“Sounds like a job to me,” Sammie said, laughing.
“That’s exactly what I’m talking about.”
“You, work? Girl, don’t you know how good it is not to have to do that shit? I’d cut off my left arm if I didn’t have to put up with this corporate bullshit every damn day. You are living in a stress-free world of your own making, girl. You better appreciate that shit.”
“That’s the point, Sammie, I don’t appreciate it. I’m bored out of my mind. At least a job would give me something to bitch about and if I don’t like it, shit, I can quit.”
“Yeah, I see your point. It’s easier to take bullshit when you know that you don’t have to. What kind of work would you want to do?”
“Promise me you won’t laugh, but I really would like to work with children.”
“Are you for real?”
“Yeah, you know I love kids and since I can’t have any of my own I figure the next best thing would be to work with them. I’ve even considered adoption.”
“Damn, how come I didn’t know you felt this deeply about this?”
“I just finally admitted it to myself. I’m not going to make any decisions yet. I think I am going to go on a vacation to sort out how I’m really feeling.”
“Oh, vacation, sounds like fun. Want some company?”
“Naw, girl, I think I need to be by myself for a minute. You know the old saying, if you can’t figure out where you’ve been, how are you gonna know where you want to go?”
“I hear ya. That’s the kind of journey I need to take myself.”
“Enough with this depressing shit. We can talk about it some other time. Go find your man and ya’ll have some fun for me too. I’ll wait here for your call to make sure you have a ride.”
“Alright, sis. I love you.”
“Yeah, I love you too. Thanks for the play. I had a blast.”
“Me too. I’ll holla when I find him.”
For a few moments neither of us moves. I want Sammie to hurry up because the longer she waits, the more likely it will be that Buddy would have left. Although her house is not far from mine, I am aching to be alone. Besides, I know that if I say anything else, it won’t come out right. Sammie releases her seatbelt, gives me a kiss, and waves good-bye.
My cell phone rings as soon as Sammie shuts the door. I pluck it off the side of my purse and glance at the caller ID. I am not surprised to see Mike’s name flash across the screen. I send the call to voice mail. I don’t feel like dealing with his shit right now. I have enough on my mind without adding his bullshit in the mix.
Sammie calls to tell me that she found Buddy. Relieved, I drive home as if the bats of hell are chasing me. All I want to do is take a hot bath, pour myself a cool glass of wine, and curl up with a good book. With a heavy sigh, I get my ass out of the car. Dumping my purse and shoes on the sofa, I pad into the bathroom in my stocking feet. Pausing, I light a few candles as I turn on the water and add some bath salts.
In the kitchen, I grab a glass for my wine and bring it and the entire bottle to the bathroom with me. I only stop long enough to fill up the ice bucket to keep the wine cold. Removing my clothes, I allow cleansing tears to fall with each discarded item. I’m not crying over Mike. He’s minor in the scheme of things. I’m not even crying because of how lonely I feel. It runs much deeper than that. I am crying for all the years I wasted away without a purpose. I never stopped to think about which direction I wanted my life to take. I was content to live in the moment, any moment, and I’m crying for the one thing that I could never get back—time.
I slowly lower myself into the water. My tension releases into the air and my body relaxes. As I take my first sip of the wine, the phone rings. Instinctively, I rise to answer, but then change my mind. Whoever it is can wait. I ease back onto the cold vinyl pillow stuck to the back of the tub and grab my book. Moisture drips from my forehead and I use the back of my arm to wipe it away. The phone rings four times before the answering machine picks up. It is Mike. I can hear his begging ass urging me to pick up the phone, but I’m not feeling it.
While I soak in the tub, a plan forms in my mind. Everyone has something to motivate them. For the last five years, since my divorce, my only motivation has been having fun. But I finally realize that there is more to life than just having fun. Everything in life has a purpose, including pain, especially if you use that pain to motivate change. For too long, I’ve been complacent, settling for fast men and bling bling. It’s time I move though my pain.
Learning to trust again has been my biggest problem. My ex-husband hurt me so badly when he cheated on me that I vowed to never give my heart to any man again. Maybe I wouldn’t have felt so bad if he’d cheated with another woman instead of a man. It is time for me to let go of the past and embrace the future.
After the cookout next week, I will go on vacation before I make some drastic decision about my future. I’m not sure I want a job, but I am going to look into it before I leap. I am also going to explore adopting a child. I’ve been toying with the idea for a long time, but never really believed I could do it until I said it today. The thought makes me feel stronger somehow.
Energized, I jump out of the tub trailing water behind me. The idea of a vacation is looking better and better. While I’m away, I will concentrate on where I want my life to go from this point.
Logging on the internet, I search Yahoo Travel for the perfect vacation. I feel alive for the first time in years.
Jasmine
Cookout day is finally here. Mom and I have been very busy planning and arranging everything. The flowers have been delivered, the waiters are due at ten, and everyone else is expected at twelve. The food is being supplied by Justin’s restaurant and should arrive by eleven. They promised it will still be hot. Yep, everything is running smoothly. I turned the ringer off on my phone last night because Sammie was blowing it up. She is nervous and I can understand it, but enough is enough. I mean, how many times can I keep telling her that everything is going to be okay?
I was about to turn the ringer back on, but someone is knocking on the door. I expect to see Sammie when I peek through the peephole, but am surprised to find Mike grinning at me.
I’ll say one thing. That nigga has some fucking balls just dropping by my house all uninvited. Balls or not, it is not enough for me to open the door. I’m not upset anymore about him being with another woman, because, after all, he is not my man. I am upset that he didn’t think enough of me to cancel our date.
Mike knocks several more times before he slips a note under the door. I wait until I hear his car peel away before I retrieve the note.
Dear Jazz,
First let me say that I am very sorry about last week. I found myself in a difficult situation and instead of being a man, I chose the coward’s way out and lied to you. I’m sorry for this, I really am. When I close my eyes, all I can see is your face and remember the pain I caused you. I don’t like the way it makes me feel inside one bit.
I think of you as my sunny day and now the only thing I see in my forecast is rain. The only person I can blame for this is me. I know you must hate me by now, but I tried to call you and you wouldn’t pick up the phone. I hope in time you will allow me to make it up to you.
When I said that I wanted to take you away to see the play, I meant it and the offer still stands. Please let me make this up to you. Please. The lady you saw me with last week was an old girlfriend. I’d purchased the tickets for us when they first went on sale months ago. I assumed she wouldn’t be going because we were no longer seeing each other, especially since she moved out of town. I wouldn’t have extended the invitation to you to go to the play if I had any idea that she would be showing up. She was on my doorstep when I got home. She flew in specifically for the play. I did what was easiest for me. I took her and lied to you. I know now that both options were unacceptable.
I understand that I destroyed my best chance at happiness that I’ve ever had, but I hope one day you will
forgive me. That woman means nothing to me and I don’t mean anything to her. She left the very next day and I promise you, she slept on the sofa.
I know you probably don’t believe me, but I had to tell you my side of the story, the truth this time. I’m not begging for a second chance because I think I deserve it. I’m begging because I need it.
I know I’m not worthy, but if you give me half a chance, I will make it up to you. I will give you a few days to think about it and I’ll call you. Please pick up the phone. Terribly sorry, Mike.
I read the letter four times, and each time I can’t decide how I feel. I don’t know whether I believe him or not. It is a beautiful letter. That is, if it is true. I fold up the note and place it on the coffee table. I make a snap decision that I pray will not come back and bite me in the butt. Irregardless of the circumstances, Mike still lied to me and I was not about to enter into a relationship with a liar. Been there, done that, end of story. As I turn on the ringer on my phone, I decide to get dressed. I have to get downstairs to help out just in case someone arrives early. I don’t want Mom overdoing it. When I finish dressing, I call Sammie.
“Hey sis, do you want me to swing by and pick you up?”
“Obviously, you haven’t listened to your messages. I’ve been calling you all night. I was about to do a drive-by to make sure your ass was okay.”
“I’m sorry, girl. I was taking some me time. So do you wanna ride or what?”
“Yeah, I’d really appreciate it. I don’t want to walk in the lion’s den alone. Plus I had this awful dream last night and I wanted to talk to you before the cookout.”
“What was it about?”
“Well, we were at the cookout and everything was going good and we were actually having fun until Buddy walked in.”
“Buddy? That should have made you feel better.”
“I know, right? But as he got closer to me he started to change. Instead of his regular gait, he was pimp-walking, giving folks the finger as he passed. By the time he got to me, it wasn’t Buddy. It was Jessie. I started screaming at him and everyone was looking at me like I was crazy.”
“Girl, we have to do something about your active imagination. It’s on overdrive.”
“But, Jazz, it was so real. I could even smell his cheap-ass cologne. I woke up shaking and sweating.”
“I think it’s a mind game with you. Every time things start going well for you, you bring Jessie in to bring you down and get you depressed. It’s almost like a security blanket with you, to keep you from being totally happy.”
“Do you think so? Because if this is something I am conjuring up in my mind, I will put a stop to it right now. I’m sick of seeing his tired ass either in my dreams or in person.”
“I know that’s right. Look, if you want to go with me you’d better get dressed. I need to get back here to help Mom.”
“I’ve been dressed for the last hour. I have changed my clothes at least twelve times and finally I just said fuck it. I don’t know who is going to clean up the mess I made trying to decide what to wear.”
“Unless you got money for a maid, you will, ’cause I ain’t about to help you clean up your damn room.”
“Dag, sis, I would help you.”
“You’re only saying that because you know I have a maid. I’ll be through in half an hour. Don’t change clothes again, hear? I’m sure what you were wearing the first time was fine.”
“Yeah, I know. That’s what I finally decided to wear. I’ll see you when you get here.”
“Fool, stop trippin’. It ain’t that serious.”
I’m not about to tell Sammie that the aunts and uncles can be a handful if they are allowed to pass the bottle around. As it is, they are likely to say anything out their mouths. But I feel confident that since the cookout is so early none of them would have had a chance to get their drink on. Plus, they promised Momma to act right.
Taking one last look around my apartment, I grab a few of my CDs to stir things up. I know that they like old school, so I had Sammie ask Buddy to make us a few more CDs, and she will be bringing them. I will make sure the DJ keeps things mixed up. The phone rings before I can actually pull the door closed. Debating whether to answer or not, curiosity gets the better of me and I grab the phone. It’s my mother.
“Oh, hey, Mom, I was just leaving to go pick up Sammie.”
“There’s been a change in plans. I need you to pick up your Aunt Mavis.”
“Ah, damn, why did she wait until the last minute to tell me?”
“You know how your aunt is.”
“Why doesn’t she ride with Aunt Rosa? They live around the corner from each other.”
“Well, it’s Rosa’s fault she wants to ride with you. Rosa told her she is too old to be riding in those fast and fancy cars.”
“So she had to prove her wrong, right?”
“You guessed it.”
“I can see it now. She is going to ask me to put the top down and I’m going to argue with her. She’ll pout and I’ll wind up putting it down and spending the next twenty minutes chasing her wig.”
“Sounds like you’ve done this before.”
“Yes, I have.”
“Baby, I’m sorry. If there was another way to do this, I wouldn’t have called you.”
“It’s not your fault, Mom. I don’t mind picking her up, but Sammie has been trippin’ for the last forty-eight hours and she is counting on me to come get her.”
“Well, can’t you get both of them?”
“Yeah, I could’ve if Aunt Mavis didn’t wait so long. There is no way that I can pick them both up and be back in time to help you with the food.”
“I know, baby. I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay, Mom. Plus, it ain’t your fault. Sammie will just have to understand.”
“Yeah, because Aunt Lenora will nut up for sure if we leave her there alone with Aunt Rosa.”
“Yeah, I guess Sammie will understand. I’ll call her from the car. I just hope Auntie is ready, ’cause the last time she had taken a laxative and I had to stay out in the car for forty-five minutes waiting for her to finish.”
“Why couldn’t you stay in the house?”
“You know how Aunt Mavis gets down. See ya later.”
I hang up the phone laughing, but I am not looking forward to the next call I have to make. Sammie must have sensed something was up because she hit me right up on my cell.
“Where are you? I have walked a hole in my carpet.”
“I got bad news, sis. Mom just called and I have to pick up Aunt Mavis. There’s no way I can get you both and still help Mom out, so you are going to have to drive yourself.”
“Shit.”
“I know, but Aunt Mavis said her arthritis is acting up and she can’t drive. If I don’t go get her, there is going to be hell to pay because she is the peacemaker between Aunt Lenora and Aunt Rosa. Trust me, you don’t want to see them get all riled up.”
“They are sisters. What’s the beef?”
“They dislike Aunt Rosa because she is the oldest and they think she treats them like children. They will kill each other if Mavis ain’t there to stop it.”
“Oh, well, I understand. I just wish I wasn’t so nervous.”
“It’s going to be fine. Why don’t you come to Mom’s now? This way you will already be there when folks start arriving and you won’t have to walk in alone.”
“Yeah, I think I will do that. But hurry up, okay?”
“Okay. I’ll be there as soon as I can. Oh, and help Mom out if things start happening. If I don’t keep an eye on her, she will go overboard and be sick for a month.”
“Alright, then, I’ll see you there.”
I could hear the disappointment in Sammie’s voice, but there isn’t anything I can do about it. It is too bad Leah can’t make it because this is sure to be quite a party, but I understand her need to get away with her man. Shoot, that vacation I was thinking about is looking better and better.
; Leah
Craig has arranged a weekend getaway as he said he would and it isn’t a minute too soon. The last two weeks have been stressful for us both. For some reason, Craig’s temper has been short with me and even the staff is commenting on his curtness. Of course, they don’t realize the extent of our relationship, so they feel free to bitch in front of me. Craig is acting differently. He hardly wants to spend time talking over the phone like we normally do. And when I come to get the kids, he seems too busy to walk me to my car let alone have a conversation. Maybe it’s just me—I’m still relationship shy after Kentee. Now it seems like our relationship is fizzling, so I automatically jump at any opportunity to revive it.
However, Craig is acting like he has a chip on his shoulder. He doesn’t speak during our six-hour drive to Tunica unless he wants me to hand him something. My thoughts are running rampant. I’m feeling scared. Has he finally had enough of my emotional baggage and is only taking me on this trip for a final rumble in the sheets?
At the hotel, I feel defeated in spite of all the luxury around me. Craig and I walk in silence to one of the restaurants in the casino. Even the thought of playing the machines does not excite me as much as a smile from Craig would. My thoughts are on the kids and what they are doing instead of on my man. We are not holding hands like we normally do and I don’t like it one bit. His behavior is frightening me.
“This restaurant has a seafood buffet. Would you like to try it?”
“That will be fine.” I don’t feel like having a whole bunch of conversation, so a buffet will be perfect. If he didn’t have anything to say during the drive, what are we going to talk about now? We wait on our table in silence and I can feel the tension mounting. He finally touches me as the waitress tells us to follow her and I practically jump out of my skin. He places his hand on the small of my back, urging me forward. His fingers feel cold and clammy. I shudder. He touches me again and I am grateful, but there’s no warmth. I don’t want to lose him, but I’m not going to beg. Been there, done that.
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