Right My Wrongs

With you is where I belong

I had a dream.

No, I was having a dream.

It had to be a dream.

Because there was no way that I somehow morphed into my eighteen year old body overnight.

And there was no way in hell that I was sitting across from my now deceased mother at our favorite Sunday brunch café in Grand Turk. 

"What are you thinking about getting Laya?" She was too busy perusing the leather bound menu in front of her face to notice my startled expression.

I couldn't help but to examine how she looked. She wore her favorite metallic pleated skirt with a white button-down top that she tied at her waist. Her arms were adorned in colorful beaded bracelets, her ears held thick gold hoops, and cat eye reading glasses covered her eyes.

But it wasn't her clothing and jewelry that left me dumbfounded. It was her hair and facial features that caught my attention. My mother's face was full, her cheekbones were angled and highlighted in coral blush and her hair...her hair was in its signature long black braid that fell over her right shoulder and down her chest with a curl at the end.

That's how I knew none of this was real. When I was eighteen, mommy was at the beginning of her illness. Her face had sunken in from her sudden weight loss and she was basically bald from chemo.

I finally moved my hand across the white table cloth to touch hers. My thumb rubbed the coldness of the gold ring with the emerald stone that her father left her. It was the same ring that I wore on a chain in her remembrance.

"Mommy?" My voice came out in a shaky breath.

"Hmm?" She hummed still engrossed in the menu. "The lobster paella sounds good. I wonder what the fish of the day is..."

"Mommy??" She ignored me.

"Anthony honey?" She raised her hand to call the waiter that always served us at this restaurant.

"What can I get for you Mrs. Deveaux?"

Mrs. Deveaux? She dropped my father's surname when they divorced.

"What's the fish of the day, Anthony?" She finally looked up from the menu at the scrawny waiter.

"Well we have a delicious pan seared grouper with..." I totally fazed out his voice. Still shocked by the entire interaction.

"Mom..."

"Mommy..." I still called her name again but she was too enthralled listening to today's brunch specials.

"That sounds lovely. I'll have that, the Mediterranean omelet for my husband, the berry french toast for my son, and what do you want honey?" She finally looked at me with her big hazel eyes.

"Mommy...you're here...you're okay?"

Her head reared back in confusion.

"Of course, I am. What are you talking about Laya?" She took off her glasses with a worried look on her face.

"You had...you have cancer. You...you underwent chemotherapy and had a mastectomy...you died." I whispered the last part.

"Allaya baby, what in the world are you going on about?" This time she rose from her side of the table and moved to sit next to me. "Anthony please get her a glass of ice water."

"Yes ma'am." He dismissed himself.

My mother grabbed both of my hands and pulled me to her. Then she patted my forehead and my neck.

"You don't have a fever. Are you sick honey? Maybe it's this heat?" She took the menu and started fanning me with it.

"No no no!" I took the menu from her and tossed it roughly on the table. "You're not supposed to be here! You are dead! This has to be a dream. I just need to wake up." I got up from my seat and rubbed my sweaty hands against my white dress.

"Lilo...Laya...what's going on?" My dad approached our table with a worrisome face. His golf clubs slung across his shoulder and Amir trailing behind him.

"Everything alright Lay?" My brother stood beside me and slung his arm over my shoulder.

Immediately, I pushed him away and gripped my hair in confusion. "You left! You divorced mommy and left us!" I pointed at my father. "And you...you left too." I pushed at Amir's chest.

Patrons at the other tables seemed oblivious to my meltdown as they continued to eat their food and chat amongst themselves.

My father dropped his clubs and approached me slowly. "Lani, what are you going on about? I'm right here. I'm here." He held me in a tight hug and stroked my hair.

The action caused tears to flow from my eyes. I didn't know how to feel.

I was overwhelmed.

As much as I wanted this to be true.

It wasn't. This was all fake and I couldn't stand it any longer. I pulled away from his hold and sped walk off the dining patio and down the sandy path to the beach.

I needed to get out of here.

I needed to wake the fuck up.

"Laya wait!!" My mother's voice came from behind me.

I tried to walk faster but she seemed to catch my pace.

"Allaya stop!" My feet instantly obeyed her command.

"What is going on with you my love?"

"It's all fake!" Even my voice made it sound like I was a kid again. "Can't you see this is not real?" I waved my hands in the air. "Daddy cheated on you with his secretary! He left you for her! Then Amir left. Then you got cancer! Then you died! You are not real! You are not here anymore! You left me!" I shouted every single sentence at her.

But still...

She wore a smile.

And that smile did not faulter.

When I was done and breathing heavy. She took hold of my chin and spoke softly.

"Why can't you let yourself be happy, Laya?" She wiped my tears and held my hand. Then she pulled me along the beach with her.

"You think I don't know all that? I know this is a dream baby. But I'm going to enjoy every minute of it while I have it. I'm going to relish in your presence while I have you."

"But-"

She cut me off. "The same way that you should enjoy the people in your life while you have them." She smiled even more.

I said nothing as we walked along the beach. I was too stunned to speak.

Along the short walk we came across a man sitting in the sand. His tattooed back was turned towards us. A little girl sat next to him building a sand castle. But I couldn't see her face either because she faced the shore. He had another little girl in his arms. She laughed as he tickled her stomach. When I saw her face, I almost melted.

"My granddaughter has a beautiful laugh." My mother sighed. "She's amazing Laya...everything I would have imagined and more...just like you."

She pressed a kiss to my temple.

"See? You're not all alone anymore."

Fame certainly has its shortcomings especially when you're a rising A-list artist that's knee deep in the unforgiving music industry.

I got niggas I don't know watching my every move...waiting on me to fumble and every week there's a new story in the blogs about some shit I didn't even know I did.

As I've grown and matured, I can't say that fame has gotten any easier. I've just learned to handle its side effects.

One thing I will say though, is that being famous, well-connected, and rich has its benefits.

For example, after my little "meeting" with Zora, I made a call to one of my mentors in the industry. When I first started out in this shit, he supported my every move from the sidelines. Recently, we made plans on some new ventures together. Soon, we'd be business partners.

"East! What's good man? I ain't heard from you in a while."

"I'm cool, man. Shit been so crazy 'round here, I almost forgot we supposed to link up next week."

His laugh came through the speaker. "I hear that, my nigga. How's the fam? When imma meet the famous Ms. Daniels?"

I'd mention Laya to him every single time we talked. That's how much I thought about her and our family.

"The fam is good. I was supposed to plan something the last time y'all came up to the city but like I said...with shit being crazy, it completely slipped my mind."

"Aye that ain't a problem, y'all are always invited to the house whenever y'all are in LA. Listen, Me and Bey was thinking of going down to Turks in February. We'd love to stay at her hotel, I just think it would be best if we got to meet her first."

"I know Laya would definitely love to have y'all down there. I'll talk to her about it."

"Sounds good. So, what can I do for you East?"

"You still got that hundred footer down in Miami, Hov?"

Being rich meant that you had rich friends — rich friends with super yachts that they didn't mind loaning out to you.

A few hours later, our driver pulled up to the Venetian Marina & Yacht Club in South Beach.

"Sir, we've arrived. I'll assist the deckhands with delivering your bags to the boat." He nodded at me through the rear view mirror.

Laya was still asleep in my arms, nestled deeply into my side. She must've had a bad dream or some shit because during the ride here, she talked and shook her head in her sleep.

She was quiet during the entire two hour plane ride from Atlanta to Miami though. I was surprised that she didn't fall asleep on the flight considering it was almost one in the morning when we took off.

Instead, she set up her laptop on the private plane's table and worked across from me.

That was what she did when she was stressed, worried, and even upset. It was how she de-stressed...with more unrelated work-related stress.

I preferred to smoke through or rap about mine, some rather drink or eat, and others fucked their stress away.

But, Allaya Daniels worked. It didn't matter the time or the distance, she worked her ass off. Then she got up to take care of our kids, me, and everything in between.

Fuck. I can't believe I almost lost that.

There was still the possibility that I still could lose what I had with her.

Because when Allaya worked that also gave her time to overthink.

This time, I needed to do shit differently. Instead of letting her run away and me chasing after her, I decided that we'd do it together. That way ain't no chasing would be involved.

Laya stirred on the side of me, after realizing that we'd stopped moving.

"We're here baby" I opened the car door.

"Where is here?"

I extended my hand out to her from outside the car, waiting for her to take it. "Come find out."

Together with her delicate hand in mine we followed behind the driver and a crew member along the marina's boardwalk.

When we reached the One Love, Laya stiffened. I turned to look at her expression and admired the awe in her eyes.

The yacht may have been a good decision after all.

"Mr. and Mrs. Brewster on behalf of Mr. and Mrs. Carter and the entire crew of the One Love, welcome aboard." A man in a white uniform spoke.

From what I could see on deck, this boat was nice as hell. Way bigger and a lot more luxurious than the other yachts and speedboats I've been on.

"Mr. Carter said that you may have been tired from your journey, but hopefully it's not too late for a nightcap." The captain exclaimed as Laya and I were helped aboard.

Another one of the crew members stepped foreword with a silver tray containing a glass of wine and smaller crystal glass of brown liquor.

"Gabby will also show you to your state room and in the morning we'll have a proper tour."

Jay knew what the fuck he was doing with this shit. I wouldn't have expected anything less.

"Thank you." Laya said politely then turned to me.

"Who's Mr. Carter?" She asked from the side of her mouth."

With my hand on her lower back, I urged her forward. "I'll tell you later. Go to the room, I'm coming in a few." I told her.

After a long ass conversation with the captain and crew about our plans and the places I wanted the yacht to dock, I went back to our cabin to check to see if Laya was good.

I was praying her ass was in a better mood than before. 'Cause I don't think I could handle another tense ass night of us sleeping in the same bed and the room's small as sofa was not an option.

The heated conversation she was having on her phone, made me stop at the door. From the other side, I could hear the hushed tone of her voice. I quietly twisted the knob and entered the dim room, closing the door softly behind me.

Allaya sat in the armchair in the corner. Her shoulders square and tense, her phone pressed against her ear in one hand, while her other grasped her forehead. Her suitcase and travel bag were opened in the closet and the bathroom light illuminated the space along with the scent of her vanilla body wash eminating from it.

"How much is this going to cost me Cara?" The answer must've been outrageous, because she sucked her teeth loudly.

"Hell fucking no, that's unacceptable! At this point that man is ripping me off. Let him know if he doesn't go back to our original deal he'll lose The Grove as a client."

Her voice was stern and steady. Shorty definitely wasn't in the mood.

With that thought, her hand reached out to grab the wine glass from the table beside her. Before she could even bring it to her lips, she yelled in the phone "It's either he does the fucking work OR he writes me a check and there better be five digits on that motherfucker. I'm not playing with him or you for that matter! Your job is to make sure shit like this don't happen. "

I was rethinking everything I was about to do. Clearly, she wasn't in the headspace for discussion...yet alone cuddling in the same bed.

"Copy me in all the emails, as a matter of fact put him on the phone with me when you see him tomorrow." She clipped then sipped from the glass of wine. "Thank you Cara. Get some sleep." She hung up and grasped the phone tightly in her hand.

She stayed seated, staring out of the open  balcony a bit longer, before getting up and walking to the door. With her eyes trained on the floor, she didn't notice I was there until she bumped into me, spilling a bit of red wine on my white shirt.

"Shit." She hissed.

"It's coo—" My thoughts left my brain when I looked down between us and noticed what she was wearing.

A shiny black silk robe covered her shoulders and while the silkiness of the fabric caught my attention, I was more interested in what she wore under it.

That shit was sexy as hell. Lacy ass black material covered her titties, pushing them up and barely covering anything else.

I licked my lips as an involuntary reaction. I ain't had the chance to touch her in over a month and now all the skin she was showing had me acting out.

When she saw the way I looked at her, her lips spread into a sly smirk. Seconds later the yacht's engine came to life and we slowly started moving out of the marina.

Allaya stood in front of me with the remnants of her wine in one hand and the other on my chest pushing me towards the huge ass California king bed.

"Where are we going?" She asked with hooded eyes.

"We're gonna spend a few days in Jamaica then we'll head to the DR for Thanksgiving. After that we can take the girls to Barbados or St. Thomas for a while and then we can head back to Miami whenever you'd like. New York will always be there waiting, Laya."

"Will it?" She was teasing me with the rhetorical question.

And I fell for it by answering her. She sat the now empty wine glass on the floor beside the bed and moved her hands to the waist band of my sweat pants.

"I-It will. You need a change of scenery that's not the city...or the hotel in Turks." I couldn't believe she was making my grown ass stutter.

This ain't what I wanted.

Actually, let me rephrase that.

I did want this. But not now, and definitely not under these circumstances.

I knew what she was doing. Laya was trying to skip the talking slash working shit out step and go straight to make up sex.

Believe me, there was nothing more that I wanted to do than fuck her right through the mattress but we had shit to sort through first. I remembered everything she said a few hours ago in that media room and I won't let it go in vain.

Or else...we'd end right back in this same space.

"I know what I need, Dave." She rose on her toes to try to match my height; her lips hovered over mine. I almost thought she was going to kiss me but then she spoke again, "I need your dick to make me cum in five different ways in fifteen minutes."

Those words caught my ass way off guard. That's why it was so easy for her to push me on the bed with one hand, and shrug off her robe with the other.

My head hit the pillows and even in the dim light, I could see every inch of her.

Smooth brown skin, covered in this black lacey fabric. I could see the outline of her nipples through the bra she wore. I was tempted to abandon whatever half-ass plan I designed and just enjoy the ride.

"Allaya" I said her name sternly while she was still on top of me.

It took everything in me to not go down the road she was going on. I had to be the dumbest nigga in the universe – not dicking her down and ignoring the silent animosity between us, even though that's what she was asking for. Shit, it was the easiest thing to do.

But we both knew that's not what she really wanted. Behind the sexy ass smirk and seductive tone in her voice, I could see her frustration and annoyance.

What kind of man would I be if I ignored it?

Placing my hands on her waist, I lifted her off of my lap and placed her beside me on the bed.

"If you think I'm gon' fuck you and not say anything about the shit going on between us then you out yo' mind ma."

The sly smirk that graced her lips slowly flattened into a frown. I half expected her to dramatically leave the room, so I'd have to chase her but then she threw her head back onto the headboard to look up at the ceiling.

We were quiet for a while, lost in our own thoughts.

Until, I was the one that broke it.

"I don't like the silence."

I laid on my back staring at the ceiling with her. Waiting for the right words to come to me.

"I don't like it either." She breathed