Chapter Six

Tasha

I close my laptop and leave it in Coral’s office before I exit after exchanging goodbyes with the guys. A few of the center’s tutors and counselors are setting up chairs to prepare for breakfast. I begin unfolding chairs at the tables and laying out forks and milk boxes for the breakfast we’re about to serve. I hear the door creak open behind me and turn to see Trudy entering. I look at the clock, noting she’s ten minutes early. She hasn’t been around in about a week or so, and I’ve been worried about her.

“Hey, Trudy, how are you?” I greet.

“Hi, Ms. Tasha. I’m good. Look!” she announces happily, holding up a book.

I immediately smile at the excitement in her voice before I notice she’s holding up my book. She has the first in the series of Danica’s Travels. My chest rises with a sense of pride as I watch the sparkle in her eyes as she admires the book.

“My mama let me go to the library the other day. Well, I kinda sneaked off from where I was supposed to have been to go to the library,” she admits.

At that I frown.

“Don’t get mad. I couldn’t convince my mama to take me to the library for nothin’ and I really wanted to check out this book.”

How could I be upset with her after that? Still I have to give her a little grief about sneaking off away from her mother. “Trudy, I’m glad you wanted to read, but you still shouldn’t have sneaked away from your mother like that. What if something had happened to you?”

Trudy shrugs. “She wouldn’t have cared.”

“What?”

“Nothing, Ms. Tasha. But I’ve been reading and I really love Danica’s story. She’s so brave.”

I nod. “She is. Here, let’s sit down and we can talk for a few minutes about Danica.”

We sit down and I let Trudy talk about how she’s already finished the book; she is currently re-reading it. The only time I see her face sadden is when she talks about having to return the book to the library the next day.

“Hold on, Trudy,” I say, standing and rushing to my bag on the other side of the room. I pull out my copy of Danica’s Travels and bring it back to Trudy. “You can keep this one.”

“Really?” she questions excitedly, yet unsure as if I’m going to take away the gift I just gave her. I see the look of a girl who’s had things taken away from her before.

“Yes, really. It’s yours. I’ve got more than one copy,” I assure. “Now, I need you to help me put out the rest of these chairs and finish setting up for breakfast. All right?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

As more children emerge through the doors and Coral rounds the corner from her office, I feel a vibration in my pocket. After pulling out my phone and viewing my text message, a tingle shoots down my spine. My phone screen is filled with a profile image of Jeremy. It’s a picture I sneaked a shot of on Liam and Coral’s wedding day when he wasn’t looking. Opening the message, I can’t help but smile.

Jeremy: LaTasha, I’ll be back in town later this afternoon. I’ll be over at 6:30. I’m bringing dinner. Anything you don’t eat? Have you been wearing my gift?

My heartbeat quickens after reading his text. It’s been more than a week since our dinner and Jeremy has been out of town for work. Two days after our date, I got a delivery in the mail. I opened the box to find what looked like a jewelry box. I opened it to find two large glass balls connected by a string. They’re called Ben Wa balls. Inside the box read Jeremy’s instructions to wear them for at least an hour a day along with the benefits of them, which included longer, more intense orgasms.

Tasha: Yes, I’ve been wearing them. And have you seen me?

Jeremy: What’s that supposed to mean?

I suddenly feel like my response wasn’t the right one.

Tasha: Nothing. I just meant that there isn’t anything I don’t eat.

I add an emoji smiley face to try and make light of my comment.

Jeremy: I told you I don’t like it when you’re self-deprecating. We’ll have to discuss punishments tonight at dinner. 6:30. See you then.

A tingle in my belly begins as I read the word “punishments.”

“What are you grinning at?”

Oh shit. “Nothing,” I lie, quickly putting my phone in my pocket.

Coral looks at me speculatively. “Uh, huh, well, Denise is doing the morning reading and Princess is going to be dropped off in a half an hour. We’re spending most of the day in the pool today with the kids. Are you joining us or do you want to work in the garden?” 

“The garden,” I say without hesitation. Although I’m still consumed with writer’s block, I think doing some weeding and vegetable picking will help me to zone out for a bit and get some more ideas. Also, it’ll help expend some of this nervous energy before my date tonight.

“Okay. It’s an early day today since we close at noon, so I’ll see you in a few hours. I have to go do my rounds first,” Coral says before taking one last look at me and turning to head outside.

I know she’s thinking something is up with me, but surprisingly, she hasn’t said anything. I wonder if she knows about Jeremy and me. I’ve had a little pep in my step for the last week since our date. Every morning I wake up to a “good morning” text and every night at nine o’clock sharp, my phone rings. As per one of his rules, I’ve exactly three rings before he hangs up. And if I don’t answer, he’ll be pissed. Tonight will likely be the real discussion on boundaries and the assignment he gave me a week ago.

About thirty minutes later, I have the kids help me haul the vegetables to the kitchen so the staff can prepare them for lunch. Just then, my phone buzzes again with another text message.

Jeremy: I have to change our dinner from 6:30 to 8. I’ll pick up Thai on the way over.

Tasha: Thai is perfect. See you at 8.

“Ms. Tasha.”

I hear someone behind me call my name. I turn to see it’s Trudy. “Yes, sweetie?”

“Umm, I just wanted to say thank you for the book. I love Danica’s stories. I’m gonna go to the library to get the second and third books. Do you know if there’s a fourth book in the series?”

A pang of sadness hits my chest as she asks about the fourth installment in Danica’s series. That’s the book I’m supposed to be working on, but this darn writer’s block is not letting up.

“Not yet, Trudy, but I’m sure one is on the way,” I manage to say, hoping beyond hope that is the actual truth. To be honest, I’ve been somewhat fearful that the words will never come to me and my writing days are over. The thought of that scares me more than I can even comprehend. I’ve always had my writing and creative thoughts to get me through even the darkest times in my life. Now, when things are going well for me, the words seem to have stopped.

“Okay, I’ll try to come back later this week. Will you be here?” Trudy asks, interrupting my pity party.

“Yes, I’ll be here, but why later in the week? You can’t make it tomorrow?”

“Nah, my mama says she’s too busy to bring me tomorrow, and I don’t got money for the bus.” She shrugs, but I can see the disappointment in her eyes.

“Hang on a sec,” I say, pushing my earlier thoughts aside and digging in my pocket for a ten dollar bill. “Here. You can use this for the bus to get here and back home. Is it enough?” I ask, wanting to make sure she has enough money to be able to make it to the community center for the rest of the week if need be.

Trudy’s brown eyes widen in shock. “Yes, it is, but I can’t take it.”

“Why not?”

“’Cause I can’t pay you back.”

I smile. “Trudy, it’s okay. You don’t have to pay me back. I just want to make sure you have enough money to be able to get here the rest of the week. You’re sure that’s enough? I have more in my wallet, but it’s in the office.”

“Yeah, this is enough, Ms. Tasha. Thank you!” she exclaims, obviously excited she doesn’t have to miss the rest of the week.

“All right, let’s go help fold up the chairs. I’m sure your mama will be here within the hour.”

Trudy nods, stuffing the money in her pocket and begins helping me put the chairs away. Forty-five minutes later, we are done and all the kids have been picked up. I see Trudy as she heads toward a beat-up, red Buick. The woman, whom I assume is her mother in the passenger’s seat, barely looks at Trudy as she climbs in the back seat. As the car squeals off, I get that same gut feeling as the first time I saw Trudy’s mother. I watch the car all the way until it turns the corner, disappearing from my line of vision.

“Ready to go?” Coral asks from behind me.

Shaking off that odd feeling, I nod my head. “Yup.”

“Hi, Aunt Tasha!” Laura waves excitedly as she stands by Coral, holding her hand.

“Hey, Princess. Did you have a good day?”

She nods with the excitement only four year olds can muster. “Yeah!”

I listen attentively to Laura while she recounts her day in an animated voice. She continues to talk the entire time we drive home. After a while, my mind drifts to my date tonight. The butterflies begin fluttering in my belly with anticipation. As we pull up to the front gate, I’m still wondering how tonight will go.