Gwen, Carter’s other friend, was standing at the end of the row, waiting, and grabbed Carter’s free arm after they’d cleared their row. Carter was now sandwiched between Gwen and Sandra, as the three of them scooted down the center aisle, headed for the back door of the church.
“Yes, so sorry. We’ll get her back to the institution this minute. You folks don’t worry,” Gwen said, speaking up this time, her smile in place, even if it was a little on the sickly side; but it was the best she could do, given the circumstances. Glancing over her shoulder, she noted the movement of one bridesmaid who was making her way down the aisle, following them, feet clear of shoes, ears clear of earrings.
Sandra and Gwen sped up, moving Carter along, trying not to take off in a run; a fast shuffle was the best way to describe their trek.
Carter spotted the last of her crew, Francine —Frankie for short —standing tall and formidable at the end of the center aisle, holding open the door that led into the church’s vestibule. Of the four of them, Frankie was the most fearsome, the one you wanted with you in a fight. She took the spot behind Carter as the three of them scooted past.
Once they were clear of the sanctuary, Sandra turned and looked back at the congregation, giving them a final wave, like she was some beauty pageant queen, and the congregation her adoring fans.
“Best wishes,” she said, her last words before the doors closed. They moved quickly to the door leading to the front of the church and then outside into the sun. It was the perfect day for a wedding. The sky was clear, the sun was bright; a perfect start to a new life.
Frankie had her car keys in her hand. Carter and Frankie had ridden over together, and Sandra and Gwen had come in their own cars. Frankie raised a finger to her lips to silence Carter until they were out of reach of the church doors. Her girls had her surrounded, dragging her down the front church steps and then the sidewalk, a run as fast as their heels would allow. They looked like the secret service protecting the president after a shot had been fired. They heard rather than saw the commotion behind them, choosing to silently concentrate on making their escape.
Frankie had removed herself from the back of their small pack to unlock her car doors. Gwen opened the front passenger door and pushed Carter in, closing the door behind her.
“We’ll meet you at her house,” Sandra said, over the top of Frankie’s hood, like the mission was still underway.
“Okay,” Frankie replied, sliding into the driver’s seat and starting the engine. It purred softly to life. Carter watched from the car as Sandra and Gwen walked quickly to theirs. Then she turned to find a large group of people gathered on the front church steps now, watching. A man with a camera in his hands stood recording the craziness. That big bridesmaid was shaking her fist at them standing alongside several others with cell phones, all videotaping the attempted breakup artist that was now Carter. Frankie put her car in gear and pulled away.
“I can’t breathe,” Carter said.
“Put your head down between your legs. Where is your inhaler?” Frankie said, her hand softly on Carter’s back as she sought to get her breathing under control.
“In here,” Carter said, pulling her purse into her lap. She found her inhaler and took a puff. She laid back against the car’s supple leather seats. It was quiet in the car, with only the sound of the motor breaking the silence. It would take more than a minute to get to Carter’s since she didn’t live close to the church.
“You okay?” Frankie asked.
“No,” Carter said.
“I knew it. I knew it. You were bound to do something crazy. When did you come up with this plan?” Frankie said, shaking her head.
“Where are you taking me?” Carter asked.
“To your apartment.”
Carter nodded, sat back and closed her eyes. She would not cry.
#
Thirty minutes later, they pulled up to Carter’s apartment. She lived on the ground floor of the Windgate Luxury Apartment Complex, complete with her personal garage. She moved here about a year ago—moving on up and all that—plus, her apartment was close to work and some of the best shopping and exclusive restaurants in the city. Most importantly, it was also home to a large population of the town’s wealthy single men, and that was always a good place to be, she’d been told.
Gwen and Sandra arrived soon after. They must have been following them from the church, but Carter wasn’t sure. She’d been either bent forward searching for air or laid back, eyes closed, contemplating the benefits of life as an invisible woman. If only she could acquire that superhuman skill.
Frankie parked behind Carter’s garage while Gwen and Sandra pulled into the spots available for visitors. They all met at Carter’s front door and waited while she unlocked it before following her in.
Carter kicked off her shoes, threw her purse on the coach, walked over to the refrigerator in her designer dress—she’d worn a soft, white frothy number in preparation for her and Bentley’s trip to the courthouse. Delusion was apparently a silent criminal, sneaking up on people while their backs were turned.
She pulled out a bottle of wine from her refrigerator, removed the cute cork stopper with grapes falling from the top of it and took a long swig, forgoing the search for the appropriate stemware. Who cared. She wanted a piece of oblivion—fast. She scanned the faces of her closest friends. Disappointment, sadness and worry resided on them.
She offered her bottle to Frankie, who took a quick swig herself, albeit a little more daintily than Carter’s had been, before passing it back to her. Carter offered the bottle to both Gwen and Sandra, who waved it away. Fine. More for her, she thought. She took another swig before walking and plopping down in one of the kitchen chairs. She was tired.
It was silent and still in her kitchen.
“Crazy Carter. That’s what you all are thinking, right? She’s really lost it now,” Carter said, breaking the silence.
“Was this about last night?” Frankie asked, with sympathy. She pulled out a chair and joined Carter at the table.
“What about last night?” Gwen said, looking between the two of them.
Carter offered a short nod, which Frankie translated to mean, I’m not discussing last night now.
“Did you lose your mind, girl? Who are you?” Gwen said, less sympathetic than Frankie. She joined the two at the table. Her face was a study in disappointment. “What?” she said, catching the warning looks from both Frankie and Sandra.
“That was crazy,” Gwen said, returning their looks with a stern one. “I’ve never lied to you and I’m not about to start now. We were there to support you, not to provide cover or back up for you in a fight,” Gwen said, never one to mince words. She pulled out a chair for Sandra to sit. Sandra had been standing near the window, peeking outside through the blinds, on the lookout for what, Carter didn’t know.
Carter looked away and took another swig from her wine bottle, which was now cradled in the crook of her arm. She had decided to keep the real reason for her behavior to herself. “I really wanted one,” she said, glancing at Frankie with a plea in her eyes for her to play along. There wasn’t too much playing—there was actually much truth in that statement. She did want one.
“Wanted what? An ass-kicking from a wedding party?” Gwen asked, frustrated.
“A man.”
“Not that again,” Sandra said, her hands going to her head to cradle it.
“My own man. Is that too much to ask? ” Carter responded, defiantly sitting back in her chair, glancing at their faces.
“Hate to break it to you Carter, but Bentley was taken. That’s the point of the whole wedding ceremony. Remember? The bride and groom stand side by side in front of a preacher … to take vows, to each other,” Gwen said.
“I know,” she said, looking at them, less defiant now, “But I still wanted one.”
“If you say that again, I swear, I’m going to hit you,” Gwen said.
“I’m not the only one that wants me to have
one either,” Carter said, ignoring Gwen. “My father would kill for me to have one. My stepmother and all of my wicked stepsisters have one, and not just anyone. Of course they have the really good ones—successful, handsome, love their wives—but not me. Except for Bentley, who my dad loved, I can’t seem to find one that’s even halfway decent,” she said, stopping to take another nip from her bottle.
“All the ones I’ve encountered have issues—don’t believe in settling down, taking the Lord’s be fruitful and multiply edict to the extreme. Then there’s the ones with swag; you know we black women love a man with swagger—a man’s man—one who can work you over in bed, all dominant, and commanding, all come here Kissy.”
“Who is Kissy?” Sandra asked.
Carter rolled her eyes. “I’ve been at this for two, maybe even three years now, seriously. You all know that,” Carter continued, looking between Gwen and Sandra. “The first year was filled with singles’ groups at the church; that whole pray-and-wait-on-it thing. It will come to you. Which I did,” she said, glancing at them again.
“That’s not the way it works. It will come on God’s time,” Sandra said, the ever-patient one.
“And when do you think that might be?” Carter asked. She sat back in her chair, took a long sip of wine, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand.
“It’s not for us to question God’s timing,” Sandra said.
“Anyway,” Carter said, rolling her eyes heavenward. “Since I wasn’t making much headway with God’s plan I decided to take matters into my own hands. I said ‘Carter’,” she said, pointing to herself, “Go ask the experts, the non-spiritual experts,’ ” she continued. Standing up, wine bottle in hand, she walked over to the bookshelf.
“Look,” she said, moving her arm at the row of books standing on her bookshelf. “How to Find Your Soul Mate,” she said, holding up a book she’d randomly chosen from the shelf before dropping it to the floor.
She picked up another one. “Men Are From One Solar System, Women From Another, and from this, I’ve learned that men think very differently from women. Really? I spent $25.99 less the store discount to learn that!” she said, dropping it to the floor to join the other one.
None of her friends spoke. They just listened, entranced, watching as she reached for another book. “Harnessing the Power Within to Find That Special One. This one’s about the power of my vision because whatever I see in my psyche, the world or the universe opens up to that vision, which is, in case you didn’t know it, a tall African American male—athletic, wealthy, or at least middle-class,” she said, taking another slurp from her bottle before picking up another book. “I’m still waiting for him to show up. Let’s see, Inside the Minds of Men—Where Every Woman Wants to Be,” she announced, dropping that one to the floor, too.
“Here’s a winner, Bros and The Hos That Love Them,” she continued, “I kind of liked that one. Who knew, all you need to do is be a ho in the bedroom and a good Christian woman everywhere else,” she said, dropping it to the floor to join the other in the growing pile at her feet.
Ten minutes and twelve books later, she stopped. Her girls had watched and listened as she’d covered the contents of each book, summing up what each one offered by way of advice, as if she’d memorized each item, which it appeared, she had.
“So as you can see,” she said, stopping to take another sip of wine and crossing her legs Indian-style to sit on the floor next to her pile of books, “I’ve done it all, and here I sit, without one—breaking up the wedding of the one good man I knew,” she said.
“How many ways do I have to say this? Love doesn’t work like that. I didn’t meet Michael that way. One has to be open,” Sandra said.
“Don’t tell me to be open. I am open. And what does that mean anyway? Be open. Is that like wearing a sign, ‘Open for Business’ as I smile at every man I see?’”
“Carter,” Gwen said, in the tone she’d reserved for children-trying-the-adults patience. Carter ignored her.
“I received Bentley’s wedding invitation in the mail and I thought, why did I ever let him go? What was I thinking? He was a really good one. He was your best chance at one. Then he said what he said at the bachelor party and he looked so fine that night. He may have said the rest, but all I heard was the I-want-you-back part. So I went to get him.”
“What did he say?” Gwen asked. Carter shook her head. Gwen sighed.
“He belonged to someone else,” Sandra said.
“Yes, that’s true. But people take from each other all the time, right?” Carter asked, looking around at her friends’ faces.
“Finding a man is not something that can be put on a timetable,” Gwen said.
“And why not?”
“You can’t look for it. You have to wait for it to find you.”
“There you go again, sounding like a Hallmark greeting card,” Carter responded with a humorless laugh.
“Carter,” Gwen said.
It was quiet for a minute or two.
“Thank you all for coming with me. I’m sorry I put you in the situation I did today at the church,” Carter said, looking at each of them now, tired of talking about it. “I knew if I told you what I planned to do, you wouldn’t have come.”
“Yes, we would have. However, we would have parked closer to the front door, and chosen a pew near the back of the church, and at the end of the row. Prepared for a quick getaway. Girl, did you see some of those bridesmaids? That tall one in the front, I believe she may have been a linebacker in another life! She could whip all of your you-know-whats,” Sandra said, observing her no cussing rule.
“Just look at the time,” Gwen said, standing up abruptly, looking down at her wrist, mimicking Carter’s antics at the church. She joined Frankie and Sandra in their laughter now, looking over at Carter. “You are too much,” Gwen said, laughing.
“Did I have to be off my meds and seeing a psychiatrist?” Carter asked.
“It was the best I could do given the short notice,” Sandra said.
“And you weren’t much better with your taking me back to the institution,” Carter said, passing a glare off to Gwen.
“Hey, drastic times call for drastic measures,” Gwen answered, smiling.
“You all should have seen how all of you looked almost running down the aisle,” Frankie said, amid the guffaws and loud chuckles of Gwen and Sandra. They spent another ten minutes recounting the morning’s events before their laughter subsided.
“What do you think happens next?” Carter tentatively asked.
“I don’t know. Hopefully nothing,” Gwen said.
“I don’t think attempting to break up a wedding is a crime, so you should be safe from the police knocking on your door. I hope so, anyway,” Frankie said.
“That’s not very comforting,” Carter replied.
“You should probably expect to see yourself on YouTube,” Sandra said, watching as the very notion of an amateur video surfacing settled on everyone’s face, putting a damper on the mood, returning it to its earlier somber state.
“Hopefully it won’t get much attention,” Sandra added.
“Maybe,” Carter said. “Hopefully.” But she’d forgotten about the possibility that it might not be as easy as she thought to put this behind her. This was a big small town.
Her girls stayed with her for a while longer, just to assure themselves and each other that she would be okay. Carter was fairly tough, but who really knows another person’s mental state. Today was a prime example of that. Who would have thought she’d try to break up a wedding.
“You going to be okay?” Frankie asked from the doorway. She, Gwen, and Sandra were preparing to leave.
“I’m going to bury my head in the sand for a while, maybe come out for work on Monday if the coast is clear. I’m turning off my cell for a day or so,” she said, looking down at it, noting the number of calls she’d received already from her father and sisters. They must have gotten the word—that small big town thing aga
in.
“Okay, well we’re out of here. Remember, we are only a text away,” they reminded Carter, each giving her a hug before stepping back into the sun, which had somehow managed to remain shining in spite of the day’s events.
#
Carter closed the door behind them and finished off the last of her wine, tugged the zipper on her dress and let it fall to the floor. She went in search of a t-shirt, and then straight to bed. She was tired. Last night had been exhausting. After her call to Frankie, she’d been unable to sleep, reminiscing about the good times she’d had with Bentley, and it had led her to this crazy decision to break up his wedding. Yeah, she had lost it. She was in complete agreement with her friends. She pulled back the covers of her bed and slid in, pulling them over her head.
A tear escaped. She brushed it away. No point in crying now. A man, this unending quest for a man, the final piece to make her life perfect. Her father would accept her then, maybe even love her. Her life would be perfect then. She would join her stepsisters in providing him with things to be proud of, the last successful girl in his long line of successful children. No more head-in-the-clouds Carter. Pay attention, Carter. Focus, Carter. Be more like your sisters, Carter.
And then there was Bentley, who would have been perfect. She should have placed her dreams on the back burner for him. Those dreams were now miles away from her, anyway. Another tear escaped. Was there ever a more perfect match for her? The only reason she had tried this one crazy shot was that she realized too late what she’d let go. He knew her. He got her… and she wasn’t easy to get. They’d been friends first. He should have been hers and not LaShondra’s. She sighed, closed her eyes and tried to sleep.
#
Two
Monday evening
Rafael sat in front of his computer on his desk—okay, the kitchen table. The expenses for the new irrigation system he’d recently installed were laid out before him. It had run a little over his budget and he was going to have to cut back someplace else, which could prove tough. He ran leaner than lean as it was.
When You Fall... Page 2
