Lessons From A Younger Lover. Zuri Day
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fifty-five. But whatever the title, the results are the same—a long-term decline in cognitive function.”
“Just be glad she’s still here,” Chantay replied. “You can always hug her, whether she knows you or not.”
“Oh, she recognizes everybody, and remembers more than she lets on, I’m thinking. But I hear what you’re saying, Chantay, and I’m grateful.”
They were silent a moment before Chantay changed the subject. “Joe’s a lowlife. He could have stayed in the condo and split the rent with the fool he’s sleeping with until somebody bought it. He’s just an asshole.”
“That would have been too much like right. But it is what it is. Don’t get me re-pissed about it.”
Chantay started humming “Oh Sheila.” “Wouldn’t it be ironic if you moved back to town and snagged its star player after all these years? Now, we’ll have to give your dated butt a makeover, but by the time I’m done with you…you’ll move over all those other silicone-stuffed heifas in town.”
“I wonder who else from our class still lives there.”
“Girl, it don’t even matter. Keep your eye on the prize.” Chantay shot another sideways look at her friend. “Um-hmm. If it’s Adam Johnson you want—trust, I can help you get him.”
Gwen had thought about Adam, and what a nice balm he might be for the hurt Joe had caused her. Not that she’d get into anything serious right away. It would be months before the divorce came up on the backlogged Illinois court docket and was finalized. But since speaking to Adam, she’d fantasized a time or two about the heartthrob she remembered: tall, lanky, chocolate, strong, with bedroom eyes and a Jheri curl that brushed his shoulders. She never dreamed she’d get another chance with someone like Adam. But as she’d learned all too painfully in the past few months—life was full of surprises.
2
Ransom Noel Blake stretched six feet and three inches of caramel sweetness out on a canvas lounge chair, covered only by a loose-fitting pair of white swim trunks. His coal black hair, which unbound neared his waist, was pulled back in a loose ponytail, providing an unobstructed view of his thick, naturally arched eyebrows, Iroquoian cheekbones, tapered nose, and cupid-shaped lips. He reached up to flick an annoying insect away from his face, and his perfectly cut abdomen rippled with the movement. It was ninety-five degrees and climbing in the desert, but not only did Ransom have a high tolerance level for the sun’s baking rays, he was also, quite simply, too tired to care.
But he was pleased. His firm, Blake Construction, had come in on time and under budget on their latest project. This fact was all the more satisfying because of how his half brother, Adam, had tried to thwart his bid and when that failed, to throw wrenches in their progress at every turn. But Ransom’s crew was smart and their boss was smarter. When the first recess bell rang for the children of Sienna Elementary School’s new school year, they’d run out and play on a brand new, state-of-the-art playground or in an equally impressive indoor gym and game center, courtesy of Ransom and company.
The melodic tone from his iPhone interrupted Ransom’s musings. He reached for it lazily. “Blake.”
“You’re probably not expecting congratulations from me.”
“Adam.”
“I know I was a pain in the ass sometimes, but the job looks great.”
Ransom opened his eyes and sat up in the chair. “Okay, brother, what do you want?”
Adam chuckled. “Why does it have to be like that?”
“It doesn’t, but that’s how it is.”
Adam couldn’t deny that his half brother was right. Fifteen years his junior, Ransom had attributes Adam no longer possessed, if he ever did. He’d left for college when Ransom was a toddler, and they’d never developed a close relationship. Add to that what Adam viewed as preferential treatment of Ransom by their mother, Ransom’s small yet successful business and easy way with women, and Adam’s competitiveness—and there was little room left for brotherly love.
“Okay, little brother, I was calling for a favor,” Adam admitted.
“Uh-huh.”
“I was wondering if I could handle the Porsche for a couple of days.”
“What’s wrong with your car?”
“Nothing. I’m just, you know, wanting to impress a certain female.”
Ransom suppressed a sigh as he eased off the lounge chair and down the steps of his backyard pool. He immersed himself to the waist before answering.
“And what are you going to do when this certain female finds out it’s not your car?”
“I’m trying to fuck the girl, Ransom, not marry her!”
“I hope you’re as clear about that with her as you are with me.”
“Look, don’t try to school me in lessons of love. I could teach an advanced study course on the subject, know what I’m sayin’?”
No, and probably neither does your ex-wife.
“Daddy, Daddy!”
Ransom looked up as his daughter ran toward him. His heart burst with joy, as it always did at the sight of his princess. “Look, man, I gotta go.”
“Okay, then. But can I use the ride?”
“Sure, Adam. You can keep it until I get back from Vegas. I’m leaving in a few days and will be gone about a week.”
“Perfect! Thanks, bro.”
Ransom’s daughter, Isis, ran to the edge of the pool. “Look, Daddy. Miss Carol bought us all bracelets. Aren’t they cute, Daddy?” She showed off a colorful plastic bangle jangling on her tiny wrist.
“Beautiful, baby girl. Almost as beautiful as you.”
Isis beamed, even as she covered her face. “Daddy!”
“I hope you don’t mind, Ransom. They were on sale so I bought one for all the girls. Umm, that looks inviting.”
Ransom looked up at his daughter’s playmate’s mom, Carol Connors, and wondered if she were talking about the pool or the person in it.
“I don’t have my swimsuit but if you don’t mind skinny-dipping…”
He had his answer. “Thanks again, Carol,” he said as he eased himself out of the water and reached for the towel that was draped on the lounge chair. “I really appreciate your help with Isis, especially with me going out of town.”
“It’s no problem. She and Kari are like sisters.” Carol dropped her voice an octave. “Now there’s an idea.”
Ransom thought Carol couldn’t be more obvious if she tattooed “available” on her forehead. But he couldn’t blame her for trying: an educated, single mother, in a town where women outnumbered men. A woman had to do what she had to do.
“I’ll call you in a couple days when I need to drop off Isis.”
“Hey, I’ve got steaks if you want to fire up the—”
“Thanks, Carol, but I’m going to pass tonight. It’s been a long day and I’m beat.” Ransom reached for Isis’s hand and they headed for the back door of his three-bedroom, contemporized ranch-style home. “I’ll see you in a few days.”
It was a couple hours before Ransom stretched out again, this time across his king-sized, four-poster mahogany bed. But first he’d fixed Isis a simple supper of fish sticks, fries, and cole slaw; washed her long, curly hair; cleaned the kitchen; put in a load of clothes; and read her a bedtime story. Being the single father of a rambunctious, energetic six-year-old was hard work, but it was worth it.
Ransom turned on his back and stared