All Signs Point to You Part Two by Navaura Campbell (books you need to read txt) 📕

shocked. She'd no idea that Denise felt this way about her or anything from her past, and least of all about Jordan. He was such a nice young man. She waited till Denise was finished talking and they'd sat there silently starring across the room at one another, till finally Mrs. Richards spoke. "Wow."

Denise let out a hesitant laugh, "Well, I've felt like this for quite some time."

"So, you want me to quit my job?" Mrs. Richards inquired, stunned.

"No. I just want you to spend more time at home with your family. If I'd been able to talk to you about all of these issues, then maybe I wouldn't be having to do this now."

Renee nodded her head. "Ok. I thought you had gotten over Stacy's passing. You went to therapy for four years because of her death. When you got out, the doctors said that you were fine."

Denise sighed, and grabbed up the pendulum on her mother's desk, in the right hand corner. She grabbed one of the small beads and swung. It clacked against the other ones with a loud but steady sound. "Well, I did. I mean about as much as any girl can heal while talking to complete strangers. I really would've rather talked to you about it. You knew Stacy, you had been around her, you said that Stacy was like a second daughter to you."

Renee nodded. "Yes, she was, but Denise, Stacy's been gone for years, why bring this up now?"

"I'm just letting you know how I felt back then, mom. This has nothing to do with today. I've gotten past that."

Renee respected her daughter's straight forwardness. "So, what's the real problem?"

"Well, I would love to spend some time with you, get to know you." Denise stated, her tone even. She felt an ache that she had long since suppressed.

Renee raised a brow. "I'm your mother, what else do you need to know?"

Denise shook her head in frustration, "Of course, but I don't know anything about you. I find it strange that we've lived together for seventeen years and I still don't know anything about you. Do you really know anything about me?"

Renee exhaled sharply, "I know some stuff about you."

"Such as what?"

"Your favorite color is baby blue. You love stuffed animals, and you love to play tennis."

"And..." Denise persisted.

"And..." Her mother tried to think of something else, but came up blank.

”“And," Denise began, "of the facts that you named, only one is still a favorite. Tennis. I grew out of stuffed animals, I don't mind blue, but it's not my favorite color. After Stacy's death, I changed it to white and then after therapy I changed it to Yellow, now, it's a morbid black. My favorite school subject is History, because I want to one day work in The New York Museum. I currently have a GPA of three point nine, but I don't know if I'll even pass Mr. Kerris's class, considering he tries to kill us with the work, and oh yes, I have been doing some soul searching you know, just to find out who I am and what I want, thanks to my good friend Quinton, who's gay just so you know."

Renee inhaled sharply, "ok, wow. What do you want to talk about Denise?"

Denise cleared her throat. "Well, that other stuff isn't as important right now as my relationship with Jordan." She stated, starring her mother in the eyes.

"Ok, I thought you two broke up?" Renee frowned with this statement.

"We did. We broke up because of my stupidity."

"Why'd you break up?" Her mother now had her face in her hands and was leaning across her desk.

Denise wandered how many times she'd actually told this story as she went into the details.

After Denise completed her story, her mother sat behind the desk quite perplexed. She wanted to respond, but wasn't exactly sure how to do so, since what she really wanted to say might really hurt her daughter's feelings. Sighing, she said, "OK, let me get this straight, you never had sex with him, but accused him of using you for sex?"

Denise nodded, licking her lips, seeing how dumb it actually sounded now.

Renee nodded, and tried to hold her laughter in.

"And...get this mom, Sherry told me that. If I hadn't listened..."

"Who's Sherry?" Renee's laughter settled in the pit of her stomach as she asked about this girl.

"Some stupid girl that thinks she's at the top of the food chain. She doesn't like me because I stand up to her and..."

"So, wait..." Renee leaned forward on her elbows, looking at her daughter, "You mean to tell me that you don't even like this girl, and somehow you managed to let her convince you that Jordan was no good?"

Denise blushed, feeling dumber by the second. "Rub it in thick mom."

Renee swallowed more of her laughter through a deep breath. "Ok. Any how, go on."

"So, after we break up, Quinton suggest I go on this journey of figuring out myself and one of these processes involves me telling you this as well as confronting Sherry."

"Confronting Sherry for what?" Renee asked.

"Well, it's her fault that Jordan and I broke up in the first place." Denise stated.

Renee raised a brow, interesting choice of words. "How is it her fault?"

"Because, had she not spoken those words to me, it wouldn't have happened." Denise stated, her arms now folded across her chest.

Renee shook her head, disagreeing, "No. You can't blame her for that."

Denise rolled her eyes, "Whatever mom, if she wasn't such a b..." Denise stopped and replaced that word with witch.

Renee sighed and said, "Denise, it's as much as your fault as it is hers. I know for a fact that you are a control freak."

Denise shrugged. "I don't try to control people."

"But you try so hard to keep your life in a compactable device. I mean, from the time you were a child, you always decided what was and what wasn't."

"I just know what I like and what I don't."

"No, there's more to it than that. I remember when you met Stacy in the first grade, you actually ventured out more and she seemed to ease your need to be on top all the time. You allowed her to lead instead of yourself and I think with Jordan, it's the same way. You actually trusted him more than you wanted too, so that scared you. You're afraid to let him take the lead."

Denise sighed and thought about this.

"What you need to do Denise, and I'm only telling you this, because you came to talk to me about this, " Mrs. Garrette stated, "Is prove that you love Jordan. But, for some reason you don't want to admit your mistake."

Denise quickly rebutted, "I do believe I made a mistake."

"Have you told him this?" Mrs. Garrette inquired.

Denise sighed, "No."

"Then you haven't taken the necessary track to healing your relationship."

Denise let out an exasperated sigh, "Mom, he's got another girl."

Mrs. Garrette heard the pain in her daughter's voice. She thought carefully about this. "How long have they been dating?"

Denise wiped a lone tear from her cheek. "A month."

Mrs. Garrette smiled, temporarily confusing her daughter. "A month is nothing compared to ten. You can get him back."

"Didn't you always say never chase guys?" Denise wanted to know.

"Yes, but in your case, because you pushed him away, you have to show him that you want him. You made a mistake." Renee explained.

"But mom..." Denise began, but Renee cut her off. "Do you love him?"

Denise sighed, "Yes."

"Then prove it."

Denise left her mom's office, overwhelmed with her thoughts, feeling so much pain, hope, fear, everything at once. She wanted to cry, but the tears wouldn't come. She wanted to stop the trembling, but found her efforts useless. She went and used the phone to call Lasaire, who had offered to come and get her if her mother wasn't going to be done with her work day. Denise picked up the receiver and dialed Lasaire's number.

 

 

Chapter Thirty Four: The Plan

 

 

Diary, Now that I know what went wrong and that it was me who did the wrong, I must say that I am not that great at apologizing. How do I get him to listen? Do I just go up to him and start talking, or do I talk to him in class? What? I don't know. It's confusing. Plus, he has a girlfriend. One who's very pretty and seem like she's extremely nice. She and him are a-lot alike. They are the perfect couple, so I think that there's no possible way he'd give me a second chance. To choose me over her, that's preposterous.

Well, that's all, I'm going to bed now,

Love always, Denise

December 5, 1998

Jordan grabbed the gallon of cool aide from the fridge and brought it to the table where he and his mother sat. She stared at him, not saying anything in particular, which drove him crazy. He hated when she did that. This look only meant something was going through her mind and had more often than not. He sat down in his seat and picked up his fork. He was about to tear into the pecan pie she'd made, but stopped when he felt her gaze become acute.

"What?" He inquired, raising his head to look at her. Shaking her head, she responded, "Nothing."

"Why do you keep staring at me?" He wanted to know, while setting his fork on the side of his plate.

"Well, I was thinking of how much you look like your father." She commented, taking the pitcher he'd sat in the middle of the table, to fill her glass.

"Oh. Do I really look a lot like him?" Jordan asked, swelling with pride.

"Yes. He would be so proud of you right now." She stated, smiling.

Jordan noticed the tears in her eyes, "Mom, it's alright." He grabbed her hand and held it in his.

Mrs. Williams wiped her eyes, inhaled sharply and cleared her throat. "Jordan, it's been a whole month since you and Sebrea started dating one another, when are you going to bring her to dinner?"

"I'm not ready yet." He stated, sticking the fork into his pie. Mrs. Williams sighed, "You know, I'm starting to think you're using Sebrea." Jordan didn't respond, just continued eating.

"I mean, she's a very sweet girl, who deserves better than what you're giving her." Mrs. Williams took another sip of her drink.

Jordan felt the tips of his ears began to burn. He was not using Sebrea. He'd never asked her for anything.

"It's been a month and you don't talk about her hardly ever, and not only that, you refuse to bring her anywhere near this house. I wonder how much about yourself have you told her?"

Jordan swallowed the pecan pie, the dessert tasteless as it went down. "Why are you saying that, mother?" He looked across the table at Anita Williams, his green eyes, veiled.

"Because, Jordan, if you were really interested in her, you'd treat her the same way you treated Denise, but you don't."

Jordan shook his head, oblivious to his mother's meaning. "I open doors for her, I call her. When we go out, I spend my money and we have good conversation. Why do I have to bring her home?"

"Because it would mean you're serious about her." Anita stated.

"What do you mean? I'm not trying to get serious. I'm enjoying the moment right now."

Mrs. Williams sighed, and propped her elbows up on the table, putting her face into her hands. "Enjoying the moment?"

He shrugged his shoulders.

"Jordan, I've never known you to enjoy the moment. You've always gone after what you want. If it held no interest for you, you left it where it was at. Never spending more time than what you were willing. Now, Sebrea is very pretty and she deserves the best."

Jordan rolled his eyes.

"Don't roll your eyes at me, Mr. Williams. I'm speaking the truth. You're using her to compensate for your fall out with Denise. Does she even know about Denise?"

"Mom, I really don't