Midlife Crisis

by La Jill Hunt

  “Daddy, why am I being punished?” Peyton cried out again.

  “Peyton, you’ve been gone for three hours and no one knew where you were,” Sylvia said.

  “From what I hear, she was gone longer than that, and she didn’t get punished.” Peyton looked over at her mother.

  “What are you tryna say?” Jordan snapped.

  “I ain’t tryna say nothing!” Peyton’s voice went up an octave. “I think I said it very clear.”

  “My taking a walk has nothing to do with your little disappearing act. Don’t try to bring me into this, because you definitely don’t want it, boo!” Jordan stepped in front of Peyton.

  Tension filled the room, and Aunt Connie quickly grabbed Jordan by the arm. “Come on, Jordan. Let’s go take another walk now.”

  “Yeah, walk away,” Peyton said, rolling her eyes.

  “Peyton!” Sylvia barked.

  “Yes?” Peyton asked when Jordan and Aunt Connie were out of the room.

  “What is going on with you?”

  “Nothing. I haven’t done anything wrong. I tried texting you to let you know where I would be. I don’t know why you didn’t get it. I am home before dark, and I’m fine. Okay, I came home late from school on a Friday evening. I’m seventeen years old, and you all treat me like I’m twelve, and it’s not fair.” Peyton was now full-blown crying.

  “Baby, listen. We were worried, that’s all. We know that you’re seventeen and you’re growing up, but you’ve gotta communicate better,” Garry said and looked over at Sylvia. “We all do, including myself.”

  “I’m sorry,” Peyton said.

  Sylvia stared at the two loves of her life standing side by side. The two of them meant everything to her. So much about their family was changing, and it seemed as if everything was happening at once. Her eyes met Garry’s, and she thought about the afternoon they just shared and how he dropped everything to be by her side while they were dealing with the crisis that evening. She knew that as much as she loved her daughter, she trusted her about as much as she trusted her husband right about now.

  Janelle

  The entire family had enjoyed a wonderful brunch on Saturday morning as part of Janelle’s birthday weekend, and the ladies were now heading to the nail spa, minus Garry. As they were leaving the restaurant, Jordan went to get into the car with her father, but Sylvia stopped her.

  “Where are you going young lady?” she asked.

  Jordan looked confused by the question. “With my father.”

  “We have plans,” Sylvia said.

  “Huh?” Jordan looked around, confused.

  Janelle walked over and stood beside her sister. “Hello, it’s my birthday! Ladies’ day out!”

  Jordan still looked confused, so Janelle grabbed her by the hand and said, “Tell your daddy goodbye and let’s go.”

  “I don’t think—” Jordan started.

  “You don’t have to think,” Sylvia said. “You’re a child. We think for you.”

  “Have fun, ladies.” Garry waved.

  “Trust me. We’re all going shopping with your credit card. We will,” Janelle yelled to him and laughed. She then put her arms around the young girl’s shoulders and said, “Now, come on, Jordan.”

  “Thank you,” he mouthed, and she nodded. She somehow got the vibe that the young girl felt like an outsider, and she wanted to make her feel like a part of the family. She even let Jordan pick out what color she should get for her nails and toes.

  “Oh, my goodness, I needed this,” Janelle moaned as the technician massaged her foot. “Ohhhhh, yessss!”

  “Do you really have to sound like that?” Sylvia asked.

  “You shoulda heard how I sounded last night.” Janelle winked.

  “Grossss!” Sylvia responded with a look of devastation on her face.

  “I hope you made sure he wrapped it up if he was making you sound like that,” Aunt Connie told her.

  “Aunt Connie!” Sylvia gasped. “There are children here.”

  Janelle leaned up and looked over at Aunt Connie, who was seated between Peyton and Jordan. Both girls were laughing.

  “What children?” Aunt Connie said. “They are both young women, and they both know about wrapping it up, don’t you? I already schooled them. They will not be included in the statistics of newly contracted HIV or pregnant teens.”

  “Please stop, Aunt Connie,” Janelle pleaded. “It’s my birthday.”

  “I just want to remind you in case you decide to have birthday sex: wrap it up.” Aunt Connie nodded. The tiny older woman seated on the stool in front of her aunt, rubbing her feet, looked up and nodded. “See, even she knows.”

  “Where did you go last night?” Sylvia asked.

  Janelle was grateful that her sister was making an effort to change the subject.

  “Went to dinner at Malibu’s. That new Jamaican spot,” Janelle answered, her eyes still closed as she continued to enjoy her foot massage.

  “How was it?”

  “The food was good, the service was slow, and the crowd was okay.” Janelle shrugged.

  “You don’t sound too excited. What happened?”

  “Nivea happened.” Janelle frowned.

  For the most part, she had enjoyed having dinner with her friends. It was completed with her being serenaded with a reggae version of “Happy Birthday” by the staff and the band, and then a cake from her favorite bakery. But Nivea and her behavior had cut their evening and their plans short. She was used to her best friend getting tipsy and being loud, but for some reason it seemed extra boisterous last night. She kept asking about where Jarvis was and what he had planned for Janelle’s birthday.

  “He was all over you last night. Y’all look so good together!” Nivea leaned over and pushed her shoulder. “That man is in love with you.”

  “Nivea, what the hell are you talking about?” Natalie laughed. “You are drunk.”

  “Now is neither the time nor place,” Janelle said, looking around the table. Although everyone there was someone Janelle considered a friend, her relationship status with Jarvis was not something she wanted to discuss in front of them.

  “I’m trying to help you,” Nivea said.

  “It’s not that serious, Niv.” Janelle shook her head. Her phone vibrated, and she saw that it was a text from Titus.

  Hey, baby.

  Hey, T. She texted back.

  I have something for you, he told her.

  Really what? she asked.

  He responded with a picture of himself, holding a chocolate cupcake with one single lit candle.

  Janelle smiled and sent him a thank you text with a kissy face.

  Love you, his last text read, and she put her phone on the table beside her.

  “Are you listening to me?” Nivea’s voice got louder.

  “Sorry. I’m listening,” Janelle told her.

  “This thing between you and Jarvis, it is serious! You just don’t see it. You know what your problem is?” Nivea frowned.

  “I don’t have a problem.” Janelle forced herself to act amused, although she wasn’t.

  “Yes, you do.” Nivea reached across and grabbed Janelle’s phone. She moved her fingers across the screen and then held it up, showing a picture of Titus, who had sent another message. “This is your problem. You can’t see what you have with Jarvis because of this. This isn’t real.”

  “Give me that.” Janelle snatched the phone from her.

  “You are going to lose a good man if you don’t start acting like you want him.”

  “Where is this coming from?” Janelle looked over at Natalie.

  “I don’t know.” Natalie shrugged. “Probably all those rum punches she’s been sucking down.”

  “I just want my best friend to be happy! I want us all to fall in love and be happy! It’s your birthday!” Nivea screamed, leaning over to hug Janelle but knocking their drinks over in the process.

  She was now not only embarrassed but pissed at her friend’s behavi
or.

  “That’s it. It’s time to go,” Janelle said, standing up from the table. “Come on, Niv. Let’s get you home.”

  “Nooooo, we’re supposed to go to the club! It’s still early!” Nivea whined.

  She was right. It wasn’t even ten o’clock. It was still early, but Nivea was in no condition to go to the club or anywhere else. Janelle couldn’t believe she had gotten drunk so quickly.

  “I’ll drive her, Nellie,” Natalie said, looking disappointed. “You guys can go ahead and enjoy the remainder of your evening.”

  “No, I’ll take her,” Janelle said. They paid the tab, thanked the other guests, and led Nivea out the door.

  “Where did you park?” Natalie asked Nivea, reaching into her sister’s purse for her keys.

  Nivea looked around the parking lot and laughed. “I don’t remember.”

  “Forget it,” Natalie said.

  They decided that Natalie would just take Nivea to her house, and she would bring her back the following day to get her car from the restaurant parking lot.

  * * *

  “Leave it to Nivea.” Sylvia laughed after Janelle told her what had happened. “Always the life of the party.”

  “Yeah, I guess.” Janelle sat back and closed her eyes.

  “Have you talked to her today?” Sylvia asked.

  “Nope,” Janelle said, and she didn’t plan on speaking with her either. It wasn’t that she was mad or upset, but she knew that if she had spoken with Nivea, her friend would be ready to continue the partying, which had gotten cut short. Besides, Janelle already had plans for the evening; plans that she really didn’t wish to explain to her best friend. At least, not yet.

  * * *

  It was nearly seven o’clock, and Janelle had changed outfits four times. Clothes were strewn all over her bedroom, and her quest for the perfect ensemble for her dinner date seemed to be impossible. She had gone from a casual pair of fitted jeans that showed off her butt perfectly, along with her favorite top, which happened to have a plunging neckline, to a sleek, form-fitting black dress that hugged her curves and showed off her shapely calves. Any other time, she would have called Nivea, who had the ability to pick out the perfect fly outfit no matter the occasion. Making that call was definitely not an option. She settled on the jeans with a simple, ivory off-the-shoulder blouse and a pair of red heels: casual, chic, and sexy. She put the finishing touches on her hair, jewelry, and makeup. She checked her reflection in the mirror to make sure she looked fierce, but not overdone.

  “Definitely not bad for thirty-eight,” she said to herself. She grabbed the red Michael Kors purse Sylvia had just given her for her birthday and headed downstairs to wait for Sherrod’s arrival. For some reason, her stomach was quivering. She went into the kitchen to pour herself a glass of wine when she heard the doorbell.

  “Happy birthday,” Sherrod said, holding a gift bag and another small box. Dressed in jeans, a white dress shirt, a sports jacket, and black shoes, he looked amazing.

  “Thank you.” Janelle smiled, greeting him with a hug and holding the door for him to come inside.

  “These are for you.” He handed her the items he was holding.

  “Awww, thank you!” Janelle said. They went into the living room, and she put them on the table. “You look nice.”

  “And you look gorgeous. You can open your gifts before we go.”

  Janelle reached for the greeting card, which was taped to a box, and opened it. It was a corny, comical card, and it made her laugh. She opened the box, and inside was a beautiful hand-painted wine glass with her name in red.

  “It’s beautiful, Sherrod. How did you know red is my favorite color?” she asked.

  “Well, the fact that you’re a Delta was my first clue.” He laughed, pointing to the sorority paraphernalia in the corner. “Your car is red, your workout sneakers are red, so I figured you have a thing for the color.”

  “You are right,” she told him, admiring the glass.

  “Open the bag,” he said.

  She reached inside the red gift bag and pulled out a bottle of Chardonnay. She read the label, which she could barely pronounce.

  “It’s French,” he explained. “I visited a vineyard in one of the provinces when I was in France about a year ago, and I fell in love with it. I saw you had a bottle of Chardonnay in your fridge the other night, so I thought you might like it.”

  Janelle stood and listened to him in disbelief. “You visited a vineyard in France?”

  Sherrod laughed. “Yes, in France. I plan on going to a couple of Australian vineyards this summer.”

  “Wow.” Janelle stared at the bottle, which was almost as beautiful as the glass he had given her.

  “We’d better get going. I made reservations for dinner. Are you ready?”

  Janelle was still trying to comprehend the fact that he had traveled to France and planned on going to Australia in a few months. Traveling the world and exploring international places was something she loved.

  “Yeah, let me grab a jacket,” she told him. She went to the hall closet and grabbed her blazer.

  Twenty minutes later, they pulled in front of what looked like a small cottage nestled in the downtown area of the city. She looked around, trying to figure out exactly where they were. The small wooden sign outside read: MUEHLERS.

  “Have you ever been here?” Sherrod asked.

  “I don’t even know where we are,” Janelle said.

  “Good,” Sherrod said, hopping out and rushing to open her car door. She stepped outside, and they went to the door, where a maître d’ greeted them.

  “Welcome to Muehler’s.”

  Once inside, Janelle was taken aback by the beauty of what she now realized was a wine bistro. It was quaint, cozy, filled with the sound of jazz and the smell of great food. Sherrod gave them his name, and they were led to their table.

  “How did you find this place?” Janelle asked after she was seated.

  “Someone told me about it.”

  The waiter came over and explained the specials and the featured wines of the evening. They were just about to order when a short, balding man walked over and greeted them.

  “Rod, how are you, sir? I’m so glad you came in tonight. Is everything okay?”

  “Walter, my man.” Sherrod stood up and shook the man’s hand. “Everything is great. We just got here. This is my friend, Janelle Hayes.”

  “Ms. Hayes, pleased to meet you. Please enjoy yourselves, and if you need anything, just let me know. My staff knows to make sure you are well taken care of, Rod,” Walter told them.

  “Thanks, Walter,” Sherrod said.

  “Who is that?” Janelle asked.

  “That’s Walter Muehler. He owns the place.”

  “How do you know the owner? Wait, Walter Muehler? The Walter Muehler? As in the Muehler Foundation?” Janelle asked, referring to the family that, in their city, was equivalent to the Rockefellers and probably had just as much money.

  “Yep,” Sherrod said casually.

  “How do you know Walter Muehler?”

  “I’m his friendly neighborhood pharmacist. He comes into the store all the time.”

  “Un-freaking-believable.” Janelle shook her head and laughed.

  The two of them enjoyed a great meal and shared a bottle of the most amazing wine she had ever tasted. Mr. Muehler insisted that they both take a bottle home before they left. Sherrod held her hand as they walked to the car.

  He opened the door and asked, “Did you have a nice time?”

  “I had a wonderful time.” Janelle smiled at him. It had to be one of the best dates she had ever been on. Sherrod was funny, entertaining, and fascinating, and she was glad she had decided to go to dinner, birthday or not.

  “I’m glad, because I am having a wonderful time too. Happy birthday.” He leaned over and kissed her softly on the cheek. It was quick, gentle, and unexpected; but for Janelle, it was nice. She climbed into his car with a smile.

  “So
, you are really into wine, huh?” Janelle said as they drove out of the parking lot.

  “I guess you could say that.” Sherrod laughed. “It wasn’t something I planned as a hobby. My best friend was a master sommelier, and I sort of got hooked on tastings and visiting vineyards.”

  “My best friend is somewhat of a sommelier too.” Janelle laughed. Then she quickly realized he knew who her best friend was and regretted saying it.

  “Yeah, Nivea can toss them back. She always could, but that’s what makes her Nivea.” Sherrod nodded.

  “I can imagine how she was back in middle school.”

  “The same as she is now: beautiful, loud, smart, and she could always dress her tail off. She was best dressed girl in middle school and high school.”

  Janelle listened to him talk about memories of how Nivea would cheer him on from the sidelines while he ran track and field, and how no one expected a nerd like him to be dating a firecracker like Nivea.

  “We were like night and day, but she was so cool. I couldn’t believe that day at her house when she told me she wanted me to be the one. I was nervous as hell because I knew if anything went wrong, she was gonna tell everybody.” Sherrod laughed.

  “The one what?” Janelle asked.

  “Wait, Nivea didn’t tell you?” he said with a cautious look.

  “She told me she’s known you since middle school and you were friends.”

  “Oh, damn. I thought you knew.” Sherrod sat back in his seat. He paused a moment, then said. “Janelle, I was Nivea’s first.”

  “First what?” Janelle’s heart began pounding, and she prayed he wasn’t about to say what she thought he was.

  “I was the guy she lost her virginity to.”

  Janelle’s jaw dropped. She felt nauseous and closed her eyes. Just as she was about to ask Sherrod why he hadn’t said something earlier, her cell phone rang. Taking it out of her purse and seeing it was Peyton, Janelle prayed that nothing was wrong.

  She answered, “What’s wrong, P?”

  “Hey, Aunt Nellie. Nothing’s wrong. I need to ask you a favor.”

  “What is it? I’m kind of busy right now.”

  “Are you on a date?” Peyton asked.