Grandmama put the gravy into a dish and set it on a trivet next the plate of sausage and biscuits on the bar. Giving me a hug, she said, “Morning. How’d you sleep?”
I sat on the barstool and fixed myself a plate. “Horrible. I’m sorry I came here so late without calling. I needed to be here, where it feels like home.”
My parents had lived in China for the past five years. Dad had gotten a huge promotion to run the Asian branch of the sales company he’d been with for twenty years. The decision for them had been swift and, within weeks, my childhood home and everything I’d ever known had been gone. That’s when I’d moved from Arkansas to Georgia to be closer to Grandmama. When he had time, I talked to my dad about once a month. Though, our conversations usually lasted only a few minutes before we were interrupted and my father had to leave for business.
Interaction with my mom was even rarer. I tried to feel fortunate that I still got to see them twice a year, usually for a couple of days before they’d takeoff on a small vacation for themselves. Whether they were plugged into my life or not, it was hard being away from my family.
One nice thing about being self-employed as a Strategic Analyst was that it allowed me to work from home. Companies would hire me to review their sales numbers, trends, and problematic areas—I’d then help them develop a strategy to increase productivity for items trending down. My business was growing, and I was pleased at the success I’d achieved on my own. Since the break-up, I’d thrown myself into my work. If I worked, I could almost ignore my loneliness. I missed Brandt, though. I missed us.
Grandmama sat on a little stool in front of me. That side of the bar had cabinets, but Grandmama liked to look at each other when we talked. She’d always done that, even when the kitchen was filled with the entire family. “This is your place too. You come here anytime you want. You know I love having you.”
I pushed a piece of sausage around on my plate. “I saw Brandt last night. He was at the same bar as me.”
That got Grandmama’s attention. She stopped eating. “Are you okay? Did he go back to drugs?”
Of course, Grandmama knew everything that had happened with Brandt and me.
“I’m okay. Brandt looked good. He looked like he did the first time I saw him, actually, at that concert where we met. Seeing him last night, though—it awoke so many emotions in me. Wesley arrived right when this happened, so I left without giving Brandt a chance to speak.”
“Did he know you were there?” Concern was evident in my grandmother’s voice.
I shook my head. “I don’t think so. He looked just as startled as I felt. I was about to ask how he was doing when a girl came up and draped herself all over him. Seeing it gutted me.” I took a breath and wiped a tear from my eye.
Grandmama took a sip of her orange juice. The New Year had started with a bang. I wished there was a redo button. “Do you think he’s with someone else?”
The thought of him dating someone else bothered me. After seeing him last night, there was a part of me that still felt as if I had a claim on him. I was too scared to face the reality that he’d moved on. A part of me hoped that he’d reach out to me when he got healthy and clean, but he hadn’t.
“He said it wasn’t what it seemed. But I’ve heard that line so many times—and it was usually a lie. I honestly can’t be sure. I’m so confused.” I took a deep breath as all the confusion bubbled to the surface. “Maybe talking to him would give me closure. But I don’t think I want it to be really be over. What should do?”
She scrunched her brow and took another sip of juice. “I don’t know, Nikola. Only you can decide which path you should be on. Sometimes we want what’s bad for us and we should stay away. But sometimes, it’s truly the path we were meant to be on. It can take a lot of work to pull all the weeds to see what’s really beneath the surface.”
This conversation wasn’t helping much. “He may not even have feelings for me.”
“Will you contact him?” I loved the soothing tone in her voice.
I wanted to call him, but I feared what I’d find behind that door. “I haven’t decided.”
We ate for a few minutes, and I tried to single out a single thought from the mess running through my mind.
“What if he comes and seeks you out?”
Excitement lit inside of me at the thought of being near him again, but thinking I might hurt his recovery dampened that feeling. I always wondered if I was part of the trigger that had sent Brandt toward drugs. Deep down, I knew this was one of the reasons I’d never tried to reconnect. Brandt’s wellbeing came first—before my broken heart.
“There’s still a lot unanswered questions. I want to talk, but I’ll have to see.”
“I think that’s a wise decision. Are you still up for cooking our traditional black-eyed peas and collards dinner today?”
Grateful for the subject change, I got up and kissed her on the cheek. She smelled like the cream she used religiously, night and day. It was subtle and sweet.
“Of course I am. I wouldn’t miss it for the world! I’m going to take a shower-bath, then I’ll be ready.”
Shower-bath was a term my dad had coined when I was a kid before work had consumed him and he became uninvolved in my life. He would announce it every time before he went to get ready. The whole thing was silly, since it was a contradictory term, but it had become part of our family’s vocabulary.
Grandmama chuckled, then coughed heavily. She’d been doing that a lot lately. I went to her side.
“Maybe you should have that checked out. It seems it’s getting worse.”
She patted my hand as she stopped coughing. “It’s just a winter cold.”
“I’ll make you an appointment.”
“Okay, Nikola.”
Grandmama hated going to the doctors since Granddaddy had passed. I kissed her cheek, then headed for the shower.
In the bathroom across the hall from my bedroom, I turned on the shower. I stared in the mirror as steam formed a cloudy layer on the surface. Brandt was in the forefront of my mind. My hair lay tumbled around my face while I stared into my reflection. My eyes looked tired, and I sighed wearily. As though it had clouded out the present, when the last of the steam covered the mirror, I thought back to the last night we’d spent at our home before I’d left him.
A client had flown in from New York to go over my plan to market their new microfiber cloth. I had a major rebranding strategy to share that would hopefully solve their problems. However, the meeting had gone later than I intended.
Walking up to our front door, I took a deep breath. I opened the door not knowing what was going to be on the other side. Brandt and I had been together for three years. Almost a year ago, we’d decided to move in together. And until three months ago, we’d been madly in love. He was my soul mate. My heart. My world. But he’d been changing, distancing himself from me.
At first, the change in Brandt had been sporadic—like every other week. From there, the frequency of the mood swings increased. Most times, it’d be early morning and I’d be dead asleep. Brandt would come in noisily, hours after leaving his club, feeling like a million bucks and ready to conquer the world. He’d be vivacious and ready to go on crazy adventures that didn’t even make sense. In Brandt’s mind, he was invincible.
In the last two or three weeks, irritation and paranoia had replaced his chemically-induced highs. He was a Ping-Pong ball of emotions. I never knew what to expect, and the man I’d fallen in love with had become a shadow.
I knew that something was off the moment he snorted his first line. It took me two months to find the proof of the white powder. One morning, I was doing the laundry, and I found a little white bag of cocaine in his pants pocket. When confronted, Brandt told me that it wasn’t what I thought. He’d found it on some guy at the club and planned to flush it. I offered to do it, but Brandt snatched it from me and went to the bathroom himself. The toilet sounded, but when he came out he was high, acting like nothing was wrong
.
I thought my love for him was strong enough to see him through this phase.
I was wrong.
When Brandt was high and we slept together, he never cared if I had an orgasm or not. That wasn’t the Brandt I knew. The Brandt I knew always put me first. Honestly, I wasn’t sure who the real Brandt was anymore. Pots and pans clanked around in the kitchen as I quietly shut the door behind me. I thought maybe I should turn and leave, go see Grandmama for the night instead. Lately, I’d been staying at her house eighty percent of the time.
“Damn it all to hell! Where is it?” Brandt yelled from the kitchen. I stopped in my tracks. He was agitated. “Where’s the fucking cash? I know it’s here somewhere. Fucking Adam and his…salary…all corporate bullshit…bastard…I need the money.”
At least now I knew why Brandt had been running low on money lately; Adam had changed the way they were paid. I turned back toward the front door when he came barreling across the house. Brandt stopped when he saw me. “Hey, how was your day? Did the lawyer meeting with your Grandmama go well?”
My smile faded. That meeting had been two days ago. Brandt looked as if he hadn’t slept in three days. That’s how long it had been since I’d been home. It was best not to contradict him. “Yeah, it went good. I’m going to grab a couple of things and go see her. Do you want me to order you some dinner before I go?”
Glancing at his palms, I confirmed his coke craving. His fingers were scratching at his palms and his arms were twitching, as if he wasn’t comfortable in his skin. Thanks to the Internet, I’d gotten an education on drug addiction. Specifically, cocaine addiction.
“I left my wallet at the club. Can you spot me a hundred or so? I’ll order it myself. That way you don’t have to keep Grandmama waiting.” His tongue started raking across his gums—another sign he needed a hit.
Glancing at the coffee table, I saw his wallet sprawled open, a couple of twenties peeking out. I needed to get out of here. Even though he’d never raised a hand to me, I knew he was losing touch with reality.
“Okay, let me see what I’ve got.”