Between Friends (16 page)

Read Between Friends Online

Authors: D. L. Sparks

Tags: #Fiction, #Suspense, #General, #African American Police, #Urban Life, #Thrillers, #African American

BOOK: Between Friends
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Chapter Twenty
Idalis
“Trip, this is Idalis. Can you please call me when you get this message?”
I left Trip a second message before hanging up. When I finally woke up and rolled over he was gone, no note or anything. I was a little disappointed because I didn't get a chance to talk to him about what was going on with Linc. I knew if anybody would be able to tell me what to do, he would.
I stood in front of the huge bay window, which had my mother's front yard on display. The colorful flowers we'd planted for Mama were struggling to take their rightful place in the garden in spite of the heat. I guess that was the approach I had to take. No matter what my environment was, I had to make the choice to wither or to bloom.
My cell phone rang; it was Lincoln. I thought about letting him roll to voice mail, but changed my mind. His temper was the last thing I needed right now.
“Hello.”
“How's your grandmother?”
“No word yet.” I sank down onto the couch.
“Anyone there with you?”
“No. I don't know where India is.”
Linc got quiet for a moment. Cameron was playing in the hallway rolling cars back and forth on the hardwood. Somehow that simple playful act seemed much louder now than it had in the past.
“You hear about ya boy's pot'na.”
I stood to my feet. “No. What about him?”
“He got popped last night.”
My hand shot up and covered my mouth. “Oh my God.”
He let out a small chuckle. “Yeah. He over at Grady. Don't look good.”
My heart dropped.
I wasn't sure what time he'd left, but I figured he'd gotten a call at some point and didn't want to wake me. That had to be why he wasn't answering his phone.
He asked, “So you haven't talked to him?”
“No, Linc”—I walked to the front door and peered out—“I haven't.”
“What's Cameron doing?”
“He's right here playing. Where are you?”
“Getting ready to leave the house.”
I asked, “You stayed there last night?”
“Yeah. It was weird not havin' you here.”
I swallowed hard. For a moment he seemed “normal.” There was no anger or hatred in his voice. For a brief moment I thought I might have wanted things to go back to the way they were, but I knew they would never be the same.
His voice cut into my thoughts. “When you plan on comin' home?”
“I'm not sure. I may try to get by there tonight.”
Again. More silence.
I cleared my throat. “I really would like to sit down and talk. We have a lot going on that we need to sort out.”
“Idalis, I already told you. We're not canceling the wedding.”
“I know what you said, but—”
“I gotta go,” he said, cutting me off. “We'll talk later.”
He hung up without giving me a chance to say anything else.
I stared at my phone for a moment before placing it on the table.
 
A couple hours later, India made it back. She looked refreshed, like she'd had a hot shower and something good to eat. Her hair was slicked back in a ponytail and her face was fresh, no makeup, just a thin shiny layer of lip gloss. She'd obviously stopped by a friend's house and got herself together.
She was wearing a pair of Capri pants and a T-shirt with a picture of Tweety Bird on the front and a caption that read:
Chick With Brains.
We were the textbook version of a before-and-after picture.
“You need to go take a shower. You look a mess; and when you look a mess, you make me look bad,” India remarked.
She placed a couple bags of groceries on the kitchen table alongside a bag of takeout. The kitchen filled with the smell of Chinese food; my stomach rumbled to life.
She pulled plates down from the cabinets without saying anything.
I sat pushing apps around on my phone, pretending she wasn't there. You would've thought that we would've put our differences aside, but it seemed like this was an even bigger wedge between us.
I heard her keys hit the table. “Did Mama call?”
“No.”
I stood up and started pulling groceries out of the bags. I had to do something or I was gonna go crazy. I was overwhelmed with more emotions than any one person should have to deal with at one time or in one lifetime for that matter.
“Have you slept?” she asked.
I shook my head.
“Come on, eat something, Idalis. Then you need to lay down.”
“I'm not hungry.”
I heard plates hitting the wooden table behind me. “You need to eat something.”
She scooped Cameron up and set him up at the table with a sandwich, fruit, and a juice box. I sat in a daze as she scooped shrimp fried rice onto my plate.
“Lincoln called. Trip's partner was shot last night.”
“What?” The spoon she was using hit the table with a loud clang.
I put a forkful of rice into my mouth. It nauseated me, but I chewed and swallowed it, anyway.
She picked at the edges of her egg roll. Not saying anything.
I pushed my plate away from me and headed to the front porch. I stood there for a moment and let the wind swirl around my body. The sky was on fire, with various shades of red and orange. The weight of the day was slowly forcing the sun down in the western sky. It was much cooler than it had been earlier.
My mind was with my grandmother. I imagined her lying in her hospital bed, fighting for her life. When my father died, she had made it a point to help my mother with raising us and keeping us on the right track. Mama never did remarry, so it was never easy for her raising twin girls and trying to keep food on the table.
My grandmother filled in the gaps whenever she could, whether it was letting us spend the weekend so our mom could get some rest, or making sure we ate dinner after school, before we headed home. I spent many hot summer nights on this porch, getting my hair braided and complaining to her about everything from boys to the fact that I believed India had to be adopted, regardless of the fact that we were twins.
“Grammie, something's wrong with her,” I used to argue.
As I got older, our conversations went from schoolgirl complaints to a woman in search of the answers to life's lessons. She would always give me the same advice:
“Figure out whatever the hardest thing is to do, and you do it, because that's usually the right choice.”
I returned a call from Dionne and updated her on what was going on. She told me that everything was going okay with the club and that everyone was praying for my grandmother. After I thank her, I hung up and tried Trip again.
The phone rang twice before his voice came across the line.
“What's up, baby girl?”
“I heard about Phil. I'm so sorry.”
“Not your fault.”
“I know, but I know how close you two are.”
We talked about how terrible it was that his partner and my grandmother were both hospitalized, battling for their lives.
He asked, “You need me to stop by?”
I chewed my bottom lip. My mind said no, but my heart was screaming yes. “If it's not out of your way,” I finally said.
“Gimme about an hour, and I'll be by there.”
He hung up, and just like that, he was on his way.
By the time Trip made it to my mother's house, India was sprawled out on the living-room floor, playing with Cameron, and I was on the couch, waiting for the phone to ring. Part of me didn't want the call to come from the hospital, but a bigger part of me needed to know what was going on with my grandmother. I thought about calling, but I didn't want to worry my mother. My grandmother needed her attention right now more than I did. I was sure she would call as soon as she heard something.
When I heard the knock on the door, a sense of relief washed over me when I opened it and saw Trip standing there. I could tell he was tired. He was in his DEA T-shirt and black jeans. He wrapped his arms around me and I breathed him.
“Are you okay?”
I nodded into his chest. “Are you? How's Phil?”
He stepped into the foyer. “He's still unconscious.”
“I'm sorry.”
“Hey, Trip,” India's voice came from behind him.
A smile spread across his face as he hugged her. “Hey, girl.”
“Sorry about your partner.”
“Thanks. I'm sorry about your grandmother.”
We all stood in the foyer for a moment as a hole in time began to fill with a common bond of family and love.
We headed down the hall toward the kitchen.
I pulled a plate out of the cabinet and grabbed the leftover Chinese from the fridge. “Hungry?”
He laughed a little. “I guess I am, since you're already fixing my plate.”
“I'm going into the living-room,” India announced, heading out of the kitchen.
I felt Trip's eyes on me as I spooned the cooling food onto his plate.
“You look tired, Idalis.”
“I'm fine.” I forced a smile. The microwave beeped and I retrieved his plate, placing it in front of him. “Now eat your food.”
He laughed. “Yes, ma'am.”
“I need to get out. I'm about to go sit with Dionne at 404 for a little while.” India was standing in the doorway with her Coach bag tucked under her shoulder. “I'll be back a little later. Cameron is playing in the living-room.”
With that, she was gone.
“You two still on the outs?”
I rubbed my forehead and shrugged. “I guess we just don't have much to talk about these days.”
“Now is not the time for y'all to be beefing.”
“Yea, tell me about it.”
I went into the living-room to check on Cameron. He was munching on some Goldfish my sister had given him and running a truck back and forth on the coffee table. He stopped me before I could make it back to the kitchen.
“Mommy?”
“Yes, baby.”
“What are you doing?”
“Talking to my friend.”
“Can I talk?”
I looked toward the doorway that led to the kitchen. Trip was standing in the doorway. “Not right now, sweetie. Finish eating first.”
“Okay.” He smiled big, and I started back to the kitchen. “Mommy?”
“Yes.”
“Where's Nana?”
I stopped in my tracks and felt the lump expand in my throat. I opened my mouth to answer him, but nothing would come out. My legs got weak and I felt like they were going to give out on me.
“Your nana will be back in a little while.” Trip appeared in the hallway.
“Oh,” Cameron said. That explanation satisfied his question. He studied Trip for a second, then said, “Hi!”
“Hey, little man.” Trip smiled.
Cameron held up his truck to show him. “I have a truck.”
“I see,” Trip said, moving toward the makeshift racetrack. “That's a nice truck l'il man.”
Cameron smiled and continued to play. I leaned against the wall and tried to regain my composure. I watched them for a second, seeing how my baby was so easy about sharing his toys with this man, and how Trip quickly became wrapped around his finger as well.
The house phone rang and I jumped out of my skin. I looked at the caller ID display; it was Piedmont Hospital.
My mouth went dry. It was my mother.
“Hey, sweetie.”
“How's Grammie?”
“She's comfortable. The doctors are running another bone scan on her.”
“Why?” I asked.
“They think the cancer may have spread.” Her voice cracked just a bit. Tears once again flowed from my already swollen eyes. I did my best to hide the fact that I was crying. I didn't need my mother worrying about me too.
“Mama, do you need me to come to the hospital?”
“No. Cameron doesn't need to be around all this death. You stay put. I will be okay.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes. They are going to keep her, baby.”
“No, Mama.”

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