I Gave Him My Heart (9 page)

“Mama wouldn’t take me because she had a dinner date with some hot-shot lawyer that night. So, I took the bus there myself. I waited for three hours to get into that exhibit. Once I got into the exhibit, the place was crowded with thousands of people. The Knoxberry family stood in the center of the gallery, standing on the red carpet, all fifteen of them, from the great-grandfather all the way down to the youngest child. So I thought anyway.” Nina dried her face.

I looked at Nina as she ran her fingers over the signature.

“While the paparazzi was in awe over these rich celebrities, the crowd was really in awe over the two little mixed kids in the back of the gallery. The little girl, who couldn’t have been older than two or three years old, stood there posing while this little boy, who couldn’t have been older than five or six, was standing on a stool painting this girl’s portrait on the wall!” Nina was in tears talking about the little boy. “This wasn’t just a painting but a mural! The painting had to at least be 15 x 16 feet, Kourtney, and it might have taken this boy a good two hours to completely finish it. And when he finished it, he signed the bottom right hand corner of the wall with ‘Tim’. The whole crowd was stunned to silence watching this little mixed-raced kindergartener drawing this picture. Everyone was taking pictures, girl. The governor was there. All types of prestigious people were supposed to be there, meeting the entire Knoxberry family, but instead, they were in awe over this little boy. I wanted to meet him; oh, I had to meet this kid! I wanted to be able to talk to him, at least get his autograph, because I knew that day that he was gonna be somebody. I had no idea that he was even a part of that family until the family made their way out of the gallery. I pushed my way through to the crowd to get to the little boy, when I saw King Knoxberry signaling the boy and his sister to come along with them. I snuck my way behind them, following far behind, until they got to their stretch limo. And the moment that they were away from the crowd of people, King Knoxberry, the most known of the Knoxberry men, punched this little boy in the face, before shoving him into the back of the limo.”

My eyes widened.

Nina shook her head, drying her face. “Poor little boy and his sister were outcasts of that family because they were black. That’s why you never see them on television, Kourtney. That’s why you never see their name in lights. Of course, they have to acknowledge the youngest boy’s name because, as you can see and as I saw back then at the age of twelve, this boy has undeniable talent. Timothy Knoxberry doesn’t even sign his portraits with the family’s last name. Last I heard of his sister, she dances for a dance team at Howard University called Black Beauty. I think her name is Roxanne. You should look her up. I would give anything to meet them, hear their story. I am sure it’s just as painful as ours, if not worse. They weren’t wanted either.”

I shook my head, finally realizing why my sister was so into the arts. Why she was so intrigued by that little boy with so much talent. “Well, I know a person who could probably hook up a meet and greet. But I’m hearing that Timothy isn’t free until like next December.” I said.

Nina nodded. “I’m sure he’s busy. The man is an architect, a famous photographer. Not to mention, he owns several tattoo shops in Maryland, DC, and Virginia! You should check out his family’s art institute in Maryland. I think that would be a good idea, now that you finally decided to do something with your own artistic talents.” Nina grinned at me.

I just looked at her.

“Ya know, online classes, boo. You don’t have to leave me if you don’t want to, if that’s what you think I’m saying.” Nina watched me puff some more from my blunt.

It wasn’t that. I was thinking of leaving Punta Cana anyway. I loved it there, but Saint was right; I needed to spread my wings and begin to fly on my own.

“So, how does Saint know Timothy Knoxberry?” Nina asked.

I hesitated.

“C’mon, Kourtney, don’t try to play me.” Nina shook her head at me. “The one picture that hung in my shop back in Goldsboro was by Timothy Knoxberry. Just about every time Saint came in my shop, he’d stop and admire the painting. He mentioned knowing the artist. I thought he was just joking, but I should have known that he wasn’t. Saint knows every got-damn body. Anyway, he told me that if I ever wanted a painting by this guy, he could get it.” Nina looked back at the portrait. “And he did get it. Ol’ crazy ass Saint.”

I was a little offended at first. There I was, going out of my way to try to find something that was different than the pots and pans that our friends gave to her as wedding gifts, and she was still giving all the credit for my efforts to Saint.

“Well, it was my fuckin’ idea, Nina—I’m the one who gave him this picture from my phone, so he’d give it to the muthafucka so he could paint it for you.” I shook my head.

Nina looked at me, “Why are you getting offended?”

“Because I went out of my way, trying to get you something that you love, and you still don’t give me credit for trying.” I sighed.

Nina grinned a little. “You don’t even know who Timothy Knoxberry is, boo. You have no idea that this picture is worth millions. Saint knows that; that’s all I’m saying. I love you for this picture, Kourtney, and everything else that you have done for me.”

“It was my idea, Nina,” I repeated, ignoring her attempts to try to make me feel like something after she’d already discredited my attempts to please her. “If you want the present to be from Saint though, it’s cool. The nigga got it for you, the nigga knows what you like, the nigga is in love with his ‘little Nina’. There, are you happy?”

Nina looked at me, a hurt expression sweeping across her face. I knew she missed Saint. I knew she regretted the way that things went down. If Ricque never came back in town for that concert, Nina would have been stuck like glue to Saint. Seventeen years had gone by, and Nina never thought fate would bring the two back together. Turns out, fate was nicknamed Saint. He was the only reason why Ricque got the nerve to stand up and face his past. If Saint hadn’t of stepped up to the plate to fight for both himself and Nina, Ricque would have kept on running. Saint was that dude; I’m sorry, shit.

“Nina, you don’t have to marry Ricque.” I finally told her after holding it in for damn near six months. “It’s been seventeen got-damn years, boo, shit!” I had to remind her of how long the two had been apart.

“You don’t believe love can last forever, Kourtney, and that’s cool. But me and Ricque are forever, so believe that shit.” Nina tried convincing herself that she didn’t feel some type of way about Saint.

I shook my head. “No, I don’t believe that shit. I believe true love makes you go for what you know belongs to you, the way that Saint did. He fought for you, Nina, and really didn’t give a fuck what anyone had to say. He fucked your ass to sleep and sent naked pictures of you to his own brother, you’re not so ex-boyfriend—just to show the nigga what he’d been missing for seventeen years! That’s the shit I’m talking about! That’s muthafuckin’ love. Love ain’t scared to face anything or anyone. Saint was tired of waiting for his brother to came to his senses, so he stepped in to wake his ass up. Saint may have been wrong, but I respect that dude, real talk.”

Nina just looked at me, her big brown eyes searching my face.

Please don’t get me wrong; I like Ricque, but there was just something about Saint’s love and dedication to my sister that sparked something inside of me. The boy could have gone on lying to Nina, but he didn’t. He didn’t have to reunite the two, but he did. His guilt got in the way of his own feelings for her. He saw Nina, he got a taste, and then he returned her heart to its rightful owner. The day he saw Nina in that wedding gown at her dress fitting, I saw in his eyes how much he really wanted and desperately needed that girl. He knew that Ricque wasn’t going to go on any longer without tagging that girl with his last name. Saint just hoped that the connection that he had with Nina was stronger than Nina’s yearning for Ricque, the brother who already had everything.

“Kourtney, Ricque is the other half of me; I love him. Saint will be okay—you’ll make sure of that. Won’t you?” Nina’s lips trembled. She dried her face. Even she didn’t believe that Saint was going to be okay. “You’re not about to make me cry anymore today, Kourtney; you know crying is so not in my got-damn blood. Let this shit rest. Saint will be fine.”

“No, Saint is not okay; Saint is not fine. And neither are you, Nina. Just talk to the man. Be friends with him.” I begged her.

Nina shook her head. “I can’t.”

“Why not?” I asked, already knowing the answer. “Don’t act like he doesn’t exist just because Ricque’s back.” I watched as Nina started to put the portrait of us back in it’s wrapping paper. “Nina? Boo?”

“What?” Nina cried out loud.

I just looked at her, waiting to hear the words come out of her mouth, so I wouldn’t have to say them for her.

Nina sighed. “I miss him, Kourtney, you know I do.” Nina dried her face.

“Well, then tell him.” I sighed.

Nina shook her head. “No, because then he’ll think that he has a chance with me, and he doesn’t. I’m not gonna lie; I was really feeling Saint, but you already knew that it was only because, when I looked at Saint, I saw my baby, Ricque. And the fact that Saint knew that shit is the reason why I’m so angry at him! Yeah, I know Saint loves me, but I also know that I love Ricque, and I have always only loved Ricque.”

I just puffed on the loud, wishing I had given her the present when everyone else was giving out gifts. Then, maybe I would have never felt so stupid. I watched my cousin drown in her pain since we were fifteen-years old. She missed Ricque. And yes, when she saw Saint, she was instantly attracted to him because he did resemble Ricque. But I believe there was more to it than that. The two were nothing alike other than their accents. When all hope was lost, Saint gave Nina a reason to keep on breathing. He never gave up trying. But when he saw Nina in that wedding dress, something about him changed. The part of Saint that believed in love died right then.

***

“I got my baby back in my life. I got my baby back, and she’s about to be my wife. The girl whose smile just stole my heart; the girl I miss when we’re apart. I went away, but I’m here right now; I’ll never leave again, this to you I vow. I live you, I breath you, I love you, I need you; I missed you, wanted to kiss you, I cried for you, almost died for you. With this ring, I pledge to you my…”

Your girl was in tears watching Ricque sing, rap, do whatever smooth shit he always did to Nina on their wedding day. I watched my sister rush across the sand of that beach in Punta Cana that beautiful, sunny afternoon, racing into her husband’s arms. It was the sweetest sight you could ever see. I’m not even one to believe in true love, but when I saw those two laughing and crying in each other’s arms, I felt a little twinge in my chest. Watching those two join together in holy matrimony, after all they’d been through, after all that time they’d been apart, I couldn’t help but turn into a believer. That was until I looked to my right and saw that Peanut was sitting hand in hand with Niq’.

“How you feeling, cuz?” Nina grinned over her shoulder at me that afternoon as I helped her remove her wedding veil. Oh, it was so pretty. Pretty, Keisha, Lailah and I were helping my boo change out of her dress and into her reception outfit. I’d reserved a room at Ricque’s Uncle Carlos’ hotel, the same hotel that the reception was being held. I planned on getting laid by some muthafucka that night, probably someone from Ricque’s crew. Them muthafuckas looked so fresh and so clean in their white William Fioravanti suits.

I sighed, sitting her veil carefully in the hatbox that it came out of. “I’m good, boo.”

Nina laughed a little, knowing that I was lying. She knew that I was feeling some type of way about seeing Niq’ after not seeing the fucka since I was eighteen, some fourteen years ago. “You sure?”

Pretty, Keisha, and Lailah glanced at me as they helped Nina unzip her dress, carefully sliding it down. They took the dress from her body and helped her get it onto the mannequin that stood in the corner of the room. We were waiting on some of Ricque’s cousins to come with the box to put the mannequin in so that we could get the dress safely back to Nina’s mansion without any problems. The dress was worth millions.

I nodded, watching the four of them draping the dress over the mannequin. When I looked at that sparkling dress, all I could see was my sister in Ricque’s arms. That day was supposed to be the happiest day of her life, but it seemed as though it would be the saddest day of mine. I already knew that once Ricque was back in her life I wouldn’t see much of her unless I tagged along with her, traveling with them around the world. Pretending that I didn’t need a man was beginning to weigh down on my heart. Sleeping with men on the regular was a temporary fix, but it only lasted until the next day, when I woke up the next morning, alone.

“Girl, I can’t believe your friend, Peanut, is married to Tyson Unique! The shooting guard, point guard, or sometimes small forward for the New York Knicks! Whoot! That nigga is fine!” Pretty exclaimed.

I looked at her. That girl knew the salary and position of every got-damn football and basketball player. She was the girl that Saint was talking about—after a man for his pockets and not his heart. I shook my head. “Don’t nobody give a fuck about that nigga. And who invited him? Shit, who invited her?” I watched the four of them giggling about my saltiness.

“Well, it’s obvious that you care, boo, or you wouldn’t be all in your feelings about Pretty just mentioning the nigga’s name.” Lailah zipped the wedding dress in the back, smoothing the wedding dress out with her dainty hands. She looked at me, her dark brown, slanted eyes smiling. “Seems to me like your girl, Peanut, stole your boo.”