Sweeter Than Honey (15 page)

“Get the fuck out of my face before I really hurt you, bitch!” he grunted, slamming me against the side of the white porcelain tub.

“Ow!” I yelled, holding my side. I hadn’t dealt with this kind of abuse in years and I sure as fuck wasn’t about to let B pick up where my exes had left off.

Calmly I stood, looking down at B, seeing a split image of my ex-husband and wondering if I’d ever have a sane relationship with a black man. I’d never wanted to see B like this again. Leaving my towel on the floor, I whispered, “Get out of my house.” I walked out of the bathroom. Water dripped from my naked body as I rubbed my aching side.

When I heard the bathroom door lock, I headed straight to my ivory nightstand, slid my sugar-cube-sized magnet out of the hidden latch, removed my Colt .45, and placed it under my pillow. Love or no love, if B handled me like that again, fuck a restraining order, I was going to put a bullet in his ass. Maybe two.

R
omance without finance was a nuisance.

Going out of my mind, I sat on the edge of the tub for about an hour trying to analyze what I’d done to Lace and why. Was Valentino my true friend? What if I left Valentino’s money where it was, apologized to my woman, and got a job or stopped talking about starting my business and did it? What was I afraid of?

Tyra had taught me once a woman stopped loving a man, there was nothing he could do to win back her heart. Jay-Z sang, “You can’t turn a bad girl good, but once a good girl turns bad she’s gone forever,” in “Song Cry” and he was right.

The real reason I wasn’t there for my daughter was that I couldn’t stand seeing Tyra with another man: a man who made her smile brighter than the sun and laugh louder than her favorite comedian, Katt Williams. A man who provided for my daughter and a man my little girl called daddy.

Breaking up with Lace wouldn’t hurt me as much as Lace never loving me again. Could I erase the past twelve hours of my life and start anew? A second chance of sorts. What if I did everything Lace wanted the way she wanted me to? Would she love me unconditionally? How could a black man avoid a murder rap and getting killed at the same time?

Cracking the door, Lace was sound asleep on her back with both hands comfortably tucked underneath the pillow behind her head, so I locked the door, sat back on the tub, then stared at the shower for another hour.

Everything wasn’t black or white, but some things were either wrong or right. I didn’t kill Sunny, but I may as well have. Dropping to my knees, leaning over the tub where moments ago I’d pushed my woman, I cried, “My God, what is happening to me? I’m turning into everything Mama James taught me not to be.”

Had I become what my white mother and black father anticipated? Maybe if I released the animosity in my heart against my brother, Grant, stopped being jealous of Lace, and stood up to Valentino like a man, irrespective of the outcomes, I could sleep with both eyes closed.

If I turned myself in, I could protect Lace and clear my conscience at the same time. But Valentino had inmate contacts that would hang my black behind in the cell with my own shoelaces before sunrise.

My body jerked as more tears poured into my palms. Skilled hands that could land a football through a field of husky men moving at the speed of lighting and hit my target right in the chest, precision hands that threw bombs ten yards at a time to gain a first down, loving hands that caressed my Lace every night since I’d met her, were covered with the blood of an innocent woman.

What would Jesus do?

When I’d dropped to my knees, spread my fingers, and motioned as though I was choking someone, God knew that person was not Lace. The person I visualized was me. I should’ve stopped there. I wish I’d never grabbed Lace’s biceps and slammed her against the tub. This was the first and last time I’d put my hands on my baby like that. Next time, I’d leave until I came to my senses.

Shit happens, not overnight, within a matter of moments, minutes, seconds. I couldn’t stay in the bathroom forever. Two hundred and fifty thousand dollars awaited me. How was I going to key in the combination without having my feet chopped off?

Not trusting Valentino’s suggestion to stand on the built-in shower bench, I dragged the vanity chair to the shower, stood on the seat, and damn near slipped off.

“Shit!”

Grabbing my aching knee, I got extremely quiet expecting to hear, “You okay in there?” or “What the hell are you doing?”

The bedroom was silent but I cracked the door and checked again to see if my soon-to-be-ex was awake. She wasn’t. The cover was up to her neck and her hands were still under the pillow. I’d deal with Lace later.

Locking the door again, I placed the wet bath mat rubber bottom atop the vanity stool, leaned over the top shower bar, and pushed upward on the golden rose tile. I entered the decoded code and sure enough the floor opened wide enough for my entire body to fall in. There was the shiny silver case Lace had brought in with her. Quickly I removed it seconds before metal blades shaped like shark teeth closed, followed by the tile.

“Shit!”

Valentino failed to mention the floor opening was on a timer. I almost lost my left hand. Looking inside the case, I saw, as promised, lots of cash. Too much for me to count. Replacing the mat and the stool, I wrapped the case in a white towel, unlocked the door, tiptoed out of the bedroom, and got in the black Jag, tossing the silver bag on the passenger seat beside me.

Driving a few miles, I arrived at Sunny’s condo and parked on the back side where no other cars were in the visitors’ stalls. Rushing inside, I saw the body bag was where I’d left it, and noticed her living room reeked of decomposing flesh. I placed the silver case on the coffee table and opened it.

My eyes widened. My heart raced with joy. I hadn’t seen so much cash at one time in quite a while. Running my fingers over the edges of hundred-dollar bills made me feel good as I inhaled the breezy scent of crisp money. There was no way the only thing Valentino was selling was pussy. Maybe he’d killed Sunny because she knew what he was doing.

Taking a deep breath, I held it while unzipping the body bag. I rummaged through Sunny’s purse but hadn’t inhaled fast enough because her body smelled worse than a dead dog mixed with a skunk’s spray and the sickening odor was trapped inside my nostrils. Guess it was all that bleach and ammonia that had fileted her flesh away from her bones. Quickly I snatched one of her credit cards, then watched the metal clasps overlap up to the top. Stumbling into the living room, I gulped, filling my lungs with air, unable to rid myself of the horrible stench. I flipped open my cell phone, dialed the number 1, then hung up, certain Valentino had bugged my phone.

Grabbing a paper towel from the kitchen, I wrapped it around the cordless receiver, then pressed the green-lighted buttons with my knuckles. “Yes, I’d like to book a reservation to Paraguay departing on the first flight available.” Confirming with Sunny’s security code from the back of her credit card, the expiration date, her name, address, and phone number, I gave the woman my middle and last names. Once I was on another continent I could rent a car and steal away into the night like the black African slaves that were transported to South America. Aw, shit! With the new white man’s law of needing a passport to the U.S., was my passport current? Where was my passport? Aw, hell! One more obstacle but I was confident I’d find it later.

After scheduling my flight, I left the silver case in the closet with Sunny, knowing I’d pick up my money on my way to the airport in a few hours. Settling into the Jag, I forced gusts of air from my nose like a raging bull, blowing snot in an attempt to clear my sinuses of Sunny’s sickening odor.

Returning home to apologize to my woman before my final departure, I parked next to Lace’s car. I’d need a few pairs of clean underwear, toothpaste, a toothbrush. “Aw, hell no.” How in the world was I going to get my money past customs without a declaration? Damn sure nuff wasn’t checking in my cash at ticketing. “Fuck!”

Plan B. I could drive from Vegas to Bogalusa, Louisiana. That wouldn’t work. It’d be my luck some old lady named Bertha Mae who’d never missed an episode of
Oprah
or
CSI
would recognize my face and alert the cops.

Best if I completely thought out my situation like a white man instead of impulsively reacting like a black man. Clearly my relationship with Lace was the best of my life and the last few hours were the worst. What if she wanted to work things out and I wasn’t giving her the chance? I was the one who didn’t deserve a chance. Lace was better off without me in her life.

Tiptoeing into the bedroom, I said, “I’m sorry, baby,” then turned on the light.

Lace was gone.

Q
uietly opening the front door I saw Mom and Dad kneeling in the living room in front of our small altar holding hands with AJ and praying. Seven white candles brightened their somber faces. I wasn’t sure if they were upset with me until my mother stood and said, “Summer, you had us worried to death. You weren’t answering your phone. Where’d you go, baby?”

“I went to…” I paused, debating on telling a small lie, the kind where I told the truth but not the whole truth by claiming I went to a friend’s house. But what if Sunny’s body was in that bag? “I went to Sunny’s house, Mama.”

Watching the twelve-inch candles melt onto the sterling silver cross, I hung my head like Jesus. That cross had been handed down to my mother from her great-great-grandmother, so I had to confess or the Lord wouldn’t bless me for not honoring my parents.

“What!” my dad said, reaching for my mother to help him to his feet. “Come here, girl.” Massaging his lower back, Dad continued. “You mean to tell me you let me drive all over Las Vegas when you knew where your sister lived all along?”

AJ ran to me. Holding my toddler in my arms, I stood behind the sofa to create distance between us and my parents, then replied in a “please don’t punish me” tone, “I can explain, Daddy.”

This was my worst birthday ever and the first one I wasn’t celebrating with my twin. I know my parents didn’t mean to overlook what should’ve been a joyous occasion, but there was no way I could party without Sunny. I’d hoped we could hit a few casinos tonight, gamble a little, and legally order our first drinks: a tequila sunrise for Sunny and a sunset for me. Sunny and I had done a lot of first things together before she left home. But I wasn’t brave like Sunny. Taking my son and moving away from my parents was something I wasn’t emotionally prepared to do.

“Before you say a word, did we hear you right? You went to
Sunny’s
house?”

“Yes, Daddy. Sunny sent me a key to her condo.” Focusing on the priority of finding my sister, I withheld telling my parents about the six figures in Sunny’s bank account, the Benz, or that she’d told me to sell her condo. The one thing I had that Mother would want to keep was Sunny’s Bible, which was on the dashboard in my car. “I just got it in the mail with this letter after we got back,” I said, making sure that I pulled the right piece of paper from my purse. “I didn’t know what to do and I had to find out if any of this was true.”

“Summer, the Days are a family united in Christ.”

“I know, Mama.”

AJ said, “A family that prays together stays together.”

“That’s right, Nana’s baby. Very good.” Mama paused, then asked me, “Well. Did you go there?” while unfolding the letter. Silent tears streamed down my mother’s face, smearing her mascara as her eyes scrolled back and forth.

“Helen, get my car keys,” my dad insisted, taking the letter from Mother, then continued. “Summer is taking us to Sunny’s house right now. We’ll drop AJ off next door so he can play with his friend till we get back.”

“Yeah!” AJ smiled.

Thank God none of this made sense to my baby.

“Wait, there’s something else I have to say. Follow me,” I insisted, stepping from behind the sofa. I led my parents into the family study and pointed at the framed photo hanging above my dad’s computer. “The quarterback in that picture is romantically involved with Sunny. I don’t know why, but he followed me home, and he might come back to k-i-l-l me because I saw him in Sunny’s house.”

Mama frowned at me, then softened her look at my father. “It’s all right, Daniel.” Cupping my face in her hands, Mother hissed, between clenched teeth, two inches from my lips, “Summer, stop it. Look at me. I know you’re upset, sweetheart, but you know what the Bible says about blasphemy.”

There was no way my words could prove I was right and Mother could quote a scripture from every book of the Bible from Genesis to Revelation for any response I’d give, but she’d taught me to have faith and I believed that God would reveal the truth when He was ready.

“Okay, then. If you don’t believe me, let’s go,” I said, leading the way.

Once Dad dropped AJ off, I sat nervously on the backseat in Daddy’s car wondering how to prepare them for the worst. Daddy parked in the space where the Jaguar was earlier.

“Wait a minute. I have to say something else before we go upstairs.”

“Spit it out on the way up,” Daddy said. “I gotta see my other baby and wish her…oh no. Not today, Lord.” Daddy used the rail to support himself on one side, and Mother held him close on the other.

“No matter what we see, Daniel, the Lord’s will has been done and we must remain strong in our faith knowing He will see us through—”

I blurted really fast, “Daddy, there’s a black body bag inside Sunny’s closet and I’m afraid she might be in the bag.”

Snatching the keys from my hand, Daddy unlocked the door and rushed inside. Mother was right behind him until she collapsed across the threshold. Closing the door, I worried about my mother, but had to trail a few feet behind my father into Sunny’s bedroom, expecting the worst.

“Well!” Mother yelled from the living room. “Is my baby dead in there, Daniel?”

I stepped inside the closet beside my father, my chin practically hitting my neck. The body bag was gone. I ran to my mother, knowing she was the one who’d believe me. Looking above the fireplace, I pointed, then cried, “Our family portrait is missing too.”

Sitting on the lime leather sofa, Daddy pressed his lips together, interlocked his fingers, shook his head, then stared at me. “This sofa smells funny. Look, Summer. We understand you’re under a lot of stress, honey, but this is not the time to make up stories or for you to protect Sunny. Now, how long have you known about this apartment? And where is your sister hiding and why?”

“Mommy, I don’t understand. Daddy, I swear the body bag was right in there,” I said, revisiting the closet. Standing in the empty space, I ran to my mother. Quietly my mother’s eyes shifted to the corners.

Hugging Mommy’s neck like I was a baby, I said, “Mama, I didn’t mean to swear. God forgive me but you’ve got to believe me. I’m not crazy. There really was a body bag in Sunny’s closet.”