Chapter 34
Chapter thirty-four
Yale
“You have a package,” Berkeley said when I walked into the kitchen. She pointed to the metal briefcase at the end of the island, and my heart dropped. I knew that case, and I could tell you every scratch and dent.
“How did it get here?” I slowly approached the case as if it were going to grow legs and run away.
“Don’t know,” she answered with a shrug. She took a bite of her cinnamon roll, then pushed her plate away. She wiped her hands on her napkin, then turned and looked at me. “Tulane did look annoyed as fuck though.”
“He always looks annoyed,” I rebutted as I ran my hand over the case. “It’s his favorite emotion to display.” I turned the case on its side and pressed in the code to unlock it. The sound of the lock disengaging echoed through the room.
I started to open the case, but Berkeley slammed it shut. “Don’t open that until we talk,” she said, shaking her head.
“Berkeley--”
“Hear me out before you start up,” she sighed. My eyes went back to the case, and I bit into my bottom lip. “Yale, we need to talk.”
“I don’t want to,” I said, shaking my head.
It’d been almost two weeks since I told them about the accident that killed Xavier.
For the first week, I locked myself in my room and hid.
I wasn’t ready to face the world, to see the faces of the women who shared so many of my features and know that I’d taken one of us from the world.
So I stayed to myself as much as I could.
Then, on week two, Clarke picked the locks to the room, and they surrounded me until I was ready to face the world.
Today was my first day out of my room. “Not right now.”
“That tall light-skinned nigga was here,” Clarke said, walking into the room. Her attention was on the wood in her hand. She’d started a new piece yesterday and was almost finished. “He and Tulane got into it. They were yelling.”
“What tall light skin nigga?” I asked her, but Clarke’s attention was now on the plate of cinnamon rolls on the counter.
She set the supplies down and walked over to the counter.
She examined the rolls before her face twisted, and she shook her head.
“He put too much frosting on them,” she said as she took a step back.
“I told him when he was making them this morning not to put that much frosting on them, but he didn’t listen.
” She turned and looked at me. “How can you love a nigga that doesn’t listen to simple instructions? ”
“What tall light skin nigga, Clarke?” I asked again. My heart was slamming against my chest as I thought of the possibility of it being Amethyst she was talking about. She looked at me and blinked as if she didn’t understand the question. “Clarke, what did he look like?”
“Tall and light skin,” she answered with a shrug. “I said that already.”
“Did he have long curly hair?”
“Yeah,” she nodded. “He looked a little sassy if you ask me.”
“Damn, Clarke,” Berkeley laughed. “That man didn’t look sassy, and you know it.”
“He talks too much,” Clarke said with a shrug. “When he wasn’t glaring at us, he was asking about Yale like he couldn’t just go upstairs and see her.” Clarke crossed her arms and then leaned against the island to face us.
“He made you cinnamon rolls as an apology for getting on your nerves,” Berkeley said, and Clarke smirked. The more time we spent together, the more I realized that she was probably the bluntest person I’d ever met. There wasn’t a thought that went through her mind that she didn’t say aloud.
“He could’ve gone upstairs to check on Yale like I suggested,” she replied. “Then he wouldn’t need to apologize.”
“What did he need to apologize for?” I asked as I watched them talk, as if I wasn’t here.
“He said I talked too much and that I was going to meet someone who wasn’t going to deal with my mouth and shut me the fuck up,” Clarke laughed. “I told him I’d like to see that person try.”
“Amethyst is here?” I clarified.
“He left a few hours ago,” Clarke said, shaking her head. “After he made those damn cinnamon rolls, he left.”
“Why didn’t one of you tell me?” I could feel myself getting upset, but I wasn’t sure who I was upset with. Amethyst for not coming to see me, or at them for not telling me he was in the house.
“He asked us not to,” Berkeley answered. “He was here to talk to Tulane and drop off your case.”
“You said you didn’t see who brought it in here.”
Berkeley shook her head. “No, I said I didn’t know how the case got in here. I didn’t see Tulane or Amethyst bring it in here.”
“A fucking play on words,” I sighed and rolled my eyes. “You knew how the damn case got into the house.”
“I did, and I also know that y’all shit isn’t my business like that,” Berkeley replied. “Amethyst came here to talk to Tulane, not you. We told him more than once to go up and see you, but he never did. That’s not our fault.”
I bit the inside of my cheek to keep from going off. She was right, Amethyst not coming to see me was on him, not them. Instead of going off on them, I nodded, locked the case back, and left it on the counter.
“Where are you going?” Clarke asked as I moved away from the counter.
“Going to talk to Tulane,” I answered her.
“You should fuck his office up instead of talking to him,” she suggested, and I stopped walking to look at her.
I lifted my brow in surprise, and she smiled.
“You’ve been peaceful, you know, not talking or cussing a little, but that nigga hasn’t heard shit you’ve said.
Fuck his shit up, and I bet he’ll call Amethyst to come get your ass or at least talk you off the ledge. ”
“I agree,” Berkeley said with a laugh. “Kick that nigga shit over, flip a table, and I bet you he’ll start doing what you ask.”
“I’m not doing all that,” I said, shaking my head.
They shared a disappointed look, and I turned and walked away.
I knew that Berkeley had been giving Tulane hell, and I wasn’t surprised that Clarke was too.
I left the kitchen with them on my heels.
When I got to his office at the end of the hallway, I knocked twice, then opened the door.
Tulane sat at his desk, his attention on his computer, but he looked up when I cleared my throat. “What can I do for you, Yale?” he asked, then turned back to his computer.
“Amethyst was here.” It was more of a statement than a question, but he nodded anyway. “Call him and tell him to come back.”
“No.”
“I’m not asking you, Tulane,” I laughed as I walked around his office.
I looked over at Berkeley and Clarke, who were watching me and smiling.
I was about to do precisely what they’d suggested, and they knew it.
“I’m telling you to call his ass and tell him to come and get me, or I’m going to start showing the fuck out. ”
Tulane turned to face me and smirked. He sat back in his seat, crossed his arms, and swayed.
“Do what you have to do, Yale, but remember that everything you break in here, he is going to replace,” he laughed.
“He warned me about your temper already, and I know you’ve been talking to those two over there, and they aren’t the best influence. ”
“Look at you learning to compliment your daughters,” Berkeley gushed as she smiled at Tulane. “You’re starting to get this parent thing down.”
“He’s a bit of a slow learner, but he’s getting there,” Clarke agreed as she nodded. “It’s taken you what? Two months to get to this spot? I’m kind of proud of you.”
“Geeh, thanks,” he sarcastically replied.
“You’re welcome, don’t ever say we didn’t have faith in you,” Clarke said.
She turned to me and dug into her pocket.
“Here, take this against anything that’s made of glass.
” She handed me a small metal device that looked like a pick.
“It’s a glass puncher; it’ll shatter everything in here.
I planned to use it later, but I think you will do it justice. ”
I took the puncher from her and walked around Tulane’s office.
He was putting on a good front, but I could see the panic in his eyes.
He didn’t want me to use this, or, more than likely, even show out, but I was tired of being the good daughter.
All three of them had cussed him out, threatened to kill him, and were driving him crazy.
The most I’d done is yell once or twice and cuss a few times.
I may not have been directly mad at him, but he was the one I would take my anger out on.
I put the punch against his TV and looked at him. “Call Amethyst,” I said, and he shook his head. I looked over at Clarke because I wasn’t sure how to use this and lifted my brow.
“Press your thumb against the top like you would a pen to make the tip come out,” she said, and moved her thumb in the motion to show me.
I did as she said and watched as the TV's glass shattered. I turned back to Tulane to see his stunned reaction. “I’m going to keep doing this until you do what I ask and call him.” I walked to the coffee table and pressed the punch against an ugly ass vase that set in the middle of the table.
“Call.” Tulane shook his head, so I pressed the top of the pen.
Just like the TV, it splintered, but unlike the TV, the vase broke apart. I moved on to the table and broke it.
“Yale,” he called out, but I was on a roll. I broke the frames on the wall that held his degrees and our pictures. When I got to the large bay window, I paused and looked at him. “He asked me not to call him.”
“And I’m telling you to call him,” I said, pressing the punch against the window. I waited, counted to three in my head, then pressed the top to shatter the window. “All you have to do is pick up that damn phone, call him, and hand it to me. I will take care of it from there.”
“I can’t,” he grunted.
“Why?” I asked as I moved to the other window. When he didn’t answer fast enough, I shattered that window and the one next to it. “Why can’t you call him, Tulane?” I approached him, stood on the other side of his desk, and stared him in the eyes. “Why can’t you call him?”
“Because he said he doesn’t want you around,” he answered as he watched me.
“What?” I reared back like he hit me. “What did you say?”
“He doesn’t want you around,” he repeated, then stopped swaying. “That’s why he brought your case. It was the last thing of yours left at his house. He said stop calling him, make your fucking jewelry, and live your life.”
“He didn’t say that,” I said, shaking my head.
“If you think I’m lying, ask Spelman; she was in here when he said it.” Tulane shrugged.
I left his office and went to find Spelman, grabbing the case from the kitchen on the way.
She wasn’t in her room, which meant she was in the living room.
I retraced my steps and found her sitting in the living room, working on her computer.
I closed the distance between us and slammed her laptop shut.
“What the hell?” she said, looking up at me. “What’s wrong?”
“What did Amethyst tell Tulane?” I said to her.
“When?”
“When he was here,” I said, staring down at her. “What did he say to Tulane about me?” Spelman sighed and looked away. “Tell me what he said, Spelman.”
Spelman rubbed her hands against her thighs, then bit into her bottom lip. “He said he doesn’t want you around,” she said. “That you need to make your jewelry and stop calling him.”
“When did he say that?”
“Last night when he dropped off your case,” she answered. “He said that he can’t do what he needs to do if he’s worried about you.”
“Oh yeah?” I laughed as I pulled out my phone.
I dialed Amethyst’s number, and, as usual, it rang until the voicemail picked up.
His message had changed to just his name and number, and I waited for the beep.
“You got your wish, Amethyst Stone. This will be my last time calling you.” I hung up the phone and dropped it next to Spelman.
“I’ll be in my room, working on my jewels and shit.
” I lifted the case, tapped it twice, and turned to leave.
“Yale?”
“Save it, Spelman,” I said as I walked away. “I’m done caring. It’s been two months. I’m done begging a man to love me!”