Lovers' Dance

Chapter 21.4

The doorbell was ringing, and whoever was ringing it was keeping their finger on the button. The continuous chime was getting on my nerves.

“Jenny?” I yelled, using my shoulder to wipe the sweat off my forehead. The heat in the kitchen had Auntie Cleo and me perspiring. “Jennifer. Get the door.”

“Keep an eye on those yams, Madi,” Aunt Cleo warned me. I nodded, more concerned with making sure the Cornish hens were browning nicely. I peeked into the other oven. The turkey had an hour to go.

“Yay!” A raucous volley of male voices came from the sitting room. The game was on and Uncle David, his elder brother, his brother-in-law, his four nephews, Jamal and Matt were enjoying ice cold beer.

Uncle David’s younger sister, Gemma, his brother’s wife, Latisha, and his mother, Ms Regina to me, plus the two girlfriends of Latisha’s sons were in the back snug with Jenny. The older women were secretly hoping dinner would bomb. I knew it and my Aunt Cleo knew it, too. Gemma, had brought over a couple of dishes. Cheeky. Rubbing her baby-filled stomach while saying coyly, “I thought I would bring some food just in case.”

I wanted to say, “Just in case what? And why are you still popping babies out?” Her two boys were grown men. Who in their right mind would want to go through all that again?

And Latisha. Oh, how I hated that woman. She had looked at me and said to Ms Regina, “Poor girl must be starving over there in England. Look at that scrawny behind. Why that rich man of hers ain’t fattening her up?”

I would end up killing someone today.

The doorbell kept ringing.

“Argh.” I threw my hands up in the air and wiped my hands on my stained apron before storming for the front door. As I passed through the men in the sitting room, I landed a smack across a few of my cousins’ heads. Technically only Jamal was viewed as my cousin. Uncle David’s nephews were raised to view me as Cleo’s side of the family.

“Doesn’t anyone hear the front door?” I smacked Jamal a second time. He was closest to the door. “Lazy ass—”

“Watch that mouth of yours, young lady,” Uncle David called before letting out a triumphant shout at the TV, which was followed by the other men. Even Matt. I caught his piercing grey eyes and shook my head at him. He beamed at me. Glad someone was enjoying themselves.

“Yes?” I said, yanking the door open to encounter a frowning Ms Patsy. “Oh, hello, Ms Patsy. What can I—”

She bustled past me before I could finish asking why she was on our doorstep, big boobies almost knocking me over.

“Cleo.” She didn’t glance at the men, hopping over outstretched legs and feet.

I hustled after her. She looked as stressed as I felt. I should never have sent Matt’s surprise Thanksgiving dinner to the soup kitchen. I wanted to help the less fortunate but, damn, a part of me was wishing I had told Aunt Cleo to suck it up and be grateful for Matt’s gift.

Instead, I had brushed her hair and begged her to come back downstairs, pleading for her to understand that Matt was trying to earn her favour, and this was his way of trying to help out. She had come downstairs only after she pointed out, several times, how insulted she felt.

“Cleo, oh, girl. My turkey’s burnt,” Ms Patsy wailed. “I left that fool of my husband to keep an eye on it. One thing. One thing I ask him to do and he doesn’t do it.”

I had stopped in the hallway from the moment she had shouted about the burnt turkey. Oh, hell, no. Taking slow steps, I moved towards the kitchen to hear my aunt saying like a benevolent queen, “Why don’t you two join us? We have more than enough food to go around.”

I leaned heavily against the wall, feeling like I did this morning. Like a heart attack was imminent. Why? Why would she invite the street’s gossip over? I was now suspecting Ms Patsy had burnt her turkey on purpose. No self-respecting black woman was going to let her turkey burn. This was a set up. I was being set up.

“Poppet? Are you okay?” Matt was coming towards me with a beer in his hand. It looked empty.

I blinked a few times. “No, yes, I’m fine, Matt.”

“Are you certain?” he asked as he scrutinized my face. “You look a touch peaky.”

“I’m fine,” I said, this time with surety. “Are you okay is the more pertinent question. Is everyone being nice to you? Tell me if anyone is being assy and I’ll sort it.”

Matt slipped his hand behind my nape and bent down to steal a kiss. “If I can handle dealing with the department of energy back home, I think it’s suffice to say I can handle your family.”

I chewed my lower lip in pensive thought. “But you’re outnumbered in there. I mean, don’t you feel uncomfortable?”

Matt rolled his eyes. He’d been doing that a lot more now than at the beginning of our relationship. My mannerisms were rubbing off on him.

“Why would I be uncomfortable, poppet?” he asked dryly.

“Don’t make me say it,” I grumbled.

“No,” he said, with traces of amusement in his voice. “Let’s hear it. Tell me why you think I would be uncomfortable.”

I exhaled noisily through my nose. “Because you’re the only white spot on a black page. Idiot.”

Matt stared at me for a second, then started to laugh.

“Shush,” I chastised.

“Oh, poppet, I swear,”—he stole another kiss—“I did not know true humour until I met you. Absolutely delightful you are.”

“I’m glad you find me funny.” The sharp retort on the tip of my tongue got put on hold when Ms Patsy popped back into the hallway. She caught sight of me and Matt, and her face shone with pleasure.

She had set this up. Low down, no good—

“Hello again, Matthew,” she said, coming towards us.

Matt turned with a polite smile on his face. He had turned against the wall, his tight ass hidden from Ms Patsy’s hands.

“Hello and Happy Thanksgiving, by the way,” he said.

“Same to you.” She patted me on the cheek as she passed by. “I’ll be seeing you two in an hour’s time. I can’t wait to be seated around the table with everyone. We’ll have a nice catch up, Madison, and you can tell me all about this hunk of yours.”

My poor hunk was having his own cheeks squished. He looked like he was seconds away from giving Ms Patsy a stern telling off for invading his personal space. I had to do something.

“I’ll walk you out.” I grabbed her arm and sashayed her out of the house. I ignored the chorus of requests for more beer on my way to the kitchen. Matt was there, asking Aunt Cleo if there was anything he could do to assist her. A tight-lipped no was his answer. I touched his hand as we passed each other and mouthed “love you” to him. Then, it was back to cooking.

Uncle David’s mom and sister kept popping into the kitchen, getting underfoot and making nice-but-not-really-nice comments to Aunt Cleo. When Latisha stationed herself by the door leading out back, I knew it was a matter of time before tempers became frayed. I prayed the food would be done by then and people would be too busy eating to argue.

Thanksgiving was like a warm-up run to Christmas, and everyone knew the drama that came with Christmas. Too much alcohol loosening too many tongues. A sharp comment here that leads to a potential fight. I hoped this warm-up was peaceful.

“—thinks she’s too good for us now,” I overheard coming from the snug.

I had been on my way to the back of the house where the extra-long table that had been used to lay the food out for last night’s party was now being dressed for our meal. I paused outside the partially open door, clutching the lace tablecloth Auntie Cleo had instructed me to put down.

“—nothing more than a glorified hoe.”

That couldn’t be me being referred to? It couldn’t. Then I heard Jenny’s voice joining in.

“You know he’s gonna leave her ass for a white girl.”

They laughed. More of a cackle, like hyenas. I kicked the door open with my foot, tablecloth clutched in my arms, as I glared at Jenny and the two girlfriends of Latisha’s sons sipping wine.

“Excuse me?” My voice was higher than normal. “I know you’re not talking about me in here.”

They looked startled for a second before they smirked amongst themselves.

“Girl, we’re keeping it real,” Rashid’s girlfriend said. I think her name was Sharon, maybe Shonda.

“Who are you again? You don’t know me so don’t talk about my business like it’s yours.”

“Madi, chill out,” Jenny drawled, getting up from the chair she’d been curled in.

“Don’t tell me to ‘chill out’, Jen,” I snarled. “I’m your blood. Why the hell are you talking about me with these strangers?”

“Stranger?” The other one—I couldn’t remember her name—said, “Who is she calling a stranger? We’re part of this family—”

“Oh, shut up,” I retorted.

“Don’t tell her to shut up,” Sharon, or Shonda, exclaimed. “Your business is out there anyway. Rashid’s shown me that stuff on the Internet—”

“Are you intellectually challenged?” I interrupted with my polite version of calling her dumb. “Did you not hear me? You don’t know me, so keep your two cents to yourself.”

“Jenny, you’d better talk to your cousin, ’cos she’s pressing on my nerve,” the other one said. “Just because you’ve got a rich white man you think you better than us? Girl, you black, that ain’t gonna change. He’s only fucking you for a taste of black pussy,” she sneered.

I dropped the lacy tablecloth. “I am not a violent person, but keeping talking that shit and I will wipe the floor with your face.”

Jenny rolled her eyes, coming over to pick the tablecloth off the ground. “Stop being a drama queen, Madi. You know you can’t fight. They’re entitled to their opinions.”

I looked at her. How could she be blasé about this? Well, if she wouldn’t have my back, I wouldn’t have hers. I turned on my heels and headed for the stairs. I was fuming. And, God forbid, feeling spiteful. It didn’t help I’d been drinking a bit of wine as we cooked. Inside the room I was sharing with Jenny, I searched frantically for that little piece of paper.

There it was. I snatched the cheque from the dresser and stormed out the room. I bumped into Jamal and another cousin named Leon on my way to the snug.

“Madi, can you help bring in more beer?” Jamal asked. I ignored him as I drew nearer to the snug where my disloyal cousin was.

“What’s wrong with that girl?” Leon muttered.

When I got to the snug, the three of them were still there. I stood in the doorway, gaze landing on Jenny’s face, and held the cheque up. Her eyes widened immediately as she recognized what was in my hand.

“Madi? What are you—” she started, running over to where I stood.

I tore it in half and she screamed. Then I tore the two halves into quarters and tore those into eights for good measure.

I flung the pieces over her shaking form. “Let them help you out, seeing as you’re tight and they’re family.”

“Mom!” Jenny started yelling at the top of her voice, tears building in her light-brown eyes.

I froze, my previous spitefulness being replaced by nervousness. Oh, shit. This was going to be bad.

“Ma!” Jenny screamed, bending down to pick up the pieces of her dream that lay scattered on the floor.

There were feet thundering towards us. Aunt Cleo came with half the horde behind her.

“What? Why are you yelling the house down, Jen?” she asked, pushing me aside. I started stepping away. If I slipped away unnoticed, I could run upstairs and write out a new cheque.

“Madi tore up my tuition cheque,” Jenny wailed. “She tore it up, Mom.”

Aunt Cleo turned. I had already put a bit of distance between me and the people crowding around Jenny.

“Madison, did you do that?” Aunt Cleo asked, incredulous.

I opened my mouth, but nothing came out as numerous eyes stared at me. I kept backing away until I bumped into someone. The scent made me aware it was Matt.

“What’s going on?” he asked, spinning me around to face him.

“She tore up my cheque,” Jenny blubbered. Her grandma was patting her back while Aunt Cleo stared at me in shock.

“I—she—I didn’t—” I stammered, unable to think with those accusing looks being sent my way.

“What cheque?” Gemma asked, coming out last from the kitchen.

“My tuition cheque,” Jenny said between her sobs. “She said she would pay for it and I was supposed to start at Columbia in January.”

“Poppet,” Matt murmured quietly. “Did you tear up the cheque?”

I nodded slowly.

Everyone started talking over each other, and Aunt Cleo started leading her sobbing daughter down the hallway towards the front room. She shot me a disappointed look when passing by and my heart sank.

“Someone always have to start a drama on the holidays,” someone said in disgust. I think it was Latisha.

I shrank back against Matt as they marched into the sitting room to comfort the inconsolable Jenny. I don’t know why she was still carrying on. She knew I would write her another cheque. I wasn’t the drama queen, she was.

“Poppet.” Matt rubbed my back in slow circles.

“I should go in there and apologize,” I said in a small voice before moving away from his comforting touch. He followed me into the sitting room. I tugged on my beige sweater dress, noticing the small stain by my stomach. Must be gravy. Jenny was wailing, surrounded by an outpouring of concerned relatives. She had always been the favourite, she was my favourite, too.

“Jenny, I—” I began when Ms Regina, the woman who wouldn’t let me call her grandma, started in on me.

“How you gonna make my Jenny cry like this? On Thanksgiving to boot.” She wagged a finger at me. She looked like a frail old woman, but her tongue was sharp. She unleashed that sharpness on me. “You’d better write her a new cheque for her studies. Tearing up her cheque and breaking your word like that. You said you would pay—”

“Now, wait a minute,” Matt interjected in a calm voice.

“Hey, man, this is family business.” Uncle David’s brother jumped in, followed by a few low murmurs of agreement.

“It’s the least you can do,” Ms Regina continued as Jenny sobbed in Aunt Cleo’s arms. Uncle David was patting her shoulder while Jamal looked on as he bit into an apple. He would spoil his dinner if he kept on snacking.

“I beg your pardon?” Matt queried in a shocked voice. “The least she could do? What is that supposed to mean?”

“It’s okay, Matt,” I muttered quickly. I didn’t want them turning on him.

Ms Regina didn’t like being questioned. She pushed her glasses up her nose and peered at Matt and me. “What? You think food and board is free? She owes this family. My son took her in.”

And that opened the flood gates. Everyone wanted to have their say. I stood there, silent as a stone, and let their comments wash over me. Matt kept his hand on my lower back while they voiced their unwanted opinions about me, about each other. Not only was it humiliating to have Matt present as it occurred, but I blamed myself for being the spark to ignite the flame that was consuming a peaceful Thanksgiving. I should have ignored the conversation in the snug. For a quarter of an hour, there were raised voices, snide name calling and general mayhem. I couldn’t get a word in edgewise, and all I wanted to do was say sorry to stop Jenny’s tears. I would write her a new cheque and explain it was the stress of being in the kitchen and worrying about Thanksgiving that had made me rip up the cheque.

Then Jenny, sobbing, had looked over at me with hate in her eyes as she said, “Ma was right about you. You’re a troublemaker like your mom was. Stirring up shit all the time. You want to see me fail. You’ve always been jealous of me. Always thinking you were better than us. Well, you’re not and screwing some rich white man won’t change that. You’re ungrateful. If my parents didn’t have to take care of you for all those years, they would’ve paid for me to go to college themselves.”

Each word she uttered felt like a blade to my heart. What hurt more was the lack of response from Aunt Cleo and Uncle David. I guess…I guess I couldn’t expect any support from them. She was their only daughter after all, and I was not.

Matt’s touch on my back fell away. He pulled his cell out and made a call.

“I want you out front. Now,” he commanded, before hanging up and slipping his phone back into his pocket. Then his tone softened as he said, “Go get your stuff, poppet. We’re leaving.”

I tilted my head upwards in order to see his face. He gave me a small smile and gestured towards the door.

“She’s not going with you.” Gemma jumped in. “This is family business.”

A chorus of muted mhmms followed her statement.

“Family,” Matt said, with a coldness that silenced the room. “You people have no idea what that word means.” He looked at my aunt and uncle. “I’ve watched the way you treated Madi these past few days and it’s appalling, bordering on emotional torment. That’s not family. You took her in when her parents died, something many people would say is noble.” His face hardened into a haughty mask. “What you’ve done for her is not noble. Do you think giving her a roof over her head absolves you from the emotional starvation you’ve subjected her to? She looks to you for constant affirmation that she belongs, and you deny her that. She doesn’t owe any of you a bloody thing.” Matt scoffed at Jenny. “And you should get a job, not expect your cousin to pay your way. If you want to make something of yourself, then work for it like she’s done. You’re spoilt, and you need to grow up.”

That caused an eruption of “Who the hell does he think he is?” interspersed with “Damn fool thinks he can talk to us like that.”

Matt’s jaw clenched, his face was deep red with anger. He looked at me and repeated, “Get your stuff, Madi.”

Everyone fell silent. I blinked, looking at my aunt. It was fucked up, but she was the closest thing I had to a mother.

“I can’t, Matt.”

The colour drained from his face. “Poppet—”

I shook my head, tears brimming over. “I can’t, Matt.”

“Madi, if you don’t come with me now—” He broke off, not needing to finish his sentence. His warning. Matt held a hand out to me. If I didn’t take his hand, we would be over. I could see that in his eyes. I could see him silently willing me to put my hand in his.

“I can’t,” I whispered, and Matt’s hand fell to his side.

His throat bobbed up and down for a moment, then his beautiful grey eyes lost all emotion as he said, “Since the first moment I met you, I have never been ashamed of you. Today I am.”

Of all the things that had been said to me, that hurt the most. I wanted to explain why I couldn’t leave but my mouth stayed shut.

Matt shook his head slowly, then moved to the front door. The force he slammed it shut with once he walked out shook the walls. Moments later, the screech of rubber burning asphalt was heard. My knight was gone.

Everyone started talking at once, making vile comments about Matt. My eyes found Aunt Cleo’s.

It was time to cut the apron strings.

“I would like a word with my family,” I said quietly. I don’t think they heard me, so I raised my voice and said, “If you don’t live here, get the hell out of the sitting room.”

“This girl has lost her mind,” Latisha said.

I walked over to the door leading out the sitting room and held it ajar. I was shaking, my whole body was shaking. “Get out. Get out. Get out.”

They must have seen the wild look on my face, because everyone made a beeline for the door I held open. Until the five of us remained. Jenny was sniffling as I closed the door on the relatives hanging out in the hallway. Nosy-ass bastards.

I inhaled deeply and looked at the people who had taken me into their home when I had no home to call my own.

“Do you love me?” I asked quietly.

Uncle David sent me a confused look. “What on earth? Madison, what’s wrong with you? Cussing in front your aunt like that—”

“Do you love me?” I yelled, eyes fixed on Aunt Cleo. “Because I don’t think you do.” The tears were spilling out now. “I don’t think you ever did. I’m a burden, aren’t I? The little orphan that you never wanted. I have done everything you’ve ever asked of me and it’s never enough. Did you hate her that much, Auntie Cleo? Did you hate my mother so much that you couldn’t find it in your heart to love her daughter like your own? What did she ever do to you? What have I ever done to you but try to make you happy?” My nose was streaming now. “I don’t owe you jack shit. None of you. Whatever costs you may have incurred for the time I lived here has been paid. Twice over. What? You think I didn’t know you sold their house, Auntie Cleo? I knew. I saw the papers when I was twelve. And I moved out when I was eighteen—”

“Yeah,” Jenny sneered. “As soon as you got that inheritance you—”

“Shut the hell up, Jenny,” I grated out. “I’m talking to your mother.” I turned back to a shocked Auntie Cleo. “I worked while I attended dance school. I gave you money for bills when I didn’t live here anymore. I did it all because you’re my family, the only family I have left. But you don’t love me. You can’t possibly love me because, if you did, you would have welcomed Matt with open arms. If you loved me, you would have done every single thing in your power to ensure I knew I was wanted, that I was cherished, that I wasn’t alone in this world. Matt does that. He loves me. And I’ve sent him away to spare your goddamned pride. So he wouldn’t be here when I told you all to get fucked.” I wiped a trembling hand across my face and stalked towards the sitting room door.

“Where are you going?” Auntie Cleo finally found her voice.

I turned, doorknob in hand. “Upstairs. To get my stuff.”

She looked at me and I held her gaze. Did she ever love me?

“If you leave this house today, Madison, you won’t ever be welcomed back. If you walk out my door today, as God as my witness, we’ll be finished,” she said in a raw voice.

I couldn’t stop the sound of pain. I swiped at my tears, nodding.

“I know, Auntie Cleo, I know. I’m going upstairs now.”

I opened the door, coming face to face with Uncle David’s nosy family members. Without glancing at them, I made my way toward the stairs. I couldn’t stop crying as I sorted my cases out. After using the phone on Jenny’s bedside table to call a taxi, I rolled my suitcases out of the room. There was one more thing that had to be taken. The voices coming from downstairs were loud. I ignored what was being said about me. Once I’d opened the access to the attic, I went up to get my box of memories.

Ten minutes later, I was in the sitting room with my box and cases. I checked I had my passport, purse, cell and iPad in my knapsack, and I opened the front door.

“Madi,” Aunt Cleo called from the doorway of the sitting room. “I mean it. If you walk out that door—”

“I can’t come back home,” I finished for her. “I know. I’ll always love you, Aunt Cleo, for taking me in. That won’t change.” I wiped the tears dripping from my chin. “But I can’t do this anymore. Goodbye.”

“Where are you going to go?” she called out. “To that man? He’ll throw you away, Madi. You wait and see. You’ll see his kind is exactly like I’ve told you all these years. You’re choosing that man over your family and, when he’s done using you, don’t come crying to me.”

I nodded, shuffling one of my cases out the door. “This has nothing to do with Matt and, don’t worry, I won’t come crying to you. And, for the record, Matt is my family. With him I’m home.” I dragged the other case out. “So it doesn’t matter if I’m not welcomed here anymore because, wherever he is, that will be my home. Goodbye.”

Goddamned holidays…

>>>

Matt was perplexed. He was certain the volume of pain he felt couldn’t grow any further, yet it did. He still functioned. The brief conversation he had with Ryan about his itinerary could attest to that. He was breathing, a tad difficult due to the crushing weight in his chest which had no physical cause to lay blame to, but still breathing. And his reflection in the tinted window was a relaxed one. But when would it end? This gnawing pain swelling inside him. This dark desire to rage at any and everything, to inflict pain on someone else to ease his own…to hurt…her.

He inhaled deeply, unfurling his hands from the fists he’d unconsciously formed. How could she? How could she stay when she needed to go? Did she not see those people didn’t love her? How could she not see it? He took another deep breath, cursing himself for worrying about her. Even now, after she’d practically ripped his heart out by her refusal to walk out of that bloody house with him, even now he wanted to protect her from them.

Why wouldn’t the pain stop? It was debilitating. Matt frowned at his reflection. Weak, loving her had made him weak. He had broken his own rule and let her into the secret recesses of his heart. His sweet, dark beauty had done what no one else could boast of. She had broken his heart. He never wanted to see Madison DuMont again.