PullMyHair Page 7

  But, she was a functioning drunk for the most part, as it had become a normal part of who she was. She was able to work some of the time, attend functions that were job related. But because work wasn’t steady, she and Liza had been on public assistance throughout most of Liza’s life as a child.

  Her mother had never attended any functions as Liza was growing up. For that, Liza had turned to Karina and her family. She could always rely on Karina’s Big Momma and mother to come and see her in plays and recitals that every child looked forward to having a parent attend. Edna would claim she had a headache from working, or would simply coldly reject the possibility that she would come with little or no explanation.

  At times like that, Liza would imagine that she had a father who was far away. A father who, for a variety of made-up reasons that only a child could come up with, couldn’t rescue her from her mother.

  But, had he been able to, not only would he have taken her away, neither would he’d miss her recital for anything in the world. And like Karina’s grandmother and mother, he would be there with a small bouquet of flowers just for her at the end of the recitals.

  Liza continued to run around the track, wiping her face, ignoring the fact that it wasn’t only sweat that she wiped from her flushed cheeks. She ignored the fact that the burning sting in her eyes had nothing to do with the exertion from her run, but instead had everything to do with her trip down memory lane.

  As she ran, she picked up speed, pushing herself to the limit, unconsciously trying her damnedest to outrun the ugly ghosts from her past.

  Chapter Eight

  “That went well, don’t you think?” Greg held the revolving door open for Renita, as they left the courthouse. They both put on sunglasses as the bright afternoon sun shone brightly on their faces. It was spring and although the sun was out, there was still the smallest nip in the air to signify that the time for shorts and t-shirts was still a bit of a way off.

  “I was quite surprised at the ease with which opposing council agreed with most of our selections,” Renita agreed, referring to the jury selection process for their upcoming trial. She pulled the light jacket she wore over her navy blue suit closer around her body to ward off the chill from the spring day.

  “Yes, so was I. I thought for sure that we’d be there the whole day. It’s just past noon,” he said after a quick glance down at his watch. As they continued to walk, Greg glanced down at his paralegal and hid a smile.

  Renita was so formal in her speech and dress. She was the ultimate professional from the top of her close-cropped curly hair, to the soles of her dark blue, pumps. He knew they were Prada’s because Liza owned at least a dozen pair of the designer’s shoes. If nothing else he’d learned of his wife’s utter fascination and love of designer footwear after seven years of marriage.

  It was too bad that he’d recently realized he was lacking more vital information. Information that was much more important than her obsession with shoes.

  He thought of how little he’d actually known about his wife’s life. Any real knowledge that he had of who she was before they were married began at the age of eighteen. She shared brief information about anything before that time. He was clueless about what her life had been like, truly.

  That was until a week ago, before he’d received the strange call from Liza’s mother. Within moments of his surprise to hear from his wife’s estranged mother, he’d been left stunned after she’d asked him for money before preceding to go into details about how hard it had been to raise Liza single and alone, and how nice it was that Liza didn’t have to worry about working and trying to raise a child all alone.

  “You’re right, it is lunchtime. I know of a really nice lunch counter just a few blocks south of Hub. Would you like to go?” she asked. Hub Street ran throughout the entire large city.

  Greg glanced once again at his watch and debated calling Liza. She’d asked him that morning if they could have lunch, and at the time he hadn’t thought that he’d have the time. It had been almost a relief to tell her no.

  “That sounds good, Renita. I’ll need to call Liza first. Let’s go.” he said and they walked briskly to his vehicle parked in the front of the courthouse. After he helped her inside the passenger side, he jogged to the driver’s side and folded his long frame inside.

  He placed a call to Liza and caught her on her cell phone. She was in the process of dressing and he could tell she was ticked when he said he couldn’t make lunch. He felt a small tinge of guilt, but brushed it away.

  As Greg maneuvered through the congested downtown streets on the way to the cafeteria, he put the call out his mind, as he and Renita strategized about the jury make-up and which ones they felt would be more sympathetic to their client. Renita, as usual, had helped to select the most sympathetic females. She had a knack for discerning which potential female jury members were more inclined to be sympathetic.

  “The prenup clearly states that if Mr. Grimes is able to prove his wife has cheated on him, than all financial arrangements are null and void,” Renita said as they entered the bright cafeteria.

  “Yes, but we have to prove that first. So far, our detective hasn’t come up with anything to prove she’s been anything else but chaste and true to her husband,” Greg agreed as he removed her coat and they both eased into the red leather booth.

  The café was decorated in a retro fifties style, complete with roller skating waitresses. Okay, so that was a bit over the top, Greg thought, but Renita swore the food was great.

  Yes, Greg thought again to himself, a bit over the top. He then turned his attention back to the case.

  “The damnedest thing, is that I know Melissa Grimes has been cheating. I don’t understand how the detective is missing it.”

  He didn’t bother to excuse his language or try and clean it up. Renita was used to his manner of speech and despite her outward appearance of being strait laced; he’d once overheard her use language to some guy on the phone that made him blush. He’d kept that information to himself when he’d heard her cursing and quietly left the room without her knowing he’d been there.

  “No doubt, she is. Maybe it’s time to look for another agency. You haven’t been satisfied with this new agency anyway. Not since Gaynor…Mr. Holt left,” she reminded him. Greg glanced up sharply at her when he noted the slight emphasis she placed on the former agency employee’s name before she corrected herself and referred to him by his last name.

  The firm had utilized the services of the Tyson Detective Agency for years, with no complaints from anyone, as the agency had a solid reputation for procuring the information the lawyers needed to help strengthen the case they were working. Greg had dealt only with Gaynor or his brother Jayden, until the men had broken away from the agency to found their own firm. He’d not been as pleased with his newest detective’s results so far.

  As he glanced over at his assistant’s beautiful, but placid features, he thought he saw something flash in her eyes as she spoke Gaynor’s name. “Have you heard from him since he left the firm?” he felt compelled to ask and silently confirmed what he thought he saw. There was something there.

  “Why would I have spoken with Mr. Holt?” she asked without any change in her low voice.

  The waitress skated over, tottering on her skates and almost landed the platter in Greg’s lap before he helped her regain her balance. “Whoa! Here, let me take that,” he offered, removing the drinks from the platter before he helped the woman place the plates on the table.

  The waitress’ cheeks, already red from the exertion of skating, turned even redder as she thanked him before she left the two of them to eat their lunch.

  “No reason. You had more contact with him than I did. I thought perhaps you’d heard from him,” he explained, picking up the thread of the conversation before the waitress delivered their lunch.

  She took a delicate bite of the veggie sandwich and chewed thoughtfully, before carefully swallowing. Greg took a healthy bite of his corned be
ef, waiting for her to speak. As he waited, he glanced at her lunch and as usual, wondered how she stomached eating nothing but vegetables and tofu as she was a practicing vegetarian. She took a small sip of her tea before answering.

  “No. I haven’t heard from Mr. Holt,” was all she said, but Greg knew she wasn’t telling the truth. Obviously, she didn’t want him to know something and the flush that ran underneath her bronze cheeks gave witness to her embarrassment. He left it alone. It was none of his business anyway.

  “But, if the firm is in agreement, I could contact him if you were interested in procuring his services for this case.”

  “That shouldn’t be an issue. I’ll let the partners know and then I can alert Grimes. If we have to go with another detective, he has to agree to foot the bill.”

  “That will be fine, Greg. As soon as you let me know, I’ll contact Mr. Holt.”

  They finished eating their lunch in companionable silence sprinkled with occasional conversation. When they’d finished eating, Greg signaled the roller skating waitress over to bring him the bill. After signing the slip, he glanced at his watch.

  “I’m going to try and leave the office earlier this evening, hopefully, around six or so. I can do a lot of the paperwork at home. I’ll contact the partners when we get back to the office and give them a heads-up and then you can contact the Holt brothers about securing their services. Feel free to go home, Renita, anytime after that. We have an early day again tomorrow. I’m sure anything you have can wait until then. You’ve been working long hours as I have. Take the evening off. I need to get home to Liza as soon as I can.”

  “Thanks for the offer, but I think I’ll hang around, I have some paperwork to organize. And if you need me, you know where to find me,” she said as she sipped her cola. “May I ask you a personal question, Greg?” she asked, and surprised, Greg quickly glanced up at her face.

  “Of course, Renita. Shoot,” he said.

  “Are you and Mrs. Colburn having problems?” she asked, taking her eyes off him, suddenly caught up in picking at what appeared to be imaginary lint from her dark blue jacket.

  For a minute, Greg was tempted to deny any problems he and Liza were having. He’d never discussed his wife or his marriage with Renita. He had several friends who he’d had since college, but he’d always tended to keep to himself and had never felt comfortable discussing his marriage with any of them.

  “Why do you ask? What concern is that of yours?” he asked her bluntly.

  “I’m sorry, that was rude of me to ask. It’s none of my business,” she said and rose as though to leave the table.

  Greg reached a hand out to forestall her standing. She glanced from her hand to his and a dark flush, once again, stained her cheeks. The look she threw him was unsettling and he slowly removed his hand from hers. “Please, sit down.”

  She hesitated, as though unsure. Greg didn’t know what was happening, but he felt as though something else was going on other than the obvious. There were undercurrents occurring that hadn’t been there minutes before.

  Renita slowly sat back down in the bench and looked at him with an expectant expression settling across her face.

  “I’m a little touchy about the subject of marriage, if you want to know the truth. Renita, you didn’t do anything wrong. We’ve known each other long enough for me to know that,” he apologized.

  “Is it anything that you can talk about?” she ventured to ask.

  “It’s a long story. Much longer and complicated than even I knew until recently.” He confessed. He knew his answer was ambiguous at best, but his confusion and anger over the situation was still too raw for him to hide.

  “You don’t have to talk about it,” Renita assured him.

  Greg was silent as he thought about the complicated situation with his wife. He and Renita had never spoken about personal matters, but he needed to talk with someone. Maybe as a female, she’d be able to shed light on the subject. God only knew, he was confused as hell.

  “A week ago my wife’s mother called me.”

  She looked at him expectantly, waiting for him to go on.

  “It wouldn’t be so strange an occurrence, I guess, had I’d ever spoken to her before. But, I’ve never seen her, much less spoken on the phone with her.”

  “Did she want anything in particular?” she asked.

  “Aside from the fact that she was asking to borrow several thousand dollars?” he asked and laughed humorously. “Not much, except to tell me things about my wife that I had no idea of. Things that Liza should have disclosed to me a long time ago. I feel as though I don’t really know who my wife truly is,” he said grimly.

  Chapter Nine

  Liza allowed the warm, gentle spray from the shower to cascade over her body. She raised her arms, her small breasts lifting high as she ran her fingers over her hair, smoothing the short, wet strands away from her forehead.

  Since she’d cut her hair, she’d experienced a liberation she never had before. Although she wasn’t quite ready to go au natural as her friend Karina had done, not ready to give up the ease and manageability the relaxer gave her, she liked not spending hours combing, detangling, deep conditioning, blow drying, hot iron…the whole styling madness she went through once a week at her favorite salon.

  Although, according to Karina, being natural, sans chemicals of any type wasn’t difficult at all. Liza was honest enough to admit that she had a ways to go before she was prepared to entertain the thought of allowing her natural kink free rein.

  Life was a process, a journey. At least that’s what Karina’s Big Momma used to always say, Liza thought with a melancholy smile as she thought of Karina’s grandmother. She really missed Big Momma, although she wasn’t her grandmother, Liza had always felt connected to the older woman. She’d always welcomed Liza, helping her to feel as though she were apart of the family.

  Liza leisurely finished washing her body and stepped out of the glassed-in shower and wrapped her naked body in the overlarge plush towel. She grabbed the matching hand towel and gently dried her hair before wrapping it, turban-style around her head. Just as she folded the corner of the towel inside, she heard her cell phone ring and rushed over to answer it.

  “Hello.”

  “Hi, sweetheart, it’s me.” Greg said in his deep voice.

  The sound of his voice had her heart racing. After seven years he still had the same effect on her. She glanced at the clock and realized it was lunchtime. With a smile on her face, she held the small receiver between her ear and shoulder as she whipped off the towel and sat on the bed, lotion bottle in hand.

  “Look baby, I’m sorry. But I’m not going to be able to meet you for lunch. I still have work to do and can’t see my way out of it for the next few hours.” She felt the smile fall off her face at his words.

  Damn it. She should have known better than to get all excited. No doubt he and Renita would have a cozy little lunch together in his office as they worked side by side.

  She couldn’t stand Renita’s placid acting ass. Always so damn calm and bland looking. Work be damned, Liza knew the woman wanted her husband. She was two seconds away from saying something really ugly, but held herself in check at the last minute.

  “I understand, Greg. Maybe another time,” she said instead, taking the high road. It wasn’t Renita’s fault anyway. It was just easier to place the blame anywhere but where it truly lay. Liza wasn’t quite sure where that was at the present time.

  “I’m going to get home early. Would you like to go out to dinner?” he asked and Liza brightened.

  She agreed, her spirits lifted, although there was something in his voice that she didn’t like or understand. It was the same something that had been there for the last week whenever they talked.

  Before they hung up the phone, they agreed on a time and place. Liza was happy when he suggested they meet at Rigby’s as they had a dance floor and live band several nights a week. It had been a long time since she and Greg had gone o
ut dancing. It lightened her heart, eased the burden she’d had in it since their parting earlier in the morning.

  Liza placed her cell phone back on the beside table before picking the bottle of lotion back up to begin to anoint her arms slowly, her thoughts, as they had been over the last few weeks, centered not only on her marriage, but on her past. Maybe it was time she faced her past as Karina was constantly telling her she needed to do. She didn’t realize the impact not sharing her life history before the age of eighteen was having on her marriage.

  At least, not cognitively.

  But on a subconscious level, she knew that Greg deserved to know everything about her. The good and bad.

  It wasn’t as though she was a part of a traveling pack of bank robbers for heaven’s sake. She had nothing to be ashamed of, she had no culpability in the way she had been raised, she’d only been a child. Yet, she’d always felt a strange responsibility for the life that she and her mother had lived. As though, had it not been for her, her mother wouldn’t have been on welfare.

  Or a functioning alcoholic.

  With a heavy sigh, she was rising from the bed when her cell phone rang again. She quickly lifted it, pressing the talk button and stemmed her disappointment when Catherine, one of her friends from the club chirped a hello at her.

  Catherine called to invite Liza to a late lunch with a few of the other members of their set and Liza forced a cheery note into her voice as she agreed to meet the women at the social club, before pressing end on her receiver.

  She walked to the bathroom and absentmindedly studied the array of cosmetics that lined her vanity before she popped open the case to her powder-to-cream foundation and carefully smoothed it over her face. As she smoothed the makeup on, she studied her face in the large, gold- framed mirror.