by H.H. Fowler
Tayah tried to lose herself in her work so that she didn’t have to face her troubling thoughts. Her presentation was due later that afternoon and she was not feeling up to it. The only thing she wanted to do was hide from her problems, and crawl into a corner and feel sorry for herself. But she was not the type of person who pitied their circumstance. Her analytical brain wouldn’t allow her to settle for obscurity and confusion.
She was the type who painstakingly examined every decision of her life, processing each step in hopes of producing a mental summation of why things were not working out as planned. Her approach generally worked, and she couldn’t remember having any major setbacks, but within the last three years of her marriage she’d been forced to eat her words – hook, line, and sinker. Now, everything around her seemed obscured and confused.
Dominic’s words kept hammering at her brain, which now felt more of a torment than a feeling of comfort, “…it peeves the heck out of me over the way he’s treating you. You don’t deserve this. He must be out of his mind. Any man would kill to have a woman like you…”
Any man would kill to have a woman like me, she repeated in her mind. What was Dominic implying? That she’d made the wrong decision in marrying Phillip? That he (Dominic) would have been the better choice? What made Dominic think his judgment was accurate? If he’d been so serious about his love for her, why hadn’t he asked her to marry him when he’d had the opportunity? Now all of a sudden he was ‘peeved’ over the way her husband appeared to be treating her. That alone told her Dominic was not ready to handle her. He couldn’t make up his mind, which she couldn’t deal with in a man. She couldn’t tell if she was angry at herself or angry at Dominic for not telling her how strongly he felt before Phillip’s proposal.
“Excuse me, Tayah Benjamin?”
Tayah snapped her head up from her laptop, setting her eyes on a man holding a huge arrangement of white lilies. “Aren’t those supposed to go to the hospital?” she asked, bringing to mind the festival’s keynote speaker who was in critical condition at Tampa General. But then she thought, she’d ordered roses, not lilies.
“It says delivery for Tayah Benjamin. Where do you want me to put them?”
“I’m sorry,” she said, indicating a spot on her desk. “You can put them here.”
“Okie dokie put your Jane Henry on this line and I’ll be on my way…”
Jane Henry? Tayah thought. Wasn’t it John Henry? Was he trying to be funny? She scribbled her name, giving in to her curiosity. Who would send me flowers at two o’clock in the afternoon? And not just any flowers, but the expensive kind, the kind that only needed one word to describe them. Exquisite…
“Thank you,” she whispered, as the deliveryman backed out of her office.
She took the card from its plastic holder, supposing the flowers must be from her husband. His way of saying he was sorry. They'd had another hurtful exchange last night after he'd crawled into the bed next to her, giving her some lame excuse about why he'd forgotten to pick her up at the church.
They'd gone to bed angry, and they'd gotten up this morning, refusing to speak to each other – something her grandmother would certainly look down upon. Husband and wife should never go to bed upset with each other, she would say. One never knew where death was, which served as a warning to those who refused to make peace before it was too late.
Last night was an exception, Tayah thought, as she bent to smell the lilies, thinking the least Philip could have done was to stop by on his lunch break and apologize in person.
The card read: “Just Because…”
She then read whom it was from: “The one you can share anything with, Dominic.”
“Dominic?” It took a second for Tayah to realize that the lilies were not from her husband. That bastard. She was slapped with two different feelings at once – she was disappointed because she felt neglected by the man that she’d pledged her life to, who obviously was oblivious to her needs as his wife. But, she also felt confused because she didn’t know what to make of Dominic’s intention. Was it simply a friendly gesture or was Dominic being an opportunist? He knew she was vulnerable at this point in her life and to send her flowers only added to the mayhem of her mind.
Her BlackBerry vibrated on her desk, letting her know she’d just received a message of some sort. She accidentally clicked on an old message from Ian Laing, which read:
Hi Tayah, just letting you know the MLK Leadership Breakfast has been rescheduled to this Saturday – seven o’clock sharp at Embassy Suites on Fowler. We found a replacement for our keynote speaker who, unfortunately, still is in critical condition. Please get out the communication on this. Cheers!
Thank God that she’d clicked on that message, because she had totally forgotten about it. That meant she had to prepare for two events this coming Saturday, which was okay, because one was in the morning and the other was in the evening. The next message was from Dominic.
Hey girl, I hope you’re smiling right now. I know lilies are your favorite. Let’s meet for lunch somewhere.
Smiling? Why would he think I’d be smiling? she thought, as she pondered over how she would reply to Dominic’s text. After she’d spilt her guts to him last night, humiliating herself in the process, she didn’t want to face him any time soon.
The lilies are nice. Thanks, but you shouldn’t have gone overboard like that. Phillip will have a fit if I take them home. Sorry, but we can’t do lunch today. My presentation is due in an hour. I’ll try to call you later.
She read it a few times before she hit the send button, hoping he didn’t read between the lines.
I’m cool with that. Give me a call when you have some free time. Just thought you should know, though, I don’t have an agenda; just want to see you happy.
He had read between the lines, she thought.
Thanks for understanding. But I really will call you when I’m done with my presentation.
Don’t sweat it; I believe you.
