As we walked into the café the hostess asked us if we wanted to dine alfresco, and we answered yes in unison. She laughed, escorting us to an intimate corner. We took our time savoring every bite of our Cajun comfort food and relaxed while watching the sun go down. As Jaye commented about the great food, I began to silently count the days that he would be with me. If today was any indication, it was a start to what I imagined would be an incredible week—some quality time and a great chance to get closer as a couple.
The climate of the French Quarter began to “heat up” as we were ordering dessert. The jazz music that spilled out of the bars lining the street seemed to be dialed up a few notches; people were dancing pretty much wherever they wanted. The quick change in the atmosphere made me nervous.
“This place is feeling a little creepy, don’t you think? It’s like all of a sudden the vibe shifted,” I said.
Jaye seemed oblivious as he took another bite of his bread pudding. “I did notice the music has gotten louder, that’s about it. This is a big party town, you know. People come from all over . . .”
For an instant I tuned him out. How can I still be sensitive to spiritual things when my heart is so cold toward God? Ever since I was a little girl, I had been exposed to not just light but darkness, too. There was clearly something very dark in the air, and it was making me uneasy as Jaye was talking.
“Could you ever live here?” I asked him, always wishing the subject of our future might come up.
“It’s okay, but I don’t think so. I’m used to New York.”
I reacted without really thinking, an independent spirit surfacing. “Well, as for me, I feel like I can live pretty much anywhere. I have to say the people I’ve met here at school are really nice.”
“That, I wouldn’t know,” he responded abruptly.
“You wouldn’t know what?”
“What the students are like.”
“But I introduced you to some students the first time you visited me. What did you think of them?”
“Oh, you mean those guys? Those guys who obviously liked you? They were fake, in my opinion, and you never even introduced me to them as your boyfriend.”
“Jaye, how could I? Things would get back to my parents.”
“And?”
“And? How can you even ask me that? Are you forgetting what I’ve been through . . . all the stories I’ve conjured up, all the lies I’ve told?”
“Well, just tell them, then. I’m tired of this.”
“Tell them? Why don’t you tell them? Then again, you’ve never even had a conversation with my dad! And you sure didn’t have a problem with me lying to them.”
“You should quiet down,” he said. “Maybe this wasn’t a good idea, me coming down here. You should have gone home to be with your parents.” His words were paralyzing. I didn’t want him to leave.
“No, no, no! I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to get upset. We are going to have such a great week! Forget I even said it . . . please!”
The ride to his hotel was very tense, even though I did everything I could to lighten things.
“Hey, I have a great idea for breakfast tomorrow!” I looked over at him, and his body language was clearly letting me know that he really didn’t want to talk. I churned inside, fighting what was going on in my mind. The fact that he was upset made me so angry. I had given him everything, and he was disappointed in me? But my desperate need to keep him happy so that he wouldn’t leave me ruled the moment. “Jaye, really. I’m so sorry. You’ve taken time off to come here and be with me. Today was such a great day, and I let it end in an argument. That was so stupid of me.”
“Well, I’m thinking about leaving tomorrow, so just call me in the morning,” he said as he opened the door to get out.
“No, really, Jaye. Let’s just forget about this, please?” My voice began to crack. He grabbed his suitcase from the backseat without saying a word. I lowered the window. “Jaye, please don’t leave like this . . . please forgive me.”
He paused a second, put his bag down, and leaned on the door, sticking his head in the window. “Chris, get a good night’s rest and I’ll see you in the morning, okay?”
“Okay.” He looked me in the eyes and then walked away.
Slowly driving off, I pushed the button to close the window and grabbed the steering wheel tightly. A surge of tears streamed down my face, so strong that I couldn’t see the road.
Weariness seeped into my bones and left me feeling drained and hopeless. “Don’t leave!” My voice echoed, frustrated and hopeless in the empty car. “You can’t leave. I’ve done this for you!” I couldn’t catch my breath, all at once consumed by everything I had done. Losing my virginity over the summer, psyching myself up to move away from home, sensing the students distancing themselves from me, hiding Jaye every time he came to visit, and most of all, living with the endless anxiety of being “less” than what Jaye really wanted.
My sobbing became broken whimpers that eventually bled into the silence of the car and the darkness surrounding me. The roads were pitch black and empty, and the thought of my car breaking down was horrifying, adding to my mounting fear. I turned on the music, trying to create a cocoon that would soothe my jagged emotions. About halfway through my favorite song, “Moon over Bourbon Street,” the haunting notes began to lull my internal storm into perfect silence, as if I had entered the eye of the storm. In that moment, romance and soft feelings were stripped away, and the words struck a chord in me:
I was trapped in this life . . .
I can never show my face.
It was as though Sting was giving me a prophetic message of who I was quickly becoming. The darkness of the night became even more menacing. I popped the cassette out and hoped Jaye wouldn’t ask to play it again. My favorite song was no longer my favorite; I couldn’t bear to hear Sting’s voice for a while.
Jaye stayed for the next four days. We didn’t get into any more bad arguments, although it did get tense at times. On his last night with me, I lost track of time and left him at his hotel at 2:15 a.m., exceeding my curfew by more than three hours. The campus felt desolate, and only the parking lot lights were illuminated as I pulled into a spot. I ran from my car to the entrance of my dorm and yanked on the glass door. It was locked. There was a student at the security desk, and I waved to get his attention, mouthing, Can you let me in?
As he turned the lock and opened the door, I smiled. “Thanks so much . . . sorry to bother you.” He looked at me with a strange expression but didn’t say anything, which I thought was rude.
I am so ready for a good night’s sleep. I got off the elevator on my floor; the hallway was quiet and dimly lit as I dug in my purse for my room key. Yet as I walked toward my room, I noticed light coming from under my door.
That’s weird. I never leave my lights on. I turned my key in the lock and pushed the door open. When I walked into the room, the blood drained from my face. The dean of students sat perfectly straight on the edge of my bed, waiting for me. There were boxes stacked next to her. She looked at me with cold disapproval. “Chrissy, I’m sorry, but you are being dismissed. I’ve called your parents. It’s very unfortunate, the decisions you’ve made, but you cannot continue your studies here anymore. Your father is expecting a call from you.”
She sighed and walked out without a backward glance.
I COULDN’T MOVE. The shock seized my voice, and I couldn’t even let out a cry. My eyes swept through the room, and I began to shudder at how stark and bare it was. Everything had been stripped away from my walls, my dresser, my desk, my closet, and even my bed. The phone sat on a bare desk, and for the first time I was gripped by a fear of my parents because I had never been in trouble before.
What am I going to say to my dad? What is he going to say to me? My heart stuttered, beating hard in my chest as I slowly walked to the phone.
Taking a deep breath, I picked up the receiver and braced myself. My hand was shaking as I dialed my parents’ number. Dad
picked up on the first ring.
“Chrissy?” Hearing my dad’s worried tone, I could imagine him hunched over his desk in the den, tears streaming down his face.
“Yes, Daddy.”
“Your mom and I can’t even . . . They called us, but why, Chrissy? How could you do this?” He was completely blindsided by what I had done.
My voice faltered. “I’m so sorry.”
“They told us everything. We know you had that guy down there. What’s his name, Chrissy?” The pain in his voice was like nothing I had ever heard. It was as if his worst fear had come to life and was clutching his neck, keeping him from breathing.
“Jaye.” I was scared because I was exposed. I strained to hear his next words.
“I had a warning in my spirit about him, Chrissy. What was he doing down there? And what did you . . . ?” He stopped. At that moment, I knew what he wanted to ask but there was no way I could bring myself to say it out loud. “Why, Chrissy? Why? How long has this been going on? What have we done that you couldn’t tell us the truth?”
My dad’s strong voice was now broken whispers over the phone line. It was as if I had reached through the phone and punched him in the face.
“Daddy, I’m so sorry.”
As soon as I said that, something rose up in me, and I was overcome by a need to defend Jaye, to make my dad understand. My words rushed out in a stream of tears, “But Daddy, it wasn’t him . . . it was me! I promise! I made him come down. It was all my fault—”
“Listen to me . . .” Dad cut me off calmly and quietly, the protector in him rising up. The little girl in me who needed her dad obeyed. “Someone will be coming to pick you up and stay with you until Mom and I figure out what to do. Give your car keys to the person.” His voice began to break again. “I have to go take care of your mom now. I’ll call you in the morning.”
He paused. I couldn’t tell if he wanted to say more, then I heard, “Good-bye, Chrissy.”
“Bye, Daddy, I’m—” The dial tone hummed in my ear as I whispered, “Sorry. I’m so sorry.” His silence was heart-wrenching, and it broke me. I expected anger and even indignation for all the lies I’d told. I would have preferred that reaction.
The last thing I wanted to do was see my mom and dad suffer because of me. Pleasing them had always been the top priority of my life. But I loved Jaye. He had become my life. I needed him. What’s going to happen? Will they ever let me see him again? Will they ever let me out of their sight? I faced the most difficult choice of my life: my parents or Jaye.
A battle raged inside me. On the one hand, the thought of hurting my mom and dad was devastating. I couldn’t get the pain in my dad’s voice out of my mind. I was causing them so much anguish, and yet I couldn’t turn my back on Jaye. The conflict inside me was relentless, driving me nearly insane. I loved my parents, but I didn’t want to change. In that moment, something cold encased my heart. I really didn’t care who I hurt because I made my choice. I wanted what I wanted. I was going to be with Jaye, whatever the cost.
It was a whirlwind transition out of Bible college. Despite my parents’ best efforts to provide for me, I defied them at every step. I believed my destiny was to be with Jaye so I took matters into my own hands. I found a woman in Queens who was willing to let me share an apartment with her until I could get on my own two feet. I contacted a temp agency, and soon after, I received my first assignment. Four weeks later, I was still at the same job and things couldn’t have been better.
Walking up the steps from the subway station in Manhattan during the morning rush hour, I merged into the crowd of people making their way up and down Fifth Avenue. The mass of bodies streamed off into gleaming skyscrapers that grazed the clear blue sky. I felt an energy as I walked alongside people who looked like wealthy business executives. Tap, tap, swish—the tapping of high-priced shoes and the swish of expensive leather cases brushing against overcoats created a rhythm in my head that captured the mood of the morning frenzy.
I followed the numbers along the block until I finally arrived at my destination: 767 General Motors Building. Tilting my head back, I looked up at the structure stretching up to what seemed to be a mile high and across the whole city block. I pushed the glass revolving door and entered an enormous lobby with marble floors that led to elevators with gold-trimmed doors. People swept past me and squeezed into the packed elevators while I soaked up being in the middle of all the glamour. When I arrived at my floor, the elevator doors glided open and I stepped out. Poster-sized images of well-known models’ faces on the walls framed the reception desk of the company where I worked.
Around midmorning, I glanced up from the report I was typing when I heard a door open. The executive walked out of her office and began talking to another executive in the hallway. I was amazed by her casually chic look, which had to have cost a small fortune. I straightened up in my chair as they approached my desk.
“Hey, how’s it going?” She seemed genuinely interested in making sure I was fitting in with her team. “Were you able to finish that first document?”
I reached over and pulled a manila file folder from the stack on my desk. “Yes, here it is. I’m actually halfway through the second.”
“Good work, Chrissy.” She smiled and leaned her hip on the edge of my desk. “Well, now that you’ve blazed through your work, do you have any exciting plans this weekend?” I was pleased by her compliment and the special attention I was getting. We chatted for a few minutes, and then she disappeared into her office for a conference call. I was still stunned by where I was.
How in the world did this happen? And why me? When the temp agency said they had “just the place for me,” I had no idea I would end up working for one of the largest cosmetic companies in the world: Estée Lauder.
Each day had been exciting so far, and this one was no different. The hours flew by, and I hadn’t even noticed what time it was, until a stunning sunset filled the wall-to-wall window I could see from where I was sitting.
The executive’s office door opened again, and she strolled out with her leather briefcase slung over her shoulder. “Hey, what are you still doing here? You’re free to leave early on Fridays.”
Trying my best not to seem overeager, I reached up and tucked a strand of hair behind my ear. “Really?”
“Definitely. And by the way, those bags on your desk are full of samples we want our employees to test before they are released. I hope you enjoy them.” She smiled as she made her way to the elevators. “Have a good one! See you Monday.”
“You too,” I called out as she disappeared. I turned around and picked up the phone. I grew anxious with each ring, wondering why no one was picking up. My heart fluttered.
“Hello?”
I relaxed when I heard his voice. “Jaye, you’ll never guess what happened today! A coworker told me that this isn’t just a temp job, that they’re actually considering me for a full-time position. Isn’t this incredible?”
“Mhhmm. Yeah, that’s great.”
Why isn’t he more excited for me? What is he doing?
“Well, anyway, what are you doing now? Where’ve you been today? What time do you want to meet?” He seemed distracted, which always made me feel like I needed to try harder.
“I had to take care of some things today,” he said. “We can meet up later at your place.”
My stomach tightened, and I began to feel more nervous.
“Maybe I can meet you now and we can grab dinner? I don’t mind running errands with you.” As I said good-bye, I quickly grabbed my coat and rushed to the elevator. At that moment, nothing else was more important than getting to him.
Over the next week I thought a lot about the possibility of working full time in the corporate headquarters of Estée Lauder. It would be a dream come true. But since Jaye worked evenings and the only time we could be together was during the day, I felt extremely uneasy. I was aware that passing over such an opportunity was crazy, especially since I was coming in without
any experience or a degree. If I missed this big break, what hope did I have of all this happening again?
The office was buzzing on the following Wednesday morning since Estée Lauder’s daughter company Prescriptives was releasing a fragrance that they hoped would take the industry by storm. I was still blown away that I was in the midst of the inner circle and privy to this kind of creativity. My love for all things fashion made what I was doing all day not seem like work at all. As I typed up the drafts that my manager gave me of each product’s description, I considered myself part of the creative process for the very makeup that I used.
Pulling the last sheet of paper out of the electric typewriter, I saw two people out of the corner of my eye walking out of my manager’s office. A few moments later, she peeked her head out and asked me to join her.
“Chrissy, have a seat.” She was smiling from ear to ear, which was unusual—she was typically intense when it came to our work. “I am so excited about this. It is very rare when an opportunity opens up here for someone like you without any formal training. Well, hold on to your seat, because I am officially inviting you to be part of our staff. I am pleased to offer you a full-time position.”
She reached over and handed me a contract with the terms of employment and my salary. “Congratulations, Chrissy.”
“Umm . . .” I stammered and tried to find the right words. “I’m so sorry, but uh, I have some things going on in my life right now that are preventing me from being able to accept this.”
Her smile disappeared and her eyes widened slightly. Conflicting thoughts raged in my mind. What is going on in your life, Chrissy? What could possibly stop you from taking this? Then again . . . that’s a lot of hours for him to be on his own. Do you really trust him? There are plenty of girls around this city. What will stop him from going out on you, from finding someone else?
I thanked her for the generous offer, but that final voice had settled my decision. Two days later—my last day of work—I walked out of the GM Building resolved to sacrifice anything to remain close to Jaye.
Girl in the Song Page 11
