by La Jill Hunt
“You act like I had something to do with this.”
“Well, it says that you and she decided that. You are her husband, right? Or does she have another one we don’t know about?” Janelle asked.
“Yo, I ain’t decide shit. Hell, I’m the one who’s been listening to my son make all these damn prom plans that’s gonna stretch my pockets. Do you know how much I gotta shell out for two custom tuxedo jackets he wants? I definitely ain’t say he couldn’t go. I wouldn’t do that to those kids, Nellie, you know that. Don’t even worry about it. Tell Syl to ignore it.” Titus sounded just as angry and confused as she’d been when she saw the text. “She’s just tripping right now, has been for the past couple of days, really. I’m sorry she—”
“Listen, Titus, my family is dealing with enough bullshit right now and don’t need any more. I don’t know what the fuck you and your wife have going on or what kind of games y’all—”
“Hold the fuck up, Janelle. Don’t say ‘y’all’ or include me in this, because I told you I ain’t have nothing to do with it,” Titus snapped.
“Well, I’m just going by what the text says. Instead of going to her about this bullshit, I’m coming to you as a courtesy. The same way you say I know you, you know me very well, and one thing I don’t play about is my family, especially my niece. Now if you can’t get to the bottom of why she felt the need to send this bullshit-ass, cryptic shit, and I need to personally check her ass, I have no problem doing it, because the same way she rolled up on my sister’s house, I’ll roll up on her.” Janelle’s voice was just as intense as the stare she gave him. In all the years they’d dealt with one another, she’d never threatened him about his wife. Then again, until now, she’d never had a reason to.
“Damn it, Nellie, I said ignore it, and I apologized,” Titus barked.
Janelle’s head snapped back. Not only was this the first time they’d had a heated argument, but this was also the first time he’d raised his voice at her. She’d never seen him so angry, and she hadn’t intended to upset him. But hearing that the text her sister received was some kind of sick joke had pissed her off. “Titus, just fix it. And whatever it is she’s tripping about, as you said, keep my family out of it, and more importantly, these kids.”
“I will,” he promised. The two sat in silence for a while until finally, he asked, “We good, Nellie?”
Janelle took a deep sigh, then said, “Yes, Titus, we’re good.”
“You wanna go in and hit the treadmill for a few? I’m thinking we both need to release some tension. Unless, of course, you wanna do something else.” He raised an eyebrow at her.
“Get out of my car, Titus.” She reached past him and opened his door.
“Damn, it’s like that? Can I at least get a hug?”
“Fine,” she told him, opening her own door and stepping out of the car. He walked around, and she hugged him. He tried to kiss her, but she pushed him away. “See, this is why.”
“Okay, okay. I forgot you’re seeing someone. How’s that going?”
“It’s going great.” Janelle gave him a suspicious look.
He pouted and said, “Can’t say I’m glad to hear that, but I’m happy for you.”
“Thanks, Titus.”
“Guess I’ll see you at prom night?”
“Maybe.” She turned to get back into her car, and he popped her on her behind. She shook her head at him, and he laughed as she pulled out of the parking lot.
When she got home, she sent her sister a text, letting her know that Titus said to ignore the message and prom was a go.
Thank you, Nellie, Sylvia texted back.
Nellie. Janelle grinned. Syl calling her by her nickname was a sure sign that things were moving in the right direction. Hopefully, all would be well.
Chapter 22
Tricia
The inside of Dr. Adam Guyser’s office was small and tight with bare walls, a small sofa, a desk, and a filing cabinet. Tricia sat on one end of the sofa, and her husband sat on the other. Neither one said anything as they waited for Dr. Guyser, who happened to be the first name to pop up when she Googled “family therapist.” When she called for an appointment, the receptionist told her that the next available appointment was in two weeks, but Tricia told the woman that it was an emergency situation that needed to be handled immediately, per the physician who had treated her days before. The receptionist put her on hold, then came back with an appointment time for the following evening. As she’d expected, getting Titus to agree to therapy wasn’t hard. She’d been a little worried when he didn’t immediately respond to the screenshot of the message she’d sent to Sylvia. But later that night, he’d come home pissed and angrier than she’d ever seen him before.
“What the fuck is wrong with you?” he screamed so loudly when he walked into the bedroom that Tricia sat up.
“What? Why the hell are you screaming?” she gasped.
“I’m screaming because you sent that bullshit-ass message to Peyton’s mom saying Tank isn’t going to prom. And you had the nerve to act like I agreed to that bullshit. What the fuck is wrong with you, Tricia?” He glared at her. Beads of sweat were on his temples and forehead, and he looked like a madman.
“It’s not bullshit, Titus.” Tricia’s voice was calm and serene. She knew that if she reacted by yelling, her plan wouldn’t work. “You told me to select another punishment, and I did. Furthermore, I wouldn’t have had to send the message had I known anything about his going to prom in the first place. Her mother was standing there, telling me all about these elaborate plans. I sent that message as a favor so the poor girl would have plenty of time to find another date.”
“Why the fuck wouldn’t he go to prom, Tricia? It’s his senior year, and he has a girlfriend.” Titus shook his head in disbelief. “You stay on some damn bullshit, I swear. I don’t know what the hell is wrong with you these days.”
Tricia swung her legs from under the comforter and sat on the side of the bed, facing him. “Maybe we should go to therapy and find out what’s wrong with me.”
Titus inhaled so deeply that the entire top of his body leaned back. “Therapy? You pulled this bullshit stunt because of some fucking therapy? Are you fuckin’ crazy?”
“Dad, what’s wrong?” Tank rushed into the bedroom, looking panicked. Tricia was sure he’d never seen his father so upset. He’d certainly never heard them argue like they were now.
“Everything’s fine, Tank. Your father and I were just trying to figure out how to tell you that you’re not going to prom, that’s all.”
“What? Why?” Tank said, his face in shock.
“Because you were supposed to be punished for not coming home, remember? I agreed that you could prepare for and attend your All-American Game and would pick another punishment later. That was the agreement, correct?” She looked from her son over to Titus, who was breathing so hard that his chest was rising and falling.
“But prom, Mom? That’s not fair.” Tank shook his head.
“Tank, leave the room,” Titus told him.
“But what about prom?” Tank asked. “Can I go?”
Tricia looked over at Titus and said, “Your father will let you know. Close the door behind you.”
Tank sulked as he walked out, puling the door behind him. When he was gone, Titus looked over at her. “You’ve pulled some bullshit moves before, Tricia. But this... this one right here is borderline evil.”
“How is wanting to seek help for me and my family evil, Titus? You need therapy just as much as I do. Have you thought about that?” she asked. “You can’t even answer a simple-ass question. You want me to agree to Tank going to prom? Then you need to agree to go to this.”
Titus closed his eyes for a second, then said, “Fine, I’ll go. I got some things I need to get off my chest anyway. But I’m not making my son go.”
“I can accept that. I’ll make the appointment,” she said, climbing back under the covers.
Titus didn’t sleep in the be
d that night, and he hadn’t since. He also hadn’t spoken to her outside of a simple “okay” response when she sent him the date, time, and address for the appointment. Tricia hated that he was angry at her, but had he just cooperated when she asked him the first time, none of this would have happened. It was his fault.
“Mr. and Mrs. King, I’m Dr. Guyser. Nice to meet you.” The doctor finally entered and shook their hands. Short, balding, dressed in a pair of khakis, button-down shirt, and sensible shoes, he looked like he’d just finished a round of golf before arriving. In his hand were a file folder and a pair of glasses that he slipped on after sitting at the desk.
“Nice to meet you, Doctor.” She nodded while Titus remained silent.
“So, what brings you two in today? I see noted here that there’s some sort of crisis you all are dealing with. What’s going on?” he said, looking at the folder.
Again, Titus said nothing. He just stared at the floor in front of him.
“Well, um, we, uh, are having communication issues,” Tricia stammered, then cleared her throat. “As you can see.”
The doctor looked over at Titus and said, “Do you agree, Mr. King?”
Titus’s demeanor remained casual as he shrugged and shook his head. She cut her eyes at him and shifted uncomfortably. One thing about Titus, he was a people person and was always friendly. Folks enjoyed being around him, no matter who they were: neighbors, coworkers, coaches, players, other parents. When she was with him and they were around others, he did all the talking. That’s what he was: a talker. Now he was sitting there acting like he was a mute.
“Okay, you’ve been married seventeen years. That’s quite some time,” Dr. Guyser stated. “Tell me about the beginning of your relationship. How about you start, Mrs. King?”
“Oh, well, we met when I was eighteen and got married when I was nineteen, right after our son was born. Titus was in the military, and I was a stay-at-home mom for a while. We have a beautiful home, and our son is headed to college. He plays basketball, and he’s also smart. He was actually being recruited by Burke University,” Sylvia said.
“Okay, you both were kind of young. Was he your first love?” Dr. Guyser asked.
“I believe so.” She nodded. “Yes, we were each other’s first loves.”
“Mr. King?”
“She was a virgin, and I was her first,” Titus mumbled.
Tricia shifted slightly and looked away. Titus always believed he’d been her first, mainly because that’s what she’d told him when they first met. But he wasn’t. Hell, he wasn’t her first or her second. He wasn’t even her third. Truth be told, had Tarik been born a month earlier, she and Titus probably would’ve never seen each other again because Tank would have a different father.
“And despite the current communication issue, has your marriage been successful?” Dr. Guyser asked.
“Yes.” Tricia nodded. “I can honestly say we really haven’t had any major issues. Until a few days ago, that is.”
“And what happened a few days ago?” Dr. Guyser asked.
“Ask him.” She looked over at Titus, hoping to get him to talk.
“Mr. King? Would you consider your marriage to be good until a few days ago?” Dr. Guyser looked at Titus.
“Whatever she said.” Titus sighed.
“See?” Tricia emphasized with her hand. Titus was being an ass, and this wasn’t going the way she expected. Her frustration was increasing by the minute, and their session was only an hour long.
“Mr. King, I’m going to need for you to contribute just a little more in order for me to help you and your wife,” Dr. Guyser said.
Titus didn’t say anything at first. Then he sat up and said, “Fine. For the past seventeen years, I’ve done everything a husband is supposed to. I was at junior college when she had our son and had just signed the paperwork for my engineering internship I was supposed to work that summer. But my mom calls me and tells me her mom called and she’s in labor, so I go in time to see my son being born. It was love at first sight. I promised her that she didn’t have to worry about raising him alone. She tells me unless I plan on marrying her, I’d better get used to some other man raising my son because she had no intention of being a single mom. I dropped out of school and married her. I’ve always gone above and beyond for my son because his mom checked out on being what I consider a suitable parent from jump. I gave her a pass in the beginning because she was young and inexperienced, and for the first few years, I was deployed. But when I saw that he needed me, I changed career paths and chose one that would allow me to be a more hands-on parent, which I am. Ask anyone we know. There isn’t a better father out here than I am.
“For the most part, we stay out of her way because she bitches and complains about everything. We go on vacation, she complains about crowds, the weather, the noise, everything. She hates being around other people, and she’s mean. Which is why she has no friends. Everyone we know, including my family and friends, handles her with kid gloves and walks on eggshells around her. Hell, nobody ever comes to our house to visit because they don’t want to be around her. She works when she wants to, not because she has to. Whatever she wants, she gets, and when she doesn’t get it, watch out because she’s going to make sure you’re punished. I do the cooking, the cleaning, the grocery shopping, and laundry, so she doesn’t have to do that either. Our once-a-month sex life, if that’s what you want to call it, is built around a damn calendar that she creates. I don’t even try to ask for ass anymore because, most of the time, I’m just tired of her saying no and the excuses she gives. She’s manipulative, miserable and controlling.
“But she’s my wife, and despite all of her bullshit, I still have love for her because not only is she the mother of my son, I’m really the only one she has in her life, other than her mother. I’ve never once left, and the word ‘divorce’ has never come out of my mouth. And after all these years, everything I’ve sacrificed and all that I’ve done and continue to do for her to show how much I care, turns out it’s still not good enough. Last week, she started tripping more than ever. You wanna know why I’m here, Doc? I’m here because if I didn’t agree to coming today, my son wouldn’t be able to go to prom. And I would do anything for my son. Is that enough of a contribution?”
Tricia slowly drew in air, suddenly feeling constricted and hot. Her leg began shaking nervously, and she wasn’t sure what she felt more: anger or embarrassment.
“Are you okay, Mrs. King?” Dr. Guyser asked softly as he wrote in the folder. Not only had Titus given him plenty to note, but he’d also given her plenty to process.
She blinked several times and said, “Yeah, I’m good. Obviously, my husband and I should’ve come in to see you a long time ago. Our marital issues are bigger than we thought.”
“Correction, your issues are bigger than you thought. I don’t have any issues with my marriage. I do everything expected of me and then some.” Titus cut his eyes at her.
“Not everything,” she snapped. “You can’t even answer the damn question, Titus. That’s why we’re here in the first place.”
“You still don’t get it.”
“Get what?” Dr. Guyser sat forward, clearly engaged by the conversation the couple was not having.
“That this bullshit is a waste of time that I’m not participating in, and it’s not going to get her what she wants this time,” Titus said as he stood up.
“Now, Mr. King, that’s not an accurate statement. Marriage counseling can be very beneficial to both parties,” Dr. Guyser volunteered.
“Let me ask you a question, Doc,” Titus said.
“Ask away.”
“Can any amount of therapy make someone fall in love with someone? Someone they’ve known for years and never been in love with?” Titus asked.
Dr. Guyser sat back in his chair and seemed to be deep in thought before answering. “Well, there are a lot of benefits to therapy in regards to emotions, but—”
“You’re not answeri
ng the question,” Titus told him.
“No, it can’t,” he relented.
“Thank you. What my wife fails to realize it that marriage is a contract between two people who agree to live their lives together. That’s all it is. People fall in and out of love every day, and as a result, they leave their marriage. The thing that makes them stay is their commitment to their responsibilities, not because they’re ‘in love.’ Now I have a basketball practice to get to. Dr. Guyser, thank you for your time.” Titus shook his hand and walked out of the office.
Tricia picked up her purse and said, “Well, I guess our time is up. I’m sure my husband won’t be back again. This was very eye-opening for me, though. Thank you.”
“Same time next week then?” Dr. Guyser asked.
“What? He’s not going to come back here. You heard him.” She shook her head.
“I did hear him. That’s his decision. But it doesn’t have to be yours, Mrs. King. I’m actually more concerned about you and your reaction to what he said than I am about your husband.”
“What do you mean?” Tricia was confused. Her entire reason for being here was to prove a point to Titus. She didn’t and wasn’t going to.
“Mrs. King, can you tell me the last time you were happy?” he asked. “Truly, undoubtedly happy?”
Tricia frowned. She tried to think of an answer and mentally went through her life: childhood, teen years, marriage, motherhood. Birthdays, holidays, anniversaries, big moments, little moments, she tried and tried to think. Her eyes met Dr. Guyser’s, and she whispered, “I can’t.”
Chapter 23
Sylvia
“Maaaaaaaa!” Peyton’s voice sounding like a fire engine caused Sylvia to cringe in the bathroom mirror that she was staring into as she applied her mascara. Her fingers were already trembling with nervousness, and her daughter’s distress call, which she was sure wasn’t even necessary, wasn’t making things any better.
“Peyton, what have I told you about screaming for me?” Sylvia yelled back to her.