Until My Heart Stops Beating (21 page)

              The tone in her voice was angry. He could feel it. Not understanding why her anger and frustration was directed at him, he held her wrist and swung her around to face him. He was terribly disappointed when she didn’t respond. Her eyes went as far as the middle of his chest. “Look at me Makeba.”

              She refused to reply to his demands. Snatching her arm away, she turned away
from him and resumed cooking. Annoyed, he grabbed her again, this time holding tight to both hands. “If there is something you need to say to me then I suggest you say it right now and get it over with. Let’s not do this.”

              She turned the fire off the stove and attempted to leave the kitchen but he stood in front of her blocking the path.

              “Move please.”

              “Not until you tell me what’s on your mind.”

              She went around him leaving him standing in the middle of the kitchen alone, worried, angry and confused.

              For hours, Makeba had been giving Declan the silent treatment and he had no clue why. Getting to the bottom of it was his mission.
Did she blame him for the loss of their child? She couldn’t possibly, he thought
.

              Not willing to accept anything other than the truth, he stormed into the bedroom demanding answers. “What is your problem?”

              “I just want to be left alone,” she replied glaring at him.

              “I can’t do that.”

              “It’s an easy thing to do. Just go away.”

              “You know this didn’t only happen to you, it happened to me as well.”

              Rolling her eyes, she attempted to leave again but he stopped her. “What do you want from me Makeba?”

              “You know what I want Declan?”     

              “Yes!"

              “More of you. I want more of you.”

              The words she spoke pierced
his heart like an arrow. “Makeba, everything will be better soon. I promise.”

      “Same old promises, different day. It was probably stressing over you that caused this miscarriage.”

              “Oh no, don’t do that. Don’t make me at fault for this. You heard the doctor. This is just something that happens.”

              “Whatever!” she walked away.

              “Yea, that’s right, run away. You’re getting real good at that.”

              “To hell with you.”

              Fed up, Declan held up his hands in surrender while walking backwards exiting the room.

              A few moments later, he turned on his heels, got his coat out of the closet and left. With no destination in mind, he strutted down Broad Street thinking he didn’t think this through. In his angry, hastily, he went out into the cold. It was so cold outside that when he inhaled the coldness got caught in his throat almost cutting off
his breath. Pulling his collar up to shield his neck from the frigid temperature, he continued to walk as he glanced at the many people entering and exiting the many stores that lined the various blocks he passed. Stopping on Lafayette Street, he stopped inside the Blue Room Lounge. Removing his coat, throwing it over the back of the stool, he took a seat and ordered a double shot of Belvedere Vodka on the rocks. After the day he had, he deserved a drink or two. Hell, maybe the whole damn bottle.

ANYTHING FOR YOU

              Feeling guilty for the way she treated Declan, Makeba paced the floor wondering where he could have gone. Perhaps he went to inquire about his investment, or maybe he took a walk to clear his mind but that was over two hours ago. Glancing at her ringing phone which was on the sofa, she rushed towards it thinking it may be him. To her disappointment it was not. She answered. It was Rasheeda checking up on her. She assured her friend she was fine and wanted to lie down. She hated to lie, but she no desire to speak with anyone at that time but Declan. To get her off the phone quickly, she promised she would call her first thing in the morning. Rasheeda heard the disappointment and urgency in her voice and attributed it to what her friend was going through. She told Makeba to get some rest and not to forget to contact her in the morning. Makeba agreed and ended the call. Before she could put it away, her phone rang again. Just as before she had hoped it was Declan. Again, she was let down. It was her mother. She wanted so badly to let the call go to voicemail but thought better of it. She answered and tried hard not to sound so unpleasant.

      “Hello mama.”

      “Hey baby. How are you feeling?”

      “I’m doing fine.”

      “Are you sure?”

      “Yes mama. I was just about to go and lie down.”

      “Ok. Well, I won’t keep you then. I’ll call and check on you in the morning. I love you baby.”

      “I love you more mama. Goodnight.”

      “Goodnight baby.”

              Grateful it wasn’t a long drawn out conversation with her mom, Makeba ended the call and sadly wandered to the bedroom. While cradling her phone in her hand she walked over to the bed, pulled back the covers and crawled underneath them hoping she’d be able to stay up until Declan’s return. She owed him an apology. What happened to her was not his fault and he was right about something he said earlier, it didn’t only happen to her but it happened to him too. It didn’t take long before she was captured by the sandman. Sleep had consumed her no matter how hard she tried to fight it.

              Shifting from one side to the other, she opened her eyes. Running her hand over the other side of the bed, she realized she was still alone. Slowly crawling out of bed, she glanced at the cable box,  which read 1:15 am, approximately three hours past the time Declan walked out on her. Worried, she used her cell phone, which was on the bed to call him. Hearing the ringing of a phone coming from another area of the house, she hurried toward the sound, stopping the moment she observed him stretched out snoring on the sofa. Pressing the end call button, she ushered closer to him and began tapping his shoulders in an effort to wake him from his sleep. The stench of alcohol that filled the air was so strong it almost made her want to throw up. Unable to wake him, she grabbed a throw off the love seat and covered him with it then returned to bed able to sleep peacefully knowing he was home safe.

              The next morning, Makeba had showered and dressed early. Entering the living room, she noticed Declan was wide awake watching the morning news.

              “Good morning.”

              “Good morning,” he replied.

              As she headed for the closet to retrieve her coat he asked, “Where are you going?”

              “I need to go to Rite Aid to get a few things.”

              She put on her coat.

              Declan rose from the sofa.

              “No, I’ll go.”

              “I think its best I go but thank you.”

              “Makeba, it’s too early for you to do all you’re trying to do. I know you’re strong but let me take care of you. Please.”

              She couldn’t believe after the way she treated him last night, he was so eager to do something for her. The thought of this increased the amount of guilt she already felt, twofold.

              Gazing at him she said, “But you don’t even know what I’m going for.”

              He took a few steps closer to her.

              “Tell me what you need and I’ll go and get it.”

              Bashfully, she lowered her gaze as she began to run off a list of things she needed.

              “I need Always Overnights with wings, Vagisil vaginal cleanser and feminine wipes.”

              He shrugged. “Ok, let me get my jacket.”

              “You mean you don't mind going to pick up those things for me?”

              He frowned. “No, why should I? Don’t you know by now I would
do anything for you? Now where are your car keys?”

              “Right here,” she said handing them to him.

              Closing her eyes, she sighed. The best man she could ever ask for was standing right in front of her more than willing to buy her feminine products. Most men would cringe at the thought and look at you as if you had asked them to walk barefoot on hot coal.

              “You don’t care about what people will think?”

              “Sweetheart, the days for caring what others think of me are long gone. If I cared about their thoughts I would not have accomplished half as much as I have in my life.” He put on his coat. “I’ll be back shortly.”

              “Do you know what all this stuff looks like?”

              Stopping before pulling on the door handle to open it, he replied, “No, but I can read. I’m sure they won’t be hard to find.”

              She ran to him wrapping her arms around his neck mating her lips with his. Quickly, she pulled away. “Ew!”

              “I know. The sooner I get out of here the sooner I can return and clean myself up.” He leaned in kissing her on the cheek. “I’ll be back shortly.”

              “Thank you.”

              He smiled then left.

              Turning on her heels, Makeba went into the kitchen. The food she had tried to cook the previous day was still on the stove starting to smell. After running some dish water in the sink, she began to scrape the food from the pots discarding it in the garbage then placing them one by one into the hot soapy water. She began to wash and dry them as her mind reflected on all that had transpired in her life over the last twenty four hours. Shaking the thoughts from her mind, she decided to cook Declan a nice breakfast. It was her way of apologizing for the
behavior displayed towards him the previous night.

              Twenty minutes later she heard the door slam. Peeking out of the doorway of the kitchen she spotted him hanging his coat in the closet. “I’m back,” he yelled.

              “Breakfast will be ready by the time you get out of the shower.”

              Declan chuckled at her statement. It could only mean one thing, he wasn’t allowed to eat until he freshened up.

              “Can I at least bring you the bag?”

              “Yes,” she smiled.

              Approaching her, leaving quite a bit of distance between them, he handed her the bag. The stench of alcohol and stale cigarette smoke from bar patrons from the previous night clung to him. The actual number of drinks he devoured last night was unknown. The counting ended once he consumed the third round. Reaching out for the bag then suddenly retracting her hand, Makeba realized it made more sense to have him take the bag with him. 

              “Can you please put it under the sink in bathroom?”

              “Yes babe.”

              Turning on their heels they parted ways going in separate directions.    

              As Makeba resumed cooking the
doorbell rang. Considering the circumstances of what had happened to her a day earlier, she knew it was only a matter of time that family and friends showed up on her doorstep to check up on her. Drying her hands on the dish towel then throwing it up on the counter, she headed toward the door. Pressing the intercom she asked who it was. A smile spread across her lips the moment the name of her visitor was announced. Immediately pressing the button to release the lock on the entrance door, she unlocked the door to her apartment leaving it slightly ajar as she returned to the kitchen.

              “What in the world do you think you’re doing?”

              Looking over her shoulders startled by the tone of the words that had just been spoken. “I’m fixing breakfast mom. Would you like to join us?”

              “Where’s Declan and why are you fixing breakfast when you should be in bed?”

              “Declan’s in the shower and I feel perfectly fine.”

              Closing the gap between them, Mrs. Jones approached her. “You’re not fine. You just experienced a traumatic ordeal. You should be resting.” Lightly, she guided Makeba toward the door. “I’ll take over from here. Go lie down.”

              “Mom.”

              “Do as you’re told!”

              Makeba pouted as she passed Declan while exiting the kitchen. Nothing burned her up more than seeing a smirk plastered on his face. Sucking her teeth she moved towards the bedroom and got in bed as she was told. She could hear her mother fussing with Declan about preventing her from doing too much too fast. Now it was her time to wear a smirk. He was like a witness being questioned by the prosecutor. He stated his case and won the argument once he told her the many attempts he’d made at getting me to relax. Since the food was already done the only thing Mrs. Jones had to do was plate it. It wasn’t long before Declan entered the room with a serving tray. Although he made an effort, he couldn’t hide the smile on his face.

              “It’s not funny.”

              “Yes it is honey. It was so cute watching you retreat into a scolded little girl when your mom sent you out of the kitchen.”

      Rolling her eyes, she turned her attention to the food on the tray. She very seldom made freshly squeezed orange juice. Tropicana was her best friend but not her mama’s. There was always freshly squeezed orange juice for breakfast in the Jones household and
freshly brewed coffee. Inhaling the aroma that filled the atmosphere made her forget about feeling scolded by her mom earlier.

              Fluffing her pillows against the headboard, she adjusted herself until her back was resting comfortably against them. Gently, Declan lowered the tray over her lap.

              “Enjoy!”

              Frowning while looking up at him inquisitively she asked, “You’re not staying?”

              “No. I have a few things to do.”

              She sighed holding her head to the side.

              “Relax honey. I’m working from home. I’ll be right on the sofa if you need me. Besides, your mom said she’ll be here for a few hours.”

              “Ok, good.”

              He started to walk away but stopped suddenly before exiting.

              “Hey, babe.”

              “Yes, she answered just as she picked up her fork.

              “I’m going to return to Chicago next weekend. I’d like it very much if you would accompany me. It’s time for you to meet my extended family. You know, the cousins, aunts and uncles.”

              Makeba dropped the fork. The feeling of uncertainty crept in. She wanted to meet the rest of his family but wasn’t sure how she would be received. As of yet, he hadn’t mentioned whether he told other family members he was dating someone of another race and that bothered her a great deal.

              “Declan, have you forgotten what happened the last time I went to Chicago with you? Your mom was
not happy about you dating a black woman?”

              “Makeba, that’s her issue not ours.”

              “That’s the ideal babe but not the real deal. We have to be realistic. They may not as accepting as you want them to be and they may never be.”

              He sighed as he approached the bed, taking a seat beside her.

              “Who cares? This is about you and I.”

              “Come home with me, please.”

              Feeling a little hesitant, she agreed, it was time but as much as she would like to have been as confident about things as Declan, she couldn’t. Her father and his friend, Adam, showed her just how narrow minded some people can be about interracial relationships, not to mention his mother, but the one person who really influenced her decision to go back was granny.

              “Ok Declan.”

              Joyfully, he kissed her on the forehead.
“Thanks babe.”             

              “You’re welcome,” she replied as she resumed eating.

              “Hey, he said as he rose from the bed,” Have you started planning for the wedding?”

              “No.”

              “Don’t you think it’s time?”

              “We haven’t even agreed on a date
yet.”

              “Honey, I don’t care if you put up a calendar on the wall, threw a dart at it and picked whatever date it landed on, as long as you’re waiting for me at the altar. Pick a date!”