By the time I make it to the bed, I’m exhausted. I lay the crutches across the end of the bed and ease myself between the sheets. I’m wide awake and feel like having a glass of wine. I’m tempted to go get a glass, but feel like the Lord is punishing me for my sins and refrain.
I flip the channels for thirty minutes, unable to find anything that I want to watch. I settle on the Western channel and watch Gunsmoke. I think of Jett and how much he loves to watch this show. I’ve always admired Ms. Kitty, and can see myself in her. But then I think, I bet Ms. Kitty never had to deal with a broken leg and a broken husband.
I turn on my left side and pull the comforter up over my shoulder. My leg feels like dead weight. I toss and turn trying to get comfortable. Finally, I get situated. Just as I feel sleep creeping up on me, the phone rings. It’s Jett.
“What was that Negro doing at my house so late at night?”
I get up on my forearms. “What are you doing watching my house?”
“You didn’t answer my question. I saw Herman drop you off.”
“So what?” I’m starting to feel the pain from my leg. I should have asked for pain pills.
“What happened to your leg?”
“I broke it.”
“Doing what?”
“Flying in a plane. Not that it’s any of your business.”
“Are you crazy, woman? What were you doing up in a plane?”
“Having fun.”
“Aren’t you a little too old to be doing stupid shit like that?”
“Aren’t you a little too old to be dating a thirty-five-year-old?”
“She’s thirty-seven.”
“Wow. Two years. She’s still young enough to be your daughter. You should be ashamed of yourself.”
“Look, you started this shit, Charity.”
I’m irritated as hell. “Started what? So I didn’t tell you that you had a daughter. That’s no reason to file for a divorce and start fucking around on me. It seems to me that you were looking for a reason to get out of the marriage.”
“That’s not true.”
“Bullshit. Any other man would’ve talked things out with his wife. Any decent man would have listened to his wife explain why she held the truth back from him. Any decent man would have understood and stood by his wife. But oh, not you. You had to fly to California and save your child.”
“I—”
“You what? You didn’t have to move April here. The twins don’t want to have anything to do with her.”
“That’ll change.”
“No, it won’t. They don’t like her, and they don’t like how you’re treating them. If you keep on acting like a fool, you’re going to lose your sons. Is that what you want to happen?”
“No. But I’m sure—”
“You’re not sure of shit. You’re a damned fool. And I’m glad you filed for a divorce and saved me the trouble. I don’t need a weak-ass man calling himself my husband. I need a man who knows how to be a man and stand by his woman.”
“Like Herman?”
“Yeah, like Herman. Now, leave me the fuck alone and stop driving by my house. If you don’t, I’m going to get an order of protection.”
“Don’t do that, Charity. I’m warning you.”
“And I’m warning you. Stay out of my life.” I hang up.
I’m hurt and annoyed. I hate the way Jett keeps toying with my emotions. First he wants a divorce, and then he starts an affair and becomes estranged from his sons. If he’s so happy with his life with a younger woman, then why is he worried about who’s taking me home at night?
47
For the next few days, I try to get used to the crutches. I make an appointment to see my doctor. He says I won’t be able to get the cast taken off until the end of October.
The twins come by every day and make sure that I don’t need anything. They’re so attentive, it warms my heart. None of us talk about their father. It’s almost as if the subject matter is taboo.
Herman had full coverage insurance on his Cessna and expects to get his new plane in six weeks or so. This time he plans on buying a blue-and-white Cessna 172 SP. I tell him that there is no way I’m ever going up in a plane with him again. He laughs, but can understand how I feel.
It’s too hard to climb the stairs to my office, so I do what I can on the computer in the kitchen. I check my messages and answer my fan mail.
I call Arlene and tell her that I’m not going to be able to work on the edits for a few weeks. She says that she’ll call my editor and explain the situation to her. We’re ahead of schedule for the publication date next spring anyway. The truth is I don’t feel like writing right now. I can’t dredge up the courage to be creative. My mind is convoluted with my own personal drama. I can’t get Jett’s angry face out of my mind.
Because of the limitations of my leg, I cancel all of my speaking engagements until the first of November. My agent feels that I can still make an appearance, but I just am not feeling it. I am getting tired of public speaking. It doesn’t have the allure that it once did. What’s wrong with me?
Another thing I’ve noticed is my lack of desire to write. I’m more focused on thinking about opening a new business, a bakery. Forget the French bakery, my forte is American pastry. What was I thinking?
I pick up the phone and call the vice president of my bank, Rita Coolidge. I’ve known Rita since my first book was published. When I deposited my first million dollar check in Bancorp South, Rita called me. She told me that she’d be of service to me whenever I needed any help with banking.
Over the years, I’ve spoken to Rita five or six times. Now, I need her for an important matter that is weighing heavy on my heart.
“Hello, Mrs. Evans,” Rita says. “How can I help you?”
“I want to open up a bakery. I’ll bake cobblers, pies, cakes, and yeast breads. I’m going to cook donuts and have petit fours, too. I know I need a business plan, but can you give me any suggestions as to how I should proceed? I’ve never owned a business before.”
“You’re right about the business plan. You should call the Small Business Association here in Memphis. They can help you get started. Here, I’ve got the number.” She gives it to me. “Ask for Bonnie Diggins. She’s a personal friend of mine.” She pauses then adds, “And don’t worry about the financing. Bancorp South will help you when you’re ready to finance your loan.”
“Thanks, Rita. I’ll be getting back with you soon.”
I’m getting so excited I can barely dial Ms. Diggins’ number. Unfortunately, she’s unavailable and I get her voice mail.
My mind usually works fast when I come up with a plan. I get out a notebook and jot down my thoughts for the business. I’ve already got the name, Just Desserts.
As I’m developing a menu, my phone rings. It’s Lynzee. I haven’t heard from her for a week, and I was a little worried.
“Hello, little sis.”
“Hey. What’s happening in your world?”
“Oh, lots of things. Tyler’s and my relationship is on the mend. She’s coming home for Thanksgiving.”
“Oh, that’s nice. I’m so happy for you guys. You two need each other.”
“Yes, we do. But I’ve got some more news for you. I’m getting married!”
“Are you kidding?”
“No. Michael asked me last night. Of course I said yes.”
“Wow. You didn’t tell me that you were in a relationship. When did all of this loving happen?”
“We’ve been dating on and off for about two years. He’s a widow, and he’s got a grown son, Stephan. Stephan is over-protective of his father, and screens all of his women. Stephan didn’t like me at first, but I finally won him over a few months back.”
“I’m so happy for you. Now, tell me about Michael.”
“He’s a businessman. He owns his own automotive business. You know, something like Pep Boys. He’s got five franchises here in Los Angeles. He makes good money, but he’s not filthy rich or anyt
hing like that. But he has good credit, owns his own home, drives a 2010 Mercedes, and plans on opening two more shops by February of next year.”
“Sounds like a keeper. How old is he? What does he look like?” I ask.
“He’s sixty-one, is about six foot two, physically fit, but has a small beer pouch. He’s root beer–colored, still has all of his hair, and reminds me of an older Cuba Gooding Jr.”
“Damn, girl. I’m impressed. When do I get to meet him?”
“I was thinking during the week of Christmas. His schedule is pretty tight until then. Can you fly out here?”
“Definitely. Now, what does Tyler think about him?”
“She likes him. I think she’s got a crush on his grandson, Keon. Keon’s about nineteen. He attends Yale University and is studying law.”
“You’ve really made my day, Lynzee. I haven’t had good news like this in some time. Now, when’s the wedding set for?”
“Some time near the end of January. Michael has to clear his calendar so we can have a nice honeymoon. He’s planning on taking me to Spain.”
“Damn. I always wanted to go there.” I smile to myself. “Now, what’s happening with your job?”
“I’m still enjoying teaching, but I’m thinking about making a comeback in the publishing world. I’ve got several book ideas. I miss going out on book tours. I miss talking to my fans. I figure if Patricia Cornwell can make a comeback after having a lesbian affair, so can I.”
“I feel the total opposite. I’m thinking about taking a break from writing.”
“No shit?”
“Yes. But I think you’ve got such a loyal following that they’d love to read a new book by you.”
“My agent believes that we have to start with a realistic goal of maybe selling two hundred thousand or so books, and then build from there.”
“That sounds doable.”
I tell Lynzee about my plane ride and my broken leg. She’s sympathetic and says that she doesn’t like riding in small planes either. When I tell her about the bakery, she’s excited.
“Well, Michael is on the other line, Charity. I’ve gotta go. I love you.”
“And I love you, honey. Bye.”
The doorbell rings. I lumber to the back door. I’m shocked to see that it’s Jett. I let him in.
“Can I speak with you for a few minutes?”
“About what?”
“Us.”
I must say I’m totally surprised. “Come on in.” I lead the way to the kitchen table. We both take a seat.
“How’s your leg?” he asks me.
“Fine.”
“Can I have some water?” He looks nervous.
I’m not about to get up. “You know where it is.”
I watch him going into the cabinets and then to the water dispenser. He looks so handsome in his black jeans, Harley shirt, and cowboy boots.
He comes back to the table and gulps down the water. “Thanks.”
“What is it, Jett? I’m kinda busy.”
He folds his hands and leans back in the chair. “I was thinking about going to a marriage counselor. I’ve changed my mind about the divorce. I love you, Charity.”
“But—”
“I’m in the process of sending April back to L.A. She really doesn’t like the lifestyle in Memphis. California is where her heart is. I’ll miss her, but I feel she’s making the right decision. It’s going to take about three months before she can get transferred.”
“Are you sure that’s the only reason why you’re sending April back?”
“I don’t want to talk about it right now.”
Now I need some water. I get up, get a glass and fill it, then sit back down. “Why should I take you back? You had an affair.”
“It didn’t mean anything.”
“Bullshit. How would you feel if I had an affair?”
“That’s not your personality. I trust you, baby.”
“Oh, now it’s baby. You’ve got some nerve. What’s the matter? Is your money running low? You getting tired of selling cars?” I’m starting to get pissed. He’s called me out my name, treated me like dirt, had an affair, and now he wants to kiss and make up.
“No and no. Matter of fact, I’m the top salesman at King. If you took me back, I would still keep my job. My boss is even considering moving me to a management position.”
“Right now, I have to say no, Jett. You’ve hurt me too badly. If it wasn’t for the affair, I would take you back in a snap. But after Marla, I’ll never trust you again. I’m sorry.”
“Baby, we can see a faith-based marriage counselor. Matter of fact, I already found one. She’s a black woman about forty. Her office is in Germantown. All I have to do is call her and she’ll fit us in her schedule.”
“I can’t do it.”
“Please reconsider, baby. I know you haven’t stopped loving me. We’ve got too much history to give up on our marriage now. And I know the twins would be happy to see us get back together.”
“The twins want what I want.”
“I’ve already spoken with them.”
“When?”
“This morning, before they went to class. I’m sure they’ll be calling you sometime today.”
“I wouldn’t doubt it.”
“Please, Charity, give me a chance. I’ll be the husband that you always wanted. I don’t want your money. I don’t need anything from you but your love.”
“Love? I don’t even know if you know what it means.”
Jett reaches inside his pocket and removes a business card. “Her name is Allene Jackson. Please call her.” He gets up. “I’m not going to force you to do anything that you don’t want to do. All I’m asking for is a chance.” He leans down and kisses me on my forehead, and then leaves.
I pick up the card. I stare at it for a long while. I can’t help but wonder if Jett is really trying to make a go of our marriage. I feel all kinds of conflicting emotions. This past year, knowing about April has been hell. I felt like the proverbial ugly stepmother. Perhaps I was wrong when I didn’t confront him right away, and in the end, he turned on me because I withheld information about his daughter. I think about our past, the present, our future together. I’m torn.
Am I a fool to want him back?
48
Thank God, Dr. Robinson is ready to take off my cast. I’ve suffered long enough. I sit on the patient’s table and watch as he uses a saw to cut off my pink cast. I’m praying that he’s careful and doesn’t accidentally cut my skin.
But I needn’t have worried. He does his job expertly, massages my leg, and writes me a prescription for Motrin. I thank him and stand up. My right leg feels weak, but I’m able to walk okay.
“I’ll see you back here in three months, Mrs. Evans.”
“I’ll be here.”
I pay my bill and make a future appointment. I carry the crutches out to my car and put them in the trunk.
I managed to get in touch with Bonnie Diggins. We’ve met several times over the past couple of weeks, and now, we’re almost finished with my business plan. I put an ad on Twitter for a general manager and two bakers in the Memphis area, who are creative and dedicated to their craft.
I’ve got dozens of hits. I take my time interviewing potential candidates and going out with my realtor to find the perfect location for the bakery. Presently, I’ve found two locations that I love and they’re both in Midtown.
The twins love the bakery idea and want to work there part-time while they’re in school. I’ve got to say, I love the idea.
I’ve searched my soul about Jett and our marriage. I’ve picked up that card for the marriage counselor dozens of times, but can’t make myself call her. A part of me wants to go, but another part of me wants to end the marriage and move on with my life.
Jett calls me two or three times a week. He still professes his love and says that he’ll wait on me. He’s in no hurry.
It seems that Herman is trying to speed up his game plan. We ha
ve dinner at a restaurant at least once a week. This week he wants me to accompany him to an auction downtown at the Peabody Hotel.
He’s interested in two things. The first is an original poster of “I Am a Man” from the 1968 sanitation strike. His other desire is to outbid other buyers for a South Carolina plantation owner’s Bible that includes deeds of sale for slaves, with handwritten records of births, deaths, and marriages of his slaves.
On the night of the auction, I select a lavender silk chiffon sheath with side splits and a jeweled neckline. I accent the dress with a copy of Oprah’s pear-shaped diamonds and Richard Tyler rhinestone pumps.
When he picks me up, Herman is wearing a silver Hugo Boss tuxedo with white shirt and silver rhinestone bowtie and cufflinks. He’s wearing gray alligator square-toe shoes that shine like liquid paraffin.
I pick up my matte silver clutch and follow Herman outside to his car. Once we’re inside, I look over to my right. I freeze. I could swear that I see Jett’s F-150 parked on the end of the cul-de-sac.
“Did you see who I saw?” Herman asks me.
“Yes. I saw him.”
“What’s he trying to prove?”
“That he loves me.” I turn my head away, ashamed by my emotions.
Herman glances over at me while he steers the car through the subdivision. “And how about you? What are your feelings for Jett?”
“I’m not sure. I loved him for almost thirty years, bore him two sons, and thought I’d spend the rest of my life with him. But things changed.”
“I understand that when you love someone, those feelings don’t leave overnight, but I’m hoping that time will depict Jett’s true nature. I’m confident that you will see that I can make you happier than you’ve ever been in your life. I have such plans for our future.”
“Herman, don’t. You’re moving too fast. Slow down. I’m not going anywhere.”
We Ain’t the Brontës Page 23