Midlife Crisis

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Midlife Crisis Page 18

by La Jill Hunt


  “What’s up?” He grinned.

  “Nothing much,” Janelle huffed, still maintaining her stride on the machine. “How are you?”

  “I’m good. You almost done here?”

  “I can be,” she told him and slowed down to a walk before stopping completely. She hadn’t done a full thirty-minute run as she planned, but talking with Sherrod was worth cutting her time short.

  “Wanna grab a smoothie?” he asked her.

  “Sure.”

  They went over to the juice bar and ordered.

  “How was the rest of your birthday weekend?”

  “It was pretty uneventful. I managed to get some rest before going back to work today. Luckily, I did have my doctor’s note, because I know my boss thought I was faking since it was my birthday week,” she said, sipping her smoothie.

  “Yeah, I probably woulda thought the same thing,” he told her.

  Janelle continued to make small talk as she tried to think of a way to bring up her concerns about Nivea finding out about them dating. She didn’t want to make the assumption there would be a second date, especially when he hadn’t even brought up seeing her again.

  “I really want to thank you again for all you did last week and Saturday night. I had a great time.”

  “Me too. I was wondering, if you’re not busy this Saturday—” Sherrod’s phone began vibrating, and he looked at it. “I gotta take this. Excuse me.”

  Janelle sat back, smiling. He was about to ask her on a second date. But, as much as that thought excited her, she knew that she definitely had to tell Nivea.

  “Hey, sweetheart, what’s going on?” she heard him say into the phone. At the word sweetheart, she couldn’t help but listen closer. “I don’t know about that. I know you do. I know it’s important. I know. Yes. Are you sure? Sweetie, you know I understand. Yes. Fine, I will see you Saturday.”

  Sherrod came back over and sat down. He looked worried.

  “Is everything okay?” she asked him.

  “Yeah, everything’s cool,” he told her. “Listen, I’m sorry. I got some errands to run. I will talk to you later.”

  Sherrod got up and walked away, leaving Janelle sitting at the table alone. She was stunned for a minute, and then she was glad she hadn’t mentioned anything to Nivea, because based on what had just happened, there wouldn’t be another date for her to worry about.

  “Is this seat taken?”

  Janelle looked up to see Titus standing in front of her, holding a chocolate cupcake, her favorite.

  * * *

  “Aunt Nelle!” Peyton screamed as she ran down the steps, carrying a laptop bag in one hand and a small suitcase in the other.

  “Peyton!” Janelle mocked her niece’s voice.

  “Let’s go!” Peyton told her.

  “Lord, child, I just walked in the door. Can I at least speak to my sister and my aunt?” Janelle said. “Where are they?”

  “Mommy’s not here, and Aunt Connie is in the den watching Law and Order, as usual,” Peyton said.

  Janelle walked into the den and spoke to her aunt. “Hey, Aunt Connie.”

  “Hey, Janelle. How you feeling?” Aunt Connie got up and gave her a hug.

  “I’m fine. How are you?”

  “I’m good. You here to pick up Peyton? Y’all ain’t have to invite me to your li’l slumber party. I didn’t wanna come anyway,” Aunt Connie teased.

  “You know you don’t need an invitation, Aunt Connie. You are always welcome to come and hang out. Go pack a bag and let’s roll,” Janelle told her.

  “No!” Peyton said quickly. “This is a PJ party. No one else allowed! Come on, Aunt Nellie. Let’s go!”

  “All right, Aunt Connie. We are gone. Tell Sylvia I’ll call her later.”

  “You girls be careful,” Aunt Connie told them

  “We will,” Peyton said, dragging Janelle with her.

  They were about to walk out the door when Jordan walked out of the kitchen.

  “Hey, Jordan.” Janelle smiled.

  “Hey.”

  “What’s up?” Janelle asked, thinking that maybe she should have suggested Peyton include her in their weekend plans.

  “Nothing much. Have fun,” she said and walked past them hurriedly.

  Janelle looked over at Peyton, who shrugged and rushed out the door.

  “Okay, what’s this about?” she asked her niece when they finally got in the car. “What’s his name?”

  “Who?” Peyton asked innocently.

  “Whoever has you scheming like this. Tell me.”

  “Promise me you won’t say anything, Aunt Nellie,” Peyton pleaded.

  “I promise.”

  “His name is Tank. He’s tall, funny, smart, and he is just amazing,” Peyton gushed. “And he’s talented and caring, and he’s just different.”

  “He sounds great. Does he go to your school?”

  “No, he goes to a different high school. I barely get to see him. But we talk, text, and Skype every day, and he makes me feel . . . I can’t describe it, Aunt Nellie.”

  Janelle noticed the look on her niece’s face that she knew too well. It was the look of happiness, contentment, and sheer joy. Peyton was in love.

  “Well, he sounds great. What does that have to do with this weekend?”

  “He plays basketball, and tonight is the state championship game. I need for you to take me to go see him play. It’s in Madison.”

  “Madison? What? Are you crazy? That’s like five hours away, Peyton.”

  “I know, and the game starts at seven tonight, so we need to be leaving now.” Peyton pointed at the dashboard clock of Janelle’s car.

  “Is this the boy you were kissing at church that your mom was telling me about?” Janelle asked.

  Peyton didn’t have to answer. The look on her face told it all. “It wasn’t a kiss like that. He came to church to see me. To church. Doesn’t that say something about how nice of a guy he is?”

  “Then why can’t you introduce him to your mom and dad, Peyton? Why can’t you be honest and tell them what’s going on?”

  “Because they aren’t trying to hear it.” Peyton shook her head. “I have no freedom, and they aren’t trying to give me any. And, Aunt Nelle, you know I haven’t given them any reason not to trust me. I make good grades, keep my room clean; I do whatever they ask of me. I am a good person.” Tears began to well up in Peyton’s eyes.

  “I know you are, baby, and I am so proud of the young woman that you are becoming. You have made some good decisions in life—some great ones, as a matter of fact. But this one, this sneaking around and hiding it, it’s not right. Your parents love you. We all do. And it’s clear that you love this guy.”

  “I do love him.” Peyton nodded. “And he loves me too. He tells me every day.”

  Janelle’s mind flashed back to Saturday night, when she and Sherrod were sitting on her sofa, enjoying her birthday wine. They were talking about dating and relationships and how difficult it was to find love.

  Sherrod had said, “See, the problem is that some of us are holding on to people who says that they love us but are still not willing to publicly announce it. But don’t you want to be with someone who loves you enough that they don’t care if the whole world knows it? I blame technology. Instead of real relationships, we got these e-lationships that consist of emails, texts, inboxes and phone calls, but no real intimacy. I personally want something real, and I’m not settling for anything less.”

  When he’d said it, as he stared at her and rubbed her feet, Janelle felt a connection she had only felt with one other person, and in that moment, she panicked. Now, as she listened to her niece talk about her new love, whom she communicated with daily via the phone or computer, Janelle knew what Sherrod meant.

  “Peyton, if he loves you, then he will have no problem meeting your family. He should care enough about you to want to meet them. You are smart, beautiful, and talented. You have an amazing future ahead of you, and most of all, you’r
e respectful. Any man who deserves you will want to preserve that. Not only should he want to meet your family, but he should introduce you to his family too. You’re too good to be sneaking around, and you’re too wonderful to be kept as someone’s secret,” Janelle told her. “Don’t you see that?”

  “Yes.” Peyton nodded. “I get it.”

  “Now, I promised you something, so I need for you to promise me something.”

  “Okay, what?”

  “Promise me that any guy that you date, you will invite him over and introduce him to your mom and dad. Not just him, but any guy you develop serious feelings for,” Janelle said.

  “I will.” Peyton smiled.

  “And this basketball game will be the last event that you sneak to.” Janelle shook her head.

  Peyton looked over at her and squealed. “Auntie, we can go? Really?”

  “I guess our PJ party has turned into a PJ road trip.” Janelle pulled her sunglasses over her eyes and cranked up the radio. They had a long ride ahead of them.

  * * *

  The convention center where the state basketball championship was being played was packed with people. Janelle and Peyton maneuvered their way up the bleachers and found two great seats near center court. The ride wasn’t as bad as Janelle thought it would be, but she’d had enough sense to stop and grab a change of clothes in case she didn’t feel like driving back home afterward. Seeing all the people that had gathered, she hoped they would be able to find a hotel room nearby if they decided to stay.

  “Oh, my goodness, look at all these people,” Peyton said. “This is crazy!”

  “Yeah, it is.”

  “Thank you, thank you, thank you.” Peyton hugged Janelle’s arm tight.

  “Yeah, yeah, yeah,” Janelle told her. “Thank me by buying me a box of that popcorn that guy is selling.”

  “No problem!” Peyton said, standing and yelling for the vendor’s attention. She bought them each a box of popcorn and a soda.

  Just as they started eating, the lights dimmed, and the band began playing a fight song. Janelle looked on the floor, and a group of cheerleaders dressed in white uniforms with orange-and-green trim held up a huge piece of white paper across a doorway. Written on the paper were the words Go Rattlers. Seconds later, a group of the tallest boys Janelle had ever seen came bursting through and onto the court.

  “Here they come!” Peyton gasped.

  “Tank! Tank!” girls cheered all over.

  Janelle couldn’t help but notice Peyton was not enjoying her boyfriend’s supporters.

  “Which one is he?” she asked.

  Peyton pointed and said, “Number forty-two!”

  “He’s cute!” Janelle said, looking at the tall, baby-face boy who was dribbling the ball between his legs. “Tank! Go, Tank!”

  “Oh my God, Aunt Nellie. What are you doing?”

  “Didn’t we say he should love you enough to let the world know? We drove five hours to see this dude. Trust, he will know you’re here. Tank!”

  The boy looked up at them, and Janelle waved, pointing to Peyton. A grin spread across his face, and he blew her a kiss and gave her thumbs up. Peyton blew him a kiss back and waved. She looked around at the other random chicks that had been screaming Tank’s name and gave them a smug grin.

  “See, I told you,” Janelle said with a look of satisfaction. “Your Auntie knows these things.”

  The other team made their entrance, and the two women took their seats.

  “Isn’t he fine?” Peyton said. “Wait until you see him play. He’s a phenomenon. All the schools have been trying to recruit him. And it’s not just because of his basketball skills. He’s an honors student too.”

  “That’s good,” Janelle said between handfuls of popcorn. She noticed the name of the other team and asked, “Drakeville High? Isn’t that Jordan’s old school?”

  “I think so. Wow, I didn’t even know that’s who they were playing, and she didn’t even mention it,” Peyton said.

  “I’m really gonna need for you to put in a little more effort with her, Peyton. She is your sister,” Janelle told her.

  “I know, but she’s so mean, and she’s spoiled. She hardly talks to anyone other than Aunt Connie, which should let you know how crazy she is.” Peyton shook her head and sighed.

  “Just try.” Janelle laughed.

  They stood for the singing of the National Anthem, and the announcer began calling the starting lineup for each team. They stood up and screamed along with the remainder of the crowd. Tank was the last player to be called.

  “And at forward, standing six foot five inches, number forty-one, Tarik King!”

  Janelle felt faint and sat down before her knees buckled beneath her. Of all the boys for her niece to fall in love with, she had to go and fall for Titus’s son.

  Sylvia

  “Those are nice,” Lynne said.

  Sylvia admired the silver pumps she was trying on in the mirror. She hadn’t planned on going shopping, but Lynne called and told her Nordstrom’s was having a killer shoe sale, and she couldn’t resist.

  “They are cute, but where am I gonna wear them?” Sylvia asked. “And what am I gonna wear them with?”

  “They would be perfect for your wedding,” Lynne told her. “And you’ll wear them with your wedding gown.”

  Sylvia glanced up. “What?”

  “Your wedding. The vow renewal. The one that’s in like five months. Remember?”

  “Girl, I don’t even know if we’re still doing that.” Sylvia sat down and slipped the shoes off, placing them back in the box.

  “Why not? You still have time to plan. Not a lot of time, but there’s still time.”

  “It’s just not the same. We still have issues, and I just don’t know.”

  “All marriages have issues. Yours is no different. And you’re going to therapy to work through those issues, right?”

  “Yes, but Garry and I haven’t even discussed renewing our vows. We’ve barely discussed staying married.”

  “Let’s keep it real, Syl. You’re going to stay married. You and Garry have more than enough love for one another to help each other through this. That’s the key.”

  “It’s not as easy as you think. I don’t think love is the problem. It never was,” Sylvia told her. “I’ve always loved Garry, and I always will.”

  “No one said it was easy. Hell, I don’t know any woman who can be dealing with this situation and handling it the way that you are. You are to be commended. Talk to me.”

  Sylvia looked at her friend and said, “I don’t think Garry feels like he can talk to me.”

  “What? What do you mean?”

  “He met Miranda when his father died. Garry never mentioned his father being alive and never mentioned him dying. He says he didn’t want to burden me with all of that. But I’m his wife. I’m supposed to be the one that he shares his burdens with, and he didn’t.”

  “Okay, and he’s apologized for that,” Lynne reminded her.

  “It’s not just that. It’s something else. In the letter, Miranda talked about how they became friends and were able to share with one another. Garry never complains about anything—not his job, not his health, his friends, nothing. He always says everything is fine. I know we have lived a good life, but it could not have been that good. He doesn’t talk to me, and I never realized that until this happened. How can I be married to a man who loves me but can’t trust me with his innermost feelings?”

  “Maybe he’s protecting you, Sylvia.”

  “I don’t want to be protected. I’m not some fragile china doll that will break under the pressure of him telling me he’s having a bad day at work,” Sylvia told her. “And I don’t know what else he’s keeping from me. Take Jordan, for example.”

  “She’s no longer a secret.”

  “But it’s still something he’s not telling me. He keeps threatening her about something, and it’s just weird. I can’t put my finger on it.”

  “I th
ink you should talk to him and ask him what’s going on. There’s no way he can expect you to move forward if he doesn’t tell you everything. You need to tell him that you can handle it and it’s the only way you are going to be able to rebuild the trust. Now, buy those shoes so you can wear them when you walk down the aisle.”

  Sylvia looked at the shoes. She didn’t know if she would be wearing them down the aisle, but she decided to buy them just in case, along with two other pairs that she liked.

  * * *

  She was surprised that Garry wasn’t home by the time she made it to the house later that evening. She checked in Jordan’s room and saw that she was gone too.

  “Garry and Jordan aren’t back yet, Aunt Connie?”

  “Nope. I was gonna order some Chinese food, but I didn’t know if y’all had eaten.”

  “That sounds good. Let me call and see if they’ve eaten.”

  She went to call Garry, but before she could dial his number, he walked through the door.

  “Hey, sweetie, I was just about to call you. Did you and Jordan eat yet? We are about to order Chinese.”

  “I haven’t eaten, but I don’t know about Jordan. You have to ask her.”

  Sylvia looked beyond her husband to see if Jordan was still outside. “Where is she?”

  “What do you mean, where is she? Isn’t she here?”

  They both turned and looked at Aunt Connie.

  “She ran out of here a couple of hours ago saying she was going with her dad,” Aunt Connie answered.

  Sylvia looked at her watch. It was almost six o’clock. Garry pulled out his phone and dialed a number that Sylvia knew had to be Jordan’s. She wasn’t surprised when he said she didn’t answer.

  “This girl is gonna be the death of me,” Garry growled.

  “Garry, wait. I know how to find her,” Sylvia said. “When Jordan pulled her little disappearing act the other week, I figured it wouldn’t be the last time we would deal with that situation, so I had Kenny put a GPS tracking app on both their phones without them knowing.”

  “You what? You put a LoJack on her phone?” Garry stared at her.

  “Yes, I did.” Sylvia nodded.

  “Well, that was kinda smart,” Aunt Connie said.

  “Why didn’t you say anything to me about it? Don’t you think that’s something you should have told me about?” Garry frowned and folded his arms.

 

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