Beautiful Liar

by J. Jakee

  “A good friend of mine works out here. At least I could pay her a visit.” She smiled big. “So it worked out.”

  She had a light about her as if she could be friends with all personalities. She was one of those people who effortlessly balanced the tightrope line between “Very Approachable” and “Not to be Messed With.” She was friendly yet feisty. I could tell all of this from the shoes she wore, the bag she carried, the blinging watch she wore, her stiletto styled nails, and the eyes that adorned her nearly wrinkle-free face. She placed two workbooks and two bejeweled pens on the table. Then she reached into the tote and pulled out two bibles. I picked up mine and waved it proudly.

  “I brought my own.”

  “Girlfriend, that thing has never been used. You’ll have a tough time keeping it open. Plus, when you leave here you’ll throw it on the nightstand and never pick it back up."

  "How do you know it's brand new?"

  "Child, look at it. It’s crisp!"

  She slid hers across the table. It was pink and had a rose and pearls graphic art design on it. Woman Thou Art Loosed was printed across the top. "This bible has gotten me through! Let me tell you."

  She closed her eyes and shook her head, which caused her hair to sweep gently across her bronze, and rose blushed cheeks. She looked like she went on a quick trip down memory lane. When she returned, she opened her eyes and went on.

  “It's a study application bible, and it has daily devotionals" She reached over and flipped through the pages. "See? It's no standard KJV. You won't have to worry about getting lost or getting bored. It's yours now. Take it."

  I picked it up and hugged it. "You are so generous, Deaconess Michelle Camper."

  "Call me Deaconess Michelle or Deaconess Camper, and take that suit jacket off, honey. You are making me sweat! I know I don't look my age, but my body knows how old I am." She fanned herself with her booklet while I removed my jacket exposing my shoulders, bust, and cream camisole.

  We were supposed to follow the outline of the booklet, discussing The Holy Trinity, Salvation, Fellowship with Christ: The Word, Prayer, and Tithes, and Ministry. Moments into our cram session, she had me feeling completely comfortable and eager to learn more about God. My nerves were gone, and I felt like I'd known her my entire life. We did just as much talking as we did reading. It didn't feel like a class at all, but a woman to woman chat on life and God, and entwining the two.

  We were moving along pretty quickly until we reached the topic of prayer. We lingered there because it was where I had the most questions and needed the most understanding.

  "Shoes, a dress, a purse that needs to go on clearance before I make the purchase... I can go to God about that?"

  "Girl, anything." Deaconess Camper sipped her tea and smiled.

  I flagged my hand. "Whatever. Jesus doesn't have time for that. He's busy saving starving babies in third world countries."

  "It's not about what you're asking for. It's about conversation and establishing a relationship. If going to God about material things is what sparks conversation between you two, then so be it. I can assure you that in no time, your desires will shift, your prayers will no longer be shallow, and your relationship with The Almighty will strengthen, because that's just how He moves. He will turn it around. He'll transform you." The deaconess gently pounded the table, "Mmmm Mmmm Mmmm. He's so good!"

  I lifted my teacup and sipped, just as a signal to remind her that we were in a tea brewery… not church.

  "And, he's an on-call God. On time and on-call. You can go to Him whenever you want, however many times you want, and wherever you are. He will be there because like we just learned, God is--"

  "—God is omnipresent." I flipped a few pages back to my notes and read: "Proverbs 15:3 ‘The eyes of the Lord are in every place, beholding the evil and the good."

  Deaconess Michelle nodded proudly, "You got it, sweetie."

  "He's also omnipotent. Luke 1:37 “For with God nothing shall be impossible."

  "Go 'head and show off if you want to."

  I laughed. "And..." without having to read it, I said, "He's omniscient. 1 John 3:20 “For whenever our heart condemns us, God is greater than our heart, He knows everything."

  "Amen... Amen"

  "He sounds like the ultimate father."

  "He is, The Ultimate Father."

  "Wish mine was more like Him.... He's such an ass Deaconess Camper."

  Her eyes bulged, but not in a judgmental, condescending way.

  "I'm sorry for my language."

  "Take your time, and speak your heart."

  I said, "When I was growing up, people used to think that I was lucky because he's so famous around Delaware. He’s been on television a couple of times, and he’s well respected. They considered me blessed. They don't know how much of a burden it really is to be Walter Victor's daughter."

  I paused to bite into my biscuit. Reading the Deaconess's facial expression that was all twisted up, I reasoned with her. "Don't worry I'll get into details some other time. This'll spoil our meeting."

  She mouthed my father’s name.

  “I’m sure you’ve heard of him. Let me tell you that my father has always been a ball of anger, except in public. In the courtroom, he comes off likable. It’s his wrinkled face, grey hair, and corny sense of humor that seems to win jurors over.” I sipped my tea. “I know this because I've watched him in action once.”

  His name must have registered with her, because she looked at me as if something clicked. "Your father is Walter Victor… Walter Victor the criminal defense attorney?"

  I made air quotations, "Delaware’s best."

  She looked mortified. Her mouth wouldn't close, and she placed her hand on her chest.

  "Let me guess. He got your offender off the hook?"

  She wouldn’t make eye contact with me anymore.

  I felt bad for her. I spoke carefully. "I'm so sorry for whatever it was that happened. From the look on your face, justice wasn't served.”

  Her hands shook as she packed her tote and stammered, “I… I really need to go…”

  “What? Why?”

  I stretched my arms to stop her.

  "Wait, wait, don’t leave! Whatever it is, we can talk it out – unbiased. Don’t let your experience with him come between us."

  She began shaking her head and jumped to her feet. "I can't do this. I'm sorry. I just can't do this!”

  Before I got a chance to stand and try to calm her down even a little bit, Deaconess Michelle was outta there.

  CHAPTER 34

  After the deaconess abruptly left, an uneasy feeling lingered all of that evening and at random times throughout the week. Saturday morning rolled around and her look of horror still haunted me while I did my face for Marley's bridal shower. There were a few times I'd pause in the middle of getting dressed and contemplated reaching out to her. Nevertheless, every time I picked up my phone, I lost the courage to press the contact button. A part of me feared the unknown. Maybe I’m better off not knowing... but what if it’s something that could damage my reputation? What about my bible classes and earning respect from the church?

  I arrived at the shower in a somber mood that I thought I'd shake by the time I got there. I was thirty minutes early since I had to crash it. They hosted it in a rented conference room at some hotel I've never noticed located in Downtown Wilmington, small room big enough for only about sixty people. The hotel staff had no clue that it was supposed to be an invitation only event, so I was happily escorted down the correct hall.

  I sat pretty with a resting bitch face, wearing a peach linen romper set, gold chunky jewelry on my neck, wrists and ears, and gold strappy sandals. My curls had loosened and graced me with sexy beach waves, and my makeup was regal. I made it a point to floss for Marley’s bridesmaids. I wanted them not only to be pissed that I showed up anyway, but to hate me even more for how disgustingly gorgeous I looked. Judging from their outfits last time, they'd be no contest, probably rocking summ
er frocks and Target flip-flops.

  The bridesmaids started arriving about fifteen minutes later. The short skinny one associated with Trav was the first to come. The rest of them arrived together. Each of them did a double take after seeing me sitting at a table opposite of the entrance. They whispered and laughed obnoxiously amongst each other, but neither of them had the balls to approach me or try to escort me out. Instead, they tried their best to keep their eyes from my direction while they decorated with tacky Dollar Store paper streamers that no one uses for anyone after their second birthday party.

  The centerpieces consisted of foiled wrapped paperweights, confetti, and heart shaped Mylar balloons that made it difficult to determine the color scheme or theme. Who doesn't choose a theme? It’s a bridal shower for goodness sake! Of course the heavyset one, Trisherica, was in charge of preparing the spread of potato salad, Pathmark fried chicken, tossed salad, baked macaroni and cheese, a couple of other sides for the pathetic menu, and a tray of various cookies and sliced cakes that were wrapped in plastic like we were at a bake sale. And, it looked like the money they could have used for a caterer and event planner was spent on bottles of top shelf liquor and Simply's Strawberry lemonade.

  Sorors were the first guests to arrive, considering that we take timeliness very seriously. Gabrielle and Bailey gravitated to my area of course. From my peripheral, I noticed that the two of Marley’s line sisters, Trisherica and Shardae, looked too intimidated to come introduce themselves. Figures…Class never mixes with trash—that’s just the raw reality of it…soror or not

  When Marley made her grand entrance, she should have received a nomination for an Oscar with how well she played the "surprised" role. I even overheard her telling her bridesmaids how wonderful of a job they did with the planning. Lie. Extreme lie. Marley worked the shower like a celebrity. Our sorors gathered around her, fawning about how good she looked, and even asking her for makeup and fashion tips. I, on the other hand, was bored, hot, and underwhelmed. Therefore, I was the first one of us to escape.

  "I'm gonna go."

  I hugged Marley from behind while she sat at her personally decorated table chowing on red velvet cake. She wiped icing from her mouth and smiled. With twinkling eyes she said, "Aww. Here let me walk you out."

  As much as I didn’t want to admit, she looked gorgeous in her white goddess style maxi dress. She had her hair braided in an up-do, and the entire ensemble made her look taller, something like a super model, and like a Nubian Princess.

  "Thank you for the monogrammed candle holders. I’m gonna use them for our first romantic in-house dinner." Marley walked me through the lobby of the hotel. It just so happened that Trisherica was already occupying it with a plastic red cup full of alcohol in one hand and her cell in the other. “Thanks for coming. I hope you had fun."

  I raised my eyebrow and laughed.

  "Why are you laughing?"

  I nodded my head in the direction of her inebriated line sister. "Your girl didn't invite me."

  Marley shook her head. She didn't want to believe it.

  "Invited everybody except for me. Shady. She even invited Delilah. Delilah. My stylist."

  "Your address changed. I gave the addresses months ago. I must have given them the wrong one."

  "You are so naïve, Marley. When will you wake up? She didn’t mail out invites. She sent tacky little evites, girl! Perfect for a tacky little bridal shower."

  Marley tilted her head and softly asked, "Why are you always so rude? Maybe that's why you weren't invited. Your attitude sucks sometimes, Nola."

  "You're backing her up?"

  Marley lifted her hands. "I'm only giving the benefit of doubt."

  "They ganged up on me few months ago." I pointed to Trishaerica with my thumb. “Whether you choose to believe it or not, she purposely excluded me...which I should have been grateful for. Everything was a mess, the food was blah and cheaply put together, yet there is a table in there with $200 worth of liquor. You don't even drink!"

  Marley folded her arms and said nothing.

  "Had you not been so distant and acting different, I could've done better than this."

  "Would you have been be able to really, Nola?" she asked with lucid sarcasm.

  "What’s that supposed to mean?"

  Right then Trisherica stumbled and wobbled over wagging her phone in the air. "Is this chick bothering you, Marley? ‘Cause I got an ass-kicking reserved just for her."

  She sized me up, and I backed down. I wasn't a fool. Home girl was huge. She would've mopped me! I turned around and headed for the doors. About three steps forward, I felt cold liquid smacking my back and dripping down to my legs. The bottom of my hair was damp and the stench of daiquiri groped me. NOW she had gone too far. I dug in my purse for my stun gun.

  ***

  "Nola, what gonna be when you grow up?"

  I was just pulling my head from under the bathtub faucet when Dominic asked. He handed me a towel and patiently awaited my answer. I stood up and patted my hair with it.

  "Dom I think I like it better when you quiz me on trains. The life questions are tough."

  I tossed him the towel, stood in the mirror, and frowned. I finger combed my hair trying hard to make sense of the curly disaster. My hair was supposed to last me two weeks. "Ugh! I shoulda stun-gunned that hoe!"

  After Trisherica caught sight of my blinged-out stunned gun, she lost it and charged towards me. Unfortunate for her, because she slipped on the alcohol she had just thrown on me. Unfortunate for me, because I was excited that I could finally put the stun gun to use, but it wasn't needed. The floor took karma into its own hands, and Trisherica was knocked out cold.

  "Nola I like you like this." Dominic was in the mirror smiling behind me. "You are beautiful."

  I melted. "You think I should wear it like this more often?"

  He nodded.

  Diing… Diiing… Diing… Diing

  "I'll get it!" Dominic's eyes lit up as he charged downstairs for the door.

  "No! Let the manny get it," I called to his back. It was late evening, and since no one was expecting company, I assumed it was the pizza delivery guy. The manny always ordered himself pizza.

  "Nooooola!" Dominic's voice carried from downstairs. "It's Silas!"

  I huffed and wrapped my hair in a dry towel. When I got downstairs, Silas was holding white roses. I was annoyed. The last time I was with him, I told him that he needed to cool it with the pop-ups. Yet here he was again, an apparent addict for my wrath.

  "What, do you have an infinite flower garden in your backyard?"

  "Just take them."

  I snatched the roses and tossed them to the manny who was curled up on the sofa pretending to mind his business. He smiled and sniffed them.

  "Silas, look." Dominic lifted a box and shook it. "New model steam engines from England! Come help me assemble."

  I stepped aside.

  ***

  The manny and I shared the sofa watching Martin reruns while Silas and Dominic worked diligently. Dominic was so happy. Silas was the first guy I was involved with to interact with Dom. Then again, Silas was also the only guy actively interested in spending time with him. Somewhere in the middle of the third Martin episode, my phone vibrated in my hand. I just knew it was Marley offering me a well-deserved apology, but it wasn’t. It was a text from Ronnie that read: "Hey, how are you?"

  "Good. Martin Marathon with the family. You?"

  "Trapped in the church office…"

  I casually rose and carefully stepped over Dominic’s train tracks and Silas’s stretched out legs. Upstairs I pressed my hair as best as I could and brushed it into a ponytail. I threw on some denim shorts and one of my sorority t-shirts, and about fifteen minutes later, I crept back downstairs, out the door, and into my Range.

  ***

  I waved the bag. "Brought you donuts."

  Ronnie spun around from his bookshelf. Smiled…but he wasn't excited. "What are you doing here?”

 
"Surprise! It sounded like you could use some company." I sat in the chair across from his and opened the bag. “I got glazed and chocolate glazed. I wanted to get powdered, but you know how messy that gets. Oh and there’s two plain ones in case you’re that type."

  Ronnie was still standing by his bookshelf. "Nola, thank you, but you didn't have to do this. The text was just a casual checking up on you thing. There was no subliminal message."

  "It's fine. Don't worry about it. I wasn't doing anything anyway." I pulled a few napkins from an extra bag. Ronnie reached over me and began stuffing them back in. “What are you doing?"

  "I'm headed out… wrapping up. This is why I say your visit was unnecessary."

  "Unnecessary?"

  He didn't respond. He just busied himself with packing up.

  "Where you headed?"

  "A frozen yogurt joint, and I don’t wanna be late." He said it nonchalantly while zipping his laptop bag.

  "Frozen yogurt? You're passing on donuts for frozen yogurt?"

  I watched Ronnie's face for sign that he was joking. When it didn't come, I asked, "What makes you go there?"

  "It's a date."

  "A date?"

  I felt like I was being pranked. I wanted to look around to see if I would spot a flashing red button to clue me that I being recorded.

  Ronnie slid his bag over his shoulder and walked towards the light switch. "Ready?"

  "So you're serious? You're really going on a date?” I was still sitting, feeling blindsided, smacked, confused. And hurt. "Why?"

  "Why not? I'm single."

  Ronnie was pretty much holding the gates of the Friend Zone open so that I could march my little behind inside, and I refused to go. I tried everything within me to hold it together while I asked the next two questions.

  "Who is she? And how’d y'all meet?"

  As we walked to the parking lot, Ronnie told me that he met the woman last week through Marley…I could kill her. When we got to our cars, something got a hold of me and I lost inhibition. I stood in front of his car door and protested.