Chapter Twenty-Eight
Twenty-Eight
Even though I had my new car, I was still parking tandem behind Joanna. It would be nice if I got to park inside to protect the white paint from the elements, and by elements I meant the mourning dove shit that rained down from their nests in the carport. But I was about to see Danuwoa’s home for the first time, and Mama wanted to get laid. Nothing, not even bird shit, could sour my mood.
I walked through the front door, confronted with the smell of fried bologna and a “Shit!” Sage was cooking. There was one thing that could indeed sour my mood.
I looked in the kitchen to make sure he didn’t start a grease fire. He was sucking his finger.
“Hey, welcome home,” he said with a huge grin. “I’m making sandwiches.” He pointed with the spatula at one complete sandwich on a paper plate, white bread spread with mustard and a few slices of fried bologna. It smelled good, so I nodded and took a fat bite, taking the plate with me to the little café table.
He joined me and we ate in awkward silence. Sage was overly polite and happy. It wasn’t that I hated him being here. I loved my brother, and before everything happened, I enjoyed his company. And if I were being honest, having him in my home and next to me meant I could keep an eye on him and that I knew he wasn’t getting into trouble. But he was nineteen. I couldn’t babysit him forever.
I ate my last bite, wiped mustard from the corners of my mouth, and tried to get up to pack for the night. Sage grabbed my hand. “Hey, wait.”
“What?” I sighed, sitting back in the chair. I was tired of fighting.
“I have some exciting news.” He let go of my hand and leaned back into his chair like a cocky bastard.
“Did you win the lottery today?”
“No.”
“Okay.” I got up and walked away.
“Wait,” he whined at my heels, following me into my bedroom. I went straight to my closet to get my trusty pink duffel.
“I got a job,” he told me. His cocky demeanor was gone, replaced with appropriate humility.
“That’s great.” My tone was flat, bored. Old me would have been extremely excited and supportive that my baby brother got a job. That was before he screwed me over. Sure, he apologized to me for skipping bail, but what was an apology with no actions to fix what he did? I slammed a pair of sweats into my bag.
“Are you staying at Dan’s?” he asked me, as if he had a right to know where I was going.
“Yeah,” I said, my tone sharp. It meant the discussion was over.
Sage scratched his head and powered through. “It’s getting pretty serious then? You should bring him to Joanna’s jewelry show. Make him buy you something nice,” he said with a smile, nodding his head like he had just given the best brotherly advice in the world.
“What is it you want, Sage? I haven’t kicked you out on the street or sent you back to Auntie’s, so why are you in my room?”
“I’m just trying to get things back to how they were. I messed up, but I want to fix it.”
“What’s this job then? What’s your plan?” I stood, hands on my hips, my duffel forgotten.
“I’m not going to tell you. You’ll get all judgy, but I’m gonna get my own place here in the city and work to pay you back.”
“I’ve heard this before. I’ll believe it when I see it.”
I didn’t need his money from his secret, probably shady job. I had a great job now. I needed a brother I could trust to not take advantage of me and, more importantly, Auntie. Auntie, who took us in and needed her social security income to live off, not give to Sage, who refused to be serious and keep a job.
“Sage, go back to school. Get your GED. You have so much potential. You’re amazing at art, and you could go to college to learn more and get a job in it. You don’t have to hustle or struggle. You don’t have to keep making bad decisions. That’s what I want for you.”
“Fuck, Ember! I’m here saying I have a job that pays a shit ton and plan to start paying you back. You think you’re better than me because you finished school and know accounting. Not everyone is good at school or wants to go to college. My life is different, and it’s mine to live.”
“What kind of life is that? What does this shit ton–paying job have you do? Is it even legal? Are you going to end up back in jail? Don’t you want a family and kids someday?”
“I’m not having kids, are you crazy? Stop picking on me and everything I do wrong. You just avoid everything. Sure, you can do math, but when life gets hard, you shut down and pretend it’s not happening.”
“Hmm, like when you just fucked all and took off, skipping on your bail?” I threw my hands in the air.
“I said I was sorry! Maybe it’s a good thing you didn’t read Dad’s letter. I don’t know if I even want you in our life!”
“What life together? You think when he gets out, you’re gonna have some magical happy family? Did he promise to play catch? Grow up, Sage. You know what, forget the GED or school. Give me twenty dollars of every paycheck until you pay me back, and then we can both be out of each other’s lives.”
I snatched my duffel bag and escaped from my room and my apartment. Maybe Sage was right. I did run away to avoid tough things, but I couldn’t stand fighting with Sage anymore. I needed my own life to live and enjoy.
As I pulled up to Danuwoa’s town house, I pushed all thoughts of Sage and my dad’s letter from my mind. Only when my breathing was calm did I remember I forgot my toothbrush.
I turned off the street and into a townhome development tract. Each house was connected and looked exactly the same. There were so many units there was no way I’d be able to remember which one was Danuwoa’s by memory. With my luck I’d walk up to the wrong door. Everything about the residential tract was neat and orderly. The light blue paint was fresh on all the units. It was a stark contrast to the shitty brown apartment I lived in.
I walked along the curved cement path, following the numbers until I came upon unit seventeen and knocked on the door.
Danuwoa opened it wearing a fitted white T-shirt, his biceps straining against the fabric. His hair was loose from the braids he wore earlier, and his dark-wash jeans trailed down to his bare feet. This was Danuwoa in the comfort of his own home.
“Meow!” A black-and-white cat wove possessively through Danuwoa’s legs. It was staking its claim. I schooled my face into a smile.
“Hi, kitty.” I bent to let it sniff my hand. It hissed and took off running up the stairs behind Danuwoa.
“Patches!” he called after his beloved. “Sorry, she’s usually more friendly.”
“That’s okay. I’m just new.”
He grabbed my bag and pulled me into him. I crashed into his chest as his mouth gave me the warmest welcome.
“Come in,” he murmured against my lips.
The inside of his home was heaven. It felt like a home. Whereas my apartment was furnished with the cheapest, simplest furniture I could find. That table Joanna and I ate on was found next to a dumpster. Danuwoa’s home had art on the walls, photographs of him and Walela through the years. It was a movie set of the most perfect, cozy home.
He had a plush gray sectional in front of a large flat-screen television and a rug on the wood floors. I had never known a single man to own a rug before the age of thirty.
“Wow.” My brain didn’t work. That one word said it all. It was the nicest home I’d ever stepped foot in.
Then I sneezed. And sneezed. And sneezed.
On top of forgetting my toothbrush, I also forgot to take an antihistamine before showing up here.
“You okay there?”
Between sniffles, I asked for a tissue. He showed me to his small bathroom under the stairs. To my horror, it was also the cat’s bathroom, which housed her litter box.
I used an obscene amount of toilet paper to wipe up my leaky nose. Danuwoa was a gentleman and left me to my privacy. I hadn’t been enclosed in a house with a cat since I was a little girl.
I left the bathroom with a neatly folded square of toilet paper to my nose. “Just some allergies bothering me. Do you have any Benadryl?” I asked through watery eyes. Unless I left his home, I would not be able to escape the cat dander, but my need for Danuwoa was too great. I would suffer through the creepy possessive cat and the allergies it gave me to get another taste of this man.
“Yeah, but it’s an old bottle of children’s Benadryl.”
“That’s fine.”
He opened the cabinet above his coffee maker, taking out a bottle of thick purple salvation.
“I don’t know if you should take this. It probably won’t even work. I can run out and get you some pills.”
I took the bottle from his hand and chugged it. “It’s fine.” I gagged. It tasted foul, but I figured since it was for kids of who knew how many years old, taking that much would make it like a normal dose.
Danuwoa’s face looked horrified. “Right…okay…so…want a tour?”
“You’re offering to let me snoop? Heck yes!” I gave him back the empty bottle of medicine and took a look around his kitchen.
“I didn’t say anything about snooping.”
It was too late. I’d already opened every cupboard and drawer to see what he had. You could tell a lot about a person by how they kept their kitchen. Everything had a place, and it was clear he bought the entire Threshold line at Target. I could respect that. If I weren’t a miser, I’d shell out the money on that brand too. But Walmart, thrift stores, and garage sales did fine for me.
“Mmm, what is that smell?” I sniffed. My nose was clearing up already.
“Dinner. I have corn chowder cooking in the Crock-Pot. Are you hungry?” He was leaning against the fridge, and he looked so damn sexy in his navy-blue kitchen. Blue house, blue kitchen, blue plates. I believed he let Walela pick out most everything.
“Corn chowder sounds good,” I said, and sauntered up to him, wrapping my arms around his neck. I had scarfed down the bologna sandwich, unsure if I should expect a meal. This was all new to me, but the smell coming from the Crock-Pot made my mouth water. I could force myself to eat a bowl, happily.
He threaded his arms around me, setting his hands on the top of my ass.
“You’re staying the night, right?” he asked me and kissed that delicious spot where my ear and neck met.
“That depends,” I said with a shiver.
“On?”
“What state your bedroom is in.”
“Take a look around. I’m a neat freak. I assure you my room is spotless.”
I kissed his Adam’s apple and whispered, “Not for long.”
“This way.” He spun me around, slapping my bottom to get us moving out of the kitchen and toward the stairs. The wall had frames in all shapes, sizes, and colors documenting Danuwoa and Walela’s family. A perfect example of a nineties family portrait was the focal photo. I stopped to look at it. In it was a middle-aged couple, Danuwoa’s mom and dad. His mom had poufy teased bangs, and his dad had a gray braid about half as long as Danuwoa’s now. They were sitting down with a baby Walela in their arms. She was wearing a white frilly dress with lace and ribbons. Kneeling in front was Danuwoa—his hair was short, and he was missing his two front teeth. They looked happy.
“I love this photograph.” I touched the glass.
“Me too,” he whispered.
“What happened to them?” I asked.
Danuwoa took a deep breath. “My mom died two years after this photo…complications from diabetes.”
“I’m so sorry.” I turned around, wrapping my arms around his waist. So many of our people suffer from the affliction and have left the world too soon.
“Dad died almost four years ago of a heart attack.” He gently rubbed my back.
“So, it’s just been you taking care of everything for some time now.”
“Yeah, but Walela and I make a great team.” He kissed the top of my head. “Let’s see my room.”
I didn’t ask anything else. He would share more about his parents and taking care of Walela on his own when he was ready. I turned to head up the stairs the rest of the way, feeling my heart grow three sizes bigger.
He rested his hand on the small of my back and reached around me to open his bedroom door. I was no poet, but I was beginning to think Danuwoa had a poet’s soul. The room was masculine in a refined way. Greens and natural wood. At the foot of his king-sized bed was a woven thunderbird blanket. In the corner of the room by the window was a hanging spider plant, meshing the contemporary with nature in an intentional way. Like his bedroom was his own curated museum meant to be his escape and oasis from life. I was really regretting how cheap I’d been.
“This room is beautiful.” My smile was shy. What had I ever done in my life to deserve the attention and affection of a man like Danuwoa?
“Watch this,” he said, and pressed the light switch. The shades were automated and began to close. At the same time, on the wall opposite his bed, a projector screen lowered.
“You created your own cinema in your bedroom?”
“I like my comforts.” He watched me as I walked around the room.
“Do you have an old-timey popcorn machine hiding in your closet?” I slid the door open to check just in case. His clothes were neatly hung, and his shoes lined the floor.
“And make my fresh linens smell like fake butter? No, thank you.” He just smiled at me as I made my way to his connecting bathroom, then I set my duffel on the ground outside the door.
It was just as I expected. It was white. Clean. You would never in a million years think a bachelor lived here. I left the bathroom, surveying the bed. “So, you just created the perfect Neflix-and-chill room?”
His laugh sent goose bumps up my arms as he came and circled his arms around my waist. “Netflix is the furthest thing from my mind.”
Danuwoa slowly brought his face to mine and nuzzled the place behind my ear. It was at once endearing and sexy as he nipped my earlobe, and I let out a small yelp that he silenced as he captured my mouth. We were tangled limbs. “Wait,” I panted as I pushed him away.
“Sorry, too fast?”
“What? No.” I smiled. “I need to change real quick.”
“Unnecessary, as I want you naked.” He licked my neck as his hands trailed down my curves.
“You’ll like this.” I extracted myself from his arms and locked myself in the bathroom.
Now was the time to make good on the bet. I slipped out of my orthopedic flats and slid my skirt down. Without my cardigan, I was in a white tank top and my hot-pink panties—the sexiest ones I owned. If I was going to keep this up with Danuwoa, and I seriously hoped I would, I needed to invest in better lingerie.
I sat down on the closed toilet and began the process of lacing up my sparkly heels, weaving the straps up and around my calves and tying them in a bow at the crease of my knee. Task complete, I stood and yawned. I had to be quick about this before the Benadryl knocked me on my ass.
The room was still dim, and Danuwoa was fiddling with his phone right where I had left him. He looked up at me and gulped. His eyes devoured me from head to toe.
He put his phone away in his pocket.
“Walela is babysitting, so we have the house to ourselves for a few hours,” he whispered, his voice husky and an octave lower than before.
“Great.” I bit my lip and walked what I hoped was a sexy walk. I went slowly because I hadn’t worn heels in forever. I was back in his arms kissing his lips, taking my time to taste him.
Seconds or minutes later, I couldn’t tell, the kiss turned fierce and hungry. We ripped at each other’s clothes, stumbling our way to the end of the bed. We reached our destination and Danuwoa fell back effortlessly, while I crashed down on top of him. The awkwardness did nothing to slow down his kisses and nips.
Danuwoa’s ocean of a bed would be tangled sheets by the time we were through. I would never tire of exploring his body. His touch seared my soul and had ruined me for all others. He was a drug, and I was waiting for my next fix.
Our clothes were gone, and I was left in only the strappy, sparkly heels. He stared at my face, his eyes saying everything we didn’t dare utter out loud. I closed my eyes and kissed him again.
I couldn’t acknowledge it. Not yet. It was like if I voiced it, it could be ripped from me. I’d never had a real relationship before. I’d never experienced love, and I didn’t want to examine this feeling too closely just yet. My heart was so full in my chest. Before my brain could start analyzing my feelings, Danuwoa flipped me onto my stomach, lifted my hips, and kissed me on my core.
I waited there, bare ass up, as I heard the telltale sound of the condom foil ripping open. There were only a few seconds before Danuwoa slid home inside me. California was not a fluke, and it made this sharing of bodies even better. Our chemistry and passion hadn’t dwindled. I lowered myself onto my elbows and stretched my back like a cat, taking all Danuwoa was giving me.
He was giving more than just himself physically. I could feel in his touch that the connection we had ran deeper than just carnal urges. His fervent attention was driving me closer to the precipice. It was more intense than in California, and I knew it was because Danuwoa and I made sense. I never believed in love at first sight or soulmates, but this chemistry between us almost made me a believer.
When I was pushed over the edge, I saw stars. Afterward, we cuddled together, bare skin and all, with our legs entwined. He played with my fingers, and I listened to the steady drum of his heartbeat. Never in my life had I felt so at peace. There were no constant worries swimming around my head. It was just Danuwoa and me in that moment, and it was so simple and so beautiful.
—
Something landed on my face in the middle of the night. I shot up from the bed, disoriented for a second from the unfamiliarity of the room. To my left lay Danuwoa, shirtless and on his stomach. I couldn’t even remember falling asleep. Between our epic lovemaking and eating dinner, I must have passed out cold from the children’s Benadryl.
Patches! The damn cat had pounced on my face and was now kneading my pillow, her eyes glowing in the dark. My nose was runny again, and my eyes itched like crazy. Sharing a pillow with a cat was not my definition of a peaceful night’s sleep. I scooted farther down the mattress, giving the entitled cat as much of the pillow as possible.
As I lay there trying to get back to sleep, her black tail kept brushing my nose.