An Inconvenient Friend (18 page)

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Authors: Rhonda McKnight

BOOK: An Inconvenient Friend
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I didn't move. I was afraid to. Mekhi used his free hand to sweep my hair from over my ear and whispered, “I still love you, Sammie.”
I looked at him over my shoulder. My eyes fell on his lips. He licked them, and I turned my head. “You don't even know me anymore.”
Mekhi hesitated for a moment, like he was considering my words. Then he chuckled. “Girl, what you talking 'bout? You ain't changed.” His laugh came harder. “'Cept your name. Rae Burns.”
I countered his playfulness by throwing an elbow in his gut, then I stepped through the door. It didn't close behind me, so I knew he was watching me as I made my way down the hall. I could still feel the heat of Mekhi's gaze clinging to my body as I approached my car. I looked up and found that he was indeed at his window. I climbed in the vehicle, turned on the engine, and threw my head back on the head rest. I'd come that close to letting Mekhi touch me. And it wasn't just because he was fine, and he was offering to bail me out of my mess. Mekhi had said he loved me. He'd been the only man in my life to ever tell me that. I needed to hear those words because my world was unraveling, or at least it felt like it might at any moment. Was he being honest? The voice inside my heart said he was, but I couldn't escape the memory in my head.
Slam! The bars opened and closed all day. I was glad they were closing behind me this time. I had a visitor. I had no idea who. My mom, one of my cousins, or Mekhi. I was praying it was him. He was the only person I wanted to see, but when I entered the main visiting room I saw my cousin, June, sitting at one of the small tables.
“Where's Khi?” I asked, sliding onto the bench across from him.
June scanned me from head to toe. “Girl, you look a mess.”
“June, Khi. What's going on? Why hasn't he been here? Is he locked up?”
June hesitated for a moment and said, “Ain't nobody seen Mekhi. I talked to Wang today, and he told me his brother was in Florida.”
I slammed my palms on the table. Caught the eye of a grumpy guard and recomposed myself. “Wang said he scared or something. His mother got him hiding out until this thing is over.”
“Until it's over. I got a public lawyer, June. I need Mekhi to get up here and get me a decent lawyer.”
June sat back and crossed his arms over his chest. “Look, I'm the messenger. Ya' moms asked me to let you know what was going on. Mekhi is gone. You need to try to work this out yourself.”
I shook my head. I had worked it out for myself, or rather I'd gotten lucky. The county was piloting a new pre-trial intervention program for first offenders under age twenty-one. I was perfect for it. All I had to do was keep my nose clean for five years, and I wouldn't have to go to jail. I wouldn't even have a record. I'd done that for all these years, but I continued to hold the contempt I felt for Mekhi in my heart.
“
I still love you, Sammie
.” I could still feel his warm breath on my neck. I fought hard to not hear those words, to not feel his heat, to not want them both. I didn't want my lifeline to be Mekhi, but just like he'd been the raft I needed to survive the last time, he'd somehow become it again. I started the engine and prayed this time, he wouldn't let me drown.
Chapter 33
Angelina pushed herself. Her muscles strained under the pressure of the incline on her Stairmaster. Sweat trickled down her face and back. She looked at the calorie counter and for all she'd done, she'd only burned about two hundred fifty. She became disgusted with the entire workout. It was so much like everything else in her life. Like her marriage. She was putting in a ton of work, exerting a bunch of energy and getting nowhere. She pushed the button and let the machine come to a stop. There was no point in continuing to put off the inevitable. There was a decision to make. Did she continue to pray and wait for Greg to come around, or did she leave him?
She stepped off the machine, used a towel to wipe her perspiration, and exited the home gym. She needed to talk to Felesia. She picked up the phone, hoping she could get Felesia before she started work. Caracas was only forty minutes behind Eastern Standard Time, and Felesia might still be in her hotel room. She knew her friend wasn't a breakfast eater.
The phone rang a few times and went to voice mail. Angelina didn't want to leave a message about the real reason she was calling because that would be too depressing for anyone to receive on the other end. She pretended she was calling to follow-up on the message Felesia had left her the other day about the change in her flight home. “Hey, Fee. I wanted to let you know that I received your message. Just call me when you get home. I miss you, girl. Can't wait to see you.” Angelina smiled and ended the call.
The phone rang as soon as she placed it on the base. She was hoping it was Felesia calling her back, but she had a feeling it was the one other person who would call her at this hour. God help her, the one person on the earth she was not in the mood to speak to; her mother. She entered the kitchen, picked up the extension, and said hello.
The chatter began about some stuff Angelina did not care about. “I ran into one of your classmates at church. You're going to get an invitation to your high school reunion,” her mother said. “Won't that be nice?”
She moved past the fact that her mother hadn't greeted her. Hadn't asked her how she was doing.
“You get to come and show everybody how successful you are.”
Angelina shrugged off the depression that was invading her soul. Just moments before the phone rang, she had been deciding if she were going to submit to what would be the biggest failure of her adult life—a failed marriage—so she wasn't feeling like a success. She tuned her mother out and continued to think about where she was in her life.
People had harder decisions to make. People were choosing between life and death things like chemo and radiation. The president was deciding if we went to war or continued to negotiate with our foreign enemies. Being an adult was tough, and decisions were hard. Greg and she simply weren't on the same page. She was not going to sacrifice having children because he was prideful or he was scared. That was the problem with him being backslidden. When the tough choices had to be made, that really needed to be thought about from a spiritual perspective, Greg checked out on her. Maybe it was time for her to check out on him.
“Angelina, did you hear what I said about your reunion?” Her mother raised her voice.
“Yes, you said I was getting an invitation.”
“I said that when you first answered the phone. I told you they're holding it at The Breakers in Spring Lake. It's going to be fancy.”
Angelina washed her hands and started the coffeemaker. Still listening to her mother's chatter, she went back through the front of the house, turned off the alarm, and stepped outside for the morning papers. When she stepped back in, Greg was descending the stairs. She met him at the bottom, and he kissed her on the lips. “Tell your mother good morning,” he whispered and removed the
Wall Street Journal
from her hand.
“Is that Greg?” her mother asked.
“What other man would it be at this hour, Mom?” Angelina shook her head.
“Let me let you talk to your husband. You know I told you not to be on the phone when you're husband is around.”
Angelina nodded. “Yes, you did, Mom, but you called me, remember?”
“I remember. I'm not senile. Call me later. I have to tell you about my neighbor. She got a collagen injection in her lips and she looks like a cartoon character.”
Angelina laughed, promised her mother she'd call later, and pushed the OFF button.
When she entered the kitchen she found Greg pouring coffee into a mug. He took a seat in front of his breakfast bowl, and Angelina dutifully poured cereal and milk in. “Do you want an egg?”
He looked up from his paper. “No, this is fine.”
“You'd be better off with some protein in the morning.”
“I'd be better off if I could lose this five pounds around my gut,” he responded. “You spend an hour on that Stairmaster every day. I've gotta keep the younger men away from my wife.”
Angelina poured a cup of coffee and took a seat across from him. She supposed he was trying to flatter her. She wanted to tell him that the only reason she'd be looking at a younger man, or any man, was because he could or would get her pregnant, but she snapped open the
Roswell Weekly
and began to peruse the pages while she waited for her coffee to cool. She was flipping through it so quickly that she almost missed the story; a write up about the health fair and a picture of her and Rae. She smiled and stretched the paper across the table to Greg. “Honey, look.”
Greg took a few seconds to pull himself from the financials, grunted a bit, and accepted the paper. “What is—” he started.
“It's our health fair.” She proudly raised the coffee mug to her lips.
Greg stared at the paper. For a moment he looked confused, and then he looked bothered. “Who—who is the woman next to you?” The words came out like someone had tazered his tongue.
“It's Rae, Rae Burns. The woman at the church. I've mentioned her to you a few times. She was helping me with the health fair.”
Greg stood to his feet. “Rae?”
“Yes.” Angelina knew she'd mentioned Rae's name a number of times over the last few weeks. “She's my new mentee.”
Greg looked funny. She couldn't put her finger on it, but she would swear he was suddenly ill. “I have to go.”
Angelina stood. “What's wrong?”
“What do you mean?” Greg asked nervously.
“You look funny, and you haven't touched your cereal.”
“I'll grab something later.”
“Why would you grab something later when you have something in front of you?”
“Because I have a long surgery this morning. I shouldn't have milk. It's been getting to me lately.” He looked back at the paper. “I might be getting lactose sensitive.”
“That's new.” Angelina was mystified. The man ate bran flakes every morning.
He folded the
Weekly
under his arm. “I'll read this article later.”
She nodded. He was acting strange. Real strange, and then something occurred to her. “Do you know Rae?” Angelina asked, crossing her arms.
Greg stuck his neck out. “What?”
“Rae, the woman in the picture. She's a nurse. Maybe you've worked with her.”
Greg snatched back his head. “No. No. I don't think so. I was noticing in the picture how much she looks like you.”
“Really?” Angelina pulled the paper from under his arm, unfolded it, and took another look at the picture. Rae and she were standing close. She was smiling, but Rae wasn't. She'd remembered how nervous she'd been when the photographer snapped the picture, said she was camera shy, which didn't fit in with the woman's personality at all. “Hmmm,” Angelina mused. Now that she was looking, she could see some resemblance. Bone structure—the shape of their eyes. They did look alike. “You're right. We do favor a bit.” She handed the paper back to him. “Are you sure you don't want me to cook you something?”
“I've got to go.” Greg folded the paper and leaned in close to her. Instead of giving the customary peck on the lips, he kissed her deeply, took her breath away really, and then gave her a hug. She followed him out of the kitchen and to the front door like a whoop puppy. One kiss, and she was already reconsidering her early lament about leaving him.
Suddenly he turned around. That weird look still on his face. “What are you doing today? After work?”
Angelina was caught off guard. He surprised her with that question. She couldn't remember the last time he'd asked her that. “Uh, nothing until Bible Study.”
“Let's have dinner. I want to make up for last week.”
She shook her head. “It's my Bible Study night.”
“Please. I—we should talk.”
Greg looked so serious she thought no way could she pass it up, but she hated that he was being so discourteous when he knew it was Wednesday. “I'm teaching.”
“Lena. Tonight. We need to talk tonight.” He was so firm that she wondered what had come over him.
“Have you thought about what I—”
He cut her off and raised a hand. “I'm thinking about a lot of things. I'd like us to have a nice dinner, okay?” He kissed her again. Not as lingering as the last time, but not a peck. “I love you. Please call me when you're on the way home, and I'll meet you for dinner.”
Angelina nodded. He walked out the door. She turned the lock and let her body fall against it.
I love you? Dinner in the middle of the week?
He
had
been thinking about her. Thinking about them. One moment he'd shut her out with the
Wall Street Journal
, and the next he was kissing her like they were still in college. She made the slow climb up the stairs to get dressed for her meeting and prayed the passion he'd felt toward her wouldn't wane with the passing of the day.

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