Page 81 of Love Me Carefully
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Leah put the key in and pushed the door open, expecting that feeling of welcome and comfort after being away for a few days. She didn’t feel a bit of it as she walked in and closed the door behind her. Maybe because she was paying so much attention to her surroundings, she couldn’t really enjoy the fact that she was home. She found herself looking around as if she’d never been in that apartment before in her life.
Abruptly she stopped in the middle of her living room and took a deep breath. This was ridiculous; she wasn’t this type of woman. She would not let the unknown frighten her. She moved to her answering machine and pushed the play button to listen to her messages. While the tape rewound, she undid her blouse and walked toward her bedroom to change. She’d throw on some jeans and a shirt, then gather all her laundry together before leaving for Ms. Rosie’s. Tomorrow was Saturday, and she could head to the laundromat early and get the bothersome chore over with.
Humming a tune she’d just heard on the radio, she walked through the dark bedroom, letting her memory guide her around until she was near the nightstand, where she leaned over and switched on the lamp. Pulling her shirt from her slacks, she turned to go to her closet and stopped dead in her tracks.
A scream died in her throat as her eyes fell to her bed. There in the center, laid out perfectly as if she were preparing to wear it, was a black negligee, one she’d never seen before. Over the pillows and down on the floor rose petals in an array of colors were strewn all over. At the end of the bed was a brass cart, two glasses and a bottle of champagne chilling in an ice bucket.
She brought her fist to her mouth to keep from yelling out loud. Staggering backwards, away from the frightening display, she backed into the nightstand, knocking the lamp to the floor. Tears welled up in her eyes and her entire body trembled.
“Somebody was in my house,” she whispered, then looked around to see if that person were still there. With her heart hammering in her chest, she bolted from the room and picked up the phone.
She didn’t remember the numbers she’d pressed, didn’t even hear him speak until he yelled.
“Leah? Is something wrong?” Terrell had recognized her number on his phone as it rang, and now he didn’t hear anything. Dread filled him and he cursed himself for being stupid enough to leave alone.
She’d been ready to tell him what was going on, ready to tell him that somebody had been in her house when she saw it.
The statue.
It sat regally in the center of her coffee table, surrounded by the same rose petals that were in her bedroom.
She moved closer to the table, closer to the African statue that Leon had given to her and picked it up. It was heavy, had always been extremely heavy, and dark, the ebony stone foreboding and dismal to her thinking. She rubbed her hand over the flattened head and felt a chill run straight down her spine.
“Terrell, you have to come quick,” was all she could manage before the phone and the statue slipped from her hands.
* * *
Terrell drove as if he owned the road, his Mercedes soaring through the night streets like a sleek silver bullet. He’d barely put the car in park before slamming the door and heading towards Leah’s building. The elevator moved too slow, so he ran the three flights up and then down the hall to her apartment. Using his key to let himself in, he looked frantically into the living room and found her slumped on the floor.
“Baby? Are you okay? Tell me what happened.” He was on his knees beside her, checking her arms, her legs, her face, everywhere for any injuries. She hadn’t said what was going on when she was on the phone, and each time he’d tried to call her back he’d gotten her voice mail. The last fifteen minutes had been torture, as thoughts of what could possibly be happening taunted him.
“He said the statue was from the Asante tribes in Ghana. It’s called an Akuba,” she said in a voice so small he could barely hear her.
Terrell looked down at the statue lying beside her leg. Leah stared into space as he picked it up, held the heavy stone in his hand. “Is this what you’re talking about? Where did you get it?” He didn’t know what the hell was going on, but apparently this figurine had something to do with it.
“It’s a fertility figure. It embodies the concept of beauty. He said it reminded him of me.” That, she remembered, was the only time he’d ever called her beautiful.
“Okay, baby, I don’t get where you’re going with this. Who said it reminded him of you? Where did you get this?” Terrell shook the statue in front of her face, trying to solicit a straight answer. A sick feeling swirled in the pit of his stomach.
Leah turned then, as if she’d just noticed Terrell was at her side. “It was on top of the television when we came back from Jamaica.”
Terrell put the piece down and took her hands in his. “Leah, tell me what’s going on.”
Leah shook her head vehemently. “I never keep it on the television because it’s so heavy, and I didn’t want it sitting on top of my DVD player. Then tonight,” her gaze went beyond him to the rose petals on the coffee table, “tonight it was on the coffee table. I don’t like it there either, because it’s too tall and blocks the television. I keep it over there,” she pointed, “on the bookcase.”
Terrell followed her gaze and her words. “So how did it get on the coffee table?” He asked the question but already knew the answer. “Who gave you this, Leah?”
She began to shake her head again. “He was here. He was in the bedroom, too. He came here when I was with you. Both times that I was away with you, he came here.” Her bottom lip started to quiver. “He touched my things and he walked around my house when I wasn’t here.”
Terrell pulled her to him, cradled her head and rubbed her back. He knew who she was talking about, knew who had been in her house when she was with him. He knew because he’d shook his hand right in this very living room.
