A Love of My Own (23 page)

18
__________________

Basil made it to my apartment in record time. Fifteen minutes after I called him and told him I had some great news for him, he was knocking on my door, sweating like he had just finished a grueling workout.

“Come on in, Basil,” I said as I opened the door.

“Ray, what's going on? Did you find my baby girl?”

“Calm down, Basil. I just wanted to give you the information in person. Davis located Rosa and Talley in Atlanta. They're both fine from the looks of the pictures,” I said as I walked over to my desk and picked up the envelope Davis had sent to my office.

I handed the package to Basil. I'd mentioned Basil's problem to Davis and he mumbled, “Women can be so damn stupid,” and then asked if he could do anything. I gave him the information on Rosa that Basil had given me and Davis said he would take care of it. He said it with such confidence that I had no doubt he would find Rosa and Talley even if they left the country. Still, I didn't mention it to Basil because I didn't want him to get his hopes up.

“What's this?”

“Look inside.”

Basil pulled the materials out of the envelope, and I didn't know if he was going to break down crying or do one of those silly end-zone dances football players used to do with too much frequency. It was hard to read his face. I couldn't tell if he was happy or still angry at Rosa for taking Talley.

“There's my little girl. She's safe,” Basil said. I could tell he was fighting back tears.

“Are you all right?”

“I'm cool. I am heading to Atlanta first thing. What time is it?” Basil asked as he looked at his watch. It was a little after nine.

“I think it might be too late tonight,” I said.

“Not if I start driving right now,” Basil said.

“Are you serious?”

Basil grabbed me by the shoulders and said, “You don't understand. I've got to hold my little girl in my arms. I haven't been able to sleep since she left.”

“Then that's reason enough for you to wait until morning. You might fall asleep behind the wheel,” I said.

“Then come with me,” Basil pleaded.

“Man, I want to help out, but I have a job,” I said.

“I know I'm talking crazy. But I just can't sit around doing nothing,” Basil said.

“Go home and get some sleep and then get up and catch the first flight to Atlanta. Inside the envelope there is also the name of an attorney Davis recommended who will help you with getting some type of joint-custody agreement. She's supposed to be the best in the business. Make sure you tell her Davis McClinton suggested you call, or else you won't have a chance in hell of her taking your case,” I said.

“Ray, I'll never be able to thank you,” Basil said.

“Yes, you can,” I said.

“How?”

“Think everything out. Don't go down there half-cocked. Be safe.”

“That's important to you?”

“You're important to me, Basil. So can you make me that promise?”

“I promise,” Basil said. Before I could say anything, Basil moved closer to me and wrapped his large arms around my shoulders. We were so close that I felt his sweet breath blowing against my face like a fine mist, and then Basil kissed me. I mean, he really kissed me, like he had never done before. I was still silent when he walked toward the door, opened it and winked at me and said, “Ray, if I could ever totally love another man, it would be you. And that's the truth. You feel me?”

I blinked my eyes and said, “I feel you.”

19
__________________

When I looked out of my window and down onto the streets, it looked as though New York was moving fast again. Shadows of its old self. It had been a gloomy day, but now a thread of sunlight broke through the sky.

“Looks like somebody has been real good,” Cyndi said as she walked into my office carrying a vase of beautiful and exotic blooms.

I turned, smiled and said, “Put them on the coffee table.”

“Do you want me to read the card?” Cyndi asked.

“No, I know who they're from.” I gazed at the flowers and knew the arrangement was from Davis, sent from my favorite florist, the Daily Blossom.

“Do you need anything else?” Cyndi asked.

“Can you have travel check flights from New York to Nashville on Thanksgiving Day?”

“You're going home?”

“I'm thinking about it,” I said.

“I want to, but I'm still scared to get on a plane,” Cyndi said.

“I haven't made up my mind. See what's available in the morning with a return for Saturday,” I said.

“I'll check on it. Oh, yeah, Kai called.”

“Did she say where she was?”

“No. She said reach her on her celly,” Cyndi said.

I walked to my desk, picked up the phone and dialed Kai's number. She answered after a couple of rings.

“Hello.”

“Kai, this is Zola. What's going on?”

“Hey, Zola. I'm up on the East Side, looking at some fabric and wall coverings. I decided to redo my guest bedroom.”

“That sounds like fun. Cyndi said you called.”

“Yeah, I wanted to know if you had plans for Thanksgiving. My parents are coming down and I invited Hayden,” Kai said.

“Funny you should ask. I was just thinking about going home for Thanksgiving,” I said.

“Oh, that sounds like fun. I bet your mother and father are excited,” Kai said.

“I haven't mentioned it to them. If I go, I want to surprise them,” I said.

“I know they'll be so happy. Let me know if you decide to hang around. I'm even thinking about trying to roast the turkey myself instead of ordering one.”

“Now, that's tempting, just to see you in the kitchen,” I said, laughing.

“Do you think I should invite Justine?”

“Why not? She probably won't come,” I said.

“Maybe Hayden and I will go over and kidnap her.”

“Girl, you're crazy. What are you doing tonight?”

“I might have a date.”

“Might?”

“Yeah, I met this rapper last night, but I don't think he's wrapped too tight,” Kai said.

“Oh,” I said.

“Here comes the salesperson. Talk with you later,” Kai said.

“Good-bye.”

Thanksgiving was a week away, and this year I felt I had a lot to be thankful for. My life, family and good friends. I thought about Justine, and an unexpected loneliness gathered inside me. I found myself picking up the phone and dialing her number.

After a couple of rings the answering machine clicked on and I heard Justine's voice say, “For in the time of trouble He shall hide me in his pavilion; in the secret of His tabernacle shall He hide me; He shall set me upon a rock.” When the machine beeped for me to leave a message, I hung up.

I realized I needed to go home and get away from New York. I missed my parents and Nashville. I wanted to feel my mother's powder-soft hands and see the loving smile on her beautiful, finely wrinkled face. I longed to hear my father's laughter and smell the combination of his cologne and hair.

I wanted to visit the campus at Tennessee State and see golden and crimson leaves being swept across the student union by a brisk wind. I wanted to get a fish sandwich from Ed's Fish and have a miniature cheeseburger from Krystal's.

As I thought about what I needed, I felt tears forming in my eyes again. I tried to blink the wetness away, but I realized that tears were like memories, and I was ready to face the ones I'd left behind, the good and the bad. I needed to feel like I belonged, that I was truly loved. So even if it meant dealing with Pamela and my other secret demons, I had to go home.

20
__________________

Zola walked into my office with a huge smile on her face, carrying some large photographs, looking like a fashionista dressed in a fire-engine-red sleeveless dress that looked beautiful against her skin, which was the darkest shade of cinnamon brown. Her hair was pulled back in a tight bun and she was wearing gold hoop earrings.

“Raymond, you got a minute? I've got something I want you to see,” Zola said.

“Sure,” I said as I stood and met her in front of my desk.

“Look at this. I think this will sell a few magazines and calendars,” Zola said as she handed me some beautiful four-color photographs of one John Basil Henderson.

In one picture he was completely nude with the exception of some strategically placed black underwear he was holding in front of his jimmie. He had a sexy and provocative grin, a Basil trademark.

In another he was wearing a white dress shirt open to his navel, and his body looked like it was glistening with a golden sweat. A slight uncontrollable smile came over my face, and Zola noticed. I was thinking how I missed Basil and wondering if he would ever return to New York. In the pictures he looked like he didn't have a care in the world, no concern about his little girl or his health. I wondered if I had made the right decision by not mentioning the strange phone call I had received from some woman implying that Basil was HIV positive.

“I guess you like them,” she said.

“They look all right . . . I'm lying, they look great. What are you going to do with these?” I asked.

“They're for
Bling Bling
's
Sexiest Brothaman Alive contest. I know Basil will make the finals. He might even win. What's he like?”

“Who?”

“Basil Henderson. You've known him for some time, right?”

“Yes, we've been friends for a long time. Basil's a great guy,” I said as I tried to keep from glancing back at the photos. While Zola was talking about all the excitement and interest the contest was generating for the magazine, I was thinking about Basil and his body. I remembered every nuance of it, the broad shoulders, the ripples on his stomach and that magnificent ass, still the best one I've ever seen in my life.

“Is he married?”

“Who?”

“Basil.”

“No. He's got a little girl,” I said.

“Oh, so he really is a baby daddy,” Zola said, laughing.

“How are ad sales going? I haven't seen this month's advertising revenues,” I said.

“I'm really pleased; we're actually up five percent. That's great, because some of the magazines with large circulations are having big loss problems. I even heard that
Talk
magazine might be going under. I think this contest is really going to help not only with circulation but by bringing in companies that might want to clothe our winner,” Zola said.

“So who's going to decide who wins the contest?” I asked.

“We're going to let the readers think they're picking the winner, but if truth be told, I plan to do a little informal poll around the office and pick the winner that way,” Zola said.

“I would think about that,” I said.

“Why?”

“You can't advertise voting procedures one way in a magazine and then do it another way. That's deceptive advertising, and if anybody found out about it,
Bling Bling
could be in big trouble,” I said.

“Oh, I didn't think of that,” Zola said as she used her index finger and touched her full lips that were covered in a dark wine-colored lipstick.

“That's why you have me around,” I said.

Zola glanced at me and smiled as she picked up Basil's photos and headed toward the door. Before she walked out, she turned and said, “Thanks for the legal advice and the baby daddy.”

“No problem. Hey, Zola,” I said.

She stopped her stride and turned around and said, “Yes.”

“What are you doing for Thanksgiving?” I asked.

“I'm going home to Nashville,” Zola said.

“That's great.”

“What are you doing?”

“I don't know. My little bro is playing football; my parents are going on a cruise. It looks like I'm going to be solo,” I said, trying not to sound like I felt sorry for myself even though I did.

“What's Basil doing?” Zola asked.

I thought the question was strange, but I told her he was in Atlanta.

“Then that's why we haven't gotten the signed release from him. Will you mention it to him if you speak with him?” Zola asked.

“Sure.”

“You know, Raymond, one of my girlfriends is cooking a big dinner and having some family and friends over. Hayden will be there, and if you'd like, I could get you an invitation,” Zola said.

“Thanks, Zola, but I don't want to intrude,” I said.

“Kai would love to have you,” Zola assured me.

“I'll think about it, then let you know. When are you leaving?”

“Thanksgiving morning,” Zola said.

“I'll let you know by Tuesday,” I said.

“Please think about it, because I don't want you to spend the holidays alone.”

“Thanks, Zola. I will.”

21
__________________

Thanksgiving morning was one of those clear and cool days between fall and winter that made me happy I was going home. I couldn't wait to walk in the rambling Victorian house I grew up in and smell my mother's cornbread dressing and sweet potato pies. I could see the large smile on her face when she saw me, and the tears that would fall while she scolded me for not telling her I was coming home.

The airport wasn't the madhouse I'd expected. When I reached the ticket counter the agent with a pleasant smile looked at me and asked, “Are you the Zola Norwood who runs
Bling Bling
magazine?”

“Yes, that's me,” I said proudly.

“Girl, I love that magazine. Every month I can't wait till it hits the newsstands,” she said.

“You don't have a subscription, Trulissa?” I asked as I noticed her name tag and thought if Trulissa and I made a sister-girl connection, I might get an upgrade to first class and Trulissa might get a year's subscription to the magazine.

“Naw. I still live at home and my younger brother always steals my magazines so he can use them for his little private bathroom visits. He just learned what he can do with his hands, his thang and a magazine with pretty girls in it,” she said, laughing.

I tried to manage a smile, although I didn't know what the young man could be doing with
Bling Bling,
unless it was our annual swimsuit issue.

“Do you have a card, Trulissa? I'd like to send you a free subscription,” I said.

“Oh, that's so nice of you!”

“How does first class look for upgrades?” I asked without missing a beat.

“Zola, girl, you're reading my mind. I'm trying to see what I can do.”

“Thank you,” I said.

“So, are you from Nashville?” Trulissa asked as she rapidly hit the computer keys.

“Yeah, I am.”

“I almost went to Fisk University.”

“It's a great school. I went to Tennessee State myself.”

“I ended up at City University,” she said.

“That's a good school as well,” I said.

“I guess so. Hey, who's going to win that contest you guys are having?”

“Are you talking about our Sexiest Brothaman Alive contest?”

“Yes. I started to enter my boyfriend because he sure is fine, but then he pissed me off,” Trulissa said.

“It's not too late,” I said, looking at my watch, hoping Trulissa would get the hint, but she didn't seem to notice as she continued to talk and type.

I had intended to carry my garment bag on board, but after being asked to show my ticket and identification three times before I went through security, I was told that I couldn't carry three bags on board no matter how small they were. All passengers were allowed two carry-ons, and that included my purse.

I didn't want to check my computer or my pocketbook, so I had to release my garment bag, which carried one good dress and a nice pantsuit just in case I ran into one of my girls from my college days who wanted to hang out during the short time I was going to be in town.

Trulissa wasn't able to upgrade my seat, but she did manage an empty row of three seats, so I took a blanket and pillow and slept for most of the three-hour flight.

After we landed, I pulled my purse from under the seat and checked my makeup in a small compact. I don't know why, but I started to think about Davis and the Thanksgiving he and Veronica were sharing, and I bet it would be reminiscent of an
O
magazine layout. I could see the long table filled with all kinds of delicacies and wondered if I would ever plan a holiday meal for a husband and children. It wasn't that I had ever expected those things from Davis. He had been quite clear when we met that he could never offer me marriage but he could give me a magazine. Since 9/11 I was beginning to realize that there was more to life than a career.

While I was waiting for my luggage I heard the murmur of a male voice saying, “You don't know how much I love you and missed you.” I hoped for a minute that I was tripping. I knew I had been working hard, and the mind could be as tricky as a magic act. At least that's what I told myself.

I slowly turned around to see where the voice was coming from, and when I did, my worst fears were realized about returning home. My body suddenly felt tight with tension and I looked away before our eyes made contact. I saw my bag coming on the luggage carousel and quickly grabbed it and ran toward the automatic doors. When the wind hit me, I realized tears were rolling down my face, and I knew I couldn't go home that way. Layer upon layer of bad memories clouded my mind, and instead of getting in a taxi, I went back inside the airport to the ticket counter.

The lines were short and I found myself standing in front of a pretty Asian woman who asked if she could help me.

“What time is the next flight to New York?” I asked.

She hit a few keys on her computer keyboard and said, “There's a flight that leaves in about forty-five minutes. Are you going home for the holidays?”

“No, I mean yes,” I said quickly as I passed her my round-trip ticket.

“Lucky you. I have to work all day,” she said.

“Yeah, lucky me,” I said as I wiped away fresh tears.