by H.H. Fowler
****
Seven thirty the next morning, Michelle was up and about and fixing something to eat for her three men. Normally, she skipped breakfast and settled for a light snack at brunch. But this morning was a different order of business. Spending time with Leroy had put her in a happier mood. She hadn’t felt such a burst of joy in a while – not knowing how long it would last, she relished the moment.
She spun in the kitchen like a top, setting the table, pouring the orange juice and then running back to the stove to flip the omelet. She parted the blinds and looked through the window. Sean and Eric were sweating it out in a tense game of basketball. It had become their morning ritual – their way of showing Leroy and Michelle they were surviving just fine. But Michelle knew better. She’d seen how the fighting between her and Leroy affected them. They were petrified but had done a decent job covering it up. She made up her mind to talk to them as soon as she could pull them aside.
“What is all this?” Leroy came up behind Michelle and gently tugged on her earlobe with his lips. The scent of the eggs practically dragged his nose into the kitchen. He straightened a burgundy tie against a baby blue and white pinstripe shirt.
Michelle smiled, wiping her hands on her apron. “I thought I would catch you boys before you all dash out of here. Come. Sit.”
Leroy pulled his chair in front of a charming plate, graciously arrayed with his favorites. A healthy helping of deviled eggs mixed with shredded grilled turkey, two Pillsbury rolls, and a slice of avocado. “If you gonna start this up again; I may need to readjust my time.”
“Don’t tease me, Leroy.” She gave him a raised brow. “I might just hold you to your word.”
Leroy kept his eyes on her, noticing how lively she looked all of a sudden. “Thanks for last night,” he told her.
“I don’t know what I was thinking,” she smiled. “Giving in to you like that.”
“You couldn’t help yourself even if you tried.”
“Oh really? You think I can’t resist you?”
“I convinced you to marry me, didn’t I?”
She draped herself over his shoulders. “Only because I felt sorry for you, my dear.”
Leroy laughed. “I see the years have tarnished your memories a bit.”
“I’m as fresh now as I was then. Plus, you had daddy to deal with.”
“Oh yeah. How could I forget? He chased me off his porch with a broomstick.”
Michelle chuckled, recalling the scene. “Because you Paxton men are dangerous men. He always said that. He hammered his words into my head every day. Don’t trust that boy; he’ll lead you to the devil’s camp…”
Leroy’s smile gradually faded as he thought about those words. “Have I?”
“Have you what?”
“Have I done what your father said?”
Michelle eased up from Leroy’s shoulders, not certain how she should respond. If he’d asked her that question two nights ago her words would have been jarring, and to the point. She might have even asked for a divorce – well, maybe not a divorce, but a separation. It was part of her action plan if he hadn’t agreed to her ultimatum, which demanded that he kick Shaniece out of their lives. As she stood over her husband’s shoulder with scenes of last night’s romance replaying in her head, most of the things she’d resolved in her heart to do, suddenly dissipated. Now she was being forced to make up her mind on the spot.
Leroy rested his fork on his plate and turned his head in her direction. “Michelle? What’s the problem?”
“I can’t do this, Leroy.”
“Do what?”
“This. I can’t pretend. I can’t–”
“Wait,” Leroy said. He stood up and embraced her. “What we did last night was not meant to confuse you. I don’t expect you to pretend that we’re back on track. I’m just tired of the fighting and all the noise that’s driving us farther and farther apart. I’m not delusional. Our problems will not be taken care of overnight, but I promise you that I will put more effort into fixing it.”
“Leroy, you know what I want. Why can’t you simply get rid of that woman?”
The back door swung open with a crash, clearing the way for Sean as Eric chased him with a swinging, wet towel. They dashed around and around the table, prompting Leroy to draw Michelle into his bosom.
“Boy, give that ball here!” Eric demanded. “You’re nothing but a loser!”
“You want it? Come get it.”
“You better don’t let me catch you…”
“Sean, give the ball to me,” Leroy said. “I swear, the more you boys play this game the more immature you become.”
“Would you believe I just told this fool that?” Eric said, panting, sweat droplets plummeting from his shaved head. “This is a man’s game; if this moron can’t handle–”
“Baby, don’t call your brother a moron,” Michelle said.
“Well, he is and that is a proven fact.”
Eric attempted to plant his sweaty frame at the table but Michelle stopped him dead in his tracks. “No sir, bathroom! Go and wash up, both of you.”
“Too much time,” Sean said. “I only want a piece of toast. We have to get out of here.”
“For what?” Leroy popped two Mega men tablets in his mouth. “It’s Wednesday. Your classes don’t start til’ eleven.”
“Come on, dad,” Eric said. “We told you about this last week.”
“The boys are right, Leroy,” Michelle said. “They have a football game at the Raymond James Stadium this morning.”
“Who are you playing against?” Leroy asked.
“Are you coming?”
“I would have, Sean, if you boys would have reminded me. I have a business meeting starting in less than half an hour.”
“As usual, don’t worry about it.”
“Don’t wave me off,” Leroy said. “I said I–”
“Dad, don’t worry it,” Eric said, pushing Sean ahead of him. “Let’s go, boy and put a hurting on those girls over there…”
Michelle frowned. “Girls?”
“Relax, mom. It’s not what you’re thinking.”
“You should talk to them,” Leroy said the minute the boys disappeared through the foyer.
“Me?”
“Yes. They won’t listen to me.”
“Have you tried, Leroy? I mean, really?”
“Of course. They won’t open up. I remember when they were comfortable telling me anything.” He reached for the portfolio he’d left unlocked. Neither he nor Michelle noticed the pieces of paper that fell to the floor. “I can’t recall when that change occurred.”
“They are no longer the little boys who used to sleep on your chest, Leroy. They need a father to teach them how to be a man. You’re never around…”
“Please, don’t get on me about that. I have enough to think about as it is.”
“Can’t you call in, or go in later? You don’t have to sit in every meeting.”
“I know, hon, I know.” Leroy sighed, as he gently pressed his forehead against Michelle’s. “Give me a little time and I promise you I’ll fix all of this.”
“I’m so tired, Leroy. I don’t know if I can–”
The phone rang and swallowed Michelle’s words. That was Leroy’s cue to escape while he had the chance. “We’ll talk about this tonight when I return,” he said.
“Hello?” Michelle spoke into the receiver, watching her husband run through the door.
“Mother? How are you?”
“Tayah! It is so good to hear your voice, darling.” Michelle clutched the phone tighter. “I haven’t spoken to you in two weeks almost.”
“And it’s so bad that you’re keeping count,” Tayah laughed.
“You know me; I’m a worry freak, especially when it comes to my children. What’s been keeping you from church?”
“Mother, things are so crazy right now. This is a week of celebration for the Tampa Bay Black Heritage Festival. I’m one of the event coordinators. So, sist
er girl has got her work cut out for her.”
“How do you keep up with your job and all?”
“Only by the grace of God and several cups of coffee.”
“Now, hearing this concerns me,” Michelle said. “Abraham called and said he wouldn’t be able to make it tonight. That means you have to take charge of the forum.”
“It’s nothing, mother. I love what I do. Besides, Dominic’s gonna be there to help me.”
“I am still concerned.”
“Of course, you would be,” Tayah chuckled. “I’m not easily tamed.”
“Which you got directly from your father,” Michelle quipped.
“Ouch! Do I detect a pinch of jealousy in your voice?”
“Tayah, have you called your mother to torture her?”
“Torture?” Tayah scrunched up her face. “Correct me if I’m wrong, but doesn’t that word mean to inflict excruciating pain, to punish, to twist, or to pervert. A shocking example of true torture would be–”
“Okay, Tayah, I admit. You are certainly your father’s child.”
“Thank you, mother. That was very brave of you.”
Michelle grinned. “You crazy child.”
“I can tell you miss me around there.”
“Please, don’t rub it in…”
“Let’s fix that,” Tayah said. “I want you and daddy to be my special guests on Saturday night.”
“Does it have to do with this festival you’re involved in?”
“You sound kind of sad,” Tayah said. “It’s a volunteer banquet. We’ve been helping a lot people around the community and the board wants to take time to recognize its volunteers. Please tell me you’ll come.”
“I’ll think about it, darling,” Michelle said. “I don’t have anything else to do.”
Tayah squealed her excitement into the phone. “Thank you, mother! I love you…”
As Michelle replaced the receiver on the hook, she was suddenly hit with a grim realization, and no amount of wishful thinking about yester years, or praying that the hands of time would somehow reverse themselves, would stop her worst nightmare from making an appearance. Soon, her home would be empty of the voices of all her children and the walls would stand in silence, serving as a constant reminder of the happiness she’d once shared with them. It would just be her and Leroy, growing older with no one to scream at except each other. And she couldn’t imagine doing that for the rest of her life. Fifty was slapping her hard in the face, pressuring her to assess the quality of her life. And what did she have to show for it? She was just a miserable, jobless wife of a pastor who’d promoted another woman over her.
En route to her dishwasher, her eyes caught several documents near Leroy’s chair, where he’d sat in earlier. She bent and picked them up, and went to toss them in the garbage disposal, thinking they were old utility bills, but as she shifted through them, she realized she’d better call Leroy. A check for twenty-five thousand dollars, made out to Hillsborough Children Charity Fund, was something important.
However, when she called his office, Brenda informed Michelle that Leroy had just gone into a meeting and that she would have him call home as soon as he was available. Michelle stuffed the documents into one of the cubbyholes of their cabinets, thinking to herself, if Leroy really needed them, he would arrange to get them. Her hasty handling of the documents caused a folded sheet of paper to separate from the pile and fall to the floor with a slap.
She yanked it up and inspected it, noting that it was a simple receipt. She would have stuffed it back into the cubbyhole along with the other documents if it weren’t for three words that jumped out at her – “Holiday Inn Express”.
“Brandon, Florida?” She frowned, speaking in a whisper. “Why would Leroy have a Holiday Inn receipt in his things? I don’t remember us having to attend any recent events in Brandon, or having to spend a night…”
Again, Michelle would have simply dismissed it as another one of Leroy’s spontaneous business trips, which he took from time to time without her. However, when she noticed the date of the receipt, a cold wave swept from her head to her feet. It was not just any date. It was a date she would never forget for as long as she lived – July 30, 2007 – almost five years ago, the night she thought that she had lost her husband. Her flight from Chicago had just landed when she received the message from Abraham that Leroy had been brutally attacked, shot, and taken to a hospital in Brandon.
“July 30, 2007,” Michelle repeated quietly. She looked at the time on the receipt – 11:33 a.m. She had received Abraham’s message approximately fifteen minutes after nine that night.
Back then, the only thing she remembered thinking as she raced down the halls of that hospital was wondering why Leroy had been in Brandon? He had explained this by telling her he had been attending another one of those business meetings. Maybe she was reading too much into this; maybe the dates were just a coincidence; maybe she just wanted tangible evidence to prove she’d been right all along – that Leroy had in fact cheated on her.
“ These are just your crazy thoughts, girl. Calm down and relax. You should trust your man…”
But she couldn’t relax; and she couldn’t take Leroy’s words as gospel, which was a downright disgrace, because he was supposed to be a minister of the Gospel, sharing God’s truth without contamination. If he’d lied to Brenda and to their kids, telling them she’d flown to New York, when he fact he knew she’d spent the night at her mother’s house, what were the chances he would ever tell her the truth about an affair?
Resting her buttocks against the counter, she questioned her naivety and her willingness to believe Leroy was still the same dashing prince she’d married almost twenty-six years ago. She couldn’t shake the feeling that’d been growing in the pit of her stomach for months, in fact, years and it was time she did something about it.
Chapter Eighteen
