“For what? To tell me more lies? Fuck you, Charity. You’ll be hearing from my attorney.” He hangs up.
I sit there like a fool with the phone in my hand, hoping and praying that everything that just happened was a bad dream. Then I feel the tears on my face. They’re still warm. They’re still flowing. I hang up the phone and I know that this isn’t a dream. It’s the worst day of my miserable life.
32
I can’t stop crying. I can’t go to sleep. I can’t think. My hurt is too deep to make any kind of responsible decision. I just know that it feels as if my heart has been cut out of my chest with an ice pick.
When I look in the mirror at my swollen eyes, I’m disgusted with myself. Why didn’t I listen to Kai, the twins, and Herman?
I wash my face with cold water and go into the kitchen. It’s 5:15 A.M. I prepare a pot of coffee and take a seat at the table. Kai is planning on driving back to Nashville around two this afternoon.
Jamone comes into the kitchen when I am preparing a cup of coffee. “Hi, son. Did you sleep well?”
“No.” He walks up to me and gives me a hug. “I heard you and dad arguing last night on the telephone. I started to come in your room later, but I didn’t know what to say.”
“Oh. I’m sorry that I was so loud. And I’m sorry for being so bullheaded and not listening to the good advice that you gave me about April. I should have known that Jett would react this way.” Tears cloud my eyes. I wipe them away with my sleeve and go to sit at the table.
Jamone gets a glass of apple juice out of the refrigerator. “I’ll talk to him. I’m sure this can all be resolved in a few days.”
I shake my head no. “No, son. I think that Jett is through with me. You should have heard the hatred in his voice when he was arguing with me. He’s never spoken to me like that before.” I feel that ice pick chipping at the remainder of my heart. This time I don’t wipe away the tears. It’s useless.
Jamone takes a seat opposite me. “I told Javed about Dad’s call. He’s going to go with me to talk to him later. We know that he’s staying at a motel near Highway 64.”
“Oh my God, Jamone. How did I let it come to this? I didn’t want Jett to leave me. I don’t want a divorce. I love that man.”
“I know, Mom. I know how you’re feeling. You should try to get some rest.”
“Look, son. Your mom will be okay.” I try to pull myself together and assume my role as the parent again. “You guys are going to be fine too. We come from strong stock.”
“Don’t worry. I’ll fill Kai’s tank up with gas. What time is she leaving?”
“At two. Thanks, Jamone.”
Just then, Kai comes traipsing down the steps. “Good morning, everybody. Why are y’all up so early?” She stretches, and then goes to pour herself a cup of coffee.
Kai walks up to me and stares. “Have you been crying?”
I nod yes. “Jett called last night.” My voice is hoarse and my hands are trembling. “I don’t know if he’s ever coming back.” I drop my arms on the table and place my head on top of them. My shoulders shake while tears rack my body.
Kai comes over and pats me on the back. “Don’t worry, honey. We’ll get things worked out. Jett will be back. He just needs a little time alone to think about things. You and I know how much he loves you.”
I raise my head. “You mean used to love me.”
“Mom,” Jamone says, “I’m going to let you two talk.” He turns his attention to Kai. “I got the keys to your Jaguar off the key rack. I’m going to fill it up for you.” He smiles and leaves.
“I don’t have to go home, Charity. Maybe I should stay until Jett comes back. I can—”
“No, this is all my fault.” I pat her hand. “Don’t change your plans. The boys and me will set things straight with Jett. I appreciate your offering to stay with me, but I’ve got to pay for my own mistakes. Can you understand that I need to fix this on my own?”
For the next five hours, Kai and I go over Jett’s and my entire argument last night. We’ve dissected every plausible scenario and realize that there was nothing I could have done last night to make Jett see my point. It’s apparent that he’s not ready for a reconciliation yet.
Kai takes a shower and packs her things. When she comes back downstairs, she hugs me so hard I can hardly breathe. She promises to call me when she gets home.
Unfortunately, the twins aren’t able to talk Jett into coming back home. In fact, he tells them that he is filing for a divorce. I have dialed his number at least sixty times, but only get voice mail. I leave him pleading messages, telling him how sorry I am. I beg him to give me another chance.
Days go by and I hear nothing back from him. I’m thinking seriously about going to see a therapist. Even going alone would help my state of mind and help me to put my marriage into perspective. I make a mental note to call one today.
Herman comes over to support me. He’s healed physically, but not mentally. He’s sorry about the separation, but knew it was coming. He doesn’t have to say, ‘I told you so.’ That is already obvious. He wants to take me back up in his plane so that I can relax. I’m thankful, but ask for a rain check.
When Jett’s birthday arrives on June ninth, I don’t hear a peep from Jett. I’m so brokenhearted I feel numb. At this point, I have no more tears left. Only regrets.
By the seventh week, I still am unable to eat or sleep. Dark circles form under my eyes, and new worry lines are beginning to etch my face, but I couldn’t care less.
I’ve seen a female psychologist several times. She wants to put me on Xanax for my depression, but I refuse. I want to get through this on my own mettle. I don’t want to numb my emotions. I want to feel every ache and pain. That way, I’m constantly reminded that I’m not dreaming. The divorce action that Jett’s taken is real. I need to be strong and keep all my wits about me.
Then Kai calls. She has some disturbing news. Lynzee’s at it again.
“You’re not going to believe this,” Kai says, “so brace yourself.”
“Tell me. Nothing can shock me now.”
“This might. Lynzee has taken out a half page ad in the New York Post and blogged on Twitter and Facebook. She’s acknowledging the discovery of her long lost daughter, April Tempest. She’s having a party at her home on July third to welcome her daughter into the Lavender family.” She takes a breath. “But the kicker is that she announces that April’s father is Jett Evans. There’s a photo of April and Jett holding hands.”
“What! Did he get a paternity test already? Or is he taking Lynzee’s word for it?”
“I’m not sure. All I know is that, in my opinion, Lynzee is trying to embarrass you.”
“No shit. Last time I talked to her about April she said that she wanted nothing to do with April because she’s an alcoholic and she’s gay. I guess she’s back in touch with her—or at least pretending to be, just to hurt me.”
“What are you planning to do?”
“What can I do?” I rub my temples with my palm. I’m hurt beyond belief.
“Take out an ad. Blog on the Internet, too.”
“To say what?”
“That you’ll support Jett’s daughter and make sure that she has a relationship with his sons.”
“But I’d be lying.”
“So? At least it will exonerate you.”
I rest my right hand on my right hip and cock my left leg. “I’ve done enough lying already. I refuse to get caught up in another lie. If Jett wants to have a relationship with his daughter, let him. I’ve given him thirty good years. I’ve been a good wife, help-mate and mother. I’ve also been a more than a decent sister to Lynzee. I don’t need to prove anything to anybody.”
“Maybe you should think about this before you make a rash decision.”
“No, I’ve had enough. I’m getting real mad now about this whole thing. It’s not my fault that April was born. Jett swore that he used a condom when he dated Lynzee. Then how could she get pregnant? One
of them is lying. I believe it’s Jett. He hates using condoms.”
“Most black men do.”
“And he’s no different. I tried dozens of times to make him use condoms in the beginning of our marriage. We had agreed that we didn’t want children, but the birth control pills that I was on were constantly making me sick. Plus, I started getting blood clots. It didn’t matter. Jett still wouldn’t agree to use the condoms.”
“What’d you do?”
“I talked my doctor into fitting me with an IUD. You weren’t supposed to get those put in unless you’d already had a baby, so it was a tough sell to my doctor. After ten years, I decided that I wanted kids and had it taken out. I got pregnant eight months later. You know the rest.”
“What do the twins make of all this?”
“They don’t want to have anything to do with April. The sad thing is, they’re so mad at their dad right now, they don’t have too much to say to him either.”
“Yeah, Javed and Jamone have always been mama’s boys.”
“You’re damned right.” For a brief instant, I feel relief. I decide right then and there that I’m going to stop feeling sorry for myself. I’ve still got my sons, my health, and my career.
“Kai, thanks for keeping me updated, but it’s time that I got my shit together. I’m getting ready to go upstairs to my office and get to work. My agent has been calling me, but I haven’t returned her calls. It’s time that I did.”
“Okay, then. I’m proud of your new attitude. You do your thang, lady.”
“Thanks. Bye.”
I force a smile, make myself a pastrami and cheese sandwich, grab a Sprite, and head upstairs. Suddenly, I’m ravenous. I turn on Maxwell’s CD and let the music soothe my soul as I eat my sandwich and quench my thirst. When I’m finished, I dial Arlene’s number. I’m feeling stronger as each minute passes by.
“Hello, Arlene. It’s Charity Lavender. I’m returning your call.”
“Why, hello, Charity. I was just thinking about you. I’ve got some good news.”
Just what I need. “Tell me. Did you hear from my editor?”
“Yes. They’ve agreed to accept A Woman’s War as your next book. They want you to change the title, though. They want the word ‘Afghanistan’ in it.”
“That’s not a problem.”
“There’s more. Twentieth Century Fox is thinking about buying the movie rights.” Her voice is excited. “Isn’t that great?”
“Yes, I couldn’t be more pleased.” I pause. “Arlene, did you read the blog that Lynzee put on the Internet and in the New York Post?”
“Yes, I did, and so did your publisher.”
“And what do you or they conclude from this tactic to sabotage my career?”
“I’m shocked. This ad had to have cost a pretty penny. Lynzee always does things big, no matter what the cost. I guess that’s the privilege of the rich and famous.”
“I agree.” I put the receiver closer to my mouth. “Do you think I should make any kind of response?”
“I didn’t, but your publisher does. Since you’ve got a new book coming out, they don’t want anything affecting the sales. They asked me to ask you to come up with an article that tells your side of the story. It doesn’t have to be long. Just let the public know that you support your husband’s daughter.”
The hairs rise on the back of my neck. “I can’t do that, Arlene. I wouldn’t be telling the truth. I don’t support that heffa. She’s responsible for ending my marriage. Why should I lie?”
“Good point.”
“I’m tired of being the scapegoat. I haven’t done anything wrong.”
“I’ll convey your thoughts to Gail. After all, she’s been married for about thirty-three years and is now getting a divorce, too. I’m sure she’ll understand.”
“Good. I’ll talk to you soon, Arlene.” I hang up.
I stand up and stretch. I walk to the windows and look outside. I’ve got to think of something to counter Lynzee’s act of defiance.
I stare out of that window for nearly thirty minutes before I come up with an answer. Hot damn, I’ll have a party.
I call the twins. They moved into their new apartment last week. Jamone answers the phone.
“Son, I need you and Javed to help me with something.”
“You know we’ve got your back, Mom. Shoot.”
“Could you two help me gather up the vegetables in the garden? I need to blanche the greens and beans and can the tomatoes. Ordinarily, I can do it by myself, but I’m in a hurry. I’ve got something planned.”
Jamone asks, “What’s up, Mom?”
“I’m going to have a party on July third.”
“Why July third?”
“It’s the same day that Lynzee is having her party. I’m going to invite the same people that she’s inviting.”
“What kind of party, Mom? What’s the occasion?”
“My publisher just bought my new book and I’m getting a big advance. Can you think of a better reason to celebrate?” I force a sincere smile.
“Gosh, no. Javed and I will do whatever it takes to help you.”
“Thanks, son. I knew that I could count on you guys.”
That Friday, I sign up for classes at the Culinary Academy. Nothing works better to clear my mind than to have it challenged.
On Monday, I call the New York Times. I take an ad out about my Garden Book Party on July third. I’m sure that this ad will really piss off Lynzee. I pay for the ad, hang up, and smile to myself. I haven’t felt this good in a long time.
Next, I call Hilton Party Planners. “Hello, this is Charity Lavender. I’m planning on having an outdoor party in three weeks. I’ll need a large tent, table, chairs…”
Javed comes to the house two days later. He looks like he’s got a lot on his mind.
“What’s wrong, honey?” I say after he comes in the back door.
“It’s Dad. He wants Jamone and me to meet with him and April. He says that April is our blood sister, and it’s time that we accept it. We both told him no. We don’t want to have anything to do with her.”
“Good for you, son.”
“Did you know that he’s thinking about getting her an apartment in Memphis and getting her a new Ford Mustang?”
“No.” My mind clicks like an adding machine. Where is he getting all of this money from?
“Oh, hell no.” I hug Javed. “Thanks for keeping me informed, son. I’ve got to go to the bank.” He hasn’t even spent that much money on our sons. I’m not putting up with this bullshit.
I get my purse and keys and rush to the bank. I speak with the manager, who I’ve known for over ten years. I explain my problem about Jett’s account and him not signing it. In less than an hour, she transfers the money back out of his account and into mine. My smile is wicked.
I get back into my car and start the ignition. I look in the mirror and smile again. I envision Jett’s face looking at me. “You don’t know who you’re fucking with, dude. You’ll never use a dime of my money to pay for your love child. If April gets a new apartment and car, by God, your King Ford check better be long enough to pay for it.”
33
The house is buzzing with caterers and the party planner’s crew. They brought some of the prettiest flowering plants that I’ve ever seen. There are pink and purple chrysanthemums, pink kalanchoes, African violets, blue hydrangeas, bronze cushion mums, pink azaleas, and exotic bromeliads.
It’s nine o’clock in the morning and the party starts at three. Javed and Jamone are helping the party planners with setting up the huge tent. I’ve gotten more than two hundred RSVPs, and the party looks like it’s going to be a hit.
Of course Jett called me when he found out about the money in the bank. It was the second time we’ve spoken since he left.
“I didn’t think you would stoop this low. I thought you said that the money in the bank was mine.”
“Listen, like Richard Pryor told one of his ex-wives, ‘You ain’t
told ‘nare joke,’ you, my man, ain’t wrote ‘nare word.’”
“You’re a greedy bitch.”
“Oh, yeah? Well, that bitch you call your daughter will never spend a dime of my money.”
“Oh, so it’s like that. You’re not only greedy; you’re a selfish bitch, too.”
“Fuck you, Jett. I don’t owe you a dime.”
“No, fuck you. I hope Lynzee sues you for ten million. And when you’re broke, don’t come crying to me.”
“I’d eat dirt before I’d ask you for a penny.”
“All right then.” His voice is filled with venom when he says, “Eat dirt and go to hell, bitch.” He hangs up.
Any other time, it would have hurt me that he called me so many bitches. But under the circumstances, maybe I have earned the title.
I learned from the twins that Jett found a one-bedroom apartment in mid-town. The twins reluctantly brought the rest of his clothes and belongings from our house to his place. Not wanting to see me in person, he had the Harley towed to his apartment.
Without him saying so, I know that his next move will be filing for a divorce. Of course, I don’t want one, but if he insists, I know that I’m strong enough to move on. In my heart I know I’ll never love another man the way I still love Jett, but if the Lord allows the divorce to go through, then who am I to question His reasons?
Throughout the day, the telephone rings non-stop. I answer some of the calls, and then turn phone duty over to the twins. It seems that friends and relatives can’t understand the map that I included in their invitation. To my delight, nearly sixty of Lynzee’s friends have elected to come to my party instead of hers. I know she’s pissed off, but won’t let it stop her shenanigans.
By noon, I walk around the house and yard and check to make sure everything is in place. I have five caterers who have really done an exceptional job. Instead of having an ice sculpture made, I had one of the chefs make a three-tiered sculpture out of watermelons. It’s a work of art and even the twins are impressed.
We Ain’t the Brontës Page 15