He grabbed me by the arm. “You should have known I’d come. You’ve been staying away from me, ignoring my calls. Why are you doing this?”
“Let go of me,” I said in a strong, sure voice that belied my fear. “This is not the right time or place for you to be here. What is the matter with you? This is Phillip’s wedding.”
“But I need to see you right now.”
“Why? You’re the one who wanted me gone—remember? You pushed me away.”
“That’s not true. We were both having second thoughts.
I’m finished thinking now and I know what I…”
“You weren’t even sure if you loved me.” “What’s going on here?”
I turned around to fi Michael standing behind me, obviously concerned about me and confrontational toward Humphrey, but clearly no match for him.
“None of your goddamn business…who’s this?” he demanded turning his attention back to me. “One of your little boyfriends? Huh? Look what you’ve turned into—a little strumpet.”
I gave him no answer or reaction and he returned his attention to Michael.
“You her man?” he asked.
“That’s none of your goddamn business,” Michael shot back to him. “You ought to leave before you get more than you came for.” Humphrey burst into laughter that was both insulting and demented. He laughed from the depths of his soul, much longer than the remark called for. He stopped abruptly and pushed me aside, as he moved toward Michael, stopping close enough to touch him. By then, he’d begun to draw attention from the wedding guests and my mind started racing with ideas of how to get Humphrey to leave. I still couldn’t figure out how he came to know when and where the wedding would be, when to come looking for me.
“You don’t know what I came for…” he sneered when he spoke to Michael. “But what I did come for, I will get. And it’s not leaving with your woman. Besides, she’s not yours…yet.”
“Leave right now, asshole.”
I turned around again and this time it was Phillip standing beside the bar just a few feet from where Humphrey and Michael were standing.
“It’s just like you to show no respect to others not even during a wedding ceremony. My little sister finally wised up and dumped your ignorant ass. You can’t take it? Well, that’s too bad. Leave right now.”
“Not before I give you a little present,” Humphrey said with a mocking smile as he pulled an envelope from the inside pocket of his suit jacket.
“Man, I don’t want nothing from you except your ass gone out that door.”
“No,” he insisted. “You’ll definitely want this.”
Humphrey shoved the envelope into the top of Phillip’s tunic, then walked toward the door to leave. Before he parted, he turned around to face Michael again. “She’s just on loan, so don’t get too comfortable. If you sniff real good, you’ll smell me all over her, all in her. I’m in her blood.”
He left dead silence in his wake and in it, all eyes were on me. I felt the heat rise to my face as the humiliation of the scene sank in. Because of me, Humphrey had put an ugly blemish on Phillip’s and Patrice’s wedding day. It had probably been captured by the photographer’s lens and recorded by the videographer’s digital camera and more importantly, remembered by all in attendance, to be recounted for years to come. Tears welled up in my eyes, the same ones that hid behind my lids while Humphrey had vilified me, only now they spilled over and ran down my face.
“I’m so sorry, Phillip…it’s my fault…he tried to ruin your day…it’s my fault…I’m so sorry.” I sobbed and hurried off to fi privacy in some corner, somewhere. I pushed past all the spectators who’d gathered along the bar trying to get front seats to the entertainment. I found another route back to the room where I’d sat earlier with my brothers. I closed the door. I bawled my eyes out.
Angry voices conducted fierce inquiries outside the door. Which way did Humphrey go...Was he walking or driving…Where does he live…Do you know how to get there from here…I’m gonna go find that mofo. …He ain’t gonna humiliate my little girl like that… Voices belonging to Michael, Clifford, E.J., my father. They were only making matters worse, drawing more attention to me, and underlining the fact that I’d drawn him there.
They wanted to form a posse and hunt Humphrey down. They wanted to be a lynch mob and string him up for rendering them defenseless. And the only reason they didn’t defend me in the ways they really wanted to was because they were gentlemen. Beneath the anger, the outrage, and the shock, they lived by a social code that wouldn’t allow them to be as ruthless as they could—not at that moment. Until that day, I was sure Humphrey lived by one such code. After this, I wasn’t sure of anything about him.
My mother broke up the mob and knocked on the door, but pushed it open before I invited her in.
“Are you alright, Baby?” she asked while she scanned my face. She knew by the signs of fear and embarrassment that I was not.
“I’m not right now, but I will be.” Tears started anew. “What got into Humphrey? I never would have imagined he could be like that. Have you ever seen him that way?”
“Ma, I don’t know what’s wrong with Humphrey. Our break- up was mutual. He’s the one who changed everything, when his sister left. He changed! It’s almost like he took his hurt out on me.”
“He’s probably not used to needing the kind of help he needs right now and he’s angry about that. But I’ll be damned if I’m going to allow him to exorcise his pain through you. Let me go find my cell phone. I’m calling him right now.”
“Ma, wait. I’m mad too but I’m worried. I think he’s severely depressed.”
It was well into evening before I spoke with anyone about Humphrey again. My mother hadn’t been able to contact him on his cell phone. She’d left numerous messages that went unreturned. I figured it was for the best. She didn’t need to get herself all riled up with him on the phone. Her mother-of-the-groom duties weren’t completely fulfilled. She still had more pictures to pose for and from the look on Phillip’s face, she needed to have a heart to heart with him before we went back to the hotel. I felt so badly because I was sure that Humphrey was the main reason for the change in mood and by association—so was I.
I made my way across the room to Philip and led him onto the dance floor. They’d hired a reggae band to perform at the reception and they impressively covered all the popular songs and a respectable amount of Bob Marley tunes. They were playing one as we swayed to the music.
“Okay, Phillip. What gives? Are you going to keep that long face all night to make me feel guiltier than I already do?”
“No. It has nothing to do with you. I feel like I’ve just been hit with a freight train and right now, I’m trying to see if I have a leg left to stand on.”
“What are you talking about?” I asked.
He grabbed me by the hand and pulled me through a door that led to a small courtyard. No one must have known about it. It was empty and afforded us a lot of privacy. That’s what it seemed like he wanted.
“Tell me again how you met Humphrey…and don’t leave any details out.”
“Why? That seems like ages ago and it doesn’t matter anymore.”
“Look, it’s important. Just tell me, okay?”
I filled him in on that fateful rainy day when Humphrey rang the doorbell and I recounted that chance encounter at the Italian restaurant. It was a bad time for a stroll down memory lane. I didn’t want to remember those special times anymore. I wanted to forget. It was hard for me to recall those days when love was new and nothing else mattered in the world, but spending time with him or just listening to his voice.
“Who did he say he was looking for?”
“Huh? I think he asked for somebody named Sheila.”
Phillip swiped his hands through his hair and kept them folded on top of his head alerting me that something did not sit well with him.”
“What’s wrong? Why are you asking me all this? Do you know something I don�
��t?”
He met my eyes but didn’t utter a word. He was stalling. “Tell me the truth.
We sat down at a wrought iron scroll table next to a low brick wall cascading with ivy and he reached into his pocket, pulled out an envelope, and laid it on the table between us. He pushed it toward me.
“Sheila is the alias I had Madonna use, so we wouldn’t reveal our forbidden relationship.” His voice was just above a whisper.
“What?”
He gave his head a frustrated shake and motioned toward the envelope.
“Go ahead, open it,” he instructed and I did.
Moments of silence followed and turned into minutes… minutes that required no conversation. Words were jumping off the contents of the envelope: a ripped-out worn page from a diary dated three years ago, some photographs of Phillip from when he first moved to New York, when he was fresh-faced and eager to make his mark on the world—with special attention to the ladies, the picture of a brand-new baby—the ones they took in hospitals at birth, and the pièce de résistance—some photos of beautiful Madonna…as a student carrying books, working in the financial aid office, holding Phillip’s hand. Finally there was a picture of Madonna standing on the front porch of her mother’s home in D.C. with her hands on her pregnant belly and the smile of a proud mother-to-be. A name stood out from the diary page: Phillippa Marie Pearson Browne and in parenthesis (Pia). Sounds sprang from the pictorial: “Fine young thang”… “Man of my dreams”…“I love you”… “We’re having a baby”… “Get lost.” That sweet girl had suffered because of my brother, because she was betrayed and alone. I was mortified to learn that my big brother, who I looked up to and adored, had caused that kind of pain.
“She’s yours?” I asked. He nodded slowly.
“I can’t believe it. This is the person you wanted to throw away?”
“She wasn’t a person then.”
“She was always a person, Phillip. She’s slept in my bed. I love this child.”
“Stop getting all melancholy and shit. This couldn’t have come at a worse time. Don’t look at me like that. I’m not a monster. I told Donna I didn’t want this baby. She tricked me. The sweet innocent loving Madonna Pearson—she is just like all the rest. See, I told you that God has a sick sense of humor. Now the joke is definitely on me. Humphrey saw to that, didn’t he? He could have told me at a better time and another place.”
I stood up from the table and looked down on him with disappointment.
“Don’t look at me like that,” he repeated. “I’m not a monster. I made plans for my life. This wasn’t one of them.”
He was only thinking of his own life. He wasn’t thinking about the baby and how she didn’t have a father, something he’d had his whole life. The day was turning out to be full of surprises, none of them good. Humphrey was acting like a madman and Phillip, who looked down on him, was a selfish prick—actually no better—if not worse. But he had the luxury of walking around unaffected, passing judgement.
“I’m appalled at you, for considering this baby to be a sick joke. And just in case you didn’t know it, Madonna disappeared a few weeks ago. Now your daughter is practically an orphan. An honorable man would go find Humphrey so he could get some answers. He would want to make arrangements to meet his child and make room for her in his life. You’re more worried about Patrice and how she’ll react. But the truth is—if she doesn’t want you because of this, you don’t need her. That baby needs you.”
I walked away from him and back into the reception, which was winding down. Michael was talking with my father at a corner table and they looked like they were engrossed in a serious conversation. I was glad he was too engrossed to look my way because just one look would tell him something was wrong. Patrice scurried over to me inquiring about her new husband, and I directed her to the courtyard. It would be a few days, before they left for their honeymoon in South Africa—something they’d both been looking forward to. For the next few days, they were going to stay at Akwaaba in Brooklyn. I didn’t stick around to find out if he would tell her about Pia. I hoped there was some remnant of the man I once knew inside him. The way he handled it would attest to the kind of man he really was and if he would continue to command my respect. I kept on walking…past the long bar, out the front door and onto the street. I needed to think.
But it was right there in my face. It was starting to make sense now. I had to be the easiest mark in the world. The information Humphrey had on Phillip is what brought him to me, in the first place. I flashed back to that rainy day, when he brought sunshine into my life. My stomach roiled at the thought of my chance meeting being a calculated and sinister move in a chess game played by two men with two sisters at stake. My head was throbbing right along with my feet, as I walked hard on the concrete, driven by anger which was quickly turning into fear. All the years I’d lived so cautiously to protect my heart and I found myself fighting back the possibility of it shattering into sharp pieces. I’d kept reminding him of how important my relationship was with Phillip, ever since their argument. I’d say that if he only knew how I felt about my brother, he would try harder to like him. That must have been a big joke. My God, I felt like a fool.
I wondered how long it had taken him to decide how to reveal himself to Phillip. Had he been waiting for the perfect moment to ensure Phillip’s ultimate humiliation and to get Madonna’s revenge?
I would want revenge, if somebody hurt one of my siblings. The conflicting feelings associated with those life-changing events had to be tormenting him. He missed his sister and unless things had changed, she was nowhere to be found, that she could be dead made it worse. He loved me—I was sure of it—but he wasn’t sure if it was still safe to love so fiercely when life was so fragile. He’d wanted us to raise his niece. He needed someone to help him be what he could never be—her father. I could understand the importance of him discovering Phillip was that person and I respected his decision to let him know, even though he probably feared the outcome—the possibility that Phillip would separate him from Pia. What I saw in his eyes that day, those feral eyes staring wildly from his hairy face, was fear…fear of rejection; fear of love, and of life.
I turned back after walking the sixth block or so because I realized I was halfway to our old apartment. I had needed the walk to work some things out in my mind, but I wasn’t bold enough yet to confront Humphrey and ask him questions. I wasn’t sure if I could handle the answers—not if they turned out to be different from what my amateur psychology skills had told me. I deduced that the main thing he needed was time to heal and I would allow him that before opening the lines of communication again. For the time being, I recognized him as a tortured soul who needed help that I couldn’t give. When I finally came back to the restaurant, about an hour had passed and Michael was standing outside looking up and down the street.
“Where have you been?” he asked while coming toward me from the curb. “You had me worried.”
“I feel much better now. I just needed to walk off some anxiety.”
“Phillip and Patrice left a few minutes after you, and the other guests saw them off. Your brothers and their signifi ant others drove to a bar in Manhattan and your parents just drove off, heading to the hotel. You just missed them.”
“Do you mean to tell me you’re the last person here?”
“You know I wasn’t going to leave without my girl. You okay?” I took him by the hand and went inside the restaurant to find my belongings left in the back room. The band was breaking down their equipment and over the sound system, Lauryn Hill sang along with Bob Marley on “Turn Your Lights Down Low.”
Michael placed my things on a chair and pulled me onto the dance floor.
“You haven’t treated me very well tonight. I was the only dude at the wedding without a date, but I’ll let you make up for it now, if you’ll dance with me.”
The lights were mostly turned down and the evening shift was preparing the bar for its late crowd. He pulled my
arm overhead and twirled me around a few times, then dropped me into a mean dip. Laughter spilled from my lips before I had a chance to check myself. Michael made me forget my worries and myself, but he made me more aware of him. He reminded me of why he was still standing after everyone else was gone—with the subtle way his hand slid to the curve of my lower back pressing my ampleness into his leanness. He rested his chin on my shoulder with his nose nestled in the baby sweat smell of my neck mixed with notes of musk and amber. Our rhythm was united in perfect harmony— slow, familiar and uncomplicated.
“This feels so good, Baby,” he crooned in my ear, echoing my feelings of the moment.
It felt so easy to let myself love him. He was already in my heart, but then he was asking for permission to reside in another part—one that would know me in the biblical sense. His wiry long fingers were working their way up my back, stroking away the last dregs of resistance and I relaxed my body into his, while he whispered in my ear.
“I love you so much, Zoë…I know you need time…I’m willing to wait for as long as you say, as long as I know we’ll be together in the end.”
I drew back my head and looked up into his eyes, searching for any signs of uncertainty, but I found assurance. I found a well bubbling over with refreshment for my tired soul. With him, I knew I wouldn’t have to work very hard for the simple life I wanted. All the ingredients were right there on that dance floor and they were love, trust and friendship with a promise of passion waiting for the right opportunity. I would be a fool not to choose it.
“Don’t worry. We’ll be together.” I heard myself saying it and felt myself believing it. All that was left was to find myself doing it—just being with him.
“You two are a nice-looking couple.”
We turned around to fi one of the employees lighting candles on the tables.
“Thank you,” we said in unison.
When she walked off, Michael kissed me with a tenderness that made my breath catch in my throat, his lips landing on my eyelids, my nose and finally my lips. Damn, the man really did love me and had no problem showing it. We gathered my stuff and headed out the door toward the car, with plans unmade, the night still young and the possibilities endless.
Sometimes Love Page 17