Things Forbidden

by Maryam Diaab

  I put up my hand and began gathering my belongings quickly. “I get it, Yvette, so you can save your excuses. I’m leaving, and I hope you and the woman-beater here live happily ever after.”

  Yvette

  29

  I fucked up. I chose the wrong man and I now wished I could turn back the hands of time. I missed him; I wasn’t happy without him. Ajani was what I’d been looking for my entire life, and I was too stupid, too judgmental, and too immature to realize it. I decided that marrying Terrence just wasn’t an option, not with the way I felt about Ajani.

  After Ajani left, I sat and tried to imagine what being married to Terrence would be like after everything that had happened. I couldn’t. All I saw was Ajani, a huge home and three kids who all looked just like him. My dreams had really changed.

  Now I’ve resigned myself to telling Terrence that we weren’t going to work. I spent the entire day in my office planning what to say. It had become painfully obvious to me that I could no longer live a lie. The wedding was off.

  “Ms. Brooks?” Jordan said, entering my office. She looked somber, as if someone had just died. “Ms. Fisher wants to see you.”

  “Jordan, what’s with the long face?” I asked, standing and going toward her. “Am I in trouble?” I joked.

  Looking extremely uncomfortable, Jordan studiously avoided my gaze. “Um…well…” she stammered.

  “What?” I was becoming alarmed. “Tell me before I go in there looking silly!”

  “Ms. Fisher found out about you and Ajani. She knows how you met, and other details as well.”

  All the oxygen left my lungs and the room began to spin crazily. “How does she know?” I asked weakly, not recognizing my own voice.

  “Someone told her.”

  I glared at her accusingly, the blood leaving my face.

  “It wasn’t me! I swear! You’d better get in there. Good luck.”

  Trying to breathe normally, I left my office and hurried to Ms. Fisher’s office, hoping that Jordan had just been making a mountain out of a molehill.

  That hope was immediately dashed when I entered and saw a familiar figure sitting demurely in a corner of the well-appointed office. Ajani’s ex-girlfriend Lisa sat wearing her Sunday best and quietly crying, as if her entire world had come crashing down around her.

  “This young lady has made an accusation that you are having an affair with her boyfriend.” Ms. Fisher cut to the chase immediately, shooting me a no-nonsense look across her large oak desk.

  Without realizing what I was doing, I closed my eyes, trying to decide which was the better route—to be honest or lie. “I don’t understand what my personal life has to do with my professionalism here at the school,” I answered, choosing, at least temporarily, to hedge, hoping to buy time.

  “Well, you’re right, Ms. Brooks. Normally, it wouldn’t; however, Lisa tells me that you met this young man here, during school hours, while he was observing you for a required university class.”

  She knew everything. I looked over at Lisa and saw that her tears had stopped and a wicked smile replaced them. From the moment I met her, I knew she would be trouble, but I never expected this. Never.

  “I-I—” I stuttered, desperate to save myself from the quicksand Lisa had thrown me into but not knowing how.

  “Yvette, since you arrived at Nashville Prep you have been the consummate professional. Both staff and students love you, and I have never worked with a more competent assistant principal. Therefore, I wanted to hear your side of the story. I thought maybe there had been some sort of misunderstanding and wanted to hear from both of you.”

  A lump lodged itself in my throat. “Yes, I did meet Ajani here and we have been seeing each other, but it has never gotten in the way of my position,” I admitted, deciding that lying would just make things worse. It was clear that I was in some pretty deep shit already.

  Rejecting my explanation, Ms. Fisher said, “But, Ms. Brooks, it has. The relationship that you have with this young man has brought this young lady to my office in tears. She feels betrayed and frankly, Yvette, so do I.”

  I wanted to vomit. Looking at Lisa again, knowing betrayal was the last thing she felt. The vindictive little skank actually winked at me—as if it was all a big joke.

  “Lisa, thank you for brining this to my attention. I hope that you will accept my sincere apology.” Ms. Fisher escorted her out the door while I waited for the verdict to be handed down.

  “Ms. Brooks, due to your serious lapse in judgment I am left with no choice but to ask you to take a few days off until the board investigation and hearing can be scheduled.”

  “But—” I began in disbelief. I had been sure that this fling would result in a slap on the wrist, a write-up, maybe even a good, stern talking to, but suspension?

  “Ms. Brooks, there are really no other alternatives. Your behavior in this situation has been extremely unprofessional, and there are rules that were broken both here at Nashville Prep and at the university. I’m placing you on suspension until the board has an opportunity to review the charges.”

  I stood in the office, and the past few months flashed before my eyes. I had created this mess, and now my choices were biting me in the ass in a way I‘d never expected. I couldn’t believe that just a short while ago I had decided to give up everything for Ajani.

  “There will be no need for a suspension,” I said, feeling as if I was on the verge of a nervous breakdown. My hands and arms shook, and I could feel pools of perspiration forming in my armpits. “You’ll have my resignation on your desk by the end of the day.”

  Head held high, I spun on my spiked heels and left the office. I walked past an open-mouthed Jordan and into what used to be my sanctuary. I sat down at the sleek black desktop computer and stared blankly at the dark screen.

  I had worked so hard to get where I was—late nights at work, tutoring for free, making sure that I was the most dedicated and innovative employee Detroit and Nashville Prep had ever seen—and this was the thanks I got.

  “What happened?” Jordan asked, rushing in and closing the door behind her.

  “Lisa said that I was sleeping with her boyfriend, and Ms. Fisher told me that since I met Ajani at the school, my relationship with him was completely unprofessional. And then the witch suspended me,” I spat out bitterly, despising Lisa and Ms. Fisher more and more with every word I spoke. “So instead of allowing myself to be humiliated any further, I resigned.”

  “You what?” she asked, shocked.

  “I resigned. I hope you don’t think that I would allow her to fire me and then put this shit into my permanent record. I’d never find another job.”

  “But don’t you think you’re being a little hasty? There is a possibility that she suspended you only until this blows over.”

  “Well, I’m not willing to take that chance.” I booted up my computer, mentally preparing my statement for the board. Jordan stared at me helplessly, clearly not knowing what to say.

  “But what are you going to do? How are you going to survive?”

  “I have plenty of money in savings and I own the home my grandmother used to live in. And don’t forget, I’m marrying Dr. Terrence Hall.” I opened the word processing program and began to type furiously, resisting the urge to include words like ‘stupid ass’ and ‘fat fuck’ in my letter of resignation.

  “So you’re really going to marry him?” Jordan asked. Before I had been summoned to Ms. Fisher’s office, my mind had been made up—there would be no wedding and absolutely no life with Terrence. But now, with no reason to remain in Nashville, it looked as if fate was making my decision for me. My relationship with Ajani seemed to have been doomed from the very beginning.

  “What choice do I have now? I have no job, no place to live here because the apartment came with the position, and I told Ajani that we were finished…”

  “But it’s obvious that you don’t want to marry Terrence and—”

  “As I just said, I don’t have
any other choice. I really should have never come here.”

  “Don’t say that, Yvette. You’ve been happy since you moved to Nashville. Admit it,” Jordan knowingly.

  “Look at what all this happiness is costing me,” I said calmly, looking at her directly. “I hope you’ll come to the wedding.”

  “I don’t think there will be a wedding,” Jordan predicted, watching me pull the finished letter from the printer with a flourish.

  “Well, you’re wrong!”

  Part 3

  Wedding Day

  Terrence

  30

  “Where the hell is she?” I wondered aloud as I dialed Yvette’s cell phone number for the fortieth time in the fifty minutes since she had disappeared. She wouldn’t answer, and now the call just went straight to voicemail.

  “You’ve reached Yvette Brooks. I’m unavailable at the moment. Please leave a…”

  “I don’t think she’s coming back, Terrence,” my mother said, rubbing my back in small circles, just as she used to when I was a kid. “The girls in the bridal party said they saw her run out of here in her wedding dress. She got into a cab and it sped off. It’s been almost an hour, baby, and the guests are beginning to wonder what’s going on.”

  “I’m wondering what’s going on, Mama. I can’t believe she would do this to me.” Actually, I wasn’t really that surprised, but my mother didn’t need to know specifics.

  Since Yvette’s return to Detroit after that whole scene in Nashville, she had been less than the perfect fiancée. Where she was once bubbly and happy, she had turned cold and depressed. Sex was absolutely out of the question, and more than once I had been forced to choke the chicken to Internet porn. Sad but true.

  I put up with it because I wanted to give her time to get over her little fling. She admitted that she loved the boy, but was committed to marrying me. So being the man that I am, I agreed to be patient and let it work its way out of her system on its own. I was supportive even when I shouldn’t have been, and this is the thanks I got.

  “Terrence, did something happen between you and Yvette that would make her run out on your wedding like this?” my mother asked, walking around to sit in front of me. She wanted to look me in the eyes; she could always tell when I was lying.

  I sighed deeply, trying to buy some time so I could manipulate the story in my favor. There was no way I could afford to come out looking like the bad guy in all this. My mother had always loved Yvette, and although I was her only son, if I told the whole truth, I had no doubt that my mother’s sympathies wouldn’t lie with me.

  “We’ve been having some problems lately,” I murmured, looking at my mother. “When Yvette moved down to Nashville, she met someone.”

  My mother gasped, her hand clutching the freshwater pearls she wore. I continued my tale of woe, willing tears to form in the corners of my eyes. “He’s a college student. She told me she loved him but wanted to work things out with me. I believed her, Mama. I thought we could get into some counseling, and we would be okay. I love her so much that I was willing to look past what she had done to me.” I held my head in my hands and took a deep breath. While I wasn’t as devastated as I wanted my mother to believe, I was still upset. Regardless of my many adulterous mistakes, I really did love Yvette and wanted nothing more than to make her my wife.

  “Oh, baby,” my mother said, wrapping her arms around me.

  “Terrence, I’m sorry to interrupt, but the minister is wondering what’s going on. He says that he has another wedding to perform in thirty minutes and it’s across town,” Wendy said, coming into the room.

  I looked up from my mother’s embrace and scowled at her. We hadn’t talked since her decision to keep the baby and, frankly, I couldn’t stand the sight of her.

  “Terrence, I think it’s time we announce that there won’t be a wedding today,” my mother said, sadness clouding her pretty face. “I can say something to the guests if you want.”

  “No, no, that’s not your job, Mama.” I turned toward the door. “Wendy, as the maid of honor, I think it would be fitting if you make the announcement. Shouldn’t it be you who tells the guests that your friend has run off to God only knows where?”

  “That’s a good idea, baby,” my mother agreed. “And, Wendy, make sure you apologize for the inconvenience.”

  Wendy stood with her mouth agape, obviously not believing my nerve. But before she could protest, I took my mother’s hand and strolled past her and into the brightly lit hotel lobby.

  “I’m sure she’ll do a much better job than we would’ve, Mama,” I said, as Wendy walked past me and headed for the ballroom, but not before she shot me a look that would put Medusa to shame. “Reporting the news is her job, after all.”

  Wendy walked to the front of the room and whispered in the minister’s ear. Looking solemn, he whispered something back. Wendy shook her head and stood center stage in front of the microphone.

  “May I have everyone’s attention?” she asked, her voice cracking slightly. “May I please have everyone’s attention?”

  The restless guests quieted down, nearly all their faces showing curiosity and concern.

  “First of all, I would like to thank everyone for your patience thus far.” Wendy smiled nervously and cleared her throat before continuing. “I am sorry to report that due to unforeseen circumstances, there will be no wedding today. Again, I would like to thank everyone for your patience, and on behalf of Terrence, Yvette and their families, I would like to apologize for any inconvenience this may have caused.” With that, Wendy turned off the microphone and walked away.

  The clamor from the wedding guests was deafening. Some seemed angry and upset, while others reacted with a mixture of confusion and concern. Nearly everyone looked to the back of the room and directed questioning looks at me.

  “What the hell is going on here?” someone in the crowd asked loudly.

  “The groom is back there. It looks like we have a runaway bride on our hands,” another guest said, chuckling appreciatively.

  “What did you do now?” a woman I didn’t recognize called out to me. She was clad in purple from head to toe and resembled a really bad imitation of Barney the Dinosaur.

  “Just smile and be polite, Terrence. Show them that you’re the victim here,” my mother said, patting my arm.

  I smiled sadly as I greeted the well-wishers turned sympathizers. For this performance, no coaching was needed; playing the victim was something I did extremely well.

  Yvette

  31

  The line at the Northwest Airlines ticket counter reminded me of an amusement park queue. There had to be two hundred people waiting to finalize their travel plans. If I hadn’t stopped off at Target to buy a jeans and a T-shirt and change my clothes, I would have had a better spot in line.

  I had been waiting for an hour listening to crying babies with snot smearing their faces, men discussing golf scores, and women complaining to no one in particular about the slow-moving line.

  I had absolutely nothing to complain about because I had absolutely nowhere to go. Since lining up with the one hundred and ninety-nine other people desperate to leave Detroit, I had kept my eyes glued to the departure screen. Atlanta, Chicago, D.C—none of them seemed far enough from my issues. I needed to get as far away as possible and I needed to do it ASAP because my cellphone hadn’t stopped ringing since I slid into that old man’s cab.

  The last time I checked, my service informed me that sixty-five new messages had been left, but there was no way I would be checking them anytime soon. When we pulled away from the hotel, I had already decided I would be unavailable indefinitely.

  I had dialed Wendy’s cellphone number four or five times without pressing the talk button. The curious cat in me couldn’t help wondering what was happening at the wedding site, who was saying what—that sort of thing. But each time I dialed, something inside me said that if I talked to her I would be somehow persuaded to go back, and going back was the last thing I w
anted to do. I needed time alone.

  My life had been flipped upside down, and it was high time that I figured out what I was going to do with the rest of it. Under normal circumstances, I would have confided in Wendy, but this situation was anything but normal. Ever since I came back to Detroit with a broken heart and no job, my best friend had been the person following me around with I told you so stamped on her forehead.

  Upon my less than graceful return to Detroit, Wendy had felt it necessary to tell me that I was the one who ruined my relationship with Terrence. “You just don’t know what you have in that man, Yvette. He worships the ground you walk on, and you threw it all away.” I was amazed that she could conveniently forget that he cheated on me, not to mention our stint in couples counseling before I moved to Nashville.

  “I haven’t thrown anything away,” I told her a week ago. I glared at the best friend I had assumed would always be on my side. “Terrence and I are still getting married and—”

  “And what about your career?” Wendy asked, cutting me off. “You worked so hard to get that assistant principal position, ruined your relationship with Terrence because of it and then end up getting fired over an indiscretion with a child.”

  “He’s not a child, Wendy, and for the record, I was not fired; I quit before they fired me. I was placed on suspension, remember? And why are you trying to make me sound like some sick child molester or something? Yes, Ajani is younger than me—”

  “A lot younger,” she reminded me.

  “Okay, so he’s a lot younger than me but, damn, he’s not a child. Ajani is a grown man and can—and does—make his own decisions. Age does not automatically mean maturity. Just look at Terrence.”

  “He may be able to drink and buy cigarettes, but you and I both know that he was off limits; we both know that your infatuation with him cost you your job.”

  I closed my eyes tightly, trying to block out that conversation.