In the middle of her telling us all about her favorite Disney Princess, Mulan, she looked at the clock and screeched. “Mom, I need to get ready for class at Justice.”
I had about half an hour before I had to start teaching. This go around, it was going to be much easier.
“Well go get ready, honey, and I will take you. And please, wash your face,” Linda said.
She took her dishes to the kitchen and went to her room. She tore out of the kitchen and down the hallway to her room. Her door slammed shut and Linda exhaled loudly.
From down the hall, we heard her call out, “Sorry!”
“She is a beautiful little girl, Linda. You’ve done a great job raising her,” Jett complimented.
“Thank you. She can be a handful at times, but I can’t imagine a day without her.” Linda turned to me and said, “Why are you here this morning, Kace?”
I knew the question was on her mind the entire morning, but speaking in front of Madeline would have been inappropriate, so she waited for a time when we were alone. I knew it was coming.
Taking advantage of Madeline’s absence, I sat back in my chair and said, “I wanted to thank you for coming to me last night. I didn’t handle your news well at first. It was all a bit of a shock. I needed to let it soak in, but after I let it soak in and after I gave myself some closure, I wanted to thank you. I’ve been walking around in this world so focused on my past sins that I never realized how you might be fairing. I was convinced I ruined you, convinced that I destroyed any chance of Madeline having a normal life, but I was wrong. You gave me the gift of opening my eyes yesterday, and I have to thank you for that.”
“I have to thank you as well,” Jett cut in. “Kace and I have been friends since grade school, and I know the man he can be. You brought him back, Linda. With your forgiveness, your grace, you brought my best friend back.”
Tears streamed down Linda’s face as she listened to us. You don’t need to thank me,” she replied. “You gave me hope, Kace. You gave me freedom and you protected Madeline in a way I never could have. You’re a blessing to our family, and I hope you will continue to make us a part of your life. Madeline is quite fond of you.”
“I would be honored,” I said, getting up and pulling Linda into another hug. “I’m quite fond of the both of you too.”
Jett was right; justice always prevailed.
Chapter Thirty Two
My present…
“Gahhh! Are you going to propose?” Goldie hopped up and down and clapped her hands together as I washed down the mats in the Haze Room after a long day of forgiveness, acceptance, and of course training Madeline and the other patrons of the community center.
There was one more thing I had to do, and it was going to be the hardest part of all. It was the one thing I was dreading but looking forward to the most, if that made sense.
“No, Goldie, I’m not proposing.”
“Why not?” She crossed her hands over her chest like a child.
“Because life doesn’t work like that.”
“Yes it does,” she countered. “Let’s go pick out a ring.”
“I asked you when Lyla worked, and you have me picking out a fucking ring? Don’t you see where you’re exaggerating here?”
Goldie thought about it for a second and then shook her head. “Nope, I think we’re on the right path.”
“Just tell me when the hell she’s working.”
“God, you’re no fun. All I’m asking is for a little proposal. It’s not like I’m asking for little Lyla and Kace babies, but oh my God, can we talk about how cute they would be? Ahhhh, you guys would make beautiful babies, all mocha skinned and pretty eyed. Hopefully they don’t get your temper though because holy hell, could you imagine five of you running around, moody as fuck?” Goldie used a little person voice and said, “Dada, I shit my pants. Whatcha gonna do about it?”
“There is something seriously wrong with you,” I said while getting up and taking the cleaning supplies back to the cabinet. The Haze Room was good to go. Now I just needed to shower and prepare for tonight. “So when does she work?”
“She’s on stage at nine,” Goldie finally admitted.
“Thank you,” I said while walking to the locker room and grabbing the duffel bag Diego had brought by for me since I had been too busy to stop at home.
“Does this have to do with that other woman who brings her daughter here?” Goldie asked, seeming nervous about my answer. “Is she a love child?”
“Ask your fiancé,” I responded, not in the mood to tell the nosey Goldie everything. Knowing her, she would ask a million questions, and I would never get out of here.
“Ugh, he doesn’t tell me anything when it comes to you.”
“Well, he has permission. Tell him that.”
Goldie chased after me. “Can you text him that? He wouldn’t believe me if I told him.”
“Maybe it’s because you lie too much,” I said, turning to face her.
“I do not! I just embellish things. It makes for a better story.”
“Say it how you want; it’s still lying.”
“Whatever,” she responded defiantly. “Can you just text him for me?”
“Why does it matter that much to you?” I asked, the bag slung over my shoulder.
“Because I’m nosey! I need to know what’s going on in everyone’s lives. Do me a solid and text Jett, then I won’t bother you anymore.”
“That’s a giant fucking lie, and you know it.” I laughed.
Goldie gave me with a questioning look, as if she was confused by the person standing in front of her.
“Umm, I’m sorry, did you just laugh?”
“I’m leaving.” I turned but heard Goldie clapping behind me.
“You laughed. It was all throaty and sexy too. Lyla is a lucky girl.”
“Drop it, Goldie,” I warned but with mirth in my voice.
I spent the next thirty minutes showering and getting dressed. Diego had packed a pair of my worn grey jeans, black chucks, black shirt, and black sock hat. The V-neck of the shirt showed off some of the muscles in my chest and for once in a long time, I actually appreciated the reflection in the mirror. For once, I was proud of the man who stood before me.
I drove over to Kitten’s Castle and parked the car on one of the back streets near the club since cars were blocked off at night from going down Bourbon Street.
Nerves settled in as I walked to Kitten’s Castle. In my head, Lyla would be happy to see me, but after I’d left her this morning without saying goodbye, I could see it being the last straw. There was only one way to find out.
As I approached the club, one of the girls was standing outside the door, calling to men who walked by to come and enjoy the atmosphere of the club. She wasn’t wearing a bra and had kitten-shaped pasties over her nipples. Her garter belt and thong kept her cool in the steamy night air, and her heels had scuffs near the bottom, letting me know the woman was struggling, like every other female working Bourbon Street.
“Hey, coming for a lap dance?” she asked as I approached.
I didn’t answer her as I walked past her through the door and into the darkly lit club. It was just dark enough so you couldn’t see what men were doing under the tables and so you couldn’t see the grime in the place. I kept my hands in my pockets and walked toward the stage, where acts were in the midst of a change. I checked my watch and saw it was nine. Lyla would be on any minute.
Quickly approuching the stage, I looked around before going behind the curtain. Cigarette smoke immediately smacked me in the face. Barely covered women walked around with their hair half done and their false eyelashes hardly attached to their eyelids. Lyla was by far superior to these women in every department.