“Are you Cherelle Byrd?”
“Who wants to know?” asked Cherelle, not volunteering any information.
“I’m Viola Richards, Quadir’s mother. I’m looking for Cherelle Byrd.”
“Oh, my God, come in, please. I’m so sorry, I didn’t know who you were.”
Cherelle opened the screen door for Viola and welcomed her into her first-floor row home apartment. She only had one bedroom for her and Quanda to share, but her apartment was clean, Quanda was clean, and it was clear that Cherelle did the best that she could do for herself and her daughter. She had a sofa and a chair and one floor lamp facing a twenty-eight-inch television sitting on a stand, a small kitchen, an even smaller dinette set, a bathroom, and a bedroom.
“I found your name and address among Quadir’s personal things. I tried calling but the number was disconnected.”
“I’m glad; I’m glad you came by here,” said Cherelle, all smiles, feeling a sense of acceptance for herself and her daughter from Viola. She had yearned to be accepted ever since the birth of her daughter, not only by Quadir, but by his family as well.
“Look, Quanda; look who’s here to see you,” said Cherelle, introducing Quanda to her grandmother.
“Hi, baby, let me take a good look at you,” and Viola meant that shit in every sense of the word.
“This is your grandmom,” said Cherelle.
Viola looked piercingly at Cherelle, not appreciating one bit being introduced as the child’s grandmother. That fact remains to be proven. But the more she looked at the child, the more she saw her own son when he was just a toddler.
“I’m not Grandmom; I’m Granny. You call me Granny, okay?” she said, embracing the little girl as she picked her up and placed her on her lap. “Granny is going to take you shopping and buy you all kinds of toys and clothes, and you and I are going to go to church, how’s that?”
Viola looked up and saw a big smile on Cherelle’s face. From that point on, there was a bond and a relationship between the two women. Cherelle got exactly what she had always hoped for-Quadir’s family’s acceptance for her daughter-and Viola got what she wasn’t expecting, a granddaughter. By the time Viola was done, she had made up her mind that her grandbaby would never want for anything. From that day forth, if Cherelle needed something, the Richards family had her back.
Quadir smiled as he thought of his mother, Cherelle, and his daughter spending Sunday mornings at church together. He thought of Gena, and the happy smile on his face slowly faded. He could see her now, absolutely disgusted. He could hear her, too.
“Are you crazy? You let your mother throw me to the fucking wolves, while she does everything in her power to make sure Cherelle and your baby are hunky fucking dory?”
Yup, that’s about how it would sound. He had decided that just as with Gena, he would have to take care of Cherelle also, once he got his money back. And, of course, Amelia. Gena and Cherelle would both be fine as long as they didn’t try to live like rap stars. A million dollars was enough to buy a decent house and car. They would have enough to pay their bills, and Gena could even finish school. She could make a nice life for herself. With a million dollars, Gena could even look out for her grandmother and the rest of her family. God knows, she wouldn’t have to work. And just to show how decent he was, he’d put up a million, just in case she needed more at a later date. Maybe ten or twenty years from now, he would shoot her a second mil ticket. That should definitely hold her.
Amelia breezed through the front door.
“Hey.”
“Hey yourself!” she said, tossing her keys onto a Bombay chest in the foyer. She sat her briefcase down next to it, strolled into the living room, and kissed Quadir on his cheek. “Whatcha doing?”
Quadir shook his head.
“Why so glum?” she asked.
“Just doing some thinking.”
“About?”
“Money, Gena, all of that stuff.”
“You seem to never stop thinking about her. Actually, it seems as though she’s the only thing you ever do think of.”
Quadir peered up. “How do you figure?”
“Oh, Quadir, please. It’s true.”
Quadir looked away. He wasn’t quite sure what he was supposed to say. In a way, Amelia was right. She was all he thought of, her and his money. He often wondered whether, if she didn’t have his money, he would ever have thoughts of her.
“You know I didn’t tell you this, but remember the night you brought Gena here? Well, when I examined her, I realized that she had suffered a miscarriage.”
“She was… pregnant.”
“Yeah, she lost the baby, though. I guess Jerrell beat her so bad, she lost it.”
Silence fell and a look of despair fell upon Quadir’s face.
“Are you okay?” Amelia asked.
The last thing he wanted to hear was that Gena had been pregnant by Jerrell.
“I said are you okay?” Amelia asked again, realizing for the first time just how deep his concentration was set in Gena mode.
He still loves her. Amelia realized the truth of the matter. She had never thought in a million years that hearing Gena had a miscarriage would even remotely affect him. She honestly thought that his hearing that piece of information would drive him further away from her, and he’d let it go, let her go, even let the money go. However, his reaction indicated that he wasn’t about to let anything go.
“Quadir, I can’t do this anymore,” said Amelia in almost a hushed tone.
“Can’t do what?”
“I can’t pretend. Maybe you can, but I can’t.”
“Amelia, what are you talking about?”
“I’m talking about you, me, you and me. It’s nothing, it’s just make pretend. You pretend to have feelings for me that you just don’t have, and I sit here and pretend that maybe, just maybe you’ll forget about her, and love me. But the truth is you won’t, and I’m tired of pretending that maybe you will.”
“Are you saying that I’m in love with Gena?”
“I don’t have to say it. Why does anyone have to say it? I mean, my God, it’s written all over your face,” said Amelia. “She needs you, Quadir.”
“Doc, I don’t understand.”
“That’s your problem, Quadir. You always want to try to figure things out, you always want to try to dissect, to label, to understand and rationalize. Some things are not meant to be understood. Some things are, because they just are. You love her, she loves you, and right now, she needs you more than ever.”
“And what about us?”
“What about us?” Amelia asked with a smile on her face. “Maybe we are meant to be together, maybe we aren’t, maybe it’s just… bad timing, maybe in another life. I don’t know. But, I know this; you need to help her. You are the only one who can.”
“Yeah, but…”
“But nothing, Quadir. I’m here, you know, and besides, you don’t stop loving someone, Quadir. In fact, if it’s true love, it never really ends. It changes, it grows deeper, more profound, it morphs into different manifestations, but it’s always there. True love lasts through time and space and distance.” Amelia paused for a moment, hearing her own words as a tear whelped in her eye. “She loved you, even when you were on the other side. You think that I’ll stop loving you, just because you are across the country?”
“I thought that we were going to go across the country together.”
“Sometimes, people are meant to travel this life together for great distances, sometimes short ones.”
“And you and me?”
“Who said that our journey together is over? Who knows what the future holds for us, Quadir? But right now, what we do know is that Gena needs you.”
“And you don’t need me?” Quadir looked down.
“No, I don’t need you,” Amelia said, knowing that deep, deep, down inside she wished, dreamed, and even prayed for Quadir to be for her. However, no matter how much she prayed and wished on one hundred four-leaf clovers, he wasn’t. And she knew in her heart that she deserved better. She deserved someone for her, someone who would be just for her.