Ghost Writer (Raven Maxim Book 1) (56 page)

“Peter, in my research, I found out that you’d been given up for adoption as a baby, and you never felt like you really fit in or were welcome. Your adoptive mother was cruel, overbearing… She tried to break your spirit. Once, during an interview, you stated in a joking manner that you were afraid to get married and have children… fearing you’d find a way to ruin it, because you were self destructive. You spoke that into existence, but I don’t believe you realized it at that time, and now…” Sloan sniffed and looked down at his shoes, then back at the dam. “Now you regret it.”

“I think you chose me because we had the same passions… a similar kind of pride. I think you let me stay in your home, but grew frustrated with me until Emerald arrived. My stubbornness wouldn’t allow you to get from me what you needed, but she was the key, a middleperson, if you will, between us. For obvious reasons, I take it she reminded you a bit of your lovely Sadie; both of them nurses, both black women with beautiful smiles… they even have a similar build.

“I imagine you and I both needed this, Peter. This wasn’t just a gift to you, but to me as well. This experience has answered a lot of questions for me, but also puzzled me, too. Some of the answers I may never receive, and I’ve got to be all right with that, because that’s how the real world works, you know? Shit isn’t always neatly packaged. We just…” He shrugged. “We just do the best we can, day by day. So, anyway, Peter, I finished your book and its going to press soon. In a short while, everyone will know about you and Sadie, and your son, Joseph. That’s what you wanted all along, a voice beyond the grave. The voice you were too afraid to use when you were alive, but now have the courage to scream the truth, through
me
…

“And I’m grateful for the opportunity, man… so grateful to have been your ghostwriter. I wish you well, and I hope you’re finally at peace. No more hungering for the truth to be told, no more starvation from love. No more denying
of
love. You’re well fed, Mr. Jones. This bounty is all for
you
…”

Something New, Something Borrowed, Something Blue

~FOR SALE~

E
merald stood off
to the side as the large, white moving truck was loaded up with Sloan’s belongings. His children and best friend Mike, along with a slew of others, including hired hands, helped load the thing up. It was a bittersweet day, one that had caught her by surprise. Just the prior week, Sloan stated his intention to peddle the place. Bewildered, she’d questioned why, after all he’d gone through to get it to his liking, make it inhabitable and peaceful…

“That’s the point,” Sloan had told her gravely. The house had served its purpose for him, and now, something told him it was time to move on, to leave it to someone else. He’d listened to his gut instinct when he’d first moved from New York City, and now, he was listening to it again.

They spent the next couple of days racing around Maxim, looking at homes for their new life together. She wished for a place that would give her enough room to do her restoration work, preferably a large garage or state of the art shed, and he needed an office with soundproof walls, tranquility, and a minibar. Maxim had a bit of everything—new constructions with contemporary design and old, historic areas chock full of stories and architectural delights.

Sloan didn’t wish to be in anything more than ten years old, and she understood why. Though Peter had proved to be gentler than he’d initially demonstrated, a one-time paranormal experience on that scale was quite enough… no need to invite more trouble.

“Please make him get rid of it!” Michelle marched up to her, arms crossed and brow furrowed as she stormed away from her father in a huff.

“Get rid of what?” Emerald looked over the young lady’s shoulder to see Sloan holding what appeared to be a vintage, cartoonish statue of a naked woman with gigantic breasts. “Oh…” She burst out laughing.

“He’s had it since we were kids. Mom tried to throw it away several times, but he always fished it out the trash. It gave me nightmares!” Michelle raved.

“But it gave me sweet dreams!” Joel yelled, causing a burst of laughter from Sloan and Mike.

Emerald tapped her shoulder sympathetically. “I’ll talk to him about it. It is hideous, isn’t it?” She stifled a laugh, knowing damn well she’d have to pry it out of his hands before he’d let the monstrosity go.

“Yes. Please throw it away when he isn’t looking, preferably in a river!” Michelle returned to work, still ranting and raving about the thing.

The smell of the freshly mowed grass tickled Emerald’s nostrils. Spring had definitely sprung, and brought with it a sense of renewal, of rebirth. She took one long look at the house and smiled.

“Peter, Sadie and Joseph… thank you for giving me Sloan…”

And that was that…

As a writer, people expect great, almost poetic words from me at the drop of a hat. Honestly, I don’t have much to say and want to keep this simple. I got the girl. It’s a done deal. I just want to get to the drinkin’, the partyin’, the eatin’, and the fuckin’…

Sloan stood in
the large African Methodist Church on Sable Street, sporting a fixed grin. His muscles felt constricted in the classic black and white tuxedo, paired with a white fedora hat with black trim and a touch of baby blue. A dash of gangster made him proud. Still tasting his latest cigarette on his palate, he slid his hand slowly across the brim of his hat and checked his neat reflection in the men’s room wall-to-wall mirror. The three-stall bathroom was equipped with two urinals; from the overwhelming smell of bleach, a cleaning crew had just run through there, giving it the good ol’ disinfectant treatment.

“Let me give you some marriage advice,” Mike began after clearing the phlegm out of his throat and rocking back on his Apt 9 black dress shoes. “You see, you have to just—”

“Shut tha hell up, Mike!” David barked from a few feet away. “Don’t even start. You’ve been married fifty times, now trying to give advice, phishhh! Who are you to tell anyone anything?”

“That’s just the reason. I’m qualified by experience and you’ve not been married one goddamn time ’cause no one wants cha, ya piece of shit. Now shut it!” He put his hand in the air as if to silence a large, rowdy crowd, while Sloan just shook his head. “The maestro is talkin’…”

“Yeah… right outta ya ass,” David mumbled, turning to the mirror and smoothing out his hair.

“Sloan.” Mike put his hand on his shoulder, seriousness all over his face. “Emerald is a good lady. And I—”

“Hey, is the rumor true? Are Black women better in bed, Sloan?” Owen interrupted, eliciting a bunch of curse words and heehawing. Sloan smirked and threw the idiot a ‘look’. “What?!” The buffoon shrugged. “It’s an honest question! I always wanted to know…might as well ask someone who knows, right?”

Ignoring him, Mike continued. “Like I was sayin’ before Dumb and Dumber rudely interrupted me, Emerald is a good lady, you know? I’ve had some chats with her, got to know her a bit…so, appreciate her.”

“You’ve seen that lady probably less than five times and now you’re the authority on his girl now, huh?” David piped in again, refusing to let Mike have his say in peace.

“I know a good broad from a bad one and besides, I didn’t pick bad women to marry. I just picked women that weren’t right for me. There’s a big fuckin’ difference.”

“Fair enough,” David agreed.

Sloan nodded in understanding, placing his hand on Mike’s shoulder, the two bonding more as mates, regarding each another with deep sincerity.

“Emerald
is
right for you. I just know it. I’m proud of ya man,” Mike pulled Sloan into a brotherly embrace, squeezed him tight. “Congratulations.”

“Thank you, Mike.” Sloan released him and returned his attention to the mirror to admire his shave. His mustache and beard were trimmed to perfection. “I appreciate that.” He then turned to the small gathering of men, some of whom he’d grown up with, and others he’d only met in the last few years. He clasped his hands together. “All right, it’s time to roll! Let’s get out there in our monkey suits, get me married, and party the fuckin’ night away!!!” he bellowed, causing an uproar of masculine yells, followed by high-fives.

He practically raced out of there into the sanctuary, not one bit surprised to find only standing room. Three women in pale blue gowns stood at the front holding microphones, their melodic voices bringing to mind ethereal angels.

A couple of members of the press were allowed to mingle and take photos. Standing straight, Sloan buttoned his suit jacket and when summoned, he marched down the aisle with Mike close behind. When he got to the front, he took notice of Nikki sitting on the first pew, clasping her fiancée’s hand. He waved and smiled at his stepdaughter, and she returned the favor. He’d spoken to her several times on the phone, seen countless photos, but this was his first time looking her in the eye. He was thrilled she could make it, and knew it meant so much to Emerald, making her special day complete.

One of the women in blue began to sang Norah Jones’, ‘Come Away With Me.’ Everyone got to their feet as the minister came to stand front and center, his long black and red robe swaying against a snow white rug. Sloan’s heart picked up pace, the blood pumping faster when Emerald appeared in an impeccable, long, silky light blue dress with a matching train made of sky blue lace. In her hands she held a bouquet of roses in various shades of blue, and she had her arm wrapped around that of a short, stout woman wearing a cobalt blazer and skirt, along with a pair of orthopedic shoes. His eyes watered when he realized who it was—the surprise guest who Emerald said would be the cherry on top…

Aunt Sugar.

In a fluid motion, Nikki got to her feet. The young woman was dressed in an indigo jacket, matching flared pants, and blue kitten heels. Her long, heavy, natural braids were pulled back away from her face, showing the world just how gorgeous she was… just like her mother. The tall, slender woman made her way over to her mother and looped her arm around hers, causing Emerald to burst out in tears. Sloan briefly lowered his head and smiled. Apparently his bride had been taken by surprise by the kind gesture of her child.

When he looked back up, he saw his ex-wife, Katie, sitting next to Joel and Michelle. Now, he was taken by surprise, too! Especially since Katie wasn’t sent an invitation…

He swallowed his concerns and concentrated on the moment at hand. His lips curled in an anticipatory grin when Emerald made her way down the aisle, her little hips swaying to the rhythm of the a cappella song. The crowd burst out laughing when Nikki ushered her mother away from Sugar and did a little two step dance with her in the middle of the aisle. Sloan clapped at the two women who moved about, staring at one another and laughing, clearly in their own little world… celebrating things that others around them had no notion of.

One of Sloan’s associates, a musician, walked up to the singers, who stopped singing on cue when he whispered something in the middle vocalist’s ear. Then, he took his seat at the piano and began to sing a cover of “Happy” by Pharrell Williams, causing just about everyone to shout their approval and sing along, including Aunt Sugar who bobbed about to the beat, smacking her hands together. Suddenly, Emerald raced to the front of the church, grabbed a tambourine and handed it to Aunt Sugar, causing even more hysteria. By now, Mike, David, Owen, and the others were laughing so hard, they were practically choking.

Every now and again, Emerald glanced at Sloan and threw him a smile. When the song was over, Nikki casually took her seat. The minister urged everyone to settle down. Emerald had assumed a prim and poised stance, as if she hadn’t just been dancing all over the church. This tickled Sloan so.

They began to recite their vows, textbook style, nothing special, until he took both of her hands into his own and looked in her eyes.

“Emerald, you and Nikki have caused enough ruckus so I won’t delay this much longer.” Everyone burst out laughing, and she hung her head in faux shame. When she looked back up at him, she had a sweet smile on her face. She waited, listening intently. “I love you, and nothing I could write could ever express it properly. The moment I saw you that night in the grocery store, I knew you were special. I can’t explain it; I can’t tell you how I knew. If I tried, it would just sound stupid or cheesy, but I just did.” He took a deep breath.