If Only You Knew (10 page)

“That's nice of her. Did she invite you to the birthday party?” Sydney asked, spontaneously, not sure whether he would be offended by the question and become defensive.

“Oh, naw,” he responded easily. “It was a nice surprise to see her, but I'm not the kinda guy who believes in sending mixed signals. If we ain't together like that, I don't need to be hanging out with her fam' at the private celebrations. You know what I'm saying?”

Sydney released a small, silent sigh of relief. “I hear ya,” she said, thrilled that he had all the right answers. “So is it too late to catch our movie?”

“You know, I actually got the starting time wrong,” Jason said, pulling the tickets out of his back pocket to look at them. “Showtime starts at nine-thirty not nine-fifteen, so we're good.”

“Great,” Sydney enthused. “I've actually been dying to see this movie for the longest.”

“Me, too,” he replied casually, putting his arm around her shoulder and leading Sydney into the theater.

“Okay, that was so good,” Sydney exclaimed as the flow of the crowd pulled them along and down the escalator toward the exit.

“I know! How crazy was the scene where they were slap boxing on the wing of a moving Lear jet?” Jason questioned as he gestured wildly like a little kid. Sydney giggled softly just watching him.

“What?” he asked when he realized that she wasn't laughing at his description of Jackie Chan.

“Nothing,” Sydney said with a smile as she spontaneously reached up and gave him a quick kiss on the cheek. “You're just really cute when you're excited about something.”

Jason took her hand softly and said, “Then I guess I'm always going to be cute when I'm with you.”

“I sure hope so,” Sydney said softly as she drew small circles in his palm.

The escalator finally reached the bottom floor and the couple strolled toward the exit doors. “So what do you feel like eating?” Jason asked.

“Hmm, I'm not sure…” Sydney started, and then stopped mid-sentence. The only word she could use to describe the sight of Marcus opening the door for Dara was “Wow.” Marcus stopped cold when he finally looked up from Dara's cleavage and saw Sydney standing with Jason Danden.

“Sydney, what are you doing here?” he questioned defensively, looking at Jason like he wanted to kill him dead.

“I would ask you the same, but it's all so clear now,” Sydney hissed back as she cut her eyes to Dara, who appeared unnaturally bloated in her gray Rock & Republic jeans and Ed Hardy long-sleeve T-shirt.

Forgetting about Dara, Marcus stepped to Jason. “I don't believe we've met. I'm Marcus Green, Sydney's boyfriend of the past four years.”

“Hmm, well thank God for the future, right, Syd?” Jason smirked. And without missing a beat, the two walked out the door and into the night hand-in-hand.

“So repeat it back to me because we know how you do,” Lauren whispered into her recently recovered iPhone as she snuggled under her massive triple-down comforter. She scratched her scalp through the wilted-silk night scarf that held her wrap in place, and made a mental note to call Jamila, her hairstylist, for an appointment, seeing that her hair was a straight wreck. About this, she was not happy, because she'd have only about forty minutes after her parents headed off to church to shower, dress, put on her makeup, and get her hair to look like something other than a rat's ass before Jermaine got to the house. She may have been skipping her weekly gathering at the Lord's house to get her reunion on with her man, but that wasn't about to stop her from having a little talk with Jesus in hopes he would help a sistah get it together.

“I got you,” Donald practically yelled into the phone. “I mean damn, you said it five times, I said it four times, so unless you changed some of the details without making it plain between the last time I ran through them and now, do I really need to repeat it again?”

“Yes, dammit,” Lauren huffed, snuggling into her pillow as she put her best friend through the paces of how to keep her parents on the road while she entertained Jermaine. “I want you to be absolutely sure about—” she started. Her heart practically jumped out of her chest when she heard footsteps coming down the hall. “Hold on!” she said quickly before stashing her cell under the oversized Brookhaven Prep dance squad teddy bear propped up against her headboard. She watched the doorknob to her bedroom turn and tried not to let her eyes go wide as saucers when her mother peeked her head in.

“We're about to head to church,” said Keisha, her wide-brim church hat tottering against the doorjamb. “Edwina already left for chapel, but she left some pancakes and bacon in the warmer for you.”

“Thanks, Mom,” Lauren said sweetly, trying her best to hold it together. “Honestly, I think I'm going to take some Aleve and go back to sleep. Maybe by the time I wake up, my leg will feel better and this killer headache will have gone away,” she added, rubbing her head for added effect.

“You'll be fine, I'm sure,” Keisha said curtly. “See you in a little while.”

Hopefully, longer than that,
Lauren said to herself. “Have a good service,” she said out loud as her mother closed the door. Only when she heard Keisha inform Sydney she had five minutes to meet her in the kitchen did she dig her iPhone out from under the teddy bear and start whispering into it again. “This is serious, Donald. Now, I need you to go over the plan one more time, because if you mess this up, Keisha and Altimus are going to drown me and my man right in the driveway fountain.”

“Okay, okay. In the car on the way to church, I'm going to bring your mom's name up and remind my mom that it's been a while since we had brunch with the Dukes. Then I'm going to convince her that she should invite Keisha out after church, and I'm going to suggest we all go to Bassano's.”

“And when she says Bassano's is too crowded and she would prefer to go to the Teacup?” Lauren urged.

“I'm going to tell her that I heard that the Teacup had some rodent issues and had to be temporarily shut down for a massive cleaning,” Donald sighed.

“And?”

“And that I really have a taste for Bassano's French toast, seeing as I haven't had it since Daddy sent me away to Chicago. And then I'll search out Keisha as soon as we get
to church and make sure she and my mother connect, so she doesn't get distracted and ask someone else to brunch.”

“And then when you get to Bassano's, you'll send your plate back at least two times, and you'll take teeny-tiny bites, so that—”

“We stay for at least two hours—I know, I know already. Don't you have to get dressed for your Sunday morning date, you big heathen?”

“Yes, I do, which is why I'm hanging up now,” Lauren laughed.

“Well, don't do anything that I wouldn't do, Miss Thing.”

“That certainly leaves me open to a whole lot, doesn't it, Mr. Thing?” Lauren asked back.

“Yup—sure does!” Donald laughed. “Have some good, clean, naughty Sunday fun!” Donald yelled, and hung up.

Lauren slung her legs over the side of her bed and waited until she heard one of the four automatic garage doors creak up. She tiptoed over to her window to watch Altimus pull the Mercedes SL around the circular driveway and then high-tailed it to her closet to pull together what easily could have been a three-hour hair, makeup, and wardrobe session into only a little more than a half hour. The pressure. She could hardly believe that she would finally see Jermaine face-to-face after he'd spent weeks ducking her. She still couldn't understand why he'd insisted on not answering her phone calls,
texts, and IMs before he gave her the secret phone, but he promised last night that he would “break it down so it will forever be broke.”

“See? There you go quoting ‘love jones' again. Do you have any original lines?” she whispered into their private phone the night before, long after everyone in the house had shut off their TVs and slathered on their cold cream and said their good nights.

“I got plenty,” Jermaine said. “I just wish I didn't have to tell them to you over the phone.”

“Me, too,” Lauren sighed. “I would give anything to have you here lying next to me. I want to feel your arms wrapped around me, feel your breath on my face.”

“I know, me, too. But it's just not safe, Lauren,” Jermaine said. “I've been over it in my mind a thousand times, and I just can't figure out how to see you without someone catching us—me.”

“Come here!” Lauren said.

“What?” Jermaine asked, incredulous. “You want me to walk right into the belly of the beast?”

“That's why it's a brilliant plan, don't you see?” she asked. “My family goes to church every Sunday. I'll just fake like I can't make it this week. So while they're out, you're in. Nobody would expect you to have the balls to walk up into the crib!”

Jermaine thought about it for a moment, and, despite that
everything within his being was telling him this was a bad idea, he finally agreed. “What time?” he asked.

“They leave at seven-thirty for the eight
A.M.
service, and they don't usually get back until about ten or so. And since tomorrow is a first Sunday, they'll even have to stick around a little longer for communion.”

“I don't know,” Jermaine hedged. “What about your sister? Are you sure she's going to go? And just how you gonna get out of going with them? And what about the neighbors? How am I going to get to the front door without anybody seeing me? It just seems risky, Lauren, and that's my ass if we get caught.”

“Let me worry about your ass and all that other stuff, too, okay? I need to see you. Come here. Take MARTA and come in through the back door at eight-fifteen, no earlier. I'll take care of everything else.”

His image appeared in her mirror, just over her left shoulder, as she was putting the last bobby pin into the messy bun she was pulling together. Sheer terror crossed Lauren's face; she screamed so loud she was sure the neighbors, if they were home, would have heard her. Jermaine, thrown off by her scream, jumped and yelled, “Oh, shit—what?”

Lauren spun around. Her frightened eyes instantly smiled when she realized the strange man who appeared in her mirror was her man. “Ohmigod, you scared the mess out of me!”
she squealed, jumping into his arms and squeezing him really tight.

“You told me to come in the back door. I walked through the house, heard something up here, and figured it was you,” Jermaine said, accepting her embrace.

“I just wasn't expecting you to come up is all—no biggie,” Lauren gushed. “I'm so glad you're finally here.”

He pulled back from her arms and took her face in his hands. “Look at you, Lauren. You're so beautiful. God, I've missed you,” he said, leaning in and kissing her lips once, then twice, then again and again. Lauren put her arms around his neck and got into it, slightly parting her lips to accept his tongue. He tasted like wintergreen breath mints. She loved wintergreen breath mints.

“I've missed you, too,” she said, between hugs and smooches. “Don't ever stay away from me that long again,” she admonished.

“It's not like I had a choice,” Jermaine said, stepping back and leaning against the bathroom wall. “Your pops? He got a brotha on the run, on the real.”

“Jermaine, you just got here, and I haven't seen you in almost a month. I don't want to talk about my father or what's happened or what might be going on. I just want you,” Lauren said, walking close to him and rubbing her body against his. “We don't have a lot of time…”

“That's exactly why we need to talk, Lauren. We don't
have a lot of time, and there are some things you need to understand and understand quickly.”

“Can't we save the serious talk for the phone?” Lauren asked, pouting. “I just want us to enjoy each other.”

“Lauren, I feel you. But your pops, man, he got me trippin'.”

“Which one?” Lauren asked.

“What do you mean which one?” Jermaine asked as Lauren pulled him into her room and gently sat him down on her bed.

“Which one of my fathers got you all twisted out? Altimus or Dice?”

“Why would I be scared of Dice?” Jermaine asked, frowning.

“Well, he
is
in prison under suspicion of having killed your brother, isn't he? And for violating his parole?” Lauren said quizzically.

“Hold up. You really think your father is responsible for this, not your stepfather?” Jermaine asked.

“Well, I don't really consider Dice my father—I prefer to think of him as the sperm donor who got lucky with ole Keisha,” Lauren said, half laughing.

“Damn, you know less than I thought—or maybe more, I can't figure out which,” Jermaine said, standing up. He rubbed his hair with both hands and walked toward Lauren's window. “Damn.”

“What?” Lauren said.

“Listen to me. You need to know that Altimus Duke is not to be played with,” Jermaine demanded, perhaps more forcefully than he intended.

“I think I know a lot more about Altimus Duke than you think,” Lauren snapped.
God, this wasn't how this was supposed to go,
she said to herself. The plan she wanted to stick to was the one where he held her in his arms, told her how much he missed her, and they smooched and cuddled and stuff. She wished he would stay on subject.

“Look,” he said. “I didn't mean to snap at you, Lauren. It's just that there's a lot of stuff happening that you don't know about, and the block is hot around my way.”

“Then why don't you tell me what's going on, so that we both know what's up?” Lauren huffed.

Jermaine sighed and shook his head. “It's just that up until now, I was sure they had the wrong guy in jail. I mean, he and my brother didn't exactly get along, but—”

“Hold up. How did Dice know Rodney, anyway?”

“They were in the pen together, and had some kind of dealings once the both of them got out. But I thought they were mostly friendly visits,” Jermaine said, rubbing his temples.

“Well, is there anything you've heard that would make you think differently about their relationship?” Lauren asked.

“You're his child,” Jermaine said simply.

“And?” Lauren huffed. “I'm Altimus's child, too.”

“Tell me about it!” Jermaine said. “I haven't heard anything but how I need to lay low because of your daddy. Yo, on the real? Altimus is a hood figure with connections that run real deep.”

“Don't get it twisted. Dice is no angel and, quite frankly, I wouldn't be surprised if he had something to do with all of this,” Lauren said, rolling her eyes.

“Yeah, well, as much as you may think Dice is involved, I believe Altimus knows what's up.” Jermaine said.

“Why are you the one doing all the investigating, anyway?” Lauren asked, turning his face toward hers. “Isn't that what the police are for? Why not let them sort it all out? I don't understand why you have to be all twisted up in it.”

“It was my brother, Lauren,” Jermaine said, standing up from the bed and walking toward the window. “It would be nice to sit around waiting for the police to do their job, but it don't go down like that in the SWATS. If anybody knows anything, they damn for sure ain't telling the police, and if something happens to your people, you handle it yourself. I don't know exactly why my brother got beat down on our front lawn, but I get the feeling that it has something to do with you and me. And until I get to the truth, I can't stop.”

Lauren was quiet. And then: “I met someone last week who told me you were in serious danger.”

“That's the general consensus around my way,” Jermaine said, half laughing.

“But I'm thinking this person may be able to help us figure this all out,” Lauren said. “Maybe. He's my uncle.”

“Damn, L, I'm already running away from both your daddies, you gonna bring your uncle up into it?” Jermaine huffed.

“Calm down, damn. Hear me out,” Lauren insisted. “I met him last week when I came to the West End looking for you.”

“Yo, you gotta stay out of the West End, for real—”

“Shh!” Lauren said, putting her finger to her lips. “Just listen. I have a good feeling about him. He actually saved me from the beat-down your girl Brandi was ready to deliver.”

“Brandi, huh?” Jermaine said, recalling Lauren's earlier run-in with his homegirl, who was forever trying to hook up with him.

“Uh, yeah. We'll have to sidebar on her role in the Jermaine saga, but right now, let's focus on Uncle Larry. I don't know what it is about him, but he seemed like he might know a little somethin', somethin'. I also felt like he might be willing to help.”