Doin' Me

by Wanda B. Campbell

  “You look troubled. Man, what’s up?” Kevin asked when he joined Tyson on the deck after dinner.

  Tyson was troubled, but the day belonged to his godson. “I am troubled that you ate the last of the banana pudding your mother made. I thought I was your boy.”

  Kevin licked the spoon clean. “You are my boy. That’s why I had Marlissa put a bowl aside for you before Leon devoured it.”

  “Thanks.” Tyson turned his back to his friend and stuffed his hands into the front pockets of the designer jeans he’d changed into after the ceremony. The views of the bay and the city from Kevin’s deck were breathtaking. The view from Tyson’s bedroom balcony equaled their glory. Unfortunately for Tyson, the peace he normally enjoyed eluded him today. He still didn’t know how to broach the subject of Reyna with Mylan.

  Kevin stood beside him and offered him a bottle of water. “So how are things progressing with Mylan? She’s a beautiful woman.”

  “That she is,” Tyson agreed.

  “Is it serious?”

  Tyson took a swig. “Not yet, and it might not ever be thanks to our nosy friends.”

  “They mean well,” Kevin said when he recovered from laughing after Tyson told him about the prayer warriors’ shenanigans.

  Tyson turned and looked through the sliding glass door into the great room. “Maybe I should go and get her before they start round two.”

  Kevin dismissed his concern while twisting the cap off of his water bottle. “Mylan is perfectly safe. The dynamic prayer duo is too busy commanding devils out of my mother to pay your girl any attention.”

  “Do they ever turn it off?”

  “I doubt it. Mother Scott probably speaks in tongues in her sleep. So is she your girl?” Kevin said, probing.

  Tyson sat down on a lounge chair and leaned back.

  “Well?”

  “I want her to be,” Tyson answered honestly. “She’s gorgeous, smart, and considerate. She loves the Lord, and my parents love her.”

  “But—”

  “There are no buts. I’m just taking it slow. What?” he asked when Kevin continued staring at him.

  “It’s me you’re talking to, remember? What’s the problem?”

  Tyson looked back toward the great room, then leveled with his best friend. “Here’s the deal. I like the package. My father said it’s more important to marry someone who loves me than to wait for the love bug to strike me. A good woman like Mylan will help build a good home. Love can come later.”

  “Is that what he did? Marry your mother without love?”

  The question stung. The idea that his father didn’t love his mother when they married had never occurred to him. What was worse was that he couldn’t say unequivocally that love had ever arrived for his parents. They shared a bond, but in Tyson’s opinion, they lacked intimacy.

  “Is that what you want? An arrangement?”

  “That’s not what I’m saying. Mylan’s a good catch, and I—”

  “Look, man,” Kevin interrupted. “I’m thrilled you’re building a relationship with your father. You’ve loosened up a great deal. Look at you. I haven’t seen you in jeans since college. Granted, it’s an eight-hundred-dollar pair, but jeans nonetheless.”

  “I have my standards,” Tyson joked.

  “Yes, you do, and the judge isn’t an expert on relationships. That’s why you haven’t committed to Mylan. Your heart’s not in it.” Kevin let the words marinate before continuing. “On the surface you and Mylan look good together, but I don’t see anything equal to the passion you have for Reyna.”

  “Had!” Tyson jumped up. “I had passion for Reyna, but that’s over. I’ve moved on. Pursuing her was a big mistake. That’s why I’m taking my time with Mylan. I don’t trust my heart. Everyone doesn’t have what you and Marlissa and Leon and Starla have. As much as you loved each other, you had to go through hell to keep that love. Love doesn’t guarantee happiness.” Tyson paced the length of the deck. “Maybe my father is right. Marriage doesn’t have to equal love, at least not in the beginning. Love can come later.”

  Kevin downed the rest of the water, then tossed the bottle in the recycle bin. “If you really believe that, then commit to Mylan and move the woman you love out of your property.”

  Chapter 21

  Reyna rushed into her workstation at the real estate office and dumped her bag on the floor. She had two minutes to swap her Nikes for a pair of heels and get to the conference room for the weekly staff meeting. She hated these meetings, but Paige thought them necessary to keep the agents on target and motivated. Reyna’s role was primarily that of a note taker, but through the process she learned about the business, and she hoped to one day own her own home.

  Home. That was a place she hadn’t been in a while. Although she ate and slept at the town house, it no longer felt like home—not with an unemployed substance abuser living there.

  After she caught him snorting Tyson’s furniture up his nose and then suffered his subsequent verbal and physical attack three months ago, Peyton apologized profusely and begged for forgiveness. He swore the cocaine had spoken those vicious words and not his heart. He had even vowed to enroll in to a rehabilitation program and get a legitimate job. “It won’t happen again. I promise. I love you.” He’d made the declaration on his knees, with tears and snot running down his face. His sincerity and his profession of love had convinced Reyna to give him another chance, but she slept with the poker underneath her bed, just in case.

  Peyton had lived up to his promises. He even bathed regularly. He catered to Reyna’s every need. He did the housekeeping and cooked and presented Reyna with the results of his Internet job search when she returned home from work. He compiled a list of rehab programs, and not once did he ask to use her car. He discussed every decision with her, no matter how small, and showered her with affection. The new and improved Peyton was the man of Reyna’s dreams. After seven days, she learned dreams could transform into nightmares.

  Thinking all Peyton needed to overcome his habit was her support, Reyna ignored the subtle signs that she was being manipulated again. When fifty dollars disappeared from her purse, Peyton convinced her she’d miscalculated on their last trip to the grocery store. Two days later, she planned to run errands during her lunch break but couldn’t find her car. It wasn’t where she’d parked it that morning. Reyna called the police to report it stolen, only to have Peyton drive up while the officer was taking her report. Peyton swore he’d told Reyna he planned to use the vehicle for a job interview. She knew he was lying. As much as they needed the money, she would have remembered an employment opportunity. She gave him the benefit of the doubt until she came home and found her debit card on the coffee table, next to his mirror and glass straw. She called the bank and nearly fainted when she discovered that not only had he stolen her card, but he’d snorted the rent money up his nose.

  Hours of yelling and screaming climaxed with more tears and confessions of love from Peyton, and Reyna once again rescinding her demand for him to move out. Instead of asking Paige for an advance, she went to the local payday loan broker and borrowed enough to cover the rent plus the late fee. She still owed Fast Cash money. Then she rented a post office box and opened new bank accounts. She kept the new debit card locked in her drawer at work. It was inconvenient, but necessary. Peyton had already hocked everything of value in the town house. Their sex life had dwindled to nothing, but she didn’t miss it, and apparently neither did Peyton, because he didn’t approach her. To dilute the painful reality of her dismal life, Reyna indulged in a nightly dose of vodka and orange juice.

  This morning she ran behind schedule because Peyton accused her of hiding money from him because she didn’t trust him. As usual, during the weekly argument Reyna lied and said that she wasn’t hiding any money and that she trusted him, but not the drug that controlled him. She thought she’d soothed him, until he cursed her out and then punched a hole in the bathroom wall. Just what she needed: something else to replace. A
t this rate she’d be in debt to Tyson the remainder of her natural life.

  She made it to the conference room with ten seconds to spare. Paige acknowledged her presence by telling her to pass out the agenda.

  “Sure,” Reyna said through gritted teeth. Even though Paige was her boss, she hated whenever the woman told her what to do.

  Paige opened the meeting with prayer. The downside of working for a Christian employer, other than being jealous of her, was the weekly “Come to Jesus” prayer. Although Reyna no longer believed the hype, she bowed her head, but instead of praying, she hummed the beat to her favorite song.

  An hour later Reyna’s to-do list overflowed with requests not only from Paige, but from other agents as well.

  “Reyna, I need to speak to you privately for a moment,” Paige stated at the close of the meeting. “The rest of you may leave.”

  What did I do now? she wondered as the agents filed out of the room. Reyna hoped she wasn’t being fired when Paige stood and closed the door after the last agent.

  “Reyna, you’re doing a good job.”

  Reyna exhaled.

  “I’ve noticed a remarkable change in your work habits since you joined us six months ago. I’ll admit I hired you only as a favor to Tyson, and your meddling almost got you fired. However, you’ve changed. Tyson was right about you. You have the potential to do great things. I hope you consider returning to school. According to Tyson, you’re close to obtaining your master’s.”

  The last thing Reyna had expected was a compliment from Paige. Pride prevented her from saying thank you. She swallowed the lump in her throat, wondering what else Tyson had said about her. “I might go back someday, but right now I have to support myself.”

  Paige nodded as if she understood completely, and Reyna knew what was coming next. “Well, pray about it. God can turn things around if we trust Him. Until then, you’ve earned your six-month salary increase. The other agents and I have agreed to pay you an additional stipend to perform code calls and set listing appointments. This will free us to devote more time to our existing customers and gain new ones.”

  Reyna jumped up. “Really?” She’d forgotten all about the six-month increase provision in her employment contract. The code-calling stipend was an added bonus.

  For the first time, Paige’s laughter filled the room. Reyna’s gut contracted; even the woman’s laugh was eloquent.

  “It’s not much, but it’ll help.” Paige turned to leave but stopped short of the door. “God has so much more for you than what you’re settling for. Find a way to finish school. I’ll help in any way I can.”

  Reyna heard the words but didn’t have time to take heed. Paige had just given her the means to pay off the payday advance loan. The company called her so much, she had to download a Chinese-speaking voice mail message to throw them off.

  Reyna floated through the rest of the day. The increase in pay would eventually solve her money problem. The extra money would give her the chance to catch up on some bills and finally get a tune-up on her car. On the way home, she debated whether to share the good news with Peyton, then decided against it. He’d find a way to snort the money up before she earned it.

  She stopped short of opening the town house door when she arrived home that evening, opting to sit on the bench swing on the porch for a few minutes to gather the strength to deal with Peyton. Every day when she came home, he badgered her for money, and when she swore she didn’t have any, he’d curse at her, then leave, only to return in the middle of the night.

  She looked around the subdivision and noticed something was missing—her car. Which meant Peyton wasn’t home. She entered the town house with renewed energy, only to have it sapped from her the next minute and replaced with anger.

  An unfamiliar skinny blond woman lay on the couch. The stranger offered an empty smile before her glossy eyes rolled to the back of her head.

  Reyna violently shook the woman. “Who the . . . are you? Why are you in my house?”

  “Will you shut up?” Peyton said, emerging from the bedroom, wearing jeans and no shirt, with the glass straw in his hand. “Stupid broad, you’re always messing up somebody’s high. What are you doing here this early, anyway? Shouldn’t you be at work?”

  Reyna huffed and jumped in his face. “Cokehead, it’s six o’clock in the evening.” She pointed back at the semiconscious woman. “Who is she? What is she doing here?”

  Peyton’s head shook and his eyes blinked like he was confused. “I guess I lost track of the time. We’re usually done before you get home.”

  “I said . . .” Reyna paused when his words resonated. “Are you telling me, you and this cokehead tramp have been snorting up in my house every day?”

  “Don’t talk about Laci like that. She’s a good person who enjoys the same recreation I do.” He turned to walk away and then turned back, like he’d just remembered something important. “If it’s really six o’clock, she’s late picking up her kids from the child-care center.” He went over and shook her. “Come on, Laci, wake up.”

  Reyna’s visual field flooded with red dots, and rage consumed her the longer she watched Peyton attempt to awaken the woman. Disdain dripped from her lips. “I can’t believe you’re cheating on me with that. You’re leaving me for that?” Before she could strike his back, he turned around.

  “I’m not stupid like you are. Laci and I are only friends.”

  “I don’t believe you!”

  “I don’t care. As pathetic as you are, I’m not leaving you. I’d be as stupid as you are to walk away from my bread and butter. All I have to do is show you a little attention and you’ll believe anything I tell you.”

  The corners of her eyes burned with tears. Peyton’s truth serum was working again, and like before, the truth hurt.

  “You promised you were going to stop using.” If her heart wasn’t broken, Reyna would have laughed at the ludicrous promise. What drug addict doesn’t promise to stop using?

  “I lied. I told you that only so I could stay here.”

  Reyna flinched.

  “I don’t ever plan to stop. I’m in love with the rock. So stop hassling me about it, because I’m not going to stop. I’m not moving out, either.” He snapped his fingers like he had a thought. “I bet if you tried some, you wouldn’t be so uptight.”

  “I believed you. I thought you were different.”

  “Why? Because I’m white? See, that just proves how slow you are. Darling, a man is a man no matter what color he is.”

  Both of their heads turned in the direction of the squeaky sound. Laci was pointing up at the ceiling and laughing.

  “Good. She’s awake. I’ll call the cab to pick us up.” Peyton pulled out the cell phone Reyna had paid for, and dialed a number. “You should think about what I said. A rock-climbing trip will relax you, and then maybe the three of us can have some fun.” He winked. “You know what I mean?”

  Reyna knew exactly what he meant, but was too stunned by the invitation to speak. She wanted to slap his face, but her hands felt like lead. As she listened to him arrange for a taxi, Paige’s parting words recycled through her brain. She deserved better than Peyton. He had to leave. She wanted him gone, far away from her, but first she had one more question.

  “Peyton, where is my car?”

  He glanced at Laci, and they both burst into laughter. Mirth poured from Peyton with such force, he leaned against the table for support.

  “Darling, your car is probably in three states by now.”

  Reyna fell back against the wall for support. “What?”

  “How do you think we financed our adventure?” he asked, pulling his shirt out from underneath Laci. “We sold your car for parts to one of Laci’s friends. At least now you don’t have to worry about getting a tune-up.”

  Reyna felt her body sliding down the wall but didn’t stop its descent. “You chopped my car?”

  “Got over three grand for it.” The words rolled off his tongue as if his actions
were rational.

  Peyton lifted Laci from the couch and steadied her as she stood upright. “The taxi will be here in a minute. We have to get Laci’s kids before the child-care center calls CPS again.” Laci followed him mechanically. “Don’t forget to call the insurance company and report the car stolen so we can get a new car soon. Laci’s husband is away on business, so I probably won’t be home tonight,” he called over his shoulder. Then the door closed.

  Reyna’s bottom hit the floor with a thud.

  Chapter 22

  Reyna jolted upright at the sound of the alarm clock. Blindly, she aimed for the nightstand to silence the noise. When her hand hit the wall, she remembered she wasn’t in bed, but on the floor. She’d rolled over and fallen out of bed sometime during the night. Too drunk to gather her bearings, she’d slept on the carpeted floor.

  She opened her eyes, but the throbbing in her head allowed her to stretch only briefly. No body aches, thanks to the extra padding beneath the once plush carpet. How or why Peyton had cut patches out of it was a mystery to be solved at another time. Right now the ocean waves rolling around inside her stomach demanded her immediate attention. After brewing a cup of tea, Reyna showered and prepared for the long trek to work—on the bus.

  The option of driving to work in the vehicle she owned had been stripped from her. Thanks to Peyton, that luxury would elude her indefinitely, since she’d let the insurance lapse on the car after she paid it off. Taking care of Peyton had drained her resources, and she just hadn’t been able to keep up with everything.

  Taking care of Peyton. How did that happen? Reyna had asked that question before every swig of vodka and orange juice last night. Three-fourths of the way through the bottle, she still hadn’t had an answer to that question but had decided Peyton was right about one thing: she was stupid. That was the only theory she could come up with to explain why she had shunned a good man who could provide for her and had embraced one who sought only to take from her.