“So, Sam,” Yolanda said, “tell me about yourself. How in the world did you land Hahna?”
Sam smiled and looked at me. I nodded giving him my silent permission to tell the story of how we met.
“I met her at a book signing. Our favorite author.”
I shook my head. “I have a new favorite author now, though. Sam is a writer.”
“Oh, really?” Yolanda asked. “What’s your last name Sam? Or do you have a pen name? I own a bookstore in town.”
Now this was news. Since when did Cousin Yolanda own a bookstore?
“It’s Sam Valcourt,” Sam said.
The way Cousin Yolanda squealed, it was like Sam had said his name was Jay-Z. Although, Jay-Z probably wouldn’t impress Cousin Yolanda. It would have to be somebody like Teddy Pendergrass or Al Green.
“The ladies at our store’s book club love your books,” Danny said.
Our bookstore? Oh, Cousin Yolanda found her a man that partnered with her and bought a bookstore. I wanted to high five her and shout, Go ’head Cousin Yolanda. She was another one who deserved all the good things. She had kissed every kind of amphibian in the Shady Falls creek—frog, toad, lizard, etc. Sounded like she’d found a good one.
“Sheila, come over here,” Yolanda called across the room.
Sheila, who had a plate loaded down with more food than one person could eat in a sitting, shuffled over to where they were sitting.
“Girl, this better be good,” Sheila said. “Don’t keep a big girl from her food, now.”
“Sheila, put your plate down on this table ’cause I don’t want you to drop it when I tell you this,” Yolanda said.
Sheila gave Yolanda a suspicious look but set the plate down anyway.
“My little cousin’s man here, is Sam Valcourt.”
Sheila’s eyes lit up. “Sam Valcourt, the author?”
“Yes, I am he,” Sam said. He stood to his feet when Sheila started to do a little shuffle dance that looked part like the Electric Slide, but also like a Holy Ghost shout.
“I wish I had known you was coming, I shole woulda brought my books for you to sign.”
“How long are y’all gonna be here?” Yolanda asked. “You staying til the funeral, right?”
I nodded. “Yes. We’ll probably leave the day after.”
“Oh, well, maybe we can pull together an emergency book club meet and greet,” Danny said. “It wouldn’t be much but some refreshments and some avid readers.”
“Two of my favorite things,” Sam said.
I beamed with pride at how my family and extended family were making such a fuss over Sam. He seemed to enjoy it too, which made me feel even better about bringing him home with me.
“You shoulda led with the fact you a book writer,” Tennessee said. “We need to talk about how I can get put on to that game. I heard it’s good money in book writing.”
Sam blinked a couple times but didn’t miss a step. “What kind of books do you want to write?”
“Something real. Something street,” Tennessee said. “Probably about the life of an up and coming emcee and his country-bumpkin ass family.”
“Watch your language,” Cousin Yolanda said. “We got the church folks over here.”
“Them church folk know I cuss, and they be cussing too at home,” Tennessee said. “Anyway, Sam, we definitely need to talk before you leave.”
“If anybody needs to write a book, it’s me,” Rochelle said.
I’d watched her walk up to our conversation, but I’d hoped she would just observe and move on. I had never even seen her holding a book, much less reading one, but now she needed to write one.
“And what would you like to write about?”
Rochelle looked at me and scoffed. “Probably something like that movie Imitation of Life. The one where the ungrateful ass daughter left town and tried to act like her mama ain’t exist. Mine would be different though. The mama wouldn’t die, she’d go to Atlanta and show up at one of her daughter’s fancy parties and make her daughter talk to her.”
I knew she was baiting me for an argument with her drunk ass. I refused to give it to her.
“Go on and eat your dinner,” Yolanda said, “so those carbs can soak up some of that vodka. You talking crazy, Rochelle.”
“Mmm-hmmm. Y’all know that’ll be a good book. A bestseller.”
“Go on now,” Yolanda said.
“You’d think nobody raised her ass,” Rochelle said. “Look at her. Ain’t even got up to make her man’s plate. She know better than that. Probably why she forty-two and just barely keep a man.”
Sam opened his mouth, but I touched his knee and shook my head. I had learned never to engage with her when she was drunk. My grandmother taught me that. She always told me to let her make a fool of herself, all by herself.
In fact, the whole room was silent. I remembered being embarrassed about her over the years, but I was done with that. Everyone in this room knew her except Sam. She hadn’t changed. And no, she hadn’t raised me. My grandmother had, because she could barely get up in the morning most days from drinking herself into a stupor the night before.
“You know, I think I’m going to fix Hahna a plate. I’m here to help her grieve the loss of her favorite uncle,” Sam said. “Tennessee, you want to point me to the food?”
Tennessee hopped up like the ride or die cousin that he was and showed Sam to the food. I cocked my head to one side and waited to see what Rochelle had to say to that.
“Humph,” she said, and walked over to her seat, sat down and started eating.
“Well, I guess he shut her up,” Yolanda whispered.
None of us laughed out loud, but there was definitely a shared moment of glee. That’s what Rochelle got for showing her ass. Sam was perfection, and I was going to reward him for coming to my rescue when we got to the hotel later on.
I hoped that this was enough, and that Rochelle would simmer down for the rest of the week. I didn’t need her to ruin Uncle Joe’s funeral, and neither did Auntie Sherrie.
Chapter 23
KIMBERLY
Kimberly had asked Samantha to meet her at the flower shop without the rest of the bridesmaids to ask her to host the bridal shower. She was late though, and Kimberly only had an hour and a half before she had to meet with a supplier that wanted to buy in bulk at a discount. She wished she didn’t have that meeting to go to, but she hadn’t hired anyone to handle these kinds of things yet. Kimberly was thrilled beyond belief that her business had gone from her garage to a warehouse overnight, but she hadn’t quite caught up.
Kimberly pulled her phone out of her purse to call Samantha, but just as she was about to press send, Samantha rushed into the store, out of breath.
“I’m so sorry I’m late, Kim. There was an accident on 285.”
Kim placed her phone back in her purse and hugged Samantha. “I understand. It’s fine.”
“Where’s everyone else? They all late too?”
“Oh, I only asked you to come. It’s just going to be us.”
“Really? What’s that about?”
Kimberly wasn’t surprised that Samantha was suspicious. She was a reporter, so it was her job to ask questions. But it was more than her job, Samantha just always needed all the answers.
“Can’t I just want to spend some time with just you?”
“Yes, but we haven’t done that in a long time. Definitely not since you started planning this wedding.”
“That’s partially my fault.”
“You haven’t been at any women’s ministry events, but I didn’t think you would. You’re so busy these days with the wedding and the business.”
“Life is crazy right now, but in a good way. But I have been missing my prayer partner.”
“Same.”
Kimberly pointed to pink begonias in a cluster. “What do you think of these? I know I want the bouquet to be mostly pink with a few white and blue flowers. The accents will be silver.”
“Those
are pretty, but how many of these would you need for a bouquet? That sounds pricey.”
“Well, I wouldn’t just use these. I would mix in some pink roses and calla lilies. They told me they could dye some flowers deep blue for me, to match the men.”
“And they’ll ship them to Jamaica?”
I nodded. “Yep. I’ve used this florist for years. They did recommend someone in Negril for me, though. You think I should go with a local florist?”
Kimberly shrugged. “I guess that’s up to you. If it was me, I’d go up to the craft store and make silk flower bouquets and call it a day.”
Kimberly wrinkled her nose at the thought of fake flowers for her wedding. She’d seen some beautiful silk flower bouquets in her wedding shopping, but she could afford to have the real thing and she was going to have them.
“I love real flowers. I’ve always dreamed of having a wedding reception with flowers everywhere.”
“I’ve never dreamed of a wedding at all,” Samantha said.
“Well, I dreamed of the wedding, but had no idea if the husband would ever be there. So, I get it.”
“I’m happy for you, though.”
Kimberly moved to the section of the store with roses while trying to process Samantha’s words. Was her bad attitude about all the wedding plans really about the Maid of Honor duties, or was there a deeper issue that she hadn’t talked about?
“I wanted to ask you to host my bridal shower,” Kimberly said when Samantha caught up. “Do you want to do that?”
Samantha laughed. “I don’t think the rest of your bridesmaids would be satisfied with anything I plan.”
“What? Why do you say that?”
“If it’s not over the top expensive or worldly they don’t want it.”
“I’m asking you, because I want to have a bridal shower where all my sisters in Christ will be able to come and celebrate. They can’t come to the wedding, so . . .”
“Why can’t they come?”
“I mean, some will, of course. Most folks don’t just up and travel to Jamaica for someone’s wedding.”
“Well,” Samantha said, “I know quite a few of the ladies are planning to come. They’ve found a hotel and everything. Gonna make it kind of like a singles’ retreat.”
This made Kimberly smile. It did feel sometimes that she was consumed with Gamma Phi Gamma business and primarily the lives of Hahna and Twila. They took a lot of energy and work, and Kimberly wouldn’t trade it for anything. But it was also good to have her friends that were simply uplifting. They prayed for her business and her love life, as much as Hahna and Twila. Sometimes their prayers were more persistent.
“I’m glad they’re coming. We can celebrate at the bridal shower too, though.”
“I’ll do it if you want me to, I just don’t want to hear anything from Twila and Hahna about how it’s not good enough. If this is my contribution to the wedding, it’s not going to be what they want.”
“This is not your only contribution to the wedding.”
“It feels a little bit that way. Every idea I give is shot down immediately.”
“I think it’s partially in your delivery, though.”
Samantha frowned. “What do you mean by that?”
“I’m saying this in love. The energy you bring is sometimes a little judgmental and contentious.”
“Wow. Really? Is that what Twila and Hahna say?”
“This has nothing to do with anything they’ve said. This is just my observation.”
“I can’t help it if my Christianity makes them feel judged.”
Kimberly had known Samantha was going to be defensive about this topic. It was why she’d waited so long to broach the subject. But now, Samantha’s judgmental attitude was becoming toxic to their sister circle.
“It’s not your Christianity. Christ is love. Sometimes you have to love people where they are. You can do this without condemning everyone all the time.”
“Do you feel condemned when we talk?”
Kimberly pressed her lips tightly together. Answering this question would be complicated. In truth, she didn’t feel condemned when talking to Samantha, but it was only because Kimberly censored the things she told Samantha. When she went out on the date with Shawn and then found out Ron was his daddy? That was not a story Samantha was getting. When Ron peeled her out of her Spanx and kissed and touched every part of her body? Nope. Hadn’t told her that either. Kimberly hadn’t wanted to hear about how God would sustain her until she married her husband.
“I don’t tell you certain things, because I think I would feel condemned,” Kimberly finally said.
“That’s not me condemning you. That’s the Holy Ghost that lives on the inside of you.”
“Samantha, that’s exactly what I’m talking about.”
“Well, I’m not going to stop lifting Jesus up just so you can feel better in your sin.”
Kimberly had known the conversation would be pointless. Mostly because Samantha didn’t care how she made anyone feel when it came to Jesus.
“You know . . . you always talk about lifting Jesus up, but sis, you don’t sound anything like Jesus,” Kimberly said.
“I can’t believe you’re saying this to me. I thought . . .
I thought we had a connection that you didn’t have with the others.”
“We do.”
“No, we don’t. You’re just like them. They’re just more honest about who they are.”
Kimberly’s jaw dropped. “Did you just call me a hypocrite?”
“I’m just telling the truth. Why don’t you just go ahead on and be like them? Go have strippers at your bachelorette party and everything else. Keep playing with God.”
Samantha turned and walked out of the flower shop, leaving Kimberly wondering what came next with their friendship, her bridal shower, and their sisterhood. And for the first time in a very long time, Kimberly didn’t want to run to Twila and Hahna for help. If this issue was going to be resolved with Samantha, it was going to have to be another way.
Chapter 24
TWILA
I decided to accept DeAndre’s offer for a date for a couple reasons. One, because I needed to get my mind off Alexander Adams. Thoughts of what I should do with that information were consuming my brain, but I still hadn’t made a decision on my next steps. Two, because I was curious about what Dr. Mays told me to ask DeAndre. If he was averse to therapy, then I could probably nip this entire thing in the bud.
I wasn’t even sure if it was a thing. We’d worked out together a few times. Had a few breakfast smoothies and a few conversations. We followed each other on social media. Did that mean we were moving towards a thing?
He’d picked Top Golf for our date, and I chose to meet him there, even though I trusted him. I just felt some kind of way about having him pick me up from Hahna’s house. It wasn’t his business that I wasn’t living at home, nor was it his business to know where Hahna lived. Plus, if things went left, I could have Kimberly bail me out with an emergency call.
I watched him as he examined the golf clubs for his first turn. He didn’t look like he knew what he was doing, but he was fine as hell in his ignorance. Those snug jeans and fitted shirt showed off his perfect body, and I appreciated him for accentuating the positive. Women, well this woman, liked eye candy too. He took his shot and made a horrible score. I covered my mouth with my hand as he came back to the table.
“Have you done this before?” I asked as he sat and looked at the menu.
“I have not.”
“So, why did you invite me here?”
“It seems like the kind of place you might like. A lot of people, good drinks, and a physical activity.”
His perceptiveness pleased me. “You are correct. If you would’ve asked me where I wanted to go, I probably would’ve said a place like this.”
“Well, I’m glad you trusted me.”
His lips mesmerized me as he spoke, so I looked down at the menu. “I think I want a big d
rink with lots of alcohol in it.”
“Long week?”
“Yes. I had some really tough cases. A reality TV star that got a little money and decided to get a mouth full of implants. Her teeth were almost completely rotten and crumbling. She’d been wearing grills and cheap veneers. I earned every bit of my money on her.”
“Yikes. Grills are still in?”
“I guess.”
We used the little computer on the table to order our food and drinks, and it was my turn to take a golf club swing. I didn’t fare much better than DeAndre, but he laughed at me. Okay, with me, ’cause I cracked up too.
I sat back down at the table. “How was your week?” I asked. “I bet we share some clients.”
“We might. And if not, we can sure refer business to each other. I’m always open to take on another client,” DeAndre said.
“I’ll send you some. My patients range from classy, bougie, ratchet, to savage.”
We both laughed at this. It felt good to laugh and just feel light. That’s what DeAndre brought me. Levity.
“My week was a little crazy,” DeAndre said. “I’ve been working late every night except tonight.”
“I know what that feels like. Lately, I’ve been trying to give myself more time for self-care.”
“That is very important. When I was corporate, I used to take days off for mental health breaks. It’s harder to do that now that I’m working for myself.”
“Isn’t that the crazy part? When you’re a boss, you have to grind harder than when you work for someone else.”
DeAndre nodded in agreement. “Nothing but truth. What do you do for self-care? Let me guess, long baths, expensive sushi, wine . . .”
“All that. And therapy.”
I waited for DeAndre’s composure to crack. It didn’t.
“I went to therapy after law school. Put myself under so much pressure to get with the right firm, and then I didn’t get hired where I wanted to get hired. Had a bit of a breakdown.”
Wow. I did not expect that at all. I felt myself warm to the idea of dating him for real and it scared me a little, but not enough to make me cut and run. I could imagine seeing this through.
All the Things I Meant to Tell You Page 15
