by Candice Dow
After handing him a tip, I said, “Man, thanks for the prophecy.”
His West Indian accent intensified. “Not prophecy. Just warning.”
“Thanks, man.”
After dashing into the station, grabbing my ticket from the kiosk, and rushing to the gate, I sat on the Acela Express headed to my other hometown. I tilted my head back and breathed. Just as my heart rate decreased, it dawned on me. Damn. I have to call Adrianna.
I dialed her number and left a message. I dialed her several times during the ride. Still no answer. By the time I arrived in DC, I left one more desperate message. I concluded that it was highly possible that I’d be commuting back and forth for the remainder of the week.
As I sat in my hotel room, purchasing my ticket on the all reserved 3:00 train to New York and returning on the 10:00 train, I loosened my tie. When I printed the reservation confirmation, I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror. The clean-cut guy on the outside was no representation of the hurricane swirling inside. I brushed my hair and readjusted my tie. Finally, I tossed my suit jacket over my shoulder and rushed out of the hotel.
When I arrived at the Train Workers’ Union, the hospitality was just what I needed. A friendly receptionist escorted me to a conference room. Fresh cookies, croissants, bagels, juices, a variety of teas, and coffee were there to greet me. I smiled. “Wow, you guys do it big around here,” I said.
She covered her giggle. “Yeah, they do.”
I joked, “If you don’t mind, I think I’ll help myself to this.”
“Be my guest. They’ll be here in a minute.”
I stood over the spread. I wanted everything. Maybe it would appease me somehow. I grabbed a bagel, four cookies, and a blueberry muffin.
I looked at my watch. Where were these people? 10:25 and still I was the only one there for the 10:30 meeting. If I planned to be on the train in time, I had to leave no later than two. The members of the legislative team began trickling in a few minutes later. Another consultant came in. I looked at my watch. Maybe I was the only anxious one. It was 10:35 and I felt like it had been an eternity.
Though we’d had several conference calls, some of us had never met in person. We went around the room for introductions and the presentation began shortly after. The focus of this meeting was to strategize for salary stabilization for workers as a result of increased gas prices.
The young man giving the presentation appeared nervous and flustered. When asked a question, he turned beet red and mumbled. I looked at my watch. Damn if I can afford to have timid responses when we’re trying to make things happen. Suddenly, I found myself taking over his presentation and responding to questions without giving him the opportunity. He didn’t seem to mind. In fact, he looked as if a weight had been lifted from his shoulder. Prior to responding, I’d given him an I-got-it nod. During our first break, the administrative assistant taking the notes approached me.
She extended her hand. “Hi, Mr. Patterson.”
I smiled. “Hi.”
“I’m Katherine. I’m actually the assistant in the legal department. I’m filling in for the legislative team’s assistant.”
I squinted. And why the hell do I care? She chuckled. “You’re really covering a lot in there. Can you slow down?”
I laughed and patted Katherine on the shoulder. “I’m sorry, I’ll slow down.”
She joked, “I would ask if you needed more coffee, but you’re already wound up.”
Since Katherine came off as real down to earth, I reciprocated. “Look, I’m trying to get out of here. They got that young white boy up there fumbling around.”
She cackled loudly. “That’s the truth.”
I looked at my watch. “I need to be out of here by two.”
She frowned. “But the meeting isn’t over until three.”
“I know. I have a 3:00 train back to New York.”
She nodded inquisitively. “You’re not a part of the meetings all week?”
“Yeah. Something came up, so I have to shoot up there this afternoon and come back tonight.”
“That’s a lot.”
I smiled. “I know.”
She smirked. “Must be really important, huh?”
“Yeah, she is.”
She put her hand over her chest. “Your wife?”
“My daughter.”
She laughed, asking, “Are you married?”
“Divorced.”
People began congregating in the room, and we stopped talking. During the meeting, I caught her smiling at me from across the table. Did she think I was interested in her old ass? Why didn’t I say I was married?
When we broke for lunch, she came up to me. “Mr. Patterson, I’m sure you don’t like to mix business with pleasure, but . . .”
“Nah, definitely not.”
She blinked bashfully. “Okay, let me explain.”
As she waved her hand to help with her explanation, I noticed a ring. Good! I’ll just tell her I don’t date married women. She chuckled. “Another young attorney, Taylor Jabowski, she works in our legal department.” She continued to wave her hand wildly. “She’s tall and gorgeous. She’s about your age.”
Taylor walked up. She was tall, white, and bleach blond. She was a size zero and my stomach turned. As I shook my head to erase the vision of Taylor that just tiptoed into my mind, I chuckled. “Nah, I’m really not interested. In fact, I’m in a serious relationship.”
She shrugged her shoulders. “Oh, I’m sorry. I love to play matchmaker.” She bobbed her head from side to side like she felt silly for asking. “Please excuse me.”
Relieved that she wasn’t the one interested, I blushed. “Nah, you’re cool. Don’t worry about it.”
10
TAYLOR
My administrative assistant ran into my office. I peeped behind her to see if she was being chased. My forehead wrinkled. She blushed and fanned herself. “Taylor, girl.”
“What?”
“The man of your dreams is downstairs in the conference room.”
“Katherine, just because there’s a single man in the building does not mean he’s the man of my dreams.” I chuckled. “Where have you been all day?”
She clenched her teeth together. “Downstairs, girl. You need to get your butt down there.”
“What have you been doing down there?”
“I had to fill in for the damn legislative admin.”
“You’re a trip.”
“Girl, this man is fine. Trust me.”
“I’ve trusted you before.”
She lifted her glasses and looked at me. “Don’t even try it. I told you that young boy was cute. And I saw you . . .”
She laughed. I shooed her. “Whatever.”
“Taylor, I know you better than you think I know you.”
“Anyway. Are you done downstairs?” I huffed.
“No, we’re meeting until three. Come down there around one-thirty so you can meet Mr. Patterson.”
“Katherine, I’m not thinking about Mr. Patterson.”
She turned to leave my office. When she reached the door, she leaned back in. “He’s finer than the last guy I told you about.”
“Good bye, Katherine.”
At quarter of three, I got the urge to go downstairs and just check out what Katherine was raving about. I went into the conference room corridor. I peeped in all the closed doors. Finally, I saw her. Through the slim windowpane, I surveyed the room. There weren’t even any black men in the room. Who the hell was she talking about? I saw two white guys that I didn’t recognize. Now, she must think I’m desperate. Just as I was about to walk away, it looked like they were adjourning. I stood in the hall waiting for Katherine.
I jokingly said, “We need to cut out right now and go to happy hour, because you are crazy.” I pointed into the conference room. “Who in there is supposed to be my dream guy?”
“Taylor, you really think I’m crazy, don’t you?”
I stretched my eyes. “Yah!�
��
“He left early. He had to go back to New York with his daughter.”
“His what?”
She grabbed my arm. “C’mon let’s walk to the break room.” She continued, “His daughter.”
I frowned and she added, “What am I going to do with you?”
“Leave me alone and stop trying to find me a man.”
“Trust me. This one is fine.”
As I perused the vending selection, I said. “And he has a daughter. I don’t even deal with my own niece and nephew. Hell if I’m trying to play stepmom.” I chuckled. “I don’t even know if I want kids of my own.”
She nodded. “Yes, you do. All women do.”
“Don’t put us all in a box. Some of us are different.”
She ignored my declaration of independence. “Taylor, I really do want you to meet Mr. Patterson. I think he’ll be back tomorrow.”
“I’ll be out of the office tomorrow and Thursday.”
She gasped. “Dang! You’re going to miss him.”
11
SCOOTER
Speaking in an unacceptable decibel at five o’clock in the morning, Akua stood over top of me, “Why did you leave the television running all night?”
My purpose for sleeping on the couch was so she would not wake me when she left for work. Couldn’t we discuss this when I got to the hospital at seven? I covered my ears. She grabbed my jeans from the floor and stomped away. She spoke to herself loud enough for me to hear, “He doesn’t think. Does he even look at the electric bill? This is ridiculous.”
I pulled the quilt over my head. Like, really. How much does it cost to run the television all night? It’s easier to ignore her, than to respond. Slinging things around the room, she continued to argue. Finally, I yelled out, “Akua, shut up! I’m tryna sleep.”
She stormed from the room. “I wanted to sleep too, but you”—she pointed her index finger at me—“left the television on all night.”
I sprang up. “Are you satisfied now? Are you happy that I’m up?”
She stormed back into the room. “That’s not the point. I want you to pay attention to what you’re doing.”
Does she even realize how ignorant some of the things she says sound? I stomped behind her in my mind. In reality, my knees conked out and pushed me back onto the couch. Lacking the energy to bicker, I dropped my head in my hands. Slowly, I wiped my face. “What makes you think I’m not paying attention?”
When she didn’t respond, I knew my voice was too low for her to hear. After a few deeps breaths, I staggered into the room. “Why don’t you come out there and cut it off for me if it bothers you that bad?”
I plopped on the bed. She stomped around me throwing her scrubs and clean underwear on the bed beside me. Her neck moved in the same zigzag motion as her pointed finger. “My man shouldn’t be out there every night. You should be in here with me.”
Too exhausted to sympathize with her, I stretched out on the bed and huffed, “Akua, don’t even try it.”
She headed to the bathroom and yelled, “Go to hell!”
I chuckled at her last words. She slammed the bathroom door, and I was asleep by the time she finished.
When I got to the hospital, my head was still throbbing. As I reviewed my charts, I winced. My attending physician stood beside me, “Is everything okay?”
I nodded. Damn. I had two surgeries with Akua. Her nasty moods last all day. I sighed. The first surgery was scheduled for 9:30. I checked the clock on the wall. Should I try and catch her between surgeries just to settle our beef? As I got into the mix, time slipped away. Akua and I ran into each other, both running a few minutes behind schedule.
She surprised me with a stiff peck on the lips. “Hey, Doc.”
“Hey, baby.”
She laughed. “Did you turn the lights off in the house?”
“Don’t start that shit with me this morning.”
After we scrubbed down we headed into the operating room. I thought she said something, so I asked, “What?”
She smirked. “Don’t start with me.”
I put my finger up to my mouth. Last thing we needed was to walk into the OR in the middle of a squabble. I smiled. She didn’t. The nurses had already prepped the patient. I asked my required questions and told the patient what I’d be doing. Finally, I did my part, and the patient drifted off into a deep slumber. My attending physician gave me a nod of approval. I nodded back in appreciation.
It takes a certain kind of arrogance to perform surgery. Every time I watch her with that scalpel, it scares me. Her adrenaline pumps through her veins, but her hands remain steady and focused. This was one of the few things that excited her. I stand there studying her and she doesn’t even realize I’m here. She and her patient are the only people in the room.
Nearing the end of the surgery, the patient squirmed. Akua’s eyes pierced through me. Without exchanging words, I knew she was furious. I bit my lips. C’mon, man. Stay asleep for five more minutes. My fists tightened, as I prayed. Thankfully, Akua said, “All done.”
I uncrossed my fingers, my legs, and my arms. That was a close one. As we exited the operating room, I heard someone with an accent say, “You need to get your shit together.”
I turned around to my girl’s stony look. I frowned. I can respect her style, but not in front of my colleagues. I’d obviously misjudged his weight and didn’t give him enough to last the length of the surgery, but did I really need her smart-ass mouth? That had nothing to do with getting my shit together.
On my way into the second surgery, she chuckled, adding, “Don’t mess up in here, too, Doc.”
I frowned at her and didn’t comment. During the surgery, I found myself reflecting on how we’d gotten to the point that Akua felt she could say whatever she wanted to me. Why did I settle? Maybe I concluded I should take the good with the bad, but is her bad really worth her good? When the surgery was done, we scrubbed down and I still didn’t say anything. I couldn’t help thinking about Taylor.
12
TAYLOR
The phone startled me as I coasted down the highway in a daze. I looked at the caller ID. I smiled when I saw my little sister’s name. “Hey Turi. What’s up, girl?”
If she hadn’t dialed me, her monotone voice would have made me question if she even wanted to talk. “Hey, Tay.”
“When you coming home?”
She sighed. “Dunno. Maybe Thanksgiving.”
“Maybe?”
She snickered. “Yes. Maybe.”
“So, are you trying to disown us?”
“Look who’s talking.”
“They disowned me. What am I supposed to do?”
She laughed again. “Nobody has disowned you.” She kidded, “They’re just concerned about your spirituality.”
“Whatever, Turi.”
“For real. They pray for you like you’re the devil himself.”
“Shut up. Just cause I don’t go to their church doesn’t mean I’m a devil.”
“You’re right,” she agreed. “Enough about that, you know they love you all the same. What’s going on in your life?”
“Nothing.”
“I heard that you been talking to Scooter.”
“Who told you that? Mommy?”
She teased. “I can’t reveal my sources.”
“It had to be Mommy.”
“Psych. It was Toni.” She laughed. “She said you would have thought God walked in the church when they saw Scooter.”
“Stop playing, Turi.”
“Look, I’m only telling you what I heard.”
I laughed. “What did she say?”
Why are the religious ones the biggest gossipers? She hummed to expand my curiosity. I begged, “What did she say?”
“She said he was fine as ever.”
I gasped. “Tell me about it.”
“So have y’all hooked up since he went to church?”
How was I to explain I’d been awaiting his call for over a month
? Acting as if it wasn’t so serious, I said, “No. You know he lives in Connecticut.”
“Between Mommy and Toni, they got all the info. They know all his vital statistics. Mommy got you on the prayer list.”
“Turi, Mommy is crazy.”
She laughed. “Taylor, don’t miss your blessing. You better start praying, too.”
“Whatever.”
“You better recognize the power of prayer.”
“All right, Daddy Junior.”
“Whatever, I’m on my way to Bible Study. I was just calling to see if you want me to add you to our prayer circle.”
I snapped, “Turi, I’m not a charity case. I don’t need y’all praying for me to find a man.”
“A husband, Taylor. We’re not praying for you to just find a man.”
I laughed. “I don’t believe y’all.”
“Contrary to what you believe, we love you.”
“I never said y’all didn’t love me. I know you love me.”
“So does Toni.”
“Yeah okay, Mother Theresa.” I chuckled. “I guess that’s why you’re the one who was called into the ministry.”
She laughed. “Yeah, cause my big sisters are crazy.”
“Forget you.”
Just as I was pressing the END button, my phone beeped. Assuming it was Courtney, I didn’t bother checking the caller ID. I clicked over and said, “Hey.”
“Hey. It’s Scooter.”
Oh shit. My heart dropped. I looked at the cloudy sky. Powerful was an understatement, prayer was the bomb! Before I could respond to his greeting, I mouthed, “Thank you, Jesus.”
Then I took a silent deep breath and cleared my throat. “Hey Scooter. What’s up?”
He immediately began to spit excuses as to why he hadn’t called. “I’ve been under a rock since I got back from Maryland. They have me working like a slave.”
Just as I was tempted to roll my eyes, I thought about the Angel that called to forewarn me that my blessing was coming. I responded pleasantly, “Yeah, I know how it is. I’ve been working a lot lately too.”
He sighed. “Plus . . .” He paused.
My mouth hung open, waiting for him to crush me. When it didn’t come out fast enough, I snapped, “Plus what?”