Deja Vu

Click, click, click. Click, click, click went Jefferson’s teeth. The noise was aggravating, but he continued to scrape them together. Margo started for the bathroom.

“Please don’t leave the room. I’m doing much better than I thought. Malik would have been dead by now, if the thought of being locked up in a prison cell hadn’t occurred to me. But you’re not going anywhere.” Jefferson’s countenance changed.

Margo looked up at her husband’s smiling face. “What are you getting ready to do? Jefferson, I’m not up to any games.”

“I’m taking off my robe.”

“For what?”

“For some hot fudge sundae. That will always be my flavor of the month, the year, and the next several decades.”

Margo stared at him with her hands on her hips. “What would Jesus say about you having hot fudge on a Sunday, no pun intended, while you should be at church?”

“I don’t think He would say never on a Sunday-maybe He’ll say not on His time. But let me take something from the scriptures. The bridegroom cometh. Is there oil in your lamp? Is it trimmed and burning?”

“You are blasphemous. The Lord is going to strike you down. But if you’re offering yourself to me, I’m a taker.”

57

Hints of summer were all around. Spring flowers had become enormous flowerbeds of day lilies, mums, impatiens, and hostas. Even the eerie feeling that blanketed the city yesterday gave way to a brilliant sun that would cause many to flock to Myrtle Beach or other resorts if it weren’t a Monday.

They walked through the house as they waited for the contractors who would assess and repair the damage. The memory of the shooting had shaken them both to the point that the house on Andover Street was no longer attractive. Other bad memories clouded their desire to stay in the house also, and a “For Sale” sign would most likely be imminent.

“I can’t believe Angelica wants to go back to New York. A large part of her life is here,” Margo said thoughtfully as she placed a finger in a hole in the wall that had held one of the many bullets that had flown through the front window.

“Can’t blame her,” Jefferson responded. “Some memories you want to leave behind. I hear she has a love interest waiting for her.”

“Ari is his name. She called him while you and Edward were at the store last night. I believe she has finally found true love.”

“I’m not sure Angelica will ever know what true love is, but it’s her life.”

“Why would you say that, Jefferson? It’s almost as if you’re jealous of…”

“Please don’t start speculating about what isn’t, Margo. I’m only saying that Angelica bounces around from one man to another…and, I hate to say it, but she keeps messing up other people’s lives. She doesn’t know what she wants. Men find her attractive, which means she gets lots of attention. When a man whispers in her ear, she believes it’s love but the woman really doesn’t have a clue.”

“So, Mr. Know-It-All, sounds like you’ve got Angelica all figured out, like you’re talking from experience.”

“Give me a little more credit than that, Margo. Angelica is transparent as glass-you see her for what she is and use her for what you want if she doesn’t use you first-and most times she does.”

“That’s terrible, Jefferson. I can’t believe you’re talking about the woman who was once my best friend. We’ve been with her and Edward the whole weekend, even through this ordeal with Santiago. You helped her with her money matters. Why are you all of a sudden talking down about her?”

“True, but it’s the other side of her you really don’t know-the part that I want to put distance between.”

“You’re saying that because she deceived you by getting into your accounts. You only have yourself to blame for that.”

“Yeah, you’re right, but that’s only part of it. Did you know that Hamilton met Angelica in a strip joint? She made her living as a dancer until he took her off the streets.”

Margo sighed. “So, she didn’t flip burgers at McDonald’s or Burger King. She didn’t go to college. Sounds like she had hopes of a better future; I hope she made lots of money trying to get there. That was a long time ago, Jefferson.”

“Margo, only you would say something like that. You’re upset because you didn’t have any idea about her past.”

“If you knew so much, why didn’t you share it with me before now? It’s Angelica’s past, so let’s leave it there. For the record, we’ve all fallen short with more than a few blemishes on our lives, Mr. Jefferson Myles. No room to talk. Get my meaning?”

“Got it and saved by the bell. The glass man is here.”

“Don’t try and change the subject. I think Angelica has met the right person this time, and if I was a betting woman, my money says she’ll be married within the next year.”

“The bet is on, and girl, you’re going to lose. Oh, and here comes the other contractor. Thank God. I’m tired of talking about Angelica.”

“Suit yourself.”

“I’ll get the door.”

“Don’t forget, we have an early dinner with Angelica and Edward today.”

“How I wish I could forget,” Jefferson said under his breath.

Jefferson’s words bounced in Margo’s head-transparent…the other side of Angelica. There may have been no love lost between Jefferson and Angelica, but there was something that he was not saying-something that only he and Angelica knew about. Of that Margo was certain.

The sweet smell of hickory invaded their nostrils as they exited the car and headed into the restaurant. Running behind schedule, Margo and Jefferson rushed inside and waded through the eclectic sea of people-some standing and others sitting on long wooden benches, waiting to satisfy their hunger. Empty peanut shells littered the floor, while nostalgic pictures hung on the walls in the rustic motif of the restaurant, and fires blazed on long open grills as chefs turned over steaks that were rare, medium, medium well, and well done to the customer’s satisfaction.

A hand held high waved them in their direction. Angelica seems so at peace, Margo thought. Death sometimes had a way of bringing closure to headaches and heartaches, and Angelica had had enough of both to last a lifetime.

Margo saw Jefferson’s eyes move to Angelica’s backside when she bent over slightly to pinch the cheek of a cute little baby girl whose mother had squished her into a carrier. A pair of low-rider jeans hugged Angelica’s shapely behind, but even the top of her thong was too much for Margo’s eyes. The peep show was over in a second, but the real show was about to begin.

A gasp flew from Margo’s mouth. Sitting next to Edward like he was the Duke of Earl, was Malik. She grabbed the side of Jefferson’s arm, but not without feeling the electrical currents pulsating through it.

It was showdown at the Texas Roadhouse. Shorts-clad waitresses were already linked together in a do-si-do victory dance. Someone had yelled hee-haw before the winner was ever announced, better yet, before the fight had taken place. The two bulls, one named Jefferson and the other Malik, flexed their muscles and stared each other down, waiting for the bell to ring.

“What’s up with you all?” Angelica asked, glaring at Margo and Jefferson.

“As much as we want to celebrate your new freedom and return to New York,” Jefferson began, “I find it a bit crowded.”

“Do you want to move to another table?” Angelica offered.

“What is Malik doing here?” Jefferson asked with disdain. “You didn’t mention that Malik was invited to this