GRIT (The Silver Nitrate Series Book 2) (25 page)

“I
t’s going into
production. You can wait.” She shook her water bottle up, filled to the brim with a packet of strawberry lemonade Crystal Lite.

“Give me that shit!” The man reached for the game prototype, and she moved away in the nick of time. He hovered over her, fuming like some irritated giant.

“No, I don’t want you to see it yet.”

“Why not?!” He tried to grab her once more, this time catching the fabric of her shirt in his grasp.

“Because they’re doing a big unveiling.” She wiggled free and sauntered about.

“Unveiling my ass! Come on now! I was your cheerleader. If it weren’t for me, this magic wouldn’t even have happened. Let’s play a little bit. I won’t tell anyone what it’s about, I promise.”

“Magic? Happened? Zenith, I ordered some lawn chairs and you need to have several seats. What you did was waltz your ass up there uninvited and embarrass me!” Laughing, she plopped herself down on his living room couch. He sat beside her and ran his hand over her leg.

“Well, it helped though, didn’t it? I gave Ms. Simone some food for thought.” He slicked his phone out of his pocket and looked down at it. “Do you mind if I run out for a bit? I want to visit Paw.”

“Of course not. I can just chill over here.”

“Don’t go through my shit while I’m gone.” He grabbed his car keys, a smirk on his face.

“Uh, you have the
wrong
one, dear! I’m not
that
chick, okay?! Insecurity is not in my vocabulary,” she called out after him as he walked to the front door.

“But being stingy is. When I get back, I wanna fuck. Get out them draws. And they better not have holes in them. You give
zero
fucks!” Before she could respond, he was out the door, locked the damn thing, and marched to his parked car with loud footsteps.

“I’ve
never
had holes in my draws, you lyin’ ass!” she belted, trying to curtail her laughter. She hated how he got her going, but loved it, too. On a deep sigh, she plopped on the couch and kicked her feet up. She reached for the remote control on the table, turned the television on, and settled upon a Lifetime movie. Typically, such a thing wouldn’t appeal to her, but it had been a long, exhausting week… and the popular channel promised a good distraction. Out the corner of her eye, she noticed an open notebook lying on the lower shelf of the coffee table.

That’s Zenith’s handwriting…

She turned away from the thing, trying to convince herself it was none of her business, and to leave well enough alone.

“But it wasn’t an affair… you were never here for me. It was necessity! Can’t you see, Joseph!”
an actress blurted from the screen. Silver rolled her eyes and sat up. Throwing her morals to the wind, she grabbed the damn thing.

Okay, I’m only going to read this one page. I won’t flip to another, nothing like that. Hell, it’s open. It was lying there. It’s not like I was snooping…

She began to read it… and then her lips kinked in a smile.

…This is a poem, no… it’s a song… He’s got chorus written right here… Oh my goodness, this is nice…

She placed it back down and got settled once again. On a yawn, she picked up her cell phone and sent him a text:

SILVER:
I love you. Kiss Paw for me.

She smiled as she hit send.

ZENITH:
I get an ‘I Love You’ out the blue? You must’ve read my notebook and seen the song. You’re so predictable. Lol. STAY OUT MY SHIT! I’ll let him know. Love you too, baby.

She burst out laughing, cursed him, and laughed some more before drifting off to sleep…

…One week later

“I don’t understand
why he can’t go home with me. I keep getting the run around,” Zenith stated as calmly as he could. He leaned against the hospital doorframe.

“Mr. Taylor, he stops breathing from time to time and we just want to be safe. He can go home soon, but we’d rather take the necessary precautions.”

Zenith understood, but he was disappointed. He looked around the room, hating it. It reminded him too much of the nursing home, and smelled a bit like it, too. He took a seat next to the man, and grabbed his hand.

“Paw, you awake, old man?” He smiled sadly down at the guy. After a few seconds, Paw’s tired eyes fluttered and he instinctually reached for the tubes in his nose. “No, no… leave those in. You need them.” He patted the man’s hand gently, then grasped it affectionately once more.

“What…” The man swallowed hard, his face in an obvious expression of pain. “What…have you been up to?” Paw struggled to sit up, and Zenith helped him get in position.

“Just working and… well, guess what?”

“Good…news?”

Zenith nodded with a broad smile.

“A couple of record labels are interested in us. Everything has happened so fast. Like, in literally only a week, Paw, we made what some people call a mix tape. We did it in a professional studio. Then this agent shopped it to the big record labels, and two liked it enough to want to meet with us.”

Paw’s eyes glistened as he grinned and weakly patted his hand.

“Zen…that’s…just wonderful, son. So proud of you…”

“It’s because of you. I owe it
all
to you.” He kissed the top of Paw’s hand. He was glad to see him communicating more today, his speech sharper than usual. Perhaps he’d pull out and outwit the doctors? Yet, Zenith knew deep down that wasn’t a possibility. He’d seen the many test results, had them explained to him in a way he could understand. Paw’s body was riddled with all sorts of internal battles, many of which his vessel no longer gave a damn to fight anymore. His white blood cells were low, and he was simply alive, but barely.

The thought of this drew tears to his eyes, but he quickly wiped them away.

“It’s okay… to be sad. Your mother…was…an emotional woman, Zen,” he began. “She was big hearted and…a…little naïve. She…only saw the good…in people.” He cleared his throat. “When she became…pregnant with…you, she was very happy. We all were. She cried most…of the pregnancy,” he said with a smile. “Not…because she…was sad. But, because…of her…hormones…and being happy. We believed…because she cried…so much…she’d give birth to a crybaby,” he teased, causing Zenith to grin.

“But, you hated crying once you got… past age five or so. That was… because of me. I’d…tell you not…to cry, when you did. But, I…was wrong, Zen. There’s nothing wrong…with a man…crying…sometimes. I see your tears. I’m…sorry.” He squeezed his hand gently as more tears budded in his eyes. These, he didn’t wipe away.

“I’m dying…I’ve known. I…just need you…to know… that raising you, and… living with you…have been…some of the best times…of my life. You…are so much…like me…at your…age. It’s like…seeing history…repeat…itself. I like…seeing someone…in my image. Neither…of my sons…were like me. They…looked like…me, but that…was it. You…you though…were just like your Paw. Everyone…knew it.

“When your mother died, Zenith…there was…shame.”

Zenith shook his head. A pang of pressure flooded his chest cavity.

“But… we were… wrong. She…didn’t die… of a suicide. She… died… of a broken heart.”

Another tear rolled down Zenith’s cheek.

“She’d been what you all call depressed. We should…have taken… it more seriously. She…tried, to raise you, love you…but she…could not. She…was dying of…a disease…there is no cure…for. She…believed…no other man…would want her, to help her…raise her son. She thought…you’d somehow… grow up…and be…ashamed of her. She was…very…delicate. She…could not handle…what life had…done to her. All…she did wrong…was love…my son…”

Zenith lowered his head onto his Paw’s lap and sobbed loud and hard. He clasped his hand harder and squeezed it again, hoping he wasn’t hurting the man’s fingers in the process.

“Paw,” he said after a few minutes, composing himself and sitting back up. “I’m in love. I’m going to ask Silver to marry me.”

Paw’s eyes hooded and he smiled in an all-knowing way.

“I know…”

“I was uh, thinking last night… and I, you know, was just brainstorming. How would you feel if I did something different, something special?”

“Well, no use…in telling me…Zen. I won’t remember.” The man chuckled, the sound so contagious, he followed suit. “Just…surprise me.” Paw tapped him gently on the shoulder.

“Okay, that’s what I’ll do…I’ll just surprise you. In the meantime, do you mind if I lie next to you? Take a little catnap?”

“Not… much room. You’re so big…like you’ve been eating raw goats and grass seed.”

Zenith snorted and managed a way to lie down on the bed, his head against his grandfather’s. Slightly curling his legs upward, he slipped into a daydream, recalling how he would do the same thing when he was a little boy. Sometimes, when he was afraid or angry, just getting close to Paw would make him feel so much better. In some strange way, he wanted the strength Paw had—something to make him feel strong, like he could make it through.

When Zenith was growing up, Paw didn’t seem afraid of anything. As a little boy, Zenith truly admired that. At this very moment, though, he didn’t feel weak, fearful, or lost. He simply felt nostalgic.

It was time to cuddle up close to Paw, and share a dream together, the same dreams Osha visited him in. Perhaps with them being so close, she’d visit him, too. And so they drifted…deeper and deeper, until all Zenith could hear were the machines and the heart monitor. The sounds reminded him of humming, a low drum. Paw’s heart played a beautiful beat, one his heart, mind, and soul could dance to…

Silver stepped onto
her porch and paused. Taped to her front door were a paper snowflake, an orange leaf, a small red rose, and a pair of brand new flip-flops with the tag still attached, and definitely not her size.

“What the hell is this?” She snatched the rose off and gave it a hearty sniff. As she reached for the door to insert her key, she noticed it was slightly ajar. She reached into her brown tote bag to pull out her phone and call the cops, but just then, the door swung all the way open and there stood Zenith in a crisp white shirt and a pair of jeans. His shoes were off, and he looked so comfortable, laid back, and sexy. In the background, music played. Trey Songz’ ‘I Want You.’

“Hey.” She smiled as he reached for her hand and helped her inside. “What are you doing here? You never use my key I gave you or don’t call before coming. What’s up? Paw okay?” she asked, feeling worried.

“Just needed to talk to you for a second is all,” he said smoothly, with a soft smile. “Just come on in.”

She stood in her small foyer and immediately smelled the scented candles, before she saw them. Matter of fact, candles of various sizes and colors flickered across the entire space. Her heart picked up a faster beat.

“Have a seat, baby.”

She sat down in a chair he pointed towards. “Zenith, what are you doing?”

The man sat down cross-legged in front of her and rested a palm on each of his thighs as he looked up into her eyes.

“You’re about to find out… It was many decades ago. The exact year doesn’t matter, but do know that I know it,” he began. “There was a man, an Iroquois Indian from the Seneca Nation, who saw a woman across the room while performing at a wedding.

“He was instantly attracted to her. Many believe love at first sight is silly and unrealistic. They roll their eyes at the idea that someone can look at another human being and feel an instant connection. Well, I feel sorry for those people, and I felt sorry for me, too, because I was that person until I met you…” He lifted his arm and took her hand.

On a swallow, he continued, “My entire life, my grandfather has spoken about the four seasons. On your front door, I placed different items that represent them, the ones that we think about…but that’s not exactly what he meant. Nevertheless, there are seasons to life, seasons to music, seasons to desire, and seasons to friendship. The only thing that doesn’t have a promised end season is love. It can begin, but never die. It will remain with the two people, trapped inside them, and they’ll refuse to let it go. The man at the wedding, the one that was performing, was my grandfather, baby. He looked across the room and saw his future wife.”