In My Rearview Mirror Page 2

  “Enough, Winter,” Jefferson said, staring back as hard as Winter was staring at him. “There may be some wisdom in what you’re saying, but I didn’t ask for your assessment of your mother’s and my situation. It is what it is.” Jefferson sighed. “Why don’t we go see your brothers now? I have to leave in a moment.”

  Winter grabbed Jefferson around the waist and steered him toward the stairs.

  Jefferson stopped, then looked down at his daughter. He kissed Winter on the top of her head that was full of braids and squeezed her. “I love you, baby.”

  “I love you too, Daddy.”

  The duo walked up the stairs in silence, each holding the other around the waist. They stopped at the entrance to the nursery and listened as Margo sang a lullaby to Ian and Evan and then ensured her boys they would be all right in this world. When Jefferson and Winter looked in, Margo was rocking the boys in her rocking chair. She looked up when they stepped through the doorway. Margo waved them in with her head and started her lullaby again.

  Jefferson came and stood over Margo and stared at the baby boys. They were too young for him to ascertain any real resemblance to himself, but he smiled at Margo lovingly. “Cute. Reminds me of when Ivy was a baby,” Jefferson said. “You rocked her the same way and sang the very same lullaby. Your boys are beautiful.”

  Margo lifted her head and smiled. “I remember. In fact, all of our children were blessed to have their mother sing them this lullaby. Have you spoken to Ivy?”

  “Nope, not a word. I thought since she and J.R. were so close, she’d be in contact with him.”

  “Did Mom look like this when she had Winston and me?” Winter asked Jefferson, interrupting her parents’ banter about Ivy.

  “A carbon copy, except you were a girl.”

  Jefferson and Winter watched a few moments longer until Margo stopped rocking and moved to get up. Winter rushed over and took one baby out of Margo’s arm.

  “Who is this?” Winter asked.

  “That’s Evan. He has a birthmark on his leg like . . .” Margo paused as if reconsidering what she was about to say.

  “Like what?” Winter asked, giving Evan a kiss on the nose.

  “Like I do?” Jefferson asked, trying to make direct eye contact with Margo.

  Margo wouldn’t look at him. In fact, she held Ian tight in her arms and didn’t respond.

  “I hear Malik is running for public office in Fayetteville,” Jefferson said, diverting the conversation. Margo’s head jerked upon hearing Malik’s name. “My frats said they heard he was getting engaged to some young chick, but she must be a big secret. Malik hasn’t introduced her publically, let alone been seen with a woman.”

  Margo was silent for more than a minute before she finally spoke. “It’s probably best for his career that he has a woman who will stand behind him to give him the support he’ll need during a campaign. I guess congratulations are in order.”

  “Well, hopefully he’s scrubbed the skeletons from his closet,” Jefferson said, looking at Margo. “The Edwards scandal is more than North Carolina can handle as far as scandals go.”

  “Daddy, what are you talking about? You aren’t making any sense. What does that have to do with Malik?”

  “I’d like to know, too,” Margo said, her eyes piercing through Jefferson’s.

  “It’s time for me to go.”

  Margo stood up. “No need to rush off, Jefferson,” Margo said, advancing toward him with Ian cupped in her arms. “Stay a minute. After all, it’s been awhile since I’ve seen you. How’s J.R. doing?”

  Jefferson looked between Margo and Winter before looking at the bundle of joy Margo caressed tight to her bosom. “I only have a minute . . . and J.R. is doing well.”

  “Tell him he needs to come by and see his mother,” Margo said, taking her eyes away from Jefferson’s after lingering a little too long.

  “I will. I guess you know that Winston is going to join J.R. and me in the business.”

  “Yes, I’ve heard. You’ll have to rename your business Father and Son’s Media Connection, although I like The Web Connection. It has a nice ring to it.”

  Jefferson smiled. Before anyone could react, he took Ian out of Margo’s arms. Bulging eyes protruded from both Margo and Winter. And they smiled.

  “Daddy, you look natural holding that baby,” Winter teased.

  Jefferson handed Ian back to Margo. They made eye contact, and Jefferson turned toward the door. “I’ve got to go. I have an appointment with a client in twenty minutes.” He took a liberty and swallowed Margo up with his eyes. “You look good, Margo; you really do. I like you in this element. It’s sassy. Reminds me of a tossed salad . . . the lettuce, the tomatoes, the croutons . . .”

  Margo stood there and stared.

  “Okay, Daddy, too much for my ears,” Winter said, covering her ears with her hands. “You and Mom need to get over yourselves and do the right thing.”

  “Shut up, Winter,” both Jefferson and Margo said simultaneously.

  “But if you need any help . . . want my help,” Jefferson said, not willing to take his eyes off of Margo just yet, “I’m here. You know how to get in touch with me. And you know I take care of my children.”

  It was Margo’s turn to smile. “Thank you, babe . . . ah, ah, Jefferson. I may be calling you sooner than later.”

  Jefferson stood there transfixed and continued to stare at Margo. No words were necessary. He smiled, but his expression was mixed with sadness. “Okay.” And he turned and walked away.

  “Bye, Daddy,” Winter said as Jefferson walked out of the room.

  • • •

  Jefferson jumped in his Mercedes coupe and drove away in a hurry. He held the steering wheel tight with one hand and held his head up with the other, his elbow lodged in the window frame of the car door.

  Mixed emotions clouded his thinking. He wanted more than anything to be the father of the twins. Seeing Margo this afternoon for the first time in six months made his insides rattle and his heart skip a beat, causing it to palpitate out of rhythm. Although she had delivered twins only days before, Margo’s body was still in great form—a brick house no matter the interpretation. Her hips were sturdy and round and her breasts were full from carrying mother’s milk. He’d love to be one of the twins at feeding time.

  Jefferson hit the steering wheel with the palm of his hand. He missed her; he still loved her . . . almost as much as he did when they were young, foolish and had first fallen in love.

  He drove blindly through the streets of Raleigh, his mind distorted and unfocused. Were the babies his? Was he the father of the twins? Winston and Winter were twins. Then Jefferson remembered how Margo stopped short of saying that one of the twins had a birthmark. Like his?

  Jefferson wanted her. It took all the courage within him to not touch her. He wanted her bad . . . and her sitting only a few feet away, holding what was more than likely his son, confused him. It might have been lust at the moment, but Margo was still his wife. If Winter hadn’t been in the room, he might have missed his important appointment. Then again, Margo might have called the police and requested a restraining order to keep him away. He wouldn’t have been there in the first place if his daughter hadn’t begged him to come.

  He wanted her. Jefferson wanted Margo.

  Four

  Ivy put her hands on her hips and made a last inventory of the boxes she’d packed that now crowded the small living room in her condo. The movers were due in a couple of hours, and she wiped the sweat from her brow. She counted . . . “one, two, three, and four . . .” until she reached twenty-six. She stood up straight, then sighed, pushing through the faraway look on her face while brushing back the long strands of hair that fell into her eyes.

  Ivy was taking a huge risk, a huge step backward in her way of thinking. Returning to Fayetteville, North Carolina had never been an item on her short or long-range plans, especially having experienced life in Atlanta that was exciting, rewarding, and so full of opportuni
ties. Although her brother, J.R., had moved back to Raleigh several months ago to work on a business venture with their father, Ivy had not once felt alone. She was happy.

  Another sigh escaped Ivy’s lips, glad to have the last bit of packing done. She glided through the vacant hall with the empty walls of her condo and headed toward the bathroom to shower but stopped abruptly when she heard her cell phone ring.

  Ivy nearly tripped over a box trying to get to her cell that sat on a coffee table that was surrounded by boxes before it stopped ringing. She reached it in time and smiled.

  “Hey, baby,” Ivy said into the phone. “You miss me?” Pause.

  “I can’t wait to see you.” Pause.

  “All I’ve been doing is thinking about you . . . me . . . us . . . together. You consume my thoughts day and night. As much as I hate moving back to Fayetteville, I’d do anything to be with you, baby.” Pause.

  “A surprise? What is it?” Pause.

  “Give me a hint. Please, pretty, please.” Pause.

  “You’re so fresh.” Ivy blushed. Pause.

  “You’re making me wet,” Ivy said seductively. Pause.

  “I love you, too.” Pause.

  “I’m going to make it worth your while, Senator.” Pause.

  “I know you’re going to win the election. I’ve got faith. I’ve got faith in you, and I’ve got faith in us.” Pause.

  “I can’t wait for your surprise.” I’ve got a surprise for you, too, Ivy thought to herself.

  “Okay, baby. I’ll see you day after tomorrow.” Pause.

  “I love you. Smooches.”

  Ivy held the phone in her hand and closed her eyes. Another smile erupted on her face as she reminisced about how only a few nights ago her lover had made her feel like the woman she knew she was, how he tenderly and gingerly caressed her whole body with the soft and supple strokes of his hands, how he snatched her to him and worked her lips and delighted her with his tongue, and how she felt when her body trembled . . . like a climactic earthquake that swallowed up everything in its path.

  Eyes still closed, Ivy held her body and squeezed. She squeezed her breasts through the thin cotton T-shirt, rubbed her stomach with her hand and finally touched herself in her private garden, then moved her hand away quickly as if the memory was too much to bear. Ivy began to laugh, then covered her mouth with both hands . . . the memory taking hold of her, not letting go. She walked over to the couch and found a small place to sit and sat down, pushing her thighs together as if trying to fight the earthquake that wanted to erupt within her, not wanting to be consumed by the orgasm of her thoughts. She laced her fingers together and rocked back and forth, unable to hide the smile that forced itself out in the open, exposing her hidden thoughts of pleasure. And then Ivy shuddered . . . her whole body trembled while she tried to catch her breath. And then she opened her eyes and looked around and saw the cardboard boxes that sat like lifeless creatures waiting to be awakened and devour her.

  And just like that, Ivy came to her senses. She jumped up from the couch and shook her hand in the air. “Hell, let me get my funky body up out of here and take a shower so I can be presentable by the time the movers arrive.”

  Five

  “J.R., my man,” Jefferson said as he strolled through the front entrance of The Web Connection with extra pep in his step and an enormous smile on his face to go with it.

  “Whuzup, Pops?” J.R. asked Jefferson, flicking one of his braids out of his eye as he looked up. “Must’ve hit pay dirt, with all those pearly whites you’ve got showing in your mouth.”

  “J.R., we are designing the website and all other media material for Dr. Shelton Wright.”

  “You mean the dude who’s running for senator?”

  Jefferson walked over and stood beside J.R.’s desk. “Our name is already out there, but we’re getting ready to blow the joint up.” Jefferson and J.R. slapped each other’s hand. “This is a big deal. From all accounts of our interview, we will also be handling his TV ad campaigns. I’m on the way into my office now to draw up the contract. Get ready. I’ve also been looking for another location to set up shop—you, Winston, and I will each have our own office.”

  “You the man, Pops. I hope Winston plans on starting sometime this week; we’re going to need all the help we can get.”

  “Your brother promised me he would be here by Thursday to help out. Trying to finish up some project he’s working on. I may be able to bring him in full-time with what’s getting ready to happen to us, not that we’re doing bad now.”

  “Yeah, I wouldn’t mind a raise.”

  “Son, you’ll get your raise. You’re doing a damn good job. We’ve got a large number of contracts under our belt but nothing as lucrative as this. This will put us on the map.”

  J.R. pulled on the lapels of his Old Navy plaid poplin shirt that sat over a white wife beater and smiled. “Pop, I’m glad you and me,” J.R. pointed to himself, then back at Jefferson, “have made amends and are friends. We didn’t always see eye-to-eye while I was growing up, but you giving me this chance to make something of myself has allowed me to see who you really are, besides being my Pop, and what you’re made of. And I like it a lot.”

  Jefferson looked at J.R. thoughtfully and patted his chest with his fist. He pulled J.R. up by the arm, and they hugged in a gentleman’s embrace. “I’m glad you’re here, son.” Jefferson began to choke up. “I . . . I love you.” He and J.R. embraced again.

  Jefferson moved away before their father and son love fest got sloppy. And the last thing Jefferson wanted was for J.R. to see him cry. “Oh, by the way, your mother wants you to stop by. She hasn’t seen you in awhile.”

  J.R. was silent but continued working, putting the finishing touches on a website he was building for a local church. “So you saw Mom?” J.R. finally said.

  “Your sister nearly dragged me over there . . . I guess to rub those twin babies in my face. Winter thinks I need to own up to them and do the right thing by your mother. But I can’t make someone love me if they don’t.”

  “So why did you and Mom break up? Why did she want a divorce?”

  “Life and love is a hard thing, J.R. I’ve hurt your mom something awful in the past, but I was praying that when I got out of jail, things were going to turn around—be better, especially since she waited for me those five long years. It was for a moment.”

  “So, did it have to do with you and Angelica?”

  “What do you mean by Angelica and me?”

  “Who doesn’t know about you and Angelica?”

  “J.R., there was never anything between Angelica and me. I was her husband’s accountant. I don’t think Hamilton knew how Angelica was, although, they did end up in divorce court. True, Angelica tried to put the moves on me a time or two, but she’d changed after she got out of prison. She wanted to create a new life for herself until Santiago showed back up on the scene, trying to exact revenge on all of us who’d been a part of his organization, Operation Stingray. I don’t know why I let Hamilton talk me into it. Now he’s dead, I lost my company, but I thank God I’ve been given another chance to make my life right.”

  “So, did it have to do with Linda, our ex-next-door neighbor? I thought Mom forgave you of that mess.”

  “Uhmm, she did. However, we learned something right before your mother left me that was the proverbial straw that broke the camel’s back.”

  Jefferson looked at J.R. and blew air from his mouth. He was in a good place, having the prodigal son return home, but he was afraid that if he shared this bit of news, he might lose J.R. again. But he wanted to be honest and upfront. Maybe it was time to share this news with his kids.

  “What is it, Pops? You can tell me . . . trust me with anything. I’ve got your back.”

  Jefferson looked into his son’s eyes, those inquiring eyes that said they understood.

  “You have another brother; he’s about six now. Linda gave birth to a son that I had no knowledge of until your mother and I bu
mped into them at an ice cream parlor.”

  At first, J.R. took the news in and ingested it, rolled it around in his head a moment, then looked up at Jefferson. “How do you know he’s yours?”

  “I don’t, but the one thing Margo and I agreed on, he looked a lot like you. There was no mistaking that coincidence.”

  J.R. laughed and slapped his dad on the arm. “Is he old enough to join the family business?”

  Jefferson smiled. “Whew, I was afraid . . .”

  “Afraid I was going to run away again? Naw, I said I had your back. You’ve paid for your sins. It is what it is. So, did you see the new twins?”

  “Yeah.”

  “So, is she going to raise them by herself?”

  “Looks that way. I had to hurry up and get out of there, though. Your mother looked so good.”

  J.R. smiled. “You still love her, don’t you?”

  “I’ve got mad love for that woman.”

  • • •

  J.R. took a last look at the website he created. Satisfied, he began the process of publishing it. The fee netted them a few thousand dollars, but the money was in the mega churches.

  He landed a huge account for the firm when he joined a mega church and soon after, submitted his proposal. Although he had an ulterior motive for joining, he found that he rather liked the services, except the keeping track of his tithe paying. The extras were the truckloads of women who came every Sunday, distracting him from his time with Jesus. The church, though, helped him get his head together, to heal, to be in the place he was now in with his dad. He hadn’t quite gotten there with his mother.

  Hungry as a bear, J.R. got up from his chair hoping their part-time receptionist, Cheryl Richards, was on her way in. He needed some air—a moment to think. His mind drifted to what his Pops had said about visiting his mother. It wasn’t that he hated her; he was mad that she didn’t want to keep the family together. Although, now, he understood some of her frustrations.