by Tina Martin
Days go by and I don’t hear anything from Priscilla or Trevor, that is until I get a dozen roses from Trevor with a note that reads:
I’m sorry, Ellie. Can you find it in your heart to forgive me?
-Trevor
“Aw, look at that. He misses you,” Karsheeda says.
“Yeah…misses me so much, he lets three days go by without trying to call me.”
“He was probably just giving you space. A man knows when he done pissed a woman off. Trust me.”
“I just don’t get it, Sheeda. It’s like, am I that pathetic that Priscilla would find some dude online and set this whole thing up?”
“Nah…ain’t nothing wrong with you, girl, and if your friend, and I use that term loosely, think there is, then honey, you need yourself some new friends. Real friends don’t play jokes on you, make you feel inferior and flash their so-called, fabulous life in your face. So what, her husband’s a millionaire? The man probably ain’t worth five cents otherwise. That’s why she always hanging on to you because ol’ boy off doing his own thang.”
“You’re probably right. I just didn’t think she would stoop this low. And then, when she explained herself, she had the nerve to try to put the blame on Trevor. She basically told me he wasn’t a good person and I shouldn’t worry because other guys would come along. It almost seems like she doesn’t want me to find anyone.”
“Exactly!” Karsheeda says. “People want to see you do good, but not better than them. Now, let the church say, amen.” She throws up a hand, waves it in the air and I can’t help but giggle.
“The truth of the matter is, Izzle, sometimes the very people who you think will be there for you, are the ones who drag you down.”
“But we were friends for so long,” I say.
“And during all that time, what has she done to help you get yo’ life?”
My goodness…I can’t think of a thing. It’s always been me helping her with college work, helping her bounce back after every breakup and being there at the drop of a dime anytime she needed me. How had I not seen this before? Perhaps it was easy to overlook when I’d deemed myself the one who didn’t have a life, so what was it for me to help make hers better?
“Can’t think of nothing, can you?” Karsheeda asks me. “And what I want to know is, why did Priscilla decide to come clean about what she did in the first place? I’ll tell you why—because she knew you would end things with Trevor, especially after the spin she put on the story. That way, you’ll be back to being her on-call best friend again. Show me where this conniving heffa lives because I want to choke the—”
“Calm down, Sheeda,” I say looking at her. She looks like she’s ready to roll up to Priscilla’s crib and give her the beat down of a lifetime.
“Call Trevor, text him or whatever,” she tells me. “Don’t let Priscilla dictate your life.”
“You’re right,” I tell her. I realize how Priscilla has manipulated the situation to make me see Trevor in a bad light like she wasn’t the originator of the entire plan. And I fell for it. I’ve been falling for her manipulative, selfish ways.
Not anymore.
Chapter 26
Trevor
He sent Elsie flowers yesterday and today while he waited for the moving company to bring the last of his furniture, he lowered his elbows to the counter and blew a frustrated breath against his hands as they covered his face. Every time he thought of Elsie, he could see the tears fall from her eyes. They served as a constant reminder of how badly he’d hurt her and also how much he wanted to make things right between them.
The sound of his front door opening interrupted his thoughts. He looked up and saw Reid entering.
“What’s up, man?” Reid asked.
“Nothing much…just waiting for this truck. They should’ve been here by now,” he said, glancing at his watch. “What are you doing here? I thought you were heading out of town for the weekend.”
“I am, but I thought I’d drop by here first. When I talked to you Wednesday, you seemed pretty bombed. Have you heard from Elsie yet?”
“Nope. Not a phone call, text…nothing.”
“She’ll come around.”
“Yeah. I hope so,” Trevor said.
“What will you do if she doesn’t?”
Trevor shrugged. “I don’t know.”
“Reason I’m asking is because I know your philosophy…you don’t chase women who don’t want you. You just let them go…like you did Rachel.”
Trevor sighed and dropped his head. To say he was annoyed was an understatement. At the same time, he knew he never made peace with how his relationship with Rachel had ended. He also knew his relationship with Elsie was different from what he had with Rachel. And it wouldn’t be a repeat of what happened with Rachel either. He would never give up trying to make things right with Elsie. He’d learned from experience – cutting people off didn’t provide either party the closure they needed to move forward.
“Um…” Reid blew a breath. “I almost didn’t stop by here to show you this. In fact, I’d passed your street, turned around to come back and left again. I’m back for the second time because I think you need to know this and I wouldn’t be a true friend if I left town without sharing this with you.”
“What is it, Reid?”
“Uh...” Reid scratched his head, unsure of how to break the news to him. “I found out something about—well, I think I know why Rachel broke up with you.”
“I don’t want to talk about Rachel right now, Reid. I have enough problems—”
“She was dying,” Reid blurted out.
Shock took over Trevor’s features. Did he hear him correctly? “What?”
Reid proceeded to hand him a copy of the obituary.
Trevor took it and began reading:
Rachel Wallace lost her battle with cancer on January 12, 2017...
“I was at mom’s and I saw it on the table in her living room,” Reid said. “Apparently she works with Rachel’s mother and decided to go to the funeral. Needless to say, I was shocked when I saw it just lying there on her table.”
“But—why wouldn’t she have told me?” Trevor asked out loud.
“Maybe she didn’t want you to know she was dying, Trevor. She didn’t call the wedding off to be with another man. She called it off to protect you.”
Trevor glanced down at Rachel’s picture on the front page. How could she make that call on her own? She had no right to protect him. He was supposed to protect her, but instead, he formed his own conclusions and allowed the distance between them to grow without trying to figure out why she’d left. And now, she was gone, had died two weeks ago and he had no clue she was sick.
“Look, man…I gotta go, man,” Reid said. “I just thought you might want to know that.”
Trevor was too lost in thought to respond. He just stood there, staring at the obituary in disbelief while Reid exited through the front door.
* * *
After his furniture was delivered and the movers had left, Trevor got in his jeep and drove to Rachel’s parents’ house. During the thirty-minute drive to Gastonia, he tried to make sense of it all but found it difficult to wrap his mind around the fact that Rachel was gone.
When he arrived, her mother answered the door and immediately sprang into tears. Trevor swallowed the lump in his throat and all he could ask was why.
“She wanted it this way, Trevor. She thought it would be easier if you didn’t know. She pleaded with us not to tell you.”
Trevor squeezed his eyes tight, turned away from her briefly to collect himself, then looked at her again and said, “She could’ve told me, Ruth. I would’ve been there for her.”
“And you would’ve been grieving right along with the rest of us, Trevor.”
“Yes, I would have, but at least I would’ve been there.” Trevor threaded his fingers behind his head and turned away from her again. “There’s nothing I can do now,” he said, angry and frustrated. “Nothing.”
“You can sti
ll say goodbye. I can show you where she’s buried.”
“No, Ruth. I don’t want to put you through that.”
“It’s no problem. I’ve been going every day since the service. I’ll get my coat.”
Trevor waited for her to come back outside.
Ruth came out, putting on her coat saying, “She’s buried on our land, right next to her grandmother.” She pointed over to the lot next to their house and began taking steps that way.
Trevor followed, grew more anxious and sad as they approached. And then he laid eyes on Rachel’s final resting place. The feeling was surreal because he never would’ve thought that she’d died but here she was – Rachel Wallace – A Soul Gone Too Soon her epitaph read.
Trevor wanted to talk to her, to ask why but the whys had already been answered. So, he stood there, remembering the good times he shared with her and deeply saddened that her life had an abrupt ending. As a final display of her love for him, she’d spared him from suffering – proof that she really did love him.
“When she found out about the cancer,” Ruth said, “The family got together and set her up with a transportation service to take her back and forth to her appointments. Rachel didn’t want us doing it. She said she didn’t want anyone to change their lifestyle to accommodate her, so she agreed to have a driver. Dave was always there to take her wherever she needed to go.”
Trevor nodded. Dave must’ve been the man he saw her with – the one who he assumed she’d left him for, and turns out, he was her driver.
“She really loved you, Trevor. Facing death makes people behave in strange ways we won’t understand until our time comes. But just know that she loved you.”
“Thanks for that,” Trevor said, throwing his arms around her, then they walked hand-in-hand back over to her house.
This was a lot to process, but he had to face the fact that Rachel was gone. For over a year, he’d resented her and now he hated himself for doing so. If he’d listened to Reid and sought her out, maybe he would’ve gotten to see her one last time before she died. But it was too little, too late.
* * *
Arriving home, Trevor pulled up into his driveway and was surprised when he saw his mother’s car. He jumped out, glanced inside of her car and when he didn’t see her, he continued on inside. There she was, in the kitchen stirring something in a pot on the stove.
“Ma, what are you doing here?” he asked, frowning.
“I can’t come to visit my only son?”
“How’d you get in here?”
“You left the door unlocked. Must’ve been in a hurry.”
“I was. Why are you here, Ma?” he asked again.
“I figured I could help you out around here,” Lana said stirring the beef stew she was busy making.
Trevor walked over to her, took her hands in his and asked, “Ma, why are you here?”
Lana sighed and said, “I left him, Trevor. I have clothes in the trunk and I need someplace to stay. If I can’t stay with you until I figure out what I’m going to do, I’ll stay at a hotel.”
“Are you kidding me? There’s no way I’m letting my mother stay at a hotel,” he said, throwing his arms around her, proud that she finally took a stand. “I’ve been trying to get you to leave him for years.”
“I know, but I love your father. You know that. He is who he is, but he gave me the greatest gift I’ve ever received and that’s you.”
“What made you finally leave him?”
“I guess I have Rachel to thank for that. After talking to her last weekend, I realize that I want to be happy. I deserve it.”
“You do, Ma.”
“Speaking of Rachel, where is she? Do you two live together?”
“About that,” Trevor began as his mother returned to stirring stew. “The woman I brought to your house wasn’t Rachel.”
Lana looked puzzled. “What?”
“The real Rachel and I had broken up before we were going to get married. Well, she broke up with me, didn’t offer any reason why, no phone call, text or anything.”
“What happened?”
“Today, I found out she had cancer, and she’d ended our relationship because she knew she was dying and didn’t want to hurt me. I hadn’t seen or heard from her in over a year and I just found out she passed a couple of weeks ago.”
His mother gasped. “I’m so sorry, son.”
“Thanks,” he said.
“Are you okay?”
“I’m fine. It’s a weird feeling because I’d already purged her out of my heart, so in a way, I felt like she was already gone.”
“Then, I have to ask…if that wasn’t Rachel you brought to my house, who was she?”
“Her name is Elsie.”
“Elsie,” Lana repeated. “So, you had Elsie pretend to be your fiancée?”
“Yes.”
“Now, son, why on earth would you do something like that?”
“I knew how badly you wanted me to get married and I didn’t want to upset you with the news of my broken engagement.”
“But the chemistry between you and Elsie—my God—the woman loves you to death.”
“How do you know that?” he asked.
“Every time she looked at you, she had a twinkle in her eyes. And you, son, you’re in love with her, too. I saw the way you kissed her on the porch.”
Trevor grinned. “It was just a kiss, mother.”
“Oh, no it wasn’t…not to mention the fact that you could hardly keep your eyes off of her. She’s special, isn’t she?”
“Yes.” Trevor smiled. “She is.”
“Well, where is she?”
“Probably somewhere hating my guts right now.”
“What happened?”
“It’s a long story, and you have enough to be worried about instead of concerning yourself with my problems.”
“Ain’t that the truth…”
“What did dad say when you left? Have you talked to him?”
“Yeah, he called me and rambled on and on about how I would never find a man like him.”
“That’s a good thing,” Trevor said, laughing.
Lana cracked up, too.
“Anyway, you can stay here as long as you like. Don’t feel any pressure to go back. I’m proud of you.”
“Thanks, son. I appreciate it. Now, sit down here and eat some stew so you can figure out how to get Elsie back.”
“Mother—”
“What? You want her back, don’t you?”
“I do.”
“I know you do. Now, sit down. Looks like you’ve been in this house working your behind off. It’s time to take a load off and let mama help you out a lil’ bit.”
Trevor cracked a smile. He could use some comfort and comfort food right about now and who best to get that from than his mother – the woman who’d always had his back?
Chapter 27
Elsie
I miss him. My every thought is consumed with him. Trevor brought excitement into my dull life. Now, there is no excitement. No anticipation of what’s to come. I’m me again. Boring Elsie. What’s confusing is, I’m still pissed at him and I think I have a right to be. But I can’t deny that I miss him. That I wish things were different and that I handled this situation with more tact instead of reacting on raw emotion. But, spur-of-the-moment when this was dumped on me all at once, I reacted the way I reacted. I was hurt, still am to some degree, but hindsight being 20/20, I could’ve handled it so much better than I did. I didn’t have to shut Trevor out and cut Priscilla off. People I care about even though they’ve wronged me. And I could’ve sent Trevor a ‘thank you’ text for the apologetic roses he sent to my office. But I made no effort to connect with him. Now, I’m sitting here lost, daydreaming about what could’ve been while remembering what was.
If what Priscilla said is true, and Trevor was just pretending to like me, why did my time with him feel so real? Why when he kissed me, he made a serious effort to make a lasting impression? And why on e
arth would he keep planning dates? Could a man pretend to like a woman that long?
“Men. Ugh!” Karsheeda grunts after arguing with her baby daddy.
Her comment has me thinking that maybe I’m better off without a man in my life, especially since I’ve never had the kind of confusion I feel now after everything went down with Trevor. The roses he sent me on Friday are still in their own little corner on my desk.
“Are you alright, Sheeda?”
“I’m fine,” Karsheeda says. “It’s my son’s daddy that’s fenna have a busted lip. Hey, speaking of busting lips, have you heard from Trevor?”
“No.”
“Why not? You didn’t thank him for the roses, did you?”
“I didn’t. I didn’t know what to say.”
“I’ll tell you what to say.” Karsheeda changes her voice to what I assume is supposed to be her sexy voice when she says, “Hey, Trevor. Come here, bebby. I wanna bite you. Yum, yum, yum.”
I chuckle. “Girl, you’re crazy. You were just snapping on your baby daddy and now you’re trying to convince me to talk to Trevor.”
“It’s obvious you miss him. You’ve been sulking all day.”
“I know, and I do miss him,” I admit.
“Then I say go get what’s yours, Izzle.”
“But he ain’t mine.”
“He is yours and he’s ripe for the picking. And guess what? Guess what?”
“What, Sheeda?” I ask, unenthused.
“It’s harvest season, baby!”
“Harvest season?” I repeat, laughing.
“Yes. You better go get your man, girl. Now, he done made the first move by sending you roses. It’s your turn to make a move.”
I know she’s right. I’m just not sure how to execute that move. And even though I am beyond pissed with Priscilla, I know I need to talk to her, too, so on the way home from the office, I drive over to her house, ring the doorbell and wait. She answers quickly and says, “Please tell me this means you’ve forgiven me?”