Two Steps Back Read online

  How could she not be like her mother? The thought made her panic and seek out Mrs. Baldwin’s approval at every turn. So the incident in the grocery store had seemed significantly riskier after her mother’s soul-stirring tidbit about trust and love.

  Jaylah did not want her mother to think she was a liar because they were already so unlike one another—different faces, different eyes, different skin—

  she couldn’t bear losing her mother’s love as well.

  When Mrs. Baldwin finished loading all of her groceries on the belt, Jaylah reached in her pocket and pulled out the candies.

  “Sorry mama.” She held them out to her mother, her eyes on the verge of tears.

  Mrs. Baldwin plucked two candies from Jaylah’s hand and told the cashier to ring them up, before sliding them in her purse. When they were done loading the groceries into the car, Mrs. Baldwin took out the taffy chews and gave one to Jaylah.

  “Remember what I said, Jay Jay. Liars are the worse kind of people because you can’t trust them. And if you can’t trust them…” she paused.

  “You can’t love them,” Jaylah said on cue.

  “Exactly, Jay Jay. Exactly.”

  Mrs. Baldwin’s words flashed through Jaylah’s mind as she made her way back to the men’s department to find Johnny.

  Liars are the worst kind of people. You can’t love them.

  Johnny had lied to her about his wife, but there was no doubt in her mind that she loved him.

  But was she supposed to?

  The thought fluttered through her brain, but when she saw him standing in front of a three-way mirror wearing a navy blue suit that hugged his body so well she was almost jealous, she forced it out of her mind.

  “You look good,” she said, bushing an imaginary a piece of lint from his shoulder. “Really good.”

  He turned to face her, already smiling, but his expression changed when he looked into her eyes. “What’s the matter?”

  “Nothing. Just a little tired,” she said, sweeping aside his concern. But the truth was that scene in the bathroom had tuckered her out and all Jaylah wanted to do at that very moment was lie down, watch TV, and eat copious amounts of chocolate.

  “But your eyes are red and you look a little…”

  Jaylah waved him off as if he were imagining things. “I’m fine. I just need to grab a quick snack.”

  “Already? My boy is going to be strong!”

  She rolled her eyes. “Whatever. My stomach is a bit unsettled, that’s all.”

  He looked in her eyes again and seemed to examine her face for clues. “Still? Did you…”

  “A little, but I’m fine, I just need…”

  “What’s a little? Did anything stay down?”

  She didn’t answer. Jaylah knew if she told him that everything she’d eaten had come roaring back up her esophagus he would overreact. And that wouldn’t help either of them.

  “Forget the suit,” Johnny said, removing the jacket and leading her to a nearby seat. “Let’s go back to the hotel so you can get some rest.”

  “I’m fine, babe. I’ll sit here while you try on the rest of them. I’ll be okay. Promise.”

  He hesitated, seeming to run her words through his head before he spoke. “No need. I think I’m done anyway. This is my favorite of the lot.”

  “You sure? You’re not just saying that because you’re trying to rush are you?”

  He cracked a wide grin. “Look at me, babes.” Johnny spun around like a spokesmodel, “I look like a boss, innit?”

  Jaylah grinned in spite of herself. Johnny did look damn good. The jacket showed off his broad shoulders and tapered waist, and the pants skimmed his legs but didn’t hug them. He looked like a sable-skinned James Bond and would certainly show her bourgie mother that he had his shit together and could afford to take care of her daughter.

  Johnny leaned down and tilted Jaylah’s chin up so he could meet her lips. “Be right back.”

  He disappeared into the dressing room once again, but Jaylah only briefly reclined and closed her eyes for a few short minutes before he returned.

  “That was fast,” she said when she saw him walking toward her. Johnny held out his hand and she took it, then walked with him to pay for the suit.

  The sales clerk was all smiles now, no doubt bolstered by the prospect of a fat commission. In addition to the suit, Johnny had picked out a crisp white shirt and striking red tie. The total made Jaylah woozy. $2476.43.

  Jaylah could probably live on that amount for over a month and a half, easily paying her rent, keeping herself fed, and even buying a pair of earrings or a blouse at one of the Portobello Road Markets. But for Johnny it was nothing at all, just another garment he would wear to close the deal and secure Jaylah for himself.

  They strolled hand-in-hand out of the men’s department, through the store, and to a café near the store. Johnny insisted Jaylah eat before attempting the drive back to the hotel, so she took him to one of her favorite Italian delis in Beverly Hills.

  Every time Jaylah had been to Ferrarini she could never decide what to order. The glass vitrines were filled with colorful deserts, buttery pastries, and some of the freshest meats in the city. There were so many choices it would sometimes take Jaylah fifteen full minutes to decide what she wanted.

  Johnny waited as she scanned the menu, tempted to order one of everything and take it back to the hotel.

  “Can I help you, miss?” The dark-haired barista smiled at her from across the counter, and Jaylah considered flirting with the stranger.

  “Coffee. I want coffee,” she said, enticed by the robust aromas percolating just behind the handsome man.

  “What kind of coffee, miss? We have Americanos, cappuccinos, espressos, an Ethiopian blend that’s really good…”

  Jaylah was about to place her order, but Johnny interrupted. “No coffee. She can’t have any right now.” Jaylah made a face, like, what are talking about, fool? But he was unmoved. “The baby, remember? I read caffeine isn’t good for the baby.”

  “You read what?” she said, irritated he was vetoing her chance at a cup of Joe. First her mother had admonished her for wanting some, running down a list of things she could no longer enjoy if she wanted to birth a healthy baby, now Johnny was picking up where Mrs. Baldwin left off and was being a food Nazi too?

  Jaylah groaned her displeasure. “Johnny, one cup won’t hurt. It’s no like I’m going to drink a whole pot of the stuff.”

  He shook his head. “I don’t think it’s a good idea, especially with the morning sickness. You already vomited up everything you ate, you really want to press your luck?”

  “Not everything.” Jaylah stared at Johnny and he cocked an eyebrow, indicating he wasn’t falling for her bullshit. “Fine,” she gave in.

  Jaylah turned her attention to the barista who pretended not to witness the couple’s brief spat. “Can I have a peppermint tea and a prosciutto and mozzarella sandwich?”

  “Sure! And you, sir?”

  “Two chocolate croissants and a bottle of water.”

  It was Jaylah’s turn to raise her ‘brow. “Two?”

  Johnny let a smirk dance across his lips. “I know you.”

  Even though she was peeved he’d put the kibosh on her chance at a cup of coffee, the truth was, he did know her—well. Chocolate was one of her biggest weaknesses, and she knew he was using the promise of a pastry as an apology of sorts. She couldn’t have coffee, but as long as he didn’t try to cut off her chocolate, she just might make it through this pregnancy.

  They grabbed a seat facing Burton Way and waited for their food to arrive.

  “You know, pregnant women have coffee all the time, right? It’s not even considered bad anymore.”

  “I’m not concerned about pregnant women,” he said, stroking the back of her hand with his fingers. “I’m concerned about you. I just want you to be okay. I already lost one baby, Jaylah, and I don’t want to go through that again.”

  Oh shit, Jay
lah remembered. Fiona had lost their child.

  Her pregnancy was the reason they’d finally decided to wed after years of being together. “I had to do the right thing,” he’d told her one night while they lay in bed. “What kind of man would I be if I didn’t?”

  Jaylah wondered if the baby had survived if she’d been sitting with Johnny now. Would he have even let them happen? Or would he have neglected to call after the night they met and made out in his car?

  A sickening thought crawled down her spine and caused her to shudder. What would happen if I lost this baby?

  She hated to ask, hated to even think about their relationship coming to an end, or the amorphous blob she’d suddenly grown attached to not making it into the world, but she had to know. She couldn’t leave anything up to chance.

  “What if something did happen to the baby, Johnny?” she asked, staring out the window trying not to look at him. “Would you leave me too?

  The question landed like a bomb, exploding hurt feelings and rendering them both silent. She peeked at him from the corner of her eye and saw a wave of shock—or was it hurt?—move across his handsome face.

  “I…I…don’t even want to…” he stuttered, then stopped; the question robbing him of his voice yet again. “Why are you thinking like this?”

  “You married Fiona because she got pregnant.” She looked at him then. “But she lost the baby. Now you’re getting divorced. What if…”

  He held up his hand. “A lot happened between those two events, Jaylah. We’re not getting divorced because she lost the baby. That was almost five years ago. We just grew—”

  “Right,” she cut him off hoping to sidestep the standard line of a relationship pulled apart by time and unhappiness. “You’re getting divorced because of me. I’m the home wrecker, remember?”

  She meant that last bit as a half-joke, but plump tears ran to the rims of her eyes after she said it.

  Home wrecker.

  That’s what Jaylah was, right? She’d never actually said the words aloud, but she’d thought them—almost nonstop—since that afternoon in Brick Lane. How else could she describe falling in love with a married man, who in turn had decided to leave his wife because she was carrying his child?

  If Jaylah hadn’t stepped in and wrecked Fiona’s life, wouldn’t she be at home with her husband?

  “Jaylah,” Johnny said, his tone soft and careful. “You’re not a home wrecker, love. I admit, I was completely taken with you and lost my head, but this isn’t your fault.”

  “But if you hadn’t have met me, you wouldn’t be getting divorced and Fiona wouldn’t be losing her husband.”

  Johnny took a sip of water and appeared to compose his thoughts. It was his turn to glance at the traffic humming along outside of the café. “We would have gotten divorced anyway, Jay.”

  “Yeah, just not so soon,” she said dryly.

  “Does it matter when? Our relationship was over, had been over for years. We were just both too comfortable and too scared to say the words. Meeting you was the catalyst for me to finally do what I’d thought about doing so many times before.”

  “But you were still sleeping with her…” Jaylah half-asked/half-stated before really thinking about the implication of her words. But it was one of the things that continued to gnaw at her brain.

  Had she ever actually shared Johnny? Did he sleep with both of them at the same time? Had there been some tiny sliver of overlap between the times he shared her bed and when he made love to his wife?

  Made love…to Fiona?

  The mere thought of it triggered the bile to percolate in Jaylah’s belly.

  It shouldn’t have mattered considering they hadn’t even talked about being exclusive when they first started dating. But there had been no one else in Jaylah’s orbit after Johnny swept into her world and set her heart alight. She didn’t even notice other men when she moved through the city; he had captured her attention so thoroughly she was blind to everyone else. But could the same be said for him, especially with a wife at home?

  Johnny rubbed the side of his head and sighed. “No. Not since…”

  “We met? I found out I was pregnant? What?” Jaylah pressed, scared of what he might say.

  He flinched at her sharp tone, and his chest billowed like someone had flipped a switch. “Since that afternoon on the London Eye,” he said grabbing her hand and exhaling when Jaylah didn’t pull it away. “That was the beginning…of us.”

  Jaylah inspected his face for anything that would tell her Johnny was bullshitting her. A twitch of the eye, the hint of a nervous smile, a diverted glace, but he never broke her gaze. Johnny stared into her eyes until she was forced to look away as a new groundswell of tears marched to her eyes once again.

  Between the pregnancy hormones, and her unwillingness to give in and trust him, this situation was kicking her ass and forcing her to ride the wildest emotional rollercoaster of her life.

  On one hand Jaylah was happy to have a man who loved her so fucking hard he’d jump on a plane and fly across an ocean because she said so, but on the other, nothing about their life—except for the inexplicable bond they’d created—made sense or felt like the responsible thing to do.

  Jaylah had literally sprinted away from Johnny when she found out he was married. She had run for blocks and blocks trying to put enough space between the tug of her heart and what she knew was right, but it had all failed.

  Despite her ranting, despite cursing him out for lying, despite refusing to take his calls, she was not only carrying his child, but she was also hoping against hope that they could survive this topsy-turvy ride.

  Jaylah took large gulps of her tea, wishing to quell the hurricane of feelings swirling around inside her head. Being constantly on edge was not good for her, but it was especially bad for the baby who was probably dinning on a womb full of cortisol.

  If she was going to make through this Jaylah needed to get her shit together—fast. She couldn’t vacillate between being head-over-tits in love with Johnny, to questioning every word that came out of his mouth. Even if she couldn’t get her heart in check for her own peace of mind, she owed it to the little one growing inside her.

  Jaylah started to speak, but the barista appeared with her sandwich and Johnny’s croissants, causing her mouth to water as soon as she caught a whiff of the decadent pastries.

  “Want a bite?” Johnny asked, a hopeful smile crossing his face. He held out the treat and fed it to Jaylah, his grin growing wider as he watched her do a little happy dance in her seat.

  “Ohmygod,” Jaylah said, eyes still closed. “That’s soooo good, Johnny. So, so good. Give me more!”

  Johnny shook his head playfully. “Not until you eat your sandwich, babes. Real food first, then sweets.”

  Damn, here he goes again.

  Jaylah scrunched up her face and frowned at him. “You know, you may be older than me, but you’re not my father. You can’t tell me what to do. First the coffee, what’s next? You’re gonna tell me to eat all my vegetables before I can leave the table?”

  He broke out in a hearty laugh, rocking back and forth as he chortled. His chuckle traveled across the table, softening Jaylah’s expression into a smirk.

  “Believe me,” he said, drawing out the words, “I know I can’t tell you what to do, babes.”

  “Then what’s up with the whole Jonathan Poku, Captain of the Food Police, thing?”

  “I just want to take care of you, Jaylah,” he said without a hint of a leftover laugh in his voice. “Is that alright with you?”

  She stared at him for a beat, trying to decide if he was sincere. Giving into his words, Jaylah moved to his side of the table and sat in his lap. “Of course,” she said, planting a soft kiss on his lips. “Of course that’s alright.”

  Twelve

  Mrs. Baldwin scurried around the kitchen grabbing pans, flour, eggs, meat, and what looked like all of the produce from the fridge. Jaylah watched her mother, animated and frazzled, f
lutter about the space like a chicken running from a butcher’s blade.

  “Mom, it’s not even noon. You don’t have to start cooking yet,” Jaylah said even though she knew her mother wasn’t going to listen.

  She’d seen this scene play out many times before whenever her father would bring over business associates, or Mrs. Baldwin would host luncheons for the women from their church. Jaylah’s mom would easily spend an entire day cooking and cleaning in the hopes that everything would turn out perfect.

  Watching her now, Jaylah felt both sorry for and in awe of her mother who worked so hard to keep up the façade of perfection that it had become her fulltime job. In Jaylah’s 28 years, she had only seen her mother spin out of control once—when Julian died.

  But even that didn’t last very long. After Mrs. Baldwin recovered from losing her newborn, she poured herself into making sure everything in her life hummed along like a well-oiled machine.

  For starters Sarah Baldwin always looked flawless. Even though she was over fifty, people often mistook her for Jaylah’s older sister. Her skin unmarked by wrinkles, her petite frame still lean and toned, and her curly afro dyed blonde to cover up the gray. Mrs. Baldwin never left the house in sweats or “old lady clothes,” as she called them. Instead she ran errands in tailored jeans, colorful blouses, and ballet flats.

  “You should always look like you care, Jay Jay,” she’d told her daughter once when she caught Jaylah on her way to the store wearing pajama bottoms and a hoodie, “even when you don’t.”

  Despite hosting this dinner to interrogate Johnny, Jaylah marveled at her mother’s need to impress him as well. She’d spent the morning plying Jaylah with questions about what Johnny ate, what he did for a living, and if his parents were excited about the baby.

  “We haven’t told them yet, mother,” Jaylah had said, unable to tell her mother the truth. Not only did Johnny’s parents not know about the baby, they didn’t even know about her.

  “Do you need any help, mom?” she asked, hoping Mrs. Baldwin would turn her down. Though Jaylah didn’t mind helping out, the last thing she wanted to do was hang out in the kitchen inhaling conflicting aromas while Mrs. Baldwin prepped the meal. Her stomach had been so finicky lately, any wayward smell could ruin her day and send her clinging to the porcelain throne.