BFF's 2 (8 page)

“I'm not trying to be nosy or anything like that, but how much does something like this cost? You have so many beautiful pieces in here. I wonder how much they're worth.”

Keith shrugged and boasted about his work that was quite impressive. “Anywhere from five to thirty or forty thousand dollars. It depends on what I'm asked to do. I have some wealthy clients who pay high dollars for their artwork. They often refer me to others, so I stay quite busy.”

“I see,” I said, gazing around at the large room. “And it's a good thing that you love what you do. I wish I could discover what my real talents are. Maybe I would be able to make money like this, but for now, it is what it is.”

Keith sat on a stool next to his work station. He invited me to have a seat on the couch in front of him. I did and crossed my legs.

“So, what is it that you exactly do, Evelyn?”

I didn't appreciate him getting all up in my business, but if we were going to get to know each other on another level, why not?

“Currently, I'm unemployed. I was working customer service, but I got laid off. I've been looking for work, but it's hard to find a job. Many economists claim the economy is recovering, but I'm not feeling it yet. My bills are behind, and everybody I try to borrow money from is in the same predicament.”

“Yeah, that's too bad. But keep your head up, though. Things will get better.”

I was sure that he would offer me a little something, but at least he gave me hope. He started to dabble on a sketchpad that was on his workstation. I admired a man who utilized his talents to make money; and, all the way around, he was so damn gorgeous to me.

“While at the door, you mentioned something about Trina's strange behavior,” he said. “Do you mind elaborating on that?”

Keith's eyes scanned my moisturized legs, which were still crossed. Then his eyes traveled from my head to toe, before he looked at the sketchpad again and waited for me to reply.

“What I meant by that was I told Trina she needed to knock it off. No offense to her, but there are times when she chooses to be a drama queen for no reason. It irritates the heck out of me, and I reminded her that no man would put up with that mess. We had a little argument because she didn't like what I had to say to her. Please don't tell her that I'm sharing this with you, but she be acting a little off at times. I told her that she needs to go get herself checked out, and that's why I said she was confused the other night. She is confused. When I say that to her, she takes it personal.”

Without looking up, Keith hit me with more questions. “Confused about what? What do you think she's confused about?”

“Honestly, I think she's confused about being with you.”

He finally looked up and wet his lips with his tongue. “Why would she be confused about being with me?”

“I say that because when we talk about y'all's relationship, she always hesitates and brings up her past. She talks about her attraction to other women, and I'm not sure if she's satisfied with being with a man. I could be wrong. Trina is very hard to read, but she's been that way for a very long time.”

Keith sat quietly for a while. I could tell he was in deep thought. His pencil scribbled faster and the frown on his face said that he wasn't too pleased. I wanted to turn his frown into a smile.

“What are you doing over there?” I asked.

“You'll see. In a few more minutes, you'll see.”

Keith continued to dabble while I turned my head to look around the room. I noticed a beautiful painting of Aretha Franklin, but as I scooted forward to get off the couch, he stopped me.

“Don't move just yet. Give me about ten more minutes.”

I smiled, figuring that he was creating a sketch of me. “Work your magic,” I said. “Had I known that you were creating a sketch of me, I would have gotten myself in a better position.”

“The one you're in right now is just fine.”

I relaxed back on the couch and spread my arms on top of it. “Okay, if you say so. Have at it, if you will.”

Almost ten minutes later, Keith turned the sketchpad around, showing me the picture he'd drawn. I was floored. It was the most awesome drawing of a person I'd ever seen. My mouth was wide open. I peeled myself off the couch and walked up to him.

“Tha . . . that is magnificent. You're so talented, Keith. How did you do that so fast? I kept moving around, talking; you make it look so easy.”

Keith was all smiles. The way to any man's heart was to compliment his work. “It was easy, especially when I'm working on someone like you.”

I cocked my head back in surprise. “What is that supposed to mean? Someone like me who—”

“Someone like you who is very attractive and funny. That's why I think you'll be great for my brother.”

Now was the perfect time for me to make my move. I was close to him, and his masculine cologne drew me right in. I didn't want to let his compliment with regard to me go to waste. I placed my arm on his shoulder and gazed at the sketch in his hand.

“Yeah, I could be great for your brother, but something tells me that I could also be perfect for you too. I don't know why, but I have a feeling inside of me that says so.”

Before Keith responded, I removed the sketch from his hand and placed it on his workstation. I stood in front of him and my other arm rested on his shoulder. The direction of my eyes traveled to his thick lips, but as I inched forward, he backed his head away from me.

“Uh, I don't think this is a good idea.”

“I'm on the other side of the fence. I think it's a great idea.”

I leaned in again. This time, my lips touched Keith's. I forced my tongue into his mouth, and as soon as I felt his, he jumped up from the chair.

“I think you need to go,” he said.

I glanced at his hardness that was showing through his shorts. “You're doing a whole lot of thinking, Keith, but your thoughts are not beneficial to either of us. This time, I won't push. You know where I stand, and if you're ever in need of a real woman, who knows exactly what she wants, call me. If you decide not to, I will settle for your brother. Give my number to him, and we can go from there.”

I picked up the sketch pencil and scribbled my number on the drawing he'd created of me. Keith stood in silence as I said good-bye and sauntered my way toward the door to exit. I walked down the stairs, and with a smile on my face, I opened the front door and headed to my car. Twenty minutes later, I stopped at a gas station to get gas and a lottery ticket. Rubbed the ticket and won $500. Somebody was definitely looking out for me, even more so when my cell phone rang and it was Bryson. No question about it, this was my lucky day.

I was sitting in the hotel lobby, having a few drinks at the bar and listening to a man playing some soothing music on a piano. The past few days had been peaceful, especially since I hadn't stopped by the house to see Cedric. Jacoby met me for dinner last night and he updated me on what had been going on at the house. According to him, Cynthia had been taking very good care of them, and Cedric was starting to move around. Jacoby asked me to free my mind of all the hatred I had inside of me. He stressed that if he could move on, I should be able to as well. He had no clue that I still loved his father. That was why I chose to minimize my visits. The last thing I needed was for Cedric to manipulate me again. If I continued to show up and show concern for him, he'd do just that. I felt like such an idiot for not putting closure to this yet, but I guess that timing was everything.

Later that night, I returned to my room. The first thing I looked at was the divorce papers that were still sprawled out on the table. I had picked them up a million and one times. Read them over, time and time again. Cedric didn't agree to give me half, but what he offered was a measly 20 percent for all of the headaches and setbacks he'd caused me. 20 percent was all that I was worth to him, not to mention that he'd get to keep the house. I basically had to start all over and make it work with 20 lousy percent.

Thinking about it, I tossed back another drink. The vodka burned my throat, but it relaxed me. Relaxed me so much that I fell back on the bed and started to laugh at this situation, instead of crying about it. This was it, the end, and it was time for me to get on with my life. I rushed up from the bed and straightened the pile of papers on the desk. I tucked them inside of my purse and snatched my keys off the dresser. I tossed back one more shot of vodka, and then stumbled to the door and left.

Feeling woozy, I plopped down in the driver's seat of my car and revved up the engine. The clock showed one minute after midnight, but I didn't care. I needed to sign these darn papers and deliver them to Cedric ASAP. Should have done this a long time ago, but today felt like the day that it needed to be done.

I swerved in and out of traffic, occasionally crossing the yellow and white lines. My eyes fluttered and felt real heavy. I didn't think I was that drunk, until I heard a loud horn that caused my eyes to shoot wide open. The man next to me lowered his window.

“Watch where the fuck you're going, you dizzy broad! You almost hit my freaking brand new car!”

I lifted my middle finger. “To hell with your car! I hope you have insurance!”

He shook his head and sped off in his Corvette. Who was he to say something to me, when he was driving that fast? I did slow down, but this time I was moving too slow. Other drivers blew their horns as well, yelling for me to get off the road. I honored their requests, just for a little while. My first stop was at Evelyn's place. Luckily for me, I didn't have to buzz for her to let me in. A resident and his girlfriend were going up on the elevator. I leaned against the wall, trying to rest my body that felt limp.

“Are you okay?” the man asked with his arm around his girlfriend's shoulder.

“Yeah,” the woman said. “You don't look so good.”

I threw my hand back at them. My voice slurred a little. “No, trust me, I'm fine. It's been a long day. I juss . . . just wanted to stop by to see an old friend of mine.”

They didn't respond. Got off the elevator at the fourth floor, while I made my way up to Evelyn's loft. I straightened my jacket and patted my hair. The stylist trimmed it for me earlier, and no matter what Cedric said, I thought it looked pretty darn good. My pants didn't hug my thighs like they used to, and in less than a week, I was down another three pounds. Barely able to stand, and wobbling from side to side, I knocked on Evelyn's door. There was no answer, so I knocked harder. This time, I moved closer to look into the peephole. I squinted and blew my breath on the door.

“Trick, I know you're in there. Open the door, so I can tell you how much yo' ass done ruined my life. It's what you want to hear, isn't it?”

Just then, Evelyn snatched the door open. She had on a soft purple robe that cut right at her thighs. Her hair was covered with a scarf and her makeup-free face was blemish free.

“I can't believe this,” she said, crossing her arms in front of her. “The perfect princess is at my door, drunk. If you came here to have one of your conversations, I'm not interested. I'm tired and I'm in no mood to keep fighting with you.”

I forced myself to stand up straight, as if I had it all together. “That's because you can't fight. Not one lick, and you always needed me to help you when you got beat up by those other kids. I was always there to help you, but you sure as hell didn't help me. What you did was fuck me over and I will nevah, evah forgive you.”

“I don't recall ever asking you to, so why don't you take your highly intoxicated ass elsewhere and leave me alone. You told me to stop calling Ceddy, so I did.”

I laughed and slapped my leg. “Ceddy? That's my nickname for him, so I wish you wouldn't be a little copycat. But then again, that's what you've always been. Everything I have or have had, you want. You want to be me, Evelyn, but there is only one bad bitch out there who goes by the name of Mrs. Cedric Thompson. Or should I say went by that name because I”—I pointed to my chest—“I'm throwing in the towel. I came to tell you that you and your baby can have him. After today, he's going to be”—I paused and hiccupped—“be a free man. I, on the other hand, will be a free woman with twenty percent of his income.”

Evelyn shook her head and gazed at me with disgust. “You're pathetic, Kayla. Truly pathetic. No wonder Cedric found himself curled up in my bed with me.”

I reached out to slap Evelyn, but this time, she grabbed my hand and shoved me backward. I couldn't keep my balance and fell on the floor.

“If you're still out here in one minute, I'm calling security. Cameras are all over the place, and I assure you that, this time, you will be arrested.”

Evelyn slammed her door. I barely had enough energy to peel myself off the floor but I managed. I stumbled back to the elevator and held on to the rail as the elevator went down to the parking garage. Somehow, I managed to get back into the car, and I drove myself to Cedric's place. Jacoby's car was parked in the curvy driveway. Adrianne's car was behind his. I wondered what she was doing over here this late; and if I were here, this would never be.

I put the key in the door and pushed it open. It squeaked, but inside of the house, there was nothing but silence. I used the railing to pull myself up the stairs. By the time I reached the second floor, I could see that Jacoby wasn't in his bedroom. Figuring that he was probably downstairs, I headed to the bedroom I once shared with my fake husband. I pushed on the double doors, watching as he lay there sound asleep. It must've been nice that one of us was resting well.

“Yo,” I shouted loud enough for him to hear me. “Cedric, get up. I need to get at you 'bout something real important.”

I staggered over to the bed. He didn't move, so I leaned down and placed my lips close to his ear.

“Get up!” I shouted. “Don't you hear me?”

Cedric jumped from his sleep and damn near fell out of the bed. He frowned at me and blinked several times to focus.

“What in the fuck are you doing?” he barked.

I put my hand on my hips and pursed my lips. “I . . . I'm doing what yo' grimy tail asked me to do. I'm signing these doggone papers so that we, you and me that is, can be free to fly like little birdies.”

I turned in circles, and flapped my arms as if I were flying around the room. Cedric sat up in bed and turned on the lamp. I could see him shaking his head.

“So, here you go.” I dug in my purse, trying to retrieve the papers. When I pulled them out, my purse fell on the floor and all of the contents inside scattered on the floor. I dropped to my knees, attempting to stuff my things back into my purse. But when I spotted a pen, I reached for it.

“Ah, ha!” I said with glee in my eyes. I held up the pen, showing it to Cedric. “There it is. Exactly what I was looking for. My little penny pen. Do you see it?”

Cedric didn't say a word. I plopped on the bed and slammed the messy papers on my lap. I scribbled my signature on the long line then tossed the papers at his face. I swiped my hands together then leaned in closer to him.

“Done. All done, and now you can move the hell on. Just make sure I get my twenty freaking percent because I have places to go, people to see, and a new life to go live.”

Cedric reached out to grab my face. He held it close to his and our eyes searched into each other's. “I hate to see you like this,” he said in a whisper. “No words can express how sorry I truly am, but after all that's happened, I know that saying I'm sorry will never be enough.”

“Yeah, well, I . . . I'm sorry 'bout this too, but it is what it is.”

I hiccupped again, and before I could back away from Cedric, vomit rushed up my throat. All I remember was it spraying in his face. After that, I blacked out.

 

I woke up in the morning, not knowing where I was. My head was banging, and the room I was in felt like it was spinning. I yawned and cracked my eyes wider to look next to me. That was when I saw Cedric. He was sitting up in bed with a food tray resting over his lap. A piece of toast was near his mouth and his glass of orange juice wiggled as the bed moved when I tried to sit up.

“Wha . . . How did I get over here?” I asked.

A wet rag dropped from my forehead, and I had on a tacky flowered nightgown that definitely didn't belong to me.

“I can't believe you don't remember.”

Cedric seemed to have an attitude, but I was concerned about how I'd gotten there. I remembered driving last night, and I also remembered walking up the stairs. That was pretty much it.

“I don't remember everything, but I guess it doesn't really matter. I do know what I had to drink, and . . . What's that smell? Something smells funny.”

“Maybe we didn't get a chance to clean up all of your puke. That could be what you're smelling.”

I tossed the covers aside and sat up. “I vomited? Where?”

“All over the place.”

“Stop lying, Cedric. You're just trying to make me feel bad.”

“If you don't believe me, fine. Go ask Cynthia. I'm sure she'll tell you all about it, especially since she and Jacoby had to help me clean you up.”

I got off the bed and looked down at the tacky nightgown again. Maybe that explained why I was wearing it. I left the room, and when I entered the kitchen, Cynthia was making breakfast.

“Good morning, Mrs. Thompson,” she said.

“Kayla will suit me just fine, Cynthia. Now please tell me something. What happened last night? How did I get into this gown?”

She smiled at me from behind the island. “Do you really want to know?”

“Yes, I do. Please tell me.”

Cynthia told me everything that happened last night. From me throwing up in Cedric's face, to him giving me a shower. She was the one who cleaned up my vomit and changed the sheets. And Jacoby was asked to help carry me to bed, because Cedric was too weak. Now, I felt really embarrassed. I apologized to her, and when I asked where Jacoby was at, she said he had already left with Adrianne. That reminded me about seeing her car parked outside last night, so I excused myself from the kitchen and went into another room to call Jacoby. He answered the phone, appearing to be out of breath.

“Where are you?” I asked.

“I'm at the gym with Adrianne. Are you feeling better?”

“Much better, and I apologize for whatever happened here last night. You already know that I have a lot of things on my mind, and even though alcohol isn't the answer, I used it to cope.”

“No need to explain yourself, Mama. I can honestly say that I understand. I'm dealing with some things too, and trust me when I say that you're not by yourself.”

His comment caught me a little off guard. I thought things were getting better for Jacoby. Apparently, something else was stressing him. “Do you mind telling me what else you're dealing with? Does it have anything to do with why Adrianne is here in the wee hours of the morning?”

“She's not always there in the wee hours of the morning. Sometimes, but not always.”

“Sometimes is more than enough. You know that's something I didn't allow while I was here, and I definitely don't allow it when I'm not. With that being said, answer my question. What else are you dealing with?”

I heard Jacoby sigh. He wasn't trying to have this conversation with me this morning. “Whatever you say, Mama. And the only thing I'm dealing with is school. Can't wait until the semester is over.”

“Why? Are your grades suffering? The last time we spoke about school, you said your grades had improved.”

“They're up and down. But I'll work it out, like I always do.”

“I'll make sure you do, and when I get back to the hotel, I'm going to look at your grades on parent portal. If anything isn't up to par, you know you're going to hear about it.”

“I'm sure I will. Meanwhile, I'm trying to get my workout on. Can I hit you back later?”

I wasn't sure if his grades were the issue or not, but I left the conversation there. I told him to enjoy his workout, and asked him to call me later. After I ended the call, I went back into the kitchen where Cynthia was. She interrupted my thoughts.