Ivy's Twisted Vine Redux (38 page)

Tears welled in the side of Ivy’s eyes as she looked up at Nicola. Was he not going to give up her? Was he going to ask for her? Closing her eyes, she wiped her cheeks and sighed. Making eye contact with him as he sat down, she mouthed hello. Too upset and hung-over to say anything, he looked at Grey once and sat down without acknowledging Ivy. Sinking back down in the seat, Ivy rubbed her stomach and looked at Grey. What was that? What was going on? What about the speech? Maybe the speech was about Trina? Maybe, Nicola had given up on her?

**

After the funeral, Nicola sat in the den of Brooks’ mother’s mid-town home sipping on a small glass of water and listening to the other policemen that surrounded him holding various conversations about Brooks’ endless valor and unmatched dedication to the force. It amazed him now how everyone had only wonderful things to say about Brooks now that he was dead.

When he was alive, Brooks was respected but not nearly as loved as others had made him out to be that morning. Maybe this was an idea of what it would be like when he passed. People would spend a week celebrating his death and then the next week, he would be forgotten. Some new drug dealer would take over the old guy’s corner. Some new cop would be assigned. And the world would continue to turn. Dazed and numb from drinking for days, he looked into the television blankly tapping on the armrest.

Feeling a hand on his shoulder, Nicola looked up to see Trina. He stood up and offered her a seat, but she declined.

“I’m cool, Nicola,” she said sitting across from him the black leather sectional.

“How are you?” Nicola instantly noticed her puffy red eyes. He only wished that he could have done something to help her through all that she was going through. Regardless of what Brooks had done on the side, he felt as though his friend loved Trina dearly. He just didn’t know how to show it.

“I could be better,” Trina smiled at an officer who raised his cup at her from across the room. “But, I’m more worried about you. You…look like shit,” she said under her breath.

“Thanks,” Nicola said smiling. “I try.”

Trina took Nicola’s hand in hers and held it tightly. “Whatever happened has happened, and there is no going back. It is not your fault that he got killed, and it is not your place to mourn him ‘til it kills you. Plus, you got Caesar. I’m sure that Brooks would have wanted that most.” Holding up his chin, she looked at his discolored face. “I bet you haven’t had a decent meal since Brooks hit the ground.”

“Not a bite.” Nicola stared down at the ground ashamed of the way he looked.

“You can’t continue to do this to yourself, you know.” Trina sighed.

“I’m on leave now, since we finally broke one of Caesar’s captains for the information we needed…it’s Director’s orders. I’m on a flight back home to Miami first thing in the morning. I figured seeing my family would do me some good.” Nicola’s stomach growled.

“Well, what about Ivy? Have you talked to her?” Trina already knew that he had not, but she wanted to make a point of reminding him to do so.
“In the state that I’ve been in, it’s a good thing that I haven’t. She probably wouldn’t have wanted anything to do with me.” Nicola cleared his voice.
“Well, she’s been worried sick.” Trina stood up as Brooks’ mother walked into the room. “I’m going to talk to Mrs. Brooks. You just make sure that you call her before you get on that plane.”

“I will. And, I’ll leave my number so that if you need anything…” Nicola said trying to think of Trina. God only knew the way that she must be feeling.

“Yeah, thanks” Trina said rubbing his hand.

Watching as Trina walked away, some of Nicola’s bitterness disappeared. He admired how strong she seemed to be and how devoted she was to Ivy even in her crisis. However, he was a different story. He had proven to be weak and breakable in a time that his family and friends needed him most. He had neglected the living for dead and seemed to be digging his own early grave. He ran his fingers through his oily, unwashed hair and straightened his suit as he made his way out of the den to the restroom.

Waiting for the restroom door to open, he sat on stoop in the hallway, looking at the portraits of Brooks and his sisters that decorated the wall. They were all perfectly aligned in golden frames and served as a backdrop to a dusty rose-colored paint that matched the rose-colored carpet and white boarders and trim. It almost reminded him of something he had seen as a child in his cousin’s dollhouse.

After a moment, the bathroom door opened, and Ivy walked through the door clutching her purse. Stunned, she stopped in the entrance as her eyes met Nicola’s. He stood up. Shocked. Embarrassed. Pulling at his suit vainly, he lifted his head and gave his best leisurely smile.

Ivy walked up to him only inches from his body and stood silently for a moment eyeing him carefully and sniffing the stench of the young drunk before she wrapped her arms around him warmly and hugged him. It had been the first hug anyone had given him throughout the entire ordeal, and he hoped it would be his last. It was utterly agonizing to bear, leaving him weak and vulnerable. Wanting to cry all over again, he substituted tears for a small, bottled up sigh.

Nicola stepped back finally and was able to get a good look at Ivy with her protruding stomach and long flowing locks pulled back in a soft ponytail. The small tendrils of hair that she left dandling on her sides flirted with her collarbone and the arm of her silk black sundress. Her soft lips were slightly glossed, her high cheek bones rosy, her caramel skin bare and resilient, her eyes shining bright and her long swan shaped neck decorated with a beautiful one carat diamond necklace that sat at the base of her throat.

“Oh, Nicola. How are you?” she asked looking around the corner for Grey. It was shame she had to watch the way she behaved with Nicola at a time like this when she was sure that he needed her most.

“I’m fine. You look great.” He touched her face slightly.

“Thanks.” She started in on him. “I called a hundred times to see if you needed anything. I couldn’t reach you. I’ve been so worried. I heard about the guy showing up at your house.” Tears formed in her eyes. “I just…I’m so glad that you’re not hurt.”

“I’m fine. Really. And I apologize about for avoiding you, but I just wasn’t up to seeing anyone.” He scratched the top of his head nervously and squinted his eyes, trying to keep his emotions under control.

“No. I totally understand. If anything were ever to happen to Trina.” She stopped the thought. “Heaven forbid it.” She shook off her thoughts and tried to focus on one thing at time. “Anyway, what’s next for you?”

“Actually, I’m headed to Miami Beach…tomorrow.” He watched her face for a response. “Do you need anything before I go?” It was obviously another afterthought.

Disappointment seemed to cover Ivy’s face to Nicola’s approval. Her face frowned uncontrollably. “Why do you have to go there?” She felt her heart skip a beat.
Please don’t go so far away
, she pleaded to him silently.

“That’s my home. Remember? ” he said seeing the urgency in her eyes. He grinned happy to see her concern. He needed that. He needed to know that she still cared. “Ivy, I’m just going to regroup.” He put his hand on her shoulder. “I’ll be back.”

“Oh. Yeah of course.” She tried to act as if it was nothing. “Well, don’t forget to call me.”

“I doubt that I’ll forget.” Nicola felt his head spinning. “I’ll call and give you all of my numbers there. And you can call me whenever you feel like it.” He was sure that she would not take him up on her proposition as badly as he wanted her to do so.

“I will,” she said letting go of their moment together. “Well, I’ll talk to you later. Take care.” Her arm slightly brushed his as she walked past him through the hall where Grey stood talking to one of the policemen, but inwardly watching her every move.

**

Crawling into bed later that night, Trina wiped her cheeks again and tried to massage the tear ducts of her eyes. She had cried so long and so hard that she began to feel terminally ill. It had been hard for her to pretend to be so strong the entire day when she wanted to throw herself on the casket as they were burying it. Launching her high heels across the room off her bed, she laid her head on the soft goose down pillow and sniffled involuntarily.

Looking at her alarm clock as the minutes slowly passed, she began to drift off feeling the tears dampen her pillow and wet her cheek. Unable to rid herself of the tight ball in her stomach and the constant flinching whenever she thought of Brooks’ body in a cold, dark coffin, she rose up in her bed and sighed.
Damn it, he had just proposed to her…asked her to spend the rest of her life with him and then he went away…forever!

With all that was inside of her, she just wanted it all to end. She had contemplated how to rid herself of her burdens. Maybe she should do something drastic. Join the military? Become a police officer in remembrance of his death? Suicide? No. No. She looked over at the Bible that lay demandingly on top of the pile of books on her study table and decided absolutely not. She had to will herself to sleep. Grabbing her unfinished novel that she began reading six months ago, she turned to her marked page and began to read.
…her lips quivered with passion as she held him closely.

“Trina?” a voice said from the other side of her door.

“Yeah,” Trina said putting down her book and wiping her eyes.

“It’s me, Emerald. Can I come in?”

“Sure, it’s open.”

Emerald had become a source of strength for Trina over the last few days. She almost envied Kakeline for having him. He was so beautiful and so bright. She loved with way that he smiled at her with his mossy green eyes and wide perfect smile. But he had not once flirted. Instead, late in the evenings, he would come and talk with her, keep her company…ultimately, giving her hope. She didn’t know why he had taken such an interest in her, but she was thankful. It was like Brooks had sent someone in his absence to help her through the most difficult point in her life.

“Hey you,” Emerald said coming to sit at her bedside still in his black suit pants and white button down shirt.

“Hey,” Trina said scooting over. “Thanks for coming to the funeral today.”

“No problem. Kakeline and I were way in the back, but we left early to beat the traffic.”

“It’s okay. I understand. What are you up to tonight?”

“Nothing much. I just checked on Ivy. She’s gone to bed. Grey’s out doing whatever that boy does.” He nodded in disapproval. “I just wanted to make sure that you were handling this okay.”

“As well as to be expected.” She smiled.

“You want to be cheered up?” His thick, black, naturally arched eyebrow lifted.

“What did you have in mind?”

“Well, I brought Rocky Road Ice Cream and Shaft. Not the old movie, but Samuel L. Jackson.”

“Not the king of
muthafuckas
.” Trina smiled.

“The very same.” Emerald pulled the DVD from his coat pocket.

“Pop it in.” Trina said grabbing her remote to turn on her television. “Hey, where is your wife?

“At home.” Emerald sighed. “She said she wanted to be left alone.”

“Well, I surely don’t.” Trina looked into his eyes. Just what was going on here?

“I’ll go and fix the ice cream,” Emerald said quietly.

Chapter Twenty-One:

Welcome to Miami

Chapter 21

WELCOME TO MIAMI

“
We are now boarding First Class seats A-1 through D-3”
the flight attendant smiled as she watched the anxious passengers form a quiet single line. After a two-hour wait, Nicola boarded the plane with a pregnancy book, a pair of shades and desire to sleep for two hours and twenty-one minutes uninterrupted. Taking a window seat, he peered out across the Memphis airstrip and felt a small stir of relief. He was glad to be leaving for a while. It had been too long since he had pulled away from work, and his trip home was well overdue.

Sliding his shades over his eyes after sipping on a cold strong Sprite, Nicola adjusted his pillows and tried to rest. His thoughts began to race immediately. It happened wherever he was. He questioned every step of the day that Brooks was killed. He went over every strategic and spontaneous move. He blamed himself continuously.
I should have reacted quicker. I should have pushed him out of the way. I should have taken the bullet.

“Please buckle your safety belt, sir,” a flight attendant said hovering over him. He made eye contact with her. His thoughts must have been showing on his face. She looked away, stunned by his stone glare. He looked away, too. Embarrassed by his sheer rage. Buckling his seat belt, he cracked his knuckles and anxiously awaited the opportunity to order a drink.

Nearly three hours later after a long nap and virtually turbulence-free flying, Nicola was on a taxi headed to his parents’ house. He knew that he had made it back home when turned off of MacArthur Cswy to the Bridge Road. As he entered into the private community down Star Island Drive, Nicola looked around at the familiar upscale mansions with well-manicured lawns, luxurious cars and beautiful landscapes and recalled a simple time in his life as child.

Only two homes down from the entrance of the community sat a familiar three-story villa lined with incredibly well-kept shrubbery, an immaculate lawn, tall healthy palm trees, marble lions at the entrance of the rod-iron gated driveway and his mother’s silver jaguar parked respectably at the front door. Pulling his bags out of the car, he passed the driver a hundred dollar bill and took a deep breath.

Home. It was the same as the day he had left. Statuesque and marvelous, its dominant beauty and skillful architecture was a testament to his father’s many years of prosperous hard work and sacrifice.

Walking through the grass, he saw his mother standing in front of black rod-iron doors in a silk yellow Chanel suit and yellow alligator pumps. Her long fiery red hair was pulled away from her face in a bun and her grandmother’s pearls sat on her neck like the crown jewels of England.