Chapter 6
“It’s all foreign to me, I don’t speak what you speak…”
Harbor
Sleep wouldn’t come to me that night. I tossed and turned in the dark, nothing but the shadows from the moon bouncing off the walls.
I was hot, then cold, taking the covers off and on.
Images of my father, Lock, and even my mother seemed to flash on repeat.
It dawned on me, after looking at the clock that read it was after two a.m., I had free rein.
Sitting up in bed, I tossed my legs over the side and peered around. I could use a snack.
Grabbing the matching robe to my night gown, I slipped it over my body and went to the door.
It was strange, having it unlocked. I actually smiled when I pulled it open and poked my head into the darkened hallway.
I crept through the hallways, but my heart was going crazy.
The house was so big. I hadn’t realized how creepy it was during the night.
Catching a chill, I crossed my arms over my chest and continued a gradual trek to the kitchen.
I was in part of the house that I’d never been in before.
Nearing a set of big double doors with crown molding and handles built like the tusk of an elephant, I paused.
Something told me I was near him. This was Frequency’s domain.
The entire house carried his deep aura. The door was left barely parted.
I could hear a voice, but it wasn’t loud or even clear.
He was muttering, and then suddenly a rage-filled howl filled the air, sending chills down my spine.
Gasping, I paused in my step and listened. I heard deep breathing and movement, and I was going to keep minding my business and move down the hallway. My shadow or something must have caught his attention. Next thing I knew, I was being pinned into a wall, and a gun was in my face.
The cold, hard, shadowy stare that marked me kept me frozen beside his door. Frequency panted, and there was so much sweat on his bare chest that it was dripping off him. I finally felt like I could breathe, and took slow breaths as he bit down on his bottom lip angrily.
“The fuck are you doing?” he demanded.
“I couldn’t sleep,” I answered, eyes on the gun.
He canvassed me from head to toe, trying to guess if I was telling the truth or not.
“And so you decided to wander around in the dark halls?” he asked, lowering his weapon.
“I was hungry. I thought I would go to the kitchen and grab a snack, if that was alright with you,” I muttered through gritted teeth. “This trust thing has to go both ways.”
He took a step back, pistol at his side, as he ran his hand down his face. His shoulders relaxed, and he shook his head.
“I’m sorry.” He apologized, surprising me.
I removed myself from the wall and tied my robe around me. It had come loose during our interaction.
“Can I go now?”
Using his hand with the gun, he waved for me to move on past him.
Clearly, he was having some kind of nightmare.
I only aggravated him more by creeping around like a weirdo.
And why the fuck was I making excuses for him anyway?
We weren’t friends or nothing of the sort.
I finally arrived in the kitchen and went right to the cabinets where the snacks were kept.
Reaching for a container of Pringles, I excitedly dove in and went over to the island counter.
Just the light above the stove illuminated the room, and I gazed around while stuffing my face.
This was living. That was for sure. It got me thinking about how I grew up, and I sat on a bar chair and continued to snack.
“Hmm, so you’re a night owl too.” Celine strolled in, house shoes sliding against the floors.
“Um… yeah. Couldn’t sleep.”
“So how does it feel? Being able to come and go as you want?” she asked, smiling as she paused on the opposite side of the counter.
“Oh, it feels great not to be confined to one room,” I sarcastically stated.
“Harbor… I’ve known Frequency all of his life. He is bullheaded, brash, and persistent,” she spoke with benevolence, and I could tell that she genuinely loved him very much.
There was a sparkle in her eyes that wasn’t there otherwise. That old-school auntie and grandma kind of love was all over her.
“But there is a reason for it. He didn’t just come out that way. He cares deeply. I know it may not seem like it given the last year—”
“I never felt endangered here,” I confessed softly, shame filling me up inside.
My gaze fell on my hands and tears built up. Guilt inhabited me at times because I was okay not being at home. My family barely regarded me as it was. I brought my somber glance to meet Celine’s.
“After my mother left, my father couldn’t not see her when he looked at me.
Everything I did was a trigger for him, down to the earrings or an outfit I was wearing or even a hairstyle.
I walked on eggshells for an entire year, then I went off college.
I was glad to leave and get out of that house.
My sister, Harmonie, she didn’t remind him of my mama.
She could do no wrong, even when she was screwing up.
There was just something about Harbor, the black sheep.
You know, Frequency let me call and talk to my dad the other day.
Instead of being concerned or relieved, he just…
went right in. I realized right then, in that moment, that nothing I did would ever be good enough for him.
” The sadness in my tone must’ve matched my expression because Celine stared on empathetically at me.
“Wow. That’s… disheartening.”
“Tell me about it. So… being here is actually not the worst place on earth,” I kidded, making her giggle.
“So somehow you found a silver lining out of all of this?” She rested her elbows on the counter.
“Somehow,” I agreed, nodding.
“You are… quite the young woman, Harbor.” She grinned, and I returned the gesture. “You want some cherry cheesecake? I made one before I went to bed and woke up craving a slice.”
“That sounds amazing,” I moaned we laughed together some more .
We sat in the kitchen eating and talking over cheesecake.
I learned all kinds of things about Celine.
She was single, never married, and had spent much of her life in this very house with Frequency and his family.
She was nineteen when she came to work here.
That was a long time to dedicate yourself to one family considering she was almost fifty-five years old.
I let her do most of the talking because thinking about my past was bound to send me spiraling down a dark hole that I didn’t want to visit.
I finally grew fatigued and retired back to my bedroom, sleeping in until sunrise.
Frequency
Breakfast consisted of oatmeal and bacon.
Dressed in slacks and a button up, I stood at the counter with the paper in front of me.
Since springing up on Harbor in the middle of the night, a nigga couldn’t sleep.
Waking up after having my pops beating my ass and playing mind games with me in my fucking sleep and her roaming the halls, shit left me uneasy.
I already slept with the pistol under the pillow.
That bitch remained in my hand for the remainder of the night.
I walked around as well and happened to stumble upon Harbor’s conversation with Celine during the wee hours.
There was a lot of pain when she spoke. Her story also sounded a lot like mine with my own child.
I never wanted Ivy to even carry an ounce of that with her.
“Morning, Daddy.” my daughter greeted me, practically skipping inside.
“Morning, baby girl. You ready to check out this last school?”
“I guess.” She sighed, walking to the fridge. “Do you think we can do something together this weekend? Maybe catch a movie or go to the arcade? Maybe even the zoo or amusement park?”
“We’ll see. We got a lot going on with you starting school and me trying to start this new business. I promise we’ll make time. I’ll be driving you to school every morning too.”
“You will?” she asked, lighting up at the thought.
“Yeah. And tonight I have this charity dinner. But your aunt and uncle are here too. I’m sure they would love to spend some time with you.”
“Are you and Harbor going to this dinner?” Ivy queried, annoyance in her tone.
“Yes. Why you asking that?” I fired back.
“Are you dating her, Daddy, or do you want to?” Ivy questioned.
The shit kind of threw me, but she waited for my answer. “I’m not dating anyone, Ivy. I have women that I entertain. Things with Harbor are based on business. That’s all this is,” I explained.
“She called me a brat.” My daughter pouted, and I couldn’t help but laugh out loud.
“Well, you are kind of a brat.” I brought a spoonful of oatmeal to my lips.
“No I’m not,” Ivy argued.
“Try to get along with her, okay? She’ll be around for a while,” I told her while I chewed.
“She’s pretty,” Ivy muttered. “Like ridiculously pretty.”
She sounded like she hated that fact, and I simpered while shaking my head.
“Yes, she is,” I agreed softly.
“But you don’t like her?” Ivy pressed.
I squinted, wondering where she was going with the conversation. For a twelve-year-old, she was already able to run circles around a grown mothafucka.
“I can say that she is smart, ambitious, and driven. She is very attractive but pursuing a relationship with her outside of business is not my intention.” I worded myself carefully because I didn’t want to expose too much to my daughter.
“Your intention?” Ivy questioned with a raised brow. “Hmm, sounds very… vague… Daddy.”
“Go get your stuff together so we can go,” I instructed while Kara came sailing into the kitchen.
“Good morning!” she sang, cheerful.
“You take your meds early or something?” I joked with her.
“Ha-ha. I slept amazing. And I thought we could all find something to do together today,” she suggested, going right for the coffee pot.