by H. H. Fowler
She blushed. “If I wasn't a bit tipsy, I would have sworn you'd just proposed to me.”
“You’re not tipsy at all. I have proposed to you.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out a white ribbon with a one carat diamond gold ring attached at the end of it. It had, 'Marry me, Tayah' written on it.
Her jaws dropped. “You can't be serious. We've only been seeing each other for a year.”
“That doesn't matter. I love you and I don't want to waste any more time. Please tell me you will say yes.”
“This is so sudden…” She fumbled for the right words to say. “Have you spoken to my father?”
“Yes. He knows about my intentions.”
“What did he say?”
“It's not as important as what I wanna hear you say.”
She inspected the ring, running her fingertips over the diamond. “Can I think about it? I just need a little time.”
“It's better than a flat out rejection. So yes, I'll give you a little time. Please be kind to my heart.”
Four months later, they were married by her father's friend, as her father was still in the process of recovering from a gunshot wound to the head. While sitting and talking with her father yesterday, it didn’t seem as if he’d been a victim of such a brutal attack. Apart from the mental anguish piercing his dark brown eyes, he appeared to be as healthy and as virile as any normal man. She let out a sigh as she turned on the shower and stood under it. With two major events planned for the day by the Tampa Bay Black Heritage Festival, she was certain it was going to be a long, exhausting weekend.
About an hour later
As part of their workout routine, Dominic and Sanchez incorporated a five-mile jog around the outskirts of the University of South Florida campus. The morning was just getting started, but their heated discussion over the NBA’s pick for MVP had been burning the minute they took to the strip down Fowler Avenue.
“I’m telling you, man,” Dominic affirmed, sweating and breathing heavily in the light, spring breeze. “Derrick Rose is gonna pull it off again this year! Bulls would be in a slew without him.”
“No sir!” Sanchez roared. “L.A. got the best record in the west right now. Kobe has that on lock down!”
“Boy, you talking craziness. Kobe playing with a bunch of scrubs…”
“That has nothin’ to do with it. Right now, Kobe’s averaging twenty-six points, five assists, and five–”
“And so is Kevin Durant,” Dominic interrupted. “Actually, he’s averaging twenty-eight points per game…”
“Yeah, I’m with you on that. Durant is a fierce competitor when it comes down to scoring, but I don’t see him doing well in the other stats.”
They paused at a traffic light, but they kept jogging in the same spot.
“Carmelo is playing well this season too,” Dominic said.” I think he might have a chance…”
“Carmelo? You crazy?” Sanchez kissed his teeth. “I’ll trade that dude for a pack of bubble gum. He’s a lazy piece of somethin’!”
“And I think Kobe is a ball hog,” Dominic quipped.
****
Tayah turned left off Nebraska Avenue onto Fowler to make the seven-minute drive to Embassy Suites where she would join two hundred folks in a breakfast bash, celebrating the legacy of Martin Luther King Jr. As she maneuvered in and out of the flowing traffic with one hand on the steering wheel, her other hand subconsciously rubbed the front of her neck. She wondered why that area felt so sore, but soon made the connection and was sadden by the reality that her husband had nearly strangled her to death, and if her father hadn't rung that doorbell, she wasn't certain she'd still be alive this morning. Her eyes began to water as she thought about the man Phillip had turned out to be. She never imagined that he would ever put his hands on her. To say she was disappointed was an understatement.
Oh Lord, give me the strength to love my husband, in spite of his shortcomings. And help me to give him that respect, even though I don't think he deserves it. Please, let Your…
Her prayer came to an abrupt end when she and other motorists stopped their cars at a pedestrian crossing to let Dominic and Sanchez jog across to the other side. Thank God they hadn't seen her, because they would have caught her drooling in lust. She couldn't tear her eyes away from Dominic's body, which was scantily clad in a black tank top and a pair of NFL-looking tights. Every muscle in his butt and thighs bulged as his feet struck the asphalt at a steady pace. The honking horns behind her jolted her to her senses, which also caused Dominic and Sanchez to look behind them to see what the noise was all about. Tayah stomped her foot on the gas pedal and drove out of view, hoping they hadn't spotted her.
As she burned rubber down Fowler Avenue, her BlackBerry rang, causing her heart to beat even faster. Maybe they had seen her, she panicked. Dominic could pick out her car in a crowded parking lot without breaking a sweat. What if it was him calling? She snatched up her phone and stared at the screen, relieved that she would not have to suffer such an unholy embarrassment.
“Hello, Ian. What's going on?”
“Please tell me that you're almost here.”
“Yes, I'm turning into the parking lot as we speak,” she told him. “Is there a problem?”
“Nothing that you can't fix. We need you to do the opening prayer. Marcus is a no show.”
After all of that lusting she'd done a couple seconds ago, Tayah didn't feel worthy to approach the throne of grace. But she knew as one of the main event coordinators, she couldn't let the committee down. They depended heavily on her loyalty, so she simply said, “Oh sure, Ian. That's no problem. I'll see you on the inside.”
****
Coming to the home stretch of their five-mile jog, Dominic took a seat on the grass, several yards from his car. Sanchez flopped down next to him, out of breath.
“If my mind's not fooling me, I think that was Tayah back there,” Dominic said. “Ever since I took her home that night, she's been avoiding me.”
Sanchez cracked a small smile. “Leave it to you and you'll find a way to bring up her name in every conversation.”
“That's not true.”
“Dom, so what if she's avoiding you, man. That's her God-given right as a married woman.”
“I know that…”
“No, you don't…”
“What you mean I don't? I know how far to go. I know my boundaries.”
“Whatever, man. You sittin' here moping over a chick that's off limits. You need to stop wastin' time and move on with your life. Mount Moriah is loaded with rows and rows of Nubian beauties. Bruh, even my sister digs you, but what do you care? As long as Tayah is in the picture, no other woman stands a chance.”
Dominic really wasn't into hearing Sanchez preach to him about love and relationships, especially when Sanchez had problems keeping his dirty imagination in check. He stood up, brushing the dirt from his butt. “Let's drop this conversation right now.”
“You are so touchy when it comes to her,” Sanchez grinned. “You see, you're already upset. And for what? All I did was tell you the truth.”
“I don't wanna talk about it,” Dominic said, making an effort to head to his car. “You keep talking smack and you’ll have to find someone else to carry that mouth around.”
“Man, I tell you, women make us say and do some crazy stuff,” Sanchez said. “Even King Solomon, in all his wisdom, was fooled by them. I wonder how you would react if Tayah had actually felt the same way about you.”
Dominic kept walking ahead, annoyed by his friend’s need for jocularity. “She’s married. So I guess we’ll never know, will we?”
“Boy, stranger things have happened,” Sanchez’s mischievous smile turned into a toothy grin. “I’ve learned that the future is very unpredictable.”
Chapter Twenty-Nine
When Leroy opened his eyes in his twenty by twenty study room, it was several minutes to noon. The white, stiff shirt and gold tie he'd wore yesterday lay in a pile next to him, along wi
th his six-hundred-dollar charcoal suit. His Stacy Adam shoes were kicked under the table as if he'd developed a sudden distaste for his sense of style. He lay on his stomach with his nose stuck in their Persian rug, not wanting to ever get up and face the mess he'd created in his life.
He'd prayed and cried all night, which had been his only saving grace. Sitting alone in the dark without the comfort of his family, thinking about the pain he was about to put them through, had driven him up the wall. He'd contemplated heavily on taking his life, but that wouldn't have been fair to them. He owed them the truth, at least to Michelle. She deserved to know the reason behind his decision to ordain Shaniece as second in command.
He couldn't pretend anymore. He couldn't go on watching his dear wife suffer unjustly, being humiliated day after day, when she'd done nothing but maintain her integrity. She didn't lose her cool amidst the lies and the gossip of the church, but had stuck with him, even though she had the option to take half of what they'd built together and skip town. She'd been loyal to him all this time. What a fool he'd been to have kept the truth from her. He probably wouldn't have endured five years of evil manipulation and constant reminders of his sin.
Indeed, his sin had brought nothing but misery and depression into their marriage. How much worse could it get if he emptied his soul to Michelle? She would either forgive him or not, and seeing how she had weathered the storm these last five years, he was tempted to believe she would find the space in her heart to move past his mistake. Because that's all it was, a fleeting mistake. Even though Shaniece had already planted the seed of suspicion with her lies and theatrics, he knew the truth would cause Michelle to see Shaniece for who she really was. But he first had to find Michelle.
He gathered up his belongings, and though he normally didn't walk through his home in his boxers, he took the chance, and assuming the boys were out playing ball, he practically had the place to himself. But he felt out-of-synch, as he made a diversion into the kitchen to make a cup of coffee. Just a few days ago, the place reeked of eggs and toast. And how ever short-lived the family fellowship may have been, everyone seemed to have enjoyed Michelle’s cooking that morning. Now the stillness and the emptiness he encountered was a sharp reminder of his responsibility as head of his home. If he felt out of place it was no wonder that everything else felt as if it was out of place, too.
His family depended on his vision and his leadership, and if he weakened the foundation by consistently making poor choices, he had no one to blame but himself when things didn't go according to plan. He couldn't tell when was the last time he'd had a man-to-man talk with his sons. They were practically men now and he couldn't say for sure if he'd had much to do with their development over the last five years. It saddened him that it took that one scene, (with Michelle walking in on him and Shaniece yesterday), to get him to think seriously about the direction his life was heading. Maybe it was God's final attempt to compel him to do the right thing. Whatever the implications, he knew today would be the day he would set his soul free of the secrets he'd carried around for so long.
Same Time
Upon Michelle's insistence, Abraham had checked her into Best Western Suites after he told her she couldn't spend the night at his place. How would that be interpreted, he'd said, if it got out that the First Lady spent the night in the Youth Minister's house? Of course, she didn't care what the people thought. They were talking about her anyway. She simply wanted to stay as far away as possible from Leroy and his lies.
“Please, eat something, dear,” Brenda said, as she and Abraham gathered around her, offering her a small serving of pasta from Olive Gardens.
“I'm fasting,” she said dryly. “Get that thing out of my sight.”
“Fasting? C'mon, Lady Paxton,” Abraham said. “Obviously it's not for spiritual motivation. You need to keep your strength up.”
“No, just let me die.”
Brenda shared a look of concern with Abraham. They needed to lift Michelle out of her depression so that she could think more clearly about this situation involving Shaniece and her husband. She sat next to Michelle and rubbed her back in a motherly kind of way. “Not on our watch, hon,” she said. “We care too much about you. You have to pull yourself together. Starving and fretting yourself to death is not the answer.”
“Oh please, I have been dealing with this charade for five years. Don't tell me how I should act. I caught my husband wiggling on top of that witch!”
“But sitting here losing it won’t make–”
“What the devil you want me to do?” Michelle’s bloodshot eyes pierced Brenda. “You should have seen how she showed her teeth when I walked in on them.”
“I'm sorry,” Brenda said softly. “I didn't intend to come off as being insensitive. I simply–”
“All this time,” Michelle rambled on, “they’ve been getting hot and heavy behind my back and I was too stupid not to believe it. The signs were right there, slapping me in the face. They were always finding reasons to talk, and to 'share' church business. But Leroy assured me that was never the case. And I so badly wanted to believe him, that I'd tried to push the suspicion away from my thoughts, but now I see that was my biggest mistake…”
Abraham felt his cell vibrating in his pocket, for what seemed to be the tenth time that morning. His moves were inconspicuous as he pulled the phone out of his pocket and stared at the number. He knew Leroy would not give up until he answered. He quietly stepped outside of the room and placed the phone against his ear.
“I could see them making fun of me,” Michelle spat. She blew her nose into a piece of tissue that was already shredding with her tears. “Laughing at my stupidity. I must be the dumbest wife of the year. And I don’t even love money that much. I wasn’t staying with Leroy for the money. All I wanted was for my husband to be upfront with me…”
Brenda opened her purse and grabbed a folded manila envelope out of it. “Hun, don’t take this the wrong way, but would you quit feeling sorry for yourself for two minutes and read this?”
“Leave me alone. I don’t want to read anything.”
“It’s not what you think.”
“Brenda, please. I’m not in the mood.”
When Brenda saw she couldn’t get her way with Michelle, she slapped on her glasses and began to read the contents out aloud. “These are letters of salary increases for the new quarter. I sent out four emails of notification to those concerned. I printed them for you to see.”
Michelle placed her head in one of her hands and stared at the carpet as if she were about to drop and bury her face in it.
“If this doesn’t get your juices flowing, I don’t know what will,” Brenda said, clearing her throat. She read all of the introductory details and then jumped to the paragraph she’d highlighted, “Dear Pastor Shaniece Bryant, this missive is to inform you that your annual salary of $115,000 will be increased to $225,000 with immediate effect…” Brenda peered below her glasses to catch Michelle’s reaction, which was not what she expected.
“So? They are screwing each other. Of course, he would make sure she’s taken care of.”
“Oh dear, work with me here,” Brenda said. “That’s an incredibly huge jump, whether or not he’s having, you know, with you know who…”
“What? Sex?” Michelle glared at Brenda incredulously. “Just say it, Brenda! They are having sex! What’s so hard about saying that?”
Brenda blinked away her astonishment. She’d never heard Michelle indulge in such language. “My dear,” she whispered. “Pastor Shaniece wasn’t the only one who received such an outlandish raise in their salary.”
“I don’t care to hear any of it, Brenda!”
“Oh; I disagree. I think you should.”
****
Leroy paced the marble terrazzo floor with the phone tucked to his ear, pleading with Abraham. He paid no mind that he was still in yesterday's boxers, feeling the cool air from the vents whipped against his legs. All he wanted was to have one word with
his wife.
“Yes, I understand, Abraham. Please, put her on the phone.”
“Sir, give her some time. She’s not in any shape to be reasonable.”
“I’m her husband for heaven’s sake! Please tell her that it is urgent that I speak to her.”
Abraham’s burden for the Paxton couple was evident in his voice. “Let me see what I can do.”
As Leroy waited to hear that familiar voice on the other side of the line, he suddenly felt his body trembling. He couldn't determine if it was because of nervousness or the temperature spreading in the hall. He walked swiftly toward the elaborate staircase and then began his ascent, thinking about that warm sweat suit resting in his drawer. He could hear Michelle in the background, arguing with Abraham, and for a moment, he thought Abraham had lost the battle until he heard her unsettling voice barking into the receiver.
“What do you want?”
“Baby…” Leroy wasn't prepared to handle the asperity coming from the woman who had had a gentle disposition during all their years of being together. The idea of pouring his heart out to her suddenly didn't seem so appealing. “A chance to talk,” he said, carefully. “That's all I want.”
She snickered. “Why do men have to wait until they are caught before they realize the bloody mess they've made? Now, you expect me to come at your beck and call? I don't think so, Leroy.”
“I will tell you everything,” he told her, leaning against their custom-made railings. He had a clear shot of both their sons’ bedroom doors, which looked remarkably clean despite their sweaty bodies bucking up against them every day. “Just come home, Michelle.”
“So, you are admitting to the affair?”
“Please, let's not do this over the phone.”
“Why is it so hard for you to just say it? Just come out and say it!”
“It's not that easy…”