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Authors: Angela Weaver

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BOOK: Frost on My Window
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The room was quiet. No loud music from freshman neighbors or sounds of passing cars and ambulances headed down Chestnut street towards University Hospital. One of the advantages of living off-campus.

Sherrie walked to the far end of the room and gestured towards the sofa and chair. Against the beige walls was a large mahogany bookcase, full of textbooks, strategically placed knickknacks and picture frames. On the wall were two black and white photos of the Brooklyn Bridge and the Manhattan skyline. I knew that the photographer’s initials were on the back. Lance had asked for my help in picking them out at the photography exhibit.

“Leah, have a seat.” She gracefully seated herself in the side chair. I took a seat opposite her on the sofa. I sat on the edge and crossed my legs. My eyes focused on the arrangement of fresh flowers that graced the coffee table.

I reached out and touched the orchids. As a part of the sorority pledging process, one of us would have to deliver orchids to Sherrie once a week. I’d always wanted to keep the beautiful blossoms instead of handing them over into Sherrie’s perfectly manicured fingers.

“You made us walk into Center City in the middle of winter to get these,” I said.

“That’s water under the bridge.” She waved her manicured hand dismissively. Sherrie continued, “It was part of pledging. Besides we were reprimanded.”

I leaned forward and inhaled the sweet perfume of the flowers before glancing over at her, meeting those wary eyes. She would never acknowledge that she’d gone too far those weeks we struggled through the sorority pledging process.

“I can’t believe you’re still holding a grudge,” she said.

It had been two years since I’d had to watch her take a pair of scissors and hack off Allison’s hair. I’d seen Sherrie’s face that night. It was full of vengeful triumph as she held Allison’s curly locks in her hand. I suppressed a shudder.

“I’m not holding a grudge, I’m holding a memory.”

It could have been me, but it hadn’t been. Sherrie had picked the weakest of my line sisters. Allison’s mother had been an AKA. There was nothing she wouldn’t do to join. That desire for acceptance and her long wavy hair had been all Sherrie had needed.

“Let he who is without sin cast the first stone,” she said with a confident look on her face. Like she’d scored some huge point.

“Look, I called you over here tonight so that we can make a fresh start. I want us to be friends,” she smiled.

Sherrie almost had me with that smooth line about forgiveness, but the look of triumph on her face killed any thought of being friendly with the woman.

I said, as evenly as I could, “You want to be friends?”

“Does that surprise you?”

The question was so ludicrous that I simply looked at her for a second or two. It took me two tries before I could find an answer. “Yeah, I’m surprised.”

“We’ve never really taken the time to get to know one another. We’re going to be graduating soon and I don’t want to pass up the opportunity. You and I have so many things in common.”

The light bulb went off. “I get it. This is about Lance.”

Her face was an open book. The way her lips pressed together into a thin line showed her annoyance.

“Look, Leah,” she sighed. “I’ll admit that Lance would love it if we were cool and I’d like for us to be friends.”

She sat back and crossed her legs expectantly, waiting for my reply. A queen on her throne. Somehow the woman made her statement sound more like an order than a request. The whole situation seemed unreal.

“You know what? I’m going to be honest with you. How about that?” I looked her in the eye. “You and I will never be friends. Since you’re so holier than thou tonight, how about a new phrase: ‘God don’t like ugly.’ You might have had to haze us a little while we were on line. That I understand. But cutting off a girl’s hair, making us walk into Center City on the coldest day in winter and then sitting here still not willing to say you’re sorry? Sherrie, I really don’t need or want friends like you.” I stood up. I’d had about enough.

“I should have known that you weren’t woman enough to know when you’re beat.”

“Excuse me? What did you say?” My voice rose.

“Face it, girlfriend. Lance won’t ever look at you.” She pointedly made a show of looking me up and down and then tossing her hair. “This following him around like a lost puppy is really pathetic. You need to find someone else.” She paused and laughed. Her laughter grated like a fingernails on a chalkboard.

She continued, “No one wants a stuck-up, tight-lipped, white girl wannabe like you.”

I moved before I could think. My hand lashed out, striking her face. I wanted to scream as I stood trying to keep still when every nerve in my body wanted to beat her senseless. It took me a moment to realize I was shaking.

“You’ll regret that,” she threatened as she rubbed her cheek. Even under the glow of the halogen lamp, I could see the faint hint of redness in her skin. I couldn’t tell if it was from my slap or her anger.

“No, I won’t.” I reached down to pick up my book bag.

“When Lance hears about this, he’s going drop you like a bad habit,” she screeched.

“And who’s going to tell him?” I shot back.

Sherrie’s smirk abruptly disappeared. In that moment, something alien welled up within me. Something dark and heavy under my skin. It lay there coiled and waiting. It felt as if I were bleeding and it hurt. I walked across the room and jerked open the door. I took two more steps before turning around to face her again.

“If you come against me, I promise that I won’t stop until I’ve pulled down this house of cards that you’ve built.”

As I stomped down the steps and walked through the streets towards my dorm, I heard her words echoing in my mind,
You’ll regret this!

In the end, she was right. I regretted not stomping her like a bug.

Chapter 6

“Come on in. I’m almost ready.”

I waved Traxx through the door and hurried to my room. Part of me wanted to stand there with my mouth wide open like a star-stuck, hormone-crazed adolescent. The other part knew that Traxx was just a man with eyes the color of maple syrup on a Saturday morning. He was a tall, beautiful brother with a golden voice. I leaned against my dresser and drew an unsteady breath.

Just a man, I reminded myself. A gorgeous man that had me raiding Rena’s closet for the low-cut black Armani dress I had on.

Just another highly paid multi-talented black man, I repeated to myself while putting on a dab of lipstick. He deals with the same daily drama just like everybody else and wipes his butt with two-ply toilet paper. He was the epitome of handsome. Traxx’s midnight locks had given women across America a new reason to dream. When you saw him smile on video, your finger just itched to hit the pause button.

I came back to find Traxx looking at pictures on the mantle. As I took the chance to observe him, he was staring at one in particular. His hand reached out towards the picture of Rena sitting on the beach reading a book. His fingers seemed to caress her cheek through the glass. The man had it bad. I sighed and took a step forward. Another one bites the dust.

“Ready to go?” I asked cheerfully.

“That was quick.” He turned, surprised.

Closing and locking the door, I caught myself wondering what woman in her right mind had ever kept this man waiting. We settled into an awkward silence as we walked down the stairs. I was about to comment on the weather when Mrs. Renald stepped out the door with Jacques, her little chihuahua, trailing behind. Jacques immediately began barking. I bent down and gave him a pat on the head as he sniffed my shoes for Simba’s scent.

“Sorry, ole boy, no treats this time,” I whispered, giving the energetic dog a quick scratch behind the ear.

“Leah, you look
très belle
.”

I straightened up and smiled. “Thank you.”

“Who is this young man with you?” She peered up at Traxx through her glasses.

“Let me introduce you to…” I opened and closed my mouth. I didn’t know his real name.

He reached out and took her small delicate hand within his own. “Trey Matos. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

My lips curved into a smile. The man was politeness itself.

The older woman shook his hand and then turned his large palm over in her small hands. She studied it closely. I watched as Traxx shifted uncomfortably and glanced at me in confusion. I gave him what I hoped was a reassuring smile.

Mrs. Renald patted Traxx’s cheek with her other hand and smiled benignly.

“Oh, she gonna have her hands full with this one.” The older woman adjusted her grip on Jacques’s leash and opened the door leading out of the brownstone, leaving Traxx and me staring.

“What was that all about?” he asked.

I shrugged my shoulders and bit my lip to keep from laughing. He looked at me as if I was crazy anyway.

“Couldn’t tell you.” I had an idea, or maybe it was hope. Who knows? We walked out the building and he led me to the passenger side of his SUV, opened the door and helped me inside.

Traxx entered the Jeep as I looked out into the night through tinted windows.

“So you and Rena are sisters?” he asked later while merging onto the Brooklyn-Queens Expressway.

In my heart, we were sisters. “We grew up together.” If Rena hadn’t disclosed our connection, I wasn’t about to.

“She told me you work with the Internet. That’s cool.”

I smiled. He thought my job was cool. I looked toward the roof to keep in a snort. Traxx’s album had gone platinum and he had his own small money management firm. “It gets hectic sometimes but it’s fun. What about you? Where’d you get the accent?”

“You noticed, huh?” He glanced at me. “Some of my relatives live in Arkansas. I love to listen to them tell their stories during our family reunions. I grew up in San Antonio, Texas. My family still lives there.”

“How are you liking the East Coast?” I reached out to grab the door handle as he hit the brakes. He swore and honked his horn, just like a New Yorker.

“It’s okay except for these crazy cab drivers.”

I laughed, and the sound spread through the automobile. I knew exactly how he felt. “Next time try the subway. It’ll save you the stress.”

“Yeah, I’ll think about that,” he replied.

“So do you know…” I broke off at the sound of a woman’s voice.

“Please exit at the next ramp.”

“…Nina?”

“She and I went to Stanford together,” he replied.

“Left turn onto Park Avenue.”

“That’s cool.”

“I’m proud of my girl. She worked hard for this.”

“She’s got an amazing voice.”

“Turn right at the next light.”

We parked two blocks away from the club. Traxx put his arm around my back and we blended into the well-dressed club crowd headed towards Fifty-first Street. We turned the corner to see limousines slowly stopping to let out their glamorous passengers while photographers struggled to push past security and each other. Traxx somehow managed to walk us through security after nodding to the crew of muscular, black-clad guards.

Before I knew it we were walking up the stairs behind a trio of Versace-clad women. There were handsome men all over the place dressed in Brooks Brothers suits with nice shiny Kenneth Cole shoes. Every woman in the club was dressed to kill and the low lighting made everyone look nice.

We entered the room just as Nina stepped on stage. As soon as she got through the first verse, I knew I was going to have one of my ‘I want a man to call my own for the rest of my life’ moments. Her sultry voice enthralled everyone in the place.

Traxx urged me forward past the journalists and other guests towards the VIP area. I sank down into the small booth. A waiter magically appeared with a glass of champagne. I sipped the bubbly and then let out a sneeze.

“Bless you.”

I turned towards Traxx and wanted to crawl under the table. I had been staring at the stage and forgotten he was there. I glanced around the room and felt better to see that 90 percent of the men in the place had forgotten to close their mouths.

Nina was one blessed sista. Not only was she beautiful, but girlfriend could sing like nobody’s business. My eyes caught one man who seemed to be mesmerized by her performance. He hadn’t even bothered to take a drink and his date had long since started tossing back martinis one after another.

Rena arrived about halfway through the performance. I glanced up in time to see her briefly greet Traxx, then slide in next to me. She’d changed into a chocolate-colored cocktail dress.

“How’s my girl doing?” she whispered.

“Need you ask? Nina’s going to have the critics eating out of the palm of her hand while everybody and their mother runs out to pick up a copy of her CD.”

“Did you see her?” Rena asked a moment later.

“Who?” I questioned.

“At the bar on the left. Gold slinky dress, sitting next to the basketball player.” Rena pointed before getting up and heading back towards the crowd that had gathered near the stage.

I turned and looked towards the bar. The sound of Nina’s singing receded. My eyes locked on the face of a woman I’d never forget. Sherrie. Instead of facing the stage, she looked back towards our booth. Her eyes darted from Traxx to me and then back to Traxx. Recognition. I watched as she smiled and lifted her glass in a mock salute before turning back to the well-dressed man at her side.

“Want to dance?” came the deep voice at my side.

I turned to look at Traxx. He had gone silent since Rena left the table. Too many memories were whispering in my mind, taking me back.

“Sure.” I stood and took his outstretched hand while checking the urge to turn and look into the faces of the people I knew were staring.

We joined the other couples on the dance floor. He put his arm politely around the small of my back and I placed my hand on his shoulder.
You’re dancing with the choirboy.
I kept that image in my mind.

“Leah, can I ask you a question?”

I drew back to look at Traxx. “Sure.”

I was happy for the distraction. I wanted to close my eyes. No matter where I looked I saw stares, measuring eyes and whispers. Maybe an actress, up and coming singer, artist, or family friend. The truth would have everyone laughing. Just a woman without stars in her eyes.

“How does someone get to know Rena better?”

Very smooth. The last man who tried date my cousin asked me how he could “get” Rena, as if she were something you could order off a MacDonald’s menu.

“What have you tried?” I questioned.

Traxx looked over my shoulder. I saw his jaw tighten.

I hurriedly explained, “I only ask because I can tell you what won’t work better than what will.”

He didn’t say a word, just kept dancing. “I asked her out to dinner.” The reluctant admission seemed to loosen him up.

“Okay.”

“Three times,” he sighed.

“Oh…”

“Is she playing hard to get or something?”

I shook my head. “Rena doesn’t play games.”

“If you say so.” He sounded unconvinced.

I leaned over to look towards the backstage door. Rena was standing next to the well-known DJ. Then I glanced up at Traxx and caught a glimpse of longing in his eyes as he stared at my cousin. The polite Texan had half his heart sitting right under the sleeve I was holding. Damn, what can I say? I’m a sucker for a pretty face and a deep voice.

“Ask her to dance. But before she gives you an excuse mention the Children’s Benefit Party. She’s helping organize this year’s charity event.”

“Thanks, Leah.”

“Just don’t mess up.”

“You’re one mad cool sista.”

“And you are a real gentleman. So just drop me off by the nearest empty seat and get to it.”

* * *

“If you’re not careful you’ll lose him.”

I turned and looked at the owner of the voice. Sherrie. Her flawless face stared dispassionately at Rena and Traxx as they danced.

“No chance of that,” I replied. Lose him? Like the man was a cell phone or an earring.

Sherrie strained her eyes. “Isn’t that your cousin? I remember her from the wedding reception.”

I turned back towards her, giving her my full attention. “Long time no see, Sherrie.” Not long enough, I wanted to add.

“She might be your family, but I’d still put her in check if I were you.”

My fingers tightened on the wine glass. The woman was giving me advice. I shook my head. Same old Sherrie. Never trust a woman. She was beautiful, educated, had a nice career and was still threatened by anything with breasts. Amazing.

“I’m fine, Sherrie. How are you?”

To underscore the statement, I gave Traxx a thumbs up sign before taking a sip. Hell. I was more than fine. To see Rena dancing and laughing with a man I knew could rock her world about made my night.

Sherrie looked at me as if trying to figure out what planet I had just stepped off. She raised a manicured eyebrow. “My…my…my. How people change.”

“And some stay the same. What’s up, Sherrie?”

“I thought I’d give you the opportunity to gloat. I bet you did a little victory dance when you heard about the divorce.”

“What?” I only heard that last part of her speech.

“Lance divorced me. You can have him back.” She looked at me like a queen granting a favor to a gracious subject.

I stared at her and blinked. Taking a deep breath I placed my hands flat on the cool table. I looked over at Sherrie’s impassive face. “First, I have nothing to be happy about. Lance was my best friend. Unlike you, I don’t delight in other people’s misery. Second, I don’t want Lance.” I wanted to add I never had, but that was a lie and we both knew it.

She raised her glass in a mock salute. “Of course. Looks like you’ve stepped up your game. Bigger fish to filet?” I watched as she inclined her head in the direction of Rena and Traxx.

I was about to slap her back to slavery when her partner came by. Sherrie changed in an instant. She looked up at the man, the picture of warmth and innocence. The fool ate it up.

“Sorry I took so long, darling,” he said, almost tripping over his own words.

“That’s okay, Robert. I was just catching up with an old acquaintance.”

She smiled at me and left. No introductions. No goodbyes. I took a drink and savored the sensation of the tiny bubbles of champagne slipping down my throat. The woman was a real piece of work.

* * *

We made it back to the car around two a.m. I was really tired from dancing and getting my boogie on. I took a seat up front with Traxx while my cousin stretched out in the back seat.

“Where did Nina disappear to, Rena? I wanted to tell her how awesome she was tonight.”

“She had to run up to Jacobi Hospital.”

“What’s wrong?” I turned all the way around to look into the backseat.

Rena was smiling. “Her older sister went into labor. Nina’s going to add ‘aunt’ as well as ‘multi-platinum’ to her credits.”

“Girl or boy?” Traxx asked.

“Don’t know. Her sister didn’t want to know the sex of the baby. I know Nina’s brother-in-law wanted a girl. Nina was rooting for a boy.”

Traxx drove confidently towards Brooklyn. I looked towards the dashboard and tracked the progress of the little car-shaped object as it moved along the series of lines. Impressive. I sat back and turned my attention to the conversation between Rena and Traxx.

“Damien didn’t tell me how long you were going to be in New York, Traxx,” Rena said.

“Yeah. We decided to leave that open.” Traxx began to chuckle. “Sorry, private joke. Damien wasn’t sure how this Texas boy would take to big city life.”

I could hear the frown in Rena’s voice. “But you went to Stanford.”

“Yeah. I guess that doesn’t count.” He smiled.

“Doing damn good so far,” I commented as he smoothly exited off the expressway and pulled to a stop at the light.

“Amen,” Rena echoed.

“Thank you, ladies. Now if you’d like to continue singing my praises, I could use the backup on Monday.”

BOOK: Frost on My Window
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