A Mighty Love

by Anita Doreen Diggs

  Debra’s body relaxed, and the worried frown left her face. She poured another drink for each of them. “Thanks. Now, tell me what you doin’ up here so early in the day.”

  “I want you to go with me to buy a TV set.”

  Debra shook her head. “Ann is comin’ over for me to braid her hair. I can’t leave the house. You and Adrienne supposed to be doin’ stuff like this together anyway. What’s the matter?”

  “I don’t really know what our problem is.” Mel confessed. He didn’t tell his sister that he had not yet been able to get it up for his wife. No man would admit to that. It was humiliating beyond words.

  They both fell silent as Mel wrestled for words. Debra went to the refrigerator and pulled out a loaf of bread and some baloney and cheese. Without saying a word, she made four sandwiches, thick with mayonnaise.

  Mel said, “Being locked up in the house with her is gonna keep me remembering the fire. When I was living here with you, I didn’t think about it all the time.”

  “That’s real bad, Mel.” Debra shook her head sadly. “For both of y’all.”

  Mel shifted in his chair. “I want to erase that day from my head.”

  “No such thing as erasin’.”

  “Bullshit. If I stayed away from everything that reminds me of Delilah”—he felt a tightness in the throat as he said her name—“it would all fade away just like we got out of Daddy’s mind after he left.”

  “How do you know we got out of Daddy’s mind?”

  “Must have,” Mel shrugged, “or he woulda come back.”

  Debra patted him on the arm. “I’m sorry you feelin’ so bad, Mel.”

  Mel gave her a grateful smile. “Thanks. You know I wanted us to get back together, but somethin’ just tells me Adrienne is itchin’ to have a baby, and I don’t ever want to try again.”

  Debra swallowed some meat and bread. “Did you tell her that?”

  “No.”

  “Why the hell not?”

  “I can’t.”

  Debra’s eyes narrowed. “That ain’t gonna work.”

  Mel was relieved to hear the doorbell ring. It was Ann. Mel drank steadily and popped his fingers to the tunes as the women set up a makeshift beauty parlor right before his eyes. He remembered when Adrienne used to sing around the house, back when they were first married. After she’d told him about her old dream, he’d coaxed her into singing some of her best blues and jazz for him. She had a nice voice, strong and rich with feeling, not like some of these no-singing little girls they blasted on the urban hip-hop radio stations. Adrienne sang for real, straight from the old school—and she’d looked sexy doing it—but it had been a long time since he’d caught her humming or singing.

  Ann took out a bag of store-bought hair and placed it on the table while Debra found a pair of scissors and a comb. When all the items were in place, Ann removed the green do-rag that covered her head and sat down on the floor between Debra’s knees. Debra started working, and, in the party atmosphere that didn’t end until the liquor ran out, Mel forgot all about the TV and Adrienne.

  Ann looked up at Mel. “You got money? We need another fifth.”

  The rum had depressed Mel, and his thoughts were running in melancholy directions. He needed a little something to lift his spirits just this one last time. He wondered if Little Jimmy was at his post yet.

  He staggered to his feet. “I’ll be back,” he said.

  The jerking movement of the elevator made him want to throw up, but he took a couple of deep breaths and the sensation passed.

  It wasn’t completely dark yet, so Little Jimmy wasn’t there. Mel was standing in the spot, trying to figure out his next move, when he noticed a kid watching him intently a few yards away. He couldn’t have been more than twelve years old.

  “What you know?” Mel asked.

  The kid shrugged. “Nuthin’.”

  “Come on, man, don’t play with me.”

  The kid sauntered away casually, and Mel followed him. They went back into the projects to a building on the other side of Debra’s. The apartment was on the third floor. When they got off the elevator, the kid pointed at a door down the hall and took off.

  Mel knocked, and a sly-looking woman in her early twenties opened the door. “The kid sent me,” Mel whispered. He had paid and turned to leave before he realized that the envelope was only half full.

  “Hey, this ain’t gonna work,” he complained. “Somebody already tapped this.” Since he was halfway drunk, Mel didn’t realize just how loud his voice was. A skinny guy who had been lying on the sofa jumped up and ran toward Mel. “Get out,” he commanded.

  The liquor had robbed Mel of his common sense. “Fuck you,” he said.

  The skinny guy punched him in the face, knocking him flat on his ass. He leaped to his feet and struck the guy with a right to the jaw, followed quickly with a blow to the stomach that made him double over in pain. Mel reached into his coat pocket. Shit! He had left his knife with Adrienne so she could open the boxes. As the guy straightened up, Mel kicked him in the stomach, knocking him backward and onto the floor. Mel jumped on the man and started throwing lefts and rights.

  The woman’s voice stopped the fighting. “I got me a gun here, and I’ma gonna shoot you right in the back of the head if you don’t get the fuck out of here right now.”

  Mel stood up and turned around to face the woman, who was indeed holding a pistol, her finger on the trigger.

  Mel flung open the front door and hauled ass down the stairs. Back on the street, he realized what a lucky break he’d just had. Unfortunately, he had lost the coke during the fight, so he headed for the liquor store and bought another fifth of rum.

  Debra opened the door, and her eyes widened in horror. “What happened to you?”

  Mel pushed her aside. “Guy tried to mug me,” he lied. He handed Debra the liquor bottle and headed for the bathroom to take a look at his eye, which was beginning to swell, and at his lip where his front teeth had cut it.

  CHAPTER EIG HT

  As the front door closed behind Mel, Adrienne leaned her tired body against it and breathed a sigh of relief. She couldn’t let him help with the unpacking, because two of the boxes held brand-new baby outfits that she didn’t want him to see until she got pregnant.

  Before the fire, Adrienne had hated shopping. The crowds, too few dressing rooms, rude salespeople—it all had discouraged her. But after losing all her belongings, she had started buying clothes to replace those she had lost. And it escalated. The items had to be better than those she had lost, and then the game went up another notch. Then she started charging clothes and other items that she didn’t have the cash for. Now, her credit card payments were overdue.

  Adrienne looked at her watch. Mel would probably walk to Thirty-fourth Street and take a cab back. Adrienne had unstacked a couple of cartons and rolled up her sleeves when the phone rang. Damn! She had an hour and a half at most.

  “Hey, girl.” It was Charlene.

  Adrienne was elated. The two women had not spoken in a week, since moving day. If Charlene was taking the time to call, that meant she wasn’t mad anymore. “What’s up?”

  “Not a whole lot. Dan is doing a wedding today, so I have the house to myself.”

  “So do I. Mel went to buy a TV set.”

  “How are things between you two?” Charlene asked cautiously.

  Adrienne sighed. “We got off to a bad start, but it will get better. We have some furniture now, so it’s a lot more comfortable, but sometimes it still feels like we’re strangers.”

  “Don’t worry,” Charlene said gently. “Just take things nice and slow.”

  “Yeah, I guess so.” Adrienne said. “Can you do my hair next Saturday?”

  “Sure. Is everything okay at work?”

  Adrienne suddenly remembered the strange scene with Lloyd Cooper. Charlene listened quietly until Adrienne finished the tale.

  “Now, that is some weird stuff,” Charlene laughed. “And you really
don’t remember him at all?”

  “No, but he did mention my new last name, so that means it has been at least four years since he saw me.”

  “True.” Charlene was silent for a moment. “I love a puzzle. Let’s think about this. He said that your calling him ‘sir’ was a switch. That means he wasn’t a high roller before.”

  “Well, he couldn’t have been a scrub, either,” Adrienne answered dryly. “Nobody can climb the corporate ladder that fast.”

  “Hmmm. What if you knew him, like, ten years ago?”

  Adrienne thought about that. “I was working a lot of temp jobs in between gigs. It’s possible that he worked at one of those companies.”

  Charlene laughed. “See? He was probably working in the mailroom.”

  Adrienne started laughing with relief. “The mystery is solved.”

  “Wait a minute. Didn’t you say he was from Chicago?”

  Adrienne’s heart sank. “Shit. You’re right. I’ve never been to Chicago. What I really can’t understand is how I could forget meeting any man who looks like that. The brother is fine with a capital F.” Adrienne could still remember the look he gave her after his presentation. She tried not to think about it as Charlene continued.

  “We need more clues,” Charlene said, sounding excited. “I hope he calls you soon.”

  “Whatever,” Adrienne said dismissively. She didn’t have any more time to talk about Cooper. “Charlene, I’ve got to unpack some boxes before Mel gets back. Can I call you later?”

  “Why didn’t he stay to help you?”

  Adrienne hesitated. “I passed a store a few weeks ago, and there were some real cute baby outfits in the window. I bought four of them and . . . well . . . Mel wouldn’t understand if he knew, so I sent him away.”

  “Aw, honey,” Charlene said gently.

  Adrienne could feel Charlene’s pity, and it made her uncomfortable. She wished she could tell Charlene how she really felt, but she didn’t want to talk about it. She didn’t need anybody feeling sorry for her, not even Charlene or Dan. She’d wallowed in self-pity long enough, and Adrienne was determined to move on. She promised to call soon, then got off the phone.

  She slit the tape on the first box and wished that she and Mel could have hot, steamy sex like they used to. She wished they were once again trusting and easy with each other. She had not slept with anyone else during their separation, even though a few men had tried to date her. She’d never even been tempted. Adrienne had been too preoccupied with her grief to care about dating.

  Had her celibacy been a mistake? Had she dried up and lost her womanhood? How long would Mel stay in a sexless marriage?

  Her mind churned with these and other disturbing thoughts as she continued to open the boxes.

  By 5:00 P.M., Adrienne had unpacked all the boxes and put everything away. Exhausted, she lay across the new bed and fell asleep, wondering why it was taking her husband so long to buy a television set. The ringing of the telephone woke her up.

  “Hi, Adrienne. How you doin’?”

  Adrienne sat up and rubbed the sleep out of her eyes. It was pitch-black outside. “Fine, Debra. And you?”

  “I just wanted you to know that Mel is here so you don’t get worried or nothin’.”

  “What time is it?” Adrienne asked, annoyed.

  “Goin’ on ten.”

  “Ten!” Adrienne shouted. “Put Mel on the phone, please.”

  “I can’t. He’s passed out drunk in the back room,” Debra said flatly.

  Adrienne took a deep breath to push back the anger that was starting to bubble inside her stomach. Why didn’t Debra tell her that in the first place? “What did he do with the TV?”

  “I dunno what you talkin’ about.”

  “Debra, he left the apartment at noon to go buy us a TV set.”

  “Well, he didn’t do it. Mel got here around twelve-thirty and he’s been here ever since.”

  “What?”

  “You heard me right.”

  “Don’t you and your damned friends do anything up there but drink?”

  Adrienne heard a hissing sound from her sister-in-law’s lips. “Lissen here, heffah. It’s none a yore business what goes on in my house. I didn’t drag Mel up here. In fact, I’d appreciate it if you come and get yore drunk-ass husband up outa here.”

  Adrienne jerked her chin up. “Fine. I will.”

  She slammed the phone down before Debra could reply.

  It took a long time for the bus to show up, and then it seemed to crawl up Amsterdam Avenue. Adrienne reached Debra’s house almost an hour after the phone call.

  Debra opened the door and glared at her without saying a word.

  “Good evening,” Adrienne said coolly. As crazy as she was, Adrienne knew Mel loved his sister, and she didn’t want to make things worse by standing there arguing with her.

  Debra stomped off into the kitchen as Adrienne went to the back bedroom. Mel was sprawled on his back, his eyes tightly closed. She shook his arm, but he didn’t move. Debra came in carrying a pitcher of water. Without missing a beat, she threw half of it in Mel’s face. He didn’t move. She threw more water. He sputtered and flailed about. Then she punched him in the chest. “Git yore ass up!”

  Mel opened his eyes. Debra hovered over him with Adrienne peering angrily over her shoulder. Mel groaned at the sight and closed his eyes again.

  “I know you awake now, Mel. Git up or the next water you feel will be boilin’ hot.”

  Mel managed to pull himself up on his elbows. He opened his eyes again. The light bore into his pupils. It burned. His head throbbed.

  “Your wife is here to pick you up.”

  Adrienne stepped forward and grabbed him by one arm. “What happened to your face?” she asked.

  Mel opened his mouth to explain, but his tongue was stuck to the roof of his mouth. “Thirsty,” he croaked.

  Debra thrust the pitcher at him. He snatched it from her hand and drank the rest of the water in huge gulps while his wife and sister gazed at him in pure disgust.

  “Get up, Mel. Let’s go home.”

  Mel slowly eased his body off the bed. It looked as if each movement was painful. He moved unsteadily once he was in a standing position.

  “I’ll walk y’all outside and help you get a cab,” Debra said to Adrienne.

  “How did Mel bust his lip?”

  “Didn’t happen in my house” Debra replied. “He went to the liquor store and it was busted when he got back. Said he got mugged.”

  Mel stumbled after the two women, apparently too drunk to realize how thoroughly pathetic he looked. The cold air helped, but he promptly passed out again as soon as he and Adrienne climbed into the backseat of the cab.

  He slept all the way home. When the cab stopped in front of their building, Adrienne paid the fare and shook her husband. “Mel, get up. We’re home.” He didn’t budge. She shook him some more.

  “Come on, lady. I ain’t got all night!” the driver yelled.

  Adrienne opened the door, hoping a cold blast of air would wake Mel up. It didn’t work. “He’s drunk, and I can’t get him up!” Adrienne called to the driver. “Can you help me?”

  “Hell, no! I could get sued if he falls or something. Jesus Christ! Why do I always get the fucking wackos?”

  Adrienne bit her lip. Mel was too heavy for her to lift. “Is there a problem here?” It was a man’s voice.

  Adrienne watched as the man’s legs moved to the driver’s window and he repeated the question.

  “What is this? A setup? You two know each other?” The driver’s voice was shaking with fright.

  Adrienne squinted into the darkness, trying to see the man’s face.

  “Calm down. I’m a cop.”

  Adrienne leaned out the door. It was Ed Winsome. He smiled when he saw her and moved quickly to the back door. He peeked inside. His skin was a light golden color. His features were too rugged for him to be handsome, but there was kindness in his face and his voice was
gentle. “Is your husband sick?” he asked politely.

  The car was reeking with liquor, and Ed Winsome had to have smelled it. She nodded, grateful to him for his discretion.

  “Get out,” he said quietly.

  Adrienne climbed out and watched as he pulled Mel’s legs out the door. He reached in again and, with a grunt, pulled Mel’s shoulders forward. With a few swift motions, he had Mel out of the car and was half carrying, half dragging him to the building. Adrienne slammed the door. She was about to apologize to the cabbie, but he roared away. Sick with embarrassment, Adrienne kept her head down and led the way. Once they were in the apartment, Ed managed to catch her eye. “Where should I put him?” he asked.

  Adrienne mumbled, “The bedroom,” and then stood waiting by the front door. She heard a thump and wondered if Ed had thrown Mel onto the bed rather than placing him there gently. Ed came back.

  “Thank you.”

  Ed kept his gaze averted. “It was nothing.” He waved a good-bye and left.

  CHAPTER NINE

  When Mel woke up the next morning, Adrienne was dressed for work. She was wearing a red two-piece suit and stepping into a pair of black heels. There was a chunky black piece of jewelry around her neck. She looked good. He sniffed the air. Her perfume smelled good, too. Her back was facing him as she leaned on the dresser to check her makeup. Their eyes met in the mirror.

  She whirled around to face him. “So, you mind telling me what yesterday was all about? Your eye is as big as a basketball, your left jaw is puffed up, and we don’t have a TV set.”

  Mel’s head felt like it was stuffed with cotton; his stomach was burning and hollow. “I got mugged,” he mumbled. He couldn’t believe it when Adrienne moved briskly to his side of the bed and leaned over. Her face was inches from his. “I don’t believe you. Anyway, what were you doing at Debra’s house in the first place when you were supposed to be out shopping?”

  Had the girl lost her mind, getting all up in his face like that? No matter what he had done, he was still the goddamn man. “Back up, Adrienne,” he said tightly. She moved backward a little, but there was still fire in her eyes. Mel couldn’t blame her for that, but he couldn’t tell Adrienne how he really got hurt. What would he say? I was just trying to buy a little cocaine and got beat down in the process? Instead, he tried to remember the ride home. He couldn’t get past the two women shoving his limp body into the cab. How had Adrienne managed to get him upstairs and into bed? “We don’t have time to talk about all that. You’ll be late for work. The TV set will be here when you get home.”