Chapter 56 Sign
Sign
“So, how was the honeymoon?” Mommy asks while preparing dinner.
It has been two days, just two days since I officially became Mrs. Jacobs, and I’m still getting used to it.
I peek into the oven to check if the baked Macaroni and Cheese is ready, feeling my mom’s gaze on me. I try to dodge her question. Should I reveal how Nickoi rearranged…. I mean, how him angle me?
Her hands rest on her hips, and she wears a knowing smile. “Mi already know wah happen, member say mi did get married. Mi just wah hear it from you.”
I smile shyly and place the container of macaroni and cheese on the counter. They look so moist, delicious, and the aroma is heavenly.
“Can the babies try this?” I ask, curiously.
“Of course, mek it cool a little,” she replies.
Shortly after, Kace joins us. He gives her a quick peck on the cheek before reaching for an Irish Moss from the fridge. My eyes drift to my babies, who are cooing to each other as if they’re sharing secrets.
I snap a picture and send it to their dad.
“Zara, how are you doing?” Kace asks, and I glance at him. He lifts the drink to his mouth, gulping it down before sitting on the stool. At his height, he doesn’t even need to climb.
“Not bad. How about you?”
“I’m hungry,” he says, eyeing my mom, who chuckles. I redirect my attention to my babies to distract myself. The kitchen falls silent, with only the bubbling pots on the stove and the fridge humming in the background. It feels awkward.
“What’s your job?” I inquire.
“I’m an Orthopedic doctor,” he replies with a smug grin.
“You specialize in the musculoskeletal system? That’s cool,” I smile. That really is impressive.
“I’ve never met one,” I add.
He grabs an apple and hands it to my mom. “Wash this for me, please.” She takes it, washes it, and returns it to him.
“Thank you, love,” he says, biting into the apple while I focus on my nails, tapping them on the counter.
“Yes, I have a passion for bones, ligaments, and tendons,” he continues in a goofy tone, minus the smile. He doesn’t seem to smile in person.
I guess.
“Cool,” I respond.
What’s with this sudden use of the word ‘cool’ that you never used before?
As he chews his apple, I watch my mother concentrating on the pots in front of her. “You teach Literature too, aside from English Language?” he asks, surprising me. This man is full of surprises.
“Yes, I do, mostly English Language. Many students didn’t choose Literature this year,” I explain, and he nods. Mommy must have told him a lot about me since he already knows the subjects I teach.
I smile at her.
She beams back at me, checking the steak while humming a tune. She seems especially happy. Is it because I’m getting along with my ‘stepfather’?
“Zara, your husband… Nickoi, what’s his occupation?” Kace asks with an odd tone. Is he judging him? Why is he asking about him? Anyway, let me brag about my knight in shining armor.
I smile proudly, “He’s an entrepreneur. He owns a club, a car mart, and he’s working on starting something new soon.” I’m not entirely sure what babe is up to, but I assume it’s another business. Kace’s expression shifts; he seems impressed yet surprised.
“Wow, that’s a lot! I didn’t see that in him,” he remarks.
Yeah, because you’re judging him.
“Oh,” I respond simply.
“He’s like 22? How is he so successful?” he asks. His questions are a bit strange.
“He’s 25 and he’s the heir,” I clarify.
“Oh, so how did you meet him?” he probes. I wonder what project he’s working on.
Why so many questions?
I notice how engaged he is while asking about my man, and it feels weird.
“How we met?” I repeat, my mind drifting back to that night. We thought we wouldn’t make it through. It was an eventful evening, from being chased and shot at to Nickoi calling my phone to see me again. Then denying the fact that he wanted me.
This is a sensitive topic, especially with a man who seems highly critical, like the 21-year-old Zara.
“We met in a taxi,” I say with an innocent smile. It’s partly true; I was in Mr. Perry’s taxi.
“Nick did take a taxi too?” Mommy asks, surprised.
“N-no, he was driving, and then Mr. Perry’s tire burst and—” she interrupts me.
“He came to fix the tire. Hey! Nickoi is a good bwoy enuh,” she chuckles, glancing back at the stove.
I smile awkwardly. “Yes.”
“I met your mom at the subway station,” he shares with me.
Okay…
She smiles at him. “When you sat down and were watching me while reading this big ol’ newspaper that you know damn well you never wanted to read.”
Mommy is smitten. She has the same sparkle in her eyes that Nickoi has when he looks at me. Wow, Daddy really is too late. He should have stepped up.
“I was watching you while pretending to read,” he admits with a shy smile.
Oh, he’s smiling now? Good to know. Maybe I’m the problem. Maybe he just doesn’t like me.
“That’s really nice,” I reply simply, watching them reminisce about their euphoric moments.
NICKOI
Denique’s been guiding me through the whole process. Her eyes linger on me when she thinks I’m not looking. Her smile stretches a little too long for just business. Every time she talks about the land, it’s like she’s seeing more than just property.
Every gyal want yuh enuh, my subconscious whispers.
True. But a only one woman mi want.
We know this.
We’ve completed all the necessary land assessments. The location is perfect, and everything seems to be falling into place. She informs me that we’re down to the final document, but her tone changes.
“One signature is still needed.”
I lean in. “Who needs to sign it if Rodriguez is dead?”
She begins typing and dialing. I glance down at the video Zara sent of the babies playing, and warmth fills my chest. I quickly reply with two red hearts.
Then Denique’s voice pulls me back.
“He died?” she asks softly into the phone. “When?”
Silence hangs heavily between us. After a long pause, she hangs up, her face drained of color. “I had no idea… he was murdered,” she whispers, reaching for a tissue as if she has just received the news herself.
I try not to seem indifferent, but how could she not know that her business partner was murdered five years ago? Still, I let her speak. She starts reminiscing about how good he was, and with each word, my stomach twists. There’s something familiar in her tone, something familiar about the name.
“But there’s one more person who can sign… his niece.” I look up, maintaining my composure.
“Who is she?”
“Nathalia Perez.”
My blood runs cold.
Talia?
Nah, mi cyaa believe this.
Look how much shit me been through wid har…
Given our history… mi nah get that shit.
Denique’s brows pulling closer. “Do you know her?”
I shake my head. “No. I’ve just heard the name.”
“She’s a public figure, a beautiful girl. Sweet too. She’ll enjoy working with someone like you.”
If only she knew the backstory. The trauma. The stains I’ve left on that girl’s life.
“She lives in Mexico now,” she continues, but I can barely hear the rest. My mind races. Talia doesn’t have to sign this. I’ve come too far. But deep down, I know she won’t. Not for me.
I try to keep my composure. “And if she signs it, I’m good?”
Denique nods. “Document finalized. The land is yours.”
I scratch my head, lost in thought.
How do I even approach her? I sent her away like a stray dog. I killed her father. She’s probably still haunted by my face. I can’t ask her for a favor.
But I need this land. I need it desperately. I start sinking into my own thoughts.
Nickoi, this isn’t like you. You always find a way.
I take a deep breath.
No, I won’t give up. Not like this. Even if I feel desperate. Even if I feel vulnerable.
Denique stands, smoothen her skirt, and offers her hand. “Don’t worry. You’ll get that land. I can feel it.”
I force a smile and shake her hand. “Thanks, Denique.” Even if it doesn’t work out. I don’t say that part out loud.