The Pleasure's All Mine (28 page)

Maybe a little hard work would push his memories of, and need for, Raven to the back burner.

Maybe.

One month Later

Raven turned over, struggling to fall asleep. She hadn’t had one good night’s sleep since she’d returned from New York. It was as if he had opened something inside of her that she couldn’t close. Every morning, she’d wake at three a.m., wrestling over whether to pick up the phone. She wanted to call him, see him, tell him she was sorry, but stopped herself from following through.

Yanking the covers back, Raven walked the hallways of her condo. Normally the three-bedroom, three-bath place overlooking Lake Michigan offered a world of solace, but not tonight. In the living room, she sat on the sofa, pulling one of the turquoise silk pillows into her lap. Through the window, she could see the land surrounding the museums and the cars shooting down Lake Shore Drive, heading toward the towering skyscrapers and Navy Pier.

She went to the kitchen, opened the refrigerator, poured a glass of orange juice, and took a couple of sips. As she stared at the contents of her refrigerator, she realized the huge white appliance was reflective of her life: lots of empty space, with only the staples, plus some condiments for company—not that she ever had any. The only thing that gathered around the dining table was dust.

But those were the least of her concerns. Nowadays, she couldn’t sleep or eat—her clothes were getting looser by the day. Even more startling was the fact that she couldn’t write. She had
always
been able to get something on paper, no matter how quiet or loud her surroundings. No matter what was going on in her life.

She sauntered back toward the bedroom and stopped to peek in on Eric, who was visiting home only long enough to speak at his old high school. Afterward, he’d head back to Pierce in New York. Eric turned over and wiped his mouth before he clutched his pillow and started to snore again, looking every bit the way he had when he was a baby. Raven resisted the urge to go to him, to touch him. This year’s tour, plus demands from his job with Pierce had taken a toll on him. Although she understood the determination driving him, as a mother she worried that it might be too much. She sighed and turned away.

As she walked back to her room, she thought about that final argument with Pierce before he had left her to go to his meeting. When Ava called and told him to hurry, there had been no time to drop Raven at the airport. He’d told her to stay put, and she’d vacillated between staying silent and voicing her frustration. He must have told her a half a dozen times that he was the type of man who liked to have everything in his life in order—obviously that included her.

Fuck him! Tears sprang to her eyes as she tried to tell herself that she was simply too much woman to fit into any compartment of his organized life. Truthfully, though, she couldn’t tell if she hated herself for missing him or for denying herself something she loved. And he had made her more aware of herself as a woman. The sway in her hips, the feel of her clothes next to her skin. She now looked at her body in the mirror and loved what she saw even more than she had before. Loving him had shown her how much more she needed to love herself.

After she’d returned to her empty condo, her wood and stone bed was so lonely that she had taken to falling asleep with the television on—in Eric’s room.

But whenever she thought about leaving Chicago, she panicked. What if things don’t work out between them? What then? She had seen what happened when a woman changed her life for a man. Jaylon was a perfect example, and Anita a close second. Both had let a man’s demands and desires override their own.

The phone rang, slicing through the silent, predawn Monday morning. She glanced at the clock—4:07. A shiver of alarm ran through her. Calls this early usually meant bad news.

“Yes?” she answered, trying to shake a feeling of doom. Raven’s heart crashed into her chest, then nearly came to a halt at the sound of her niece’s impassioned voice.

“Auntie Rav? You gotta come quick! It’s Grandma. She’s not…she’s not…breathing!”

Raven sprinted to the bedroom. She was at least twenty minutes away from her mother’s place in Jeffery Manor. “Kayla, I’m on my way. Hang up right now and dial 911.”

“I can’t…I can’t…I––please come, Auntie. She’s slumped over in the bathroom.”

“I’m on my way, but you have to call the ambulance to come to you, baby,” Raven said in a softer tone while slipping into a pair of slacks. “Give them the address. Do it now!”

“I won’t remember,” she wailed and sobbed. “Pleeeease! Help!”

Raven would not give in to panic. She couldn’t! Kayla was sixteen and certainly capable of dialing three damn digits, but pressure could render anyone immobile. “I’ll call you back.”

Raven switched over, dialed emergency, and was instantly put in touch with dispatch. She gave the operator her mother’s address. Once she was done, she hung up and yelled, “Eric!”

First there was a thud, then the scramble of feet trying to get a grip on the floor. “Coming!”

“Grandma Jaylon’s in trouble. We have to get a move on.”

Eric’s hair was disheveled, and he had one sock on and one bare foot. He nodded and ran to grab his clothes.

Raven scooped up her keys and broke into a sprint that landed her at the elevator bank in no time. Eric followed seconds later, his pants on but not zipped or buttoned, a sweatshirt in one hand and his shoes in the other.

Raven called Kayla. “Stay with Grandma, help is on the way. Put the phone to Mama’s ear.”

“ ‘Kay.”

“Mama, the ambulance is on the way. Hang on, Mama. Hang on.” Then something made Raven add, “I love you, Mama. I love you.” Her voice broke.

She heard a mild sigh on the other end—acceptance, agreement, reply? Raven so hoped that her mother had heard those words.

“Kayla. Kayla!”

“Yes,” she cried.

“Just hold Mama’s hand. Keep talking to her. Tell her you love her. I’ll call you back in a minute.”

Raven flew into the elevator, Eric on her heels. “Damn! Move faster!” she shouted at the elevator just as the doors opened into the garage.

Eric took the driver’s seat—Raven was too preoccupied to argue. As they sped out, she flipped open the cell and dialed another number. The rings seemed to go on forever. As soon as Raven heard someone pick up the receiver, she nearly shouted, “This is Raven, Ms. Henry! Kayla says my mother’s not breathing.”

“Is this a joke?” was the slurred response.

“No, it’s not. Please hurry.”

Raven tried Kayla again. This time the line was busy. She waited a few moments before trying again. “Ms. Henry’s coming over. Answer the door.”

“She’s already here. She’s trying to do that CPR thing.”

“Kayla, tell me what happened.”

“Grandma yelled for Manny to get her some water, but he was so slow. Then she asked for a paper bag and I brought it to her. She tried to breathe into it, but then she started shaking and foam started coming out the sides of her mouth. Then she…she smiled a little. So I thought she was all right, but then she closed her eyes and grabbed her chest.” Kayla began sobbing. Raven wanted to join her. “She fell between the tub and the sink and hit her head. Please tell me she’s gonna be all right.”

Hell, Raven needed assurance too. Kayla had just relayed to her the symptoms of a heart attack. Every second was crucial. Was it too late for a dose or two of aspirin? Oh, God! What could she tell Kayla to do? When she’d heard the slight groan in response to the words I love you, she had known in her heart that her mother was leaving.

“Auntie Rav’s coming, Grandma,” Kayla said. “Grandma’s smiling, Auntie. She said, ‘Tell her, ‘love you, too.’ “

Raven closed her eyes and took a breath. Maybe her mother’s response meant she was trying to make peace with Raven. She knew her mother understood exactly what was happening. She desperately wanted her mother to hang on—they weren’t finished being mother and daughter. All those years of pain and separation, and now that it seemed that they could be on their way to healing again, God had another plan.

“Ms. Henry’s talking to Grandma.” Kayla’s voice started to break a little. “Grandma’s not talking back, though.”

A quick rustle of sound ensued before Ms. Henry came on the line. “Raven?”

“Yes.”

“The paramedics are here. They’re with her right now.”

Raven held the line a few moments before Ms. Henry said, “They’re taking her to Trinity Hospital.”

She repeated the information to Eric, who popped a serious U-turn just past 95
^th
and Jeffery, angering the few drivers behind them. He shot up 95
^th
Street toward Paxton, and almost ran straight into a construction block. “Damn! There shouldn’t be anything blocking the Paxton viaduct!”

Eric jerked the wheel, aimed for the empty sidewalk and drove past the long line of trucks.

Raven wasn’t sure whether to be afraid or proud of how Eric was handling her car on the rugged sidewalk. “Eric, this is illegal,” she scolded mildly.

“You think I don’t know that?” he responded, and she had to admit, he was driving just the way she would have had she been at the wheel.

A stream of images flowed through Raven’s mind—past arguments with her mother, the whippings she’d suffered as a child, fear of her mother’s hands, fear of her mother’s voice, the anger and resentment of being sent to her room all of the time just because her mother wanted her out of sight. Fear that her mother would send her away for good. None of it mattered now. All of the hurt and pain washed away in a sea of forgiveness. She’d take back every hurtful thought, every hurtful word if it meant her mother would live.

Raven whispered, “Please Lord, I’ll do right by my mother, just let her live. Please, please, please.” Tears streamed down her cheeks, leaving a salty wetness that sent her heart fluttering.

“Oh, Mama...” Eric loosened his grip on the wheel with his right hand and reached out to rub his mother’s shoulder.

Moments later, Eric pulled up across from the emergency entrance, letting Raven out before he went to look for a parking spot. She rushed through the electronic doors. “My mother’s here. Jaylon Ripley,” she told the nurse at the desk.

The dark-haired woman looked up. “They have her in Room C. I’ll open the door for you.”

Raven sprinted through another set of doors, past triage, past the nurses’ station, to the three rooms with curtains surrounding the beds inside. A red-eyed Kayla, Ms. Henry, and Reverend Lowry stood around her mother on the bed. She glanced over at the minister.
How did he get here so fast?

The slight grayish pallor to her mother’s smooth skin made Raven’s lips quiver. They hadn’t taken the time to cover her thinning hair before taking her out of the house. Her mother would be horrified. Raven absentmindedly smoothed the floral housedress across the woman’s shoulders, covering the darkening bruises from her fall.

She looked down at her for a few moments. Then she leaned down and pressed her lips to her mother’s forehead. Warm. There were so many things Raven wanted to say, so many things she should say no matter how she’d felt in the past growing up. Instead, she leaned in and whispered, “I love you, Mama.”

A single tear escaped from the corner of her mother’s eye, landing on the bright white sheet underneath. Raven grasped her mother’s hand and stroked the well-manicured nails.

Finally at peace.

Unfortunately, Raven knew that for her, peace would be hard, if not impossible, in the days ahead.

Raven walked toward the nurses’ station in the center of the emergency room, trying to ignore the parts of her that hurt. The bright florescent lights and the colorful hospital uniforms were in direct contrast to how she was feeling. Guilt wracked her body, and her tears flowed freely. She had blamed her mother for so much, and on a much deeper level she had always believed her mother had done the same, but Raven could never understand why.

Raven saw her older sister Janetta rush to their mother’s bedside, take one quick look, and let out a blood-curdling scream.
Oh Lord, the circus has come to town
.
More accurately, the family clown, addict, con artist all rolled into one, had just shown up to use the family’s tragedy to put a spotlight on herself.

Raven fumed. How dare this heifer pull a drama-queen act when— Her hands balled into fists.

“Ma’am, are you a family member?”

Raven tore her gaze away. “I’m her daughter,” she said to the tall, crisply dressed woman who suddenly appeared beside her. A quick look at the badge told Raven the woman was Dr. Peters.

“I didn’t get to talk with anyone except the paramedics, but based on the symptoms, I believe your mother had congestive heart failure. Did she have a regular physician?”

“My mother didn’t do doctors,” Raven replied, remembering her mother’s words:
The only time I need to see a doctor is if
they
need to see
me
about
their
illnesses.
“She was into herbs, tonics, stuff like that.”

“I see a lot of that. It’s always better, though, if they come in to see me to at least find out exactly what it is that they’re trying to heal. That way, they can be a bit more specific in seeking those natural remedies.”

Grateful the doctor didn’t turn up her nose at the practice, Raven smiled. “I wish you could’ve told her that before she started making us take that awful brown liquid that left hairs on the cup.”

The doctor looked toward the rail-thin boy sitting in a chair off in a corner by himself, then back at Raven. “Someone needs to explain to him what’s going on. No one else was calm enough to listen.”