Dangerously In Love (19 page)

C
ecily invited her to share her small apartment, but not wanting to overburden her friend, Dayna turned down her offer.

Lugging suitcases and trash bags, she’d shown up unannounced on her mother’s doorstep. One look at Dayna’s tear-swollen eyes and her mother was forced to come out of her own depression to comfort her daughter. With her head nestled in her mother’s bosom, Dayna divulged every tawdry detail of her marriage to Reed, ending with the humiliating thirty-day eviction.

Furious, Pamela Hinton eased Dayna from her chest and stood up abruptly. “I could kill him!” She spoke through clenched teeth. “I’m your mother and even if you couldn’t see past his good looks and smooth demeanor, I should have immediately sensed that he was nothing more than an opportunist.” Dayna’s mother began pacing and wringing her hands helplessly. “Instead of protecting you, I encouraged you to marry that…that monster.”

“Mom!” Dayna said sharply. Wiping tears with the back of her hand, she stood up. “Mom, it’s not your fault. I was in love with Reed when I married him.” Dayna paused in thought. “Or maybe I was in love with the idea of getting married. Whatever the case, there was nothing you could have done to stop me.”

“But I was so wrapped up and embarrassed by my own predicament, I allowed you to marry someone you hardly knew just to keep up appearances.”

Uncomprehending, Dayna tilted her head to the side.

“Being recently divorced, I felt like such a failure. But your marriage redeemed me. If my daughter was marrying such a handsome, upstanding man, then I could believe that at least I hadn’t failed you.” Her mother covered her face with her hands and sobbed.

Dayna bent slightly to hug her mother. “The way I’ve allowed your father to treat me…” Her mother’s muffled voice broke off in a low whine of anguish. “I know I’ve been a terrible role model, sweetheart,” she sobbed, shaking her head regretfully. “I’m so sorry. I’m going to do better; I promise.”

“You couldn’t help it, Mommy.” Dayna’s voice came out in the tiny voice of a six-year-old. “You miss Daddy and I miss him, too. But he left us; he moved on and we have to try to move on, too.” Locked in a tight embrace, the two women silently mourned their shared loss.

Drained from the encounter with Reed and feeling too emotionally weakened to attempt polite small talk with her mother, Dayna retreated to her former bedroom in her parents’ home.

Two days later, Dayna lay on her back and stared at the ceiling. She sat up when she heard her mother’s soft, hesitant knock on her bedroom door. “Come in.”

Her mother peeked her head in. “Cecily’s on the phone. Do you feel like talking?” Dayna pondered the question and decided two days of wallowing in self-pity was long enough. She nodded. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw her mother’s look of relief as she entered the bedroom, handed Dayna the phone, and then quietly left the room.

“Hi, Cecily.” Dayna tried to inject some sunshine into her tone.

“You stood me up the last time I invited you out, so I’m not taking no for an answer,” Cecily said, sternly. “My friend Kendrick is having another art exhibit.”

“When?” Dayna asked, wearily. “Tonight at seven.”

“Tonight!”

“Yes. We’re going; I told you I’m not taking no for an answer.”

“Okay,” Dayna agreed, surprising herself. “What’s the address?”

“You’re kidding. Are you really gonna go?” Cecily asked, sounding surprised. Her no-nonsense tone had softened considerably.

“You said you weren’t taking no for an answer. Do I have a choice?” Dayna groused playfully. She wrote down the address and promised to meet Cecily there.

To hope that she’d actually have a good time was a big stretch for a woman with limited expectations, but getting out and mingling with people was better than lying in a single bed staring at the ceiling. It was time to practice what she preached; it was time to move on.

The sun still shone brightly at seven o’clock. Black folks in all their glory filled the three-story stone house and many people were chilling in the backyard, eating barbecue and fried catfish. These people who came out to view art were as vibrant and beautiful as the oil and acrylic paintings that graced the walls on every floor.

Mesmerized by the lively and colorful setting, Dayna wasn’t quite sure where to place her focus. She’d find herself enthralled by a particular painting and then quickly shift her gaze to one of the spectators whose fashionable attire demanded attention.

Garbed in a colorful array of African fabric, men and women floated through the house with the proud carriage of kings and queens. Others, dressed to impress in a range of fashions from trendy jeans to business suits, also provided interesting and pleasant visuals as they gazed at the displayed artwork.

“I don’t see Kendrick,” Cecily said, peering through the crowd in the main room. “Come on; let’s go get something to eat. They’re grilling ribs and frying catfish in the backyard. Kendrick is probably somewhere near the food,” Cecily said, laughing.

“Go ahead; I’m not hungry yet,” Dayna said, easing closer to a colorful eye-catching painting of palm trees and blue-green water.

Cecily looked Dayna up and down like she couldn’t believe her ears. “You’re not hungry?”

“Nope.”

“Okay, I’ll be right back.” Cecily turned to leave and then turned back abruptly. “Are you sure you don’t want a plate?”

Dayna shook her head and smiled wanly. “I haven’t had an appetite lately.”

“I can tell. I didn’t want to say anything, but honey, your slacks are sagging something terrible.”

Looking down, Dayna examined the slacks. Both women burst into laughter. “I was shocked at how loose these pants had gotten,” Dayna admitted. She tugged at the loose waistband of the peach linen slacks. “Do I look sloppy?” she asked, worried.

“No, you don’t look sloppy; I was just playing. Look, you’re swimming in those pants, but that’s a good thing. There’s nothing wrong with dropping a few pounds.” Cecily craned her neck and squinted. “Oh, there’s Kendrick; I’ll be right back.”

Dayna watched Cecily approach the young man she’d met at the club in Manayunk. Dayna nodded in approval; Cecily and Kendrick looked good together.

Turning her attention back to the painting, Dayna approached the canvas slowly, reverently. It was a whimsical yet powerful piece, showing a man and a woman in a rowboat, the woman’s head resting upon the man’s chest. Palm trees swayed in the background. If only her life could be that peaceful. She scanned the painting as she searched for the name of the artist. AMMON 2005 was penned in the bottom right-hand corner. No last name; just Ammon. How intriguing. She wondered if Ammon were male or female. Beneath the painting was a card tacked to the wall with the painting’s title: “Serenity.” There was also an eight hundred dollar price tag attached. Whew!

The painting was calling her, seductively whispering her name, but she refused to respond. Homeless people such as herself did not purchase expensive art. Especially homeless people with limited funds in their savings account. She was about to get nauseous just thinking about her recent discovery of all the money Reed had been siphoning from her savings account.

Dayna forced herself to step away from the painting and move on to the next piece. Browsing, she admired more of Ammon’s paintings as well as the work of several other artists, but nothing struck her quite like “Serenity.”

“Oh, there you are,” Cecily called. In one hand, she balanced a plastic plate that was piled high with mounds of food; she held a glass of wine in the other. She also had Kendrick in tow.

“Dayna, you remember Kendrick, don’t you?” Cecily said, looking around for a place to sit and enjoy her food. She spotted a metal folding chair and pulled it over, plopped down, and started eating.

“I sure do. How are you, Kendrick? These paintings are really impressive. Are the artists here?” Dayna inquired.

“Yes…” Kendrick paused and looked around. “I just saw Ammon a few minutes ago. He’s around here somewhere.”
Ah, so Ammon is a man
, Dayna thought and found herself even more intrigued. “The other artist, Aaron Joseph, is over there.” Kendrick pointed to a light-skinned brother who was holding court near a group of his paintings. “Looks like he’s mingling with prospective buyers.”

“How’s it going?” Cecily asked.

“Good. Real good. Ammon’s work is selling like crazy.”

“Has ‘Serenity’ been sold?” Dayna asked, sounding panicked.

Cecily gave Dayna a curious look.

“I don’t think so. I’ll have to check. Are you interested?”

Dayna didn’t answer right away. “I’m not sure,” she said, feeling foolish. She didn’t want to commit to buying the painting; she just wanted to know whether or not it was available.

“You haven’t been upstairs yet, have you?” Cecily cut in. Dayna shook her head. “Well, you need to look at everything before you make a decision,” Cecily said.

Dayna nodded, grateful to be off the hook. What was wrong with her? She needed an eight-hundred-dollar painting like she needed a hole in her head.

“Well, feel free to look around. There’s plenty of food outside and drinks in the backyard and in the kitchen,” Kendrick said to Dayna.

A newly arrived couple waved to Kendrick. “I’ll be back soon.” He bent and gave Cecily a kiss before he went to greet the couple.

“I’m cool. Handle your business,” she said, blissfully content as she shoveled food into her mouth.

“Cecily! He’s wonderful,” Dayna said quietly. “I didn’t realize you two were so…close.”

“We’re getting there, but you know the game. He’s holding all the cards; it’s his world and I’m happy to be in it. If it were up to me, our relationship would be sealed tight. We’d be married right now or at least living together, but you know how it goes. A sistah’s gotta act indifferent if she expects to stay in the game.”

“You’re doing a damn good job; you sure had me fooled. Girl, you’ve got skills.”

Cecily laughed, then turned serious. “Dayna, please go get something to eat. I don’t think it’s healthy for you to just stop eating. Don’t you feel weak?”

“No, I’m fine.”

“You’re not fine. You haven’t eaten in days and I’m afraid you’re gonna collapse if you don’t eat something. I’m sure they’re serving food that’s low calorie, low carb, or whatever it is you eat. Come to think of it, I saw a fruit and raw vegetable spread in the kitchen.”

“All right, I’ll go make a salad. Be right back.” Dayna cast a fleeting glance at “Serenity” and then drifted toward the kitchen.

Numerous large wooden bowls containing fresh fruit and raw vegetables were lined up in a long row on the kitchen counter. There was a short line of people waiting, holding plastic plates. Dayna found a plate and stood at the end of the line. Suddenly ravenous, she hoped the wait wouldn’t be too long.

When someone got in line behind her, she caught a pleasant whiff of cologne. She twisted around slightly to compliment the person wearing the scent, but she abruptly closed her parted lips when she looked up and gazed into the hazel eyes of a man with golden brown skin.

It was him! The gorgeous bartender from Carmella’s. What was he doing there? She looked down at her slacks. Not only were they much too baggy, but they were wrinkled as well. Why’d she wear linen? Damn! Looking unkempt made her feel insecure. Dayna wanted to run for cover, but instead forced her lips into a polite smile.