Читать книгу Confessions - Sasha Campbell - Страница 11

I removed the last magazine from the rack and took a seat on the floor. Running a bookstore was hard work. But I wouldn’t have had it any other way. Book Ends was open seven days a week with a different event scheduled almost every evening. That night was open mic night, which meant I wouldn’t close the store until after nine. Not that I was complaining.

I looked across the store at Karen, my assistant, as she rang up another customer’s order. It was buy two, get one free day, and as usual the store had been busy. I was grateful business had been good. As much as I wanted a black bookstore, the only thing black about it is the owner. I learned that catering to just my people was not a smart business move. No offense, but you know good and well we like to borrow each other’s books instead of trying to support black bookstores, which is why so many have gone out of business. I’ll admit, I can’t compete with the prices at Walmart and some of the other online stores, but that’s why I offer specials. I also make sure I have books for everyone. White, black, Chinese, religious, you name it, I try to have it in my store.

“Nikki, the mail’s here,” Karen cried from the front counter. As soon as the last customers left, I rose from the floor and grabbed the mail from behind the counter.

“I’m running to Popeyes. You want me to get you something?”

I looked up at her gold-toothed smile. At first glance, Karen wasn’t what one would consider front desk material with her blond weave and long fake nails. But she was fresh out of business school with exceptional customer service skills. After two bad seeds, especially a thieving bitch by the name of Tiara, who I fired in November after discovering she was stealing books and selling them to her friends for a third of the price, Karen was a godsend. Trust and believe, I have a business to run, and if and when I need Karen to tone down the hair and clothes, I’ll tell her. I know she’s a single parent with four kids, so I don’t have a problem paying for her to get her hair done if needed.

I took a moment to consider Karen’s offer. I had planned to have a bag of popcorn and a diet drink, but I was sure by late afternoon I’d be hungry for some food. “Go ahead and take enough outta petty cash to cover both our lunches and grab me a two-piece white.”

“Thanks, Nikki.”

“No problem.” I waited until after Karen left before I headed to the back. I had a camera up front, and the bell over the door was so loud, it could be heard from the Dumpster in the alley. I popped a bag of butter popcorn, grabbed a Coke from the refrigerator, and when the timer went off, I carried my food back to my desk and took a seat. While I chewed on popcorn I thumbed through the mail, leaving greasy fingerprints. Bills and magazines, and then my heart practically stopped as I stared down at an envelope that was handwritten. Oh, my goodness! I knew that writing anywhere.

Donovan.

My hands were shaking as I reached for the letter opener. I ripped the seal, then I removed the sheet of notebook paper.

I hope all is well with you. Nikki, you know I love you and would never do anything to intentionally hurt you, but I’ve got to be honest. Being here is giving me a lot of time to think and I feel it’s time for us to move on. It appears over the last four years we stopped growing as a couple. Talking hasn’t done us any good, neither has distance, and I can’t keep living like this. It’s time I start trying to figure out what is going on with my life. That does not mean I do not love you. I know you will continue to be successful, and I wish you all the luck in the world. Twelve years of marriage, you don’t just wipe away. I want you to know if you need something you can always contact me. Love, Donovan.

My stomach dropped. I had waited months for a letter from him and finally it had come, only it wasn’t at all what I had expected. Donovan had just ripped my heart out. It’s time for us to move on. Those words floated around the store like a heavy cloud only seconds away from raining down on me. Damn him! The last thing I wanted to do was cry, because I’d known our marriage was in trouble long before Donovan left for Iraq. Yet that didn’t stop the tears. I couldn’t help it. I started bawling like a baby. Thank goodness Karen was gone and no one was in the store so I could sit there and feel sorry for myself. I failed at my marriage. Part of me thought, hoped, distance and time would bring us back together; instead it had done the exact opposite. What had gone wrong? As far as I was concerned, our life together should have been perfect.

Donovan and I both grew up in Englewood Park housing projects, where crack was the drug of choice. A week wouldn’t go by without somebody trying to kill someone else. That was just the way of life for us.

Mama struggled to raise my sister, Tamara, and me, and did everything she could working part-time as a cashier at the local drug store. Money was tight, but one thing about my mama, she knew how to make the dollar work. Clothes we got from the Salvation Army, but you’d be amazed at what she could find.

I had always been good at school and knew I wanted to be a nurse or in some other field helping people. I had big plans to have a better life, and so did Donovan.

Donovan and I didn’t start dating until junior high. He was a cutie then. Redbone, five ten, with a medium build, and the sexiest smile. Donovan grew up with an alcoholic father who kicked his ass on a regular basis. Whenever his father put him out, Donovan would come over and I would sneak him in through my bedroom window. We’d spend the night holding each other and planning a better life. I didn’t give him my virginity until our sophomore year, and I never regretted it. As soon as we graduated high school, we got married with my family’s blessing. Both of us attended college locally—he on a track scholarship, and me with the help of financial aid. We lived in a one-bedroom apartment that was no better than the projects, but neither of us complained. We had each other, and that’s all that truly mattered. I worked as a manager at Walgreens during the day and an intern at the radio station at night while Donovan opened a barbershop. When I found out I was pregnant, neither of us thought life could get any better. We were so happy. We saved everything we had and bought our first home one month before Mimi, short for Tamika, was born. It was hard juggling work and motherhood, but Donovan didn’t want someone else raising our daughter, so we arranged our schedule to make sure Mimi was always with one of us.

A sob rose to my throat and tears spilled and dampened my mail. I remember being so tired, so very tired. If only I hadn’t been so willing to please my husband and had insisted on a babysitter for help, maybe she…maybe things would have turned out differently.

I stared down at the tear-stained letter. According to its contents, it was time for me to say good-bye not to one but to two of the most important people to ever become a part of my life. Part of me still wasn’t ready to let go, even though deep in my heart I knew I had lost them both years ago.