Farther Than I Meant to Go, Longer Than I Meant to Stay

by Tiffany L. Warren

  “Where’s your husband?” she asked.

  “Merry Christmas, Mama,” I said, trying to avoid the question.

  She persisted. “Is Travis parking the car?”

  “No, Mama. He can’t make it. He’s out of town on business.”

  Dayna poked her head out from the kitchen. “What? Doesn’t he have his own business? He didn’t give himself the holiday off?”

  I bit my lower lip and tried to hide my irritation. “Merry Christmas, Dayna.”

  “Well?” Dayna insisted on an answer to her question.

  “His client had an emergency. The two of us will just have to celebrate later.”

  Dayna shook her head with pseudo-sadness. “Awww. That’s too bad.”

  I ignored her and handed out gifts to my nieces and nephew. I’d gotten Erin and Koree dolls and three outfits apiece from The Gap. I bought Ronald Jr. a remote-controlled car and some expensive tennis shoes. I handed Ronald Sr. my yearly gift to the children of a $250 savings bonds for each of them. It was my contribution to their college funds.

  Ronald said, “Thank you, Charmayne. You spoil these kids.”

  “She can afford it,” said Dayna as she emerged from the kitchen. “What did you get me?”

  My sister and I exchanged gifts, and I also handed Ronald a small package. Dayna looked disappointed when she opened her gift—a sweater. Ronald got the usual silk tie. She was so ungrateful! I couldn’t believe she had the audacity to frown on my gift when she’d bought me a pair of gloves and a scarf.

  “All right,” said Mama, “when do I get to open my gifts?”

  Dayna grinned. “Right now, Mama!”

  Dayna presented the gift from her family, which was a forty-eight-inch flat-screen television. The thing was so huge that it was going to practically swallow up Mama’s living room. One thing was for sure: Mama would no longer have a problem seeing or hearing her favorite soap operas.

  Mama gushed, “Ooh, Dayna! Y’all shouldn’t have spent all this money on me.”

  Ronald mumbled something under his breath, and Dayna nudged him in the ribs. They probably couldn’t afford the gift, but money was absolutely no object to Dayna—even if she didn’t have it.

  She looked over at me with a superior smirk on her lips. “Your turn.”

  I got up and handed Mama the envelope. Dayna hovered over Mama so that she could be the first to approve or disapprove of my gift. She realized what the gift was before Mama did, and her mouth dropped open at the sight of the plane tickets.

  “Cancún? Who in the world will Mama go to Cancún with?” asked Dayna sharply.

  Mama giggled, “I have friends! Thank you, Charmayne, baby. I’m gone finally get to ride in an airplane. I’m calling Ruby right now to tell her the good news.”

  Dayna rolled her eyes at me and went into the kitchen. I followed her so that I could help with the dinner—and try to contain the nasty conversation that was sure to follow. I knew it was going to be ugly when Dayna started slamming silverware and dishes.

  “What is your problem?” I asked, wanting to get the whole thing over with.

  She pointed at me with a huge serving fork. “You. You are my problem.”

  I shook my head angrily. “I haven’t done anything to you, Dayna.”

  “You do the same thing every year. You find a way to upstage me with your money.”

  “Mama told me that she wanted a trip. Don’t get mad at me because you couldn’t afford to give it to her.”

  Dayna’s eyes bulged furiously. “Do you have any idea how much overtime Ronald had to work to get that television? And then here you come, waving your magic credit card wand.”

  “The gifts that I choose for Mama don’t have anything to do with you.”

  “Oh, yes, they do. Just like that man you married.”

  She caught me completely off guard with her reference to Travis. “What do you mean?”

  “You had to find the prettiest Negro in the city, didn’t you? It’s all part of what you do to make Mama love you more.”

  She thought Mama loved me more? I wanted to ask her what world she was living in. I had heard our mother sing Dayna’s praises since the day she was born, but she felt unloved?

  Just then Mama came into the kitchen. Dayna and I both had tense expressions on our faces that we tried to soften as Mama approached. As angry as we were, neither one of us wanted her to know that we were arguing at all, much less about her Christmas gifts.

  Mama asked, “Is everything all right in here?”

  Dayna replied, “Yes, Mama. Go on back in there and enjoy your grandbabies. Me and Charmayne can take care of the dinner.”

  “Okay then.” Mama eyed me and Dayna suspiciously, but decided to let the matter drop and went back to fiddle with her new television.

  When Mama was out of earshot, I whispered, “The choices that I make in my life have nothing to do with you. Not what I buy Mama, and not who I marry.”

  I knew that the conversation was over when Dayna started humming. That was something that she’d picked up from our mother. Whenever Mama wanted to end an argument with our father, she would get in her last word and start humming a gospel tune. It’s very hard to argue with someone who is humming “I Love You Lord” or “Amazing Grace.” The person still trying to argue comes across as a devil. Dayna’s tune of choice was “I Can’t Complain.”

  I started boiling water for the macaroni and cheese while Dayna prepared the corn bread dressing. With our backs to each other we did what Mama expected us to do. I didn’t know how to recover from Dayna’s verbal assault. She had cut me deep with her accusations, no matter how ridiculous they were in actuality.

  I wanted to turn to Dayna and tell her how much I admired her family and her relationship with Mama. I wanted to tell her how beautiful I thought she was. But I didn’t—couldn’t. All I could do was stare into a pot of water and wish that I was a hundred miles away.

  CHAPTER Twenty-three

  Past

  Travis returned home two days after Christmas, and as promised we celebrated on the night of his return. His gifts to me were a set of gold hair combs and a sweater that was two sizes too small. I was thrilled, even though the presents weren’t perfect. He could’ve given me a blender and some hiking boots and I would’ve been pleased. His biggest gift to me had been marrying me—and I was still thanking God for that.

  It seemed as if Travis had been gone forever, and I was excited to have him back home. I didn’t know if I was keen on his business anymore, not if it meant that he was going to be away days at a time. It didn’t really seem to be worth it.

  I fed Travis the turkey dinner that I’d prepared, with all of the traditional fixings. I was tired of turkey myself, seeing that I’d just gorged myself on it at my mother’s house two days before, but this was our first Christmas and I wanted to do everything right.

  I wanted to top off our Christmas celebration with something extra special, so at bedtime I took a long bath and emerged into the bedroom wearing pretty lace lingerie. Travis seemed uninterested and barely glanced away from the television. I didn’t know how to take his reaction. I’d never heard of a man willingly turning down sex with his brand-new wife.

  “Travis,” I asked, “is there something wrong?”

  He smiled up at me, as if he’d just then noticed what I was wearing. “No, honey. I’m exhausted. It’s been a long week.”

  “Well, why don’t you let me help you relax,” I offered.

  Travis patted his hand on the bed, motioning for me to sit. “Come lie next to me. I don’t have the energy for all that tonight, but I wouldn’t mind some cuddling.”

  I obediently took my place on my side of the bed. I was confused and hurt, but I wasn’t going to let Travis see that. He was blasting every stereotype that I’d ever known about men and about marriage. Men were supposed to be insatiable, and women were supposed to oblige them with their wifely due. No one ever mentioned anything about him being too tired for me.
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br />   I was so disturbed about Travis turning me away that I could think of nothing else when Lynette and I went out for lunch the following day. She was rattling on and on about the tennis bracelet that Jonathan had bought her for Christmas, and how he had spoiled her sons with gifts. I smiled and nodded at all the appropriate places, but she still noticed my detachment.

  “Girl, what is wrong with you?” she asked.

  “Nothing. Why do you ask?”

  “Because you are a million miles away from here.”

  “Tell me,” I ventured cautiously. “What would you think if Jonathan turned you down in the bedroom?”

  Immediately she replied, “I’d think he was getting it somewhere else.”

  I believe it was the look of sheer horror on my face that told Lynette I was really asking about myself and Travis. Though the damage had already been done, she softened her answer and said, “Well, it doesn’t have to mean that, but it would probably be the first thing that comes to mind.”

  Surprisingly, the thought that Travis was fulfilling his needs elsewhere had not even crossed my mind. I had just assumed that he didn’t find me attractive or that I looked silly in the lace camisole. It was unfathomable that my brand-new husband would be cheating on me when we hadn’t even been married a month.

  “Well, I don’t think that Travis is cheating. Forget I asked.”

  “Just don’t let it happen more than once without asking questions.”

  I nodded quietly, wishing that I hadn’t even started the conversation. Lynette had a worried look on her face that mirrored what I was feeling on the inside.

  Since Travis was missing in action for the Christmas church services, I was relieved that he was going to be at my side for the New Year’s Eve service. Not that I had anything to prove, but I wanted people to see us together. It seemed like most of my friends and acquaintances were waiting for us to fail.

  We walked into the church, arm in arm—me wearing my new hair combs and Travis sporting his very expensive cuff links on one of his new suits. Lynette smiled reassuringly when she saw us, no doubt recalling our earlier conversation. But neither she nor I needed to worry, because the very night that I’d expressed my concerns to Lynette, Travis reaffirmed his desire and his attraction for me.

  Our New Year’s Eve services were festive occasions. There was always a lot of singing, a lot of dancing, and a lot of testifying. When I thought about what the Lord had done for me all year long, I started jumping and shouting, although my praise was usually low-key.

  “You betta praise him, Sis,” I heard someone say.

  When I finally calmed down Pastor Jenkins said, “Sister Charmayne, do you have a testimony that you want to share?”

  I noticed that Travis had disappeared from my side, but I testified anyway. “Yes, Pastor. I have been truly, truly blessed this year. I’ve been blessed in my finances, blessed with good health, and the Lord has seen fit to send me the husband of my dreams. But more than anything, I’ve felt my walk with God get stronger, and I know He’s going to continue to do great things in my life. Hallelujah! Hallelujah! Hallelujah!”

  The fervor of my testimony struck a fire in the congregation. Two sisters started shouting, and then Lynette joined in. Not missing a beat, the musicians started in with the shouting music, banging on the drums and organ like there was no tomorrow. I thought about the praise report I’d just given and I hugged myself.

  When the intense shouting died down for a moment, I made my way to the water fountain. My throat was parched, and I could feel the beads of sweat collected on my forehead and neck. As I walked up the aisle, someone patted me on my back and said, “It’s all right, baby.”

  I took a long, thirst-quenching gulp of water and stood in the vestibule fanning myself. I looked through the stained-glass windows of our main entrance. It was a beautiful and still night. We’d had some warm weather that had melted all of the November and December snow, and the streets were as dry as in the middle of June.

  I glanced up and down the street at the nightlife going on outside our worship center. I gasped when I saw my husband leaning into a car across the street. I squinted to make out the shadowy figure behind the wheel, but I just wasn’t close enough to see who it was. I couldn’t even tell if it was a man or a woman.

  Travis started back toward the church and I panicked. I didn’t want him to know that I’d seen him until I figured out what I was going to do and say. I dashed back into the sanctuary and slid into our pew just as Travis walked back through the double doors.

  I shuddered as he placed his arm around me. I wanted to knock his hand away and slap the smile off his face. I needed an explanation and I needed it sooner rather than later.

  I whispered to Travis, “Can I talk to you outside for a minute?”

  “Now? It’s the middle of service.”

  “Yes, now. It’s important.” I wanted to smack him upside his head.

  Travis and I got up and walked out into the vestibule. No one even noticed that we were up walking again, because the choir had started singing and had taken the praising and shouting up an extra notch.

  Travis asked impatiently, “What is it that couldn’t wait until we got home?”

  I couldn’t believe that he had the audacity to sound irritated. “Who were you just talking to outside?”

  He shook his head in disbelief. “You spying on me now?”

  “No, Travis. I happened to see something that I obviously wasn’t supposed to see.” I could hear my voice rising, although the church vestibule was no place to stage a scene with my husband.

  Travis grabbed me by the arm and led me outside. Although the night looked calm, it was bitter cold. I wished that I’d put on my coat. I yanked my arm away from him when his big hands started to hurt me.

  Travis spoke in an angry hiss. “Woman, why don’t you trust me?”

  I answered with a question of my own. “Why are you always surprising me?”

  It had just dawned on me that Travis was always shocking me in one way or another. His initial interest in me was shocking, and every aspect of our relationship had seemed to just come out of the clear blue sky. Travis quitting his job, revealing his felonies, proposing to me, introducing me to his ailing mother . . . all of these things had blindsided me. I had come to expect the unexpected from Travis.

  Travis scratched his head nervously. “That was my parole officer, Charmayne.”

  A sarcastic chuckle escaped from my lips. “Your parole officer? Surprise!”

  I shook my head and started to walk back toward the sanctuary. In my mind, I was making the conscious choice to ignore the surprises that wouldn’t destroy me.

  Travis took my hand. “I wanted to tell you, but when I first told you about my felonies, you left me. I didn’t want to lose you again.”

  “So you lie to me?”

  “I never lied to you about this.”

  “Omission is lying.”

  “I didn’t omit the fact that I just got out of prison. You could have assumed that I was still on parole.”

  I felt foolish. It was almost like I wanted it to be a woman in that car. Him having a parole officer wasn’t a bad thing, but I didn’t know how to get out of the conversation without making myself look like the insecure and jealous wife I had quickly become.

  Marriage was not what I’d expected. I thought that it would be about sharing my hopes and dreams with my soul mate, and that we’d always lean and depend on each other. The union between myself and Travis was none of these things. He accused me of not trusting him, but he didn’t trust me with even the most basic information.

  We stood in silence for what seemed like too long. Travis was clearly hurt, and I was at a loss for words.

  He broke the silence. “Why don’t you trust me?”

  “I do.”

  “No. You don’t. You’re constantly looking over your shoulder, waiting for me to drop some kind of bomb on you. It’s not going to happen, Charmayne.”

 
Travis opened his arms and embraced me. I felt the tears start to pour down my cheeks. Why couldn’t I allow myself to be happy and why was there still no peace in my spirit?

  “Travis,” I sobbed, “I’m really sorry.”

  “It’s all right. I know you didn’t mean it.”

  But I had meant it. So I stood there in Travis’s arms praying and wondering. Praying that my marriage would last, and wondering how in the world I’d ended up apologizing when Travis was the one keeping secrets.

  CHAPTER Twenty-four

  Present

  “First Lady will see you now,” said Sister Piper Willis, First Lady Jenkins’s new armor bearer.

  With me sitting down from my post and Ebony accepting more and more speaking engagements, First Lady needed a replacement. Piper and I had different takes on what it meant to be an armor bearer. I thought it meant being a prayer warrior, friend, protector, and confidante. Piper, on the other hand, preferred to be some ridiculous hybrid of secretary, security guard, and maidservant. She was even posted outside First Lady’s office door like a sentry. I could imagine her holding up one of First Lady’s hatboxes to ward off some imagined threat. I was sure that she was driving Ebony up the wall.

  First Lady was standing at the coffeepot making a fresh cup. “Would you like some coffee, Charmayne?”

  “No, thank you.”

  First Lady gingerly carried her hot cup back to the desk. “How is it working out with Evangelist King?”

  “Wonderfully. She’s a gifted counselor.”

  “She’s an anointed woman of God,” remarked First Lady Jenkins.

  I was getting a little nervous, because First Lady had called the meeting in the first place, but I had no idea why. We hadn’t talked much since I’d married Travis and resigned from being an armor bearer. The last conversation we’d had was when she’d recommended Dr. King.

  “Are you wondering why I called you in here?” asked First Lady.