Page 142 of Love, Rekindled

Only one spot has marred such a perfect start.

I still haven’t told Cliff. Or my parents, for that matter. Of course, Janice knows, and keeps urging me to tell them. She saysrip the Band-Aid off.It’s a point of contention between Naz and me, so we don’t talk about it much. He’s not going anywhere, and I don’t want him to. But at some point, I’ll have to tell Cliff. He’s just doing so well with his job, with his kids, with his life. Better than he’s been in a long time. If I did anything to hurt that, I’d never forgive myself. I’m not giving up Naz, though. My love for my brother and my…feelingsfor Naz are on a collision course.

It's too soon to saylove.

Right?

I don’t know that I’ve ever actually been in love before, but if it feels any deeper, any richer than this—if it moves you more—I may not be able to stand it.

I check the mirror propped against the wall in my bedroom.

Damn, I look good.

It’s not just the silk dress that clings to all my curves from breast to thigh and then ends with a flare of tulle above my knees. Or the perilously high heels that tie up in straps around my calves. With my braids gone, I’ve styled my natural hair into a frothy halo of textured waves and curls. To garnish the sexy image, my diamond T charm glints against the lingering tan of my throat. I’m putting the finishing touches on my lipstick when the phone rings again. I grab it and glance at the screen.

Mama.

My heart seizes a little every time I see her name onscreen. I know it’s ridiculous, but I flash back to the night she called screaming and crying so much I couldn’t understand a word she said. And once I did understand, the horror of what had happened to Cliff… I’ll never forget that. I shake off the memory and answer.

“Hey, Mama.”

“Tee, hey, baby. How you?”

Some of the leftover tension drains from my shoulders as her accent breezes over me, stronger today, as it often is after she talks with any of our family still living in Trinidad.

“I’m good. How you?”

“Fine. You talk to Neecey?”

“We texted yesterday.” I sit on the edge of my bed and admire how the white polish on my toes looks with my tan. “Everything okay?”

“I just got off the phone with her not too long ago.” A brief pause breaks the flow of Mama’s words. “You heard about that retirement thing they’re doing for Coach Lipton?”

I draw in a deep breath and blow it out before answering. “I heard something about it, yeah.”

“They’ve asked Cliff to say a few words.”

“That’s good. He loves Coach and Coach loves him—has been there for him through everything.”

“True. I just worry. He’s been doing so good, and I don’t want no setbacks, ya know?”

“Of course. He’ll be fine, don’t you think?”

“Praying, but I thought it might be good if you and Janice maybe come home to visit? Support him?”

“Oh.” It’s all I can manage for a second.

“Janice isn’t sure she’ll be able to get away. She’s checking. If you’re busy, I understand, but I heard Nazareth is attending, too, and you know how that boy sets Cliff off.”

Hearing Naz’s name from her jars me, and for a moment, it’s like a glitch—something in the wrong place and time. Images of Naz I’ve collected over the last month fill my mind. Him leaning against the rail on the yacht, his smile wide and blinding. Laughing, holding my hand as we explored the streets of Positano. His stern features softened in the waning light of the villa’s garden surrounded by lemon and olive trees. And all of our dates since we’ve been back in LA.

Not telling her about Naz feels like a betrayal to all he and I have shared.

“Mama,” I say, my voice coming out stronger than I thought it would. “There’s something I need to tell you.”

“Out wit’ it, Tee.”

“It’s about Naz.”

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