by La Jill Hunt
“If you say so. Well, I gotta go. I have a hair appointment. I’m meeting Sherrod later for drinks and appetizers and to catch up on old times, I guess,” Nivea told her, again causing a twinge of jealousy for some reason.
She wanted to ask Nivea who invited who out, but her best friend had just pointed out that she spent the night before with two guys, one of whom happened to be married, so she decided it was none of her business. Besides, she wasn’t even sure if she was interested in Sherrod, really. Sure, he was good looking and seemed to be nice, but so were a lot of guys, including Titus and Jarvis.
“Really?” Janelle said. “Well, you guys have fun.”
“I am definitely gonna try. I’ll call you tomorrow.” Nivea sounded a little more excited than Janelle wanted her to sound.
“Okay, cool,” she said dryly.
“And Janelle?” Nivea yelled just before Janelle ended the call.
“Yeah?”
“Stay outta the gym.”
Janelle faked a laugh and hung up the phone. Suddenly, she had a slight headache, and she was ready to go home, get into bed, and sleep the rest of the weekend away.
Sylvia
“Why can’t I go? I’ve been here almost a month. I miss my friends, and I want to hang out. Why are you making this so difficult for me?” Jordan yelled from downstairs. “Why can’t I go?”
Sylvia walked closer to her office door so she could get a better listen to what was going on downstairs. Garry and Jordan had been arguing all morning because Jordan was homesick and begging to go back.
“Look, I said I would take you back for a visit, and I will when I get time.”
“I don’t need you to take me. I can go and come back tomorrow,” Jordan said. “This is not my home. This is your home. I didn’t want to be here; you made me come here. No one even wants me here! I am almost sixteen. I have a car, and I know Mom left me the townhouse and some insurance money. I could have stayed and taken care of myself,” she cried.
“Jordan, you’re being ridiculous. There was no way you were staying there alone.”
“I didn’t have to be alone. I could have stayed with Doc. He even said—”
“Stop it. There was no way in hell I was leaving you with him.”
“Why not? He loved me, and he loved my mama!”
“No, Jordan.”
“You let her go away for the weekend to spend time with her friends. Why can’t I? I wanna go home.”
Sylvia held her breath, waiting to see what Garry’s response would be, especially about Peyton. She knew Garry wasn’t too happy when he found out Peyton was spending the weekend with Meagan. She’d been waiting for him to say something to her about it, but he had sense enough not to.
Garry said, “Jordan, this is your home. And you can’t go back there right now. You know how I feel about him. He’s not your fa—”
“You don’t have to remind me of that.” Jordan jumped up and stormed off.
“Jordan, come back here! Don’t you walk out of that door!” Garry shouted after her.
The door slammed so hard that Sylvia winced. She wondered who Doc was and what Jordan meant. A few moments later, she heard Garry climbing the stairs. She hurried back over to her desk and sat down. She hadn’t really said anything to her husband after giving him his thirty-day notice nearly a week ago. She hadn’t brought it up, and neither had he. She did see a real estate guide lying on the front seat of his car, but that didn’t necessarily mean he was looking for a place to go.
Sylvia thought about the letter that Randy had written her. Both she and Kenny had been surprised by what the woman had to say, and in a way, Sylvia could relate. Suddenly, she heard a weird sound coming from their bedroom. Sylvia walked into the hallway and listened closer to what sounded like a muffled whimper, and she realized it was Garry. Her husband was crying. In all her years of knowing him, Sylvia had never seen her husband shed a tear, except when he witnessed Peyton’s birth. One of the things she loved about Garry was that he was the strong, silent type. During the loss of both her parents, Sylvia was an emotional wreck, and Garry was her rock, always in control of his emotions.
Hearing him cry did something to Sylvia. As angry and disappointed as she was, instead of her first instinct being he’s getting exactly what he deserves, Sylvia felt something totally different. She slowly walked down the hallway and into their bedroom.
“Are you okay?” she asked him softly. Even though her voice was barely above a whisper, she could tell that she startled him.
Garry quickly wiped his eyes and cleared his throat and nodded. “I’m good.”
“Garry—” Sylvia began, but stopped when she heard the front door open.
“You can take those bags into the kitchen, Nelle. But wait. Give me that Target bag.” Aunt Connie’s loud voice drifted from downstairs. “Oh, and where is that bag with the stuff for the gumbo in it?”
Sylvia heard her sister answer, “It’s still in the trunk. I’ll go get it in a second.”
“Do you want me to make yours with the andouille sausage or the other kind?”
“Andouille. But I don’t think Sylvia eats pork anymore,” Janelle told her.
“She sure enough ate them pork chops I fried last week. As a matter of fact, I think she had two. She thinks I don’t know that she came back in here and ate them later that night.” Aunt Connie laughed.
Sylvia rolled her eyes at no one and shook her head. She glanced over at Garry, who had a smirk on his face. She was busted, because she had sneaked down into the kitchen after everyone was asleep and gotten one of her aunt’s amazing fried pork chops. But she only had one. Garry must have eaten the other one, because shortly after she came back upstairs and climbed into bed, he went downstairs.
“Jordan, go help Janelle get those bags out the trunk for me,” Aunt Connie yelled. After a few seconds, she yelled again. “Jordan!”
“She’s not here!” Sylvia bellowed, causing Garry to jump again.
“I’ll go help,” he quickly said and rushed out the door.
Sylvia was tempted to call out after him, asking him to wait because she needed to talk. Instead, she sat on the side of the bed and began to pray. She wanted to do the right thing, feel the right thing, believe the right thing, and right now, she didn’t know what to do, what she felt, or what she believed. It was her turn to cry.
“Syl?” There was a soft knock at the door. “Are you all right?”
She looked up and saw Janelle standing in the doorway, looking stylish as usual in leggings, a sweater, and a pair of Uggs with a Burberry scarf tied around her neck. Although she was still thick and curvy, it was obvious that Janelle had lost weight and toned up some. Although they both shared their father’s dark cocoa complexion and keen nose, Janelle looked more like their mother with her long eyelashes and thick brows. Her sister was beautiful, outgoing, smart, and confident, which made Sylvia wonder why she settled when it came to her love life. It made no sense at all.
“I’m good.” Sylvia wiped her tears and used the same words Garry had used moments before.
“No, you’re not. And I don’t blame you. There’s no way you can be good with all of this. I know you don’t want to talk to me about it. I understand why, and that’s fine. I just need for you to know that I love you and I’m here for you.”
Sylvia turned and nodded at her sister. “I’m fine, really. But I appreciate you saying that. Thank you.”
“You don’t have to thank me, Syl. I’m your sister. I hate that this is even happening to you.”
Sylvia knew Janelle was sincere in what she was saying, but the fact still remained that her sister had been sleeping with another woman’s husband and still maintained a relationship with him. Sylvia thought it was hypocritical in a sense. She loved her and knew that she meant well, but she didn’t feel comfortable talking about it with her. How could she?
“I know you do.”
“I’m glad to see you and Garry fighting through this together. I w
as talking to Aunt Connie, and she said you know love is real when you find the person worth fighting for and who will fight with you. What you and Garry have is real. I’ve watched the two of you over the past twenty years grow and build together, and I think—no, I know your marriage is worth fighting for.”
“Don’t you want that?” Sylvia asked her.
“What?” Janelle gave her a confused look and tilted her head to the side.
“Something worth fighting for. Someone to grow and build with,” Sylvia said.
Janelle’s eyes met hers, and Sylvia saw her body stiffen.
“This isn’t about me right now.” Janelle frowned.
“Answer the question.” Sylvia was not backing down. She’d been wanting to have this conversation with her sister for a while now, and it was time.
“I am fine,” Janelle said.
“I didn’t say you weren’t. I asked if that was something that you wanted. Because I don’t think you realize that’s what you deserve.”
“Sylvia, please don’t go there,” Janelle pleaded.
“I have to go there. What you’re doing is wrong!”
The tension between the two of them grew.
“I’m not doing anything!”
“You are in a relationship with a married man. You don’t think that’s wrong? Being a side piece?” Sylvia finally said the words she’d been holding back.
“Sylvia, I am friends with a man who happens to be married. And the crazy part about all of this is that until this shit went down with Garry, you had no problem with me being friends with Titus. As a matter of fact, I recall you asking me on more than one occasion if I had seen or talked to him, and to tell him you said hello. Oh, wait. What about a couple of months ago when Titus called while you and I were having lunch, and you asked me to pass you the phone? You and him laughed and chatted it up about old times and how you thought he was gonna be your brother-in-law one day. Was it oh-so-wrong then? You didn’t seem to mind it one bit!”
Sylvia winced at her sister’s words. She knew that, in a way, Janelle was right. She had, in a sense, condoned the relationship she had with Titus for the past few years because it somehow seemed harmless. She knew that they shared a bond that few people find, and that maybe they truly were meant to be together, but circumstances separated them.
When Janelle had first told her that she had run into Titus and they had spent time together, Sylvia thought that it was romantic. Now, the tables were turned, and she was dealing with the fact that her husband had a so-called friend outside of their marriage, and it hurt like hell. She didn’t want to think of her sister causing someone else that much pain.
“You’re right, and I admit I was wrong for being a part of it and encouraging it. But don’t you see what you’re doing?” Sylvia shook her head.
“No, I don’t, because I’m not Miranda, and Titus isn’t Garry. It’s not the same thing. I’m not some random chick that Titus met after he got married. We loved each other way before that, and you know it. But I messed it up. I walked away, and when he tried to fight for me, I pushed him away. I blew my chances of having a life with him. It’s all my fault, and I get that. And I have tried to stop loving him and to stop thinking about him and to live without him, but I can’t. And I wish I could, but I can’t. So, maybe this is what I deserve and all I’m supposed to have, and I am fine with that, because I would rather have a piece of Titus than have no parts of him at all.”
“Then you are really more pathetic than I thought,” Sylvia told her.
Janelle walked out without saying anything else. Alone again, Sylvia lay back on her bed and closed her eyes. She hated arguing with her sister, but she knew what she said was right and it was said out of love. The devastation and hurt on Janelle’s face let her know that her words cut a little deeper than she had intended, but Sylvia didn’t care. Maybe that was what Janelle needed to feel in order to understand the severity of her actions.
“Sylvia, are you all right?”
Sylvia looked at Garry, and for some reason, she started to laugh. He looked at her strangely until she said, “That seems to be the question of the day, huh?”
“I guess so.” He shrugged.
“Is Jordan back?” she asked him.
“Not yet. I’m giving her a little more time to cool off. She’ll be back soon. It normally takes her about forty-five minutes and she’s good.” He sighed, looking overwhelmed.
“So, she does this often?”
“Not really, but she does have a temper. Always has. Walking away is her way of coping, I guess. When she was little and couldn’t have her way, she would go into her room and sit in the dark. Her mother felt that it was better than throwing a temper tantrum. You know I wasn’t too happy about allowing her to do that, but she made the point that everyone deals with anger in their own way,” Garry told her.
Sylvia listened intently as her husband spoke of Jordan and Miranda casually. She searched his face for some sort of clue or sign to indicate the level of their relationship, but there was none. There was only hurt and confusion, which were the same emotions that she was feeling. She thought about the letter Miranda wrote her and came up with the only plan she knew that would get her to the bottom of this.
“When did—” Sylvia started, but Garry interrupted her before she could ask her question.
“Sylvia, I know you want me out of here and I understand why. God knows I put you in an impossible situation. I don’t even know what either one of us was thinking when we even agreed to have Jordan come here. No, erase that. I know what I was thinking. I was thinking that it was just like my wife to allow this child that she had no idea even existed into our home. You are such a good woman, and your heart has always been in the right place, and for that I’m grateful. As a matter of fact, I am eternally grateful that you are even giving it a chance.
“But I know this isn’t a healthy environment for any of us right now. It’s too much stress and tension, and I hate living like this. I love you and Peyton, and even Jordan too much to allow it to continue. It’s not fair to any of you. So, I found a place, and it’ll be ready in a couple of weeks. Jordan and I are—”
“Wait, Garry.” Sylvia hoped and prayed that what she was about to say wasn’t something she would live to regret. She decided that it was the only chance their marriage would ever have.
“Hear me out. You’re right. Maybe I was a little hasty when I agreed to have Jordan move in here. But I said yes. It was a decision we made as a family. And living here has been trying on all of us. I think part of the problem is that we haven’t talked like we need to.”
“I tried talking to you, Sylvia.”
“I know you have. I was angry, and I still am. I wasn’t ready to hear what you had to say. I guess we all deal with anger in our own way,” she told him. “But now I’m ready. We need to go to counseling, as a couple and as a family. I’m not saying this will save our marriage. Hell, I don’t even know if this is survivable.”
“Our marriage is far from over, Sylvia. That thought wasn’t even in my head. There is no damn way I’m losing you and my family. It’s survivable because I can’t survive without you. So, whatever you need me to do, whatever we need to do, I will do it.” Garry walked over and kneeled in front of her and took her hands into his.
She stared at her handsome husband as he pleaded with her. Her mind told her heart not to melt. Not yet. It wasn’t time.
She maintained her composure and said, “Tell me about Miranda, from beginning to end. I want to know everything, and I mean each and every detail. That’s all I want to hear. It’s a start, for now.”
Garry leaned back and took a deep breath. “I’ll tell you everything.”
“And, Garry, if you lie or leave out one single detail, this marriage is over.”
Sylvia had memorized each and every detail of the letter from Miranda. If what Garry told her matched what Miranda had said, she’d know that as hard as telling the truth was, he loved her enough to
be honest. In her mind, she put on her boxing gloves and prepared for what would be the fight for their marriage. Whether they would win had yet to be determined.
Janelle
By the time she left Sylvia’s house, Janelle’s slight headache was a full-blown migraine. Here she was trying to reach out to her sister and show support, and instead, Sylvia snapped on her. As she drove out of Sylvia’s neighborhood, she spotted Jordan walking down the street and pulled over beside her.
“Jordan!”
Jordan glanced over and looked confused. “Yes?”
“It’s me, Janelle.”
“Oh, hi,” Jordan said.
“Where are you going? Your dad is looking for you, and so is Aunt—um . . . yeah, Aunt Connie.” At first Janelle didn’t know what the girl called their aunt, but then she figured everyone called her Aunt Connie, whether they were related or not.
“I’m going back in a little while,” Jordan told her.
“Do you need a ride?” Janelle offered.
“No, I’m good. Thanks.” She shook her head.
“Are you sure?” Janelle asked her. Although Sylvia and Garry lived in a prestigious, gated community, she still didn’t feel comfortable with the idea of a fifteen-year-old girl walking out alone. Crazy comes in all zip codes and economic levels, according to Aunt Connie. However, her head was hurting, and she didn’t want to become any more involved with Sylvia and her household issues than she already was—and her sister had made it clear that she didn’t want her around.
“Yeah.”
“Well, at least call your father and let him know you’re okay,” she told her.
“I will.” Jordan nodded and continued walking down the street.
Janelle waited a few more moments and then pulled away. She watched Jordan in her rearview mirror until she couldn’t see her anymore.