“Aruba, I miss you and Jeremiah. I just wanted you to know I found a job. Not sure where I’m going yet, but I promise I’ll work and make good on it this time. I’m about to lose my mind without you and Jeremiah. I love you, baby. Please come home to me. I know we can work this out.”
[21]
Star Gazer
“I love you, baby. Please come home to me. I know we can work this out.” After reluctantly checking her voicemails, Aruba placed her BlackBerry in its case, repulsed by the sound of James’s voice. His desperation was enough reason to get on with the business of divorcing him. Hearing his voice didn’t garner the emotions she’d felt in years past. This, her first day back at work, would be the start of something new. She was enthused about training Lasheera, seeing Winston later that night at the Conrad, and browsing the web for a new apartment. Aruba didn’t allow people in her personal business, so she couldn’t risk Jeremiah seeing Winston and blabbing to James. Not yet anyway. She’d shared with Bria the night of the assault, pleading with her to watch Jeremiah until she felt the coast was clear. Bria never imagined James being so cruel, although she’d had her suspicions over the years about him as a husband and a father. Bria’s husband respected and loved her, so she felt the least she could do for a friend in need was provide childcare, secrecy, and a shoulder to cry on. She cloaked for Aruba the three days she was absent, picked up Jeremiah from Angels in Halos, and assured her that things would be okay.
Aruba had Lasheera sit in conference room A to study the first set of training materials Bria prepared. Bria had been a godsend. Aruba made a mental note to do something special for her once the drama died down and her new life with Winston began.
“Aruba, line one,” said Doris.
“Thanks, Doris.”
Aruba picked up the phone with a smile on her face. Winston had called her every hour on the hour to inquire about her well-being. He’d sent more roses to the hotel room, visited each night, ran her bath, massaged and oiled her body, made her feel like a queen. His upfront admission that he couldn’t make love to her raised the stakes and strengthened her resolve to get closer. He’d reasoned he was wrong and didn’t want to further complicate the situation with intimacy. The emotional affair they were having was new territory for him. He’d fallen under her sway with her grace and charm as weapons; he feared what making love to her would do.
“Hi, beautiful. Were you ready to go back to work today or was that your attempt to stay away from me?”
“Both. I need to get back to business as usual. I told you I have a new employee to train.”
“I’ve been thinking about you all day, Aruba.”
“It’s just nine in the morning.”
“You’re on my mind twenty-four/seven. What do I need to do to convince you of that?”
“Speaking of convincing, what did you tell Victoria about your absence the last four days?”
“Sadly, if it isn’t about shopping or something that concerns her, she doesn’t care. After my page, I told her I had to fly out to Phoenix to examine a patient who may need open heart surgery. She didn’t bat an eyelash.”
Time spent with Winston had been everything Aruba desired. He was thoughtful, loving, and attended to her needs in a way she couldn’t have imagined. As she and Winston spooned at the Conrad, listening to Victoria on speakerphone that second night, Aruba thought it odd that Victoria asked for a fur coat, a pair of Jimmy Choos, and reservations for the Arizona Biltmore Resort and Spa. She never told Winston she loved him, nor did she ask about his well-being. Aruba held him tighter then because she realized Victoria was handing him over on a silver platter.
“That speakerphone conversation blew my mind. Please let me say something as a friend. You’re a wonderful man and a great father. Someone I’d treat like a king if I had the opportunity.”
Winston ignored the ego stroke because it felt too good to hear from someone other than his wife. “I’m on my way to the hospital. Do you need me to do anything for you today?”
“Just dinner later tonight. We can eat in the room.”
“I miss you, Aruba.”
“Same here.”
Aruba hung up the phone, then headed to the conference room for Lasheera.
“Psst,” said Bria, sticking her head out of her office.
“What now, girl?”
“Going to get your groupie?”
Aruba stepped into Bria’s office and closed the door. “What are you talking about? Why are you so caustic?”
“I don’t know. I guess I’m a little jealous, since no one worships me.”
“Maybe I shouldn’t get sick anymore, since your imagination runs wild while I’m away.”
“Make fun of me all you like, but you made quite an impression on Lasheera. She called several times while you were away. She asked whether she really had the job, about the dress code, if she’d be working directly with you. Sounds like she wants to make a good impression on you.”
“Don’t make fun of her. I think I’d be nervous reentering the workforce after a long time.”
“What happened?”
“You know I can’t divulge her personal business.”
“You take confidentiality to extreme measures! Come on, Aruba, why has she been out of work so long?”
“How would you feel if I let it slip to folks around the office you’re a nurse afraid of blood?”
“Ouch! Point well taken. I have to give it to you, you can keep a secret. What will you take to your grave?”
“Wouldn’t you like to know? I’ll see your nosy butt for lunch.”
“If you don’t eat with Lasheera.”
“Jealousy doesn’t suit you, Bria.”
Aruba exited Bria’s office. She headed to the conference room and attempted to stop the smile creeping across her face. She liked the fact Winston wanted to honor his vows, but she also wanted to make love to him. How much longer would the lie about him being out of town hold up, anyway? She had ignored Victoria’s calls the past few days. After Victoria’s last message about being concerned where she was since she wasn’t home, she’d sent a quick text message and told her she was working late since auditors were in town. Aruba knew Victoria would back off, since she was allergic to work. She would do lunch with Victoria to impede any suspicion. Victoria and Nicolette would miss their good thing soon enough. Now wasn’t the time for any slipups. Aruba stepped into the conference room as Lasheera perused training materials.
“I hope you’re not overwhelmed by all the information. If it’s any consolation, it took me several months to catch on.”
“I’m up for the challenge, Mrs. Dixon.”
“Lasheera, we’re gonna be working closely together. Please call me ‘Aruba.’ ”
“May I call you Mrs. D. until I get more comfortable?”
“Sure, if that’s better for you.”
Lasheera shifted in her seat, flipped through more pages in the binder. Earlier, Bria had given her a Post-it pad for notes, and she made sure to insert the neon squares where she needed most help or felt confused. The materials overwhelmed her; how on earth would she ever learn all she needed to be successful at the job?
“Are you nervous?” asked Aruba.
“A little. It’s been a while since I worked.”
“You’ll get the hang of everything in no time. You’ll be working with me today. The materials are for you to take home and study. Today’s training will be showing you how to do my scheduling.”
“What will I be scheduling?”
“My travel dates. I handle the Indianapolis territory, Columbus, and Bloomington.”
“Bloomington? My girlfriend Jamilah attends IU. I’m proud of her.”
“I bet you two are thick as thieves.”
“No. It’s more like the Three Musketeers. I have another girlfriend, Tawatha. We’ve known each other since grade school.”
“I’d love to meet the two of them sometime.”
“I’ve known the two of them
since we were young. I can’t imagine my life without their love and support. You know what it’s like to have good friends, Ms. D.?”
“I do. There’s nothing like someone having your back.”
Lasheera smiled and wondered if Aruba’s friends were as sophisticated and kind as she. Lasheera answered the phones, learned the scheduling ropes, got to meet a few other people in the office, and wondered how soon it would be before Jamilah and Tawatha met her cool new boss.
[22]
Sista Spa Night
Bria and Renae made a pact to get Aruba out of her funk with a good old-fashioned Sista Spa Night at Bria’s house. Aruba’s funks were frustrating because she denied anything was going on in her life. When a crisis occurred in her life, Aruba got busy working in the office or bringing in juicy dishes from home. She’d pretend she found a great recipe to share with everyone, but Bria knew something had gone wrong at the Dixon household. She also knew Aruba wouldn’t spill the goods because her mother, Darnella, admonished both of them when they were children about sharing marital business. Ms. Darnella’s perceived paranoia about sharing personal business gained credibility after it was discovered her good friend, Sheila Mills, secretly spilled a few revelations to Mr. Lance when Ms. Darnella went on a church flea market trip. Aruba’s father didn’t speak to Ms. Darnella for two days and would have continued his silence if Ms. Sheila hadn’t gone in for the kill. After Sheila said she would make the better wife, Mr. Lance realized Sheila was up to her old high school tricks. Ms. Darnella called Aruba and Bria in from playing one day, forbade them from visiting Ms. Sheila, and pointed her fingers in both their faces with these stern words: “I don’t care how bad things get in your marriages when you grow up. If your life isn’t in danger, and if you and your husband can make it to someone prayerful and tactful, only go to that individual. People begrudge you the smallest things. Before you know it, a little secret shared can be hurled back in your face and cause your relationship a world of hurt.” The girls clutched their jump ropes, not sure they’d ever get married and upset they’d been interrupted for grown folks’ business. Bria brushed the words off; Aruba allowed them to sink in. Bria watched as Aruba hid dates, relationships, and juicy tidbits about her whereabouts over the years.
After Aruba married and relocated to the Midwest, Bria hoped she could be trusted, that Aruba would confide in her. Darnella’s words proved stronger than Bria’s trust. Bria caught the slight scratches that appeared on Aruba’s forehead. Scratches Aruba swore Jeremiah placed there. She watched the frantic check-balancing routine Aruba mastered during lunch breaks and the anger she displayed when whipping out a red pen to denote the balance status. Aruba couldn’t hide the heated conversations with James that flowed out when Bria walked past the office door from time to time. The saddest memory Bria had witnessed was the double-date night at Peterson’s. Sidney wanted to pay for everyone’s meal, but James insisted he’d pay. It was a pricey dinner, and Sidney didn’t mind since James was unemployed. Bria almost burrowed a hole in Sidney’s knee when she saw Aruba slide her credit card to James under the table. Bria was done when James placed the card in the meal-ticket holder, signed her name, and put the receipt in his wallet. How could she convince her friend that she was worth so much more without sounding intrusive? Or worse, a hater. Spa night would be the start of tearing down Darnella’s words. She loved Aruba like a sister and wanted her to know she was there for her for more than just babysitting Jeremiah.
“Baby, how long you want me out of the house?”
“Sid, I thought you were going to hang out with Joshua and Marcus.”
“We’re going to Jillian’s, Nicky Blaine’s, then I’m going to check on my mom.”
“Have fun and drink a sour apple martini for me.”
“Baby, it’s good to know you still care about me and my whereabouts.”
“I love you, Sidney Allen Hines, and don’t you forget it.”
Bria planted a kiss above Sidney’s left eye, their signal that all was well in their world. She loved the language they’d created over the years that was exclusive to their marriage. She’d seen wonderful marriages and relationships in her life and she wanted to continue the goodness. She was hesitant to share their love language for fear someone would say she was boasting. She didn’t like it when couples who were doing well looked down on those who were struggling. That’s why she wanted Aruba to know she was more concerned than she’d ever been about the state of her marriage.
“So, you ready for the big talk with Aruba?”
“I don’t know, Sidney. She won’t admit anything about the situation with James. I can’t bring myself to tell her I saw the fax come across our machine in the office from Attorney April Morris. She’s one of the most visible divorce attorneys in Indy and is a fighter for women getting the most they can get in a settlement.”
“How many years they been married?”
“Ten. Eleven in March.”
“That’s a lot of time to throw away. You sure spa night is appropriate for this kind of talk?”
“I thought of a different approach.”
“Why are you looking at me? Why do I feel like a lamb being led to the slaughter?”
“Baby, our pact is we never discuss personal things in our marriage without each other’s permission, right?”
“I don’t like where this is going.” Sidney gave Bria a devilish grin and encouraged her to proceed with a light nod of his head.
“If I pounce on Aruba, she’ll shut down and I’ll never get anything out of her. I’ll play the hypothetical game like we did when we were younger.”
“You mean I have a friend who . . .” said Sidney.
“Exactly. The biggest struggle we’ve had thus far in our marriage was the rehab incident. It was mild compared to what I hear other couples go through, but it was touch and go with the drinking.”
“Job stress got the best of me. I’m glad we went through counseling to help us through that time. I’m sorry for what I put you through.”
“I’m not fishing for apologies. I need your permission to share the story tonight. It would pain me if you shared something intimate about me without my knowledge, so I just wanted to double-check.”
“I don’t mind. I’m glad you asked me first. I’m blessed to have you as a wife and I try to show you what you mean to me as much as I can.”
“You do. I appreciate you more than you know. I just hope we continue growing together. I can’t imagine my life without you.”
“So did your man get enough food?”
“Yes. You hooked us up! The station volunteers will be here soon. I hope the girls will enjoy the treatments I planned. Cutcha Right was gracious enough to let us have five of their students tonight. Their services will go toward their credits. Lisa Cosby of Heavenly Make-up by Lisa will offer makeovers and facials, and Sharron B. of Fingerprintz II will be here just in case someone wants twists done.”
“Who’s coming to spa night?”
“Aruba, Renae, Joycelyn, and Lasheera.”
“Lasheera?”
“She’s the office newbie. I thought it would be good to have her mingle with us. She thinks the world of Aruba and I didn’t want to leave her out.”
“I can’t believe you guys pulled Renae out the house on a Friday night.”
“It’s for Aruba, so Greer gave her a pass for the night.”
“Wait, is Lasheera pretty?” asked Sidney.
“Yes.”
“Is she skinny?”
“Yep. I’m sure Joycelyn will be on the war path. If you weren’t good friends with Dre, she wouldn’t be invited to any functions at this house.” Bria shook her head at Joycelyn’s insecurity.
They embraced and kissed. Bria waved to Sidney and watched him leave the house. She would think of an extra special gesture to thank him for supporting the night’s efforts.
Two hours later, the girls laughed, sipped champagne, and enjoyed the beginning stages of their pedicures. The pamperi
ng overwhelmed Lasheera who felt out of place among Bria, Aruba and their married friends. She tried not to stare at Bria’s belongings, but she couldn’t help wondering how it felt to have a husband. Lasheera knew Bria and her husband didn’t have children. Why does a childless couple need such a large home? Lasheera wondered if she’d ever meet anyone special. As Renae and Joycelyn compared vacations, talked about their spouses, and made plans for the coming weeks to do something as couples, Lasheera sank lower in her seat as her feet were massaged with a pumice stone. The only thing she could contribute to the night was revisionist single mother stories. No way would this sista circle know about how much she’d been through. She sipped champagne, bit into a Godiva chocolate-covered strawberry, and blinked back tears forming from feelings of deep-seated inadequacy.
“Honey, Dre is the last man on earth who enjoys heavy cooking. He still hasn’t gotten the nerve to tell his mother to stop sending those cooking tips. She said I’m starving him and he needs some meat on his bones,” said Joycelyn, as she grabbed a strawberry from the fruit tray.
Lasheera’s forehead creased. I know that baby voice didn’t come from that big woman.
Bria forgot to warn Lasheera about Joycelyn’s high-pitched voice and regretted the faux pas when Lasheera placed her hands over her ears. She gave Lasheera a sympathetic nod and held back the laughter inside.
“Greer’s mother gave up on me a long time ago,” said Renae. “I can do take-out like nobody’s business and that’s all there is to it. Now, Ms. Aruba Crocker over there needs to take some tips from us and stop slaving in the kitchen like she owns a restaurant.”
“I like cooking for my family. What’s wrong with that?” asked Aruba, shifting her toes in the sea salt and eucalyptus foot soak.
“Nothing at all if you want to forgo having fun and games, if you know what I mean,” said Joycelyn.
“Ladies, we have a new, single woman with us tonight. Let’s not run her off with our crazy tales,” said Bria.
“Oh, you’re not married?” asked Joycelyn. She looked at Lasheera as if she had three heads with Buddha tattoos.
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