Destination Wedding

by Jacqueline J. Holness

  As Senalda placed vases of flowers on each of the tables, she heard the doorbell.

  “Where’s Richie?” Senalda asked Whitney, surprised to see her friend at the door solo.

  “At home.”

  “What are we going to do about photos?” Senalda said. “What happened?”

  “I don’t know. We were all set to leave, and then he said he wasn’t feeling well. He asked me to apologize for him,” Whitney said, stepping inside.

  “I guess you can’t help if you feel sick,” Senalda said. “I’m glad I have my digital camera, but it won’t be the same.” Whitney didn’t say anything else, so Senalda changed the subject.

  “So can you believe that Mimi has been married for six months?” Senalda said.

  “Yeah, good luck to her with that,” Whitney spat. “I thought my future was set when I married a doctor too, and now…” Her voice trailed off into a melancholy silence.

  “Awww, you guys are the couple I look up to,” Senalda said, “I’m sure you will work it out.”

  “We will see,” Whitney said. “What is going on with your hair? It looks really thick!

  “I haven’t had a perm since that disaster with Dexter last year. I’m just getting it pressed now. We’ll see how I can long I can go without one!”

  “That’s not my favorite style on you,” Whitney said, scrutinizing Senalda’s wavy roots, “but it does look really healthy.”

  “Really, Whitney? Whatever.” Senalda said, choosing to not check her friend.

  Party guests began to arrive shortly, with the guests of honor arriving last. Channeling ’90s Erykah Badu, Mimi was adorned in a multicolored African-print dress with a matching gele holding her locs, while Ian wore a white polo shirt and khakis. People flooded them with congratulations, hugs, and handshakes.

  Once everyone had food and was mingling, Senalda approached Jarena.

  “Hey girl, I haven’t heard from you all month,” she said. “Are you okay?”

  “Why do you ask?” Jarena asked, her cheeks rounded as she swallowed whole chunks of macaroni and cheese.

  “Because you’re sitting here with your head buried in a plate of food,” Senalda said, sitting down next to her. “Why don’t you mingle? Somebody here may know a single man whom you need to be introduced to.”

  “You don’t stop, even for a minute,” Jarena snapped. “After I eat my food, I will talk to somebody, okay?”

  “You better be glad I’m on my best behavior tonight or otherwise I would check your attitude,” Senalda said through a clenched smile as she stood up and walked away. Between Whitney’s marital issues and Jarena’s blues for no good reason, she was excited that at least one of her friends was in love and happy! And since love and happiness were still her goals over a year into their nearly stalled Destination Wedding project, she believed Mimi would be her most formidable ally going forward. She asked Wendell to give champagne-filled flutes to everyone.

  “When Mimi told me that she and Ian had eloped in Vegas last December, I couldn’t believe it,” Senalda said with a laugh, holding her flute in the air. “Everyone knows that Mimi is hard to pin down. She is the ultimate hippie chick, forty years too late. But Ian, Dr. Ian, I might add, won this girl’s heart, and Mimi, of all people, asked him to marry her! Join me in celebrating their union.”

  “And we got next,” Wendell yelled from the other side of her backyard as people raised their glasses and said, “Cheers!”

  Senalda smiled, making a mental note to speak with Wendell after everyone left.

  Jarena surveyed the smiling faces around her, wishing she felt happy too. She hadn’t attempted to smile in two weeks. She wanted to tell her friends what happened, but then she would have to admit she was a mistress. She wasn’t sure Mimi would be judgmental, but now that she was a married woman, she really wasn’t sure how she would react. Plus, she was a little annoyed that Mimi and Senalda seemed to be getting closer without her.

  Mimi was probably connecting with Senalda because she knew she could fool Senalda with her happily-ever-after fairytale, she reasoned. But Jarena knew better than to swallow her tale. She, however, swallowed the final crumbs of her second plate of food—eyeing Mimi and her new husband. It was obvious that Ian was in love with Mimi. He constantly gazed at her even when she was talking to other people, and when they stood next to each other, he found a way to touch her whenever he could. Mimi, on the other hand, was decidedly restrained. Jarena had known Mimi since they were teenagers. When Mimi was into a guy, she talked about him incessantly to anyone who would listen. Mimi spoke of Ian positively… but generally only if asked.

  Whitney filled her glass with more champagne. She’d downed her first almost in one gulp during the toast. She thought about calling Richie to check on him, but she didn’t feel like arguing. Every conversation they had now eventually turned into an argument. And the time between a calm conversation and a vicious argument was getting shorter and shorter. So she continued to guzzle champagne, hoping Mimi’s doctor wouldn’t turn on Mimi the way hers had turned on her.

  CHAPTER 20

  July

  Whitney

  IT WAS 9 P.M. and I was still in my office. I finished my work at 7, but I didn’t want to go home. I sat at my desk, staring out of my floor-to-ceiling window. Then I padded over to it, watching the cars traveling up and down Peachtree Street several feet below.

  Richie was done at the hospital. He was at home “developing his business.” Every time I thought of the moment he told me that he was going through with his plan to quit medicine last month, I wanted to scream all over again.

  We were finishing breakfast, and I was just about to eat my last spoonful of Greek yogurt when Richie had placed his empty cereal bowl in the sink. Even from across the room, I could see there was a flake of Raisin Bran left in his bowl. As I opened my mouth to tell him to rinse the bowl, he said, “Whit, I’m going through with it.”

  “You’re going through with what?”

  “I’m turning in my two-week notice today,” he said. “RBIII Photography officially begins in two weeks.”

  “Come again?”

  “I waited six months as you asked, and I’ve decided that I still want to start my business. And I’m glad I waited, because I was able to find more clients.”

  The calm way he delivered this news infuriated me. “Oh, so your photography business is going to pay for this house, the twins’ private school when they get old enough, our retirement?” I yelled. “Have you thought about that, or do you expect my salary to pay for everything?”

  “If you’re going to yell, I don’t want to talk about it,” he said as he started to walk out of the kitchen, “but you know good and well that with all of the investments we have, we’re okay. And my business will be successful.”

  I felt like saying more, but I had learned in seven years of marriage that some things should just remain unsaid because they couldn’t be taken back. So I said nothing else, but that didn’t stop me from worrying about it all day at work. When I got home that night, I went to the basement to look around.

  As I studied the photographs, I had to admit he was a talented photographer. But photography was still just an expensive hobby, not a way to make a living. I tried to imagine I was at one of my firm’s parties explaining that my husband, a former Grady doctor, now took pictures for a living. I definitely couldn’t explain it to my parents. My father had worked nearly his whole life to be where he was while my husband had been virtually given a job. That is the problem.

  “This just isn’t going to work,” I declared out loud.

  “What isn’t going to work?” Richie asked as he stood at the top of the stairs peering down at me. “What are you doing in here?”

  I almost blurted out my ultimatum, but then I opted to appeal to his rational side—if he still had one.

  “You know, Richie, you are a talented photographer,” I said, holding up the photographs closest to me, “but do you think photography is as imp
ortant as bringing new lives into this world? That is what you do every day. Can you really walk away from that?”

  “I thought about that, Whit,” he said calmly as he came down the stairs.

  Maybe this new approach is working.

  “But the longer I work in medicine the unhappier I get, and nothing is worse than an unhappy doctor,” he said. “A doctor is supposed to make you feel better, but I don’t think I can do that anymore.”

  “I know what’s worse,” I snapped, no longer able to control my tone nor my words. “A broke photographer for a husband. If you don’t stop this, I want a divorce.” I dropped his photographs on the floor and rushed up the stairs.

  He ran behind me, catching up with me at the start of the stairs. After grabbing my arm, his face was so close to mine, I felt the anger in his steamy breath. “If that’s how you want to play this, Whit, that’s how it’s going to be. I won’t put up with this.” He let go of me then and moved away, leaving me motionless and alone in the hallway. After retracting my ultimatum, I hardly spoke a full sentence to him for weeks.

  So I was still at work. After checking on the twins, I reserved a hotel room for the night. If the silent treatment didn’t work, maybe sleeping away from home would.

  Destination Wedding Meeting #19

  Bonded by Mimi’s realization of their original Destination Wedding goals, Senalda and Mimi hatched a plan for their nineteenth meeting. Since they were both devotees of CC’s counseling, they invited her to come to Mimi’s home for their meeting. CC could help Jarena get a date if neither of them could, they deduced. The women couldn’t pinpoint what was going on with their friend. But it was a conundrum they finally had the luxury of fully focusing on, now that their own formerly prickly love lives had been pacified.

  Senalda and Mimi noticed that Jarena and CC were walking up the wooden steps to the porch at the same time.

  “Hi Jarena! Hi CC!” Mimi said, as she opened her front door.

  “Nice to finally meet you in person, CC. I’ve heard a lot about you from Mimi, Senalda and Whitney,” Jarena said, inwardly wondering why the psychologist had been invited. “Where is Whitney, by the way?”

  “She’s hanging out her with family today,” Senalda answered.

  “So why don’t we all have a seat?” Mimi said, gesturing to the living room.

  “First of all, CC,” Senalda started, “I cannot thank you enough for helping us to identify some unhealthy behaviors that were keeping us unhappy in our love lives.”

  “You put that beautifully, dear,” CC said. “I may have you write that down so that I can put it on my website as an endorsement.”

  “I would be happy to,” Senalda said. “So Mimi, are you ready to get to the business at hand?”

  Mimi nodded while Jarena stared at the two. They were partners in something, and it pissed her off. Mimi is my best friend, not yours.

  “Last summer when I was seeing CC, she explained the Imago theory to me and asked me to read a book by Harville Hendrix. He is the one that came up with the theory. He believes that we are attracted to a combo of our parents. All their good and bad traits. But the bad traits are the ones that really attract us more than anythang. Aine that a trip?

  “When I thought back on my relationship with my father, he was there physically, but not emotionally. I was always tryin’ to get his attention. Acting up and erethang! That is one of the reasons why I couldn’t leave that loser Jovan alone. He was there physically, if you know what I mean, but he could never commit to me emotionally. CC, thank you for helping me to see that Ian is not only here for me physically, but he is also down for me emotionally.”

  “Isn’t that awesome, Jarena?” Senalda said, eyeing her friend who wasn’t trying to hide that she was rolling her eyes. “CC helped me to understand what happened with Dexter and what I needed to do in the future. She helped me to understand that what I thought was my type may not necessarily be good for me. Everyone knows Wendell is not my usual type. But he is really sweet. And he helps me to relax. And I know for a fact that he wants to marry me. We still have a few details to work out, but he makes me very happy.”

  “So CC,” Mimi said, “you think you could help our friend the way you helped us?”

  “I can’t believe it,” Jarena interjected angrily. “Is this a dating intervention? I have told y’all again and again that I’m good.”

  “Why do you come to our meetings month after month with absolutely nothing to report if you’re good?” Senalda spat back, her voice getting louder with each word. “And if you tell us that you’re busy in school or at church or you’ve just sold your business again, I’m going to scream. Because we’re all busy, at least I am anyway, and we have found time to date and even get married! What’s really going on?”

  The three women fixated on Jarena, waiting for an answer. Jarena thought about blurting out the whole scandal with Barry, but she just couldn’t bring herself to admit what had happened. Instead, she opted to just allow the “dating intervention” to unfold even if she was humiliated. At least her affair wouldn’t be exposed.

  “I don’t know,” Jarena said of her conscious and subconscious subterfuge. “The truth is I really can’t explain why I haven’t met anybody. CC, since my friends think you have all of the answers, what do you think?”

  “It’s hard to say without knowing more about you, but I will ask one question,” CC said, leaning forward on the loveseat where she sat. “Our past always provides clues to our present. If you don’t mind me asking you this in front of your friends, what was your relationship like with your mother and father?”

  Jarena sighed loudly and answered in a monotone. “My mother died from breast cancer when I was in college but before she died, we were very close. I never knew my father.”

  “You don’t know the identity of your father?” CC probed.

  “When I was a little girl up until I was about twelve, we lived in housing projects, and no one seemed to have a father. But when we moved to the suburbs, I noticed that other kids had two parents. So I asked my mother a lot about my father when we first moved, but she always changed the subject or put me off, so I stopped asking eventually.

  “So no, I don’t know the identity of my father. But it hasn’t affected me. I owned a successful business which I sold earlier this year. I’m in school getting my master’s degree at Emory University’s Candler School of Theology. I paid my way through the University of Alabama where I got my bachelor’s degree in public relations. I think I’ve done very well in spite of not having a father.”

  “Jarena, no one is saying that you’re not successful, but you really don’t see the connection between not knowing your father and not having even a date to speak of in the last nineteen months that we have actually been working on our love lives? I’m not a trained psychologist, but damn,” Senalda said in exasperation.

  “Yeah,” Mimi said. “I’ve noticed either she aine dating anyone or she’s dating a married man. What’s up with that?”

  Jarena opened her mouth to speak but closed it again without uttering a word. Out of everything that was said, Jarena realized her best friend’s final words were most potent. The worst part was that she couldn’t answer the question, even for herself.

  CHAPTER 21

  August

  Jarena

  I RELAXED ON THE GRASS outside of Emory University’s theology school, a relief to feel the sun’s warmth on my face after a full day inside going from class to class. I couldn’t believe it was the start of my second year of my master’s program. The first year had flown by. I wondered if this year would too. I thought of my grandmother then. She would be so proud. If she had been alive she would be the one hollering the loudest at my graduation, because she was the one who planted the idea about being a minister in me all those years ago. Can I still be a minister after all that has happened?

  Before I could answer my question, a classmate, a white boy named Bryson, situated himself beside me.

&
nbsp; “Hey Jarena,” he said, looking at me.

  “Oh, hey there, Bryson.” I attempted to look back at him while shielding my eyes from the now glaring Georgia sun.

  “Did you take good notes during Professor Odumosu’s class?” he asked. “I tried my best, but I’m still in summer mode.”

  “I know,” I said with a laugh. “She taught like we were ending the first semester instead of starting our first day.”

  “I watched you taking notes, and you seemed to be writing a lot,” he said. “I have to get to work now, but maybe we can meet later tonight for dinner and compare notes.”

  “I wish I could,” I said, “but I have plans tonight. Maybe we can meet before class tomorrow instead?”

  “Okay, meet you twenty minutes before class?” Bryson asked. “We can meet right here.”

  His words were casual, but his eyes were intense, prodding me to agree.

  “Okay, see you then.”

  He waved goodbye before he got on a bicycle and rode off. He was tall but had a solid frame with sandy blond hair and matching golden eyes. I could tell he was athletic, too, because I could see the definition of his muscles beneath his maroon T-shirt. He had made a point of speaking to me throughout last year, but I had never really paid attention to him. I wasn’t sure if this white boy was trying to hit on me or not. Had he been black, I would have thought maybe so, but I just didn’t know what white boys did when they were trying to holla at someone. Either way, I wasn’t trying to holla at any man, white or black, at least for right now. I was still waiting on God to tell me what to do in that department. And after last month’s Destination Wedding meeting disaster, a “dating intervention” on my behalf, I thought it was best to skip the next meeting.

  Now that the sun had sufficiently warmed me up, I took out my laptop to look through my notes. But first, let me scroll through Facebook and see what’s going on with my friends. I contemplated shutting down my page after what happened with Barry, but I decided “unfriending” him would be enough. I noticed I had a message from a Rev. Dr. David P. Baker. Who is that? I didn’t recognize him as one of my Facebook friends, but I thought he might have something to do with Candler, since he was a reverend.