Love Redeemed, Book 4 (12 page)

A sales rep peeks through the black curtain that closes off the room in search of him.

“Ah! Ah!” he sucks the roof of his mouth with his tongue. “I with a customer!” Franco’s Italian accent is brutally thick, until he talks money. Then he seems second generation American.
He’s so fucking melodramatic
. The rep scurries out of the doorway and his eyes arrives back to my beautiful fiancée who’s still awestruck.  

“Are you going t
o say something, Brimm?” I urge as softly as I can muster. I’m anxious.

She slowly turns to me, finally releasing her mouth. “Jimmie is on a four year waitlist for his. And when he signed up
with a deposit
, it was six. That’s how I know his work…from Jimmie,” she whispers forcefully. “Did you know that Mr. Basso came to the U.S. with nothing and is now one of the most sought after artists? Michelle Obama has two of his paintings and is waiting on her third!”

“I sent it to her just last week,” Franco hisses
while rolling his eyes.

Rayna jumps a 180 degree
angle. “No!” she gasps. “You can’t be…” She then looks back over to me.

Franco has a contented smile plastered on his face.
Cocky bastard!
He knew my lady didn’t recognize him.

“Let’s go, Brimm. We need to discuss where we’ll hang this
Basso
,” I speak softly as I wrap my arm around her waist.

Her body is rigid
; she’s really in shock. And I’m growing annoyed by the second from simply breathing the same air as this asshole. I want my lady alone, in my bed, beneath me, shaking from the art of what’s hanging between my legs.

We give our goodbyes to Franco and make our way home.

Azmir

Thanksgiving has rolled around and is met with mixed feelings. I know it will be strange for, at least me, to be spending a family holiday with my Earth. It’s been damn near twenty years since I’ve spent a holiday with her. I don’t know what the atmosphere will be like. Coincidentally, this will be my first major holiday with Rayna as well.

I’
ve been accustomed to holiday dinners with Tara and her family. Patricia would make a big to do over the linens, silverware, and even her apron, attempting the ideal family meal. Big D would entertain her pretentious antics the way he’d always placate her idealisms. Tara would be shooting off at the mouth with either a complaint or a request for some astronomical wish list item. And I would, I guess humor her as well, just to get through the damn meal. After dinner, I’d cop a spot in front of the television for the game. After a few years, I’d watch television until I could no longer take the mundane of it all and would leave to get some work done. Big D and I never discussed business during family events, so he wasn’t much company.

This year, I ha
ve a new family and a new lady. And the new family is my mother and Samantha. My mother invited her girlfriend, Pam, from Chi-town out. I think it’s nice that my mom has reconnecting with her old buddies. With Rayna’s mom being in attendance I don’t know what to expect. Samantha has been trying to move at Rayna’s pace with reuniting. And if I know my Rayna, she’s giving her mother a hard way. I will not involve myself in their affairs. So long as Rayna isn’t hurt, I have no problems with stepping aside and allowing them to work through this alone. I have my own adjustment issues with Yazmine. We’re good, finding our way amenably.

On our way over to Redondo Beach, Rayna d
oesn’t talk much. I don’t know if it’s her nerves or she just enjoys the peaceful quiet, but when I shut off the engine she doesn’t budge.

I turn to her.
“Are we good, little girl?”

Rayna’s
eyes rise to mine and I can see her pupils flip. She goes from introspection to company that quickly.

“Y-yeah…I’m good. Are you ready?”

Her eyes dance between mine. I can now tell she’s pensive.
But what can I do?

“Are you going to be okay in there? I don’t know about you, but this is the first holiday meal I’m having with my Earth in two decades. My head’s a little fucked up right now.” I tr
y warming to her.

She turn
s her gaze to the house, considering what I’ve said. After a few beats, she sighs, “Yeah, this is quite unusual, isn’t it?” Her tone is just as forlorn as her words. She then turns back to me. “But we’ll be fine.” Then she cracks a beautiful smile. “Let’s go. I’m starving.” She kisses me, hungrily sucking my bottom lip before slipping out of the Wrangler.

I
go to the rear cargo area to grab the turkey. Rayna spent the entire morning in the kitchen, preparing a maple-pear glazed bird. The damn thing is big enough to feed at least my
Cobalt
staff. We climb the steps to the porch and she rings the doorbell. Her eyes are everywhere below her neckline. I can swear she’s nervous. Before I can ask, the door swings open.

Yazmine thr
ows her hands in the air. “Beloved, y’all here!” she shrieks as she engulfs Rayna in the biggest embrace.

Rayna reciprocate
s, “Mrs. Jacobs! I’m starving.”

“We ready for ya, baby. C’mon in!”

Rayna makes her way inside and Yazmine turns to me. “Mir-Mir, you got a big ass bird there. Come, put it down. Is it cold?” she reaches up as I stoop down to allow her to kiss my cheek. “You so damn tall, beloved. Just like your uncle.” She always said that when I was a kid coming up. My uncle was her brother, whom I’ve never met. He was killed in war before I was born.

“No, it’s straight from the oven.”

I walk into the house and head straight to the kitchen. It’s funny, each time I’m here, I never feel familiar with the place. Rayna hadn’t lived her long enough for me to acclimate myself to it. I find my way to the kitchen where I see Samantha, over the stove, stirring gravy.

“Happy Thanksgiving, Mrs
. Brimm,” I greet while holding the turkey in the large broiler pan Rayna’s transported it in.

She turn
s, and with eyes as big as saucers filled with excitement, trills, “Azmir! You guys made it. Let me clear ‘da counter for the turkey—wait, is it warm already?” The same question Yazmine had.

“No, it’s hot…been cooking all day.”

“Oh, good. Use them muscles and bring it into ‘da dining room.” She waves me on and I follow her into the dining room where she has me lay the bird in the center of the table.

I s
ee they set the table with five settings, reminding me of Pam’s arrival to the West Coast. The table isn’t mounted with Mikasa and crystal glasses like Patricia’s, but is built with great expectation of enjoying the holiday. I watch Samantha quickly remove the lid and foil from the turkey. It looks great. I often forget that my lady can cook. She only does it on the weekends when we’re not traveling, which isn’t often because I’m always whisking her off for a short stay somewhere. So, when I get her cooking, I’m amazed.

Samantha turn
s to me with a wide smile that resembles mine. “She did good.” Her cheeks are high with pride.

“Yes, she did,”
I nod. Speaking of which, “I’m going to put my jacket away and find Rayna,” I murmur before heading out.

“Okay. We should be ready ta’ eat in like
ten minutes,” Samantha calls out behind me.

I f
ind Rayna in the living room with Pam. Yazmine is hanging her coat and yells out for me to bring her mine. As I stroll over to drop my jacket, I see Pam is holding up two bottles of cheap wines to Rayna, I guess offering them to her. Yazmine and Samantha don’t drink, so Pam must be holding her favorite two.

I
sidle up behind Rayna and pull her into me. “Pam, how are you…and what do we have here?” I feel my nose wrinkling.

“Divine!”
Pam greets excitedly and I see the twinkle in her eyes.

She kn
ows me as Divine because when my mom disappeared back in Chicago, though I tried walking the straight and narrow, I still had my hand in the streets. Pam was a closeted coke lover. I wouldn’t call her an addict, but she definitely had her get-high preference. She liked to lace her weed with it on occasion. I used to fuck with her niece, Tonda, when I had initially moved to L.A.    

“How are you?”
I ask again.

“I’m good. I have my old buddy back. I’m just so happy that y’all back together
.” Pam holds the bottles of wine under her wing as she speaks animatedly. “This is a real nice spot you put them up in.”

“Thanks, but I can’t take credit for that
.” I gaze down at Rayna who’s beneath me as my hands are splayed on her shoulders. Rayna glances up at me and shooes my graciousness. “I take it that you’ve met my beautiful fiancée, Rayna.”

“Oh, yeah! She pretty as hell, Divine. Real pretty. Wait ‘til I tell Tonda. She missed out on a good thing. I hear you the man out here!”

Rayna’s cranes her neck up to look at me at the mention of Tonda’s name. I’m sure Pam isn’t attempting to be rude. She just lacks etiquette and doesn’t know that you’re not supposed to reference a former lover in the presence of a current lover—or in my case, a fiancée.

“That won’t be necessary. Tonda is a grown woman now, who I’m
sure has gone on to better options.”

Before Pam
can put her other foot in her mouth again, Yazmine yells out, “Dinner is ready, y’all.”

We all turn in the direction of the small dining room where Yazmine
has summons us to. When I turn back, I comment, “I’m a whiskey man.” I nod towards the bottles Pam is cradling. “And Rayna was just complaining of a headache on the way in.” I pull Rayna farther into me, garnering her attention as I continue, “I don’t think a drink right now would help with it.”

Rayna’s big eyes slowly shr
ink as she processes my request of her not drinking that cheap ass wine Pam’s offering.

She
looks over to Pam, “Maybe later, huhn?”

Before Pam
can reply, I order, “C’mon, let’s go wash up for dinner.” And we take off to the powder room.

In there, Rayna
hisses, “What’s the deal, Jacobs?” while washing her hands.

I furrow my eyebrows, initially confused. “What…that cheap ass wine she was trying to give you?” I scoff, “That shit’ll have you sick after one glass.”

Rayna shakes her head as she dries her hands. “Well, to help me get through this, I may need three glasses and if the only thing available is
Alizé
, then I look forward to recovering into tomorrow.”

She le
aves out of the powder room with a playful scowl on her face. This isn’t looking good already. I follow seconds later after drying my hands.

At the table, we all feast well on the spread the ladies prepared. Rayna’s
turkey is off the fucking chain and is centered by mashed potatoes, Yazmine’s famous candied yams, collard greens that Samantha made sure to cook with smoked turkey, mac-n-cheese, Yazmine’s cabbage, stuffing, ziti, roast beef, and rolls. Rayna was quiet, yet polite. Samantha isn’t much talkative either, but courteous.

“So, Divine getting married. Ain’t that something. I remember when you was damn near a baby,” Pam
giggles, clearly set nice by her candy wine.

“Yup. My boy is now a man and marrying a beautiful young lady. I c
an’t be happier,” Yazmine interjects. “I could remember when he came home from the hospital. Mmm…mmm…mmm!” she shakes her head. “Seem like yesterday.”

“I can only imagine what he was like as a boy. He definitely a fine young man now. You did good, Yaz,” Samantha spe
aks up. She’s never short of a compliment for me.

“Azmir was smart, reserved—very observant. Couldn’t get nothing over on him. But when he wasn’t into something, you would lose him. If it wasn’t for him, h
e wasn’t with it,” Yazmine pipes out.

“Reserved...hmmmm…”
Rayna whispers while eyeing me suspiciously. I know she’s teasing me. Her smile brightens my world. I wrinkle my nose to her.  

“Oh, yeah. His daddy taught him ta’ be
‘dat way.”

Pam almost interrupt
s her, “I bet he was a lady’s man, too, huhn? ‘Cause them girls in the Chi was wild over him—young and old.”

Yazmine sw
ings her head so that her ears move vertically, indicating a convoluted answer. “Not so much when he was small. Dasu trained him good and…hard.”

I observe how raptly Rayna and Samantha watch my mother tell a story that I’
ve heard a million and two times as a kid coming up. It’s not something I’ve sat through recently and I’m not exactly sure if I’m emotionally prepared for it today in front of mixed company, but Yazmine continues.

“Dasu would tell ‘dat boy all the time ‘dat he wasn’t built like the rest of ‘em. He would say
‘dat my Azmir is a warrior, a leader. He drilled into ‘dat there boy ‘dat he needed to know how to govern people and he must start with observing them because ‘dat was the only way he could conquer them.” Yazmine’s eyes turn haunted. I know those were my father’s words verbatim. I have vague recollection of them, but she uses the same phrases each time she speaks of my father’s legacy to me.

Yazmine pause
s, clearly becoming emotional by her trip down memory lane. I don’t know how to respond to it. She snorts, “After all these years, I still miss my Dasu. There ain’t no man like ‘em. Ain’t gon’ ever be.” She offers a forlorn smile.

I d
on’t notice Rayna’s gaze upon me until I feel her grab my thigh underneath the table. I turn to her to find sentimental eyes. It’s clear that she’s affected by Yazmine’s pining. Or at least that’s what I originally assume until she mouths, “I told you they knew.”

I narrow
my eyebrows, not understanding her reference. She then whispers, “The lion…your reflection,” before cutting her eyes to my mother.

“I can tell he’s done his father proud. I’m still getting to know him as a man, but I can see he did it. He made Dasu’s dre
ams come true.”

That comment
from my mother makes me wonder if my dark world had been a part of his dream. Yazmine never speaks of my father’s hustling and neither do I. Nevertheless, the fact that he and Big D had a side hustle always causes me to wonder just who my father was. There’s one thing for sure and that’s the apple didn’t fall too far from the tree when you consider me living a double life.

“
Dasu ain’t want no other kids after Mir. He said he got his boy ‘da first go round and ain’t no need to try no more. I was good with ‘dat, too.” She smiles affectionately and so does Rayna. Too much mush for me, but that’s women.

“That’s sweet,” Samantha murmur
s in wonderment.

“What type of girl was she?” Pam tosse
s her hand toward Rayna as she stuffs her mouth with a roll.