Til It Hits Home

By Felicia Allen

'Til It Hits Home is a riveting and richly told novel about love, drama, and mystery. The multigenerational story is as complex as the characters themselves with twists and turns that will leave you wanting more.

Rosa Rice is tired of the dating scene. As she celebrates at The Blue Gardenia, finding love is the furthest thought from her mind. Until her friend challenges her to open her heart again. After Rosa takes her friend's advice, Jesse Hunter, a well-established military man, approaches her and asks to take her on a date. When she accepts his offer, she does not expect that Jesse will be the one to steal her heart.

Imagine her surprise when their relationship sends her spiraling once she learns things aren't always as they seem. Rosa's life forever changes, and she is haunted by unanswered questions.

Where will she go from here?

But she isn't the only one seeking to get answers. As events start falling into place, Rosa finds herself holding the missing pieces of the puzzle.

Will Rosa share the missing pieces?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Fifth Season Publishing, LLC
• Release date: Jun 17, 2022
• ISBN: 9798985988703

Felicia Allen

Felicia M. Allen was born and raised in the beautiful southern city of Birmingham, AL. She was introduced to writing in the fourth grade when she was challenged by her teacher to complete a paragraph beginning with the three sentences provided to her. Empowered by the opportunity to express herself through creative writing, the paragraph turned into a short story. While writing, it fascinated her how the use of words can paint a vivid canvas of scenes for everyone to experience from their perspective. Since then, she has been recognized for her storytelling abilities, and poetic talent, and continues to share her gift with others. ​As an author, poet, and mentor, Felicia M. Allen has a passion for motivating others to stay hopeful while overcoming adversity. As a member of her church's ministerial team, she has mentored teens, facilitated and organized juvenile detention ministry, and prison ministry, and championed single parents. She is the mother of two and the grandmother of three. Having raised her children as a single mom straight out of high school, she empathizes with the struggles of teen parents and understands the daily challenges faced while attempting to reach desired goals. She loves inspiring and encouraging others to keep pushing forward when life offers you tremendous obstacles. In her debut novel, ‘Til It Hits Home, she aspires to challenge every reader to embrace events that occur in life. She encourages looking beyond the obvious outcome and diving into undesired conversations to address tainted and unexplored matters of the heart. Felicia M. Allen received her Bachelor of Science degree in Accounting from the University of Alabama at Birmingham.  She currently resides in Douglasville, GA with her husband. ​

Book preview

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Til It Hits Home

Felicia Allen

Published by Fifth Season Publishing, LLC, 2022.

This is a work of fiction. Similarities to real people, places, or events are entirely coincidental.

TIL IT HITS HOME

First edition. June 17, 2022.

Copyright © 2022 Felicia Allen.

ISBN: 979-8985988703

Written by Felicia Allen.

‘TIL IT HITS HOME

Copyright © 2022 by Felicia M. Allen

All rights reserved. Printed in the United States of America. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without the prior written permission of the author. This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, organizations, places, events and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or places or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

Contact info: www.feliciamallen.com

Editor: Shonta Jackson, Cedric Threatt, James Allen

Author Photo: Brittany Wilkerson Mosley and Christopher Mosley

Logo, company nameDescription automatically generated

Fifth Season Publishing, LLC

ISBN: 979-8-9859887-0-3 (eBook)

ISBN: 979-8-9859887-1-0 (paperback)

ISBN: 979-8-9859887-2-7 (hardcover)

If a situation or what someone says hits home or strikes home, people accept that it is real or true, even though it may be painful for them to realize.

Collinsdictionary.com

Table of Contents

Chapter   1: Chest-Deep

Chapter   2: Stones Uncovered

Chapter   3: Strange Waters

Chapter   4: Stealing Time

Chapter   5: Sweet Water

Chapter   6: Fragile Intent

Chapter   7: Onward March

Chapter   8: Calming Grace

Chapter   9: Firm Conviction

Chapter 10: This Is the Day

Chapter 11: Free Will

Chapter 12: Little Banana Oreo

Chapter 13: A Will and A Way

Chapter 14: In Times Like This

Chapter 15: Troubled Waters

Chapter 16: Men of Discretion

Chapter 17: Bait and Hook

Chapter 18: Twisted Blood

Chapter 19: The Gift

Chapter 20: Stolen Secrets

Chapter 21: Common Trait

Chapter 22: Icey Entanglement

Chapter 23: Let Sleeping Dogs Lie

Chapter 24: Hidden Revelation

Acknowledgments

In Loving Memory

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Chapter 1

Chest-Deep

Fine dining was something Rosa had become accustomed to and expected of him whenever they were out on a date. Spoiled by her man or pieces of him she had when they were together. She tugged at the hem of her little black dress while he pulled out her seat at the table. As he was sitting, a waiter wearing a black tuxedo with white gloves and holding a white linen napkin folded across his forearm approached them with a bottle of wine.

Good evening, sir. Could I interest you in a bottle of our finest wine, 1940 Chateau d’Yquem, originating in Sauternes, France?

As usual, Rosa allowed him to take the lead. Although she would not be drinking, she chose not to decline, hoping to use the glass to toast the attractive future awaiting them.

Yes, we would love to partake, Jesse said, prompting the waiter. The waiter withdrew a corkscrew, opened the bottle, and placed the cork on the table before him. There’s much to learn about a bottle of wine—even its cork gives clues about its storage.

She watched Jesse examine the cork. Meanwhile, the waiter filled his glass one-fourth of the way and gave plenty of headspaces for the wine to aerate. Afterward, he placed the glass on the table. Jesse, swirling the glass of wine, took a sniff before he sipped, then gave a nod to the waiter, letting him know it met his approval.

Rosa’s eyes lit up as she gazed at Jesse, catching chills down her spine while reminiscing about the night when they first met. Four years ago, in the summer of 1965, at the Blue Gardenia nightclub in the Magic City. When he approached her sitting at the bar with her best friend, Deborah, he offered to buy her drinks. At first glance, she’d rated him an eight out of ten based on his looks. He wore a military haircut with the back and sides shaved low to the skin, and the top faded into longer hairs. She scanned her way down his body. Then she inspected his torso, catching sight of his toned arms as she witnessed his muscles trying to escape through the sleeves of his shirt. Shoes shined spotless—a size eleven, based on her observation, classic brown and a perfect specimen of handmade brogues. Chiseled cheekbones and dimples highlight his face and the honey-like hazel color of his eyes. Hmm, she said, then deduced he did not differ from any other self-involved prospects who had introduced themselves that night.

Afterward, she listened to him talk for an hour. He went on and on about the boat he owns; the investment homes he purchased and resold for a profit and the three-story house where he lived. Then he shared his travels to Finland, Denmark, Sweden, Norway, Hong Kong and Australia. She was dizzy, trying to keep up with each location. Although Rosa rated his features an eight, she rated his conversation six. While contemplating writing him off as unsuited, she heard him speak about his career. A First Sergeant in the US Army and his goal of becoming a Three Star Army Lieutenant General. Then, rating his accomplishments as impressive, she reconsidered.

What’s on your mind, baby? Jesse asked, staring into her eyes.

She knew he was thinking he’d read her mind, and their plans were the same. His page of the plan read: I expect to have her, and she will always be mine. Disengaged, Rosa searched the crevices of her mind, trying to find the right words.

Not sharing you with anyone else. She said.

Jesse took her by the hand. You have me, baby. I’m yours.

She reflected on his words. I’m yours. Then, she recalled how, for one and a half years of their dating, he overwhelmed her with the details of his life. But he never once mentioned he was married. There was no ring on his finger; no tan line to show where a ring once nestled. By the time Rosa found out, she was chest-deep in love, and Jesse justified withholding the information, stating he was unhappy in his marriage and considering separating from his wife. I’m missing someone who values my worth. Often, I feel taken for granted. I need someone who appreciates me, flaws and all, not just for my achievements. He’d told her. Their love affair had blossomed and withstood the test of time. Time slipped by–Five years. Even after learning the truth of his double life, she continued in their relationship. He provided for her, and she met his needs.

Although he’d given her the down payment to purchase her first home, Rosa wanted to be his wife. She dreamed of having a house with a dog and three children. The eldest would be a boy, she had planned, so he can protect his younger sisters. We have a house, she thought. The next step is to start our family.

No, I don’t think you heard me. She repeated herself. Not ‘sharing’ you with anyone else and having ‘all of you’ for myself.

Come on, Rosa, are we doing this, ruining our exquisite meal and amazing night?

She pulled her shoulders back and pushed her chest forward.

Hmm, which meal are we referencing? From my viewpoint, I’ve been eating scraps, and I never signed up for this. You wanted someone who values your worth. Well, what about mine? What am I worth to you? Am I valuable enough for you to leave your wife?

We’ve already had this conversation, Rosa.

She recounted the number of times they had discussed when he was leaving his wife and when they could start having children. Each time, he told her to have patience, it will happen soon. Soon turned into a mighty long time. She thought, clenching her teeth to avoid making a scene.

He leaned across the table. You know what this is. We take care of each other, Rosa. I told you, I’m not leaving my wife and children right now. My career depends on me having stability and now isn’t the time for changes. You know I’m in love with you. I can’t believe you would question me about valuing your worth.

She tried to digest the words coming from his mouth, but they were too preposterous to swallow.

Now is not the time for changes. Huh! So where does that put me? When are we going to start our family?

I already have children. I told you, I’m not interested in having more.

When he spoke, rage moved through Rosa’s body as she adjusted herself in her seat, struggling to breathe as her blood pressure rose and her heartbeat fluttered. Part of her wanted to reach across the table and punch him in the throat, but inside, she felt conflicted with the agony of losing him. She looked back in time and quivered at the red flags she had ignored.

Rosa, decide. Go or stay? If you stay, you can’t blame anyone but yourself. In addition, you’ll regret being stuck in this embarrassing and degrading cycle. Her thoughts circled her mind. I’ve given him enough of me. It’s my time now. Besides, he’s made his choice. And the baby… Hell, I’m three months pregnant, but he doesn’t need to know.

She stared at him with disgust, making her choice. This will be the last time he makes me suffer. She realized it wasn’t all his fault. Although she didn’t sign up for the ride, she kept getting back in line. With clutched hands, she made a tight fist and rose from the table.

I guess I’ll see you in another life.

She said and hurried off through the crowded restaurant before he could stand to his feet to stop her.

After arriving home, the ten steps leading to her apartment’s door seemed to take forever to climb. Hands shaking, she rambled through the items resting at the bottom of her purse. As she touched one at a time, like a scavenger hunt in the dark, she ran her fingers around a familiar shape. Her father’s medallion key chain with a cross embedded he gave to her as a reminder to seek first the Kingdom of God. After retrieving her key, she struggled with the lock and couldn’t get the door opened fast enough.

Once inside, she greeted the sofa lying face down. Then, with a pillow covering her face, she let out a muffled scream until she exhausted her lungs. In a rage, she beat the pillow until her strength left; then held it to her face again and cried.

I trusted you! I trusted you!

Afterward, her body fell limp into the sofa.

The night she first met Jesse, dating was the last thing on her mind when she and her best friend exited her car and stepped out onto the curb of the Fourth Avenue Business District. Behind the heels of Deborah, she followed, as they made their way toward the entrance to the Blue Gardenia nightclub to celebrate Deborah’s new business. As if it were yesterday, she could hear the crowd of men standing underneath a nearby lamp post making obscene comments when they saw her. It wasn’t the powder-blue hip-hugger pants or the denim halter top she wore. Neither her afro spread reaching five inches high. But her curves and the way her hips swayed from side to side, the dimensions of her body as she walked with a bounce in each stride, caught the attention of her spectators. Afterward, one man offered, Let me get the door, Miss! while racing in front of her, opening the entrance door as he licked his lips from cheek to cheek. His gesture repulsed Rosa and reminded her why she had considered refusing Deborah’s invitation.

While she lay on the sofa thinking about that night, she could smell the pungent odor of cigar and cigarette smoke filling her lungs and becoming infused with her hair as it did once they entered the club. She recalled sitting at the bar scrutinizing the crowd of men. How they whispered into the women’s ears. Then, as if hypnotism or hocus-pocus had occurred, the women melted like chocolate being heated in a cast-iron skillet.

Sad, they have no clue these men are preparing to use them as sweet drippings—drizzling atop their favorite treat.

She’d said to herself as she watched the men sweeping the women away to a nearby corner or onto the dance floor.

Snakes!

What she called them—the wannabe male suitors who found the courage to approach her while sitting at the bar with her best friend. Men swarmed around her like bees to a beehive filled with honey. Deborah kept count as they approached Rosa and afterward, counted them leaving with defeated looks on their face.

Caudal luring juveniles, Rosa said, turning her back toward the men as they walked away. That’s what snakes do. They use caudal luring—where they twitch their body to attract and lure in their prey. The first three men were cottonmouth, rattlesnake and garter snake.

Garter snake, Rosa? Why garter snake?

Because he can only nibble my roses. See, here comes another one. Watch the way he slithers over here, Deborah.

While she continued crying into the pillow of the sofa, she grabbed a few tissues to blow her nose then remembered why she’d even given Jesse a chance when he approached her. It was Deborah’s suggestion as she made the statement,

Rosa, don’t you think you’re being too hard on men? You complain about being lonely while refusing a man’s advances. Be nice for a change.

And as Jesse approached, Deborah removed herself from the bar seat next to Rosa, making space available. Then, as she walked away, whispered to him.

Good luck. You’re going to need it.

And as she considered Deborah’s advice, she fixed her hard-core facade and smiled at Jesse.

That’s when he introduced himself and offered to buy her drinks. She watched as his hands quivered and he rubbed them together, attempting to ease his nerves. Then she asked,

Now that you’re here sitting next to me, who is Mr. Jesse Hunter? And after having an hour-long conversation, he said,

Duty calls for my return to base, but it would be an honor to continue this conversation over dinner when I get back next Saturday. May I pick you up at 7:00 pm and take you to dinner?

Then, choosing to let her guard down, she said, Sounds wonderful. Afterward, they exchanged phone numbers, then he walked her and Deborah to her car and watched as she drove away.

Looking back in time, she thought it ironic how on their drive home from the club Deborah commented,

Girl! Looks like the snake mastered the art of slithering. I saw you over there smiling and batting your eyelashes. I kept waiting for you to cut off his head and serve it to him on an ice-cold platter. So, what do you think about him?

Rosa shrugged her shoulders and pinched her lips together, refusing to divulge any information.

Oh, heck no! Don’t you dare be coy with me, Ms. Man Hater! Tell me something! Deborah said.

With little convincing, Rosa giggled and then broke her silence.

We made plans to meet again next weekend. I’m surprised, but he seems like a nice, respectful, and self-motivated man. Only one concern - I hope it was his nerves making him talk so much because I couldn’t get a word in.

Deborah let out a screeching sound, hurting Rosa’s ears, then said.

Rosa! You did it, girl! You found yourself a man, somebody to drink your bathwater. Don’t mess this up.

Slow down, Deborah, because I know nothing about this man, and you already got us naked, bathing, and… stuff. Slow down.

I’m saying I’m happy for you girl, Deborah said while giving her last comment on the matter before opening the car door, exiting, and saying goodnight.

As Rosa cried while revisiting their journey, she wished she’d used the piercing look of her eyes to chop off Jesse’s head. At least she would have lived to smile another day. The more she mourned her loss, the more she hated the day they met and before long she had cried herself to sleep.

The next morning, Sunday, she awakened to the blaring noise of her cuckoo bird clock alerting her to start the day. Then, with her eyes closed, she reached across the bed to turn off the alarm clock, only to realize she was on the sofa and wearing yesterday’s clothing. Into the bedroom, she stumbled, and while her bed called for her, she released the clock’s alarm. Afterward, escaping to the kitchen, she fixed a cup of coffee before showering and brushing her teeth; she then found the strength to dress for church. As she untangled the twisted coils of her hair with her fingers, the phone rang in the distance, but she refused to answer.

You got this.

She told herself before applying the rich berry red lipstick purchased the day before with intentions of wearing it for Jesse. As she looked into the mirror, she pressed her lips together and fought back her tears. ‘Put God first, no matter what you’re going through.’ She recalled her mother saying as she headed out the door to the church.

She arrived late twenty minutes, dressed in all black with a red and black wool pillbox hat worn off-center of her head. As usual, her sister Katie saved a seat next to her. Rosa tiptoed to her reserved seat, holding one finger in the air. Pastor Kingsley had already approached the podium. With a microphone in hand, he sang his favorite hymnal, Love Lifted Me. Goosebumps rose on Rosa’s arms.

Love, Pastor Kingsley said and proceeded with his sermon.

Rosa fidgeted with her fingers, trying to stay focused, but the words he uttered triggered a pain inside she wasn’t prepared to contend with. She searched the sanctuary and welcomed the well-needed distraction she was seeking—church lady hats. By the end of Pastor Kingsley’s sermon, she was familiar with them all. She counted each color, knew which lady’s heads were bigger than others, and determined which hats were hand-me-downs and which were new purchases.

Rosa! Katie nudged her in the side with an elbow.

Ow! Katie!

Didn’t you hear me?

No! I was listening to Pastor Kingsley’s message.

He finished his sermon five minutes ago, Rosa. Can you pass the offering tray?

Katie pointed to the usher standing at the end of their pew. He had been waiting for Rosa to accept the red-velvet-lined wooden offering plate. She took the plate in hand and an extra minute digging through her purse, fishing for two quarters. After placing the coins inside the plate, she dropped her head and passed the plate along.

After service, Katie pulled Rosa outside.

Your eyes are puffy. Have you been crying?

I had a rough night, Rosa said.

After leaving the church, Deborah’s words, Girl! Looks like the snake mastered the art of slithering... resonated with Rosa as she took the scenic route home. She thought about what she could have done differently. Arriving home, she entered the apartment and after changing into her nightgown, she chose a book to read. Once she settled for the evening, her phone rang. She hesitated to answer, wanting to avoid Jesse’s calls. When the continuous ringing became unbearable, she picked up the phone and said, Hello.

What are you doing today? A familiar voice asked.

What do you want, LeRoy?

Don’t be so mean, Rosa. I was calling to ask if you would like to join me next weekend to attend a concert. James Brown is coming to town. I’ll pick you up, and it will be like old times.

What old times? You’re delusional, LeRoy. I kissed you in the fifth grade on a dare.

Yeah, but I know you still want me because I can feel it.

Boy, please! You and Joe going fishing next weekend?

Not next weekend. You know nobody goes fishing in the middle of December. Not Black folks anyway. Didn’t you hear me say you and I are going to see James Brown? She rolled her eyes toward the ceiling. No, LeRoy, not next weekend. I already have plans. See if Joe will go with you.

Alright, it’s your loss. You’re going to wait too long, Rosa, and somebody’s going to snatch me up. Better take advantage while you can. I don’t mind.

Bye, LeRoy. Have fun. Rosa said, ending the call.

LeRoy and Rosa had been friends since the third grade. To Rosa, he was like an annoying brother she couldn’t live with and couldn’t live without. A house fire caused him to lose both his mother and father at the early age of eight. When the fire trapped his mother inside, his father ran in to rescue her. Neither of them escaped. After the incident, he lived with his grandmother on his father’s side of the family, who lived next door to Rosa’s family. LeRoy would often come to their home and play with Joe, Rosa’s older brother. Since he was an only child, Rosa’s mom would often ask permission for him to stay overnight. Most times, when he would come over, her mom would prepare an extra plate and invite him to stay for dinner. He held a soft spot in her mom’s heart. When it came time for him to go home, her mom would send a plate of food with him to his grandmother. Ever since they were teenagers, LeRoy would go fishing with her brother Joe. This had become their Saturday ritual.

Since the day Rosa’s younger sister, Katie, dared her to kiss LeRoy in the fifth grade and she was foolish enough to do so, LeRoy desired Rosa as his own. From that day forward, he was protective of her—claiming her as his girl. No matter how many times she explained to him it was a dare, he refused to accept her truth. Rosa stopped wasting her time trying to convince him. She pegged him as another annoying brother. After high school, LeRoy’s grandmother passed away and Rosa’s family accepted him as their own.

For the next few weeks, Rosa stayed busy. As a nurse, she worked a twelve-hour shift, from 3:00 pm to 3:00 am, and sometimes pulled a double to keep Jesse off her mind. Exhausted upon arriving home from work, she removed her shoes to massage her feet. Meanwhile, she noticed fifteen missed calls from Jesse and pressed the button to listen to his messages. From the sound of his voice, she could smell the enticing scent of his cologne calling out to her. The crisp and woody aromatic fragrance made her toes tingle. She glanced around to confirm he wasn’t there.

God, I miss him so much. I can’t! I can’t do this alone!

She picked up the phone and dialed the number.

Hello.

Not sure if she wanted to move forward with her action, she held the phone in silence.

Hello. Rosa, is this you?

Yes. Can you please come over?

Within an hour, she heard a key turning in the door.

Rosa, where are you?

The voice asked while searching the house, then finding her curled in a fetal position, tears rolling down her eyes and wads of mucus-filled toilet paper decorating the bedding. Her guest joined her in bed, cuddled her, and rocked her back and forth.

I’m here, Rosa. I’m here. They lay together for an hour.

Katie, I messed up big time.

Have you eaten, Rosa?

No.

How about I fix you a nutritious breakfast and then you can tell your sister all about this big mess? Remember, we’ve been through a lot together. There’s nothing too big for us.

Rosa struggled to get out of bed. With heaviness in her legs and her arms dangling by her sides, she made her way into the kitchen. After washing her hands, she filled the electric teakettle with water. Katie pulled her hair back into a bun, washed her hands, and took the breakfast items from the refrigerator, taking only thirty minutes to whip up something special.

Only a year apart in age, Rosa and Katie were very close—like Bonnie and Clyde. Rosa always protected Katie, and Katie always had Rosa’s back. At age eleven, they made a pinky promise to never keep secrets. Until Rosa met Jesse, they had both kept their promise.

Katie stared into Rosa’s eyes, recognizing the depression highlighting her face. As she took in her last bite and sipped on a glass of tea, it compelled her to ask.

What’s going on, Rosa? You’re not your usual self.

I’m pregnant with Jesse’s child, Katie. The married man.

To avoid judging, Katie needed a moment to absorb the words. Didn’t you break up with him a year ago?

We didn’t break up when I told you we did. I tried, but it was hard. This time, I broke it off for real - three weeks ago.

So, what are his plans to support the baby?

He hasn’t changed, Katie. He doesn’t want any children. Rosa said, then broke into tears.

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