Jaded (The Butterfly Memoirs) (20 page)

“What did you do?” she asked on Thursday night while we sat on the front porch.

Once again, it was the two of us. Yasmine had informed my mother that morning she would not be home in time for dinner.

“Why did I have to do something wrong?”

 “Zachariah, when a woman goes from smiling at you to avoiding eye contact and being in the same room, breathing the same air, you did something.”

I cringed. If I’d known the repercussion of not telling her Melissa was looking for me, I would have told her in a heartbeat. Since I did not intend to talk to my ex, much less see her again, it wasn’t important.

“She found out Melissa was looking for me.”

Curiosity etched over her face. “You told her?”

I avoided her stare. “It’s complicated.”

“Uh, huh.” She waited. “And?”

“And…she’s mad because I didn’t mention it to her before she found out.”

“How did she find out?”

I groaned and looked away. “We were having dinner at my place when Melissa stopped by, unannounced. We exchanged a few words, I told her to leave, and she refused. They exchanged a few words and I had to stop Yasmine before a fight broke out. She left shortly after that.”

“Oh good grief.” She shook her head. “Men.”

“What?”

“If you have any intention of telling her how you feel, you need to communicate about everything. Even the things you don’t think are important. Just because they are insignificant to you, doesn’t mean she’ll see things the same way. Let her make that decision.” She shook her head. “And contact with an ex-fiancée would be important.”

“Now you tell me,” I muttered. “Besides, there was no contact. I never called Melissa.”

She laughed and patted my knee. “If you want to be with Yasmine, you have to treat her differently than any other woman you’ve dealt with.” She paused as her words sank in. “Do you love her?”

I leaned back in the porch swing. “I have some deep feelings—”

“Oh no, lover boy, you two are so transparent. It’s like looking through a glass window. I know what you guys are doing when you both have ‘plans’ at the same time.” She punctuated her statement with air quotation marks and grinned. “Besides, you’ve confirmed my suspicions.”

I shook my head and chuckled. “Okay, yes, I’m in love with her. How long have you known?”

“Since you started staying later than usual for dinner. Not to mention the love-struck stare every time she enters the room. Then there’s the way she looks at you.”

“The way she looks at me? What are you talking about?”

“It’s just like a man not to notice,” she muttered.

I felt dumbstruck. “Yasmine never mentioned she’d be interested in—”

She laughed. “Of course not, she’s too scared to expect another man to love her. You have to convince her you’re what she needs.”

“I have wanted to, but since we both put not wanting a serious relationship on the table, I have no idea how to tell her I’ve changed my mind.”

“Don’t tell her, show her. Treat her with respect. Take your time, make love to her.”

I gawked.

“Hey, I was a young woman once. Your father did the same thing to me.” Her eyes softened in memory. “I gave him a hard time, too. Trust me, his plan won my heart. Yasmine and I are alike; it will work.”

She wasn’t kidding. That fact alone was one of the reasons why I fell in love with her. Yet, I couldn’t ignore my reservations. “What if it doesn’t? What if it’s too late?”

“I don’t think you’ve done anything that bad. I’ve watched her. Yasmine is at a point in her life where she’s trying to decide what to do next. If you plan ahead and make the next time you’re together special, the only other thing you’ll need is this...” She reached into her sweater pocket, extracted a small red box, and handed it to me.

I stared. “Mom…it’s your wedding ring.”

“Offer her your love and your heart, Zachariah. Once she knows you’re serious, everything else will fall in line.”

My chest tightened. “You didn’t give this to me when I proposed to Melissa.”

“She didn’t deserve it, just like she didn’t deserve you. You’ve chosen wisely this time. You have my blessing.” Her eyes glistened with tears.

Her advice meant more to me than anything in the world. What would I do without her?

I leaned in to give her a hug and kissed her damp cheek. “I love you, Mom. Thank you.”

She pinched my check as she did when I was a kid. “I love you, too. My goal is to see you happy, Zachariah. Yasmine makes you happy. The both of you will take care of each other. Not to mention you’ll make some beautiful babies.”

I chuckled. “Jumping the gun, aren’t you?”

“Just putting positive energy into the universe. There’s nothing wrong with that.”

The sound of a car pulling into the driveway drew my attention; Yasmine was home. I stuffed the ring into my pants pocket.

“I’ll leave you two alone. Remember what I said.” She rose slowly from the swing, waved to Yasmine and went inside, shutting the door behind her.

I stood on the porch and waited for Yasmine to approach the steps. The expression on her face as she approched was hard to read. There was no anger or happiness just resolve. Her smile was forced when she reached the bottom step, her gaze never fully connecting with mine.

“Hi.”

“Good evening, Zack.”

She took sudden interest in her purse.

“I’ve missed you.”

My admission got her attention. “I don’t know why, I’ve been right here.”

“No, you haven’t. You’ve been avoiding me.”

She sighed and looked away. “I’ve been busy. I’m sorry if that’s what you think. Work’s been hectic and…” Her voice caught.

I stepped down to the step where she stood. I reached out and ran a finger over her cheek and drew those beautiful grey eyes to me. “You don’t have to explain. I understand. It’s my fault things got this way, and I’m sorry. Just do me a favor…”

She blinked. “What?”

“Come to me tomorrow night.”

She sighed and pulled away. “Maybe we should take some time off.”

“Don’t do that. Don’t try to ignore what’s between us. We need to talk. Promise me you’ll come.”

She continued to focus on a spot over my shoulder.

“Yasmine.”

Our eyes met again and the all too familiar heat of her gaze filled me in places I didn’t know were empty. Her eyes held a faint sheen of tears.

“Please,” I whispered.

She nodded.

“Same time, okay? What happened last week is in the past.” I looked at her lips. “We can’t afford to lose what we have.” I reached for her chin, held her lightly, and kissed her. I didn’t rush… slow, soft, and what we both needed, a reminder of what we shared. “Tomorrow,” I murmured against her mouth.

Her eyes were still closed when we parted.

I walked down the steps and got into my car. Yasmine stood on the steps and watched me as I backed out of the driveway. There was a lot to do in the next twenty-four hours. Our future depended on it. The question Nick had asked a few weeks ago needed a resolution.

Mere words would not be enough. She’d been hurt too many times to count. Action is what she needed. She needed to know that what I wanted and what I could give her went well beyond the bed.

Chapter 24

Time is a precious commodity never to be wasted.

I was up at three A.M. Unable to sleep, I reviewed my life in old photo albums.

Pictures of Zachariah as a newborn all the way until the day he graduated technical college were strewn around the living room. I had spent every night of the past few weeks studying each photo, remembering the day in detail. Some events were hard to remember while others felt as if they had happened yesterday. Tonight’s pictorial journey revisited the start of my relationship with Charles.

Zachariah’s father was one handsome man; our son was the perfect image of him, especially with those eyes. Just like Charles, those warm hazel orbs were the access to his soul, showing every emotion he felt, no matter how hard he tried to hide it.

I missed my husband. Our short time together had been amazing. Twelve years. It sounded like forever to some, but it was just a drop in the bucket compared to the twenty-two years spent alone. Once Zachariah graduated high school and got a place of his own, I tried to find a companion, a stab at giving love a second try. I went on dates, spent quality time with a select few.

Yet, none could ever compare to what Charles and I had.

After a while I decided enough was enough and focused on me.

Until the cancer diagnosis kicked my butt.

All plans of happiness in my work and watching my son continue to mature into the man I knew he could become fell to the wayside. Everything revolved around nothing else but my health.

Every day was a challenge; every pill swallowed a reminder of the fragility of life…how things could be great one minute, then change in the blink of an eye.

No matter how much we wanted things to return to normal, it would never happen. Now there was a gigantic clock on the wall counting down the months, the days, the hours of life left.

Everything around me became crystal clear.

It never ceased to amaze me how much people took for granted when they thought time was on their side. My son was one of them. I prayed he took my suggestion to heart and made his true feelings known to Yasmine.

He could use all the help he could get.

“Ms. Belinda, are you okay?”

Startled, I glanced over at Yasmine who stood at the entrance of the living room, rubbing her eyes. Her hair was wrapped in a headscarf, make-up washed away, and she wore a tight pair of sleeping shorts and a tank top. The pajamas women wore today. How could they be comfortable? Well, at least it wasn’t as bad as thongs. I’d given the panties a brief stent while dating in an effort to feel young and hip. The scraps of material were not a pleasant experience.

“I’m okay, sweetie, just taking a trip down memory lane. Why are you awake?” I asked.

She studied the scattered albums and pictures. “Couldn’t sleep. I decided a glass of milk would help. Do you want anything?”

“Sure, can you bring me one of those protein shakes?”

She nodded, then disappeared into the kitchen. I pulled out another photo. Ah, I remembered this one well. It had been taken shortly after meeting Charles, the evening of our first date. I looked like a totally different person then; thirty pounds lighter and my hair worn in an afro. A tight shirt and bell-bottom pants completed my attire. Those were the days.

“Here you go.” Yasmine handed me the cold can, then peered over my shoulder. “Is that you?” She laughed.

“I was rockin’ that style, wasn’t I?”

She nodded. “I love your hair.” She reached beside me to retrieve a fallen photograph from the couch. “Oh wow, is this Zack’s dad?”

I nodded. “Charles had to be Zachariah’s age then.”

“He looks just like him. Those eyes.”

“Acts like him, too.”

“A perfect gentleman?” she joked.

“Oh Charles was no gentleman. Maybe on the street, but behind closed doors in the bedroom, he was an animal.”

I glanced over in time to see Yasmine’s cheeks flush pink.

She looked at the open photo album lying on the sofa beside me, picked it up, and joined me on the couch. “Oh, this is so cute! How old was he?”

I let my comment pass and chuckled. “Zachariah was ten. That was two years after Charles died. He’d just won an award at school for having all A’s.”

She studied it for a moment. “I can tell the difference in the eyes. They seem sad even though he’s smiling.”

“Losing his father at such an early age changed him. The two of them were very close.”

“Zach said he doesn’t remember him that well.”

“I know. It’s hard to lose a parent at such a young age and be able to remember everything about them as you grow older.”

“How did he die?”

I glanced over. “Zachariah never told you?”

She shook her head. “I asked once, but never got an answer.”

I ran a finger over an old image of my husband, trying my best to remember the feel of his warm cheeks against my palm. “Charles was in the wrong place at the wrong time. He worked the night shift at a warehouse. One night he was coming home and got hit by a drunk driver. They say it was over before he knew what happened.”

Memories of that night flooded me. The knock on the door, the policeman; collapsing in anguish. Having to tell my son that daddy was never coming home.

“I’m so sorry.” Tears were in her voice.

I patted her knee. “Thank you, dear, but it’s been so long ago. I think Zack hurt the most because he wasn’t here that night. He was at a sleepover. He didn’t get to say goodbye to his father the night before because he’d caught the bus home with his friend after school. The last thing Zack remembers is saying goodbye before going to school.”

“Oh…” Tears collected in the corner of her eyes.

“Things like this remind me life is too short to play around.”

Yasmine nodded. “Zack has said the same thing to me.”

We sat in silence for a few minutes. I sighed then closed the album in my hands, turning to get her full attention.

“Can I ask you something?”

“Yes, ma’am, anything.”

“What are you waiting for?”

Confusion clouded her face. “I don’t understand.”

“Forgive an old lady for being nosey, but like I said, time is precious. I know you have feelings for my son. What are you waiting for?”

Her gray-eyes widened to the size of saucers. “I…I don’t have feelings…,” she stuttered.

I held my hand. “Okay, that was putting it delicately. I know you’re in love with him. What’s stopping you?”

“I’m not in love with Zack,” she snapped.

Defensive…always a good sign. “It’s okay to admit it, Yasmine. I take it you’ve had a bad experience in the past. Woman to woman, I know how that feels. One moment you feel as though you’re on top of the world and love is all you need to get by. Your man is perfect…then it all comes crashing down. He’s not everything you thought he was. The next thing you know, falling for someone is putting you at risk for being hurt again.”