“Miriam, is everything okay?”
The only other person who had given me this much joy just by the sound of his voice was Chauncey. I smiled for the first time in days.
“Yes, I’m calling because I’m concerned about you.”
He paused, and I wondered if he was sorry he’d answered. He said, “There’s nothing to be concerned about.”
“I just found out that Emily knows.”
Another pause, then, “She was in the car with me when you called . . . the other day.”
So that’s what happened! “Oh, God. I just wanted to warn you. I’m so sorry, Jamal.”
“I know. But like I said before, this isn’t your fault.”
I took a breath and inhaled more audacity. “I understand that you’re not home.”
He didn’t respond.
“Well”—I took another deep breath—“you’re more than welcome to stay here, with me. And the boys.”
There was nothing but silence on his end of the phone, and on mine, too. Except for the thundering beat of my heart.
Finally, he said, “No. I’m fine where I am.”
Where are you? I wanted to ask, though I was pretty sure I knew the answer to that.
I said, “Just know that you can stay here.” I added, “You’re welcome here.”
More silence.
“Thank you,” he said. “Look, Miriam, I’ve got to go.”
“Okay, but would you mind if I called you? Just to check on you.”
“There’s no need for that.”
He was trying to shut me down, but it wasn’t going to happen. “Yes, there is. Because you need someone now. Just like how you were there for me, I want to be here for you. Remember, a soft place to land. Remember?” I asked, hoping that he’d recall how he felt when he was with me.
“Yes.”
Was that a smile in his voice?
“Well, your soft place is here,” I told him.
“All right.”
I had the feeling he was agreeing so that he could hang up. But that didn’t matter. He would think about my words, and he would come to me.
Jamal hung up first and I held on to the connection for a little while longer. In my head, this was so, so, so wrong. But my heart was winning.
I crawled onto my bed and laid my head where Jamal had laid his not so long ago. I imagined the day when he would be back. Because now, I was absolutely sure that Jamal would be back.
All I had to do was see him again, and once we were together, that thing that always happened between us would happen again.
Tears came to my eyes, but I couldn’t say it was only because I was sad. “I’m sorry.” I sent those words into the atmosphere. “I’m really sorry.”
But I had to do what I had to do.
37
Emily
Thirty hours. All I’d heard for the last thirty hours was Michellelee’s voice in my head.
It wasn’t an ordinary affair.
I punched my pillow, then nudged my head into the crevice, but after just seconds, I turned over again.
It wasn’t an ordinary affair.
What did that mean? Not that it made any difference, because an affair by any other name still made me walk out the door.
I rolled over, thinking that resting on my back would work. But after a few minutes, I flipped onto my stomach.
It wasn’t an ordinary affair.
Pushing myself up, I leaned against the headboard. Going to bed early was supposed to help. I was exhausted since I hadn’t slept at all last night. But tonight was just like last night. Another sleepless night that I couldn’t afford.
It wasn’t an ordinary affair.
I tossed back the duvet and scooted out of the bed. The T-shirt I was wearing would have to do; I only slipped on leggings so that my legs wouldn’t be bare. I grabbed my wallet, my cell, then my trench coat, and in less than five minutes, I was in my car.
Maybe if I had some answers, I could get some sleep.
I drove without thinking, turning the radio to KJLH, but when the Sunday-night guest pastor started talking about the rate of divorce among Christians, I pressed the power button, making the car silent.
I sped onto the 405 and in the light traffic, I exited in less than twenty minutes. Then, a turn onto Century and not a minute later, I hardly slowed down as I swung my car into the driveway of the Westin.
My car was still running when I marched past the valet.
“How long will you be?” the attendant asked.
“Not long. The keys are in the ignition,” I shouted over my shoulder, still moving.
Inside the lobby, I kept marching, knowing exactly where to go. After spending our honeymoon here, we came for weekend retreats. Even though it was just a few miles from home, this hotel was special to us . . . at least it had been special, until now.
An elevator was already open; thank God I didn’t have to wait. Jamal was only on the third floor; thank Him again, the ride up wasn’t long. And he was in Room 301; more praises, I didn’t have to walk far.
Because at any of those points, I could’ve changed my mind.
I raised my hand and hesitated for only a moment before I banged on his door. I banged like I was the FBI. I banged like I wanted to kick the door in and then kick him.
“What the hell?”
I heard Jamal before I saw him, before he swung the door open and stared at me with wide eyes.
“Em . . .”
With just one long stride, I was in his room and in his face. And with both hands, I shoved him. He stumbled back.
“Emily!” He held his hands high as if he was surrendering, or maybe he didn’t want to take the chance of shoving me back.
This hadn’t been my plan. Actually, I didn’t have one when I’d left home. I’d just wanted answers. But seeing him made my rage rise and I shoved him again.
“Emily!”
I shoved him again and again, until he hit the bed and fell back. I sprung on top of him, straddled him, and noticed for the first time that he wore only a T-shirt and gym shorts. I tore at his shorts, roughly yanking them from his body.
His eyes were wide and wild, probably just like mine.
I moved quickly, not giving him time to react. In not too many moments after, I was naked, too, at least the bottom half of me. I didn’t know what happened to my clothes. All I knew was that I had to climb on top.
“Ahhhh,” he cried out the moment we connected.
I was silent.
I moved fast and I moved furiously, riding him like he was a prized possession. He tried to maneuver, tried to shift, but I wouldn’t let him. He leaned up and tried to pull me down, as if he wanted to kiss me. But I stayed upright, keeping my lips a mile away from his.
Jamal could hardly keep up with me. My breathing became shallow; I couldn’t get enough air. Sensations overwhelmed me like never before. The tingling began in my toes and spread through every inch of me. I felt like a hostage to the pleasure.
It didn’t take long.
Probably sixty seconds for him, and Jamal’s moans filled the room.
Probably sixty-one seconds for me, and I screamed from my soul.
We collapsed, but I rolled right off my husband. In the past, I would have stayed in that moment, on top of him, still connected and enjoying the afterburn. But tonight, I’d just had some of the best sex of my life and I couldn’t wait to get up and get out.
I made my way to the bathroom, slammed the door behind me, and leaned against the wall. I inhaled a couple of deep, deep breaths until I gathered myself, then grabbed a washcloth. I washed without looking in the mirror, as if I was ashamed of the way I’d just behaved. These weren’t the actions of a proper Southern girl. This was more like the rage of a scorned wife.
The rage was still burning inside me when I came out of the bathroom. Jamal was sitting on the edge of the bed and my eyes bored through him as I stomped across the room. I snatched my leggings from the floor and slid into them.<
br />
“Emily!” He reached out and when I backed away, he frowned as if that was the last reaction he expected.
I stood, doing my best to press down my fury. Then I said, “I have two questions.”
He nodded. “Anything. Ask me anything, because I want to explain everything.”
I gave him a chance to stew a bit in the silence before I said, “Does any of this have to do with me being white?”
“What?” he asked, as if I’d spoken in another language.
I repeated my question.
“No,” he said, jumping up from the bed. “Why would you ever think that?”
“Because you had a problem when we first met.”
“That was years ago.”
“Or because Miriam had a problem and my parents had a problem and Nellie had a problem and black women we pass on the street have a problem, and white men who see us together have a problem—”
“Their problem, never ours. For all these years, I have loved you. Just you, because you’re you.”
As if I didn’t hear him, I added, “Or maybe because me being white is the only reason I could come up with for you breaking my heart.” I bit my bottom lip to stop it from trembling. “Because you were supposed to love me.”
At first, it looked like Jamal didn’t have an answer. He took a step forward, I took a step back. He said, “I do, Emily. I really love you.”
I shook my head, not because I didn’t believe him, but because I didn’t want to.
“The second question.”
He swallowed, but nodded.
I asked, “How many times?”
“What?”
I didn’t repeat my question, knowing he’d heard me. I hoped that my stare burned right through him, and after a second, he turned away. “Emily,” he whispered.
“That’s not an answer.”
He hesitated for a moment. “Why do you want to know?”
“Because one time means one thing. And many times means many things.”
When he lowered his eyes again, he’d answered without speaking. Michellelee had been wrong. This had been an ordinary affair.
Jamal still hadn’t said anything, but I wasn’t going to let him get away with that. I wanted him to tell me, to say it out loud, and then watch the pain travel from my heart to the rest of me.
I waited. When he said nothing, I asked, “Did it start before Chauncey passed away?”
“No!” he exclaimed. “It was after his funeral. It was only a few times.”
I swallowed. “But . . . it was more than once.”
He nodded.
Why hadn’t he told me it was just one time? He was a cheater, didn’t that make him a liar, too? A lie might have saved us. That truth had truly just destroyed us.
I’d heard enough. Actually, I’d heard too much. This meeting hadn’t changed my mind, it just hurt my heart.
Taking another quick glance around, I found my trench coat dumped by the door, though I didn’t remember dropping it. Before I could reach it, Jamal lifted my coat and folded it over his arm.
“I want you to stay.”
“Why?”
“Because we haven’t talked.”
I snatched my coat from him. “We’ve talked enough,” I said.
“But I thought you came over here to—”
“To what?”
“To work this out.” He glanced at the bed.
“Oh, don’t get confused. That was nothing but ex sex.”
“What?”
“The moment you got in bed with Miriam, I became your ex. I only came over here to make sure, but I’m going to see Carl Bell tomorrow and, hopefully, he’ll be able to get us divorced as quickly as we got married.”
I reached for the door, but Jamal tried to block me.
“No!” he shouted.
I shoved him again, the way I’d shoved him before. This time, I meant it. He fell against the wall, and I flung the door open. Running into the hall, I looked from one end to the other. There was no way I could take the elevator. Jamal would be right behind me.
Dashing to the Exit sign, I grabbed the doorknob to the stairwell, then I looked over my shoulder.
Just like I thought, there was Jamal.
38
Miriam
I stopped at the edge of the hotel’s driveway, turned off the lights, then cut the engine.
Sitting at least two hundred feet from the front door, I asked myself again, what was I doing here? This was so not me, yet here I was.
The clock was ticking toward midnight, but the Westin felt alive with a kind of a midday energy.
Since I was down at the far end of the hotel, with my headlights off, no one noticed me. That worked; I didn’t want anyone coming over, asking questions I couldn’t answer.
Last night, when I’d put this plan together, it’d made sense. It hadn’t been hard to figure out where Jamal was staying. And I’d confirmed that with one phone call. I’d asked for him, was connected, but hung up when he answered.
Then I put everything else in place. I’d called the sitter and even practiced what I would say to Jamal when I told him that I was in his hotel. I figured he’d be shocked, but he’d come down, and in some quiet corner of the lobby, I’d tell him how I felt, convince him it was right, and that maybe this was even our destiny.
It was all worked out in my head, but not totally in my heart, because of Emily. But what was I supposed to do? Especially now that Emily had kicked Jamal out, was I supposed to walk away? If I found a million dollars on the street, I wouldn’t just step over it because the money wasn’t mine to begin with.
It made complete sense.
At least, it had last night.
But now it wasn’t so clear as I sat in the dark. Now my arguments only felt weak, pathetic, and a whole lot desperate.
I sighed. I couldn’t sit here any longer debating with myself. I’d already wasted so much time. On the way over, I’d stopped at Starbucks and then I got this incredible urge to go to the movies alone, though I couldn’t tell you what I saw.
Now my time had run out; either I had to do what I came to do, or I had to go home.
Turning on my headlights, I revved up the engine, shifted to drive, and just as I eased my foot off the brake, two people ran out of the hotel, stopping in the spotlight that shone from my headlights.
A man. A woman.
Jamal. Emily.
My eyes and mouth opened wide in horror, though I wasn’t the only one. The people who stood in front of the hotel, waiting for their cars or sliding out of cabs, stepped to the side, not wanting to get involved.
It played like a silent movie in front of me. Emily’s face was drenched with tears, and Jamal was crying, too. She yanked away from his grasp, he pulled her back into his arms.
I’d been frozen in place at first, but then I shut off the lights and the ignition, then scooted down in the seat. I kept my eyes right above the steering wheel so that I could still see it all.
An attendant walked over and gestured with his hands as if he was asking if everything was okay. Emily and Jamal nodded together and waved the man away. Then Jamal gently pulled Emily to the corner. Now they were partially hidden by a large shrub. Emily’s back was to me, but I could see Jamal.
Jamal cradled Emily’s face, and I watched as he begged her with his heart. She shook her head, and my heart pounded.
Her objections didn’t stop him. Jamal pleaded with everything inside of him, with a love that I’d only seen once. He begged with a love in his eyes that I could see even in the dark. A love that I’d only seen . . . from Chauncey.
That was when my first tear fell.
Jamal wrapped his arms around Emily and led her into the hotel.
I didn’t let a second pass before I turned on the ignition. But I didn’t turn on the lights and I didn’t shift the gear into drive. Instead, I backed the van out, an illegal move that was in line with everything I’d done recently.
I waited until I was a
block away from the hotel before I turned on the lights. And then I aimed my car toward home. Slowly. I had to drive slow; what else could I do when my tears had turned me into a blind woman?
What I’d just seen was now a loop that ran over and over in my mind. Clearly, I needed to change my plans. But before I could think, I had to cry.
39
Emily
Yo!”
I sniffed. “Hey, Red,” I said into my cell.
“Where I need to be at?” Michellelee said.
Even though tears were still seeping from my eyes, I chuckled. Michellelee, the so articulate, so polished anchorwoman who used the King’s English all the time, cracked me up when she went into her version of what she called Ebonics. “What do you mean?” I asked her.
“You’re calling me after midnight . . .”
Quickly, I scanned the dashboard. Dang!
Michellelee continued, “And you’re crying. So, where I need to be at?”
I laughed out loud this time. “I’m sorry. I didn’t realize it was so late and I was trying not to cry. I just needed my friend.”
“Where are you?”
“In my car.”
“What’s going down?”
“Nothing, really.”
“Please don’t make me ask twenty questions. It’s too damn late for that. Just come over to my place,” Michellelee said.
“I don’t really want to bother you.”
“Girl, please.”
“Is Craig there?” I asked,
“Yeah, but you don’t have to worry about him ’cause I already gave him some, so he’s knocked out. He won’t wake up till morning, when it’s time to get some more.”
Only Michellelee could keep me laughing when all I wanted to do was cry.
She said, “So come over here. How long will it take you?”
“About three minutes,” I said, looking up at the twenty-story tower where Michellelee lived. “I’m right downstairs.”
“Heifer, get up here!”
She hung up on me and I wiped away the tears that were left over and slid out of my car. I’d found a premium space right in front of her building, which was something that didn’t happen in the middle of the night. Especially not a Sunday night.
Never Say Never Page 27