The trick is to keep busy, Keisha thought two weeks later as she pulled her Ford Focus into a parking space in front of her mother’s home. The cherry blossom trees she loved so dearly now had bare branches, and a cold wind swept fall leaves along the sidewalk.
You don’t have time to think about heartache when your schedule is full.
For the past week, Keisha had been jumping from meeting to meeting like the Energizer Bunny with springs to outrun her misery. A few of the staffers had even remarked about how fervent Keisha seemed lately, how tireless she had become. She had explained it away, claiming the Dupré campaign’s dirty tricks brought out the fight in her, but there were other reasons.
First of all, Phil was now watching her like a hawk. She was starting back at square one with him and had to prove to him again that, above all else, she wanted Dr. Parker to win and she was willing to do anything necessary to make that happen.
Another reason, the most important reason Keisha was working so hard, was because she wanted to outrun the sadness she felt now that her romance with Will had ended. The two hadn’t seen or spoken to one another since that night at the coffee shop, and she had no intention of ever seeing him again. But Keisha hadn’t felt a pain like this in her life. It was like her heart had been ripped out of her chest and crushed underfoot. In her weaker moments, she would just start crying, even sobbing. But those moments were becoming farther and farther between. Keisha was slowly figuring out how to cope, how to take a deep breath and shift her concentration to something else. Today she would shift her focus to her mother, who was now stuck at home with a bad cold.
Keisha quickly climbed the steps to her mother’s brownstone with shopping bags in hand and painted a smile on her face that she hoped would fool the woman who always managed to see right through her. She unlocked and opened the front door and found her mother lying on the living room couch, watching television with a wool blanket over her legs.
“KeKe,” Lena croaked hoarsely with a smile. The older woman wiped her nose with a tissue and opened her arms to her daughter. “Thank you for coming by, baby. You didn’t have to, though,” she said as Keisha leaned down and kissed her cheek. Lena stared at the grocery bags and frowned. “What do you have there?”
Keisha grinned as she patted one of the bags. “Lots of cough syrup, OJ, and the ingredients for a fresh batch of chicken soup,” she proclaimed.
“Chicken soup?” Her mother slowly rose from the couch, but paused to release a phlegm-filled cough that made Keisha cringe. “I have plenty of cans of chicken soup, KeKe.”
“Not that processed stuff, Ma,” Keisha said over her shoulder as she walked into the kitchen, shrugged out of her wool coat, and set her grocery bags on the counter. “I’m talking about real chicken soup. You know, like the kind you used to make me when I was little.”
“Well, thank you, honey,” Lena murmured as she slowly lowered herself into one of the chairs at the table on the other side of the kitchen. She loudly blew her nose again and sighed. “But you didn’t have to. I’m sick and I appreciate seeing you, but I could just as easily heat up a bowl of soup myself.”
Keisha quickly shook her head as she pulled off the shrink wrap from a chicken breast. She had already tossed carrots and celery into a strainer that was sitting under running water in the stainless steel sink. “Ma, of course I have to,” she insisted. “You aren’t feeling well. What else should I be doing?”
Lena chuckled. “You could be at home snuggled up with that man of yours, for one.” Lena adjusted her robe belt and tilted her head. “When do I finally get to meet him, anyway? I’ve heard so much about him. I’m interested in seeing this Will Blake in person. Why don’t you invite him over for one of our Thursday dinners?”
The blade that Keisha had been using to methodically slice the chicken breast stopped. She could feel the tears welling in her eyes again. She took a deep breath, blinked, and then forced the smile before returning to cutting the chicken into strips. “I don’t think that’s possible,” she said, clearing her throat. “Will and I…well, we decided to go our separate ways.”
Lena’s mouth fell open. “Separate ways? But I…I thought you two were in love.” Lena rose from the table and walked over to Keisha. She placed a warm hand on her daughter’s shoulder. “I’m so sorry, honey,” she murmured. “I’m so…What…what happened?”
Keisha shrugged. “Oh, you know how it goes,” she replied, trying to sound casual. “Boy meets girl. They’re hot and heavy one moment and arguing the next. Then they step back and realize that it just isn’t going to work. Boy loses girl. The end.” She shrugged again, refusing to meet her mother’s eyes. “We both agreed it was for the best. No hard feelings,” Keisha lied as she bent down to retrieve a sauce pan and lid from one of the floor cabinets. She filled the pan with water. “Do you want some orange juice, Ma? It may help your throat.”
“Keisha, look at me,” her mother ordered.
“Huh?” Keisha asked distractedly. She turned off the faucet.
“Look at me, baby.”
Keisha turned and met Lena’s warm dark eyes. She’s going to see everything, Keisha thought with dread.
The older woman stared up at her, slowly scanning her features, reading them like a book. Lena then closed her eyes and sighed. “This isn’t what you wanted,” she said with a slow shake of the head.
“Yes, it is,” Keisha insisted. “It’s what we agreed to.”
Lena slowly walked back to the kitchen table and slumped into one of the wooden chairs. “It may be what you agreed to, KeKe, but your heart wasn’t in it. It’s written all over your face.” She frowned. “I don’t know what happened, but I hope he didn’t hurt you. Because if he did,” she said fiercely, “I’ll hunt him down and hurt him.”
Keisha gave a wry smile. Her mother was sweet and protective, Keisha’s five-foot, one-inch defender. But she couldn’t go around beating up all the men that broke Keisha’s heart. She couldn’t make them love her back.
“Don’t worry about me, Ma,” she said softly as she began to fill a glass with orange juice. “I’m a big girl who can take care of herself…and I can heal quicker than you think,” she said as she placed the glass in front of Lena. “I’m already starting to get better.”
Lena gave a heavy sigh as she pushed her dreads over her shoulder. “Yeah, I thought I was a quick healer, too, KeKe, a long time ago. But you figure out that the wounds just become calloused over. You’re never going to be the same again. They will always be there and—”
“Ma,” Keisha said impatiently, holding up her hands. “Can we…can we change the subject, please? I’ll talk about anything else you want, just…not this.”
Lena grew silent and then slowly nodded her head. “Okay, baby. If that’s what you want.” The older woman peered around the kitchen, looking as if she were trying desperately to think of something less painful to talk about. “Well, I’m glad to have your company anyway, KeKe.” She gave a soft laugh. “I think this is the first time in a long time that I’ll see you twice in one week.”
Keisha placed the strips of chicken into the sauce pan, placed the glass lid on top and frowned. “Actually, that’s the other reason why I wanted to come over today,” Keisha said as she adjusted the temperature for one of the burners to poach the chicken. She turned to face her mother, wiped her hands with a dish towel, and shrugged. “I’m afraid that I’ll have to cancel our Thursday dinner this week.”
“Oh, no,” Lena said, looking crestfallen. “Work again?”
“Afraid so,” Keisha said as she wiped the Formica countertop. “Phil wants us to meet some guy for drinks Thursday evening who says he knows a deep, dark secret about Dupré.” She swung the towel over the edge of the sink and rolled her eyes. “Personally, I think the whole thing’s stupid. Even if he does have some dirt on Dupré, I don’t think this is the best tactic to take. But when Dupré’s campaign started playing dirty first, it didn’t leave us with many options.” She shrugged. “Because of the revelation of Dr. Parker’s juvenile record, the voters are starting to shift back over to Dupré again, according to poll numbers. Phil’s sure that we have to move forward with this if we want to stop that trend.”
Keisha turned to find Lena staring at her. The expression on the older woman’s face was peculiar, as if she had just seen her daughter sprout another head. Keisha guessed the cold medicine was finally starting to take effect. “You all right, Ma?” she asked with concern. “You’re looking a little weird.”
“What dirty secret, Keisha?” Lena asked quietly.
Keisha frowned and shrugged again before starting to slice the vegetables for the chicken soup. “I have no idea. He said he’ll tell us when we get there. He was pretty vague. Phil thinks he wants to maintain the element of surprise,” she said sarcastically as she popped a slice of carrot into her mouth. “But personally, I think the guy’s full of crap and we’re wasting our time.”
Lena vigorously shook her head. “Don’t go.”
Keisha glanced over her shoulder at her mother, only half listening. “What?” she asked distractedly as she started to chop the celery.
“Don’t go!” Lena shouted hoarsely as she quickly rose from her dinette table. “I can’t believe you would even think about going to do…” Lena stopped short and pointed angrily at Keisha. “This…this is why I didn’t want you to give up your teaching job and get mixed up in this mess! I knew this would happen!”
Keisha gazed at her mother in confusion. The older woman was visibly trembling. “What would happen? What are you talking about?”
Lena furiously shook her head. “You can’t do this! You can’t do this!” her mother shouted, making Keisha flinch. She continued to stare at her mother in bewilderment. “Understand something, Keisha Jeanette Reynolds. You are going to lose with this one. Nothing good can come from it! Nothing good!”
“Ma, I have no choice. I have to do it.” Her shoulders fell as she sighed. “Look, somehow Phil found out about Will and me before we broke up. He’s paranoid that I’m some kind of double agent, working for the other side. If I tell him we shouldn’t do this, I’m probably going to lose my job!” She closed her eyes. “Ma, I understand you don’t like this sort of thing. I’m not crazy about it, either. But this is politics. This is how the game is played and—”
“That is crap, Keisha! And you know it!” Lena glared at her. Her little nostrils flared. “I can’t…I can’t even…” Her words trailed off as she began to walk out of the kitchen.
“Ma!” Keisha called. “Ma, where are you going? What about your soup?”
“I’m not hungry!” her mother shouted back. Keisha heard her mother’s bedroom door slam shut seconds later.
She slowly shook her head. “What the hell was that about?”