Yearning

© 2013 by Carlotta Arradondo. All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted by any means without the written permission of the author.

Published by AuthorHouse 08/13/2013

ISBN: 978-1-4817-5469-9 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-4817-5467-5 (hc)

ISBN: 978-1-4817-5468-2 (e)

Library of Congress Control Number: 2013909409

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Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any web addresses or links contained in this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid. The views expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.

Contents

Acknowledgments

Chapter 1

Rachel

Chapter 2

Morning After

Chapter 3

Growing Up

Chapter 4

Lunch Date

Chapter 5

New Beginning

Chapter 6

Taking Responsibility

Chapter 7

Stepping Out

Chapter 8

Welcomed Change

Chapter 9

The Double Surprise

Chapter 10

Parent’s Blessings

Chapter 11

Coming To Terms

Chapter 12

Missed Opportunity

Chapter 13

Shawn Who

Chapter 14

The Naked Truth

Chapter 15

Drama At The Mall

Chapter 16

A Night Out

Chapter 17

Things Have Got To Change

Chapter 18

Moving Away

Chapter 19

Little Secret

Chapter 20

My Man’s Back

Chapter 21

You’re Number One

Chapter 22

Sista’s Reunite

Chapter 23

House Guest

Chapter 24

Karizma

Chapter 25

Joyce And Charlie

Chapter 26

Let The Truth Be Told

Chapter 27

Life Goes On

Chapter 28

Graduation Day

Chapter 29

The Ceremony

Chapter 30

The Party

Chapter 31

Getting To Know You Better

Chapter 32

The Atl

Chapter 33

Take A Chance

Chapter 34

Drama In The Atl

Chapter 35

Deacon’s Dinner

Chapter 36

The Interview

Chapter 37

Daddy’s Gone

Chapter 38

Sudden Departure

Chapter 39

You’re Going To Be A Daddy

Chapter 40

Saying Goodbye

Chapter 41

Unexpected Return

Chapter 42

Just The Beginning

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

First and foremost, I would like to thank God, the creator of the universe, because without him I would not have had the courage to bring this book to life. Next, I would like to thank Ralph and Peter who were my very first editors, and who encouraged me to take my book a step further. I also want to thank my auntie Dottie, who helped proofread, and edit. To my sisters Loretta, Teresa, and Tina thanks so much. To my nieces and nephews Michael, Kalin, Leontay, Jahmier, U-Niquewa, Tiara and Nyjee, I love you all. I would also like to thank my mother and Step father, Otha and Shirley Arradondo-Jackson, and also thanks to Mr. and Mrs. Wiley (RIP). I can’t forget Don; thank you much for taking time out of your hectic schedule to give helpful feedback. I can’t forget Rodney, thanks for allowing me to sit in the quiet of your bedroom to write bits and pieces of this book. Wow! That was so long ago. Those were the good old days. Much appreciated. Shawnta C Richard, author of Situations; thank you for giving me the vehicle (AuthorHouse) I needed to make my dream a reality. To my friend, Bridget, thanks for reading and proofreading my novel with honesty. Again, thanks for the invitation to St. Louis. We had a blast, and the shoes were off the chain. In addition, I would love to thank my sons for being there for me on this roller coaster ride of a project. Joseph, continue to do your barbering thing, and remember you are never alone; you have my granddaughter Nevaeh, and my grandson Nasir to keep you company. Ha-Ha. Chance, your book is next; watch out now. I’m very proud of both of you, and never forget it. You two have made me exceptionally proud, so keep striving for excellence and excellence is sure to come. Last, but certainly not least, I would like to take this opportunity to thank Mr. Haythem for designing the beautiful cover. It took a lot of emailing and Facebooking to work this out, but you made it happen. Thanks again for bringing Yearning back to life. Now I must thank Dalona Diddy Marie Ethridge. Thank you, girl, for gracing the cover of this book. I am so grateful your beautiful self said yes with no hesitation. It’s so much appreciated. To my design team, publishers and editors from AuthorHouse, you were the answer to my publishing dreams. Thanks once again.

CHAPTER 1

Rachel

R achel felt at peace cruising down the highway, heading home from her gallery in downtown Minneapolis. From the moment she unlocked her door and stepped inside, her whole vibe changed from bright yellow to midnight blue.

It’s a damn shame I can’t take off my shoes, and relax in my own home, without that nagging red light staring me in the face! I just won’t answer the damn phone!

She screamed as if she were talking to someone in the living room. Then she slammed the front door so hard vibrations moved along the walls, and her prized painting came crashing to the living room floor. It was all she could do not to burst into tears, but her painting was the least of her concerns. The sight of the flashing light on the caller ID box sent her into a tizzy; her agonizing reminder she hadn’t checked her messages in days. She hated it when a phone call had such a negative effect, but the more she saw red, the more agitated she became. She swore if she received one more harassing phone call, she would pull somebody’s hair out.

After throwing her purse and briefcase to the floor, she grabbed the dustpan and broom and began cleaning the mess she’d made. Then without thought, she found herself standing in front of her desk, daydreaming and staring at the caller ID box as if it were her worst enemy.

Moments later, she was twirling from side to side in her black leather chair, playing with her engagement ring and peering out the picture window.

Damn! I’ve given this too much energy, she sighed, while massaging her temples in anticipation of a migraine coming on.

Rachel kept pain relievers in her desk drawer for times like these. So once she found them, she took three, and rushed to the kitchen to wash them down with a glass of water. As she tried to gather her thoughts, she stood motionless over the sink. That’s when her head began to pound as her mind raced to three days earlier. It was the day she broke up with Anthony; she couldn’t shake it, and relived it again in her mind. She had come home that Tuesday evening around 6:00 p.m., like always, expecting Anthony to call. However, on that night when the call came, the voice on the line was not Anthony’s.

Is this Rachel Moore? The nameless caller inquired.

This is she!

Good, I finally get to speak to you.

Who’s calling? Rachel questioned with uneasiness in her tone. She knew something wasn’t quite right; the call was coming from a cellular registered in Anthony’s name—the cell phone he claimed to have lost months ago.

My name is Ms. Thomas, and my call is due to finding your number.

"You found my number huh? Rachel muttered sarcastically, a little taken aback by her comment. How can I help you?"

You can clarify why we have the same friend in common. As a matter of fact he’s been keeping secrets from you, and I thought it was time you knew!

Excuse me, did I miss something? Rachel inquired. Despite the fact the answer was right in front of her, but still eager to see where the conversation would lead, or so she thought.

Like I said, he’s been keeping secrets. We’ve been seeing each other for sometime and I gave him an ultimatum.

"Whom and what the hell are you taking about?" Rachel replied, agitated and puzzled, that her black sista would call her with such troubling news, and upset her spirit.

"I’m talking about Anthony, and this is Lacey, Anthony’s fiancée! I’m pregnant, we’re getting married, and I don’t want you or anyone else to come between us."

Rachel’s mouth fell open; she was livid, but refused to let this get the better of her.

"Look here, I don’t know you and you don’t know me, but I’m certain of one thing. You better not ever call my damn house again, disrespecting me—talking about my husband to be is engaged to you, and you’re pregnant." She said, wishing she could reach through the phone and shake Lacey up a bit for the nerve.

Whether you believe me or not, you needed to know. If you would like to hear him say it, he’s sitting right here. By this time the call dropped.

When Rachel’s phone rang again, she knew it was him. She tripped and fell over her footstool, trying to reach it.

"Hello," she said angrily, while massaging her baby toe to alleviate the pain.

Hey baby, how are you doing?

Don’t ‘hey baby’ me, Anthony. What’s up? Some woman just called here talking about you two. She told me that you’re engaged and she’s pregnant. You know anything about that? She laughed nervously, just waiting for him to lie.

What are you talking about?

You know damn well what I’m talking about! Is it true?

No! And I can’t believe you think I’m cheating! He shot back.

Anthony, cut the shit! You know damn well some woman just called here and you’ve been seeing her, haven’t you?

"You mean to tell me you believe someone who just called you out of the blue? (He paused, in an awkward silence.) Did she give you a name? He said, trying to spin it.

Anthony, is there something you need to tell me! Wanting to get to the bottom of it, her patience was wearing thin.

Rachel, I seen Lacey a few days ago. We had lunch and that was that! He said lying again, and knowing full well he’d been seeing her for the past three months.

"Oh, and you forgot to tell me!"

I didn’t think it was a big deal! He mumbled in a lackadaisical tone.

No! The problem is, you just didn’t think. What the hell is wrong with you? Why didn’t you tell me you had lunch with your ex-girlfriend, and for what? She began to cry.

Rachel, I’m sorry. I know I should have told you, but she just wanted to congratulate me on getting married,

"You . . . what happened to us? You can’t get married by your damn self! And if she cared so much, why didn’t she congratulate the both of us? Hell! That would have been the respectable thing to do. Who told her, anyway?"

My sister told her.

"Okay, enough is enough now! You haven’t spoken to your sister in years. Please, you don’t even like your damn sister." Rachel shot back.

Rachel, we patched things up.

"Okay, I’m done. You’re lying, so continue doing whatever it is that you do and leave me the hell alone." Rachel paced back and forth over the living room floor trying to make sense of it all.

Rachel, you’re blowing this way out of proportion. I’m coming over. We need to discuss this.

"Discuss what, the fact that you’ve been cheating on my ass? I don’t think so. Look here; leave your cheating ass, right where you’re standing. I’m through with you, and trust me from here on out, every time I see your good lying ass, there’s going to be some problems," she said, and slammed the phone down.

Why am I thinking about this again? she shouted.

She headed to the dining room to leaf through the outdated brochures she’d left in her briefcase. Her plan was to compare them to the new ones she ordered; thinking this would keep her mind occupied, until she could think up something else to do. It didn’t work, and once again she began daydreaming.

What the hell? she thought, throwing the brochures in the garbage pail.

She walked back to her desk, pressed the message button, and scrolled through the caller’s list. She was relieved that Anthony’s cell number didn’t appear. Why would it? Lacey had what she wanted; Anthony’s trifling ass—the man who stopped at nothing to make her life hell.

Lord knows I should be glad I’ve rid myself of that drama!

Rachel picked up the receiver, placed it to her ear, and listened to the messages. Her best friend Crystal had called a few times to see if she were all right and still in the mood to go out.

Rachel, this is the fifth time I’ve tried calling you today. Where are you? I know you’re not talking to that loser. Hang up on him and pick up this phone, so I can help you grieve and get over his ass, I can’t take it anymore. I’ll see you later, and you better be ready when I get there! Bye!

She’s right! I haven’t been myself.

Rachel deleted the last of the messages, hung up the phone and headed to the bedroom to change clothes. However, she only made it as far as the sofa when tears began to stream down her smooth brown cheeks.

How did I let him do this to me? she cried, retracing her steps back to the day she met him.

On a cold morning three years ago, on her way to work, Rachel stopped at a gas station for her usual mocha and fill. It was snowing heavily and not very many cars were on the road. The weather broadcast advised against traveling, and Rachel was one of the few to brave the north wind. There he was pulling up right behind her, getting out of his Ford Expedition. She could barely make out his face with all the snow falling around her, but suddenly their eyes met. He was caramel brown with hazel eyes. He stood well over six feet, and he wore a black leather bomber jacket and matching gloves. He approached her with a soft smile on his face. Rachel had a thing for tall brothas.

Hello, my name is Anthony Harris, he said, extending his hand to greet her. Do you come here often? I’ve never seen you here before.

Rachel took one long look at him, and stood quiet for a moment of silence, and then took his hand.

I come here when the car requires me to come, she chuckled.

"Funny, so what’s your name?" he asked, wasting no time to find out.

Rachel Moore.

Rachel, can I buy you a cup of coffee?

Yes, that would be nice, but let’s hurry inside. It’s cold.

Let’s do that, he replied, releasing her hand from his firm grip, as he slid his hand back inside his pocket. Has anyone ever told you that your hands are so beautiful? he said, trying to appease her.

Yes, my nail technician. I knew she worked miracles, she shot back playfully.

She reached for her gloves inside her coat pocket, and covered her nearly frost-bitten hands. Once they paid for gas and Rachel’s mocha, they exchanged numbers. Only one year later, Anthony proposed and things began to take a turn for the worst. Anthony started demanding all Rachel’s time and attention. He stated that it was her duty to fulfill his every need. Her close friend, Crystal, became enemy number one; she was a bad influence. Even Rachel’s wardrobe became a problem; it was too provocative, he said. He always made it a point to call the moment she walked through the door. All this manipulative behavior was wearing on Rachel’s last nerve, but in spite of all the insanity, there was still a wedding ring involved and Rachel had to have it. It was the only logical explanation she could come up with to continue living her life this way.

Rachel plunged deeper into the sofa feeling sorry for herself. She watched the ceiling fan go around and around above her head. Abruptly, her thoughts were interrupted by a knock at the door. Right away she jumped up, and wiped the tears from her eyes. The closer she came to the door, the more she could hear Crystal badgering to let her in.

Girl, I know you’re in there! Let me in! I’ve got to use the bathroom. she shouted at the top of her lungs.

That is so damn ghetto! Rachel countered, unlocking the deadbolt and opening the door.

Well, ghetto I will be if that’s what it takes for you to open your door! Crystal said sarcastically, rushing past her to the bathroom.

Damn! Slow down.

Hell no! I was about to use the bathroom on myself, and it took me forever to find this outfit. I’ll be damned if I had to go home and change. Crystal shouted down the hallway, and moments later joined Rachel back in the living room.

Sorry, girl, I didn’t mean to keep you.

I really wasn’t waiting that long; I just had to pee. Thank goodness you opened it when you did. Now how come you haven’t been returning my calls? I’ve been worried sick about you. I thought you might have messed around and hooked up with that no good ex-fiancée of yours. Crystal said, rolling her eyes and shaking her head at the very thought of seeing the two of them back together.

"Please! You know me better than that. I’ve moved on!" Rachel replied, clearly lying while heading down the hall to the restroom.

Yeah, right! That’s why you look like you’ve been crying and stuff! Crystal mumbled under her breath. What the hell, happened to the painting? She probably came in here slamming doors again, over Mr. No good!

"Don’t… take me to that place girlfriend, I heard you!" Rachel yelled, twisting her engagement ring from side to side to loosen it up. She removed it from her finger, took one last glimpse, and then set it inside her jewelry box, in the drawer beneath the sink.

It just wasn’t meant to be, she uttered, dabbing a cold wash cloth under her eyes to alleviate the puffiness from crying.

"Whatever!" Crystal mumbled from the living room searching Rachel’s CD collection for something to listen to. Rachel’s CD stand was full of jazz and R & B hits, and Crystal couldn’t wait to get her hands on one of them.

"Oh damn! When did she get Jill Scott’s new one? I might have to borrow this." Crystal uttered, stashing the CD inside her purse, until she could buy her own. Then off she went into the kitchen to search for something to eat.

Crystal stood five foot seven, had long thick legs, and a slender frame. She looked like a fashion model from any cover of a magazine. She had jet-black, shoulder length hair that she kept maintained to perfection. Her dark brown eyes complemented her creamy Hershey brown skin. Crystal wore little to no makeup. She always said anything more than a tad of blush and lipstick was too much for the kid, and she wasn’t going out like that. The two women were always mistaken for sisters, only Rachel was a shade lighter, with high cheekbones and stood a half-inch taller. In high school, people constantly called Rachel the troublemaker. She was always ready to fight and argue with any and everybody who called her the spoiled little rich girl. It’s held true to this day. However, when it came to love relations, regrettably, Rachel was the hopeless romantic; until she was fed up with the brotha she was dating. Then she became a ticking time bomb waiting to explode.

"Are you ready to go yet? Crystal yelled from the kitchen table, swallowing the last of her lasagna she had found in the refrigerator.

I have to change purses. Can you take my ID out of my wallet in there?

Yes! But where is it?

Look on the floor!

I got it, now let’s go! It’s getting late. Crystal insisted, setting her plate in the sink.

She turned off the stereo, and sat for another half hour waiting for Rachel to get ready.

Here I come! Rachel said, wandering down the hallway dressed to impress.

Good, it’s about time because I’m not at all interested in paying extra to get in, if we’re late. Crystal complained.

You just got paid today, with your cheap self!

So what does that mean? I don’t know about your money, but my money doesn’t stretch that far, and if I can recall, you said you’d pay this time anyway!

I said that? Well guess what? One of us won’t be going. Rachel chuckled.

Girl, you better come on, and stop playing with me. I paid last time. Crystal said, with a smirk on her face.

You know I’m just playing. Let’s go!

Once they were safely buckled inside the car and rolling down the street, Rachel started complaining about Crystal’s choice of music.

Crystal, what the hell are we listening too? I can’t stand it!

I don’t know! Derrick used my car the other day while his was getting detailed, so I don’t know what this is.

I should have grabbed my Jill Scott CD. It’s nice. Rachel said, changing the radio dial from one station to the next.

Girl, I got that in my purse!

Isn’t it nice? She can sing! I love me some Jill… Rachel replied.

Rachel, I haven’t heard it yet. It’s yours. She confessed reaching in the back seat to pull it out of her purse.

Oh, so now you’re stealing things?

Now you know I was going to give it back, that’s why I sat here and confessed.

Whatever, Crystal! Give me back my CD, before I mess around and never see it again.

Now you know I’d never do you like that! Crystal lied.

Yeah, that’s what you said about that last CD you borrowed. I can’t think of the name of it right now.

You can’t remember, because it was mine. I’m just returning the favor is all I’m trying to do. Crystal sneered.

Crystal, just play the CD if you want to hear it. Rachel shot back.

Oh, now see, I can feel all kinds of attitude up in here. Crystal teased.

Hush now, this is my cut, Rachel said, bouncing her head to the rhythm of the melody.

So Rachel is Robert coming?

"He said he was if Stacey picks up the girls like she’s supposed to. But damn, Crystal, you’re not trying to hear Jill . . . Either we’re going to talk or listen to Jill." she said, annoyed.

Crystal wouldn’t shut the hell up.

"Why can’t we do both? Anyway . . . Why wouldn’t she pick up the girls? Isn’t she court ordered?" Crystal asked turning the music down just a tad.

Court ordered! What the hell does that mean? You know how Stacey is, and I know you remember how she acted when she found out she could only see the girls certain days of the week. The chick went ballistic. So every chance she gets, she insists upon giving Robert a hard time. She’ll show up late, a day early, acting like she doesn’t know the damn rules.

If I’m not mistaken, she’s violating the court order. Robert knows that!

Well, when you find out let me know, because I’m tired of Rob going through all that crazy mess. And not doing anything about it, but I will! Although for some strange reason, Stacey and the girls have this mixed up understanding about when and if she’ll be picking them up. I swear I can’t figure it out.

Well, if it’s working, that’s all that matters.

I guess, so maybe he’ll be there, and maybe he won’t. I can’t call it. Rachel replied.

So is he dating anyone right now? I haven’t spoke to him in almost a month.

I know, and why not? He asks about you all the time. Rachel insisted.

I’ve been busy trying to figure out my man, so I haven’t had the time.

That’s no excuse, but why did you ask if he were dating anyone?

I want him to meet Samantha, Crystal suggested.

Isn’t she married?

Now, how many times I got to tell you, the girl isn’t married? They were never married—just together forever. I’m glad she finally got rid of him.

Now when did this happen?

Rachel, apparently you weren’t listening when I told you the first time!

Apparently not, but I’m glad he’s gone, too. Would you please… stop driving so fast? You made me smear my lipstick. Rachel braced herself, pressing her foot on the imaginary brake pedal.

I’m driving the speed limit. Now leave me alone, and let me do this! Crystal protested taking a sharp left into oncoming traffic.

Look, just don’t kill my ass. I want to live, thank you very much.

"Hush up and leave the driving to me, and stop complaining since you didn’t want to drive your car. Now back to Samantha and Robert. They’re both single, have two kids and just got out of messed up relationships. So what do you think?"

I’m not sure what to think.

Why not? Crystal nitpicked.

I just don’t think it would be a good idea.

Give me one good reason!

I can’t think right now, she lied.

Well, I think it’s a good idea! She’s meeting us there, so it’s settled.

So you just planned all this without my consent? Rachel said sarcastically.

"Basically, all I wanted was your feedback; your consent is not my concern. Plus Rob will be good for her. David put