“Boy, please,” she said and waived him away. “Like you have a chance with either one.”
“Chris, man, wassup?” Kevin said as he shook Chris’s hand. “About time y’all got here. I have whipped everybody, I mean everybody in just about every game of spades. Finally, some real competition.”
“You are always talking smack. I don’t have any problems giving you a beat down in your own house. Baby, fix me a plate.”
I took a deep breath, then smiled at Chris. “Okay, sure.” The house was full of Kevin’s family. It was obvious they were related because all of them were loud. According to Jewel, they could wear the heck out of a welcome.
“Jewel girl, how are you going to get these people out of your house?” I asked her as I looked around.
“Easy . . . no alcohol.”
“That’ll do it. But I think someone pulled a fast one on you with the eggnog. You might need to smell it.”
We finally made our way over to the food table. There were Hefty paper plates on a paper tablecloth with plastic ware. The nicest things on the table were the punch bowls. This was nothing like Jewel’s regular affairs.
“Girl, I know what you’re thinking, but I’m not bringing all my good stuff out so Kevin’s people can mess it up. Wait a minute, that’s the doorbell.”
“How could she tell?” I thought, as I watched her fight to get to the door. When she reached it, I heard a squeal.
Soon she was walking back with Capri in tow.
“Hey, Lexi,” she said, giving me a hug. “Okay, you’re not still mad at me for the lunch thing with Missy, are you?”
I waved my hand. “Girl, please. Where’s Anthony?” I said as I looked past her.
“He’s in the kitchen watching the card game. Whoa, it’s hot up in here.” She started fanning herself.
“I wouldn’t leave him alone too long. You know how some of Kevin’s relatives are. I wouldn’t put my purse down either.”
“Lexi, you know you’re wrong!” We all started to laugh because we knew it was true. Capri grabbed her purse strap a little tighter.
“I’m gonna take a plate to Chris, but do y’all want to go to the sun porch? It’s a little less crowded. This is a bit much.”
“Yeah.” Capri and Jewel walked off toward the porch.
I finally made my way over there and dropped in a chair. “Was that Kevin’s ex I saw in the living room with a date?” I asked.
“She finally found somebody? Jewel, you know that’s the only reason you invited her,” Capri said.
“No, not really. I’m just trying to work with the situation.” Jewel sat on a nearby lounge chair.
“Jewel please, you’ve come far, but not that far,” I said as I sipped on some wassail.
“Anyway, Capri, have you made New Year’s plans yet?” Jewel asked.
“Uh, yeah. We’re going out of town.” She smiled a little.
“Oh, okay, that’s nice.”
What? We always do Dick Clark on New Year’s Eve. Another tradition broken . . .
“Anthony surprised me, we’re going out of town. He already made the travel plans. Where’s Angel?” Capri said, changing the subject.
Okay, I’m just gonna play crazy. I’m not even going to react to what she just said. We always spend New Year’s Eve together. “She said she was coming, but I don’t know. She’s with Octavio; they went to church earlier.”
“Dang, they’re definitely becoming the ‘ un-fun’ couple,” Jewel said. “I mean Jesus is the reason for the season, but you gotta celebrate, shake your bon-bons, step in the name of love—” A big crash stopped Jewel’s rambling.
Curious, we all looked off toward the noise.
“Okay, who broke my sorority plate!” Jewel said.
“We were out of plates and I . . .” Kevin’s Uncle Pookie said.
“All you had to do was ask. Kevin, come clean this up!” Jewel yelled.
“Ah, it ain’t a real party unless somebody breaks something,” Uncle Pookie said, holding the drumstick he was able to save.
I wanted to laugh, but Jewel looked serious.
Jewel just shook her head. She was starting to fuss when someone put on “Step in the Name of Love” by R. Kelly. All of a sudden, there was a crowd of people swinging out in the living room.
“Aw, baby, it’s just a plate,” Kevin yelled. I watched as he grabbed her hand and hugged her.
Before Jewel could say another word, he swung her around and they started to two-step in the kitchen. I think Jewel may have realized it wasn’t about the plate. We all took a moment to appreciate the festive atmosphere of family and friends.
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
“Angel” Tree
Octavio jumped on the marble island and watched Angel maneuver over the stove.
“I know you don’t have your butt on my countertop,” she said without turning around.
“Angel, how many times do I have to tell you? You don’t put any fear in my heart.” He pulled his phone out after it started to ring. He read the number and slid it back in his jeans.
“Somebody you don’t want to talk to?” Angel said as she piled the chicken, drowned in marsala sauce and mushrooms, on a plate.
“My mother, she always calls on Christmas Eve. But the last time we spoke she was still nagging me about going to see my father.”
“Well, she has a point.” Angel turned toward him to look into his eyes.
“He barely understands what I’m saying anyway.” He paused. “Hey, did I tell you you’re looking mighty good playing chef? You need to do it more often.” He walked over and pulled her away from the stove. He grabbed her and began to hug and tickle her.
“Okay, stop. I said stop!” She couldn’t contain her laughter. She tried to break away, as he held her wrists.
He finally let her go, but not before he pecked her on the cheek. They moved over to settle on the couch and eat.
“This is good, babe,” he said with his mouth half full.
“Thanks, Octavio, but can you finish chewing before you talk?” Angel said as she watched him continue cleaning his plate.
When they finished their dinner, Angel went back in the kitchen to check on her Christmas cookies.
Octavio walked across the hardwood floors and reached to touch one of the ornaments they had hung on her Christmas tree. He peered out the large windows that wrapped around the expanse of her high-rise loft. Octavio could see all of downtown including the city attorney’s office building where he worked. In the distance he could even see the Aquarium’s blue lights and Ferris wheel. “The view is a really peaceful sight from up here.” He closed his eyes, allowing the image to remain in his mind.
“I’m sorry, baby, what’d you say?” Angel said as she removed the cookies from the oven. “Sure you don’t want some?”
“I’ll try one, but I’m craving that apple pie,” he called and walked back over to recline on the couch.
When Angel returned, he admired how relaxed Angel was in her yoga pants and tank top. She handed him a slice of pie and dropped down next to him. She sat back, focusing on the flat-screen television. “Church was nice today, wasn’t it?” She sipped on a cup of fresh-brewed coffee.
“Yeah, it was. You know Jewel’s never going to let us hear the end of it since we stood up her and her fabulous party,” he said as the warm apple and ice cream melted in his mouth.
“She’ll get over it. Besides, Lexi called and said there was plenty of food, but the party was too crowded, loud, and . . . ghetto.” She grabbed the remote.
“I wasn’t in the mood for all of that,” he said as he rubbed her leg.
“Me neither. So, what will it be? We can have a holiday movie festival or we can watch something else.” She started scrolling through the television menu.
“Doesn’t matter to me,” he said as he shoved another piece of pie in his mouth.
“You always eat too fast. C’mon . . . get in the spirit.” She slapped his thigh. “We have It’s a
Wonderful Life or The Grinch, and you know Lifetime is having a holiday movie marathon. We can always watch an action flick.”
He smiled and leaned over to kiss her. “I love you, you know that?”
“You still didn’t answer my question,” Angel said.
“Well, I’m really not in the mood to watch some cheesy holiday movie.” He grabbed the remote from her hand. “You know I’m not big on holidays; not everybody had a Brady Bunch Christmas like you.”
She stopped eating and turned to look at him. “Okay, you don’t have to be so touchy. I thought we were having a great day.” She grabbed the remote from him.
“I’m sorry. Holidays bring back some unpleasant thoughts.”
“Okay, let’s just relax then. No more talking.”
Without saying another word, he placed his head on her shoulder. She switched to the jazz music cable channel. Then she grabbed Octavio’s hand to pull him off the couch. He pulled her into his arms and they started to sway.
After about twenty seconds, she pushed him away. “Okay, that’s enough.”
“What? I was just getting into it.” He looked her in the eyes before she walked away. He followed her to the couch. He leaned his head back and brought his fist to his head. “Angel, I can’t do this.”
“Octavio, yes you can.”
“Angel, I love church and I love you. But all the prayer in the world won’t keep me from wanting you.” He looked her in the eyes and locked his fingers with hers.
It didn’t help, the way his steel gray cashmere sweater fit his broad, snugly frame. His cologne left a trace on her skin and she was hypnotized by the scent. God, please help me.
She walked toward the window and stared at the lights. He got up and stood behind her. He ran the back of his hand gently against her face. “Baby, I need you.”
She closed her eyes. “I—I can’t.”
“Remember how it used to be.” He kissed her on the neck and rocked her back and forth in his arms. She began to sway with him.
“Please, stop,” she whispered quietly as she grabbed his hand. He raised and kissed the back of her hand. “Octavio, Octavio . . . stop!”
Octavio sat up, thinking about the leftover food in the fridge. He was about to get a plate, but changed his mind. He let his body fall back on the cushions. I can’t believe I’m on the daggone couch. I really can’t believe this. After tossing, turning, and releasing a few sighs, he finally dozed off.
Later, in her room, Angel rolled over and felt the empty space next to her; all kinds of thoughts consumed her mind. She kicked the covers off. I know I’m not having a daggone hot flash. I’m too young for that! She knew what was up, she was battling her flesh. She finally started dozing when she heard Octavio screaming.
“No, no, no!!!”
She grabbed her robe and ran into the living room. She went over to shake him. His shirt was off and he was wringing wet. “Octavio, Octavio!”
He finally jumped up. “Huh? What? I didn’t do it, I swear, I swear!” He started rocking back and forth as he grabbed his knees.
“Octavio?” Angel was kneeling next to the couch, trying to shake him into coherence.
“Angel? Angel? I didn’t do it.” He yanked her off the floor and grabbed her tight. He was shaking.
What in the world is going on? Angel didn’t say anything, waiting for Octavio to speak first. He finally released her and walked to the bathroom without uttering a word.
He came back after several minutes. He took her hand and walked to her bedroom. He pulled back the covers for her to get in, and he climbed in behind her. He placed her head on his chest. “Baby, I need to talk.”
“You don’t have to if you don’t want to,” Angel said quietly as she put her arm around his waist.
“I need to get this out. I have to . . . Angel, when I was a kid in Mexico—I guess I was about eleven—it was a few days before Christmas . . .” He swallowed hard.
Angel lay still.
“My father, he—he killed a man.”
“Octavio, oh my God, no wonder—” She tried to sit up, but he grabbed her.
“No, wait, just let me finish. I need to say this. We were at the park for a holiday festival. My father and another man had gone out into the woods and started drinking. I followed them. Soon they got into a fight over some money. My dad stabbed him to death and I let out a scream. My father heard me. When he found me, he grabbed me and ordered me never to tell, holding that same knife to my throat. The authorities never found out who really did it. Angel, there was just blood everywhere . . .”
She reached up and kissed him gently on the lips, wrapping her arms around him tight, and spoke calmly. “So all this time, you’ve kept this to yourself?”
“Crazy, isn’t it? . . . all these years.” He gently brushed his hand over her cheek. “I guess during the Living Victoriously Bible study the Holy Spirit started dealing with me. It really started getting worse when that prayer partner laid hands on me.”
“Octavio, God led you to that class. That incident and your father have had a strong hold on you. None of it was your fault, so you need to let go of any shame,” Angel said quietly as she rubbed his forearm.
“I know that now. I can’t believe I kept this mess inside all this time. I’m not sure what I was more afraid of, my father or the guilt. I knew what happened. I was a witness and I never told.”
Angel could sense his hurt. “That fear has no power over you now. You’ve been delivered.”
“Baby.” He started to kiss her hair, then her face.
She closed her eyes and wanted to totally release herself to the moment. “Octavio, I can’t . . .”
He grabbed her chin. “Yes you can . . . just forget it.” He rolled over with his back toward her. “Don’t you understand? You’re all I have. I need you right now. I need you to make it alright.” He curled his body into a ball.
She pulled him back toward her.
He pulled her close to him and took a deep breath. “Angel, you’re my family.” She touched his face, then his lips, and felt his pain. “I can’t let you push me away too.”
Angel pressed her face into her sheets. She rolled onto her back. God, I’m sorry. I tried, I tried. Her eyes began to tear up and she quickly began to wipe them before Octavio came back in the room. “I messed up,” she said quietly.
Octavio was walking toward the bedroom with breakfast when he heard her prayers. His heart sank when he made out her words and the guilt began to taunt him. God, what
are we supposed to do? He took a deep breath and walked in with the tray.
“Morning, babe,” he said as he placed the tray across her lap.
“Hey,” she said with a faint smile.
“Look,” he stared into Angel’s eyes. “I know we messed up and it’s my fault. It’s just that, well, I hadn’t touched you like that in a while.”
“Yeah, I know,” she said, her eyes downcast.
“Angel.” He grabbed her hands. “I’m proud of your relationship with God. I’m not quite there yet, but I promise not to pressure you again.”
“It was my choice, it’s not like you forced me,” Angel said.
He looked down for a minute. “Why does life have to be so complicated?”
She sipped her juice, then spoke. “How ’bout for now we just say a little prayer. Then maybe we can talk about some boundaries,” she said. “Maybe make a list of things we can and cannot do.”
“Angel, a list? Is it that serious?” Octavio dropped his head for a moment and rubbed his neck.
She wasn’t smiling. “Yeah, it is.”
He didn’t respond, just leaned over and kissed her. He pulled back and smiled. He brushed her lips with his two fingers, then grabbed her hands . . . for prayer.
Jermane was relieved their big holiday party was over. But she couldn’t help but smile, thinking about the new faces, many of them socialites who’d showed up this year. A small part of her felt proud that her annual holiday part was a
lways a “must attend” on the Houston social circuit. Even Shelby Hodge, the entertainment reporter for the Houston Chronicle had stopped by.
“Babe, wasn’t this year’s party the biggest and most well done yet?” Jermane asked, but he didn’t answer her. “Rex, did you hear me?”
He finally looked up from his book. “To tell you the truth, Jermane, I’m kind of getting tired of doing this every year. I mean it’s the same people. The same food, the same conversation.”
“Rex, what’s really your problem? I thought you always enjoyed this?”
He put the book down. “I don’t know, babe, I’m sorry. Jermane, what if I just up and decided one day that I didn’t want to practice law?”
She looked over at her husband. She studied his face, and finally spoke. “Rex, what’s going on with you? You’re one of the best lawyers in Houston. Is it my dad again? He hasn’t really interfered in our marriage and he’s given you freedom at the firm. He’s not on you about your hours anymore.”
“It’s not that,” Rex lied. He wanted to tell her the truth. He wanted to tell someone, but he just internalized it all. “I mean Jermane, these people that come to our house every year don’t show up because they like us. They’re just nosy. I know you grew up in Houston and maybe you’re used to it, but there are times when I just can’t stand it all.”
“Rex, stop acting weird. You know, maybe you need to make a little change. I mean try a different area of practice. Or maybe we just need to get away for a short vacation,” she said, trying to probe her husband.
“Is it that simple, Jermane? There are days when I just want out. There are days I just want to be free. I don’t want to have to worry about your father and the firm’s reputation.” “Wow, where is all this coming from?” Jermane grabbed his arm and her eyes commanded his attention.
He took a deep breath. “I don’t know, Jermane. I didn’t come from money. This world can be overwhelming. I feel like I’m losing myself in all this. You don’t understand. You think your father is God, but he’s just a human being,” he barked.
The Sunday Brunch Diaries Page 11