Forgive Me

by Stacy Campbell

  “May I?” she asked.

  She looked at the trail of messages. Yvette knew her so well that she wrote and responded in her voice.

  “Emory, I didn’t send these messages.”

  “They’re from your number,” he said.

  “I had lunch with Yvette two weeks ago, and it appears she snatched my phone for Match.com purposes.”

  “Duped again, heh?” Emory stood to leave. “At least I’m not being embarrassed in a room full of people this time.”

  “Stay, please.” She took his hand and led him to the living room. After they were seated on the sofa, she faced him. “I’m glad Yvette reached out to you on my behalf. I’ve missed you so much since the night of the party. I’ve felt off-balance without you. I didn’t realize how much I loved you until you were gone.”

  “I’m sorry for not responding initially. I felt like a fool proposing to you in front of everyone and you turning me down. Your family and friends pulled together to make the night special, and it blew up in my face.”

  “Emory, I’ve been stuck since my husband died. I don’t trust anyone, and the minute someone gets close to me, I clam up.”

  “What does that have to do with me? I told you while we were dating, I’m not your deceased husband, and every woman isn’t Aruba. You have to get past your hurt at some point.”

  “I’m working on it. Believe me, I am. Lillith had a cancer scare which has brought us closer. I understand a bit better why she abandoned me when I was younger. And Emory, the bitterness I feel has physical manifestations. My chest hurts when I think about Aruba or Winston. I can’t breathe sometimes, and Nicolette says my face wrinkles when I’m angry. I’m too young to be this mad all the time.”

  “I agree. You’re moving in the right direction. I’m proud of you.” He let her words sink in. He hadn’t noticed her svelte figure until now. “I’m guessing your weight loss is part of your transformation?”

  “Yvette has been dog-walking me, Emory! If we’re not at the park walking, we’re at Planet Fitness or one of the local CrossFit locations. I didn’t know burpees went beyond babies.”

  “Same here. I love to cook and eat, but it feels like I’m digging my grave with my teeth,” he said.

  “If you’re willing to put up with my mistrustful ways, I think we could balance each other out well,” she said.

  “Are you willing to try again? I’m talking tortoise pace.”

  “Yes, Emory, I’m willing to give us another try.”

  They hugged as the team of matchmakers, who had snuck up from the basement, eavesdropped and high-fived at the sound of the reunion.

  Chapter 31

  I’m spending Thanksgiving at the Marion County Jail. Lake signed himself into the facility, incredulous his time had been wasted on his wife’s poor decisions. Sign-in time was forty-five minutes prior to the visit. During that time, he presented his ID, stood still for the security wand, and had his belongings placed in a locker. He didn’t realize how fortunate he was until a ruckus three persons ahead of him broke out. A woman had been arrested within the last three months, so she was unable to visit her daughter. She was escorted from the line by a security officer. His limited experience with the law was aided by Jamilah’s expertise. Just as she had helped Tawatha with her legal troubles, Jamilah assisted Lasheera with her case. She was unable to get a bondsman due to the holiday, but she was scheduled to be out of jail first thing Monday morning. She had four more days to ponder her mistakes. Lake, ambivalent about her innocence, wavered about visiting her. He relented after Aunjanue convinced him Lasheera needed him now more than ever. He weighed her words as Lasheera sat behind a glass partition. She pointed to the phone to his left; he picked it up to speak with her.

  “Happy Thanksgiving, Lake.”

  He nodded.

  “I’m sorry you have to be here. I know you planned this holiday months ago for us. Dinner was supposed to be at our house with everyone.”

  “It would be better if you were home.”

  “I know.”

  “Why, baby?”

  Lasheera shrugged and touched the glass.

  “You have to give me more than a shrug. We’ve been through a lot together, and for the past few months, I’ve learned more about you from other people than you.”

  Lasheera bit her bottom lip and watched as Lake planted his elbows on the small space in front of the window. During her time on the streets, she’d convinced herself a man like Lake didn’t exist. Not for women like her. She also knew she’d never get married. Too many mistakes had been made; too many slipups had come between her and happiness. The evening she took Aunjanue to an art fair at Lincoln Middle School, she had no idea a teacher would capture and keep her attention. Love, then marriage. The baby carriage bit was altered somewhat since she had a child, but Lake accepted Zion as his own and loved them all equally. The only other incident that topped his undying love was allowing Aunjanue to join their family. He had been good to them, and staring into his loving eyes, she couldn’t muster an excuse for her behavior—not a single one. So, she plowed forward with what she could—the truth.

  “The police said I did a rolling stop on Allisonville Road.”

  “Said, or did you do it?”

  “Lake, that’s the thing. I can’t remember. I left the house for something, and the next thing I know, I was being chased by the police.”

  “Do you expect me to believe you’ve had all these memory lapses?” he asked.

  “I have. It started…” She paused.

  “It started when?”

  “A few months ago, I picked up the wrong prescription at Walgreens. I meant to take it back, I did, but I’d been having trouble sleeping, and I heard Ambien was good for insomnia.”

  “So, the Advil story was a lie?”

  “Yes.”

  “So, you haven’t been having chronic headaches?”

  “No.”

  “What do you want me to do? How do we move on from this thing?”

  Her heart palpitated. She knew he would come to the lockup demanding a divorce. She’d seen countless stories of spouses leaving their loved ones in jail. No letters, no phone calls, no money on the books. Her husband, used the words move on from this thing.

  “You don’t want a divorce?”

  “I come straight, no chaser, Lasheera. I was minutes away from walking out of this jail and going home. Zion is with Marvin, and Aunjanue is having dinner with Robert and J.B. today.”

  “What is Zion doing with Marvin?” She moved closer to the partition and placed her hands on the glass.

  “Jamilah didn’t tell you? CPS took Zion Tuesday. Someone reported the incident you had at the pharmacy, and Marvin reported the fact you didn’t appear in court.” His hand met hers. “When were you going to tell me about the incident?”

  The lies stacked up quickly. She didn’t know how much longer she could hold in all the hurts and disappointments she’d experienced. First, she felt inadequate after regaining custody of Zion. Whenever she attended school functions or parent-teacher conferences with him, she couldn’t express how her drug use affected her ability to help Zion with his homework. Lake helped him most times, but she wanted to be an active participant with his math and Spanish assignments. There was also the fear of not being able to parent Aunjanue well. When she moved in, most nights were sleepless ones; she and Lake took turns listening out for her as she thrashed back and forth in bed, calling on Tawatha, or her siblings. After the night Aunjanue stayed awake all night because she wanted her sister and brothers to come home, Lake made the stay-at-home executive decision. “Someone has to hold down the fort,” he said. Some fort-holder I am.

  “I don’t know when, but I wanted to tell you. I couldn’t find the words, Lake.”

  “How bout, ‘Lake I’m stressed and I need your help?’ ”

  “I—”

  “Or how about, ‘Lake, I’m overwhelmed and I can’t do this without you?’ ”

  “Baby�
�”

  “When I said I do, I meant it. The better, the worse, the sickness. But I can’t be in a marriage with someone that doesn’t talk to me. You know what I’ve felt like the last few months?”

  “What?”

  “Like I have a wife who’s watching me walk near the edge of a cliff and doesn’t have the common courtesy to yell out, ‘Hey, wait!’ ”

  Lasheera dropped her head.

  “I accepted you while knowing you used drugs in the past. I accepted your son, our son, Zion. I didn’t mind taking in Aunjanue. But I don’t do blindsiding well. Not at all.”

  “What can I do to make this up to you?”

  “Stop lying to me. Be honest. I’m not dumb enough to think you’ll tell me everything, but can you at least give a brother a heads-up?” He made a gesture for her to press her face against the glass. When she did, he stroked the side of the partition with his finger, his attempt at caressing her face.

  “Is Aunjanue angry with me? Is that why she didn’t come?”

  “She’s not your biological child, so she couldn’t come. Since you’re getting out Monday, it made no sense to add her to the visitor’s list.”

  “I don’t know how I’ll face the children Monday,” she said.

  “With a smile on your face and with humility.”

  “I’ve been thinking,” she said.

  “About?”

  “I’ve been so upset since Tawatha got out. I’ve ignored her. I’ve criticized her, and look at where I am right now.” She scanned the lockup and narrowed her eyes on the inmates to her left and right.

  “You can’t compare the two situations. Are you saying you want to see her?”

  “I don’t know what I’m saying. Maybe I’ve been wrong. I don’t know how I would have felt if you didn’t come see me today.”

  “I’m here. You have to get your priorities together, ’Sheer. We can’t stay married if you don’t.”

  “I know.”

  “By the way, Stephanie took Aunjanue home the other day after CPS took Zion.”

  “Stephanie and Caleb were there?”

  “Unfortunately.”

  “Now they think I’m a criminal.”

  “Baby, they stopped by after the news story. Channel 13 viewers saw you being arrested.”

  “What did they say?”

  “Zion and Aunjanue’s safety was important to them. Stephanie took Onnie and Caleb stayed with me. No one is judging you.”

  “What if Stephanie had gone into labor over the stress?”

  “She didn’t, and it’s all good.”

  A jailer tapped Lake on the shoulder. “Your thirty minutes are up, sir.”

  “Jamilah will be here Monday for your court appearance. Where is the Ambien?”

  “Excuse me?”

  “The rest of the Ambien. I don’t want any in the house when you get there. Is there a stash I need to get rid of before you come home?”

  Not wanting to lose her good thing, she answered, “In back of the closet…in the Jimmy Choo box.”

  Chapter 32

  “Tap it lightly, and make sure the powdered sugar covers the pound cake,” Roberta said. “This cake is for J.B., and you and Roger can eat the one with the five-flavor glaze.”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  While Roger and J.B. sat in the den watching sports and talking life, she stayed in the kitchen finishing desserts with Roberta. Aunjanue didn’t want to see Lasheera in jail; one adult with legal troubles was all she could handle. The image of Zion rolling away in the CPS van still disturbed her. She knew that ride all too well; Roberta was her refuge after she and her siblings took that ride. Grateful that Mr. Wilson and his wife, Stephanie, invited her to dinner for Thanksgiving, she declined their offer, choosing family instead.

  “Grandma Bert, why don’t you sit down?”

  “I’m fine, Onnie. I need to get these two cakes done before I go back to watching Lifetime. J.B. thinks he’s slick watching sports, but he’s got another thing coming when that marathon starts.”

  “You need to sit down. Let me help you to the table.” She coaxed her grandmother to sit, the loudness of her shuffling feet filling the kitchen. Her grandmother’s step lessened each time she saw her. Roberta plopped in a recliner JB pulled into the kitchen and exhaled.

  “Whew. Roberta’s no spring chicken anymore!”

  “You are a spring chicken, Grandma.”

  “In my mind.”

  “In mine, too.”

  “That cake looks pretty good. Onnie, you did a darn good job today helping me with the cooking. J.B. did his grill-master duties, didn’t he?”

  “Everything was so good. I’m still stuffed from all the food. I’m not sure when we’ll get to dessert.”

  “In due time.” Roberta leaned into Aunjanue. “That Roger is sho ’nuff cute. Got good manners, too.”

  “He is nice. I’m surprised he came today since he’s been so busy visiting colleges.”

  “You mind if I ask you something?”

  “No, ma’am.”

  “A while back, we talked about, you know, life. You changed your mind yet?”

  Aunjanue tried to conjure up the life discussion.

  “Which talk?”

  Roberta leaned closer. “Are you still saving yourself?”

  “Oh, that. Yes. I don’t want to get pregnant, and I don’t want to ruin my future.” Aunjanue dropped her voice a few octaves. “The only man I want to have sex with is my husband—if I get married.”

  Roberta wondered which side of the family birthed Aunjanue’s mindset since Tawatha was a product of an out-of-wedlock relationship. Furthermore, Tawatha continued the trend by having out-of-wedlock babies. When Roberta looked at her granddaughter, she saw the realization of answered prayers. She was tired of the women in her family settling for less in relationships and marriage. Maybe, just maybe, Aunjanue would reverse the trend.

  “Come here, Roger,” Roberta called to the den area.

  “Grandma, what are you doing?”

  “You mind your business and I’ll mind mine,” said Roberta.

  Roger emerged from the den area. He wore slacks, a nice dress shirt, and a matching tie. He was unlike most of the young men Roberta saw around town who thought sagging pants and wifebeaters gave them the stupid street cred title. Roger, a gentleman and a scholar, joined them at the table.

  “J.B. getting on your nerves in there?”

  “No, ma’am,” he said nervously.

  He sat next to Aunjanue and placed her hand in his.

  “So, what are your plans for the future, son? I know I’m springing this on real quick, but I’m going somewhere.”

  He eyed Aunjanue. He wasn’t prepared for a pop quiz, and he hoped her face held the answers. No luck.

  He stammered. “I’ve been accepted at IU. I have a full scholarship. I plan on studying international business, and I’ll be playing football.”

  “NFL, or a career?”

  “Both. I want to explore all my options. My mom and dad said I shouldn’t limit myself when it comes to my career.”

  “How do they feel about my granddaughter? I mean, about you dating her?”

  He held Aunjanue’s hand closer. “They think the world of her.”

  “What have they told you about getting married?”

  “Grandma!” said Aunjanue.

  “Quit harassing those children, Bert!” J.B. called from the den area.

  “Keep watching your game!” she shouted back. She refocused her attention on Roger and Aunjanue. “Where was I? Oh, marriage.”

  “Honestly, ma’am, I don’t know if that’s even on the radar. I want to get finished with school first. At least get a master’s degree. Plus, my dad said the NFL and marriage don’t mix. He said to keep my options open in that area, too.”

  “Ding, ding, ding!” Roberta clapped her hands as if she’d won a game show.

  Aunjanue and Roger looked at one another.

  “I’ve seen you two all h
uddled up together, but I wanted to have a heart-to-heart with you all. You don’t mind, do you?”

  “No, ma’am,” they said in unison.

  “When I lived in California, I met this man who swept me off my feet. I was a student back then, and you couldn’t tell me nothing! I was a bona fide brick house.”

  “Brick house?” Roger asked.

  Roberta curled her lips. “What do you young folks call a fine woman these days?” she asked.

  “A cold piece,” he said.

  “Bam! That was me.”

  “Anyway, I was a smart student. I had dreams and goals, but I got pregnant, and it slowed me down a little. Actually, I let it stop me. If you think about it, I didn’t have half the opportunities back then you all have now. All I’m saying is that you should take advantage of your education and go as far as you can. It makes no sense with all this technology, scholarships, fellowships, and everything else known to man, that young folks can’t read or write, let alone fill out a simple job application by hand or online.”

  They nodded in agreement.

  “Grandma Bert, may we go in the den now?” Aunjanue asked.

  “One last thing. Take your time. You both have plenty of time to do what you need to do. Don’t rush into anything you can’t handle later on.”

  Aunjanue didn’t see the pep talk coming, but she was glad it happened. No one said anything the last time she was at the Keys’ house, but there was tension in the air since her mother had been released from prison. Roger’s mother, Eva, wasn’t as welcoming as she’d been in the past. His father, Dexter, was still a fun-loving and jovial character, but something was amiss. Her suspicions were confirmed after she heard snatches of their conversation as the couple gardened one evening. She heard her name mixed with the words unsuitable and abandoned as they pruned weeds. She vowed to enjoy her time with Roger, but she knew they weren’t guaranteed a future together.

  “Thank you, ma’am,” said Roger. They left Roberta and returned to J.B. in front of the television. Aunjanue remembered how much her grandfather like eating cake while watching the game.