Dream Girl Awakened

by Stacy Campbell

  “Would you please just stop for a minute, so we can talk.” Aruba’s eyes pleaded with Victoria.

  Victoria turned to face Aruba. “What’s there to talk about? You won Winston fair and square. Would you please move, so I can leave?”

  “I thought you were unhappy with him. All you ever did was complain about him, make light of his work, his accomplishments, his provisions. I just thought . . .”

  “You ‘just thought’ what? That venting to someone I thought was a friend gave you license to slide on in and move me out of the way? How many other friends’ husbands have you made a move on?”

  “Victoria, I have never done anything like this before in my life.”

  Victoria applauded. “How lucky am I to have been the first backstabbing you’ve carried out. You’re pretty damn good. I’m sure you can hone the craft with other men.”

  Aruba touched Victoria’s arm. “Just let me ex—”

  Victoria snatched her arm from Aruba’s grasp. “Don’t touch me! Don’t ever touch me, come near me, or my child ever again! I’m trying to keep my cool, but you’re testing my patience. Get away from me, so I can leave.” Neither saw the security guard approach, or Bria, holding Aruba’s purse, or Maxie, shame etching her face.

  “Is everything all right here?” asked the muscular young man.

  “Things will be fine if she moves out of my way, so I can leave,” Victoria said to the man.

  Aruba stepped aside so that Victoria could enter her car. She gave Aruba one last cryptic look before slamming her door. She backed out of her parking space, eyes straight ahead.

  “Is it true? Please tell me it isn’t true,” said Bria.

  Aruba’s silence confirmed Bria’s fears. Aruba sought an explanation, something to say to her friend, but she couldn’t. Aruba’s phone message indicator startled the three of them. She flipped open her phone and read James’s text message.

  WHERE ARE YOU? WE STILL NEED TO TALK.

  “I’m sorry, Bria. I’m sorry, Maxie. I . . . I have to go. I have to get this over with James.”

  “Before you go, baby, tell me why? How could you do something like this?”

  “You know I’ve been unhappy with James for so long.”

  “You had other options, honey.”

  “What about Mom and Dad? She’s stuck by his side all these years. Remember Ms. Sheila?”

  “Honey, I don’t like secrets. Darling, Sheila confided in your father that your mother was cheating. She always had something tricky going on behind your father’s back. He stayed with her because he loves her. I brag on my son-in-law because he’s been good to your mother. She doesn’t deserve such a good man. Nothing is as it seems, Aruba. I was hoping you’d turn out different. You’ll see that when you get with this new man. I’m not saying you should stay with James, but I fear you’ve opened yourself up for a world of hurt.”

  “I’m going to see what James wants, Maxie.”

  [38]

  Have a Little Faith

  Winston had called for the fifth time. Aruba couldn’t bring herself to answer his call. Not after the fiasco, not after the embarrassment. What was there to say? Hi, it’s your loving homewrecker! What’s new, lover? If only Victoria had let her explain that they hadn’t slept together, that they weren’t officially lovers. That her judgment was clouded due to the problems she experienced with James. Aruba’s mind raced, her heart pounded. She was so absorbed in thought that she almost missed her stop. She gazed at the building sideways, thinking maybe she’d gotten the address wrong. She eyed the paper again. 420 N. Illinois Street. She was about to pull away when she noticed their Pilot two cars ahead. She eased out of her company vehicle and approached the front door with suspicion. She knocked twice, afraid of what monkey business James had orchestrated. The good thing about tonight was that she could end their marriage.

  “So what took you so long?” asked James as he opened the door, a wide smile on his face.

  Aruba froze. She was speechless. Her first impulse was to touch James’s hair. The man before her resembled the adolescent in stellar photos lining the walls of his parents’ mantel. Gone were his well-oiled dreads that cascaded down his back, making women swoon. She adored the mop of curls framing his handsome face. Is this my husband? “James, what are you doing here? Why did you cut your hair?” Before the shock of his Samson transformation could sink in, she noticed the suit and tie hanging from his well-chiseled frame. She melted as she took in the smell of the cologne he wore.

  “Come in, Mrs. Dixon. I don’t have all night. I have a marriage to save.”

  The smooth sounds of Maxwell ushered her into a candlelit atmosphere. A table draped in white linen sat in the middle of the floor. Although the room was dim, she could tell that decorative, funky designs lined the walls. She also smelled James’s signature steak, vegetable stir fry, and parsley potatoes. He handed her a single rose.

  “Would you like dinner now, or after our chitchat?”

  “James, we have a lot to talk about.”

  “I agree. Will you hear me out tonight?”

  “Yes. I’ll listen.”

  James escorted her to the table, pulled her seat out, and waited until she was comfortable. He’d taken care to set the table as she liked it. She noticed the wine chilling in the golden ice bucket.

  “I miss you, Aruba. I miss Jerry. I miss us. I know I’ve messed up a lot in the past. You’ve put up with a lot of my shit over the years and I don’t see how you’ve done it. A lesser woman would have left me years ago. I didn’t think you were serious about leaving me until you moved out and I got served.”

  “James.”

  “You said you’d listen.”

  “I promised you a lot in the beginning and I haven’t made good on those promises. I’ve really been trying though, baby. That’s why I called you here tonight.”

  James slid her birthday gifts toward her. She hoped this wouldn’t be déjà vu. The last thing she needed was another surprise like the one Victoria had given her.

  “Why are you trembling, baby?”

  Aruba shrugged her shoulders. If only he’d said those words a year ago. Or even six months ago. For the first time since their journey had begun, she felt his sincerity, his love.

  She opened the first gift and gasped with delight. “James. The ladybug. You remembered after all these years?”

  “How could I forget? I’ve never seen a woman so excited over a pin. Most women ask for a ring upgrade, but you always admired that ladybug. I hope you like it.”

  Aruba stopped short of asking how he had paid for the pendant. His thoughtfulness had floored her, filled her with more guilt.

  He slid the envelope her way. “This is for you, too.”

  Aruba opened the envelope, then did a double-take. She looked at James. “I guess I’m not sure I get this one.”

  “That’s the lease to this building. Our building. You’re sitting inside Dixon’s Hair Affair, Aruba. I own this shop.”

  “James, stop. How? When?”

  “Close your mouth,” James said. “I got a few investors behind me. Worked on the business plan you and I started together. When you left, I temped at Franzen Industrial Staffing. I don’t believe in coincidences, you know. I met Katrina Benford, Isaak Benford’s wife.”

  “The developer?”

  “The one and only. Her cousin owns Divas in Training. The same lead you gave me last year. One thing led to another, and we hooked up. They’ve really helped me get myself on track. I was temping during the day and doing hair in our basement at night and on the weekends. Before you even ask, Victoria stopped by one day while I was doing our neighbor Paris’s hair. I think she thought I had something going on.”

  “Yeah, she mentioned it. I didn’t know what to think. James, I’m so proud of you. I knew you could do it.”

  “We did it. It took you leaving me to recognize what a good wife I have. I don’t want a divorce. Can we try to work things out? I don’t expect you to come run
ning back into my arms like nothing happened. Will you give us one more chance?”

  “James.”

  “You told me to walk the walk and not talk the talk. That’s what I’m trying to do now.”

  Aruba sighed. Tonight cemented the uneasiness she felt about being with Winston. How could she be with him and have an honest relationship? She looked at James, really saw his genuineness, his desire to please her. She couldn’t deny that she still loved him. He was the only man she’d ever loved. How could she start anew with all she’d done? She took his hands into hers and smiled.

  “You haven’t mentioned it, but I’m sorry I hit you. I will go to anger management if necessary, but I promise I’ll never put my hands on you again. There’s no excuse for me touching you.”

  The words “I still love you” danced on the tip of her tongue. She wanted to believe James, to imagine they could start anew. She looked deep into his eyes. She ran her fingers through his hair and formed the words “I’ll try” just as a brick sailed past her, the storefront glass drowning out Maxwell.

  Tawatha wasted no time disturbing the tranquil atmosphere. Aruba recognized her from the party, wondered why she was there.

  “Oh, so this is loving me, James?”

  “Tawatha, what is wrong with you? I know damn well you didn’t crash this glass and walk in my business like you’ve lost your mind!”

  Seeing James caused a new wave of emotions to flood Tawatha’s senses. She looked at James and repeated the words he spoke during their time alone. “My wife doesn’t appreciate me, Tawatha.” “I want to be with you, Tawatha.” “My wife has cancer, Tawatha.” She yelled, “She doesn’t even want you, James! She’s seeing someone else!”

  “James, who is this and why is she here?”

  Tawatha stepped in Aruba’s face, the Pink Panties bolstering her confidence. “I am the woman your husband has been sleeping with the past year. I am the woman who has been in your house, held your son, and would be sitting here with James if you would leave him alone.”

  James, nervous with Aruba’s nonplussed stance, stood between the women. “Tawatha, I told you I don’t want you. I love my wife, and I want to keep my family together.”

  “I’m not leaving until you tell her everything about us.”

  “There’s nothing to tell. I made a stupid mistake sleeping with you and I regret it. I never told you I loved you, I never promised you anything. Don’t you get it? I don’t want to be with you!”

  “While you’ve been lying to me, pretending Miss America here has cancer, she’s been creeping with her friend Victoria’s husband.”

  “I know that’s a lie because Winston fronted me the funds for my business. No way would he be that kind of snake.”

  Aruba tried to process the information she’d been given. She couldn’t imagine James being courageous enough to approach Winston for anything. Yet, they stood in a space a few days away from a magnificent grand opening. She refused to acknowledge Tawatha. She had to be the one to tell James about Winston. There was no turning back now. He had to hear the truth from her point of view.

  “Tawatha, I know you hear the sirens nearing. You’ve set off the alarm system with all this high drama. My husband asked you to leave, so I suggest you exit the premises before you’re arrested.”

  “Fine! To hell with both of you! You’re a match made in hell. Playing games with people’s feelings.”

  “Tawatha, just go. Please,” said James.

  “If you call me again . . .” Tawatha paused. She clutched her stomach, tried to hold the vomit rising to her throat. She ran out the front door of the shop, humiliated once again. She threw up on the corner of Illinois and St. Clair. She needed familiarity, something to calm her nerves. She jumped in Lasheera’s car and sped away, cursing at her miserable luck.

  Inside, James paced back and forth. He finally got the nerve to address Aruba. “Do I want to know what she’s talking about?”

  “Do I want to know why you were with her?” She shook her head. “At least I know who Miss T. is.”

  James leaned against the wall, then dropped to the floor. “How long have you been seeing Winston?”

  “Probably as long as you’ve been seeing Tawatha.”

  “Did you sleep with him?”

  “No, James. I can honestly say I haven’t. Of course, you can’t say the same thing about Tawatha.”

  “Did I hurt you that much that you had to turn to him? Hell, any other man for that matter.”

  “Yes, you did.”

  “Do you love him?”

  “I don’t know that I’d call it love. Fondness. Admiration, perhaps.”

  “Translation, money. Right?”

  “No. It’s not just that. Listen, I’m so confused right now, I don’t know what to do or say. I want you to know how proud I am of you, James. Standing here takes me back to the beginning of our marriage. You’re exhibiting what I knew you could do all along. I just hate that it took so long for this to happen.”

  James thought back on his mother’s mandate. It takes two people to make a marriage go bad.

  “Aruba, I love you. For the sake of our son and our vows, please, let’s start over again. Let’s leave the past behind us and start fresh. I know I’ve let you down in the past and I’ve hurt you, but I can’t lose you. I don’t want to be without you.”

  “James, let me think about it.”

  “Take all the time you need. I’m not going anywhere.”

  James scanned his hard work, his effort. He estimated the window repair would be at least twelve hundred dollars. A small price to pay for the mess I’ve made.

  [39]

  Wit’s End

  Tawatha staggered in the house as Aunjanue read to S’n’c’r’ty on the sofa. She kicked off her shoes at the front door, neglecting to place them on the shoe rack. She didn’t care about order tonight. The most important thing was getting James out of her system. What would it take for her to find someone that would be hers exclusively? She couldn’t stomach pursuing another man. Not after all the pain she’d endured.

  “Momma, are you okay?” asked Aunjanue. “You look like you’ve been crying.”

  “What’s it to you? Can’t I cry or be down without the four of you in my business?” Tawatha snapped.

  “I was just concerned.” Aunjanue paused. “I . . . I wanted to know if I could still go to Tarsha’s for the sleepover tonight. She’s a few doors down and I’m close enough to come back home if you need me.”

  “I wanna come,” S’n’c’r’ty piped in.

  “It’s a big girl party, remember?”

  “Onnie, you’re always leaving me!”

  “I’ll be back Sunday. We’ll play Connect Four when I come back.”

  “You promise?”

  “Yes, I promise. Now let me pack the rest of my things.”

  “Mind your manners at the Mosleys’ house,” Tawatha said. She tried to hide the irritation in her voice, but the night’s events made it hard.

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  Aunjanue headed to her room, grateful that tonight would be one spent away from babysitting, cooking, and cleaning. She didn’t mind helping out with her siblings, but she felt Tawatha was taking her presence for granted more and more. She could count on both hands and feet the number of girls at school who experimented with sex, talked back to their parents, or had been sent to alternative schools throughout the city because they’d gotten pregnant. Where was her reward for being diligent, for forgoing the things girls her age did? She wasn’t sure how to broach the subject with Tawatha, but when she returned on Sunday, she would ask Tawatha about the possibility of having a closer relationship with her biological father. Was he married now? Did he have other children?

  Spending time at the Mosleys’ home had begun taking its toll on her psyche.

  Tarsha’s father, Jayson, came home like clockwork from his job at Merck each night. Aunjanue witnessed him walk through the door, give Tarsha’s mother a kiss, ask her
about her day, and sit down to dinner all ready on the table for him. Sometimes their conversations were about the news or other mundane details; other times he rooted for his wife in regard to her decorating business. Aunjanue had always heard marriage wasn’t easy, but theirs was the one union that made her reconsider her stance to never jump the broom. At least that’s what they were doing on a photo in the living room.

  Aunjanue rifled through her closet in preparation for the weekend. The Mosleys had planned a packed weekend for her, Tarsha, Johanna Patino, Jennifer Wilson, and Carmen Lawrence. Their reward for having all A’s on their report cards was a slumber party, breakfast at LePeep on Saturday morning followed by full spa services at Divas in Training. Mrs. Mosley planned a backyard barbecue after the spa visit. The weekend would end with church on Sunday and a visit later that evening to Caribbean Cove. The most Tawatha gave Aunjanue for getting good grades was a weak “I’m proud of you, baby” or “Keep up the good work.”

  Aunjanue was smitten by the Mosleys; they were her first couple crush. She looked at them and wondered if her brothers and sister would be happier, have more opportunities if they had a man like Jayson around. She even loved Jayson’s corny sayings. Like the time he put a spin on a familiar phrase by saying, “When life gives you eggs, you’d better make a darn good omelet. Just make sure the chickens are free range, though.”

  S’n’c’r’ty sat on the bed as Aunjanue packed her clothes.

  “What are you doing in here, lil’ bit?”

  “I came to help you pack. Plus, Momma’s got a funky attitude. What’s she crying about?”

  Aunjanue packed jeans and two blouses in her suitcase. “I don’t know. Just stay out of her way while I’m gone, okay.”

  “Can I help you pack?”

  “May I help you pack? I know you remember that.”

  “May I help you?”