A Marriage of Convenience

by Jewel Daniel

  Kwabena, laughing easily, took center stage as guys teased, betting each other loudly about his ability to blow out all thirty-two candles in one shot. With one breath he had all the candles out. He called Tamara up to him and cut the cake with her, feeding her with a small slice. Tamara tried to enjoy the moment and be happy, but it was hard putting that girl, who had now left the party, out of her mind.

  As soon as the cake was cut, Mike did a toast. The guys popped the champagne corks, sending a spray of bubbly in the air that soaked Kwabena, Tamara and all in close proximity. There was lots of laughter and loud chatter before the music resumed and the revelers returned to the basement to dance.

  Tamara wandered off by herself and sat on the private balcony outside the master suite, hugging a blanket around her shoulders. It was the quiet time she needed away from the noise of the party. Judging by the parties she'd attended with Kwabena, it would be almost morning before they could get to bed.

  She heard a quiet knock and Jordan came onto the balcony. He sat in the Pier 1 papasan chair next to her and asked, "Are you ok?"

  "I'm fine," she answered, taking a long sip of her apple cider.

  "You don't look fine, and you didn't look fine cutting the cake."

  "I'm ok. I'm just a little tired, that's all. It's been a long day. We went to D.C. and had a lot of physical activity before coming to the party. A good night's sleep and I'll be good as new."

  "Tamara, you've never lied to me before. Don't start now."

  Tamara laughed uneasily. There was nothing about her thatJordan missed. The first time she and Kwabena had made love, she didn't have to tell Jordan what happened. He looked at her face and simply asked, "How was it?" He knew. That was what she liked most about having a best friend/brother like Jordan, he knew her inside and out. And there was nothing she couldn't tell him. Becky understood that. Kwabena was beginning to understand it.

  Tamara sighed. "I don't know ...I feel like an outsider among Kwabena's friends. It's as if there is this circle of trust that I'll never be able to penetrate."

  "That usually happens when there is a tight group of people of similar culture living in a foreign land. They become mistrustful of anyone outside of the group. But I know that's not the only thing bothering you."

  She remained silent for a while, looking at the darkened woods in the distance. Jordan was right; that was not the only thing bothering her. There were other more pressing issues and concerns.

  Tamara sighed and said softly, "Ben disappeared tonight just before we cut the cake. When I finally found him, he was out on the deck with a woman. They weren't in any compromising position or anything, but just their demeanor had me wondering if there was something between them. Do you think he may be still running around?"

  "Ask-him. "

  "I can't. He'll think I'm jealous or I don't trust him."

  "Truth is, Tammy, if you trusted him, we wouldn't be having this conversation. If I've learned one thing about marriage or any relationship in general it's that you've got to communicate. If your relationship to his friends is bothering you, talk to him about it. If you think there is something between him and this woman, ask him about it. Give him the opportunity to explain."

  She sat quietly for a while. "I bet you've never had to deal with that situation."

  He laughed. "I have. When Becky and I first became serious, she thought something was up between me and you because we spent so much time on the phone. But she refused to tell me what was bothering her. Instead, she let it fester until we were on the brink of a breakup when in anger she blurted it out. Only after she finally admitted to me that she had an issue with our friendship, I was able to address the problem. That's why we visited you in LA. I figured if she got to know you and see the way we related to each other, she would understand the nature of our relationship. And she did. Now she gets more time with you than I do."

  Surprised, she exclaimed, "How come you never told me about that?"

  "If I did, you would have backed off, because you wouldn't want to get between Becky and me."

  She could only smile. He was right. He certainly knew and understood her. She wondered if Kwabena thought the same thing about her and Jordan. Ah never "I guess I have no choice but to ask him."

  It was just after three in the morning when the party ended and Tamara and Kwabena crawled into bed. In all the excitement and fun of the party she had forgotten about his birthday gift. She'd bought him a watch and cologne. She also bought sexy lingerie and had all intentions of wearing it to bed tonight and seeing his mouth water as he imagined what lay beneath it. But the mood was no longer there. Not only was she tired, she was feeling insecure about their relationship. Tamara could not ignore the beautiful women who surrounded and openly flirted with Kwabena. Many of them were much more sophisticated and polished than she ever could be. Seeing him on the deck tonight with that very attractive woman brought many of her inse curities back to the surface. What if he still desired slim, shapely women? What if she wasn't attractive enough for him? The girl at the hotel in St. Lucia certainly thought so. Furthermore, she had no idea how to even broach the topic.

  She lay on her back, looking up at the ceiling, her hands resting beneath her head. She prayed for the courage to ask Kwabena the questions that were burning her, but she didn't know how.

  Kwabena reached over and held her. Tamara stiffened. He kissed her. She responded without enthusiasm, without feeling. Kwabena lay in silence. He had never seen her that cold or unresponsive. He knew something was bothering her.

  "Tamara, talk to me. What's bothering you?"

  "I'm ok," she responded hesitantly. "Maybe I'm reading more into things or I'm imagining things, but I don't think your friends really like me very much."

  "I don't think that's the case at all. Though you and Edebe got off to a rocky start, he respects and likes you. Chris likes you a lot, especially as he credits you for introducing him to the love of his life. And Mike adores you."

  "I'm not talking about your inner circle. I'm talking more specifically about your female friends."

  "What makes you think so?"

  "They are very cold and aloof when I'm around, even when they come to my... our house."

  "It's probably because they see you as an outsider. Some African women tend to be like that... cold and aloof when dealing with people of different culture and background. Some of them don't trust Americans. It's not just you."

  "But they liked me just fine before they knew we were married."

  Kwabena was silent for a long time. He didn't like the direction the conversation was heading, but he could do little to steer it otherwise. He tried humor. w1 1 1 11 1 .1 [[T TT 11 r, PP I I

  Chuckling softly, he said, "Well, I'm off the market... bought and paid for by an American woman."

  Tamara was in no mood to joke. "How many of them did you date?"

  Kwabena didn't respond.

  "Let me rephrase that... How many of them did you sleep with?"

  Kwabena sighed. "I don't like this conversation. I think we should just stop now."

  "Ok," Tamara responded. She felt tears stinging her eyes, but she refused to cry. She turned her back to him and lay silent.

  Kwabena looked over at Tamara. He knew she was hurting inside. He wanted to be open with her, but he wasn't certain how much she could handle. He didn't want to hurt her, yet he felt obligated to answer.

  "A few," he responded softly.

  "And they are still your friends?"

  He knew she wouldn't understand the way things were. Yet he wanted her to understand. With Tamara's lack of a sexual past, she could make the most chaste person sound like a whore-and God knows he wasn't chaste.

  "A few years ago, I was engaged. Things didn't work out and I decided that I didn't want another long-term committed relationship. So I just had casual noncommitted sexual relationships with people I've remained friends with."

  "And that lady on the deck, was she one of your friends with benefits?
"

  Kwabena sighed. He and Imari had been together just before the arranged marriage with Tamara. It was a discrete relationship that no one knew about. They both preferred it that way. He'd ended it about a month prior to his marriage, but they remained friends. Unfortunately, she had found out about his marriage like most of his friends: when Tamara had drunkenly announced it at the party the week before Thanksgiving. Needless to say, Imari was very hurt, partly because she had U.S. citizenship and would have been willing to marry him had he asked. At that time, he never intended to have a real marriage and he didn't want to hurt any of his friends by marrying them for a green card.

  "Yes, but we ended the relationship prior to our marriage. Tamara you probably won't understand. Monogamy never came easy for me. It's not something I'm proud of, but I can't pretend to have lived a chaste lifestyle. However, I never used women. Anyone I was with knew exactly what kind of relationship and level of commitment that we had-and it was mutual."

  "So what makes you think, monogamy will come easy to you now?"

  He lay quiet for a few minutes before answering. "Because I love you and I don't want anyone but you. That's the difference. Come here," he whispered, drawing her close to him. "You don't have anything to worry about. I promise to be faithful to you always, Tammy."

  Yet Tamara still worried. Long after they'd made love and Kwabena had fallen asleep, Tamara lay awake, her mind racing. She mentally examined the girls in Kwabena's little circle ... his friends with benefits. They all had one thing in common: they were pretty. That girl on the deck earlier was a cross between Halle Berry and Nia Long. She was beautiful, with high cheekbones, long lashes, full lips and a body that most women would die for. All Tamara had was two hundred and twenty pounds of loose flesh with cellulite and stretch marks on her legs and dimples in her bottom. How could she compete?

  As Tamara lay in the dark listening to Kwabena's rhythmic breathing, she knew what she had to do. By hook or by crook she was going to lose the weight. She was going to keep her husband.

  "Wake up, honey!" Kwabena shook Tamara.

  It was Saturday evening and Tamara had been asleep on the couch since early afternoon. Tamara opened her eyes slowly, shifted position and promptly went back to sleep.

  "Wake up!" He shook her even harder. "We're going to be late, and you know your mother hates lateness."

  Tamara's mother had been in New York on business and had driven down to be with them that night. They, along with Leticia, Ebony and her boyfriend, Darlene and Chris, and Afie and her husband were supposed to have dinner at an Ethiopian restaurant in Washington, D.C.

  "Come on, Tammy. Get up." If he didn't know better, he would have thought she was pregnant, the way she'd been sleeping lately. He shook her again.

  Finally, Tamara opened her eyes and stretched lethargically. "I'm just so tired," she whispered, dragging her body off the sofa. Her face was pale. She looked exhausted. Her skin sagged.

  "You're sure you're not pregnant?"

  "How many damned sticks do I have to pee on to convince you I'm not pregnant!" she snapped.

  Kwabena was taken aback by the vehemence in her tone. It reminded him of the Tamara he had first metthe perpetually angry version.

  "I'm sorry," she said. "I've been really busy at work these last few weeks and with the classes, I've just been drained."

  Kwabena didn't respond. He knew she worked hard, but there was nothing out of the ordinary that would put such a strain on her. Plus, it was Mike who had first alerted him to Tamara's lack of energy. He'd told him she'd been dozing quite a bit at work and he was worried about her. That's when Kwabena first insisted she take the pregnancy test, though she assured him she couldn't be. They had always used protection.

  Kwabena did not pursue the issue further. "I brought you this," he said, handing her a plastic bag.

  She opened the bag and smiled. In the bag was an authentic African dress made by Kwabena's aunt in Ghana. She had made it based on measurements they had taken last month. "Thanks, Ben," Tamara said without enthusiasm.

  "Go ahead, try it on. I want you to wear it tonight." She removed her clothes and stepped into the dress. The dress sagged on her. He'd noticed that she lost a little weight, but it was only looking at her in the droopy dress tailored to her size that he realized how much smaller she was.

  "How much weight have you lost?" he asked, finding it hard to believe her change in size.

  "I haven't really been checking," she answered vaguely.

  He knew Tamara and he knew she had been recently obsessed about her weight. She was on the scale almost daily.

  "How much?" he demanded sternly, upset that she would blatantly lie to him.

  "Thirty pounds," she responded hesitantly.

  "Thirty pounds in three weeks? That is way too rapid. What have you been using?"

  She knew how he felt about diet pills or anything artificial. "Nothing. I've just been eating less and cutting down on the chocolate chip cookies and ice cream."

  "It's not healthy to lose weight that fast. No wonder you're always tired. Maybe you should see a doctor."

  "Believe me, Ben, I'm ok."

  Leyoca took one look at her daughter and immediately knew something was wrong. Tamara was all decked out in her African attire, complete with matching headdress, quite appropriate for dinner at the Ethiopian restaurant. She smiled brightly when she greeted Leyoca and kept up interesting conversation with the rest of the party, yet she looked haggard. Leyoca could tell that Tamara had lost weight, but it was more than that. She was pale and she looked tired and she was jittery. The most obvious change was Tamara's lack of appetite. She hardly touched her food, and Leyoca knew Tamara had love affairs with food-any kind of food. She ate when she was depressed; she ate when she was happy. She ate when she was lonely; she ate when she was surrounded by friends. Tamara always ate.

  As soon as dinner was over, Leyoca drew Tamara aside. "Tammy, you don't look well. Are you ok?"

  "I'm ok. I'm just tired."

  "Are you pregnant?"

  Tamara exploded, "Why the hell does everyone think I'm pregnant! Good grief, Mommy, when I get pregnant I will let you know!"

  Leyoca looked at her daughter, stunned. Of all the reactions, she never expected this. Something was definitely wrong. "Why the anger? Did you and Ben have a fight or something?"

  Tamara sighed. "No, we didn't have a fight. I'm just tired. I've been working full time, and I'm taking classes. I guess I'm just lacking sleep."

  Leyoca considered giving her a lecture on the many years she spent working full time, taking care of a child and going to school, but she decided against it. She would ask Kwabena as soon as she had the opportunity.

  The opportunity presented itself the next day as she prepared to return to New York. Tamara was upstairs sleeping, though it was already noon. Kwabena was outside, preparing the pool for the coming summer season. Leyoca walked outside, looking at him whistle as he worked.

  "Hey," he said.

  "I wanted to talk to you about Tamara," she said, taking a few steps toward him. "I notice she is not herself lately. Is everything ok?"

  Kwabena stopped what he was doing and responded, "I wish I knew. I've tried asking her, but she just snapped my head off."

  "Yup, that's exactly what happened when I asked her. But she looks sick."

  "I suggested that she see a doctor, but she insists that she's fine and her weight loss is by choice. I was hoping you would help me convince her to see a doctor. You know how stubborn she can be."

  "I thought maybe something was wrong between the two of you," Leyoca said, carefully observing Kwabena to see his reaction. ccTZr ii •r.1 r r•. TTr•.1 .i

  "Well, if there is, I am not aware of it. With the exception of her temper, we've been getting along great." There was nothing in his tone or body language that indicated dishonesty.

  Kwabena gave Leyoca a hug. He said, "Tamara and I may not have had a conventional marriage initially, but things changed,
and I do care about her deeply. I promise you Ley, I will take good care of Tamara."

  It was almost two Pi'I. when Kwabena finished his work in the yard. He went upstairs to check on Tamara. He was worried. She'd had a hard time falling asleep last night when they got back from dinner and had slept until long past noon today. As he entered the room, he heard her slam the drawer of the nightstand shut.

  "Hey, sleeping beauty," he said. "You're finally awake."

  She looked up at him nervously. "I'm just going to take a shower and prepare lunch. Where's Mommy?"

  "She already left. She had to be back in New York to catch her flight this evening."

  Tamara grabbed her robe and lumbered like an old lady to the bathroom. Kwabena waited until he heard the shower running, then eased open the nightstand drawer. He was not a snoop, but he was worried. Tamara's rapid weight loss, her mean-spirited temper, the sleeplessness at nights and the tiredness during the day had him concerned. Plus she'd become secretive overnight.

  Then he saw them. Buried beneath her lingerie were two giant bottles of extra-strength diet pills. They were both three-month supplies. One was still unopened, the other almost empty.

  She had lied to him. Anger burned within him. He grabbed both bottles and stormed into the bathroom. Tamara had just exited the shower and was toweling dry. Her once smooth breasts and butt were nothing but sagging flesh.

  "What are these?" he demanded, his voice hard, his tone harsh and angry.

  She looked up at him guiltily and quickly wrapped a terry robe around herself.

  "Diet pills," she answered testily and snatched them out of his hands.

  "Are you crazy, woman?" he bellowed. "You've used a three-month supply in three weeks. Are you trying to kill yourself? Give them to me."