Everything she lost, p.3
Everything She Lost, page 3
Dread welled up in Deja’s stomach at the memory of the nightmare that became her life after Grammy’s passing. Though hot water soaked her body, a cold sweat lined her forehead. Even a bath couldn’t drown the memories. Deja unplugged the drain. She toweled off, tossed on her nightgown, and went to her bedroom.
Though her tiny apartment lacked many amenities, she followed Grammy’s example and filled it with love for Miles. She’d have to figure out what was bothering him and find a way to fix whatever it was. She lowered herself onto her queen bed and reached into her drawer to get her headscarf. The letter her mother had given her a few months ago fell out. She picked it up and stared at her mom’s handwriting.
She’d resisted meeting up with her mom for over half a year, but her mom’s persistence eventually wore her down. Deja had been completely shocked when her mom called her. They hadn’t spoken since Deja ran away at fifteen years old.
Her mom claimed she had been clean and sober for two years, working the Alcoholics Anonymous steps, and now wanted to make amends to Deja, her only child. Deja had not so politely told her mom to lose her number and that she never wanted to hear from her again. But her mom kept calling.
Eventually, Deja agreed to meet up with her mom at a diner in downtown Oakland. Her only intention for the meeting was to tell her mom to stop contacting her for good. And she had certainly said that. But her mom’s genuine desire to make things better between the two of them surprised Deja. After Grammy’s death, Deja’d felt like a nuisance in her mom’s life. No matter what her mom said, Deja couldn’t get used to this new woman, who claimed she wanted to be a part of her daughter and grandchild’s life. Deja would never let that happen.
She reread her mom’s letter.
Dearest Deja,
I know words alone can’t make up for the pain and hurt I’ve caused you over the years. But I hope my actions can show you that I’ve changed and am sincere. I’m so sorry for my past behavior and will spend my life trying to make things right between us. Please, just give me a chance.
Love, Kim (Mom)
Deja wanted to tear the letter up the way she had Rodney’s stupid note, but for some reason, she folded it and returned it to the drawer. She couldn’t care less if her mom had stopped drinking and doubted it would last. She wanted nothing to do with that woman ever again and simply wanted to move on.
But there was still Kevin. She could never leave the past behind with him in the picture. She grabbed her phone and dialed him.
“I’m not changing my mind,” Kevin said after the first ring.
Deja hated how well he knew her. “Kevin, if you show up, you’ll ruin everything.”
“I could care less about the bougie fairy tale you’re living. We both know where you’re from and who you really are. That don’t change, and you won’t either. I’m getting what you owe me, one way or another.”
“All I’m saying is to give me a little more time.” Deja’s words tasted bitter. She hadn’t yet figured out how to repay Kevin, and part of her suspected that no matter what she gave him, he would never be satisfied. She hated having him hold her past over her.
“Time’s up.”
The call ended, and Deja braced herself for the hell that was to come.
CHAPTER FIVE
TUESDAY
“Don’t go!” Nina screamed.
“You’re dreaming, Nina,” Rodney said.
Nina sprang up to a seated position. Her heart raced, and she struggled to catch her breath. In the pitch-black room, her gaze found the clock’s glowing red numbers: 3:15.
“Same dream?” Rodney asked.
It took Nina a few seconds to fully emerge from her dream world. “Yeah.”
Rodney rubbed Nina’s back for a few seconds then rolled over with his back to her. “I have to get up early.”
“I know. Sorry, Rod.” Nina lay back down. She closed her eyes, but she wouldn’t be able to get back to sleep no matter how hard she tried... without assistance. So she waited.
Once Rodney’s breathing became deeper, she whispered his name.
He didn’t answer.
“Rod,” she said a little louder.
After he didn’t answer a second time, she eased the covers off and slid out of the bed. She envied how quickly he could fall into a deep sleep.
Her feet knew the way even in the dark, so she didn’t turn on any lights as she slipped into the walk-in closet. Sitting on the floor, she settled in between the hanging clothes, fumbling around before finding the shoebox. Her back pressed against the wall, and she removed the lid and picked up the glass bottle. Carefully, she brought it to her lips. A warm sensation filled her body when the Hennessey went down. Her eyes closed, and she fought to remember every detail from the dream.
She, Isaiah, and Damien had been running in a vast, empty field. Isaiah led the trio, and every so often, he would turn back to Nina and Damien and smile. As the sun set, brilliant colors filled the sky. They chased huge tumbleweeds. The wind blew, keeping them just out of reach. But then Isaiah sped up, and his back changed colors to match the sky.
“Don’t go,” Nina had pleaded. But he disappeared into the colors. When she turned to Damien, he had disappeared too.
The image of Isaiah’s wide brown eyes was imprinted in her mind.
As she sipped the cognac, she remembered when she, Isaiah, and Damien had become friends. Nina had been ten and Isaiah and Damien eleven when Damien had moved into the house a block over. At first, Damien just rode his bike around the block, slowing when he’d pass Nina and Isaiah’s house and looking longingly at whatever game they were playing. Nina and Isaiah would eye him suspiciously.
One hot summer day when they’d been playing in their Slip-n-Slide in the front yard, Isaiah waved Damien over. “You wanna play?”
Damien jumped off his bike and started to run to the Slip-N-Slide.
“Whoa, go change, or your parents will kill you for getting your clothes wet,” Isaiah said.
That started Isaiah taking on the older-brother role, even though Damien was actually three months older. Back then, Isaiah and Nina hadn’t known that Damien actually lived with his grandma. His mom was a single mom who worked sixty-plus hours a week, and his dad was addicted to crack and only came around the first of the month to ask for money. Nina and Isaiah had eventually learned this, and in exchange for the confidential information, they had revealed their mom’s “condition” to Damien as well.
“Be right back,” Damien had said.
When he returned five minutes later wearing pajama shorts, Nina and Isaiah had fallen on the ground laughing about it.
“I never go swimming,” he had said. “So I don’t have swim trunks.” The three became fast friends from that day forward.
Nina guzzled one last swig of alcohol and sighed. With her head sufficiently woozy, she twisted the cap back onto the bottle and returned it to the box. Though Rodney had never caught her drinking, she still grabbed a mint tucked into the corner of the box and plopped it into her mouth. She crept back into bed and closed her eyes, willing the dream to come back, even though Isaiah wouldn’t.
WHEN NINA OPENED HER eyes again, it was still pitch black, but Rodney no longer occupied the other half of the bed. It had to be morning, though they kept the room dark with heavy blackout curtains. Rodney joked that the curtains blocked the sex life out of the room, but she liked them. They helped her sleep, and these days, she could use anything to help her sleep. It had priority over sex—for her at least.
She reached for her phone and answered a good-morning text from her dad. With a huff, she forced herself out of bed. Light filled the rest of the house. Sheets of rain fell outside the kitchen’s bay window. After starting the coffee, she swallowed her medication and checked her notebook.
1) Arrange dinner for Rod
2) Get groceries – NO JUNK FOOD
3) Call Shivani
4) Make transfer
She’d call Shivani first. Nina used to pride herself on her intelligence and success as a software engineer. After all, she’d invested everything in her education and career. These days, her mind didn’t feel quite as sharp as it used to, but sitting around the house all day feeling sorry for herself only kept the blade dull. Work would definitely help her get back to where she needed to be. Maybe. Hopefully.
Shivani answered on the first ring. “Nina, it was a surprise seeing your number. How’s everything?”
“Everything’s great.” Nina hoped she didn’t sound overly enthusiastic. “Would you have time to meet today? To check in and talk about work?”
Shivani took a little too long to answer. “Sure. How’s noon at the French bistro down the street from the office?”
“Perfect. Thanks, Shivani.” Nina hung up and squealed.
She opened the door to the walk-in closet. Her business clothes hung in the far corner, neglected the past several months. She rummaged through the clothes then selected her favorite navy skirt-suit—the go-to outfit that always made her feel confident and capable. She’d also read somewhere that navy was the best color for job interviews.
She grabbed an unopened box of nylons she’d purchased at Nordstrom months ago then laid the outfit on her bed. After struggling with the nylons, she slipped into the skirt, but it got stuck at her thighs. She tugged and squirmed, but it wouldn’t go.
Ever since she’d started the medication, she’d gained weight. In spite of her gym visits, an extra fifteen pounds had made a home on her body the way birds make a nest, and fat clung uncomfortably to her thighs, forearms, and stomach. It hadn’t even crossed her mind that her clothes wouldn’t fit. But of course they wouldn’t. Nothing fit these days. She slumped onto the bed, ready to just skip the meeting.
“No, you’re not going to do this.” She stood. Self-pity wouldn’t make her healthy. With her recent memory lapses, she needed to do something to get her mind sharp and in good form again. Sure, she didn’t feel mentally back to one hundred percent, but sitting around the house all day wouldn’t help her get there either.
She returned to the closet, sorting through the clothes until she found a tan dress she’d bought after having Laila. She’d always meant to throw it out because it was two sizes too big, but now she was glad she hadn’t. Tossing it over her head, she didn’t even want to see her reflection in the mirror. She hurried to the kitchen to make a small breakfast before her meeting.
CHAPTER SIX
Deja scrolled through an entertainment blog in her tiny office. Aside from her cluttered white computer desk and chair and two ivory seats for clients, the office was bare, but she kept promising Raquel she would decorate. She started when her office intercom beeped. She straightened in her chair and shut down the gossip website. “Yes.”
“A man’s on line two for you. He wouldn’t say his name but said it’s important,” Maggie said.
Deja’s pulse raced. She’d slept restlessly after talking with Kevin, scared of what he would do next. It must be him now, letting her know he had found out where she worked. She’d tried so hard to leave Kevin and all the drama behind in the East Bay. Him showing up would ruin everything, as usual.
“Transfer him.” Deja could barely make the words come out.
“Ms. Vu, it’s Gary Thompson.”
Deja closed her eyes, breathed a little easier, and cleared her throat. Gary Thompson was the last person on her mind, but she definitely would prefer to hear from him over Kevin any day. Raquel desperately wanted to take her business to the next level with corporate events and ditch weddings altogether, so Deja would have to get herself together.
“How are you Mr. Thompson? Was everything satisfactory with the wedding?”
“Actually, that’s what I am calling about.”
Deja’s heart stalled. If the call were to complain, Raquel would be furious. “Oh, really?”
“Yes. And it’s Gary. I was so impressed with the wedding’s execution, I wanted to set an appointment to talk with you about possibly partnering with your company in the future. How is Friday at eleven in my office?”
Raquel had mentioned that Thompson had office space in the most expensive building in downtown San Jose. Deja’d never imagined she’d end up doing business there. She clicked on her calendar, which had several appointments with brides-to-be that would all need to be rescheduled. “Friday at eleven is perfect.”
“Good. I am certainly looking forward to seeing you again.”
After Thompson hung up, Deja ran to Raquel’s office, slamming open the door.
Raquel glanced up from a stack of documents and raised her eyebrows. “Deja?”
Deja’s smile covered her face, but she couldn’t hide her happiness even if she wanted to. “Gary Thompson called. We have an appointment at his office on Friday!”
Raquel stood, her face lighting up. “This could change everything. Everything I’ve worked my ass off for the past ten years could actually happen. I knew hiring you was a good move.”
“For both of us.” Though Deja’d had absolutely no experience working in an office or as an assistant when she’d been hired, she had a way of knowing what people wanted and how to give it to them. She’d read Raquel like a book during the interview. Raquel’s business was her baby, and she needed someone as dedicated to growing it as she was. So that was exactly what Deja had told her, that she was an excellent personal assistant and would help take Raquel’s business to the next level. Deja sighed and dropped her gaze to her worn navy slacks.
“What’s wrong?” Raquel asked.
“It’s just that I wore my best outfit to the wedding. What should I wear when we see him?” Deja picked at her bland black blouse. “We need to dress our best, and payday isn’t for over a week.”
Raquel didn’t skip a beat. “You’re right. Let’s go buy a new outfit. I’ll just expense it out.”
Deja held in a cheer. “Really?”
“I’ll do anything to make sure Friday’s meeting is perfect. Let me wrap up what I’m doing, and I’ll meet you outside.”
Deja sauntered back to her office. A few hours off from work and a new outfit made a boring Tuesday one hell of a day. Now, Raquel needed to carry out her part of the deal and get Thompson to sign the contract. Maybe it’d lead to a raise that would allow her to pay off her debt to Kevin incrementally, which would keep him at bay and close the chapter she needed permanently behind her.
DEJA CHEWED ON HER pen, forcing her eyes to stay open while she reviewed a bride’s furniture rental order. After shopping, Raquel had treated Deja to a big brunch, and now, all Deja needed was a nap.
Maggie’s voice rang over the intercom. “Call for you on line two.”
Deja picked up the handset. “Deja Johnson. How may I help you?”
“You sound so sophisticated when you’re at work. I like it.” It was Rodney.
“I told you not to call me here,” Deja said in her sternest voice.
“Come on. I wanted to hear your voice.” Rodney’s voice was pathetic and whiny.
Deja kept her voice low. “I told you it’s over, and I’m at work. You know I can’t take personal calls.”
“I have to see you. I’m outside your office. I can come in if—”
Shit. “Fine, I’ll meet you at the coffee shop around the corner in ten.” The last thing she needed was Rodney showing up. When Raquel had hired her, she’d made it clear that personal drama was to be kept out of the office.
Deja chugged the remaining liquid in her water bottle then hurried to the reception area and refilled it from the cooler. “Did you happen to get the name of that person who just called?” she asked nonchalantly, hoping Maggie didn’t realize it wasn’t a client.
“No, he asked directly for you.” Maggie didn’t take her fingers off her keyboard. “I assumed it was a personal call.”
“Oh, no. Just someone I gave my card to at a wedding we did a few months ago. He has an upcoming event he wanted to discuss.” Relieved that he hadn’t given his name, Deja headed back to her office.
“Sure.” Maggie peered at her with raised eyebrows.
Deja froze. “What’s that?”
“I said, sure. Did he happen to mention he wanted to discuss these plans in person... over drinks?” Maggie raised an eyebrow. “You have that effect on men, Deja. They fall in love you with at first sight. Gary Thompson didn’t even wait twenty-four hours to call.”
“Stop it.” Deja laughed nervously. Too close.
“Haven’t you noticed that Raquel keeps you at least fifty feet from the grooms at all times?” Maggie continued. “Last thing we need is one of them canceling the wedding and the bride demanding her money back over you.”
“You really need to stop,” Deja said. “Get back to work. I’m going to grab a coffee. Want anything?”
“No, thanks. I can’t drink coffee. Won’t be able to sleep.” Though only in her late forties, Maggie looked and acted much older. She’d never married or had children—maybe since she wasn’t exactly what people would call attractive. She had lifeless blond hair cut in a short bob, a face wrinkled from too much sun, and a rail-thin figure. Deja’d initially wondered if she was a lesbian but now thought she was an asexual type. It didn’t matter. It wasn’t Deja’s business. All that mattered was that Maggie had a good work ethic and helped the small company tremendously.
Deja grabbed her umbrella from her office then returned to the reception area.
“What I say is true,” Maggie said as Deja walked out. “If only we all could be so young and so lucky.”
“Lucky.” Deja almost laughed.
Raindrops pummeled the umbrella’s surface on her walk to the coffee shop. Deja tried not to inhale exhaust car spew as they drove by. Street lamps illuminated the gray-cloud-darkened wet streets. Deja loved the rain and winter. It was cold, gloomy, and damp, just like her life. Her black boots struck the pavement, and she jumped as a passing car beeped its horn at her.
