Forgive Me (25 page)

James responded, “Son, think of this pie as a business. This is what working for someone else is. When someone else employs you, you'll always get a piece of the pie, but you'll never get the whole pie. The sooner you learn to work for yourself, the better off you'll be, and the sooner you can have your own pie.”

Jeremiah traipsed away. He was hungry and wanted the rest of the pie, but he'd begun to trust his father enough to believe working for himself was important.

The three of them jumped at the sound of the doorbell.

“James, are you expecting someone?” Aruba asked.

“The only people who know I'm here are your parents, Isaak, Katrina, and Mitch,” said James.

“I'll get it.”

“No, let me,” she said. Dr. Shipman's words came back to her.

“You sure?” he asked.

“Positive. I have to get back to life, right?”

Aruba twisted the gift bag and added it to the others. She smoothed her turtleneck and rubbed her hands over her jeans. James had braided her hair, and she loved not having to wrestle with it every day.

“Who is it?” she asked.

No one responded. She missed having a key hole. She went to the side window and peeked through the curtain. They eyed each other at the same time. She opened the door, her feet firmly planted in the carpet.

“Aruba, how are you?” asked Bria. Bria stood next to her husband, Sidney, holding a beautiful gift basket.

Aruba hadn't talked to her childhood friend since leaving Indianapolis.
They'd lost contact after she moved to California. They were neighbors in Harlem, attended college together, and reconnected years later after she hired Bria at State Farm. Their friendship nosedived after Bria learned of Aruba's infidelity. She didn't pretend to understand how Aruba could deceive everyone, and she boycotted her choice of a mate by excommunicating her. Aruba thought of Bria over the years, but she didn't know how to pick up where they left off. She'd try her hand at it today.

“Aruba, we didn't mean to come by unannounced,” said Sidney, his ice-breaking attempt.

“Your mother gave us the address, and since we're visiting from Indianapolis, I said I wouldn't let the weekend pass without seeing you. I hope you don't mind,” said Bria.

The old friends hugged and Aruba invited them in. James entered the living room and gave Sidney the universal brother's fist pound and handshake.

“Sidney, come join us in the basement. After I handle salon business, I want you to see me put this whipping on Jeremiah in
NBA 2K13.”

Alone in the living room, Aruba offered Bria a seat.

“I brought you a gift basket. I assembled it based on the things you like.”

“Thank you. You shouldn't have gone out of your way to do anything for me.” Aruba placed the basket on the coffee table.

“It was my pleasure.” Bria twiddled her fingers on her legs.

“Why are you nervous? You still do that thing with your fingers and legs, I see.”

Bria released nervous laughter and focused on the gift basket.

“I guess you heard about the suicide attempt,” said Aruba.

Bria looked at her. “My grandmother told me. She said Maxie called her from the hospital to let her know.”

“I figured Maxie told your grandmother. They're still very close.”

“I've been a horrible friend. All these years have passed, and I could have at least reached out to you to see if you were okay and needed anything,” said Bria.

“I don't think I would have reached out to me either. I let a lot of people down,” said Aruba.

“Who hasn't? I shouldn't have let all those years of friendship go because of what happened in your marriage. I didn't mean to judge you.”

“It's done. I'm moving forward, Bria. I hope we can put the past behind us.”

Bria's shoulders relaxed. Aruba handled the conversation with the grace she always exhibited.

“Look at you, gorgeous!” said Aruba. “You haven't changed at all. Sidney's looking as handsome as ever, too.”

“You're as beautiful as always, too. By the way, I'm glad to see you and James back together.”

“We're not officially back together yet. He's just helping me through this storm right now. I appreciate him being here—that's for sure.”

They fell into the rhythm of the good old days. They swapped tips, caught up on old news, and discussed Indianapolis.

“What's going on in 'Nap?” asked Aruba.

“The Beauty King himself is everywhere. Billboards, television commercials. He and—” Bria stopped short of saying Shandy's name.

“It's okay, Bree. He and Shandy are business partners now. He broke up with her before coming to Georgia to see about me. She calls and checks in with me, also. We're all adults in this situation.”

“That's commendable. You know the average woman might be crazy about letting someone like him go,” said Bria.

“Yes, the average
woman
. Shandy is a
lady
. I knew she was the
real deal when she confessed I kept them from getting closer and that James loved me.”

“She admitted it?”

“Yes. She said she always felt like a third wheel. Things are premature, but the old James I knew before I divorced is no more. He leaves his phone near me. I sit near him during conversations, and we actually talk to one another on a regular basis. These are all things we didn't do when we were married. I don't go through his phone, but he keeps it near.”

“I hope it works out for you. I always wanted your marriage to work.”

“One day at a time. I can't do any more,” said Aruba.

“Guess what happened in Indianapolis?” Bria asked.

“What?”

“The lunatic who burned her children in the fire is out of jail!”

“No! How did that happen?”

“A jury-tampering technicality. Someone pulled some strings. I'm glad you and James are out of harm's way with her.”

Aruba wondered why James hadn't mentioned Tawatha's prison release.
Then again, when did he have time?
She'd ask him about it later. Prison had a way of reforming or worsening criminals. Time would tell what the walls had done to Tawatha.

“How are things with you and Sidney?”

Bria pulled a small photo album from her purse and handed it to Aruba. She flipped through the photos and turned to Bria. “Who is this?”

“Our child, if the adoption goes through.”

Aruba squealed with joy! “A baby? She's a living doll.”

“I gave up trying to conceive a long time ago. I wanted to give Sidney a baby so badly, but it wasn't worth the changes my body
kept going through. We won't even talk about the outrageous fertility costs. I could feed a small African village with the price of one treatment. So, we did adoption screening, and here we are. The baby was born two weeks ago to a teenage mother. She's met us, has been to our home, and we helped her with prenatal care. We understand she might change her mind, but we're praying the little bundle of joy will join us soon,” said Bria.

“You and Sidney will make great parents,” said Aruba. I'd love to have a little goddaughter. If not a goddaughter, I'll make a fabulous aunt.”

“Godmother, not aunt, Aruba,” said Bria.

“I didn't even offer you anything to eat or drink. Darnella would roast me over a spit for my lack of manners,” said Aruba. “Would you like something to drink?”

“I would like water or juice,” said Bria.

Aruba headed to the kitchen, stopping in her tracks when James yelled from the basement, “I'll be damned!”

A
ruba headed to the basement, Bria close behind. The noise continued once she reached the office area of the basement. James and Sidney stood in front of the computer.

“What's wrong, James?” Aruba asked.

“Jeremiah, go upstairs to your room,” said James.

“What about our game?”

“Later. I have to take care of something.”

James's authoritative tone sent Jeremiah to his room without further argument. Aruba moved closer to the computer. Puzzled, she said, “Why the noise about your Facebook page?”

James beckoned Sidney, Bria, and Aruba. They leaned in, checking out the hair photo gallery.

“I check the photo gallery every Friday night after Shandy updates it. Low and behold, I find this tonight.”

James readjusted the screen. Aruba squinted her eyes at the screen, then gasped. “It can't be. How?”

“If you don't mind going upstairs, I'm about to find out.”

Sidney and Bria leaned into the screen as well, staring at Tawatha. Aruba never forgot faces, and Tawatha's face came back to her over the years in nightmares.

“This is the worst kind of trouble, James,” said Sidney. “If she's in your establishment, she's probably sniffing around Indianapolis trying to find you.”

“Let me get everyone on a conference call, and I'll come upstairs in a few,” said James.

The three of them went upstairs, leaving James in the basement.

He paced the length of the basement and tried to figure out how this thorn in his side kept cropping up. He wondered if this could be his payback for trying to find their daughter. Only the private investigator and Isaak knew about his search.

James dialed Shandy. She said she would be in Indianapolis throughout the holiday, so he needed her to coordinate the call. He almost hung up after several rings.

“Hello,” she answered. Her groggy voice left him with a twinge of guilt that he'd awakened her.

“Are you able to talk, Shandy?”

“Is something wrong, James?”

“Very.” He calmed himself. He couldn't navigate the business at hand if he lost his cool. “Are you near a computer?”

“Sure. Let me get to my desk,” she said.

“Log on to the Facebook page.” He waited for her to log on, then instructed her to check the Dixon's Hair Affair page.

“Okay, it's the Friday photo gallery. What's new?”

“Anyone look familiar to you?”

Shandy looked at the photos, pausing when a familiar face appeared. “Most of these are regulars except Dana Marin.”

“Which one is Dana?” he asked.

“The one with the Keri Hilson cut. She's the young lady I told you who wanted to rent the house,” said Shandy.

James ran his fingers through his hair. This nightmare was never ending. “Shandy, her name is not Dana. She's Tawatha, the woman who burned her children in the house fire. The one I had an affair with before my marriage ended.”

“James, she's been in the house. I…oh God.”

“Shandy, talk to me.”

“The gift certificate. She was able to go to the shop because I gave her a certificate for services. You have to believe me when I tell you I didn't know who she was. I would never put you or the workers in harm's way.”

“I'm not blaming you, Shandy. She's trouble though. She is certifiable. She will stalk everyone until she gets to me. If she will kill her own children, you know she'll hurt our employees without a second thought or a backward glance.”

“We need to act fast.”

“Call everyone at each shop and have them dial the conference number in twenty minutes. The code is the same. I'll conduct the call. Who serviced her?”

“Let me look at the photo again.” Shandy picked out chairs for each stylist and made sure no two colors were alike. She identified the stylists as such. It made things easier, and when a stylist deserved recognition or a possible reprimand, she knew whom to call upon by color. “It's a blue chair, so Penny serviced her.”

“Make sure she's on the call. Tawatha isn't done with her yet, so she needs to be warned.”

“I'll join everyone on the call in twenty minutes. James, I'm so sorry.”

“Don't be. You had no way of knowing,” he said.

James ended the call. He immediately went to work at his computer. He copied Tawatha's image from the hair gallery. He created a Word document with her photo attached to distribute to the four salons in Indianapolis. His banged the keyboard at a rapid pace, upset he couldn't get rid of Tawatha. He typed her real name, alias, and added that under no circumstances should she be serviced. He
gave strict instructions to have her escorted off the premises of all the salons should she show up again.

Fifteen minutes later, James, Shandy, and stylists from all his salons were connected by the conference call. He paced as he addressed everyone.

“Thanks for joining us, everyone. I will make this brief since I'm interrupting holiday time with your family, but an emergency has arisen that I have to address. A woman entered our facility and was serviced by one of our stylists. I'll cut to the chase. She is the woman who killed her children in the fire.”

Several stylists gasped.

“Penny, are you on the call?”

“Yes, James.”