“I doubt that I’ll be seeing him again, at least not on a personal basis.”
“You haven’t heard from him at all? I find that hard to believe.”
“I haven’t talked to him; I didn’t say that he hadn’t called me. I just haven’t called him back or taken his calls. He even sent me tulips,” she admitted.
“How long has it been since you had actual face time with him? The three days since the party, right? Those are the three days you haven’t slept—what a coincidence. I think you’ve made him suffer enough, Alana. And you’ve certainly suffered enough—it’s all over your face. Talk to him, go out with him, and let him hug you and hold you and make you feel better like a man is supposed to. You’ll be surprised at how much better you’ll feel when you do,” Tollie said wisely.
“Tolerance, I’m just fine,” Alana protested. “There’s nothing wrong with me or the way I live my life.”
“If there was nothing wrong, you’d be able to sleep at night. Have you ever thought about getting counseling for your depression?”
“My what? I’m not depressed; I’m always in a good mood. Do you see me dragging around town looked run-down and ratty? No, you don’t,” Alana said indignantly.
“There are all kinds of ways depression can manifest itself. It’s different for different people. And it’s not an indictment of you or your mental state, it’s a physiological thing. A chemical imbalance,” Tollie said with authority. “Did you know that lots of African-American women suffer from it? And won’t get counseling, either. There are two things most folks will not own up to—we ain’t fat, and we ain’t crazy. And because we’re in denial about these things, we don’t get help with them and we stress ourselves out needlessly. I’m not equating depressed to crazy, but you know what I mean.
“Now, me, I’m fat and I admit it. I’m fat because I eat too much, but I’m pretty so I get a pass. But even I’ve decided to take off some weight because it’s getting too hard to wear my stilettos. And it doesn’t make sense to get mad at the store because they don’t carry my size—I can either limit my shopping or limit my eating, so I guess I’ma call Weight Watchers.” She sighed heavily and ate the last bite of her key lime pie.
“I hope I didn’t hurt your feelings, Alana, because that’s the last thing I wanted to do. I wanted to shake off whatever devil has been riding you so you can be happy. And so that fine-azz Roland doesn’t go to waste. It’s not like we have a bumper crop of tall, rich, handsome, single straight men to pick from, you know. You can’t just pass him by, sister.”
Alana smiled at Tollie’s outspoken frankness and they ended their lunch with laughter and a big hug. She’d had something besides food for lunch; she’d gotten a lot of food for thought. She went back to work and found it was difficult to keep her mind off the things she and Tollie had talked about, or the things she’d listened to, since Tollie had done most of the talking. She decided to leave work early, which meant that she left at five, leaving her assistant manager to lock up, something she also never did. She thought about going over to Adrienne’s or to Alexis’s but instead of seeking out company, she went home.
* * *
She took a shower and put on a pair of pajama pants and an old denim shirt that she used for painting and went to the studio to paint. But her muse had deserted her for the night; she couldn’t get started. She’d prepared the palette and brushes and was ready to work on Adrienne’s portrait but her hand just wouldn’t cooperate.
Forcing herself to add some detailing only resulted in a slight mess that she had to clean up with a rag dampened in linseed oil. It was obviously a fruitless effort so she abandoned it.
She turned off the lights and went to the bathroom to wash her hands, staring in the mirror as she did so. Tollie was right; she did look haggard and wrung-out. Taking a deep breath, she applied more of the expensive eye cream her mother had given her and decided to go to bed.
Standing in the doorway of her bedroom, she looked at the decor with new eyes. Despite what Tollie had said, there were some new things in the room.
The furniture was new, a gift from her mother. An ivory French country queen-size bed with a matching armoire and dresser graced the space, with nightstands on either side of the bed. The duvet and curtains were beautiful, a gift from Adrienne who’d made them from a floral cotton sateen. The chair, in a coordinating color, had been contributed by Aunt BeBe. She’d found it at a yard sale and Alexis had refinished it, painted it and Adrienne had made the cover for the cushions. There was a lot of love in the room and not all of it was from Sam.
But Tollie was right about the portrait.
It was beautifully done, showing him standing against a background of trees and flowers and it was all Sam. His fair skin with the freckles that dusted his face, his curly black hair and green eyes and the smile that was for her eyes only; no one else ever saw that smile. He wasn’t a big man, like Roland. He’d been about five-ten, wiry and muscular and full of energy. Her eyes went to the other walls and true enough, there were more pictures of Sam; some had been photographed by Alana and some were her drawings and paintings.
He’d been one of her favorite subjects during their short, happy marriage and she saw no reason not to display them. Why shouldn’t they be there? It didn’t make the room a shrine, it was just the way she wanted it and if Roland couldn’t deal with it, it was his issue, not hers, she thought with a burst of anger.
Surprisingly, she drifted off to sleep. It wasn’t a restful sleep; it was fitful and full of dreams. It ended with the worst dream she’d had, ever. She saw Sam, standing at the foot of her bed, his hands in the pockets of his jeans, a familiar and usually endearing pose.
But the expression on his face was totally out of character. He was frowning at her as though she’d done something wrong. He’d never looked at her like that, ever. She sat up and asked him why he was looking at her like that. He shook his head and turned to leave the room without speaking.
Both frightened and angry, she jumped out of bed and went after him, yelling his name over and over.
“Sam, come back here! You can’t just walk out on me! What’s the matter with you, have you lost your mind? You already left me once and now you have the nerve to leave again without even saying a word to me? What’s the matter with you?”
He didn’t even turn around, he just kept moving through the house and she chased after him, getting angrier and angrier. Her voice got louder and higher until she was screaming at him, cursing him for all she was worth. She started hurling things at him, anything she could get her hands on.
He started walking to the front door and she knew she had to catch him or she’d never see him again. Her eyes were blurred with tears and she tripped over a low pillowed ottoman which made her fall, but she was close enough to grab his pants leg. His hand was on the doorknob and she tightened her grip. He turned around and said, “Let me go. Let me go, Allie. Let me go.”
The sound of her own moaning woke her; she jerked awake and threw off the covers. Her head moved back and forth as she tried to remember where she was. She fully expected to be in the living room by the door, but she was in bed. She was both hot and cold and sopping wet from sweat. Her hair was soaking wet, and so was the pillow and the sheets.
Rubbing her eyes, she realized that she’d been crying. She touched her throat, which was sore and scratchy like she’d been screaming at the top of her lungs. Swinging her legs over the side of the bed, she felt her heart pounding as she tried to stand. Staggering slightly, she made it down the hall to the dining room, looking out into the living room, fully expecting to see the things that she’d hurled at Sam all over the floor, but everything was as she’d left it, as neat as a pin. All she could do was sink into the nearest chair and cry.
She was shivering all over from the clammy sweat on her skin and her heart was still pounding. Tollie was right,
she needed to sleep. Suddenly she remembered the prescription she’d been carrying around; her doctor had given her a script for a sleeping aid but she hated taking pills of any kind. But she knew she couldn’t go on like this, especially after the horrible dream she’d just had.
Moving quickly, before she changed her mind, she went to the bedroom and put a sweatshirt on over her tank top. She didn’t even bother to put on jeans; she just put on a pair of sneakers and tied her hair up in a scarf. In minutes she was headed out.
Wal-mart was open all night and she could get the sleeping pills there.
She stopped at a red light and something moved in her peripheral vision. It was a little dog, obviously lost and frantic. The poor little thing was going from car to car, standing on its hind legs every time it got to a stopped car and it looked utterly pathetic. Without thinking about what she was doing, Alana opened her car door and got out, calling to the poor pup. It heard her soothing voice and came right to her, narrowly missing getting hit by a car. She scooped it up, ignoring the horns honking and the rather uncomplimentary things that a couple of men were shouting at her. She was back behind the wheel in seconds with the wet, bedraggled little dog clinging to her in gratitude. Putting all thoughts of the sleeping pills out of her head, she headed for home.
“You poor baby,” she soothed as she drove. “It’s okay, I’ll take care of you, yes I will. You poor little thing,” she crooned. The little dog was panting happily and licking her arm and her hand, whatever it could get to. When she got home she put her new charge inside her jacket and carried it into the house. She kicked off her sneakers at the door and went to the linen closet for some towels to dry the dog.
“You’re a girl,” she murmured. “You sure are a mess,” she said as she rubbed it all over, searching for any wounds or injuries. The dog was mostly white with back markings, especially on its face. It looked like it was wearing a mask; its bright eyes were surrounded by black and its ears, which were enormous, were also black. It was a small dog, about ten or twelve pounds, she guessed, and had what would undoubtedly be silky hair when it was shampooed and groomed. She was extremely friendly, or at least extremely grateful to be out of the cold rainy night. She had plopped herself in Alana’s lap and attempted to lick every bit of skin she could get to.
“I’ll bet you’re hungry,” Alana said. “Let’s go find you something to eat.”
About an hour later, Alana and her new friend were sound asleep on the floor in front of the fireplace. Alana had found a petite filet mignon in the refrigerator and cooked it for the puppy, trimming off every speck of fat and cutting it into bite-sized morsels.
After the puppy ate, she was dry and disheveled, although cute as she could be. Her big eyes stayed glued to Alana and she followed her everywhere as if she thought her new friend would leave her and she’d be out in the cold and rain again.
“Don’t worry, sweetie. You’re going to be just fine,” Alana assured her. She made a makeshift bed of pillows and cushions on the floor and they cuddled up and went to sleep. It was the best sleep Alana had had in years.
* * *
A week later, Alana was in her office working on the weekly payroll when the intercom buzzed and she was told that a Mr. Casey wanted to see her. She frowned slightly and said, “Send him back, please.”
She looked up as his large body filled the doorway. It was the first time she’d seen him since the night of the party and he looked just as good now as he had then. And he was bearing gifts, as usual: a bunch of her favorite flowers, this time in a gorgeous pink color. She was trying to think of the appropriate greeting but it wasn’t needed. His eyes crinkled in a smile as he noticed her companion, who was peering at him from the play area Alana had set up for her.
“Who is this? Where did you come from, cutie?”
“I found her a week ago,” Alana informed him.
To her surprise, Roland squatted down and held his fingers out to Domino, who wasted no time in trotting over to meet him. She stood up and put her paws on his knee, staring up at him as though he were the most wonderful thing she’d ever seen in her life. Her plumy tail was wagging so fast that it was a blur of black and white, and she smiled at him for all she was worth.
“Aww, man, she’s a sweet little thing, isn’t she?” He was so absorbed in making her acquaintance that he’d obviously forgotten why he’d come. He practically tossed the bouquet at Alana and said, “These are for you,” in an offhand manner while he and Domino flirted with each other. He finally picked her up in one big hand and sat down with her in his lap. She was shameless, standing up and putting her paws on his broad chest while she tried to give him kisses. He leaned down so she could have her way with his chin and he laughed his appreciation.
“You found her?”
“Yes, I did. I was on my way to the drugstore in the middle of the night and there she was. I couldn’t leave the poor little thing.”
The morning after she’d found Domino, she’d taken her straight to the vet used by Alexis and Sherri for their dogs and had her checked out thoroughly. The vet said she was less than a year old, and she gave her the basic shots and checked her for a microchip. There was no chip in her, but she’d already been spayed. Alana then took her to the groomer, and when they were finished with her she was even cuter.
Alana had used her time while Domino was being groomed to purchase a dog bed, dog food, leash, collar, harness, toys and a couple of sweaters. And a snappy red raincoat with polka dots for rainy days.
“She’s a little charmer, isn’t she? Isn’t she a papillon?”
“Yes, she is,” Alana said, impressed that he knew the breed. “I put an ad in the paper and I’ve been watching the ads to see if anyone is looking for her. I really pray no one is because I’ve gotten really attached to her. I named her Domino.”
“Because of her mask, right? She looks like she has on one of those fancy masks that people wear at masquerade balls.”
Alana had to smile at the picture Roland made with the little dog in his lap. Domino was generally shy around men, Alana had learned, but she was obviously crazy about Roland. She looked so pleased with herself and so happy to have all his attention that it was just the cutest thing ever. She finally remembered her manners and thanked Roland for the tulips.
“They’re lovely. I really appreciate them, Roland.”
“I’m glad you like them. I enjoy giving you flowers because I love seeing you happy,” he said. “I also brought them as an apology because I think you misunderstood my intent the last time we were together and I want to put things back in order.”
“You don’t beat around the bush, do you? I guess I should apologize for not taking your calls. That’s childish as well as being passive-aggressive and I’m better than that. Do you want a lint roller for your suit?”
He was wearing a really expensive one that looked like it was hand-tailored for his height. It was a beautiful black worsted worn with a lavender shirt and purple silk tie and pocket square that gave him the look of a Fortune 100 CEO.
“Naw, I had some meetings earlier but I’m going home after this, so it’s not a problem. I’ve had dogs all my life so I’m used to dog hair, muddy footprints, whatever. She looks very well cared for, by the way.”
“She is. She’s been to the vet and the groomer and she has a nice bed and lots of toys and she’s the best company in the world. I haven’t gotten any answers to my ad and I haven’t seen any lost dog posters, and if I do, I don’t how I’ll react. I don’t want to lose her,” Alana admitted.
“Don’t worry about it, Alana. I think she was meant for you and you were meant for her. It’ll be fine.” He laughed as Domino gave a little bark of agreement.
“Listen, honey, I had to go out of town and I’m just getting back, which is why I haven’t been here to plead my case in person until now. I wanted to know if you’d h
ave dinner with me so we can talk about me putting my foot in my mouth the last time we were together. Does that sound doable?”
Alana felt the usual rush of pleasure she felt whenever Roland was near. “Yes, it does. Would you like to come over tonight? I’m not a trained chef like you, but I can make a mean sloppy joe,” she said with a laugh.
“How about if I come to your house and cook for you and Domino? I have the feeling that you don’t like leaving her too much.”
“You’re right about that. The first time I was leaving to go to work she went and got her leash and brought it to me as if to say, ‘I’m ready, let’s go,’ so I’ve been bringing her in with me. Dinner at home sounds like heaven, actually, and we’d love it. By the way, would you like to see the progress we’ve made on Black Beauty?”
“Absolutely, I sure would. May I bring the little princess with me?”
“Of course, just don’t put her down. She’s getting to be real sociable and I don’t want her trampled underfoot.” She got up and came around the desk. “Come with me and see if you notice any improvements,” she said cheerfully.
They walked through the showroom to the service area, stopping several times so that customers could admire Domino. The admiration in the women’s eyes for Roland was plain to see, although the men only had eyes for Alana. Tollie came out of the employee break room in time to see the three of them and she was positively jubilant, although she tried to be low-key about it.
“Ooh, there’s something so adorable about seeing a great big man with an itty-bitty dog,” she said. “It’s like seeing a little kid with a great big dog, you know? It’s just so cute. I think Miss Domino likes you,” she told Roland.
Alana laughed. “She loves him, Tollie. Absolutely adores him. I don’t know how I’m going to tear her away from him. It’s a good thing he’s coming over to cook dinner for us tonight because I don’t think she’d forgive me if she didn’t see him again.”
Roland held Domino up to eye level and said, “She loves her mommy best, you’d better believe it. And she’s going to see lots of me, aren’t you, baby girl?”
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