I sat on the side of my bed. Picked up my cell phone. Wrestled with myself. I didn’t know if I should drag her into this or not, but I didn’t want to think it through alone. She may have been a baby Christian, but honestly, what kind of Christian was I? And yet my internal conflicts were too much to bear without a girlfriend.
I punched her number in. She answered right away, her voice bright and perky. Obviously, she’d had her vat of coffee.
“Kal?”
Through the anguish in my voice with that one word, she must have sensed the war going on in my head. “Bell, are you okay?”
“Yeah. Will you go shopping with me?”
“Sure, but…Did something happen?”
“I went to the doctor. I got some bad news. There’s more, but right now I just need to shop. Are you sure you can spare a few hours?”
“I’ll take two weeks off and shop in Paris with you, if that’s what you need. I’ll do that if that’snot what you need. Are you sure you’re okay?”
“I’m not really okay.”
“Where are we shopping?”
“I don’t know. Let’s just say I know the softer side of Sears all too well. I need to break free. You may need to lead this little excursion.”
“Do you need me to drive?”
“Probably. And I may need you to do something else for me this afternoon. Can you take the day off? I’ll pay you for your time.”
“Girl, you don’t have to pay me. I’m down with whatever you need. Will you tell me what’s up when I get you?”
“Always the reporter, huh, Kal?”
“Naw, girl, I’m a nosy friend. When should I come?”
“As soon as you can.”
“I’m leaving right now.”
I hung up the phone. I hadn’t known if I could trust her that day in the police station. Now I thanked God for her. She was a proverbial ram——well, sheep in the bush whom God had sent to help me in a tough situation.
Even though she was a reporter, Kal didn’t press me——no pun intended——for information. She let me sit quietly in her Toyota, lost in my thoughts.
I let her choose the mall, telling her only that we needed “girl stuff.” We bypassed the local Briarwood Mall and drove farther, to Twelve Oaks, which looked for all the world like Briarwood to me. Okay, it did have a few more upscale stores. All right, a lot more. It boasted a Nordstrom, an Aéropostale, a Betsey Johnson, and other names I didn’t know, but they smelled rich. They were places I couldn’t afford.
I trudged through the parking lot, Kalaya darting worried glances at me intermittently. We walked around aimlessly for ten minutes, and when I finally stopped, she looked confused. “This is where you want to go?”
I shrugged. “I guess.”
She looked at Victoria’s Secret, her eyebrows raised. “Okay.”
I ambled inside, feeling utterly depressed and confused. A saleslady in a black suit asked if we needed help. I needed help, all right. I told her I needed some time. That was an understatement. But I didn’t have time.
I looked around, feeling like I was in some kind of teeny-weeny-bra-and-panties nightmare. They were all coming at me, thousands of them, all at once, set to a screeching horror-movie sound track, and none of them was my size. “Oh, Kalaya. I’m too fat for this.”
“You so aren’t too fat. What size do you wear?”
“Ten. But I’m short. I don’t do size ten like you do.”
“Cut it out. What exactly are you looking for today?”
“I’m looking for Victoria’s secret. I thought the secret was that she got rich selling overpriced drawers to suckers like my sister, but apparently, she’s on to something. And it ain’t about money. That’s what I’m looking for! Do you think they have books about that sort of thing here?”
“They don’t sell books here. And I’m not sure that’s the kind of book you should be reading.”
I scanned the store and moaned. “You want to know what’s wrong with me? I feel like I’m an awkward, geeky fifteen-year-old in Carly’s underwear drawer. But I’m not fifteen, in Carly’s shadow. I’m thirty-five. And the finest man I know——the finest man I’ve ever known——wantsme ! Not Carly! Me!
“I should be able to do this kind of shopping without an escort. I should be able to feel good about him desiring me. Right? I don’t need to have anyone’s permission to be loved, do I? Or to be sexy?”
Kalaya cleared her throat. “Bell, could you lower your voice? People are staring.”
“Oh.”
Still. My indignation hadn’t burned out. I stormed over to a bin full of frilly wisps of fabric not much larger than shoelaces that were supposed to be underwear. I fingered through them, thinking that you-know-where would freeze over before Jazz would see one of them on me.
Kalaya trailed behind me. “What happened at the doctor’s office?”
“He told me if I don’t have a baby now, the chances are I never will. And then Jazz asked me to marry him. Right there in the office. He wants us to have a family together. Starting today. At three.” I grabbed a red thong from the bin and got really disgusted. I held it up. “What is this? How is a full-figured woman supposed to be covered wearing dental floss?”
Kalaya didn’t seem concerned about thongs. She squealed. “Really? He proposed?”
“Oh,” I said, the weight of it all hitting me. “Jazz proposed. He asked me to marry him. I think I’m going to be sick.” I started wobbling like a Weeble. I was sure Kalaya was too young to know what that was. I didn’t bother to explain.
She took my arm. “Okay. Easy now. Do you want to sit down?”
I buried my head in the thongs. “I don’t want to sit down. I want to pick out something that’s going to devastate, thrill, and delight him.”
Okay, I so didn’t like my head buried in the thongs. I pulled myself upright. I wandered over to a display of Pink pajamas. They seemed tame, manageable, by my standards. I could breathe around the Pink stuff.
“I haven’t shopped in Victoria’s Secret without Carly dragging me in here since…Kalaya, I’ve never shopped in Victoria’s Secret by myself! I feel lost in here. And you know what’s funny? Yesterday I felt sexy. Today, when I can make being sexy legal, I don’t know what to do. I don’t know if I should get red, or white, or black——or anything, for heaven’s sake. And this is just lingerie! God help me, what am I supposed to do about a wedding dress?”
I walked briskly to a display of angel wings only to flee them in despair. I definitely didn’t belong around the angel wings.
I found a display of bras that looked bright and colorful. Something teenagers would wear. “Kal, I just said I don’t remember how to devastate a man. The truth is, I have never in my life devastated a man. I have barely gotten men’s attention. What in the world am I supposed to do with a man like Jazz Brown?”
I grabbed a Kool-Aid-orange bra, size 36DD. “Kate had bosoms like this. That dead woman has the power to destroy my self-esteem!” I felt tears cloud my eyes. “She was five years younger than me. Gorgeous. I can’t compete with that. And what about the wedding dress? Should I get a black one? Because lemme tell you…” I couldn’t stop the tears now.
“Bell, you did not sleep with Jazz.”
“No, I slept with a fewother men. Maybe more than a few.”
“That was years ago. You earned your virginity back.”
“What if he did it, Kalaya?”
“What if who did what?”
“What if Jazz did that unthinkable thing everyone else thinks he did? What if he killed Kate and I got this all wrong?”
“You know you don’t believe that.”
“I’m so scared.”
“I know you are. But you have to ask yourself what you’re really scared of. Are you scared he’s a murderer, or are you scared because committing your life to a man is terrifying?” She took my hand. “Look. Kate Townsend was up to no good, and whatever she was playing at, and whomever she was playing with, had nothi
ng to do with Jazz. I asked Kate about Jazz. And she got miffed. She knew he was diggin’ you.She brought you up. She said he was so-called in love.”
“You didn’t tell me that.”
“I didn’t think I needed to. I thought you knew he loves you.”
“Will you be my maid of honor?”
“Of course I will. Now, let’s get you some great lingerie. You’d better let me help you out. Unfortunately, I got mad skills in this.”
“Will you help me pick out a dress, too? I’ll buy you whatever dress you want.”
“Are you kidding? I’d love to find you a dress. But I’ll buy my own dress. And we’ll get some shoes, and our hair and nails done. Girl, we gon’ get fine for Mr. Brown today. And I’m treating you to the pampering and beauty treatments. And we’d better hurry. We don’t have much time. You are going to be so dope. Don’t you worry, Bell. I’ll take care of you.”
I let her do just that.
chapter twenty-one
KALAYA ANDIARRIVEDlooking so dope, to use Kalaya’s language, that I thought Jazz may not be able to drive once he partook of me.
The dress we’d chosen for my nuptials was a startlingly beautiful white satin cocktail-length formal. Soft fabric twists provided a bit of sass to the simple halter neckline. It was like the red dress that I’d met him in, but all grown up; softer, wiser, and ready to take a walk down the aisle——or across a few feet of office space——to meet him. Sasha would be proud. Of the dress, that is.
However, she’d take a belt to my backside if she knew what I was doing. Just the same, I wanted my mother there. I wanted what I’d imagined in my girlish dreams so many times before: her hands flying like doves around me as she fussed over satin, lace, and my long, flowing veil. The clucks from her and Maggie. Ma saying, “You should have worn a Wonderbra.” And Maggie: “She needs amiracle bra” Then Carly: “Honey, you just need amiracle. ”
We stood in the bathroom, Kalaya primping and me pretending that I wasn’t preoccupied with bigger concerns than makeup running if the threatening tears appeared.
Don’t you cry, girl. You’re going to be fat and sassy next Mother’s Day, with a belly full of Jazz’s baby.
I couldn’t help it. A tear slid down my cheek, and it took my mascara with it on its trip down south.
Kalaya turned me to face her. “Oh, honey.”
“I’m sorry. I miss my mother and sister. And Aunt Maggie.”
She gathered me into a hug. “They’ll celebrate later. At the baby shower.”
“What if he really doesn’t love me? What if he’s just doing this to have a baby?”
“Bell, that man can have a baby with somebody else if he wants to. He wants you.You, honey.” She stepped away from me long enough to grab a piece of tissue. Wiped my face with it. “Let’s go in there so you can marry the man you love. The man who loves you. Okay?”
“Okay.”
I followed her down the hall. At Mason’s office, she knocked on the door. Another wave of panic hit me. “Nobody is here to give me away.”
Kalaya opened her mouth, but no sound came out. She shook her head. That was something she couldn’t do.
Dr. McLogan opened the door. He held a bouquet of Madonna lilies, roses, and baby’s breath. “Jazz bought these for you,” he said.
I reached for them, tentative, amazed. Roses, baby’s breath, and lilies were the favorite flowers of Mary the Blessed Virgin. Jazz had chosen flowers that symbolized chastity, fidelity, miracles, mother and child.
Lord, have mercy.
What am I doing here?
Dr. McLogan saw my face. “Oh, you poor dear. What’s the matter?” He stepped into the hall and closed the door behind him.
I fell apart. “Jazz picked flowers about Jesus’ pure mama, and I’m so awful. And what if none of this works out? And my daddy isn’t here. I’m supposed to walk in there on the strong arm of my daddy, and he’s not here…And what if this doesn’t work out? I’m so scared. I don’t want to make another mistake. And…” I snuffled and tried to hold back the sobs.
“Oh, my dear one. I’ll loan you these arms of mine. They aren’t very strong, I’m afraid. But they’re good arms. I’ve delivered many of God’s little ones with them.”
I must have wailed for a full five minutes while Dr. McLogan soothed and Kalaya rubbed my arms and back. Both of them huddled around me, hemming me in, reminding me of a verse I loved.
You hem me in——behind and before;
you have laid your hand upon me.
Did God still have me hemmed in? Or had I broken free, about to wreak havoc in my life once again? Should I stay or should I go?
My heart desperately wanted to stay. Desperately wanted to be loved and to give love——to Jazz. To pour everything I had, and everything I was, into him.
But pouring out opened the door for poison to come back in. It left my heart vulnerable.
After I pulled myself together, Kalaya hugged me long and hard. She pulled away. “You’re doing the right thing, Bell. You are. Don’t be afraid.”
Dr. McLogan took my face in his hands just as my daddy would. “Mason and I are right here, dear girl. And we wouldn’t do anything or allow anything that would hurt you. You know that. We’d do everything to protect you.”
His hands, dry and powdery, continued to cup my cheeks. “You’ll get to have a real wedding later, and everyone will be there, but right now it’s best to do this quietly. Everything will be fine, dear one. Jazz is a good man. I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t believe that.”
I nodded, wiped my face, and turned to Kalaya. “Is my makeup okay?”
“Girl, it looks like we wasted our time in that bathroom.”
Dr. McLogan chuckled. “I’m not an expert at these things, but it looks like you’ve made a bit of a mess. You are a lovely bride just the same.”
Kalaya nodded. “He’s right.”
“Okay.”
“If it helps, he’s as nervous as you are. But for different reasons.”
“He is?”
“He loves you, dear one. Let’s get in there. Your husband-to-be is anxious to see you.”
I hooked my arm in Dr. McLogan’s. He opened the office door, and everything disappeared——the beautiful leather furniture, the dark, brooding wood, the books, the African art, all of it gone. All but Jazz. His head was down, but as the door swung open, he looked up, and his face changed before my eyes. Suddenly, he had the face of a little boy filled with delight. For a moment I glimpsed in him the child I hoped I would kiss, comfort, and mother someday——my own son. “Dear God,” I whispered.
I don’t remember moving. I only know that one moment I was clutching Dr. McLogan, and the next I was facing the most beautiful man I’d ever seen, our hands clasped over the gap between us. And that fine, fine man began saying things to God about me. And he sounded like he meant them.
Mason asked him a question: “Wilt thou love her, comfort her, honor, and keep her in sickness and in health; and, forsaking all others, keep thee only unto her, so long as ye both shall live?”
I looked into Jazz’s eyes——delicious brown eyes, soft and warm as Ma Brown’s double-chocolate brownies. They were calling to me, calling me to trust. To love.
Jazz nodded a tiny, just-for-me nod. “I will,” he answered.
Mason to me, in his “God’s trombones” voice: “Wilt thou have this man to be thy wedded husband, to live together after God’s ordinance in the holy estate of matrimony?”
Oh, yes.How does one stay anchored to the ground when a dream is coming true? And yet how does one fly when chained by fear and uncertainty? Truth was, this marriage had little to do with a baby and everything to do with the deepest desires of my heart.
“Wilt thou obey him and serve him…” Mason’s voice disappeared into the sound like the adults on Charlie Brown cartoons talking.Wonka wonk wonk wah wah. Then his words startled me out of my consuming questions.Obey and serve?
“Amanda?” Mason said softl
y.
“I’m sorry. Could you clarify ‘obey’?”
He tried to suppress a smile. “That means you’ll do what he asks you to do, pumpkin.”
Obey and serve?Ugly events from my past gave the words a sinister meaning. “Is that effective immediately?”
“Effective as soon as you say ‘I will.’”
“Even before you pronounce us?”
Mason laughed. “I told you you’d have your hands full with this one, Jazz.”
“So I see,” my husband-to-be said. He didn’t sound amused. He leaned toward me. “Just say ‘I will.’”
“Are you going to make unreasonable demands?” I asked.
“I just promised to love and comfort you for as long as I live. Now stop torturing me and say you’ll obey me.”
“But——”
“Are you planning on opposing me in something important to you while we’re standing here?”
“No.”
“Then say ‘I will’ so we can go on.”
I looked at him, then at Mason, who thought this was funny. Kalaya nudged me. “Say it,” she hissed through a smile.
Peace slid over me from some other place. “Okay, I will.”
Jazz rolled his eyes.
Mason instructed Jazz to give unto me a ring. It was short notice, so I expected something basic. But Jazz took my hand in his and pulled out a stunner. It was a one-of-a-kind breathtaking vintage Addie Lee Brown creation from the late sixties, when she’d made a brief but amazing foray into metalsmithing. She’d created a band of Madonna lilies and vines in white gold dotted with diamonds. There was only one like it in the world. The last I knew, it had been on loan to the Smithsonian Institution. I’d seen it there when I lived in Washington, D.C., and I had fallen in love with it. And Jazz was slipping it on my finger. Which meant he must have told his parents.
So much for our secret marriage.
I may have lost a large portion of our wedding ceremony staring at my ring.
Jazz yanked me back to it when he said something like “Wonka wonk wonk wah wahwith my body I thee worship…”
Wait! With my body I thee WHAT?!
Death, Deceit & Some Smooth Jazz Page 23
