If Only You Knew (13 page)

“What? Keisha
was
the life,” Uncle Larry said, getting more agitated. “Look, I shouldn't be sitting here telling you all of this. It won't mean nothing but more trouble for me. And I've spent many years making sure my name ain't nowhere up in the middle of the mess Keisha and Altimus are
into over here in the West End. She told me to stay out of their business a long time ago, when I questioned how she could get with her man's best friend. She told me to take care of my family, and if I knew what was good for me, to let her worry about her own. She didn't have to tell me but once. I know what she's capable of. And now you do, too.”

“Does that mean she may have had something to do with my brother's murder?” Jermaine asked, moving forward in his seat.

“I told you, youngblood, I don't know nothing about all of that,” Uncle Larry practically growled. “What I do know is that anybody walking around here asking questions and giving people the ‘finding the real killer' O.J. line is as good as a dead man walking, son. You should really think about that long and hard.

“Now,” Uncle Larry said, abruptly rising from his recliner, “I, unlike the rest of my family, have a legitimate job to get to, and I can't be late.” He stood over the trio, his arms folded.

“Okay, then, Uncle Larry,” Sydney said, rising; Jermaine and Lauren did the same. “Thanks for, um, everything. It's a lot, but we're going to try to process it all and figure out what to do next.”

“I'm not so sure there's much you can do, sweet pea,” Uncle Larry said, touching Sydney's face. “Lord, y'all got my mama's eyes, you know. I knew you two would grow up to
be some knockouts. Dice and Keisha did know how to make some pretty babies.”

“Why, thank you, Uncle Larry,” Lauren gushed, squaring her shoulders and squeezing Jermaine's hand.

“Just watch your back—and be careful about the company you keep,” Uncle Larry continued, giving Jermaine a slow once-over.

“Yo, out of respect for my girl here, I'm not going to get into it with you,” Jermaine said. “But you don't know nothing about me, money. My brother is dead, and all I'm trying to do is find out who did it, and why. That was my fam, B. What kind of man would I be if I didn't question?”

“You'd be alive, fam,” Uncle Larry said simply. “Alive.” And then, turning to Sydney, he said, “Look, I don't need him walking out of my house in the company of you two, so I need youngblood here to go out first. Y'all go through the garage and get in my car. I'll drop you off at the train station south of the West End stop, so nobody sees you leaving.”

The trio moved toward the steps.

“And I suggest that you not come back,” Uncle Larry added quietly.

“Okay, I am so not mad,” Sydney murmured as she slowly made a three-hundred-and-sixty-degree turn in her full-length mirror. As a result of all the stress over the last month and a half, she'd dropped at least eight pounds without so much as one nasty wheat grass shot. Her once solid size four figure was now nearly a two. More important, the new dark gray stretch True Religion jeans she'd picked up at Jeffrey on her way home from volunteering at the Better Day were fitting like a skinny bitch's dream.

At the sound of her cell phone buzzing across her desk, Sydney hurried out of her closet. “Shoot,” she said, just missing the call. Pulling up the call history, she read Jason's name. Immediately filled with guilt, Sydney debated calling
him back now or after her coffee date. Finally, she put the phone down and headed into the closet to finish getting dressed.

Ten minutes later, Sydney was still undecided about the sequined print L.A.M.B. long-sleeve T-shirt she wore. Contrary to her normally much more conservative clothing picks, she had decided to celebrate her first time getting her hair blown out in over four years by trying something a little different. As she flipped her now pin-straight tresses, she thought it might be a tad too much.
Marcus is already going to have a heart attack when he sees my hair,
she thought as she pulled it over her head exposing a blue-and-white polka dot bra. Sydney reached for a plain white Calvin Klein wrap top with a deep V-neck. Once she added her red-banded Michele watch and the two-carat diamond solitaire necklace that matched her studs perfectly, she felt ready to go. “Not too bad,” she said to her reflection as she smoothed down the already straight middle part so that her slightly bumped hair perfectly framed her clear face.

She grabbed her cherry-red Fendi bag and headed out as soon as she heard a familiar light tapping at her semiclosed bedroom door. “Come in,” she called out.

“Miss Sydney, Marcus is waiting for you downstairs,” Edwina informed her with a small smile.

“Okay, thanks,” Sydney replied as she transferred the contents of the caramel-colored Hogan bag she rocked earlier
in the day at school. “Um, quick question: Are my black ankle boots with the steel heel still downstairs?

“Yes, miss,” Edwina replied. “Would you like me to send Marcus up?”

“Actually, I'll be down in two seconds,” Sydney replied as she tossed in her phone and scanned the room for the new pack of Dentyne Ice she had bought earlier.

“Okay, Miss Sydney,” Edwina answered as she headed out the door without another word.

“Where is it, where is it?” Sydney mumbled as she got down on her hands and knees to look under the bed. Not finding it, she stood up, completely frustrated. “What the hell,” she grumbled as she gave up her fruitless search, grabbed her bag, and headed down the hall.

“Hey, you got any gum?” Sydney asked as she knocked on Lauren's door. For a moment, Sydney wasn't sure her sister was in the room. But then the huge mound under the messy comforter slowly moved and a headscarf poked out. “What?” Lauren croaked as she turned down the volume on her television.

“Gum,” Sydney repeated, stepping into the room. “I've got a date—” she started immediately regretting her slip when the entire head popped out immediately.

“A date, huh? You and Jason are acting extra monogamous for two people allegedly on the low, if you ask me,” Lauren teased, leaning over the edge of the bed to snatch her
favorite Gucci bag off the floor. “So where's my favorite Brookhaven receiver taking you, and more interestingly, how are you explaining to Keisha that you have a date on a Tuesday night?” she inquired as she searched the bottom of the bag.

“Actually, I'm not going out with Jason,” Sydney admitted as she quickly averted her eyes to avoid the look that Lauren gave her.

“Whaaat?” Lauren dragged out her question. “Okay, who are you and where is my sister?” she asked incredulously as she momentarily forgot about recovering the pack of gum. “Sydney Duke, are you playing the field?”

“Oh, Lauren, please,” she snapped. “Stop being dramatic and pass me the damn gum. I gotta go. I'm late. He's already here.”

Lauren finally handed her a pack of Winterfresh. “Alrighty then,” she started to turn back over when she suddenly sat up in the bed. “He's here? In the house?” she asked suspiciously. Sniffing the air like a bloodhound, she screeched, “Wait a damn minute, is that patchouli oil I smell?”

“Shh!” Sydney tried to quiet her sister. “Don't be so loud,” she admonished, turning to head out the door. “And yes, I am going out with Marcus. We're just going out for a coffee so that we can talk.”

“About what?” Lauren asked as Sydney walked out and
down the hall. “I sure hope you know what you're doing,” she called out forebodingly.

“I hope so, too,” Sydney mumbled.

“I'm sorry I took so long,” Sydney started as she reached the bottom of the staircase and paused for effect. “I couldn't find my—” To her great surprise, instead of Marcus being stunned into silence at Sydney's new and improved hair
and
physique, he was nowhere to be seen. “Um, hel-lo,” Sydney called out as she looked around, unsure what was going on.

The sound of her mother's high-pitched laugh made Sydney jump. “Oh, Marcus, you are too funny,” Mrs. Duke said in the fake falsetto she used when she fancied herself flirting with a younger man. “It's so good to see you around again. We missed you!”

See, now, this is that bullshit,
Sydney fumed to herself, gritting her teeth as she headed toward the kitchen. It amazed her how her mother could be so welcoming to the same guy who just finished cheating on her daughter.
I wonder if she'll ever be half as nice to Jason,
she mused bitterly as she reached the door.

“Oh, Mrs. Duke, you know you're like a second mother to me,” Marcus responded in his best “all-parents-love-me” voice. “And I can't tell you how much my mom adores Sydney. She's always saying what a great job you and Mr.
Duke have done.” For a split second, Sydney was sure she was about to be sick.

“Why, you be sure to tell your mother I said thank you very much,” Keisha continued. “As I'm sure she knows, it's hard keeping teenagers in line.”

Unable to take it any longer, Sydney walked into the kitchen, cutting Keisha's “poor suffering mother” soliloquy short. “I certainly hope I'm not interrupting,” Sydney said with a little more attitude than necessary. Surprised by her sudden entrance, both Marcus and Mrs. Duke jumped back slightly. Sydney smiled smugly at the shocked look on Marcus's face when he saw her freshly pressed hair. “Hey, Marcus,” she offered.

“Hey…I mean wow, Syd, you look totally different,” he stuttered in reply.

“Yeah, I don't know what possessed her to do that mess when she knows how you feel…” Keisha started.

Purposely flipping her hair over her shoulder, Sydney cut her eyes at her mom and headed to the door to the garage to retrieve her boots. “We should probably get a move on before it gets too late. It is a weeknight after all,” Sydney replied, choosing not to address her mother's smart-ass comment.

“You're absolutely right, Syd,” Marcus said, standing up and straightening out the green polo golf shirt he wore over a gray long-sleeve T-shirt.

“Oh, you guys go ahead and take your time,” Keisha
announced generously as she grinned all up in Marcus's face. “Don't worry about the curfew tonight. I trust Sydney is in good hands.” Sydney's mouth dropped open at her mother's blatant kiss-up behavior.

“Actually, I've got an early-morning debate team meeting tomorrow, so I plan to have Sydney back well before ten. But thanks anyway, Mrs. Duke,” Marcus said with his award winning smile.

“Good-bye, Mother,” Sydney offered smartly as she started past Keisha toward the front door with her boots in hand.

Just as Sydney attempted to pass by, Mrs. Duke reached out and grabbed her arm. Yanking her down under the guise of giving Sydney a parting kiss on the cheek, Kiesha hissed directly in her ear, “You better check that attitude at the door and pull this shit back together!” Releasing her, Mrs. Duke turned to face Marcus and said brightly, “You be sure to take good care of my baby!”

“Yes, ma'am,” Marcus replied. “I always do.”

“Are you okay?” Marcus asked gently as they pulled into the parking space outside the small coffee-and-dessert shop. For the duration of the twenty-minute drive, Sydney barely said a word, and it was definitely making him nervous. “You know, I didn't get a chance to say anything at your house, but you look really great. Your hair—”

“My hair what?” Sydney cut him off as she unbuckled her seat belt. “Please don't attempt to give me grief about straightening my hair, Marcus. In case you've forgotten, you and I are no longer together. Hence, how you feel is no longer my priority.”

“Whoa, Sydney, relax,” Marcus said quickly. “All I was going to say was that your hair looks good, too. I mean, yes, I prefer it curly and natural but…” As Marcus reached out to gently finger a few strands by Sydney's face, chills ran up and down her body like electricity. “This is nice. It's new. And it works for you.”

“Thanks,” she replied shyly, finally relaxing. “I'm sorry, I didn't mean to snap. I guess my nerves are just bad from Keisha's never-ending craziness.”

“No problem. And you know you don't have to explain to me how extra your mom can be,” he said as he reached out and briefly touched her hand. “Anyways, you ready?” he asked. Sydney nodded her head in response. “Cool,” Marcus replied as he hopped out and ran around to the other side of the car to open Sydney's door for her. “After you, madam,” he said with an exaggerated bow.

“Thank you kindly sir,” Sydney replied playfully with a curtsy of her own before the two headed inside.

“You know you ain't slick, right?” Sydney asked Marcus semisarcastically.

“What? What did I do now?” he asked as the waitress walked away with their order of two caramel Bavarian lattes and a strawberry shortcake cupcake.

“This is exactly where we came on our first date
and
exactly what we ordered, Mr. Green,” she replied accusingly with a playful shake of the head.

“Oh, my, is it?” he asked with a look of feigned innocence.

“Whatever, Marcus, you're ridiculous,” Sydney replied as her cell phone started to buzz. Grabbing it out of her bag, she saw the text from Jason that read:
Figure yur prob studying, hit me when your done. Hugs, J.
She quickly put it back in her bag.

“So does Jason know you're here with me tonight?” Marcus asked plainly.

“What?” Sydney asked, once again defensive. “Who said that was Jason?

“Come on, Syd, I can tell from the look on your face,” Marcus replied. “Give me a little credit, we were together for over four years.”

“I did give you credit; too much, obviously,” Sydney retorted as she took a sip from her glass of water.

Sighing deeply, Marcus pulled his locs away from his face. “Okay, okay, this is not what I came here to do with you,” he said. Sydney shrugged and looked away. “I asked you here because I miss spending time with you…with my
friend. I do not want us to fight about what has already happened or what is out of our control.” Marcus reached out and grabbed her hand to get her attention. She looked down at the engraved silver ID bracelet on his wrist and slowly up to his face. “I promise not to talk mess about Jason if you'll just drop the whole Dara thing. Okay?”

“Fine,” Sydney agreed reluctantly as the server brought their order to the table. She picked up a butter knife and cut the cupcake in half. “Choose,” she said, offering first pick.

Marcus smiled gratefully, picked up the smaller half, and took a bite. “Mmm, just as good as the first time,” he said.

Sydney smiled at the goofy face he made as she stirred sugar into her coffee. “So things at the Youth Center are crazy, huh?” she asked.

“Yeah, man,” he replied. “A lot of changes. But it's all for the good. The kids really enjoyed the awards ceremony. I think we're going to try and do it every year.”

“Nice,” she replied, blowing the steaming cup before taking a sip.

“So how are things at Better Day? Still having issues finding donations?”

“Actually, things are really improving,” Sydney said. “Since I had such success with the Benefit Gala, I'm going to help them plan a huge fundraiser around Christmas. We're really hoping to raise enough funds to move to a bigger facility as well as hire van services for the kids.”

“Van services for the kids? For what, to go to the movies?” Marcus inquired.

“That, too, but really so that the kids can go to school in the mornings,” Sydney explained. “Our hope is that some of the kids, especially the older ones who are aware enough to stay away from the abusive parent if he shows up, might be able to continue attending their old schools. Instead of having to start over in one of the schools near the shelter because there's no way to get back to their old neighborhood.”

“Wow, that's going to be a huge undertaking. I'm really impressed,” Marcus praised Sydney.

Slightly embarrassed by the attention, Sydney blushed as she took another sip. “It's not that big of a deal. Like you always say, just doing my part.”

“Even still, please keep me posted. I'm sure my mom would love to lend her support,” Marcus said, referring to Councilwoman Green's extensive political connections in the community.

“That'd be really great,” Sydney murmured, biting into the delicious pink cupcake.

“You know, what ever happened with that little girl, Amira?” Marcus asked as he sipped his coffee. “I remember you were really concerned because she'd been having bad nightmares…”