Chapter Thirteen
Mortician arrived at the burger joint almost ninety minutes late.
It was near closing time. Normal Tuesday nights were slow. Now, it was damn near deserted. He saw no sign of his wife, though her Escalade was outside so she was there. Probably in the ladies room.
The server on duty had abandoned their post, so Mort headed to his favorite booth.
He still chose Symphony’s area. He missed the former waitress.
Not because he had a thing for her, but because she was good at what she did, and he appreciated competence.
He grabbed a menu from the holder and glanced at the empty booth across from him.
He was in the same booth he sat in when he and Harley had their infamous discussion about her not dating until she was sixty; the same booth he sat in when he met CJ and Symphony took her shot with both of them.
How times had changed .
“You really need a menu, Mort? We all know which burger is your favorite.”
Symphony’s voice startled him. He hadn’t been expecting to hear it and he’d been lost in his own world.
He lifted his gaze to her and smiled. She was still the same gorgeous young chick with long dreads, dark chocolate skin, and long legs. He pretended her pretty tits weren’t almost in his fucking face.
“What you doing here, girl?”
She flipped some of her braids over her shoulder. “Tee called me and said he wanted to rehire me. Said the place wasn’t the same without me and that he couldn’t keep anyone. I’ve been pulling double shifts, he missed me so much.”
“He right. It wasn’t the same without you.”
“Really?” she asked, beaming at him.
“Excuse me.” Icy scorn dripped from Bailey’s voice as she slid into the booth across from Mort and glared from Symphony to him.
Symphony stiffened, snatched her pen and pad from her apron pocket, and nodded to Mort. “Are you ready to order, sir? Mrs. Banks has been waiting for you.”
Mort lifted a brow at Symphony’s sudden formality. One glance at Bailey’s burning anger explained it all. She looked ready to annihilate Symphony, rip her limb from limb, and gnaw on her bloody bones.
“Bailey, baby, no chick ever taking me from you,” he said quietly. “Symphony a cool girl, but even if I wasn’t completely devoted to you, I’m old enough to be her daddy. She flirted with me—”
“She’s still flirting with you!”
“I put her in her place,” Mort continued, determined to get it through Bailey’s head that she had nothing to worry about. “It’s over.”
She turned her head .
“I’m closer to Red than I ever been to Symphony,” Mort reminded her.
“I disagree,” Bailey said stiffly. “I think you’re closer to Meggie. She calls. You jump. Meggie is the reason Harley has turned into—”
Anger surging into him, Mort heaved in a breath. He wasn’t airing club business in front of Symphony. “Give us a few minutes. Tell Tee keep the grill fired up.”
Sliding out of the booth, he got to his feet, ignoring the appreciation dropping into Symphony’s dark eyes as she looked at him from head-to-toe. He pulled out his debit card. He refused to pay for credit cards for himself. The interest alone was highway robbery.
For Bailey, he paid for one of those elite credit cards only available to those in exclusive tax brackets.
He also paid for cards for her sisters and grandmother.
Knox took care of Roxanne, but at one time Mort spoiled her, too.
Although he wasn’t as generous as Meggie and Prez were with the allowances they gave their children, Mort also funded Harley, Lou, and Kaleb’s allowances.
He handed the card to Symphony. “Tell Tee he gets ten. We’ll settle your tab at the end.”
“Tee likes you, but I’m not sure he’ll keep the diner open for ten bucks.”
Bailey snorted.
Ignoring her, Mort grinned. “Tell him my exact words. He’ll understand, baby.”
“Okay, Mort.”
“Keep the music going on the jukebox,” he told her.
She nodded and left him alone with his wife.
Mort slid back into the booth. Bailey’s head remained focused on the window. Though the blinds were opened, the night was dark, so he knew she couldn’t see anything outside.
She had a perfect profile, revealing the delicate contours of her face. Her vanilla complexion remained beautiful and smooth, with hints of caramel. Dark, wavy hair fell down her back in a waterfall of silk that Mort loved running his fingers through.
“What?” she whispered, still not looking at him.
All hope wasn’t lost. She was still in tune enough with him to feel his gaze on her.
He smiled tenderly. “Look at me, Bailey.”
She swallowed but complied. Tears glistened in her green-brown eyes.
He extended his arms across the table and opened his hands.
She remained motionless. He refused to move, praying she placed her hands in his.
It had to be her choice. The cracks in the marriage had turned into a crevasse, so wide and deep a simple fix was no longer possible.
Repairing their relationship required commitment. Change. Understanding. Mutual work.
Drawing in a deep breath, she placed her hands in his.
The week after Meggie’s last birthday, Prez commissioned a blue diamond wedding set for her upcoming 36 th birthday.
As usual, Johnnie, Val, Mort, Digger, Cash, and Stretch were with him.
Mort had followed Prez’s lead and coughed up the money to give Bailey green diamonds.
Cash and Johnnie made excuses not to buy Ophelia and Kendall jewelry.
Stretch chose a pair of diamond earrings for Ophelia.
Eventually, Cash agreed to split the bill.
Val wanted a yellow diamond upgrade for Zoann too but couldn’t lay down that type of money and Digger salivated over a beautiful pink diamond for Bunny.
At the time, Mort thought his brother couldn’t afford it because Bunny kept him on an allowance. He’d even joked and said if he ever learned how to manage his money, she’d loosen the purse strings. Even with all her contingences in place, Digger still fucked up .
Seeing Prez pony up the money for Val to gift Chester with the promise of telling Meggie to keep the quarterly interest as repayment inspired Mort to pay for the pink diamond.
He didn’t expect motherfucking Digger to design a ring that was almost as expensive as Bailey’s.
Prez warned them they either had to give their wives their gifts before Meggie’s birthday or for Christmas.
Which was fine since Bailey’s birthday came in May; Bunny was in June; Ophelia in July, and Chester in August. For what it was worth, Kendall’s birthday fell in September, but Johnnie hadn’t gotten her anything from the jeweler, so it didn’t matter.
Mort was certain the motherfucker would buy her a birthday gift, but Red would be the only one of their women who wouldn’t get some type of diamond since Johnnie insisted he regularly gave her expensive gifts so he didn’t need to be included in their boys’ club.
Even Knox, Sloane, and Cam went and commissioned pieces for Roxanne, Georgie, and Doc Will.
Mort returned on his own and picked out a pair of earrings and chose orange diamonds for Kendall.
He found out Prez had gone back and added a ring for Meggie with one of the rarest diamonds in the world—red.
The price tag gave Mort chills so he hightailed his ass the fuck out of the shop. Ten days later, Meggie collapsed and no one had thought about those fucking diamonds or all that goddamn money since.
Symphony passing the table and heading to the door snapped Mort back to the present. He glanced over his shoulder, watching as she locked the doors and flipped off the lights in every section except where he and Bailey sat.
The waitress disappeared into the kitchen again.
“You’re a million miles away, Lucas.”
Mort tightened his hands around Bailey’s. “I got a surprise for you. Just trying to decide if I’m giving it to you for your birthday or for Christmas. ”
Excitement flickered in her eyes, then she lowered her head. “I’m closer to forty than thirty. Nothing to celebrate.”
“I’m closer to fifty than forty,” he countered.
“You’re a man. Age doesn’t matter as much. Even if it did, you’re still so beautiful and sexy.”
Her compliment pleased him. Her intensity, so filled with misery, did not.
She slid her hands from his, her gentle tug more bittersweet than if she had yanked them away. It felt as if he’d just lost her. As if she’d slipped away like a thief in the night and they’d never again find each other.
“Another pregnancy test came back negative.” She lifted her gaze. Accusation burned in them. “That won’t change since we haven’t made love in days.”
“I’m sorry you not pregnant, Bailey. I know how much you want another baby, but you know why I’m on the sofa.”
She swiped at an angry tear. “You’re allowing CJ and Meggie to ruin our marriage.”
“They can’t do what the fuck you doing with no goddamn problem,” he barked.
“What the fuck is wrong with you? Not a motherfucker in this world in our fucking marriage. Not Meggie girl. Not CJ. Not Symphony. No goddamn body . It’s you and me.
I’m on the motherfucking sofa because of your bad judgment.
Stop blaming Meggie. You came up with that fucked up plan.
You put Harley above decency and common sense. ”
“That’s our daughter.” A sob escaped her. “My baby girl.”
“Your fucking baby demon,” he said before he caught himself.
She gasped and narrowed her eyes, fury replacing her despair.
Wincing, Mort raised his hands. “Baby, Harley not…she changing and not for the better. CJ got no thing to do with it. Meggie got nothing to do with it. It’s on her and you . You didn’t check her when she was still manageable. She out of control now.”
“I’ve failed as a mother then,” she cried softly. “Maybe, I worked too much away from home. It doesn’t matter how many aunts the kids have or how much time Mama spent with Harley. I am her mother and I failed her.”