Cover Girls

by T. D. Jakes

  She stared at his face. It looked peaceful. His jaw was soft and relaxed. His long eyelashes looked like those they painted on babies in advertisements. This was the Trench you only got to see when his guard was down—and that might as well be never. It might be cool to be tender with this Trench—this babylike, sweet-looking Trench. But to deal with the real Trench, she had to give him back what he dished out.

  “Trench . . . Trench . . .” She made her voice stern. “Trench.”

  He bolted upright. His eyes and the expression on his face said he was trying to remember where he was, trying to get himself together. First frightened, then off-balance, then cool and cruel when he came back to himself.

  “Trench, what are you doing here?”

  “I thought we needed to finish our conversation.” He reached his hand forward and touched the damp hair at the nape of her neck. “Enjoy your shower?” He used his index finger to wipe beads of water off of her forearm.

  “Trench, I didn’t give you permission to come in here.”

  He smiled that I-know-this-will-work-when-nothing-else-does smile of his. “Do I need permission to come in, Michelle?” He stroked her cheek. “I hope it’s not like that between us.” He turned on his innocent, wide-eyed, little-boy smile. He rubbed his forefinger over her chin. “Have I messed up that bad that I’m back to square one? I got to give up my key and ask permission before I come.” He pouted almost like a little cherub in one of those church pictures.

  Michelle was going to hold her ground no matter how he was making her feel. “Trench, we didn’t end our conversation on a note where you could just come over here and make yourself at home.”

  “I’m sorry, baby.” He pushed his lips into even more of a pout as he ran his finger over the ridge of her ear. He leaned forward to kiss the tip of her nose. His eyes, focused on hers, were doe-like and gentle. “I’m sorry, okay?” He nodded as though he were trying to get her to agree. “It was my fault. You mentioned your ex—and I just lost it, baby. You know how I feel about you.” He turned to face her. “You know that you push my buttons. You know that, right? I shouldn’t let you get to me.” He edged himself closer to her. “But you know you do, Michelle.” He tilted his head. “You know you do.” He moved to kiss her.

  “Trench.” Michelle turned her head so that he could not kiss her lips. But she knew better. It was going to be the same old thing. He would be nice tonight, maybe for another day or two. Then he would be gone, again. No explanation. Just gone. And no matter what she told anyone else—no matter what she even tried to tell herself—when he left, there would be a hole where he had been.

  “Look, baby, we’re real with each other. You know who I am, what I am. And I know you—who you are and where you come from. I know the time you spent turned out on the street . . . your old man . . . I know it all. We don’t have no games with between us. Another man might not accept you—not many men strong enough to deal with what you been through. But you know I’m here for you. You my girl. You my baby. You my boo.”

  She knew better. “Trench, you can’t keep going and coming.”

  He kissed her then, and she didn’t resist. He put his arms around her, gently at first, and then tighter. “Let’s not talk about it, now. Okay?” He looked into her eyes. “We’ve got plenty of time to talk.”

  She knew better. He kissed her neck. Michelle shivered. She knew better. But what difference did it make? She was no schoolgirl; she was no pure flower. It had been a long day. A long day. And maybe what Trench had was just the medicine she needed.

  It was the last thought Michelle had before she closed her eyes and surrendered to the relief Trench offered.

  Chapter Six

  Michelle walked toward her desk humming a song she had heard on the radio—someone named Yolanda Adams singing a song she thought was called “Speak to My Heart.” She was definitely exhaling this morning—a walk on the wild side was just what she had needed. Trench’s medicine was just what the doctor ordered. There were a lot of issues and mess that came along with the prescription, but sometimes a girl had to do what a girl had to do!

  It wasn’t a permanent solution, but sometimes a temporary fix was enough—and she was looking fine. Red was her color. Bright red. Men’s heads had been turning the whole way in to work. The suit was loud, no doubt about it. There was also no doubt that the dull, drab office she worked in needed all the color it could get. And she was just the one to bring it.

  The people in the office were pale and dead. Someone might as well dig a six-foot hole and shovel them all in. Green might be the color of new life in the Emerald City, but gray was the color in the pit.

  Michelle was almost skipping. She nodded at her fellow pit-dwellers as she walked past them to her desk. She even spoke to some of those who didn’t work her nerves too badly.

  Still, she wasn’t up for any foolishness. It had been a tough few weeks. Todd was, as usual, still putting on the pressure. Trench was in and out, acting like he was doing her a favor to stop by—though his stopping by did loosen the valve just a little bit. Miz Ida was acting like she had just forgotten all the years of pain Michelle’s mother had put her through. Or at least Miz Ida was acting like Michelle should just order up a plate full of joy and forgiveness or pretend that she didn’t remember what her mother—Cassie—had done. Sometimes it was easier to think of her as a woman named Cassie than as Momma. Anyway, how did Miz Ida figure that was going to happen? There was no way Michelle was going to forgive—and try all she wanted, she couldn’t forget. Drugs didn’t do it, alcohol didn’t do it, running away didn’t do it.

  But that was enough of that. Right now she was feeling good and she was looking good. No doubt. Sister had it going on!

  When she turned the corner, Shadrach was in the middle of the aisle with a cart. He didn’t have to deliver packages anymore; he was over the group of men that delivered. But Shad said he liked mixing with the people, keeping his ear open to what was going on. Of course, it could have been that he was trying to keep his eyes on her. Michelle laughed to herself. In fact, that was much more likely.

  “Hey, baby girl.”

  Something about Shadrach always made her smile. “What’s up, Shad?”

  “Just a brotha man trying to stay warm and alive in a cold, cruel, and lonely world.” His arms were full of boxes and large envelopes. “How about you?”

  “You know what, Shad? If I told you everything, we’d be standing in this aisle until Kingdom Come.” She sighed, then shook her head. “But I’m not going to let it get me down. Michelle is going to survive.” She adjusted her jacket and touched her hair. “And I’m going to survive with style!” Snap! She popped her fingers.

  Shadrach laughed out loud. “I know that’s right.” He admired her from head to toe as she approached. “And you got it together, baby girl, from the hairdo to the shoes.”

  Michelle laughed, too. Shad was good medicine. He was good-looking enough; his body was heavy and solid in that way men’s bodies settle into after years of football. Shad was older than the men she normally dealt with, but someday she was going to be smart enough to let someone like Shad into her life . . .

  She caught her mind before it wandered too far and got it back on track. “Like I said, I’m going to take care of Michelle.” She stopped talking when she could see Tonya out of the corner of her eye. It seemed that the telephone police never missed work. Her team leader was talking and smiling with some of the other pit dwellers.

  “I’m not going to let the man get me down—” Michelle looked in Tonya’s direction. “—even if he does look like a sister.”

  Shadrach threw back his head and his laugh boomed through the office. It was one of the things Michelle liked about Shad. He didn’t care what anyone thought about him being happy and he let it show. “Aw, man, you sure give your boss lady a hard time.”

  “She’s not my boss. And more than that, I’m tired of her thinking she’s better than me.” Michelle wasn’t speaking too lou
dly, but she also really didn’t care who overheard. They could like it or choke on it.

  “You give Tonya a hard time.” It was funny to hear Shadrach say her name. Michelle hadn’t even known he knew Tonya existed. “She’s not so bad. A little settled for my taste, maybe. But she’s got a good heart. She’s good people as far as I can see.”

  “That’s cause you don’t see her. You don’t have to work with her—she’s not policing your telephone calls. And all that holier-than-thou stuff, Shad? Every day she comes in here with her ‘Jesus, Jesus, Jesus.’ She don’t know how close she is to a beat-down. And this morning, I’m telling you, I’m about two seconds from going postal on her. I’m not about to let her ruin my inner glow today.”

  Shadrach pretended to be shocked. “Take it easy, Miss Lady. You wound a little tight this morning, aren’t you?”

  “Not until I saw her. I’m just tired of her Goody Two-shoes self trying to keep me in line.”

  “Wow. You know that’s something about you females. You all don’t cut each other any slack.”

  “What slack?” No. Shad wasn’t trying to defend Tonya?

  “Wait a minute. Don’t start rolling your neck at me, baby girl.” Shadrach smiled. “Peace, okay?” He looked up at the clock. “I’ve got to run anyway.” He started to walk away and then turned. “You got lunch plans? We could pick this up later.”

  Shad, you old dog. Michelle didn’t answer right away. Was he trying to hit on her? She smiled. What difference did it make? It would be good conversation. He would make her laugh. She wasn’t trying to marry him. “Sure, Shad. How about the cafeteria restaurant on the lower level?”

  He winked. “You got it, baby girl.”

  Michelle watched Shadrach walk away. Maybe the day was going to turn out all right after all . . . if she could just get through the day without going off on Tonya.

  She walked further into the pit and turned her head so she wouldn’t have to look at Tonya, so she wouldn’t have to speak to her. The last thing she needed was for her dream to come true. Michelle could still remember the image of herself running around the office chasing after Tonya. She had only a few weeks to go until the review for her promotion; she was pretty sure that chasing Tonya around the office and pulling at the bun the woman wore on the back of her head would not be viewed as a good thing. She made herself smile. Snatching that bun out might feel good, but Michelle was pretty sure Mrs. Judson would not see it as a career-enhancing move.

  When Michelle got close enough to see her desk, she smiled. There was a small bouquet there—pink, yellow, and white carnations; daisies; and some mums that were almost purple—arranged in a brightly colored vase. A card leaned against the vase.

  She dropped her purse and slid into her seat. She pulled the vase toward her, pushed her nose against the flowers, closed her eyes and inhaled. It was just what she needed. The flowers didn’t match her red suit, but color was color.

  She rotated the vase. It was too thoughtful a gift from Trench. The flowers had to be from Todd. It was funny, but he always seemed to know exactly when she needed cheering. Michelle breathed the scent in, again, even more deeply.

  “Good morning, Michelle.” It was Tonya. She was sitting at her desk with a goofy smile on her face. Michelle nodded her head and then closed her eyes again. She was not going to let Tonya ruin this moment. She let the petals of the flowers tickle her nose.

  Todd really was a good man, always thinking of her and doing nice things for her. Sometimes it was too much. He was too kind, too forgiving. It confused her. Michelle couldn’t tell if it was just something he did—something he would do for anyone—or if it was special just for her. She didn’t know if he was so strong he didn’t care what people thought, or if he just didn’t have sense enough to know that people would use him.

  She hadn’t been good to him. She thought of all the things she had said to Todd . . . and she thought about Trench. Her relationship with Trench had to make Todd feel like less of a man. It had to make him doubt himself. She had thought it was the one thing that was sure to make Todd leave, but he still held on.

  Michelle opened her eyes. Tonya waved at her. What was wrong with her? Why didn’t she get a life? But even Tonya’s goofiness wasn’t enough to ruin the moment.

  Michelle could hear Todd’s voice. “I’m fighting for you. You’re my wife, my gift from God.”

  Yes, Todd was fighting. She just wasn’t sure why. Was it because he didn’t have enough sense to know better, or because he loved her that much? It bothered her.

  No one could love another person that much. That kind of love was only in fairy tales. That kind of love couldn’t really exist . . . could it? That kind of love wasn’t even human.

  There were times when Todd reached in and touched her heart, or something even more elemental than her heart—something that fluttered inside of her, something with wings like a tiny bird. There was something delicate and alive in her that only Todd seemed to see, believe in, and touch. When he was able to climb over her insecurities, crest the height of her anger, and ford the rivers of her disappointments and fears—when he arrived at the shores of that delicate fluttering place, it renewed her. It was like drinking from some eternal, crystal fountain that nourishes, refreshes, and cleanses.

  When Todd held Michelle, her past washed away—the drugs, the prostitution, the molestation . . . But the place he took her to also frightened her. It gave him too much power, too easy access to her heart. What Todd did, what he made her feel, was too good to surrender to. It was too good to trust.

  At least for now.

  Michelle smelled the flowers again. Maybe . . . some day.

  She filled her lungs with the sweet perfume then set the vase down and, avoiding eye contact with Tonya, opened the card.

  There were flowers on the front of the card that looked like the bouquet on her desk, only they were tied with pink ribbon.

  This is the day that the Lord has made, the front of the card read. Rejoice and be glad!

  Definitely Todd. He couldn’t resist putting in a good one for the Lord, even when he was trying to sweet talk her. Michelle could feel a big, cheesy smile spreading across her face. She looked up to see that Tonya’s smile had gotten even bigger. So what? What difference did it make anyway? Maybe Shad was right. Maybe Tonya wasn’t so bad after all.

  She smiled briefly at her team leader, then opened the card. The inscription was handwritten. It had been a while since she had seen Todd’s handwriting.

  Michelle, I know the past few months have been hard for you.

  Todd was always thinking of her, always sensitive to what was going on in her life. He always felt her. Maybe the R&B singer Ralph Tresvant was right; maybe she did need a man with sensitivity. And wasn’t it just like Todd to be thinking of her even when he was in a hurry. His handwriting looked familiar, but unfamiliar. He must have been rushed.

  Don’t give up, Michelle. The Lord loves you and He is always with you. For, as the Bible says, even when your father and your mother abandon you the Lord will receive you.1

  He was always putting himself out for her. He made her feel warm and protected. Why was she ever stupid enough to leave him?

  Michelle, things will get better. Trust the Lord. He will not fail you.

  She didn’t deserve such a sweet, loving man.

  Know that you are always in my prayers.

  Todd must have definitely been in a hurry. His handwriting was so strange. But that was Todd, always praying. He was a good man, a very good man.

  Michelle read the salutation. Blessings to you, Michelle . . . Tonya.

  Todd was the sweetest man. How many women wouldn’t kill for a husband who sent them flowers, who prayed for them day and night, who was a passionate and powerful lover—

  Michelle’s head snapped up at the same instance she snapped back to reality. She reread the salutation.

  Blessings to you . . . Tonya.

  Tonya?

  Tonya!

&n
bsp; Tonya?

  Another name came to Michelle’s mind and to her lips—a word that was sure, once she said it, to get her fired.

  Chapter Seven

  It was ridiculous. There was no space in the office that seemed to be hers. There was no space that was free of Tonya’s influence. Michelle was sick of her.

  Let them fire her if they wanted to—Michelle was not going to be driven crazy by people at a job. She stared daggers at her team leader. Tonya still had that goofy smile on her face. What was it going to take for her to get it?

  She didn’t care what happened, she was going to give Tonya a piece of her mind. Michelle jerked her desk drawers open. How could she have been so stupid? How could she have gotten sucked in? Of course it wasn’t Todd’s handwriting. Of course it was Tonya. It was Tonya, who had taken Michelle on as her personal missionary task. It was Tonya, who kept giving her unwanted gifts—unwanted because Michelle knew there was really a price to be paid for everything.

  She looked in her lower right-hand drawer at all the little books of inspiration Tonya had left on her desk in the past few months. Of course it was Tonya. Who else was so very holy? Who else was out to make her life so miserable? The books were irritating and Tonya was irritating.

  Michelle looked across the room. Tonya was still sitting there—looking tired, dried up, and stupid. Where did she get off doing this kind of stuff? Michelle used her hand to knock the little books around her drawer. They were all colors—blue, red, yellow, purple, orange, and white. There were booklets authored by people with names unfamiliar to her. Michelle had read about one page of each of them before she dropped them into the black hole at the bottom of her desk drawer. The drawer was filled with them, all little gifts from Tonya. And underneath all the books that were scattered like confetti was a Bible—a Woman Thou Art Loosed Bible. It was still in its original packaging, still unopened.

  This was it. This was it! Michelle shoved the flowers toward the edge of her desk and almost knocked them over. This was it. Why couldn’t she just have some peace? This was the last straw.