True Confessions (13 page)

“Mrs. Logan, thanks again for inviting me. Dinner was delicious. I eat out so often that a home-cooked meal is a real treat,” Taylor cited, stretching on the sofa and making herself right at home. She was there for moral support.

“You are quite welcome, dear. A friend of Kennedy is always welcomed with open arms. I love you like a second daughter, I’ll pack you a plate to take home before you leave.”

Taylor and I exchanged quick, secretive glances. We had moved into the living room after literally stuffing ourselves with Mother’s smothered pork chops and gravy, brown rice, and collards. We drank a pitcher of lemonade among us. I was very pleased that my appetite had returned and I was even gaining a little weight. I saw that as one of the first steps toward getting my life back.

“Thank you. I appreciate that,” Taylor said, smiling in Mother’s direction.

“I hope you will look out for Kennedy when I move back home.”

“Mother. I’m a grown woman. I don’t need Taylor watching over me. I’m sure Taylor has more exciting things to do with her time than babysit me. And besides, you’re only moving across town.”

“Child, haven’t you learned? Everybody needs somebody,” Mother scolded.

“Don’t worry, Mrs. Logan. I’ll be happy to make sure Kennedy eats right and doesn’t wear herself out,” Taylor cooed sweetly.

I rolled my eyes at Taylor as Mother rose from her chair and walked into the kitchen to wash and put away the dinner dishes. Even though I had a perfectly new dishwasher that came with the apartment, she refused to use it.

When Mother was out of hearing range, Taylor whispered, “Well, are you going to tell her?”

“Yeah. Give me a minute.”

“You didn’t mention it throughout the entire dinner. I thought that was the grand plan we discussed. You were going to tell her about your daddy’s girlfriend walking out on him and about your search for your birth mom.”

“I’m waiting for the right moment.”

“K, it’s never going to be the exact right moment. Just tell her,” Taylor whispered back. “I have your back.”

I’d asked Taylor to support me in my decision to search for my birth mom by being by my side when I informed Mother of my plan. I wasn’t sure how Mother would react, but this was something I had to do. I had pondered long and hard about finding her over the last year. When I was younger, I never thought I’d want to meet my birth mom, but I had always felt a piece of myself was missing. As much as I loved Mother and Daddy, I still longed to know my original roots. I think everyone has an innate desire to know where they came from.

Almost a year ago, after watching an episode on a talk show, I felt more and more compelled to follow through on my search. One of the guests was a middle-aged woman who was reunited with her birth mom after forty years of separation. It was a true tearjerker. There wasn’t a dry eye in the studio audience or on me.

However, I didn’t want Mother to think that my search for my biological mom made me love her any less. I just wanted answers from my birth mom, that’s all. Nothing more, nothing less. Maybe by understanding her, I could determine why I had made some of the bad decisions I had in my life. Maybe it could help explain why I drew toxic relationships into my life.

I also hadn’t told Mother about Daddy’s present situation yet. I figured I’d tackle that task first. To be honest, I wasn’t sure how she’d react about that either. On a small level, I’m sure she would gloat. Daddy left Mother for a younger woman and now that younger woman had left him for someone. Used him and left him, high and dry. I’m positive that tidbit of information would give Mother some form of satisfaction, and an “I told you so” was somewhere in that equation. I wasn’t sure if she’d want to speak with him, though. On the surface, she appeared to despise the man. Deep down, I think she still loved him with everything she had.

Taylor was still stretched out on the sofa, making herself at home while she flipped through magazines that were spread out neatly on the coffee table. My entire apartment was spotless. Mother had cleaned up from top to bottom and had even gone grocery shopping. I had a week’s supply of cooked and frozen meals in my freezer. And she washed and dried my clothes.

“Mother, you sure you don’t need any help?” I shouted into the kitchen.

“No. You and Taylor entertain yourselves. I’m just fine, don’t worry about me.”

I knew she wouldn’t ask for any help. She was still spoiling me and treating me as an invalid. However, I’d have my home back by tonight. I was ashamed to say I was extremely happy.

“Mother, guess who I spoke with a few days ago?”

“I don’t know. Who?” she asked, distracted.

“You’re not going to guess?” I asked, stalling for time.

“Kennedy?”

“I talked with Daddy.”

Silence followed. Taylor kept her head buried in the magazine.

Finally, she responded. “Good for you, dear.”

“Daddy said to tell you hello and asked how you were doing.”

“Ump.”

“And he said he needs to talk with you about something.”

“About what?” she asked, peeking her head around the corner. Curiosity had gotten the best of her.

“I’m just giving you his message. I don’t know; he didn’t tell me,” I lied.

“Honestly, it really doesn’t matter. We have nothing to discuss. He made his choice years ago, now he has to live with that,” she said, walking back into the kitchen to dry the dishes.

“I think that’s what he wants to discuss.”

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Mother dry off her hands with a dishcloth, place it on the stove rack, and slowly walk back into the living room.

It’s now or never.

Taylor pretended to be totally engrossed in an article in
Today’s Black Woman.
I knew it. She wasn’t going to be any help besides moral support.

By now, Mother had trekked the short distance back into the living room. I had her full, undivided attention. “Kennedy, what are you talking about? Stop speaking in riddles. First you say you don’t know, and then you say you do. What does your father want to discuss?”

“You really should talk to him.”

“I’ve already told you, I have nothing to discuss with that old fool. I should have listened to my parents years ago and never married him.”

“Well, I don’t know, Mother. This really isn’t my business; I should let Daddy tell you.”

“Tell me what? You’ve gone this far, you might as well spill the rest.” Mother stood there and glared down expectantly at me; she stood her ground and wasn’t going anywhere without answers to her questions.

Internally, I debated back and forth if I should render the news. However, with her nosey self, I knew it would kill her if she didn’t find out what I was talking about. She probably wouldn’t even go home and that certainly was not happening.

“I’ll tell you,” I stated swiftly.

“I’m waiting,” she said, silently tapping her right foot with her left hand propped on her hip. I looked to Taylor for help; she was totally into that magazine.

“Loretta left Daddy.”

“She what?”

“Loretta left Daddy a few weeks ago.”

I saw the beginnings of a smile forming on Mother’s lips, but she quickly tried, unsuccessfully, to bring it under control.

“Serves him right. Old geezer thinking he can handle a young thing like that home wrecker. She is nothing but a she-devil in disguise.”

I remained silent. I didn’t comment one way or another.

“What does he want from me? I know he doesn’t think he can come crawling back to me now that that Jezebel has tossed him away like yesterday’s garbage. Serves him right,” she gloated.

“He just asked me to deliver his message. And I’ve done that.”

“Ump. I’ve moved on. I have a very nice gentleman friend,” Mother cited to herself more than to me. “He treats me just fine and appreciates a mature woman.”

Taylor looked up once, smiled at Mother, and immediately looked back down at the magazine. I wanted to strangle her. Some help she turned out to be.

“I guess that hussy got tired of waiting for his Viagra to kick in. Probably got herself a young stud that didn’t need the stuff; his worked just fine. I was lucky if your daddy could handle one round of lovemaking.”

“Mother, I don’t know and I really don’t need to know all the personal details,” I gushed as I caught Taylor, out of the corner of my eye, trying to hold back a giggle. I blushed.

“See, Taylor, that’s what I like about you. Always have. You don’t let your world revolve around one man.”

“Ma’am?” she questioned, finally looking up for longer than five seconds.

“You don’t give your heart away to the first man who comes along with sweet words and promises. You know who you are and you’re comfortable in your own skin. I admit, I’ve learned the hard way, but I’m still trying to make Kennedy understand that in order to love we don’t have to become something we aren’t. We don’t have to lose ourselves in the process.”

With those comments, Mother excused herself, turned, and headed into her bedroom to finish packing her last few items. Boxes were all over the place. I hadn’t realized how much stuff she had accumulated during her stay.

“I think that went well,” Taylor laughed, smiling my way. I simply rolled my eyes at her.

“That was strange. Even though she was gloating and happy that Daddy and Loretta’s relationship ended, she still found a way to flip it in our direction.”

“And speaking of that, what have you been telling your mom about me?”

“Nothing. You know I don’t gossip with Mother like that. She did seem to have you pegged though. I guess she calls them as she sees them.” I giggled. This time Taylor did the eye rolling.

“Don’t laugh, K. She had your number too. And you didn’t even have the opportunity to tell her about your search for your birth mom.”

“I know,” I stated, looking disappointed.

“Maybe today wasn’t a good time anyway. She has had enough news for one day.”

“Yeah, I think you’re right,” I said, sitting in the love seat across from the sofa.

“Have you started yet?”

“Started what?”

“Your search, silly,” Taylor said.

“Sorta. I’ve registered with a couple of agencies and given them all the information I’ve been told over the years, which isn’t much. Maybe this isn’t a good idea after all and I should drop it.”

“K, don’t look so down and give up before you even begin. Personally, I think you should pursue it. I’ll ask around and see if I can get a referral for an agency too.”

I remained silent.

“We’ve discussed this, K. You deserve to have some answers. You’re just feeling anxious right now.”

“That I am.”

“Whether your mom realizes it or not, she does too.”

“What?”

“Deserves some answers. She should talk to your dad.”

By eight o’clock that night, Taylor and I had successfully moved Mother back home, safe and sound. After receiving a stern lecture and more unsolicited advice before leaving her house, I was finally behind closed doors at my own place. After wrapping up some containers of leftovers, Taylor left.

It felt funny not having Mother at my apartment; it was downright lonely and suddenly too quiet. I hadn’t realized I had gotten so used to her constant chatter and presence. Now, there was just silence. Silence that gave me an opportunity to think, reflect, and remember. Of course, Drake was the main focus. Finding my birth mom came in a close second. I had never realized how badly I wanted to connect with her until I made the decision to search for her.

By nine o’clock, I had my music blasting as I strolled around buck-naked, lighting candles throughout the place. Silence is not always golden.

Monday morning came before I knew it, or was ready for it. I absolutely hate Monday mornings. They are a constant reminder that I’m a slave to corporate America for at least the next five days. Ugh.

I awoke sweaty and tangled in my sheets, with my comforter on the floor. I had tossed and turned all night in my lonely apartment. Every sound was elevated tenfold. I witnessed every creak and groan of the walls settling. I heard my upstairs neighbor when he arrived home and attended to various household duties. I swear the man is a night owl, or vampire. Who vacuums at ten at night? Faintly, I could even pick up traffic sounds two streets over, on a major bypass.

Around six o’clock
A.M
., just as I was finally dosing off into a deep, restless sleep, the alarm clock blared me awake. I lay there for another ten minutes, unable to move the few feet to the bathroom to begin my day.

I felt horrible and I didn’t look any better with the heavy, puffy bags concentrated under my eyes. I didn’t feel like going into work, but if I didn’t I knew I’d mope around the apartment all day. For some reason, I was afraid to be alone with my random thoughts. So, off to work I went, grumpy and all. If I had known what was coming, I would have stayed at home, in bed.

Around nine o’clock, after I’d finished off my first can of soda, I had a surge of energy. I could feel the caffeine and sugar surging through my veins, giving me an instant high. It gave me renewed energy to tackle the massive e-mails in my inbox. In need of a diversion from my issues, I dove in.

At ten o’clock, my manager informed me that there was an emergency meeting upstairs that I was to attend in her absence. She had another client meeting that couldn’t be missed, and since she couldn’t be in two places at once, I was her stand-in. My stomach immediately fell to my knees because I knew Drake would be a part of the mandatory meeting. I’d have to be in the same room with him for at least an hour or more. That realization frightened me and made me sick to my stomach.

At first, I debated faking illness and leaving for the day, but I couldn’t run from him forever. Besides, my manager believed in me and confirmed I was an asset by sending me to represent our department at an important meeting. Today was the day I’d make a stand and prove I was strong. Drake wanted me to bow down and surrender. I refused.

I arrived upstairs ten minutes before the meeting was to begin. I figured I’d need the additional minutes to pull myself together and psych myself up. Plus, I needed to review the agenda. A friendly administrative assistant informed me in which conference room the meeting was to be held. I was one of the first to arrive in the large conference room at the end of the hallway. I spoke to the two other women who were already there and made sure I secured a seat near the middle of the table. I didn’t want to be up front, where I knew Drake would be. Yet, I didn’t want to entirely disappear at the very back, either.

Slowly, different managers starting drifting in with cups of freshly brewed coffee and pen and notepads in hand. Drake was one of the last to arrive. For just a quick second, I saw the surprise flash across his face when he saw me seated at the massive table. I looked down at my yellow legal pad and pretended to read my briefing. As always, his presence intoxicated and over-whelmed me.

“Okay, people, let’s go ahead and get this meeting started,” Drake said, chairing the meeting and looking from one to the other of us. “We all have a lot on our plates today, and I apologize for taking you away from other matters. However, we have a small crisis on our hands that needs to be addressed and handled as promptly as possible.”

He stood tall and confident as he went on to inform us that several of our major clients were threatening to pull out once their contracts ended in a couple of months. Their company bigwigs had complaints of inferior service and poor customer service, among other things, and said they could obtain lower pricing structures elsewhere.

They had been clients for many, many years and brought in an enormous amount of revenue. Everyone seated at the table knew there was no way in hell we could afford to lose them. We had to handle them with kid gloves and come up with a planned resolution; our jobs depended upon it.

Drake skillfully went over the history of our clients, revenue figures, and then addressed each complaint. When he came to the customer service piece, he looked directly at me for guidance.

“It appears we have Miss Logan in our presence today. For those of you who don’t know her, she’s a senior RSR and very familiar with these particular clients. Maybe she can be so kind as to address some of these issues concerning customer service.” Then he looked at me again and smiled, knowing he had put me on the spot. I wasn’t prepared. I was simply sitting in for my manager. He knew that.

All eyes turned in my direction for clarification and understanding. I felt my face flushing. I swallowed the lump in my throat and gulped.

“Mr. Collins, this is the first time that I’ve been made aware of these complaints concerning our department. As you know, I’m sitting in for my manager who had a conflicting appointment. I’ll be happy to tag this as a take-away item, investigate, and report back to everyone ASAP.”

Drake sat there with a big smirk on his face. I wanted to slap it off. Honestly, I just wanted to slap him, period. “Miss Logan, as you know, this is of a most urgent nature. Time is of the utmost importance. Can you shed any light at all on the current situation? And when can we expect to receive your report?”

“Today, by five o’clock.”

Not trying to shift blame, I proceeded to explain what I knew of the situation, starting with high turnover ratios in our department contributing to unusually heavy workloads. Until very recently, multiple reps had handled the clients’ accounts.

“Very good. Thank you, Miss Logan, for your input,” Drake stated, as his eyes eagerly took me in. “I’ll expect to have that report, in more detail, by five o’clock sharp. Please copy everyone in this room as well.”

“Thank you, Mr. Collins,” I responded. I was pleased with my comeback in his effort to make me look incompetent in front of my colleagues.

“Unless there are any more questions or concerns, I suggest we all get back to work, and with your takeaways in hand, be prepared to meet again on Wednesday, same time and place. I’ll have my administrative assistant send out an agenda. Thank you.”

Everyone rose to leave, chatting among themselves. “Miss Logan, may I speak with you for a minute, please?”

I wanted to scream out, “Hell no,” but controlled myself.

“Sure,” was all I said. Drake was now seated at the head of the table. He hadn’t looked up again and was reading his notes. By now, mostly everyone had filtered out the room into the hallway.

“Do you mind closing the door, Miss Logan, so that we may speak privately?”

As I got up to close the door, I could feel his eyes taking me in. Caressing my body. At one time, I enjoyed knowing that my man was watching me. Now, it made my skin crawl. I stopped myself from scratching. Fearing the conversation, I turned slowly around, didn’t make eye contact, and sat two seats down from him.

“You did great today. I put you on the spot intentionally, but you were quick on your feet. I respect the way you didn’t tolerate everyone placing full blame on your department for the mess we are in. You were very loyal.”

“Loyal to those who deserve it.”

Drake calmly laughed and stared at me for a few seconds.

“You look very nice today.”

“What do you need to speak with me about?”

“Oh, so now you don’t have any manners? You look very nice today,” he repeated.

“Thank you.”

Drake reached for my hand. “I’ve missed you, Kennedy. I can’t get you out of my head.”

I pulled my hand from his reach. “Is that all, Mr. Collins?” I acted as if I hadn’t heard his previous comment.

“Did you hear me?”

“Yes, I certainly did. Is that all?”

“Wow. This is a different side of you. I’m not used to all this feistiness coming from you.”

Drake chose that moment to move and sit directly next to me. I instantly felt a powerful combination of uneasiness and desire rise from the pit of my stomach. Despite my negative feelings for him, he was still a very handsome and sexy man. No one could take that away from him. And today, dressed in a black suit with a crisp white shirt, his hair freshly cut and smelling divine, I couldn’t help but notice and wonder how he could look so good on the outside and be so messed up on the inside.

“You are so beautiful. You’re all I think about lately. When are you going to forgive me and let bygones be bygones?” He reached over and caressed my face and hair.

I froze.

I couldn’t believe what he was saying. Let bygones be bygones. Like we had had a simple argument over something trivial. He was either in denial, or totally insane; maybe both.

“How about never? Is that clear enough?”

“You can’t mean that. I promise, what happened will never happen again. It was a test.”

“If that’s all, I have to get back to my desk. I have a report to deliver by five. Sharp.” I stood to leave.

He roughly grabbed my arm and pushed me back down into the chair. “This meeting isn’t over. I am your superior, Kennedy, and don’t you forget that. I can make your life a living hell. With the economy the way it is, now isn’t a good time to search for a new job. Do you understand me?”

I didn’t respond, partly because I was in shock.

Drake then reached down, boldly placed his large hand inside my blouse and fondled my left breast, first gently, then more roughly as I attempted to pull away.

“What are you doing? Take your hands off me,” I screamed through gritted teeth.

Drake grabbed me by the wrist. “We’ll continue this conversation later, Kennedy.”

“Don’t hold your breath.”

“Good day, Miss Logan. We’ll talk later. Real soon, away from here.”

“Stay away from me. I mean it, or—”

“Or you’ll what? Go to your manager, who is seriously sweating me by the way, and tell her that I’ve been fucking you silly and that you’ve loved every damn minute of it? I don’t think so.”

I looked at him in utter disbelief, not moving. Frozen in time.

“Kennedy, you don’t air your dirty laundry like that. You’re too much of a lady. Well, that’s what everyone thinks anyway. I’ve seen the real Kennedy. The real freak.”

“Stop,” I screamed, placing my hands over my ears to block out his words.

“Kennedy, you should know by now that I get what I want, one way or the other. And I want you. And I will have you,” Drake stated, tracing a circle around my nipple through the sheer silk of my blouse.

I slapped his hand away. “Why are you doing this to me?” I cried.

“Because I can and I haven’t given up on us.”

“You’re sick.” I shook my head sadly. “I can’t believe I thought I loved you. You don’t even know the meaning of the word. How could I have been so blind? So misled?”

“At some point in time, y’all all do…think you love me. Women always confuse a good fuck with love. I, on the other hand, know that good pussy is just that: good pussy. Nothing more, nothing less. Fix yourself up and get back to work.”

With that, Drake turned and readied himself to walk out of the room. Not another word was spoken, but the tension in the air could slice through steel.

After I had composed myself enough to walk out of the conference room, I found the administrative assistant sitting at her desk, looking at me curiously. I turned away and kept walking. As I stifled a sniffle, I could feel her questioning eyes boring into my back.