Page 9 of Summer in London

chapter

five

Naasson’s jaw muscle flexed as he stroked the canvas with his paint brush.

He was focused. Extremely focused. It was the first time in over a week that he sat down to paint, and he hadn’t realized how much he’d missed it.

With all that had been going on, his mind had been too clouded to create, but he was back in his element.

He was painting a man. The man’s face wasn’t visible.

He was sitting in front of a large lake, and one could tell by the way his shoulders drooped and the way his head hung low that he had the weight of the world on his shoulders.

Naasson knew that man’s pain all too well and maybe that’s why he’d been in such a zone for the past thirty minutes as he created the work of art.

The alarm on his phone sounded, and Nassson knew it was time to get ready to meet A’ja.

When he woke up that morning, he texted her and told her he hoped she had a good practice.

She texted him back on a break and said thank you, and she wished him a good day.

That led to a conversation about what she was doing after practice and now, they were about to link up to grab some food.

Naasson was looking forward to seeing her.

A’ja was pretty, and she was down to earth, but that wasn’t the reason he was looking forward to seeing her.

She was something to do in London besides sit on the movie set and watch Deen at work.

Naasson roamed around London a lot sight seeing and acting like a regular tourist, but that shit got old fast. He was never the type that had to always be around others but back in Diamond Cove, he saw Josias damn near every day.

He saw Disha every day, and he saw his sister and his mother several times a week.

Life moved fast often making him feel there weren’t enough hours in the day. In London, all he had was time.

Back home, Naasson knew plenty of people, and he came from a pretty large family.

Being in London with no one but Deen was starting to get the best of him.

Naasson wasn’t sure he really had it in him to stay in London forever.

Or anywhere that he didn’t know anyone for that matter.

He also knew what it was time to do. Each time the thought crossed his mind, he shrugged it off, but Naasson was tired of putting it off.

He grabbed his phone and called his mother as he walked around the hotel room grabbing his wallet, room key, etc.

“Hello?” his mother answered the phone in a confused tone.

“Hey ma.”

Silence. Then, “Oh my God, baby where are you?”

“Laying low. What’s going on around there?” He almost didn’t want to know the answer.

“Brandon is still in the hospital, but he’s not dead.

He’s in pretty bad shape though. His mother took the kids up there to see him once, but Kamryn doesn’t want them to go back and see him like that.

He has tubes all down his throat. He can’t really talk, so the police can’t question him just yet.

At the house that day, his cousin pulled up just as the ambulance was arriving, and he began yelling to anyone that would listen that it was you.

I wish I had never sent you over there that day.

This is all my fault,” Naasson’s mother started to sob.

He blew out a small breath. That was one of the very reasons that he hadn’t called.

“Ma, it’s all good. You didn’t make me do anything.

” Naasson did feel a slight sense of relief that Brandon wasn’t dead, but how much better was an attempted murder charge versus a murder charge?

He could still get a lot of time if he went back home and got caught.

“How is Kamryn doing?”

“She’s fine. Stressed. She’s moving out of the house, and she’s going to move back in with me for a little while to get on her feet.

It’s sad it had to go this way, but now that she doesn’t have to worry about Brandon bothering her for a while, she just wants to work and move the kids to a better place to live. ”

His mother’s words offered him even more relief.

Naasson couldn’t know for sure if Kamryn would ever go back to Brandon, but at least she wasn’t by his bed side nursing him back to health.

Naasson generally didn’t care what anyone did but after all the trouble his run in with Brandon had caused, he would definitely feel some kind of way if she got back with him.

“I can’t stay on the phone long. I just wanted to know how everyone was doing.”

His mother sighed. She wanted to say so much, but what could she say? Encourage him to come home and turn himself in? Not seeing him or knowing where he was, was hard, but she didn’t want to see him behind bars either.

“I’m glad to know that you’re okay. Please keep in touch.”

“I will. I love you.”

Naasson ended the call with a heavy heart.

Every day, he had an internal battle with himself.

He almost felt like a pussy for running from a charge, but he didn’t want to spend the next few years in prison and if that made him a pussy, then so be it.

With so much on his mind, Naasson decided to walk to the restaurant that he was meeting A’ja at.

The weather was comfortably warm, and he knew he wouldn’t break a sweat.

As Naasson thought about how his life had changed in the blink of an eye, his preoccupied mind made the fifteen-minute walk seem extremely short.

As Naasson approached the restaurant, a taxi pulled up, and A’ja got out of it.

Naasson took her in. Dressed in black leggings and a black, sleeveless, bodysuit, her body screamed grown ass woman. The braids she was rocking made her look youthful and stylish yet mature and fly.

“I see I have perfect timing,” he approached her with a smile.

“That you do,” she smiled back.

Naasson held the door open for A’ja, and his eyes zeroed in on her behind as she walked through the door.

He knew he had to handle her with kid gloves.

She said herself that she was in the middle of a divorce and still going through the grieving process.

Even if she wasn’t looking for anything serious, Naasson could tell there were times when she was vulnerable.

He didn’t want to confuse her, mislead her, or play games with her.

His own future was uncertain, so there was no way he could begin to think about where he wanted things with A’ja to go past a good time.

The hostess led them to their seats, and the pair began to look over the menu. After a few moments of silence, A’ja spoke. “So do you mostly spend your days on the set?”

“It just depends on if I feel like going. I’m a silent investor.

I don’t have specific jobs I do on the set.

I just sit back and watch when I’m there.

It’s an interesting process, but I don’t feel the need to be involved every day.

I spend a lot of time just being a tourist. I got some painting done today though. ”

Naasson didn’t miss the flicker of interest in A’ja’s eyes. “What kind of painting do you do?”

“I paint pictures of anything and everything. Whatever comes to mind.”

Naasson removed his phone from his pocket, unlocked it, and went to his page that was dedicated to his paintings on social media. He passed A’ja the phone, and his heart swelled with pride when her jaw slacked.

“You did these?” she swiped through his photos.

“Yeah, I did.”

“Do you have a website? Where can I buy one?”

Naasson’s brows snapped together. “Website? Nah. I don’t sell them. I just paint as a stress reliever.”

“Are you against selling your art for money? I know there are some creatives that feel they can’t put a price tag on their hard work.”

“It’s not that. I just didn’t think anyone would be interested in buying one. No use in creating a website not to get any sales.”

A’ja’s mouth hung open. “Are you serious right now?” She looked at the phone again. “I’d gladly pay a few hundred dollars for most of these, and I say that because I’m cheap. Do you know there are people out here that will pay thousands of dollars for art?”

“Yeah of course I know that. They pay that kind of money for paintings from other people. Not me. I’m a nobody. I post my pictures for sale with a $5,000 price tag, and people will think I’m on drugs.”

A’ja shook her head. “I know you aren’t sitting here doubting yourself like that. That’s really a shame. You don’t have to be known. Your talent speaks for itself. What about this one? Where is it?”

She showed Naasson the photo that she was inquiring about.

It was a picture of a black man laid back in bed with smoke wafting out of his mouth.

A black woman lay on his chest with her eyes closed.

The picture spoke volumes. A’ja knew that the woman was the man’s peace, and he was her calm.

How she longed for that kind of connection again.

“It’ back at my home in Diamond Cove.”

“When I get back to the states, I want it. You can ship it to me. I’ll pay whatever price you ask.”

Naasson chuckled. “I can’t do that. If you want the painting, you can have i―”

“You are about to piss me off,” A’ja cut him off. “I said I will pay for it. If you don’t give me a price, I’ll throw one out there. How about $400? And I feel like that offer should insult you.”

Naasson was floored that she would really be willing to pay that much for something he created when he already told her she could have it for free.

Naasson had no way of knowing when his money would run out or how long he’d be in London.

What he did know was that for however long he was on the run, he wasn’t in the position to turn down any money.

“You got it,” he finally agreed.

The waitress came over and took their orders. “I still think it’s dope that you play in the WNBA.”