Wrong Way Renee

by Wynter Daniels

  Melissa laughed, a nice sound Renee hadn’t heard in weeks. “It's pretty much a soap opera these days, isn't it? The lawyer is still searching for a baby and I've been doing some research on surrogates.”

  “Surrogates? There have been all these court cases where the surrogate claimed rights to the baby she carried.”

  Melissa shook her head. “Actually, most recently, the biological parents have all been awarded custody, not the surrogate.”

  “Oh. That's good.”

  Chantelle bounded in and set a large bag down next to her station. “You have got to see what a bargain I got,” she said to Melissa and Renee. She rifled around in the package and pulled out a denim jacket with beads, studs and sequins swirled all over it. “Isn't this gorgeous, girls?”

  It reminded Renee of pictures she’d seen of her mother’s clothes from the eighties. She exchanged a glance with Melissa. “It's… bright,”

  “Colorful.” Melissa winked at Renee.

  “I got it at the flea market yesterday. It was marked thirty-nine dollars and then they had a fifty percent off sticker on it. And I jewed the vendor down even more. I got it for fourteen bucks. Isn't that amazing? You don't think it's too chico-looking, do you?

  Renee cringed. “Would you excuse me a moment, Melissa?” She headed over to Chantelle, hooked her arm and dragged her into the kitchen. “Chantelle, you managed to insult two cultures in one statement. That's a record, even for you.”

  “What are you talking about. What did I say?”

  Antoine walked by and looked at Chantelle's new jacket. “Oh, Miss Thing, you must let me borrow that jacket. It's divine.”

  Chantelle scowled.

  Renee went on. “Jewed is not a word. It’s an insult. Becky is Jewish and so are many of our clients. Chico-looking is also insulting.”

  “I didn’t mean it like that.”

  “There’s no other way to mean it. It’s an insult.” With that, she returned to her station to do Melissa’s nails.

  After she’d finished, Susan came in carrying a large box, which she set on her station. Renee watched as she unpacked a cross on a stand. Then she peeled decals from a sheet of them and stuck them on her mirror. There was a drawing of Jesus carrying the cross, a Christian fish symbol and a head of Jesus with the caption ‘What Would Jesus Do?’ Next, she removed a foot-high freestanding crucifix and put it on the other side of her station then carried the empty box back out to her car.

  Becky exchanged a worried glance with Renee. “Now what?”

  She had a bad feeling in the pit of her stomach. “It’s going to be one of those days.”

  Zoey stopped sweeping her station and leaned the broom against her chair as Susan came back inside. “Don't you think you should hang up some garlic, Susan? Might as well cover all the bases.”

  Susan ignored her and sat in her service chair.

  Becky motioned for Renee to join her at Susan's station. “Susan, the three of us need to have a talk in the pedicure room.” Becky headed back there. Renee and Susan followed.

  “What's going on here, Susan?” Becky folded her arms.

  Susan stuck out her chin. “I don't know what you mean.”

  “Yes, you do. Let’s cut the bullshit. What's with all the crosses and stuff all of a sudden?”

  “I need to protect myself.”

  “From what?” Becky’s complexion was turning pink, never a good sign.

  “Evil influences.”

  “Such as?” Renee asked.

  Susan burst into tears. “That Zoey. She's a witch. She's sending pins and nails to stick in my skin.”

  Renee gasped. Becky buried her face in her hands.

  “Zoey is not a witch,” Renee said. “She's a sweet young woman.”

  Susan shook her head furiously. “She's a witch. Antoine too.”

  “Antoine is a witch? Wouldn't he be a warlock?” Renee asked Becky.

  “No, he'd definitely be a witch. But he's not a witch.” Becky said.

  Susan’s sobs grew louder.

  Becky grasped the woman's shoulders. “There are no witches here. I'm thinking that perhaps this isn't the right salon for you. Would you like me to help you pack your things?”

  Susan suddenly stopped crying. She took a backward step. “You two are with them, aren't you? And Chantelle, too.” She jerked the door open and ran from the room. After finding a box in the kitchenette, she started throwing all her supplies in it as fast as she could.

  Zoey and Antoine stopped working to watch her. It was like seeing something in fast motion. Susan ran outside with the box then returned with the one that had held all her crosses. She filled that one up as quickly and sprinted for the backdoor.

  Antoine shook his head. “Ladies, when you fire someone, you mean business.”

  Everyone in the shop laughed. Renee wondered if they’d be able to find a hairdresser to replace her. But instead of dwelling on doom and gloom, she tried to see the positive. They’d gotten rid of a nut before she caused a more serious problem.

  With any luck, her other issues would be as simple to fix. And with the small chance of a cancer diagnosis looming as well as the unpleasant task of breaking Cleave’s heart, she’d needed the comic relief.

  She left the shop at four that afternoon and headed to Cleave's house. Nibbling on a hangnail all the way over, she tried to quell her nervousness about the impending confrontation. How could she not have known it would turn out this way? She'd missed all the warning signs. Never again, she vowed.

  This was going to take a toll on Cleave, and that broke her heart. He'd been so good to her. But even if Joe had not reentered the picture, this was something that had to be done. After she and Cleave had slept together, she knew it. It was easier to hope things would get better, but she knew they wouldn't in her heart of hearts.

  She let herself in through the garage. Cleave's car wasn't there so she decided to wait inside for him. As soon as she went into the house, Duke bared his teeth and jumped on her, nearly knocking her over. “Down, boy,” she commanded.

  He sat in front of her.

  “Stupid dog, don't you know me yet?”

  He seemed to understand that he'd been insulted because he started making a low, growling sound.

  She stood perfectly still, never taking her eyes off him. The dog inched closer, snarling. Her heart raced. She used the shelves on the side of the cooking island as a ladder to climb onto the granite surface. She stood up, bumping her head on a rack of pots and pans.

  Brilliant idea, dumb ass.

  As if the stupid dog couldn’t reach her there.

  Duke circled the island again and again like a predator toying with his prey. After what seemed like an eternity, the garage door motor started.

  A minute later, Cleave came in, looked at her, then at the dog. “What's going on?”

  “He hates me. Can you take him out of here?”

  “He doesn't hate you, he loves you.”

  Could he possibly be that dense? “He's growling at me. If he likes me, it's because he wants a bite of fresh meat.”

  “Oh, Renee.” He shook his head.

  “Cleave, please take him out of here. I’ve been up here for like twenty minutes.”

  “Okay. Come on, Duke. Here, boy.” He led him through the family room and locked him in the pool area. He returned to the kitchen and laid his keys on the counter.

  Renee eased herself off the island, trying to be mindful of her now achy neck.

  “Want to tell me how you ended up standing on my island, impaling the pot rack?” He was grinning but she couldn’t find anything to smile about.

  “Can't we pretend you didn't see this and start over?”

  “Sure. What a nice surprise it is to see you. Have you made a decision?” He eliminated the space between them and set his hands on her waist.

  She disengaged herself from him and took a few steps back. Her throat was dry and she was trembling.

  Please let this go as well as pos
sible. Please, don't let him be devastated.

  “I have. Can we sit in the family room?”

  His face turned ashen. “If you have something bad to tell me, you can tell me right here.”

  Her heart beat wildly. “If you insist.” She drew a deep sigh. “Cleave, I think you're a wonderful man. You'll make the right woman a great husband. But…that woman isn't me.”

  She studied his face. Lines creased his forehead. She winced at the knowledge that she was hurting him. “I will pay you the money I owe you for the car. I'll have a check in the mail to you this week.”

  He started sobbing.

  Her heart broke for him. She didn't know what to do. She hadn't counted on tears. The more he cried, the more she felt tears stinging her own eyes. “Oh, God. I'm so sorry. I tried, I really did. The chemistry isn't there for me and…”

  “Just go.” He moved toward the door, opening it as he stared at the floor. “I don't want to hear any more.”

  He didn't have to tell her twice. She bolted from the room, ran out the garage and slid into her Jeep. Sadness, relief and regret fought for her heart. She laid her head on the steering wheel for a moment before pulling away. As she backed out of the driveway, she took a last look at the beautiful home that could have been hers. But what Joe gave her was worth a million beautiful homes.

  * * * * *

  “So what happens now? Now that I'm a free woman.” Renee wiped sauce from her fingers with a Wash and Dry Sunday night. The food at the pub where Joe took her was okay but she wouldn’t have cared if it was dog food. As long as she was with him, she was happy.

  He leaned back against the padded booth. “We can’t take up where we left off. I mean, how can I know you won't do this to me again?”

  Her mood clunked, but she couldn’t blame him for not trusting her. “I would never, ever do anything to hurt you. Ever again, that is. I never set out to do anything wrong in the first place. Things just got…out of control. But I've learned my lesson.”

  “But you can see that you did hurt me. You kept secrets and deceived me. It's going to take me some time to get over that. You know my history. Even if it weren't for that, anyone would feel betrayed.” He swiped a French fry through his barbecue sauce then ate it.

  Tears threatened but she willed them back. She was strong. “I love you. I promise you I'll never cheat on you.” Would she believe it if the tables were turned? She knew she'd have to prove herself to him.

  “I'm glad to hear that, but it'll take time to heal my wounds. You'll have to be patient.”

  She nodded, too choked up to speak. Although she understood his hesitancy, she wanted so much to jump back into a relationship and shout, “Full steam ahead.” She needed him as desperately as she needed air and water.

  When they returned to her apartment, she kissed him goodnight and he kept it chaste. Taking his hands, she met his stare and could tell he was struggling to hold back. “You can spend the night. If you want.” Her body hummed with sexual awareness, but she didn’t hold out hope of quenching the fire inside her.

  “I'll stay, but I'm not ready to make love to you, yet.” He sat on the couch and raked his fingers through his dark hair.

  Hope flared higher than it had been in ages. “Isn't it usually the woman who says no to the man?” she teased.

  “Most men, under normal circumstances. But you're not just any woman to me. You might be the woman. That makes it a whole different ball game.”

  His words soothed her like an oasis in the desert, bathing her in happiness. She knew he'd be able to forgive her, in time. But first, she had to come clean, all the way. “Joe?”

  “Yeah?”

  She wrung her hands. “I've got to tell you something.”

  His face registered alarm. “What is it?”

  “It's about Cleave. I…we…he and I…”

  He held up a hand. “Don't, Renee. I'd rather not hear the words. I understand.” He squeezed his eyes shut, his jaw stubbornly set.

  Relief swept through her. What had she done to deserve this wonderful man? Even after he knew all she'd done, he still loved her. They spent the night cuddled together, but true to his word, he didn’t make love to her. When they did, it was going to be spectacular.

  In the meanwhile, she had to walk the straight and narrow. And she needed to admit to her family that she was in love with a white man.

  * * * * *

  Wednesday morning, the phone woke Renee out of a sound sleep. Opening one eye, she looked at the clock. Seven-thirty.

  “This better be good,” she croaked into the handset.

  “Ms. Wright?” a woman's voice asked.

  “Yes. Who's this?”

  “This is Jackie, from Florida Hospital. Your MRI report is ready to pick up. When would you like to come get that?”

  She sat straight up, suddenly wide-awake. “I'll be there in an hour.” Her heart pounded. As soon as she hung up she took the world’s fastest shower, downed a few sips of coffee then raced out the door.

  Forty-five minutes later, she stood at the reception window at the MRI Department. “Renee Wright,” she said to the young woman manning the desk. “I was told my report was ready.”

  “Give me a minute to find it.” The woman faded into the sterile, white office.

  Renee took a deep breath as she glanced around the waiting room. A young mother handed her baby a bottle of juice. An elderly lady in a wheelchair thumbed through a magazine. A middle-aged man sat in the corner, gnawing on his fingernails. They all have a story, she realized. Just like her, they were probably waiting for a diagnosis that could potentially change their life. Tension hung heavy in the air.

  Would fate be so cruel to her to bring love into her life than hang a cancer diagnosis around her neck? She couldn’t think that way. But the waiting was killing her.

  “Here we are,” the woman behind the counter said. “Sign here.” She pointed to a line on the bottom of a yellow paper.

  She signed with a trembling hand they accepted an envelope from the woman. “Thanks.” She hurried from the room. Halfway down the hall, she found a bench and sat down to read her fate.

  Skimming through medical mumbo jumbo, she finally arrived at a line marked “Impression: No MRI Evidence of Malignancy.” She read then reread. She held back a torrent of emotions as she offered up a silent prayer of thanks. And she asked for the same positive results for everyone she’d seen waiting in the waiting room with her.

  Now she could get on with her life.

  * * * * *

  Two weeks later, Renee called her mother to ask if she could bring Joe to her father’s birthday celebration the next night. “I'd really like for you all to meet him.”

  “We're all still reeling from the news that you've broken Cleave's heart,” Elizabeth said.

  “Mama, Cleave was never my idea. I know everyone thought he'd be perfect for me so I could fit into the slot you want me in, but it doesn't always work that way.”

  “What in the world are you talking about? I never tried to put you into any slot, as you call it. Contrary to what you believe, we just want you to be happy.”

  Perhaps she was being too hard on her family. “I know you do, Mama. But Cleave wasn't the one. I think Joe is, and I'd really like you to meet him. So what do you say? Can I bring him?” She crossed her fingers, hoping for the right answer.

  “Fine. I'll see you both tomorrow.”

  Relief washed over her. “Thank you, Mama.” Everything was going to be okay. She hung up the phone and chewed at the corner of her mouth. She knew she had to prove to Joe that she wasn't ashamed of him. If their relationship was ever going to progress, she'd have to introduce him to her family. She called his cell to ask him if he'd come with her.

  “So, I finally get to meet the elusive Wrights?” he said.

  She was tense as a spring but she tried to sound casual. “They're looking forward to meeting you.”

  For a moment, he said nothing. “Okay. Want me to pick you u
p?”

  “Nope. I'll drive.” She couldn’t keep the smile off her face. She just hoped her family liked him, although she couldn’t imagine anyone not liking Joe. But whether her mama approved or not, he was the man for her. She knew it as sure as she knew her own name.

  * * * * *

  “You look so happy.” Renee set a cup of coffee in front of Melissa Tuesday morning at her nail station.

  “Our lawyer has located a baby. The mom is due in three weeks. It's a girl.” Her eyes sparkled, radiating her delight.

  “Oh, Melissa, that's wonderful. Where is she?” She felt like crying tears of joy for her friend.

  “Arizona. We'll fly out as soon as she's born. Of course, the mother could always change her mind at the last moment.” Her face cloud for a moment. “But I promised my husband I wouldn’t be a pessimist. I’m going to assume everything will work out.”

  “This is going to happen for you, I know it is.” She knew she should take Melissa’s husband’s advise in her life too. She had to believe her parents were going to embrace Joe with open arms. They had to. And that Joe would like them back.

  Melissa bit her lip. “It's got to. It's just got to happen.”

  A few hours later, Toy arrived for a manicure. Renee noticed her friend had a rosy glow that hadn't been there before.

  “Have you been in the sun?” Renee asked.

  “Nope. Never touch the stuff. God gave me all the color I need. Why do you ask?”

  “You're glowing Toy. Or flushed or something. What's up?”

  Toy cupped her cheek in her palm as she smiled wistfully. “I think I'm falling in love. Really in love this time.”

  Renee smiled. “Wesley's lawyer?”

  “Yeah, John. He looks at me and he seems to understand me completely. He's thoughtful and we click. It's never been like this before with any man. And I still haven't slept with him. Can you believe that? I'm sort of saving myself.” She rolled her eyes and smiled.

  “For marriage?” Renee raised her brow.

  “Not necessarily. For the absolute perfect time. I think both of us know how special the relationship is. We want it to be the right moment for us to make love for the first time. Have you ever had that with a guy?”