Body By Night (15 page)

“Where’s her boyfriend?”

“He’s MIA; the police are looking for him now. They found her body down by Griffith Park, Dee. She’d been dead at least a week. But there were no scars or signs of struggle; that’s why they don’t know whether or not it was accidental.”

“Nobody should die like that.”

“Miss Ann keeps blaming herself. Connie’s flying in on Friday. The wake is on Monday and the funeral Tuesday. Miss Ann wants us to help with the program and stuff. She said she doesn’t know if she can, you know, pick out the clothes and—”

“I’ll be there,” D’Andra said. Whatever was needed, she’d give whatever she could. Connie and Dominque rounded out the Fabulous Four who’d won the contest back in fourth grade. They’d all admired Connie when she decided to move across the country to attend Howard University. They were even more impressed when several years after graduating she married her college sweetheart, now an attorney, and had twins, a boy and a girl. The last time they’d seen her was two years ago, when Chanelle and D’Andra had flown to DC to help celebrate Connie’s husband’s thirtieth birthday. That had happened not long after the intervention; Dominque had been the missing piece to the picture-perfect weekend.

Chanelle’s voice broke. “Thank you, Dee. It will be so good to see you, I’ve got so much I want to say.”

“This is about Dominque, Nelly, nothing else.”

“This is about friends, D’Andra; and how quickly they can be taken away…forever.”

“Where are we meeting on Friday?”

“Over at Miss Ann’s.”

Dominque’s mother still lived where her daughter had grown up. Re-entering that house would be like stepping back twenty years. But at one time Miss Ann had almost been like a second mother. She’d do it for her, and for Dominque. “See you then.”

“You need to go home, Night. Get some proper sleep. I’ll watch over your mama.” Robert added bass to his voice in an attempt at sounding stern.

Night shook his head. “Can’t. Not until she opens her eyes.”

His uncle placed a hand on Night’s shoulder, nodding understanding. The jaws of life couldn’t have pried him away from Jewel’s side after her heart attack last year. Even after the beats had stopped and the line had gone smooth on the EKG machine, he’d refused to believe she was gone. Even after all the tubes were removed and her skin began to cool, he still stayed there just in case. Just in case by some miracle she opened her eyes. But she hadn’t, and the agony of seeing her sister, Night’s mother, lying in the same hospital was almost too much to bear, brought back images too painful to remember. But this was his favorite nephew and he wasn’t going anywhere. He owed the boy that, and his mother that much more.

“Go on home, son.” Now it was Carter Johnson’s turn to try and convince Night to get some much needed rest. “You don’t want to end up in a bed next to your mother, do you?”

Night looked at his stepfather and managed a smile. This man had been a stalwart of strength since coming into Night and his mother’s life when Night was fourteen years old. He’d gladly given the man-of-the-house reins to Carter when he entered the picture, but right now, Night felt that he was the man his mother needed most. And he wasn’t leaving her side.

“When she opens her eyes,” he said softly. He then grasped the hand of the woman he loved more than life itself and continued the one-way conversation he’d been having for seven straight days.

“Hey there woman; since when don’t you return phone calls?” There was more sass than bite to Elaine’s words, as she gave D’Andra a sisterly hug.

“I meant to call you back yesterday, but when I thought to do it I knew you’d be sleeping. Thanks for the flowers, though. Even though it said Heavenly Haven, I know that was your doing. It was thoughtful and I appreciate it.”

“That’s what friends are for.”

D’Andra couldn’t help but think about the emphasis being placed on friendship these days. It had been healing for her to spend time with Connie and Chanelle. They made an unspoken pact to let bygones be bygones for the time they were together and for the brief days surrounding Dominque’s funeral; it almost felt like old times. D’Andra knew Chanelle still wanted to talk about what happened, but D’Andra wasn’t sure she wanted to hear the details. Still, she agreed to call her when her life calmed down. They’d left it at that, past the stalemate but not yet on the road to renewed friendship.

D’Andra ran these facts down quickly to Elaine before asking what she’d missed during her days off.

“Oh, this is a good one. The office is all abuzz about this guy who came in to check out our rehab unit. Half the women who saw him are already in love with him and the other half wished they’d seen him.”

Still hurting from Night’s disappearing act, the last thing D’Andra wanted to talk about was men. This obviously wasn’t Elaine’s problem.

“I must say he’s extremely good-looking,” Elaine went on. “He was just leaving as I came on for a double shift around three. Tall, dark and handsome almost doesn’t do justice to a looker like him. I think his name is JaJuan.”

D’Andra snapped to attention. “What’d you say?”

“JaJuan,” Elaine said nonchalantly, then noticed D’Andra’s changed demeanor.

“Do you know him?”

“Night’s real name is JaJuan,” D’Andra answered, sitting up straight. She couldn’t imagine that fate would play such a cruel trick as having another JaJuan come into her life at this moment. “I wonder why he’d be looking at our rehabilitation facility.” The equipment? No, D’Andra reasoned, that couldn’t be it.

“His mother was in an accident and just came out of her coma yesterday. She was extremely fortunate; no internal injuries and hopefully no sustained brain damage. Looks like her biggest problem is a busted right leg. That’s what he was checking out our rehab center for…they want to begin her treatment as soon as it has healed.”

D’Andra digested Elaine’s words in silence. So this is where Night had been and probably what he’d said when he’d finally left a message while D’Andra was at Dominque’s funeral. She’d been so angry, she’d erased the message without listening to it. When would she learn not to assume? Everybody knew what they said about that word, that it normally made an ass out of “u” and “me.” She hoped she wasn’t too late to salvage yet another friendship, maybe the most important one of all.

“I have to go,” she said, rising from the table at the back of the cafeteria where she and Elaine had sat for privacy. “I need to make a phone call.”

Ten minutes later, D’Andra was back on her ward making the rounds. It hadn’t surprised her that she’d gotten voice mail at three o’clock in the morning. But she’d done what she needed to do. Now all she could do was wait.

The blinding sunlight told Night it was late in the day. He rolled over lazily, stretched long and hard. It was the first full night in his bed for more than a week; his extended stay on a hospital cot with bird baths for cleaning had been harder on him than he realized.

Night thought of the moment and broke into a huge smile; the moment his mother, Val Johnson, had opened her eyes. It was just after one o’clock in the morning two days ago. He was by her side as he’d been for most of the time since her arrival. Not able to keep his eyes open for one minute longer, he’d laid his head on the side of her bed, his hand holding hers.

“JaJuan?”

At first he thought he’d fallen asleep and was dreaming. And then it came again.

“JaJuan, what are you doing in my room?”

Those were the first words his mother spoke since surviving a terrible car accident with a broken arm, a busted up leg and being in a comatose state for almost a week.

The room became a beehive of activity after that. Doctors were called, nurses came in, check after check was conducted to properly assess her state of mind and well-being. It was almost three o’clock before Night was finally convinced that his mother would live, that she was going to be fine. She’d need extensive rehabilitation for the leg, but no major organs had been injured and there was no permanent brain damage. Night wasn’t known for being a man of prayer, but he sent a thousand thanks to God that morning.

The second set of thoughts after those about his mother was of D’Andra. His calls to her had gone unanswered. He could only imagine what she’d assumed when he was a no show for their date. He belatedly realized he should have called the night of the accident but forced himself not to worry, however.
As soon as she knows the truth
, he thought,
we’ll be back on track.

A few moments after stepping out of the shower, a smile was back on his face. He’d checked his messages after he got dressed and was thrilled to hear D’Andra’s voice. He couldn’t dial back fast enough. Just as the phone rang on the other line, so did his doorbell.

He flipped the phone shut and walked down the hall. His stepfather had been worrying about him and Frank, the photographer, about as close to a second father as anyone could ask for, had also left a message threatening bodily harm if he didn’t get a return phone call before the sun went down. It didn’t surprise him that the old man had chosen instead to do a drive by.

“Some people just can’t…D’Andra!” Night hadn’t looked through his peephole and was totally taken off guard. “I was expecting someone else.”

D’Andra’s heart sank. “Oh.” She turned to leave.

“No, it’s not what you’re thinking.” Night’s firm grasp on her arm stopped D’Andra’s retreat. “I was expecting Frank, or my stepfather, Carter. I’m so glad it’s you.”

His chocolate orbs bore deeply into D’Andra’s hazel ones, melting her in an instant. “I heard about your mother,” she whispered. “I’m sorry.”

The sincerity of her compassion went straight to Night’s heart. “Come inside,” he said softly.

As soon as he closed the door, they were in each other’s arms. In a moment they realized how much they needed each other, had missed each other. D’Andra basked in the feeling of Night’s arms around her. She felt protected and safe, like she could finally take off the mask of strength she’d worn for her family and friends the past week. She didn’t even realize she was crying until Night wiped her tears.

“There, doll, it’s okay.” Night hugged her closer to him, relishing her softness and warmth. Where before he’d felt discomfited, he now felt anchored, as if his topsy-turvy world had suddenly righted itself. He pulled away just enough to see D’Andra’s eyes. He could get lost in those eyes. His eyes moved to her lips, soft and inviting, pulling him like a magnet. He licked his own soft, plush lips before lowering his head to meet hers.

At first their kiss was soft and tentative. But when D’Andra reached up and wrapped her arms around Night’s neck, it unleashed a hunger he didn’t know he possessed. He probed her lips with his tongue and when she opened her mouth, plunged in with fervor. Their tongues dueled and danced as he crushed her breasts against his chest, massaging her back and generous backside.

“I need you,” he said simply.

He took her hand and led her down the hall to his bedroom. No words were spoken as he turned to her and pulled off her baby doll top. He reached his hands inside the band of her pants and pulled downward, taking a moment to kiss D’Andra’s thighs and stomach as he knelt. While he handled her pants, D’Andra undid her sports bra and let it join the pile of clothes beside her. She stood in her “Vintage Flirt” hipster panties and watched Night strip from his T-shirt and pants. He wore no underwear and his engorged manhood sprang forth with the power of a python, and a head just as large. She instinctively covered her breasts but in that moment Night stepped forward and removed her hands, replacing them with his tongue, his lips. He suckled first one nipple and then the other before burying his head in her weighty mounds. D’Andra gasped at the power she felt in that moment.

“I need you,” Night repeated softly.

“Yes,” was D’Andra’s breathy reply.

Night guided D’Andra to the bed and laid her down, before going to his drawer for protection.

“Let me,” D’Andra said. She took the packet from Night’s hand and while lovingly massaging his massive manhood took the steps to ensure both their safety.

Night joined D’Andra on the bed. Their foreplay was slow and deliberate, each committing the other’s body to memory. Night feasted on D’Andra’s plump lips before continuing an oral journey down the length of her body. After he’d paid full attention to each and every part, he lapped the nectar from her personal paradise as if it were his life’s force. D’Andra cried out in ecstasy as she gave way to wave after wave of blissful release. She wanted to return the favor and worship at Night’s sexual shrine, but he had other plans. He hovered over her for only an instant, staring deeply into her eyes, before plunging to the hilt, backing out and plunging again. They set up the timeless rhythm of love, at first slow and methodic and then rapid and intense. When they simultaneously met at the apex of ecstasy, the shouts were of joy and triumph…and of feeling complete and whole.

A few hours later, D’Andra woke with a start. She was disoriented and it took a moment of clearing her head to remember where she was and what had happened. Then she shifted ever so slightly and came up against the hardness of Night Simmons. The smile on her face was instant and sincere. She had never been happier in her life. While hers had not been a promiscuous life by any means, she’d had her share of lovers. Without a doubt, none could compare to what she’d just experienced. Her body throbbed from the memory alone.

Night stirred beside her and opened his eyes. The peaceful countenance was soon replaced by anxiety.

“Oh no, what time is it?” he said, tossing back the sheet that covered them both and reaching for his cell phone. “Mom is probably wondering where I am.”

D’Andra scooted up behind him. She massaged his neck and shoulders, then pressed her breasts against his back. “I’m sure she’s fine,” she cooed, giving him the same comfort he’d offered her earlier.

And she was. The phone in her room was continuously busy, but Night was able to reach a nurse who informed him that his mother had slept throughout much of the day and was entertaining guests at the very moment he called. Night knew those guests were probably Carter and Frank, and belatedly realized his mother’s line had probably been busy because of her constantly calling and caring church friends.

His concerns quieted, he rested back against the pillow, pulling D’Andra with him. She nestled her head on his shoulders and swept her hand back and forth across the six-pack she’d admired from the first time they met. They lay in companionable silence for a moment and then Night asked an unexpected question:

“Do you want to meet my mother?”