The Other Side

by Trice Hickman

  “I don’t need your commentary about my flat behind, I just need you to tell me which store you recommend.”

  “Go to Mint Julep. It’s on your side of town and they have quality pieces that keep up with the current trend. You gonna pay a lil’ grip, but you’ll come out lookin’ like a million bucks and Coop won’t be able to take his eyes off you.”

  “Thanks, Arizona. I just finished getting dressed from my jog and I’m going to head there now. By the way, are you okay? You were so distraught last night. I know you have a tough decision to make.”

  “I’ve already made up my mind. I can’t do it, Bernadette. I’m calling off the wedding.”

  Bernadette let a long pause rest in the air before she spoke. “I want you to be one hundred percent sure before you do that, Arizona.”

  “Oh, I’m sure,” she’d said with half confidence.

  “I’ll just say this. I obviously don’t know him very well, but from what you’ve told me and from what I’ve observed on my own, Chris is a good man who loves you, and that’s like finding a proverbial needle in a haystack.”

  Arizona felt it was Bernadette’s subtle way of telling her, without really telling her, not to let a good man get away. Arizona could tell that just like everyone else, Bernadette liked Chris because he was a nice, likable guy. She also knew it was rare to find a person who got along with your people and you got along with his, and she’d found that in Chris. He was originally from New York but had moved to Atlanta, Georgia, to attend Morehouse College after transferring from North Carolina Central University in Durham, NC, which had made him fall in love with the South and convince many of his family members to relocate there. From the moment she’d met them, it had been a mutual love fest. His parents loved her and she adored them. Their extended families and friends all approved of their relationship and were supportive, which Arizona knew would be a plus for their relationship.

  Breaking off their engagement and ending things with Chris would affect a lot of people in Arizona’s and Chris’s world, but most important, she knew that she was better off with him being in her life than without. And right there, sitting on the couch, Arizona decided she wasn’t going to do what she’d told Bernadette earlier today. Instead, she was going to walk in faith and marry Chris.

  “I’m going to trust in you,” Arizona said.

  “Baby, I’m going to work hard so you won’t regret becoming Mrs. Pendleton.” Chris rose from the couch. “I’m going to open that bottle of wine I bought you last week. I think we both need and deserve a drink.”

  Arizona watched Chris as he walked into her kitchen, then suddenly, her entire mood changed. She couldn’t explain why, but as she looked at her handsome fiancé, she got a sinking feeling that she’d just agreed to walk off a cliff that had nothing but rugged dirt and rocks below.

  Chapter 19

  BERNADETTE

  When Coop rang her doorbell at exactly five o’clock on the dot, Bernadette’s heart raced with excitement and appreciation. She was excited because this was the first time a man had come to her house to pick her up for a date in over five years, and she felt appreciative that Coop was a man of his word who respected the importance of showing up when he said he would.

  She’d debated what to wear for the better part of the day. After her blowout with Tess that morning, Bernadette had gone for a run because she felt the cold air would help her clear her mind as well as come up with the right outfit for her date with Coop. He was a stylish man and she could tell that he spared no expense when it came to quality, but he also had a flair that danced on the edge of daring. She wanted to wear something that said she was sophisticated but also knew how to turn up the sexy. But unfortunately, almost everything in her closet screamed board meeting meets after-hours business mixer.

  She’d wanted to ask Tess for her recommendation, but she’d known they each needed time to cool off, plus Tess needed uninterrupted time to finish writing her book, so she’d called Arizona to get her advice. Four hours and a few hundred dollars later, Bernadette stood in the middle of her closet, admiring herself in a backless black jumpsuit. The sheer, thin chiffon-like fabric of her sleeves highlighted her sculpted arms, and the stretchy Lycra material of the jumpsuit hugged her body, emphasizing her flat stomach and svelte physique, and the darting at the back gave her the illusion of an hourglass silhouette, complete with a bump of her derriere. She accessorized her outfit with bling chandelier style earrings and a bling cuff bracelet.

  Bernadette had also agonized over how to apply her makeup so that it would enhance her features. Arizona had switched their call to FaceTime so she could give Bernadette a real-life tutorial.

  “Coop likes you for who you are,” Arizona had said. “He’s not shallow like a lot of men out here, and I’m willin’ to bet he won’t be thinking about whether your face is contoured or if you’ve created the perfect smoky eyes. The man just wants to get to know you.”

  Arizona’s words had given Bernadette a little comfort, and when she’d opened the door and greeted Coop, he’d smiled wide and told her that she looked beautiful.

  Now, they were riding in Coop’s black Escalade, listening to the sounds of Earth, Wind & Fire, softly floating through his truck’s speakers as they drove down Bernadette’s street, heading out of her neighborhood.

  “How do you like living here?” Coop asked.

  “I guess it’s okay. As I said the other day, I work so much that I haven’t really gotten out to see much of the town.”

  “No, I mean how do you like living in the Palisades, and in your neighborhood?”

  “My answer’s pretty much the same.”

  Coop nodded and glanced at her. “I admire you, Bernadette.”

  “Why?”

  He winked. “I’ll tell you later. Right now I want to know if you want to eat dinner first or go to a movie?”

  “I’m kind of hungry, so dinner and then a movie, if that’s okay with you?”

  “Sure. What do you have a taste for?”

  “I know it sounds very generic, but I’ve been craving spaghetti all week.”

  “It’s my favorite dish.”

  Bernadette’s forehead wrinkled. “Two nights ago you told me that fried chicken, collard greens, and mac and cheese was your favorite.”

  “It is, right after spaghetti.”

  Bernadette laughed. “Okay, so Italian it is.”

  “I’mma take you to a place I think you’ll really like.”

  In less than ten minutes Coop navigated his truck into the parking lot of a small building that was nestled inside the same shopping center as the Mint Julep boutique where Bernadette had found her outfit. She hadn’t noticed it earlier today, but now that it was dark and the bright lights were illuminating the shopping center, it looked similar to the shops lining Mazza Gallerie, back in her beloved Washington, DC. With its luxury stores and a mix of retail and residential properties—much like her neighborhood—it was the type of area that catered to a specific clientele.

  Coop opened the door for Bernadette and walked in behind her as she took in the upbeat ambience of the space. Music by Italian crooners thumped through the speakers while the smell of buttered garlic bread filled the room. After Coop put his name on the list they walked over to the crowded bar area to pass time during their thirty-minute wait. “Do you eat here often?” Bernadette asked, practically yelling over the crowd of noisy patrons.

  “Nope. This is only my second time.”

  “The food is good?”

  Coop nodded. “Yeah, it’s pretty good.”

  “Then why have you only eaten here one other time?”

  “It’s not my cup of tea. Don’t get me wrong, the food is top notch, it’s just not my kinda scene, ya know?” he said as his eyes scanned the crowd.

  “Then why are we here?”

  There were so many people standing, practically squished on top of each other that Bernadette felt uncomfortable. She also noticed that the crowd seemed stuffy and h
ighbrow, not at all an environment she pictured Coop to be in. Between the thirty-minute wait, which she knew was going to be torturous in her three-and-a-half-inch stilettos, and the noisy, overpopulated room, Bernadette was slowly losing steam.

  As if reading her mind, Coop said, “Let’s get outta here. I’m gonna take you to my stompin’ grounds.”

  Twenty minutes later, Bernadette and Coop entered Ramone’s, a quiet little restaurant that sat at the border of the Bottoms community. With its soft music, low lights, and sparsely patronized interior, Bernadette felt it was just right for their evening.

  After they were seated and their server had taken their drink order, a glass of Merlot for Bernadette and sweet iced tea for Coop, they settled into their seats in the cozy booth and perused their menus.

  “Is the food good here?” Bernadette asked.

  Coop nodded. “It’s the best Italian restaurant in the county. The food is always good and the service is quick. When you taste the garlic bread you might end up wishing you could leave with the chef instead of me.”

  Coop’s statement made Bernadette curious. “From what you’ve shown me, you’re a man who’s very direct and you have a purpose and reason for everything you do,” she said as Coop nodded in agreement. “So why did you take me to the other restaurant?”

  Coop chuckled. “Honestly, I wanted to impress you.”

  Bernadette blushed. “Oh . . .”

  “This is our first real date and I wanted to take you some place that I thought was more in line with you and your style.”

  “That place was crowded, noisy, and probably way overpriced,” Bernadette said as she glanced down at her menu. “And the clientele reminded me of the buttoned-up folks I see from nine to five in corporate meetings every day. Do you really think that’s who I am?”

  Just then their server returned with their drinks. Bernadette studied Coop’s face as he nodded his thanks to the server and moved his sweet tea to the opposite side of where the woman had placed it. She could see that his expression was intense, and now she was slightly apprehensive about hearing his answer to her question.

  “I owe you an apology, Bernadette. You’re a sophisticated woman with great style and taste, and I wanted to take you to a restaurant that I thought matched who you are. But I forgot to take into account that you’re more than just window dressing, like the folks you pegged in that restaurant. You have substance behind your style, and a genuine heart to match your taste.”

  Bernadette was so flattered that all she could do was smile. Men in her past had showered her with kind words that had made her feel good for the moment but had left her feeling empty over time. But when Coop delivered his compliments, the tone in his voice and the genuine look in his eyes let her know that what he’d said was straight from his heart. He was sincere. “Thank you, Coop.”

  “No, thank you for accepting my apology. I should’ve known better.”

  “It’s okay, really.”

  “No, it’s not. I’ve communicated with you more over the last week than I have with any woman in a few years. And when I say communicate, I mean really talk and listen. When we talked Tuesday night you mentioned in passing that you liked Italian food, so right then and there I knew where I wanted to take you for dinner. But Thursday night when we were talking about voter rights, and you said that politicians in this state are tryin’ to roll back progress, I knew you had passion and respect for humanity, and a person like that wouldn’t be interested in hobnobbin’ where I took you. I wanted to impress you, but you’re the one who impressed me.”

  At that moment their server came to take their order. Bernadette gladly selected the spaghetti that she’d been craving and Coop ordered the Italian pot roast. After the server left, they resumed their intense conversation.

  “Remember when I told you that I admire you?” Coop asked.

  Bernadette nodded. “Yes. You winked instead of telling me why.”

  “When I drove into your neighborhood and down your street, I thought to myself, she’s probably the only black person on her whole block.”

  Bernadette nodded affirmatively. “Yes, I am.”

  “But that didn’t stop you from buying that big, beautiful house. You moved from the comfort of everyone you knew to a small Southern town where you don’t know a soul and you bought one of the best properties in town. You run a hospital where most of the employees who look like you are pushing a broom. But I heard that one of the first things you did was analyze the pay scale of all the employees so that those very folks who look like you got a raise, and now employee morale is through the roof.”

  “How did you know that?” Bernadette asked in amazement.

  Coop smiled.

  “Oh, I forgot, you know everyone and everything that goes on in this town.”

  Coop laughed. “You’re a class act, Ms. Bernadette Gibson.”

  Bernadette had never blushed so much in her life. Coop was not only staggeringly handsome, he was charismatic, and as she was beginning to see, genuinely sincere and humble.

  Once their food came out and Bernadette took a bite of her spaghetti and garlic bread, she knew that Coop was telling the truth and that this was probably the best Italian restaurant in the county because it was the best she’d ever had, period. She knew she was going to have to up the intensity of her workouts because food in the South tasted better than anywhere she’d ever eaten, and at this rate if she wasn’t careful she’d be a dress size bigger by spring.

  For the next three hours they ate, drank, laughed, and capped off their dinner with the most delicious tiramisu that Bernadette had ever tasted. But the delight of the food didn’t compare to the high she felt being in Coop’s presence. He paid attention to her and remembered the tiniest of details, as he’d proven earlier when he’d recounted the conversations they’d had throughout the week. No man had ever shown that much concern for her. Coop wanted to know how her day had been, if she’d eaten a proper meal, if she was getting enough sleep at night, and if she was happy.

  She also found out a lot more about him that she’d been hesitant to talk about over the phone. From past experience, Bernadette knew it was important to have the benefit of looking into a man’s eyes when difficult questions were asked. The eyes were truly the window to the soul, and Bernadette had become a trained professional in discerning whose eyes were telling the truth.

  She discovered that Coop’s drug dealing had led to his ten-year prison sentence, and during the first five years of his incarceration he was still dealing drugs, inside the prison. But his wayward days came to an end when one of the oldest inmates in the prison, Mr. Ray, passed away. Mr. Ray had been sentenced to life without parole when he was twenty years old. He’d been convicted of first degree murder, and at the age of eighty-five he’d spent his entire adult life locked behind steel bars for a horrible, drug-fueled fit of rage that he’d regretted. Mr. Ray had befriended Coop when Coop had entered prison and he’d constantly warned Coop about the dangers of continuing the life that had sent him to prison in the first place. Before the man died he’d asked to speak to Coop on his deathbed. During Mr. Ray’s final hours he’d told Coop things that changed his life and had set him on the road to becoming a completely changed man.

  Once Coop was released he had to adjust to a world that had changed while he’d been away. If it hadn’t been for his sister, Sue, and her kind and loving spirit he knew he wouldn’t have survived. She took him in and offered him a place to stay, but more than that, she provided love instead of judgment, which was what he’d so desperately needed.

  Slowly, Coop began to build his empire. He started by purchasing as much real estate as he could. He bought abandoned houses that no one else saw value in, then fixed them up and rented them to folks in need of a good, solid home to raise their kids. Soon, he purchased land as well, more houses, and then businesses. As Bernadette listened, it was clear that Coop was even wealthier than she’d originally thought. But she was puzzled because she couldn’t f
igure out the root of how he’d come into the money to purchase real estate in the first place. She knew the money couldn’t have come from his sister because she’d barely been able to make ends meet, and she knew he didn’t get a loan from the bank because he had no established credit or work history to qualify for a loan. But the thing that really stood out was that Coop didn’t secure a formal job. It was as if the money fell from the sky.

  Because they’d spent so long at the restaurant, they missed the movie. Bernadette hadn’t really wanted to sit in a cold dark theater, so she was happy when Coop suggested they go straight to Southern Comfort to cap off their date.

  On the short drive over to the club, Bernadette couldn’t contain her curiosity any longer. She wanted to know where Coop had gotten the money to begin building his empire. He’d told her everything else, and now she wanted answers to calm her presumptions and quell her worries. So she asked.

  “Coop, I want to ask you a sensitive question, and I hope you won’t be offended by my asking.”

  “You can’t offend me, so go right ahead and ask.”

  “Where did you get the money to start buying real estate after you were released from prison?”

  Coop paused for a very long time. Then said, “Are you sure you want to know?”

  As much as his answer scared her, she wanted him to give her the truth, no matter how hard it would be to have knowledge of what he could have possibly done. “Yes, I want to know.”

  “You’re the first woman, or person for that matter, who’s asked me that.”

  Bernadette looked into his eyes and did her best to act unmoved, because she actually was. She didn’t let his words throw her off; she was focused on finding out the truth.

  “I used to run with a rough crew, but we were always down for each other. The feds were trying to get me to turn evidence on my buddies in exchange for a lighter sentence, but I refused. Some people thought I was a fool for not taking the deal because it doubled my sentence, and from some I received the ultimate respect because I didn’t snitch. The truth is that I was offered a deal from my crew because in exchange for my silence they made sure I’d be taken care of when I got out. I kept my word and so did they. That’s how things worked back then.”