Authors: Zuri Day
Lovin' Blue (10 page)
19
Michael Anderson came bounding off the steps and down the walkway. A huge smile was spread across his face as he reached the passenger side of Jansen's SUV. “Little sis!”
Eden had recovered from the initial shock of Michael being home (the same shock that had instantly cooled her ardor) and warmly returned his smile. Even with his reprehensible timing, she was still glad to see the older brother she adored. She stepped out of the opened door and onto the sidewalk into Michael's big bear hug. “Mikey!”
Michael lifted Eden off the ground and twirled her around. “Hey, weed,” he said, putting her back down. It was only then that he noticed how dressed up she was. He looked over at Jansen, who remained standing on the other side of the car. What Michael didn't know was that something else was standing at attention, and Jansen couldn't move until this something was at ease. Michael's look was speculative and slightly confused as he gave a hand to his best friend. “J-Dog.”
“Big Mike,” Jansen responded rather woodenly. This was his best friend in all the world, but right now Michael Anderson was the last person Jansen wanted to see. He finally came around the car and grasped Michael's hand as they did the standard brother-to-brother bump-shoulder hug. Jansen crossed his arms, his stance intimidating, even though, at five feet eleven, Michael was a bulky two-fifty. “This is a surprise.”
Michael slowly looked from Jansen to his sister. “I see,” he said slowly, eyeing Eden from her French-manicured toenails to her bone-straight hair. When he looked back at Jansen, he wasn't smiling. “What's going on, man?”
Eden could feel the tension and didn't want anything to get out of hand. She knew these two men were closer than brothers, and they acted like it. She'd also witnessed plenty of arguments between themâa couple that had turned physical. She did not want now to be one of those times. “What's going on, big brother,” Eden said lightly, linking her arm in his and turning him toward the door, “are two friends calling a truce after getting on each other's nerves all week. We just came back from dinner.”
“Damn, where'd y'all eat? The White House?”
Eden laughed, but she was the only one. Michael again looked at Jansen, who did not return his stare. The three entered the house and walked into the living room. Michael and Eden sat on the couch, while Jansen occupied the oversize chair on the other side of the room. “Is that right, Jansen?” Michael asked him after they'd sat. “Y'all just having a little casual dinner that doesn't look so casual?”
Jansen gave Eden another of his trademark unreadable expressions before looking at Michael. “If she says that's what it was . . . that's what it was.”
Eden wanted to walk over and slap Jansen upside the head.
Geez, men and their egos! Why couldn't he just follow the script?
“What's going on?” Eden sang jokingly. She playfully punched her brother. “Can we stop with the interrogation, Michael? You're acting like I'm twelve years old!” She scooted over and twirled one of his locs in her hand. “Wow, your hair has grown a lot in the past six months! I bet they loved you over in London.”
Geez, men and their egos! Why couldn't he just follow the script?
“What's going on?” Eden sang jokingly. She playfully punched her brother. “Can we stop with the interrogation, Michael? You're acting like I'm twelve years old!” She scooted over and twirled one of his locs in her hand. “Wow, your hair has grown a lot in the past six months! I bet they loved you over in London.”
Michael saw how much Eden wanted to change the subject and went along with it. There would be time enough to make sure Jansen hadn't crossed the line with his baby sis. “I did all right,” he answered with a crooked smile. He looked over at Jansen. “How were things over here, dog? Any information on who might be robbing folks in the neighborhood?”
The atmosphere calmed, and the three slipped back into their familiar friendly flow as Jansen recounted the event with the elderly neighbor who lived on the block behind Michael.
“You talking about Sassy? Miss Mayleen Smith?”
Jansen smiled. “She told me everybody called her that. I thought she was teasing.”
“Naw, that's what we all call her. Damn, man, I'm glad you jogged down her block. She's the nicest woman you'd ever want to meetânever meets a stranger and would give you the shirt off her back.”
“Yeah, being nice almost got her raped, or worse.”
“I think I know the punk you're talking about,” Michael said after a pause. “Short, bulky, dark-skinned dude, bald?”
“Not too bulky, and he was wearing a hooded shirt, but it could be who you're thinking about.”
“I think they call him Pookie or Sookie or something. Him and some of his boys hang out by the 7- Eleven down the street.”
“His name is Terrell, Terrell Ford. He's the grandson of one of Sassy's best friends.” Jansen almost broke protocol and shared what he'd learned when he'd called the name in to the stationâthat Terrell had spent time in jail for attempted robbery and had been arrested on suspicion of sexual assault. The charges had been dropped after the woman refused to testify. “He probably won't come back around for a while, and I told Miss Smith I'd check back in on her, but now that you're home, try to keep an eye out also, if you can.”
“For sure, man.” All three were quiet a moment, absorbed with thoughts of surviving in an imperfect world. Michael got up and walked into the kitchen. “You want a beer?” he yelled.
“No, man, I'm good.”
“What about you, sis? You want one of these froo-froo drinks you have in here? What is this . . . colored water?”
“It's healthy water, with vitamins and other stuff. And, yes, I'll take one.”
“So,” Michael continued when he came back into the living room, “this punk is the one responsible for the break-ins?”
Jansen shrugged. “Could be, but more than likely there are others.” Jansen thought back to the arrest they'd made the week prior off of La Brea. “It's probably a burglary ring of eight, ten people. Or even more. You never know.”
“Gang related?”
“Maybe.”
Eden took off her shoes and curled her legs beneath her. “All right already! Enough about crimes, gangs, and negative stuff. I want to hear about your trip, Michael. And this new group you're managing.”
As Michael talked and Eden became absorbed in his tales of celebrity, Jansen became absorbed in her . . . remembering the silky feel of her dress and her even softer skin. His eyes traveled from her exposed knees and calves to the dark, thick nipple he now knew resided behind a lacy black bra. These thoughts had been diverted for a minute, but they slammed back into his consciousness with the force of a tsunami. He wanted Eden Anderson more than he'd ever wanted anyone in his life. Nothing was going to tamp down his desire. Not even distance. But right now distance was what he needed to have, or else he'd swoop up Eden like a caveman, throw her over his shoulder, place her soft cheeks into his car, and whisk her to his house so they could finish what they started. He stood abruptly and strode toward the stairs.
“Whoa, where are you going, dog? I'm just now getting to the good partâthe night I hung out with Corinne Bailey Rae.”
“While some are living the high life, brothah, others have to prepare for a regular
J-O-B.
” Jansen mounted the stairs. In less than fifteen minutes, he came back down with two garment bags and a medium-sized suitcase.
J-O-B.
” Jansen mounted the stairs. In less than fifteen minutes, he came back down with two garment bags and a medium-sized suitcase.
“Hey, man. You don't have to leave tonight. I can sleep in the weight room,” Michael said, rising.
“You know there's nothing like your own bed,” Jansen answered. “I may have left a few things, but I'll stop back through tomorrow.” He looked over at Eden. “Later, weed.” Michael followed Jansen out the door.
Eden's heart sank with each step Jansen took away from her. Their conversation grew faint, and Eden wondered if Michael was once again questioning what had happened that evening. Then she heard Jansen's rumbling laughter and knew that all was well. At least for now. But Eden also knew that nothing would totally be well in her world again until the “weed” Jansen had referred to upon leaving had her petal licked with passion and her flower deeply plucked.
20
Every minute, every hour. I'm going to inhale the scent of your flower.
Fill your heart with my love power in the garden of love.
Eden turned this way and that, convinced she was dreaming. Who'd Jansen given these lyrics to, and when did they have time to record a song? But then her eyes snapped open, and the pounding bass over which the smooth-sounding singer sang still beat its incessant tune. But for the fact that she knew better, she'd swear the drummer had set up shop in the living room downstairs. And then it all came rushing back to her. Michael was home. And so was his bad habit of playing music at the highest volume possible. She looked at her clock. It was barely nine AM.
Some things never change,
she thought as she got out of bed. When they were kids, their mother had had to constantly hound him to turn the sound down, often threatening him to within an inch of his life before her order was obeyed. Eden didn't have the “mama fear factor,” but she was going to give her search for silence the old college try.
Some things never change,
she thought as she got out of bed. When they were kids, their mother had had to constantly hound him to turn the sound down, often threatening him to within an inch of his life before her order was obeyed. Eden didn't have the “mama fear factor,” but she was going to give her search for silence the old college try.
“Turn that down!” she yelled as she stomped down the stairs and over to the stereo. “Dang, Michael. Do you know what time it is?”
“Yeah, baby, it's time to come up! This is my band, Eden. They're the hottest thing happening in London right now. Listen!” He walked over to the stereo and turned up the music to almost as high as it was before. He then danced around the room as he sang along with the chorus:
“Fill your heart with my love power in the garden of love.”
A rapper's staccato delivery then cut in about how he was going to take the girl and show her the world, and then more about Bentleys and Hypnotic and other expansive promises delivered at a pace too fast for Eden's listening ear to absorb. “This is the stuff right here,” Michael exclaimed, bobbing his head to the beat. “You can't get with this? Girl, this is the next number one!”
“Fill your heart with my love power in the garden of love.”
A rapper's staccato delivery then cut in about how he was going to take the girl and show her the world, and then more about Bentleys and Hypnotic and other expansive promises delivered at a pace too fast for Eden's listening ear to absorb. “This is the stuff right here,” Michael exclaimed, bobbing his head to the beat. “You can't get with this? Girl, this is the next number one!”
“It's all right,” Eden conceded. She walked back over to the stereo. “It sounds even better at this decibel level.” Once she'd turned down the volume, she swayed to the beat in exaggerated fashion. “Ooooh, I really like it now,” she said. She danced over to and up the steps.
After showering and brushing her teeth, Eden returned downstairs. She walked into the kitchen, looked over at the breakfast booth, and was immediately reminded of the cozy moments with Jansen sharing laughter and ice cream. She'd started to call him last night, only to realize that in all the time they'd spent together, they'd never exchanged cell-phone numbers. She fixed a bowl of fresh fruit and wondered if he thought of her as much as she thought of him, if he ached for his touch the way she did for his. And what was up with the song that had awakened her, the song recorded by her brother's band? The lyrics were so much like Jansen's words of the previous night it was scary.
“Who wrote that song?” Eden asked as she entered the living room.
“Kory, the lead singer,” Michael replied. “The brothah's from London, that's how we initially hooked up with the contact over there. And he's the real deal. After he sang it for me, I told him about you, how we used to call you “little garden” and “weed,” and whatnot. He's a pretty cool dude, wants to meet you. Although you might be a little old for him. You're pushing what, forty?”
“Whatever, fool! Only if you're forty-three! And I look twenty-three. You'd better recognize.”
“You look all right.”
“What's the name of the band?”
“Reignâlike the dynasty, not water.”
The two continued to listen as the song played. “He sounds like Usher,” Eden said.
“Please, Usher wishes he could throw down like Kory. You just heard one song! This dude is bad. He can sound like Prince one minute and Barry White the next. His range is phenomenal.”
So is Jansen's tongue.
Eden went down memory lane so quick she didn't even realize it had happened until Michael repeated her name.
Eden went down memory lane so quick she didn't even realize it had happened until Michael repeated her name.
“Eden.”
“I'm sorry . . . what?”
“I was saying did you . . . Never mind that. What's up with you and Jansen?”
Eden's fork stopped in midair before she answered nonchalantly, “Nothing.”
“Didn't look like nothing last night. I don't have to remind you about J-Dog, right?”
“Gosh, Michael. He's your best friend. If he's a dog, what does that say about the company you keep?”
Michael eyed Eden with brotherly concern. “Being a best friend is one thing; being a boyfriend is another. Jansen's a good man, Eden, has had my back every day of my life. But he's also got a history and a track record. I've seen him in action and . . . I don't want to see you get hurt.”
“A man can change, Michael,” Eden said testily.
“Waitây'all fuckin?” Michael's question came out more like an accusation.
“Not only was that crass and uncalled for, Michael,” Eden replied with forced calm, “but it's none of your business.”
“Well, I guess that's my answer. And just so you know, anything that affects you is my business.”
Eden's heart swelled with love for her brother. He'd been her protector from the time she was born. “No, big brother,” she said, her voice filled with kindness, “it's not. I know I'll always be your little sister, but I'm way past grown. I'm a thirty-four-year-old divorcee who's navigated places in relationships I hope you never experience.”
Michael got up and turned off the music. “I know, sis. Which is why I don't want you hurt again. You never would open up about Gregg's punk assâ”
“Because I never want to have our conversations reduced to only between visiting hours with a sheet of bulletproof glass between us.”
“Oh, he's still got an ass whooping coming if I ever see him, trust me on that.”
“Gregg will get what he has coming to him, Michael, one way or the other. I've forgiven him and moved on. I want you to do the same. Anger and unforgiveness are unproductive emotions, Mikey. They take years off your life.”
“Yeah, well, kicking that nuckah's ass will add back a few.”
Eden laughed, and soon Michael joined her. They spent the next two hours catching up on each other's lives and then another half hour on a call to their mother. After they'd shared a lunch of grilled-cheese sandwiches and fresh tomato soup, one of their childhood favorites, Eden prepared for her yoga class and to run errands afterward. She'd enjoyed the morning with her brother. And had almost forgotten how much she missed Jansen.
“Here you go,” Michael said as Eden headed to the door. He gave her a copy of his band's CD,
Silent Reign.
Silent Reign.
“How's a band going to call a CD silent?”
“Not the band, foolâeverybody who's listening. Our reign is so tough it will have the listeners unable to do anything but groove to the beatâspellbound and speechless.”
Eden didn't know about all that, but she knew she liked at least one of the CD's tracks. “I'm proud of you, Mikey,” she said with a hug.
As she made her way to Santa Monica and the serenity of the yoga studio, Eden put the fifth track, “Garden of Love,” on repeat and listened to it the whole way there. In her mind, Kory's fateful lyrics mixed with Jansen's heat-producing promises from the night before:
. . . acquaint myself with your lovely petal . . . bury myself the deepest into that flower.
Last night, Eden's feelings about whether or not she wanted to be with Jansen had been mixed. Today her mind was clear. She wanted to be Jansen's flower garden, and she was ready for him to help her bloom.
. . . acquaint myself with your lovely petal . . . bury myself the deepest into that flower.
Last night, Eden's feelings about whether or not she wanted to be with Jansen had been mixed. Today her mind was clear. She wanted to be Jansen's flower garden, and she was ready for him to help her bloom.
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