Who Said It Would Be Easy?

by Cheryl Faye

He smiled and said, “As long as you promise not to take advantage of me afterward, I don’t.”

  “Ha, ha. I don’t think you have anything to fear there.”

  “What are you saying? Aren’t I handsome enough that you might want to take advantage of me?” he facetiously asked.

  Charisse fixed her mouth to respond, but he quickly added, “I mean, if you hadn’t already taken a vow of celibacy?”

  “Yes, but I have taken a vow of abstinence,” she emphasized.

  “Okay, abstinence, but…so, is that yes, that you would want to take advantage of me?”

  “No. How did we get here from talking about getting something to eat?” Charisse suddenly asked with a frown.

  “Well, you started talking about buying me dinner. I just wanted to make sure your intentions were pure,” he said with a mischievous smile, sounding remarkably like she had a couple of days ago.

  “You’re a funny guy, you know?”

  Turning the car around at the next exit, she headed back to the restaurant. When she pulled into a space in the parking lot twenty minutes later, she waited a moment before turning off the ignition. When she finally cut it off, she sat behind the wheel a while longer, her head bowed.

  Unsure of whether to disturb her, Stefàn finally asked, “Charisse, you okay?”

  When she raised her head and looked over at him, he was surprised to see tears. “What’s wrong?” he tenderly inquired.

  She shook her head, “Nothing. I’m just happy.”

  Stefàn felt his heart swell at her show of sensitivity. He reached over and gently wiped away a tear. “You should be. You did good.”

  Charisse chuckled through her tears. “Do you know how long I’ve wanted this car? Ever since I was a little girl. This has always been my dream car. I remember the first time I ever saw one. We were down in Baltimore at my grandparents’ house. An older cousin had a boyfriend who came by to see her. I was outside playing with my other cousins when he pulled up. His was black on black, too. I stopped playing and said to him, ‘Wow, that’s a really nice car.’ He said, ‘Wanna take her for a spin?’ Of course, I thought he was crazy and he laughed at my reaction, but he let me sit behind the wheel and pretend I was driving. He even drove me around the block in it, much to my cousin’s dismay, but that’s when I decided I was going to get one of my own.”

  “How old were you?”

  “About ten or eleven.”

  “That young?”

  “Yup. I still have the first model Corvette my father ever gave me, too.” She sighed with pleasure. “I’ve always wanted the first car I bought to be a Corvette.”

  “Well, second’s not too bad,” Stefàn said.

  “No, this is my first car. My parents bought my Camry as a gift when I graduated from college.”

  “Then you already know if you want something bad enough, there’s nothing to stop you from getting it if you put in the necessary work. Congratulations, Charisse.”

  “You know, I’ve come to realize that if you put your faith in God, He will bless you in more ways than you could ever believe.”

  “Do you really think God is responsible for you getting this car?”

  “Absolutely.”

  “But you worked for it,” he stated.

  “Yes, I did. But you have to work for some of your blessings. God is not just going to indiscriminately bless you if you don’t first recognize who He is. You have to first acknowledge that He is the head of your life. He wants to be in relationship with us. He wants us to worship Him. His word says, if you love Him and worship Him, He will bless you abundantly.”

  “I believe in God, Charisse, but…. I’ve accomplished things in my life without worshipping him.”

  “Yes, but it’s through God’s grace that you’ve accomplished all you have. Whether you realize it or not. The first step is believing in Him. You just said you did. Now, granted, the devil is a great imitator. He will have you believing you don’t need God, that you can make it in this life without His grace and mercy. But all that’s good is from God, Stefàn,” she said with conviction.

  He smiled and said, “You make me feel very…unworthy.”

  “Oh, no, I’m not trying to—”

  “I know you’re not. Your faith is strong. I admire you for your convictions. Maybe one day I’ll come to understand it the way you do,” he told her.

  “I hope so.”

  There was a moment of silence between them for an extended period before Stefàn said, “I know we haven’t known each other long, and I don’t know if it even matters to you but…I’m very proud of you.”

  She couldn’t explain why, but hearing those words from Stefàn meant more than she would have ever imagined. “Thank you.”

  Seated beside him was a woman who knew who she was, knew what she wanted and was steadfast in her beliefs without being self-righteous. She’s a credit to black women everywhere, and I’m proud to be the man she chose to share her accomplishment with.

  “Charisse, can I ask you a question?”

  “Sure.”

  “Why’d you call me?”

  “When, today?”

  “Yeah, after you picked up the car. I’m guessing you got home not too long before you came to get me. I was just wondering why you called me to ride with you.”

  He noticed her blush and she briefly turned her head away. But just as quickly, she turned back and defiantly met his eyes with her own. “I called you because I knew you would be able to appreciate what I was feeling about having this car.”

  “Is that the only reason?”

  She hesitated for a moment. “No,” she softly admitted.

  He waited for her to continue. When she was not immediately forthcoming he asked, “Care to elaborate?”

  She took a deep breath then confessed, “I called you because I like you, more than I wish I did considering we just met, and I wanted you to ride with me. Now, have I stroked your ego enough?”

  She appeared angry, as if he had forced her to reveal more of herself than she wanted to, but he could identify with what she was feeling. “I didn’t ask because I wanted my ego stroked, Charisse,” he said affectionately. “I asked because I was curious to know if you…well…if you were fighting the same battle I am.”

  She was momentarily taken aback by his phraseology. That was exactly how she felt, but she challenged him nonetheless. “And what battle would that be?”

  His gaze appeared to soften as he said, “The one between my head and my heart.”

  His words gave her pause. Is he really feeling like that or is this just another of the lines he uses to get what he wants? “Which one’s winning?” she asked.

  He chuckled. “Now if I told you, what would you do with that information?”

  “I really can’t say. But you know what? I think we’re both experiencing something we probably never have before. I mean, I could be wrong, but I’m sure you’re used to having your way with the women in your life whenever and however you like.”

  Stefàn didn’t respond verbally, but his left eyebrow twitched.

  “And you’ve probably never met a woman who, to use your words, doesn’t pull her punches and pretty much tells you exactly what’s on her mind,” she continued.

  “Not often and not with such…finesse,” he said with a smirk.

  “Well, I told you I’m not like other women.”

  “Yes, you did. And no, you’re not. And you’re right, it has been a long time since I’ve met anyone who challenges or intrigues me the way you do, but I know it’s not just me. At first I thought you had a grudge against the way I live my life, but I see that’s not it at all. You’re on guard, just like I am.” He paused momentarily. “There’s something about you, Charisse Ellison, that makes me want to put my guard down, but I’m hesitant to do so. You see, I like you, too, a lot more than I’m comfortable with considering our lives seem to be worlds apart.” He paused again for a few seconds. “But make no mistake, I’m glad you called and I’m
even happier that I was there when you came by because I would have been bummed if I had missed you. I know you’ve got an opinion about me and the way you think I’m living, and that’s cool. I made a promise I would never tell you a lie and I don’t intend to start now. I’d like to get to know more about you, Charisse, and I want you to get to know me. I think you’ll find that with all of my…faults, I’m not too bad a person to have as a friend.”

  Charisse sighed and said, “Neither am I.”

  Stefàn smiled at her and reached over to caress her cheek.

  In the next breath she said, “C’mon, let’s go eat. All that driving has worked up my appetite.”

  As they emerged from the car, Stefàn said, “You seem to handle her very well.”

  “She responds extremely well, too. Here…” She tossed him the keys. “You can drive back.”

  CHAPTER 9

  THAT’S WHAT FRIENDS ARE FOR

  Myra Lopez lived alone in a two-bedroom co-op apartment in Brooklyn, New York. She and Charisse had met when they were both students at Baruch College and had become fast friends. She had worked to put herself through school and graduated magna cum laude with a degree in Business Administration. Myra currently owned and operated two very successful beauty salons in her old neighborhood in the Bronx—one near Tremont Avenue and One Hundred Eighty-third Street and the other on Southern Boulevard, across town—although she had no training as a beautician or stylist. Her two cousins, Consuela and Carmen, both worked magic with a comb and supervised the cosmetological end of her businesses. Myra handled the money and the management, and, if necessary, she washed hair, swept floors and took appointments.

  The youngest of six, Myra had come a long way from the tenement apartment she had grown up in with her siblings and their mother. Although her father was still alive, she didn’t count him in the equation because he’d left when she was still in elementary school, despite the fact that he managed to make an appearance in their home every six months or so to take advantage of her mother.

  Mrs. Lopez had died of congestive heart failure three days after Myra’s college graduation. Knowing the type of stress she had lived with every day, Myra often thought her mother had hung on just long enough to see her graduate. She could remember watching her mother struggle to hold two jobs and still be home every evening to cook dinner for her children. Each time one of her four brothers got into trouble—which was more often than not—her mother had aged a few years, but she had always been there to bail them out. When her sisters got pregnant, Mrs. Lopez took on the responsibility of caring for still more children because her sisters were so trifling.

  After watching the way her father and siblings had abused their mother’s kindness and trust, cynicism and skepticism enveloped Myra, so much so that she vowed to never love a man so much she would give up her name for his and consent to be his slave for the rest of her life. Harboring quite a bit of anger and hostility toward her family when her mother died, she was able to let most of it go with the help of a capable and caring therapist, but because of her upbringing, she still had an unhealthy distrust of men in general.

  Thanks to her incredibly gifted accountant, who also happened to be her best friend, Myra had a nice little nest egg, but she often wished she was more like Charisse. Even though it was only recently that Charisse had found Christ, she still had a hearty sense of adventure. Charisse was outgoing and audacious. Myra, to put it plainly, was a coward. She had always handled her business with aplomb, and she managed her father’s affairs equally as well. He was now an invalid and a permanent resident at a nursing home. Despite his parental failings, Myra still loved him and was the only one of her six siblings who even took the time to visit him.

  She had always been very good at taking care of other people’s issues, but when it came to her own, Myra was running scared; cautious almost to the point of inactivity. She loved to dance, especially to the salsa rhythms of Hector Lavoe and Tito Puenté, but seldom had the opportunity to do so. That was one of the reasons she had enjoyed herself so much at Jewel and Terry’s wedding. She detested the club scene since every time she had ever ventured into one, some rude man had tried to accost her on the dance floor. She liked to go to the movies and the theater but was too afraid to go by herself. About the only thing she felt comfortable enough to do alone was shop, although she seldom had to because Charisse was as much a shop-aholic as she was.

  Unfortunately, Charisse lived in New Jersey and Myra didn’t own a car, nor did she know how to drive, so her world was somewhat limited. Charisse frequently tried to convince her to loosen up and do something wild and crazy. Myra envied her friend’s boldness. She knew she could never have agreed to take a ride on a motorcycle with a man she didn’t know like Charisse had done with that guy, Stefàn. She couldn’t even see herself on a motorcycle with a man she’d known her entire life. Even the way Charisse had embraced her religion was typical of how she had always undertaken anything new. She put her whole heart into it. Several times Charisse had tried to get Myra to attend services with her, but there was still too much pain. In some ways, Myra felt God had abandoned her mother, who had been a staunch Catholic, so she was unwilling to trust Him either.

  Despite Charisse’s protestations to the contrary, Myra noticed she was getting quite caught up with that Stefàn character. She knew Charisse was looking to settle down with a man who shared the same spiritual beliefs she did. Following Jewel’s bridal shower and during their drive home after the wedding, Charisse had told her just that, but Myra had already known. Charisse had come from a stable family. Her parents were still together and from what she had seen, still very much in love.

  That guy Stefàn was a player. Myra knew it, Mrs. Ellison knew it, and Charisse did, too. So why does she want to hang out with him so much? Charisse had called her earlier in the week to invite her to a pool party he had invited them to at some rich guy’s house in New Jersey. Although they had already made plans to go to the movies that afternoon, Myra could tell Charisse really wanted to go with Stefàn. The only reason Myra agreed to go with them was to keep an eye on him and make sure he did not try to take advantage of her friend. Charisse was already too blind to really see him for what he was—despite all of her big talk—so Myra felt it was her responsibility to watch her girl’s back.

  OUT EARLY SATURDAY MORNING, Julian drove to his ex-wife’s house on the other side of Teaneck to pick up his seven-year-old son, Julian II, better known as L’il Jay, for little league practice. Julian adored his son and was very happy he and his son’s mother, Michele, had such a good relationship.

  Having somewhat old-fashioned values, when Michele became pregnant nine years ago, Julian had felt it was his duty to marry her. Sadly, a month after they had wed, Michele miscarried. Devastated by the loss, the couple wasted no time trying to conceive once again to assuage the pain of the void left by their misfortune.

  Julian believed strongly in family, but when L’il Jay was eighteen months old, Michele gave him the shock of his life. Asking for a divorce, she told him that although she appreciated what a good father he was and what a good husband he had always been, she was not in love with him and felt if they stayed together, their lives would be miserable. Despite being comfortable in their marriage, Julian could not honestly tell her he was in love with her either. His main concern regarding their breakup had been whether it would affect how much time he could spend with his son.

  Michele and Julian grew to be extremely close friends after their marriage ended. Always diligent with his child support and alimony payments, Julian was never denied the right to see his son. In fact, Michele regularly included him in any special activities L’il Jay took part in and had always kept the lines of communication open in his regard. They had a great respect for one another and because of that, there was nothing Julian wouldn’t do for his ex-wife.

  Later that same afternoon, when Julian returned to his house after dropping L’il Jay back with Michele, he called Stefàn.
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  “What’s up, man?” he asked when the call was answered.

  “Same ol’, same ol’, Dub. You’re going to Dre’s party, right?”

  “Yeah. What time are you heading over there?”

  “About three o’clock. Charisse and her friend, Myra, are coming with me.”

  “Cool. Did Charisse pick up her car?”

  “Yeah, we went riding the night she got it.”

  “You’ve been in it?”

  “Yeah, she picked me up to ride right after she got home with it, and let me drive it, too.”

  “Word?”

  “Yeah, man.”

  “So what’s up? You still think she’s the one?”

  “I don’t know.” He released a long sigh. “You know I’m nowhere near ready to be settling down, but I like this lady a lot!”

  “What you gonna do?”

  “I don’t know. Just hang with her, see where it goes. She makes me laugh. She also makes my nature rise, but that’s another story.”

  Julian laughed and said, “Well, you already know that’s a waste.”

  “I know, right? But I like spending time with her.”

  “You think she’ll want to get hooked up with someone who’s not in the church?” Julian asked.

  “Probably not,” Stefàn solemnly stated.

  “Look, Coop, I know you think if you stepped into a church it would burn down, but maybe she’s a harbinger of change in your life. It’s obvious there’s something she feels for you, too, or you wouldn’t have been driving her car the other night.”

  “I took dinner to her on her job on Wednesday.”

  “Oh, so you’ve seen her a couple of times this week.”

  “Yeah.” Stefàn sighed again. “You know I got a call from Candi last night, but I blew her off. She wasn’t too happy about it, either, but I felt like I’d be cheating on Charisse if I had hooked up with her.”

  “Damn, man, she’s really got you sprung, huh?”

  “No kidding.”

  “Well, I’ma tell you something. I’m glad you’re feeling like this. For a long time I was worried you might never take the chance again. I know how what happened with Janine hurt you, but I’m glad Charisse seems to have the power to expel your demons.”