by E. N. Joy
Okay, now Maeyl was definitely auditioning for the role of Charlie Brown’s parents. “Wha-wha-wha-wha.” That was what his words started to sound like as Tamarra stared through him, lifting a spoonful of chili to her mouth like she was a robot.
“Don’t you think that would be a good idea?” Maeyl asked Tamarra, who hadn’t even heard the question he’d posed to her. “Tamarra, honey, don’t you agree?”
“Uh-huh, yeah, Maeyl.” She scooped up another bite.
“I mean, they should just save the taxpayers their money and lock all black boys up at the age of fourteen. Give ’em three to five years and let ’em just get it over with, huh?” Maeyl was being sarcastic.
“Yeah, sounds good to me.”
“And I was thinking, maybe you should get married in a green wedding dress: our way of going green. And the table settings at our reception can be made of recycled newspaper. Does that sound good?”
“Yeah, sounds good to me,” Tamarra replied blindly.
“Okay, what’s going on here, Tamarra?” Maeyl’s fist softly hit the table, enough to make it shake Tamarra out of her gaze.
“Oh, yeah, I totally agree,” Tamarra rambled off.
“Woman, you haven’t listened to a word I’ve said since we sat down.”
“That’s not true,” Tamarra fronted. “I’ve heard every word you said.”
“Is that so? Then when are we going shopping for your green wedding dress?”
Tamarra turned her nose up like she smelled a wet dog. “Green wedding dress?”
“Yeah, that’s what you just agreed to wear.”
Tamarra drew a blank.
“See, told you that you weren’t listening. And I knew that before you decided all black boys should be put in jail.”
Tamarra looked horrified. She’d never decide upon such a thing.
“Now, tell me what’s wrong. Is it the wedding? Is planning it stressing you out? I thought that’s why we decided on something small and intimate.”
“No, Maeyl, it’s not the wedding.” Tamarra’s eyes gazed downward. It definitely wasn’t the wedding. She’d hardly done any planning at all, as if the wedding was just going to happen on its own—or even worse, as if the wedding wasn’t going to happen at all.
“It’s Sakaya, isn’t it?”
Tamarra lifted her head. Was he on to her?
“You’re afraid of taking on motherhood, huh? Don’t worry, babe. You’re going to be the perfect second mommy. You are kind, sweet, lovable…”
Maeyl went on and on with compliment after compliment about how wonderful a mother Tamarra would be to Sakaya. Any other woman would have been flattered—any woman who truly wanted to step into the role of motherhood to another woman’s child. That woman wasn’t Tamarra. Not with Sakaya, some other woman’s daughter. She didn’t know how much longer she could do this. She was certain that after a few movies, dinners, and trips to the ice cream parlor, she would have grown into the part by now, but with Raygene trying to force herself into Tamarra’s life as well, she hadn’t even gotten the chance to rehearse for the role. This was just too much. So much that Tamarra was starting to have trouble breathing.
“Tamarra, honey, you okay?” Maeyl got up and went and sat down next to Tamarra. She wasn’t talking. She was taking slow, deep breaths like they taught her at the ER. “Come on. Let’s go outside and get some air. Just keep breathing.” So as not to make a scene, Maeyl slowly helped Tamarra to her feet and escorted her outside of the restaurant. He walked her around to the side of the building near the dumpsters and side entrance. He wanted to keep her moving so that she wouldn’t be consumed with the fear of losing her breath. “Breathe, baby, breathe,” he coached as they paced on the side of the building, out of customers’ view.
Tamarra tried to pace her breathing as well. The last thing she wanted to do was have an attack right there at Family Café. That was giving the town and the church way too much to talk about. She was bound and determined to get this thing under control. Inhale, exhale. Inhale, exhale. She repeated this until she felt her breathing was back to normal.
“You feel better now?” Maeyl asked, now less worried than he had been only moments earlier.
“Yeah, Maeyl, I’m good. I’m good,” Tamarra assured him as she stood still. “We can go back now.” She started to walk away, but then he grabbed her arm to stop her.
“What?” She looked down at his hand on her arm. “Really, I’m fine. We can go back now.”
“We can’t go back, Tamarra. We can never go back.” A sad and troubled demeanor now hovered over Maeyl. “We can’t go back to how things were before.” He swallowed hard as if swallowing his emotions. “We can’t go back to before Sakaya came into my life. And I know that’s exactly where you want to go back to.”
Tamarra tried to cover the look on her face that read “Busted,” but she couldn’t. What would be the point? Zelda was right; she couldn’t hide it.
“I’ve known it from the beginning, sensed it from day one, but I wanted so much for it to not be so. I could tell it’s not what you wanted. You were like a fish out of water when it came to talk of Sakaya or just being around her. But I kept pushing, hoping the more I had you around her, the more she’d grow on you…and you know…you’d just… I don’t know.” Maeyl honestly didn’t know what he thought would happen. All he knew was that both girls meant the world to him, but he’d have to back away from one to keep the other, or there was a chance that eventually he’d ruin his relationship with both.
Tamarra didn’t know whether to feel embarrassed or be relieved that Maeyl had seen right through her all this time: relieved that she didn’t have to say it herself, or embarrassed that all along he’d known she was being a fake and a phony. Either way it went, the truth was out.
“Maeyl, I’m so sorry. I tried. I really did try. I had every intention of being that perfect wife to you and the perfect stepmother to Sakaya, but—”
“Then that’s where you went wrong.”
“Huh?” Tamarra didn’t understand Maeyl’s comment.
“You set out to be perfect. Nobody’s perfect, so that was never going to happen. I just wanted you to be you.”
“But me couldn’t take playing second fiddle again with my man.”
“Second fiddle? Is that what you think?”
“It’s what I know,” Tamarra said with conviction. “Trust me; I’ve been chosen over a kid before.”
Maeyl looked at her almost with disgust. “Woe is me. Poor me,” he mocked. “Why is everything always happening to me? Why is everybody always picking on me?” Shoving his hands in his pockets to warm them up from the coolness of the late February weather, Maeyl stated, “Last call for drinks was years ago, yet you’re still at the pity party. Get over it, Tamarra. Get over yourself.”
Tamarra opened her mouth in shock. She’d never seen this side of Maeyl before.
“I can’t believe I wanted this thing to work so badly. I mean, I’ve prayed and I’ve prayed and I’ve prayed that God would change your heart, allow you to receive and accept your new, ready-made family as a blessing, but you are just so selfish and so caught up in your own little world that you wouldn’t stand still long enough to let God speak to your heart.” He let out a harrumph sound. “Guess I’m not the only one you haven’t been spending much time with lately.”
“Now, you wait a minute!” Tamarra pointed. How dare Maeyl question her walk and relationship with God? Although, if she was being honest with herself, she had to admit that lately she hadn’t prayed like she used to pray. She hadn’t even read her Bible on a regular basis. She’d allowed so much to clutter her mind, to distract her from the things of God…from God Himself. Slowly but surely she was straying. If she wanted to be brutally honest, heck, she’d become a Sunday-only Christian, the one thing her mother had once indirectly tried to accuse her of being.
“No, you wait a minute,” Maeyl shot back. “I’ve been waiting long enough, but the wait is over.” He paused for a
moment, closed his eyes, and took a deep breath. “And so are we.” He opened his eyes after saying those words, almost as if he didn’t want to look at Tamarra’s face while saying them. “The wedding is off. I’ll reimburse you for any expenses you’ve incurred. I’ll chalk mine as a loss—a great loss.”
Tamarra froze. She was in shock. She hadn’t expected this. She didn’t know what she had expected, but it sure wasn’t to be dumped on the side of Family Café…next to the dumpsters, like trash. She couldn’t think straight as she massaged her temples with her index fingers. Her head felt like it was going to explode, like there were backed-up tears filling her head like a water balloon that was going to burst at any time. She was in pain.
Maeyl knew that his words had caused the pain, and he couldn’t stand there and watch it. “Good-bye, Tamarra.” He walked away with tear-filled eyes from the woman he truly loved.
Tamarra just stood there, tears finally dropping one after the other. Her head was spinning round and round. She had to lean up against the building to balance herself. Her breath shortened. She tried to take in deep breaths and count, but her head wouldn’t even allow her to come up with the numbers. She couldn’t speak; she couldn’t breathe. Everything turned into a blur; then everything went black.
Chapter Twenty-eight
“Am I being punked or something? What do you mean you’re getting married?” Lynox let off a nervous laugh. Deborah didn’t laugh. She just sat stone-faced on the bench next to Lynox. “Oh my goodness, you’re serious, aren’t you? You asked me to meet you in the middle of Easton Town Square on a cold night just to tell me that?” He stood. “You could have told me that mess over the phone.”
“Wait, Lynox. Please don’t leave. Sit back down, please,” Deborah requested. He hesitated, but did as she asked. “I just felt the need to tell you in person. You know?”
“Actually, no, I don’t know.” He chuckled. “I don’t… I don’t understand, Deborah. Who? Why? When? I mean, just yesterday it seemed we were out at a restaurant and…” Lynox’s words trailed off as it suddenly hit him. “It’s that guy, that Elton guy, isn’t it?” Deborah looked down. Lynox stood again. “You don’t see this guy for five years, then he’s back in town and you two are engaged? Well, that explains why you were so short with me on the phone the one or two times I was able to get you on the line.” Lynox washed his hands down his face. “Wow. This is a joke, and the joke’s on me.”
“Lynox, you’re not a joke. You’re a wonderful man. I really did like you. I’m even willing to go as far as to say that I could have seen a future with you.” Deborah wasn’t saying that just to make Lynox feel good. It was truly how she felt.
“Then what happened? I mean, how can you just change your mind about us because Kobe Bryant blows back in town? The dude’s a joke; he’s a player. He’s ego trippin’ and you’re feeding right into it.”
Now Deborah stood. “Look, I know you might be hurt, but that doesn’t mean you need to say things that are hurtful to me.”
Lynox sighed. “You’re right. I apologize. It’s just that I know his type. I can see right through that cat. It’s not about you. It’s not about him having you. It’s about him knowing that he can have you. You’re no better than one of the groupies that probably waits outside of his hotel room door after—”
Lynox couldn’t even finish his insult—not after the stinging on his right cheek from Deborah’s slap. Deborah stood there with a trembling lip and a balled fist as if she wanted to slug him again. There was no regret, no repenting.
“Okay, I deserved that,” Lynox said, rolling his tongue on the inside of his jaw. “I was out of line. Way out of line. I was trying to hurt you because I’m hurt.” This much honesty in a man was not a trait Deborah was used to over the past few years.
Deborah could see the pity in Lynox’s eyes. “I didn’t mean to hurt you, Lynox, but I have to do what is going to make me happy.”
“And how do you know he’s going to make you happy? There have been years between you two. People change.”
“You’re right. I’ve changed. Both Elton and I have changed. We’re older and wiser. We realize we made some mistakes, but we’re going to give it a try again.”
“You sound like you’re reading a script, like you’ve rehearsed this or something.”
Actually, Deborah had rehearsed it. In her head. A thousand times. She’d rehearsed these words not only to say to Lynox, but to say to herself, because that’s who she was having the hardest time convincing that marrying Elton was the right thing to do. Lynox calling her out was starting to upset her. No one likes to face the truth. Deborah didn’t like facing the truth.
“I’m sorry you feel as though this is staged. I’m sorry you’re hurt. I didn’t want to do this.” Deborah looked down at her twiddling thumbs.
“Then don’t,” Lynox said to her as if it were just as easy as that to call off her engagement with Elton. “Just hold off on this idea of marriage. Give me a chance to show you that it’s not about some baller bouncing into town and proposing, but instead, it’s about a gentleman strolling into your life and sweeping you off your feet.” Lynox closed in the space between him and Deborah then placed his hands on each of her cold cheeks, forcing her to look him in his eyes. “Let me be that gentleman.”
Deborah was touched. She was moved. But she was engaged. She couldn’t think about what might have been with Lynox. She had to focus on what would be with Elton. “I’m sorry, Lynox. Take care of yourself.” She walked off quickly before Lynox said one more thing out of a romance novel that would have her sinning again.
After making it to her car, she started it up and turned on the heat. Her car had only been sitting fifteen minutes, so it wasn’t completely cold air coming out. She watched Lynox walking past her in the aisle in front of her. He didn’t see her watching him in the night, mainly because his head was down. She hated the fact that she’d gotten his hopes up about them, only to bring them down, kick them down, but she couldn’t help but feel that God was giving her another chance with Elton. It was a chance to make things right, to right the wrong they had done. Even when she’d lain with Elton the other night, it didn’t feel like a sin. It felt good being one with him, and now, soon, they’d be one as man and wife, and that would blot out the sin of them fornicating. Wouldn’t it? That was Deborah’s train of thought anyway.
When Elton had first contacted her, Deborah thought of the possibility that Satan might be up to his old tricks. Then she realized that she couldn’t go giving the devil credit for something God might have had in the works. Maybe God had brought Elton back into her life just in the nick of time before she got too serious with Lynox. Maybe her feelings for Lynox hadn’t been real at all. Maybe she’d been subconsciously using Lynox to keep from ever having to deal with her true feelings about Elton in the first place.
She sniffed.
Who was the dawg now?
Chapter Twenty-nine
Deciding to pull herself out of bed and go out to the game and dinner with Blake felt like the hardest thing in the world for Paige to do. Lugging her body out of bed felt like lugging mounds and pounds of bags of wet sand. It was bags, all right…baggage. It was baggage that Paige had mistakenly thought would disappear after she said “I do” to Blake. She couldn’t have been more wrong.
She wasn’t the person everyone thought she was, the person she thought everyone wanted her to be. The confidence, the being-happy-in-the-skin-she-was-in, sassy big girl was this person she’d created. It was like her alter ego. At home, when she was alone, she was a sad-sap, size-sixteen-wearing big girl who really wore a size eighteen, but would trade anything in the world to be a size ten. She’d even work a size twelve like she was a runway model if she could.
There had been so many times she’d fantasized about being a nice, healthy weight, wearing swimsuits without cover-ups and not being ashamed to go to the gym in micro workout pants. Fantasizing had been what she’d done for as long as she could reme
mber. It was something that, when she was a chunky little girl, could make all her dreams come true—in her mind. In her fantasies, she could be the same size as all the other girls in her class and not get teased when the teacher called her up to the chalkboard to work out a problem. In her mind, she was the hottest little number on the block, the one who all the boys wanted to take to the school dances. In her mind, she was the most successful and beautiful woman on the planet. She was every man’s choice for a wife, but wounded them all by shooting down their efforts to make her a wifey.
All this had been in her mind, in her fantasies, but whenever reality would knock her upside the head, she’d snap out of it. Behind closed doors, she reverted back to the person she really was. The person nobody wanted. The person she didn’t even want to be.
It became apparent that Paige had allowed her fantasy world to get mixed up with the real world; unfortunately, often times she couldn’t determine which was which. This was why she’d been through so many men. For so many years, she had allowed her mind to fantasize about romantic encounters with men, but the real thing never quite transpired the way she had imagined it. She’d pursue a man, or at least her alter ego would; then, just like that, and before they could really get to know each other, she’d drop him like a hot potato.
