A Mighty Love

by Anita Doreen Diggs

  “Mel, could you bring a pound of jumbo shrimp when you come? The fish market down here was out of them.”

  “Sure.”

  “Are you all right?”

  “Un-huh.”

  “You sound funny.”

  “Un-huh. Shrimp. Sure.” He hung up.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

  “I would never have recognized you on the street,” Lloyd shouted as he clasped Dan in a bear hug. “My, how you’ve grown.” He and Dan stood in the doorway grinning at each other as Adrienne and Charlene hovered nearby. Dan motioned for Charlene to come forward.

  “This is my wife, Charlene,” he said.

  Lloyd gallantly kissed Charlene’s hand. “What a beautiful woman. It’s a pleasure to meet you. Thank you for inviting me to dinner.”

  Charlene looked back at Adrienne for a second. “Wow! I like him already.”

  Adrienne and Lloyd exchanged hugs, and then he looked around expectantly. “Where’s your husband?”

  “Mel had to do a favor for his sister,” Adrienne explained. “He’ll be here any moment.”

  Charlene took Lloyd’s coat and waved everyone into the living room. “Go on, sit down and talk.”

  Dan was gazing at Lloyd with unabashed curiosity. “So, I hear life has been pretty good to you, man.”

  Lloyd sat down. “Yes. I’ve succeeded beyond my wildest dreams, Dan. I only wish your mom and dad could join us tonight.”

  A shadow passed across Dan’s face. “We can call them later if you like.”

  Lloyd rubbed his hands together in anticipation. “Yes, I would love to tell them my story.”

  Although Adrienne was proud of Lloyd, she felt a bit uncomfortable about the proposed call to her parents. This dinner was supposed to be a relaxing occasion with an old family friend. She also wanted Mel to see that Lloyd was not a threat to their marriage. If Lloyd made such a call to Mom and Dad, it might sound as if he were bragging and everyone would be uncomfortable.

  Charlene pulled Adrienne’s arm. “We’re going to leave you guys alone for a few minutes.”

  The two women went into the kitchen. “Why don’t you make the salad while I rustle up the pasta?” Charlene suggested.

  Adrienne nodded and opened the refrigerator. She took out lettuce, tomatoes, cucumbers, green pepper, and carrots and set them all on the counter. “I need bread crumbs and salad dressing.”

  Charlene was filling a huge pot with water. She gestured with her chin. “Look on the top shelf of the third cabinet. I hope Mel gets here with the shrimp soon. It won’t take long to make this spaghetti.”

  Adrienne started cutting up ingredients. “He should be here in the next ten minutes.”

  Charlene looked toward the living room. “It’s always nice when I can connect with a part of Dan’s past.”

  “Get the fellas something to drink. That’ll keep ’em busy till Mel gets here.”

  “Good idea.” Charlene put the pot on the stove, dropped some olive oil in the water, turned the flame up high, and left.

  Adrienne could hear snatches of conversation coming from the living room. “I’ll take a vodka and cranberry juice if you have it. . . just bring me a beer, honey . . . ” There was a lot of murmuring after that.

  Charlene was grinning when she came back. “I asked Lloyd to tell me what Dan was like when he was a little boy.”

  “What did he say?”

  “Smart but a little bit of a mama’s boy.”

  “That’s true.”

  “Maybe so, but I don’t think Dan liked his answer.”

  “What do you think of Lloyd?”

  Charlene loaded cubes of ice into a bucket and started searching for the tongs. “Don’t get mad, Adrienne, but I think you need to forget the LaMar you once knew. That boy is long gone.”

  Adrienne felt confused. “What are you talking about?”

  “I’m saying that Lloyd Cooper seems like a man who doesn’t really trust anyone. He also plays his cards really close to the vest. You’ll never really get to know him again, Adrienne.”

  “You’re wrong, Charlene. He just seems very alone to me.”

  “I’m sure he is, and I’ll bet he likes it that way,” Charlene replied sarcastically. “Why do you think he is here tonight?”

  “To see Dan?”

  “And?”

  “I don’t know, Miss Social Worker, why don’t you just tell me?”

  “To show the Montgomery family what he has become. He will insist on calling your parents, even if Dan doesn’t bring it up again.”

  “I’m sorry you don’t like him.”

  Charlene shrugged. “Don’t be silly. I’m not the important person here. I’ll be nice to him because he has made you start smiling again. I also admire him. I hope that at least one of the kids I deal with every day finds his way out of the ’hood. I just want you to take off the rose-colored glasses and deal with the man he has become. Not the Oliver Twist he used to be.”

  Adrienne mixed the salad. Charlene’s words made sense. There was a lot she still didn’t know about Lloyd. She would think about all that later. In the meantime, where was Mel?

  Dan suddenly appeared in the doorway. “Hey, we’re dying of thirst out here.” He smiled.

  Charlene handed him the ice bucket, tongs, and a bottle of vodka. “I’m right behind you with the juice and beer.”

  “Dan, what do you think?” Adrienne whispered.

  “He’s a little conservative but okay.”

  The two went back out into the living room. Adrienne laughed to herself, wondering why she had even bothered to ask Dan’s opinion. Her brother could find a soft, cuddly side to a serial killer.

  The salad was ready. The spaghetti was cooked. The three of them sat drinking and chitchatting while waiting for Mel to arrive with the shrimp.

  Dinner was supposed to be at seven. Shrimp scampi, pasta, and salad followed by Charlene’s homemade brownies for dessert.

  By eight, an uncomfortable silence had settled on the group. “I don’t know what happened to Mel,” Adrienne said finally, “but I’m hungry.”

  Charlene muttered an assent, and the two women hustled into the kitchen. As Charlene warmed up the food, Adrienne snatched plates, glasses, and silverware from the cabinets and drawers.

  “I should have known Mel would pull a stunt like this. He didn’t want to come in the first place.”

  “Maybe something happened to him.”

  “Unless he’s dead, there is a phone nearby,” Adrienne said as she slammed a glass down on the countertop. “He could have called. God only knows what Lloyd is thinking. This is so humiliating.”

  Adrienne glanced into the living room. Dan and Lloyd were engaged in an earnest conversation, but she couldn’t make out what they were saying over the music.

  Charlene and Adrienne carried bowls of salad and plates of spaghetti into the dining room, and everyone took a seat at the table.

  Adrienne felt uncomfortable because the conversation was strained and everyone was so determined not to mention Mel’s absence.

  When dinner was over, Dan said, “Let’s eat the brownies.” His voice was tight.

  Just then, the downstairs doorbell rang. Adrienne flew to the intercom and pressed the Talk button. “It’s Mel,” said the male voice.

  Adrienne avoided Dan’s and Charlene’s gazes as she stepped out into the hallway. She heard the elevator door open, and then Mel came swerving around the corner. He held on to a wall all the way down to the apartment, grinning steadily at his wife. By the time he reached her, she could smell the gray, stained sweat suit that he had on. She wrinkled her nose in distaste and stood in front of the closed door with her arms folded.

  “Let’s go home, Mel. You’re drunk.”

  “Girl, what you talkin’ ’bout?” With that remark, Mel pushed her aside and stumbled into the apartment. Adrienne followed him and saw Dan and Charlene leap to their feet.

  “Adrienne,” he yelled while turning to face her. “Baby, I
got the fish.”

  He held up a smelly, wet bag for her to see. He stumbled backward and then propelled himself forward again. Somehow, he made it to the sofa. He put the smelly bag on his lap and squinted at each of them.

  Lloyd hastily wiped his mouth with a napkin and pushed his plate away. “I think I’ll be going now. It was good seeing you, Dan. Nice to meet you, Charlene.” Lloyd’s hasty retreat was lost in the hubbub.

  “How come there’s five Dans?” Mel asked.

  “Because you’re drunk,” Adrienne screamed.

  She went to hit him, but Dan grabbed her. “Don’t do that. Let him lie down on the sofa and sleep it off.”

  Mel waved his arms about in the air and then fell onto his side. The shrimp fell out of the bag and slithered in several directions across Dan’s freshly shampooed carpet. Adrienne picked up the shrimp and took them to the kitchen.

  “Mel,” said Charlene, “you knew that Adrienne’s boss would be here tonight. How could you humiliate her like this?”

  Mel’s voice rumbled up from the sofa. “Damn this shit! Adrienne! Are you gonna let this woman talk about me like that? Can’t a man get some respect from his own wife?”

  He sat up with difficulty.

  Dan spoke to him quietly. “Mel, you’ve got to earn respect. Something is obviously bothering you, which is why you got drunk in the first place. Maybe you could share your real troubles with Adrienne and everything could turn out all right.”

  Mel turned his drunken, coke-filled gaze on Dan. “Oh, so you one of those new sensitive black men I been hearing about, huh? One of those brothers who cook, clean, and talk all day long about your fuckin’ feelings. Am I right? Huh?”

  Charlene jumped up. “Don’t start picking on Dan.”

  “I can handle him,” Dan replied.

  Mel stood and leaned forward so that he was nose to nose with Dan. “Well . . . handle me . . . go on . . . take your best shot.”

  Dan stepped forward to hit Mel but Charlene pushed him back. Charlene turned on Adrienne, who was watching the scene in frozen horror. “Mel cannot stay here tonight!” she shrieked. “And after this, if you don’t see that you two need professional help, I don’t know what else to say to you.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

  It was bad enough that Mel had embarrassed the hell out of her last night at Dan’s house. But then, before she could stop him, he had stumbled out of her brother’s house and stayed out for the rest of the night!

  The next day, when Adrienne left the house to go shopping, it was way past noon and she’d still had no word from Mel. Now she hoped fervently that her period would come on time. Something was terribly wrong with Mel, and it was time for her to face that. He’d stayed out all night, and she didn’t know where he’d been. He could have been laid up with some woman, for all I know, Adrienne thought, maybe that Lillian bitch, but the idea made her cringe. The last thing they needed was a baby. In fact, maybe it was time to start thinking about divorce.

  Waiting for the elevator in Macy’s department store, Adrienne massaged her hands, which were chilly from an unseasonably blustery wind outside. Last year, New York City had had its hottest spring in seventy-five years, according to the news reports. Obviously, Mother Nature was not going to be so kind this year. Nearly everyone on the street was still wearing a jacket. An elevator opened, and Adrienne waited patiently for the stream of passengers to get off. As she rode up to the women’s dresses department, her body shook with anger.

  Adrienne stalked the aisles like a demon. Ever since the fire, when all her belongings had vanished, shopping was the only activity that could quiet her nerves when she got upset.

  After looking at every single skirt in her size, she settled on a Scotch plaid mini. Then she saw a gray ankle-length knit with a slit up the left thigh, which came with a belt that had a big silver buckle. Next it was on to dresses. After trying on ten different dresses, she chose an uncomplicated black Norma Kamali. But you hardly ever wear black, a little voice whispered in her ear. She shrugged the voice away and draped the garment over her arm. She fell in love with a silk blue-and-burgundy dress and didn’t even blink at the price, which was $385. She paid for the purchases and went on to another floor.

  Her rage lurked right beneath the pretty smile and courteous words that she gave the salespeople who helped her. Adrienne knew that they would have been astounded to know how desperately sad and angry she felt inside.

  She chose a black tank top with mesh insets and a bikini bottom: $74. Then a young salesclerk dangled a silk twill scarf in gold in front of her eyes. She simply had to have it: $195. For a fleeting second, she thought about stabbing Mel as soon as he walked through the door and making her getaway before the cops could catch her. For that, she grabbed a classic leather backpack in brown: $95.

  At this point her arms were aching, but today her shopping fetish had reached its peak. A sales clerk offered to hold all of the items behind the cash register. Adrienne flashed her a smile and was off and running once more. A French purse in black, shiny calfskin with a multicolored interior was next: $170. Then a faux pearl collar with pendant and a whopping price tag attached to it: $1,050.

  Adrienne thought of how angry Mel would be if he knew that she was spending so much money. The mere thought of it made her feet do a light skip of glee, and her hands latched on to a V-neck poorboy ribbed cotton sweater for $68. It came in navy, natural, gray, white, burgundy, and brown. Adrienne couldn’t decide which color was best, so she snatched up one of each.

  She thanked the salesclerk at the register who had held the other items and now started ringing everything up.

  “Will that be cash or credit card?” she asked.

  “MasterCard,” Adrienne replied confidently.

  The cosmetics counter fell under attack: foundation, lipstick, blush, eyeliner, eye shadow, perfume, lotion, face cream, lip gloss, mascara. The total was $600.

  The jewelry section was a virtual wonderland. Adrienne indulged in a pair of sterling silver hoops for $65 and a tennis bracelet that cost $500.

  “Visa.” Adrienne answered the clerk’s question quite smoothly.

  Adrienne strolled casually around the rows of electronics on yet another floor. In front of a cellular phone display, a salesman waved to get her attention. Adrienne shifted the heavy shopping bags to a more comfortable position and stepped up to see what the handsome white man had to offer. His hair was a dirty blond, and he had bright blue eyes that twinkled as he made his sales pitch.

  “No one can afford to be without a cellular,” he finished. “I tell you what, if you buy one cellular phone, I’ll throw in a carrying case for free. The case comes in black or brown leather. Which one do you want?”

  Adrienne’s anger was beginning to subside. “Give me the brown,” she said dispiritedly.

  With her last ounce of energy, she stopped at another counter and spent $60 on a digital AM/FM cassette player. According to that salesclerk, a young Asian guy barely out of his teens, it had auto-reverse and an extra bass system.

  This time her MasterCard was denied, so she put the purchase on her Discover card.

  Adrienne balanced the heavy packages and tried to hail a cab, but to no avail. Thirty-fourth Street was crowded as usual with mobs of rude New Yorkers forging ahead like a Roman legion. They bumped into, stepped on, and cursed Adrienne as she struggled through the herd to get to the next corner, powerless to defend herself. Adrienne spotted an empty cab six cars behind the others, and a glimmer of hope made her heart pump in anticipation. She couldn’t wait to get off her feet and out of the zoo on Seventh Avenue.

  As she struggled to get closer to the cab so the driver could see her, a group of Japanese tourists began snapping photos of Macy’s. Annoyed, she pushed through them, and to her dismay, she saw a tall blonde with a cell phone in hand jump into the cab she desperately wanted. Adrienne’s heart sank as she looked into the cab, knowing she would have to walk several blocks to try to get another one. She regr
ouped the packages and lunged forward like a linebacker through the hordes of people, her aching feet and problems accompanying her for six blocks until a taxi finally stopped for her.

  When the cab pulled up in front of her apartment building, Adrienne hauled all her bags out and then checked the backseat carefully to make certain that nothing had been left behind. Her rage was spent, and she felt positively exhausted.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

  Mel felt as if he were lying on the slimy bottom of the East River instead of driving a bus packed to capacity with chattering passengers across 125th Street. It was raining, and his skin felt cold. He had seen the tiny Apollo Theater a hundred times, yet today it looked even older and more decrepit than usual. He was in a terrible mood. He had apologized to Adrienne over and over, but she had not said a word to him since that awful night at Dan’s house. It was clear that she was fed up.

  Mel grimaced at a woman who was struggling up the steps with a baby in one hand and a folded stroller in the other. He lifted the steel bar that separated him from the public, and got up to give her a hand. He took the stroller and started pushing his way through the crowd of startled passengers. “Hey!” he yelled. “I need one of you righteous brothers to stand up and let this sister and her baby have a seat!”

  A teenage boy stood up, and Mel gave him a brother-to-brother palm slap and helped the woman settle in. She thanked him warmly, and Mel went back to the driver’s seat wishing that women with children would just stay at home.

  For the past four weeks, Mel had tried to be the perfect husband. He cleaned the house, washed the dishes, did the laundry, and kept the refrigerator’s interior shiny and filled with food.

  Adrienne ignored everything he did, and he couldn’t blame her.