Destination Wedding

by Jacqueline J. Holness

  “I agree with my wife,” Richie said with too hearty of a laugh. “Back off, Senalda! Mimi may be seeing someone.”

  “She’s not. She’s very single,” Senalda said, as if Mimi couldn’t speak for herself.

  “Will you stop tellin’ my bizness?” Mimi finally said as loudly as she should at a dinner table. “I thought this was Thanksgiving dinner, not ‘Hook Up Mimi Night’!”

  “I’m sorry Victor,” Whitney said. “Please excuse my friends. They forget to be on their best behavior when there are new people around.”

  “That’s okay, ma. Just glad to be in the company of good people on Thanksgiving Day,” Victor said in his heavy Brooklyn accent with a smile.

  Senalda raised an eyebrow and looked at Whitney.

  “So you’re from New York?” Senalda said.

  “Brooklyn baby,” Victor confirmed.

  “I’m from the Bronx,” Senalda said.

  “I knew you were a home girl,” Victor said with a laugh.

  “So Victor, I’ve been trying to figure out where I know you from because you look so familiar,” Jarena said with her fork in the air.

  Mimi looked down.

  “Are you? Oh yeah, you’re… Oh, forget it.” Jarena said. She put her fork back on her plate, preparing to fill her mouth with food.

  “Yeah, I used to be an erotic dancer with the Hot Boyz, but I’m an addictions counselor now,” Victor said looking directly at Jarena.

  “What?” Senalda and Whitney said at the same time. Richie told Whitney Victor was an addictions counselor, but he neglected to tell her about Victor’s previous profession.

  “I apologize, Victor,” Jarena said, “I wasn’t trying to make you feel uncomfortable.”

  “I’m not ashamed of my past, ma,” he said. “My past is helping me to become the man I am today.”

  “Well, that is why you are so fine,” Senalda ultimately said with a laugh after recovering from her surprise.

  • • •

  As soon as the women were alone cleaning up the kitchen, Senalda pounced. “Okay, so why is Richie hanging out with a former-stripper-slash-addictions counselor?”

  Mimi discreetly slipped out of the room and headed for the bathroom. As she walked down the hall, Richie pulled her to him.

  “Hey, come to my darkroom downstairs,” he said, her hand in his. “I got some photographs I wanted to show you.”

  Mimi followed Richie into the basement where he showed her photographs he had taken of people at different Atlanta locales. Photographs of homeless people. Children. At Dr. Martin Luther King Jr.’s last home on Sunset Avenue. MARTA stations. The DeKalb Farmers Market.

  “Richie, you really talented,” she said. She looked through the pictures, taking time to study each one.

  “Thanks,” he said. “I hope so, because I’m going to tell Whitney that I want to start my photography business.”

  “I don see why she would have a problem with dat,” Mimi said.

  “I don’t want to be a doctor anymore, either,” Richie also revealed, staring at her.

  “Oh,” Mimi said. It was suddenly clear that Whitney was not, in fact, going to like that. She also suddenly realized that she was alone with her friend’s husband in their basement. “Hmmm… Hey Richie, I’m gonna head back upstairs before the girls miss me.”

  “Okay, I guess I will see you at a meeting then, program buddy,” Richie said brightly, not noticing her discomfort.

  When Mimi got back to the kitchen, it seemed she hadn’t missed a beat.

  “I’m still trying to figure out how Richie knows Victor,” Senalda said as soon as she walked in the door. “Richie’s hanging out with a former stripper, and he’s growing dreads. What’s next?”

  For the third time that evening, Mimi kept uncharacteristically quiet while helping the women put the food away.

  Mimi

  The Saturday after Thanksgiving, I finally I took my girls’ advice and let Dr. Ian take me out again. I was tired of being alone at home when I wasn’t at meetings. Richie was walking with me to my car after a meeting when my cell phone rang.

  “Hey, Dr. Ian,” I said.

  “I’m off on a Saturday night finally, and I thought I would ask you out,” he said. “Are you doing anything later?”

  “I got a date with my couch.” I laughed at my joke.

  “Could you break your date and come out with me instead?”

  “Alrighty.” I smiled as if he could see me.

  “Pick you up at 7?”

  “See you then.”

  “Are you dating?” Richie said, studying me as he leaned against my Jeep next to me.

  “Not sho yet.”

  “But you’re going out on a date with a Dr. Ian?” he continued.

  “I know.”

  “I thought program suggests that newcomers don’t date for a year.”

  “I aine dating this guy,” I said. “I went out with him once a few months ago, and I didn’t even like him. So we just hangin’ out tonight. What do you care? You’re worse than Victor.”

  “I couldn’t be that bad,” he said with a grin. “Okay, tell me how your ‘hanging out’ goes!”

  “You know I will,” I said, hitting him in the shoulder.

  • • •

  Unlike Jovan, Dr. Ian got to my place exactly when he said he would. Jovan had the worst habit of underestimating what time he could get anywhere in the city. Stop comparing every other man who tries to holla at you to Jovan, I said to myself as I walked to the door and opened it.

  “You look beautiful,” Dr. Ian said.

  “Really?” I asked, looking down at my fitted white T-shirt under a knit poncho and jeans. I felt underdressed. We scheduled the date so quick I forgot to ask where we were going. Dr. Ian was dressed in a brown tweed blazer, a crème button-down shirt, and brown slacks. For a second I wondered what he looked like without his glasses. Even with them he looked cute, if geeks were yo thang.

  “So where we going?” I figured his answer was gon be boring so maybe it was good that I was wearing a T-shirt and jeans. Least I’ll be comfortable when I fall asleep this time.

  “I thought we could stop by Apache Café and hear some live music and maybe stop by The Varsity and get some greasy food.”

  “I haven’t been there since it was Yin Yang,” I said. “What does a doctor know ’bout Apache Café and The Varsity?”

  “Let’s get this straight first: I’m just Ian right now, not Dr. Ian,” he said. “And just because I’m a doctor doesn’t mean I don’t have a life outside of a hospital.”

  “My bad,” I said. “That’s cool that you like live music. But you know you’re overdressed to go to Apache Café unless it’s different than the Yin Yang used to be.”

  “I know.” He laughed as he pushed up his glasses on his nose. “I need some regular clothes. I’m just always working, so I really haven’t had time to shop.”

  “The buttoned-down look fits you though, and I love your glasses,” I said, trying to be nice.

  Ian held all the doors open for me and helped me into his black Volvo as if I was delicate as one of my locs. I still didn’t feel any chemistry with him, but I had to admit it felt good to know he was into me. And since I thought he was just cool, there was no chance for him to hurt me, even if he tried.

  Although the name was now Apache Café, it still had the Yin Yang flavor. Since it was a hole-in-the-wall type spot, the size of the club made the artistic vibe real strong because everyone was so close. With all of the industry parties I had to attend at the slickest and the largest clubs for various appearances, I didn’t have time to check out more arty spots. I didn’t know how much I missed the vibe until the band started playing and I was nearly close enough to see my reflection in the instruments. And as the band kept playing, I started hearing my own melodies in my head. I closed my eyes to focus.

  “Having a good time?” Ian’s breath flooded my ear.

  I nodded with my eyes still closed. I miss si
nging.

  “You know I used to sing before I was a deejay,” I said, opening my eyes and looking at Ian.

  “For real?” he said. “I used to be a drummer in a band in college before I went to medical school.”

  “Yeah, right,” I said with a chuckle.

  “I’m not lying,” he said. “I was the drummer for a band called Danger when I was in undergrad at FAMU.”

  “I was a singer when I was going to Clark Atlanta, but I couldn’t make anything happen so I got into radio instead,” I said. “It was all good before I got fired from KISS earlier this year.”

  “Yeah, I heard about that,” he said. “I thought about calling you but I didn’t know if you wanted to hear from me then.”

  “I’m glad we ran into each other again,” I said, and I was, actually. “Yeah, I got fired over some mess, but you probably know all of the details since they were in the paper.”

  “Don’t even worry about that,” he said, putting his hand on mine. I tensed up, preparing to move my hand, but then I didn’t.

  “So what’s your next move?” he asked.

  “I’ve been thinking about trying to write some songs. I used to write my own music, and now that I have some industry contacts, I might give it a try.”

  “You should,” he said with an encouraging smile.

  In all of the time I spent with Jovan, I never mentioned my songwriting to him, even though he knew some of the hottest songwriters in the industry. I was cool with being physically naked around him, but I didn’t feel comfortable sharing some of what was going on inside of me. It was easier to be myself around Ian because I didn’t have that thang for him, I told myself.

  • • •

  As Ian drove me home later that night, I dozed, but not because I was bored. My belly was full of chili dogs slathered with mustard and onions from The Varsity. Once we got into the driveway in front of my building, he woke me up.

  “We’re back at your place,” he said gently.

  “Thanks,” I said, fluffing out my locs and reaching for the door handle to let myself out.

  “I’ll get your door, Mimi, but I want to tell you something first,” he said, reaching over me to stop me from getting out.

  “Okay,” I said, my eyebrows scrunching together.

  “I don’t want to scare you away, but I believe this my second chance to get you to be mine,” he said. “And I do want you to be mine, Mimi. I’m going to do everything I can to make that happen. You don’t have to say anything about it tonight. I just wanted you to know.”

  I’m glad he aine want me to say anything because I aine have nothin’ to say after that.

  He got out of the car and opened the door for me. Then, he walked me up to my condo and hugged me at the door.

  “Call you tomorrow,” he said. I half-smiled at him and closed the door. I still couldn’t think of anythang to say, even to myself.

  CHAPTER 13

  December

  Senalda

  NASHAUN GIGGLED AS I walked by her desk.

  “What’s up with you? You’ve been acting weird all day.” I crossed my arms, staring down at her.

  “What do you mean, Mizz Warner?” Nashaun said, looking up at me as her eyes got bigger. “It’s just a regular ole Wednesday. Just happy to be working for the bestest boss in the whole world!”

  “If you say so, but I’m watching you,” I said with a laugh outside of my office.

  Nashaun giggled again. I opened the door to find my office was dark, except for lit candles on my desk, the floor, and everywhere I turned, and soft music was playing too. My desk chair swung around suddenly and Dexter was sitting there.

  “Dexter, what are you doing here?” I closed my door behind me.

  “I wanted to surprise you, Sen.” He got up and hugged me. “I’ve been missing you. And since you’ve been dodging me, I figured I’d show up here. You can’t dodge me at work.”

  “What’s this all about?” I sat down on my couch. And then it hit me. The slow diss has worked. This is his grand gesture. I leaned back and folded my arms across my chest to take it all in. And then he dropped to his knees in front of me. I uncrossed my arms, sat up straight and put my hands on the couch, squeezing the cushions.

  “I don’t want to spend another holiday without you, Sen,” he said as he kissed my cheek. “You’re right. We should get married. But I’ve got to tell you something first.”

  “YES!” I put my arms around his neck. “My answer is YES!”

  “Wait, wait, hold up.” He pulled my arms from around his neck and leaned back. His eyes stared straight into mine.

  “This is hard for me,” Dexter said before taking a long breath. “When I moved back home from Miami, I decided that I wanted to meet the woman I would marry. I had no idea it would be a woman I already knew. It happened so fast… But I need to tell you something first…”

  “What is it?” I leaned forward.

  “I’m trying to tell you… I’ve… I’ve… had a situation with a man before… But I’ve put all that behind me because I want to be with you.”

  “A situation? What do you mean by that?”

  Dexter said nothing.

  “Do you mean you’ve been with a man before? Tell me that’s not what you mean!”

  He still said nothing, so I continued.

  “All this time, I thought I was getting a ladies’ man but you’re a ladies’ man and gentlemen’s man too!” I spat.

  “I didn’t deserve that,” Dexter said quietly, looking down.

  “Like I deserve this!”

  “I’ve only been with one man, but I’ve never felt this way about anyone else,” Dexter said, lifting his head. “And I’ve been faithful to you the whole time, and I will be faithful to you for the rest of our lives. I want start a family with you… I know I should have said something in the beginning, but it all so happened so fast, and you wanted it to go even faster.”

  I stood up to walk away but stopped when Dexter reached in his pocket, pulled out a ring box and opened it. Although it was dark, I could see the sparkle of the square solitaire diamond and platinum ring. I could have probably picked out the ring myself. Figures.

  “What the what?” I sat down again. “You’re gay, but you’re proposing to me?”

  “You don’t love me?” He took my hands and put them on his soft lips.

  “Yes, I do.” I commanded my tears away and continued. “But I don’t want to marry a gay man. I can’t do that. I’m sorry.”

  “But I’m not gay. Bisexual maybe. But not gay.” Dexter sighed, got up off of his knees, turned on the lights, and blew out the candles before he came back to where I sat. The soft music continued to play. I finally realized it was “Take Off the Blues” by The Foreign Exchange. I remembered the name of the song because Mimi used to talk about it all of the time when it came out. She said it was the best slow jam since Keith Sweat’s “Make It Last Forever.”

  “I thought I should be honest with you.” His voice got deeper, as if he was going to lecture me. “Women always say they want an honest man, but when they get one, they can’t handle the truth. I love you enough to be completely honest with you.”

  He kissed me hard, like his lips could erase what he just told me. “Baby, we could be great together,” he said, his forehead still touching mine, “a powerful couple in our city. Don’t mess it up because of something in the past.”

  His words stoked something in me, but I couldn’t reconcile the two sides of him, at least right then. Competing with women for a man didn’t intimidate me, but even I, who prided myself on never backing down from a competition, knew I wasn’t equipped to compete with men for a man. Theoretically, that could happen. I just didn’t want to acquire new rules of engagement to get engaged and married.

  As if he could read my mind, Dexter placed the ring box on my desk. “After you think things through, call me,” he said, while opening the door, letting cool air in. “I’m not an average brother. I think you know that
.”

  The door opened to reveal Nashaun and other assistants holding up a banner with the word “Congratulations!” which they began to yell as Dexter exited, walking past them without saying a word.

  “Y’all, put down that banner,” Nashaun screamed.

  I didn’t even bother to close the door. I just sat there for a few minutes, staring at nothing. Finally, I picked up my purse and the ring box and walked out of my office.

  “Nashaun, clean up those candles and everything else. I’m taking the rest of the day off,” I said as I passed by her desk, not looking back.

  As hot as if I had a fever, I drove straight home, put on my pajamas and got in bed. I went to sleep, hoping I would wake up hours later and realize what happened had just been a nightmare. But when I woke up that evening in the dark, I realized had I said yes to Dexter, I would have been able to marry him in a quickie wedding before the New Year and my Destination Wedding dream could have been a reality. Instead, I shivered alone in the dark.

  Jarena

  From the moment I knew Barry was in town, I felt on guard but also pulled to him, like Atlanta had become a magnetic field. For the first week he was here, he was, thankfully, tied up in meetings and getting his living arrangements together. I was busy too, studying to take final exams.

  And then, in the middle of the second week he was in Atlanta, he asked if we could meet after work. I said yes, but as I drove to meet him at Café Intermezzo in Buckhead, I contemplated making up an excuse and bailing. Barry was wearing a double-breasted black leather coat that swung from his basketball-player build. He made winter look good. His summer tan had faded, and the contrast between his light skin and sky-blue eyes made them sparkle. I detected the beginning of a few slight wrinkles around his eyes, but they only confirmed Barry was no longer the cute boy I met in college. He could now easily qualify for any of those misnomer “grown and sexy” parties folk were always having in the A nowadays, except he was actually “grown and sexy” instead of grown and fat.

  I hoped he thought I looked nice too. I had plaited my hair the night before and didn’t pull them out until just before I left my house to meet him. My Afro was huge and wavy. I wore a red sweater-dress with black tights and patent leather Mary Jane pumps. As he hugged me, I remembered how nice it was to feel small in the arms of a six-foot-two man.