A Special Relationship

by Yvonne Thomas

  She walked over to him with two drinks, handing him one of them. He stood to accept the drink and sat down only after she took a seat in the chair flanking the sofa.

  “Now,” she said. “Let’s have it.”

  “Have what?” Robert asked.

  Tyler smiled. He was going to play hard to figure tonight, which was fine by her. She had all night. She just sat there looking at him, the smile on her face a good shield for her concern. Robert looked good, she thought, in his rarely seen dress-down style. He had on a pair of black slacks and a white pull-over V-neck muscle shirt that only magnified his broad shoulders and thick biceps. Aging gorgeously, she thought.

  “You aren’t going to tell me, are you?” she finally said to him.

  “Tell you what, Ty?”

  “Come on, Robert. You’ve been behaving, for lack of a better term, weird all evening. From dinner to now. So let’s have it. What on earth have you behaving this oddly?”

  Robert took a glance at Tyler and then sipped from his glass of wine. “I’m okay.”

  “Don’t even try it, Robert. I know you.”

  Robert, however, wasn’t about to discuss those crazy feelings he had for Carrie with Tyler or anybody else. She’d laugh in his face if he was to tell her that he was worried sick about the waitress that ruined her chenille pantsuit, the woman she literally slapped. Even just remembering that night still brought pangs to Robert’s heart. He knew it was dangerous to put a woman on a pedestal. He knew he was just asking for trouble. But when it came to Carrie, to Sojourner Caroline Banks, he couldn’t help himself.

  And he decided, right then and there, to stop trying. He stood up. No way was he going to just sit back and let her make the biggest mistake of her life.

  “Robert, what is it?” Tyler asked him.

  “I’m going to have to take a rain check on spending the night, babe,” he said.

  “Don’t shut me out, Robert. You always shut me out. Tell me what’s wrong.”

  “I’ll call you later,” he said as he began heading for the door.

  “Robert!”

  “Goodnight, Ty,” he said and did not even think to look back.

  FIFTEEN

  They made it but they were late, and Dooney Wallace, who sat at the bar going over receipts, was not amused. He even ignored Mona when she tried to explain, everything from waking up late to missing her bus to whatever else because he stopped listening. It wasn’t until she mentioned that Carrie was with her did he even look their way. When he saw Carrie, he smiled.

  “Well now,” he said and swerved his bar stool around. “This is what I’m talking about.”

  “Now you see why I’m late?” Mona said, grabbing any excuse she could find.

  “Yeah, yeah,” Dooney said. “I hear you been tipping out on the sly. Getting some side gigs on your own.”

  “Don’t believe everything you hear.”

  “I don’t play that, Mo, and you know it.”

  “I said don’t believe everything you hear, Dooney, dang. Just because one of these jealous hoochies told you something don’t mean you got to act like it’s true.”

  “Just go get your butt ready for the show. And you better be on your game tonight, Mo. None of that cat woman meowing and playing around crap you tried last night.”

  “I got this,” Mona said bitterly as she began walking behind the small stage. When she glanced back she could see Dooney’s eyes looking Carrie all over, as if she was a piece of meat to eat. As if Mona was chicken, and Carrie was caviar.

  Carrie, however, wasn’t giving Dooney a second thought. She was looking at the smoke-filled bar, where the music was loud and the conversation animated and the dancers, well, exotic. It was early by nightclub standards, and the crowd was sparse, but the dancers were not hesitating to put on a show. A raunchy, in your face, topless show. Carrie felt like throwing up. No way could she work in a place like this, in this literal den of iniquity.

  She didn’t expect much. She had, in fact, expected some hole in the wall establishment no self-respecting female would even venture into. But she didn’t expect this. This was no multiplex as Dooney called it. It was no ordinary nightclub as she tried to convince herself. This was a strip joint. Pure and simple. And she was crushed once again. She wasn’t expecting much, Lord knows she had lowered her standards a long time ago. But this was too low.

  It was at this point when Robert Kincaid entered the club. She was still staring at the dancers, and Dooney was still staring at her when he walked in and made his way to the far side of the bar counter and sat down completely undetected. He wanted to explode when he saw her in a place like this, looking at those half-naked women, her little Georgia behind undoubtedly stunned by the view. She realized tonight that she wasn’t in Attapulgus anymore, he was willing to bet.

  He ordered a beer when the bartender approached him, but the last thing he came to do was drink. He kept his eyes glued to Carrie, just waiting for the first wise guy to try something. The big dude sitting at the other end of the bar, where Carrie stood, was so busy looking her over and talking to her that Robert couldn’t tell if he was trying to come onto her or to encourage her to get out while she could. Either way, he didn’t like the way he was looking at her.

  Carrie, it seemed to Robert, was in another world. Her small body seemed almost stiff as she stood there, as if she wanted desperately to make a move but was frozen in place. He didn’t know if he should get her out now, or wait and see if she had the spunk to get out on her own. But when the big dude at the bar reached out and touched her soft hair, Robert saw red and he wasn’t about to delay any longer.

  Although Carrie immediately slapped Dooney’s hand away from her, Robert didn’t care. He nearly leaped from his bar stool and hurried to her side, his comfortable attire making him look not unlike their other patrons. But Dooney knew better. He saw him coming and stood to his feet. Carrie, however, didn’t see a thing.

  When she turned Robert was already upon her, grabbing her by the arm and all but dragging her out of Simms. Dooney was yelling, asking him who did he think he was, but Robert didn’t even look Dooney’s way. His anger was palpable. His frustration was grinding. His inability to rein in these crazy feelings he was having for Carrie was tearing him apart. That was why, when they made it to the sidewalk outside the club, the breezy night air like a reminder of the turmoil in both their hearts, he slung her away from him and let her have it.

  “Now do you see what I was talking about?” he said loudly, not even trying to temper his anger or worry about the people coming and going.

  “I thought they had a restaurant part!”

  “And I told you they didn’t. This is a strip joint, Carrie. A topless bar! And I told you that. But nooo. You know better. This is a multiplex. This is just like Jetson’s. Yeah, right. You are so naive, you hear what I’m saying to you? Where the hell have you been living, lady? In a cave somewhere?!”

  Tears began to come into Carrie’s eyes and all she wanted was for Robert and Dooney and Popena and everybody else in this world to just leave her alone. She even tried to get away from him, but Robert blew out a sigh of exhaustion and stopped her. “Let’s go,” he said. “Get in the truck.”

  “No, thank-you,” Carrie said stubbornly.

  “Carrie?”

  “No!’ she said more forcefully and began to walk away. Robert started to just let her leave. He’d gotten her out of Simms at least. That was enough.

  But it wasn’t enough. He hurried up behind her and grabbed her by her upper arm, turning her toward him.

  “I said let’s go.”

  “And I said no,” Carrie said as she tried to wrestle her arm away from him. “Leave me alone!”

  Maybe it was the fact that she’d been crying. Maybe it was the fact that they weren’t in the safest neighborhood. Maybe it was the fact that he was just plain tired of feeling so strongly toward her, but something snapped in him. He gripped Carrie’s arm tighter and began pulling her, kicking
and screaming, in the opposite direction of where she had been heading, ignoring her shouts and hits as he hurried along.

  Despite all of her protests, and they were many and well voiced, he refused to release her from his grasp until they made it up to his truck and he had slung her inside. She immediately tried to get out again, but he put a finger in her face. “Don’t try me, Carrie,” he warned, and then slammed the door.

  His anger showed in his driving as he drove her home fast and, she felt, furiously. Simms was located in Arlington, on Justina Road, which was a good distance from Dresel Street, but Robert was getting there in record time. It wasn’t until he was crossing the Matthews Bridge, near Jaguars Stadium, did he finally slow down and, with it, ease up on that rage that had grabbed him earlier and seemed determined to never let him go.

  He looked at Carrie. Her head was leaned back and she was staring out of the side window. She was disappointed enough, he felt. She didn’t need him beating up on her too. “You all right?” he asked her, but she didn’t say anything. “I can easily get you a job, Carrie.”

  “No thanks.”

  “And how are you supposed to survive without employment? Tell me that, Carrie. Now don’t get too proud for your own good.”

  Carrie sighed in exasperation and continued looking out of the window. He could take his job and shove it, as far as she was concerned tonight. She wasn’t about to accept anything from him because she knew, just like every other man she’d ever known, he’d try and corrupt her too. She was done with all of that. Ever since she decided to do the right thing and turn down Dale, her life had become a shining example of poor judgment and stupid mistakes. She wasn’t praying hard enough, or trusting God enough, something was wrong. Why else would everything turn out so disappointing for her? Now Robert Kincaid had the nerve to show up at Simms, as if he had to have his say in her life too. And he had the nerve to call her proud? Because she wasn’t going to bow down to him? She placed her hand to her forehead, to help ease her oncoming headache. She wasn’t bowing down to any man, she didn’t care what kind of pretty package he came in. All she wanted was to be left alone, to get away from him and all of this so-called civilization as fast as falling asleep could take her away.

  She got her chance when Robert’s SUV pulled up in front of her building. She slung open the door before the truck barely rolled to a stop.

  “Carrie,” Robert said quickly. She started to just keep going, but she didn’t. She looked at him. He looked so distraught that she almost felt compelled to reassure him.

  “Take this,” he said. He had a business card in his hand and was attempting to hand it to her.

  “What is it?” she asked.

  “Just take it, Carrie.”

  “What is it?”

  Robert exhaled. She was more trouble than any woman could possibly be worth. “It’s my direct line at Dyson. In case you need to get in touch with me.”

  Carrie looked at the card and then she looked at Robert. Taking a card like that didn’t make any sense and she knew it. Why would she be getting in touch with him? But he’d been nothing but kind to her since the day they’d met. She knew he really didn’t deserve her ire. She took the card.

  “Take care of yourself,” he said to her.

  “You too,” she said to him with zero emotion and got out of his truck. He watched her as she practically ran past the young men on the stoop and then disappeared inside her building. The young men seemed less curious about Robert’s presence in their world than they had the previous night, a fact that wasn’t lost on Robert. It didn’t take much, he supposed, to get accustomed to someone. He knew that for a fact. He’d only known Carrie Banks a few weeks, a few short weeks, and he was already feeling an emptiness every time she wasn’t by his side.

  SIXTEEN

  Millie Rawlings looked at her watch and then took another sip of her Coke. She only had another hour before she had to be at work - and in less than thirty minutes her bus would be coming. She already had her lunch before her, a ham and cheese sandwich the Mirror diner was famous for serving, but she’d hoped to have more time with Carrie.

  It was another ten minutes, however, before Carrie finally showed up. She was smiling, but Millie could tell she was a long way from happy. “It’s about time,” she said as Carrie sat down.

  “Sorry I’m late but I had a job interview out Dunn Avenue and had to catch two buses back into town.”

  “How did it go?”

  Carrie shook her head. “Horrible. The manager is something like nineteen years old and he couldn’t believe somebody my age wanted to work there. I told him ‘what do you mean my age? I’m only twenty-four.’ He says, ‘I know.’”

  Millie laughed. “Silly boy.”

  “I know.”

  “Any other prospects?”

  “Not really. It’s been nearly three weeks since Alphonso fired me and I’m just about running out of places to try.”

  Millie hesitated, and then she sighed. “Maybe if I talked to Phonso again.”

  Carrie quickly shook her head. “No, thanks. He fired me because I made a mistake. I could never work for anybody like that.”

  “But you were a very good worker, Carrie, and he knows it. You went above and beyond night in and night out. Phonso ain’t stupid. Maybe he’s just waiting for you to come and apologize or something.”

  “I already apologized. Over and over. There’s just so many times I can repent.” She sounded almost harsh. Millie noticed the change in her friend.

  “You okay?”

  “Yeah, I’m just. . . Yeah.”

  “Mona still giving you a hard time about the rent?”

  “Of course she is. She wants me to go back to Dooney and apologize for running out on him. Then when that got old and she concluded that I wasn’t about to do any such thing, she started blowing Willie Charles’ horn. I should beg him to hire me back, she said.”

  Millie shook her head. “The devil is busy, Carrie. He’s trying to knock you out.”

  Carrie nodded. “I know.”

  “But God is still able now. He’s sho’ able. And sooner than you think all these troubles will be behind you. You just trying to do right, and the Lord knows that. That devil sees it and is trying to use anybody he can to steer you wrong. That’s why Willie Charles tried to bother you. That’s why Dooney wanted you working for him. And that’s why that uppity Tyler Langley slapped you like she did.”

  Carrie looked at Millie. “Tyler Langley?”

  “Yeah. That’s the name of the woman that slapped you. She’s a big time lawyer in town, one of Robert Kincaid’s girlfriends.”

  Carrie hesitated at the mention of Robert’s name. “Robert Kincaid?” she said as if she didn’t know him.

  “Yeah. That white man that was with her that night? She was probably mad at him because she wasn’t his only woman and she decided to take her fire out on you.”

  “How do you know all of this about those white folks?”

  “Because I know. Because I ain’t blind. He bring other females into Jetson’s all the time. And they be hanging all on him too. He’s a regular there. But what I’m trying to say, Carrie, is that all of these trials and tribulations you been going through is only a test. You hold onto God’s unchanging hand and you gonna make it. You gonna be just fine.”

  Carrie nodded. Millie’s words of encouragement weren’t unlike the same sermon she’d been preaching to herself every day since she arrived in Florida. But her words about Robert were another matter. She’d been halfway expecting him to come by and check on her, just to see if she was all right. He was, after all, concerned enough to go all the way to Simms and drag her home. But she hadn’t seen or heard a peep out of him. Now she understood why. Not only was he not available, but if Millie had it right he was too entangled. That nasty Tyler Langley was just one of his women. Just one of many, according to Millie. And he was the man she once thought was her dream come true. He was the man she was actually considering calling and
asking for a job, even though she never imagined that her circumstances would get that desperate. She shook her head.

  “Don’t say no,” Millie said to her, misunderstanding the reaction. “It’s true. If God be for you, who can be against you, Carrie?”

  “No, I wasn’t shaking my head because of what you said about that, please, no. I was just . . . I don’t know, Mill. Maybe I should just go back to Georgia.”

  “No, Carrie.”

  “At least I can find a job there. Maybe save enough money—”

  “How? Even if you get a job, and that’s no guarantee, they barely pay minimum wage up there and you know it. And after you pay your rent and living expenses what money left to save? If you go back home, Carrie, you’ll never go to college. That mama of yours you told me about will take from you and take from you while men like Dale Mosley won’t hardly let you breathe. You’ll never find out how far God can take you if you turn back. You’ll be forty years old like me and still waiting tables. And pretty soon the men will stop asking. And pretty soon your mama will be dead and gone and you’ll still be right there living for a woman who never appreciated you anyhow. No, Carrie. You gave at the office. You was there when your mama needed you the most. You paid your dues. Now it’s time for you to get paid. God didn’t bring you this far to leave you. Or to let you give up.”

  Carrie found herself smiling. “Just tell me what you really mean, Millie, okay?”

  Millie laughed. “I mean God is able, child. That’s what I mean. He took care of the three Hebrew boys in the fiery furnace. He took care of Daniel in that lion’s den. He’ll take care of you too, Carrie. That’s what I mean.”

  Carrie moved over to Millie and hugged her around her neck. Then she sat beside her trying with all she had not to let the tears that seemed determined to never leave her, escape.

  Later that same night, Carrie and Mona emerged out of their apartment dressed for a comfortable night out. Mona had on jeans and a T-shirt while Carrie had on a pair of white shorts and a tucked-inside green blouse. Her socks and tennis shoes made her appear almost preppie. They were supposed to be going to hang out with some of Mona’s friends, but Carrie, all the way out of the building, down the steps of the stoop, and toward the bus stop, kept asking for details.