The Sunday Brunch Diaries

by Norma L. Jarrett

  “Yeah, but the investment property was in the Third Ward, and the value is gonna skyrocket.”

  “That’s some expensive property already. A couple thousand dollars couldn’t have bought much.” I was scared to ask. “You didn’t borrow any money, did you?”

  He slowly shook his head up and down. “Yeah.”

  My mouth took off like a race car. “Okay, I guess you forgot all about my law school loans. You know it’s gonna take a minute to get a return, don’t you? I can’t believe you listened to your brother, who’s been a financial planner all of two months? They did an exposé on 60 Minutes about that. Who does he think he is, Chris Gardner from The Pursuit of Happyness?” I sucked my teeth and started walking toward the stairs. Chris stood up like he was about to follow me.

  I froze, then glared at the bookshelf. I reached over and snatched our Bible. I had vowed I wouldn’t be one of those “preaching wives,” but I couldn’t help myself. “Maybe if you won’t listen to me, you’ll listen to G-o-d,” I said as I started to toss him the Bible. “Proverbs 21:5.”

  Instead I opened it and read it myself. “The plans of the diligent lead to profit as surely haste leads to poverty.” Then I tossed him the Bible.

  After a few seconds, Chris muttered a pitiful, “I love you, Cupcake.” I turned and marched up the stairs.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  Client Meeting

  Rex felt like his head was spinning. Between the one drink he had had and the cigar smoke, he started to gag. The room was loud and musty. He couldn’t wait to get to a shower and drop his Brooks Brothers suit at the cleaners as soon as possible. He grabbed a seat at the bar, his body awkwardly trying to adjust to the stool. The haze, boisterous patrons, and blaring music threatened his comfort zone and personal space. He dropped his head down toward the counter and rubbed his neck. When he looked up after a few seconds, everything seemed gray. A woman appeared, and his eyes tuned in to her presence like radar. For a few minutes, he was fixated . . . engaged in her presence. She was tall and voluptuous; her wavy auburn hair framed her porcelain face. The subtle sway in her hips was soothing. Their eyes locked and he tried to look away, but he couldn’t.

  “What’s wrong with me? I must be tired,” he said as his two fingers rubbed the bridge of his nose. He closed his eyes, temporarily shutting out the madness around him. His eyes sprang open and he noticed his clients engrossed in the atmosphere of the club. “It’s definitely time to go home.” He ran his hand from the front of his curly hair to the nape of his neck, and adjusted his rimless glasses.

  As if reading his mind, his client, a rotund bald man, leaned over and said, “Rex, we’re okay. We can find our way to the hotel if you want to go home.”

  He released a sigh of relief, shook a few hands, and sprinted for the door. On the way out, he couldn’t help but try to take one last look at the scarlet-haired stranger. But as quickly as she’d entered, she’d disappeared. Despite a fight, her presence lingered with him to the car. As he focused on the road, visions of her fiery crown, cherry-stained lips, and blood-red stilettos bombarded his thoughts all the way home.

  Once parked in his driveway, he grabbed the back of his head. “God, I’m not sure what’s happening.” He rubbed his tightening chest. “I’m just sick of entertaining these over-indulgent, self-absorbed clients,” Rex thought. “And at what price? God, there’s got to be a different way to make a living than this. Why do I feel so trapped?” He stared at the two-story mansion in front of him.

  He leaned in, and took a deep breath. He turned on the light inside the car and examined his face in the visor mirror. He was looking for the man of integrity who had walked through the door of the firm on the first day of work. He noticed a few gray hairs had cropped up in his curly but close-cut hair. There’s got to be more to life than this.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  All of Us

  “Come on in,” Jewel said. She opened the door for Stacy, Kevin’s ex-wife, and Aja. “Hey, sweetie, how did your ballet lesson go?”

  “Fab-u-lous! We learned a new dance today.” Aja tore off her little pink trench coat.

  “What do you mean, ‘fabulous?’ ” Jewel smiled, knowing exactly where she got that word from. She watched as Aja ran toward the cookies waiting for her. Before closing the door, she noticed Stacy had arrived in a new Honda Accord, instead of her old Corolla. “Hmm, nice car,” she said as she turned and walked toward the kitchen.

  “Yeah, it was time. I had problems with a cosigner, but it all worked out.” Stacy paused and looked Jewel in the eyes, then put her hand on her hip. “And no, Kevin didn’t cosign. I asked, but he said no,” she quickly uttered as if reading Jewel’s mind.

  Oh, uh-uh! Jesus, see what I mean? Jewel paused to control her tone. She turned toward Aja. “Honey, why don’t you finish eating your snack in the den? I need to talk to your mom.”

  Aja grabbed a few cookies and her glass of milk. “Don’t leave without saying good-bye, Mommy.” Her big brown eyes searched Stacy’s for assurance.

  “I won’t, honey.” Her mother smiled warmly. When she looked back at Jewel, her face maneuvered to a neutral expression.

  “I guess now’s a good time to talk about Aja’s birthday party. I was thinking we could do a tea party,” Jewel said, after Aja was out of sight.

  “Umm, that’s a cute idea, but I’ve already made arrangements at the Children’s Museum.” Stacy ran her hand through her cropped spiky hair.

  For the old girl to be crying broke, her hair is always freshly laid. “Why didn’t you let me know?” Jewel said as she picked up Aja’s coat.

  “Jewel, I am her mother. If I want to decide what kind of birthday party she’s gonna have, I will,” Stacy said as she frowned and rolled her neck.

  Okay, Jesus, that’s it. Please, give me a free pass to give her a beat down. P-l-e-a-s-e. “Stacy, I’m somewhat patient, but I draw the line when it comes to party planning.” Jewel’s right index finger wagged as she spoke. “I hope you didn’t leave a deposit at the museum.” Jewel took a deep breath and crossed her arms. “Never mind, we’ll discuss it again later. There’s something a bit more important I need to talk about.” Jewel walked behind a chair, resting her hands on it. She failed to offer Stacy a seat.

  “Oh? What would that be?” Stacy said with raised eyebrows.

  “Um . . .” Jewel bit her lip. “I’ll just say it. Stacy, I really think you’ve been taking advantage of Kevin’s kindness. We need to set a few boundaries. Not to be rude, but Kevin’s my husband now. You need to respect that.” She watched Stacy’s face for a response.

  “Jewel, I’m not sure what you mean.” Stacy pulled out her car keys from her purse, appearing distracted.

  “I believe you know exactly what I’m talking about. There’s no need to play games.”

  “I just think you’re being a little insecure.” Stacy turned and moved toward the door.

  No she didn’t—did she say insecure? Jewel walked after her. “Please, I don’t possess an ounce of insecurity in my body. All I’m saying is you had Kevin and Aja, and you messed up. So deal with it.”

  Stacy stopped abruptly and turned to face Jewel.

  Jewel took a step back. “Look, I don’t have a problem with the time you spend with Aja. You’re her mother, I understand that. But all this other stuff is extra and I’m not having it.” She waved her hand in the air and it landed on her hip. Before Stacy spoke, Jewel walked toward the dishwasher. She opened the door to put away the dishes.

  Stacy’s face suddenly softened and her shoulders dropped. “Okay, Jewel, you’re right. It’s extremely hard to see my husband . . .”

  Jewel snapped, “Ex-husband.”

  “Yeah, okay. It’s extremely hard seeing my ex-husband with someone else. I know I hurt them; and yes, I admit, I gave up too easily. It’s hard, I mean seeing you with my life, in my house. You have no idea what that feels like. So excuse me if I want to make decisions related to my daughter who I gave birth to. I
’ve paid for my mistakes. So if you want to deprive me of the few things that I want to do for Aja, go ahead and be my guest.” She closed her eyes to control her emotions, forcing them shut to keep the tears from forming.

  Jewel stood struggling for words, almost feeling sorry for Stacy. Almost. “Well, all I’m saying is we need to compromise a little more. I mean if Will, Jada, and his ex can do it, we can. For God’s sakes, they created a whole sitcom about it, so evidently anything’s possible. All I ask is a little more respect. For instance, when you call, you need to at least speak to me before you ask for Kevin. And some things, Stacy, you know you can handle yourself. You don’t have to call Kevin all the time, acting like you need to be rescued.”

  Stacy looked down momentarily. When she looked up, her lips were tight, but her face quickly softened as she took a few steps toward Jewel. “I’ll try . . . I mean to be more considerate. It’s just that Kevin’s always been there.” Her eyes turned toward the floor as she studied the intricate pattern that replaced the old design. Slowly her eyes met Jewel’s. “I—I’ve met some people at church, and things will, well, are changing. I have someone in my life now.” She took a deep breath. “But Aja, she’s still my daughter and that will never change. I gave birth to her. She knows I’m her real mother and you can’t take that away, Jewel.” Stacy’s voice grew more confident as she gripped the keys in her hand tight. She felt a familiar pain shoot down the back of her head but resisted the urge to appear weak in front of Jewel.

  Did she say she met someone? Thank you, Jesus, my prayers have been answered! Jewel still hadn’t said anything aloud. Silence hung in the air, begging interruption. Soon Aja skipped into the kitchen, still dressed in her leotard and tights. Thank God for Aja, this was becoming a Hallmark moment.

  “Here!” Aja handed them each a homemade card with a heart on it. “To both my Moms—God loved me so much He gave me two!” She grabbed their hands and held them.

  Jewel and Stacy glanced at each other, their hearts softened by love’s interruption. For the moment, they both surrendered to an unspoken truce.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  The Backstreet Cafe

  We’d just settled in for our regular Sunday brunch fellowship. However, I was a bit distracted. After staring at Jewel for a moment, I finally asked what everyone else probably wanted to. “Jewel, girl, what’s up with the hair?” I noticed it was about a foot longer since the last time I saw her, a week ago.

  “Huh? Oh yeah. I made a trip to Weave Nation yesterday,” she said as she flung one side of her newly lengthened mane to her back.

  She doesn’t seem fazed, so I guess we shouldn’t be. “It really looks good. But I remember how you used to be such a ‘weave snob.’ ” I have to admit she did look pretty glam. Her long layered mane pulled together her fashionable ensemble: a ruffled blouse, tulip skirt, and strappy sandals. Her healthy maple skin glowed with bronzer and cinnamon lip color.

  “Hey, weaves are totally acceptable now. You can come with me the next time I go. My cousin Makeeba helped pick the perfect texture and color. She can look at you and tell instantly what you need. I went straight to the wall of weaves and found my exact match.”

  “Naw, I’ll pass, maybe next time,” I said as I rolled my eyes.

  “Speaking of a new do, that’s an interesting look you’ve been sporting lately Angel,” Jewel said, glancing her way.

  “Not that I have to explain anything to you, but I’m starting to lock my hair. I just need a change.”

  “Umm, it is a change. But you’ve always danced to a beat of a different drum,” Jewel said inspecting Angel’s hair with her eyes. “Are you having an India. Arie moment? I feel you. I am not my hair—I like that song, it’s kind of mother earth.”

  “You totally misunderstand the message in the song. She’s not pro-locks or anti-perm. She’s really talking about defining ourselves by things other than our hair. Defining who we are by our Spirits.”

  “That’s a nice thought, but Angel, c’mon, you know people judge by appearances first. Do you think Kevin was looking at my ‘Spirit’ that first day he met me?” Jewel brushed a strand of hair away from her eyes.

  “Actually I do. He saw something in your crazy behind. Just think about it: ‘pretty’ walks up and down the street all day long; there has to be something that separates you from the next person.”

  “This is true, but my fitted jogging suit didn’t hurt either. Men are visual,” Jewel said as she waved her fork.

  Angel dropped her shoulders. “Yeah, but when a man is spiritually grounded, which I know Kevin is, that Spirit seeks out something besides the physical.”

  “Yeah, yeah. I guess that’s why so many of us are breaking the bank spending money on hair, clothes, and anything else we can find,” I said.

  “I really don’t see anything wrong with looking good,” Jewel affirmed.

  “No, I’m not saying that, but we need to work just as hard on the inside as the outside. I do have to admit, Houston is the land of big hair and Bibles.” She scanned the room, noticing that half the women looked like they had the same hairdresser, shopped at the same store, and carried the same purses.

  I was about to chime in, but I saw someone resembling Capri walk through the door. Wait a minute; that is Capri. She’d been missing in action from our girl get-togethers, tied up with Anthony and his social calendar. Recently, they’d been popping up in the Houston society papers—Paper City, Onyx, and Gloss. For someone shunning the limelight a minute ago, Capri seemed quite comfortable in some of the photos.

  “Oh wait, there’s Capri.” Jewel stood, waving her hand as she strode toward us.

  “Hey, ladies,” she said when she finally reached our table. I barely recognized Capri. She looked like she’d just made a stop at a makeup counter. She dropped her quilted Louis Vuitton bag on the floor and slid her Armani shades above her flat-ironed, shellacked mane.

  “Hey girl, I thought you were meeting Missy?” I said, still distracted by the layers of makeup.

  “Oh, we rescheduled. I really wanted to spend some time with you all. Besides, I don’t need to tell you how exhausting she can be,” Capri said as she slid her chair out.

  Missy, another player’s wife, wasn’t exactly a friend, according to Capri; but they sure had been hanging a lot lately.

  “Hey girl, I saw you on TV in the stands the other night. You were looking quite fab,” Jewel said. “Sit down, sit down.” She brushed off the chair before Capri sat in it. “Omigod!”

  Capri jumped. “What’s wrong?”

  Are you wearing that Tracy Reese dress I saw on Kerry Washington in this month’s O magazine? I adore her clothes.”

  “Jewel, I thought something was wrong. If you must know, yes, it is. Anyway, back to basketball. As you guys know, I’d rather watch the games at home, but I’ve gone to a couple of games recently because Anthony asked me to. They’re having such an awesome season. Can you believe it?” She grabbed a menu but didn’t look at it right away.

  Who are they, Eva Longoria and Tony Parker? And why is Jewel all but drooling over Capri?

  “I need another cup of coffee.” Angel waved the waiter over.

  “Hey, that’s about your third cup. You never drink that much coffee,” I said, slicing my brioche French toast. Mmm, this is heaven.

  “Okay, the truth. Coffee is my only vice.” She grabbed her cup with both hands, pretending to hug it. “It keeps me sane. Since Octavio and I are purging from sex, it’s been my one outlet,” she said, biting her nails.

  I drummed my fingers on the table. “My, my, my how the tables have turned. I remember those days. Thank you Jesus, Hallelujah, Praise God . . .” I raised my hands like I was getting the Holy Ghost.

  Angel looked over, clenching her teeth. “Don’t let me have to hurt you,” she said as she raised her butter knife.

  “Well, I hate to break the news, but coffee’s a stimulant. It might make things worse,” Jermane warned as she picked over her eggs Be
nedict.

  “I know that. Just leave me alone.” Angel threw up her hands.

  “Well, since we’re on the subject,” Jermane said slowly, “Rex and I have definitely gone to another level in that area.”

  “What do you mean?” Capri asked.

  “Well, normally a lady doesn’t divulge such information, but I have to talk to somebody. Rex hasn’t been himself. I mean we’ve been spicing it up, but he’s wanted to try all sorts of stuff. Is that normal?”

  “Why are you looking at me?” Angel said. “I don’t even want to talk about it.”

  “No offense, Angel, but despite your new Lakewood membership, you used to be, well . . . out there,” Jewel said, then sliced her salmon crème brûlèe.

  Angel ignored her comment. “Anyway, when I used to be married, my husband and I were never bored. Unfortunately, that seemed to be all we were good at.”

  “Girl, that was about a hundred years ago.” Jewel waved her hand and laughed; she suddenly got quiet when she noticed no one else was joining her.

  “Well, Anthony, future owner of an NBA championship ring, hasn’t lost his touch.” Capri blew on her fingers and rubbed her fingertips on her shoulder.

  The waiter approached Capri to take her order. “I’ll have the shrimp cheesecake,” she said.

  While she ordered, I playfully stuck my finger down my throat. Soon everyone was looking at me to add my two cents. I cleared my throat. “Umm, no comment,” I said, then lowered my head and started slicing my lump crab cakes.

  “Uh-oh, sounds like the newlywed fire has fizzled already,” Jewel said. “Told you to stay away from those carbs.”

  “For your information, there’s no problem in the Reynolds household. Besides, a true lady doesn’t discuss such things.”

  Jermane cleared her throat. “I believe the conversation was about Rex and me.” She put her hand on her chest.