Suspicions (26 page)

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Authors: Sasha Campbell

BOOK: Suspicions
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39
Noelle
“Who's next?”
A young petite thing waved her hand, then moved out onto the floor. I'd never seen her before, which meant she was a new customer.
“Have a seat.” I reached up and touched her hair, checking the texture. By the look of things, it had been a while since she'd last had a perm. “What can I do for you today?”
She shrugged. “I want just a wash and set.”
“No perm?” I don't know how she expected me to roll up some naps.
Shaking her head, she replied, “I don't need a perm. I have naturally curly hair.”
Curly where?
“A texturizer would look really good,” I suggested, hoping I could persuade her to do something to that mop.
She shook her head. “Uh-uh, no chemicals. Just a wash and trim.”
All right, it was her hair, so I wasn't about to argue with her. A lot of people were on that natural kick, but most folks either were locking their hair or keeping it braided. She was on some afro kick. A few inches, yes, but her shit had to be at least eight inches long, and that was patted down.
The music was thumping with Mary J. Blige's new beat, and I sang along while I washed and conditioned her thick course hair. As soon as I rinsed it out, I signaled for her to move over to my station and take a seat.
“Are you related to Mr. Gordon?” she asked, staring at me through the mirror.
I nodded. “Yes, that's my husband.”
Her eyes lit up. “Ooh! He's the nicest man. I had him for senior English last semester and he knew how to make class fun.”
“Yes, I hear that a lot about him.” Just thinking about my husband made me smile. I couldn't wait for him to get back home next weekend.
“He also knew how to help you if you were struggling. He would go out of his way to do whatever he could to make sure we passed his class.”
“Yes, that sounds like him.”
She was sitting there grinning with this faraway look in her eyes. “He used to spend a lot of time with my friend Amber after school trying to tutor her. She was failing English. All she used to talk about was Mr. Gordon this and Mr. Gordon that,” she chuckled. “I think she had a mad crush on him, but who could blame her. He is fine. You know . . . there was even a rumor for a while that he and Amber was secretly having an affair. Is that crazy or what?” She started laughing real loud and ghetto, expecting me to join in. When she realized I didn't see anything funny, she sobered real quick. “You know how folks be lying and starting rumors. Anyway, Amber ended up dropping out before the first marking period. Come to find out she was pregnant.”
It took everything I had to hold it together. “Pregnant?” My voice cracked and I cleared my throat several times. “That's a shame. Did she end up going back to school?”
She shrugged. “I don't know. We stopped hanging out after that. I haven't seen her around, but I heard she had a little girl.”
While I rolled her hair, I found my mind considering another possibility. Lord, forgive me for even thinking about my husband messing around with a student, but I was getting desperate, and at this point anything was possible. “I remember Grant talking about Amber. Said she was one of his favorite students. What's her last name?” It was hard trying to lie and asked a question like it was no big deal.
“Andersen . . . Amber Andersen, with an E.”
That was easy enough. At least I had a name and a new lead to follow.
I couldn't get her hair done fast enough. I had this weird feeling, and one question kept going around and around in my head. Could my husband have fathered that baby? I just didn't want to believe it, but something just didn't feel right to me. Grant spent a lot of time with his students and took his career serious; however, I couldn't help thinking about one of his students dropping out. The school year began in late August and if she dropped out in October, that would have made her at least eight weeks pregnant. Meaning, she would have given birth in April, right around the time Sierra was born. I didn't want to believe it, but it was the only lead I had.
So far, I've called practically every student in the yearbook and Scott was pretty much MIA. He had sense enough to know that he had hell to pay. I was tired of him ignoring his responsibilities—little Michael and, until I found out otherwise, Sierra.
I was still having a hard time accepting that my best friend had given birth to my grandchild, but if I wanted to be a part of Michael's life, I had to find a way to get over it. Whitney was back at home, but Michael, although he was doing better, would stay in the hospital until he gained at least another pound.
After my last client of the day, I went back to my office, retrieved the phone book, and looked for every Andersen within a commutable distance. There were five. I ripped out the page and stuck it in my pocket. I planned to call or drive by each address until I found Amber and figured out what the hell was going on. My son wasn't cooperating and Grant was out of the country, which meant I had to get out there and find the answers on my own.
It was almost 7:00 PM. when I pulled in front of a small ranch-style house and climbed out. I had called earlier, pretending to be a friend, and asked for Amber. When I was told she was at school, I thought I had hit the lottery. I followed the directions I got on MapQuest and was surprised to be driving in a fairly decent neighborhood where folks actually watered their grass. That's just not something you saw too often in neighborhoods on the south side of Chicago. I pulled in front of a brick house with black shutters behind a Ford Focus. I moved up to the door and knocked. A few seconds later, a beautiful white woman with long blond hair and blue eyes came to the door. She was wearing purple scrubs, so I figured either she was a nurse or worked in housekeeping at the hospital.
“May I help you?” she asked.
I put on my best smile and asked,“Are you Amber's mother?”
She gave me a curious look from my eyes down to my toes. “Yes, I am. Who are you?”
I nibbled on my lip trying to determine the best way to proceed. “I'm sorry, this is kind of awkward. My name is Noelle Gordon; my husband, Grant, was your daughter's teacher last year.”
The sparkle in her eyes told me she knew exactly who I was. “Yes, what can I do for you?”
“I was wondering if I could talk to your daughter?”
“She's not here. What is it that you need from my daughter?” She was starting to get a little testy with me and I couldn't fault the woman. I would have done the same.
Laughing, I tried to lighten an already awkward situation. “This might sound ridiculous, but around two months ago someone dropped a baby off on my porch. I heard your daughter was pregnant during her senior year and I was wondering if maybe . . . Amber was Sierra's mama.” There, I said it.
The female smirked like she knew the answer to a secret before she even set her lips to speak. “Yes, as a matter of fact, Sierra is her daughter.”
My jaw dropped. I couldn't believe I had finally found her. It hurt knowing the circumstances because discovering Amber opened a whole other jar of problems for me.
“Finally,” I said, followed by a deep breath. “After all these weeks of searching, I've finally found her. May I come by later and talk to Amber?”
Her mother shook her head. “She won't be here. She's going to school in South Carolina.”
“South Carolina?” I was completely thrown for a loop by this entire situation. “No offense . . . but what kind of mother leaves her child on a doorstep, then leaves town?”
The woman folded her arms against her chest, then replied, “She didn't leave her on your doorstep. I did.”
“But why? And what did you mean by . . . what's done in the dark?”
She smoothed her hands along the front of her shirt, then rolled her eyes in my direction. “No offense, but this is really none of your business. The person you need to be asking is your husband.” She then slammed the door in my face.
40
Candace
Ever since I got fired, I'd been moping around feeling sorry for myself. I didn't have a job. My man was a joke, and I was the laughingstock of the neighborhood. I guess I could say life wasn't fair, but did it have to happen to mine?
“You can't keep feeling sorry for yourself. Isn't that what you told me?”
I opened my eyes and stared up at my best friend while she put a deep conditioner in my hair. If Chauncey hadn't been suspended, I would have never stepped foot in Situations again.
Tiffany gave me a sympathetic smile as she spoke. “You told me to let it go and be thankful I found out when I did; well, I am thankful you told me. I just hate that you lost your job for it.”
I shrugged my shoulder. “I knew the consequences when I told you. But I just couldn't let you marry that fool without knowing the truth.”
“And I thank you for it. I definitely would have been making the worst mistake of my life.” Tiffany leaned me back in the seat. I always loved the feel of warm water running through my hair. She waited until I was sitting over at her booth before she asked, “Have you talked to Chauncey?”
I glared at her. “For what? It's humiliating enough as it is.”
“Candy, you should at least give the man a chance to explain,” she scolded.
“Screw him,” I said, sitting up straight in my seat.
Tiffany grew silent and had sense enough to know I was done talking about Chauncey. A couple of days ago, she told me he wanted to apologize to me in person, but I still couldn't forgive him. Just thinking about Chauncey hurt so much I wanted to punch my fist through a wall. I was crazy about him and I thought we really had something there, but it had all been a lie. To think I had wanted to spend the rest of my life with him. How was I supposed to forgive him after he lied and broke my heart? As far as I was concerned, things could never be the same again. The best thing he could do was stay the hell away from me.
After Tiffany hooked up my hair, I stopped at Church's Chicken for a two-piece, then headed home. I didn't have the guts to tell my parents I lost my job, so I kept dropping Miasha off in the morning and picking her up at five. Thank goodness Mama always contacted me on my cell phone, so I wasn't worried about her calling the clinic and finding out. The last thing I needed was for Papa to start worrying and insisting that Miasha and I move back in with them. I loved them, but they could be smothering and overly protective at times.
I was sitting and watching
The Ellen DeGeneres Show
when I heard a knock at the door. I started to ignore it because not too many people knew I had lost my job. But whoever it was, kept knocking, so I went and answered the door and turned up my nose when I spotted Tyree standing there. He had been MIA for the past three weeks.
“What're you doing here?” I asked, and allowed my eyes to travel down his body. Tyree was standing there in jeans and a nice button-down shirt, wearing a belt, and was even smelling good.
“I dropped by the clinic and they told me you didn't work there anymore.”
“What do you want?” I asked with a suspicious frown.
He scowled at my attitude. “I wanna talk to you about something.”
I stepped aside and he moved inside. I'll admit I was a little surprised that he was out and about this early. Tyree was a night owl and spent most of his day in bed. He took a seat on the couch and I moved in the recliner across from him. Since I was depressed I had needed something to cheer me up, so I had taken my last bit of money to get my hair and nails done, which meant the rent-to-own company wouldn't get their money this week for my living room furniture.
“Where're you on your way to?”
He gave me a stupid grin. “I got a job.”
“Hold up . . . a job? Since when do you work?” The last time I remember him working was flipping burger, and that lasted all of two days.
“Yeah, I'm working at the Heinz plant in the packaging division.”
“Okay, hold up . . . let's back this up a moment. You telling me you're punching the clock? Since when?
“For about three weeks now,” he replied with that same ridiculous smile on his face.
“Ain't that a bitch.”
He chuckled at my reaction. “My supervisor made me a lead last night.”
“You mean to tell me you're doing the damn thang?”
He shrugged like it was no big deal, but I could tell he was proud. “I figured it was time for me to get myself together if I was going to be a good father.”
“I'm happy for you.” And I was. “Does that mean I'll be getting my money on time now?”
“Yep, I get paid every week.” He reached inside his pocket and pulled out a couple of hundred and sat them on the table that unknowingly he just saved from being repossessed. “I also want to prove to you that I can be a good man to you, too.” He rose and moved beside me and took a seat. “Candy . . . I still love you. Hell, I never stopped and I would like a chance to show you. What you think about us getting married and doing it right this time?”
“Married?” I looked over at him. For years I had waited for this moment, but he was too busy hanging in them streets. There was a time when I could have laid down butt naked in the middle of the road and declared my love to him. Tyree was still just as good-looking and was Miasha's father, but he wasn't Chauncey and that's what hurt. I loved that man and even though he played me, I wasn't ready yet to move on. “I don't know, Tyree.”
The stern set of his lips said he wasn't ready to take no for an answer. “You don't have to say anything just yet, but think about it.”
I nodded. “Okay, I'll think about it, but I won't promise anything.” I don't know why I was hesitant. It wasn't like Chauncey and I were getting back together. Tyree was my daughter's father and if anything, Miasha deserved to have both her parents in her life. At least I knew what I had with Tyree. He smoked too many cigarettes and hung out too damn much with his boys, but it definitely beat a blank.
“I better get out of here so I won't be late for work.”
“Damn, who would have ever guessed you would be saying those words?” We both had to laugh at that. He rose and I followed him to the door. “Thanks for the money, Tyree.”
He swung around. “Anytime.”
Next thing I knew he was kissing me. I opened my mouth and memories of our time together came flooding back, but then I found myself comparing his techniques to Chauncey's. Tyree didn't even come close, and that was enough to make me wanna scream. I pulled back.
“I'll talk to you later,” he said with a confident smile, then headed down the stairs and out the door, leaving me with something to seriously consider.

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