Two Steps Back Read online

  Johnny let out a rush of air. “I’m in a hotel, you know. I’m at the Hoxton and I hate it. I feel like I’m living in a box.”

  Jaylah smiled, pleased Johnny heeded her warning to move out of his house without putting up a fight or plying her with excuses. She made a mental note to call the hotel and ask them to ring his room—she had to be sure; she couldn’t just rely on his word, could she? Not when he neglected to tell her about his wife until she was already in way too deep.

  “Then you better find an apartment quickly.”

  “I wanted to talk to you about that. I was thinking that maybe I should hold off on finding a place until you get back. We can look for one together.”

  “I already have an apartment, Johnny.”

  “I know, babes, but it’s not really big enough for three people.”

  “Three people?” Jaylah scrunched up her face.

  “You, me, and the baby.”

  Jaylah sucked her teeth. “Johnny, don’t start.”

  He ignored her protests. “We might even be able to buy a flat right there in Highbury Stadium. I spoke with an agent and they’ve got some open units. You like that neighborhood, yeah?”

  “I do, but it’s super expensive and I can’t afford to buy anything right now. I just got a permanent job for Christ's sake. I can barely make the rent on my own flat.”

  “I’m not asking you to pay for anything, Jay, I can handle it,” he said in the same tone superheroes use before striding into a burning building to rescues the screaming, but insanely beautiful, woman trapped on the top floor.

  Jaylah wondered what letting Johnny rescue her would feel like. Would she have to give up her dreams in exchange for a comfortable life? Did she even want him to swoop in and save her from this mess (that he helped create) or did she want to flex her own muscles and save herself?

  “Listen,” he said, snapping her out of her thoughts, “just think about it, okay? I’m going into a tunnel. I’ll call you back in a few, babes. Love you.”

  I love you too failed to escape her lips but Jaylah felt it spreading through her body like a gentle nudge pushing her to surrender. Six days—the amount of time it had taken her to become completely obsessed with the gorgeous Ghanaian man she met on the dance floor of the Mau Mau bar. Six nerve-wracking days, and a ride on the London Eye was all it took for her to fall—hard.

  Five months had passed since the night Johnny entered her life, but it had felt like five years. Their relationship—so hurried, so intense, so anything unlike she’d ever experienced before—had resulted in an unexplainable bond that could only be described in clichés. Love at first sight. Soul mates. Better halves. Kismet.

  Pick one.

  What Jaylah felt for Johnny did not make any sense. But the day he showed up on her doorstep and found out she was carrying his child, she stopped trying to figure it all out.

  Before Jaylah gave in to the tide of emotions she Googled the number for the Hoxton and rang the front desk—just in case.

  “Hello, I’m calling for one of your guests, Mr. Jonathan Poku,” she told the clerk. “P-O-K-U.“

  “Okay ma’am, give me a moment to check,” the cheerful woman said. Jaylah listened as the woman’s fingernails clicked rapidly on the other end of the line and she kicked herself for being one of those women. The needy, distrustful kind who filed away every bit of information their man ever told them so it could be verified later.

  She didn’t want to become one of those women, but Johnny had not given her much of a choice. She had to be sure he was telling her the truth. She had to be sure he wasn’t trying to have his wife and Jaylah on the side.

  She couldn’t just take his word for it, right? Not now at least. Not with her whole life on the line, and not until she was sure that this thing was actually for real and not just a temporary blip, or an itch he needed to scratch before running home to Fiona.

  Jaylah hated herself for becoming a stereotype—the snooping, suspicious woman—but she hated Johnny for planting these thoughts in her head in the first place. Although he’d been straight up with her since coming clean about his wife, she found it hard to believe everything he said without giving it careful consideration, or checking the story for holes.

  Jaylah knew that she couldn’t go on like this. She knew they were on a slippery slope that would end in checking Johnny’s pockets, his phone, or breaking into his email to find evidence of lies. That was certainly not a life she imagined, or wanted, for herself but she had to be sure—at least for now.

  “Ma’am?” The woman’s voice was back on the line. “He’s in room 528, I’ll connect you straight away.”

  She let out an audible sigh; Jaylah didn’t realize she had been holding her breath.

  “Thank you.”

  Seven

  “I’ll be back, mom.”

  “Where are you going, sweetie? The Sampsons are in town and your daddy and I are having dinner with them. They haven’t seen you since high school, why don’t you tag along?”

  “Not really in the mood for a reunion, but I’ll let you know.”

  Jaylah hurried out the door and got into her car. She clutched the steering wheel and took three deep breaths, exhaling hard like she was in a yoga class before cranking up her Honda. It had been two weeks since she’d been back in L.A. holed up in her parents’ spacious View Park home, and although it was roomy enough for the trio to not to see each other for long stretches of time, Jaylah was beginning to feel like a caged animal who needed to break out or die.

  She sat in her car trying to decide where to go, everything she could think of seemed too L.A. for her taste. Though she was born in the City of Angeles, Jaylah had always been a peculiar Angeleno who most assumed had migrated to the city from the east coast. She hated going to the beach, didn’t care about celebrities, and rolled her eyes every time she met someone “in the business,” which was always because, technically, so was she. After moving to New York for college Jaylah preferred her winters brisk, her summers sticky and unbearable, and relished the ability to ditch her car and hop on a train to go anywhere she pleased. Los Angeles was certainly her birthplace, but it had never really felt like home.

  Jaylah pulled out of the driveway and onto Angeles Vista heading up the hill. She passed blocks and blocks of stately homes, and a few McMansions, before spilling out onto Slauson, which was the thoroughfare that connected the ‘hood and “Black Beverly Hills,” making each more interesting in the process.

  “Hmm, right or left?” Jaylah asked herself at the stoplight. When she felt her stomach growling she decided to head west toward the ocean.

  Jaylah snaked her way up Slauson until she came to an onramp for the freeway. She merged onto the four-lane beast and prepared to inch along for miles on end but, to her surprise, traffic moved at brisk clip and she was in Santa Monica before she knew it.

  Instead of grabbing a bite and walking along the Promenade with the rest of the tourists, Jaylah kept north on Highway 1, stealing glances at the water that crashed against the shore. Though she hated most of the beaches in L.A. she had always been drawn to the ocean and could gaze at it for hours on end, wondering what was going on below the waves.

  At 10, Jaylah read a book about mythology and learned people once believed Poseidon was the God of the Sea. But having spent most of her summers gazing at the ocean she thought the Greeks had gotten it completely wrong. How could a woman not rule the ocean? she wondered. The water so perfectly mirrored how women actually are—calm on the surface until they’re pushed too far, and a flurry of activity just beneath the skin.

  Jaylah had always felt like the ocean—enticing those around her with soft edges, good grades, fine manners, and a reliable work ethic, while silently planning to smash them to bits and tear down the façade when the opportunity presented itself. The problem? The time never seemed to come.

  After college she slipped right back into her role as dutiful daughter, brunching with her mother on weekends instead friends;
throwing herself into work at the L.A. Weekly despite knowing she was too brilliant a writer to cover Twitter trends and indie bands; and allowing sometimey men to share her bed because she was too afraid to be alone and too unsure of herself to demand more.

  Getting fired and moving to London had caused an earthquake in her sea, and Jaylah could feel a tsunami building that would send everyone scrambling for higher ground.

  Jaylah saw a sign for El Matador State Beach and decided to stop. She pulled into the parking lot, paid the toll, deposited her car, and walked to the edge of the cliff overlooking the ocean. She stared out over the magnificent view, taking in the gigantic rocks jutting out of the sand and marveling at the translucent blue water that she thought was impossible in L.A. Jaylah took a moment to thank the Goddess of the Sea, then strode toward the hiking path that lead down to the shore.

  When she got to the bottom of the hill, Jaylah ambled along the coastline and through a cave before coming upon a family of seals sunning themselves on the rocks. She watched as the mother gently groomed her pup, carefully nuzzling its slate-gray body with her whiskers while it lay on the jagged rocks. She looked on as an overeager photographer crept a little too close to the baby to snap a picture, and was startled by the mother’s piercing bark telling the man to stay away.

  She eyed the pair, transfixed by their bond and wondered if she could ever love the blob like that. Would her primal instincts kick in and push her to protect her baby at all costs if someone got too close? Could she put her child’s needs above her own? Could she and Johnny really have a life together and raise a child?

  In that moment, Jaylah finally realized what she wanted to do. Now, all she had to do was tell Johnny.

  Jaylah pulled her phone out of her pocket and called him up. She didn’t care that it was nearing midnight and he had to work in the morning; she had to speak to him now.

  “How soon can you get here?” Jaylah asked the moment he answered the phone.

  “What?” he stammered, “are you okay?”

  She could hear the panic rising in his deep voice and it comforted her. Despite her doubts, despite her uncontrollable need to check and double check whatever he said, she knew that he loved her.

  “I’m fine, Johnny. I’m at the beach and I was looking these seals, and—“

  “Seals? I don’t understand. What are you talking about?”

  “I made up my mind, Johnny. I know what I want to do about the baby.”

  “Oh,” he hesitated, “and what have you decided?”

  “How soon can you get here? I want to tell you in person.”

  “Why can’t you just tell me now?”

  “Because,” Jaylah said slightly annoyed. “Anyway, you said you would come. When can you get here?”

  Johnny let out a deep sigh. “Saturday. I can probably be there Saturday.”

  “Okay. See you Saturday.”

  Jaylah hung up the phone before he could take back his promise to see her in two days. She knew she probably sounded crazy, but Jaylah had finally made up her mind about something that would affect their lives in one of the biggest ways imaginable. Telling him over the phone seemed to be wholly impersonal and inadequate, and well, she ached to see him.

  Jaylah hiked back up the hill and asked the Goddess of the Sea for strength. She and Johnny were certainly going to need it.

  Eight

  “I’m headed to the airport, mom. I’ll be back,” Jaylah called over her shoulder without even thinking. She hadn’t told her parents Johnny was flying into town because didn’t feel like having a long, drawn out discussion about what kind of man he was or what his intentions were. Jaylah wasn’t even sure she wanted tell them he was in L.A. at all.

  “What’s at the airport?” he mother asked, flipping through a magazine.

  Jaylah considered making something up, but decided against it. “Johnny.”

  “Johnny? Is he one of your friends from college?”

  “No, he’s my…” Jaylah didn’t quite know what to call him. Her soon-to-be-divorced boyfriend? Her baby’s father? The first man she’d ever truly loved? Her obsession? “He’s my boyfriend, mom. He flew in from London for the weekend.”

  Mrs. Baldwin put down her magazine and stared at her daughter. “And you’re just now telling us?”

  “We weren’t sure he would be able to get a flight. It was kind of last minute and I wanted to wait until I knew for sure he’d be coming,” Jaylah lied. It seemed better than saying, I didn’t want to tell you because I knew you’d make a big damn deal of it.

  “Oh.” Mrs. Baldwin glanced at her watch, then looked at the ceiling and began murmuring under her breath. She appeared to be running a list through her head, her fingers keeping score. “Well, it would be hard to pull off a proper dinner in such a short time. I’d need to scrub this place down, go shopping, and start cooking, but it’s already after one.”

  “That won’t be necessary mom, he’ll probably be jet lagged anyway. He’s been flying all night.”

  “Okay then, tell Johnny we’ll expect him for dinner tomorrow evening.”

  “Mom, that’s really not necessary. This is his first trip to L.A., he’ll only be here a few days, and—“

  “And nothing. Your father and I need to meet this man. He is the father of your child, isn’t he?” There it was again, the subtle, you’re a hussy jab. Mrs. Baldwin glared at her daughter as if she had lost all sense of decorum.

  “Of course, mother.”

  “Then we need to meet him and hear what his plans are. Jaylah, you’re our only child. You expect us to sit back while you have a baby, in London, with a man we don’t even know?”

  Jaylah rolled her eyes, resisting was futile. “Fine mom, we’ll see you on Sunday.”

  “You are coming home tonight, aren’t you?” Mrs. Baldwin asked, cocking an accusatory eyebrow.

  Jaylah hadn’t planned on it. If the weekend unfolded the way she hoped, she would be snuggled up beside Johnny for the next two days. “I’ll call you later.”

  * * *

  Jaylah stood in the baggage claim fiddling wit her hair. Since 9/11, people were no longer allowed to meet their loved ones at the gate as soon as they deplaned, instead they were forced to play a chaotic game of hide-and-seek amid hundreds of weary travelers scrambling to claim their bags.

  She paced a narrow strip of the floor and eyed the escalator, growing increasingly annoyed each time a person descended the moving staircase that wasn’t Johnny. A raucous colony of bats banged around in her stomach making her feel like she wanted to vomit, and she thought about running to the nearest restroom, but swallowed back the feeling.

  Jaylah laughed at her nervousness, thought it silly she was carrying on like a schoolgirl who was hoping to catch a glimpse of her crush in the hallway between classes. Johnny had had this affect on her from the beginning—unsettling and enticing her all at once.

  The crowd streaming into the baggage claim began to thin but there was still no sign of Johnny. She took out her phone and checked for missed calls, then texted him again: “WHERE ARE U???”

  Ten minutes passed and there was still no answer; Jaylah was beginning to feel sick again. She plopped down on a bench that still allowed her to watch the escalator, and checked her phone.

  “He said 3:30, right?” she asked herself, scrolling through her email to find his flight information.

  “He better be on this plane,” she said after confirming she was definitely on time. Then it happened again, the need to check his story overtook her. Jaylah looked up the number for Virgin Atlantic and waited patiently for a customer rep to confirm Johnny was a lying asshole—or not. She steeled herself for either one.

  “Hi, I’m calling to see if a passenger boarded a flight. I’m waiting for him in the airport and he should have been here by now,” Jaylah said, rambling to the agent. “His name is Jonathan Poku. P-O—“

  “I’m sorry ma’am, we don’t give out that type of information,” the woman said.
r />   “No, you don’t understand. I’m not a stalker or anything, he’s my boyfriend and I’ve been waiting for about an hour now, and—“

  “I apologize ma’am, but we don’t give that type of information.”

  “Well, can you at least tell me if he made it to Heathrow on time?”

  “Ma’am—“

  “Please? We haven’t seen each other in weeks and I’m pregnant and I’m just stressing out about it. Sorry.”

  “It’s ok ma’am,” the woman said, softening her tone. “Let me see.”

  Jaylah’s grip on her phone tightened and she could hear her heart beating in her ears. She braced herself for the worst.

  “Ma’am? A passenger by the name of Jonathan E. Poku checked in at Heathrow at 18:37 GMT on Friday, but I cannot confirm if he boarded the plane.”

  “Thank you,” Jaylah whispered. “Thank you.”

  She hung up and immediately felt silly. “Why would he send me his flight information if he wasn’t going to show? Of course he’s here. Of course,” she reassured herself.

  Jaylah watched a new rush of passengers flood the escalator and began to feel hopeful again. Her heart knocked around so hard she pressed a hand to her chest to get herself to calm down. She stood to her feet and walked toward to the crowd. He has to be with them, she thought as she searched the faces for her lover’s.

  But he wasn’t there.

  Forty more minutes passed and Jaylah sulked back to the bench, defeated and increasingly worried. She tried to push the negative thoughts out of her mind, but they kept creeping in. He changed his mind. He’s not coming. He doesn’t want you; he wants Fiona. He’s her husband, after all. You’re just his whore.

  Jaylah shook her head to dislodge the thoughts in her brain. Tears began welling up, and she jammed the heel of her palms to her eyes to stop them from spilling over.

  “Get it together, Jaylah,” she commanded. “Stop acting like a fucking cliché!”

  She counted backward from 100 to take her mind off crying, then decided to give Johnny a few more minutes before she left.