by E. N. Joy
Instead of sending him away once again, knowing the man would keep coming back like a roach in the projects, he quickly picked up his menu and rambled off his order. He surmised that the quicker they gave their order, the quicker they could get back to their alone time. Deborah followed suit by picking up her own menu.
“I’ll have the Erma burger with fries,” Lynox ordered. After scanning the menu, Deborah ordered the same.
Lynox took the menu from her hand to turn over to the waiter as Deborah took a sip of her drink.
“Well, that sounds like a delicious meal. Perhaps I should relay that to your waiter.”
Just then Deborah lifted her light brown, slanted eyes to the person standing at their table. Before she could control it, the liquid in her mouth squirted across the table onto Lynox’s shirt.
“Not again.” Lynox sighed as he picked up his napkin and wiped himself down, wondering to whom they owed the pleasure of interrupting their meal this time around.
Every time Deborah’s phone had rung, she’d been on pins and needles wondering if it was going to be Elton. For a moment she had considered just e-mailing him back in order to get her first communication with him in five years out of the way. But that was her flesh telling her to do that. God had not spoken yet concerning the matter.
It appeared as though Elton was a little quicker on his feet than God, because now, as Elton stood over her and Lynox on their date at Max and Erma’s, she wished she’d just gone ahead and talked to him. Now really wasn’t the time or the place for them to have their first encounter after all of this time…after all they’d been through. Well, at least all she’d been through.
Deborah cleared her throat. “Elton, uh, how are, uh…what are you… I’m surprised to see you here.” She couldn’t get her words together, so she cleared her throat once again and tried it all over, trying her best to sound cordial. “What a coincidence for you to be dining at the same exact restaurant that I’m at.” Her smile and forced cheery voice almost hit the sarcasm bull’s eye.
“Oh, it was no coincidence,” Elton assured her matter-of-factly. “I followed you here.” He stood there with this stupid grin on his face, daring Lynox to challenge the actions to which he’d just confessed.
Deborah didn’t give Lynox the chance. “Followed me? Elton, are you serious?”
“Very.” His confidence and surety matched Lynox’s to some degree, as well as his appearance. With his cocoa brown complexion and standing six feet, seven inches tall, the man was dapper. He had a swagger that was running a tight race to P. Diddy. The parts in his hair separating his cornrows were as straight as arrows. There wasn’t a loose hair coming from either of the dozen or so rows that looked as though they had been sculptured onto his head. The diamond Gucci watch: Bling. The basketball championship ring: Bling. The diamond earrings that adorned his ears: Bling. Oh, he was flashy, but it was just enough, not too much.
“But…” Deborah didn’t know what to say. She hadn’t expected the man to admit to stalking.
“You left me no choice. You never replied to my e-mail. You slammed the phone down in my ear. I knew there was only one way I would ever get to talk to you, and that was face to face.”
“But how did you know—”
“I have my ways.” Elton smiled. There was even bling in his mouth: one tooth, the second one to his left front tooth. Deborah had remembered him chipping that tooth in a basketball game. He’d initially repaired it with a basic cap that was covered by his insurance plan. Looked like he’d upgraded both his dental plan and his cap.
Lynox was now the one clearing his throat. He felt the need to remind Deborah that he was there, that he was the one she’d gone out on the date with. Not LeBron James here.
“Oh, uh, Lynox, this is—” Deborah started to introduce.
“I’m Elton Culiver.” He extended his hand.
“And I’m—” Lynox extended his hand and started before Elton cut him off as well.
“Lynox Chase,” Elton stated as he shook his hand.
Both Lynox and Deborah were shocked to see that Elton knew who Lynox was. Seeing the shock on their faces, Elton decided to answer their unasked question.
“Once again, I have my ways.” Elton winked, and both Lynox and Deborah had surmised by now that Elton had used the change he had left over from all that bling to hire a private investigator. Either that, or he’d met up with New Day’s church secretary, who even knew what time the ants in Malvonia ate dinner.
“I suppose, then, that the pleasure is all mine,” Lynox stated. There was a brief moment of silence, as it looked as though Elton wasn’t about to go anywhere any time soon. “Honey, should we invite Mr. Culiver here to join us?” Lynox asked Deborah.
“Honey?” Elton chuckled, but neither Deborah nor Lynox could find the humor; although Deborah did wonder why Lynox was using that term of endearment with her. Had it just slipped out, or was he trying to mark his territory in front of Elton? “Oh, pardon me,” Elton said as his laughter ceased.
“Well, Elton, it was good to see you after all these years. Take care of yourself.” Deborah dismissed Elton just like that. Or at least she tried to.
“Oh, so it’s like that? You’re going to just get rid of me like yesterday’s trash?” Elton asked.
“I thought that was how we do it, Elton: get rid of things we don’t want in our lives like it was just yesterday’s trash.” Deborah glared at Elton, and for the first time since he’d arrived at their table, she’d shut him down.
“Uh, look. In hindsight, maybe this was a bad idea,” Elton admitted. “Sorry I interrupted your dinner, player,” he said to Lynox before turning his attention back to Deborah. “It was, uh, good seeing you too. Take care, Little Debbie.” As he walked away, his head was practically between his legs and his tail lagging behind him.
What surprised Deborah was that she felt bad for him…and she couldn’t understand it. Maybe it had been that look in his eyes when she’d alluded to her aborting their baby, getting rid of it like trash. For all these years, she’d been in so much pain about her decision, her loss, but not once did she ever think about the pain he might have been in too. Just as he’d never bothered to find out how the abortion had affected her, she had never bothered to find out how it had affected him. Something inside told her that she was about to find out
Chapter Twenty
“You spent the night with Norman? What did Blake say? Oh my God, Paige, what were you thinking?” Tamarra couldn’t believe her ears. “You guys have only been married a couple of months and already you’re sleeping with another man?”
“Slow down. It’s not what you think,” Paige told Tamarra as she handed her a cup of juice. “I said I spent the night in a hotel room with the man. I didn’t say I slept with him.”
“Come again?” Tamarra accepted the juice and took a sip of it. She then curled her trouser sock–covered feet up under her as she listened to Paige explain herself.
“Because of the basketball game, the hotel was booked. They only had one room left. It was late, too late for Norman and I to be driving around Cleveland lost, looking for a hotel that had two separate rooms left.”
“Okay, and why was it, again, you two needed to be looking for a hotel room in the first place?” Tamarra adjusted her bottom on Paige’s couch.
With a smile on her face, Paige sat down and told Tamarra how after she and Norman left the game and made it to the parking lot, Paige’s car wouldn’t start. They tried getting a jump, but that didn’t do the trick either. She realized it must have been something serious, and then she remembered the fact that Blake had never gotten around to getting her check engine light looked at.
“Well, what did Blake say when you called him and told him you were stranded in Cleveland?”
“Oh, he felt awful. He was so upset with himself for not getting around to getting my car looked at like he’d promised. The day he promised he’d get it checked out he was suppose to take me to lunch as well. Bu
t you know Blake, always looking at the cup half full. He felt some sense of security knowing that Norman was with me and that I wasn’t out there stranded alone.”
“Hmm, I suppose one might say that was the lesser of two evils.” Tamarra sounded skeptical.
“And what’s that supposed to mean?” Paige set her own cup of juice down on the table. “Are you trying to insinuate something here?”
“No, Paige…” Tamarra’s words trailed off as she tried to find the right ones. “Well…”
“Just spit it out, friend.” Paige waited patiently for Tamarra to get her words together.
“It’s just not a good look is all,” Tamarra finally said. “I know firsthand how important it is to avoid even the mere appearance of evil. Trust me; I learned that enough times early in Maeyl’s and my relationship.”
Paige stared at Tamarra as if she certainly had a point she was trying to make, because the one she was teetering with, Paige wasn’t trying to hear.
“All I’m saying is be mindful of what things might look like with you and Norman. I mean, first he’s at a fancy restaurant with you, then he’s out in the parking lot with you, accidentally kissing you. Next he’s courtside at a basketball game with you, and then he’s spending the night in a hotel room with you.” Just hearing it brought on a reality check for Tamarra. “Seriously, girl, do you hear how all that sounds? So, imagine how it might look. And poor Blake—”
“Poor Blake?” Paige snapped, her once relaxed body stiffening. “Don’t you mean poor me? I’m the one who has to keep finding a seat-filler for my own husband. And ironically enough, he’s the one who told me to call Norman in the first place.”
“I’m not accusing you of anything, Paige,” Tamarra confirmed after hearing just a hint of an accusatory tone in her voice. “All I’m saying is just imagine what all this would look like to your husband. You don’t want to disrespect him in any way.”
Still feeling as though she was the victim, Paige retaliated. “Well, if he doesn’t like what it looks like, then maybe he should think about that the next time he chooses work over his wife!” Paige spat, and that’s when Tamarra realized what was going on here.
“Oh, I get it now.” Tamarra nodded. “The hubby isn’t spending as much time with wifey as she’d like, huh?”
Paige didn’t answer, not verbally anyway, but the slight twitch of her neck and rolling of her eyes told it all.
“I understand all that. When my ex and I first got married, he was the same way. And then when he did set a day aside for leisure time, it was to hang out with his boys. Well, instead of me finding someone else to hang out with, I managed to get Edward to spend some of that time with me.”
“But Blake won’t take any time off period.”
“Then call up his assistant or whoever and schedule an appointment with him. Plan a nice intimate moment for you two.”
“Intimate moment. Tah. Yeah, right.” Paige sucked her teeth and rolled her eyes. Hard. “File that under ‘N’ for Never.”
“Why do you say that?”
Paige’s eyes cast downward as if she was embarrassed.
“Come on, Paige. What is it? You know you can tell me.”
Paige looked up into her friend’s eyes and knew that she could. “I’m almost embarrassed to admit that we haven’t even made love since the weekend we got married,” Paige confessed.
Tamarra was flabbergasted. “Are you serious? You haven’t made love to your husband since your wedding night?”
“No,” Paige corrected her, “since the weekend of our wedding. You saw him on our wedding night. He was loaded. He’d had one too many toasts of champagne.”
“Yeah.” Tamarra recalled their wedding night with a smile. “He was pretty buzzed.”
“And with it being my first time having sex, I didn’t want no drunken lovemaking.”
“So you mean your new husband couldn’t minister to you in the bed on your wedding night?”
“Now I know firsthand why Pastor says that even though drinking is not a sin, why risk being under the influence if God calls you to be used? The last thing a saint should want is for Jesus to call on them when He needs them most and He can’t even use them like He wants to because they are under the influence of alcohol…even if it’s just a little bit. All God wants is for them to be filled with the Holy Spirit, not liquid spirit.”
Paige sighed. “I needed my husband to minister to me that night and he couldn’t. I’d waited years for that very moment, the infamous wedding night where the bride who has been saving herself loses her virginity. So much for fairy tales.”
“Well, I think you and I both know that life is no fairy tale,” Tamarra said. Paige shrugged in halfhearted agreement. “But things have gotten a little better, right? I mean, he’s not a drinker, so surely he’s more prepared to…you know…minister in bed.”
“I wish, but by the time he puts in all those hours at work, he’s too tired to…minister.”
Tamarra shot Paige a pitiful look. Paige shifted in her seat, trying to shift away the embarrassment.
“Anyway, enough about me. How are you feeling after your little spell yesterday?”
“Oh yeah, that.” Now Tamarra was the one who was embarrassed. She couldn’t believe she’d almost fallen out at church. “The doctors said it was just something similar to an anxiety attack, or a minor anxiety attack or something…. I don’t know.” Tamarra downplayed it.
“Girl, anxiety attack? Black people don’t have those, do they?”
“More than you know, according to what the doctor told me,” Tamarra said. “We just don’t realize that’s what we are experiencing. We like to dress it up with the word ‘overwhelmed.’ Anyway, it was a first for me. I’ve got it all under control, though.”
“Did the doctor prescribe you something?”
“No, he tried to, but I’m going to try prayer and God.”
“I hear that, girlfriend.” Paige gave Tamarra a high-five. “God is still in the healing business. If you truly believe, try Him and you will see. He can fix anything.” This time Paige picked up her glass and clinked it with Tamarra’s, thinking the entire time, Now if only God can fix my marriage.
Chapter Twenty-one
“A baby? They’re saying I have a baby?” All of a sudden, Tamarra felt nauseated, as if she could be experiencing morning sickness. Where, when, why had that rumor started? She tried to control her breathing, a technique she’d just learned from the emergency room doctor who had treated her after her spell on Sunday.
“That you are having a baby, or something crazy like that.” Unique told Tamarra of the latest New Day gossip as they drove to their catering affair. “You know ain’t nobody started that rumor but the old busybody church secretary. She planted the seed anyway, talking about you had morning sickness or something, and that Brother Maeyl had to take you to the urgent care place or to visit your doctor after church on Sunday. I don’t know. I half pay attention to that stuff. I was just in the women’s bathroom trying to pee is all.”
Tamarra was disgusted, both at the fact that Unique had just given her too much information regarding her bathroom business, and at the talk that was going on in the bathroom while she was trying to do her business. Nonetheless, though, she relaxed a little more. Knowing that the source of the rumor was the New Day Temple of Faith church secretary, she knew that many would take her word with a grain of salt, not really looking into it, or taking what she said at face value. There would be a couple, three or four people who did their part in spreading the rumor to some degree. Tamarra was confident, though, that still, it would be taken with a grain of salt, considering how much the church secretary loved to talk and draw her own conclusions. And even though this served as some sort of comfort to Tamarra, allowing her to fight off another near panic attack, she was still a little ticked off.
“You know, enough is enough already. It’s about time somebody shut that old woman down. She’s been stirring up mess at New Day since I can
remember,” Tamarra fussed. “I bet if Pastor knew, that secretary would be replaced in a heartbeat. Every pastor needs someone on their team they can trust, otherwise members won’t feel comfortable talking with their pastor if they know it’s going to make its way to the grapevine.”
“So, you gonna turn snitch?” Unique asked nonchalantly as she nibbled on the Pop Tart she’d brought along with her.
“Huh?” Tamarra asked, confused, keeping her eyes on traffic as she drove.
“You gon’ rat on her? You know, run and tell Pastor?” Unique chewed, unmoved one way or the other as to Tamarra’s answer.
“Well, uh, I wouldn’t call it snitching or being a rat or anything.”
“No, you wouldn’t, but in the streets where I come from, we would.” Unique finished chewing, swallowed, then broke it down for Tamarra. “See, where I grew up, if we had a problem with someone, we didn’t go running to their mommy and daddy first. We stepped to them first, gave them the opportunity to explain what’s what. If we didn’t like what they had to say, or if they wanted to get all froggy and try to jump bad, then we’d go to their mommy and daddy.” Unique took another bite of her breakfast treat and then with a mouthful added, “Or beat ’em down…one of the two.”
“So, you’re saying I should go to the source, the root of all this matter of evil first?”
“I’m not saying it. God is saying it.”
That same confused expression from earlier returned to Tamarra’s face. “Come again.”
“It’s in God’s word in Matthew eighteen, which states: If your brother wrongs you, go and show him his fault, between you and him privately.”
A look of surprise came across Tamarra’s face as Unique, someone she’d categorized as a little ghetto girl she was helping to make a dollar out of fifteen cents, had given her Bible for her situation.
