you?”
Some of the leftover tension drains from my shoulders as her accent breezes over me, stronger today, as it often is after she talks with any of our family still living in Trinidad.
“I’m good. How you?”
“Fine. You talk to Neecey?”
“We texted yesterday.” I sit on the edge of my bed and admire how the white polish on my toes looks with my tan. “Everything okay?”
“I just got off the phone with her not too long ago.” A brief pause breaks the flow of Mama’s words. “You heard about that retirement thing they’re doing for Coach Lipton?”
I draw in a deep breath and blow it out before answering. “I heard something about it, yeah.”
“They’ve asked Cliff to say a few words.”
“That’s good. He loves Coach and Coach loves him—has been there for him through everything.”
“True. I just worry. He’s been doing so good, and I don’t want no setbacks, ya know?”
“Of course. He’ll be fine, don’t you think?”
“Praying, but I thought it might be good if you and Janice maybe come home to visit? Support him?”
“Oh.” It’s all I can manage for a second.
“Janice isn’t sure she’ll be able to get away. She’s checking. If you’re busy, I understand, but I heard Nazareth is attending, too, and you know how that boy sets Cliff off.”
Hearing Naz’s name from her jars me, and for a moment, it’s like a glitch—something in the wrong place and time. Images of Naz I’ve collected over the last month fill my mind. Him leaning against the rail on the yacht, his smile wide and blinding. Laughing, holding my hand as we explored the streets of Positano. His stern features softened in the waning light of the villa’s garden surrounded by lemon and olive trees. And all of our dates since we’ve been back in LA.
Not telling her about Naz feels like a betrayal to all he and I have shared.
“Mama,” I say, my voice coming out stronger than I thought it would. “There’s something I need to tell you.”
“Out wit’ it, Tee.”
“It’s about Naz.”
“Nazareth?” The silence on the other ends blooms and ripens. “What about him?”
“He and I…” I blow out a breath. “I ran into him here in LA.”
“And?” she asks, the knowing loud in her softly asked question.
“We’re seeing each other.”
“Ahhhh. How long this been going on?”
“About a month. The trip to Italy—it was with him.”
“Takira.” Her chuckle on the other end of the line surprises me. “You don’t ever make things easy, do you?”
I find myself laughing back, shaking my head. “I guess not. What do you think Cliff will say?”
“He won’t like it. You know this, but he’s a grown man, right?”
“Do you think seeing Naz at the ceremony or finding out about us will set him back?”
I want her to say no. I want her to tell me it’s silly to even think so, but she found him. She was more traumatized by it than any of us.
“I don’t know,” she finally admits. “That boy…lots wasted, but he’s got a lot of life still ahead of him. He’ll have to decide what he’s gonna do with it. You can’t live for him, though. None of us can, and I’ve been guilty of that more than once.”
“I…I care about Naz,” I tell her, my resolve strengthening. “And I’m not giving him up.”
“All right now,” Mama says, sounding pleased. “Even more reason for you to come for the ceremony. That’s something Cliff needs to hear from you. You need to be the one to tell him.”
Her suggestion is still ringing in my ears when Naz arrives at my door a few minutes later.
“Hey,” I greet him with a pleased smile.
“Hey.” He bends to kiss me briefly, but his demeanor is subdued when he enters the apartment. He looks handsome and austere in his impeccably tailored dark jacket and slacks.
“Are you mad at me?” I ask, my voice sounding more uncertain than I’m used to it being, and I hate that.
He glances up, his full lips tightening, and takes the few strides that bring him back to me at the front door. He leaves me no space, placing his arms on either side of me, pressing his forehead to mine.
“I’m not mad at you, Kira,” he says, a raw edge to his voice. “I’m in love with you.”
A startled breath chuffs past my lips. I can’t pretend the notion hasn’t crossed my mind, crossed my heart, but we haven’t said it. I thought it was too soon, thought we should be more sure, but there is absolute certainty in the eyes that burn into mine, and that look finds an echo inside of me. An answer to his call.