It was just as well that I didn’t mention any of these things because they were no longer my concern. I’d just spent nearly six months of my life living a lie. I thought I was madly in love with the one man meant for me, having chosen to believe in paperback fantasies. I was learning the lesson of a lifetime: literary damsels in distress weren’t real people so the princes who rode in to save them were just as imaginary. I had been looking for someone make believe to change my real life into something from a fantasy. I didn’t know who was more messed up—Humphrey or me.
Though I was disappointed, I intended to separate from him on the most amicable terms. I left out of Lou’s diner, where I’d stopped to get coffee, and walked a little more calmly back to the apartment. I’d accepted the fact that it was over. I would take my most essential belongings and make arrangements to have my dressing table sent to me. I didn’t know how I was going to abandon the high hopes I’d had for us because I didn’t like to fail at anything. I especially didn’t know how to look into his eyes and actually say good-bye, but I did know I would not show him one moment of weakness. After all, he was practically pushing me out the door. The most gracious exit I could make would be with my head held high, a sweet smile on my face and a tender kiss on his lips for old time’s sake.
When I got there, he was talking heatedly on the phone in a heavy Jamaican patois. I don’t think he heard me come in, at first. He talked in a lower voice after that, standing out in the kitchen, while I started pulling clothes out of drawers in the bedroom.
“I’ll be back in a little while,” he called to me, then he left.
I started separating the most important clothes from the ones that could wait, the summer ones from the winter ones, the most casual from the dressiest and so on. I packed two bags. Then I reserved a ticket for a trip to Baltimore in the morning. This time, I didn’t hear him come back in and he came straight back to the bedroom.
“Need help with anything?” he asked.
“No, I don’t. Thank you.”
He started fussing over me, paying attention to the least little details: “Oh, Zoë, don’t forget those hair products we picked up at Aveda last week; they’re in the bathroom closet. And oh, I got you that Water Pik you wanted, while I was downtown; it’s in my top left drawer.” And so on.
I couldn’t take it anymore.
“What do you want from me, Humphrey?”
“I don’t want you to be mad with me.” His eyes were downcast. “I’m not mad—really, I’m not. I just need to get out of here and get to where things are what they seem. I want what I can take at face value.”
“I’m sorry. I haven’t been truthful about what I need to be really happy and I don’t expect you to understand what that means. I had the audacity to bring you into something so unstable as my family. Unfortunately, instability is all I’ve ever known.”
“It sounds like you are struggling with some personal demons and I hope you find some middle ground one day where you can have peace.”
“You were my peace.”
I suddenly realized I couldn’t stay there another night or another hour, maybe not another minute. It was obvious, love was still there between us, but it had not been enough to sustain us. The regret stifled me, all at once. I grabbed my bags, took one last look around and when I pushed against the bedroom door to leave, he grabbed me by my shoulders and turned me around into his deep, soulful kiss. I felt like he was asking for something I would never know and would never be able to give. But Lord knows I’d tried. When he pulled back, there were tears in his eyes, but mine were in my heart.
“I’ve never known anybody as sweet as you and I never will.”
He’d insisted on driving me to Penn station. I never told him my ticket was for the next morning, but at that point it didn’t matter anymore. When he pulled up to the curb, he leaned in for a kiss, but I caressed his cheek instead. I deposited the beautiful ring into his hand, gathered up my bags and climbed down out of the truck.
“I want you to keep this. I bought it for you.”
“No. I could never look at it without thinking about how needy I was that I’d believe a declaration of love on a first date. Good-bye, Humphrey.”
“But I do love you.”
“Yeah? Well, it’s not supposed to hurt like this.”
ChapterNineteen
I was so glad for the nest egg I had saved for emergencies. My trip back to Baltimore fell into that category. I stayed at a hotel near the airport for a week, before I let anyone know
I was there and spent my time reading, ordering room service and dreading the moment of truth, when everyone would know I came home a failure. I should have been more cautious, but I walked into love with my heart wide open and my eyes closed. And love had been a brick wall.
I worked up the nerve to call my father at work one day, when I’d had enough of staring at the same walls and the scene from my hotel window. With my mother, there would have been a demand for an explanation. My father would accept what I was willing to give, as long as I was all right.
“Eddie Browne, speaking.” He answered the phone after being paged.
“Hey, Daddy.”
“Zoë, is that you?”
“Yeah, it’s me. Do you have a minute? I need to talk to you.” Right away I wished I were speaking to him in person. I needed his calm assurance and fatherly presence to console me.
“What’s wrong, Baby?
“I’m home, Daddy but I haven’t called anyone because I needed the time to myself. I just wanted you to know that I’m here.”
“Tell me where you are and I’ll come and get you.”
“I’m out at the Marriott at BWI, but I’m okay. I’ll come past the house tonight.”
“No, I’m coming out there right now.”
He wouldn’t hang up until I gave him my word that I would leave with him and I couldn’t help wondering if it might not have been better to have called my mother. He wasn’t usually so persistent, but I guess he could sense my apprehension and that I was holding back. I gathered my things and waited for him to arrive. Humphrey had called my cell phone twice and I would not answer him. It was a miracle that he hadn’t called my parents himself when he got no answer. If he had done that, my phone would have been ringing non-stop.
Instead, I’d had plenty of solitary time to mull over the past six months in my mind and to think about where I wanted to go with my future. I knew it wasn’t the end of everything. My life wasn’t over. People’s relationships ended every day for whatever reasons. How I handled mine would be a test of my emotional strength. It all boiled down to this: I had accomplished too many things as a single woman to allow myself to fall apart because I was alone once again.
My father picked me up from the lobby and he didn’t give me any lip. All he gave was a fatherly hug and a gentle kiss to let me know everything would be all right. But I felt I owed him something, some kind of explanation for why I was there and why I was alone.
“Humphrey and I have decided to call the engagement off and before you remind me to take things slowly, let me just say you were right. I should have taken my time. But you know, I thought that if I didn’t move fast enough with him I would miss out on a good thing. I’m not getting any younger and I didn’t want to miss my chance to be happy.”
He looked at me with a smile, shaking his head in disbelief. “What are you talking about—you’re not getting any younger? You’ll just be twenty-eight years old in a week or so, girl. You’re a baby. You just made a mistake like everybody does. Isn’t it better that you realized it before you got married? Saved you some heartache and some money, didn’t it?”
“But I don’t want to be like everybody else,” I said. “I want to find somebody I can make happy and who makes me happy. I don’t want my love to be a mistake.”
“We all want those things, Baby. Truth is—the ones who make us happy are the main ones who make us sad.”
He chuckled and shook his head again pattin
g me on the back of my hand that rested between us. “I have to be honest and tell you that I’m glad to have you back home. And don’t worry about your mother. I’ll keep her off your back. You’re going to be alright, Baby.”
I moved into one of my brothers’ old rooms because there was no bed at the vacant house and still no buyer. But I did find excuses to go there as often as I could to have a refuge of my own. Humphrey continued to call and I still wouldn’t answer him. I didn’t see the point. He’d made his wishes known and now he had his space. I did miss him sometimes though, but that could have been from habit. I’d read that it takes twenty-one days to establish a new habit, so I planned to subscribe to the notion that maybe it could take me that same period of time to undo one. I just hoped Humphrey Pearson wouldn’t be a hard habit to break. Even though I wasn’t strapped for cash and had no pressing expenses, I was going crazy around the house with nothing to do. I needed a job. I didn’t want to go back to event planning full-time, not until I got my bearings. The first order of the day was finding viable employment that would pay a decent rent and allow me to live the lifestyle I was accustomed to. I had never paid to live anywhere, just by sheer luck, but I thought it was high time that I got my own place to define my independence and self-sufficiency.
I wanted something completely different than what I was used to. I wanted something that didn’t have the cookie-cutter image of the new housing developments cropping up at a ridiculous rate, something with character, in an area that wasn’t too stodgy and buttoned down. With those qualifications in mind, I went out on a sunny June morning, which also happened to be my birthday, picked up a City Paper and set about finding a place to live. And I didn’t come back empty-handed. I found a place in Mount Vernon. It had a lot of history, the Peabody Conservatory of Music, art galleries, restaurants and a diverse mixture of all races, genders, and lifestyles. It was just perfect for a fresh start.
It had been a busy day. I called the private owner by 8a.m., saw the place by nine, paid my deposit and first month’s rent by ten and purchased new furniture by two o’clock that afternoon. It was crazy, but I didn’t need a lot. And I wanted to act quickly before I changed my mind. I had enough money for a panic-free six months, if I didn’t find a job and my new landlord agreed to a month-to-month lease agreement. It was time for strong faith, this time in myself. That was something totally different from blind faith. I hadn’t done too well at that lately.
I trusted my own instincts the same way I did when I wanted to start my own business. That venture had turned out fine and so would this, I reassured myself. Come to think of it, I needed to find out how much of my own business still existed. Michael and I had done nothing legally to sever our ties from one another but I couldn’t bring myself to face him, not with the latest developments. Given that fact, I made up my mind to contact him by email. He didn’t need to know how miserably I’d failed at starting a new life without him.
It was six o’clock, by the time I’d finished putting my kitchen table together and two of the chairs purchased from Ikea. I still had to find someone to pick up the larger pieces I’d bought, like the sofa from a vintage shop around the corner, an entertainment center from Target and the bedroom set from my parents’ house. Damn, it was exciting moving into my first place, even if I was a late bloomer.
By nine that night, I was back at my parents’ house having a quiet dinner with them and exhausted from my big move, when Phillip called to wish me a happy birthday. My mother got to the phone first and posed every possible question about his wedding coming up in a matter of weeks. I wrested the phone from her hands and we were able to have a quick reunion.
“Hey, Phillip. I got your invitation and it really hit home that you’re officially off the market. I’m happy for you.”
“We’re gonna really talk when I get home next week, okay? We have a lot of catching up to do. Until then, keep your chin up, Lil Sis.”
“Why didn’t you tell him about your new place, Honey?” My mother was sitting on the edge of her chair, ready to coach me on how to act and what to say. I didn’t have an answer.
“I see you filled him in on my situation.”
I would have to travel back to New York for the wedding and I wasn’t sure if I was ready to go back. My mother chatted about it until I climbed the stairs to bed, the bed that I was unable to move to my new place.
“Congratulations on your new place, Baby. You’re doing real good for yourself.” My father offered a kiss on the cheek.
A long night awaited me, with so many thoughts racing through my head about what I wanted to do with myself. I booted up my laptop and discovered I had several unopened emails. The first two or three were spam followed by a couple of newsletters I kept forgetting to unsubscribe from. Then there was an online greeting card from my brother, Clifford who was now living and working in D.C. for the summer. The last two were from Humphrey and Michael respectively.
Humphrey used his computer to say everything I disallowed by not answering his calls, everything except “Happy Birthday.” He expressed himself about concerns, as they affected him: “This house is empty without you. I miss you. I just want to hear your voice. You’re not having any problem walking away. Is there someone else?” I think he just wanted to have something to say and maybe he was surprised that I hadn’t come running back, asking for another chance. What came across in his message was frustration and the potential for anger. I deleted it so I’d have no chance of believing it. .
Michael’s message, sent at 6a.m., was a combination of everything: personal letter, business memo, and birthday card. His very fi line was “Don’t delete this message”, which brought on a quick smile. He went on to say so many things that must have been pent-up inside him for a long time.
“Would you ever have imagined us being apart for so long?” he asked. “What’s up with that? Pick a time and any place under the sun and I swear I’ll be there. I miss you.”
When I clicked on the link at the end of the page, a musical birthday greeting popped onto the screen, rapping a song about being too old to party all night long. He’d written, “I know you didn’t think I’d forget. Love Michael.”
I really couldn’t sleep after that. I suddenly wanted to go out and do something crazy, impulsive and totally out of character for me. It was my birthday, after all and while I normally didn’t do anything extravagant to mark the occasion, I felt the need to make a change from the norm. I found a sexy dress with flirtatious possibilities all over it. I freshened up quickly because I was in Baltimore, which unlike New York, did go to sleep and I wanted to get enough time in for a celebratory drink or two.
As I passed through the living room, on my way out, I spied my mother dozing on the sofa and my father spotted me making my way to the door. He gave me a wink and whispered, “Now that’s my girl. Go out and have some fun on your birthday.”
I blew him a kiss and went out the door, into my car and straight toward my new neighborhood so I could preview the scene of many nights to come.
Chapter Twenty
The night was balmy and a little too much on the humid side. Hot, muggy summers were indigenous to Baltimore and it was one of the things I hated most about it. At least I was dressed for the weather with my brown halter dress and high-heeled strappy sandals. My hair had drawn up tight and kinky from the humidity, having abandoned the restrictions of the chemical relaxer I put in months ago. When I stepped into Buddy’s Jazz Lounge, the air was even thicker with a humidity that made everything heavy. But I sat down at the bar, anyway, and ordered a Coke to start the evening off. I really wanted to chug it down, but forced myself to take ladylike sips as I sat with my legs crossed and dangled the sandal from my foot.
The house trio was playing a smooth set of jazz and while the trumpet player played his solo on “Summertime”, I looked out the window toward the street. People were on the move on a Thursday night. This wasn’t like the place I’d left six months ago.
Girls were
out in small groups dressed in pretty dresses and tight jeans with tee shirts and folksy shawls draped across their hips. Couples were strolling hand in hand, admiring displays in shop windows, sharing private moments in corners and fast yellow taxicabs where picking up young men who looked a little too tipsy to drive. The drums and piano jumped back into the song behind the trumpeter’s last grandstanding wail and I ordered a Cosmo to toast myself. Here I was in my new neighborhood, filled with new possibilities and I was determined to enjoy my new life in it, even as I sat there alone while the band slipped smoothly into the melancholy, “In My Solitude.”
No matter how hard I tried to fight, the lyrics pulled emotions to the surface that I was trying hard to suppress, all the while painting a dismal picture of loneliness and regret. There was only one person I could ever really count on in times like that and I needed him then in the worst way. I thought about what his email said about meeting me anytime, anyplace and I realized that I wanted that time and place to be now.
Without giving myself a chance to rationalize my next step, I marched out of the bar, onto the street and started walking the distance back to my car. I weaved in and out of small groups of pedestrians trying to find somewhere to be. But at least they were trying to be somewhere together. Damn it, it was my birthday and I was alone, dressed like I was looking for someone, walking the streets at such a late hour. I felt like I was disconnected from everything right then and wanted desperately to feel something again. I didn’t know exactly what, but I did know that I wanted some degree of normalcy. And for the past few weeks, my life had been everything but that.
I finally came to where I parked my car and I drove all through the neighborhood, sometimes circling one block or another several times. An observer might have thought I was looking for some kind of illicit action—picking up some hot young thing or buying drugs—but the truth was, I was trying to put off doing what I already knew I would.
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