Dream Girl Awakened

by Stacy Campbell

  James stood to shake Winston’s hand. Isaak’s words crept up as he fought to contain his excitement: “Premature excitement is worse than failure because it shows others you have no control over your emotions.”

  “If you back me, you won’t be sorry, Winston. I just ask that you don’t share the news with Victoria. I fear that if she knows, Aruba will know.”

  “Your secret is safe with me. Trust me.”

  [33]

  Let’s Get This Party Started

  FROM: Bria Hines

  TO: Lasheera Atkins

  CC: Aruba Dixon

  SUBJECT: Office Assistance

  Lasheera:

  I have an enormous mail-out that has to be completed by noon. Please come to my office ASAP to help me complete this task.

  Bria

  Lasheera’s eyes were crossed from the stack of documents she’d edited for Aruba, so a mailing would be a welcomed change. Bria rarely asked for help, so the mailing had to be important. Grateful that Bria had cc’d Aruba on the email, Lasheera felt relieved she didn’t have to rush back for anything since Aruba would know her whereabouts.

  Bria greeted Lasheera at her office door, ushering her in with a sense of immediacy. Bria locked the door. “Have a seat at the roundtable.”

  “Do I need to make copies of anything? Also, will everything be collated and stapled, or are the documents singles?”

  “Do you see any paper around here, Lasheera?”

  Lasheera looked around, puzzled by the blank table. “No. I want to know what to get, so we can get started.”

  “I knew you’d be perfect in helping me. If anyone can keep a tight lid on things, it’s you.”

  “A tight lid?”

  “For Aruba’s birthday party. I’m planning a surprise party for her at Bella Vita’s. Her birthday is in three months and I want to get a jumpstart on the festivities. She is the last person on earth you can fool with a surprise party. She is the hostess with the mostess, and it’s hard getting over on her. This year’s gonna be different, though. That’s why I pulled you in to help with the gag. Trust me, it will be a classy soiree; she just won’t know about it.”

  “What do you need me to do?”

  “We’ll start with the guest list and theme today.”

  “Wow . . . a theme? I can’t wait.”

  “We’re having a dream girl party.”

  “Dream girl? Are you talking Motown, bouffant hairdos, and sequins? I can’t hold a tune in a bucket, so I hope we don’t have to sing.”

  “Heavens no. You would probably be surprised to know it’s an idea from our childhood.”

  “You grew up together?”

  “Georgia peaches. We were raised in Harlem ’til I moved to Atlanta, but I always visited during the summers. You mean to tell me you never had any Southern relatives you hung out with during the summer months?”

  “No. There seemed to be tension between my mom and her siblings in Mississippi. I do have a goal of fellowshipping with them soon.”

  “When we were twelve, Aruba’s aunt, Alita Ruth, came up with the dream girl concept. Our neighbor, Hermilla Jones, got a wild hair up her butt and abandoned her daughter, Maria. Never mind that it was Maria’s twelfth birthday, or that Hermilla’s mother had suffered a stroke in the wee hours of that morning. Something snapped inside her. Perhaps it was being Leotis’s wife, perhaps it was not fulfilling whatever she wanted in life, but Alita was out in her yard planting those azaleas and hollyhocks when Hermilla rambled out of her house with a suitcase in her hand. Alita Ruth yelled out to Hermilla for a progress report on her mom, but Hermilla kept stepping until she was out of Alita’s sight.

  “That’s when Maria came out on the porch, plopped down in a ruby red glider, and turned up the volume on her portable CD player, her birthday gift from Hermilla. She sat there rocking back and forth a while, holding back tears, wondering if anyone saw her. The South is the South, so news of Hermilla’s departure spread like wildfire. The girls on the street thought they would shun Maria, but Alita Ruth wasn’t having it. In two hours, she planned a party at her house for Maria, threatening all the girls on the street with death if they didn’t attend. All the girls had to bring Maria one gift-wrapped item along with a colorful card Alita made. On the card was your dream. Some of the girls wanted to be nurses, doctors, lawyers, entrepreneurs; others had less lofty dreams like planting a beautiful garden, making straight A’s the next school term, or marrying and having a good family. Alita Ruth told us whenever we felt doubt, hold on to those cards as a reminder that a dream lived inside us.”

  “Do you mean Maria Jones, the movie producer?”

  “The one and only. I was there when she wrote ‘Hollywood movie producer’ on that card. Aruba and I flew out to L.A. to see her two years ago, and she still had that card. She laminated it her junior year of high school.”

  “That’s why the industry calls her the ‘female Walt Disney.’ Most of her movies and HBO specials feature a mother abandoning a child.”

  “I wouldn’t go that far. The community really enveloped her with love and support after Hermilla left.”

  “What happened to Hermilla?”

  “VA Hospital in Augusta, Georgia. Maria visits her whenever time permits.”

  Lasheera took in the concept. She couldn’t remember a time when lots of people were part of her life. Tawatha and Jamilah were her aces. She feared having lots of folks in her circle until her pastor said one day, “If you’re the smartest person in your circle, your circle is too small.” Aruba and Bria seemed to know fascinating people as evidenced by the guest list.

  “That’s a long guest list.”

  “I know, right?”

  “Who are all these folks?”

  “Quiet as it’s kept, Aruba is very popular. She downplays it, but she has touched the lives of many people and they aren’t ashamed to show their appreciation. Before she got married, she was always volunteering. She’s also an anonymous donor to people and causes. I can assure you that list ranges from CEOs to welfare recipients.”

  “I know she’s been good to me since I’ve been working here. I bet every aspect of her life is perfect.”

  “No one is perfect, Lasheera. You take what you’re given and make the best of it. The people who appear perfect are probably those people who are working hard at making the best of what they’ve got. I won’t address the pretenders, just the genuine people.”

  “Your husband, Sidney, seems like a good man. I see him in and out of here taking you to lunch and bringing you flowers.”

  “I am blessed. I have a good husband and a good relationship. Again, we work at it. There’s no other man on the planet I’d want to share my time, space, and love with other than Sidney.”

  “I’d love to get there someday. It seems like too much work, though.”

  “Don’t rush it. You’ll know when the time is right and when the man is right.”

  “I am taking it slow with my new boyfriend. This is the first time I’ve actually dated someone. I’m used to jumping in and asking questions later.”

  “Aren’t you glad you’ve grown?”

  “I credit my spiritual growth to the change. I’m not there yet, but one day at a time feels better than flying by the seat of my pants.”

  Lasheera refocused her attention on the guest list. “What do you need me to do first?”

  “I printed out mailing labels at home. Grab those out of my bag and place stamps on the envelopes. I set up a special phone line for the RSVPs. I’ll keep you posted as the guests call in. I’m still narrowing down the menu, but Sidney has agreed to buy the first round of drinks for everyone.”

  “What about these?” Lasheera held up a clear plastic case of blank, multicolored cards.

  “Can’t send an invite out without those. Those are the cards women will write their dreams on. I’m hoping some of the older guests will join in the fun. Particularly the more successful ones. It’s never too late to foster new dreams.”


  “I know that’s right!”

  Lasheera busied herself stuffing envelopes, checking names off the list, and anticipating how exciting the evening would be. She was surprised to see her name listed.

  “I’m invited, too?”

  “Lasheera, you know you’re Aruba’s right-hand girl. She would crucify me if you didn’t come.”

  Lasheera’s cheeks reddened. It had been a long time since she’d felt so special.

  “May I ask a favor, Bria?”

  “Sure.”

  “Would it be too much trouble if we could add one more name to the list?”

  “I don’t see why not. Sidney’s budgeted for at least ten more people. It’s always good to have someone new in the mix.”

  “Perfect. My girlfriend Tawatha will enjoy this party so much. It would be just the thing to get her out of the house and away from her job.”

  [34]

  I Am Changing

  “Daddy, when are you coming home?”

  “Princess, I see you every day.”

  “I know, but you’re not in the house when I get up to pee at night. You disappear after you tuck me in.”

  “Pee?”

  “I mean tinkle,” said Nicolette. She muffled her grin with her hands, embarrassed she’d used one of the words from her forbidden list.

  Victoria waited for Winston’s response to Nicolette’s revelation.

  “You know I’m busy and have lots of patients to take care of.”

  “Too busy to be home with us?”

  “What did I tell you about sacrifice?”

  “You said that in order for people to accomplish goals, they have to work hard and do things they don’t always want to do.”

  “That’s part of what I said. I didn’t know you listened to me.”

  “I listen to everything you say, Daddy. And I watch everything you do. I want to be just like you when I grow up.”

  Winston eyed Nicolette in the rearview mirror. He didn’t know whether to be repulsed or excited about the changes he saw. Nicolette’s crooked ponytail sat too high with bows that didn’t match. Victoria attempted to plait Nicolette’s hair, but she was unsuccessful as the top part of the plait was loose, the bottom, tight. Nicolette’s outfit matched, but her patent leather Mary Janes were more appropriate for church, not a family outing in Brown County. Much to his dismay, Victoria had given Alva the month off and a round-trip ticket to visit her children in Antigua. She wore him down with calls and visits to his office about reconciling. A flash of guilt overwhelmed him when he thought of his wife at Aruba’s house, pleading for assistance, expressing her love for him. Since that visit, she’d begun to cook, attempt to clean, take care of Nicolette, and beg for a chance to make things right. He couldn’t say no to her invitation to Brown County, even though he knew how the trip would turn out. She’d beg for them to stay together; he’d turn her down. He didn’t want to jump into a new marriage, but he wanted to explore life with Aruba. He’d muster the courage to tell Victoria on Sunday before driving home.

  “Daddy, did you hear me?” Nicolette whirled the ponytail around her fingers.

  “What did you say, princess?”

  “Mommy said you don’t love her anymore. That’s what I heard her say on the phone.”

  “That’s not true. I love your mommy very much.”

  “You’re not getting a divorce, are you?”

  “Where did you hear that word?”

  “Paige Miller. She said her daddy got arrested for ’bezzlement and her mom filed for divorce because she couldn’t pay for the things they had.”

  “Honey, that’s embezzlement.” Winston turned to Victoria. “Jonathon Miller was arrested for embezzlement?”

  “It’s been all over the news. You didn’t know that? Perhaps you should watch the news where you’re spending your time.” Victoria bit her tongue, swallowing blood. She’d promised herself she’d monitor her words. What she said and how she said it. Winston’s absence made her realize how toxic, critical, and fault-finding her words were. Enough to keep any man away. She tried again. “What I meant to say was it’s been sad around the neighborhood with divorces running rampant.”

  “Are you gonna marry another woman? I don’t want a new mommy or a new daddy. I want you to come home and stay with us.”

  “Nicolette, sweetie, you’re talking too much grown-up talk,” said Victoria.

  Winston nodded in agreement. He couldn’t remember the last time they’d seen eye to eye on anything. He looked at Nicolette again. Her face registered concern at the thought of her parents divorcing. For the first time since becoming involved with Aruba, he felt the weight of his deception. He didn’t have an ideal marriage, but Victoria’s efforts of late seemed genuine. Disengaging himself would alienate her more, and he didn’t want to do that this weekend.

  “Don’t miss the turn, Winston.” Victoria folded and unfolded her arms. Her nerves got the best of her when she felt helpless. It took so much convincing to get Winston out of his office and into the scenic cabin they owned. The weekend would be the new start they needed. She wanted Winston to try as well.

  “The place looks gorgeous, Victoria. I didn’t expect the landscaping to be so pristine.”

  “Mr. Shoals does a great job at keeping things together.” We pay him enough stayed glued inside her mouth. She’d worked hard the last month in adhering to her tongue fast.

  “I’ll grab our bags and bring them in.” Winston looked in on Nicolette. “Princess is out like a light. I’ll tuck her in after I take everything upstairs.”

  “Thanks, sweetheart. I truly appreciate it.”

  Winston stopped in his tracks. Was he imagining things, or did Victoria just thank him for something other than money? “What did you say?”

  “I said thank you. I appreciate everything about you. Not just the things you give us, but you.”

  “You’re welcome.”

  Winston carried the bags inside, partially confused, partially gleeful. Those words meant so much to him. As much as he’d given credence to the thought of divorce, the woman who’d just paid him a compliment resembled the Victoria he’d fallen in love with in California. Her words weren’t empty. The glint in her eyes, the broad smile, and her look of admiration deepened his regrets. What the hell am I doing? I know what I’m doing is wrong and I need to stop. When he lifted Nicolette from her booster seat, he realized how good it felt to have a daughter who thought he hung the moon. How would she view him if he walked away? He visualized Nicolette in her early twenties, pouring her heart out to some slickster about how devastated she was growing up without a father. He shooed the image away as he put her in bed upstairs, then rejoined Victoria downstairs by the fireplace.

  “Shoals started this blazing fire as well. Isn’t it cozy?”

  “Yes. I love the fact it looks like someone lives here all the time. I’m so glad we didn’t sell the property. It was a good investment.”

  “I realize that, Winston. I also realize there are lots of other good things about us. Are you okay with having this discussion now?”

  “Now’s the best time since Nicolette’s asleep.”

  Victoria snuggled closer to Winston. “I apologize for allowing Nicolette to hear my conversation with Aruba. I’ve been a wreck since you moved out. I miss you and I want you to come home.”

  “I don’t know if I’m ready for that now.”

  “Are you seeing someone else?”

  Winston’s silence lasted fifteen seconds. “No, I’m not seeing anyone. I don’t want to come home to the same thing I left.”

  “I’m changing. Can’t you see I’m putting forth effort to make things better? I’m willing to do what it takes to make this work.”

  “How do I know this isn’t a temporary fix?”

  “There’s nothing more important to me than restoring our marriage. You have every right to be skeptical. I’ve messed up over the years. I stopped being your wife, your friend, your lover. I want to be those t
hings again.”

  “You really are being sincere, aren’t you?”

  “Do you know how inadequate I feel as your wife?”

  “Inadequate?”

  “Whenever we’re at functions, parties, and socials, there are at least twelve women there a hundred times more accomplished than I’ll ever be.”

  “That depends on how you measure accomplishment. Do I meet beautiful, intelligent, driven women? Every day. But I chose you. I wanted to spend my life with you.”

  “Wanted?”

  Winston nodded his consent for Victoria to continue.

  “I try to stay abreast of current events, but there’s someone at those functions who outtalks me or makes me remember what I don’t have.”

  “What are you lacking?”

  “An advanced degree. A job. All I do is volunteer and shop.”

  “Baby, those are choices you made. I’ve always encouraged you to go back to school, to broaden your horizons.”

  “Sit there and tell me you don’t think less of me because I’m not Dr. Victoria Faulk.”

  “Never. If you’d followed our plan we devised from the start of our union, we wouldn’t be where we are today.”

  “I thought you’d change your mind.”

  “Are you kidding me?”

  “I thought you only said you wanted me to stay home to control me.”

  “Victoria, how many times do I have to tell you—”

  “Your parents’ union was a competition, not a marriage,” said Victoria. She hadn’t finished his sentence that way since the good old days.

  “Mom felt she had so much to prove to my grandparents that it cost my father’s affection for her. They’d picked out the perfect mate for dad, but he loved my mom’s desire to transcend the image my grandparents had of her. She was too dark, too thick, and too Southern. Dad wanted a homemaker, not a competitor. That’s why I’ve worked so hard all this time to provide the kind of living that would give you the choice of working or staying home. I don’t mind Alva being around, but I’d rather have a home-cooked meal from you. Or a foot massage followed by genuine concern about my day. I want the Victoria I married.”