Taylor Made

by Sherryle Kiser Jackson

  Then there was the ever-present tangle of two women in his mind. Pill was the one he was in covenant with, but she was fill in the blanks. That was the type of test that if he went in blindly he was sure to fail. He really didn’t know if she was in it for the long haul after what she revealed in counseling. Crystal, on the other hand, filled many of those spaces for him. She gave him choices. It would be easy to cheat with her. But is our friendship really cheating? He knew there were limits. He would never let them cross it, he thought.

  He was frustrated beyond belief that he couldn’t make a decision about school. So much so that he shut the computer down. He thought about Pill and his first session with First Lady Rawls. They were supposed to be in prayer, but his wife was gallivanting in D.C. First Lady told them when they seemed the most unlovable that is when they were to love and pray all the more for their spouse.

  Pill called to tell him that she had gotten an opportunity to stay and style an up-and-coming model for fashion shows throughout the week. She didn’t give him an opportunity to balk. She had cleared her absence with Carmen and her schedule at the shop. Contacting him was simply a courtesy. He thanked God for the small miracle of Shae and her friend with whom Pill would be staying to save the extra days of hotel expenses.

  Once again Corey was left with a vacancy. He was angry, and when he was angry, he felt weak and out of control. It always invariably brought him to his knees, sometimes before he acted upon his anger like a kid throwing a temper tantrum, sometimes after. He realized he hadn’t prayed—hadn’t really checked in with God in weeks like he used to. He pushed back from his desk and dropped down on one knee. He needed to pray for his wife. He needed to pray for himself.

  Father God, I have to start off by saying, forgive me, Lord. I know you have abundantly blessed me with a job, and a wife, and a home. I know I must seem unappreciative by not praying and thanking you for those blessings. Bless my wife. You’re making her dreams come true. I could hear her excitement over the phone. Give her the desires of her heart.

  That petition halted him. What if their marriage wasn’t what she desired anymore? This new opportunity could have her jet-setting all over the country. Where would that leave their marriage?

  Pill’s got her own thing and seems to be going in a totally different direction than I am going. We are so different. I don’t know. We might have made a mistake. Then I got this other situation. I know you can’t be pleased. I fear I’ve let things go too far. I can’t tell you what that is all about except that for the first time, I was being selfish, thinking about myself. I guess I needed a friend. First Lady Rawls says I’ve been compensating. The question I’m supposed to be figuring out is, for what? She told us the greatest petition in prayer is show me, me. Help me to see what I’m missing. You know me better than I know myself. Clear away all my distractions. I know I can’t give my marriage a fighting chance if my head is somewhere else. Help me to rectify everything I haven’t entrusted to you. Amen.

  He rose in time to hear the phone ring. He was grateful and relieved to hear the voice of his buddy Tyson once he reached the receiver in his bedroom.

  “What’s happenin’, partner?” Corey said, taking a seat on the edge of his bed.

  “Partner is right; big things are poppin’. I hope you are still in,” Tyson said in his regular raspy voice.

  “Are you talking about TW Moving?” Corey let out a half sigh, half chuckle as he spoke of the moving hauling business using both of their last initials.

  “That was WT, Westbury-Taylor, but more like WTB, Westbury, Taylor, and Briscoe. I let my man Mike in on it, and he says with five grand each, we can get a used sixteen-wheeler and space in an industrial area to do business and park that bad boy. Yo’, do you have your CDL license?”

  Corey could feel his blood coursing through his veins. Everything felt like it was being sped up. He grabbed his head in his hand to slow things. “Wait a minute. What are you talking about? Who is this dude, man?”

  Corey felt like someone snuck a peek inside his cloud-covered journal except someone hadn’t done his homework like he had done. Liability insurance would raise that number dramatically per person.

  “He’s my man from back in the day. We got to move on this right away,” Tyson said, his words, not necessarily his slow-talking drawl, emphasizing the urgency. “He thinks he got one more interested, but I told him he had to hold a spot for you. C’mon, Corey, you know this is our dream. We need you to do the start-up legal stuff.”

  “Slow down, man, slow down. I’m willing to sit down with you and Mike to talk it through.”

  “Talk it through? This isn’t a hostage negotiation, brother. Talk is cheap. You better be bringing your money to the table, five Gs.”

  Corey blew out a large puff of air. He had just prayed about needing a friend, not knowing the friend he had already had sold their idea behind his back.

  “I told you before you can’t rush this. I personally can’t afford to take five grand from my family now.” My education now. “That’s five Gs worth of food, clothing, and rent. That’s all well and good for you. If things get lean or go wrong, you can just sleep in the truck. I got a wife to consider. You’ve seen my wife, man. I’m not messing that up.”

  “Yeah, I’ve seen her. She looks like a dream crusher, but I never figured you for a guy who would walk away from an opportunity like this.” He paused, then his voice took on a jovial tone. “But, then again, I also didn’t figure you as the juggling type either—playa, playa.”

  “Whatcha talking about, man?” Corey said, as if imitating Todd Bridges’s famous line from Diff’rent Strokes.

  “C’mon, Corey, the docket guys are talking about how you brought lunch to a chick in Personnel and Chain Supply.”

  He’d forgotten about the order of Chinese food he’d taken to Crystal on his way out. He did that rather than repeat their outing where he could possibly be seen by one of Pill’s girlfriends or church members who might misconstrue it as something more than it actually was.

  “That was one time. She helped me out of a jam with a regular drop-off on my route, man. It’s nothing more than that.”

  “Honeywell didn’t get that type of courtesy. You ain’t got to explain nothing to me though, partner. I know what that is about. You got you a work wife.”

  “What?” Corey smirked at the absurdity.

  “A work wife is that chick on the job that, you know, takes care of you. She got you for some chips and a soda from the vending machine. You know the one you treat to a late lunch or early dinner. The one you work late with, you know, play house with on the job. My brother has a work wife in his office. She’s the one that sends flowers to his real wife.”

  There was a name for what he and Crystal had, and it was about as ugly as the name Bumqueisha. He didn’t even have the traditional office job, and rumors were spreading. He tried to laugh it off. “That’s how rumors get started, man. I can’t see you giving in to gossip.”

  “Well, I don’t check in with anyone inside before leaving. I park my truck and go. It’s cool though, church boy. You were always the friendly one. Since Miss Personnel is used to helping people, especially you, I need you to see if she can take my name off the suspension pending list. They know those big brown trucks are magnets for the West End police. I get in a couple of misunderstandings with the cops, and they talking about letting me go. See what you can do, man.”

  There was a period of deafening silence while Corey tried to figure out if what Tyson was asking was even feasible. Crystal had already helped him more than he deserved, and he couldn’t even be honest with her. He became painfully aware that in that respect, he had already used her. “I don’t have that type of influence, man. Like I said, she helped me once.”

  Tyson chuckled in disbelief. “I can’t believe this. I guess you ain’t trying to mess that up with her either. So, you see, I don’t have the type of job assurance you are working with. I’m on borrowed time. Briscoe is talking ab
out moving forward with the idea today, and I got to make a move.”

  Corey was standing now in hopes of catching his dream before it flew by. “How’d he even get a hold of our idea, man? Now you tellin’ me he’s running things? Don’t do this, man. Let’s continue to pace it out. We can use your uncle’s truck to pick up some more work on the weekends and build up some capital. Get a loan from the bank to match it so we can do this right.”

  “Bottom line, put your money where your mouth is. You’ll be at UPS twenty years from now still waiting for the opportunity to be right before you break out on your own. Five Gs says I’m in. Add my name to the lettering on that truck. No disrespect, if you ain’t down now, we gonna have to drop the T and keep it moving.”

  Corey could tell from Tyson’s voice that his mind was made up. This was his fallback plan. Corey’s earlier training had taught him that he couldn’t start an effective business out of desperation. It is something that he had to plan and work at all along. Although he knew it was a sinking ship, he envied Tyson’s ability to drop it all on a dream.

  Corey wondered what it felt like to be totally reckless and selfish. He had five thousand in his savings. It was his to spend. He knew his wife would have no qualms about spending almost that much on a winter wardrobe alone if allowed.

  Then he thought about his prayer. It came down to two choices again. Maybe this was a distraction. He didn’t have a good feeling about Tyson and his friend’s plan to rush into operations at all. He had to trust God on this one.

  “I guess y’all will have to drop the T then.”

  Chapter 22

  In the process of seeing himself, Corey started the workweek thinking about two of Tyson’s prophecies. Although he loved the roving autonomy of being a driver, he did not want to be there twenty years from now. He also didn’t want to be viewed as carrying on a lascivious relationship with a coworker either. He prayed that he’d find a program suitable to finish his degree and a suitable time to tell Crystal that he was married.

  His disappointing conversation with Tyson was followed later on in the week by an even more disturbing call. The phone rang as soon as he came in from work Wednesday afternoon. He had to walk through the kitchen to the den to get to the phone. He didn’t recognize who was calling from the unfamiliar area code on the caller ID until he heard his voice.

  “What’s up, Cuz?” Rico said.

  “Nothing much, where are you? Sounds like you’re at a party,” Corey said, plugging one ear as if it would help him filter out the background noise. He thought he heard his cousin say, “In D.C. with the wifey.”

  “Don’t tell me you up and got married? Please tell me it was to Monica. Lord knows that woman put in her time,” Corey yelled, surprisingly thrilled at the prospect of his cousin giving up his notorious bachelor ways.

  “Not mines; you must have bumped your head. You know marriage doesn’t fit into my lifestyle. I’m talking about your wife.” As if he had a sudden change in venue, his next words came in loud and clear. “I was with her a couple of nights ago. Let me just say she’s looking good and doing what she does best.”

  “Man, don’t play with me, Rico,” Corey barked.

  “It’s not a joke. I was in her hotel room,” Rico said.

  This brother was too nonchalant to be for real, Corey reasoned. He was also too arrogant to know they weren’t cool like that. To say they had bad blood between them was an understatement. He had to let Rico know he had crossed the line.

  “Do me a favor and don’t even mention my wife, man. I’m not playing. I will bury you if I find out you made a play for her again.” His words were rage translated. He paced a small circle between the television and the coffee table where the phone was tethered.

  “What’d you say to me?” Rico questioned. Corey could hear Rico’s boys in the background questioning why his mood changed so suddenly.

  “You heard me, man. This is not the day, and I am not the one. Take it as a joke if you want to,” Corey said, estimating in his mind the time it would take to get to D.C. to make good on his promise.

  Corey had never stood up to Rico. As kids, his mother was always there to referee. He took to heart her creed to take care of Rico like a brother. There was nothing more important to his mother than family. It was because of his mother that he always let Rico get away with his arrogant and insensitive ways.

  Rico laughed it off. “Is it like that, Cuz? Um, you’d better be glad you are Wilma Taylor’s son. For your information, my girl was getting her hair done in your girl’s suite. In fact, she told me she put Chocolate down with a real important gig this week. That’s what we do. I was calling to extend that same courtesy to you. I told you I wanted you to come aboard my entertainment media arm, The Hot Spot Party Promotions, but you sound like you got too much drama in your life right now, so, I’ll holler back.”

  “Whatever, man,” Corey said, not appreciating his little nickname for Pill, Chocolate. It reeked of cozy familiarity. At that moment, he was done with the conversation and his sorry excuse for a cousin.

  “Whatever is right. Don’t ever threaten me like that again, Corey. Family or no family, you must have forgotten I have already seen Chocolate’s birthmark. Don’t make me tell you where it is. She was a gift to you, ’cause if I wanted her then, she wouldn’t have married you, and if I wanted her now, she wouldn’t be coming back home to you. So you should be thanking me. Don’t say Cousin Rico ain’t never gave you nothin’,” Rico said before hanging up.

  Corey was trembling. He felt like he had been played in the worst way. He tried to convince himself that Rico was just trying to mess with his head like always. When the girls weren’t swarming and the fans weren’t cheering, putting Corey down was the next best thing Rico did to make himself feel better.

  Corey didn’t know what to believe now. All he knew was there would be no family Thanksgiving or Christmas if the two of them were there. If Rico knew what was best for him, he’d keep a couple hundred miles between them from now on.

  He dialed Pill’s cell phone number immediately but didn’t get an answer. He didn’t know what he would have said to her, but it wasn’t going to be just small talk.

  He remembered he had Crystal’s number programmed in his cell phone. He reached into his pants pocket for his mobile device; then he dialed up his comfort. If meeting up with her ex-boyfriend was good for the gander, then calling up a good friend was good for the goose. Crystal picked up on the third ring. She was excited to hear from him, astute enough to know something was bothering him and eager to soothe what angered him. He told her about his dream deferred as if that were the problem of the day. He didn’t mention Tyson’s name or his hookup request. In the end there was a pregnant pause that he knew she was hoping he would fill with a request, a segue, or an invitation to the next level.

  Corey contemplated meeting up with her, being with her in his wife’s absence like he had done before, except in his mind, they were not in a public restaurant. He knew he couldn’t be with her without wanting to be with her, passionately, more permanently—physically. It was only a matter of time. She was so irresistibly available. If not for Pill, then for God, he had to remember he was not available for her.

  He came up with an excuse to terminate the call. He told her he was about to take a jog—a long, long jog, a prospect he knew she was unlikely to want to join him in, so they said their good-byes. He snapped his phone closed before sending his cell phone hurling across the room.

  Chapter 23

  By the time Pill came home, Corey had marinated in his anger for two days. He had underestimated how close Pill and Rico had gotten before they met, and she had downplayed it. The thought of his cousin touching his wife, knowing her in that way, had made him physically ill. As he nursed himself back to health, he remembered one of the first conversations he had with her. Corey had been so relieved to find she had left the club without Rico that night and hadn’t looked back. He never really asked about their relationship b
efore then.

  Seeing her stunning profile underneath a spunky new haircut almost diffused his anger. He imagined meeting her at the door and helping her with her bags that had multiplied since the time she’d left. He imagined her giving him an earnest hug, and him bending down to kiss her graciously.

  He imagined this was who he was. He imagined them settling in. He imagined watching her warm a plate of leftover carryout, and him listening attentively as she explained the hustle and bustle backstage at the fashion show.

  Pill was talking, but all he could hear was Rico. She had come back to him. He watched her finger the edges of her bangs that barely hung over her hairline now. He took that as a sign that maybe she worried he wouldn’t like the new look. Maybe she had something to tell him, he thought, some grave admission.

  Who he really was didn’t let what Rico shared with him ooze, sprout, or trickle into the conversation. It erupted like a volcano that had been harboring, broke free like a dam that had been welled up. He lashed out like a fire in back draft before she could make a cup of hot tea.

  “I hear you saw my cousin while you were down there,” Corey said. “I want to know what in the heck you’ve been doing up there for the past week that you couldn’t call.”

  His tone caused her to raise a perfectly arched eyebrow in indignation. “Yeah, I saw him. What’s with the attitude?”

  “He called me, eager to tell me,” Corey said, watching her every move from his dinette stool, the muscles in his lower back sending off a flaming alarm that he ignored. “I was wondering if you were going to tell me.”

  “Maybe, maybe not. That was how insignificant our encounter was to the whole weekend. Weren’t you listening?”

  “Oh yeah, I was listening. Listening to hear you gloss over the fact that you were in the company of your ex-boyfriend. You belong to me, and I have to find out from my cousin, who I barely speak to, that you all are having a family reunion in D.C.”

  “Excuse you? I belong to you? I’m not some store purchase,” Pill corrected. Her hand was propped on her hip, empty teacup and all.