Tiffany had almost given up, again. She’d changed her wedding color scheme about six different times. She’d selected the cake, the dress, and the menu. But, there was still one thing missing…the groom.
Keith had gone on his business trip as planned. The only problem was that the trip was more than three months ago. Tiffany knew that his position as Marketing Director of Shwartz & Heard Consulting Firm was demanding, but she had become suspicious of the amount of time he was spending out of town. Sure, he’d called once or twice, he’d answered half of her calls, and he’d even flown in once for an overnight meeting. But, that still wasn’t enough. It seemed Tiffany and Keith were on different schedules and clearly, different pages.
Tiffany had had enough of the non-existent communication and was about to call off the wedding she was planning until that morning when Keith’s sister, Traci, had called inviting her to her and Keith’s parent’s house for Thanksgiving. With everything that had been going on, the holidays had crept up. Knowing that everyone would be disappointed if she declined the invitation, and seeing as though she’d always gone to their holiday dinners, Tiffany accepted and volunteered to bring a few bottles of wine. Secretly, she was excited because she knew Keith would be there.
Tiffany couldn’t wait any longer. She was hungry. She knew that the only reason they hadn’t prayed and started eating yet was because Keith was still M.I.A., but the smell of turkey, dressing, and sweet potato pie was calling her name. Keith’s dad was waking up from his nap while the women in the family were arranging the last few casserole dishes on the table. Tiffany had volunteered to help, but Keith’s mom insisted that she watch the children. And that’s where she was, rocking Keith’s three-month-old nephew to sleep when the doorbell rang and she stopped singing the lullaby.
Tiffany jumped up and startled the baby. She eased his little body into the blue pack’n play, reached into her pocket and swiped some red lip gloss on her lips. “Please get the door, Tiff,” Keith’s mother yelled.
Tiffany headed toward the front door. “Yes, ma’am.”
Her heart raced ahead of her to unlock the door. She was ready to greet her man.
“I’ve missed you K…”
Tiffany couldn’t finish her sentence. No one and nothing could’ve prepared her for what she saw. She couldn’t move. Who was this couple standing there? It couldn’t be Keith, her Keith? And why was this lady, this heifer smiling, and holding this Keith look-a-like’s hand? And why was she wearing a diamond ring?
“Keith, who is this woman?”
Tiffany knew she should’ve said more. She had every right to scream, curse, or slap him and the smile off that woman’s face. But everything within her told her to give up because she’d finally lost her man. She just wanted to know the name of her winning opponent.
Keith didn’t even acknowledge Tiffany’s question. He slid right past her, hand in hand with the lady who was following him submissively.
Did she just brush up against me? Tiffany asked rhetorically. And did she just look back at me and smile?
Tiffany saw bright flashing lights. She was about to snap and become another crime of passion statistic. Her hands went up and her fists were about to connect with someone. Luckily for Keith and that lady, the entire physical confrontation was all in Tiffany’s imagination and in reality, she was doing nothing more than still standing in the doorway and crying.
Keith’s dad walked around the huddle of people in the middle of the living room hugging the new couple. He wrapped his arms around Tiffany, and with no words, he led her to the kitchen.
Tiffany didn’t know how many more times she could push the same green beans around her plate. She’d mixed them with potato salad and cranberry sauce until the concoction had become a disgusting color. She couldn’t eat. She knew she should’ve left a long time ago, but she was too weak to drive. Besides, she was a little tipsy. While everyone was meeting Keith’s fiancée, who closely resembled his “just a colleague” friend, Tiffany had slipped into the restroom with one of the half-finished bottles of wine she’d brought. That was the only way she could keep her calm without causing a scene.
Tiffany pushed her plate back and let out a long embarrassing burp. “Congratulations, Keith!” And with that, she got up from the table and slowly drove home.
Tiffany knew she had to be dreaming. But why was everything so vivid and vibrant? And why were they so beautiful together? She’d logged on to her favorite social media website using the fictitious name she’d created a couple of years ago, KillingEmSoftlyJohnson. She had stalked his and her page fifty times in the past two days hoping to see something different other than the two of them plastered on the internet. There they were sitting in front of some fancy water fountain smiling. It’s not the picture that bothered her as much as it was the caption: Surprise! We’re Engaged! Keith had never been one to publicize his relationship, especially not on any social media site, so why now? What was so special about this woman? How long had they dated?
Lord, forgive me, but I wish that water fountain could just rise up and cover them like the Red Sea did to the Egyptians. Tiffany’s thoughts made her laugh.
“Shoot. No, no, no!” Tiffany was so caught up in the sight of them drowning that she’d accidentally sent Lynn, Keith’s soon-to-be wife, a friend request. Luckily she was able to cancel it.
Tiffany checked a few messages, and paused when she saw one from Keith’s sister. She could only imagine what Traci had to say. Maybe she was going to apologize for inviting her to the Thanksgiving dinner, or maybe she was going to apologize for her brother.
Tiffany opened the message.
I guess it had to come to that for you to realize that you deserve more. I am sorry that I can’t feel sorry for you. The signs were always there, but you continued to give my brother so much of you, and never left any for yourself. You had to have seen it coming. He’s a jerk. Girl, just move on and heal. You can’t be anyone’s best anything until you give your best to yourself. Sometimes you have to lose to win.
Those words sliced right through Tiffany’s heart and hopes. Traci was right. She had to move on and get her life back and that’s what she did.
Tiffany had no clue it would take that long to pull herself out of mourning. She’d gone through every phase: denial, acceptance, shock, hurt, the burial and even purging. It had been several hard months, but after joining a support group she’d found, and donating every gift Keith had ever given her, she was recovering from the breakup.
The hardest thing for her to get past was that for years she’d placed all her faith in marrying Keith and because that wasn’t going to happen, she questioned her own faith. She had always relied on the scripture that said that God will give the desires of one’s heart. Tiffany struggled with that until one day during her prayers, her revelation came. She had jumped up from her knees and dug out a journal she’d written in years ago. She searched for the page “Godly Characteristics of a Mate.” After all the hurt and time, Tiffany could finally see that Keith didn’t fit any of those traits and she’d only held on in hopes that he’d change. But, Keith was never meant to love her, and he couldn’t even if he’d tried, because he was not the true desire of her heart.
It was a chilly Sunday. Tiffany had wanted to stay snuggled in bed and attend church that evening, but she’d decided to go to the morning service. She hadn’t been in a while, and today, she was going back. Besides, there was something she had to do.
When she walked into the church, she saw Keith and she knew he saw her, but Keith deliberately didn’t make eye contact. His fiancée was sitting next to him, in Tiffany’s old seat. Tiffany stared, and noticed that Keith looked different. Or was it just that her view of him had changed? She’d accepted that she had loved him with everything in her. She’d already forgiven herself for letting Keith misuse her.
The young usher handed her a stack of white envelopes to pass down the pew. Tiffany took one, passed the others, bowed her head, and wrote quickly on
the blue card. As the basket passed by her, Tiffany slipped the card back into the envelope, sealed it, and placed it on top of the others. She noticed Keith peeking in her direction, and just as quietly as she’d entered the sanctuary, Tiffany got up and walked toward the exit.
“Goodbye, Keith,” she whispered.
The touch of a masculine hand on her back stopped her. “Ma’am, you forgot to fill out the outside of your envelope.” The usher had followed her to the door. “We need your name so the pastor knows who he’s praying for.”
Tiffany took a deep breath, pulled out her ink pen, and finally after six years she said what her heart wouldn’t let her say. With newfound hope she signed the outside of the envelope: Keith’s Best Ex Ever.
Meredith E. Greenwood, author of the fiction novel Faith, Grace, and Hope: Three Women, Three Letters, Three Trials…One God, is also a motivational speaker, playwright, and encourager. Meredith uses her creativity to motivate, uplift and inspire. Visit her at www.MEgreenwood.com, follow her Facebook page: Meredith E. Greenwood, and connect with her on Twitter and Instagram: MEgreenwood1.
Shame
By Penelope Christian
“Ms. Brooks, your pregnancy test was negative.”
“I know.”
“Did you know you weren’t pregnant when you arrived?”
Maven didn’t respond, and Nurse Know-It-All looked down at her with disgust. Her beady eyes peeked over her long beak nose and taunted Maven. Wasn’t it time for a shift change? Maven didn’t remember the woman’s real name, and didn’t care. She had endured her obnoxious mumblings, and snooty stares all day, and she was tired.
Scribbling in a frenzy on Maven’s chart, the nurse sighed. “How is your head?”
“Fine. I’d like to get some sleep now,” Maven replied in a curt tone.
That was code for get out, and Maven hoped she’d gotten the message. Running her tongue slowly around in her mouth, Maven felt lumps of flesh and tasted rusty iron. Pulling herself up in a sitting position, her shoulder pinched. Sucking in a sharp breath, Maven squeezed her eyes shut until the pain subsided.
The slow drone of the beeping monitors cocooning her bed signaled she was alive. Despite her puffy eyes and bruised body, she was grateful. For the most part. The night before she’d been wheeled in screaming, clutching her stomach, declaring her fake pregnancy in panic. Her performance in the E.R. was her attempt to hold on to the last thing that kept Maven human in her once family’s eyes.
But Nurse Cock-a-doodle snatched Maven’s last play away with a tube of her blood, and a condescending attitude.
Maven sank back down under the covers and closed her eyes. She wanted the woman to go without another peep, and after the nurse shifted her feet once more she was gone. Reaching up her hand to her head, Maven felt a dread missing at the nape of her neck. Examining her bandaged hand, she saw her usual flawless sable skin was ashy and bruised. Maven’s door creaked open again. Gingerly turning her back to the door, she blew out a breath. She thought she’d made herself clear.
“Did your mind, self-respect, and fake baby all disappear in one night?”
Maven’s eyes popped open to a camera flash. Her breath hitched. “Sofia?”
“Yeah, it’s me and Kent’s not here to save you now.”
Sofia’s words pierced Maven deeper than any wound she endured at the shelter the previous night. She hadn’t heard from Kent. Where was he?
Turning toward the door, Maven closed her eyes on another flash. Sofia Peterson, her best friend of seventeen years, stood in front of her snarling behind a retro polaroid camera. She was also dressed as a teenage boy. Her onyx mid-back curls were stuffed under an old baseball cap, and her body hidden in holey jeans and a worn out t-shirt.
Maven blinked back spots. “How d-”
“Haven’t you learned by now I have ways to get to everything? Although, you surprised me. I didn’t see you for a snake.”
Maven swallowed hard. “Sofi, let me ex-”
Sofia threw a hand up and stepped forward.
Shrinking back, Maven’s eyes darted around the room. “Whe-Where is your security?”
Pitching her body forward on her toes, Sofia scowled. “I’m asking the questions. Why?”
Maven’s heart thumped in her ears, and she kneaded the sheets between her hands.
“Why Maven?” Sofia snorted. “I suppose I should feel sympathy for you being attacked last night?”
Sofia’s scathing tone, brought fresh tears to Maven’s eyes. She said nothing.
Sofia crossed her arms over her chest, reeling herself in. “I haven’t got all day, Maven. Is that even your real name? As you pointed out, I don’t have my security and any minute they will find me. Why? Just tell me why!”
One Day earlier….
“White or Red?”
Maven tossed her minced onions into a mixing bowl, and glanced over at Sofia. “White…Riesling, of course. Where is your sea salt?”
Sofia rummaged through her kitchen drawers for her wine opener, and slid a bottle of salt down the counter. “Riesling is too sweet. I’ll open a bottle for you, but I’m having red.”
Maven jumped as her phone vibrated on the counter, but she didn’t answer it. She threw a dash of salt in the bowl, and shook her head at Sofia. “Since when? Back in college you drank whatever we had.”
Popping the cork on the Riesling, Sofia poured Maven a glass. “You mean whatever was at the dorm parties.”
They both laughed.
Hitting the silent button on her phone, Maven flipped the phone over to conceal the screen. “Yeah, until we turned twenty-one and could get into the real clubs. Are your bougie neighbors up for homemade food? I’m sure they expected this to be catered.”
Sofia chuckled. “We don’t have catered events every weekend. At least not on this coast.”
Taking her wine from Sofia, Maven clinked her glass against hers. “With all these movie stars, and singers in your neighborhood, I’m not sure if Jazzy’s request for sweet potato fries and burgers will go over well here on the East Coast.”
Maven winked, and peeked out the kitchen window to the backyard. Her fiancé, Kent had his niece, Jazzy, under one arm and was chasing after her brother, Justin. Maven’s face split into a grin thinking of their future children.
“Our L.A. neighbors might have opted for veggie burgers…is baby brother out there annoying my children again?”
Maven laughed. “You know Kent is the only one who will play with them for hours without a water break.”
Sofia leaned over the sink, and yelled out the window. “Jazzy and J, you’re supposed to be decorating with Uncle Kent. Party starts in thirty minutes!”
Maven’s phone lit up, and she dropped it in her purse on the kitchen table.
“Who are you hiding from?” Sofia asked.
Maven’s stomach dropped, and she darted her eyes around the kitchen. “No one, girl. It’s just…job alerts.”
Sofia set her glass down, and wrapped her arms around Maven’s shoulders. “So you decided to start working again? What’s up with Kent’s side business? Why won’t he let me help?”
Maven shrugged. “Sofia, you know how Kent feels about asking for help from you.”
Sofia folded her arms. “No, I don’t actually.”
Maven shifted her weight, and leaned over the counter, sighing. “He doesn’t want everyone to think his Oscar-winning-movie-star-actress-sister takes care of him. He said he can barely get work done at the office because the guys are always cracking on him about you.”
Rolling her eyes, Sofia snorted. “Men, and their hang-ups. You tell him I said that, too.”
Maven faced the window again to hide her expression. She agreed with Sofia, and that caused many exhausting arguments with Kent in the past. Fixing her face into a smile, Maven faced her best friend. “We’re okay now. His I.T. business looks to be taking off soon, and we just closed on the house.”
Sofia swept Maven into a hug. “Mav! That’s s
o exciting! Why am I just now hearing about this?” She paused, staring off into the distance. “If the pictures…”
Maven rubbed Sofia’s arm. “Don’t go there. It’s okay. You’ll be back in Cali before I start decorating. Got any new projects coming up I don’t know about yet?”
Usually mentioning a new project would bring Sofia back, but her eyes remained clouded and distant. Jacob, Sofia’s husband, walked into the kitchen, and Maven froze.
“Baby, where do you want the playhouse?”
Maven had been awkward around Jacob since he and Sofia married. He was fine. Tuscan-brown skin, warm brown eyes, and a head full of straight coal black hair. He was the kind of sexy that never went out of style and he knew it. Maven thought he could use a few more inches in height though, and a stern talk on his wandering eye, but neither reason was why they didn’t get along.
Every time Maven was around Jacob she felt him watching her. And when she would catch his eye, she could feel him staring right through to her soul. He didn’t trust her, so interactions with him were always stressful.
Jacob came up behind Sofia, and kissed her neck. “The playhouse, Mami. Where do you want it? Jazzy wants everyone to see what we’ve been working on.” Peering at Maven, he spoke to Sofia. “How’s it going in here?”
Sofia zoned in, and wrapped her arms around Jacob’s neck. “Baby, we need to be back in California before school starts, Mav and Kent bought a house I can’t see yet, and why did we let those people run us out of our home? I’m Sofia Pet-”
Maven looked away as Jacob cupped his wife’s face in his hands.
“Shhh, baby calm down. Everything will be okay. I told you I would handle it, right?”
“But I’m tired of looking for those…criminals. I just want to get back to my life,” Sofia exclaimed.
The Ex Chronicles Page 7