Road to Love (Lessons in Love Book 1) Read online

  With a quick squeeze of my arm, she turned and moved back in the direction of the house, and I readjusted my headphones and resumed my run. By the time I’d made it back to Grace’s, I was in better spirits, which she noticed right away. When I jogged up, she and Tamia were sitting on the porch playing a game of Uno.

  “You look better,” she quipped as I plopped down on the lone chair empty chair on the porch.

  “I feel better. Hey! Guess who I ran into? You remember Charlene Kearns?”

  “Girl, why you pull out her full government name? Of course, I remember Charli! Lord, you, her and Rocki followed us around everywhere we went when y’all were growing up. Getting on all of our nerves,” Grace laughed.

  “A lie! SEGA loved the attention,” I shot back.

  “Between y’alls lil crew and that damn Tracey who y’all were determined to keep out of your little crew, y’all drove us insane! I always told Evie that she was so lucky to be an only child because at least when she went home, she got a break, the rest of us always had y’all to deal with,” Grace laughed, shaking her head, “What’s that Charli up to these days?”

  “Apparently becoming a small business owner. We got a chance to chat briefly. She’s bought and is in the process of renovating the Winterborne place.”

  “Shut up! What’s she going to do with that old place?”

  “Turning it into a B&B, we didn’t have a long time to chat because she was being pulled in a million different directions, but she invited me to hang out with her and Rocki later.”

  “Oh good! I’d always hated that you girls drifted apart, maybe this and your reunion will give y’all a chance to get the crew back together.”

  “I mean at the very least it’ll give me a diversion other than you and Mia for the night,” I replied.

  “Hey!” Tamia piped up, sounding low key offended.

  “No offense, Shug, but there are only so many teen dramas I can watch and dissect with you before I lose my mind,” I said, ruffling her hair.

  “Cold world, Tee.”

  That response made both Grace, and I laugh.

  “Anyway, I’m gonna take a shower and a nap before I head out to Charli’s later, so let me get to it,” I said, getting up from where I was seated and heading into the house.

  I was a little bit nervous walking up to Charli’s place. I don’t know why considering that I’d spent my childhood years attached by the hip to her and Rocki. We moved to Ragston when I was going to the second grade, and I met the girls on the first day of school. Since we were Jehovah’s Witnesses, I didn’t stand up for the pledge of allegiance and some kids were making fun of me about it. Rocki told them to shut up and mind their business and Charli let them know what would happen if they didn’t mind their business by grinding one fist into the palm of her other hand. I was intimidated, but little did I know that Char was a lover, not a fighter and was just imitating something she’d seen a bully do on TV to be intimidating. I laughed thinking of that memory, but from day one we clicked, becoming fast friends—friends I thought I’d have for life, honestly. I should have probably worked a little harder to ensure our friendships were maintained as we all moved to various places around the country for college, but this was before the modern internet we now used frequently. Time zones, varied schedules, and straight up busyness sadly led to the demise of our friendships.

  “You gonna stand out here all night or you coming in?” a voice teased.

  I looked up to see The Roxanne Malone as I now referred to her in my head. She’d come a long way from being little Rocki from Ragston, now a world-renowned actress and bonafide star. I tuned in to watch her shows and was a huge fan of her character on the hit show, Relationship Status, which had spun off into a couple of movies. Kellee and I had a standing Thursday night date to watch Relationship Status when it was on the air.

  “Ohmigosh Miss Malone can I have your autograph?” I squealed like a crazed fan.

  Rock just laughed before pulling me in for a hug.

  “It’s been too long, Bo Bemmy. Way too long,” she said as we parted, “Come on, Charli just opened a bottle of wine, so you have perfect timing.”

  I smiled at her use of the stupid nickname from that silly Name Game song that she'd given me despite my repeated protests. Shaking my head, I followed her deeper into the house, to the sitting room where Charli was pouring wine into a glass.

  “You've got perfect timing, chica!” Charli grinned, “We were just getting started.”

  It was like no time has passed between us at all as we sat around catching up on each other’s lives, which eventually devolved into us complaining about the current state of our love lives. All three of us had men in our lives currently giving us the blues, in various manners. I honestly didn’t even know why I was so…pressed about Roosevelt. It wasn’t like our little friendship could go anywhere anyway being half a country apart, but…I couldn’t deny that I’d started feeling a little…something for him. Before he messed it all up by being a jerk. Rocki and Charli thought I was trippin’ after I told them about what happened and showed them the ongoing stream of apology song videos he’d been sending daily.

  “Same ol’ Bemmy,” Rocki sang, “One strike and you’re out!”

  “Hey!” I protested, weakly, knowing she was closer to right than she was wrong.

  “It’s true,” Charli said, dragging a bell pepper through some hummus and popping it into her mouth.

  “Beyond misspeaking, what else has this man done for you to throw him out with the bathwater?” Rocki asked.

  “Is that not enough?”

  “So, the answer is nothing. Got it,” Charli laughed, “Man, the more things change, the more others remain the same.”

  And just like he knew I was talking about him, my phone buzzed with another message from Roosevelt. I groaned in frustration and tossed my phone onto the table without even opening it to see what it said. Rocki was on it though, grabbing my phone and opening the message. She reached over tapping me on the thigh to sit up and pay attention. It was yet another video, Roosevelt at a piano his phone clearly propped on the music stand as he began playing, then singing.

  “Operator, get my baby on the line…”

  “Oh, he ain’t playing fair,” Charli said, “He pulled out the Auntie ‘Nita on you?”

  Roosevelt’s modified lyrical version of Anita Baker’s “I Apologize” sounded beautiful and admittedly made me laugh a few times as he changed the lyrics to suit our situation. It was just a verse and chorus, so the video wasn’t very long, but Rocki ran it back a couple times and replayed.

  “Come on, sis! He sounds like this and looks like that?!” she trailed off, motioning to the still of the video in which Roosevelt looked finer than I even remembered him looking in real life. How is that even possible, I thought. He was rocking a lil scruff that made him look a different sort of ruggedly handsome. And all I could think about was feeling that beard between my palms...and between other places as well.

  “I mean…he seems sweet, and the man has an exhaustive list of apology songs memorized apparently if this fistful of videos you’ve told us about is any indication,” Charli laughed, “So what’s really the deal?”

  “There is no deal. I’m just…I…”

  “You’re mad he was right about you needing to end this blood feud with your dad, and you don’t like for people to tell you what to do because it reminds you too much of Mr. Parker. That’s the deal.”

  “Thanks, Dr. Malone,” I replied with an eye roll.

  Rocki paid me no mind as she got up to refill her glass with the last of the wine left in the bottle. She was too spot on though because that was precisely it. I hated just how right she was, actually, considering I’d been trying to figure out the trigger since we’d gotten into it and hadn’t been able to peg it as succinctly as Rock had in a mere ninety minutes of chitchat. My resolve had been steadily weakening, but I also felt stupid for overreacting, so at this point I was at a loss for what my
next step should be.

  “So, what are you gonna do, chica? Because eventually, he’s going to give up. And you’re going to be salty because you weren’t really ready for him to give up.”

  “I don’t know,” I whined, sounding all of five years old, “This is a lot. Too much.”

  “It’s not that much at all, actually,” Charli quipped, “You’re mountaining a molehill, beloved. Text that man and tell him all is forgiven and resume your…whatever y’alls thing was.”

  “Get it done,” Rocki said, handing me my phone, “Actually you need to call him and apologize to him for overreacting, really.”

  “Ooh, you do have a point there, Rocki!” Charli said, clinking her glass against Roxanne’s in cheers.

  They began chanting “Call him” over and over until I finally gave in and did just that.

  Despite my initial hesitation, I was actually having a lot of fun recording this EP. MaDear had purchased quite a bit of studio time, so I had been pretty much camped out in the space with Rich, the producer. He and I hit it off immediately after the first meeting and were able to come up with a theme for the EP within minutes of meeting each other. It was his idea to make an album of covers, not for commercial release, but to pay proper homage to the memory of MaDear. So, I came up with a list of eight songs that she loved to hear me sing and decided to play a bit with the melodies and arrangements to showcase my vocal range as well as provide a different spin on some classics. We'd recorded half of the songs so far, but I found myself spending a lot more time at the studio hanging out with Rich and getting to know some of the artists he was working with. He knew I wrote songs too and was always trying to get me to collab with his folks, but I told him I'd given up messing around with music on that side of things. I was more than content to record this lil EP and then, hopefully, find a local teaching gig.

  “You ready to record tonight's hit?” Nat asked, walking through the door and slapping hands with Rich.

  The two of them were having a little too much fun with my apology world tour, as they called it. I was about ready to give it up, honestly. I knew that Emerson was receiving the messages, shout out to read receipts, but she'd yet to respond to any, so I couldn't be sure that she wasn't close to serving me with a restraining order soon. It had only been four days since our little argument, but the radio silence on her end was killing me. At the very least she coulda hit me with the “nigga, lose my number”, but hadn't so far. According to Nat, this was a good sign because if she hadn't blocked me by now, maybe she was warming up to accepting my apologies. I wasn't quite sure Nat was right though; her relationship track record was a little shaky.

  “I think we should just cool it, Nat,” I replied.

  “What?! Noooooo! I had a good one lined up too!”

  “Well keep it in mind for the next time you fuck up with Kiki because my little apology world tour is now canceled.”

  “Ok but Cher has this really go—”

  “Cher? Nah, Nat, I definitely pulled the plug on this at just the right time,” I laughed.

  “I knew you would say that, so I had an alternate. How about 'My Stupid Mouth' by John Mayer? You gotta admit that's a good one...and apropos since your stupid mouth got you into this situation, right?”

  “Have I told you today how much you get on my nerves?”

  Natalie rolled her eyes and ignored me in favor of talking. Once she got a bug up her butt about something, she stopped at nothing to make the other person she was trying to convince capitulate. And just like every other time, I eventually folded and headed to the piano while Nat sat just off to the side to record me. I pulled out my phone to pull up the John Mayer track on YouTube to refresh myself with the melody before I flipped it for the piano. Just as the video was about to start, my phone rang—the name and face on the screen were the last I'd expected to see at this point.

  My “Hello?” was met with shuffling silence, so I repeated myself.

  I could faintly hear a voice in the background saying “Emmy, you know gotta say something right? We didn't tell you to call him to breathe on the phone like a creep.”

  “Hello? Emerson?”

  “H-hey, Roosevelt. Is this a bad time? If so I can just try to call you back later.”

  “No,” I said, getting up to leave the room in search of a more private space, “this is great timing, actually.”

  “Oh. Okay,” she replied.

  I walked toward Rich's office, peering inside and he was nowhere to be found, so I went in and closed the door behind me.

  “How've you been?” I asked, treading lightly, not wanting to say anything wrong.

  “Well, I've been well. And yourself?” she replied, which set off a round of giggles from whoever was in her background and another round of scolding.

  “Girl why are you talking to him like he's a bill collector! Just a minute ago you were damn near whining thinking he wouldn't answer your call and he gets on the phone, now you formal as hell! If you don't tell that man you're calling to accept all of his apologies and then tell him you were wrong too...”

  “Rocki, shut up!” Emerson hissed, “Hey, um...hold on a second Roosevelt. Let me...”

  I could hear shuffling, like she was moving around—possibly to get away from whoever Rocki was.

  “Sorry about that,” Emerson continued when she was settled, “So...how have you been?”

  “Truth? A little sad. Been a rough week.”

  “Yeah...”

  A few beats of silence passed before we both went to speak at the same time.

  “Emer—”

  “Roos—”

  “After you,” I said.

  “Roosevelt, I just...wanted to call and say I'm sorry for being a witch. I could tell you were still feeling a little raw, but I pressed on anyway and then had the nerve to get upset when I was served a bit of my own medicine.”

  “You were well within your own rights to be upset though, and I didn't have to go there. Especially since I know what it's like to be on the other side, you know?”

  “Will you just let me be apologetic and stop being so darn charming, man! Dang!” Emerson laughed, the sound sending a shot of joy straight through my chest.

  I joined in her laughter, chuckling as I responded, “My bad, sweetheart.”

  “Though, I should still be mad at you,” Emerson said.

  “What? Why is that?”

  “Because you were holding out on me. You told me that you taught music.”

  I laughed, “I am a music teacher.”

  “But not just a music teacher if those videos were any indication. Your voice is just...why aren't you famous? If Trey Songz can yodel his way into a contract, certainly there has to be a home for you in the music industry.”

  “You know that saying about those who can't, teach? More than just a notion.”

  “Nah,” Emerson countered, “I refuse to believe that. I reject that as your truth, Roosevelt. Your voice is really something special.”

  “So y'all say...”

  “When two or more agree, there's some merit to it. I'm just sayin'.”

  “Well the record industry didn't seem to think so,” I said, before explaining my experiences in LA tryna get a deal.

  “Oh, those people were foolish! Because my underwear was definitely drenched within watching thirty seconds of your first video,” Emerson paused, “Ohmygosh did I just say that aloud?”

  “You definitely did.”

  “I had wine.”

  “The wine gave you the courage to finally call or...?”

  “Nah, that would be my two former best friends. And them drilling into me about how stupid I was to hold a grudge against someone who could...” Emerson trailed off again.

  “Someone who could?”

  “Unimportant, let's move on.”

  “Nah let's go back to your drenched underwear...” I teased.

  “Ohmygosh Roosevelt, can you not?”

  “I'm just messing with you, sweetheart. So,
how's your time in Ragsdale? Sounds like a much-needed respite, you sound relaxed. Unless that's just the wine in your voice.”

  “It's Ragst...you know what it is, don't you? Are you just messing with me?”

  I said nothing, just chuckled.

  “My trip has been a little bit of both, actually,” Emerson chuckled, “Being back here has been good...mostly.”

  “Glad to hear it...but why mostly and not fully?”

  “Just some things I need to work out. Somebody got me thinkin' that maybe I need to face some of my demons and exorcise them.”

  “Is that right?”

  “Mmmhmmm. Has somebody given any more thought to exorcising his own though?”

  “And we were in such a good place,” I laughed, avoiding answering because I had none.

  Truthfully, I had given it a bit of thought but tried mostly putting it out of my mind. I focused on making the music, at least granting one of MaDear's posthumous wishes for my life. I wasn't entirely sure I could commit to the other.

  “Wow, really? That's how you do me now. Daaaaaang and here I thought we were at the start of something special.”

  “Oh snap, say anything Emerson is back?”

  “Blame it on the al-al-al-al-al-alcohol,” she half sang, half laughed.

  “Ooh, let's leave the singing to me.”

  “Hey!”

  “I'm kidding, beautiful.”

  “Whatever.”

  A knock sounded on the door before Rich stuck his head in, “Nigga you finna be cakin' all night or you ready to knock this track out?”

  “Relax, bruh. I'll be out in a minute,” I said to him, then to Emerson, “Hey, are you gonna be up for a while? Got a little business to handle, but I shouldn't be no more than a couple of hours.”

  “I should be up,” Emerson replied.

  “Aight, bet. I'll text before calling in case we go longer than anticipated.”

  “Sounds good. Talk to you later, Roosevelt.”

  “Talk to you later, Emerson.”

  I walked out of Rich's office to the studio to see that Kiki had pulled up and joined Rich and Nat in the studio. When I walked into the room all three of them stared at me with knowing grins.