This is a poem I wrote so many years ago for someone special in my life. A time when I thought love would last forever. We both know that’s not true. But it’s still nice to remember love lost, and think how nice it will feel once it returns. This is special to me and so are you. Enjoy.
Riley sent Lonelyboy the poem, and when she hit the send button, she wanted to feel the surge of love, but instead her tears returned once more.
Chapter 22
Dwight’s eyes were closed when he broke out into laughter. He was listening to Miss Dupree, a regular on the Tom Joyner morning show, who was sharing her method of picking the numbers with listeners. When his phone rang he assumed it was his mother. He sat up in his bed and removed his hand from just below the waistband of his boxers when he heard what sounded like a white female on the other end.
“Good morning, this is Becky Lowe. Can I speak with Mr. Dwight Scott?” she asked.
“This is Mr. Dwight Scott.”
“How are you doing, Dwight? Can I call you Dwight?”
“I don’t know, I’m still waking up. Now, who did you say this is?” he asked as he turned down his radio.
“Becky Lowe, I’m with Phillips and Associates. We’re an executive search company, and I received a copy of your résumé,” Becky said.
“And,” Dwight answered in a slightly annoyed tone. He wanted to know how this woman had gotten his information. Rooks and Associates was the firm he had interviewed with.
“The reason I’m calling is we have a client in the Washington, D.C., area who’s seen your résumé and really wants to talk with you about a position,” Becky said.
“How did you get my résumé?”
“Oh, from the agency you registered with. Most of the high-tech agencies list their candidates on a database, and that’s where I got your information,” Becky said.
“Okay. What type of position?”
“It’s a senior level programming job that can lead to management.” Dwight was still a bit apprehensive; he had heard the leading-to-management line more times than he’d like to remember. But Dwight wanted to go back to work, he didn’t like sitting at home all morning, waiting for the phone to ring. And as much as he like playing basketball, he couldn’t do that all day either.
“So who do I talk with?” Dwight asked.
“You’re interested! That’s great. I’ll make the arrangements,” Becky said.
“What arrangements?” Dwight was hoping this wasn’t an agency that charged a fee for locating positions.
“Didn’t you hear me? The position is in D.C. You’ll be flying there for the interview, and if all goes well, it could be your new home.”
“New home? Hold up. I don’t know if I’m interested in moving to Washington, D.C. I thought the position was in Chicago. I told those headhunters I was interested only in positions in Chicago and Oakland,” Dwight said.
“I think you should at least go up for the interview. After the interview, you can express your interest in staying in Chicago or relocating to Oakland. Even though, looking at this information, it’s hard for me to tell if they have an Oakland office. It’s an African American company that’s growing at a rapid rate. The company was started with the backing of some minority venture capitalist and they’re already listed in Black Enterprise’s top one hundred. They’ve also been written up in The Wall Street Journal,” Becky said. The thought of working for an African American company perked up Dwight’s interest.
“An African American company, huh,” Dwight replied.
“Yes, I could send you over some information. But we’ve got to move quickly. I don’t know how long this position is going to be open. If you’re interested after reading the material, you need to call me right away. I’d like to arrange to have you in Washington tomorrow, or at the very least by Friday. They’re willing to fly you up to their headquarters. And they do everything first class.”
“All right, send over the information and I’ll get right back with you. I guess if you have my phone number then you’ve got my address,” Dwight said. Becky read Dwight’s address from his résumé, and he confirmed. She promised to have a courier at his doorstep within the hour.
“I think you’re going to be real impressed,” Becky said. “I’ve heard nothing but great things about this company.”
“What’s the name of the company?”
“I’ll tell you that after you’ve reviewed the information. It won’t be on any of the material I’m sending you. If you’re interested, then I’ll share the information. It’s company policy. You understand, we don’t want you to give the information to another search firm and allow them to place you. We work on commissions, of course, you know.”
“So you’re like a salesman, huh?” Dwight knew there had to be a catch somewhere.
“You could say that. Thanks for your time, Dwight. I hope we can work this deal out,” Becky said.
“Yeah, right,” Dwight said as he hung up the phone. Something about a white lady talking like she was selling him to a company didn’t feel quite right. But what could a brother do?
The Woodson house was as quiet as an autumn evening, and Riley sat in the library and absorbed the silence. Riley didn’t mind the silence while reflecting on the events of the week. The rejection from Yolanda had left her with a huge emptiness, a feeling that started in the pit of her stomach and then worked its way up. Clarice would say Riley was being dramatic, and she needed to forget about singing and writing poetry and get a real job. But those were her mother’s desires, and Riley had decided that when her cloud of depression lifted, she would continue pursuing her dreams even more fiercely. Not her mother’s, not Selwyn’s, and to hell with anybody who didn’t believe her. And that included Yolanda and the group.
Riley had spent three days watching television in a mindless stupor until her body would betray her and sleep would come. Sometimes, when she was staring at the screen, Riley could see glimpses of her own life. Riley trying hard to be the perfect daughter, sister, mother, wife, and friend. But her children, brother, parents, Selwyn, and her friends had made her painfully aware that she wasn’t perfect at anything.
She was wearing only rose-colored silk pajamas and matching robe. Riley’s face was without makeup and her dimples were lost in her strained face, framed by her hair brushed back and held with two gold clips. She canceled scheduled workouts with her trainer. Riley had finally discovered a way of losing weight without the rigors of diet and exercise. Depression.
Selwyn was on the West Coast on business, and the only contact Riley had with the outside world was her maid, who delivered meals that remain untouched. She didn’t answer her phone and had instructed the doorman to tell any visitors that she was out of town on a family emergency.
The only time she left the sofa was to go to her office, turn on her computer, and pray for a message from Lonelyboy. But her secret admirer had disappeared. Riley hadn’t heard from him since she sent him the poem she had written for Selwyn. Riley had done something she had promised herself and the group she’d never do. At the last minute she had included her private number. Maybe if she heard his voice it would help her recovery. She had instructed him to ring once and then call back immediately so she would know it was him. But the only rings on her private number came in multiples, so Riley just let the damn thing ring.
Riley was thinking about finding her journal and writing some of her feelings down, when she heard someone knocking at her door. She ignored the intrusion, but moments later she heard the key in the door and then a male voice calling her name. “Mrs. Woodson … are you in there? This is Jimmy, the building supervisor. I have someone here to see you.” Riley pulled her robe together to make sure it was buttoned and got up from the sofa, when she heard her mother’s voice.
“Riley. Riley Denise Woodson. Are you in here?”
Riley walked to the foyer of her house and saw her mother standing behind Jimmy. When she saw Riley, Clarice moved Jimmy aside and gave Riley a half-h
ug. “Girl, you’ve had me and your father scared to death. How come you haven’t been answering your phone? I’ve been calling and calling.”
“I’m fine, Mother. Jimmy, thank you,” Riley said.
“I hope I did the right thing, Mrs. Woodson, your mother was pretty nervous,” Jimmy said. After closing the door behind Jimmy, Riley walked back into her library and reclaimed her place on the sofa. Her mother followed her.
“Riley, what is wrong with you?”
“I’m fine, Mother,” Riley said.
“Well, you don’t look fine. Why don’t you have any clothes on? Where is Selwyn? You still haven’t told me why you haven’t been answering your phone,” Clarice said. Riley didn’t answer her mother, but instead gazed at the muted television. Clarice was shocked. She had never seen her daughter act in this manner, not even when she was a teenager.
“Riley, don’t sit there like a bump on a log. What’s the matter with you?”
Riley remained silent, so Clarice walked over to the television and hit the power button off. Still no response from Riley.
“You can sit there like you’re crazy if you want to, but I’m not leaving here until you tell me what’s wrong with you. I can sit here all night, I don’t have any place to go,” Clarice said as she sat in a chair directly across the room from Riley. Her voice was cool and bitter. Silence swallowed the room.
Almost an hour later, Clarice got up and started talking again, “Okay, miss. You can sit there if you want to, but I think you’ve lost your mind. I’m going to call your father, and then Selwyn. If I can’t get a hold of them, then I’m calling nine one one. If you’re sick or something, then you don’t need me sitting here. You need to be in a hospital. In all my years of living, I have never seen anything like this. I have taught you better. And if you’re acting like this because you think your father and I will be spending all our time with Clayton Jr. when he gets out of that hellhole—then you’d better snap out of it. You can’t be sitting up here in this room and let life pass you by.”
When Clarice moved toward the phone, Riley realized she wasn’t going to leave without dragging Selwyn into her drama. Riley willed her voice into a firm and steady tone and said, “Mother, I’m going to say this only once. I am fine. I want to be alone. You don’t need to call Daddy or Selwyn. I’m asking you to leave me alone. I appreciate your concern, but I have to be alone.”
“But why? When did this start? Does this have to do with Ryan? Is she okay? Are you upset about Clayton Jr?”
“Mother, I’m sure you’ve talked with Ryan. She and Reggie are both fine. And I’m happy Clayton might get paroled.” Riley started to tell her mother to stop being so messy, but she didn’t think Clarice would hear her.
“What if I stay here and leave you alone? I can stay here and sleep in the guest room, or in Ryan’s room. Yes, that’s what I’ll do. If you don’t want to talk, then fine. I’ll just stay here and make sure you don’t do something crazy.” Riley was preparing to take her mother by the hands and lead her out the door, when she heard the keys to the door turn again.
“Who is that?” Clarice shouted.
“It’s Selwyn. Clarice, is that you?”
“Yes, we’re in the library,” Clarice said. Riley rolled her eyes at her mother in anger. Selwyn walked into the library and looked at Riley sitting on the sofa with her arms folded and Clarice standing near the phone.
“What’s going on?” Selwyn asked as he set down his hanging bag and laptop case.
“That’s what I’m trying to find out. Riley, why didn’t you tell me Selwyn was coming home?” Riley didn’t answer her mother, and Selwyn looked at Riley with a puzzled glance. “Oh, she didn’t know I was coming back. I finished my meeting sooner than expected, and I decided I wanted to be home. Riley, are you okay? I called you several times and I didn’t get an answer. I was thinking maybe you went to Hampton.”
“I don’t think she’s okay. Selwyn, I think we need to take this girl to the hospital and get her checked out. I’ve been calling her for about three days, so I came over here and she hasn’t said five words to me. Do you know what’s wrong with her?”
Selwyn walked over to the sofa and sat next to Riley. He took her hand and asked, “Riley, are you okay, baby?” When she didn’t answer, he put his head on her forehead, checking for a fever. His touch felt soft to Riley, but she turned away from him and said, “I’m fine, Selwyn. I’ll be fine. I’ve asked my mother to leave. She won’t. Would you please tell her I want to be alone?”
“See what I’m talking about, this girl is crazy, Selwyn. She’s talking about me like I’m not here. Riley knows I don’t take that kind of mess. We raised her better. Treating me like I’m some sort of disease,” Clarice said. Selwyn looked at her and noticed tears were streaming down her face. This was not the homecoming he had planned. He went over to Clarice and put his hand on her shoulders and said very gently, “Clarice, I have everything under control. Riley will be fine. But I think you should leave. I promise I’ll find out what’s going on and I will call you. Will you do that for me?”
“I’m not leaving, this is my child,” Clarice said as she wiped tears from her face. “This is my child.”
“Clarice, Riley is my wife. I will take care of her. Now, come on, sweetheart. Let me see you to the door.” Clarice looked at Riley and shook her head in disgust and rushed from the library and out the door without a good-bye.
Selwyn sat back on the sofa and took Riley’s hand again. Staring at the television screen, Riley felt a numbness running through her like something the dentist had given her to ease the pain of root canal. And even though her pain wasn’t physical, she still hurt.
“Tell me what’s wrong, Riley. Are the kids okay? I talked with them both earlier and they sounded like everything was okay. Tell me what’s wrong.”
“Nothing’s wrong, Selwyn,” Riley said. Her voice was calm, though filled with sadness.
“But you don’t sound fine. Is there anything I can do?”
Riley looked down at Selwyn holding her hand. “Tell me what happened to us? What did I do to make you stop loving me?” she asked suddenly as she looked up at her husband as if for the first time, wanting him to love her.
“Riley, what are you talking about? I love you,” Selwyn said strongly.
“Are you sure?”
“Is this what’s bothering you? You know I’ve been busy with work, and I know I’m not as affectionate as I used to be, but it’s not you, Riley. If anything, you’ve been too tolerant of my negligence. It’s me.”
Riley’s eyes brightened a little. She had never heard Selwyn admit that something was wrong with him. “What do you mean, it’s you?”
“I’ve been afraid. You know, life for the most part has been good for us. I’m making a lot of money. The kids were great, you were great. I just got scared,” Selwyn said softly.
“Scared of what?”
“That something would happen, like you leaving me or the kids. Having a family and being a part of a family is something I have dreamed of all my life. When it came together so perfectly, I just figured something would happen to take it away. Like it happened so many times when I was growing up,” he added.
“Where did you think I was going to go? And the children? You know how much they love you.”
“I don’t know. It wasn’t anything you or the kids did or said. About three years ago, I started having these nightmares. I’d come home and the place would be empty. The furniture and all our belongings would still be here, but there were no signs of you, Ryan, or Reggie. It was as though you’d never existed. Never been a part of my life. Sometimes I was surprised when I’d come home from long trips and you’d still be here. I think many times I’d left just to experience that feeling I have when I walk in the house and see your face,” Selwyn said as he came closer and placed his face against her cheek.
Riley touched his face and then placed her hand near her heart. Then she said, “Why didn’t you tell me a
bout your dreams. We could have gotten help. I could have asked Leland about doctors.”
“Because I know I can work this out. I didn’t want to talk about it. I guess I just needed to say what was bothering me out loud. I’ve kept it inside, pretending it’s not there.”
“But that’s why I’m here. We used to be friends. I want to be your friend again. I need a friend,” Riley said.
“I need a friend too,” Selwyn said as he moved his head to Riley’s lap, and she gently brushed his face as tears tumbled from her eyes. Tears of joy, the kind you feel when you see an old friend you’d given up for dead.
Chapter 23
“Excuse me, are you Yolanda Williams?” a man with a husky baritone voice asked as he walked up to my table at the Fifty-seven Fifty-seven restaurant and bar in the lobby court of the Four Seasons Hotel.
“Yes, I am. You must be Monty Mason,” I said as I stood up and extended my hand. He shook it gently and said, “Please, have a seat.”
Lajoyce had told me the record company had been really impressed with me and wanted me to meet Monty Mason to determine if the two of us could work together. I had listened to his group’s music most of the morning during my workout.
Monty Mason was a handsome, well-dressed man wearing tailored gray slacks and a light blue form-fitting sweater, a little over six feet with slightly rounded shoulders. Monty’s skin was a Sugar Baby-caramel color. The first thing I noticed about him were his wide-set puppy-dog brown eyes, and lashes as thick and dark as his closely cropped hair.
“Do you stay here often?” I asked.
“It depends. This place is usually booked. But it’s one of my favorite hotels,” Monty said.
“So you live in L.A.?”
“For the time being. What are you drinking?” Monty asked as he looked around the restaurant for the waitress.
If This World Were Mine Page 19
