Читать книгу Her Lover's Legacy - Adrianne Byrd, Pamela Yaye - Страница 11

Malcolm arrived home at midnight.

Exhausted didn’t describe it—more like he was bone weary. His eyes were dry from looking at too much paperwork. His back ached from loading one too many tubs of law books. The last thing he wanted to do now was unload it all and carry it up to his apartment. That would have to be another project for another time. For the time being he kept everything locked in his SUV. Tomorrow, he promised himself, he’d carry everything out to the family estate.

If not, then maybe the day after.

He slipped his key into the apartment’s lock, pushed the door open and felt a sense of relief when he stepped into the apartment’s darkness. First pit stop: the kitchen. Malcolm grabbed the last beer in the fridge and made a mental note to pick up a case while he was out tomorrow. His next stop was the living room, where he tumbled onto the leather couch. He caught view of the blinking red light on his answer machine.

Twelve messages.

Even before he hit the play button, he knew who the callers were.

“Malcolm?” Shawnie’s voice filtered through the speakerphone. “Are you there? Pick up if you’re there.” After a long pause, she sighed and continued. “Well, I was just calling to check on you. No one in the family has heard from you and…well, it’s really not the time to be alone, Malcolm. We all need you. We love you.” Another long silence and then, “Call me.”

Malcolm groaned while he slid a hand over his face.

The machine beeped and played the next message.

“Malcolm?” Tyson’s steel baritone punched through the apartment’s stillness. “C’mon, man. I know you’re there. Pick up.” After a few beats of silence his brother went on, “Look, man. I know you’re going through a rough time. Things being the way they were with you and Dad and all, but give me a call. We need to talk. And if you don’t feel like talking to me the least you can do is call Mom. She’s worried about you. Hit me up on my cell when you get this message.”

The calls alternated between Shawnie and Ty. Both of their voices thickened with concern each time he didn’t answer the phone. Malcolm was instantly sorry for making everyone worry. That had not been his intention.

On the last message, Malcolm’s heart tried to squeeze its way out of his chest when his mother’s wearied voice entered the room.

“Malcolm, baby. Are you there? Baby, please pick up the phone.”

Silence.

“All right, baby. You must not be there. I was just going through some old family photo albums. You keep drifting across my mind. Baby, I’m getting a little worried about you. I haven’t heard or seen you since the funeral. Give me a call.”

At first Malcolm had no intentions of calling any of them back this late, but there was something about his mother’s voice that tugged at his soul and made him pick up the phone and punch in her number. Even as he listened to the phone ring, he chastised himself for calling so late. She was probably asleep, he reasoned, and even hoped.

“I’ll call her tomorrow,” he said, and started to hang up.

“Hello?” His mother’s soft southern twang filtered over the line. “Malcolm?”

“Hey, Mom,” he answered with an aloofness he didn’t feel. “How are you?”

“Actually, that’s the question I wanted to ask you. Are you all right, baby?”

No was what he wanted to say, but he had some sense to at least pretend he was keeping it together. “Yeah. I’m all right. How are you holding up?”

“Well…I guess I’m doing about as well as can be expected.” Her voice grew heavier with each word. “I wish you were around more, though. Why haven’t you been by?”