Married to the Struggle

by La Toya Hankins

  Married to the Struggle

  By La Toya Hankins

  Published by JMS Books LLC

  Visit jms-books.com for more information.

  Copyright 2020 La Toya Hankins

  ISBN 9781646563029

  Cover Design: Written Ink Designs | written-ink.com

  Image(s) used under a Standard Royalty-Free License.

  All rights reserved.

  WARNING: This book is not transferable. It is for your own personal use. If it is sold, shared, or given away, it is an infringement of the copyright of this work and violators will be prosecuted to the fullest extent of the law.

  No portion of this book may be transmitted or reproduced in any form, or by any means, without permission in writing from the publisher, with the exception of brief excerpts used for the purposes of review.

  This book is for ADULT AUDIENCES ONLY. It may contain sexually explicit scenes and graphic language which might be considered offensive by some readers. Please store your files where they cannot be accessed by minors.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are solely the product of the author’s imagination and/or are used fictitiously, though reference may be made to actual historical events or existing locations. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  Published in the United States of America.

  * * * *

  Married to the Struggle

  By La Toya Hankins

  “You owe me fifty dollars,” Faith said before taking a sip of wine. She and her future sister-in-law were spending part of a sweltering Thursday afternoon among an abundance of silk, satins, taffetas, and other materials not suitable for daily life. The two had put their lives on hold to gather in a Durham bridal salon to day drink and give their opinions. For the past thirty minutes, they had shared work woes, family achievements, and agreed about how this had to be the hottest summer they could remember. After those conversation streams dried up, Faith decided it was the perfect time to bring up a two-year-old bet about two former Wake County jail inmates.

  “They aren’t married yet, so forgive me if I’m not ready to part with my hard-earned money.” Kenly checked her watch for the third time in fifteen minutes. She could think of so many other places she would rather be but, a promise was a promise. “Charlotte and Sedalia seem to have a knack for finding causes to support and loudly express their opposition. My gut tells me they won’t make it to the altar without someone getting arrested for something. All I can say it’s a good thing they each have their own business. I have lost track of how many times those two have been in someone’s courtroom for trespassing or something else. I know for sure Charlotte has seen the inside of at least four county jails and that’s not including that time in high school. I can’t put the blame on your sister for that foolishness. I’m all for social justice but you don’t have to always get arrested for your beliefs.”

  “I happen to believe, like our respective sisters, that sometimes you have to be willing to put your freedom on the line to raise awareness about an issue. But I can see your point. For a while, it seems like they were appearing in court more times than I did, and I’m a partner in a law firm,” Faith said. “But neither one of them has been before a magistrate for civil disobedience since last year. Charlotte completed her community service hours last month, so that is out of the way and Dalia is this close to getting her wedding dress. To me, that is suitable evidence they are actually going to do it. Face it, in less than ninety days our sisters will be united in matrimony, and you will have lost the bet that the two of them would never settle down and make it official.”

  Kenly popped a complimentary mint in her mouth and deposited a fistful in her purse. “I admire your optimism but, I’m not holding my breath. A lot can happen between now and October 21. Hell, the two of them haven’t even got the marriage license yet.”

  Faith pointed out the reason for that was since the license was only good for sixty days the couple planned to wait until they were closer to the date to avoid the license expiring. Kenly retorted that, when they get their marriage license, they won’t know how to act because it would be the first time in a while they are going to be in a courthouse without a bail bondsman being involved.

  “Hi lovelies, sorry I’m late. My last client didn’t want to get out of the chair after we finished. I felt it would have been horribly rude to rush a woman commiserating about her marriage going to hell because I have a bridal dress appointment.” Sedalia’s enthusiastic voice and the tinkling of her metal cylinder earrings announced her arrival. Faith hugged her sister and inhaled the coconut scent of the hairdressing she used to keep her coal colored mane moisturized. The scent mingled with the vanilla body scrub Sedalia used to maintain her smooth skin. Faith smiled at the realization her sister’s smell perfectly captured her sweet nature. Sedalia had attempted to harness the walking advertisement of her skill as a hairdresser into a bun, but a few strands had managed to break free. Her warm sepia skin glowed with exuberance and her wide-set eyes shone with enthusiasm and positivity. Even though her days of playing college tennis were long past, Sedalia retained her solid frame and strong arms that let the hugged know they were being grasped with affection.

  “You wouldn’t think Thursday would be so busy but, it seems everyone needed to get their hair done for the weekend. I really shouldn’t complain since my business has been jumping like a double Dutch competition since the feature Dallas did on the shop on her blog two months ago but sometimes this forty-five-year-old gets tired of making sure everyone’s hair is done.” Sedalia turned her smile toward the woman with the hair the color of oyster shells. “Kenly I’m so glad you could make it. I know when I texted you last week about driving up you weren’t sure if you could get the day off. It really made my day when you confirmed this morning. I figured since Faith was planning to be in town today, it would be gravy biscuits if my maid of honor and my soon to be wife’s best person could show up and help me pick out a dress. You know how much I love both of you and value your opinion.”

  Kenly smiled at Sedalia’s words of appreciation and gave her a hug. It took a while for the two to warm up to each other but after six years of the activist/cosmetologist being her sister’s constant companion, Kenly had grown to love and appreciate the role she played in Charlotte’s life.

  “Glad I was able to make it. I did promise I would come to at least one of your shopping trips to find a dress. I know we were supposed to connect when you came to Wilmington last week, but we were short-staffed at the hospital and I had to work a double. But here I am.” Kenly looked around the space. “I was telling your sister before you got here sitting here among these dresses takes me back to when I was shopping for my wedding dress. Our choices were no ways as fancy as this. All we had was one shop in my hometown and if we didn’t like that selection we could travel to Gastonia or Hickory to the mall. This is much better. Maybe if I get an idea of what your dress is going to look like I could help Charlotte pick out what she is going to wear. There is no need for the two of you to look like you are going to two different weddings. I’m sure the guests will get enough of that feeling from the bridal party get-ups. I appreciate the two of you wanting to be creative, but I really think the whole idea about letting people come as they are is a little bit too much.”

  “I know what we have planned is a bit unusual but since everyone standing up for us comes in different shapes and sizes, Charlotte and I thought it would be fair to let everyone pick out their own attire.” Sedalia accepted the glass of wine the bridal consultant offered her. The shop owner was a friend of a friend and was known for her wide selection of dresses that were affordable, stylish, and
made to accommodate brides with more expansive frames. Sedalia took a sip of the fizzy beverage and noticed with amusement how relaxed Kenly and Faith were acting. Obviously, neither of them had any issues with enjoying the complimentary libations offered to patrons shopping for a wedding dress. She had reserved the largest bridal showroom for two hours, which came with a free bottle of sparkling wine and a meat, cheese, and cracker tray. Hopefully, between Faith and Kenly they had left her enough to enjoy. She had been going full tilt since eight in the morning and the only thing that has passed through her lips was some juice and peanut butter and honey crackers. Charlotte usually sent lunch over every day but because she worked through her lunch break so she could close the shop early she didn’t have a chance to enjoy today’s selection.

  “We just don’t see the point of dictating someone spends money on something they might not wear again or doesn’t flatter them just because we like it,” Sedalia continued. “Our only stipulations were for my attendants to wear burgundy and her attendants wear navy. They know it’s going to be a wedding so no one will probably show up in a short set or a pair of jeans. Everyone will be in some type of formal or dressy attire. The key is that they are showing up to support us, not so much of what they are wearing.”

  Sedalia could tell Kenly still had some thoughts but they both realized it didn’t really matter what Kenly thought of what the attendants would be wearing. The key was that Charlotte and she were going to be married and they made the decisions about what to include on their special day. While they valued others’ opinions their ceremony was going to be reflective of who they were as a couple.

  The couple did plan to have some “traditional” aspects of their wedding date, well as traditional as a wedding can be between two lesbians of a certain age from different racial backgrounds. The ceremony would be held in a downtown hotel ballroom and be conducted by a pastor friend. Sedalia’s father would walk her down the aisle and she would carry a bouquet of a mixture of her and Charlotte’s favorite flowers. Sedalia would wear a white wedding dress and she planned to honor something borrowed tradition by wearing the burgundy trimmed veil of her childhood best friend who recently celebrated her twentieth wedding anniversary. Charlotte planned to get a new navy suit that covered the new and blue part. The old part would be a set of pearls passed down for three generations in Sedalia’s family that had been worn by every bride.

  Charlotte and Sedalia did plan to incorporate touches in the ceremony to make it unique and reflective of them as a couple. They plan on wearing silver sixpences in their shoes during the ceremony to honor Charlotte’s Scottish heritage and jump a broom at the conclusion to honor Sedalia’s African American roots. Charlotte will enter the ceremony to a Sarah Vaughn song that was playing the night they declared their love for each other. The couple will take their first steps as a married couple down the aisle to a Crystal Waters song which was Sedalia’s ringtone for Charlotte.

  While Sedalia will wear a wedding dress during the ceremony and Charlotte would wear pants, they would switch it up for the reception when Charlotte would wear a burgundy dress and Sedalia would wear a navy suit. The couple thought it would be a cheeky way to address the notion that since Charlotte was considered the dominant one in the relationship, she wouldn’t want to wear a dress as well on her wedding date. Charlotte and Sedalia never subscribed to labels in their lives but knew others around them lived to define others according to their standards and views. While their personal dressing preference leaned more toward jeans and T-shirts for Charlotte and dresses for Sedalia, they both wanted to be stylish on their special day. The reception attire was their secret and they had already picked out those outfits. However, they decided to keep each other in the dark about what they would wear to glide down the aisle.

  Sedalia had visited four shops throughout the state since the first day of spring and nothing struck her fancy. Maybe having Kenly and Faith at this final stop would be a good luck charm. Charlotte and she bonded over early in their relationship over the fact they each had an older sister who had been there for them for good and bad times. Since both their mothers were deceased, having Faith and Kenly there with Sedalia was like their mothers being there if not in body but in spirit. The thought triggered tears, but Sedalia refused to let sadness color this special day. She took a deep breath and motioned to the bridal consultant. “Since the gang is all here, I say let’s get the party started.”

  “Your sisters took the liberty of selecting some dresses for you to consider,” the pretzel-colored woman said. “Let’s get you started on a few and I will check to see if we have any others in a similar style that may work.” The consultant grabbed three dresses and motioned Sedalia to follow her into a dressing room that seemed bigger than her freshman dorm room. She shucked off her jade jumpsuit and pulled on the strapless long-line one-piece girdle she planned to wear during her ceremony. Sedalia called it the Body Snatcher for its ability to smooth out her stomach pooch and hoist her DDs. She grabbed the first one off the rack and soon realized the foe of frill Kenly must have selected this dress. It was a simple ecru full-length sheath with nary an embellishment. I can appreciate this is a classic look, but this looks like the start of a great dress, on to the next one. The next candidate, a halter dress with a wide skirt and lace overlay elicited a smile while she preened in the mirror. Okay, this is more like it. A little shoulder action but this isn’t giving me a fall wedding vibe. Maybe the third time will be the charm.

  Sedalia was never that little girl who dreamed about her big day and planned every detail. Living in the South as an out lesbian the whole concept of being legally married wasn’t a reality for the majority of her life. So it never occupied a high place on her to-do list. Instead, she spent her years building her business and protesting the injustices she saw in the world. She attended her first protest at the age of four with her parents and her first arrest was the day of her senior prom. During college, she combined her political activism with her sorority leadership. She was recognized as Zeta of the year by her sorority during her junior year thanks in part to the successful voter registration drives she spearheaded. Sedalia’s chapter registered a thousand voters during a homecoming weekend and sponsored two candidate forums. Her lesbian identity did cause some conflicts in some circles, but she didn’t let that detract her. In fact, she managed to engage in a number of dalliances and situations with others involved in the struggle. But she never considered finding someone who sent ripples of contentment throughout her body like Charlotte. Who would have thought a slice of pizza would lead to her standing in a bridal shop hoping to find just the right attire to celebrate a love she never knew how much she yearned for until it was right there in front of her?

  “How are you doing?” The consultant’s voice broke into Sedalia’s reminiscing. “I have two more for you to consider if you would like to swap.”

  She frowned at her reflection. This dress was cute, but it wasn’t up to the task of being what she wore to confirm her intention to commit herself to a lifetime with the owner of Peace and Pizza.

  “Thank you.” Sedalia handed the consultant two dresses in exchange for the ones in her hands. “My sisters doing okay?”

  “They are fine. I didn’t realize who your fiancé was until your ‘sister’ Kenly told me.” Sedalia heard the consultant’s words and also registered the surprise on her face that Charlotte was her fiancée. “I love the calzones at her place and had seen her a few times when I got food from the location near Science and Math, but I didn’t know she had someone. But now that I have met you, I could see the two of you together. Not your typical match I would give you that but one thing I have learned from working in this shop is that love knows no bounds and has no limits. When it’s right, it’s right.”

  Sedalia knew Charlotte and she seemed to be an odd match. She was a former debutante and daughter of an attorney and college professor who grew up in the state’s capital. Charlotte and her sister grew up in an unincorporated town in
Lincoln County that shares the same name as a mountain ski resort in Colorado on the family’s dairy farm. Sedalia’s family lead NAACP chapters and integrated schools while Charlotte’s relatives displayed Heritage, not hate bumper stickers on their cars and lived in neighborhoods where the only person of color they would encounter on a daily basis would be the mailperson.

  She knew to look at the former college shot putter, it would be hard to imagine Charlotte was a successful business owner who loved foreign films, be-bop, and speculative fiction. Sedalia loved to tease her partner with her brawny frame, nutmeg colored hair, and ruddy face she looked like she would be more at home driving an American made pick-up truck and blaring Patsy Cline instead of driving a Volvo listening to Cassandra Wilson.

  Sedalia admits she passed judgment about Charlotte when they first met. The two met during a Moral Monday march in 2013. The purpose of the events was for protestors to enter state legislature buildings to be peacefully arrested. Protests were held weekly to express opposition to the state legislatures’ policies involving voting rights, cuts to social programs, and public education. She had attended three prior events and been arrested once. This time she planned to attend just to support others who had not had the experience of being handcuffed, at least not in the name of social justice. She knew from experience that all kinds of folks were attracted to standing up for what was right.

  Charlotte showed up with her pizza truck offering slices of pizzas for sixty-one cents to symbolize the amount a black woman working full-time earns for every dollar earned by a white man. The first time Sedalia read the sign announcing the price and the rationale behind it, she murmured to herself, ‘What the hell is that about?’ The second time she walked by and noticed the line, she thought ‘Probably some huckster hoping to make some money off of hungry people trying to do the right thing.’ The third time she walked by, her stomach compelled her to put aside her misgiving. The entire time she was in line she questioned the motivation behind the pricing model but all the huffing she planned to expel evaporated once she came face to face with that engaging smile and twinkling eyes. She was so immediately attracted she didn’t bother to asking for her change back. Sedalia actually ended up purchasing several slices. The pizza tasted delicious and Sedalia had to admit it was a creative pricing strategy. Most people didn’t bother with getting change back.