Chapter 2 #2
Two weeks into the new year, and things were still off to a lackluster start. After being accosted by my brothers-in-law about an arranged marriage, I was currently dealing with a bit of what I could only refer to as seasonal depression. The dreariness of January was already weighing on me—already making me crave a vacation when I had just gotten back from one.
“This year is sucking already,” I moaned.
Jianna gave me a sympathetic smile as she cut both pancakes and sausages into bite size pieces for my nephew, Gianpaolo, who we called Gio and my nieces, Giada and Ginelle.
“Give it a chance to get started, Juli. I mean, we’re only two weeks into January.”
“And so far, it already sucks.”
“Yeah.”
She set a plate down in front of my four-year-old nephew, and then his three-year-old sister, who were at the wooden dining table in their booster chairs. She then walked over to thirteen-month-old Ginelle and placed a few pieces of pancake and sausage onto the tray of the high chair.
“But still, there’s a lot of year left for it to turn around. You want some breakfast?”
“Nah.”
I watched my sister move around her kitchen. Of my two sisters, I was closest to Jianna. Part of that was simply because we were closest in age. She was four years old when I was born, Jia was ten. Jia was out of the house and married to Langston before I’d even finished elementary school. We didn’t have a lot of time to get to know each other before she left home. Besides that, Jia was naturally bossy and controlling. I was naturally defiant and oppositional. Jia and I bumped heads a lot. I loved and respected her, but I was definitely closer to Jianna.
The thing about Jianna was that she was a certified genius. Her brain power and abilities were way above average, but she was very down to Earth, and she really wasn’t judgy. I just loved her.
“You look very comfortable doing your whole domestication thing. You seem okay with giving up the time you used to use for acquiring untold knowledge to mother your kids.”
We both giggled.
“Forget you, Juli. I love raising my kids.” She rubbed her non-existent pregnant stomach. “But I still make time to acquire untold knowledge. Just not as much.” She finished fixing a plate for herself then sat down one chair away from me. “We didn’t get to talk on New Year’s Eve. Tell me about Christmas in Iredia.”
“Christmas in Iredia was good. It was like it wasn’t even Christmas there. It felt more like summer. All I did was lay on the beach, sip cocktails, talk with my therapist as needed, and relax.”
“So, you didn’t miss us at all? We missed you.” She huffed out a heavy sigh. “It’s hard making new memories for a holiday that already has so many memories attached to it. But you know what’s even harder?”
“What?”
“Trying to do it while one of the integral members of your family is purposely pulling away.”
She was staring at me. Her eyes were soft and probing. It was like she could see into my soul. Since it seemed like she could read my thoughts anyway, I just went ahead and shared them with her.
“The holiday season, from Thanksgiving to New Year's Day, makes me feel like I’m drowning. I would love to make new memories with you guys. I would love to bake homemade goodies with my nephews and my nieces when they’re old enough. I would love to come over early in the morning and watch them open their presents. I would love to drive around this neighborhood and ooh and ahh over the light displays or go to the parade downtown. But all of the stuff makes me feel…I don’t know, Bunny.” I called her by her familial nickname. “When those things are over, you and Jia go home to your husbands and your children. I go home to an empty place.”
I licked my lips, which had become inexplicably dry then remembered that I had lip balm. I fished around in my purse while I continued.
“Dolton and Langston cornered me at the fundraiser on New Year’s Eve.” I eyed her suspiciously. “As if you weren’t aware. And I told them the exact same thing. Sometimes being around you guys is…overwhelming.”
She left her stool, walked over to me, and wrapped me up in a big hug.
“I love you, Juli. The last thing I ever want to do is make you feel overwhelmed or more alone than being single probably makes you feel at the holidays. I just want you in my memories and my children's memories. It’s selfish, but I want them to be able to remember how Auntie Juli made whatever with us or went wherever with us every Christmas. At this point, all they’re gonna say is how they remembered momma driving Auntie Juli to the airport every Christmas.”
“Sorry.” I was, but I had to put my peace first.
She sat back down in front of her plate. “What have you been doing since New Year’s Eve?”
“Practicing recipes.”
Since graduating from college with a degree in communications that I never really planned to use, I’d been floating through life. My father bankrolled my lifestyle, giving me a hefty “allowance” each month to do my thing. When we lost my father, my mother stepped into his shoes, and the allowance never faltered.
I never worried about holding down a job. I flitted from job to job the same way a butterfly flitted from flower to flower. I tried my hand at any and everything that interested me. I did hair, nails, and makeup. I got licensed and tried selling real estate. I worked for Jianna as a receptionist. I worked for Jia as a nanny. I even worked for my mom and her new guy as a travel expert. I sold five-dollar jewelry, lashes, and nail polish wraps. I made custom t-shirts. I even sold and rented purses from my own collection. Every single endeavor came and went within a few months.
In between trying my hand at different small business ventures, I took classes—cooking classes, sewing classes, painting classes, jewelry making classes, crafting classes, and even pottery making classes. Nothing seemed like anything I really enjoyed or that I could see myself maintaining for any real length of time. Until I took a cupcake, cookie baking, and decorating class. An eight-week introduction into a world of creativity that I had never given two thoughts had opened my eyes.
“You’re gonna have to let us taste some cupcakes and cookies one of these days, Juli.”
“I’m still practicing,” I insisted, though I had been practicing for over six months now.
“Well, me and this baby,” she gently cupped her belly, “are gonna have to be the taste testers, because I want some d-a-m-n cookies and cupcakes.”
I tried not to laugh as she slammed her balled fist on the marble countertop. Jianna was generally a very calm and level-headed person. Pregnancy hormones, though. They turned her into an unpredictable, impulsive drama queen.
“Okay. Calm down.” I tried to hold it, but the snicker bubbled out of me. “You’re gonna hurt your hand and I’m not about to have to explain to Dolton why his wife’s hand is in a cast. I’ll bring you some d-a-m-n cookies.”
“Butter cookies, please. I don’t like sugar cookies.”
“Got it. And cupcakes for my nephew and nieces.”
“I like cupcakes. Yes, bring me some of those, too. When can you bring them?”
“I’ll bring them by in the morning. I have a date tomorrow afternoon,” I confessed.
After the death of my father, almost everything in my life went under a microscope. Most things didn’t survive the scrutiny. One of the main things to go by the wayside were serious relationships with men. The relationship I’d been in the process of building with a dude named Carlos quickly went by the wayside not long after the funeral. I just didn’t have the energy to put forth the effort that most men required.
Her brown eyes went wide in surprise. “With who?”
I shrugged vaguely. “Some dude from an app. It’s called Fix Me Up .”
“You looking for something serious?”
I eyed her. “Right now I’m just looking to get out of the house and have some fun. He let me pick, so we’re going axe throwing.”
Her brown eyes ballooned. “Axe throwing?”
“Yeah. I have some anger that I need to release. I would’ve chosen a rage room, but I didn’t want to scare him.” I chuckled softly. “If the date goes okay, I’ll let him pick the next time.”
I stood from my seat at the island to give my nephew and both of my nieces big kisses on their chubby cheeks. I glanced over my shoulder at Jianna. “I told you that you and Dolton were gonna make some pretty babies.”
She grinned. “You did.”
I grinned back at her. “And you did.”
* * *
Jameer Jenkins and I pulled into the parking lot of Axe Marks the Spot at the exact same time . I watched him climb out of his van, as I climbed out of my Acura MDX.
When I originally saw his profile picture on the Fix Me Up app, I thought he looked like Drake. I requested more pictures, and he sent more. In some pictures, he looked more like Drake. In other pictures, he looked less like Drake. The person who approached me in front of the axe throwing spot really didn’t have anything in common with Drake, except maybe their complexions. He definitely looked mulatto, but that was the only resemblance to any of the pictures he’d sent or to Drake.
Jameer was handsome, though, albeit a tad chubbier than what I usually went for. He sported a mustache and goatee and was over six feet tall. What threw me off was the fact that his shirt was too small. His stomach was literally hanging out from under it.
Me being a silly person, I immediately thought of Winnie the Pooh with his little half hoodie and no bottoms. Of course Jameer was wearing bottoms, but the shirt was so little. I purposed in my mind that I was going to ignore it and give the date my best effort. I did make sure to mentally clock the fact that his vibe was weird, though. It wasn’t scary, but there was definitely something… closed off there. We were supposed to use the date as an opportunity to get to know each other. The fact that he showed up with a closed-off energy put me on guard.
“So, this is what you like to do in your spare time?” he asked once we’d greeted each other as he stared at the building like I asked him to meet me at the cemetery or the trap house.
“Actually, I’ve never done this.” I pulled the door open since it didn’t seem like he was going to do it. “The holiday season was a little rough this go ‘round.” I gave a light but fake little chuckle. “This seemed like a good and healthy way to blow off some steam.”
He eyed me in a way that made me feel self-conscious. The fact that I was dealing with the blues made feeling self-conscious something that I really didn’t need. I stopped dead in my tracks, turned around, and faced him.
“Listen, I get that we don’t know each other and I picked this, but please know that we don’t have to do it. We can walk out of here and go our separate ways.”
“Nah.” He fingered the toothpick that hung from his mouth. “Nah. We good. I’ve just never heard of…axe throwing. Doesn’t seem like something that a brother would be out here doing.”
I was about to tell him fuck it. I wasn’t about to sell him on doing it. Either he was with it, or he wasn’t.
“Come on, little angry girl. Let’s go throw some axes.”
* * *
Axe throwing was more of a stress relief than I anticipated. I wasn’t the most accurate, but the act of powering myself up and flinging that axe with all of my might actually caused some endorphins to fire up. Before I knew it, Jameer and I were laughing and joking. His disposition might have come from the beer he was drinking like a fish, but I knew mine came from the exertion of energy.
He won, as he was much more accurate with his throws than I was, but I didn’t care about that. I cared about how light and happy I felt as we left the facility.
“Yo, throwing them damn axes gotta nigga back touching his stomach,” he told me as we walked out of the vestibule and into the cold night air. “We should grab something to eat.”
“I could eat.” I gave him a smile. I didn’t see things going any further with Jameer than this night, but I felt sure that we could end the night cordially. “Where do you wanna go?”
“One of my guys owns a restaurant out this way. You could ride with me.”
I didn’t know dude. “Nah, I don’t wanna leave my truck. I’ll follow you.”
“It’s not far. Your truck will be fine. You can ride with me.”
Uhm. He was one of those convincing dudes. The ones that tried to convince you that whatever thought or plan they came up with was better than the thought or plan you had for yourself. They tended to be pushy, and since most women were socialized not to be oppositional, the pushiness worked. Most women gave into that personality type. I was raised by Gianni Outlaw. I did Outlaw shit.
I planted my feet and stared directly into his eyes. “Nah. I’m good. I’m driving my own truck. I’ll follow you.”
He snickered, shrugged his shoulders, and wiggled the toothpick with his tongue. “Suit yourself, lil mama.”
We took off for the parking lot. When we got to where we had both left our vehicles, his was there, but mine was gone.
“Where your shit at, lil mama?”
I stood there dumbfounded. In the spot where I had left my truck sat… nothing. My truck wasn’t there. I looked around, actually doing a 360-degree turn to canvas the entire parking lot, but there was no little candy apple red Acura MDX.
My mind was completely blank. I had no idea what to do.
“Were you legal, lil mama? You think your shit got towed?”
“I’m legal. There wouldn’t be a reason for my truck to be towed.”
“Then it was probably stolen.”
My heart sank lower in my chest because that was my fear—that my truck had been stolen. “I don’t know what to do.”
“Well, what we can’t do is stand here all night looking around like that motherfucka is gonna show back up. It’s fifteen degrees out here. Hop in my ride. We can go from there.”
My feet began to follow him before my eyes truly focused on his vehicle. Once my brain registered what I was looking at, I stopped walking forward and started walking backward toward Axe Marks the Spot . At the same time, I pulled my phone from my purse and called Langston.
“Short Cake?”
“Hey. I’m on the corner of Common Ave and West Place at a place called Axe Marks the Spot .” I gave him that information as quick as hell. “I think I’m being set up.”
“Slow down, baby, and share your location right now. Then tell me what’s up.”
It hadn’t even dawned on me to share my location.
Jameer walked toward me. I walked away from him.
“What’s happening, lil mama?” Jameer leered at me. “Let’s go sit in my van and talk about what to do next about your truck.”
“Who the fuck is that?” Langston questioned.
“I’m on a date, and my truck was stolen.”
“A date? Who is this motherfucker?”
“Just somebody I met on an app.” I looked at Jameer. “I’m good. This is my brother on the phone. He’s gonna come scoop me.”
“Tell him you’re good,” Jameer suggested.
“Tell that nigga to get in his shit and drive away. I’m heading toward you now.”
“My brother says you can go.” At this point, I was back in front of the door of the establishment.
“You ain’t even have to call your brother. I told you we could’ve talked in my ride.”
“No, thank you. I’m not getting in your van.” There was no way in hell that I was willingly going to get in dude’s black Sprinter van with the blacked out windows.
He had the audacity to arrange his expression into one of confusion. “Why are you tripping?”
Before I had a chance to respond, the screeching of tires cut through the atmosphere. Since I wasn’t sure exactly what kind of shit Jameer was into, I opened the door of Axe Marks the Spot and prepared to carry myself inside while I waited for Langston.
“Julianna!” The male voice called my name with strong authority.
I turned in the doorway and saw Nico.
“Nico.” His name came out breathlessly as the fear that had been gripping me slowly loosened its tentacles from my chest and lungs.
“Nico there?” Langston asked.
I forgot I had him on the phone. “Yes.”
“Tell Nico to stay there. I’m on my way.”
“Okay,” I said with another breath of relief.
Jameer eyed Nico intently. “Nico.”
“Jameer.” The disdain was evident. Nico turned to me. “The fuck are you doing with him, lil bit?”
“We had a date.”I almost wanted to smile at how his forehead creased, his eyebrows furrowed, and his eyes bugged, but I didn’t.
“You found this nigga online?”
I nodded.
“Delete whatever fucking app matched you with him off your phone,” he told me. Then he turned to Jameer. “Nigga, get the fuck on. You already know this ain’t what you want. Don’t have me let KG know what type of shit you’re on out here.”
“Fuck you, bitch.” He sneered at Nico like he really wanted to give him that work, but after a beat or two, he turned and walked toward his van.
“You don’t have to say it. He stole my truck…had my truck stolen.” I thumped the lower part of my palm against my own forehead. “Why would I park beside a complete stranger like that?” I shook my head. “That could’ve gone wrong in so many ways. That was so dumb of me. I let him park right next to me and didn’t even pay attention that he was driving the international vehicle for abduction. A Sprinter van with a blacked out front window? And he was doing everything he could to get me to willingly get into that van. Thank God he didn’t just lift me and physically put me in there.”
Nico let me get my rant off. He didn’t interrupt or interject.
“Who is KG? Somebody who’s into…illegally moving women and young girls?” My head pounded with the thought that I could’ve gotten myself into a terrible predicament.
“KG is Kenny Garfield. You familiar?”
“Keenan Garfield’s daddy?” Keenan was a guy that my sisters and I had grown up with. His father was part of the same crime syndicate as my father.
He cracked a smile.
“Kenny Garfield isn’t into sex work.” I reminded myself. “That’s Simeon Jones. Kenny Garfield is into…cars.” Defeat moved through my entire body. “Damn! My truck is probably already at the chop shop, huh? The pretty red paint has probably already been covered over with black, huh?”
“I don’t know, lil bit, but I’ll put in a call.”
“You think dude would’ve really kidnapped me?”
Nico looked down at me, sincerity in his pecan-brown eyes. “If he had gotten you in his van, there’s no telling what he would’ve done.”
I wrapped my arms around Nico’s waist and hugged him. “How did you get here so fast?”
“My shop…I own an auto body and custom shop. It’s literally five blocks from here.”
While I still had my face buried in Nico’s mid-section, Langston parked on the curb right in front of us, quickly exiting his truck.
He pulled me off of Nico and into his chest. “Short Cake, what the fuck?”
Tears breached my eyes. “I know. I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be sorry. Just be careful. Jia wouldn’t be able to fucking breathe if something happened to you.” He pushed me away from him and examined me thoroughly. “You good? You good? That nigga didn’t put his hands on you, did he?”
I shook my head. “No.
“Get in my truck. Jia wants to see you. We’re stopping through our crib before I take you home. Let me holler at Nico for a minute.”
I went to Langston’s truck without protest. Once I was securely in the passenger seat, I called Jianna. I knew she would be in her hormonal bag if I talked to Jia about going on a date with a creep before I talked to her about it.