“Hey, Reese. Jay asked me to come over here and check on you. He said he, um, been callin’ you but you’re not answering?” He motioned his hands like he didn’t know. “He wanted me to come by and see if you needed anything.”
“I’m sorry the music was too loud.” I laughed.
He reached his hand in his pocket and grabbed some money. He handed it to me.
“What’s this for?” I asked, looking down at the money.
“I don’t know. I’m just tryin’ to be a good friend and do what I was asked. Jason wanted me to bring it to you.”
“Well thank you for being a good friend but I don’t need it. I’m okay,” I said calmly.
“Look, Reese, all I know is I’m to leave this with you, so take it.” He pushed it toward me.
I looked at the stack rolled up in his palm. I thought about it a few seconds, then took the money and walked back in the house. “Come on in, Kev. Want something to drink?”
Kev followed, I was sure wondering what kind of game I was playing. He walked behind me, following me into the plush living room filled with nice African American artwork.
“Uh, naw, not right now. I’m not thirsty. Nice place,” Kev said as he sat down on the chocolate suede sectional. He sat back and got comfortable, putting both his arms across the back of the couch.
“Thanks,” I said while picking up my cell to call Jason. “Hold on a sec, Kev. Let me call this man so he won’t worry ’bout me.” I touched him on his knee, and stood there waiting for Jason to pick up the phone. “Hey, baby.” Kev watched, looking at my smile and eyes light up when I heard Jason’s voice. “Baby, I didn’t know you were calling me. I was in here dancing and blasting my music.” I laughed.
Kev sat on the couch, watching and smiling every few minutes when I glanced over at him.
“Okay, baby, I’m going to talk to Kev for a little bit and wait for you to call me back. Hope everything is going well and hurry back!” I ended the call. I sat down on the other end of the couch and we began to talk until Kev saw a picture of my mom.
“Who is this? She looks just like you.”
I paused before answering, knowing the pain of losing my mom was still there. I thought for a minute on how it took God to get me through her death. I took a deep breath and then I whispered aloud, “Thank you, Jesus.” As simple as I was acting, I could never forget Him or what He had done for me even if He never did another thing.
I got up and then sat beside him on the couch. I took the picture from him gently and looked at it. “This is my momma.”
“Yo’ momma is fine, girl. Where she at?” he playfully stated.
I chuckled, then covered my mouth, and I got off the couch and went over to my patio window and looked out. “My momma passed when I was younger.”
Kev got up and followed me. “Oh, Reese, I’m sorry, I didn’t know. Jason never said anything to me about that.”
“It’s okay. I know you didn’t mean anything by it. It’s still very hard for me at times.”
“Reese, I understand. I lost my mom a few months ago.”
I heard the pain in his voice. He spoke slowly, almost as if it hurt to say the words. I imagined it did, knowing the pain of losing my own momma. I turned away from the window and walked over to Kev. “I’m sorry, Kev. I know what you’re going through.”
“I came back to Ohio right after her funeral, but I wonder sometimes if I should have just stayed up there.” He gazed out the window a few seconds then said, “I got to get myself together.”
I wondered what he was referring to, but didn’t ask any questions. I walked up to Kev and hugged him. Kev embraced my hug. “You know this is the first time since my mom’s passing that I felt some type of warmth.”
We both closed our eyes and held the embrace a few seconds longer. I could smell his cologne and felt myself melting from his touch. While Kev held on, I imagined being his. There was something about him that attracted me to him. It was uncontrollable and felt completely right, even though I knew it was wrong.
I opened my eyes and realized this wasn’t appropriate, and let him go. I could feel that he felt the same way, as he had slightly resisted releasing me.
“Thanks, Reese. Sometimes that’s all you need is a hug,” Kev told me.
“Oh, yeah, that’s what you need sometimes is just a hug,” I agreed. Oh my God! What just happened? I said to myself. We had another moment, that’s what happened.
We sat back down and talked for hours and realized how much we had in common. That became the beginning of our friendship.
Shortly after that day we started spending a lot of time together, but nobody thought anything of it. We were close, inseparable, and told each other everything. Kev told me about him and his woman back in New York and I told Kev all about the troubles Jason and I were starting to have. We comforted one another and never thought anything more of our relationship than just that: two people with a lot in common comforting one another. Well, that’s what we told ourselves anyway, but I knew Kev had feelings for me.
I, on the other hand, felt something for Kev too, but I was loyal to Jason and knew he had been there for me and the boys. So I drowned out my feelings for him with loyalty to Jason, even though Jason’s true colors were starting to show.
Chapter 8
The Truth Hurts
A year into the relationship and Jason had started changing. He was not the loving, caring man I met; he had become mean and he didn’t care who felt his wrath when he became upset. If he was angry because of something he would come in and take it out on me. He frequently verbally abused me with insults. I often asked myself where the Jay I knew went. I could feel it was only a matter of time before Jason would act a complete fool and explode. I felt it coming.
It all started one day when the boys were in their bedroom, playing with toys. I went upstairs to get them to quiet down and get ready for bed. When I reached their room my older boy, Michael, had a gun to my younger son’s head. I screamed and cried out unto my son. “Michael! Put that down!” I was so afraid, tears immediately filled my eyes.
“Mommy, it’s for play, see?” Michael held the gun out to me. “Don’t cry, Mommy. I wouldn’t hurt my baby brother. Okay, Mommy?”
I stood there in their doorway in shock, then ran in and took the gun. “Michael,” I questioned, “where did you get this from? Huh?” I walked away from him with the gun in hand and put my hand to my head and began to cry. “I can’t believe this!”
I walked over to my six-year-old son, Michael, and bent down beside him. Both boys were crying by now and scared. “Where did you get this, baby, huh? Tell Mommy.”
Michael pointed to my room. I closed my eyes. I knew then that Jason had brought that gun in the house. I whispered and looked toward my room. “Show me; show Mommy.”
Michael got up and took me by the hand and led me to my closet. He went way in the back and pointed. “Mommy, that’s where it was, right there.”
