Breaking All My Rules (30 page)

Chapter 46

J
erome knew his ears were working properly, but he felt as though his mind was stuck in quicksand, sinking with each detail he learned from his father. He knew that Parnell had led a wild, irresponsible life in his younger days, and that he'd been in and out of jail for petty crimes before abandoning the family, but he never imagined that his father had served seven years in prison for breaking and entering and attempted murder.

That the crime had been perpetrated against Erica's family was a hard blow to take, and worse still, the fact that he'd had an affair with Erica's mother was almost too much to handle. It was also more than Mabel wanted to deal with at the moment, so she'd gone into the kitchen and busied herself by covering all the untouched food that Erica had left out on the counter.

Talking with his father one-on-one, Jerome sat in disbelief as Parnell described the way he and Reene had met—seeing each other by chance and connecting right away. Her beauty and their natural chemistry had captivated him, and whether it was love or his addictive personality, he couldn't bring himself to stay away from her. A passionate romance quickly ensued but then spiraled out of control.

The rest of the story unfolded like a movie, only it was real life. Real people were hurt, and lives were scarred. Jerome thought about the nightmares Erica had struggled against all her life, and he felt a sorrow in the bottom of his stomach that unsettled him, knowing her misery was at the hands of his father.

Parnell hung his head low. “I've spent so many years trying to make up for the terrible things I did in my past, but I guess it's true that you can't outrun your secrets. They always come back to haunt you. I never wanted my sins to burden you, and I'm so sorry they have.”

“This is . . .” Jerome paused, trying to articulate his jumbled thoughts. “I don't know what to say to Erica. I can't imagine what she's feeling right now.” He looked up when he heard footsteps on the stairs, which came to a stop. He stood and went over to Erica, cradling her in his arms, hugging her close to his body as he stroked her back. “Baby, I'm so sorry. Are you okay?”

“I don't know,” she whispered in a low voice. “This is a really bad situation.”

“Seems like every time we get past one problem, another one pops up.”

“This is a big one.”

Jerome took a deep breath. “I know. But we can get through it.”

Erica looked past his shoulder in the direction of where Parnell was sitting on the couch and cringed. She stared at him for a long stretch of time. Her body stiffened, and she moved away from Jerome's firm hold. “Maybe this is a sign.”

“What do you mean?”

“It shouldn't be this hard,” Erica said through weary eyes. “Loving someone, having a relationship, it shouldn't be this damn difficult. Every time we turn around, something pops up that prevents us from having peace. We keep ignoring the signs while they beat us over our heads.”

“Erica, I know this is an awful situation, but—”

“This is too much for me to deal with right now. I need some time and space.”

Jerome looked into Erica's eyes. “Baby, we can get through this, like we always do.”

“Your father is the man who attacked my father and turned my whole world upside down. I've had nightmares that he'd come for me since I was ten. I can't be in the same room with him right now.” She backed away. “I think you and your parents need to leave.”

 

 

Jerome called his mother on her cell phone to make sure she and his father had arrived home safely after the traumatic Thanksgiving dinner that never was. He felt relief wash over his body when Mabel told him that they were okay and had settled in for the evening. Next, he called Jamel to see how his dinner at Kelisha's aunt's house had turned out.

“Everything's cool, Dad. I'm gonna spend the night here at Aunt Deena's and hang out with Pooch,” Jamel said, referring to the nickname the family had given his cousin Dale.

“Okay. I'm glad you're having a good time, son.”

“How're things going over at Erica's? Did she throw down on the food?”

“Things went all right,” Jerome lied.

“Dad, are you okay? You don't sound so hot.”

“I'm fine. Just tired. Getting ready to head home and call it a night.”

He and Jamel talked a few minutes longer before they ended their call. As Jerome steered his truck toward his apartment, he called Erica again, but all he got was her voice mail. This was his seventh attempt in less than an hour, and it was clear that she didn't want to speak to him. She'd never ignored him like this, and the fact that she couldn't bring herself to communicate with him made the sorrow he'd felt in his stomach earlier rumble even more.

“Out of all the women to screw and the houses to rob!” Jerome lamented about his father's deeds. “Damn!” He entered his apartment and kicked the edge of his sofa on his way over to his small kitchen. He retrieved a bottle of Cîroc from his cabinet, then opened the refrigerator in search of cranberry juice.

Jerome mixed his drink as he thought about the night's events, still trying to take in the hard reality of his hidden connection to Erica and her comment about this being a sign.
Is that why we were drawn to each other?

An hour later, Jerome was lying across his sofa, nursing the last drop of liquor in his glass. He knew that drinking himself into a stupor was a bad idea, but at the moment it was the only thing that numbed the disappointment and loneliness he felt. All he could think about was Erica, what she must be going through, and how he wanted to be by her side but couldn't.

His eyes blinked in quick succession when he heard a pounding knock at his door. He was startled because he rarely, if ever, had any visitors, and he wondered who it could be at this time of night. Then it came to him—Erica! She'd come to be with him and to work through the terrible mess that had been made back in the past.

Jerome slowly stumbled to his feet, his head feeling as though it was spinning round and round like a hula hoop. He was in no shape to stand, let alone walk, but somehow he managed to prop himself up against the door for support. This wasn't the state he wanted Erica to see him in, but at this point it really didn't matter, because all he could think about was being with her and easing her pain.

When he looked through the peephole and saw Kelisha, he had to do a double take to confirm that his eyes hadn't betrayed him. He looked a second time as he blinked again, and there was no mistaking that it was Kelisha's hard fists pounding on the door.

“Jerome, I know you up in there, 'cause I seen your truck parked on the street. I talked to Jamel, and he said you didn't sound good. Open up.”

“I'm fine. Go home.”

“No, you ain't, and I can tell you been drinkin'. Open up!”

Jerome didn't need the headache of dealing with Kelisha, but at the same time he didn't have the energy to stand at the door and argue until she went away. He needed to get back to the couch before he fell to the floor, which had begun to spin beneath his unsteady feet. He unlocked the dead bolt and then stumbled back to the couch, letting Kelisha make her own entrance.

“What the hell is wrong with you?” she asked, surveying the room. “It smells like a liquor house in here.” She picked up the empty Cîroc bottle next to the couch. “You drank this whole bottle by yourself?”

“It wasn't full when I started.”

“How much did you drink?”

Jerome was growing tired of Kelisha's voice, and all he wanted to do was sleep next to Erica in peace and quiet. “Listen, I'm tired. It's been a long night.”

“I can see.” She stood over him at the edge of the couch. “You don't even roll like this anymore. Somethin' bad must've happened to make you so upset that you went back to drinkin' like this.”

Jerome's stomach and head felt as though they were in a losing battle with his body. His eyes began to feel heavy, and he could barely hear Kelisha's nagging voice any longer.

“Let's get you to bed,” Kelisha said with a smile. “I know how to take care of you. Like I was just saying the other week, I always got your back.”

Chapter 47

E
rica awoke to the smell of bacon and eggs. “Mom's down there cooking,” she said through a sleepy yawn. She stretched and yawned again, feeling as though she hadn't rested, despite the fact that she'd gotten a full eight hours' sleep.

She sat up at the edge of her bed and rubbed her tired eyes with the heels of her hands. She felt exhausted and anxious, the way she usually did after a bad dream, only her nightgown wasn't soaked with sweat and her heart wasn't racing in her chest.

For a brief moment she thought that maybe she had indeed been dreaming, and that the drama that had brought her holiday celebration to a standstill was all make-believe. But she knew every horrible detail from twenty-five years ago had unfolded in real time, right in the middle of her very own living room. The fact that her mother was downstairs instead of in her own house let Erica know it was real, and the fact that Jerome wasn't lying beside her when she awakened confirmed it.

“It happened, and now I have to get on with life,” Erica said aloud. She wrapped her warm terry-cloth bathrobe around her body and went downstairs.

“Good morning,” Maureen greeted. “You're just in time for breakfast.”

Erica took a seat at her kitchen table as her mother placed a plate in front of her. “You didn't have to cook, Mom. There's tons of food in the fridge that we never touched yesterday.”

“You can't eat turkey and dressing for breakfast. That's just unnatural.”

Erica unfolded her napkin and laid it across her lap. She wanted to eat because she hadn't had a meal since yesterday's breakfast. Her stomach was growling, but she didn't have an appetite, so she drank her orange juice instead. “How do you feel this morning?”

“Surprisingly, I feel pretty good. Thanks for letting me spend the night. It's the first good night's sleep I've had in years. It's like my insomnia vanished.”

“Really? I didn't know you had trouble sleeping.”

“There are a lot of things I've kept to myself over the years,” Maureen said in a low voice. “That's the thing about secrets. You can lock them away, but they'll eat at you little by little, until either they consume you or you set them free.”

Erica thought about the wisdom and truth in her mother's words, knowing they applied to her own life, as well. When she'd finally drifted off to sleep, she'd been afraid that a dangerous nightmare would break her slumber, which usually happened after experiencing the kind of drama she'd gone through yesterday. But instead of waking in a panic, she'd slept through the night without opening her eyes even once. Now that she'd faced the bogeyman, she no longer had anything to fear. She was free. Just as her mother had said.

“Your father is moving out of the house,” Maureen said, breaking Erica's thoughts. “We talked before I came down to make breakfast. It's such a relief. We were just keeping up appearances, and now we don't have to.”

Erica nodded. “I still can't believe everything that's happened. I mean, what are the odds that I'd be dating the son of the man who traumatized our family and who . . .” Erica paused, not knowing how to say what she was thinking other than to blurt it out. “Who you had an affair with. It's going to take a while for it all to really sink in.”

“Yes, I know. It's a lot to absorb. After Parry went away to prison, I didn't think I'd ever see him again. But that shows you how strange life is. I never in a million years thought he'd end up being my in-law.”

Erica put down her orange juice and looked at her mother with surprise. “I think you're jumping the gun.”

“And I think you're fooling yourself. Sweetie, don't let the past mess up what can be a happy future. Parry paid his dues for that night.... We all did,” Maureen said, a hint of sadness coating her soft voice. “It's a brand-new day, and it's time to get on with the business of living. You and Jerome are good for each other. Don't let love slip away from you, because sometimes you don't get a second chance at it.”

Erica rose from her chair, walked around the small table, and kissed her mother on the cheek. “Thanks, Mom. You can let yourself out. Just call me when you leave so I can set the house alarm from my phone,” Erica said as she headed down the hall.

“Are you going out to do a little Black Friday shopping?” Maureen called out.

“Nope, I'm gonna take your advice. I'm going to see my man!” Erica yelled back. She walked up the stairs with a mission—get dressed and head over to Jerome's house. She was going to put the gloomy past behind her so she and Jerome could have a bright future.

 

 

Jerome's head felt as though balls were bouncing around inside it. He was stretched out on top of his bed, eyes shut, mouth dry, and his body feeling as though he'd been up all night.

“Here. Drink this,” Kelisha said as she handed Jerome a glass.

“What's in this?”

“Alka-Seltzer.” She smiled. “I found it in your cabinet.”

In my cabinet? Who the hell told her she could go through my stuff?
he thought. He wanted to call her out on rummaging through his cabinets and probably his drawers, too. He could only imagine how much she'd snooped around while he'd been asleep. There were things he certainly didn't want her to find. But the deafening ringing inside his head quieted his fight. “Thanks,” he whispered instead.

Kelisha sat on the edge of Jerome's bed, smiled, and gently stroked his forehead. “I'll always have your back. I'ma take care of you.”

“Please don't do that,” Jerome said, moving Kelisha's acrylic-laced nails away from his head.

She threw her hand in the air. “I can't believe you. I took care of your pissy drunk ass, made sure you got in the bed, and cleaned you up in the shower this morning. But now you don't want me to touch you? What kinda bullshit is that, Jerome?”

Jerome hadn't suffered from a hangover in so long, he'd forgotten how awful it felt, and Kelisha's presence wasn't making it any better. He appreciated the fact that she'd taken care of him, but he knew the singular motive behind her kindness, and he knew that the slightest contact with her could lead to trouble. He wanted to beat himself up for getting drunk and letting his guard down in the first place, because now he had to contend with the consequences.

He barely remembered falling asleep last night in a booze-filled haze. The last thing he felt before closing his eyes was Kelisha's arm draped over his shoulder, her breasts pressed against his back, and a sense of regret, which he'd been too tired to fight, but now he wished he had. He didn't want Kelisha thinking that just because they'd slept in the same bed—he was glad that sleeping was the only thing they'd done—it entitled her to take certain liberties, like she'd obviously done this morning.

When he'd awakened, he was naked, standing in the shower with water beating down on him and Kelisha hovering an arm's length away. She'd tried to towel him off, but he'd rebuffed her actions. After he lumbered back to his bedroom, it was all he could do to pull on his pajama bottoms and fall onto the mattress for a few more hours of sleep.

Jerome was disappointed that he'd allowed this situation to even happen, and he knew he had to fix it right away. “Listen, Kelisha, I appreciate what you've done, but you didn't have to come over here and I didn't ask for your help with anything. I'm not trying to be disrespectful, but c'mon, you know I'm in a relationship. And you and me, we ain't like that anymore.”

Just then his cell phone rang on his nightstand. He saw Erica's name flash across the screen and debated whether he should answer. He wanted to hear her voice so badly, but he knew he couldn't risk talking in front of Kelisha, who he was sure would purposely say something in the background so Erica could hear her on the other end.

“I'll walk you to the door,” he said.

“Oh, no, your black ass didn't!” Kelisha nearly screamed. “You gonna put me out just 'cause she callin' you. I don't understand you, Jerome! First, you say you want to get back wit me, and now you playin' me off for some uppity bitch and—”

“Hold up. I never said I wanted to get back with you.”

“That's not what I heard.”

“From who?”

“Who you think?” Kelisha spat. “Oh, just forget it. I ain't got time for this bullshit. I'm out!”

Before Jerome could question her further, Kelisha slammed his front door behind her. He didn't want her leaving in a mad fit, but he was relieved that she was gone. He picked up his phone and hit Erica's number. He waited as it rang and rang, until the call finally went to her voice mail.

“Hey, baby. It's me. Sorry I missed your call. Hit me back.” He saw that she'd left a message, so he quickly retrieved it.

“Hey, it's me. I'm actually parked outside your building, getting ready to come up. I guess I'll just knock on your door. See you in a few seconds.”

“Shit!” Jerome hung up and rose from his bed. He walked over to open his mini-blinds, and when he looked out his window, he felt as though all the life was draining from his body. He shook his head at the scene taking place two stories below—Erica and Kelisha, standing toe-to-toe.