I must have been talking louder than I realized, because I looked around and people had begun to stare in our direction. It was not my intent to air our dirty laundry in a restaurant, but his comment had triggered something in me. Flashbacks of Byran telling me he was in love with another woman at the restaurant in the Bahamas surfaced.
“I am glad you shared that with me. I never knew how you felt.”
“You never asked, Dad.”
“Let me say this. You have every right to feel the way you do, Allyson. I made some very immature decisions when I was younger. I gave up what I knew was real in order to chase a wild fetish that was not real. It was good for a while, but the older I got, the more I longed for the authentic. The type of love that was pure up until I contaminated it with my buffoonery. I honestly ran because I did not want to face the mess I had made. With Melissa, she was a part of the mess, and two messy people together seemed like the best thing for me.
“I stayed gone because I never thought your mother would truly love me again the way she had loved me before I messed over her heart. I thought if I treated her like crap she would move on . . . but even to this day she never did. So when I saw her at the church that night, I knew it was a sign from God. I knew it was my second chance at finally loving her—loving you—the way I knew I could. The way I wanted to. The way you both deserved.”
Saved by Angela. That girl was like an angel—she appeared at the perfect moments. She placed our entrées on the table, and instead of resuming the conversation, we sat in silence and ate our lunch. The food was delectable, as usual, but no matter how much I tried to, I could not enjoy it as much I usually did. Seafood and tired excuses from a runaway husband did not mix well.
My mother finally broke the awkward silence. “Allyson, how is Byran? He called me a few days ago and asked me to talk to you. He wants you to reconsider the divorce.”
“That is not going to happen.” I shoved sweet potatoes in my mouth.
“I see. Have you at least tried to talk it over with him?”
“What is there to talk about? I am not going to be like you. I refuse to live another day of my life unhappy because I have given someone the power to control my happiness. I will not find myself in my fifties, waiting for him to have a Damascus road experience and come back apologizing for all the years of my life he wasted trying to make himself love me. I would rather find true love now. I would rather find someone who would prefer to die with me than live a single day on earth without me.”
She lowered her head as my words sank in. I think she was beginning to see that her hold on me was loosening. Nonetheless, it was strange to see her cower so easily. I was accustomed to my mother being much more feisty, controlling, and aggressive. I was not sure if I liked this new persona she wore. I sat back in my chair and observed both her and my dad. It seemed as if his presence soothed her. She had a new glow, one that I could not recall ever seeing. It was almost tangible. Was that what love looked like?
“Ally, we are not expecting you to embrace the idea of us getting back together immediately. We both understand your perspective on it. However, when you get to be our age, you fully learn the lesson you seem to have already learned on your own. We now realize we took for granted something we can never get back—time. I, for one, do not want to waste another day saying ‘What if?’ and ‘I wonder why.’ I want to live fully and completely happy.” He turned to look Mom in the eyes. “And your mother makes me both complete and happy.”
Mom looked as though she was smitten. A girlish grin turned the corners of her mouth.
“How is Mom supposed to feel secure in what you are saying, Dad? What if you wake up one morning and realize you two really are two different people and she does not make you as happy as she is making you now? Who will be there to pick up the pieces of her broken heart this time? Who will dry her tears this time?”
“I trust your father,” my mom said. “I know he is not a perfect man, and I do not expect him to be. We have both changed and are not the same people we were twenty years ago. We have both grown up and do not have time to play the games we used to play with our hearts. As your dad said, we are now on the other side of time, and it does neither of us any good to waste it.”
I pretended to play an invisible violin. “That’s sweet.” I wiped my mouth with the linen napkin. “I wish the two of you the best remaining years of your life.” I signaled for Angela to come to the table. “Can you bring the check, please?”
“Okay, Mrs. Ward. Will it all be on one check?”
I nodded. “Yes.”
She left to go and get the ticket.
“Allyson, you do not have to take care of ours,” Dad said.
“Dad, I cannot speak for your financial situation because I do not know what you have or do not have. But as for Mom, I am quite certain she is running pretty low. I have not made a deposit into her account in a couple of weeks, and the way Mom loves to shop and spend money, I am sure that money is already gone.”
“Well, I am back now. You do not have to take care of your mother anymore. That is my job,” he insisted.
“It has been my job for quite some time now. Mom got hurt on a job more than ten years ago and was not able to work again. It has been my doing that she lives the lifestyle she lives. Mom has now learned to appreciate the finer things in life, and I seriously doubt she is willing to digress to average.” I pulled out my credit card. “Go ahead, Mom. Tell him. Tell him that you are addicted to shopping sprees, designer labels, fine dining, and yearly vacations. Tell him how happy you get when you get to a perfume counter and a new fragrance is out. So I hate to break it to you, Dad, but she has become extremely high maintenance over the years.”
“I have changed,” my mom said quietly.
“Ha!” I said too loudly. Mom was on a roll today. “Mom, are you serious? You mean to tell me you have given up your love for expensive things too? Wow, this has been a very enlightening day.”
Angela came, delivered the check, and took my credit card. I pretended to be occupied with something on my phone, but I peered across the table at them again, and a certain sense of sadness washed over me. They looked as if they had found the missing piece to each of their puzzles, but I was sad because they had allowed twenty years to go by being too stubborn to try to finish what their love had started. As I continued to examine them, I watched their body language. Mom brushed something off of Dad’s face, as if she had never stopped doing it. He pushed hair out of her face, as if he had been doing it all along. I had to admit they seemed happy together.
“Mrs. Ward,” Angela said, “your card was declined.”
“Excuse me?” I said, smiling. “There must be a mistake. Run it again.”
“I tried three times.”
I took the card from her. “Oh. Okay, try this card.” I handed her my black card. Black cards were never declined.
I looked into the questioning gaze of Mom and Dad—particularly Mom.
“Sometimes the magnetic strip gets deactivated,” I asserted.
“Yeah, that has happened to me before,” Dad said. “I was down in Florida once and—”
“Mrs. Ward,” Angela interrupted, “I am sorry, but this one was also declined. Is there another card you would like for me to try?”
My head was spinning out of control. My hands became a sweaty mess, and the contacts in my eyes were drying out by the second at the embarrassment. I inhaled a deep breath and slowly exhaled.
“I have cash.” I reached into my purse and pulled out the cash needed to pay the check and passed it to her. “I am so sorry for the trouble, Angela. I do not have the slightest idea as to why my cards are being declined.”
“It’s no problem. There must be something wrong with our reader.”
I snapped my fingers, as if she had just come up with the perfect explanation. “You are exactly right. That is probably what it is. Well, thank you for your patience.”
“Again, no problem. I will be right ba
ck with your change.”
“You know what? Since you have gone through so much trouble . . . keep the change.”
Her smile of gratitude was worth the trouble of my cards declining.
“Are we done here? I need to go and check on my accounts just to make sure,” I said.
“Of course, honey,” my mother replied. “Before we depart, I want to say one final thing. I am sure I can speak for your father when I say in spite of the nature of our conversation today, we enjoyed spending this time with you. I know we cannot eradicate a twenty-year issue with one lunch, but we are hoping this was a start.”
“There are some things about myself that I am working on. I am trying to learn how to live a Christian life, and sometimes I get it right and sometimes I get it wrong. I am not saying that I will not ever get to the place where I can accept you two getting back together. It is just hard for me to embrace right now. Mom, I just do not want to see you hurt again. That is my only reason for protesting this in the first place. In the same manner in which you all have proceeded to go on with your lives and live in total bliss, by all means continue to do so. I will soon get over myself, and maybe we can find a way to create a new normal—together. But this is the best I can do. I cannot pretend I am head over heels about it, but I can tell you that I would be willing try one day.”
Mother smiled, as did Dad. I could see on their faces they had accomplished what they had set out to do.
“That is all we wanted—for you to try to understand why we wanted to be together again. We cannot ask for anything more right now,” my mother noted.
“Good.” I got up from my seat. “I really do have to go now. I will call you guys later, okay?”
“Please call me if you need anything, Ally,” Dad offered.
“I will.”
They rose from their seats also, and they each kissed me on the cheek. My mother went a little further and embraced me. I stood there as frozen as an ice cube, trying to determine if I should hug her back. I could not remember the last time my mother had hugged me for no reason. Hesitantly, I wrapped my arms around her and included a pat on the back for good measure. I definitely had to get used to this motherly love, the lessons, and the concern she was dishing out these days.
We exited the restaurant, got in our cars, and went our separate ways. I grabbed my iPhone and scrolled my contacts until I came across the number to the bank. The first card that had been declined was our bank card. Byran very seldom made large purchases without at least first letting me know, but even beyond that, he would have had to buy a house and a couple of Bentleys for the card to be declined for $68.80.
“Thank you for calling Bank of America. This is Leslie speaking. How may I help you?”
“Yes, I am calling to check the balance on my account, as well as to get the most recent withdrawals and purchases.”
“Okay, I will be glad to assist you today. May I have your account number, please?”
I gave her my account number.
“And will you please verify the last four digits of your Social Security number?”
I gave her that as well.
As I waited for her to pull the account information up, I concluded in my mind that all was well and that a mistake must have been made on the restaurant’s end.
“Mrs. Ward?”
“Yes?”
“The balance for the account number you gave me is zero.”
I swerved over into another lane, and a motorist blasted their car horn at me. Did she say zero? I laughed softly, sure that she had misspoken.
“Zero?”
“Yes, ma’am. It says here that a withdrawal in the amount of $823,947.16 was made this morning.”
“Can you also check the other accounts I have? There are two more checking accounts and one savings. I don’t have the account number to any, and I don’t have a check card either.”
“I need your full Social.”
I gave her my Social and waited for what seemed like the longest five minutes of my life as she looked up the other accounts.
“Ma’am, those accounts have all been emptied out as well.”
“So you are saying I have no money?”
“All the accounts you have with our bank reflect a zero balance.”
Air! I need air!
I was struggling to breathe as I fumbled trying to let the window down and remain focused on the road. This could not be happening.
“How can someone just walk into a bank and withdraw all of my money?”
“Well, not just anybody can do that, Mrs. Ward. Only authorized people on the account can withdraw funds or make any kinds of changes.”
Huh?
“What are you saying? Are you suggesting I am not the victim of identity theft, but that someone who was authorized to withdraw the money is responsible?”
“Yes, that is what I am saying. You are definitely not the victim of identity theft, Mrs. Ward. Mr. Ward came into the bank and signed to withdraw all the money from the accounts.”
Byran did this?
I was fuming.
Why would he do this to me?
“How is it that he is authorized to do that without my permission?”
“He is the primary account holder. You were just an authorized user on the accounts. And because he is the primary, he can do what he chooses without your knowledge or cooperation.”
“So are those accounts closed?”
“No, he did not close him.” She paused, but I could tell she wanted to say more. “Listen, I could get in trouble for saying this, but you seem to be taken aback and caught off guard by this. I have been right where you are. My ex-husband did the same thing to me. Mr. Ward did not close the accounts. He withdrew the funds and placed them into another account that he is the sole user on. At any given moment, he can make one phone call and transfer all the funds right back to their respective accounts. I could be wrong, but this looks to be some sort of blackmail tactic. Have you two been fighting lately?”
Was the bank teller getting in my business?
“That is not important. I need to go so I can make some other phone calls. I do appreciate your time and assistance.”
“You are welcome. I apologize if I offended you in any way.”
“No, you are fine. As you can imagine and have already said, I am appalled by this information. I need to go and handle it. But thank you again for your assistance.”
I ended the call and immediately dialed Byran. His phone went directly to voice mail. I tried four more times, to no avail, so I resorted to sending him a text message instructing him to call me ASAP. I knew he would get the text because his phone was glued to him at all times.
My phone ringing startled me. I looked at the number and recognized that it was the spa. I had totally forgotten to call and cancel my appointment.
“Hello?”
“Mrs. Ward, hi. We were just calling because you did not show up for your appointment today. Because you are a weekly client of ours, we are going to wave the fee for no-show and no cancellation. Would you like to reschedule?”
“Can I call you back? I am in the middle of something very important, but I will most definitely give you a call to set a new time.”
“Sounds great. We look forward to hearing back from you.”
I merged onto I-285 and headed toward Cornerstone. My assistant had informed me earlier today that Byran was in the office and would be there until five o’clock. I looked at the time on my phone. It was only shortly after two.
My efforts to not speed failed miserably as I raced through traffic and darted in and out of lanes. Anger was the fuel that pumped the blood through my veins. I was convinced that Byran had completely lost his mind. Within twenty minutes, I drove up to the campus of the church. I saw Byran’s Ferrari parked in his designated parking space. I parked in my space next to him and all but ran through the administrative office doors.
Renae, with her worrisome self, happened to be standing at the receptionis
t desk when I walked in. Lord, please give me the grace to deal with her today.
“Well, First Lady, it is so good to finally see you back around this place. We were beginning to wonder if you had abandoned our pastor,” she said, looking back at Eula, the receptionist. “We do hope everything is all right. Some of the women of the church have been offering to assist Pastor in any way possible since you have not been here. I also know the deaconesses are pretty upset that you stopped working on the women’s conference.”
I put my hand up to stop her from speaking.
“Renae, I got this, okay? Whatever is or is not going on with Pastor and me is our business. But nothing is going on that anyone here in this church should be concerned about. As for all those who are offering help, by all means let them help. Anything their hands find to do, they should do it with all their might.”
I brushed past them, leaving them standing there gazing at me like a deer being blinded by headlights. I went toward the wing where our joint office was located. I plunged into our office suite with the force of an unstoppable train.
Damita jumped up from her desk.
“First Lady, you scared me,” she said, her hands rushing to her chest. “Are you okay? You look as if you could rip someone’s head off right now.”
Byran emerged from his part of the office. “She probably wants to rip off mine.” He smiled. “Damita, can you please give us a minute in the suite alone? Block all calls and visitors. Thank you.”
She immediately grabbed a stack of folders, placed the phone on voice-mail mode, picked up her purse, and fled the office.
Byran turned and walked back into his part of the office. “So you ignore my calls, you ban me from my own house, you forsake your duties here at the church, and the only way I can get your attention is to block your access to money.” He shook his head before he turned to face me. “Allyson, Allyson, Allyson. You, my dear, are predictable. I knew if nothing else, money would get your attention. It worked in the beginning, and it still does.”
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