Chapter 23 Pleasure
Pleasure
“Lawd God Almighty… Look how mi coulda deh yah and hear say man kidnap mi granddaughter, Jesus,” Mama cries out the minute I finish telling her the story. Well the PG version. The real details? Absolutely not.
Some things affi stay unsaid. If mi tell Mama everything, hospital woulda pick har up.
She sinks deeper into the sofa with a heavy sigh, her brows tight with worry.
The guilt grabs at my chest. This is exactly why mi did hesitate to tell har.
Mi never wah mek she worry. But mi couldn’t hide it either.
Not from Mama. She knew something went down the minute I stepped in the house, and she wouldn’t stop until mi talk.
Yuh never had a choice.
“Hard ears pickney nyam rock stone, enuh,” she mutters, shaking her head. “A God protect yuh… memba mi tell yuh dat. An yuh see why yuh fi listen when mi chat to yuh now? Look how much time mi warn yuh fi tan a yuh yaad.” She sighs again, and I nod slow. Because she’s right. I’m a little stubborn.
A little? Girl… yuh fully stubborn.
“I’m sorry, Mama. But mi nuh wah yuh worry bout it no more,” I say gently, handing her a small plate with sliced bun and cheese.
She said she felt “peckish,” and when a Jamaican parent says that, just know dem hungry. Real hungry. “Thanks,” she says, taking the plate.
I nod and slide in beside her on the couch. I break off a piece of the bun and cheese and start nibbling while we both zone in on the African soap opera playing on the TV.
“Wah this name again?” I ask, eyes glued to the screen.
She chews, then answers: “Generation.”
I nod, chuckling. “Yeh man, a true.”
I was never a fan of soap operas but growing up, every TV in Mama’s house had one playing. And somehow… today, it feel kinda comforting. Dem nuh bad.
I hear a car engine rumbling outside, and I look up just in time to spot a black Honda pulling up at the gate. Who dat? Mama glances up too, her brows folding the same way mine do. Clearly, we’re both thinking the same thing.
Then we see him. Our faces light up. “Nuh bother run and hide, it’s just me,” Gavin laughs, stepping up onto the porch.
We meet him halfway, grinning. “Mi have questions,” I say, eyeing him then the car with suspicion.
“Ask away, darling dear, cause mi ready fi answer every one,” he says in a joking tone, and Mama and I both laugh.
Gavin. Gavin. Gavin. “Weh yuh get car?” Mama asks first, tilting her head.
“Yeah, weh yuh get car from?” I echo. Because seriously, where?
“Member mi tell yuh mi woulda learn the craft?” he says, eyebrows raised.
What craft? Scamming?
No sah. Could never. I laugh out loud. “Mi know yuh joking.”
He chuckles. “A joke, man. A joke.” He walks over to Mama, shaking his head. “But Zara… when mi tell yuh who own this car, yuh a go pred out a grung,” he grins before turning back to Mama.
A probably Uncle car… nuh mek him trick yuh.
“But hear yah,” Mama smiles, now fully seated in her chair, playing along.
“Tell mi nuh,” I urge, curiously watching him unzip his bag. “Curiosity a kill mi enuh, Gavin.”
“Yuh a mussy cat,” he fires back, laughing as Mama joins in.
I clutch my imaginary pearl. “Mi hate yuh.”
Still laughing, he hands Mama a small bag. “Daddy send this fi yuh. But mi affi leave now cause the car still on. Mi just run out fi pick up some groceries fi Mommy.” So him a leave? Quick and spicy visit.
“Alright, thanks. Mi will call Rohan and mek him know say mi get it,” Mama says, accepting the package.
“Cool,” Gavin replies, then turns to me with a grin. “A Sash car enuh,” he adds, voice dipped with a giggle. I blink. Sash?
Before I can react, he’s hopping back in the car, and just as he pulls the door shut, he tosses me a look and calls out in a high-pitched voice, “Tea later!” I burst out laughing.
Woiie… this sound big!
“Who fa car him say?” Mama asks.
“Sash,” I repeat, just as my phone starts ringing from inside. I rush into the living room to grab it. Mrs. Adams.
“Hey Zara, how are you? I’m so sorry I couldn’t make it to your graduation, but the pictures you sent were lovely. You deserve everything. Congratulations again.” I smile.
“Awww, thank you for being so sweet, Mrs. Adams.” I beam, and Mama settles onto the sofa beside me.
“Always, love,” she says, the sound of her shifting around coming through the phone. “I have good news for you though.”
Really? “Okay,” I reply, smiling.
“So I was speaking with the board about you, and I told them about your performance. They were impressed, so they agreed to let you work at St. Jago. It works perfectly since they need teachers in the Language department. If you’re interested, let me know so we can get the contract ready. ” Wow. Of course mi interested.
Girl a get work!
“Um… of course. That sounds good. Thank you!” I say with a smile, though that’s nowhere near how I really want to react. Mi wah scream. Mi wah jump. Mi wah bawl…
Yuh wah everything.
Prada you! my subconscious says, hyping me up.
Mrs. Adams chuckles. “You would start working January, though, so let us know soon so the process can run off quickly.” Jeez. So easy, huh?
Yuh blessed enuh, girl!
“I’m interested,” I say, doing my best to keep calm. I’m bubbling with excitement, but mi affi keep the thing professional. I’m really happy though… mi deserve this. You do!
“Okay, lovely. So happy you are,” she says. Wait… what about the baby though?
Oh yeah… the baby.
“I didn’t get to tell you this, but I’m pregnant, so I don’t know if it’ll affect anything,” I say, a little unsure now. The excitement dips. Don’t worry.
“No, that’s no issue. The decision is up to you, whether you want to wait until after the baby, or start now and take maternity leave. But it’s no problem at all,” she assures me. Great!
“Okay, I’ll talk to my boyfriend about it and let you know what I’ll work with,” I say, and Mama smiles beside me.
Yuh mean yuh fiancé.
“Okay, no problem. And congratulations on your new bundle of joy. I’m really proud of you,” she adds, and I smile.
“Thank you.”
“Alright, let me know what decision you’re working with later.”
“Yes… bye.” I hang up and find Mama still smiling at me.
“What you think I should do?” I ask her.
“Work now, man, and go on the maternity leave when you a go have the baby. Being active is good,” Mama says.
“Okay.” I nod. I like that too.
Mi a go ask Nickoi wah him think though.
I stay in the living room with her for almost an hour before heading to my room when I got tired of watching the TV. After showering and changing into a soft pink polo dress, I lie on the bed and drift off to sleep.
“Mami?” he shakes me gently, voice sliding into my ear like velvet. I smile.
“Mami?” Nickoi says again, and I curl into his chest, my arms slipping around his waist.
My lips find his, slow and searching. His scent, fresh, woody, warm fills my lungs like something I never want to let go of. The view behind him is unreal. Paris. The Eiffel Tower lit up like a promise. The city looks like it’s holding its breath for us. Damn. I really love this man. Zara… wake up.
He kisses me again this one realer, hungrier and I lean into it, sighing through my smile. He shakes me again, more playful now.
I blink up at him with a blank face and mumble, “Stop shake me nuh.” He laughs, full belly and soft eyes.
Wait… That laugh sound too real. I open my eyes slowly.
There he is. Nickoi. Towering over me, full smile on his face.
His skin glows against the sunlight sliding through the curtains.
My heart flips. Without thinking, I pounce.
Legs around his waist. Arms locking around his neck.
Lips crashing into his in real-time. Not the dream version.
This is better, sloppier, wetter, messier.
He laughs into my mouth, holding me like he need me just as bad. “Mi couldn’t survive another day without you here with me. I love you,” I say against his lips, still clinging to him like my life depends on it.
His arms tighten. One hand finds the back of my thigh, the other gripping me low and firm.
His voice is low, like he dragged it from the pit of his chest just for me.
“Mi love yuh too.” It’s the rasp in his voice for me.
The way it sinks into my skin, coils between my legs. Sends a chill in all the right places.
“Mi did miss yuh enuh, Mami,” he murmurs into my neck, lips barely brushing my skin. I tilt my head, eyes fluttering, waiting. Needing. But he’s teasing. Lips hovering, not touching.
What are you doing to me?
He stares straight into me. That look. Serious. Focused. My breath catches. He eases us down onto the bed so I’m straddling him, dress riding high on my thighs. My heartbeat skips.
His lips drift to my ear and he whispers— “When mi tell yuh seh mi love yuh… mi mean it.” His voice is cold. Possessive. Beautifully dangerous. I nod, breathless.
“Yuh get me?” he asks.
I nod again. “I get you.”
But that’s not enough for him. His hand finds my wrist, grips a little tighter. Not to hurt, but to remind me that he’s not playing.
“Words,” he commands. Damn… chills run from my scalp to my navel.
“M-mi know yuh mean it,” I whisper, trying to breathe through the heat. Though his eyes are on me, dark and unreadable. Then I see it. That look. He’s mad.
“You mad at me?” I ask softly, already knowing the answer.
His silence sharpens everything. His eyes cold like steel, but burning underneath make me shudder. “Very,” he says, his voice like ice dragged over fire. I gulp and suddenly, I don’t know if I want to run or let him ruin me completely.
“Mi nuh wah lose yuh,” he says, voice steady, hand sliding around my neck.
Even though his grip is firm, even though everything about him right now is giving angry, it’s… attractive. Dangerous in a way that doesn’t scare me it pulls me in.
“And mi nah lose yuh either,” he continues, eyes locked on mine. “So mi a go say this one more time and a the last time yuh a go hear mi say it.”