Runaway Comeback

By Sandra Ottey

After years of physical and mental exploitation and voyaging over intercontinental waters way too many times, Rose Thorn finally flees her native Jamaica for good to hide out in Brooklyn with her daughter. Rose believes she was dealt an evil hand in marriage because she was a high school dropout, teenage bride and mother. In her quest to realize her dream of pursuing a college degree, she is reunited with her soul mate, Calvin Jones. Rose is ready to divorce her husband, Donovan, but is she really ready to marry Calvin?

Forced to return to Jamaica, Rose finds herself trapped in a devastating situation that could jeopardize a lifetime of happiness with Calvin. Rose quickly realizes that in order to make a comeback she must turn around and go back to the place where it all started, the place where she first believed, the place where trouble had come and uprooted her.

Runaway Comeback sizzles with secrets, payback, and redemption. Set against a backdrop of rolling hills in Jamaica and the streets of Brooklyn, the storyline is thought-provoking and thoroughly enthralling with true-to-life characters and situations.

In this quick-paced sequel of suspense and mistrust, Sandra Ottey paints a spellbinding story in her tell-it-like-it-is writing style.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Sandra Ottey
• Release date: Sep 18, 2012
• ISBN: 9780985826024

Sandra Ottey

Sandra A. Ottey is the author of Jamerican Connection and the sequel, Runaway Comeback, A Novel. She earned a bachelor’s degree from Medgar Evers College of the City University of New York and a master’s degree from Polytechnic University. Sandra lives in New York and is working on her third novel. You may write to her at [e-mail].

Book preview

Dressed for the Part

Rose Thorn tapped her heel impatiently on the aircraft’s carpeting. Was this plane ever going to land? She shifted in her seat against the confines of her seatbelt as fear slithered down her spine. She swiveled her head for the umpteenth time and let her eyes roam behind her midnight-dark shades as she surveyed the other passengers on board. She still didn’t notice a familiar face and no one seemed to recognize her either. Still, anxiety continued to hold her in its jagged jaws.

Rose tapped her heel some more and nibbled nervously on her bottom lip. She dipped into her handbag and retrieved a small mirror. The curly blond wig under her wide-brimmed Fedora was not her style. Even with the aircraft’s cool temperature her scalp was sweating underneath it, or maybe it was just her nerves, she thought. She pulled the hat halfway down her forehead, just above her professionally pruned eyebrows. She painted on midnight purple lipstick against her caramel-colored skin to add to her getaway disguise. The dark Addams Family–style lip color matched her strapless jumpsuit, but it wasn’t on her list of lipstick shades. She shrugged. Personal fashion was not a priority today. It wasn’t even an option. Today was runaway day, and she was dressed for the part.

In the window seat of the aircraft her daughter, Crystal, tugged at the floppy straw hat Rose had placed on her daughter’s head. Rose had helped her put on a change of clothes she had stashed in their small piece of luggage. On the way to the airport, in the backseat of the getaway car, Crystal had changed out of her school uniform and was now wearing a faded jeans pantsuit, white camisole and black strappy sandals.

She remembered the horrific story she had concocted and told Crystal’s teacher earlier that day just outside the classroom door while Crystal’s friends gazed up from their test papers at her with innocent, inquiring eyes. She had shown up at the school well over an hour before it let out. She had painted on the most distressing facial expression and told Crystal’s math teacher in a tear-jerking voice, There has been an accident and my um…my husband…he’s hurt and… he’s asking for Crystal.

The teacher’s eyes had widened under her thick spectacles and her fingers trembled as she raised her hand to cover her wide-open mouth. Rose’s eyes misted as she inwardly pleaded with God for forgiveness and begged Him to please understand she had no choice but to fabricate a lie. It was totally against her morals, and now she battled with her conscience as it fired hot, pointed missiles at her. Rose had never had a reason to take her daughter out of school before, so she wasn’t sure of the protocol. That was the only way she felt she could convince the teacher to let Crystal out of class. It was her last resort to finally break the albatross her husband, Donovan Thorn, had placed around her neck for too long now. Rose couldn’t afford to miss the flight, so she told the teacher, Please let my daughter leave with me now. I’ll talk to her calmly about what happened to her father.

At her desk, Crystal had stared at her mother with questioning eyes and then at her friends. Crystal laid her pencil on top of the exam papers on her desk. Her teacher took her hand and led her to the classroom door where she handed her over to her mother.

I will keep him in my prayers. You may take your daughter.

A wave of guilt washed over Rose as the children’s faces flashed into her troubled mind. The fib was wicked, she thought, but it was sufficient and plausible. It fit the bill perfectly. Crystal’s father always picked her up from school. Rose couldn’t have told the teacher the real reason why she had come to pick up their daughter that day instead of Crystal’s father. Which teacher in his or her right mind would allow any parent to take a child out of class in the middle of a final math exam just so that they could go catch a flight from Jamaica to New York or anyplace else? Who does that? The lie was necessary.

Mommy, I have a secret, Crystal said from the plane’s window seat.

Rose turned toward her daughter. You do? Another one?

Yes, Mommy.

Rose leaned across the seat and kissed her daughter’s cheek. What’s the secret this time, honey? she whispered.

I think Daddy is going to come to New York and find us again this time, just like he did the last time, Crystal whispered back. Her words and tone resonated childlike innocence and a faint hint of concern.

Rose studied her daughter and wished her face didn’t mirror Donovan’s—a round ivory-beige face topped with curly dark hair. She even had the tiny cleft in her chin. Rose faked a confident smile for her child’s sake. No, baby, we’ll be fine. This time Daddy is okay with us living in New York. He won’t come after us again. You’ll see. She kissed her daughter’s forehead under the floppy hat and prayed she was right.

Warm memories of her boyfriend, Calvin Jones, waltzed into her mind and an easy smile played across her lips. She settled back in her seat. Earlier that day Calvin had taken the first flight out of Jamaica to New York. He had called to say he had arrived home safely to Brooklyn, how badly he missed her already, and that he’d pick them up at the JFK airport in Queens. She could hardly wait to see him again, even though it had been only fourteen hours and seventeen minutes since she was safe in the warmth of his embrace. She looked forward to starting her new life with Calvin, but she made a mental note that there were equally—or maybe even more important goals—she had yet to accomplish. She would stay focused and not make the same mistake twice.

Later, the aircraft thudded onto the landing strip with its hefty bulk. They knew the routine. The plane would taxi down the runway to the arriving passengers’ gate and the purser would announce the flight’s arrival and welcome the passengers back to New York. Clanging sounds of seatbelts would echo throughout the cabin as passengers unfastened them. Feet would shuffle as they rose from their seats and reached for luggage stowed in the overhead compartments. Then they would say good-bye to the pretty flight attendants, exit the plane, and proceed to customs.

At the immigration officer’s desk Rose slipped off her shades just long enough for the bald-headed Caucasian man to match her face to the picture in her passport. Then she slid them back on. Her husband, Donovan, snaked into her mind and her heartbeat raced disturbingly. She knew he was in Jamaica. She and her best friend Laverne Fine had called his job from Crystal’s schoolyard to make sure he was at work and hadn’t gotten wind of their plot. Still, she was nervous. Would Donovan show up out of nowhere, kidnap and hold her and Crystal hostage at one of those hotels along the airport strip and force them to go back home to Jamaica with him? Her heart pounded.

Outside in the passenger waiting area they blended with the crowd. She held on tightly to her daughter while pulling their one piece of luggage. The terminal’s wraparound windows and doors offered an expansive view of the parking lot, taxis, and other activities in the busy passenger pickup area across the street. Rose heaved a fearful sigh as she scanned the crowd for Calvin. She hoped he wasn’t running late. The dark shades served their purpose well, she thought, as she held her head straight and let her eyes dart in any direction behind the lenses.

Calvin and Professor Wendy Arnold entered the terminal through the door on the extreme right, and Rose raised her brow in pleasant surprise. She welcomed the slowdown of her heart rate. Wendy served multi-important roles in Rose’s life—mentor, friend, educator, role model, and aunt-in-law. Rose was expecting only Calvin to come pick them up and take them to Wendy’s condo in downtown Brooklyn where Rose and Crystal would be living with Wendy and her family. But Rose was happy Wendy had taken time from her demanding schedule to accompany Calvin to the airport. The building’s lighting poured over the broad shoulders of Calvin’s off-white shirt that paired so well with his taupe slacks. His wide smile accentuated his sparkling, slanted eyes and twinkling dimples. His skin was silky smooth and dark like molasses. Rose had always admired his exotic mixture of African and Chinese heritage.

Wendy was always dressed professionally. Today she had on a pale-gray pinstriped skirt suit with a white camisole and a clustered pearl necklace. The four-inch heels gave the size-two college professor the height she always wished for. She tucked her micro braids behind her ears and revealed the matching pearl earrings. Wendy and Calvin continued to scan the passengers waiting area. They looked past Rose and Crystal as if they were there to pick up someone else.

Mommy, they don’t know it’s us because we’re dressed funny, Crystal commented. Can I take my hat off?

No, not yet, sweetheart. Let’s wait until we get in the car.

But I don’t like hats, she protested.

I know, sweetheart. I don’t either, but just a few minutes more, please.

She pouted and held her head down.

Rose felt bad for putting her seven-year-old daughter through this fugitive mess, but Donovan gave her no choice, she thought.

Calvin and Wendy passed by the currency exchange booth, and Rose and Crystal headed in their direction. Rose continued to hold on tightly to her daughter’s hand. As theyapproached Calvin and Wendy, Rose said, Come on, let’s go. Later for the hugs.

Out of the corner of her eye she saw them gawk at her. Rose knew her way around the area outside the terminal. The automatic door opened, and she hurried across the street toward the parking lot with her suitcase and Crystal in tow. Calvin and Wendy quickened their pace behind them.

Hey, hold up, Rosie, Wendy said, trying to catch up.

Yeah, what’s the rush, baby? Calvin asked. His long legs caught up with her, and he took her luggage.

Hi, Crissy, he said to Crystal.

Hi, Calvin, Crystal responded, holding on to her hat.

In the parking lot, Rose quickly recognized Wendy’s car. Wendy had picked her up from the airport on all her previous getaway attempts.

Wendy remote-opened her car doors and trunk.

Rose gave her aunt-in-law a quick hug. I wasn’t expecting to see you, Wendy. I thought you had a class tonight.

Welcome back to New York, Rosie, Wendy said. I’m so accustomed to picking you up at the airport that I gave the class a take-home exam and decided to come along with Calvin to come and get you.

Thanks, Wendy. Where’s Uncle Miles?

He’s on the day shift this week, so he’s home with the baby.

Oh, okay. I can hardly wait to meet my godson.

Crystal took off her hat and flung it in the car trunk. She was still wearing the brown ribbons that were a part of her school uniform in her hair under the hat. Rose shook her head. I let her change out of everything—uniform, necktie, shoes…

But you forgot the ribbons, Wendy said, completing the statement. She lowered her tone. If we-know-who was hunting you down that would have been a sure giveaway.

Well, thank God for the hat, Rose said.

Calvin opened the back door, and Crystal hopped in. She snuggled up beside the baby’s blue car seat. Yeah! We’re finally going to meet Baby Miles.

Wendy chuckled. We just call him Junior.

Crystal giggled. Okay, Junior.

Calvin smiled and shut the car door.

Wendy turned on the car radio to keep Crystal company, and the adults walked toward the back of the car. Rose, take off that wig, Wendy said. He’s not here. Didn’t you leave him in Jamaica?

Calvin chuckled. He put the carry-on luggage in the trunk. And that lipstick color, baby? It matches your jumpsuit, but that’s so not you. What happened to the reds, pinks, and oranges? I didn’t even recognize you, for real. He gave her a quick kiss on her cheek. I love you anyway.

I love you, too, Cal.

Wendy pursed her lips. Mushy, mushy, mushy. And those dark shades too. It’s nine o’clock at night.

Rose sighed. Oh my goodness, this is so stressful. I’m only twenty-five years old, for God’s sake. But I feel like I’ve been around much longer. Too much stress. This can’t be healthy. I feel like I’m walking on needles. I swear I never want to go through this again.

You won’t, Calvin promised. He hugged her briefly and then let her go. They always curtailed their acts of affection in Crystal’s presence.

Rose took off the disguise and dumped them in the trunk next to Crystal’s floppy straw hat. She finger-combed and shook her hair. It fell into the sassy shoulder-length hair style her best friend Laverne had cut and styled for her earlier that day.

Wendy shut the car trunk. Her cell phone rang. She took it out of her jacket pocket and checked the number. She held it in Rose’s direction. Rose recognized Donovan’s home phone number in Jamaica. Even across the miles, the familiar pangs of fear fluttered in her stomach and immersed her completely. She inhaled sharply and grabbed her chest. She yanked the car door open and hopped onto the backseat with a sudden urgency. She slammed the door shut. Let’s go, Wendy! Hurry!

Chapter 2

Mind Your Own Relationship

Rose, Calvin, Wendy, and her husband, Miles, pulled up high stools and gathered around the island in the sleek white kitchen of Wendy’s downtown Brooklyn condo. Colorful pots of cilantro, thyme, and parsley bloomed in Wendy’s windowsill herbal garden. Rose was glad her plot to snatch her daughter out of school was carried out without a hitch and that Donovan had not gotten wind of her plans.

So how did things turn out today? Wendy said to Rose. Where did you pick up Crystal, at the house or at school?

On the way from the airport Wendy, Rose, and Calvin had refrained from discussing the subject because Crystal was also in the car with them and would hear the conversation. They chose instead to talk about the bumper-to-bumper traffic, the surprisingly balmy June weather, and the fact that Miles Junior, Wendy’s son, was pushing out two more teeth to add to the six he already had. Now that Crystal was upstairs bonding with Junior and out of earshot, they were free to talk..

I picked her up at school, Rose told them.

At school? Wendy questioned, angling her chin in Rose’s direction.

I picked her up way before school let out. Feeling guilty for disturbing Crystal’s exam, she shook her head. If Donovan could only see me now, he’d shred me to pieces.

Hmmm. You are a lot braver than I thought, Rosie, her uncle commented. I mean, to just show up at the school, take Crystal out of class, and take her to New York without her father knowing? He dropped her off at school this morning and when he went back to pick her up she’s not there? Yes, if he sees you now he’d shred you to pieces, for sure. I don’t know him well, but as far as I heard, the man is vicious.

Episodes of her abusive marriage and her many efforts to escape its sting threatened to seep into her brain. She stiffened and massaged her temples with her fingertips to keep the memories at bay. Yeah, I know, she said.

Wendy cleared her throat.

Rose sighed. "Vicious is not the word. If I tell you—"

Wendy kicked Rose on her leg under the table and Rose knew what that meant. When Rose had finally left Donovan for good and started dating Calvin, Wendy had warned Rose over the phone, Never spill your guts to a man and divulge everything about your past relationships because I can bet you he’ll never tell you everything about his. In fact, some men wait for the opportune moment to throw the downfalls of their women’s past right in their faces. Calvin is a great guy, but don’t tell him everything bad that Donovan has ever done to you. You’ve been through hell. Your relationship with Donovan wasn’t just bad. It was ugly.

Rose’s thoughts flashed back to the spews of Donovan’s varied concoctions of brutality and betrayal that had sent her flying back and forth over international waters from Jamaica to New York too many times with her daughter in tow. A few other times she had moved out of the matrimonial home, but had stayed with her best friend, Laverne in Mandeville in Jamaica. But whether local or international, this was the last run, she thought.

Her cup had overflowed with Donovan’s bitter brew a long time ago. Rose cringed as several revolting events that had propelled her to run away continued to attack her brain. She fanned her face with her hand to disperse the memories that had taken up residence in her head for too long and refused to move out; but one indelible episode of Donovan’s cruelty boldly presented itself, upfront and center.

It happened at her desk one day in Jamaica while she was at work. She had leaned sideways to retrieve her makeup pouch from her handbag in her desk drawer when a violent hand gripped her wrist. At first she thought it was a robbery. It was almost closing time and the salesmen would soon return to the small office with the receipts from the day’s sales. Rose started to scream until she snapped her head around to look up into the rage in Donovan’s gray eyes. Fear of the worse kind instantly roamed around in her belly. Her wristwatch beneath Donovan’s vice grip hand was cutting into her skin.

Donovan, you’re hurting me, she cried.

He eased the pressure just enough to allow her blood to resume its flow. His voice was warm against her ear as he roared, Pack your things and come home with me—now!

Donovan never wanted her to work, and she had always felt he wanted to keep her subservient so he could continue to crush her dream of becoming independent; but she was always determined to pick up the pieces from where she had left off when she dropped out of high school and became a pregnant mother and wife. She never gave up on her dream of getting a college degree and becoming self-sufficient despite the many hurdles Donovan had planted in her path. Against his wishes, Rose had accepted a job as an entry-level typist at a paper manufacturing company in their town.

The clock on the wall above the filing cabinet had read 4:45 p.m. She looked down at the hand that still circled her wrist and then locked her eyes with Donovan’s. I’m still on my job. I leave at five to go home, but not with you.

He had smirked. Sucked his teeth. You and your no-brainer job.

Four days prior she had moved out of the house with Crystal and they were staying at Laverne’s house. During that time, Rose had lost count of the amount of times Donovan had called and ordered her home with Crystal, but she adamantly refused. While she lived at Laverne’s house, Rose had dropped Crystal at school in the mornings and Laverne picked her up in the evenings. Two hours before Donovan showed up at her office Laverne had called to tell Rose that Crystal’s teacher told Laverne Donovan had already gotten her. Rose knew from experience that she would be next. All day she felt as if he was watching her, lurking in the shadows, waiting to attack. Donovan was unbending. He wanted her home and there was no other way around it. He must have his way. She just wasn’t sure what strategy he would use this time. His grip on her tightened some more. Let’s go, Rose!

He called her Rose so she knew he was really mad. He always called her Rosie, except when he was upset at her. If she resisted further, Donovan could go postal in her office, she thought. Still, she remained adamant with her decision. For the past couple months Donovan had been spending every other weekend away from home, which was why she had moved out. I’m still on the job, she had told him. I have to record the salespeople’s orders when they return to the office.

He grabbed her by her hair, yanked her from her chair, and she screamed in pain. She knew her manager must have heard her scream, but he had totally ignored her. She wasn’t surprised. Ever since she had accepted the position less than a month ago she had been refusing his sexual advances, the latest being less than fifteen minutes before Donovan showed up at the office. For the last time, I said to pack up your things and come home right now! Donovan had commanded.

Donovan, please. Don’t. Let me go and just leave, please, she had begged through tears.

I’ll leave—but not without you. He reached across her keyboard into her desk drawer and grabbed her handbag. He let go of her hair and gripped her upper arm instead as he led her out the door. It was a small company. She was new on the job and only knew a few people.

She had held her head down and averted her stare from two of the salesman as they pulled into the parking lot. Donovan led her to the car he had hired. The man in the driver’s seat stared straight ahead.

Donovan had opened the car door with his free hand. Get in!

No!

She kicked and beat at his chest in protest as he lifted her and dumped her on the backseat behind the driver. He hopped in beside her and slammed the door shut. The driver gunned the engine and they sped off. Donovan slapped and thumped her nonstop like a lunatic, unleashing every ounce of stored-up anger on her, not caring how hard he punched her or where his punches landed.

Donovan, please stop. Stop it, pleeease, she had pleaded, but he ignored her totally. She didn’t want him to hit her in her face so she kept her face in her lap so most of the hammering ended up on her back and her arm.

What the hell is wrong with you? he had demanded. How many times have I told you to come home? And talking about divorce and separation and counseling and all that shit!! What the hell is wrong with you, Rose? Why won’t you do what I tell you to do?

The car had plunged into a deep pothole. She raised her face from her lap and one of Donovan’s punches landed in her left eye. For a split second tiny white lights flashed before her, then darkness. When she had snapped out of her blackout she realized she had been hit in the eye. Donovan, my eye…my eye…You hurt my eye. Stop! Please! But as the car dipped in and out of more potholes and screeched around sharp corners, Donovan had continued his rage.

Donovan! Stop! I can’t see!

The driver had steered the vehicle and increased his speed, totally ignoring the violence in the backseat. Rose lifted her head briefly and touched the man in his back. Help me, please, she pleaded. But he just drove like a man with road rage, increasing his speed even more over rolling hills. Rose guessed that Donovan must have forewarned the driver not to interfere. No human being could be that insensitive, she thought.

Donovan had lifted her face from her lap and assessed the damage. Her left eye was swollen shut. See what you did! he spat out, blaming her for her own injury. He lifted his head toward the car roof and seethed through clenched teeth. It’s your fault! Why didn’t you just come home as I told you to?

The vehicle had stopped. Rose covered her left eye from the sun’s glare and peered through her right one. They were at Laverne’s apartment. Rose tried opening her wounded eye, but it hurt really bad. She let her head fall to her lap as she wept some more at her predicament.

Donovan fished out her keys from her handbag. Wait for us, he ordered the driver.

The man had barely nodded and continued to avoid both Donovan’s and Rose’s eyes.

Inside Laverne’s spare room he ordered, Pack and let’s go!

She followed his orders because she didn’t want any more punches.

His gaze followed her every move as she repacked the two suitcases she and Crystal had used when they fled the house. On the way out the door he stopped in Laverne’s kitchen and dialed a number on Laverne’s