More to Life

by ReShonda Tate Billingsley

  I’d managed to deal with the deafening silence by staying in the guest room—I’d told Anika that her dad had been snoring badly lately—and just keeping my distance from my husband.

  But this—this was brutal. Being this close to him for these hours was difficult. I knew this trip would be hard, but I hadn’t envisioned it like this.

  My eyes were still on Charles, but he only glanced at me for a moment before he returned his eyes to the road. I sighed as I just turned to stare out the window. There was nothing else left to do, but wait this trip out.

  I wanted to raise my hands and shout “hallelujah” when we rolled through the gates of Spelman’s campus. We’d hardly moved a block when Anika said, “Wait, Daddy! Stop!”

  Charles hit the brakes and both of us turned to Anika, startled. “What’s wrong?” I asked.

  She opened her door. “There’s Kelli and Rachel and Andrea,” she said as she bounced out of the car.

  Our eyes followed her as she ran to Kelli, the art major who had come to our house to visit, and two other girls I didn’t know. They squealed as if they hadn’t seen each other in years. Then the girls ran over to us and leaned into the car, hugging both of us.

  “Jump in,” Anika said, and the four of them piled into the back. “Y’all can help me carry up all this stuff.”

  “You weren’t here to help us,” Rachel said, and for some reason that sent them into a fit of giggles.

  “Have you done any more paintings, Mrs. Clayton?” Kelli asked, before turning to her friends. “You guys should see some of her work. It’s, like, totally amazing.”

  That made me smile. “As a matter of fact, I have—”

  “Oh my God, is that Danny, Mr. Morehouse?” Anika said, tapping on the window and cutting me off. She was pointing to some young man, standing and talking to a group of women. “He cut his dreads!”

  And just like that, all interest in my art was gone as the girls started talking about Danny and his dreads.

  I was actually glad to have the girls in the back seat, their chatter filling the car with delight. And once we pulled up to Anika’s dorm, their chatter continued as her friends helped us unload the car.

  With the girls’ help, it took less than thirty minutes to unload and then just a couple of hours to get her settled into her room.

  When she was all unpacked, Anika said, “Mom, I hope you guys don’t mind, but we’re getting together with a couple of our friends at the cafeteria. I know you guys wanted to go get something to eat, but I really—”

  “No, go right ahead,” Charles said. “Go and enjoy your friends. Your mom and I will head on to the hotel.”

  “Are you sure?” she said, looking at me. She cocked her head a little bit. “Are you okay, Mom? I just noticed, you’ve been awfully quiet.”

  I faked a smile. “Yes, sweetheart. I’m fine. How could I say anything with all of you Chatty Cathys around?”

  That sent Anika and her friends into more laughter.

  “Okay. Well, thank you all for everything,” Anika said before turning to Charles. “Daddy, did you put some money in my account?”

  That put a genuine smile on his face. “Of course I did. You know I’m not going to let my baby come up here with no money.”

  “Yes!” she said, throwing her arms around his neck. “Okay, let me walk you back to the car.”

  I had to trot to keep up with her. Anika was back in college mode and she didn’t have much time or room for her parents. Outside of the dorm, she quickly hugged me, then Charles.

  “Okay, bye. I’ll call you guys later. Maybe we can have breakfast tomorrow?”

  “We have the parents’ meeting, remember?” I said. Both Charles and I had done more than send our daughter off to college, we’d been active members of the Spelman Parents Association.

  “Oh yeah, that’s right,” Anika said.

  “So we’ll do lunch or maybe dinner. We’ll be here for a couple of days anyway,” I said.

  “Okay. See you!”

  “Be careful,” I called out to her as she ran to catch up with her friends. “Love you.”

  She turned around and blew kisses before she rounded the corner out of our sight.

  Charles and I stood in an awkward silence before he said, “Are you ready?”

  I nodded and then moved to the SUV that we’d rented. Charles unlocked it with the remote and I opened the passenger door, something I hadn’t done in the years of our being together, but something I’d done on this trip.

  “Did you still want to get something to eat?” I said once we were in the truck.

  Charles took a deep breath, turned over the ignition, then looked over at me. “I’m not good at faking the funk, Aja. You want out of our marriage, yet you still want to pretend that we’re this big happy family.”

  “I’m not trying to pretend anything, Charles. We have to eat.” I released a heavy sigh. “I just want to do what’s best for our children.” I paused. “Can I ask you a question?” He didn’t respond, but I continued anyway. “Do you think we’ll ever be able to be amicable? Be friends?”

  He released a convoluted laugh. “I don’t want a damn friend. I got plenty of those. I had one wife,” he snapped.

  I wanted to remind him that really he didn’t have a lot of friends and that might have been part of our problem. Instead, I just said, “For the sake of our kids, I want us to get along.”

  He shook his head and turned his attention back to the freeway. “When do you plan on telling them? I think we should just do it now. I don’t want to pretend until spring break,” he said, his voice rife with enough ice to fill the Antarctic.

  It was interesting that he now wanted to tell the children. I didn’t have the feeling that he wanted to do that before. Maybe he needed everyone to know in order for it to feel real to him.

  “I don’t know when we should tell them. Like I mentioned before, I was thinking I didn’t want to mess up the holidays. But I wanted to talk with you about that. I just want the kids to get settled into this semester.”

  “Why wait?” he asked. “I think you should’ve told Anika now. Let her know that you’re trashing our family right before she went bouncing off with her friends. Let her know that all of a sudden, after twenty freaking years, we’re no longer good enough for you.”

  I knew this was Charles’s anger speaking. I just didn’t know how to respond to it.

  “Whatever,” he continued. “When are you moving out?”

  “Again,” I swallowed, “I wanted to wait until Anika was gone.”

  “She’s gone.” He waited for me to say something, but I didn’t want to cry so I kept my mouth closed. He continued, “So you can get out as soon as we get back. I changed our tickets. We’re leaving tomorrow afternoon.”

  My heart hurt because I didn’t think I’d ever seen Charles like this. It felt mean. But what else did I expect? “Leaving tomorrow? We can’t. Anika thinks we’re staying for a couple of days.”

  “She’ll be fine,” he said without a bit of emotion. “Or you can stay if you want. I’m out.”

  I knew it would be futile to argue. “Fine. We’ll leave tomorrow and I’ll move out when we get home.”

  “Good,” he said, though it didn’t quite sound like he meant it.

  I fought back the tears as we continued toward the hotel, once again in silence. At the Buckhead Marriott, Charles pulled up to the valet.

  “Good afternoon, welcome to the Marriott, are you checking in?” the valet asked as he opened Charles’s door.

  “Yes,” Charles replied. “One night.”

  The valet gave Charles a ticket as he took his keys. “There are two bags in the trunk,” Charles told him.

  By the time another attendant opened my door, Charles was in the lobby. I followed Charles inside, stunned that he hadn’t bothered to wait for me. I arrived at the desk just as he was handing the clerk his license and credit card.

  “Mr. Clayton, we have you all set in a king suite,” th
e front desk clerk said.

  “Would it be possible to change that to two separate regular king rooms?”

  The woman looked from him to me, then said, “Of course.” She tapped on her keyboard. “I’m so sorry, I have two king rooms but they’re not on the same floor,” she said.

  “That’s perfect,” he said.

  I swallowed, struggling to suppress that stone that now seemed to want to live in my throat. I needed to help Charles work through this; I wanted to help him handle his hurt. But honestly, taking care of him only was how we got to this place. I needed to focus on me.

  The attendant checked us in, then said, “Here are the keys, Mr. Clayton.” She handed both keys to him.

  Her glance turned to me and her eyes were filled with sympathy. But when she glanced back at Charles, she gave him a long smile.

  And when he gave me one key, then turned back to the attendant giving her the same smile, I spun around, grabbed my luggage, and made my way to the elevator without turning around to see if Charles was following me.

  By the time I got to the elevator, I realized that he was not.

  Chapter 16

  I rolled over again, then again, once again. Finally, I sat up, and in the darkness, I leaned back against the headboard. Pulling my knees to my chest, I wrapped my arms around my legs. Maybe that would keep me in place. Keep me in this room so that I wouldn’t do what I really wanted to do. And that was to go to Charles’s room. I wanted to knock on his door, make him let me in, then hold him and comfort him and tell him that I was so sorry. Let him know that I never wanted to hurt him. My mind raced back to the last time that I’d hurt him. That had been the only time he’d ever been mean to me. Well, until now.

  I took a deep breath and summoned up the strength to do what I needed to do. We’d been together less than six months but I knew this relationship wouldn’t work.

  “Charles, honey, we need to talk,” I told him as I entered his luxury apartment. His sports anchor salary definitely had him living a life I knew nothing about.

  Charles closed the door and walked to his recliner to sit down. “Okay, what’s wrong now?” He kicked back in the chair and muted the TV.

  I sat down on the sofa across from him and immediately started fumbling with my purse strap.

  “Look, I’ve been thinking about us.”

  “Good things, I hope.” Charles leaned forward and flashed a smile.

  “Please, Charles, you’re not making this easy.”

  Charles stopped smiling. “Aja, what’s going on? Not making what easy?”

  “I’ve been doing a lot of thinking. And I just think . . . well . . . I just believe . . . I don’t think things are working out between us.” I fought back tears but was determined not to cry.

  “What? Where did this come from?”

  “It’s just not working.”

  “Aja, this is crazy. You come to me out of the blue with this crap. Does this have anything to do with Candace?” he asked, referring to his ex-girlfriend, who had tried to cause trouble with us.

  “No, it doesn’t. It has to do with us. You and me. It’s just I don’t think I should be focusing on a relationship right now. My sister’s getting better and she needs my attention. Then there’s Eric.”

  “What?” Charles rubbed his temples. “You’ve got to be kidding me! Where did this come from?”

  “I’m sorry, Charles. I knew I should’ve never gotten involved in the first place. I knew I wasn’t ready.” My voice was soft as I spoke. But that didn’t stop his from rising.

  “Wasn’t ready?” Charles shook his head like he was trying to process what was going on. “I don’t understand you, Aja. One minute things are great between us and the next you come at me with this BS.”

  “It’s not BS. You never have understood my relationship with my brother and sister, how important they are to me.” I knew I was grasping at straws, but I didn’t know what else to tell him.

  Charles stood up and started pacing. “I don’t believe this. I have been there for you and your family, put up with your histrionics, your lack of trust in me. Here I am talking about a future and you’re telling me you don’t think things are working?”

  “I’m sorry.”

  Charles spun around, his face fiery with anger. “You’re sorry? Is that the best you can do? You’re sorry?! No, you know what, Aja, I’m sorry! I’m sorry I got involved with you! I’m tired of dealing with this. You women are always hollering about finding a good man and you get one and don’t know what to do with him!”

  “Charles . . .”

  “Don’t Charles me.” He lowered his voice. “I’m tired of this indecisive crap. You got issues, Aja. And I can’t deal with ’em. Maybe you’re right. Maybe we weren’t meant to be.”

  “I was hoping we could handle this like adults and stay friends.”

  “Friends? No thanks, I got enough friends.”

  “Charles, please.”

  “Aja, go. Just go.” Charles turned his back. I could no longer hold back the tears. I reached in my purse and pulled out a tissue.

  He turned around and glared at me. “What are you crying for? This is what you wanted.”

  “You don’t have to be so mean.”

  “Mean?” Charles laughed, then turned to face me. “You’re the one who came over here with this out of nowhere. Mean? No, Aja, I’m not mean. I’m tired, tired of trying to make you love me, of always coming second and pretending like it doesn’t bother me, tired of watching you make your life miserable over your damn brother, tired of you blaming yourself for something that happened fifteen years ago. I’m just tired.” Charles walked over and opened the front door. “So I’m through. You got your wish, I’m through.”

  Charles held the door open. I slowly stood up. My face felt full and swollen. “Charles, can we talk about this some more?”

  “Goodbye, Aja.” I wanted so badly to tell him the real reason that I was breaking up with him. I thought he’d cheated with his ex-girlfriend so I’d cheated with my ex-boyfriend. When I found out his ex had been lying, I was devastated. I had made some screwed-up choices in life. But I felt I was doing the right thing by setting Charles free.

  I just looked at Charles, then walked outside. I stopped and turned to face him. “I do love you.”

  “You have a hell of a way of showing it.” Charles slammed the door.

  The memory of that night made me shiver. Charles and I had gotten back together after that because he was there for me after Eric died. But rebuilding the trust that I wouldn’t hurt him again had taken some time. And I’d kept my word to never bring him that kind of pain again.

  Until now.

  I wanted desperately to go to Charles, tell him how sorry I was, convince him how sorry I was. But I couldn’t do that. Because that would only complicate our situation and we didn’t need that. So I sat up, holding my knees until I was exhausted. Then I lay down and turned and tossed. Then tossed and turned.

  Finally, I just lay on my back and stared at the ceiling. And in those quiet moments, I realized something—while I really wanted to comfort Charles, I wasn’t questioning myself. I was doing the right thing. I was doing what I had to do.

  My cell phone buzzed and I frowned as I glanced at the clock on the nightstand: 3:17.

  In the few seconds that it took for me to reach for the phone, my heart pounded. Was this Anika? Was something wrong with my daughter?

  Meet me downstairs at 8. We can go to the parents’ meeting, say goodbye to Anika, and get back to Houston.

  I stared at the message for a moment. Charles couldn’t sleep either. But there was nothing I could do. I slipped back beneath the covers, closed my eyes, and prayed for peace on this night and all the nights to come.

  I yawned as I stepped off the elevator, then rolled my bag down the long hallway to the front lobby. It was only a little after 7:30, but I’d wanted to come down early, grab a cup of coffee, and wrap my brain around all that was going to happen today. We wer
e going to say goodbye to our daughter and then fly home before tonight, when I’d say goodbye to my life as I’d known it.

  My mouth stretched into another yawn, and when I made my way around the corner, I stopped. There was Charles, sitting in one of the round booths, reading a USA Today.

  “Oh,” I said as I approached him. “Good morning.”

  “Morning,” he replied. He folded the newspaper, took a sip from the coffee cup in front of him, then he stood. “Are you ready?”

  His tone, his demeanor was so cold. He hadn’t even asked if I wanted coffee or anything. But again, how could I blame him? It was jarring, though. So out of his character.

  Rolling my bag behind me, I followed him through the revolving door, then outside where our car was already waiting. The valet took our bags, I slipped into the car—once again opening the door myself—then waited for Charles to get in.

  This time, I didn’t fight the silence. I just let it be and settled into my own thoughts. Of how Charles and I had spent twenty really good years—at least for him.

  We parked in the lot of the student services building and then signed in for the parent meeting. As we sat in the auditorium, I wondered if Charles was listening because I wasn’t. Oh, I was putting on a good enough act, nodding and pretending that I was interested in Anika’s classes and the changes coming to the campus. But I was thinking about today and how different my life would be in twenty-four hours.

  When we left orientation, we headed in silence to Anika’s room. I knocked on her door and a moment later, she answered.

  “Mom. Dad.” She threw her arms around me, then her father. “Come on in. You’re just in time. Cynthia arrived last night and her parents are here,” she said, referring to her friend. “And guess what? She has a private room right next to me.”

  “We just wanted to make sure you got settled,” Charles said. “Our flight is actually in a couple hours, so we’re not going to be able to stay long.”

  Anika frowned. “What? You’re going back? Why so soon?” she asked. “I thought you were staying through the weekend.”