Forever An Ex

by Victoria Christopher Murray

  “Yeah, we can pray, but my prayer is gonna be that you come to your senses,” Kendall said. “Pray over her and let that child go. And if it’s that big of a deal and you can’t stand to be separated, just move to New York, too.”

  Then the three of us stood there quietly for a moment.

  Kendall seemed the most surprised at her own words. “Yeah,” she said, as if she was warming to that idea. “Why don’t you just move to New York with her?”

  Sheridan looked at me as if she thought that was brilliant.

  “I can’t . . . move to New York.”

  “Why not?” Sheridan and Kendall asked together.

  Kendall added, “You got a job that you didn’t tell us about?”

  I gave her the squinty eye—the look that was meant to tell her to shut up before I gave her a beat-down. The problem was, Kendall wasn’t afraid of me, so she gave me the look right back.

  Then Sheridan said, “That is a thought, Asia. What about you moving to New York?”

  I sighed, but didn’t say a word. I didn’t want to move to New York. I’d been born and raised in Los Angeles and this was all I knew. “What would I do in New York?”

  “The same thing that you do in L.A. . . . nothing,” Kendall said.

  I really wanted to take Kendall right there. Just drop her to the sand and hold her head underwater. But the thing was, even though Kendall was seven years older than me, she was in such good shape, she’d flip the script and I’d be the one drowning in the Pacific.

  “I don’t know anyone in New York,” I said to Sheridan as if Kendall wasn’t even there. “It would be scary.”

  “Well, what’s scarier . . . having Angel in New York without you, or you and Angel doing this together?” Kendall asked, ignoring the fact that I was ignoring her.

  But even though I wasn’t trying to hear her, I had to pause. Kendall was right; I’d be there with Angel.

  “It’s something to think about,” Sheridan said as she grabbed my hand and pulled me along.

  For the next few minutes, we were all silent, trudging through the sand. I’m sure Sheridan and Kendall were thinking that they’d come up with a grand solution, but they were wrong. If my girls didn’t want to help me the way I needed to be helped, I’d just have to figure this out myself.

  Then, all of a sudden, Kendall said, “My father’s surgery is today.”

  She might as well have been giving a weather report, that’s how casual she was.

  “What!” Sheridan exclaimed before I could. Both of us stopped walking, even though Kendall kept on moving.

  Then Sheridan and I shouted together, “Kendall!”

  Finally, she turned around and looked at us like we were the ones with a problem.

  I stomped through the sand until I was in her face. “You were supposed to tell us when this was happening,” I said, all thoughts of my issues totally out of my mind. Right now it was all about Kendall and her dad.

  A few days before Christmas, Kendall had told me and Sheridan that her father had been diagnosed with breast cancer. I didn’t believe it at first. I thought it was just a ploy by her dad to get Kendall to have Christmas dinner with him. I mean, I’d never heard of a man having that kind of cancer.

  But the day before New Year’s, when Sheridan, Kendall, and I had our last prayer meeting of 2013, Kendall schooled me and Sheridan, and I was shocked to find out that while it was one hundred times less common in men than women, about two thousand men were diagnosed with breast cancer each year.

  Kendall’s dad had stage two, so she’d told us that he was going to have a mastectomy and that was going to be followed up by chemotherapy. And we’d told Kendall then that we would be there on the day of her dad’s surgery and for all of his chemotherapy treatments, too.

  “So what time’s his operation?” Sheridan asked.

  “At noon.”

  Sheridan and I looked at our watches at the same time.

  “Well then, we better get going,” Sheridan said, turning back toward the parking lot.

  I followed her. “Yeah, I just need to go home, shower, and change. And then we can all meet at Kendall’s. Or should we go straight to the hospital?”

  “Let’s do Kendall . . .”

  Sheridan stopped; we looked at each other before we turned around. We’d moved, but this time it was Kendall who was standing still.

  “No,” she said, holding up her hand.

  “No, what?” I asked.

  “I don’t want you at the hospital.”

  “Kendall,” Sheridan said, marching back to her, “we want to be there.”

  “I know, but the best way you can help me is to stay home and pray.”

  Now, here’s the thing—Kendall and I fought all the time. But it was more like a sibling thing; I could beat her up, but I wasn’t going to let anybody or anything bring her down.

  I stomped over to Kendall. “I don’t care what you say; we’re going to be right there. We’ll just pray in that hospital.”

  At first, Kendall glared at me, but then, in the next instant, she threw her arms around my neck, making me stumble backward a bit. She hugged me so tightly, and I held her, too. Over Kendall’s shoulders I saw Sheridan’s eyes fill up.

  I was touched by this, too, ’cause the thing about Kendall is that she never showed any emotion. So, I just held her, but it only lasted a few seconds.

  She backed away, wiped her eyes, and said, “Look, you know I love you both, right?”

  We nodded.

  “So, you’ve got to let me do this my way. Stay home. I promise, I’ll call you.” She paused when I crossed my arms. “I promise, okay?”

  I was still ready to tell her no. I wanted to protest and ask Kendall why did she have to be so stubborn? Why did she always have to be the strong one? I wanted to shake her until her brain rattled and she agreed to let me and Sheridan be there with her.

  But I had a feeling that no matter what bodily harm I threatened, Kendall would rather lose a limb than give in. This was her world right now, and she was making the rules.

  She reached out her hands, and Sheridan took her left and I took her right. Then, with Kendall in the middle, the three of us plodded slowly through the sand, back toward the parking lot. I’d come to the beach with a heavy heart and I was leaving with one, too.

  Just now my own thoughts were beyond me. My heart was heavy for my friend.

  Chapter

  Six

  So, if you’re not trying to get him into bed and have his baby, why’re you doing this?” Noon asked.

  All I could do was sigh. Two days ago, I’d finally taken Noon’s call, and of course I’d had to tell her all that had gone down with Bobby. She was a better best friend than I ever thought ’cause she didn’t rub it in my face that she’d been right.

  But even though Bobby wasn’t into me, that didn’t seem to concern Noon. She still said, “So that just means that you have to go to Plan B.”

  “Are you kidding me? He doesn’t want me.”

  “Of course he wants you. He just doesn’t know it. Men are like children. You have to direct them, guide them, nurture them. Once you become pregnant, I’m telling you, Bobby will be all yours.”

  She spoke with such confidence that if I didn’t know better, I would’ve been convinced. But she was wrong on so many levels. Level 1: She assumed that I could actually get Bobby in bed enough times to get pregnant. Level 2: That I would get pregnant. Level 3: That said pregnancy would be the reason why Bobby would come to his senses and come back to me.

  But it wasn’t going to happen. I was smart enough to just take the wonderful parting gift I’d received—our daughter—and get over it, and over him.

  That’s what I’d told Noon that day and that’s what I told her now. “I don’t even like him like that anymore.”

 
She laughed as if I’d just done a Def Comedy Jam routine. “Yeah, right. So then if it’s not about him, why’re you meeting up with Bobby and Caroline?”

  “For Angel. I want her to think that I’m really considering New York.”

  “But, uh . . . at some point you’re gonna still tell her no.”

  “But, with her sitting with me and her father . . .”

  “And don’t forget Caroline,” Noon just had to add.

  I ignored my friend. “Angel’ll hear all of my reasons, and after a calm discussion, she’ll understand.”

  Noon sucked her teeth. “I wouldn’t do it. If you’re not trying to get him in bed, then what’s the point?”

  “Angel! Pure and simple, so let me go on and get in here.”

  “You’re there already?”

  “Girl, I was here when I called you,” I said, looking across the street at Spago. “I just didn’t want to go in.”

  “You should’ve let me come with you,” Noon said.

  “I wish,” I said, sighing and smiling at the same time. Noon was my girl, my ride or die. If Caroline acted up, Noon would beat her down. “But what reason could I give for my best friend being part of a family meeting?”

  “We could’ve just told them that I was your new boo.”

  I laughed. “I don’t think Bobby will believe that since he knows you.”

  “True that, but then again, we don’t have to give that heffa and her husband no reason. I can be there just because that’s what I do,” Noon said, with her Compton attitude spilling out.

  Yeah, I could definitely see Noon rolling up to this five-star Beverly Hills restaurant and going straight ghetto. If Angel wasn’t going to be there, I would’ve considered it. “Anyway, I’ll call you after.”

  “Or call me before if you need your girl to handle anything.”

  I clicked off the phone, and as I made the U-turn and pulled up to the valet stand, I said a quick prayer of thanks, ’cause everybody didn’t have a Noon in their life. And then I said a different prayer of gratitude for Sheridan and Kendall ’cause everybody didn’t have friends like them either.

  Even with what she was going through, every day, Kendall called me, asking how I was doing when all the focus should have been on her. But after she told us that her father had made it through his surgery just fine, she didn’t want to talk about it anymore. She’d already told us that he had a long road of chemotherapy ahead that wasn’t going to start for another four to six weeks. That’s all Kendall would say.

  But I knew what that meant—for the next four to six weeks, Kendall was gonna be all over me. I mean, don’t get it twisted, I knew my girl thought she was doing the right thing, calling to check on me. It was just that every time she called, she was still talking that crap about me getting on a plane to New York with Angel.

  I’d stopped fighting her, stopped telling her that wasn’t going to happen, stopped saying anything. But I was about to shut this whole New York idea down. That’s what this meeting was about.

  Stepping out of my car, I sauntered toward the restaurant just in case Bobby and Caroline and Angel were sitting by a window. I felt like crap, but no one would know. I’d dressed for success. Not only was I wearing a Fendi leather pants suit, but I wore my biggest diamond-studded hoops, my diamond choker necklace, and just for good measure, I wore the four-carat diamond ring that Bobby had given me. I hadn’t had this ring on my finger since the day I’d taken it off six years ago. But this morning, it was the first thing I’d decided to wear.

  When I stepped into the restaurant, the hostess walked right up to me.

  “How’re you, Ms. Ingrum?”

  “Great,” I said, wishing I’d remembered the young girl’s name. It had been a while since I’d been to Spago, and I’d missed it because Wolfgang Puck was one of my favorite people. Bobby had introduced us years ago.

  But once we’d broken up, I wasn’t interested in hanging out where Bobby might be. Wasn’t interested in running into him and the woman who’d made him toss me to the side.

  Following the hostess, I strolled as if my heart wasn’t pounding. It was a good thing that Angel was going to be here. This had been Bobby’s weekend, and so right after this dinner, Angel would be going home with me.

  The hostess and I rounded a corner . . . and there was Bobby . . . and Caroline. The closer I got to the table, the deeper the lines set in my forehead.

  “Hey, Asia,” Bobby said, greeting me with a hug that was nothing like the last time he’d held me in his arms.

  My greeting to him: “Where’s Angel?”

  “I called Ms. Martinez and asked her to pick her up from my house.” He motioned for me to have a seat across from them. “Caroline and I thought it would be better if the three of us discussed this first.”

  “First?” I asked. My eyes stayed on Bobby as if his wife wasn’t even there. “You’ve already brought Angel into this.”

  But then Caroline forced me to look at her. “You’re right,” she said. “We should’ve never talked to Angel before we discussed this with you.”

  What I wanted to know was, why was Caroline even here? But I kept that attitude to myself because the one thing I could say about Bobby’s wife was that she treated my daughter well; I couldn’t hate on that.

  So, I gave her a half smile, half smirk.

  Then she added, “And I want to apologize for even mentioning this to you on Christmas.”

  I didn’t accept her apology because she didn’t mean it. There were so many other things she needed to apologize for, and she needed to step up and acknowledge it.

  But Caroline didn’t say anything else. So, I just looked at her, smirked again, then lifted my hands to the table. And with my right hand, I twisted the ring on the third finger of my left hand.

  Right away Caroline’s gaze went to where I wanted it to be, and I could see the heat rise beneath her skin. Sure, my ring could’ve been given to me by anyone, but Caroline’s instincts were like mine. She knew that Bobby had placed this ring on my finger.

  I didn’t have her man now, but I’d had him once. And not only was Angel a constant reminder of that, but today this ring would remind her, too.

  “Well, now that we’ve apologized, let’s talk,” Bobby said.

  “And since Angel isn’t here, I can get right to my answer.” I paused because I wanted Bobby and his wife to hear me clearly. “No.” I looked Bobby dead in his eyes. “Angel’s not moving to New York.”

  Right then the waiter walked up and asked if I was ready to place my drink order. I waved him away, though it was hard to do. I was dying to have a champagne cocktail as well as the filet mignon tartare. But breaking bread with Bobby and Caroline was as attractive as getting a Novocain-less root canal. I’d said what I’d come to say and it was time for me to bounce.

  When the waiter walked away, Bobby said, “I think you need to hear what we’re thinking before you say no.”

  I sat back in the chair, crossed my arms, but did it so my left hand could still be seen. I did it so that ring still glittered, still caught Caroline’s eye. And, the way she kept looking at my ring, then up at me, then back at my ring made me think about calling that waiter back. Maybe I would stay awhile.

  “Asia,” Bobby began, “Angel has been talking about going to this school for a couple of years.”

  “Yes.” Caroline jumped in as if I would even consider her opinion. “I think she was about eight when she first told me about it.”

  I narrowed my eyes at her. Really? Angel had told her about that school?

  I really wanted to ask her what was she trying to do. But I knew that asking wouldn’t get me an honest answer, but listening might.

  Bobby said, “What we were thinking is that we would move to New York so that Angel could spend her last year of middle school there.”

  “And this w
ay,” Caroline piped in, “she would have no problem being accepted at the School of the Performing Arts.”

  Their lips were moving as if I hadn’t already said no.

  “We know it would be hard on you, so we would do everything we could to make sure she came home on as many weekends as possible,” Bobby said.

  “And we would understand if you wanted her for all the holidays,” Caroline added.

  What were these people talking about? This was my child. I set the rules.

  “The point is, we’d work it so that it would work for everyone. For Angel with school,” Bobby said.

  “And for you”—Caroline paused—“as her mother.” She gave me a tiny smile.

  The two spoke like a tag-team, as if they’d rehearsed. But I could tell that Caroline hadn’t liked her last line. Bobby had probably told her to say it.

  Bobby said, “I think as parents, we have to do whatever we can to help our children reach their greatest heights. I remember how my parents let me go to basketball camp every single summer. I found out later that they’d taken out all kinds of loans so that I could do it.”

  “But obviously, we don’t have to do that,” Caroline said. “All we have to do is make it all accessible to Angel . . . and be supportive of her.”

  I had been listening, going from one to the other, but now I had to say, “I’ve always been supportive of my daughter.” As I spoke, I tapped my left hand against my right arm. “And, I always will be.”

  My eyes were on Caroline and her eyes were on my ring. My hope was that the sunlight that shone from the outside hit my ring at the perfect angle. And maybe, just maybe, Caroline would be blinded by it. Literally.

  “Of course,” Bobby said. He was such a man; he was totally oblivious to what was going on between me and his wife. “You’ve done an amazing job raising Angel. It’s because of you that she even has goals. So, I understand that this would be hard. I just want you to know that if you agree, we’ll do everything we can to work it out.”

  I said, “Okay, let’s say that I were to go along with this.”