Sunday Brunch

by Norma L. Jarrett

  Jermane shifted in her seat. “Come on, leave Lexi alone.”

  “Yeah, let's just drop it.”

  “So, Jermane, are you going to have a rendezvous with old Zorro?” Jewel asked.

  “What Rex doesn't know won't hurt him,” Angel added.

  “I would never think of cheating on Rex. Whatever problems we have can be worked out. Cheating's not the answer to anything,” she said.

  “I agree Jermane,” Antonio said over our heads. “More coffee, ladies?” We nodded. He poured.

  “Problems,” Jewel said with a frown. “What problems could you be having? You have a fine, rich husband, a huge house, excellent credit, a housekeeper, and you take trips to exotic places. What more could you want?”

  “It's the simple things in life that mean the most,” Jermane said. “I don't want to get into it.”

  That was Jewel's cue to shut up. For once, she took it.

  I looked at my watch. “Well girls, I've got work to do,” I said as I took my last sip of coffee.

  “Yep, time to be out,” Capri said, patting her stomach.

  “Capri, you eat all the time and never gain weight.”

  “Jewel, don't hate. It comes natural, baby.”

  “Okay, I'll give you that. But if you don't get with the program, someone's going to snatch up Mr. Stan-ton. He's one of Houston's most eligible bachelors,” Jewel said.

  “Well, it won't be you,” Capri said. “I think he's at least intelligent enough to know a gold digger when he sees one.”

  Jewel shut up again.

  Capri gave Tony a quick glance on the way out, but he didn't see her. We walked outside and exchanged hugs. Jermane agreed to take Jewel home, while I would take Capri.

  “Lexi, give me a call when you get home later tonight,” Angel said.

  When we reached my car, I noticed a note attached to the windshield.

  “Capri, there's a note for you,” I said.

  “What? Let me see,” she said.

  She opened it, read it, and almost put it in her purse, but let it fall to the ground instead, where it was left floating in a shallow puddle of water.

  “What was that?” I asked.

  “Just a note from Mr. Stanton.”

  “I don't understand you Capri. He seems decent. You need to give him a chance,” I said.

  “Lexi, you really don't get it. Just leave it alone for now,” she said.

  “Alright, but you need to ease up. Life doesn't have to be so serious,” I said as we got in the car.

  “Yeah, yeah, yeah.”

  I dropped the subject, started the engine, and drove out of the parking lot.

  generally love the serenity of Sunday nights, but these past ones had been too quiet. There'd been too much time to think, too much time to worry, evaluate, and wonder. Sunday evenings were becoming a prime time for me to go under.

  I was stretched out on my couch, still feeling warm and lazy from my bath. I rolled up in a fetal position and took in the silence. I tried to recall the last time I felt loved and cared for.

  Mom's birthday is coming up soon. I wish I could touch her, feel her hugs, and tell her that I love her. Lord, I'm giving so much out, but nothing's coming back in. What's the use. Nothing's going to make me feel that type of love again.

  I suppressed the threatening depression and stretched my legs out again. I grabbed the radio remote and turned to my favorite station. The quiet storm … not tonight.

  The phone's ringing saved me from my heavy mood. I grabbed the receiver and hoped that someone was calling with a problem that would take my mind off my own.

  “Lex, hey, it's Angel. What're you doing?”

  “Just relaxing. What's up?” I asked.

  “Umm, just needed to talk. I'm feeling a little rundown. You always have something positive to say. I guess I'm a little depressed.”

  Girl, me too.

  “Hey, it happens to the best of us.”

  “I just feel kind of blah, like my emotions are getting the best of me. I'm tired of these corporate games. Then, on top of that, I haven't been feeling my best self lately.”

  “Have you gone to the doctor?” I asked.

  “No. I'm kind of scared to go. You know they always find something wrong with you,” she said. “If something's wrong, I'd rather not know. But it'll be time for my annual exam soon.”

  “Angel, you can't let fear rob you of your health. It's your responsibility to take care of yourself. Please don't take your health for granted. You know I'm gonna worry until I hear you went and got yourself checked out.”

  Angel paused for a few minutes. “So Lexi, let me ask you something. How do you do it?” Her tone sounded as if she'd been holding in the question for a while.

  “Do what?”

  “Stay so freakin' up all the time. I mean, I'm such a mess. We all have our problems, but you still remain up.”

  “Me? Up all the time?” I said. “Please girl, you should see me around here sometimes. I've just made up my mind that I'm not going to accept defeat. I want heaven right here on earth. Besides, if I didn't have God in my life, I don't know what I would do. It's adaily thing, 'cause there's always some challenge around the corner.

  “Believe me, I have my days,” I continued. I suddenly realized that now was my time to do some informal preaching to Angel. “I try my best just to focus on God's power because I know I can't make it by my strength alone. Sometimes I do struggle, but I try my best to put it all in God's hands. I try to confess His words. Philippians 4:13 says, ‘I can do all things through Christ, who strengthens me.’ It's not His will for us to live defeated and depressed. We often get that way when we put our trust in the wrong things, and those things either disappoint us or get taken away. But God relieves.”

  “Hmmmm. Lexi, I've never been a very spiritual person. Honestly, it's just so hard for me to believe. Religion was never a big thing in our family. I always thought that when you had money, all your problems would be solved. But there's been … I don't know how to put it … it feels like something's missing, like there's an emptiness inside of me,” Angel said.

  “God can fill that void,” I said, surprised at how much of the Word was inside of me.

  “Lexi, I've always felt so much in control of my life, like no one or nothing could control me. But lately I've been feeling like I want somebody to take care of me.”

  “Angel, you've been so independent since your divorce. It's OK and natural to feel vulnerable and needy every now and then. That's fine,” I said.

  “I guess. It's so hard for me to connect with people. Maybe that's why it's difficult for me to get back into a relationship. Trusting someone with this heart is tough.”

  “Girl, you know not many men deserve that type of trust. But with love, you have to take chances. You have to open yourself up to love while being wise about who you allow into your world and if they can accept your strengths and weaknesses. And remember, Angel, God loves you. You're special to Him. He loves you the way you are.”

  “I don't know. It seems like you have to be perfect to be a Christian,” she said. “And I ain't trying to be a hypocrite.”

  “God meets us at the place where we are right now. He allows us to grow in His grace and knowledge. He never expects us to be perfect. That's why we have Jesus Christ.”

  “Honestly, Lexi, I'm still not buying all of this. There's a lot of stuff I don't understand.”

  “Then come to church with me,” I blurted.

  “Well … maybe one Sunday I'll go. But your church sounds so big and overwhelming,” Angel said.

  “Just visit once. I promise, it'll be worthwhile.”

  “I'll think about it. I'm going to get off this phone. It's getting late. Lexi, thank you. I really needed a listening ear. I'll call you sometime this week.”

  “Oh, alright. I hope I helped.”

  “Yeah. Yes, you did. Talk to you later.”

  Angel had never sounded like that before and had never allowed m
e to talk to her about God without quickly changing the subject. I was worried.

  Two of my friends were going through changes. I started to wonder if any of us were truly happy. What is true happiness anyway?

  It was all starting to feel too deep, too heavy, so I decided to go to bed early again. Once I got to my bedroom, I grabbed the white fluffy teddy bear I'd gotten for Valentine's Day one year and buried myself underneath the comforter. I'm almost 30 years old and sleeping with a teddy bear. Part of me didn't want to grow up. I didn't want bills or responsibility. I didn't want to go to work every day. I wanted to be held, spoiled, and suffocated with love.

  Then I thought about what I'd told Angel about God. I put in CeCe Winans's album Alone in His Presence. I wanted the soft music to fill the air. Following my own advice, I started confessing scriptures. The last words I heard before I dozed off were “His strength is perfect …”

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  apri, there's a delivery for you at the receptionist desk. Shall I send them up?” her assistant, Amelia, asked.

  “Yes, I guess. I didn't order anything. Is it an express package?”

  “No, not quite.”

  “Well, OK, send it up.”

  “Now what could this be?” Capri mumbled to herself as she tried to recall anything she should be expecting. The deliveryman soon appeared at her door.

  “Ms. Capricia Sterling? I have a delivery for you. Can you please sign here?”

  “Oh, yes.”

  The pink box stood about three feet high and was about three feet wide. She opened the box.

  “What? I don't believe this …,” she muttered as a bundle of multicolored balloons floated to the ceiling. There was a card in the bottom of the box.

  From what I've seen so far and from what little I know, I'd like to know more. Give me one chance and you'll never regret it.

  Yours in Christ,

  Anthony M. Stanton

  “God! Men are even using Jesus as part of their rap now!”

  Then she looked at the balloons and smiled on the inside. After a slight pause, she stuffed the balloons in the box and pushed them in the corner. Then she grinned.

  I'll at least take them home. It's a sweet gesture, but he won't be knocking on these panties.

  CHAPTER NINE

  exi, Capri is on line one,” Ms. Hobby said.

  “Hey, girl, what's going on?” I asked as I jumped up and shut my office door.

  “Hey, you'll never guess who sent me what today?”

  “What? You know I'm not good at guessing,” I said.

  “Your friend, Mr. Anthony Stanton, sent me a balloon bouquet.”

  “Whaaaaaat? Capri, girl, don't blow this. What is up with you?”

  “Calm down. I'm starting to get the impression that he's not like other pro athletes, but he is a man.”

  “And …?”

  “Well, Lex, it's complicated. I'm just not one for long-term commitment.”

  “Who said anything about marrying him. Just go out on a date with the brother.”

  “Well, I just don't know. All that attention he gets, no privacy-it's just not me. You know I'm low key except for when it comes to handling my business as a lawyer,” she said. “Uh-oh, gotta go! Boss-man's ringing. I'll call you.”

  She hung up.

  “Darn, just when it was getting good,” I said as I hung up the phone.

  I saw Terrance pass by my glass wall and got an instant attitude. He was always sneaking around, trying to get in my personal business.

  Not in a million years. He's cool to share office space with, but he's a bit overbearing. Besides, we have absolutely no chemistry. Chemistry is very important.

  CHAPTER TEN

  ngel sat in the pale blue chair rubbing her hands together. She reached in her purse for a cigarette, realized where she was, and pulled out a stick of gum instead. She looked around the room. Following the protocol of the other patients, she buried her head in a magazine. She was nervous.

  Angel hated having her annual exam because she feared they'd find something wrong. But over the past year, her cycles were becoming extraordinarily painful. Sometimes her cramps would be debilitating. She hoped it was just age.

  She thought of Octavio and their plans for an early dinner after her appointment. She started to feel a little more relaxed.

  Since her divorce, Octavio was one of the few male friends she had. There were other men in her life, but she would only bother with them when she wanted to have sex. Octavio was different. They laughed and chatted freely. She was sort of his mentor. She started fidgeting.

  What if something is really wrong? Maybe God is punishing me for not going to church. That's just like God, interrupting a good thing. You could be minding your own business, living good … and boom, He drops a bomb on you!

  “Ms. Capers?”

  A medium-height woman with mousy blond hair scanned the room.

  “Yes, that's me,” Angel said.

  “Yes, how are you today, Ms. Capers?” the nurse asked in a somewhat rehearsed but sincere tone.

  “I'm alright.”

  “Will you step back here?”

  After the nurse weighed her and took her urine sample, Dr. Parish finally made her way to the room. She listened to Angel's heartbeat and began probing. Angel then assumed “the position” and stared at the ceiling. Although this was routine by this point, Angel had never really gotten used to it.

  “So, how have you been feeling?” Dr. Parish questioned.

  “For the most part, I'm doing fine.”

  Dr. Parish gave her a look.

  “Ms. Capers, if you don't let me know what's going on, I can't help. Like I tell all my other patients, ‘You know your body better than anyone else.’”

  “Well, over the past six months my cramps have been almost unbearable. I've had to take a day off of work during my last two cycles. I've never felt this much pain during my period.”

  “Hmmm, well, don't panic yet. Our bodies go through many changes. We'll see what your Pap smear says. If you need more testing, we'll do that. Are you more tired than usual?”

  “Yeah, all the time.”

  “Have your periods been longer than usual? Any constipation?”

  Angel nodded her head twice.

  “Hmm. Well, could be fibroids, but we'll see. For now, try not to worry.”

  “Fibroids?”

  “Yes. Fibroids are tumors that actually appear quite frequently among Black women. Sometimes there are no symptoms, but based on your answers to my questions, that may be the issue. Have you been under a lot of stress lately?”

  “A little more at work.”

  “You haven't stopped smoking yet?”

  Angel hesitated. “I'm cutting back.”

  “Angel, again, until we know for sure, try not to worry.”

  “I won't. I'm pretty healthy. I haven't had any major problems. So I'll just wait to hear from you. But what if I do have tumors?”

  The doctor took a deep breath. “Depending on how bad they are, there are a number of treatments. Sometimes we do hormone treatments, but in severe cases, a myomectomy or hysterectomy is necessary.”

  Angel tried to take this all in. “Wow. That sounds extreme.”

  “As I said, Angel, let's wait until we get your lab work back before we hit the panic button, okay?”

  “Yeah.” Angel felt unsettled. Hysterectomy? No, everything is just fine.

  “Alright. As soon as we get your results, we'll give you a call. In the meantime, try harder to cut back on the smoking.”

  ngel slid on her shades and jumped in her car. She dodged through the city traffic and headed toward the freeway to get downtown. She put the doctor's appointment behind her and thought about Octavio. She noticed how warm it was for the wintertime. She turned her air conditioner on low and tuned into 90.9 KTSU to hear a little jazz.

  Angel parked her car and decided she would relax in the nearby park since she was early. After walking across the grass
, she sat on a bench close to a huge waterfall. A slight mist from the water sprinkled her face.

  She noticed a couple sprawled out on a blanket, hugging and kissing.

  Please, get a room.

  Then more couples and dogs paraded by. She smiled as a husband and wife with two toddlers strolled by. There was lots of carefree laughter. But loneliness deflated her body. She felt numb and tried to remember the last time she felt joy.

  A child's little red ball rolled over and bumped against her shoe. Angel held the ball just so she could look into the eyes of the child who ran to her to retrieve it.

  ngel studied the menu as her hunger pangs grew. She'd skipped breakfast because she was nervous about going to the doctor. Just as she looked up, she saw Octavio standing at the door of the restaurant.

  The Backdoor Bourbon Street was their favorite eatery. They always craved its Cajun-style Creole food and looked forward to each visit there. The waiter pointed in the direction of her table.

  As she watched Octavio walking toward the table, he appeared to move in slow motion. She also noticed other women staring at him. She'd thought he was attractive, but thought of him more as a little brother. But seeing him today stirred something inside.

  His skin was a deep, dark olive, baby smooth. His black hair was slicked back and blended seamlessly into his black mock turtleneck. Clad in cream-colored pants, he had the sexiest walk and a smile that complemented his thin moustache.

  “Hey, Angel,” he said as he sat down.

  “Hey, bud,” Angel said. She rewound her mind to friendship mode.

  “You look good,” he said, bending over to gaze at the entirety of her outfit-a white Lycra camisole and a black pants suit.

  “I do? You're tripping,” she said. “You know what you're going to order?”

  “You know, my usual, blackened shrimp and dirty rice,” Octavio replied.

  “I think I'll have the same.”

  “So what's up, Angel? Talk to a brother.”

  “First of all, you're not a brother,” she retorted.