Instinctively I grabbed Travis’s arm as we made our way over to Mama’s table. There were little name cards to mark our seats. Dayna had made it a point to place me near the end of the table while her family unit surrounded Mama on either side. She also didn’t have a place set for Travis, so she obviously assumed that I wasn’t bringing a date. I made every effort to contain my fury, but my light skin color betrayed me. I could feel the redness creeping up my neck.
Travis squeezed my hand and asked, “Are you okay?”
“Yes. I’m fine.” I smiled bravely. “Come on, so I can introduce you to Mama.”
Mama squinted suspiciously as Travis and I approached. I prayed silently, Lord, please don’t let her embarrass me. Dayna walked up behind Mama just as I was about to make my introduction.
“Charmayne,” Dayna said. “I’m glad that you finally made it.”
I could’ve slapped her. I didn’t know why she always felt the need to show me up. She already had Mama’s favor. Besides, we weren’t that late.
I ignored her and said, “Happy birthday, Mama. I have someone here that I want you to meet.”
Travis extended his hand to shake Mama’s and smiled that charming smile of his. Mama was enchanted, but Dayna snorted under her breath. I wondered what the joke was.
“Mama,” I continued, “I’d like you to meet Travis Moon.”
Mama smiled and then yanked my body down until my ear was next to her mouth. She whispered loudly, “Is he your man?”
Dayna, who had heard the question, snorted again. “I’m Dayna. Charmayne’s sister. It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Moon.”
“Likewise,” replied Travis.
Mama looked up at Travis and said, “Sit down, right here, and tell me about yourself.”
Dayna frowned. “Mama, that’s Ronald’s seat.”
“Well, it’s okay, Dayna. I already know Ronald. I’d like to get acquainted with Travis.”
I smirked at Dayna, and she marched off to attend to some imaginary business. I breathed a sigh of relief. Mama seemed to approve of Travis so far.
He sat down beside Mama and asked, “What birthday is this? Your fortieth?”
Mama giggled and smacked at Travis’s arm. “Honey, I ain’t seen forty in a long time.”
“Well, you don’t look old enough to have a thirty-six-year-old daughter, that’s for sure.”
Mama blushed. “Yes, I do, but it is quite gentlemanly of you to say otherwise. Somebody raised you right.”
I scanned the room for Lynette and Ebony, because it was obvious that neither Travis nor Mama needed any input from me. Neither of my friends had arrived yet, but I watched with amusement as Dayna tried to force Ronald, who was at the appetizer table, to come over to Mama.
I listened to Travis as he charmed my mother off her feet. He talked about his work, and she seemed enthralled. How exciting could home maintenance be? I heard him tell Mama that he’d just landed an out-of-town client. That was news to me. Perhaps he’d forgotten to mention it. I made a mental note to ask him about it after the party.
I waved to Lynette and Jonathan when they came in. Lynette walked around the table and hugged Mama. Jonathan kissed me on my cheek.
“Lynette, have you met Charmayne’s date?” Mama gushed.
“Yes, I have. He was at my wedding.”
Mama frowned. “Charmayne, why didn’t you introduce us at Lynette’s wedding?”
“I’d only just met him myself,” I replied truthfully.
“You see how she treats me?” Mama asked Travis. “She’s so embarrassed of her dear mother that she won’t even introduce me to her dates.”
I shook my head and sighed. Nothing was ever going to change with Mama. Lynette squeezed my hand, silently offering her support.
While Mama and Travis continued to chat, Lynette looked at me with a sparkle in her eyes. She took my arm as she and Jonathan left to find a seat. I excused myself from Mama and Travis, who barely noticed that I was getting up from the table.
Lynette grinned from ear to ear. “Girl, your mama is drooling over Travis and he’s eating it up. I bet she’d marry you off to him tomorrow.”
I laughed. “Tonight, honey. She really likes him.”
“What about Dayna?”
“Dayna is too busy trying to run the show to be concerned with Travis.”
The next sounds we heard were Dayna’s voice combined with a shrieking noise—feedback from the microphone that Dayna was holding. She was announcing that it was time for everyone to take their seats, and that dinner and presentations were about to begin. Lynette sat down at her table, and I took my seat next to Travis. Dayna had a chair added to the head table so that all of her family was represented properly.
Dayna announced, “This birthday celebration is in honor of my beautiful mother, Claudette Ellis. Words cannot express how much I love and cherish her. I’m going to try to sing a song tonight that depicts just a fraction of what I feel for my mother.”
I growled under my breath. “I knew she was going to sing!”
Travis smiled at me and put his arm around me lovingly in an attempt to calm my nerves. I was still furious. Dayna knew that I couldn’t sing a lick. It was a chance for her to outshine me—again.
Ebony walked into the party just as the music began. She waved as she sat down at a table with people she didn’t know. Most of the guests were members from Mama’s church, which she rarely attended.
Everyone listened in awe as Dayna sang “You Are So Beautiful to Me.” In my opinion she added way too many runs and extra notes, and sang the same verse too many times, but everyone else seemed to enjoy it, especially Mama. There were tears in her eyes as her favorite daughter sang to her. It was just what Dayna needed to draw attention away from me and Travis and place it back where she wanted it—on herself.
The audience gave Dayna a standing ovation. I felt betrayed when my two friends stood clapping as loudly as everyone else. I couldn’t be the only one in the room not giving Dayna accolades, so I stood with the others.
After Dayna sang her song, the dinner was served. It was adequate, to say the least. I hadn’t agreed to Dayna’s plans for a five-course meal. We stuck with a tossed salad, chicken, vegetables, and roasted potatoes. It was standard fare, but it was tasty and filling.
Next on Dayna’s program came the presentations by her children. Erin and Koree did a little dance that wasn’t even cute. I felt sorry for them little babies. Mama looked pleased, though.
Mama clapped her hands and bragged to Travis, “You see! Those are my granddaughters. They will be dancing with Alvin Ailey one day.”
Travis nodded in agreement and clapped as fervently as Mama. Dayna had Ronald Jr. recite a poem by Langston Hughes. He stopped and started about five times, but finally made it through the entire piece.
“That’s my baby!” shouted Dayna, sounding exactly like Mama. I shook my head and clapped. I hoped Dayna was done humiliating her family for the evening.
After the presentations, a jazz band played while everyone enjoyed chatting or dancing. I’d wanted to have a soloist from my church sing a song or two, but Dayna had stubbornly objected. She said that she didn’t want to make Mama feel guilty for only going to church a few times a year.
Mama finally turned her attention back to me and Travis. She asked about his family, and again I found out information I’d never known. Travis was an only child, and he had been raised by his mother. I wondered to myself just what were me and Travis talking about on the phone that I had neglected to collect such pertinent information.
“Charmayne,” Mama said as the night drew to a close, “you better hang on to this one. I know a good man when I see one.”
I didn’t know how to respond to that, because—other than Daddy—Mama absolutely did not know a good man when she saw one. And it wasn’t like she was going to pray for me, either. Mama’s approval of Travis was almost a warning. I watched as Travis continued to smile and chat with Mama. If he was trying t
o win her over, then his mission was accomplished.
On the way home I asked Travis casually, “When were you going to tell me about your client?”
“I just finalized the deal this afternoon. I was going to tell you tonight.”
I nodded. “So how far out of town is your client located?”
“Just in Detroit. Four hours away at the most.”
“Detroit? How are you going to swing that? Are you moving there?” There was a bit of alarm in my voice. I was not sure that I wanted this relationship at all, much less a long-distance one.
“My old friend Les and his wife live there. He said that I could crash with them for the four days out of the week that I need to be in town. I’m only going to have to give him two hundred bucks a month.”
“Is that practical?”
“Well, before I pick up and move to another state, I want to make sure that this client is going to work out. It’s a new senior center, and they want me to do all nonurgent maintenance requests for a flat rate every month. I don’t know how much work they’ll have me doing, or if I’ll even like it.”
I wanted to ask how he’d even found the client, but I didn’t want to seem like I was prying. For some reason, I sounded to myself like a nagging wife, asking question after question.
Breaking the brief silence Travis asked, “So are you going to take your mother’s advice?”
“What advice?”
“She told you to hold on to me.”
I looked into Travis’s eyes, and I couldn’t see anything in them that would cause me any harm. All I could see was the intensity of his feelings for me. Travis just had to be a blessing from heaven. It was only my reckless emotions that were causing me to feel any doubt.
I answered seriously, “I’d like to, Travis. Just give me something to hold on to.”
CHAPTER Fourteen
Present
When I first walked into the job interview, I truly felt confident. The job was supervisor of sorter operations at Union National Bank. It was the first bank job I’d applied for since I resigned from Grace Savings and Loan. I was more than qualified for the job, I was completely prepared for the interview, and I was looking good. I was down to a pleasingly thick 190 pounds, and for the first time since I could remember I actually shopped in a normal-size women’s store for my interview suit.
The first sign of trouble was when the receptionist told me that it was going to be a panel interview. I hated those. The idea of having three or more people shooting questions at me seemed like cruel and unusual punishment.
Still, I held my head up and put on my game face as I sat down in front of the three interviewers. One of them was a very young woman whom I figured was the human resource representative. She looked like she’d only graduated from college the week before. There was a seasoned-looking African American woman and an older gray-haired gentleman. I chose to focus on the black woman, hoping she’d be an ally.
The first questions were standard fare. I was asked about my background, my strengths and weaknesses, my goals and ambitions. I’d asked similar questions so many times that I recited the proper responses with ease.
My supposed ally was the one who ventured into dark waters. “It says here on your résumé that you were the president of Grace Savings and Loan. This seems to be a backward career move for you. Do you care to elaborate on why you left there?”
No, I didn’t want to elaborate at all, and I couldn’t believe that she’d asked the question. Of course, she couldn’t call up Grace and get a definite answer. It was against the law for them to discuss the terms of my resignation.
“It was a joint management decision,” I replied dryly, hoping that would satisfy the hungry interviewer.
She frowned. “I see.” She then started scribbling furiously on her little notepad. I wanted to get up and smack her.
It only went downhill from there. Another interviewer, this time the gentleman, asked, “After commanding an entire financial institution, do you think that this entry-level supervisor job will provide you with enough of a challenge?”
“Anytime I’m in a new environment with new people, there is enough to keep me interested in my work. I put my heart and soul into everything I do,” I answered with a smile.
I was getting irritated with the whole interview. I hadn’t gone through an entry-level interview in years, and I was starting to be sickened with the canned responses that were expected. What I really wanted to say was, Look, this job is paying a quarter of what I was making at Grace. I can do it with my eyes closed, so let’s cut the games. I can start immediately. Of course, I had to sit there with my interview smile on and my eyes bright, glassy, and eager.
The wrap-up part of the interview couldn’t come soon enough. I had expected a tour of the office, and to be introduced to the operations staff. That was not going to happen.
“Ms. Ellis,” the black woman said. “You have an impressive list of qualifications here. Unfortunately, we don’t have any positions available that match your skill set.”
I wanted to scream. I’d gotten up early in the morning for that interview. I’d paid seventy dollars getting my hair done. Worse of all, they knew I could do the job—of that, I’m certain.
She continued, “We will put your résumé in the up-and-coming file and contact you when we have something on tap that would better utilize your education and experience.”
I forced myself to smile through dry thank-yous and good-byes. I didn’t go out of my way to leave an impression because I knew that I’d never hear from them. Their up-and-coming file was probably at the back of somebody’s filing cabinet.
I’d thought I was beyond the habit of healing myself with food, but after that interview I needed a good hearty meal to lift my spirits. I decided to go to the grocery store and get the ingredients for my stuffed chicken Parmesan. But I would not go wild: I would only buy one chicken breast and get the whole wheat pasta. That would keep me from overdoing it and killing my diet.
I boldly marched past the in-store bakery to the meat department, but my nose was still accosted by the aromas of baking bread, cakes and cookies. I read in a diet book once that a dieter should stick to the outer aisles of a grocery store, because that’s where the healthiest foods were stocked. Well, I guess my neighborhood store got smart and put the bakery right between produce and meats. I was tempted, but praise God, it was going to take more than a whiff of a doughnut to push me back over the two-hundred-pound mark.
I picked a juicy-looking chicken breast and headed for the pasta aisle. Halfway down, I stopped the cart abruptly, as if I were about to run over a small child. Standing in front of me was Travis.
I wanted to take my cart and run in the opposite direction, but my feet were frozen in place. First my hands started to tremble, and then my entire body followed. My heart was beating so quickly and so loudly, I was sure the man could hear it. I opened up my mouth to speak, but the only sound that came out was something of a croak. The sound got the man’s attention, and he turned around. I was only partially relieved to see that it wasn’t Travis after all.
“Ma’am, are you all right?” asked the stranger.
“Y-yes. I’m fine.” I tried to smile then rushed away.
But I was not fine. If the man had truly been Travis, I didn’t know what I would’ve done or said. After all the therapy I’d had, I still was unable to fathom the thought of coming face-to-face with Travis.
Maybe the whole thing was hopeless. Perhaps I was never going to recover from what that man had done to my life. It was bad enough that I couldn’t get a job; I was also a broken-up shell of a woman. I stood there in the grocery aisle crying. All my comparisons to Rizpah and Leah were pointless. I was nothing like them. I prayed for strength to leave the grocery store, and after a few deep breaths I was able to walk again. I left my cart where it was and went home to nurse all my reopened wounds.
CHAPTER Fifteen
Past
Travis and I had decid
ed to spend the day at the art museum. It was one of my favorite pastimes. I enjoyed examining the pieces and trying to figure out what was going through the artist’s mind at the time of creation. My favorite exhibit was the Egyptian ruins.
We stood, in awe, looking at the mummified remains of an Egyptian princess. If the painting on her sarcophagus was any indication of her beauty, then she had been stunning.
I remarked, “I bet she never had to lift a finger to do anything.”
“Is that what you want?” Travis asked. “To never lift a finger?”
I thought about the question for a moment. I had never envisioned a time in my life that I wouldn’t be working to achieve something.
I shook my head. “No. But I would like to find out the one thing I was put on this earth to do, and then do it.”
“What makes you think it’s only one thing?” asked Travis. “Maybe God has several things for you to do. Maybe being at home and never lifting a finger would free you to fulfill God’s purpose.”
I tilted my head to one side and smiled. “Are you saying that if we get married, you don’t want me to work?”
“I’d only want you to work if it was necessary for our survival. I would want you to enjoy being a wife and let me worry about providing for our household.”
“That’s rather primitive, don’t you think?” I quipped, eager for the discussion to continue. I wanted to know Travis’s mind on the issue.
“I don’t think so. God gave Adam everything that he needed for his bride. He had a home and a job.”
“Well, we’re a long way from Adam and Eve, and you’re going to have to show me the money if you want me to leave Grace Savings and Loan.”
Travis smiled. “Not yet, but I will.”
Farther Than I Meant to Go, Longer Than I Meant to Stay Page 11