Love's Home Run, page 17
But this man, this angry man in front of her meant more to her than any effort she gave to keep Dexter. She wanted Jack in a way she had never wanted any man. Although she hadn't thought of what to say to him, she was dead-set on letting him know her feelings. She wasn't about to give up.
“Damn,” he muttered.
“Jack,” Djuana touched his elbow. “What are you thinking? Talk to me. You have been so talkative, don’t stop now.”
He heard her. At that instant he was comparing her with the many women he had dated in Portland and didn’t answer. As he searched his past, Djuana, in just that instant, came out on top of all the others.
She had never asked about his salary, nor looked for a handout. As a matter of fact, he recalled, she had never let him buy her anything. He did think that if she did want money, she would ask him now. He doubted it, but still asked her a test question.
“What do you expect from me?” His eyebrows were glaring.
Djuana didn’t hesitate. “Nothing.”
Jack just nodded. He was relieved. She’s the one, he knew.
“Look, Jack. If your mind has changed about me. I understand. If you don't want to be with me anymore, I understand.”
He cut her off, “No. It hasn’t. I just need some time to think this over.”
A sharp pain, the feeling of a knife slicing her heart, walloped Djuana. “He’s gone,’’ she deduced.
“I understand.” Her voice was somber. “Take all the time you want.”
She looked at her watch and fought off the tears. “I need to get home. It’s my turn to cook dinner and I don’t feel like hearing my mother's mouth tonight.”
Djuana didn’t want him to, but Jack drove her home. The ride was solemn. When the Pathfinder stopped at her building, she got out and said good night faintly. Jack didn’t look at her as he said good-bye.
She closed the car door quietly.
“Good-bye is forever,” she told him.
Jack hit the steering wheel and cursed softly. “Good night, Djuana,” he said while electronically closing the passenger’s window.
It seemed to her as if he could not wait to pull off. Actually, he watched her until she reached the building’s door.
“I’ve lost him, Tia.” Djuana sobbed.
Tia sat up in her bed and cut off the television. She had expected the call of doom.
“Damn, Dee. He broke up with you?”
“I told him and he burnt rubber outta here,” Djuana was well composed then, yet she had been crying from the time she got in the building until she finished cooking dinner.
“Damn,'' Tia sighed. “I thought he would. I’m sorry.”
Djuana ran by her wild ideas to get him back. “I could go to his house and try to explain it. I don’t think he really understands. Or maybe you could call him. Or I could call Oscar Taylor’s wife. I met her and she seemed nice.
“I just don’t want him to think I was trying to pull anything.”
Tia sighed. “Forget it. If it was meant to be he would have understood. You know, I think you don’t realize what a tough situation you were asking him to be apart of. You’re four months pregnant by another man. He’s a star baseball player.
“What did you really expect him to do?”
“Understand. And still be there,” Djuana sobbed.
Tia shook her head and looked up to the ceiling of her bedroom. The sound of Djuana crying pierced her heart. Her friend did really love the guy and she didn’t think she should.
Djuana cried for a long time on the phone. Tia said little things to help soothe her friend’s broken heart. Nothing helped.
“Tia, I love him. I really, really love him, and I need him,” Djuana said. “I had him, but he’s...Shit.”
Tia swallowed the hurt. “I don’t know what to say.”
Djuana watched the Crowns lose their fifth game in a row, a Saturday afternoon game that Devon wanted very dearly to attend. She had to explain that Jack and she had an argument. To which Devon demanded to know what she did.
Jack had one hit, a hard shot that reached the outfield wall. He raced into second base, having to dive head first to beat the tag. Djuana loved it and, at the same time, hated that he wouldn’t be calling to tell her what he was thinking while he ran.
She tried calling him late that night and received no answer. She would not leave a message on his machine. If he had answered, though, she would have hung up. She knew he didn’t want to talk with her, but she wanted to hear his voice. She was also a tad bit frightened that he wouldn’t return the calls, and thus she would really know he didn’t want to be bothered any more.
Djuana spent that night alone, her first in weeks. She cooked dinner after the game ended, then watched Emma leave to meet her friends to play bingo. Devon was invisible. He ate, then vanished into Emma’s room to watch television. He was highly disturbed about missing hat day at Adkins.
Tia called for a hot second before her first date with a guy from her Art class.
It was then, in the living room alone, Djuana thought of God. He must be testing me, she reasoned. Why else would she finally meet the man of her dreams, and lose him because the man she thought was in love with her was the father of the baby she so dearly wanted months ago. Now that she’s pregnant, she doesn’t want the baby, nor does she want to abort it.
She opened up the family Bible that sat on the coffee table. The large, crimson old testament, hadn’t been open by anyone in two years. The last person to opened it was Calvin during an argument about the Ten Commandments, the movie. Djuana read a few verses, but her mind was not into it. She put the book down and thought to call the only religious person left in the family, Aunt Earline, Emma’s older sister.
Earline, 58 years old, had been married for 32 years before her husband, Steve, passed a year ago. Djuana had always adored their relationship. They seemed happy despite arguments. They always seemed to be making up. Djuana would love spending weekends with them-even the full Sundays in church. Steve would help pass the time by sharing complaints with her during the long services.
Earline always answered her telephone after the sixth ring. She only spoke to important callers, or those who knew her habit. When she heard Djuana’s voice on the other end, she immediately brightened.
After the usual ‘how is everybody?’ and ‘why haven’t you and Devon visited me?’ questions, Djuana asked the best question she could have. And she knew it.
“Aunt E, can I come to church with you tomorrow morning.”
“Can you? Oh, I’d love it!”
“Good. Then I’ll meet you in front of the church at 10.”
“Now, don’t tease me, Darling. Are you really coming?”
“Yes, I will be there.” Damn, Djuana thought. I should visit her more often. “I need to go.”
“Is this about Dexter and the baby.”
“Sort of.” Djuana hadn’t told her, but she knew Emma had burnt up the phone lines.
“Everything will work out, the Lord will take care of it. Darling, I’m so glad you’ve decided to seek His guidance.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
After the loss, Jack drove the streets of Portland. He was going to stop by Djuana’s apartment and tell her he loved her. He passed by Tudor Street twice without turning down her block. He ended up in Cherrywood Heights, where O lived. He drove up their large, U-shaped driveway and parked off the porch. He rang the bell and was surprised to see Sondra open the door.
She smiled brightly at Jack and kissed him. “O didn’t mention you were coming by.’’
“I didn’t know I was. It’s good to see you. Is he in?’’
“He’s in his den.’’
Oscar’s house was a mansion. Ten rooms, and all furnished with the best.
The man of the house was in the elaborate den watching the Gamblers destroy New York on a giant screen, projector-style television.
Jack gave Oscar a tight handshake, and Oscar rose out of his leather recliner to hug him. Sondra came in after Jack.
“What you doing here, fool?'' Oscar asked as he sat back down.
“I needed to talk.''
“Sondra, get Jack a beer.''
“No,’’ Jack waved. “Something stronger would be nice.''
“Hmm. Well, bring us the vodka.'' O flopped back into his chair.
Jack sat on one end of the long, white leather sectional and looked him over. O was in his designer house robe, a thick, white terrycloth with Armani embroidered on the right breast, and socks. He searched for the remote to his expensive entertainment console. The combination stereo, television, VCR wall-unit cost Oscar three thousand dollars and it all had not worked correctly at the same time in the year he’d had it.
“What's up?'' O asked as Sondra brought in the ice and glasses.
Jack watched her make the drinks with attitude. She slammed the glasses on the glass coffee table and loudly shifted about. There was always tension in the Taylor household. Jack knew, as it always was, because of a woman.
“Djuana is pregnant,'' Jack flatly said. He was thinking about small talk first, to break the ice, but he skipped the bull.
O erupted into laughter. He fell to his knees on the rug. “And you chased the bitch! Oh, man. Now that's funny. How much she want?''
Watching his friend ridicule him, Jack realized he was talking to the wrong person. He wanted to believe in Djuana. He knew she was not a golddigger, and golddigging whores were Oscar’s specialty. Twice, once in the minors and again the year before he married Sondra, women hit Oscar with paternity suits. Each time he won out in court. Oscar never had to pay a dime.
“It ain't like that,’’ Jack said as he leaned back on the couch. ‘’She told me this afternoon. And she hasn’t asked for no money.''
“Yet.''
Sondra, shaking her head at her husband, crossed by him and handed Jack a drink. “Do you want more orange juice? It's kinda strong, huh?''
“No thanks,'' he sipped some, all vodka at the top. “I need it this strong''
“Listen, Jack,'' Oscar paused while Sondra handed him his drink. “Just drop her. She's going to be nothing but problems. It ain't your baby...right?''
Jack nodded between sips.
“Well, then why be bothered?'' Oscar asked. “She's gonna need pampers and formula real soon.
“Then Junior will need clothes, pocket change, hair cuts. What? You want to father somebody else's brat?''
Oscar waved his hand at Jack. “Of course you don't. You ain't got to, my friend. Much bitches want to marry you.''
Sondra frowned and yelled at Oscar. “Stop using that word! You are not a rapper.''
“Oh, what that got to do with anything?'' Oscar asked his wife.
“Just watch your mouth in front of me, at least.''
Oscar crossed the room and sat next to Jack. Sondra left. “Listen, keep your eyes open, New.''
He poked Jack in the chest with a finger. “You still rebounding from Vivian.''
Jack shook his head.
Oscar went on, “That's why I know you don't want this chick. You still love Vivian.''
“What are you talking about?'' Jack said.
“You know what I'm saying. When Viv wakes up and leaves that punk again, you'll take her back a second later.''
“That's bullshit,'' Jack waved at Oscar. “I haven't thought about that bitch, ah...''
“Jack!'' Sondra yelled from the kitchen, about three rooms away.
“Sorry!'' Jack shouted back. He finished his drink and got up and fixed a stiffer one. He sat back down, turned to his friend and lowered his voice.
“Look, all I'm gonna do is give Djuana all the chance in the world to be my lady.''
Oscar shook his head. “No. Don't do it.''
Sondra broke in, fork in hand, “Just take your time, New. Maybe you should just see what her intentions are. Feel her out. Don't listen to this fool 'cause Vivian was definitely not the one for you.''
“Miss Wisdom has spoken,'' O sneered.
Jack and Sondra ignored Oscar.
“Just see what's up. Maybe date some other women in the meantime,'' Sondra said.
As she started to leave the room, she playfully popped Oscar in the head with the fork in her hand.
‘’Now, see if I hit her, she’ll have me on Maury Povich, and shit.’’
‘’You’re not classy enough to get on Maury,’’ Sondra laughed.
‘’Yeah, but your mother likes it!’’
Sondra reached down to hit him again with the fork, but Oscar pulled her onto the couch and kissed her.
“Now, don't burn the food like usual,'' Oscar said, pushing her up, “We’ve got company.’’
He patted her behind as she scurried away.
The man doesn't know how lucky he is, Jack thought. Jack turned his head up and emptied his glass to the shrunken ice cubes, and stood to fix another. He stumbled on his way to the bar Sondra set up. One day, he vowed, he too would have a wife to play with; a wife like Oscar has but doesn't appreciate. Then Djuana's enchanting smile appeared in his memory.
“I've found my wife,'' he mumbled with a smile.
Oscar, who was looking at the television, turned and looked over at Jack in bewilderment.
“Why don't you lay your drunk ass down until dinner is ready?'' Oscar said. “You alcoholic.''
Djuana was in the shower singing along with Heather Headley. Headley’s newest CD was a mellow stream of sad, slow ballads, but the songs combined with the hot water beading down Djuana's back to help ease her mind.
She heard the knock on the bathroom door, and decided to ignore it. She wasn’t ready to get out. When the intensity of the knock increased, she cursed the door. Her little brother finally busted in and announced she had a phone call.
“Tell whoever it is I am in the shower, please!” she angrily barked at him from behind the curtain.
“No can do,” Devon said, eyes closed and shaking his head. “It’s Jack Newhouse. And I think its time you two made up so I can get some more tickets.”
Djuana’s heart leaped. The thought of him calling at seven-thirty in the morning made her pulse race. “Move. Get outta here. Go tell him I’ll be right there, stupid!”
Devon grinned devilishly. “I thought you would hop to it.”
She pushed him out of the bathroom, hiding her wet body with a towel.
Djuana raced into her bedroom and picked up the phone, she heard Devon and Jack talking and abruptly cut in; telling her brother to hang up.
The first thing she said when Devon hung up was: “I thought you had dumped me.”
“No,” Jack’s voice was hoarse, and he was hung over. He had gotten up early to catch Djuana before she left for work. He popped two aspirin, and sipped water to chase them down.
“I told you I just needed time to think this over.”
“Have you?” Her heart was beating in her chest, and she was wetting the wooden floor. He still wants me, she could feel it.
“Yeah, I thought it over, all right. You are the only thing I have been thinking about since we met. Can you and Tia join me at team award ceremony this Saturday? We can talk then.”
Djuana almost yelled a yes. She calmed, then said, “I have to ask her, but I think we are free.”
Jack parked the Pathfinder in front of 657 and bolted out. He opened both passenger side doors and welcomed his guests. Djuana was lovely in the halter dress Jack picked out for her for the occasion. It was a stretch knit with a ballerina neckline and ended in full flare. She felt her belly looked bloated, but Jack loved the dress and she wore it to please him.
Tia was wearing a busty column dress with sparkled lace and spaghetti straps.
“You ladies look great,” Jack gushed.
They thanked him and Tia complimented him on his tuxedo with the African print bow tie and cumberbun. Djuana blushed and proudly proclaimed she had picked them.
LeClair’s was a quiet, casual spot in which to dine and hear great jazz. That night the Crowns had rented out the place to give achievement awards to deserving high school seniors in and around Portland. The students received awards, and some got scholarships. Their parents and the Crowns executives and players were the only ones in attendance that evening.
Jack sat the ladies at a table next to Sondra and Liela Cruz, Don's wife. He introduced all and went backstage where Honeywell was organizing the players. When it was Jack’s turn to present an award, Tia and Djuana cheered loudly, their clapping and shouting was the heartiest applause of the evening.
Djuana felt Liela's long stare. She tried not to cut her eyes at any of Jack's friends. She felt uneasy. Maybe she needed more makeup. Or, the dress. It’s the dress. I should have worn a maternity dress that’s why she's staring. Then, Liela smiled at Djuana and said, “Jack has spoken so much about you. He really likes you.''
Djuana warmed. She smiled and said the only thing that came to mind, “Thank you.''
Sondra added, “Jack mentioned that you work at DeLux's?''
Uh oh, Djuana thought. They know I’m piss poor.
“I like that store. I was just telling Liela how we needed to stop by there.''
“It's okay,'' Djuana said. She tapped Tia's thigh under the table. Tia looked away. She wanted no part of this conversation.
Tia was looking out across the sea of millionaires selecting the prime candidates to be hers. Sadly, to her, the best-looking member of the Crowns in her eyes, Cris Carpenter, was married. Still, she stared at him as much as she could, fighting boredom. His rich, dark skin and full lips were inviting.
The formalities lasted an hour and a half. Dinner was as quick. Most of the honored guests left after the last award was handed out, none of the Crowns did. At 11 p.m. the band heated up and the liquor moved quicker to the tables. Jack ordered Scotch for himself and virgin coladas for Djuana. “Make them extra fruity,” he demanded.
Djuana felt Jack staring and elbowed him. He would usually look at her often when they were together, and she liked that, but she was feeling so out of place among his teammates and their well-dressed women.
