If I Can't Have You, page 4
part #1 of If I Can't Have You Series
“She mentioned it.”
“See, that’s what I’m talking about. How did she mention it?”
Loretta sighed heavily. “What’s the real concern here, Chicago? It’s not like Madison is broke. She has her own money. She runs her family business. We both know they’re building that huge mixed-use development off of San Felipe and Post Oak. Since you’re asking my opinion, I think what you guys should do is get a prenup.”
Her defensiveness indicated I’d struck a nerve. Her leg started shaking. Sips grew into gulps.
“That’s just it. I don’t want a prenup, and I definitely don’t want a marriage that will end in divorce. I want Madison to have our babies, and I want complete trust between us. She’s already told me we have to have a nanny, and our baby has to have new clothes every week, just like Raynell. Madison has a lot of respect for you. I’m okay with what she wants, and I’m going to make sure she has a full-time live-in housekeeper.”
Loretta shrugged her neck back an inch. “Oh no! That’s what you can’t do. I know my girlfriend, and she will not have another woman living under her roof, no matter how big it is.”
I laughed. “You’re right. Is Madison a one-man kind of woman?” I asked, taking a huge swig from my glass.
Loretta’s beverage almost escaped her lips. She covered her mouth.
I wasn’t sure if she was covering for her girlfriend or not, but I wanted to believe her silence was confirmation that Madison would be faithful.
“Look, I don’t want to worry when I’m on the road working. She’s your girl. You’ve known her since elementary school, so you’ve got a head start on me. Please tell me the truth. I promise I won’t tell Madison what you say.”
“I can’t give you her truth,” Loretta said, shaking her leg. “What you need to do is make a list of all your questions, take Madison to dinner, and ask her. Now I have a question for you, if you don’t mind.”
Ready to let the conversation about Madison go, I said, “It’s the least I can do.”
“Thanks,” Loretta said, moving closer to me. “I’m a good woman. I love hard. I try to give men the benefit that they’re good, when I meet them. Like my daughter’s father, Raynard. It breaks me down to know I still love him, and he left me for another woman. We haven’t been together for six years, and he still hasn’t given me a reason for ending the relationship. All he said was ‘It’s not you. It’s me.’ I wanted to marry Raynard, but he married someone else. Do you guys pick women like Madison because they’re light-skinned, gorgeous, look like supermodels, and they’re fun?”
Not so much the light-skinned part mattered to me, but I wanted to say, “Uh, yes. Men love strikingly exotic-looking women.”
“Do I need to change to get my child’s father to divorce her and marry me?”
“She’s the former Miss Houston.” I knew that because Madison had told me. “Gloria is used to competing, winning, and she has his son.”
Loretta’s eyes narrowed. “I had his child first. Am I not worthy because I’m not some damn desperate beauty pageant queen?”
Wow, I couldn’t lie to Loretta. She was beautiful, but she wasn’t Gloria or Madison. They had the kind of attractiveness and femininity that made men want to hand them their wallet. The first time I saw Madison, I paid the tab for her and her two friends by putting up my credit card without caring what the bill was. I later learned the two friends with her were Loretta and Tisha.
“You are worthy,” I said, hoping to ease Loretta’s tension.
“Then what made him leave me?” she asked. Her large brown eyes filled with tears.
I almost felt responsible for her pain. Loretta made me think of the woman I’d left to be with Madison. My mother loved my ex, and it wasn’t that Mom didn’t like Madison. But my mother did say, “That there girl is one of them light-complexion Creoles with parents closer to kin than kind.”
What Mama had meant by that was down South, especially in the Golden Triangle—Beaumont, Orange, and Port Arthur, Texas—family married family to keep the white French masters’ blood as pure as possible. Light would propose to light, including first cousins, before they’d marry dark like Loretta and darker like Tisha. I wasn’t Creole, but I was fair-skinned; and I loved me some Madison and was blessed that she loved me too.
I wasn’t sure why Raynard had left Loretta, but I was certain just like she didn’t have answers for me, I didn’t have any for her.
“Do you like that construction worker guy who works for Madison?” I asked, trying to take the conversation in a different direction.
Loretta hesitated again.
“What’s wrong?”
“Have you seen him?”
“No. Madison mentioned you were going out with him.”
“Besides your knowing way too much of my business . . . that’s just it. I liked him at first, but after a few dates—and please let’s not talk about sex—he’s history. But he’s from Port Arthur.”
“Light-skinned?”
“No, he’s dark, but crazy as hell.”
“Grew up near the tracks?”
“How’d you know?” she asked.
We both laughed.
“They’re crazy too,” I said. “All those refineries down there—and not to mention, one of them is expanding their plant—the pollution is killing folks. The people who live right across those tracks got it the worst. They probably have mental disorders, cancer, and only God knows what from inhaling fumes twenty-four/seven. So basically what I’m saying is even if he’s not Creole, he’s probably messed up in the head.”
Loretta finished her drink. “Perhaps that’s his problem, but I just think he’s a compulsive pleaser who needs to be constantly praised. Maybe you can set me up on a blind date with your brother,” Loretta said, then laughed.
Wondering how many other African-American single moms were in search of the man of their dreams, I understood where Loretta was coming from.
“I can’t make any promises, but I’ll see what I can do.”
I wasn’t sure I wanted to be responsible if things didn’t work out. Then she might hate me. But Chaz was single, and he was a good man.
“Thanks for hearing me out. Can I ask one last favor?” I questioned.
“Only if you promise to hook me up.”
“Consider it done,” I said, then knelt in front of Loretta. “Since we’re members of the same church, would you pray with and for me, and I’ll do the same for you?”
Loretta knelt in front of me; we held hands. I knew Madison was Loretta’s best friend, but Madison didn’t pray. That didn’t mean she wasn’t spiritual. Her heart was in the right place. Right now, though, I needed a prayer partner.
“Lord, I ask that You guide us in the direction that will continuously serve you. If there is anything that should be revealed to us, we ask that You show us. Please protect Loretta’s heart and in Your time, Lord, send her a man deserving of all she is ready to offer and receive. In Jesus’ name, amen.”
Loretta whispered, “Amen.”
I stood. “I hope you don’t mind if I call you from time to time to pray with me.” My heart spoke to Loretta. She was a good woman. Unlike Madison, Loretta seemed transparent. But I wasn’t confused. I was in love with Madison Tyler.
“I’d like that,” Loretta said. “May I do the same?”
Of course I couldn’t say no. We exchanged cell numbers. Before escorting me to the door, Loretta led me through her dining area and kitchen to a room at the back of her house.
“Wow!” My eyes lit up.
“This is my prayer room. I wanted you to see it.”
“This is magnificent. I might have to do this.”
Loretta escorted me to the door. I hurried to my brother’s car parked in front of Loretta’s house. He drove in the opposite direction of Madison’s home on West Oak Drive North.
“How’d it go?” Chaz asked.
“I still love her, man. I’m going for it.”
“Marriage isn’t something you go for, like an onside kick or a first down on fourth, with one to go. You need to be a hundred percent sure about Madison. Mom has reservations and I do too. I was hoping your conversation with Loretta would have opened your eyes to the truth. Madison is in it for your money.”
Chaz was a year younger than me. I was supposed to give him advice. After leaving Loretta’s house I wasn’t apprehensive about marrying Madison.
“You know Mom isn’t the type that believes no woman is good enough for us.”
I told Chaz, “Mom will learn to love Madison and so will you.”
“Chicago, you have to pay attention to what Madison isn’t saying. You do that shit all day in business. Do that shit with her.”
My fiancée wasn’t my client. She was the best woman for me, I was sure of that. She was incredibly gorgeous, blond, and smart.
“Changing the subject, I want you and Loretta to double-date with Madison and me.”
Chaz tapped on the brakes. “Females of a feather, man . . . Forget that, no way.” Pressing the accelerator, he smiled. “Maybe that’s not a bad idea. I might be able to get Loretta to tell me what she wouldn’t tell you.”
CHAPTER 4
Granville
My lovely Loretta was the only woman I wanted. I couldn’t let her go. Hadn’t seen her in over a week since our date at the Grand Lux Cafe. I wondered if she caught the bouquet at her friend’s wedding. That would prove to her that she should be wearing my ring. I prayed she missed me the same way I tossed and turned at night over her. Not communicating with my woman for the past twenty-four hours was driving me crazy.
Looking at the picture of Loretta on my nightstand, next to her engagement ring, I wished she were here in my bed when I opened my eyes this morning. Yesterday she’d texted “not today” to me, but today was a different day. I sat in my spacious one-bedroom apartment on Potomac, off San Felipe, texting her: baby give me 1 more chance . . . baby baby give me 1 more chance.
I laughed aloud at my great sense of humor and timing to think of that song by Notorious B.I.G.
My two-story triplex had one unit up and two down. Mine was at the top. I didn’t have a five-bedroom, six-bathroom double-decker, like Loretta had. Didn’t understand why she had to have all that space for two people. My penthouse suited me fine. Had just enough space for Loretta and me; but with Raynell and when Loretta had our kid, I’d have to upgrade us to two bedrooms. Not right away. Raynell could sleep on my fold-out couch and share the living room with the baby, or the baby’s crib could be in our bedroom. But first I had to marry Loretta. I respected her too much to move in with her. And I’d never treat her like a whore—the way Raynard had done by knocking her up and never giving her his last name.
Two minutes later she hadn’t replied, so I sent her a second text: let me pick you up from work for lunch. please loretta.
I wanted to add, damn bitch, I’m trying to be nice to you, but I didn’t.
Another two minutes had gone by and she hadn’t replied, so I started typing, i’ll be in the park . . .
“Damn!”
I answered the ringing phone, but hung up on my brother’s call without saying hello. I had to start my text all over. What I really had to do was get rid of this cheap old-ass cell phone. After lunch with Loretta I was going to stop at AT&T on Westheimer, near my house, and get one of those new iPhones.
Retyping, i’ll be in the parking . . .
“Damn! What the fuck!” I shouted, then answered, “What’s up, bro? What’s up?”
“Hey, man, chill. Mom called. She’s not feeling too good. We need to go to Port Arthur right now and check on her. I’ll pick you up.”
Today was my only day off this week. If I didn’t see Loretta, I’d have to wait until the weekend. When she had her daughter, she didn’t come over or let me visit them. I’d met Raynell once, by accident, when I’d shown up at Loretta’s house an hour early. She’d warned me not to do that again. Something about not wanting a man around her little girl unless she was sure he was going to be a permanent part of their lives. I had to make certain I was that man.
“I’m on my way,” my brother said.
Mom always claimed she wasn’t doing well when she got lonely and wanted us to come by. Normally, I wouldn’t mind and I’d pick up ribs, chicken, fish, shrimp, oysters, corn on the cob, and crawfish to grill, fry, and boil for Moms.
“Hey, I’ve got lunch plans with Loretta. I’ll come down later and bring a spread.”
“I thought you said she dumped you,” Beaux said.
Growing up, his name was easier to pronounce than it was to spell. Moms could’ve just put “Bow” on his birth certificate, like the ribbon on a package, but she had to outdo her friends when it came to naming us.
“She wants me back, baby.” I prayed that was true.
My phone buzzed with a text in the middle of our conversation: I’ll meet you, but I only have a few minutes.
“Ha-ha, bro. I told you! I told you, man! That’s her right there!”
“Calm your country ass down. You can take her out anytime. Mom needs us. I’m picking you up now. Stay put.” Beaux ended the call.
I tossed my phone on the bed, ran from my living room to my bathroom. Showered. Shaved. Put on cologne, jeans, and my favorite black ostrich cowboy boots. Those were the ones I had on when Loretta rode me like she couldn’t get enough. I felt the dreaminess in my eyes. I was the luckiest man in the world to have the most amazing woman.
Putting on my black shirt, I’d button it up later. I grabbed my hat, keys, wallet, cell, and ran outside to my black four-door Super Duty pickup truck. Usually, I’d do a walk-around and inspect everything from my chrome grille to the tailgate. But if Beaux got here before I left, we’d end up brawling.
Tearing out of the driveway, the back of the truck fishtailed. I sped toward San Felipe, hooked a right before the yellow light turned red, and drove off.
Sitting at the light at Post Oak Lane, I was a few blocks from Loretta’s house, but she wasn’t at home. I had to make it to St. Joseph’s Pharmacy before her lunch break.
I parked and texted Loretta: i’m outside whenever you’re ready baby.
Waiting for her was my pleasure. I’d stay out here until sunset, if I had to, just to see her again. I wished Loretta could take the rest of the day off, let her daughter stay with her mom or Raynard tonight, and then drive down to Port Arthur with me.
Hot damn! Here she comes! I almost peed in my jeans. Blinking my eyes, I turned on my sexy look that Loretta loved. I hopped out, ran around to the passenger side, and opened the door for her.
I stood with open arms. “Can I get a hug?”
She got inside and closed the door. That was okay. At least I was having lunch with her.
“Anywhere you want to go,” I said, starting my engine.
“Somewhere close. I don’t have time for lunch. Coffee is better,” she said.
Deepening my scratchy voice, I said, “Okay, baby.” I wanted to take her someplace nice and dine outside. The sun was shining to a romantic eighty degrees, but the service would take too long for her.
“Granville, I’m not your baby.”
“Okay, dear.”
“Let me make myself clear. I’m not interested in being with you, but if you’re open to it,” she said, handing me a business card, “my friend is interested in you. And wipe the sweat from over your upper lip.”
I kept both hands on the wheel. Too pissed off to look at her, or give a damn about my lip, I stared ahead.
She dropped the card in the cup holder. “Keep an open mind. She’s from Port Arthur and she’s not exactly a stranger to you.”
I had an admirer. Wow, that made me feel good, but I was no fool. Loretta was testing me to see if I was faithful to her. Damn! I should’ve gotten her engagement ring. She’d get it later.
“I only have eyes for you, dear,” I said, driving toward the freeway.
“Where are we going?” Loretta asked.
I blasted one of my favorite country songs by Brad Paisley, then entered onto I-45N. I sang along with him. I had to give Loretta all my love. Didn’t know what I’d do if she left me. Was she cheating on me? The thought of Loretta giving my stuff to another man angered me.
“Are you fucking crazy? Take me back to work!” Loretta yelled.
Ignoring her, I merged onto I-10E, driving seventy miles an hour.
“Let me out of here!” Loretta screamed. “Stoooooop!”
Checking my rearview mirror—the car behind me was a safe distance—I slammed on my brakes. Her body hit the seat, then flung forward. Almost hitting her head on the dashboard, she grabbed the door handle. I plunged the accelerator and watched the back of her head hit the headrest. The buckle snapped into place, pinning her to the seat. She was lucky that her air bag hadn’t exploded.
She pulled out her cell phone, pressed a few buttons, then yelled, “Tisha! Help me! I’ve been kidnapped! Granville—”
The face of a dark-skinned woman, with a spiky-looking Afro, appeared on Loretta’s phone. Her teeth were nice and white. I wondered if that was the woman who had the hots for me.
“Hi, Tisha. You want to go out with me?” I asked, staring at Loretta’s phone.
“You fucking idiot! I’d date a dog first! Take my girl back to—”
“Is that what you think I am? A dog?” I stomped the brakes and plunged the accelerator again. Loretta’s body jerked once more. “We can do this until I run out of gas, and I’m on full,” I said. “Fuck that bitch! Hang up the damn phone, Loretta. Better yet, turn it off!”
Loretta was more precious when she was vulnerable. I hated yelling at her. “I’m sorry, baby. It’s just that you make me this way. If you’d do things my way, let me be the man, we wouldn’t have to go through this. Tisha is pretty, but I don’t want her. You’re mine. To make this up to you, I’m taking you to visit my mom. You have to address her as ‘Mrs. Washington,’ or she’ll go off on you. And be nice to my mom. . . . Oh, you can call your job and let them know you won’t be back in.”
Loretta was speechless. Tears streamed down her chocolate cheeks, rolled over her raspberry lip gloss. She had clamped her phone between her thighs; she pulled it out and tucked it in her bra.
