Love UnExpected (Love's Improbable Possibility) (17 page)

“Oh, shit
,” she shrieked as she stopped bopping. “Rayna, my baby?”

She shunned her face by burying it in the crease of her arm. She was ashamed. I was embarrassed for her. She began to weep aloud and I nervously looked around, uneasy about this emotional encounter. I went to touch her arm in a comforting manner, I hadn’t come to scorn her.

“Ma, don’t cry. Don’t cry. It’s okay. Come over here and sit down,” I said as I guided her to a nearby booth.

We sat at opposite ends as she continued to
weep forcefully. The snot began to fall from her nose and drool from her mouth. She was a mess. I rose to get her napkins that I had to ask for through a Plexiglas. I felt like I’d opened Pandora’s Box by searching for her, I wasn’t prepared for this. It took nearly five minutes for her to calm down.

“I’m sorry, baby. I swear to my Heavenly Father, I’m sorry!” she pleaded.

“What are you apologizing for? Just calm down.”

“
I knew you was gonna come back one day. I wanted to be ready when you did. I just been tryna’ get myself together for so long so I could just call you. I know I just left you hangin’, baby. But mommy’s been sick…for a very long time. This demon gotta hold ta me and I can’t shake it. I just can’t!” she cried.

She was referring to her addiction. The last time I saw her she was a closeted addict, now she’s a full blown crackhead and it was heart-wrenching to experience. I had up and left Jersey as a kid and virtually never returned. I abandoned my family. Hell
, I hadn’t seen my mother since I was eighteen years old. It had been damn near ten years! Well—not quite, but when you round up the number, it’s an astounding revelation.

“Have you tried getting cleaned? Is there anything I can do to help?” I asked but with private reservations, I didn’t want t
o fall for the proverbial okeydoke. But if she was really sincere I couldn’t in clear conscious desert her.

“I been tryna’ get into Sobriety House for like
three weeks now. They keep telling me to call tomorrow because they beds is full. And that’s hard on me. These streets is dangerous. That’s why I keep to myself. Regina ‘n them hanging out right now and I told them I’ll holla at them lata. I can’t mess around like that no more,” she explained before breaking down again.

She continued with, “Rayna, I got this blood disease now. It ain’t the A.I.D.S. or nothing like that. It’s called…ummmmmm…” she mulled over the answer while tapping her forehead with her fingers. “Ummmmm…Hepatitis. There’s different kinds and mines is the B. I gotta take this medicine that makes me sick. I be all tired and depressed. Rayna, I need help.”

Her openness and courage to share threw me. I was familiar with crackhead characteristics from coming up in the projects. They’ll do and say anything for their next high. I guess DNA is powerful because I wanted desperately to help her
if
she wanted to kick this shit. But I suddenly had the urge to get up out of dodge. Being in that place gave me the creeps.

“Where are you staying? Maybe I could stop by and see you before I go home.” I attempted to end our encounter as I stood to leave.

She had the longest face when she realized I was preparing for my departure. “Rayna, you so pretty, girl! I can’t believe you here. You have any kids…you married, ain’t you? I wanna know what’s up with my baby girl,” she said gleaming from ear to ear.

I felt horrible. She wanted to catch up when I wanted to leave.
To run like hell
. I kept looking at people coming into the restaurant each time the door would open, breaking my attention. I didn’t know what to say. I was at a crossroads with yielding to my human nature to help her get clean and healthy and maintaining my “
fuck you all
” attitude and returning to my new life. I thought of Michelle and felt a coat of warmth come over me. I had to at least try.

So I offered, “Listen, Ma, if you really want help I don’t mind supporting you. I’ll be leaving tomorrow afternoon. I’m staying at the Embassy Suite in
Secaucus. If you want help find your way there and I’ll see what I can do.”

I got up to walk out. Before I could touch the door she called out to me. “Hey, Rayna…”

Here was the okeydoke…the ultimate crackhead move. I knew she was preparing to ask for money.

“God
told me you was coming home soon. That’s why I needed to be ready!” she declared excitedly, then shadows of darkness fell upon her eyes. I guess she felt that she had failed me again.

Acute pain
zapped my chest; I didn’t have a response. I cracked an apologetic smile, turned and headed out. On my way to my car I thought about numbing the pain.
Alcohol sounds like the method!
I knew not to mix alcohol with depression, but it was divine for anxiety. I needed to take the load off and had a collection of weeks to escape, even if but for a night.

Coincidentally, next to the restaurant was a liquor store. As much as I was in a hurry to leave the morose area of my humble beginnings, I wanted to be stowed away in a bed sooner. My exhaustion was
cresting upon me. Quickly, I decided to stop in the LQ to pick up a bottle of Henny.
I hate Hennessy
.

After deciding on the size and brand, I grabbed a bottle and made my way to the counter to pay. The place was
damn near empty and smelled of cigarettes and ammonia. My nerves were shot and body was coiled so tightly that I was shivering.  As I was searching my purse for change, I heard my name.

“Rayna
…
Brimm
?”

I turned counter-clockwise to the sound
and I couldn’t believe my eyes. It took a minute to gather my faculties and respond with words that fell out in a whisper.

“Theresa?”

In that instance, my attention was snatched by the sight of a stroller in my periphery and small children running around it. Something inside me was unsettled with seeing babies in a liquor store. Theresa must have followed my eyes and abruptly turned to the tots.

“Knock it the fuck off! Don’t you see grown folks talking!” That last one wasn’t a question.

Theresa’s exultant glaze made its way back to me as the store clerk was asking for my payment. I handed it to him and turned back to my childhood friend.

“Girl, where the hell you been?”

“Ummm…you know…here—there. How are you?” I asked, attempting diversion.

“I been here. I see your mother all the time around here.” Visions of a frail Samantha that I’d just left
suddenly came to mind. “She keep saying that she don’t hear from you. What you been up to?”

Theresa’s smile was so bright and enchanted. I could tell she was genuinely happy to see me. I
’d wished I could return the sentiment. I was in the middle of an anxiety attack that grew more imminent with each discovery of the day.

I swallowed hard, begging my wits to return when I coughed out, “School…you know, trying to get myself together. What about you?”

My eyes swung to the children who were once again engaged in tag play. Theresa followed my gaze.

“Who me? Ain’t shit going on wit’ me but these bad ass kids.” She went to offer the smallest baby in the umbrella stroller the pacifier that had fallen into her lap.

“Are these your babies?” I asked quizzically as I observed the wonderment in the kids’ eyes as they played. I remember being that young and carefree, able to shut the world out and enjoy each moment even if the environment wasn’t conducive to play.

With ease Theresa informed, “Some of them mine. These two…” she went for two little boys to grab them at the top of their heads to show me. Both had aged cornrows plaited down to their necks as they continued teasing each other. “…and these three is Keysha’s
.” She pointed to the remaining two children, one boy and the other a girl, who were now playing hide and go seek around us and the little girl in the stroller. 

“Oh.” Hearing Keysha’s name made my heart sputter. I hadn’t thought of her since my last nightmare about J-Boog about a month ago. That was the only time I recalled her, when those lurid dreams occurred. “I didn’t know you had kids
,” I murmured.

“Yeah, girl. My oldest is by Luck-Star from the
South-side. Remember him, right. His ass locked the fuck up like the rest of them. Shit, my youngest’s daddy is locked the fuck up, too. Same shit, different times,” she breathed out. “You heard about Keysha, right?”

I shook my head.

“Girl, her ass be up to no good, too. She in rehab now and the state done forced me to take these kids again. I keep telling Keysha she gone’ lose these kids for good. Who else gone’ take ‘em—they daddies? Shit, one strung out on dope, the other one dead and the other one just as much as a drunk as her ass is. I be stressed the hell out. That’s why I’m up in here. Now I can’t wait to put these bastards to bed and lay up with my drink.” Theresa gave a lungful exhale.

Wariness wore on her face. Her
golden glowing skin had dimmed since the last I saw her at our high school graduation. Age had tumbled upon her prematurely. She had been living life hard. My heart bled. I needed to go, and now before I imploded.

“So, what’s up wit’ you…got any kids
—”

We heard a thud on the floor and simultaneously turned our attention to find the kids picking up a bottle that must have fallen during their play.

Theresa bellowed, “What the fuck y’all doing! Get y’all asses over here before I beat the shit outta yous!”

Just then
, the store clerk started firing off profanities, partially in his native tongue and the other half in English telling Theresa to get the kids out of the store and that she would be paying for any damaged products.

That was my perfect cue.

Amidst the barrage of angry and threatening words between the clerk and Theresa, I whisked out, “Theresa, I have to go. I have someone waiting on me—”

She cut me off with a cry, “But wait…give me your number
—”

“My mother can give it to you
. Ask her for it the next time you run into her. I have to go!” I shouted as I loped out of the store, damn near tripping over one of the kids. I was desperate to get a hundred miles between me and home.

On my way back to the hotel
, I recounted the events of my day. I don’t know which encounter disturbed me the most: that with my mother or grandfather, or learning that Keysha had become an alcoholic. She was too young for an addiction.
Right?
My grandfather’s words haunted my every thought on the drive back to my hotel and my dreams for weeks to come. 

As I walked into the hotel lobby, I noticed the desk was unoccupied
as I continued to the elevator and up to my room. When I approached the door, I pulled out my key card to slide it through. I opened the door and as I walked in I saw three tall and brawny men in the sitting area of my room. My chest rose in fear, I couldn’t feel my feet to run.

God no!

I jumped and simultaneously felt someone grab me from
behind covering my mouth. I began screaming through my nose. I was going to die in Jersey!

“Rayna, it’s me!” he
spoke firmly as he turned my body to face him. It was Azmir. I was scared shitless! I don’t think I’d ever been so terrified in my life.

I screamed, “
What the fuck
!”

“A’ight, god, you good from here?”
The one big guy with a petite voice mumbled as he and the others moved towards the door to exit the small suite. Suddenly, they appeared far less harmful than they did when I opened the door. My heart still hadn’t found its relaxed rate. I was still in shock, trying to process what had happened. It all had happened so quickly. Azmir gave a firm nod dismissing them.

Once the door was shut, with adrenaline still running on high levels in my body, I looked to him for answers. He didn’t quickly offer them. He kept gazing at me as if
I
was the one in the wrong. We had a stare down for a while before I broke the ice with, “You can start with what the hell you are doing here.”

“I could ask you the same. I don’t hear from you in damn near three weeks. I call, text, e-mail
, and show up to your office. What the hell is this all about? And what I really need to know is
how the fuck did Michelle pass away and you not tell me
?” Azmir was seething, he had never taken that tone with me before.

I shot him a look that could kill for that outburst. He didn’t react. 

“What is wrong with you? Why do you keep running? At first that shit presented a romantic challenge but now it’s straight fucking neurotic!”

His beautiful nose had flared and I saw his brows knit with deep concern. In a nano-second I appraised his handsome features,
even when he was outraged
. Feelings of familiarity started rushing in.

I didn’t have a response. There was so much going on in the moment. Just minutes ago I thought I was being violated and now Azmir is yelling angrily in my face.
Did I mention I had no idea how he was able to get into my room?
Speaking of which
, “How the hell did you get in here?”