The Night Before Thirty

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The Night Before Thirty Page 11

by Tajuana Butler


  Louisa Montero began talking: “Remember, ladies, you only have a few more days to get those letters in,” she said. “If your thirtieth birthday is on December first, I want to hear from you.”

  Melvin Green made a few closing remarks, and the show closed out with the old-school jam of the day, “Reasons” by Earth, Wind & Fire.

  Tanya snapped her fingers to the beat, but her mind couldn't help but go where it went every time Louisa Montero mentioned that contest. Tanya imagined herself in South Beach or chilling out on the deck of a cruise ship sailing to the Bahamas. Her thirtieth birthday was on December first, but she wanted to spend her special day with Chris. There was no way they'd be anywhere tropical on her birthday. Chris hated to fly, and if he couldn't get there by car in less than five hours, he pretty much didn't bother.

  Tanya quickly let go of the idea of entering the contest. My odds of winning would be slim, she said to herself. Whoever won contests, anyway? She proceeded to cook up bacon, eggs, fried potatoes, and biscuits. Before long, Chris came dragging out of the room and took a seat at the dining-room table.

  Tanya opened the refrigerator, pulled out the orange juice, and poured a glass for each of them.

  “Breakfast smells good,” Chris said.

  She kissed him on top of his head and went back into the kitchen to get their plates.

  “Thank you, baby,” he said, and took a drink of his orange juice. Then he eased into his breakfast.

  “How did you sleep?” Tanya asked.

  “Like a baby.” He looked at Tanya and smiled. “Good,” she said, smiling back.

  She could feel his leg rubbing against hers underneath the table.

  She took his comfort level as her cue to bring up their leaving town for good. “When are we going to move away from all this madness, baby?”

  He cleared his throat. “Soon,” he replied and gave her a look that clearly said, Not now.

  If not now, then when? she thought, but was too afraid to say it aloud. Pushing through his uneasiness, she continued. “There is nothing in this city for us, so what are we waiting on?”

  “Tanya, you know what the holdup is,” Chris said defensively. Then he relaxed. “Like I said, it'll be soon. As a matter of fact, we're making a big move the first of December.”

  “What kind of move?” she asked.

  “Me and some of my boys are rolling to Texas. I got some contacts there. We gonna come back here, get it out on the streets fast, pull in a quick profit, and by the first of next year you and me will be living in a phat crib in Atlanta and then we'll start our new life.”

  “Texas—how are you gonna get there? I thought you didn't like to drive long distances.”

  “This is different. It'll take us a full day, plus we're gonna take turns driving.”

  “Chris, I don't want you to go.”

  “I knew you were gonna say something like that. That's why I wasn't gonna tell you.”

  “I already checked it out, and I can get a transfer with my job. I have money saved. Why do you have to have so much money to move with?”

  “Tanya, you know I'm not a nine-to-five kind of person. I'm not like you. I can't kiss ass for a weekly check. I have to have my own business.”

  Tanya was offended by his comment, but she pushed it aside. “You have enough to get started with your business,” she pleaded.

  “This discussion is over,” he said, and pushed himself away from the table. “I'm outta here.” He stormed past her and into her bedroom.

  Attempting to catch her breath, Tanya put her hand on her chest as she absorbed his words. She felt backed into the same corner that she'd been in throughout her relationship with him. She never had the courage to take a stand. Now, after witnessing T-Roy's death and going through the emotional process of accepting the possibility of Chris's death, she closed her eyes and summoned the courage to say the words that she'd been contemplating saying for the past few years. She followed him into the bedroom.

  “Chris, let's talk about this,” she begged, giving him one last chance to change his mind.

  “I already said the discussion is over.”

  “No, it's not over. Listen to me. I mean this. If you go to Texas, I'm leaving you. See, I don't need to live large. I just want to live. I'm sick and tired of this miserable place, and I'm ready to get out now.”

  Chris flashed her a look of disbelief. “Well, if you're big and bad enough to go without me, then you just have to do what you gotta do. But either way, I'm going to Texas.” He slid his shirt over his head, grabbed his keys off the corner of her dresser, picked up his boots, and walked into the dining room.

  Tanya followed. “So it's just that easy for you to give me up?” she asked.

  Chris was tying up his boots. “It looks to me like you're doing the same.”

  “What if you get caught?”

  “That's a chance I have to take. At this point in my life, it's all or nothing.”

  “But Chris, everything you need is wherever you and me are, together. The money is nothing. Am I not worth more than money to you?”

  Chris stood up and slid on his jacket. He eyed Tanya. They both knew there wasn't a compromise to be had. He kissed her softly on her forehead, backed up, and looked her over one more time. Then he turned around and walked out the door.

  Tanya realized at that moment that she had to save herself, because Chris couldn't save her. From the looks of things, he couldn't even save himself.

  LISE AND GRANDMA Ross pulled up to the church's family-life center, where they would spend the day, along with other members, preparing and serving Thanksgiving dinner to the homeless.

  It was a cold, breezy, clear day and Elise had made sure to get there early so they could get a good parking space, close to the front door, to cut down on the walking for Grandma Ross. Just as she was about to open her car door, Elise noticed Hattie pulling in behind them.

  “Here comes Hattie,” she announced.

  “Good, I was hoping she'd be here early to help me get things started. Aside from me, she's one of our best cooks.”

  Elise walked around the front of the car and opened the passenger door for her grandma.

  “Good morning, Hattie!” she yelled across the lot.

  “Hey, Elise. Is that Sister Ross with you?”

  “Yes, ma'am,” Elise replied.

  “Good! I'm glad y'all got here early, because she's the only one who knows how to keep the kitchen under control.”

  Elise helped her grandmother out of the car.

  Grandma Ross no longer cooked for the Thanksgiving dinners, but everybody liked having her there. She usually took her own sweet time walking around the kitchen, supervising and adding a positive vibe.

  “Hey, Hattie,” she said. “We got us some folks to feed today.”

  “Yes ma'am, and it seems like the number grows every year,” Hattie replied.

  “Thank goodness the church has grown too, so that we can afford to handle the numbers,” Elise said.

  As the three ladies walked toward the family-life center, Elise got a warm feeling being between the two of them. Serving dinner at the church on Thanksgiving was a tradition that she had participated in since she could remember. Grandma Ross had been a member of the St. Stephen's Church since back when there were only a handful of people attending. She'd been a vital part of the flourishing membership. Active in whatever capacity the pastor asked of her, she was truly one of the mothers of the church.

  She was also the only mother that Elise had known. Her biological mom died during Elise's birth. She never even got the opportunity to hold Elise in her arms. Grandma Ross was there immediately to fill her daughter's shoes as Elise's guardian, sure to tell her stories so that she would know everything there was to know about her deceased mother.

  Because Grandma Ross's lifestyle was heavily influenced by church activities, so was Elise's. Most of the ladies of the church, especially the ones who had been there several years, knew Elise well and felt
they'd helped raise her. Since Grandma Ross was busy, with her hands in everything, the women both disciplined and praised Elise whenever they saw fit. Fortunately, Elise had been a good child: As soon as she was old enough, she found pleasure in helping out. Whatever the task, Elise pitched in with a smiling face and a good work ethic. She did so through high school, and since she'd stayed in Kentucky and attended the University of Louisville, right in the city, she'd never missed a beat. When she was a kid, the church had raised funds to help pay for Elise to go away to gymnastics competitions or extended practices in other cities with elite instructors. When they found out she was opening her own gym, quite a few offered to help her in any way possible.

  Every Thanksgiving, they spent the day serving the homeless. When Elise was younger, Grandma Ross used to cook a separate meal for the two of them to eat at home, but as they'd both gotten older, they ate at the church.

  “I love Darlene to death, but don't let her get near the green beans. Remember what happened last year?” Hattie complained as she pushed open the door.

  “Let me get that door for you two,” Elise said as she held the door open.

  “I'm one step ahead of you. I talked to her last night. She's going to be in charge of the drinks.”

  “Surely she can't mess that up,” Hattie replied.

  “Surely,” Grandma Ross agreed.

  ELISE SAT DOWN on her sofa and turned on the television, hoping to catch a football game or two. She was physically exhausted from working in the kitchen. Earlier that day, Elise had found that she was pushing herself to make up for her grandma's disabilities. Grandma Ross was getting older and slower. She was still sharp as ever, but her body just didn't allow her to function as adeptly as her brain wanted her to.

  After their full day, Elise had taken Grandma Ross back to her apartment. She said she was tired and going to take a nap, and then would get up later and go downstairs to play bingo. She insisted that Elise go home and rest too. So, for the first time in her life, Elise was home alone early on Thanksgiving. It felt weird at first, but once she got into the football game on TV, being at home didn't seem so bad—as a matter of fact, it actually felt great.

  Elise waited for halftime to go to the refrigerator and sneak into the overwhelming amount of leftovers the ladies had forced on her. Just when she pulled out a dish, her cell phone rang. She walked over to her bag and pulled it out.

  “Happy Thanksgiving, Elise—this is Allen.”

  Wow. Allen! she thought. “Happy Thanksgiving to you too. I'm surprised to be getting a call from you,” she said, walking back to the fridge.

  “I hope I'm not disturbing you, with it being a holiday and all, but I'm actually working on your jackets.”

  “What are you doing working on a holiday?” Elise asked.

  “Well, all my family is in Philly, and all of my friends are with their families. So I figured I'd treat today like a regular workday.”

  “Did you at least have any turkey and dressing today?” Elise asked, looking at all that she had in front of her.

  “No, but I'm cool. Listen, I just wanted to make sure that I have the correct spelling for this little girl's name. I'm in the middle of e-mailing the order over, and the lettering looks weird. I want to make sure I get it right.”

  “Okay, what does it say?”

  “J-A-L-L-N?” he said, unsure.

  “Oh, okay. It's Jalyn. J-A-L-Y-N. I'm glad you called to verify.”

  “Well, I try to be thorough. You know how I do.”

  “Yeah, Allen. I do.”

  “All right, then, Elise. I'm not gonna take any more of your time.”

  “I'm just watching a game.”

  “Football?”

  “Yeah.”

  “By yourself?” he said, exaggerating his words. “I guess I got so involved here that I forgot about the games today.” There was an awkward silence. “Anyway, I'm gonna get back to work.”

  Elise didn't want to hang up. She wanted to keep talking. More than that, she wanted to see him—but how could she ask?

  “How long are you going to be working?” she questioned.

  “I'm almost finished here,” he replied.

  “Allen, I have enough leftovers to last me two weeks. If you want to get some turkey in your system just to say you had some, you can come over here, and I'll warm you up a plate.”

  “You would do that for me?” he said.

  “It's really no big deal. If you want, you can catch the rest of the game here.” Her voice softened as she continued. She couldn't believe she was being so forward.

  “You sure you don't mind?”

  “I'm offering, right? Let me give you my address,” Elise insisted. She gave him her information, hung up the telephone, and rushed to the bathroom to freshen up.

  INSTEAD OF PUTTING the food in the microwave, Elise put the sliced turkey and dressing into the oven, and other items that needed to be warmed into saucepans on the stovetop. When he walked through the door, she wanted Allen to be greeted with the smell of a home-cooked Thanksgiving meal.

  The doorbell rang. Elise took a deep breath and went to open it. Allen was standing there with a carton of eggnog.

  “This is for you,” he said, a smile covering his face.

  “Thanks.” She ushered him in.

  “Well, it's not exactly just for you. It's for me too. It's for us, to make the whole Thanksgiving meal complete,” he fumbled nervously.

  “Good, it'll go great with the pumpkin pie in the fridge.”

  “You have pumpkin pie? I love pumpkin pie. I was hoping you had some, but I wasn't expecting you to. What a bonus,” he said as he followed her into the kitchen.

  “And it's delicious. Here, have a seat at the table,” she said and pulled a chair out for him. He sat.

  “Did you make it?” he asked.

  “No. One of the ladies at the church did.”

  “Oh, so the leftovers are from your serving at the church today?”

  “Exactly. I didn't cook.”

  “So, how did it go?” he asked.

  “Great. We had more than enough food and more than enough volunteers. It was a success.” Elise grabbed two plates from out of the cabinet and began piling his with the edibles. “I just wish we could do more for the homeless year-round.”

  “I hear you,” he replied.

  Elise put a small amount of everything on her plate and carried both to the table.

  “Do you want iced tea with your dinner? It's sweetened.”

  “It's like that? I even get iced tea?”

  “I take that to mean yes,” Elise said, and pulled out glasses from the cabinet.

  “If you want,” she said, “we can take this into the living room and watch the game.”

  “Who's playing right now?”

  “Well, the game that was playing when you called is over. The Colts lost to the Giants. Dallas versus the Patriots just came on.”

  “Dallas is my team, but let's eat first … and talk. We can catch the second half over dessert.”

  “Okay,” Elise agreed.

  “So, how is everything going over at the gym since the robbery?”

  “Well, as you know, we've had to budget in a security guard just for the last two hours of the day. An unexpected expense,” Elise said, feeling frustrated.

  “The unexpecteds always manage to creep in, throwing off the budget.”

  “Hattie, my accountant, bought another watch for Mike's girlfriend, and the Office of Minority Services assisted him in repurchasing his books. Believe me, Gotta Flip is grateful for the assistance.”

  “That's a tough break. I hate that it happened to you. But I'm glad that everything turned out okay.”

  “I just thank God that neither of us got shot.” Elise couldn't help but visualize how pitiful she and Mike had felt, kneeling down on the concrete, frightened for their lives.

  “Me too, because if you did, I wouldn't have had the opportunity to be sitting here with you, sharing this
meal,” he said and smiled. “And let me tell you, this dressing is almost as good as my momma's.”

  Elise laughed. Allen had a great personality. She had gotten comfortable meeting with him at the gym. It was strange having him in her home, in a personal setting, but she liked having him there.

  “Hattie really is a nice lady,” Allen commented.

  “Yeah, she really is. She's been so helpful to me this year.”

  “Yeah, me too,” Allen said underneath his breath.

  “What did you say?” Elise asked.

  “Oh, nothing. When's your birthday?” he asked.

  “My birthday?” The question seemed out of place to Elise, but she answered anyway, assuming that he was making small talk. “December first. Why? When's yours?”

  “No reason. But mine's August twenty-first.”

  “Oh, okay.” Elise smiled.

  After dinner, they sat on Elise's sofa, watched Dallas clobber the Patriots, ate pumpkin pie, and drank eggnog. They conversed between plays, and Elise found herself daydreaming about them breaking into a passionate kiss. But she knew that wasn't going to happen. Allen and she were business associates, maybe becoming friends. He didn't appear to have ever looked at her as someone he would want to become intimate with. Any idea of a romance with him had to be pushed aside. So Elise forced herself to become even more into the game than usual. If he was interested, he would have to let her know.

  ASHAWNDA PACKED A bag for a weekend at her mother's apartment in Bankhead, Georgia, while Cicely prepared to take a train to Charlotte, North Carolina, to spend the weekend with her parents. Communication between the two of them had been shaky the past few weeks. At work, they were fine, like old friends. At home, things were much different. As Lashawnda attempted to keep up with Cicely's need for intimacy and stroking, she found herself growing emotionally detached. She was glad to have the break from her. Instead of spending the entire weekend with her mother, she was going to spend one night and drive back after dinner on Thanksgiving Day. She wanted to spend the rest of the weekend alone at the house to contemplate how she was going to proceed with their relationship.

 

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