“No,” Zarah responded as she traced her finger around the rim of the cup. “Excuse me,” she said, practically leaping from the chair.
She grabbed the cordless phone from the kitchen island and made her way to the library. She was dialing the numbers too slowly for her satisfaction. Finally, after what seemed like forever, Joel was on the phone. His voice instantly began soothing her anxiety. “I’m very much looking forward to being with you. Have you decided when you’re coming home?”
Joel cleared his throat. “Not yet. I have more business matters to handle here before I can get home.”
She could feel her joy seeping out like the air in a punctured balloon and slowly dissipating. Zarah was desperate to cling to hope. Joel was coming home, and they’d be a family. They had to be because there weren’t any other options for her. Returning to India as a divorced pregnant woman would garner too much shame for her to justify staying alive. She needed her husband. “I’ll call you tomorrow and see if you have decided on a day. I really must see you so we can bask in this good fortune together,” she said, resting her hand on her abdomen.
“Okay, but I have to go,” he stammered.
Zarah was content holding the phone for hours if Joel was on the other end, but he wasn’t. He’d said good-bye and ended the call. Tears formed in her eyes. She sat in the library, alone, unwilling to open the drapes and let light fill her space. She preferred to stay in the dark until her time of grieving had passed and Joel was home with her. She remained in the chair for a while, battling the thoughts swirling in her mind. Her heart echoed, He’ll be here. He will love this baby, and it will bring him home. Her mind didn’t agree. It said, He’s not coming. He doesn’t care. Her heart and her mind had equal strength in this battle.
She soon grew tired, and melancholy sank in. She desperately yearned for his assurance that he would return. Maybe one more call would make a difference. Zarah reached for the phone and then froze. She couldn’t call Joel, not this soon. Her sorrow ruled. She begged for comfort, in fear of relapsing into her state of depression. She’d beaten it a few months ago with Joel’s affection and wasn’t ready for a second fight without him. The library walls were closing in on her. She had to find someone to talk to. Her former assistant had gone out of town for a short holiday after Joel fired her. There was only one other person who cared, her sister-in-law. She dialed the number. Tamara was a good friend, just what Zarah needed.
When her sister-in-law was on the line, Zarah calmed down. “I’m so glad you answered.”
“Why? What’s wrong?” Tamara asked.
“I went to the doctor, and it’s confirmed. I’m . . . I mean we’re having a baby.”
“Yea! Congratulations!” her sister-in-law yelled. Zarah found it soothing that someone was excited about her pregnancy. “I know how much you wanted a baby with Joel. I’m not sure why you want a child with him, but that’s another story. Anyway, how did my father’s son take the news?” Zarah did not respond. “Are you there?” Tamara asked.
“Yes, I am.”
“Did you hear me? I was asking how Joel feels about the baby.”
“I’m sure he’s happy, very happy to be a father,” Zarah said, not feeling her best.
“Happy enough to rescind the divorce?”
“We haven’t talked of the divorce. He’s in Chicago, but I’m sure he will no longer want a divorce once he gets home and sees me.”
“You think so, huh?”
“Yes. I believe he will be very pleased about being a father.” She let her heart speak its truth, although her mind called her statement a lie.
“So pleased, but he isn’t home yet? Come on, Zarah. You can’t really believe he wants this baby or your marriage.”
“I do, and he will. You’ll see.”
“The only thing I see is a woman who’s waiting around for a man to make his decision about her life. Why are you so keen on letting him control you?” Tamara screamed. “I can’t stand watching you do this.”
“I need him. I can’t raise a child alone. Joel is my husband. He has to come home.”
“Millions of women in this country have raised babies as a single parent and do fine. You can too. I’ll help babysit for you, including changing diapers. How’s that for support?” Tamara was amused.
Zarah wasn’t. “This is a very important matter.”
“Come on. Lighten up. You’re taking this ‘stand by your man’ thing too far. Move on, for goodness’ sake. Within a few weeks, you could have plenty of good men interested in you. Why wait for a dud like Joel? He’s totally worthless.”
“I’m going to wait for him.”
“How long do you plan on waiting?”
“As long as I must.”
“You mean like a month, a year? What?”
“I’ll wait forever, as long he allows me to keep my married name, Mitchell. It is what I will ask of Joel. He will respond kindly.”
“How can you be so certain?”
“Since my father died earlier this year, Joel is my family. My life belongs here with him, not in India, or any other place. He is my husband, and I must make this marriage work.”
“Excuse me, but I’m going to gag,” Tamara said. A few seconds later, she continued. “Zarah, I have to go.”
“So soon?”
“I have to get off this phone; because I can’t stand to hear you sound so helpless when it comes to Joel. He’s trifling,” Tamara said.
“He’s your brother.”
“Technically, maybe, since we have the same father, but that’s where the connection ends. Do me a favor. If you’re going to pine over a man, make sure he’s worth the hassle. Otherwise, you might get used to Joel making every decision for you and totally running your life. I can’t imagine living that way and putting up with his crap, but this is your life, your choice. I respect your choice, and I’ll leave it alone.”
Zarah detected the disappointment in Tamara’s voice and felt awful. “You’ll see. This is for the best.”
“Right, whatever,” Tamara replied. “Look, I have to go,” Tamara said, and then ended the call almost as abruptly as Joel had.
Sometimes Zarah couldn’t figure out any of the Mitchells. Tamara and Joel were different but the same. Both contributed to her stress and forced her to question her future as Joel’s wife. She decided to shake off the worry and stay positive. Soon the loneliness would be gone. She cherished the thought, confident in her decision. She sat in the chair a while longer, hoping Joel would walk through the door. Eventually, she dozed off, and Joel paraded through her dreams. It was the closest she’d gotten to him in weeks. She slept calmly in his arms.
Chapter 6
Tamara was fuming. She wanted to be mad at Zarah but didn’t think it was fair to penalize her for being loyal and in love. Joel was the culprit. Too bad Zarah’s dedication was wasted on him. Tamara’s anger had intensified, and she was determined not to extend him the same grace. Who did Mr. Joel think he was? He’d moved his wife thousands of miles from her family, only to abandon her when she was pregnant. The more Tamara wrestled with his behavior and his flagrant womanizing ways, the less she was willing to let him get away without retribution. Obviously, Zarah wasn’t going to speak up. Victims didn’t. Tamara grabbed the phone. She would handle this.
After contacting Don to get Joel’s number, Tamara eagerly made the call. Joel answered more quickly than she had expected. She hadn’t quite figured out exactly what to say.
“Who is this?” Joel asked as she held the phone without responding. “Hello?” he said.
Forget about semantics, she thought. She was diving in. “Why are you being such a jerk to your wife?”
Joel chuckled. “And who is this?”
Her resolve was gaining momentum, and she was certain the words would flow freely. “Tamara.”
“Okay, Ms. Tamara. This is a surprise. I wasn’t expecting a call from you about my wife.”
“Somebody had to call,” she said, enuncia
ting the words heavily. “You are a trip, leaving Zarah in Detroit alone when you know she’s pregnant.”
“Excuse me for one minute,” Joel told her. She could hear his muffled voice as he spoke to someone else before he returned to the call. “Now, what are you going on about?” he asked.
“How can you leave your wife alone? She’s pregnant, scared, and you are so insensitive that you can’t come and check on her. What kind of a man are you?”
“Tamara, I don’t see how this is your business. How did you get my phone number, anyway?”
“It wasn’t difficult to get. We do know a few of the same people,” she said, not feeling obligated to be cordial.
“Whatever. Like you said, this is between me and my wife. I’ll take care of my business, and you handle yours.”
His words resonated. She could back off and probably should have, but letting him off the hook wasn’t sitting well with her. He was treating Zarah despicably. Zarah had said she was going to stand up to Joel, but Tamara didn’t believe her. Unless she intervened, Joel was bound to get away with treating women as if they were disposable. No more.
The words came from deep within Tamara’s soul, exploding by the time they reached her lips. “Who the heck do you think you are? You’re a loser who has to pump up his manhood by walking over women.” Tamara stood and shook her finger in the air, although Joel couldn’t see it. “Look, buster, you’ve picked the wrong person to mess with, okay. Your women might fall for your crap, but I won’t.”
“Where is this coming from? You don’t know me well enough to say anything about my marriage or any other woman in my life. You have some nerve.”
Tamara felt herself overheating. Images of her eldest brother’s brutal attack dashed into her mind, followed by memories of her ex-boyfriend’s relentless stalking. She had to press those thoughts down in order to maintain control. She didn’t intend on making Joel pay for every man’s infractions. He deserved a thorough lashing, but only what belonged to him. So, she restrained herself just a little. “Since Zarah won’t speak up, I’m doing it for her.”
“What are you? Her new best friend?”
Tamara rested her hand on her forearm. “You could say that.”
“I see,” Joel said.
His cavalier response infuriated Tamara more. “You know, you don’t deserve a wife or a child. You are too selfish and narcissistic. Why don’t you do us a favor and keep your behind in Chicago, where you belong?”
“Tamara, I’m not going to discuss my marriage with you. This call is over. Take care of yourself, and maybe I’ll see you in Detroit.” He disconnected the call, leaving Tamara lingering on the line. Her anger cooled. Perhaps it wasn’t her place to call him about Zarah. Then again, why not? Tamara set her phone on the table without regret.
Joel held the phone in his hand, staring into the room.
“Are you all right?” Sheba asked.
He rubbed his head. “Yeah, I guess so.”
“You sure?” she said, her voice elevated out of concern.
“I don’t know.” He sighed. “That was Tamara Mitchell.”
“Your sister?” Sheba sputtered.
“Right, my sister, or better put, Madeline’s daughter.” He rested the phone on his lap and used both hands to rub his head. “Madeline’s children never considered me a brother. We might share the same Mitchell bloodline, but there’s no love between us,” he said, actually kind of disappointed.
“I didn’t realize the two of you talked.”
He gazed at her and roared, “We don’t. She was calling to chew me out about not supporting Zarah during the pregnancy.”
Sheba’s eyebrows arched. “I see,” she said. “I can tell that was awkward.”
Joel lay back on the seat and pulled Sheba with him. He swiped his fingertips across his forehead. “It was, but you know, she has a point.” Sheba rested her head on his shoulder. “I don’t like Tamara calling me and barking out orders, but I respect her boldness.” He wrapped his arm around Sheba. “There’s something to be said about a woman who speaks her mind. Tamara is rough around the edges and, apparently, doesn’t respect boundaries. She’s definitely Madeline’s daughter. Whew, for sure. My goodness; I feel sorry for Don, having to deal with both of them at DMI. Now, there’s a job I wouldn’t want,” he said, finding the idea humorous.
Sheba patted his chest. “I’m glad she didn’t upset you.”
“Nah, I’m not upset. Confused, yes, but not upset. Maybe this is God’s way of pushing me toward I-94 sooner rather than later. I guess it’s time to go home,” he said. “Heaven help me.”
Chapter 7
If it wasn’t Joel wearing on her nerves, it was Madeline. Tamara traipsed through the DMI lobby and took the elevator upstairs. With each step she second-guessed her decision about coming to the building. Her mother had called a few hours ago, before eight o’clock, and had asked Tamara to stop by. There had been a sense of urgency in the request, which made Tamara nervous. The last time they’d spoken, Madeline was being Madeline, trying to shove her plans down Tamara’s throat. The impending tension blanketed Tamara, causing her to shiver upon exiting the elevator. Instinct said to turn around, press the ground level button, and get out of there while she had a chance. Tamara stood out in the open, completely vulnerable. Against her better judgment, she entered her mother’s office, sure this was leading to doom.
“I see you made it,” Madeline said, sitting at her desk. Don was in the office too.
“Oh my, the two of you together is probably not good for me. Is this an intervention?” Tamara asked, flinging her jacket and purse over the back of a guest chair located in front of the desk.
Don gave her a hug. Madeline was poised to give her one too, but Tamara dodged the gesture by tossing an air kiss in her mother’s direction. It wasn’t that Tamara had a problem with receiving affection from her mother. In this case, Tamara was determined to maintain her resolve and not let Madeline wear her down with words and gestures before getting out what she had to say. Her feeling of being in the wrong place was still there.
Madeline rushed over to Tamara and hugged her tightly. “Girl, get over here. The days of blowing me a kiss are long gone. You were gone far too long. I have a lot of years to make up, which means I’m going to hug my daughter every chance I get,” she said, tightening her embrace. “You might as well get used to it.”
What had made Tamara think her mother was going to let her slip into a chair at the conference table without incident? Tamara had to finally force herself free from the extended hug.
“Let’s meet at the table,” Madeline said. Don joined them.
“Okay Mother, let’s cut out the small talk. Why did you summon me?”
“Have a seat. Can I get you some coffee?” Madeline asked.
“No,” Tamara said, plopping into the seat clearly outnumbered. Don wasn’t saying much, but he was there.
“What about tea?”
“No, Mother!” Tamara shouted. Quickly, she took a deep breath and harnessed her irritation. “I want you to tell me what is so important. Why did you want me to come in this early on a Friday morning?”
“All right, forgive me for being hospitable. My goodness, what’s gotten into you? A little decorum from you would be nice. Common courtesies are still fashionable, my dear.”
“Okay, ladies, let’s take a break before this goes in the wrong direction,” Don interjected. Right on cue, her brother was the consummate mediator. Thanks to the Mitchell family dynamics, he got plenty of practice in the role.
“I have a busy day ahead of me,” Tamara said, which wasn’t true, but she had to find some reason to cut this mini reunion short. Being around Madeline was a death wish. She had to get out. “I only have a few minutes to spare.”
“Then let’s get to the point. We need you here at DMI.”
“Mother,” Tamara said with a sharp edge.
“Wait. Hear me out,” Madeline said, reaching over and caressing Tamara�
��s arm. “Between the two of us, Don and I can maintain our family’s presence in this place, but it’s just not right unless you’re going to be here too. Frankly, I don’t want to run DMI with anyone other than you and Don. This is as much your company as it is ours. Besides, Abigail has resigned from her executive vice president position and is leaving in a few months, which will make our senior management team too lean.”
“Good for her if she’s really leaving,” Tamara said, envying the freedom that Abigail would have once she left the Mitchell compound called DMI. But it was shocking that Abigail was actually leaving after being with DMI for more than eight years, having been hired as an assistant to Dave Mitchell after graduating from business school. From what Tamara could gather, Abigail had been loyal to the Mitchell patriarch, then to Joel, and now to Don. Apparently, Abigail’s loyalty hadn’t bought her any perks when it came to romance. She had to get in line behind the hordes of other women swooning over Joel, including his pregnant wife.
“Her departure does create a gaping hole in our executive team,” Don added.
“A hole with your name on it,” Madeline told Tamara.
“But I’ve already told you, working here isn’t for me.”
“Mainly because you haven’t given this place a fair chance. What will it take to get you here?” her mother asked.
“Are you offering me the chief executive officer role?”
“Of course not. That’s Don’s job. But you can have any other role in the company, including mine as head of marketing. Whatever you want. Just name it.”
Tamara let out a hearty laugh. “You don’t get it, do you?” Tamara wrenched her hands before speaking again. “I don’t want to work here. How else can I say this so you understand me once and for all? What other language can I use? Hear me good,” she said with her voice marginally elevated but intentionally crisp. “I don’t want a job at DMI, period, end of story, finito,” she said, leaning against the edge of the table.
“Is it me?” Madeline asked.
Tamara let her gaze drop to the floor.
Humbled Page 3