Someone Like Me Page 13

  “The musical was canceled,” Jack says bluntly. “That’s why we want her to pay for the insurance monthly. That way, she doesn’t have to touch her savings.”

  “Jack,” I say as calmly and respectfully as I can. “I’m not a child, and I don’t need you to try and dictate every step that I take. It’s my money, and I will do what I want with it. I may decide to not even get a house, but that’s my decision to make. If I wanted Michael’s opinion, I would have asked him for it. And for the record, I hadn’t told him that the musical had been canceled, but thank you for doing it for me.” I get up from the table and storm out the front door for some air.

  “Hey, wait up,” Michael says as I make my way down the stairs. I stop and wait until he catches up to me, then we begin to walk together. “Why didn’t you tell me the musical was canceled?”

  “I got the call Friday night. I didn’t want you to worry about that. You already had enough on your plate.”

  Michael pulls me into his arms. “I’m so sorry, Mýa. I know that must have hurt when you got that call.”

  “I cried for twenty minutes, but I know I will find something else. I’m determined to do so.”

  He pulls me closer to him, and his hand moves up the small of my back as he holds me. “I hate that you went through something like that and I wasn’t there for you.”

  “Michael, it’s okay. I’m okay. You know Jack gave me a good pep talk.”

  “I still wish I could have been the one to do that. I love you.”

  When I look into his eyes, I see the truth of those words. “I’m ready to give you that kiss now.”

  “Good, because I didn’t get dessert.”

  I laugh, but as he leans over to kiss me, a raindrop hits me on the shoulder. “Did you feel that?” I ask, placing my hands on his chest.

  “The only thing I want to feel is your lips on mine.”

  Another raindrop hits me on my forehead. And then another one. “Michael.”

  “Yeah, I feel them, too. We better get back. You’re not off the hook, you know.”

  “I hope not,” I say as I grab his hand and we run toward the house.

  A light sprinkle begins to dot the sidewalk as we rush up the steps. Michael reaches out and grabs my hand just as I’m about to open the door. I turn around to see a nervous look on his face.

  “Before we go back inside, I want to ask you something.”

  Is this it? I can already feel my lips parting, ready to scream “yes.”

  “Okay,” I say instead, feeling a twinkle of excitement in my toes and not caring that the rain has begun to pick up some.

  Michael clears his throat.

  This is it. Brace yourself, girl. You’re about to be on Marriage Lane.

  “I—I wanted to ask you if you would like to go to the park with me next Sunday to take some photos.”

  What?

  “I know it’s a Sunday, and I know that you like to spend all day over here, but it would be early in the morning, around seven. That’s the perfect time to capture the sun coming up. We’ll finish with enough time to get over here by lunchtime, I promise.”

  I stand there, trying to find my tongue so I can give him an answer that will make any sense. “That sounds great. Looking forward to seeing you in your creative element,” I finally say, hoping that I sound convincing rather than disappointed.

  Looks like we’re still on Love Lane. For now, anyway.

  Chapter Thirty-five

  “I’m sorry, Mýa.” Jack says, the moment Michael and I walk back into the dining room.

  I rush over and hug him. “I’m sorry, too.”

  “As Michelle would have said, family ain’t family unless you’re fighting,” David says while he grabs a piece of Mary’s homemade sweet potato pie and we all laugh.

  “On that note,” Mary says with a look of relief. “Let’s put on some music and play some cards since there’s no Braves game on tonight.”

  “You’re a Braves fan, huh?” David asks Jack.

  “Die-hard. Who do you like?”

  “Michelle was from Chicago, so out of loyalty to my wife, I’d have to say the Cubs. But, I have always secretly been a fan of the Braves.”

  “I’ve always wanted to see Wrigley Field,” Jack says.

  Mary grabs Jack’s hand. “Enough baseball talk. David, you keep this up, and you’ll have Jack talking nothing but baseball all night. I want to play some cards, then I want to dance with this man of mine.”

  Jack gives Mary a quick kiss on the cheek just as I catch Michael and David whispering something to each other out of the corner of my eye.

  What’s that about?

  “Michael, you want to help me take these dishes into the kitchen?” I ask. He nods and starts gathering the plates.

  “I’ll go and find us some cards,” Jack says. “David, you like play spades?”

  “No offense, Mr. Tanner, but you can’t handle me at your spades table.”

  “Is that right?” Jack says with a smirk. “Mary, I think we’re going to have to show David here how it’s done.”

  “I believe we are,” Mary says with a grin of her own.

  “I’ll be there in a second,” I say, grabbing some plates off the table before following Michael into the kitchen. As soon as we’re alone, I ask, “Okay, what’s going on?”

  “What do you mean?” Michael says, placing his dishes in the sink.

  “Why did I get the feeling that you were going to ask me something else on the steps?”

  “Because I was.”

  I knew it!

  I try to keep my hand from shaking as I adjust my grip on the plates in my hands. “So, what was the real question?”

  He takes the dishes out of my hands and places them in the sink, too. “Can I have my kiss first?”

  “Michael,” I say anxiously.

  “Okay.” He moves closer to me and looks deep into my eyes.

  Can he see me flying down Marriage Lane?

  “My broker is having a formal dinner next Saturday, and I was going to ask if you wanted to go, but I know how last-minute that sounds.”

  “Oh.”

  “I’m sorry. I know I should have asked earlier, but considering the situation, I wasn’t sure if I would even go. To be quite honest, I had forgotten about it.”

  “I would love to go.” I would love for you to ask me to marry you, but a formal dinner will have to do for now.

  “You could wear that black dress that you had on yesterday.”

  “You don’t wear a dress like that to a formal dinner.”

  “Why not? I love that dress on you.”

  “I have something to wear, and you’ll love it, too.”

  “I can’t wait,” he says. He leans over to kiss me just as Mary walks into the kitchen.

  I can’t help but laugh at the disappointment on his face. He gives me a kiss on the cheek and then dashes out of the kitchen.

  “Me and my timing,” Mary says as she walks over to the sink and puts the last few dishes in with the rest. “You okay, Mýa? You look more disappointed than Michael did just now.”

  “Yeah, I’m okay. It’s just that I got the feeling that Michael was going to—”

  “Propose?”

  “I know how crazy that sounds, considering.”

  “Considering what?” she says, filling the sink with water and adding a little dish detergent so the dishes could begin soaking.

  “Considering it’s only been a couple of weeks since we started dating.”

  “Mýa, I’ve learned a lot of things in my life. One of them is that you can’t put real love on a timetable. It doesn’t work that way. Love doesn’t say, ‘Since it’s only been a few weeks, let me wait.’ No, love happens at the very moment that it needs to happen.”

  “So, you don’t
think it’s foolish that I thought he was going to propose tonight?”

  “Why would I? You know, I never like to admit that Jack is right about anything, but he called it when he said Michael was in love with you the moment he heard you sing. He was in deep before then, but hearing you that night did something to that man, and he hasn’t been the same since. You put it on him.”

  “Mary! I can’t believe you just said that.”

  “What? How do you think I got Jack? Men need to see there’s something unique about you. Something special. That’s what draws them in.”

  “I can’t believe we’re having this conversation.”

  “Why? We’re both grown, and besides, you felt the same way that night. That’s why you sang that song the way you did.”

  “I do love him, Mary. I love him so much that it scares me.”

  “Love is supposed to scare you. If it doesn’t, you aren’t doing it right. Now, come on. Let’s go play some cards.”

  Chapter Thirty-six

  I feel a wave of uneasiness come upon me as I walk into the restaurant. Everything seemed to be okay when I left last night, but still, I feel I need to be on guard and resolved to do exactly as I told Jack that I would regarding withdrawing money from my savings to pay for the insurance up front, and to buy myself a sofa.

  “Hey, kid,” he says as he looks up and takes a moment to stop cracking what seems to be over a hundred eggs.

  “Morning, Jack,” I say, searching his face for any sign that he’s upset with me.

  “Stop it. We’re good. I was out of line last night and you had every right to remind me that I can’t dictate everything step that you take in life. It’s just hard, because to me—”

  “I’m your daughter,” I say, finishing his sentence for him. “I feel the same way, Jack. I love you and Mary; you’re like parents to me. I don’t want you to feel like I don’t value your opinion or that you can’t offer me advice.”

  “I know you love us, kid, and thanks for saying that you still want this old man’s advice.” He looks down at the bowl. “I think I’ve cracked enough eggs for today.”

  “I’d say.”

  We both look down at the bowl and smile, and I know that all is right in our world again.

  “I meant to tell you that when Mary and I were on our way to the Braves game, we saw a billboard advertising a new jazz restaurant that just opened. It’s by the Goodwill where you met Francine.”

  “The one in Perimeter Mall?” I ask, taking a seat at the small wooden table that Mary purchased a few years back so their employees would have somewhere to sit and eat in the kitchen.

  “Yeah. I didn’t mention it before because you already had a gig, but maybe you should check it out and see if they’re looking for a singer. The billboard said that they’re going to have a live jazz band.”

  “Do you remember the name of it?”

  “Mary might.” He yells for her, and she comes running through the double doors with a frantic look on her face. “Hey, Mary, do you remember the name of that jazz restaurant that we saw the advertisement for? You know that one I’m talking about? The one we saw on our way to the Braves game?”

  “That’s all you wanted?” she asks, slightly annoyed as she places her hands on her hips. “The way you screamed my name, I thought—never mind.”

  “So, do you remember?”

  “I think it was called Jazzmyne’s.”

  “Yeah, that’s it.” He looks over at me. “I knew she would remember. She’s got the memory of an elephant.”

  “Are you calling me an elephant?”

  “No! I…uh…”

  She walks out of the kitchen and back up front before he can finish.

  “I wasn’t calling her an elephant,” he says sheepishly.

  “I’m staying out of that.”

  “Good call,” he says. “So, what do you think? You going to check out that new place?”

  “I’ll give them a ring and see if they need someone. Thanks, Jack.”

  I watch as he puts foil over the eggs, hesitating with each of his movements. Something else must be on his mind, and a speech is probably brewing in that head of his.

  “I was thinking about you buying a house. Maybe you won’t have to go it alone.”

  “Jack.” I know he’s thinking that maybe Michael and I will get married and buy the house together, but I’m not ready for that conversation this morning. I haven’t even poured myself a cup of coffee yet.

  “All I’m saying is that maybe Michael wants to buy a house, too.”

  “I’m not saying it’s impossible, but we haven’t talked about that sort of thing yet.”

  “Let me ask you something.”

  “Sure, Jack.”

  “If Michael asked the question, would you say yes?”

  “With all my heart, but I think that I need to tell him about my past before any of that is a possibility.”

  He looks around and spots a few potential eavesdroppers. “Let’s go to my office.”

  I look at the coffee pot, realizing that I’m not going to get a cup anytime soon, but I follow Jack to his office anyway. I take my usual seat as Jack closes the door.

  “I’ve been thinking about that, too,” he says, moving some papers off his chair and then taking a seat. “After that situation at the funeral, when you saw that detective and all, I think maybe you’re right. Maybe you should tell Michael about your past.”

  “I’m not going to lie, Jack, telling him scares the mess out of me. I’m not sure how he’ll take it.”

  “What’s there to take? Like I’ve said a million times, you were eighteen—young and dumb. I’m sure he’ll see it that way.”

  “But people lost their lives that night, Jack.”

  “That wasn’t your fault. That was all Zee. Look, kid, you didn’t bring that gun, and you didn’t pull the trigger, nor did you even know Zee had it. And let’s not forget that you weren’t inside when it all happened, or that you got out of the car to try to stop him. From my perspective, that blood is all on Zee, including his own.”

  “The judge disagreed. He felt that I should have gotten out of that car and gone to the police or someone who could have helped.”

  Jack slaps a hand on this desk. “I don’t want to have that conversation again.” When he sees me start to protest, he continues. “No, I’m serious, Mýa. Over the past four years, I feel like we’ve had that conversation more times than I can count. Even if you had gotten out of that car and gone for help, it would have been too late, and you know it. Zee was going to do what Zee wanted to do. You focus only on the past, and you never look at what you’ve done since then.” He points to the degree hanging on his wall. “You went to school and got a degree. You work your butt off six days a week, ride that stinky bus every day, and live in that crappy apartment, all so you can save up enough to buy your own home, which shows that you know you can have a better future. You have an amazing voice, and you’re ready to do something with it. And you’re finally starting to see yourself as a beautiful black woman. Like I’ve told you over and over again, stop selling yourself short.”

  “You’re right.”

  Jack stares at me, amazed that I agree with him. I’m amazed at myself. But I feel like the light has finally been turned on in my mind and I get what Jack has been telling me all along.

  “I only hope Michael sees it that way, as well.”

  “Michael loves you. I’m not going to sugarcoat it and pretend like he’s going to be happy about it at first, but I trust that he’ll come to understand it all as I do. It’s your past, not his, and it all happened way before you met him.”

  “What if I lose him, Jack? What if he can’t get past it?”

  “I’m going to tell you something, kid, something that I haven’t spoken about in years.”

  “I know abo
ut your little girl. Mary confided in me.”

  Jack looks down at his desk for a second. “Yeah, that was hard. But what I’m about to tell you is not about that. It’s about me.”

  I sit up in my chair to pay close attention.

  “When Caroline broke my heart, I started drinking. One night, I left a buddy’s house, drunk as a skunk. I should never have gotten behind the wheel, but there I was, at one o’clock in the morning, driving down this little dark road. I didn’t see that the car just up the way had stalled, and by the time I did, it was too late. I lost control and slammed into a pole. Thankfully, I got out of that car with the breath of life still in me. I spent six months in jail and another six months doing community service. After that, I couldn’t get a job because I had a DUI on my record. My father didn’t know what to do with me, so he brought me here, to my grandfather’s restaurant. My grandfather gave me a second chance to do something with my life. When I met Mary, I told her all of that, and she loved me anyway. She didn’t just look beyond my white skin; she looked beyond my past. She focused on the future she and I could make together.”

  I sit back in my chair again and think about Jack’s story. “I hope it turns out that way for me.”

  “If Michael is a real man, it will.”

  “I love you, Jack.”

  “I know, kid. You still going to get your insurance today?”

  “I am. And Michael and I are going to look for a sofa tomorrow.”

  He gives me a sour face.

  “We’re not fighting today, Jack.”

  He throws his hands up in the air. “Fine.” Then, he opens his drawer, pulls out an envelope, and hands it to me.

  “Jack, I can pay for insurance.”

  “It not for insurance or your sofa. I want you to get yourself a chair if you see one you like. That way, Michael has somewhere to sit when he comes by.” He gives me a wink as I shake my head.

  “Jack, you are a mess.”

  “So says my wife. Thankfully, she married me anyway.”

  Chapter Thirty-seven

  The sun is still out even through it’s eight in the evening. I walk into an old but well-kept building on Piedmont Avenue. The gold plaque on the door proudly states that the building belongs to David Montgomery, insurance broker.