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Authors: Zuri Day

BOOK: Body By Night
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26
 

The next three weeks passed by in a blissful blur for D’Andra. March had melded seamlessly into April as she settled into her new apartment, found a Bally’s in her area, continued her day and nighttime workouts with Night, at least the nights when she wasn’t working, and registered for an online course on nutrition. She felt bad about canceling her plans to attend college, but she’d determined her life was too chaotic for a full load of courses. The online course made her feel that she was staying somewhat on track with her goals.

On top of that, she felt physically better than ever. She’d lost another five pounds and almost screamed two days ago when she put on a size sixteen dress at Lane Bryant and had room to spare. Thanks to peace, quiet and a king-sized bed she felt more rested than she had in months, even with the extracurricular activities of the Night kind. But undoubtedly the most significant event that happened was the conversation she finally had with Chanelle.

It all started when D’Andra called Connie. They discussed getting together during the summer, among other things. Near the end of their conversation, Chanelle’s name came up.

“You guys still haven’t talked, I take it.”

“No.”

Silence, and then, “She was your friend for twenty years, D’Andra. I’m not asking you to believe what she tells you. But don’t you think you at least owe her the courtesy of hearing her out, of maybe a ten, fifteen minute conversation before you close the door for the rest of your life?”

Until now, the answer had been no. But she knew what could happen when one assumed, without all the facts. For the first time, she seriously thought about taking her friend’s advice.

“So Connie, if you walked in and saw Will screwing another woman, you honestly believe you’d give her an opportunity to tell her side of the story?”

“I would if it were you, D’Andra. I’d want to know how my best friend, who’d been with me since we were ten, could betray me like that. I’d definitely have the conversation. Now, I may kick your ass after hearing the explanation, but I’d want to know what you had to say for yourself.”

The conversation ended, and after another thirty minutes of intense thinking, D’Andra phoned Chanelle. They agreed to meet, and were soon sitting at an outdoor café in Leimert Park, a Black business enclave in south Los Angeles.

“I’d had too much to drink that night,” Chanelle began shortly after they’d gotten their coffees and were seated. “Me and my date got into an argument, and he left without me. You’d already gone by then, and when I saw Charles, I asked him to drive me home.

“On the way, he asked if I was hungry. I knew I needed to put something in my stomach to soak up all the alcohol, and said yes. We stopped, got some KFC, and then Charles wanted something to drink and stopped at a liquor store.”

Chanelle paused and looked at D’Andra, who returned her unflinching gaze.

“When we got to my house,” she continued, “Charles said he had to use the bathroom. After he finished, he asked if I wanted a wine cooler. That’s the biggest mistake I made that night…saying yes. He asked me for a bottle opener. I gave it to him and then went to wash my hands.

“D’Andra,” Chanelle said, her eyes beginning to water. “He had to have put something in it, because I only drank one cooler and the next thing I knew I was waking up with my panties down by my ankles and that muthafucka’s cum on my thighs.”

D’Andra slowly digested this information. Chanelle’s explanation shed a whole new light on what D’Andra thought she’d seen that night. D’Andra had noticed Chanelle’s drinking, and her date was partying too. After leaving the club, D’Andra became concerned and called to make sure Chanelle was okay.

She tried the cell and home phone several times and when there was still no answer at two am, decided to drive over to Chanelle’s and check on her. She remembered being startled to see Charles’s car, and instead of knocking, looking into the living room window. When she didn’t see anyone, she’d used the extra key they had to each other’s homes and went inside. She tiptoed to the bedroom, and saw her worst fear realized.

“That’s why you didn’t answer when I hollered at you,” D’Andra said. “Because you were passed out. I thought it was because you didn’t give a damn.

“I never for one minute thought what was happening was against your will. But as long as we’d been friends, I should have known better. I’m sorry, Nelly.”

“You came and checked on your girl,” Chanelle answered. “To make sure I was all right. There was no way you could have known what was really happening. If I had seen what you saw, I probably would have jumped to the very same conclusion.”

“He should be in jail for what he did.”

“I tried to press charges. The courts wouldn’t prosecute. Said that even with DNA proving we’d had sex, it would just be my word against his. But what goes around comes around. Charles is going to get what’s coming to him. Watch and see.”

Another interesting development had occurred. There was a new patient on D’Andra’s wing of the rehabilitation center—Night’s mother, Val. Bringing her thoughts back to the present, D’Andra smiled as she walked down the hall toward her newest patient’s room.

It was just after twelve-thirty in the morning. D’Andra tiptoed into the room. She didn’t want to wake Val if she was sleeping; just wanted to do a quick check before she began her regularly scheduled round of patients. She placed a finger under her nose to feel her breathing and noted the tone of her skin. Her breath was full and even; her color rich and healthy. All looks fine here, D’Andra thought.

“You leaving without saying hello?” Val asked.

D’Andra turned around. “I didn’t mean to wake you, Miss Val. How are you doing? Are we treating you okay?”

“Everybody here is so nice. I’m being treated like a queen. But then, I think you have something to do with that.”

“You mean that death threat I put out on anybody who mistreated you?”

They both chuckled.

“Are you sleeping okay? Would you like some medication to help you rest?”

“No, baby, I’m sleeping fine. Just a light-sleeper is all, have been ever since I gave birth to Night all those years ago.”

D’Andra took Val’s blood pressure and temperature, and then adjusted her pillows.

“Get a good night’s sleep,” she admonished. “We want you fresh and ready to go when Bryan comes to work that leg in the morning.”

“You mean that pretty boy with those deep blue eyes?”

“May I remind you that you’re a married woman,” D’Andra teased.

“There’s nothing wrong with admiring the product, as long as I don’t sample the merchandise.”

A little after seven, D’Andra was ready to clock out. Elaine met her in the hallway.

“Have you heard the word, Girlfriend? Your honey is creating quite the buzz.”

“Yes, I heard,” D’Andra responded dryly. “Even Miss Daisy talked about the nice-looking
colored
man she saw in the hall.”

“I’m told that for some mysterious reason Miss Val’s vitals get taken much more often when Night’s in the room.”

“Don’t tell me, Rita and the new girl, Allison.”

“Watch Allison, that girl is hot to trot. She’s the type to slip him her phone number.”

“That’s why I thank God I’m with a man I can trust. Are we still working out together this weekend?”

“Foot loose and fancy free for one of the rare times in life? You bet!”

Elaine’s husband, Max, had joined friends in Big Bear for fishing, poker, too much drinking and male bonding. The children were in San Diego, with Max’s mom. Night would be busy Saturday checking out more potential locations for his gym. So the two work colleagues made plans for a rare weekend get together: a workout at Bally followed by a non-diet dinner and a movie, comedy preferred.

Her thoughts back to the present, D’Andra showered and got ready for bed. She’d just gone into the kitchen for a glass of water when her phone rang. She frowned slightly. It wasn’t even eight in the morning and she could count on one hand who had her number. As she went into the living room to pick up the receiver, she fought against the rising blood pressure that came with thinking an emergency had occurred.

“Dee, it’s Cassandra.”

“Hey, Cassandra. What’s wrong?” Belatedly she realized there was no anxiety on the other line.
This is a surprise.
Of the people on one hand she’d figured were calling, her younger sister was not one.

“Sorry to bother you but I wanted to catch you before you went to bed. I need a favor.”

“What’s that?”

“Can you watch the kids this weekend?”

“Sorry, Cassandra, but I have plans.”

“Come on, Dee. I really need you to watch them. I’ve got an invitation to fly to Palm Springs for the weekend.”

“You’ll have to take a raincheck,” D’Andra replied, yawning. “It’s too late for me to change my plans. I miss the little rugrats though and will be happy to watch them another weekend, when we have time to plan ahead.”

“Thanks, sister. Maybe next weekend?”

Thanks, sister?
First of all, D’Andra thought, Cassandra was not a morning person. Secondly, she usually stomped and pouted for at least five minutes before giving up on a babysitting request and, thirdly, she never
ever
called D’Andra “sister.” Something was going on.

“What’s the reason for this sunny mood? Did Anthony or Hollah propose?”

“Anthony and Hollah are history. I’ve got a new man now.”

“Girl, I can’t keep up with you.”

“For the first time in our dating history, I’m trying to keep up with you. I took one look at that chocolate candy you pulled in and knew I had to step up my game!”

“There’s a first time for everything. It sounds like you’re happy, San.”

“Happy is relative; I’m going for satisfied and paid. I just may have found my bank account.”

D’Andra didn’t respond to this comment. In this area, Cassandra had taken a page directly out of Mary Smalls’ playbook.

“Call me later,” she said instead. “I’m about to fall asleep talking on the phone.”

D’Andra made one more call, canceling her Tuesday workout with Night. After threatening to work her double on Thursday, he wished her sweet dreams. There was a smile on D’Andra’s face as she drifted off into dreamland. For the first time in a long time she and Cassandra had had a civil, even friendly conversation. It felt good, and D’Andra hoped it was the start of good things to come.

D’Andra awoke to the sounds of a dog barking near her open window. She looked at the clock and was surprised she’d slept solidly for almost nine hours straight. After a lazy stretch, she rolled over and reached for the cell phone she’d placed on silent before going to sleep.

The first message was from Night, optimistic about another building he’d looked at in Culver City. He teased her about coming over and waking her up for some noonday nooky and said he’d call her later. There was a message from the moderator of the online nutrition course wanting to know if D’Andra would be interested in meeting with those participants who lived in Los Angeles and setting up a regular, monthly pow-wow to share information, experience and needed support. The third message was Cassandra, again. But this time the sunshine in her voice was gone, replaced by sheer panic.

“Dee, what’s wrong with your phones? I’ve been calling and calling. Call me as soon as you get this message. And get down here to Martin Luther King Hospital. It’s Mama, Dee, it’s Mama. She’s had a heart attack. I don’t think she’s gonna make it.”

27
 

D’Andra threw down the phone and jumped out of bed at the same time. Five minutes later she was in her car, driving erratically and breaking speed limits to get to MLK Hospital and her mother. In the middle of this NASCAR-style speed racing she managed to speed dial Night, Elaine and Chanelle on her cell phone. She made a regularly twenty to twenty-five minute trip in half the time.

She parked in the closest spot to the emergency ward doors, not caring that it was a handicapped space. She raced into the building and looked around frantically. Kayla spotted her first.

“Aunt Dee!”

D’Andra ran over to where Cassandra, Jackie, the kids, and a couple of Mary’s friends stood huddled together. They were listening attentively to a tired-looking doctor in a wrinkled white coat.

“How is she?” D’Andra gasped out, trying to catch her breath at the same time.

The doctor turned to her. “You must be the other daughter. I’m Dr. Wein—”

“I know who you are.” Dr. Weinstein was the same doctor who’d spoken to D’Andra when she was in emergency five months ago. “How is my mother? Is she alive?”

“You’ve got to calm down, Ms. Smalls,” the doctor said in a firm yet gentle voice. “The doctors are still working to stabilize her, but we believe she’s going to pull through.”

D’Andra visibly relaxed, or almost collapsed is a better description.

“As soon as she’s completely stable, we’ll have to run a series of tests to see exactly what’s going on in the old ticker,” he said, trying to ease a very tense situation. “I don’t want to say anything further until there is specific, concrete information available.”

The doctor looked down at a sudden and somewhat forceful fist on his leg.

“You better fix my grandma!” Antoine’s face was serious, his stance one of the kick-boxing positions Night had taught him.

Dr. Weinstein, a grandfather himself, knelt down to Antoine’s eye level. “I tell you what, little man. The other doctors and I are going to do everything we can to make sure you get your grandmother back as good as new. Do you know what you can do to help me?”

Antoine shook his head no.

“You can send a whole bunch of love to your grandma by thinking good thoughts about her. This situation is scary isn’t it?”

Antoine nodded yes.

“Well, whenever you begin to feel that little shiver of fear, just send a whole bunch of I-love-you thoughts to your grandmother. You’ll be helping all of us doctors help your grandma get well. Deal?”

“Deal.” Antoine then shook Dr. Weinstein’s outstretched hand.

The small group of Mary supporters was silent as they watched the doctor’s retreating back go through the double doors down the hall. Antoine hadn’t been the only one listening to Dr. Weinstein’s instruction. Everybody in the huddle, in that moment, was sending Mary Smalls a “whole bunch of love.”

D’Andra wiped away tears even as she felt arms come around her.

“Baby doll, I’m here.” Night turned D’Andra into his chest and hugged her tightly.

D’Andra fought against breaking down completely. “Night,” she whispered. She held on to him for dear life, as if she were a sailboat flailing in a storm and he was the life anchor.

“I got here as soon as I could. How’s your mother?”

“She’s alive, thank God. The doctor said he thinks she’ll make it.” D’Andra remembered Dr. Weinstein’s words. “She’ll make it,” she said with more confidence.

Night hugged her again.

“Wait,” D’Andra pulled back from Night. “What about your other clients, your meeting…”

“D’Andra, nothing is more important than you and my being here to make sure you’re all right. Surely you know that by now.”

D’Andra nodded her head against his strong chest. “I love you,” she whispered.

Night wondered if he’d heard what he thought he heard. He squeezed her to him a little tighter. For now it was enough to believe that he had.

Within the hour, several more people joined the vigil for Mary taking place in the emergency room waiting area. Elaine came in bearing gifts: donuts, fruit and an assortment of coloring books and crayons for Cassandra’s children. D’Andra marveled at her maternal thoughtfulness even as she realized that care and compassion came as natural as breathing to her dear friend Elaine. Chanelle arrived about fifteen minutes after Elaine. When D’Andra looked up and saw Frank coming through the doors she almost lost it again, and ran into his arms.

“Thanks for coming, Frank!” she cried.

“You know I wasn’t going to leave a Berry fan hanging. How’s your mother, doll?”

“We think she’s going to…she’s going to be okay.”

“What about you? How are you doing?”

D’Andra smiled into the kind, worn face of this gentle man. “Better now.”

The cast of characters in Mary’s drama expanded then decreased over the next three hours. Everyone stood to their feet when Dr. Weinstein came into the room. That he was walking over with a smile on his face relieved everyone.

He walked over to Antoine and once again held out his hand. “You did a very, very good job,” he told the wide-eyed five-year-old. “Your grandmother is doing well, she’s resting comfortably, and I am positive she felt your love.”

Antoine looked solemnly at the doctor for a moment before throwing his little brown-skinned arms around a ruddy neck. Everyone watching held back tears.

Dr. Weinstein then addressed the larger group, telling them that they would be keeping Mary a while, that a series of tests had to be run and that everyone should go home and try and get some rest.

“When can we see her?” D’Andra asked.

“She’s pretty groggy right now. If we could limit these first visits to the daughters and maybe one or two more people, and only for a few minutes, that would be best.”

Within minutes D’Andra, Cassandra and Jackie were standing around a sleeping Mary Smalls. D’Andra held her mother’s hand tightly while Cassandra kept smoothing Mary’s hair. Without thinking, D’Andra found and took a fast-beating pulse. Jackie whispered The Lord’s Prayer under her breath. Mary’s eyes fluttered open.

Her voice was barely above a whisper. “What…what are y’all doing? Why…are…you…standing…”

“Shh, Mama. Don’t try to talk. You had a heart attack and are in the hospital. Everything’s going to be okay.”

“I…what?”

“Just take it easy, Mama,” Cassandra said. “Try and get some rest.”

“Auntie, what are you doing? Trying to scare the hell out of me? Well, just for the record, it’s working. I think I’ll go to church next Sunday, and I haven’t been since I don’t know when!”

Jackie’s outburst brought the slightest of smiles to Mary’s lips.

“Good,” she whispered.
I need to go too, if I make it out of here
, Mary thought. Her eyes lit up when she saw Cassandra, and her smile widened when she turned and looked at D’Andra. She looked at her eldest daughter a long moment. “I love you,” she mouthed. Then her eyes fluttered closed.

After a few moments, a nurse came into the room. “Sorry folks, but we need Mary to get her rest now. She’ll more than likely sleep for at least four to six hours. So if I were you, I’d go get something to eat, and some rest, and then come back tomorrow. Everyone, including your mother, will be feeling better.”

D’Andra was touched by the nurse’s bedside manner. “Oh, you’re good, you’re real good,” she said with a smile. And then she whispered in the middle-aged blonde’s ear. “And that’s spoken from one nurse to another.”

The nurse winked at her and then her demeanor changed from personal to professional as she began checking her patient. D’Andra blew a kiss to her mother and the familial trio quietly left the room.

Night looked up as D’Andra reentered the waiting room. He quickly finished his call, flipped shut his phone and met D’Andra in the middle of the room. His facial expression was a question mark.

“She was only awake for a few minutes, but there’s color in her cheeks and her breathing was fairly normal. The doctor said there was nothing we could do right now and the nurse admonished us to try and get some rest.”

“Where’s your car? I’ll follow you home.”

“That’s so sweet of you baby, but really, I’ll be okay. I know yours has been an incredibly long day already. Elaine and Chanelle are here and said they’d stay with me as long as I needed.”

“But I want to be here for you too.”

“You already are, and I appreciate it more than you know. But you’ve been working so hard, and these long hours will take their toll if you don’t get some rest. I’ll call you later, promise.”

Night hesitated, visibly torn about leaving D’Andra at such a vulnerable time.

Elaine walked up and put a hand on his arm. “We’ll take really good care of her,” she said softly. “And we’ll make sure she calls and keeps you updated on everything going on.”

“She’s lucky to have a friend like you,” Night replied to Elaine. “You too,” he said to Chanelle.

“We’re the lucky ones,” Elaine and Chanelle said in unison.

Their joint laughter lightened the mood of the room and while Mary’s friends decided to stay a while longer, everyone else headed to the parking lot. Night walked D’Andra to her car.

He opened her door and made sure she was buckled in before giving her a gentle, probing kiss full of all the love and compassion his heart felt at that moment. The poignancy of his touch moved D’Andra to tears.

She cupped his face. “What did I do to deserve you?” she asked.

“Be born,” he said simply. “Make sure you keep checking in with me so I know you’re okay.”

A short time later, D’Andra, Elaine and Chanelle sat at a 24-hour diner.

“Try and eat something,” Elaine coaxed D’Andra. “You’ll need your strength later.

D’Andra managed a few small spoonfuls of the aromatic vegetable soup she had ordered. Meanwhile both Chanelle and Elaine had finished their meals and sat silently watching their friend.

“You know,” D’Andra began, fiddling with the spoon in her soup. “My mother said ‘I love you’ to me today. I can’t remember the last time that happened.”

“Being close to death always puts things in perspective,” Elaine offered. “Maybe out of this horrific incident can come a new, more agreeable relationship between you and your mom.”

“You know Miss Mary loves you,” Chanelle said. “Some people just have a hard time saying it. My mother’s the same way. That just makes the words even more special when I hear them.”

D’Andra nodded. “I know that Mama loves me. But it sure felt good to hear the words, even whispered.”

While Chanelle and Elaine ordered dessert, D’Andra called the hospital for an update on Mary’s condition and then checked in with Night.

“I’m checking in,” she said with a smile.

“Thank you, doll. Any change with your mother?”

“No, I just called the hospital and they said she’s resting comfortably. They’ll run tests later tonight, or tomorrow, depending on how she’s feeling. Now, why aren’t you asleep already?”

“I was waiting for your call.”

His thoughtfulness nearly moved her to tears. “I love you Night.”

Night was sure he’d heard the words this time, and his heart swelled at the sound. He answered without hesitating. “I love you, too.”

D’Andra had just hung up from Night when her phone rang again. She didn’t recognize the number but answered anyway.

“Baby, it’s Miss Val,” said the voice on the other end of the line. “Night told me about your mother. I hope you don’t mind that he gave me your number and I’m calling so late.”

“Not at all, Miss Val. It’s so sweet of you to call.”

“I know how upsetting something like this can be, especially when it’s your mother. I’ve been there, and wanted you to know I was thinking about you, and praying for you, your mother and the rest of your family.”

“That means more to me than you know. I’ll carry the thoughts of your prayers with me. Now, how’s that leg?”

“You know, baby, it’s the strangest thing. But every time that cute little therapist gets to touching it I feel better.”

Val’s light humor instantly lifted D’Andra’s spirits. “You’re a mess, Miss Val. But isn’t Bryan off today?”

“Yes, child, but I’m talking about the other one, Matthew.”

D’Andra had heard about the part-time therapist the hospital had hired, but she’d never met him. She shared this information with Night’s mother. “I’m sure you’ll tell me all about him when I see you.”

“Uh-huh. I even sent Carter out for some magazines just so I could, you know, have some private time with my new friend.”

D’Andra’s laugh was genuine. “I can see I might have to come in early and make sure you behave.”

“Don’t worry, I have another new friend who’s taking care of that.”

“Who?”

“Her name is Frieda. She heard me humming a hymn when she was doing her hall walking exercise. Came in and introduced herself. She come calling me Grace the next time she came in, and I told her that if she wanted to keep coming into my room, to get my name right.”

D’Andra howled at this news. “Well, you’re a better woman than I am. She calls me Grace too, and I just call her Miss Daisy.”

“You know where that name came from, right? Now I don’t know how true this is but my mother, who was born in Mississippi, said her mother told her the old masters would often go through several housekeeper maids in as many years and instead of bothering to remember their real names would simply call all of them Grace.”

D’Andra was appalled; she’d had no idea.

“So I wanted to make sure—who do you call her—Miss Daisy and me got off on the right foot. That she understood I wasn’t born yesterday and that she’d have to get up mighty early if she wanted to pull an insult like that over on me. Anyway, you take care, baby. I’ll see you soon.”

Val’s phone call totally changed D’Andra’s demeanor and lifted her spirits. For the first time she truly believed that her mother would live. The realness of this belief revitalized D’Andra.

“Waiter?” she called out as the young man passed their table. “Can you heat up my soup?”

 

 

Jazz sat and gazed at the doors to Bally Fitness, wondering for the umpteenth time why she was there, why Night wouldn’t return her calls and why she couldn’t get him out of her thoughts. At first she placed her fixation on the fact that he’d been by far the best lover she’d ever had. Then she wondered if it had to do with knowing she’d been replaced by a woman twice her size. Finally she gave up trying to figure out why. She just knew she’d do anything to win Night back.

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