Frost on My Window

by Angela Weaver

  “Right, of course. Speaking of demand,” Tom cleared his throat, “I’ve gotten a lot of questions about whether or not you might be in a position to get Exile or Sean Andrews to meet with us, maybe do some business. Rick mentioned this morning that our top automotive client would pay through the nose to get the band to sign an endorsement contract. Hell, they’d be just as happy with a commercial or a voiceover.”

  I felt like beating my head against the wall. Tom wasn’t the first and he wouldn’t be the last. “Look, Tom…” I started.

  “If you could just mention this to Mr. Andrews or his manager…” he interrupted.

  I watched as he jumped up out of his seat when his cell phone rang. “Just think about it, okay? You’ve got my home and cell number, feel free to call me anytime.”

  After lunch, I leaned back in my chair and closed my eyes, feeling the beginning of fatigue.

  “How could you have just sat there while I poured my heart out?” came a woman’s voice.

  “What?” I opened my eyes to see Fran in the doorway. I hadn’t had a chance to talk with her since the afternoon she had broken down in my office.

  I turned from the computer screen and stood up slowly. “Why don’t you close the door and tell me what’s up?” I asked.

  Fran strode over to my desk and contemptuously tossed a copy of a national tabloid down.

  “It must have been funny for you to listen to me talk about my man while you’re shacking up with Mr. Rock Star.”

  “Wait a minute. What do I have to do with this?” I asked, confused.

  “You’re such a hypocrite, telling me that I should just let him go,” she waved her hand. “I should have known you were a sell-out. Got your nice title, corner office, so you have to go out and get a white man.”

  I felt as though I had been slapped by the venom in her voice.

  Fran continued, “Yeah, my man wasn’t perfect, but he was a black man trying to make it in a white world and I should have helped him in the struggle.”

  “Fran.” I said her name in a low, stern voice. Inhaling deeply, I released my breath slowly. “My personal life and who I date or do not date is, first of all, none of your business. Second, I didn’t tell you that you should give up on the man. Hell, I didn’t give you any advice at all because I didn’t know what to say.”

  “With good reason,” she shot back, taking a seat in the chair. “Here you are having a secret affair with a man that doesn’t even acknowledge you. Are you that far gone?”

  “Far gone?” I demanded. “What are you talking about?”

  “The man kept you in the closet, honey. He’s fronting in public with his blue-eyed, blonde-haired girlfriend and keeping you on the side.”

  “Wrong.” I shook my head. “That was my choice. My relationship with Sean Andrews is nobody’s business.”

  “Not anymore,” she said, looking pointedly at the front-page picture of Sean and me on horseback.

  “Look, Fran,” I sighed, trying not to go on the defensive. “I have never been, and will never be, a sell-out. To be honest, I’m offended that you even put that out there. I love my job and I’m respectful and friendly with all my teammates. Now I’m very comfortable with my blackness and with myself.”

  I saw the anger drain from her eyes as I continued. “If I remember correctly, what I told you when you were crying in that very chair was that you should take some time to discover who you are and what you want before making hasty decisions.”

  “And I took that advice. I went home and I let him leave.”

  “You want to blame me for his leaving you?” I asked.

  “No,” she admitted reluctantly.

  “Then what is it? We’ve been cool since day one and I’m hurt that you would come in here and drop this stuff at my feet.”

  “I thought…” she started and stopped.

  “Come on with the truth. I’ve about had it with people looking at me like I just stepped off the moon.” I wanted to hear it. Ever since Bahni and the others rocked my world with the photo of Sean and me together, every person of color in the office had stopped speaking when I walked into a room or went to get water.

  “Let me break this down for you, Leah. We don’t like it.”

  “We don’t like what?” I repeated.

  “Ever since it came out that you’re dating that singer, every senior manager in this place has planted their lips on your rear end.”

  “So this is about office politics?”

  “No. It’s about you dating a white man. There are plenty of single black men out there and you went out of the house and got yourself a white man.”

  “And that bothers you?”

  “Yes, it does.” She crossed her legs and looked straight at me.

  I sat down in my chair and picked up a pen. For a moment there was only the hiss of the air conditioner.

  “I think I expected this from black men, but I didn’t think I’d hear it coming from you.”

  “Because I’m black?” Fran answered.

  “No, because you’re a woman and you’ve seen the good and the bad of a relationship,” I stated.

  “With Black men,” she said pointedly.

  I shook my head. “I really don’t have to justify my relationship.”

  “No, you don’t,” she agreed. “But I just thought I’d clear the air.”

  “I appreciate that, and I know where you’re coming from. When I was in college seeing a black man with a white woman twisted my stomach. But no matter how I felt, I respected his decision. Life in California was different, good and bad. I care more for me now.”

  “And the fact that he kept your relationship on the D.L. doesn’t bother you?”

  “Sean has never kept me on the down low. I made that decision. I like to keep my personal life private, and he went along with it.” My voice softened at the mention of Sean’s name.

  “How can you take it? The competition. All those women. White women,” she emphasized.

  I shook my head. “If I had a nickel for every time I compared myself to white woman I’d be richer than Oprah.”

  “Oh, Lord yes!” She laughed and then sobered up. “You’re in love with him, aren’t you?”

  “Yes, I am,” I admitted out loud for the first time.

  She sighed, “I’m sorry, Leah. I shouldn’t have come at you like that.”

  “Just don’t make a habit of it,” I answered back.

  “Thank you.”

  “No problem.”

  “I’ll talk to the other guys, but they’re pretty pissed.”

  I stood up and we gave each other hugs. “That’s okay. I seem to have a natural tendency to piss off people with small minds.” I laughed. When Fran joined in I knew that everything between us would be okay, but the rest? I didn’t have a clue.

  After she left, I looked down at the collection of hastily shot pictures of Sean and me leaving the airport. My hair was a mess and he was smiling even as I glared at him. I sat down and sighed. It wasn’t as though I was in the paper for committing a gruesome crime or doing some heroic deed. My life was under public scrutiny because I was dating a superstar, and that, more than the attention paid to our interracial relationship, was what bothered me the most.

  * * *

  The incessant sound of tapping roused me from my light doze. Lines of sunlight formed random designs on the walls and floor. I glanced at the clock and then rolled out of bed at the sound of knocking. Running a hand through my hair I walked to the front door, unlocked and opened it, not bothering to first take a look thru the peek hole.

  “About time you opened the door! I was about to call your landlady.”

  My eyes widened and my mouth dropped open. “Mom…Pop. What are you doing here?” My parents stood in the hallway glaring at me.

  “I don’t know why your father’s here,” Mom answered, walking through the doorway. “But after listening to dozens of messages from your brother, church members, and friends, letting me know that my
girls have been in every newspaper from here to China, I’m here to straighten this mess out.”

  “Mom…Pop,” came Rena’s sleep-laden voice from the back. Mom rushed past me and enveloped Rena in a big hug while Pop walked in and shut the door, then pulled me into his arms. I shook my head and felt tears well up behind my eyes. The light scent of sweet tobacco filled my nose. “What’s wrong, baby?” he asked.

  Feeling like a dam had burst, I started pouring everything out. “I don’t know, Pop. I’m a mess. Lance’s got a baby, Rena fell apart, I was in the National Enquirer, and I’m not sure what’s happening anymore.”

  Pop pulled away and I looked up as he stared down at me. “You listening to me?”

  I nodded my head.

  “It’s gonna be all right, you hear?” Pop said reassuringly.

  I hugged him closer. “I’m so happy you’re back. You and Mom can’t go on vacation again.”

  “I heard that. How did the two of you survive by yourselves in California?” Mom asked in an exasperated voice. “We leave you for three weeks and all hell breaks loose. Look at the two of you. Clothes all wrinkled like you been sleeping in them. Both of you look like you haven’t had a good meal in months. I want the two of you to pack your bags. You’re coming back home with us until this mess blows over.”

  “Mom,” I started, and stopped as her eyes narrowed. I looked over at Pop in desperation.

  “Leah, it’s real nice outside. Why don’t you and your mom go for a walk?” Pop suggested.

  “That sounds like a good idea,” Mom agreed and started for the door. I followed dutifully behind.

  “But…” I protested.

  “Leah, I want you to take your behind into the bathroom, get cleaned up, and go outside with your mother,” Pop said in no uncertain terms.

  Knowing that I would never be too old for my father to spank, I grabbed some clothes out of my bedroom, took a quick shower, brushed my teeth, tamed my hair, and got dressed.

  Less than an hour later after my parents had settled their bags in Rena’s bedroom, Mom and I went outside. As soon as we got to the sidewalk, Mom started asking questions, “Now why didn’t you tell me that you were involved with that rock star?”

  “We were just friends.” I shrugged.

  “From what I saw on the cover of those gossip magazines, it looked like more than friendship to me. But that’s beside the point. Now…”

  I interrupted and got straight to the heart of what was bothering me. “Mom, you’ve seen the pictures. Does it bother you, Sean being…”

  “What?” she interrupted. “Handsome, rich, famous?”

  “Non-African American.”

  “White,” she corrected.

  “Yes.”

  She gave me a hard stare. “You know I raised you to be open-minded.”

  “You also raised me with the idea that Prince Charming looked exactly like Billy Dee Williams.”

  She shook her head. “I won’t lie to you, baby. I’d prefer that you date some nice young professional black man, but I can’t live your life or tell you who to date or who to love. I just pray for your safety and hope for your happiness. If this Sean Andrews is the one that makes you happy, then I’m happy.”

  I sighed and stared up at the sky, “Mom, isn’t love supposed to conquer all?”

  “I wish,” she snorted. “You’ve been watching too many movies, Leah. Love’s a powerful thing but you can’t keep a marriage going with love alone. Love is a small thing when your father’s snoring wakes me up in the middle of the night.”

  I laughed as Mom continued. “Sweetheart, I’ve always told you that relationships take a lot of work. You gotta be patient and accepting. You have to love and accept the person you’re with: snoring, pipe smoking, and all. Don’t mean you have to like everything about him, but you have to respect him and you have to love him despite the things he’s gonna do that drive you up the wall.”

  “Is that why Pop’s always complaining about having to sleep on his side?”

  “That’s right,” she said smugly.

  “I’m not sure I can do it.”

  “It’s a little harder for you young folks today. You have so many issues you gotta deal with, and I don’t want you hurt.” Her voice trailed off and I looked into my mother’s dark brown eyes as she smoothed my hair.

  “But…” I added.

  “Nothing worth having comes easy. I always told you children that.”

  I sighed, knowing she spoke the truth. “I still don’t know what to do.”

  “Then tell him, Leah. Let him know how you feel and if he can’t think of a way to make it better, then you gotta do some searching. Love is wonderful, but you still have to be at peace with yourself. I don’t want to be nosey here,” she continued.

  “Yes, you do.”

  “I’m your mother so I get that privilege. Haven’t you known him for a while?”

  “Strictly as friends.”

  “And it’s changed?”

  “Yes, and I don’t know how to handle it. I love him, Mom, and he says he loves me,” I admitted. “But a part of me still doesn’t believe this is the real thing. Maybe I just need some time to get my head together. I asked Sean for space.”

  “That’s a good idea. Why don’t you take some time off work and come back with your Pop and me?”

  “Nice try, but I just got back from vacation and somebody’s got to look after Rena.”

  “Leah, Rena is a grown woman. It’s time you started looking after yourself.”

  “But…” I protested.

  “But nothing,” she gently scolded. “You’ve got more than enough to worry about. You let Rena and Trey worry about each other and you work on getting your house in order.”

  “Speaking of Traxx, I mean Trey,” she said, “we’d probably better head back before Rena has your Pop all tied up in knots.”

  “You don’t think she’s giving him any trouble, do you?”

  I gave Mom a look and, arm and arm, we both turned back, laughing.

  “Thanks, Mom.”

  Mom was wrong, but not by much. Pop was only talking, but not just to Rena. Sean was sitting next to him.

  “Yes, just come on over about one o’clock. I won’t have my girls to provide the usual excellent meal service, but we play a mean game of poker.”

  “Mr. Russell, I’m honored at the invitation. Your daughter showed me a trick or two.”

  I almost tripped on the rug at the wink Sean gave me. The reminder of the game of strip poker we played the night before our trip back to New York sent blood rushing to my cheeks. Luckily no one caught the exchange between the two of us.

  “Welcome back.” His face lit up as he stood and walked towards me. “Your dad has invited me to Philadelphia next Sunday for a poker game.”

  I ushered him into the kitchen for a little privacy. “I thought you would be out of the country?”

  “Change of plans. We’re going to be playing a benefit concert in Philly that Saturday.”

  “Oh.”

  “I know that I’m not supposed to be here, but I had to see you one last time before I left.”

  I swallowed hard before responding. “I miss you, Scottish.”

  He placed his fingertips underneath my chin and lifted my face toward his. “Come with me, Leah.”

  “I can’t. Not yet.”

  “All right. I still plan on playing poker with your dad next week.”

  “Watch out or he’ll take you to the cleaners.”

  “Don’t worry about me, darling. I’ve got a few tricks up my sleeve.”

  “I know.” My smile grew bigger at his little boast.

  “I think your dad likes me.”

  I suppressed the urge to laugh. Pop was friendly to everyone. It was that friendliness that had lulled all my ex-boyfriends into a false sense of safety. Then, before they knew it, Pop had them sweating as he asked them questions about every aspect of their lives.

  “Beat my dad at poker and he’ll de
finitely like you.”

  “Care to give me some pointers back at my place?”

  “Sean,” I warned.

  “Just a thought,” he responded.

  “So what are your plans for the next month?” I asked and inwardly cursed. “Sorry. I don’t have the right to ask that question.”

  “Yes, you do. I’m going to do some writing, play a few shows, and spend some time with my dad.” He continued, “I mean what I say. I love you. When you’re ready, let me know.”

  I nodded my head as words of love and declarations of affection sat on the tip of my tongue. This was so much harder than I had thought. “Take care, Sean.”

  He didn’t say good-bye or good luck. He just kissed me tenderly before leaving. I didn’t see him to the door. Instead I touched my lips with my fingers, trying to fight the sinking feeling that I’d made one of the biggest mistakes of my life.

  Chapter 21

  “What’s wrong?” Rena asked.

  “Nothing. Why would you say something’s wrong?” I replied with my finger hitting the left arrow key. I could hear her moving around in the bed but couldn’t turn to answer. I just watched as the second multi-colored row disappeared.

  “You’re playing Tetris.”

  “And…I like to play the game now and then.”

  “You’ve been playing it non-stop since Mom and Pop went to bed.”

  “So…”

  “When you got that 386 PC in college, you’d play Tetris whenever exams came around. Then when you broke off with what’s his name…”

  “Chris.”

  “Yep. When you turned down his proposal, you played Tetris all weekend. Then there was…”

  “Okay,” I replied. “Is there a point to this trip down memory lane?”

  “Sitting there playing that game isn’t going to solve your problem.”

  “I’m not trying to solve any problems. I’m just trying not to think about them,” I shot back.

  “It’s three in the morning.” She yawned louder. “What happened between you and Sean?”

  “Nothing,” I quickly denied.

  “You only play Tetris when you’re upset. Did he say something to you?”