I have to leave the perfect message. Nothing too wordy or anxious.
“Hi, Kyle. This is Alexis Parker from church, just giving you a ring. You can return my call at 713-555-5234. Take care and I'll talk to you soon.”
Now I had to go through the pain of wondering when or if he was going to call. One thing was for sure-I was not going to call before he did. I tried not to get my hopes up. I felt like I had to have control. So I dismissed him from my mind.
After about an hour of working, the phone rang.
“Hey girl, what's up?”
It was Angel.
“Not much. Where are you?”
“In my car. I had a doctor's appointment today.”
“That's right. Everything fine?”
“Hard to tell. They took more tests and said they'd get back to me. It's a good thing my insurance pays for all this crap.”
“Hmmm, you said ‘crap’ instead of a curse word. You're making progress. Are you sure that you're doing OK, girl?”
“Yeah, I'm a little nervous, but you know me. I try not to worry unnecessarily.”
“Where are you on your way to now?”
“Just home. Octavio's going to meet me there.”
“So what's up with that? Y all have been seeing each other pretty tough lately.”
“Well, he's cool. We've been friends for a while, but I think he's starting to get a little too attached. I've been giving him too much of my free time.”
“Angel, I don't know what it is you do to these men, but whatever it is, let me in on the secret.”
“The secret is to never let them know exactly how you feel. I don't care how good their intentions are. Men are conquerors. As soon as they know they have you, that's it.”
“Well, so many men say they want someone kind and attentive …”
“That's a bunch of bullsh—— I mean crap. Lexi, you've got to learn how to control your emotions. You meet a man and want to cook him dinner and pull out all the goodies on the first date. Let him work for the prize.”
“I don't know. It makes more sense to me that they'd want someone calm and sweet.”
“Lexi, you'll get it one day. Sweet is nice, but after a while, men get bored. I don't think they're satisfied unless they have a little drama in their lives.”
“You could be right. I know too many men dating obsessive fools.”
“See what I mean? I'm not asking you to go slashing any tires, but just cool out a bit.”
Maybe I am too nice.
“I can only be who I am. I can't help it if I'm warm and sensitive.”
“OK, ‘Warm and Sensitive.’ If what you're doing isn't bringing you the results you want, you need to change the formula.”
“I hear you.”
“Well, I have to go.”
“Take care, Angel. Tell Octavio I said hey.” We hung up.
I thought about what Angel said. It must have had some truth to it because it seemed like every man Angel dated was all caught up with her.
The loud ring jolted me out of my thoughts.
“Ms. Parker?”
“Yes, this is she.”
“This is Kyle Morris. How are you doing? I got your message.”
“Oh, hi. I didn't expect to hear from you so soon.”
“Yes, I've been very busy, but I wanted to take a quick moment to return your call. I can't talk long, but I wanted to know if you were free for lunch this Friday?”
“Well, yes, I am.”
“I'll call you back tomorrow and we can pick a place and a time to meet.”
“That sounds fine, Kyle.”
“I'll talk to you then.”
I hung up and shimmied my bootie a bit in my chair.
Okay, don't get too hyped. Remember what Angel said. Cool and calm.
I had to take it easy. I just didn't want to hurt anymore. The little excitement I felt from Kyle's call was suddenly extinguished by the wave of heartbreaks I'd previously suffered. My eyes started to water as I thought about how broken I sometimes felt, about how much of a disappointment all the men I'd dated had turned out to be. I just couldn't take another heartbreak. I promised to avoid it at all costs.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
ngel felt the emptiness of her apartment. She looked at her caller ID. Octavio had called twice. She was behind schedule and figured she'd call him when she was running out the door. In the shower, she started to think about her doctor's appointment and felt overwhelmed by anxiety. The doctor's news had shaken her. She couldn't believe she had to face the option of not having children. Her knees grew weak at the thought. She'd never had any type of surgery, and, until the doctor's report, she'd never even known what fibroids were. She touched her lower belly, as if she could feel them or make them dissolve.
Then she thought about Octavio again and felt even more anxious. She was getting dependent on him. He made her feel special, loved. She loved the way he smelled, the way his hair was slicked back and always glistening, the way he said her name in Spanish-An-gelita, his “Little Angel.”
I cannot get caught up with this man. Not now.
She suddenly felt uncomfortable. She longed to see him tonight, but also felt like she needed to be alone. As she got out of the shower, the phone rang. She grabbed her robe and reached for the cordless.
“Angelita, que pasa? Where've you been?”
“I had to run some errands. I'm dripping wet. I just got out the shower.”
“Oh, so you're that excited about seeing me.”
“Well, I was thinking, I'm really worn out from the doctor's. I wanted to see if we could postpone our date until the weekend.”
“Oh, alright. If you're feeling tired, I guess I understand.”
“What do you mean you guess?”
“I didn't mean anything by it, really.”
“Well, I'm really tired. I think you need to be a little more considerate based on the circumstances.”
“Angel, I know you may be a little on edge about your appointment, but chill out. Anyway, I wanna talk about how your appointment went. You OK?”
“Yeah, I'm fine. Anyway, I gotta go. I'll talk to you.”
Angel hung up the phone, quickly stifling her feelings of guilt. She couldn't deal with Octavio right now.
The next thing she knew, she was crying slow, continuous tears. She couldn't stop. She wiped the tears with the sleeve of her robe.
She got down on her knees and said nothing. She bowed her head. At that moment, nothing could soothe her. Old pain poured out uncontrollably. She cried and cried until there was nothing left inside.
God, please help me!
Angel succumbed to her tiredness and fell asleep. She woke up in the morning on the living room floor, curled up like a baby.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
was sitting in the Blue Moon Bistro, waiting for Kyle to arrive. I'd been fashionably late, but he was even later. I twisted my napkin back and forth. I tried not to stare at the entrance too long. I started to think I'd been stood up. Then I heard a voice from behind.
“Lexi, how long have you been here?”
I turned around and breathed a mental sigh of relief.
“Oh, for about ten minutes.”
“I'm sorry. My office paged me and I had to go use the phone. You look beautiful.”
“Thank you,” I said, trying to sound relaxed.
“So, how's your week been?”
“Not bad. Really busy. I just got a couple of new clients,” I said as I reached for my water.
“So, have you been here before?”
“No, this is my first time. What do you recommend?” I asked, picking up the menu.
“They have excellent pasta dishes.”
“I love pasta.”
Kyle looked like he was about to ask me a question when the waiter appeared.
“Mr. Morris, how are you today?” the waiter said.
“I'm doing great, especially since I have such great company.”
I t
ried not to blush.
“I'll have the penne pasta and chicken with alfredo sauce and the lady will have …”
“The same,” I said.
“Very good, Mr. Morris.” The waiter walked away.
“So, you're an attorney. Very impressive.”
“Well, I guess you could say that. It's not all it's cracked up to be.”
“It must've taken a lot of hard work to accomplish that. Don't take it lightly.”
“Yes, finishing school and passing the bar was a lot of work, but now my biggest challenge is establishing a business, and it takes a lot out of me sometimes, particularly finding paying clients.”
“I'm quite sure you're well on your way. You seem very savvy.”
“Thanks, Kyle. The feeling's mutual.”
“I hope you don't mind me asking this, Lexi, but do you have any kids?”
I smiled. “No, and I've never been married.”
“You don't have any kids and have never been married? What's wrong with you?” He laughed. I forced a smile.
If one more man asks me that, I'm gonna scream. I'm supposed to be the majority, not the minority. I'm tryin to do things the right way.
“I know you didn't just ask me that. The million-dollar question. ‘Well, the million-dollar answer is nothing.’ Have you ever been married?”
“No. No kids, either.”
“Well …”
“What's wrong with me? Nothing. I hope I didn't offend you. I'm just surprised an attractive woman such as yourself hadn't been snagged by some lucky man much earlier.”
He got more points for that.
“So do you enjoy being an accountant?”
“I'm a CPA, and yes I do enjoy it. I've always been good with numbers. So what do you like to do, Lexi?”
“Plays, movies, traveling, concerts-I'm pretty open. I just like to stay active.”
“Well, we'll have to make sure we find plenty of activities to indulge in as we get to know each other.”
Lord, yes!!!
“That sounds fine to me, Kyle.”
As I ate my food, I tried not to look like I was sizing him up. But it was hard not to. He was smart, articulate, a professional, polite, sexy-and he went to church! I thought about how “Parker” would sound hyphenated with “Morris.” Then I came back to earth.
He seems like such a keeper. Lord, don't fool me now. I am tired of false prophets.
After we ate and talked some more, he walked me to my car. He said he'd call me to see if we could coordinate going to church together on Sunday. I calmly smiled and said “sure” as my heart did flips and cartwheels. He gave me a hug and kiss and walked away. As I got in the car, I pretended to look for my keys so I could see what kind of car he drove. I watched him get into a black Mercedes.
I can work with that.
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
ngel drove through downtown on her way home, choosing the route to bypass highway traffic due to an accident. Her mind was in five different places.
She'd never really thought about the possibility of not having children. All the negative things she used to say about children weren't really true. She'd felt in her heart that she would eventually remarry and have kids. She was just scared.
The possibility of having a hysterectomy at such a young age was crushing. She felt like God was punishing her for talking so much about not having kids.
The pain in her heart was indescribable. She felt incredibly alone. She wanted to talk to Octavio, but felt ashamed because she'd been pushing him away so much the past few weeks. She was afraid that if he found out that she may not be able to have children, he would no longer want to be with her. She was confused, and terrified.
And then there's his age. But then again, there's a trend going on. Look at Demi Moore. She's forty or so and that guy she's dating is at least fifteen years younger. Since when do I care about what people think anyway?
I wonder what his family would think about us? Won't they be looking for him to bring some nice, young Hispanic girl home? But no other man has ever treated me so well. It doesn't matter now anyway, since we're not speaking. Angel took a deep breath. I really do miss his friendship.
She almost ran into the back of the car in front of her when she saw Octavio coming out of Ruggles, another of their favorite restaurants, with a slender Hispanic woman. She looked to be about twenty-seven years old. She tossed her dark wavy hair as they laughed and walked arm in arm.
Who in the heck is that? Angel thought as her nostrils flared.
She didn't know whether to be angry or hurt. What could she do? She reminded herself that she was the one who'd started pulling away. But Angel couldn't deny the extreme jealousy she was feeling at the moment. She was mad. Mad at everything. Mad because her first marriage failed. Mad because God didn't stop her from getting married in the first place. Mad because she was sick. Mad because everyone thought she was so tough and she wasn't. Mad because she thought she'd made it professionally, but now was disappointed in being at the top. Mad because she'd been talking to God lately, and it seemed like He didn't have a word to say. Mad because she didn't understand why her friends went to church every Sunday and still had problems. Mad because Octavio was with another woman.
I'm out of control. She turned on her radio. She put a halt to her silent rage long enough to listen to the lyrics of the song playing.
She listened carefully to the words and decided she was going to keep on praying until she heard from God. He couldn't possibly ignore her if she continued to bother him. All these people couldn't possibly be lying. She continued to listen to the radio, hoping they'd announce the singer of the song she'd just heard.
“That was ‘Just a Prayer Away,’ by Yolanda Adams. I know it's unusual for us to play gospel this time of day, but I figured at rush hour, our listeners need something to slow them down. Remember, He knows what you need before you really know it, so be encouraged and remember that God is still on the throne,” the radio announcer said with reassurance.
Angel took a detour and stopped at the record store.
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
ermane was excited about her new project. She was determined to bring some much-needed life and change to her home. As she drove up to the Java Stop, she anticipated seeing Naegel so she could tell him the good news. She reasoned that having him decorate two rooms in her house would give him experience and exposure. Yet she also knew she was flirting with fire.
When she walked in, she froze. A tall, reedy, dark-skinned woman stood in front of Naegel. Her hair was pulled up into a high ponytail that bounced with the slightest movement of her head. She had on a long black lycra skirt and a white sleeveless v-neck top with a black sweater tied around her thin waist. A small, totelike black purse hung from her thin arm. The woman's back was to Jermane and she was facing Naegel. Jermane wanted to turn around and walk out, but Naegel had already spotted her. He stopped talking.
“Jermane,” he called.
Jermane, halfway startled, walked over.
“Hey, how are you?” he said.
“Good,” she said.
“This is Kenya,” he said.
Jermane noticed how exotic Kenya's features were. Her skin was very dark, with an almost charcoal tone to it. She had high cheekbones and thin lips. Her eyebrows were neatly arched. Her lips were stained with a hint of cherry color. The rest of her face was completely bare with a slight glow of moisture. She looked no more than twenty-five. She was extremely poised, like a statuesque flower.
“How are you?” she said with an accent, tilting her head gracefully. Jermane remembered that Naegel said she'd been born in Trinidad, but was raised as a French Canadian.
“Oh, great,” Jermane said.
“I have heard a lot about you,” she said, looking Jermane up and down.
How much?
“Oh, yes, I've heard a lot of wonderful things about you as well,” Jermane said after a slight pause.
“Well, sweetheart, I am
going to be off. I have a shoot this morning. Ciao,” Kenya said as she kissed Naegel quickly on the lips. “Lovely to meet you, Jermane. Ciao.” She gave Jermane an air kiss, whirled around, and pranced away as if she were a dancing horse.
Jermane tried to regroup so she could tell Naegel about the decorating project, but she was thrown off by this unexpected scene. She was surprised by the immense jealousy she was actually feeling, hoping and praying it wasn't showing on her face. As much as Naegel talked about their lack of compatibility, he seemed pretty comfortable with Kenya.
“So, are you having the usual today?” Naegel said, interrupting Jermane's thoughts.
“Uh, oh yeah,” she said, snapping out of her trance.
“You're here a little earlier than usual,” he said.
“Yes, I wanted to discuss a proposal with you,” Jer-mane said.
“Oh, really? I'm all ears,” he said.
“Well, I talked to Rex about doing some redecorating, and naturally, I thought about you. This will be a way to build up your clientele. If you do a good job, we know a lot of people we could refer you to,” she said in a serious tone.
“Wow, that would be great. It would be an excellent addition to my portfolio!”
“Yes, I thought it was a good idea.”
“Well, when could we get together to discuss some ideas? And I need to look at the space,” he said.
“What about this weekend?” Jermane asked.
“Do you have some time during the week?” he said.
“Sure, I just said the weekend because I thought it would be better for you.”
“Normally it is, but Kenya just mentioned some last-minute plans for this weekend.”
“Well, alright. I don't have any classes on Thursdays. So how about this Thursday at 11 a.m.?”
“Sounds great.”
“I'll write down the directions for you,” Jermane said as she pulled out a pen.
“Cool. I'm going to get your cappuccino,” Naegel said.
Jermane sat there and wrote out the directions. She couldn't help but play back in her mind the scene that had just occurred. She felt like she was losing her mind. She had no business feeling jealous of Kenya and fought hard to suppress those feelings. There was a special bond with Naegel, but she had to draw the line with her emotions. She convinced herself she was in total control of her feelings and continued to write the directions to her house.
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