Destiny

Chapter One



Rockville, MD



The translucent, pallid curtains, which led out to the balcony on the second floor of the house, swayed with the wind as the moon shone into the room, ringing the occupied king-sized bed.

A girl with wavy hair giggled and shrieked when Leo flipped her small, curvy self over to lie underneath him. Her darker skin felt soft against his rigid body, and the sounds she made hit him in places he never knew he had. Moreover, they were naked—the way he had wanted her ever since she entered his house—but right now, he was interested in making love to her without having sex. He wanted to kiss her, cuddle, and talk with her.

Leo looked down into her brown eyes with one of his hands under her double chin. A grin crossed his face before he lowered his head and kissed her rosy, swollen lips. They were like that candy that everyone finished first in the bag: addictive. Not even the top satin sheet that slipped off them and the bed, exposing them to the cool air from outside, interrupted the mood.

Through their gasps for air, the lovers nibbled on each other’s mouths as if they were having the best dessert: each other. Leo pulled away, or tried to, “I want us—” She interrupted his sentence with her own plans; she wrapped her arms around his neck and grazed his jaw before meeting his lips. He let her have what she wanted, throwing his plans aside.

Leo woke up sucking on his satin pillow and raised his head, looking around his bed and realizing that he was all by himself. He tossed the pillow across the room against the far wall and stared at his shaking hand. He really had a problem. Also, the sun illuminating the see-through curtains of the balcony bothered him, so he covered his head with his sheet. That dream had felt so real though. His very naked, aroused body was proof of that.

He wondered if she ever missed him. Was she miserable because of him? Because that would really cheer him up this morning. Leo groaned and stumbled out of the bed, jumping into a cold shower.

He no longer had that goatee he used to have fourteen years ago. He now had a mustache on his long face and a short haircut. His eyes, of course, were still black like his father’s. That woman probably wouldn’t recognize him if she saw him. She probably had her own children and married that loser she had called a fiancé.

Leo, glistening with beads of water, returned to the bedroom and placed his hands on his waist, with only a towel on. He looked down at his six-pack; he was a lean, light-skinned man, and those laps he did in the middle of the night helped a lot with his physique.

His black eyes wandered around his room. There were two nightstands on each side of the king-sized bed, a PlayStation underneath the flat screen television, and his walk-in closet with any kind of shoes or clothes someone could think of. Leo never shopped, but his mother made him, so whenever the subject came up, he was forced to go along with her and buy accessories and clothes for himself that at times he didn’t even wear.

His mother was in her 80s, and she was Indonesian, which mixed with the African American blood from his father. His father passed away when he was 17 years old though. Leo’s thoughts returned back to his mother. She was becoming very forgetful in addition to her moderate deafness. At that age, she didn’t understand that she wasn’t as strong as she used to be.

Leo tossed the pillows off his bed as he smoothed the creases out. He didn’t like dirty and disorganized places. After making the bed, he dressed in his work suit and skipped down the snake-like stairs as his husky voice called, “Ma!” His quick steps purposely led him to the red-carpeted den. Then his slim form paused at the doorless entrance. The smile was wiped off his face, his eyes widening at the sight of a woman with a gray bob hair style up on a wiggling four-step, on her tiptoes, dusting the cabinet above the flat screen, her back to him. He strode into the room like a madman and then clenched his hands, remembering he couldn’t yell at her. The doctor had told him that yelling at her would bring her down; she was aging, so it would take her awhile to realize that she couldn’t do what she used to do anymore.

Shinta went down the four-step and put her hand on the TV to catch her breath, having not seen him yet.

“Ma?” he started.

She jumped, twirling to him and placing her hand on her chest. After looking up and seeing it was him, she laughed. “Son, you scared me to death? I thought you already left for work.”

His features softened, wondering if she knew that she was the one scaring him to death; he brushed her gray hair to the side, kissing her wrinkled, pale-skinned forehead. “I’m sorry ma. No, I’m about to leave. What were you doing?”

“I was just doing some light cleaning. Don’t worry; I’m done now.” Shinta unsteadily walked away from him to return the duster in the linen closet outside the den.

Leo rolled his eyes and bit his lip to stay calm.

His mother came back, took a seat on the leather crimson sofa, and lifted her stocking feet to put them on the footstool. “Aren’t you going to be late for work?”

She was behaving like it was okay for her to run about like she was in her 40s. “I don’t want to leave, ma,” he confessed to her.

Shinta was staring at her shaky fingers with red polish, still trying to catch her breath. “I will be fine Leo. You worry too much. You always go to work and come back and find me here. What will change today?”

“Okay…” he turned from her and closed his eyes.

“Son, go before you’re late. You’re the owner of that company, and you need to make an example for all your workers,” his mother said.

Leo turned, took a giant step to her, and sat with one hand supporting his cheek. “You know I can always stay at home just in case you need me. I can manage the company from here.”

Shinta’s tired eyes stared at him as she brought her eyebrows together. “Leo… my Leo…. You’ve responsibilities. Let me not hear you say that again.”

“Fine.” He diverted his attention to the screen and pecked her forehead quickly, knowing he had to leave now before he changed his mind. His mother would be very worried about the company then, and that was the last thing he wanted. “Okay Ma. But don’t forget there’re leftovers in the fridge, so you will have plenty of food to choose from. Food with a red tag isn’t your food; please don’t touch it. Only the foods with yellow tags are the foods you can eat.”

She nodded like she was listening, and this time he hoped she did. “Yeah, yeah. I hear you,” she replied.

After work, Leo walked out of the sliding double doors of the opaque-windowed, ten-story building with his shades protecting his eyes from the bright sky and the sun setting on the horizon. He got to his BMW, parked in the closest space, meant for the CEO of the oil company. The other parking spots, for his workers and visitors, were a mile from where he was, over the grass sidewalks on the sides of the building. Leo guessed that his workers envied him on snowy days. He shook his head, looking back at the huge building his father left to him and his mother.

His family had moved here from Indonesia when he was 17 years old. His father died in a car accident on his way to a conference meeting that same year. Years ago, Leo used to blame his mother for his father’s death. Leo shook his head again, not feeling like dwelling on those thoughts. They brought only painful memories and regret. His mother was the only one that he now had as family. He placed his suitcase on the passenger seat and took his phone out of his trouser pocket. Stepping into his car, he called his house again. He had called home twice already.

A crooked voice answered, exhaling heavily, “Hello?”

He wondered what she was up to instantly. “Ma, what are you doing?”

“Hello?”

He remembered that on the phone she had a really hard time understanding him. He raised his voice even more. “Ma, is everything okay? What are you doing?”

“Oh, Leo, hi son. I was doing chores around the house,” she explained to him.

Leo scratched his ear and threw his head back on the seat-head. “Ma, what chores? We talked about this before: the doctor specifically told you that you can’t do what you used to be able to do.” He had to use the doctor so she would listen, at least until he got back home. He should have done that earlier before leaving her alone for work.

“Leo, I only did what I could. I’m well enough to do what I have to do to keep my son’s house clean,” she reminded him.

Leo’s pressed his palm between his eyes. “Ma, do this for me: I want you on the sofa I left you in and to elevate your legs, okay? Only get up if you want to go to the bathroom or to get something to eat and drink.”

“But the bathroom—”

“Ma, do this for me!” Good thing he’d called again, he thought, but this woman sure could drive him nuts.

His mother sputtered and then said, “Fine.” She hung up, not too happy, but he knew that she was a stubborn woman.

When Leo got home, his nose picked up on the smell of fried fish. He rushed to the white-tiled kitchen, but it was empty and pristine clean, as though she hadn’t been there. The v-shaped counter and oven in the center of the room were all wiped off, and there were no dishes in the sink.

He found her in the den as he wondered what else she had been up to that day. “Ma, what did you do?”

She waved him off like it was nothing as he helped her stand up from the chair she was struggling to get out of. “That food is for you my darling. I ate my lunch and dinner already.”

She pushed past him, going to the kitchen as he closely followed. She stood on the step stool trying to reach for the microwave just above the hanging cabinets over the counter. Leo didn’t try to carry her off the stool, for he knew better. However, he helped her get the food out and placed it on the counter, looking down at the tiles on the floor that had silverware designs on them, sighing.

“That fried food is not good for your heart,” he rumbled and took her hand as she got off the stool. “I don’t know what I would do if anything happened to you. Why won’t you listen?”

She sighed this time, huffing. “I ate broccoli and grilled beef and boiled rice. I just made plantain and fish for you. I can take care of myself and you.” She pulled away from him, facing him with her rosy cheeks.

“I know you used to, but now it is kind of my turn to take care of you. But my point was, you still shouldn’t have cooked by yourself. You need to listen to me. I don’t want you to fall when you are in here by yourself working too hard.” Leo crossed his arms over his chest.

She remained quiet.

He gave her a lingering hug, asking, “What am I going to do with you?”

Leo directed her to a stool by the counter, reached for a small cylindrical glass she liked from one of the cabinets, and poured her a glass of water.

He joined her at the counter and ate what she had made for him. “So what did you watch on TV today?” He assumed she had been watching TV the whole day apart from the other activities. Weeks ago, he had tried to get her back into her crocheting, but she had refused. And she didn’t want to elaborate the why, so he had let it go.

“I was watching this cooking show. I forgot what it was called, but the chefs were timed to cook a dish with specific ingredients. People wasted so much time on unimportant matters instead of concentrating on growing their company.”

Leo wanted to roll his eyes and tell her that not everyone had a company, or an interest in business, but he knew that he would have another lecture of his life. He clearly remembered before and after his dad passed away how his mom sang in his ear that marketing was the best career for him and how his father’s business was his responsibility. Leo shook his head. “So?”

“I turned off the television because it was sad watching people making a fool out of themselves. There was this other show too. A group of people eating roaches just to win money instead of going to work and making money with dignity.”

Leo almost choked on a plantain laughing.

“It’s not funny Leo. And I’m glad that my son isn’t that way.” The conversation ended there. Leo walked her to her room, which was across the living room, and tucked her in; he was surprised that she let him tuck her in. Usually, she stopped him at the doorway like she knew what he was about to do and told him that she was his mother and not his baby. Leo always laughed at her explanation when he was out of her sight.

The following morning, Leo was in the kitchen with his mother preparing ground beef soup by the counter. Leo watched her slice the tomatoes and onions with a skill he knew required years to learn.

“Why didn’t you go to work today again?” she asked.

“Today I’m off mom,” he lied, but if she knew that, she would force him to go, and again she would emphasize how he had to take care of his father’s business. Leo tucked in his shirtsleeves and mashed the ground beef in the silver pan with his fingers from the other side of the counter.

From the corner of his eye, he caught her leaning against the counter, panting. With a leg, he scooted an empty chair to her. When she ignored it, he gave into an eye roll.

Leo went behind his mom and the chair in case she fell. “Ma, please sit down. I will pass you anything you need.”

She laughed. “What? You think your old woman can’t handle herself around the kitchen? I raised you well and I never once dropped. I’m sure I can move around myself without your help.”

Leo sighed out loud. “Ma, you’re tired, please sit down. I sit down when I’m tired; it’s normal. Don’t be ashamed of that.”

“I don’t want to sit. Can you leave me alone with that?” Shinta shouted at him angrily.

Leo crossed his arms. “Is the stool uncomfortable? I will get you another stool or put a cushion on this so you can feel comfortable when you sit down.”

“This has nothing to do with the stool. Now stop manipulating me into doing what you want me to do.” Shinta tried to convince him, but she sat down a few seconds later.

Leo smiled quickly at her action but took off the smile on his face as soon as he was in her sight.

“I hope we didn’t miss any ingredients. It has been a while since I have made this.” Shinta tried to distract him from thinking too much about how right he was about her being tired.

Leo wondered what he was ever going to do with his mother. In a few hours they were done cooking and eating. Then his mother went to her room to take a nap.

While Leo spread out on the long couch in the den, his phone rang. He stared at the vibrating iPhone in his hand, knowing who it was. It was Jung, one of his best friends. He had two best friends, Jung and Derek Ho. They had all been friends since college. He didn’t want to pick up because he wasn’t in the mood to talk. But if he didn’t, Jung would come over uninvited. The latter was worse. “Hello,” he answered.

“Hey buddy, what’s up?” Jung greeted him with abundant energy.

Leo rolled his eyes. Of course, that energy was coming from somewhere. “I’m good. What are you up to?”

“I have this girl I’m seeing, and she has a twin. Now you can imagine what kind of fun I have been having all night and throughout this morning. How is your boring life?” With Jung most conversations were about girls.

Leo scoffed, not retorting. “My boring life is filled with happiness. I made ground beef soup.”

“Really? I’m coming over to get some. I hope you have rice too. And I want that carrot cake your mom made for dessert last time.” Jung sounded like he was pacing around, probably looking for his shoes.

But Leo just wanted some peace and quiet for himself and his mom today. He rubbed his hand through his gelled hair and stopped upon feeling the grease in his hand. “I’m taking my mom for her routine exam, so I don’t know when we will be back.” He wiped his hand on his pants.

“Oh. So you aren’t interested in triplets later on?” Jung asked him, trying to tempt him.

Leo thought to himself. He hadn’t been sexually satisfied lately; six months had passed since he had been laid. It didn’t affect him like before. Maybe his fuel burned out. Was that even normal? Did he care? No.

Jung sighed on the other end. “Listen man, I’m worried about you. It has been months since you held a woman in your arms.”

Leo had forgotten his friend would catch on.

He turned his face towards the muted TV showing the CNN news. “I’m not interested right now.”

“You need some excitement in your life. And work makes Leo a very dull boy,” Jung added with a British accent. His accent came out when he spoke for a long time. Both his parents were Japanese, but he was born and raised in England.

Leo rolled his eyes at what he just said and scoffed. “I don’t care.”

“Fine. Whatever. Stay boring. Damn Leo. Is this still about that woman? Why can’t you move on from her? You don’t even know her name,” Jung said.

Leo’s eyes stung at the reminder of what that woman from his past did to him. “I’m hanging up.”

“Fine, I’m done talking about her,” Jung sang.

Leo hated the fact that his friends had seen him go through the heartbreak and pain, but he pretended like it never happened. At night when no one was around, he couldn’t pretend because she haunted him even in his dreams.

When Jung coughed, Leo snapped out of his thoughts—a vision of that intense kiss from his dream.

“I’m coming for my ground beef and rice tomorrow though. It’s been a while since I have had some home-made food.”

“You were here earlier this week, and I remember you had rice and chicken stew…by the way, uninvited,” Leo shook his head, shifting around his seat.

“Your mom indirectly invited me,” Jung explained.

“I’m not even going to comment on that.”



Clarksburg, MD



Lillian stood on the two steps in front of her house, her hand blocking the morning sun from her face, looking at her daughter, Natasha. With a bandana around her braids, the short, medium-sized girl hugged her book bag to her chest, running to get on her school bus like the other two kids who lived in the neighborhood. Lillian swished her curvy hip to lean on the doorjamb; she had thick thighs, a slim waist, and a huge chest.

Lillian would never have thought fourteen years ago that her life would turn out this way: a single, African American parent owning a house in a roundabout with women who drove SUVs and were married to men who owned big companies. This hadn’t seemed like a likely dream. Her past relationships with two wealthy men had almost ruined her, and she had felt no man would ever want her again because she had a child.

But one thing she learned from those years was that life moved on no matter what.

The school bus rode past her house. Natasha’s hand stole out the window, waving, and Lillian waved back smiling. When the bus disappeared, someone came running towards her from across the street. She tilted her head when a hard body hugged her and cold lips brushed against her own. Lillian pushed the man away. After her hands wiped her mouth, she noticed it was the ex-military, African American, bald man who lived across from her house, with his sweat pants and vest hugging tightly on his bulged body: Derek Smith.

She glimpsed Derek’s sad brown eyes before he made his hairless face neutral of any emotions, and she felt bad. He was attractive, but he wasn’t her type.

Lillian sighed and picked at her fingernails. “Listen, I’m sorry I was shocked.”

“I came to mow your lawn,” he explained, and stared at the ground, shoving his foot on the cemented trail to her house. “Do you like leading men on Lillian?” he lifted his head up to look in her eyes.

Lillian frowned and crossed her arms over her chest. “I have never told you that I liked you, and I’m sorry if you think I did.”

“Okay, whatever, I still came to mow your lawn.”

Lillian shook her head. “I don’t think that’s a great idea.”

Derek opened his mouth, about to say something.

“Lilly!”

Lillian turned to the female voice. Her blonde, green-eyed, Caucasian friend, Rachel, strode her way with her auburn-haired husband, Adam, at her heels. She was glad to see her best friend this morning as usual. Rachel was her neighbor who lived across from her house, like Derek.

From the corner of her eye, she saw Derek leaving.

“Yesterday, at 7 pm, I washed the dishes we used for dinner. My husband over here snacked at 11 pm again, and I found dishes in the sink and I washed them. And now I wake up this morning and find dishes in the sink again, and I tell him about it and he tells me that it isn’t a big deal. That isn’t fair. Can you tell him that?” Rachel huffed as her husband, with an obvious beer belly, rolled his gold eyes to the back of his wife. Rachel was a slim woman compared to Derek; two Rachels were probably the size of Adam, but they were the same height. They suited each other also, even with their attitudes. Rachel was loud, and Adam was the quiet one.

Lillian was used to the two fighting and Rachel involving her in a fight that she had no interest in. Two years ago, Lillian had won a lottery of one million dollars and decided to buy a house to give her a daughter a better chance in life than living in a trailer. She moved into Orchard Park, and Rachel was the first resident to greet her. Rachel had seemed like the street’s gossiper because she knew all her neighbors’ businesses. At that time, Lillian hadn’t wanted her as a friend because she didn’t want anyone knowing her personal business. As Lillian began to get to know Rachel though, she realized Rachel wasn’t that bad. It just happened that part of her character was that she talked too much—or rather shared too much.

Rachel’s hair edges almost hitting Lillian in the eye made her focus on the bickering couple. Lillian could imagine her green eyes drilling holes in her husband as she snapped, “This is not a trivial matter, Adam! You do this to me all the time. I’m not a slave around the house. You need to wash your own dishes after using them. It is just your dishes, and nobody else’s.”

Lillian escaped the couple at her doorstep, closing the door behind her. It was rude, but some things should remain private, and Rachel had to learn that.

Lillian leaned against the door, feeling glad that she wasn’t married for some reason. Back in her college years, she had wanted to get married so bad because all her friends were getting married around her, until her fiancé turned out to be a douchebag, cheating and mentally abusing her. His name was Ezekiel, but then she met another wealthy man at a Starbucks. Actually, she had met the second man at a club, then at Starbucks in Rockville. He had seemed like a good idea at the moment, but he hadn’t wanted her to know his name or to know her name. She realized too late that he was the biggest mistake ever after she got pregnant. Then she ran back to Ezekiel after he promised to change, but he found out that she was pregnant and kicked her out. At 23 years old, she was homeless and pregnant. She didn’t even know where her parents were because she had moved out at age 18 to live with Ezekiel after he had promised her a good life. Her parents, not very fond of Ezekiel, disowned her when she made the decision to move in with him. Luckily the government help was available for her at that time.

Lillian’s phone rang, bringing her back to the real world. She wiped her cheeks, feeling a wetness there, and she laughed when she heard the muffled sounds of the couple right outside her door. “Yeah hello…” Lillian answered her cell. On the couch in the small living room, without checking the caller ID, she hoped that it was a job calling her. She had to get a job before her lottery money finished. She had a child to take care of. “Hey Lillian, how are you?”

Andrew Lansky calling her was a good sign. They had been friends since high school. And ever since she had found out that he wanted to be a doctor in the future, she had called him doc. “Hi Doc, I’m good. How are you doing?”

“I’m fine. I’m at work loaded with pending orders waiting for me to sign them off. How is your nurse job search going?” he sounded like he had disappointing news. Technically, he was helping her find a job. He was a family doctor of some rich family, so that meant he had connections with people that paid nurses well.

Lillian frowned, thinking that it was hard to find a job. Shouldn’t it be easy now that she was a nurse? She had gone to school for six years to get her bachelor’s in nursing, It hadn’t been easy, but those extra school loans had helped her to pay her bills. She shook her head and answered her friend on the phone. “I’m still looking. Have you found me something?”

“No…” was his only reply, and he was quiet.

Lillian let out a frustrated sigh. “It’s okay. I will just keep applying.”

“Okay, don’t give up. You know something, my client might need someone. Have you heard of Leo Christopher? ” Andrew asked her.

“No,” she replied.

He let out a crispy laugh, “I forgot you don’t watch the news. Lillian, I wonder how you know what goes on around this world.”

“I know, I will start. But let me know if something comes up with your employer Christopher.” Lillian dropped hard onto the couch and held her phone between her cheek and shoulder. Then she combed her hand through her wavy black hair, throwing her head back to tie it in a bun. She had to find a job somewhere else in case this Christopher didn’t have an opening for her, she thought.

Andrew asked, “Have you applied to the nursing homes I told you about?”

“Yes, I did...” Lillian lied to him. She had only applied at the hospitals and agencies because from what she heard nursing homes injured many nurses’ backs. However, telling him the truth would upset him, and he would start complaining for her to not rely on him so much. She wasn’t, but he would think that way. Lillian sighed loudly, returning her mind back to their conversation. “I’m going to apply today again.”

“Good. How is Tasha doing?” he was chewing in the background.

Lillian stared at her living room with only three sofas surrounding the gray box TV. Then out of nowhere, she wondered: if she had a choice to see Ezekiel or the other strange man, who would she choose? She would choose Ezekiel because he didn’t hurt her that much. He never led her on. He liked her from the beginning and then told her straight forward that he didn’t feel the same way he had felt about her and kicked her out. The other man was never straightforward; he made her second guess herself. He had hurt more and he was probably the father of Natasha; there was no way she was letting the two meet. She didn’t know how he would react. He was so unpredictable. And her daughter would feel the most betrayed anyway. At the thought of her daughter, her attention returned to Andrew’s question. “Natasha is good,” she replied.