'Til I Want No More

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'Til I Want No More Page 12

by Robin W. Pearson


  “Are you okay?” He twirled her curly ponytail and massaged the back of her neck.

  “Yes,” she answered into his shoulder. “I just need to think.”

  “What about?” His breath moved the hair on her crown.

  “Everything. Don’t you?”

  Teddy pulled back and searched her face. His eyes looked like a cloudy sky. “Everything like what?”

  “Like . . . what the Atwaters said.”

  “Well, if you’re worried, don’t be.”

  Maxine jumped slightly. “Worried about what?”

  “What you told us. About Celeste. I won’t mention it. And it’s okay. I’m not upset . . . anymore. You were right: it was family business. So—”

  “So what? You feel like going out to dinner and moving on with our lives?”

  “No-o-o. I was going to say, ‘So let it go.’ I can tell you’re taking their story pretty hard. What’s wrong, Maxine? I was impacted, too, but you’re like this every time we leave his office. Even more so today. Is there some load I can help you carry?”

  This is what happens when I think and speak at the same time. Over Teddy’s shoulder Maxine saw another car pull into the lot. When the driver door opened, a willowy blonde woman stepped out. The stranger laughed as a much shorter red-haired man slammed the passenger door and trotted around the car. They said something Maxine couldn’t hear before they kissed and turned toward the church, their clasped hands swinging between them. Free. Unburdened. One.

  “Maxine?” Teddy placed a soft fingertip on her chin and gently nudged her face back in his direction. He trapped her eyes. “You have a freebie, remember? Do you have something else you need to tell me?”

  She saw how he forced the corners of his lips up, but his eyes still looked troubled. The day remained only partly sunny. Tears welled because she knew she had caused this, this shadow of fear in a face usually so worry free. Maxine caressed his cheek and drew him close. She rested in the security of his embrace and listened to his heartbeat slow before she rose on tiptoe and put her mouth to his ear so she could whisper the words.

  “Saturday at six. Let’s pretend we’re at Yum Yum.”

  Chapter Twelve

  My Daily Grace—From Cover to Cover

  I have some confessions to make: I love the sweet cream with pecans folded in at Cold Stone, but a carton of Talenti’s butter pecan is a close second. And while I enjoy music from the seventies, thanks to my mother, I always listen to Prince while I clean my bathroom, on long drives, whenever I mop, and while I rake the yard. Also, I don’t like talking to people first thing in the morning. So far, that’s worked out okay for me as a single woman, but come December, that might be a problem. I’m not sure how Hubby-to-be will take to me walking around at 8 a.m. with a scowl on my face, a silk cap covering my hair, and noise-canceling headphones pressed to my ears.

  There are other things I haven’t shared with him or anyone else. Take my water bottle. I can’t stand when someone else uses it. That’s right up there with drying off with my towel, using my toothbrush, and asking for my last bite. Folks say giving these things are all signs of true love, but my last lick of butter pecan ice cream? Never his lips shall meet! For peace in the home, I’ll just mark all water bottles, desserts, and linens “His” and “Hers.”

  Up to now, I’ve revealed shades of my darker side layer by layer. He knows I hate losing, but not that I stopped speaking to my brother for two days after the Saints lost to the Patriots. We both enjoy playing cards, but I haven’t yet told him that I’m a mean spades player. Literally. That I’ve always wanted to drive to California, but I won’t visit Yosemite because I’m scared of grizzlies. And speaking of fear, if it crawls or buzzes, I run.

  You might wonder, “So just what does he know?” Perhaps he’s asking himself the same question at this very moment. Well, he knows I chose my wedding date because it commemorates the day my parents met each other. That as much as I enjoy my sweets, I crave savory even more, so I’d eat King of Pizza on Main Street over Cold Stone if I had to choose. I consider nothing more important than my faith and my family, and I can already picture where he’ll stand in our Christmas photo. And even if he has to use his own toothbrush, towel, and cup, I’ll willingly wash them for him because he’s my boo.

  Mother reassures me that my fiancé will adore and accept all the various parts of me, including the ones marked “selfish,” “poor sport,” “card sharp,” and “scaredy-cat.” I’m just grateful that I know we both believe what the Bible says in 1 Peter 4:8: “And above all things have fervent love for one another, for ‘love will cover a multitude of sins.’”

  But . . . what about all those things that love uncovers?

  Everybody always wants the prettiest, biggest box under the Christmas tree because they expect a puppy or a dollhouse or a television. No one chooses the tiny one with the torn wrapping paper, botched taping job, and the missing bow. Yet the big one might hide a vacuum cleaner, the tiny one diamond earrings. Don’t judge a book by its cover, right? Maybe we should stop with the first two words: Don’t judge. Period. Something I learned firsthand today.

  In terms of books, my fiancé is open wide. I can clearly read what his heart says because he shares it freely. I hope we spend the next several decades pulling back the layers of our relationship and trusting in God, who never changes, who can identify Himself simply as I AM while we reveal our true selves behind what we do, what we believe, and who we know. Whether you have a Hubby- or Wife-to-be, or you’re dodging the image in the mirror, trust that God knows. He sees who we are without the bells, whistles, bows, and wrapping. There’s no surprise or disappointment and no big reveal.

  I wish I could say the same, for my fiancé’s sake. Pray for him, y’all.

  But the Lord said to Samuel, “Do not look at his appearance or at his physical stature . . . For the Lord does not see as man sees; for man looks at the outward appearance, but the Lord looks at the heart.” 1 Samuel 16:7

  Maxine reviewed her post for the fifth time and submitted it. She slowly closed her laptop and slipped on her usual doubts and worries as she would a ratty old sweater. Staring past her desk into the dark expanse beyond the window, she vowed, “The day after tomorrow, Teddy. The sun will come out the day after tomorrow.”

  April

  “Salvation—it doesn’t change who you are. It changes where you’re going.”

  REVEREND LORAN LIVINGSTON

  Chapter Thirteen

  “I’M GLAD YOU COULD MEET ME HERE. It’s so good to see you.” The smile Maxine mustered felt like an old pair of jeans: faded, weathered, frayed at the edges.

  Evelyn gently cupped the infant’s head with her free hand and leaned back in the leather armchair. “It’s good to be seen. You know, this is my first outing with Lauren. Thanks for the diapers, by the way. Who knows when I’ll get around to writing you a note.”

  “Girl, please. Just your being here with me is thank you enough. I didn’t want to be alone.”

  “The day after tomorrow” had arrived at its appointed time, but Teddy hadn’t. When he’d canceled their date due to a family emergency, Maxine had reached out to Evelyn. From the spot Maxine had claimed by the door of the bookstore, she watched the rain pound the sidewalk, run in rivulets down the street, and swirl around the manhole covers.

  “You did me the favor by inviting me. I was able to pick up some nighttime reading.”

  Maxine peeked at Evelyn’s armload. “Ooh, Guess How Much I Love You . . . Goodnight Moon . . . Owl Babies . . . Good Night Zoo . . . Kia Tanisha Drives Her Car . . . The Snowy Day . . . An American Marriage. Okay, good choices for Lauren?”

  Evelyn laughed. “Mama’s gotta read, too.”

  Buzz. Buzz. She glanced down at her phone and frowned at the familiar number. “It’s Teddy.”

  “While you take that, I’ll go check out.” Evelyn stood carefully, adjusting the baby in her cotton sling.

  Maxine watched them go as she swiped to accept
the call. “Teddy?”

  “Hey, babe.”

  “How’s your dad? Are you sure you don’t need me?” She listened to him blow out a breath.

  “I always need you.”

  Maxine smiled at his familiar answer. It was like the call and response in church.

  “But no, you don’t need to come to the hospital. Nothing seems broken from his fall, and right now he’s getting blood work and X-rays to make sure everything’s okay. Frankly, Dad could use this special attention, as expensive as it may be. Since Mother’s still in New Orleans, it’s mostly been the two of us this year—and you know where my attention is these days. It’ll be good for him to get this checkup and have some father-son time. For me, too . . .” His voice petered out.

  “You’re so blessed to have each other, Teddy. Don’t take it for granted.”

  “I don’t. But I’m sorry about having to reschedule our talk.”

  “Oh, that.”

  “‘Oh, that.’ It didn’t sound like ‘Oh, that’ the other day.”

  Maxine watched shoppers enter and exit the store. She gave Evelyn a thumbs-up as the new mother bounced and swayed in the queue. “No worries, Teddy. To me, even a little rain looks like a hurricane.” She swallowed. “So what are your plans, exactly?”

  “I’ll call you tonight once I get the lay of the land, but I’ve already taken off next week. Maybe Dad and I will drive up to Asheville and visit the art shops there. Do the Biltmore thing. If the doctor gives him the all clear, I might even take him back home to New Orleans, see Mother, see some old friends, reconnect with my Creole roots. Shrimp étouffée goes a long way to heal what ails you.”

  “Do—?”

  “I know what you’re going to ask, but I think it’s better if it’s just him and me. I know you understand, hon. And don’t worry about the wedding planning.”

  If he only knew. But Maxine couldn’t—wouldn’t—think about that now. “I’m just worried about you. And your father, of course. Since you don’t want my company, is there anything I can do from here?”

  “How about watering Dad’s garden midweek?”

  Maxine chuckled. “You know my thumb is brown, Teddy. I shouldn’t go anywhere near his plants. Not if you want them to live.”

  “You’re right. I’ll ask his neighbor. Hmm . . . I know there was something I thought of while I was sitting here, and I put it in my notes so I wouldn’t forget. Oh! For one, you’ll need to talk to your grandparents about rescheduling our double date. And for two . . .”

  Maxine listened to him think out loud. “Anything.”

  “Call Pastor Atwater. Let him know what’s going on with Dad.”

  Anything but that, she almost said, but Teddy was off and away before she could find the words to gracefully decline.

  Maxine frowned at the gray expanse beyond the window, for it seemed Teddy had taken the sun with him. Turning away from the dreary day, she studied the stacks and considered browsing for new authors but discarded the idea. No telling what book she’d go home with considering her mood.

  Suddenly a dark, silky orb blocked her view. It took a second to register that it was actually a swath of Lauren’s hair poking out from the sling. The rest of her body was swaddled in that swirl of green fabric across Evelyn’s chest. Maxine rose from her seat, grateful for any distraction that delayed her call to Reverend Atwater.

  “Is everything okay with Teddy?”

  Maxine grimaced. “His dad took a fall, and he’s with him at the hospital.”

  “I’m sorry.” Evelyn stroked her baby’s head as if to shield the tiny life from any negativity.

  “Thanks. He says it’s nothing that TLC and Creole food won’t cure. So that’s the good news. But they’re going to take a father-son road trip. That’s the bad news, for me anyway. Teddy’s relationship with his dad is part of what I love most about him.” Maxine shrugged, knowing she didn’t have to explain to Evelyn, whose father had also died when she was a teen.

  “My goodness. Lauren is too sweet,” Maxine whispered, wincing at the unexpected pang.

  “She’s a treasure. I’d let you hold her, but—”

  “Oh, no thanks! Don’t get me wrong—I’ve been around my brothers and sister, and I know you don’t wake a sleeping baby. Besides, I’d hate to give her the cooties.”

  “You’re sick?” Evelyn took a step back. Again, her hand shielded the infant.

  “No, no,” Maxine reassured her friend. “I just mean she seems too new to share. How are you and Kevin adjusting?”

  “Well, as you said, you’ve been around newborns—and you’ve spent time around parents with newborns. It’s not all like this.” She pointed toward her chest. Lauren squirmed a bit before settling. “But it’s all good.” Then she muttered, almost to herself, “Well, at least it’s all better.”

  Evelyn glanced at her wrist and noted the hour, then looked out the window. “The sun is coming out. You have time to walk with me? When Mama heard I was coming to town, she asked me to meet her. I think she just wants to get her hands on Lauren and spirit us back home.” The new mother slid a hot-pink crocheted cap over the baby’s hair before plopping a waterproof hat on her own short, spiky do.

  Anything but that, Maxine thought again, because suddenly she wanted to hide in a corner by herself. Before she knew it, however, she found herself walking out with Evelyn toward Headquarters, the salon owned by Elisabeth Willis, Evelyn’s mother. Sure enough, the rain had stopped. She looped her purse over her shoulder and hooked her umbrella over her arm before she fell into step with her old friend, who didn’t seem to be in much of a hurry as they sloshed through puddles up Main Street. Maxine was glad for her knee-length rain boots.

  Evelyn readjusted the wriggling, whimpering baby. “Are you okay, Maxine? You haven’t seemed like the old self I know and love, not for weeks.”

  Maxine smirked, thinking, Not since I ran into your brother-in-law in Sassafras.

  “What’s that snort all about?” Apparently satisfied she and the baby were safe from the elements, Evelyn reached into her pocket and withdrew a granola bar. She tore off the wrapper and chucked it into the nearest receptacle. “Yes, you. What’s going on?”

  Maxine moved aside to let a man and his dog pass. “I keep hearing that same old song. ‘Maxine, you’re not yourself.’ Maybe this is really myself. Besides, aren’t you the one who hates talking about her own problems?”

  “Which my grandma pointed out to me is a problem in itself. Trust her to speak her mind.” Evelyn spoke around her mouthful.

  Maxine tacitly acknowledged the truth of her statement, for it wasn’t until after Evelyn and Kevin had reconciled that she had learned Evelyn had separated from him for a time and the couple had nearly divorced during her pregnancy. “You know, Evelyn, Granny B is the only person who could get me to eat pimiento cheese sandwiches. Mama Ruby’s friendship with her probably put ten pounds on me over the years, what with all that recipe swapping.”

  “You’re trying to distract me, and I’m not going to fall for it, so spit it out.” The baby started to wail. Without looking down—or missing a step—Evelyn wedged her snack between her teeth, readjusted Lauren, lifted a hidden flap on her shirt, and attached the baby.

  Maxine tripped over a crack in the sidewalk.

  “Hey, you. My face is up here,” Evelyn snickered around a bite as she snapped her fingers. “You’re as bad as Kevin.”

  Maxine nudged Evelyn’s shoulder. “It’s not you I’m looking at, smarty-pants. You’re just really good at that mothering stuff. And she’s so precious . . .” Maxine’s voice was carried away by the breeze that swirled a strand of hair across her cheek.

  The two women covered the next block in silence. Maxine left Evelyn to her snack and breastfeeding while she focused on dodging drips of water from store awnings and counting squares in the sidewalk. And remembering. She finally glanced to her left when a furniture truck rumbled by, and she intercepted Evelyn’s look. Her girlfriend’s lips were pres
sed together so tightly they paled around the edges. Maxine hastily feigned interest in an antique chifforobe displayed in a window they were passing.

  A car horn broke the seal over Evelyn’s mouth, and she took an audible breath. Words tumbled out into the waterlogged air between them. “What’s up with you and JD?”

  Maxine rolled up all her bravado and used it like a megaphone. “There is no ‘me and JD’! I’m engaged to Theodore Charles, remember?” Teddy Bear. She kicked away the thought as she did a rock under her foot.

  “Maxine, it’s me. You know that’s not what I meant. And I’m not pointing fingers. I only want you to know you don’t have to hide anything from me. We can just skip the salad and the appetizer and get right to the main course.” Evelyn plucked the baby from the sling, put her on her right shoulder, and patted her back gently. “Have you told your Theodore?”

  Maxine almost said, “Yes,” but when she looked at Evelyn, she could see Mama Ruby and Granny B shake their heads and advise, Tell the truth and shame the devil. She swallowed her lie and turned away from the windows they passed. “No. At least not yet. Not everything.” Maxine belted her short trench coat. Despite the early spring warmth, she restrained a shiver. “I was going to talk to him today and ‘let my burdens down,’ as Reverend Atwater encouraged me to do. But then his dad fell.”

  “Well, that’s a game changer.” Evelyn tucked away Lauren and rubbed the baby’s bottom through the sling.

  Maxine planted her feet in front of the deli, so drained she couldn’t walk another step. The metal Boar’s Head Meats sign above her head swung to and fro in the breeze. “Who’s been flapping their lips about this situation, Evelyn? As if I have to ask.”

  “No, you don’t have to ask. Actually, Kevin and I talked about it, after JD talked to him about it. Have mercy, that sounds worse than a game of telephone.” Evelyn grasped Maxine’s hand and pulled her out of the way of two men hurrying toward the door. She guided Maxine to a bench in a small, grassy curve of the sidewalk. “I promise you we weren’t gossiping. It’s a husband-and-wife thing. We tend to share everything. Now, anyway.” Evelyn shifted the baby to her other side as they sat but kept her eyes on Maxine all the while. “When Jay moved back—”

 

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