Lisa
I’d called Jeremiah a minimum of fifteen times since the shooting in Little Rock. Not once did he answer the phone, although my calls stopped going straight to voicemail after the seventh attempt. I know that I shouldn’t be hurt that he was obviously ignoring me, not after everything I had put him through, but feelings were unpredictable and uncontrollable things. When I picked up Ja’mya the morning after that eventful night—and once I’d answered all of her questions about my own whereabouts and injuries—I asked her if she knew where her father was. The last thing I expected her to say was that he was in Mexico.
She pulled no punches in letting me know that I single-handedly pushed him into a pit of depression that both she and her grandparents could only get him out of by flying him to another country. Whether she intended to guilt me or not, it was nothing compared to how I’d already been feeling, especially after the scene at the gas station. The look on Jeremiah’s face after I told him to leave me alone haunted me nightly, but I’d do it again in a heartbeat if it meant I didn’t have to bury him and live in a world without him in it.
I’d done it.
I’d turned my back on him and because of that, he was spared. Between Trisha telling me that Jeremiah was supposed to be in that house the night of the killings, and Ja’mya telling me that he’d been too depressed to work, I realized that I’d been successful in my actions. I’d altered the path of our lives, according to the palm reading in Houston. That fateful night marked exactly two months since Mama Sari told me that death was knocking on my door and asking if Jeremiah could come outside to play. Two months of heartache that now seemed worth every night I cried myself to sleep on Trisha’s hard guest bed.
In the grand scheme of things, those two months was nothing. Now that it was over, Jeremiah and I could get back together, and I planned to spend the rest of his life proving myself to him if that’s what it took.
In honor of the eleven lives lost, one public memorial service would be held the week following the shooting, with the families of the deceased holding their own private funerals and repasts. Not only was I attending in support of the other people who tragically lost their lives due to one disgusting man’s inability to accept his divorce, but I was also hoping to see Jeremiah since I couldn’t get a hold of him any other way. Ja’mya couldn’t tell me whether or not Jeremiah would be there, and Sabrina still didn’t have many words for me. So, without knowing if I’d be accepted or kicked out, I headed back North with nothing but hope and a prayer.
The church where the service was being held was pretty big, but with so many people in attendance, the place felt small. There were so many people crammed into the space that it was standing room only for anyone over the 500 attendees the building could seat comfortably. When I arrived, the service hadn’t even begun but chairs were already being put into the middle aisle to accommodate the crowd. My seat was near the back of the building and I searched for Jeremiah throughout the entire service. I finally caught sight of him as I exited the building after the two-hour long program. He was a sight for sore eyes.
The sunlight danced off of his head, giving him the appearance of donning a halo. Sunglasses covered his often expressive eyes, but from the hard set of his jaw, I knew that his eyes held a solemnity in them. His arms, encased in a fitted, navy blue suit jacket, were crossed over his chest as he stood with his legs shoulder-width apart and nodded his agreement to whatever the older woman in front of him was saying. I couldn’t deign to tear my gaze away from him and automatically, my legs begin to carry me in his direction.
As if sensing me, his head tilted slightly and somehow I knew that he noticed my presence. I moved with purpose, just in case he decided to move before I reached him, but to my luck, the woman said something further and pulled him in for a hug that lasted until I was two feet away.
“J.” He didn’t respond, but he didn’t move either, encouraging me. I moved closer, extending a hand with the intentions of giving him comfort on what was likely a hard day for him as well but he stepped back quickly, causing me to pitch forward as my hand met air. I caught myself from falling forward and tried to tuck my embarrassment down.
“I’ve—um—I’ve been trying to call you. I just wanted to ta—”
“You told me to leave you alone and I said I would.” The blow of his brusque interruption was softened by my instant reaction to hearing his voice for the first time in nearly a month. My nipples hardened in my cotton bra.
“I know, I know. That’s what I wanted to talk to you about, actually.” My heart had begun to pound furiously as my desire for him grew and I needed to take a moment to catch my breath. Beneath his sunglasses, I felt the intensity of his stare. After a moment and a slight shake of his head, he took a second step back.
“That’s unnecessary; I heard you loud and clear.” And before I could blink, he moved past me and across the lawn of the church. I watched, open-mouthed, as he reached the parking lot and climbed into the back seat of an awaiting car. And did so without so much as a singular glance back at me.
“Okay,” I said to myself. “I deserved that.” I turned around and observed the scene around me. People were still pouring out of the church and all across the lawn were pockets of people commiserated over the tragedy. People I didn’t know and had no connection to. The main reason I was here, had just walked away from me hastily.
“Lisa!”
I swiveled my neck back toward the parking lot where I heard my name being called. My eyes widened as I caught sight of Sabrina walking toward me with James on her heels. She swept me up in a tight hug that immediately made my eyes spring a leak. Maybe because of Jeremiah’s dismissal, I hadn’t expected such a reception from her. Her embrace took me back to months earlier when she used to refer to me as her daughter-in-love whenever Jeremiah was out of earshot. She stepped back and James pulled me to his side and pressed a kiss to my temple before walking past me. I followed his movement until Sabrina’s hand on my arm pulled my attention back to her.
“Are you coming to the repast?”
“I would like to. Where is it?”
Sabrina pulled her phone from the bowels of her shoulder bag. “It’s at Donny’s parents’ house in Maumelle. I’m sending you the address now.”
I read in the program that Donny was the agent of Hawkins Realty who had been working the open house in Jeremiah’s absence. My phone chimed as the information came through.
“I got it.”
She nodded and dropped her phone back into the cavernous bag. “You might want to gon’ ‘head and drive that way. Once these folks get on the road, it’s going to be a madhouse just trying to get on the road.” She hugged me again, this time, taking a moment to whisper in my ear that she was glad I’d come.
When she released me, I found my car in the crowded lot and did as she had suggested. It took me ten minutes to get out of the parking lot of the church but once I hit the street, I was at the house in no time and I saw exactly what Sabrina meant. The neighborhood road that led to the house was narrow and unpaved, with barely enough room to fit one car on either side of the groove that ran down the center which served as a natural lane indicator. The house itself sat on at least two acres and was huge. Not as massive as the mini-mansion where the shooting had occurred, but definitely bigger than the house I hoped to return to soon. The driveway was short but several cars had already created a makeshift lot by parking in the grass. I spotted the car used in Jeremiah’s getaway and my heart thumped. He was mere feet away from me.
Following the instructions of a man wearing a reflective vest, I parked in the grass and climbed out of my car. Slowly, I walked up to the house, unsure of where I should go, and wishing I had just waited and followed Sabrina and James here. There were two long, white, event tents—the kind I’d seen used for revivals—set up to the left of the house, under which tables and chairs had been set up. Everyone seemed to be using the entrance on the side of the house near the tents so, I followed th
e string of people into the home which was surprisingly loud with laughter and music. As I moved through the living room, a smile touched my lips at the lack of melancholy present. If I hadn’t known the reason for the gathering, it would be easy to believe that everyone was there for a barbecue or similar get-together.
Just as I made my way to the kitchen on the strength of the delicious smells permeating the air, I spotted the object of my affections in the corner of the room. There Jeremiah stood looking as beautiful as ever. His sunglasses were pushed up to the top of his head, his suit jacket had been removed, and his dress shirt had been folded up at the sleeves, exposing his forearms. Though his arms were once again folded in front of him, it was obvious that he was more relaxed than he had been at the church. A ghost of a smile even sat at the corner of his mouth as he listened to the two women who were engaging him in conversation.
“You eating, baby?”
On my right was a woman with a salt and pepper bob that was covered by a black hair net. She wore an apron, deli gloves, and held a spoon in one hand and a heavy duty paper plate in the other. I glanced behind me and noticed that I had somehow got into the line for food. My stomach grumbled and I was reminded of how many hours had passed since the scrambled eggs and toast I’d had for breakfast or even the granola bar that I scarfed down as I drove to the service. Despite wanting to speak with Jeremiah, I couldn’t deny myself a meal that I desperately needed. I was no longer in a position to pass up food.
“Yes, ma’am. I’m eating.”
She nodded her approval and scooped healthy helpings of cheese-laden macaroni and sugary yams onto my plate before passing it to her left where a second woman added collard greens, baked chicken, and a thick slice of cornbread before handing it back to me along with instructions to enjoy and be blessed. Plastic ware and napkins occupied the end of the L-shaped counter and I grabbed both before making my way out of the kitchen. Just before exiting the space and reentering the living room, I glanced back in Jeremiah’s direction. My breath caught when our eyes collided. I stood there, paralyzed by his gape until one of the women he was conversing with touched his arm, causing him to break our connection as he returned his attention back to whatever she was saying.
Heart beating, I moved dazedly through the room until I was back outside. Mechanically, I took a seat and made short work of my food. Once I finished, I turned off my tunnel vision and noticed a table of drinks sitting at the short end of the tent. I went and retrieved a bottle of water and returned to my seat to see a young man grabbing my empty plate along with others on the table.
“Oh, you didn’t have to do that.”
He gave me a warm smile. “It’s no problem, ma’am. This is my job today.”
Oh. Now that he’d mentioned it, I noticed that he had long work gloves on his hands. “In that case, thank you.”
He nodded and continued on to the row of industrial sized trash cans where he dumped the plates of food. “Be blessed, ma’am.”
Sated, I crossed the short walkway to the house and resumed my search of Jeremiah. He was still in the kitchen, but the two women he was speaking with had been replaced by Sabrina. James was nowhere to be found. Grateful to see a familiar and slightly more welcoming face, I hurried over to the two of them. Once again, Jeremiah noticed me before I was even halfway into the room.
“Hey J, Sabrina.”
Jeremiah said nothing but Sabrina hugged me to her side. “Oh good, you made it. Did you get something to eat?”
Before I could open my mouth, Jeremiah answered for me.
“She ate.”
Without missing a beat, Sabrina nodded. “Good. I’m going to go check on Donny’s mama.” With her arm still wrapped around me, she grabbed Jeremiah’s hand over his folded arms and flicked her gazed between the two of us. “I know this isn’t the best location, but sometimes we have to use what we got. I’m only gon’ say this once, ya’ll need to talk. Today.” Then she released us both, leveled us each with a hard, knowing gaze, and walked off.
I looked up at the man who I’d purposely hurt for his—and my—own good and my heart sank at his hardened jaw. That had only just returned and it was no doubt caused by my presence and the demand from his mother that he talk to me.
“J, listen.”
“Naw, I’m good.” He dropped his arms and walked away from me as if I wasn’t even there. Instantly, I was at his back, following him down a surprisingly empty hallway.
“You heard your mama, we—”
He spun on me so quickly, I bumped into his chest. “Yeah, I heard her.” He bent his knees so he could make direct eye contact. “But she doesn’t know the whole story, does she?”
Idly, I shook my head, as I was distracted by the tightness of his eyes. He was furious right now. From his perspective, it probably seemed like an ambush. I opened my mouth to speak but held my tongue as two people walked by. They spoke to us and I returned the greeting before looking left and right. There were two doors on either side of the hallway. I took a chance and opened the two on my right, finding first a walk-in coat closet and second, a deep and tastefully decorated half bathroom. Before I could lose my nerve, I grabbed Jeremiah’s hand and gripped him the way I used to grip Ja’mya’s hand when she was five and I would take her to the zoo. Suffice it to say, I held him tightly as I pulled him into the bathroom with me and closed and locked the door behind us.
“What the fuck, Lisa?!”
I leaned my back against the door as I stared him down. “You won’t answer the phone when I call you, you’re never at home when I go by. You’ve disappeared.”
His eyes were wide with disbelief. “You left me! You. Left. Me. What kind of sick, mind game type of bullshit is this that I have to be available whenever you want after you kicked me to the fucking curb?!”
My face crumbled. “I’m not playing games with you, J. When I heard about the shooting I was so scared because I thought you were there. I thought you were dead, J. But you’re not, and I’m so ecstatic. I just want to make sure you’re okay, and no one can tell me that but you.”
He stared at me, mouth gaped open and nostrils flaring. When he spoke, his voice was evenly controlled. “I’m not okay, I haven’t been since the day you walked out on me. At one point, I thought I was getting better, but then I had to go and ruin that by idiotically begging you for the umpteenth gotdamn time to marry me. And because I was operating on insanity, when you rejected me—AGAIN—I let that familiar feeling carry me into a pit of depression so deep that I couldn’t do my damn job. A job that someone else had to do in my absence. An absence that cost another man his life.”
Tears ran unchecked down my cheeks as his voice cracked.
“So, like I said, I’m not okay. If I hadn’t been so torn up about you ending us, then Donny would still be here. It’s my fault he’s dead because I couldn’t man up and do my damned job all because my girlfriend broke up with me.”
The word girlfriend fell from his lips like a curse but that wasn’t what made me rush toward him like a linebacker on the field. I tried to wrap my arms around his waist but he easily pushed me aside.
“It’s not your fault! How could you even say that? You weren’t one who held the gun and pulled the trigger.”
“It’s my fault because I should have been there instead of him. It should have been me instead of him.”
The food I’d ingested soured in my stomach and threatened to come up at his words. “No! Why would you say that?!”
“It’s true.”
“Don’t say that, Jeremiah! I know you feel guilty, but you shouldn’t. It’s not your fault!”
A mournful groan fell from his lips and he dropped heavily onto the closed seat of the commode. He covered his face with his hands as he began to sob, his shoulders quaking.
“He didn’t deserve this. All he wanted to do was build a better relationship with his kids, but because of me, he died with them hating him. I did that to him!”
Taking advantage of the
opportunity, I wrapped my arms around his shoulders and pulled him against my bosom. He encircled my waist and let his tears fall freely as I rocked him and murmured how much he was loved and needed. For no less than fifteen minutes, we stayed that way until his sobs, then his hiccups, subsided. Remaining in his embrace, I leaned over and pulled tissue from the roll mounted on the wall, using it to dry his face of every trace of tears.
Those chestnut eyes that I loved so much tracked my every move, watching me with an inexplicable intensity that caused my panties to moisten as my core clenched. In an attempt to ignore the desire mounting inside of me, I gripped his jaw with one hand and turned his face left and right to ensure it was clear. As I started to release him, I gasped at the look in his eyes. There, as plain as day, was the same want that was surely mirrored in my own eyes. I watched as his pupils begin to dilate and unbidden, my loose hold on his chin tightened.
I heard, rather than saw, him suck in a breath before he blinked slowly. When his lids lifted, the look was gone and I felt panic rise in it’s absence. He was shutting me out! I couldn’t let that happen. Throwing caution into the wind, I lurched forward and pressed my lips against his, desperately.
Immediately, or maybe instinctively, the arms that still rested around my waist, pulled me closer to him, then unraveled as his hands came to my hips before dropping down to cup my cheeks. That was all of the encouragement I needed. I widened my legs and climbed onto his lap, moving my arms from his shoulders to his neck, cradling his head with one hand and I sighed into his mouth at the feeling of rightness washing over me.
Of their own accord, my hips undulated against him and when he groaned into my mouth, I couldn’t move fast enough to reach in between us and unbuckle his belt to shove my hand inside his pants. The moment my hands met the heated flesh in between his legs, a flood begin between my own. With years of practice in the art of handling Jeremiah, I effortlessly pulled him out of the folds of his suit pants and jacked him once, twice, before pulling the seat of my panties aside and placing him at my already moistened entrance, all while my mouth was still fused to his.
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