Playing the Hand You're Dealt

by Trice Hickman

  Gerti ignored Mother. “CJ, you want to go out back with me and put your mother’s birthday card on the cake table so all the guests can see it tonight?”

  CJ leaped up from the floor where he was sitting and bounced his head up and down with excitement. “Yeah, let’s go!”

  My son ran out the back door before Gerti could get up from her seat. After they left, the room fell silent. Just as things were starting to get uncomfortable, Daddy walked in. “Happy birthday, Sam!” He smiled as he came over and gave me a hug. “I love you, kiddo.”

  It hadn’t dawned on me until that moment that Mother hadn’t even wished me happy birthday. “Thanks, Daddy. I love you, too.”

  Dong, ding, dong, the doorbell chimed. The first guests were arriving. Mother forgot that she was pissed and manufactured an instant smile. She was about to walk out to the foyer to perform her hostess duties when she turned around and looked at me. “Where’s Emily?”

  I glanced at the big clock on the mantel as it chimed. Emily was always early, if not right on time. “Maybe that’s her now,” I replied.

  “She’s not here yet?” Daddy asked.

  One of the bow tie–clad servers welcomed the couple who had just rung the bell and escorted them to the large tent in the backyard as Mother followed on cue. I pulled out my phone to call Emily, but just as I did, it started to ring in my hand. UNKNOWN flashed across the screen and I let out a hard sigh. It was Carl. He was probably calling to wish me happy birthday, his way of trying to smooth things over. Even though it was a kind gesture, I knew that I couldn’t accept it. I had to break away from him. Tyler saw the expression on my face and looked at the phone in my hand.

  “What’s up, babe? You okay?” he asked.

  I was saved by the bell when Emily walked into the room. I hit Ignore on my phone, dropped it to the bottom of my handbag, and went over to hug my best friend. “Happy birthday, sister! We’re the big three-oooohhhh,” I cheered. We both screamed like excited little girls as we embraced.

  Emily was the stabilizing force I could rely on, and now that she was here, I knew that everything was going to be all right. So I put Carl out of my mind and didn’t think about him again until he showed up later that night . . . at the party!

  Chapter 22

  Emily . . .

  Do You Love Me?

  It was early morning. Saturday morning. My birthday morning. I was sitting on my couch drinking a cup of tea, thinking about my life and my future.

  When I was a little girl, I loved Saturday mornings more than any other day of the week. I would get up bright and early to watch all my favorite cartoons. I loved anything that involved princesses and happy endings. I would sit glued to the television, devouring a massive bowl of corn flakes while I cheered for the heroine in the story. Sure enough, every week on every cartoon, the princess would find her prince, win her struggle, save her kingdom, or overcome whatever adversity life had thrown her way. No matter the situation, there was always a happily ever after. But once my father died, I stopped eating corn flakes and watching cartoons because I realized there was no such thing as happy endings.

  I curled my feet under my hips, looking at my side table filled with pictures of my parents and me, Samantha and me, and CJ and me. My world was small, and revolved around an even smaller group of people. I was thirty years old, but I hadn’t really lived. I’d always played it safe, taken precautions, and tried to do the right things. But what had it gotten me? I was single, childless, and in love with someone who was off-limits.

  I was about to start feeling sad until my eyes landed on a picture of my parents. In the photo, they were young and in love, smiling with all the hope and idealism that made one think they could conquer the world. I knew that if either of them was sitting on the couch beside me, they would tell me to stop my moping and be thankful for what I had: good health, a great friend, a good job, a beautiful home, and another year of living under my belt with the promise of a new one in front of me. I took another sip of my tea, looked around my beautiful living room, and smiled. “Thanks, Mom and Dad. I needed that.” Even though they were gone, they were never far away.

  I got up, walked over to the front window, and watched the rain that had started to fall.The sun had been shining bright in the sky when I poured my tea ten minutes ago. In less time than it took my drink to cool, the clouds had moved in. But instead of looking at it with gloom, I saw the rain as a good sign. “The heavens have opened up, and the rain is going to wash away all the hurt and grief and replace it with new hope and new possibilities,” I whispered to myself, claiming what I wanted.

  I thought about the message I received early this morning when I woke up and saw the red light flashing on my cell phone. My heart immediately struck panic, wondering if something terrible had happened to Samantha, but when I pressed the green button I saw a simple text appear. It was from Ed.

  5:14 a.m.

  Happy Birthday, Beautiful!

  He’d sent the message at the exact moment that I turned thirty. It felt good knowing that he was thinking about me. He called me beautiful, which made me smile.

  My mind took me back to last night, and I wondered why he’d been in such a bad mood, and why he had ignored me. Hopefully, I’d find out at the party tonight.

  I stood in front of my antique floor-length mirror and gave myself a thumbs-up. I glided my hand over the raw silk fabric of my one-shoulder, ankle-length dress and smiled, pleased with the purchase I made last week from an obscure boutique. The rich color and exotic print pattern made my outfit glow against my brown skin, and the plunging back gave it a hint of sexiness. I fastened the posts of my shimmering gold earrings and watched them dangle as they accented my slender neck. Carefully, I draped my antique turquoise necklace down my back, which added just the right amount of style and color contrast to my outfit.And to complete my look, I slipped on the bronze bangles I wore last night, before sliding my feet into a pair of high-heel sandals. My ensemble was exotic yet natural, simple yet alluring, and I looked pretty . . . beautiful, as Ed had said in his text.

  I wanted to arrive at the party early so I could visit with CJ before he left for his sleepover. I walked out to the garage, put my key in the ignition, and listened to Hazel sputter. She coughed and then went flat. I tried turning the key again, but no dice. I sat for a few minutes to let the old girl settle before my next attempt. This time the engine didn’t even make a sound. Hazel was on her last leg.

  The clock was ticking so I went back inside, grabbed some money for a cab, and headed out the front door in search of one of the many taxis that always zipped up and down my street.

  I arrived at the Baldwins’ home in record time, thanks to my speed demon of a driver. After paying the fare, I raised my umbrella and dashed toward the front door. Just as I was about to ring the doorbell, a stone-faced woman greeted me.

  “Welcome to Samantha and Emily’s birthday party,” the hostess said in a bland voice.

  I told her who I was, and she walked me back to the family room where Samantha, Tyler, and Ed were gathered. Samantha jumped up and hugged me like I’d thrown her a lifeline. I knew that something was up, but I couldn’t ask questions with everyone around, so I simply reciprocated her excitement, happy to be celebrating my thirtieth birthday with my best friend.Tyler walked over and hugged me, too, then gave me a small kiss on my cheek and wished me happy birthday.

  When I looked over to Ed, he was smiling, standing by the end table with his hands in the pockets of his tan trousers. “Happy birthday, Emily.”

  I smiled at him. “Thank you.”

  “Emily, you look beautiful, and this outfit is fierce,” Samantha said, admiring my dress. “Girl, you look so good I know you’re bound to find a man tonight!”

  I glanced over at Ed out of the corner of my eye. His expression remained unchanged after hearing Samantha’s comment.

  “You look gorgeous.” I smiled at Samantha. She did look good in her little black dress and chic lizard-sk
in pumps.

  Samantha smiled nervously, directing me toward the staircase. “Let’s go upstairs so you can put your things away.” Once I put my raincoat and purse on the bed in the guest room I used to occupy, Samantha told me about the e-mail from Carl and the phone call she had just received. Even though her caller ID registered an unknown number and no message had been left, she knew it was Carl. I had a bad feeling that he was going to show up here unexpectedly, just as he did my first night in town. I wished she had never mentioned this party to him the night they’d slept together last month. And now I knew she did, too. “Do you think he’ll try to crash the party?” I asked.

  “Girl, I sure hope not. I pray he’ll stay away. He knows that my parents and all my family will be here, and he’s uncomfortable around them,” Samantha reasoned. “Plus, the event planner has her staff posted at the door. No invitation, no entrance to the party,” she said.

  I prayed for her sake that she was right.

  As we headed downstairs we ran into CJ and Ms. Gerti, who were on their way up. “Happy Birthday, Auntie Emee!” CJ shouted. I gave him a big kiss, and Samantha and I promised to save him some birthday cake from the party.

  “I love you, CJ, and I’ll see you tomorrow when we go out for ice cream,” Samantha said, hugging her son before Ms. Gerti carted him off to get his small overnight bag.

  I was glad to see that Samantha was making an effort to become more involved in CJ’s life. I squeezed her hand. “You’re going to do great.”

  She smiled. “Finally.”

  When we returned downstairs, Ed, Uncle Ross, and Tyler were huddled together, talking sports. Then a minute later I heard the sliding glass door open as Brenda breezed into the room. She was beautiful, the picture of sophistication in her beige cocktail dress, accompanied by a pair of shoes that had to have cost almost as much as my mortgage payment. Her hair was perfectly coiffed with not a strand out of place. It was as if she had just stepped out of her stylist’s chair instead of the stuffy humidity outside. And as always, her makeup was flawless.

  I stood statue-still as she walked up to me and delivered one of her signature perfect air-kisses in the direction of my right cheek. I watched Ed over her shoulder, and not to my surprise, he met my stare. He paid close attention to our interaction, but his eyes were blank, and it made me wonder what he was thinking. Whatever his thoughts, he turned away.

  “Emily, it’s so good to see you, dear.” Brenda smiled before she turned to Samantha, gesturing for her to join us. “Come, girls, it’s time to greet your guests.”

  Ed continued to eye me as Brenda led us to the tent-covered garden. Once outside, I was amazed by the beautiful sight before me. The Baldwins’ backyard looked like a magical place out of a fairy tale—like the faraway lands I used to lose myself in on Saturday mornings when I sat in front of the TV with my bowl of corn flakes, rooting for the princess.

  Hundreds of bright, clear lights were strung loosely across the tent’s ceiling, casting a soft glow over the lush flora and fauna that Brenda had cultivated. The wonderful smell of exotic flowers was enough to make you close your eyes and think you were in paradise, and the three-piece band playing smooth jazz had everyone swaying to the beat of their sound. The caterers had set up a huge food station with offerings that looked so delicious they were certain to satisfy even the most finicky of eaters.

  In lieu of birthday gifts, I had asked that donations be made to charity. Samantha thought it was a good idea and agreed to follow suit. So, prominently displayed in the middle of the gift table was a big, mock-up check, like the kind you see on the sweepstakes commercials, made out to the local MS Society in the amount of $25,000. It was because of Brenda’s vigorous fund-raising efforts that this was even possible. I was overwhelmed with emotion.

  I turned to her. “Thank you. I appreciate your kindness and generosity more than you know. This donation will go a long way toward helping people so they won’t have to suffer the way my mother did. You’ve truly made this a birthday I’ll never forget,” I said loudly. I normally spoke in a soft tone, but I wanted to deliver my thanks at a volume high enough to drown out my guilt. I had just lusted after her husband not two minutes ago, in spite of the fact that she’d thrown me the most extravagant party I would probably ever have. And on top of all that, she’d selflessly raised money to help eradicate a terrible disease. I felt lower than dirt.

  “Emily, there’s nothing I wouldn’t do for the people I love. It’s all about giving.” Brenda smiled. She actually touched my cheek with hers, sacrificing her perfect makeup. It was a first, and it made me feel even lower.

  Samantha stood over to the side and rolled her eyes. I could see that she wasn’t touched or impressed. Tyler whispered into her ear, probably trying to calm her down before she said something inappropriate. Brenda ignored Samantha’s glare, took my hand, and walked me over to meet some ladies from a local charity. By now, Samantha and Tyler were headed to the other side of the tent, straight for the bar.

  I was relieved when I saw Ruben and Roger in the crowd. They had trudged through the rain to help me celebrate. “Oh, E-mi-lee, this party is to die for!” Ruben gushed as he twirled around under the lights with a champagne flute in his hand.

  “Happy birthday.” Roger smiled, planting a kiss on my cheek.

  Samantha and I cut our cake, received a heartfelt birthday toast from Brenda and Ed, and then we each went up to the mic and thanked everyone for coming. An hour later the party was in high-octane mode. It was still raining hard, but the beautiful setting, bountiful food, and abundance of alcohol kept everyone’s spirits high. As I surveyed the tent, I couldn’t believe the large crowd of people flowing throughout.There were nearly a hundred people in the backyard and about thirty milling around the first floor inside.

  I was trying to have a good time; after all, it was my birthday. And as Ruben had said, the party was to die for. But as I watched Brenda with Ed hovering close by her side, smiling and laughing with guests as they worked the crowd, I felt a sharp stab in the pit of my stomach. He was her husband, so it only seemed fitting that they socialize as a couple. I knew that. And I knew that I had no right to be upset. But when I looked up again and saw Ed holding his arm around Brenda’s waist as they greeted another couple, I felt a part of me melt away.Then anger and resentment took over.

  My mind went back to the way Ed had practically seduced me at school the other day, then to his strange behavior last night—ignoring me one minute and then sending me a thoughtful text message hours later. I felt like a fool being strung along on a back-and-forth ride to nowhere. When he glanced in my direction, I shot him a look that could’ve struck down lightning. “I’ve got to get out of here,” I whispered to myself.

  I headed inside to get my things and call a cab. I climbed the stairs and was on my way to the guest bedroom when halfway down the hall I heard the voice that made my heart beat fast.

  “Why aren’t you out there enjoying your party, birthday girl?” Ed asked.

  I was upset with him and I was sure he knew, otherwise he wouldn’t have taken the risk of following me here. I turned around to face him, trying to find a place for my eyes to rest other than on his. They settled on the John Biggers painting on the wall behind him. “I’m going home. I just need to get my things.” I didn’t want to give him an explanation beyond that.

  “But the party’s in full swing.”

  “All the more reason for you to go back so you can continue socializing with your wife.” I knew it was a childish thing to say, but it was what I felt.

  “Emily,” he said softly. “What you saw down there was obligation, nothing more.”

  “If that’s what you say.” I turned and began to walk away.

  “Wait,” he said as he reached for my arm, stopping me in my tracks. His touch felt warm and inviting. “Why won’t you look at me?”

  Instead of answering him I turned away and focused my eyes on the guest bedroom at the end of the hall. I knew that if I
could make it to safety on the other side of that door, I’d be able to gather my thoughts. I tried to walk away, but my feet felt as though they were stuck in cement. Ed faced me, still holding my arm, forcing me to look at him.This time I cast my eyes down to my feet.

  “Emily, why won’t you look at me?”

  “I can’t.”

  “Why not?”

  “You know why.”

  “Do you love me?” he asked, softly.

  I couldn’t answer. I had to get away from him. Shaken, I walked toward the room I had slept in only weeks ago—he followed. After what seemed like a mile, I reached the door and put my hand on the chrome-plated knob. He stood close behind me, his body leaning into mine. I could feel his chest on my back and his cool lips on my bare shoulder as he bent his head and delivered a gentle kiss to my skin. “Ed, please don’t.” I trembled.

  “I love you, Emily,” he whispered into my ear.

  He put his hand over mine, turned the knob, and pushed as he opened the door. I thought I’d find safety once I reached the other side, but now all I felt was panic. Ed closed the door behind us and repeated his question. “Do you love me?”

  I thought about his dutiful wife socializing outside, about my loyal best friend partying in the backyard and the chain of events that would follow if I reached out and seized the moment. My rational mind said no, but everything else inside me said yes. My back was pressed against the door and Ed’s body was close to mine. He took a step forward and leaned into me until I felt his strong chest against my breasts, and the intoxicating heat that arose from our bodies. I inhaled the robust scent of his cologne and the faint hint of wine on his breath. His hand moved toward my face, his fingers resting under my chin as he lifted my head toward his lips. “I said I love you, Emily,” he whispered again, leaning in as I held my breath.