Chapter 43 Hendrix
CHAPTER 43
HENDRIX
T here used to be lots of laughter in this house. Less so of late, but it still sounds familiar drifting from the kitchen. Freshly showered, I flatten my back to the wall and eavesdrop on the conversation between my mama and my boyfriend.
Boyfriend.
I let that word boing around the bouncy house in my head for a second.
I have a boyfriend. A lover. A guy. A person .
My stomach growls and the smell of Mama’s collard greens and mashed potatoes and baked chicken reminds me I skipped breakfast, too. I had an early London call before I screwed Maverick in my dad’s old office.
Sorry, Daddy.
He would have loved Maverick. I think. He never thought anyone was good enough for his little girl. To be honest, I’ve mostly agreed with him. I’ve found men to be overwhelmingly underwhelming, with a few exceptions like Josiah and Judah.
And Mav.
Before I can interrupt their conversation and fix a plate, the phone buzzes in my skirt pocket.
Zere.
Moment of truth. Although I’m fully prepared that she’ll say I’m out and can’t work with her on the show, there is a small part of me that would love for us to move past this. Holding out the tiniest bit of hope, I step into Daddy’s old office to take the call.
“Zere, hi,” I say, settling into the office chair.
“Hey, Hendrix.” Her voice holds none of the warmth I’d become used to before this all went down. “I wanted to follow up after our last call.”
“Sure. Thanks for giving it some thought.”
“I don’t want to be in business with you.”
I close my eyes and slump into Daddy’s old chair. Even knowing it was a probability, I didn’t want it to go this way.
“I’m sorry to hear that,” I reply. “But I understand.”
“In talking with my lawyers, I—”
“Wait. Lawyers? Why?”
“In case there was any confusion about who conceptualized this show or who has the right to move forward with its development. I feel confident, based on the counsel I’ve received, that you have no real claim here. Should you want to take me to court—”
“I don’t.” I stand and walk back and forth, the only outlet for my agitation. “It never even occurred to me.”
“Very naive of you. Of course there were possible legal repercussions. That’s what I’ve been investigating since we last spoke.”
“So you never even considered that we might get past this and work together? Be partners?”
“Once a thief, always a thief,” she says, her voice cooling even more to subzero. “If I couldn’t trust you with my man, you think I’d trust you with my business?”
I’m usually controlled in bitch trying to test me scenarios, but considering all that has happened with Aunt Geneva, Mama, the hospital—it’s too much. The chain holding me back snaps and so do I.
“I didn’t steal anything from you, Zere.” My voice is preternaturally calm, in stark contrast to the violence of my heart rattling the cage of my ribs. “You and Maverick were no longer together when he and I started seeing each other.”
“Technically, but—”
“Oh, if we’re getting technical, I recall being the one who actually created a pitch deck for this show.”
“But if you—”
“I’ve brought just as many contacts to the table for it as you have, if not more.”
“That may be true—”
“Oh, it is true, but I’m not consulting my lawyers or even running around trying to figure out what’s mine, when I lost it, why’d you take it. And you know why?”
“Why?” It sounds like the Jaws of Life had to pry the word from her lips.
“Because what is for me, is for me. I don’t have to worry about somebody stealing it and I don’t have to prove that it is or ever was mine. Even if it begins in the wrong place, with the wrong person, if it’s meant for me, it will find me.” I pause to let that sink in. “ He found me .”
I don’t regret my words in the strained silence that follows. I’m sorry things rolled out like this, but I didn’t do anything wrong.
“My lawyers will send over paperwork to put in writing that you have no claim to the show,” Zere says, her voice stilted. “And that your only interest is as Chapel’s manager. I did let you keep that.”
“You didn’t let me keep that. Chapel and I have a relationship that predates her time on Lewks and will continue beyond this project with you.”
“Whatever, Hendrix.”
“Look, at our big age, I’d hoped we could continue working together like grown women who are about their business, but that’s obviously not happening so I wish you the best.”
“You don’t even get how hurt I am, do you?”
“You’re wrong. I do because I know how much it would hurt if I lost Maverick. I get it and I’m prepared to accept any decision with which you are comfortable. You were the one who introduced lawyers and tried to make me feel like I’ve wronged you, when I know I haven’t. So please don’t think I’m ceding any moral high ground to you because you used to date my boyfriend.”
The word that I toyed with, wasn’t sure I should even use, falls from my lips so easily, as if he’s always been mine. And it feels that way. There is an always-ness to my connection with Maverick, even from the beginning. An evergreen alchemy that may have been waiting since the beginning of time for the right time.
“You’ll regret this,” Zere said. “You want to give up a fantastic opportunity for a man, you go right ahead.”
“This is not the end of my career in television. There will be another show, and I’ll meet that moment just like I do any other that is for me. What I want, I go after, and what I go after, I usually get.”
“I just bet you do. You got Maverick.”
“Oh, I didn’t go after him. He came for me.”
I don’t mean or want to hurt her, but she keeps provoking me and I’m having trouble staying in control and being magnanimous at the same time. I see right through her cellophane confidence to the hurt beneath the jibes, and my heart softens.
“You know, Zere,” I say. “We are both women trying our best and doing big things against the odds. You won’t ever catch me tearing someone else down, especially not another woman, and most especially not another Black one. I don’t want to be at odds with you. I grew up in church, and for the benediction we used to say all hearts and minds clear . I’m telling you that my heart and my mind are clear as relates to you. I hope, in time, we can repair what has been broken between us, but if we never do, I still wish you the best in all things.”
She’s quiet for a moment, and the only sound on the line is a sniff I’m sure she wishes I hadn’t heard.
“Goodbye, Hendrix.”
And the line goes dead.
I sit on the edge of the desk for a moment to do a heart check.
Am I disappointed? For damn sure.
Am I discouraged? I don’t think so.
Am I mad? I don’t know.
One thing I am for sure. Hungry. My stomach is eating itself inside out.
“Lunch,” I mutter, trying to put the conversation behind me. Something else will come. Mama used to say You make the plan. God’ll make the way . We’ll see about that.
The kitchen is empty, two plates abandoned on the table. I frown and look around the room as if for body-snatcher clues. And then a peal of laughter from the backyard draws me to the window.
I’ve witnessed this scene a thousand times. My mama with her gardening gloves out back pulling weeds and planting flowers, her face hidden by a big floppy hat, but I wasn’t sure I’d ever see it again. There she is, though, bending to yank a weed and looking up at the tall man who, in his expensive jeans and his vintage J’s, is clearing bushes and hauling bags of soil from the shed to the plot of land. I wasn’t sure the garden supplies I bought would ever get used, but they are today.
Ignoring my hunger, I walk outside to the garden, smiling widely enough to encompass them both.
“I see you making progress,” I say.
Mama and Maverick both glance up at me, their faces creasing with smiles.
“I figured it was about time I get back,” Mama says.
“We haven’t been out here too long,” Maverick adds. “I promise we’re not overdoing it.”
“Good.” I fold my arms and inspect their work. “Doctor said you’re recovering very well, Mama, but we don’t want you to end up back in the hospital.”
“I’m fine.” Mama waves a dismissive hand. “I’ve let this go too long. You know that Mrs. Mayer so nosy. Always poking her head over my fence in my business. Trying to see what I’m doing. Next time she looks over here, she gon’ see my ranunculus coming back.”
“Your mom said she might even enter them into the floral contest next year,” Maverick says, walking over to me and wrapping one strong arm around my waist. He drops a kiss to my forehead and searches my face. “You good, Gorgeous?”
Heart check.
Do I regret choosing him? Hell, no.
I lean into his arm and let a new peace and fresh acceptance settle over me.
“Never better.”
Later that night, Mama’s upstairs in her room. I’m not sure if she’s asleep because her insomnia is always so bad. Sometimes she walks for hours, but I don’t hear her tonight and I hope she’s at peace. Aunt Geneva ate and praised Mama’s leftovers. Now she’s catching up on Love & Marriage: Huntsville .
Once the house is quiet and night falls, Maverick and I take what’s left of Mama’s sweet potato pecan pie out to the porch and sit on the front step. Our legs are flush together and the pan rests on the curve of our knees.
“I never would have guessed you grew up in a place like this,” Maverick says, scooping out a hunk of pie.
“Like what?” I turn my spoon around on my tongue and tap my head to his. “Country?”
“Charming. Quiet. Small.” He shrugs. “You’re so bold and boisterous and sophisticated.”
“Grounded,” I add. “I always think that I can fly high because I know where I came from. My family are good people, and I may not be all up in church twice a week the way Mama and Aunt G are, but they taught me humility as much as they did confidence. They taught me how to fight and how to find peace.”
“Your mom is pretty fantastic. Your aunt Geneva, too.”
“I wish you could have met my father, and I wish I could have met your mom.”
“I’ve been thinking about that all day, actually.” He balances the pie pan on our knees more securely and links our hands between us. “I also wish I didn’t have to leave tomorrow.”
“It’s only Japan.” I bump his shoulder and smile. “Hop, skip, jump.”
He cups my face and lowers my head to his shoulder, kissing my hair.
“I’ll miss you, Hen.”
His words water my dry places.
“I’ll miss you, too.” I turn my head to catch and hold his gaze. “I talked to Zere today.”
He stiffens, but then relaxes against me, pulling our linked hands up to his lips. “What’d she say?”
“She doesn’t want to work with me.”
A muscle flexes along the line of his jaw and he draws a sharp breath. “I was really hoping she wouldn’t say that.”
“Yeah, so was I, but I think I’m okay with it.”
He studies my face closely. “You are? You resenting me or regretting doing this? Us?”
“If I said yes, would you let me go?”
A smile brackets lines in his lean cheeks. “Hell, no.”
I lean forward to kiss him, hoping the depth, the hunger of it tells him all the things I’m not ready to say. That I’d choose him again and again. That I feel safer with him than any man I’ve ever been with. That when I’m in his arms, even though it’s soon and fast, choosing him feels like choosing me because sometimes I’m not sure where he ends and I begin. I never knew I could be completely my own person and completely someone else’s, but that’s the beautiful dichotomy of being with Maverick.
Are these the things other women thought before they gave too much away? Before they sidelined their ambitions and dreams for a skipped heartbeat? I’ve always guarded against this level of vulnerability, but Maverick makes me want to give him so much because it’s clear how much he wants to give to me. There is a reciprocity to us that’s been missing before.
Maybe when this man says let’s be good to each other , he really means it.