Chapter 22 #2
I looked back toward BJ’s window. “Just leaving my grandma’s.”
“Oh.” She paused. “I can call you later.”
“What’s wrong?” I asked.
“Nothing’s wrong.”
“You called asking if I’m busy.”
“I just wanted to talk to you.” Her voice had softened on the last few words, and I felt the reaction to it low in my chest.
It was happening too fast. I had known women who wanted me, women who enjoyed being around me, enjoyed what I could do for them, enjoyed the doors my name opened.
I knew how attraction felt when it was simple.
It stayed physical, clean enough to walk away from when the morning came.
However, whatever was growing between me and Navy had stopped feeling simple without asking my permission.
I looked forward to her calls even if it was business and thought about shit she said hours later. I found myself making room in my day like right now to talk to her when I had other shit I had to do.
“What time you get off?” I asked.
“I’m about to leave in a little bit.”
“I’m closer to your job than I am to your house, so I’ll come get you. we can go eat; I’m starving. ”
“You don’t have to do that.”
“Wait by the entrance,” I told her. “I’ll be there in fifteen.” I ended the call before she could talk herself out of it.
The hospital entrance was crowded when I arrived, but Navy stood near one of the concrete columns with a large tote hanging from her shoulder.
She had changed out of her scrub jacket but still wore the navy-blue set beneath it.
Her hair was pulled into a low bun, with softer pieces curling from the humidity around her face.
When she saw my truck she smiled and that smile did too much to me.
I leaned across and pushed the passenger door open from the inside.
She climbed up, pulling the tote onto her lap before she turned to buckle her seat belt.
I pulled from the curb. “You eat?”
“Not since earlier.”
“There’s a café across the street.”
“I know but their coffee is terrible, so I hope you don’t want none.” She giggled.
“We ain’t going for coffee.”
The place was small enough that we could see most of it from the door.
It only had six tables that filled the narrow dining room, with two more beneath an awning outside.
A glass case was near the register that held croissants, slices of pound cake, and sandwiches wrapped in paper.
The air smelled like toasted bread and burnt espresso, confirming Navy’s complaint about the coffee before we even sat down.
We took the table farthest from the register. Navy placed her tote on the empty chair beside her and rubbed both hands slowly over her face.
“You had a long day?” I asked.
She shrugged looking over the place. “They’re all long lately.”
A waitress approached, balancing two menus beneath one arm. Navy ordered tea and a turkey panini. I asked for water and the same sandwich. Once the waitress left, it got quiet for a few seconds. Navy traced one fingertip through the condensation left by the water glass in front of her.
I watched her wondering what she wanted to talk about. “You said you wanted to talk.”
“I do.”
“About?”
Her eyes found mine. “Were you okay after you left my apartment?”
I leaned back in the chair. “You called me here to ask if I was okay?”
“I’m serious.”
“The question is were you okay?”
She stopped moving her finger through the water. “I was fine, but it seems like you were a little upset.”
I looked toward the front windows across the street where people moved in and out of the hospital doors while traffic stopped and started again and then back at her.
“Navy, I can’t be mad about another man’s wife.
That’s something I can’t get involved with.
I had no reason to be upset. I’m confident in whatever my position is.
You feel my presence even when I’m not around, that says enough. ”
“I don’t know why I felt the need to explain,” she admitted.
“I understand why you did it.” I told her.
The waitress returned with her tea, placing a tiny metal pitcher of honey beside the cup. Navy waited until she walked away before speaking again. Her shoulders lowered slightly, although the tension stayed in her face. She opened two packets of sugar, poured both into the tea, then stirred it.
“I’m just making sure Lev. I don’t know what this is between us and I just need some kind of clarity.”
Most people adjusted themselves around my silence. They guessed, waited, or decided it was safer not to ask. Navy looked me in the face and demanded clarity as though I had not spent most of my adult life making sure nobody felt entitled to it which let me know she was becoming more comfortable.
The waitress brought our food, sliding the plates onto the table. Navy pulled the top half of her panini away and stared at the melted cheese. For several minutes, we ate without speaking. I waited because I knew that wasn’t the only reason she had called.
She took two bites, wiped her mouth, then placed the sandwich down. “Why did you give me the money back?”
Yeah, it was just like I thought. This was really what it was all about.
“You wanted every dollar when you found out I took it. You held that debt over my head. You made me work to pay it. Then suddenly you gave me everything back like none of it mattered.” She watched me closely. “Why?”
I set the glass down because the real answer had too many layers.
I had seen the way she lived and because I knew she was working at the hospital, baking cakes, and dancing in a club she hated just to hand money over to me, I knew every payment started feeling less like repayment and more like I was punishing her for surviving something she was trying to get away from.
“I care about you,” I repeated. “Enough that taking money from you started feeling wrong.”
Her eyes watered up although she blinked before anything could fall. “You could’ve told me.”
“I’m telling you now. Just like I told you last night.”
She gave a quiet laugh and looked down. “You know that doesn’t erase how crazy you acted in the beginning.”
“I ain’t trying to erase it.”
“You were terrible.” Navy smiled sipping her tea.
I leaned forward, resting my arms on the table and got straight to the point. “What do you want from me?”
The smile faded. “I don’t know.”
“Then why we here Navy?” I questioned with my head slightly tilt to the side waiting for an answer while making sure I didn’t break the glare.
“Because I wanted to see you.” she admitted.
“And because I had questions.” The honesty in her voice matched mine.
She glanced toward the window, then continued before I could respond.
“And because everything about this feels like it’s moving too fast. I’m filing for divorce, Rome is spiraling.
Marv is still pursuing, and he’s still been pressing but he’s not the one I’m finding interest in. ”
“I told you, Marv is going through some shit right now, and the best thing for you is to stay away from him.”
Navy noticed. “What’s going on?”
“he’s just not himself.”
That’s all I told her. We stayed another twenty minutes, talking as she opened up and told me about supposed to be going to see her best friend after a procedure without sharing details that were not hers to tell.
I told her BJ had called about Marv, but I left out the part about cocaine until I could confirm how far gone he was.
She asked about my office. I asked about her baking orders.
The conversation moved easier once we stopped pressing it toward an answer.
When I dropped her back at the hospital parking lot, the sky had turned dark. Her car sat beneath a light near the employee entrance. I pulled into the empty space beside it and put the truck in park. Navy reached for her tote, then paused with one hand on the door handle. “Thank you for coming.”
“You called.”
“That doesn’t mean you had to.”
“I wanted to and when I want to, I’ll come every time.” I let her know.
She looked at me in that quiet way she had, like she was trying to read through my soul. Then she leaned across the console and kissed my cheek. It was brief but soft enough that I felt the warmth of it after she had already pulled away.
“Drive safe,” she said.
I watched her climb down from the truck and walk toward her Benz.
She turned around one time before opening the door, caught me still watching, and smiled.
I waited until her car started before pulling away and then I called Marv and he answered on the fourth ring with noise blasting in the background.
“What?” he snapped.
“Where you at?”
“Why?”
“BJ called me.”
He laughed, quick and humorless. “Man, BJ worry about every fucking thing.”
“She said you came over high.” I told him. Marv needed to get his shot together. “Just like you still high now.”
“Fuck you.” he spat.
I gripped the steering wheel tighter. “Fuck you too. Where are you?”
He kept dodging the question. “Why you keep asking me that?”
“Because I’m trying to talk to you.”
“We talking.”
“No, you ranting in my fucking ear.”
Marv said something away from the phone, then returned louder. “You know what the problem is? Everybody think I’m crazy because I’m the only nigga paying attention.”
“To what?”
“To all this shit happening around us.”
This nigga sounded crazy. “What shit?”
“Paper.”
I turned the music down in my truck even though it was already low. “What about him?”
“That nigga been working for Navy husband. Showing up places he ain’t got no business being, asking questions. Rome been having that nigga watch us. I know fa’sho Paper shot me.”
“You got proof?”
“You always need proof when it ain’t your idea.”
“I need proof because you been sniffing powder and talking like somebody planted a microphone in BJ smoke detector.”
Silence filled the line for half a second and then Marv exploded. “That old bitch told you that?”
Disrespecting BJ would get him killed without question. “Watch your fucking mouth.”