When Baldwin Loved Brenden

by Electa Rome Parks

Genres: African American; African American Urban

Synopsis

A whole decade has passed since Baldwin, Brenden, Bria, and Christopher last saw each other. In college, they were a close-knit circle of friends who called themselves the Group—until an unfortunate set of circumstances placed their friendship in jeopardy. They went their separate ways after graduation, never looking back, and never expecting to see each other again.

Now they are reunited in a small North Carolina town to attend the funeral of one of their own. Rihanna was always the peacemaker of the group, so it’s almost fitting that it’s at her funeral that the Group will have to confront their past issues. Baldwin, the romantic, Brenden, the do-gooder, Bria, the wild child, and Christopher, the pretty boy, are all about to learn some truths about each other and about themselves over a few unforgettable and life-changing days. Secrets will be revealed, past hurts exposed, tears shed, and laughter shared, all in the name of friendship and love.

Electa Rome Parks, bestselling author of Diary of a Stalker, asks the question, “Can anything truly tear apart real friendship and love?”

Release date: January 29, 2013

Publisher: Urban Renaissance

Print pages: 272

Sample

Friday evening, as soon as I unlocked the front door, juggling my purse and briefcase on one shoulder, and walked into my ranch-style home after a long day and an even longer week at work, the ringing telephone grated my nerves to no end. I thought I was one of the few people I knew who still had a landline. And I used it. I knew the caller couldn’t be William, my boyfriend of almost two years, since he was out of town on one of his regular monthly business trips, and besides, I had talked to him earlier on my cell during my tedious Atlanta rush-hour drive home.

Whoever was on the other end had no plans of hanging up anytime soon. I reluctantly walked the short distance to the small decorative table to answer the call. All I could think about was immersing myself in a hot, relaxing jasmine bubble bath as I sipped on a glass of wine and melted my stress away, with an entire weekend to look forward to.

“Hello,” I said, trying my best to keep mild annoyance out of the tone of my voice. It had better not be a telemarketer trying to persuade me to purchase a new product or try out some upgraded service or donate to a charity. I was on the Georgia No Call list for a reason.

“May I speak with Baldwin Sparks please?” the caller asked.

“This is she,” I volunteered, still trying to figure out why the voice sounded familiar, yet I couldn’t quite place it.

“Baldwin. It’s me, girl. Bria,” the caller literally had screamed into the phone. “How have you been?”

“Uh, fine,” I murmured, still in shock over hearing a voice from my past. At one point in my life, Bria and I were as close as sisters, maybe even closer. The fantasy world of college ended all too soon, and we were quickly swept up into the reality of life and careers and bills, separated from one another in our quest for greatness. Bria stayed in North Carolina, and I moved back to Georgia.

“Girl, is that all you can say after all these years?” She laughed. It was still that high-pitched, bubbly squeal I remembered so vividly. Bria and I had shared many late-night giggling sessions, some lasting into the early morning hours. We’d be doubled over, laughing so hard our stomachs ached as we clutched them.

“I guess you caught me by surprise, that’s all. I haven’t talked to you and the rest of the group in, like, forever.”

“Tell me about it. That’s a damn shame too,” she stated, with a hint of sadness clinging to her voice. “We all lost contact with one another, slowly but surely. Simply drifted apart. Yet we were close, almost like a small dysfunctional family. If the walls could talk.” She laughed lightly at her own joke.

I remained silent as memories flooded my mind, mostly happy ones. The others I chose to ignore because I couldn’t bear them.

“Listen, hopefully we can reminisce later. Unfortunately, I’m afraid I’m calling with bad news,” Bria sighed. “I hate to be the one to share this.”

“Share what? What is it?” I asked cautiously, bracing myself.

She sighed again, not ready to be the bearer of bad news.

I held my breath, hoped for the best, and braced for the worse.

“Rihanna passed away Wednesday.”

I gasped. “What? No! What happened?” I questioned, finally dropping my soft leather tan briefcase on the floor, releasing my purse near the sofa, and heavily sitting down because my feet could no longer support me.

“Rihanna had terminal breast cancer, had been battling it for two years. I heard she put up one hell of a fight too.”

“I didn’t know,” I said in a near whisper. “I never knew,” I whispered as tears threatened to spill from my eyes.

“None of us did. I spoke with Christopher and Brenden yesterday. I had a harder time finding you during my Internet search, so I couldn’t reach you until today.”

At the mention of Brenden’s name, my mouth went dry like I had stuffed cotton into it and my heartbeat sped up. Suddenly, I felt light-headed, and I thought for a second I was going to pass out. I leaned back against my sofa. I had wrongly assumed that after all these years I had finally gotten him out of my system. For good.

“Are you there?” Bria asked. “Baldwin?”

“Yes. I’m here,” I somehow managed to murmur.

“I spoke with them after Rihanna’s mother called me.”

“Her mom called you? Mrs. Brown?”

“Uh-huh. She confessed Rihanna knew she might not make it and she left us in her will.”

“Us?” I inquired.

“You, me, Christopher, and Brenden.”

Again, I felt the frantic flutters as I gripped the receiver tighter and closed my eyes to stop the stars that danced merrily before them.

“Oh my God!”

“I know, girl. It’s surreal, isn’t it?”

“Yeah, to put it mildly. What else did Mrs. Brown say?” I asked.

“Well, the funeral is Wednesday afternoon. Rihanna’s mom would like for us to attend and stay through Friday for the reading of the last will and testament.”

“Are you serious?” I asked.

“Very. Mrs. Brown has extended Rihanna’s home as a place for us to stay. Said Rihanna would want it that way. Everyone else has agreed to come to pay their last respects. You’re the last to confirm.”

I hesitated for only a brief second, because I clearly recalled numerous times when Rihanna had been there for me in a moment of need. There had been only one time when she wasn’t. I had to say my good-byes.

“Okay,” I said, trying to clear my head and make sense of the emotions I was experiencing.

“Can you get here by Tuesday? I can pick you up at Raleigh-Durham airport.”

“Sure, I guess. That shouldn’t be a problem. Give me your cell number, and I’ll call you back with my flight info and itinerary as soon as I finalize them.”

“Sounds good, Baldwin. I can’t wait to see you. I hate that it’s under these circumstances, but it really has been too long. Believe it or not, regardless of my actions or inactions, I’ve missed you. Missed all you guys. It’s going to be so strange being together as a group again, especially without Rihanna, our very own mother hen, as we used to call her. Remember that?”

I laughed. “Yeah, I do. How could I forget how she was always cooking, fussing over us and worrying like a mother hen keeping her chicks in line?”

I smiled faintly at the recollection. I had other, not so good ones that threatened to burst loose, but I quickly pushed them back into the deep corners of my mind, because I wasn’t ready to recall those. Not yet.

A few minutes later I hung up the phone with a sense of trepidation, sadness, and excitement all rolled into one. What had I gotten myself into? As I reclined on the sofa, I couldn’t seem to get my emotions in check. They were all over the place. One minute I felt like crying over the hand life had dealt Rihanna, and seconds later I giggled out loud at some of the memories I recalled.

I hadn’t set foot in North Carolina in over ten years, nor had I set eyes on him in just as long. When I proudly walked across the stage on graduation day and firmly shook the president’s hand, I was determined to put North Carolina and Brenden behind me. Up until now, I had succeeded, but it looked like that was all about to change.

“Bye, Daddy,” my nine-year-old son yelled, racing into his room to play with the new electronic game I had bought him over the weekend at GameStop.

“Bye, buddy. I’ll call you later this week. I love you. Be good.”

“Love you too, Dad,” he shouted without looking back once. A thick lump formed in my throat. It was always hard dropping him off after spending a fun-filled weekend together.

My soon-to-be ex-wife stood in the living room with her arms crossed above her ample chest, sucking her teeth. My smile immediately vanished. I had learned that Malia tended to suck all the joy out of any room she happened to be in, and the people who were in it with her.

“What now?” I asked. “What’s wrong this time?”

“Brenden, I’ve told you time and again about buying Jordan new toys every weekend you have him. You are going to spoil that boy rotten. Damn.”

“Well, he’s my son, and I like spoiling him.”

“He’s my son too,” she said with a serious scowl.

“Malia, I wasn’t implying that he wasn’t. You see, this is why I can’t communicate with you. You make a big deal out of every damn thing,” I stated, throwing up my hands.

She shrugged and kept her lips pressed tightly together, her usual mode of disgruntlement.

“I won’t be in town for the next few days. So if there is an emergency or you need to get in touch with me regarding Jordan, call me on my cell.”

“Where are you going? On another business trip?”

“No. I received a phone call from an old college friend, and unfortunately, she had bad news to share. Rihanna passed away, and I’m attending her funeral in North Carolina.”

“Rihanna? Rihanna. That name sounds familiar. Oh yeah. Wasn’t she the fat chick you used to hang around with? She was part of your little so-called group.”

“Yeah, she was part of the group, though I wouldn’t describe her in that way.”

“Oh, please! Why not? She was fat, Brenden.”

“There was much more to Rihanna than her weight. If you had gotten to know her, she could have taught you a thing or two about dealing with people, being respectful, and treating them with kindness. You don’t even have respect for the dead.”

“Whatever, Brenden,” Malia said, showing me the palm of her hand as she pushed it toward my face.

“Like I said, you’ll be able to reach me on my cell phone if Jordan needs me,” I said, hastily reaching for the doorknob. I couldn’t wait to get out of there. Lately, Malia and I couldn’t be in a room with one another for more than a few minutes.

“Wait, Brenden.”

I slowly counted to three, stopped, and turned. I waited and simply stared at her.

“Will she be there?”

“Who?”

“You know damn well who I’m talking about. Baldwin.” She spat the name as if it hurt even to speak it.

“I have no idea, Malia.”

“Uh-huh. Don’t forget what you promised me. You said you’d consider giving our marriage another chance, for Jordan’s sake.”

As I swiftly walked to my car, working on my marriage, the one that had essentially been over for years, was the last thing on my mind. All I could think about was a brown-skinned girl with a beautiful smile, one I hadn’t seen since she broke my heart into a million pieces years earlier. Her name was Baldwin.

“Baby, are you going to miss me while I’m gone?” I asked. We had just finished making love, and now we were basking in the afterglow. I was mellow and content.

“I might,” Tamara teased. “The question is, are you going to be a good boy while you’re gone?”

“Of course, baby, and I’ll think of your lovely face each and every day.”

“Yeah, right. I love you with all my heart, Christopher. I really do, but I can’t get over how many times you have hurt me in the past by messing with some random woman. I’ve been a fool far too many times, and I can forgive, but I don’t forget.”

“Tamara, I’m going to prove to you that I’ve changed if it kills me. Believe me, baby, when I say you are the only one for me.”

“Why haven’t you ever mentioned your friend before?” she questioned.

I shrugged. “I don’t know. It seems like that time in my life was so long ago. I was a much different person, and at the end, before we went our separate ways, a lot of things happened that scarred our friendship.”

“Why even bother to attend the funeral if you haven’t seen or talked to her in years?”

“It’s hard to explain since you never met Rihanna, but she had a beautiful spirit. Back then, the group had a bond that was everlasting, and I have to attend to show my respects,” I said, pulling her close and kissing her forehead.

“The group?” Tamara asked.

“Yeah, that’s what we called ourselves. Not much creativity there, huh? There were actually five of us who were the best of friends during our college years. Inseparable. All of us totally different in personality. I never quite understood how we gravitated toward one another to begin with, but we did.”

“Interesting. I wish I could go with you for support, sweetie, but you know I have to stay behind to work on that big project at the office. Now would not be the time to leave, because this next promotion is mine. It has my name stamped all over it.” She smiled and my world felt brighter. “How does this sound? Tamara Ross, vice president of marketing.”

“Sounds wonderful, and you’ll get it too. You deserve it.”

“See? That’s why I couldn’t stop loving you even if I tried,” she said, reaching to pull me into a hug and give me a passionate kiss.

“Just promise me you’ll at least consider my marriage proposal.”

“I will, Christopher. I’ve been thinking about it. Just promise me you won’t screw around while you’re in North Carolina with the first attractive female that catches your eye.”

“Baby, I’m going to a funeral.”

“So. Women attend funerals. In fact, are any of these other so-called friends female?”

“Two are, but we didn’t roll like that. It was strictly platonic, and they were like the bratty sisters I never had.”

“If you say so,” Tamara said, turning her back to me and turning off the lamp that sat on the nightstand on her side of the bed. “Get some rest, sweetie. From my experiences, funerals tend to bring out the best and the worst in people.”

As she drifted off to sleep, my mind went back in time to the one woman I could never conquer. She would be at the funeral too.

“Damn, baby! You feel so good.”

I threw in a few more moans and groans for good measure as I absently stared at the off-white ceiling of my master bedroom. I secretly wished he hadn’t spent the night with me. I had too much on my mind.

“You just don’t know what you do to me. Do you? I’ve been thinking about getting some of this all day,” William declared from his position between my spread legs, in between forceful thrusts.

“Come on, sweetie. You’re almost there,” I cooed, trying to finish up our lovemaking session for the night. I had too much on my mind, and I simply wanted it over. “That’s right. Oh, you’re hitting my spot. Yes, right there,” I softly moaned as I squeezed his firm buttocks a few times and pretended to squirm beneath him.

After two years of dating, I knew when William was about to release himself inside me. His body would tense up, his breathing would become raspy, and he’d speed up his rhythm, almost to a frantic pace. Sure enough, five more minutes passed and he was finished. He kissed me lightly on the lips, rolled over onto his stomach, and was out like a light ten minutes later, lightly snoring.

Typically, I’d be upset that he didn’t hold me, spoon with me, and make pillow talk. This time, to be honest, I was grateful for the reprieve, because it gave me a moment to contemplate my trip the next day and to mentally prepare myself.

For most of the night, I tossed and turned, tangled myself in the crisp cotton sheets, as images from my past invaded my slumber and played out as if they had happened yesterday. Finally, at six o’clock I couldn’t take it any longer, so I simply got up. Pulling back the bedcovers, which were half on, half off the bed, I quietly crept into . . .