Full Figured 14, page 15
I was about to go and take my seat, but Emory stopped me and pulled me to the side. “Brooke, wait a sec. I got something to show you.”
“What? Now? You just told us to sit down.” I frowned. “People are hungry, and so am I.”
“They’ll be okay, and so will you,” she said, taking me by the arm and leading me out the door. Once we were outside the room, she turned me so I was facing her. “Look at me. I have a surprise for you.”
“What is it?” I asked.
“I love you, and I’m proud of you. You are my best friend, and so I did something for you.”
“What the hell did you do?” I was becoming more and more anxious by the second.
She turned my body slowly around, and suddenly I was standing face-to-face with Taurus. I simply stared at him. I sucked air slowly, as seeing him nearly took my breath away. I couldn’t speak or move and was relieved when he spoke first.
“Hey, Brooke.” His voice sounded like music to my ears. I’d been longing to hear it for so long.
“Taurus,” I said, resisting the urge to rush over and hug him.
“I’ll leave you two alone to catch up,” Emory blurted, then rushed off and back through the door to the private dining room.
“It’s great to see you. These are for you.” He held out the dozen roses I hadn’t even noticed he had been holding.
“Thank you. How?” I said. “I mean, how did she . . . ?”
“She literally showed up at my door a couple of nights ago.” He shook his head as he shrugged. “She’s a good friend.”
“She is.” I smiled at him. “The best.”
“Anyway, after forcing herself into my crib, which, by the way she thought looked amazing, she kinda talked to me for a while, then demanded that I come tonight. I was too afraid to decline the invitation. She’s kind of aggressive to be as short as she is.” He smiled.
“She is,” I agreed. “But how the hell did she know where you lived?”
“Apparently, you sent her your location the night you came home with me from the Sky Bar. She used it to find me.”
“Damn, I love my bestie.” I sighed. “Well, I’m glad she invited you.”
“I am too.” He nodded. “So, how’ve you been?”
“You don’t want to know.” I shook my head, then looked up at him. “I tried calling you a couple of times but couldn’t get through.”
“I figured you did. I kinda needed a moment to process,” he explained.
“I understand. And I apologize for what I did. I put you in a situation that you didn’t have to be in, and it all could’ve been avoided if I had just said something the moment I knew.” I finally gave him the apology I’d been holding on to for over a month.
“I’m glad you recognize that, and I accept your apology. And I’ve really missed you.”
Hearing him say that made my heart swell with happiness. “I’ve definitely missed you too.”
“How are things between you and your sister?”
“They’re actually good. She needed some time, just like you did. But we’re good now.”
“And your mom? I was so embarrassed to meet her like that.” He exhaled and rubbed the back of his head.
“She’s fine.” I laughed. “And there was no need to be embarrassed. I think all the other stuff that went on that day kinda overshadowed the fact that you were in my bedroom.”
“That makes sense.” He smirked. “Well, should we go inside? I’m sure your guests are wondering where you are.”
“We can, but, Taurus, I do wanna say one more thing before we go in,” I said.
“What’s that?”
“Brittany kind of said some stuff about my private life, and I just want you to know that she kinda wasn’t lying, but none of that happened after I met you.” I swallowed the lump in my throat and continued. “Even the whole Brandon thing. And he’s inside the dining room too.”
“Brooke, everybody has a past, and I’m not concerned with any of what she said. None of that matters, for real.” He gave me a look that let me know that he still felt like I was the most beautiful woman in the world.
“So, we’re good?” I whispered.
He stepped closer, cupped my face with his hands, and the slow kiss he gave me let me know that we were better than good. I wrapped my arms around his neck, nearly dropping the flowers, and became lost in the moment.
Emory opened the dining-room door and peeked out. “Oh God. Can you two please take a breather and get in here?”
Taurus smiled as he took me by the hand. Then he led me back to the party. And I embraced the same feeling of complete happiness that I had had the night he slept beside me in my bed. Finally, I was excited about being attached.
Illusions of Love
by
Latoya Chandler
CHAPTER ONE
Can you imagine seeing a child being pulled into a car by a stranger in the middle of the day? It would probably take you a moment to realize what you were actually witnessing. Many of us have played over and over in our minds how we’d react and what we would do if we were to witness such a horrific and gut-wrenching crime. Disbelief, along with a sense of devastating failure, would fill us. Especially if it was our own child, our only child, that was abducted. Now imagine if it happened on your wedding day.
The moment she learned of the abductions that had been taking place in her neighborhood of Williamsburg, Brooklyn, Eboneé had begun replaying in her mind the actions she’d take if she witnessed such horror. Since she was a mom, she was especially tormented by the fact that child abductors had struck so close to home. Emani was her heartbeat in human form, and that fact alone forced Eboneé to stay on alert. Eboneé had obsessed so much about the kidnappings that she and her fiancé, Kasim, had implemented precautionary measures to try to ease her mind. Such as being sure to avoid taking the same route to and from home. They’d even gone as far as explaining to little Emani the difference between family and strangers. They’d told her that any and everyone outside of their immediate circle was a stranger, and they’d drilled into her the importance of staying close to her parents and never talking to strangers.
Despite all the measures that had been put in place to protect her child, fear immobilized Eboneé when she graced the steps of St. Mary’s Cathedral on her wedding day. What was supposed to be the happiest day of her life was about to turn into her worst living nightmare. Emani, who had been glued to Eboneé’s side the entire morning, while she and her wedding party scurried around in anticipation of the ceremony, suddenly wasn’t anywhere in sight. Eboneé felt panic rush her and swallow her whole as she whipped her head from left to right, in search of Emani. Though she had not uttered a word, members of Eboneé’s bridal party picked up on her fear, and when they realized one by one that Emani was no longer standing with the other two flower girls, they all became alarmed. They all began scampering about, searching for the little girl. And the more everyone raced around frantically, the higher Eboneé’s pulse went.
Eboneé turned around to try to retrace her steps and couldn’t believe her eyes. She saw something her mind would never be able to erase: Emani was standing alone by the curb, and within the blink of an eye, she was snatched from where she stood and shoved into a black truck. Adrenaline shot through Eboneé’s veins. Nonetheless, she was stuck in place; she couldn’t move a single muscle. All her breath had been snatched from her lungs. Her heart pounded inside her chest. A choked cry forced itself up her throat when Kasim came running to her side after deserting his post at the altar upon being alerted about Emani’s absence.
“Eb-Eboneé, wh-what happened to Emani?” he asked, his words colliding. His face showed his distress.
“Some . . . abla . . . tr-tru . . . ,” she stammered, making no sense at all.
“Eboneé, snap out of it. Where is my daughter? Where is Emani?” Kasim’s words were shrill and deafening. His eyebrows curled inward as his eyes widened with grief. When his eyes closed, teardrops slowly ran down his face.
More fear rose in Eboneé’s eyes as the realization that her daughter had been abducted seeped in deeper. A chill shot down her spine, causing her to shudder, and she stood there helplessly, not knowing what to do and feeling too scared to think.
“Someone, please call—” Kasim swallowed the rest of his words when he heard the sound of approaching sirens.
“They’re en route. I—I called them on my way to get you out of the church,” announced Parish, Eboneé’s longtime friend and her maid of honor.
When the patrol cars pulled up, a wave of nausea hit Eboneé. Police officers made the kidnapping real, and that terrorized her. She couldn’t deny what had taken place. She hadn’t been dreaming. Her baby girl was gone. The more this reality became undeniable, the more her stomach contracted violently, forcing everything up and out. The world around Eboneé spun out of control.
She seesawed, pitched forward, sank to her knees, and wailed, “Please, God. Please bring our baby back to us!”
* * *
At the close of the two-and-a-half-hour-long interrogation conducted by the detectives covering Emani’s case, Kasim and Eboneé were at odds with one another. Eboneé was both distraught and boiling on the inside. It was difficult for her to understand why the detectives weren’t out looking for Emani instead of grilling her, Kasim, and their wedding party. Kasim disagreed with the line of questioning and also felt the detectives weren’t doing their jobs. He didn’t want to think the worst and told himself Emani would be returned to them safe and sound. On the other hand, he just couldn’t banish the numb and empty feeling that had overtaken him. It was the same as one felt following the death of a loved one. And the more Kasim thought about the situation, the more his anger intensified. He felt a vexation that he’d never thought he’d feel, especially toward Eboneé. Even the sound of her voice infuriated him. The woman he’d worshiped the instant he laid eyes on her was no longer perfect or desirable. Each time she spoke, Kasim snapped at her.
“Why would God do this to us, Kasim? We’re good people. Why would He let this happen to our baby?” Eboneé cried as they stood in the living room of their house after the interrogation. She dropped to her knees and sobbed, unable to control her pain and fear.
Tears burned Kasim’s eyes, and his lip trembled. “God, Eboneé? God? How dare you blame Him! This is your fault. Instead of being happy with the way He made you, you went and lost weight. Lean women aren’t strong enough to take care of children.”
“My fault? You’re not making any sense, Kasim. I know you’re upset, but you cannot blame me. Losing a few pounds has nothing to do with what happened to our child.”
“It has everything to do with it. You were worried about all the wrong things, and because of it, our child is God knows where.” Raw anger shot through him.
The rage in Kasim’s voice said more than the words that spewed out of his mouth. Eboneé understood that he was hurt and that he was scared for Emani. He wasn’t alone. She was there with him, suffering from the same pain. However, the fact that he had placed the blame on her severed the remaining piece of her heart that she had left. She couldn’t understand any of it. His accusations and his vexation frightened her. That wasn’t her Kasim. Her fiancé, the man she had taken the time to know and love, wasn’t standing in front of her. In the past, no matter the situation or problem that presented itself, the Kasim she knew had always been by her side and on her side, and they’d fumbled through whatever it was together. This person before her now was unfamiliar to her. Her Kasim, the man she loved and adored, had stressed time and time again that the blame game was nothing more than verbal vomit, and that individuals who played that game were narcissistic. They got off on engaging in a lot of all-or-nothing thinking and pointing finger at others.
Their daughter, Emani, whom they’d had difficulty conceiving, was gone, and Kasim, in turn, was blaming Eboneé for her disappearance. It pained Eboneé deeply. The two people that she couldn’t live without had been taken from her on the very same day. Her wedding day. Emani was gone physically; Kasim had left her emotionally and mentally. From those thoughts alone, Eboneé felt sharp pains pierce her head. Images of Emani flashed in front of her eyes, and she felt like her whole body was being beaten.
“God, please bring our baby back safe and sound. If this is a dream, please deliver us from this nightmare,” she cried, feeling as if her brain was being ground from the inside out. Heartache gushed out of her every pore.
“And if she doesn’t return, neither will I,” Kasim stormed. Then he stalked out of the living room and slammed the door behind him.
Eboneé shuddered as the door slammed shut. The sound echoed through their home, as loud as the cracking of a whip, stinging her insides. She hadn’t ever seen Kasim in this state. She chalked it up to the tragic circumstances they found themselves in, and she tried to persuade herself that he had no control over his state of mind, that he was powerless. However, his actions directed at her made it difficult for her to sympathize with him. His eyes were narrowed and cold when he looked at her, and when she gazed in them, she saw a deadness and a stillness, which made her teeth chatter. He no longer sounded like her husband-to-be. Each word he uttered cut her like a razor blade, sharp and cold.
Kasim’s voice was one of the attributes that she had always loved about him and that had made him irresistible to her. When they first met, his words, spoken softly, had reached her heart and had stopped her in her tracks. But the man who had just stomped out of the room was unattractive, and she despised the sound of his voice in that moment. Her Kasim would have stayed. He would have wept with her. He would not have raised his voice or walked out in the middle of it all.
* * *
Kasim and Eboneé first met during the speed networking event she held for her fledgling fashion business. At the very beginning of her career, Eboneé was a BBW Christian stylist, and after taking a few career detours, she pursued her dream and launched her own fashion business, B&S Styles, which stood for Bold and Sexy Styles. B&S Styles was an expression of Eboneé’s love for fashion. The seed for the business was planted during a simple conversation that Eboneé had with a coworker at her job. That coworker would be her first client.
Eboneé had grown up with extra weight on her frame, and then she’d become chubby, according to society’s standards. The older she’d got, the more overweight she’d become. No matter what size she was, she’d make sure to keep herself up and live her life, ignoring the saying “She’s pretty for a big girl.” That saying had always nauseated her. Despite the standards set by society, Eboneé had known from a young age that she was worth being seen, heard, and appreciated just as much as any other person. No matter how much thinner he or she might be. Her nana Mae had raised her and had drilled into her head that beauty didn’t have a size. Beauty came in all sizes. Race was a nonfactor when it came to beauty, as was nationality. Eboneé had fashioned her life around Nana Mae’s beliefs about beauty. Hence, she’d been drawn to fashion early on.
Eboneé felt women should dress according to their body type, and she did just that. No matter the occasion, whether it was her morning stroll, a girls’ night, or a gala, she dressed her best, and she frequently received compliments as well as double takes.
At five foot six and about 250 pounds, Eboneé always presented herself in all her full-figured glory. People noticed her beautiful skin as much as her frame, for she looked as if she had been dipped in freshly made deep brown caramel. Her skin tone accentuated her straight nose, her slightly flared nostrils, and her rather full lips, which were quick to turn into a smile. In terms of her height and weight, she was pretty much identical to her best friend, Parish. Their looks diverged when it came to skin tone: Parish was a darker version of Eboneé.
However, they were opposite in terms of their beliefs and their self-esteem, or at least they were when they first met while working at the local children’s hospital. Parish had always been uncomfortable in her skin. But meeting Eboneé in the workplace changed her entire perception of herself. On day one, they didn’t gravitate toward one another. However, after some time, they befriended one another, and Eboneé gave Parish encouragement, which enabled Parish to see a side of herself that she’d never seen before. Parish found her own beauty, which had been hidden for most of her adult life. Eboneé convinced Parish to attend counseling in order for her to love everything about herself, no matter her size. To fall in love with the woman that God had created her to be.
Parish was the wife of a local preacher. And she had an amazing voice. Soon after she met Eboneé, she was asked to sing as a guest soloist on a gospel album, and Eboneé encouraged her to pursue it. The album was a success, and soon multiple record labels were seeking out her angelic voice. After careful consideration, she and Kwame decided on the direction in which to take Parish’s singing career, and she signed a contract with a prestigious record label. Realizing that she’d now have to spend a lot of time in the public eye, Parish consulted with Eboneé and hired her as her personal stylist and assistant.
Eboneé transformed Parish into a whole new woman. Under Eboneé’s direction, Parish went from wearing cardigans paired with denim skirts that hung past her ankles and ballerina flats to donning pencil and A-line skirts, wraparound dresses, tunic tops, blazers, jeans, slacks, and heels. And that transformation was the beginning of what Eboneé then called the Pastors’ Wives Club. Because of Parish’s 180-degree fashion turnaround, pastors’ wives from churches with which Parish and her husband fellowshipped inquired about her makeover. She told them all about Eboneé, and they sought her out.
Eboneé’s clientele instantly quadrupled, affording her the opportunity to resign from her job as a verification coordinator at the children’s hospital. Parish tendered her resignation too. It was a huge hit for the department to lose both of them at the same time. However, their new ventures were a dream come true for both of them. Without question, all new ventures were accompanied by a backlash, and it manifested the moment the public and church folk got a glimpse of Parish’s promotional photo for the record label’s promo ad.
