by J. J. Murray
“I am?” Lord, You know that’s what I’m doing, and I know it’s very un-Christian of me, but someone has to do it. “Does it bother you?”
“Yes.”
My eyes pop.
“I mean, no, it doesn’t bother me as in making me angry or anything like that. It just ... keeps me up at night, you know?”
Finally. I’m affecting him in the bedroom. Good for me.
Sorry, Lord. It’s just nice to know that I still got it. I am almost forty, You know.
“Shawna, what I’m trying to say, and I’m saying it very badly, is that you don’t have to seduce me. Aside from my kids, I can think of no one else all day and all night. I can’t sleep, I don’t eat, I get lost on my way to customers—and I’ve lived in this town much of my life.”
“You get lost?”
“Yeah. I’ll be driving and listening to the radio and suddenly I’ll look around and say, ‘Where am I?’”
“You do?” My routine should be copied into a how-to book on seduction.
“Shawna, you have me, okay? I’m yours.”
“All mine?”
“All yours. Are you, uh, are you ...”
“Finish your sentence, Joe.” I’m trying to get him to talk sexy to me, something he most likely never did with Cheryl. I have to be able to talk about making love with the man I’m with, and not just the “Want some? Sure.” type of talking. We have to be able to communicate sexually, and if I can’t get him to talk here at a McDonald’s about it, well ...
“Do you think of me that way?”
“What way?” Say it, Joe. Spit it out!
“Do you make love to me in your head as much as I make love to you in mine?”
I nod. Sorry, Lord. “Are you, I mean, are we up in there doing it right now?”
He looks up. Maybe he’s apologizing to God for what he’s about to say, too.
“Shawna, you keep me awake all night.”
Okay, now I’m getting hot and bothered in a good way. I need to cool us off. “All night, huh? Well, what are we going to do about that?”
He sets his jaw and purses his lips. I’ve learned this is a sign that he is about to announce a decision. “We need to figure out a way for our kids to have ‘us’ in their lives.”
I smile inside. Time for a test. “Joe, I’m sorry to tell you this, but until you prove to me that we are an ‘us,’ I don’t know if I can help you.”
His face drains of the little color he has. “You don’t know ... But what about—”
“Joe, you have to prove it to me.”
“Prove it? How am I going to prove it?”
I lick my lower lip. His mouth always opens slightly when I do that.
“Right here? Right now?” he asks.
I nod.
He leans closer. “How?”
“Well, you could kiss me on the lips. That will give me a little proof. As you know, I haven’t been kissed on the lips for a long time, Joe, and I’m wondering how much you really, really want me.”
He slides into my side of the booth, takes my face into his hands, and kisses me.
Tasty. Like apple pies and coffee. I’ll bet his kisses will taste even better with some grapes.
“Thank you, Joe.”
“I want to do much more, Shawna.”
“Yeah? What kind of things do you want to do?”
“Intimate things.”
He’s still so shy! “How intimate?”
“The kind of intimate things you do late at night when all the kids are asleep, with candles lit and soft music playing and we’ve turned the air conditioner off and it’s hot and steamy and sweaty and we can’t get enough of each other—”
I kiss him to stop him from starting a fire right here in this booth. He’s not so shy after all! “That sounds ... good, Joe.” I can’t go back to work now and yell at a bunch of teenagers! I need to sleep all this off or take a long, cold shower or something. “So, we need to win over our kids.” I pull out a pen and write: “Family Outings” on it. “Let’s make a list of family outings where we can bump into each other often.” Sorry, Lord. I slide a few inches away from Joe. “Let’s make a long list.”
He nods.
“Um, okay. Let’s see ... Crystal has a game at PH this Friday. Why don’t you bring your family to that?”
“Sure. But Rose is still on punishment.”
As she should be. “So just you and the boys can go.”
“But going to a girls’ basketball game? That might be a hard sell.”
“There’s a JV boy’s game followed by the girl’s game followed by the boy’s varsity game. That’s at least four hours of basketball, most of it male.”
“Right. I didn’t mean ...”
I stop him with my eyes.
“Sure. That would be great.”
I write it down. “Her season is almost over, though. What else could we do?”
31
Joe
“I havesome ideas, but they’re all going to sound lame.” And my heart is finally slowing down. Where did all that ... lust come from? Maybe Shawna brings it out of me. No. It’s all me, Lord. You’re right.
“Where have you taken your kids before?”
This is going to be the lame part. “Moto-Cross and Monster Trucks at the Salem Civic Center.”
“Oh.”
“Loud, muddy, destructive. Jimmy had a ball.”
She writes it down.
“And, uh, hockey games.”
Shawna blinks.
“Rose actually likes to go.”
“Yeah?”
“The players are cute.”
Shawna writes it down.
“Let’s see, there’s always Putt-Putt when the weather warms up.”
She drops the pen. “Joe, don’t take this the wrong way, but ... Monster Trucks, hockey, and golf are not part of my kids’ culture.”
“I know. Unfortunately, I’ve made them part of ours. Sorry.”
She picks up the pen. “Okay, what else?”
“What about Festival in the Park?”
“Isn’t that in May?”
Three months from now. “I think so.”
She writes it down. “Well, I guess all this is something to work towards.”
“Um, after that is the Salem Fair.”
She doesn’t write it down. “We can’t afford that.”
“Neither can we, but we go with the Val-Pak coupons. Even then, we spend ... a hundred bucks or so. And I hate every minute of it. So crowded, rude people, a fight last year ... No, don’t write it down.”
She writes it down anyway. “Toni and Jimmy will have fun. Maybe we’ll only take those two and leave before it gets dark.”
“Sure.”
She smiles. “There’s always church ...”
My turn to blink.
“We worship the same God, Joe. Just in different ways.”
I hadn’t thought of this at all! “The kids have attended Shenandoah Baptist their entire lives.”
She frowns. “Yeah. Church might be a problem. My kids like Pilgrim Baptist. Is there an interracial church in Roanoke?”
“I don’t know.”
“I never thought I’d have to leave Pilgrim to get a man. Hmm. Are you thinking what I’m thinking?”
“This is hard.” And it is.
“That’s what I’m thinking, too. And where will we live?” A huge “huh” escapes my lips before I can stop it.
“We are talking about a serious commitment, aren’t we, Joe?”
“Yes, but ...”
“Look, Joe. We’re two grown folks, right?”
“Right.”
“And we’re too old, or at least I’m too old, to beat around the bush. If you’re feeling for me what I’m feeling for you, we are going to get together and get married ... aren’t we?”
“Yes, Shawna. That’s what I want.”
“It’s what I want, too. And when we ... blend our families, we will have to make a whole lot of chan
ges that our kids just won’t like much. They may even hate us for it. Are you ready for that?”
32
Shawna
Lord, it’s sounding as if I’m trying to talk myself out of everything, but I’m not. I just want Joe to know what I think might happen.
“They’ve already been through so much,” he says.
“And so have we, Joe. So have we. Don’t we deserve some happiness?”
He nods. “I am happy, Shawna, happier than I ever thought I’d be after all that’s happened. And you’re the reason.”
I touch his hand. “Thank you. You’re sweet. But look, we’ve been straight with each other, right?”
“Right.”
“So why are we beating around the bush so much with our kids? I love you, you love me, and two people who love each other should be together no matter what.”
He doesn’t agree right away, and that scares me. “We’re not even beating anywhere near the bush, Shawna, and I think I know why.”
“Tell me.”
“It’s because we love our kids, too.”
He’s right. We don’t want them to have any pain that can be avoided. I have spent the last eight years protecting them from pain, and here I am preparing some pain for them. “I know, Joe. I understand.”
“But ...”
I look up.
“But if we do this right, and we do it with love, and we pray about it a lot, I know it can work out,” he says.
“We’re going to have to pray without ceasing, Joe.”
“I know.”
I look at the list. “And this list ...”
“I know. It’s a crummy list.”
I drop the pen. “We’re just going to tell them. Tonight.”
“Yes.” He sighs. “Any ideas on how to tell them?”
“I haven’t the slightest idea.” I smile. “Out loud?”
33
Joe
“Family meeting!”
They troop down the stairs quickly this time. They’re starting to respond to me more and more because of my firmer hand.
Either that or there’s nothing on TV.
“What’s this one about, Dad?” Jimmy asks.
“I’ll tell you as soon as you’re all seated.”
They sit, looking up at me. I think I liked them better when they were looking everywhere but me. My legs start to quiver, so I sit.
“You okay, Dad?” Joey asks.
“Yes. Thanks for asking.” This is so hard! Where to begin? I almost want to ask them to bow their heads and pray with me. I know You are here, Lord. Help me.
“Well?” Rose asks.
“Okay, this is important, and I want you all to listen with your heart as well as your ears. Just ... really listen.” I take one of the deepest breaths of my life. “You know the woman I went out with the other night? She’s more than a friend.”
No reaction. The mantel clock ticks on.
I sigh. “I’ve been kind of dating her for a little while now, and—”
“When?” Rose asks with acid in her voice.
Jesus, now would be a good time for You to come back. “Well, we haven’t exactly been dating. I had been talking to her online for a while—”
“Online?” Rose asks.
“Yes, but that was before we realized we were both from Roanoke. We’ve had a lunch date, an ice-cream date, we’ve been talking on the phone for a while now, and I see her at her work—”
“What’s her name, Dad?” Joey asks.
I look at Joey, who I hope will not grimace, frown, or wince. “Shawna. Shawna Mitchell. Junior Mitchell’s mother.”
Joey ... smiles. Thank you, son.
And Rose isn’t reacting at all. Maybe she’s okay with Shawna being black. She didn’t say much the other night. “And—”
“How old is she?” Jimmy asks.
“What does her age have to do with anything?” I ask him.
“I dunno,” Jimmy says. “Just wondering.”
“Sorry, Jimmy, I ... I think she’s in her late thirties, and—”
“You think?” Rose says. “You don’t know?”
“It’s not polite to ask a woman’s age, Rose,” I say.
No reaction.
“Well,” I continue, “as you may know, she has three kids. Let’s see, Crystal is eighteen, and—”
“Three kids?” Rose asks.
Rose is getting on my nerves. “Yes. Junior is sixteen, and Toni is eight.”
“Junior and Crystal ride our bus,” Joey says.
And then, Rose’s face changes. Oh, Lord, her face ! I have never seen that face! I will have nightmares about that face!
“Them?” Rose asks, her voice shaking. She stands. “You have got to be kidding!”
“I wouldn’t kid about something this important, Rose.”
Her mouth opens and shuts several times before she asks, “How important?”
I take a deep breath. “Shawna and I are talking about getting married.”
Rose closes her eyes. “You’re ... you’re out of your mind.”
She turns, runs to the stairs, and stomps up before I can speak. Her door slams. The mantel clock ticks. Has my heart stopped? Oh, Lord, please help her understand.
I look at my sons. “So, um, what do you two think? Are you okay with it?”
Joey nods. Jimmy doesn’t move.
“What do you think, Jimmy?”
Jimmy’s eyes seem so far away.
“Uh, well,” I say, “we have a whole lot to work out before then, so—”
Jimmy bolts from the table, taking the stairs two at a time.
“Jimmy, come back!” I yell, but another slamming door silences the house. I look at Joey. “Thanks for not leaving.”
“You’re welcome.”
“I knew they’d have trouble, but ...”
“I think it’s cool, Dad.”
Oh, here come the tears. “It is cool. It’s so cool it’s positively cold.”
Joey laughs.
“I’m going to need your help, Joey. We need to help them understand. When we get married, and we will get married, we’ll all be living in the same house together.”
“Where?”
Excellent question. “I don’t know where for sure. Probably here, with some modifications. But we haven’t thought that far ahead yet. If we had enough money—and we don’t—we’d need ... seven bedrooms and at least, what, four bathrooms? I don’t even know where to look for a house like that.”
“Junior and I can share a room.”
“True, but ...” I look upstairs. “Can you see Crystal and Rose in the same room?”
“Dad,” Joey says, “I can’t even see Crystal and Rose in the same house.”
Neither can I.
34
Shawna
I take a little quiet time in my room reading Psalm 23. Lord, be my shepherd tonight, and comfort me with that rod and staff of Yours.
I’m going to need it.
And keep that rod and staff handy, Lord. If Crystal gets out of line, You have my permission to jerk her back into the fold.
I approach them after dinner while the three of them are doing their homework at the kitchen table. Crystal’s recent presence here at the table surprises me, but I have that basketball coach to thank. That coach is a godsend, checking her grades often, keeping her out of practice if she falls behind in class. I look at Junior, who is blossoming into a man, and at Toni, who is so full of life.
Lord, please keep them this way after I tell them ...
“Mama, are you all right?” Junior asks.
“Yes.” I sit at the head of the table.
After hearing several of my sighs, they look up at me.
“I have something to tell you,” I say, “so y’all can take a break for a few minutes.”
Pen, pencil, and crayon drop instantaneously. They obviously needed a break.
“You know I don’t like to beat around the bush, so I’ll tell it to you straight.�
� Inhale. Stop your feet from running. Set your jaw like Joe does. Open your mouth ... Exhale. Get scared. Ask your youngest child to sit on your lap for comfort. “Come here, Toni.”
She comes to me, sitting on my lap.
Try again. Don’t look at Crystal. Look only at Toni. “Joe and I intend to get married.”
“Good,” Junior says immediately. “Good.”
Oh, that boy makes me want to cry!
Crystal still hasn’t breathed, but Toni lights up. “Really?”
“Really,” I tell her. “I know this won’t be easy—”
“You can say that again!” Crystal shouts.
Put your eyes back in your head. Wait for the ringing in your ears to stop. Check your youngest child. Toni is squinting. Look sideways at your oldest, fire-breathing daughter. Hug your youngest child, using your youngest child as a shield.
“You’re hooking up with ...” Crystal picks up her pen again. She has a weapon. Watch the weapon. “He’s white, Mama.”
Slow down your racing heart. Give up trying to slow down your racing heart. Your heart is just going to race. “Yes.”
“This is a joke, right?” Crystal asks.
Don’t look at her, don’t look ... Okay, look. Crystal is staring hard at me, probing my face. “No joke.”
“But he’s ... and his daughter ...”
Pray that the pen point is dull.
“Have you lost your mind, Mama?”
Laugh, but not too hard. Smile. Don’t scare your youngest child. “A little. Love can make you crazy, I guess.”
Crystal stands. “Crazy ain’t the word, Mama. Dumb is the word. Stupid is the word. Messed-up is the word.”
“That’s a hyphenated word,” Junior says.
“Shut up, Junior.” Crystal starts to gather her books and notebooks.
“Sit down, Crystal. I’m not through talking.”
“Well, I’m through listening,” she says, waving the pen in my face.
“I said, sit ... down.”
Crystal comes back but won’t sit, standing behind her chair and fuming. At least she came back.
“I have spent the last eight years just being your mama, and, don’t get me wrong, I have treasured each and every moment. I never thought I’d meet a man who could even compete with your daddy, but I have.”
