by La Jill Hunt
“Well, no...” Tricia started.
“We can if you’d like,” Everett turned and said. “I mean, we are already inside, and your food is ready. You can eat it now instead of taking it home.”
“I don’t know.” Tricia was caught off guard by his suggestion.
“I’m sorry. I mean, you probably have somewhere to be, and here I am, intruding and holding you up.”
Everett’s embarrassment was somewhat amusing, and Tricia found herself relaxing a bit. His awkwardness put her at ease, and she realized she wanted to stay and eat. Not only because she was starving and her stomach had been talking to her for the past hour, but also because she really didn’t have anywhere else to be or anything else to do. Her bed, numerous bottles of wine, and Lifetime movies weren’t going anywhere, and the only person she anticipated talking to the entire weekend was her mother.
“No, I don’t. It’s fine, we can eat here,” Tricia told him. She turned to the waitress and said, “Have the kitchen plate my food rather than box it up.”
“I’ll let them know you told me to do that,” Lyric said with her former fake smile.
“You two can follow me. Would you like a booth or a table?” the hostess interjected.
“A table is fine,” Tricia answered. As a size twenty-two, she knew better than to chance the embarrassment of not fitting comfortably into a booth.
The hostess led them to a table, and Everett waited for her to be seated before he sat across from her. He looked at Tricia and said, “You good?”
“Yes.” Tricia nodded.
“Great.”
Before the server came over to take their drink orders, Tricia’s food was delivered to the table. It took two people, Lyric and another waitress, to carry everything she ordered, which included spinach and artichoke dip, a chicken quesadilla, cheese sticks, a half rack of ribs, broccoli, and fries. As they placed the items in front of her, Tricia felt her face become hot. It hadn’t seemed like that much food when she placed her order online, but now she knew she must’ve looked pure gluttonous.
“Did you want your dessert now or later?” Lyric asked, causing her to be even more embarrassed than she already was.
“No, I think this’ll be all for now,” she said without even looking over at her.
“Wait,” Everett said, looking at Tricia. “You want to order a drink from the bar? I could use something a little stronger than a soda. What about you? Strawberry margarita?”
Tricia’s normal intensity level of anxiety had returned, and she really wanted to just get up and leave, but that would’ve been even more uncomfortable, so she forced herself to remain and said, “I could use a drink.”
“I’m actually not your server. I was just helping bring food out. But I’d be happy to put your order in with the bar and let them know,” Lyric said.
“That’d be great. Thanks for telling us that too. We certainly wouldn’t want to give the amazing tip I planned on leaving to the wrong person,” Everett told her. “Especially someone as unpleasant as you.”
The fake smile fading from Lyric’s face was just the thing Tricia needed to see. Had it been Titus across the table, he would’ve been apologizing for Tricia’s tone, eye rolls, et cetera. Very rarely had anyone ever taken up for her. It was kinda refreshing.
“I know this looks like a lot. I forgot I ordered food for dinner and lunch tomorrow,” Tricia said, coming up with an explanation she thought was believable so she wouldn’t look as greedy.
“Hey, you don’t have to explain. Believe me, I’m about to order just as much as you have. Heck, we’re probably gonna need a bigger table.” Everett laughed.
Tricia shook her head. “I know you’re just saying that to make me feel better. As slim as you are, I doubt that you eat a lot.”
“I love food. I just have a really high metabolism, I guess. Been like that my whole life. My mom says it’ll catch up with me when I get older, but I’m forty-one, and it hasn’t slowed down yet, so I think I’m good.”
“Wow, you look good as hell for forty-one. I thought you were way younger than that,” Tricia said before she could stop herself. She hadn’t meant to say the words aloud, but she damn sure thought them. She’d for sure figured he was in his early thirties, if that.
“Thanks, I think.” He laughed. “Go ahead and eat up before your food gets cold.”
Tricia cautiously picked up one of the chips and said. “I hope you don’t think I’m going to let you sit here and not eat some of this.”
“If you insist,” Everett said, reaching and helping himself to one of the mozzarella sticks.
By the time they’d finished eating, Tricia felt as if they were old friends. Everett was funny in a nerdy kind of way. He told her about growing up as an only child in the Midwest and how being labeled “gifted” when he was in junior high had been both a blessing and a curse. Tricia listened, then gave her own account of being the oldest of two “gifted” siblings, one academically and one athletically, and how she’d always felt like the “unspecial” child of the family.
“Come on, everyone is special.”
“Not me. But I’m fine with that,” she told him as she nursed the bottom of her margarita.
“Nope, I believe God has purposed each and every one of us to do something that no one else can do. We just have to figure out exactly what that thing is. Some people just figure it out sooner than others. For those who’ve discovered it, every day you wake up is another day to pursue it. For those who haven’t, it’s another opportunity to figure out what it is. Either way, you win,” Everett explained. “Everyone has a purpose. Every life has meaning. It’s why we were put on earth. Your sisters are unique in their own way, but so are you.”
Tricia sat and thought about what he said. She’d never considered that her life may actually have a meaning, or that she was purposed to do anything. “Well, I’m the only one of my mother’s daughters who is still married.”
“Well, I’m sure there’s a deeper plan for you than just that, but I definitely feel that being a wife and mother is purposeful. No doubt, that’s not easy. Balancing marriage, motherhood, and working. I commend you on that.” He held his glass up to toast. They both looked at her empty glass and laughed, and then he said, “You want another?”
“No, two was enough. I still have to drive home. But I do see your point,” Tricia told him. “Are you married?”
“No.” Everett shook his head. “I mean, I would love to meet the right woman and settle down, but it just hasn’t happened.”
“Well, I’m sure you will. You seem like a really nice guy,” Tricia told him. She was surprised to hear that he was single. Although he wasn’t overwhelmingly attractive and a bit of an oddball, he was decent looking, smart, and genuine.
“Thanks.” He said, “You still haven’t opened your bag.”
Tricia had all but forgotten about the gift bag in the chair beside her. She shifted the now-empty plates on the table to make room before sliding her chair back and putting it in her lap. She reached inside past the crumpled tissue paper, and the first thing her hand touched was a mug. She pulled it out and saw that it was navy blue with the same Burke University crest as the bag it was in.
“Aw, this is nice. Thank you so much,” Tricia told him.
“Keep digging.”
She reached back into the bag, this time taking out a mousepad. There was also a nice set of pens, a keychain, and other Burke items, all navy blue. “I love all of this, Everett. Thank you so much.”
“I’m glad. I mean, even though Tarik decided against my esteemed alma mater, I still wanted you to have some school swag as a token of appreciation.”
“See? Look at how thoughtful you are. I don’t know why you aren’t purposed to be somebody’s husband yet,” Tricia told him as she placed her items back in the bag. “I do have a question, though.”
“What’s that?” He leaned forward.
“Burke’s school colors are maroon and gold. All of this stu
ff is blue.”
“True, but we get stuff in all colors. Blue’s your favorite, so I went with it,” he said matter-of-factly.
Tricia peered at him, shocked by his response. “Wait, how did you know my favorite color was blue?”
“Isn’t it?” He frowned. “Wait, did I get it wrong?”
“No, but how did you know?”
“Well, your truck is dark blue, the first time we met you had on a blue dress and a blue coat, and your purse was blue. It was kinda obvious.” He shrugged.
Tricia looked over at her blue MK bag beside her, then thought back to the night Everett showed up at her house. She had been wearing a blue dress and her blue overcoat. I can’t believe he remembered that. That’s crazy.
It was after ten at night when they decided it was time to go. Everett insisted on paying for their meal, despite her already paying when she ordered online. He even went so far as to speak with the manager and get him to refund the check card she’d used. He walked her to her truck, still parked in the same space, and thanked her for her company.
Tricia was so glad that she’d stayed and joined him. She’d had a great time, so much so that she didn’t realize until she got home and took her phone out of her purse that she hadn’t taken her phone off silent when she left work. She’d missed three calls from Titus. Had someone seen her and called and told him? Her son had become quite the local celebrity, and maybe someone recognized her. Did he somehow sense that she was out with another man? Dinner with Everett was innocent. She tried not to panic as she called him back.
“What’s up?” She tried to sound unbothered and normal.
“Nothing,” Titus said. “What’s up with you?”
“What do you mean?” Tricia’s heart began pounding. He knows. “What are you talking about? You’re the one who called me three times like it was an emergency.”
“I called because your mother called me. I guess she tried to reach you and couldn’t.”
Tricia looked through her missed call log and saw that, in addition to the missed calls from Titus, she also missed five calls from her mother and several texts. “Shit, let me call her.”
“Okay, well, I was just making sure nothing happened.”
“Oh, you were concerned?” Tricia couldn’t resist asking.
“Of course I was concerned. Why wouldn’t I be?”
Her original thought was to remind him that he wasn’t in love with her, but instead, she told him, “It’s not like you’ve been acting very concerned for the past few days before you left.”
“Because you were still tripping off that therapy bullshit. I’m fine. You were the one walking around mad at the world.”
“I am mad, Titus. I can’t believe you said all of that,” Tricia snapped. “Do you know how hurtful that was?”
“Look, I wasn’t trying to hurt your feelings. I was just, I don’t know, venting, I guess. You know I didn’t want to be there in the first place. But I went because you acted like it was a big deal. Now it’s over. I’m sorry, a’ight?”
“Where’s Tank?” Tricia asked without accepting the apology she was glad he gave. She knew if she did, he would think he was off the hook, and she would lose her leverage. He wasn’t getting off that easy.
“He’s with some of his teammates. He should be back in the room in a little while. They have a curfew.”
“Okay, well, let me go call Mama before she sends the police over here,” Tricia told him. “I’ll call Tank in the morning and talk to him before his game to wish him luck.”
“Cool.”
“Titus?” Tricia called to stop him from hanging up.
“Yeah?”
“What’s my favorite color?”
“What?” The confusion in his tone was obvious.
“What’s my favorite color?”
There was a long pause, and then he finally said, “Yellow? Wait, green. Hell, I don’t know.”
Tricia shook her head. “Good night, Titus.”
Chapter 26
Sylvia
“You like this one, Mom?”
Sylvia looked at the price tag of the dress Peyton was holding. “This is over your budget, ma’am.”
“I told you,” Jordan said with a shrug.
“Yes, it’s a little pricy, but I think I should try it on just to see how the style looks on me,” Peyton said. “Please?”
“If you want to try on a dress that you can’t afford, feel free. But there’s no way I’m paying that much money for a dress you’re only gonna wear one time, and then buy another one,” Sylvia told her.
“I know. I just wanna see how it looks, that’s all.” Peyton grinned, then took off toward the dressing room with Jordan by her side.
Shopping with her daughter for prom was something Sylvia had been looking forward to for years. It never occurred to her that it would be such a daunting task, and the fact that they were looking for two dresses made it even more so. For hours, they’d trekked in one store after the other on their quest to find the perfect gowns. But as exhausting as the experience was, it was also enjoyable. Probably due to the fact that Aunt Connie, Janelle, and Lynne tagged along. It had turned into a total girls’ day full of laughable moments and interesting conversations, including an ongoing one about Lynne and her situation with her ex-husband, Hampton, who’d recently asked her out on a date.
“I say go for it. You said it yourself that he’s gotten his gambling addiction and spending habits under control. Wasn’t that the reason for your divorce, or was there something else?” Janelle asked as she skimmed through the rack of taffeta gowns while they waited for Peyton, who’d gone into the dressing room to try on yet another possible choice, assisted by Jordan.
“No, there wasn’t anything else. Until his gambling got out of control, we were pretty happy. Well, at least I was happy,” Lynne said.
“Obviously, he was happy too. If he hadn’t been, he wouldn’t be trying to get you back,” Sylvia pointed out.
“Who said that’s what he’s trying to do? He says he wants to have dinner and talk,” Lynne told them.
“Talk as in discussion or talk in some other kind of way?” Aunt Connie asked, causing Lynne to blush.
Sylvia quickly looked around to make sure Peyton, Jordan, and anyone else wasn’t nearby. “Aunt Connie, can you please?”
“Please, what? I’m just trying to ask some clarifying questions. The same questions she needs to be asking before she starts daydreaming about being reunited with his ass and planning a wedding,” Aunt Connie told them.
“I don’t think that’s what she’s doing, Aunt Connie.” Janelle snickered. “Jeez, that’s a stretch.”
“The way she was looking at the bridal gowns hanging in the front when we walked in,” Aunt Connie said, “I could see you making wedding plans in your head, child.”
From the look on Lynne’s face, her aunt was right.
“That doesn’t mean I was thinking about remarrying Hampton, Aunt Connie. I can marry someone else,” Lynne said.
“But you ain’t thinking about talking to no one else, are you?” Aunt Connie gave her a knowing smile.
“Aunt Connie,” Sylvia hissed again.
“Hey, I’m all for talking if that’s what she wanna do. Just make sure you clarify with him if the conversation is going to be a simple chat between two old friends, or a long conversation that y’all both plan to continue for a little while. Just make sure you’re speaking the same language. Leads to less confusion and no heartbreak. Let me tell you what a dear friend of mine used to say: ‘All the things that we been through, you should understand me like I understand you.’”
“Aunt Connie, that was a line from a Harold Melvin & the Blue Notes song,” Janelle told her.
Aunt Connie winked and said, “Who do you think was my dear old friend I was talking about?”
Sylvia, Janelle, and Lynne all laughed so loud that other people in the store looked at them.
“Well, let me ask you a question, Aunt
Connie.” Sylvia couldn’t resist taking advantage of the moment.
“Ask away, niece,” Aunt Connie said.
“What kind of talking are you doing with Deacon Barnett?”
Aunt Connie grasped at her neck at the set of invisible pearls that weren’t there. “Excuse me?”
“Come on now, Aunt Connie, we all know about your little secret rendezvous you’ve been sneaking off to when you walk Gypsy,” Janelle added.
“First of all, I am a grown woman, and I don’t have to sneak nowhere. And yes, I do go out at night to walk the dog before I go to bed,” Aunt Connie snapped. “It ain’t my fault that that fool keeps driving by at the same time and insists that he give me and Gypsy a ride home. Hell, if someone did try to do something to me, Gypsy would probably be more helpful than his slow ass anyway.”
“Awwww, that’s so sweet. I like him,” Janelle said.
“Me too!” Sylvia nodded.
“I ain’t ask you if y’all liked him, did I?” Aunt Connie rolled her eyes and walked away.
“Ohhhhhh, I think she likes him too,” Janelle whispered.
“She does,” Sylvia told her. “He picks her up almost every night in his Caddy while she’s walking the dog. He brings her home, and they park across the street from the house, and they sit in the car for a little while. It’s adorable.”
“She’s right, though, Lynne. You need to figure out what you and Hamp got going on before it gets too complicated,” Janelle said. “I mean, before you get used to him blowing your back out on the regular.”
“Jeez, Janelle, you’re about as bad as Aunt Connie,” Sylvia said to her sister.
“I’m just saying, see where his head is at and make sure whatever it is, is what you want. Don’t compromise,” Janelle said.
“They both want the same thing: each other. Hampton has been trying to get her back for years. And now she’s finally willing to give him a chance, end of discussion.” Sylvia went back to searching through the dresses.
“I’m just open to hearing what he’s gotta say, but I gotta admit, getting my back blown out on the regular would be nice, too.” Lynne sighed and smiled as if she remembered something.