Teri Woods: True To The Game III

Viola looked up and saw a big smile on Cherelle’s face. From that point on, there was a bond and a relationship between the two women. Cherelle got exactly what she had always hoped for-Quadir’s family’s acceptance for her daughter-and Viola got what she wasn’t expecting, a granddaughter. By the time Viola was done, she had made up her mind that her grandbaby would never want for anything. From that day forth, if Cherelle needed something, the Richards family had her back.

Quadir smiled as he thought of his mother, Cherelle, and his daughter spending Sunday mornings at church together. He thought of Gena, and the happy smile on his face slowly faded. He could see her now, absolutely disgusted. He could hear her, too.

“Are you crazy? You let your mother throw me to the fucking wolves, while she does everything in her power to make sure Cherelle and your baby are hunky fucking dory?”

Yup, that’s about how it would sound. He had decided that just as with Gena, he would have to take care of Cherelle also, once he got his money back. And, of course, Amelia. Gena and Cherelle would both be fine as long as they didn’t try to live like rap stars. A million dollars was enough to buy a decent house and car. They would have enough to pay their bills, and Gena could even finish school. She could make a nice life for herself. With a million dollars, Gena could even look out for her grandmother and the rest of her family. God knows, she wouldn’t have to work. And just to show how decent he was, he’d put up a million, just in case she needed more at a later date. Maybe ten or twenty years from now, he would shoot her a second mil ticket. That should definitely hold her.

Amelia breezed through the front door.

“Hey.”

“Hey yourself!” she said, tossing her keys onto a Bombay chest in the foyer. She sat her briefcase down next to it, strolled into the living room, and kissed Quadir on his cheek. “Whatcha doing?”

Quadir shook his head.

“Why so glum?” she asked.

“Just doing some thinking.”

“About?”

“Money, Gena, all of that stuff.”

“You seem to never stop thinking about her. Actually, it seems as though she’s the only thing you ever do think of.”

Quadir peered up. “How do you figure?”

“Oh, Quadir, please. It’s true.”

Quadir looked away. He wasn’t quite sure what he was supposed to say. In a way, Amelia was right. She was all he thought of, her and his money. He often wondered whether, if she didn’t have his money, he would ever have thoughts of her.

“You know I didn’t tell you this, but remember the night you brought Gena here? Well, when I examined her, I realized that she had suffered a miscarriage.”

“She was… pregnant.”

“Yeah, she lost the baby, though. I guess Jerrell beat her so bad, she lost it.”

Silence fell and a look of despair fell upon Quadir’s face.

“Are you okay?” Amelia asked.

The last thing he wanted to hear was that Gena had been pregnant by Jerrell.

“I said are you okay?” Amelia asked again, realizing for the first time just how deep his concentration was set in Gena mode.

He still loves her. Amelia realized the truth of the matter. She had never thought in a million years that hearing Gena had a miscarriage would even remotely affect him. She honestly thought that his hearing that piece of information would drive him further away from her, and he’d let it go, let her go, even let the money go. However, his reaction indicated that he wasn’t about to let anything go.

“Quadir, I can’t do this anymore,” said Amelia in almost a hushed tone.

“Can’t do what?”

“I can’t pretend. Maybe you can, but I can’t.”

“Amelia, what are you talking about?”

“I’m talking about you, me, you and me. It’s nothing, it’s just make pretend. You pretend to have feelings for me that you just don’t have, and I sit here and pretend that maybe, just maybe you’ll forget about her, and love me. But the truth is you won’t, and I’m tired of pretending that maybe you will.”

“Are you saying that I’m in love with Gena?”

“I don’t have to say it. Why does anyone have to say it? I mean, my God, it’s written all over your face,” said Amelia. “She needs you, Quadir.”

“Doc, I don’t understand.”

“That’s your problem, Quadir. You always want to try to figure things out, you always want to try to dissect, to label, to understand and rationalize. Some things are not meant to be understood. Some things are, because they just are. You love her, she loves you, and right now, she needs you more than ever.”

“And what about us?”

“What about us?” Amelia asked with a smile on her face. “Maybe we are meant to be together, maybe we aren’t, maybe it’s just… bad timing, maybe in another life. I don’t know. But, I know this; you need to help her. You are the only one who can.”

“Yeah, but…”

“But nothing, Quadir. I’m here, you know, and besides, you don’t stop loving someone, Quadir. In fact, if it’s true love, it never really ends. It changes, it grows deeper, more profound, it morphs into different manifestations, but it’s always there. True love lasts through time and space and distance.” Amelia paused for a moment, hearing her own words as a tear whelped in her eye. “She loved you, even when you were on the other side. You think that I’ll stop loving you, just because you are across the country?”

“I thought that we were going to go across the country together.”

“Sometimes, people are meant to travel this life together for great distances, sometimes short ones.”

“And you and me?”

“Who said that our journey together is over? Who knows what the future holds for us, Quadir? But right now, what we do know is that Gena needs you.”

“And you don’t need me?” Quadir looked down.

“No, I don’t need you,” Amelia said, knowing that deep, deep, down inside she wished, dreamed, and even prayed for Quadir to be for her. However, no matter how much she prayed and wished on one hundred four-leaf clovers, he wasn’t. And she knew in her heart that she deserved better. She deserved someone for her, someone who would be just for her.

Of course I need you, and of course I want you. And I have been blessed to have you in my life. But I need one hundred percent of you, you know, not half of you, because the other half is still somewhere in the past. Amelia caressed the side of his face. Maybe she should have spoken those words, but she didn’t, and she wasn’t going to. She’d rather he thought the opposite than know that she was truly and deeply brokenhearted.

“I really think that you need to go to her. You need to work everything out with her, and then if you’re sure, sure that your heart is free and you’re sure you want to be with me, then I’ll be here. But not like this. Not like this. Not with all this hanging over your head.”

“I love you,” he said as he leaned forward and kissed her on her cheek. “I owe you my life. I owe you more than words can express.”

“You owe me nothing, Quadir. The only person you owe is yourself. We get one shot at this game called life. One shot. And we have to take that one chance and live it to the fullest. Enjoy every fucking waking moment of it. Never let a sunrise go by without appreciating it and being thankful for a new day. Never walk by a pot of food without tasting it, and never walk by a flower without stopping to smell it.”

Quadir smiled and rose.

“You go and save Gena, you hear me? It’s the right thing to do.”

Quadir nodded.

“Wait a minute, before you go.” Amelia rose and rushed down the hall to her bedroom. She was gone for several moments before she returned. She handed Quadir a black.40-caliber Glock pistol and several loaded clips. “I know, I know. I’m a doctor, what the hell am I doing with that? Well, I’m also a single black woman living alone.”