“Don’t know.”
“I think we should send a copy to Angel,” I suggested.
“Definitely one of the plays we need to make. But I wanna talk to Tate and I want him to have a look at it. Sit tight, mama, I’ll call you.”
“I was going to go to the grocery store and, um… other stuff.” I didn’t elaborate because I was thinking Ty was not in the mood for a paint chip and new curtain discussion. “Do you need me to stay at home or close to town, just in case?”
“Close to town but you don’t gotta stay home. Do what you gotta do in town. The other stuff can hold. Yeah?”
“Yeah.”
He didn’t say anything and he also didn’t disconnect.
So I sat on my ass in the closet and asked quietly, “You okay?”
“This could be it.”
“Yeah, baby, this could be it,” I whispered.
“Toxic pu**y knew her number was up, spurred her finally to do right. Took that to finally make that bitch do right. Still, she did right. So I guess I can lose that sour taste in my mouth every time I remember I slid my c**k inside her.”
“Another bonus,” I muttered and heard him chuckle.
“And she’s dead and I’m alive and breathin’ and able to slide my c**k inside you.”
That got a couple of tingles but I ignored them and on another mutter said, “A bigger bonus.”
“Got that right, mama.”
I smiled at the phone.
Then I ordered, “Go, call Tate, let’s get the wheels of justice turning to clear my man’s name.”
“Right. Later, babe.”
“Later, honey.”
I heard him disconnect and I stared at the safe.
Then I got off my ass and hustled out of the closet, the bedroom and the house. I had groceries to buy, dessert to procure and then I had to get home so I could be available to get the wheels of justice turning to clear my man’s name.
* * * * *
The Charger growled through the development and I was riding high on a day that included the delivery of kickass Team Walker tees, a letter from beyond the grave from bitch-face Misty that exonerated my husband, the discovery and purchase of two bottles of not-cheap champagne I found at the liquor store and the fact that Shambles had an entire lemon poppy seed cake with drizzle icing and a thick layer of lemon cream frosting in the middle that I could buy to end the f**king fantastic celebration dinner I had planned.
So I did, I bought the whole cake.
But as I neared our house, I saw a beat up, rusted, old model SUV in our drive and leaning against the side sucking on a cigarette was a petite, older, white woman with shoulder-length hair that had a lot of frizz. At the end of the SUV and out in the street, for some reason staring up the hill into the wood, his back to me, was a very large, very tall black man.
Hearing my approach, he turned to face the Charger and I noticed he was older too though he only had a hint of white in his hair to indicate this and didn’t look near as old as the woman.
He also looked a lot like Ty.
Shit.
I pulled in beside them in the drive, feeling their eyes on me the entire time I parked, switched off my new baby, pulled out the keys and folded out of the car.
“Hey,” I greeted as I rounded the trunk, seeing they were still where they were when I drove up, woman against the SUV, man at the end. Firm distance between them.
He was still handsome, very. She was not. The skin on her face was hanging down in a weird way, lots of wrinkles and they looked like ripples of sags. The bottom lids of her eyes drooped a bit, exposing some pink. She needed an emergency visit to Dominic’s spa and not just for a facial. Her hair had a bad dye job and she’d chosen a weird shade of light brown that wasn’t all that attractive.
As I came to a stop on their side of my car, they were still staring at me but neither of them spoke.
I broke the silence. “Um, I’m guessing you’re Ty’s parents?”
The woman didn’t take her eyes off me when she sneered, “She’s guessin’ we’re Tyrell’s parents.”
Hmm. Seemed Ty’s Mom hadn’t softened with age.
She went on, “Two white girls hitched to black men in this county. Me with him,” she jerked her head to the man who was still hanging out at the end of the SUV, “and you and the black half of my son.”
The black half of my son.
I wasn’t really sure I liked how she put that.
“Well, um… I’m glad to meet you,” I said quietly.
“Well, um…” she parroted sarcastically then she leaned in, “you were glad to meet me, you wouldn’t a’ been in town with my boy for months without meetin’ me.”
I didn’t know what to do with this. Ty talked about them but all in the past. I let him talk and my questions were few as they always were, allowing him to share at his pace and not pushing. I didn’t actually know they still lived close.
Of course I couldn’t tell her that.
“We’ve been kinda busy.” And that wasn’t a lie.
Her eyebrows shot up. “Too busy to meet your man’s parents?”
“Well –” I started but she cut me off.
Looking me up and down, she said, “’Spect he hasn’t met your parents either and ‘spect it’s not for the same reason we haven’t met you.”
I read her inference and this was because it was hard to miss.
“Actually, my parents are both deceased so it would be difficult for Ty to meet them but if they weren’t and I’d actually met them before they died, which I didn’t, then he would have.”
Okay, so I was getting mad. I could feel the sass rising in me and I was trying hard not to throw it but unfortunately not succeeding.
At this point, Ty’s father moved forward.
“I’m Irving Walker. Irv,” he told me as he got close then his hand extended.
I tipped my head back to look at him and saw he wore an expression that held some curiosity, some uncertainty and not a small amount of cautious warmth.
Therefore I took his hand, squeezed it and introduced myself, “Alexa. Alexa Walker. Everyone calls me Lexie.”
He smiled and his smile was near as beautiful as his son’s.
Then he released my hand and jerked his head down and to the side to indicate the woman.
“This is Ty’s Ma, Reece.”
I looked to her, decided to make an attempt at civility and extended my hand. “Hello, Reece.”
She held my eyes then hers dropped to my hand then they came back to mine. Then she lifted her cigarette to her mouth, wrapped her lips around it in a weird way where it looked like half the tip was between her lips, she sucked deep and all her sags contracted in a highly unattractive way then she let the cigarette go on a sucking noise and blew out an enormous plume of smoke. It was so enormous I dropped my hand and took a step away so as not to get caught in its fog. Surprisingly, so did Irv.