“I’m not, Jac. Trust me, I’m not. But you do have to look at both sides of the problem, and I think it takes two to tango. I mean it would be easy just to say he’s a dog, but I believe there’s more to it than that.”
“Well, tell me this. Deep in your heart . . . do you really think—”
“I used to. Now I’m not so sure anymore.”
“Used to what?”
Betty held her breath and then said, “Used to think he loved me.”
“Damn, you do know me too well.”
“I mean he acts the same . . . but different. Know what I mean? Seems like he’s just going through the paces sometimes.”
“Are you sure all of this changed when you got the case? Or was it after you told him you loved him?”
Betty gazed at the carpet, not wanting to answer the question. The question that had kept her awake the previous night.
“Well, anyway, girl, do you think it’s worth salvaging? And if so, what are you willing to do to keep him?”
As Betty opened her mouth to answer, Carol said over the intercom, “Miss Robinson, Renfro on two-oh-four.”
“Thanks, Carol. One second, okay?” Betty said as she eased from her desk and put on her shoes. “Jacqui? Dear, I got a call coming through. Can I call you back later?”
“You know where I’ll be. But before you hang up. Could you just answer my question?”
Betty stood in front of the window and looked down on the people walking below as she said to her best friend, “I’ll do whatever it takes to keep him. Okay?”
“’Bye, sweetie.”
Gathering her composure, Betty said, “Hello Mr. Renfro. How can I help you?”
“Yes, Robinson. I would like to discuss a few points with you on the case. Would you grab your files?”
Betty reached for the files in her bottom drawer as the case momentarily chased the thoughts of her love life from the forefront of her mind.
As Betty drove home with a box full of files to go through, she had a firm grasp on the case and felt that if the rumors were in fact true, she could not wait to give the summation. Stopping at a red light, she reached into her purse for her phone and dialed it without looking down. “Yes, this is Betty. Is Evander there? Thanks, I’ll hold.” As she held the phone to her ear she had no idea what she was going to say. But as he said hello the light turned green and she knew she had to say something. “So how are you?” she said in the driest tone she could muster.
“Fine. Beep, I’m sorry I didn’t get a chance to call you back last night. I kinda fell asleep. I had to be in here this morning at four.”
“Oh, that’s fine.” she droned. “So. How’s your mom doing?”
“My mom? Oh, my mom’s okay. Same old story. Jo running her crazy with those kids of hers and her sorry husband and also Shawn.”
“Evander? We really need to talk.”
“About . . .”
“About us.”
“What about us?”
Betty did not want to get emotional. This was not a card she was going to give him the benefit of seeing. But she needed answers. “Evander, things have changed. And I know you know what I’m talking about. We hardly touch each other anymore. We never talk like we used to. I mean if there is someone else, Vander, trust me, you can tell me,” she said with a smile in her voice and fear in her heart that he would do just that. “I’m a big girl. I can take it.”
“Betty . . . Betty, if the truth be known, there is no one else in my life. I know things have changed and I can see that we don’t act the same around each other either. I would be willing to say it’s all my fault. But half the time I would call you and we would discuss the doctors in your lawsuit or we would discuss what Collins said or Renfro did, and while I want to be a part of all of that, in all honesty, Beep, I miss what we were. What we had the weeks before you got this case. Seems we grew so much closer after Lopez, and as soon as you got the big case . . .”
“We started growing apart,” Betty whispered.
“Betty, there is no one else. I would never do that to you. My love has grown too deep and wide and I respect you too much to ever do that. You know, we have not really kissed since that day we were in your office? I mean, I always feel I am talking to the attorney and not the woman I fell in love with, and it’s scary, especially after what happened with Yolanda. Her career sorta broke us up. Don’t get me wrong, I know it’s a package deal and I do love to hear about what you are doing at the firm. But, Beep, I love you.”
“Evander, please don’t say that if it’s not true.”
“Aww, Beep. Baby, you know I love you. But I’m sorry. I fell in love with you, not the attorney. The you that can’t tell jokes to save your life. The you that always hides those stuffed animals under the bed when I come over. That’s the Betty I miss, and since this is going to be a trial that will last at least six months, I guess subconsciously I was preparing not to see her for a while.”
“Evander?”
“Yes?”
“I’m sorry. I know that’s not what you are asking from me, but I should have been more conscientious of your feelings. I just get so wrapped up in my work, and since I have never . . . well, since I have never loved a man like I love you, it’s hard for me to walk that tightrope sometimes. It seems the more of you you give, the more I need. Facing Amitrust or Midway is cake. Knowing how to love you . . . well, that’s the part that’s hard for me.”
“I know, baby. This is new to both of us.”
“Do me a favor? If you are ever feeling neglected again, please, just tell me? Okay?”
There was silence on the phone and then Evander said softly, “Thank you. And I love you too.”
After another long conversation with Evander on the phone at home, Betty worked on the case until the early morning. As the clock struck one, she closed the last file, and returned it to the box from which it had come, and went on-line to check her E-mail.
She had been corresponding with the gentleman she knew only by the moniker DLastRomeo for several weeks and was fascinated by the fact that he, unlike most men on-line, never asked her for her phone number or tried to flirt with her. He seemed to actually enjoy conversing, and if something was important to her, he acted interested in it. As she signed on, she heard the computer say, “You’ve got mail,” and a smile came to her face as she saw it was a letter from him.
Hello, DeltaDream:
Thanks for replying to my last letter so quickly. I just wanted to write to say it was refreshing to visit with you on-line. So often I notice that people have forgotten what a friend is as it relates to the opposite sex. I am glad to consider you a friend and it is my sincere hope that I can be a true friend to you as well.
Today was a tough day for me. As I may have mentioned. I own a financial planning firm. I closed a deal with this law firm and found out today they were exercising their right of recession. That’s when a company backs out of a contract.
Betty laughed for the first time in hours. He still doesn’t know I’m an attorney. How cute.
Well. they did not call me to tell me. They did not write me to tell me. They did it by fax at four-fifty on the tenth day. We were ten minutes from earning a substantial commission, and nine months of work went down the drain with a simple four-line faxed letter.
Unfortunately in this state when that occurs you don’t get a percentage or even a referral fee. You just get . . . well, I guess you catch my drift.
So today I called to talk to the senior partner and he would not come to the phone. He just had his secretary tell me the firm was not interested and that they expected their check for the initial deposit to be returned within thirty days. The senior partner is a trip. If I told you how far this idiot has advanced in this firm, you would never believe it.
“An idiot partner? Trust me, I can believe it,” Betty said aloud.
I called a few friends in my industry for advice and found out he took the plan we spent so much time working on to our comp
etitor. In fact, he told the other financial planner he wanted the exact same program I had presented to him. They drew it up for him in less than two hours and stole the commission we had worked so hard for over the past nine months.
I’m sorry to get so deep in this letter because I usually contact you to keep my mind off work, and I know I sound bitter. But to be honest, I have been consumed by this situation. These are things they don’t teach you in business school. Well, anyway . . .
I appreciate your prayers, and yes, I have gotten over the reading of the will. Yeah, it got to me, but I must move on. I guess it is not for me to know the whys of it at this point. I just trust that one day I will.
Thinking of you . . .
Until . . .
Drew
In spite of the tone, Drew’s letters always had a way of brightening her day. This day in particular she needed to hear from him. Betty wanted to reply immediately, but she knew if she did, she would go into detail over either her problems with Evander or her fears regarding the case, and neither was an issue she wanted to revisit. So she turned off her computer and desk lamp and went to bed.
Chapter 17
Friday
Drew walked through the door of his home to find the answering machine winking at him. It had been over two weeks since the reading of the will, and he had spent his non-working hours on the golf course to keep the demons at bay. Unfortunately, he saw little improvement in his golf swing, and the whys were never far from his thoughts.
The third message was from Zelma. He had given her his home phone number to stop the friction in the office surrounding her calls. The more they talked—although he knew he should not have personal conversations with her—the more he became intrigued by her. She was even more intelligent, more driven, and more opinionated than he’d initially realized. Her postgraduate studies had been at Oxford, and she spoke three languages fluently. Even though they spoke after hours, Drew built a wall in their conversation and never divulged much of his personal life. And then one Friday night, the first Friday night he had not visited Felicia’s graveside, he’d shared the intensity of his pain. He’d told Zelma how he’d felt blindsided by Felicia’s letter and that there was a part of him he felt could never fully trust again.
Sitting on his couch, Drew clicked on the television, muted the sound, then picked up the phone and called Zelma. “Hello,” he said when she answered, “What’s up?”
“Nothing much. I just got this damn satellite dish installed, and now instead of surfing through forty channels of shit I don’t wanna see, now I surf through two hundred and fifty. What are you up to?”
“Just got in. Had a couple of appointments cancel, so I took the sticks out and played a little golf,” Drew said as he looked at Felicia’s graduation portrait on the mantel over his fireplace.
“Good for you. You need to get out for some fresh air every now and then. We’ll have to play together sometime. Maybe I can teach you a thing or two.”
“Oh, it’s like that, huh?” Drew said with a smile.
“Seriously. I’m a scratch golfer, you know. I have to be to compete with these white boys. After taking their money, for some reason they always take me more seriously in the office. Funny how that works.”
“Umm.” Drew walked in his kitchen and popped the top of a beer.
“The only problem with my work is you never develop true friends. I mean they invite you to golf and drinks, but you can never really let your hair down and all. Ya know?”
“Yeah, that can cause a problem at times. I remember how it was for me when I was in corporate America. I think I’m in a good position now, though. We never really have that problem, for obvious reasons.”
“I always wondered why you just hired black women. Is that why? And why are they all so young?”
Returning to his couch and clicking off the TV, Drew said, “Well, Peggy’s in her midforties, but I was never really worried about that. I just wanted the most qualified people, and that’s what they were.”
“My ex-fiancé’s brother tried that. Hired three sisters and a brother in his paint company. It was just a small company and they robbed him blind.”
“So you were engaged? How long ago?”
Zelma’s normally assertive voice weakened as she said, “Last summer.”
“May I ask what happened?”
“No!” And then after a pause he heard a smile in her voice as she said, “Yeah, I guess I can tell you. Although I must admit, I really don’t like talking about it too much. To make a long story short, he and I met on a blind date. When I first saw him, I was not attracted to him at all. He was a little goofy sometimes. But he was nice and I had been in a relationship with this guy who was verbally abusive. Then from almost out of nowhere, I started having feelings for Vince—that was his name. Our relationship was the closest thing to magic I have ever experienced. In three months we were talking about a future together. Within six months I moved in with him. Within nine months he gave me a ring and we were planning a wedding, and then on my birthday we had this fight.” She paused and continued over a sigh, “I can’t believe I’m telling you this. But he put me out of the house . . . and it was raining that day. Well, I saw him about a month later and he was dating one of my friends who just happened to be white.”
“Damn.”
“Yeah, I know. It was messed up, and yeah, it stung a lot. Sometimes very smart women make very dumb decisions, and I made more than my share about men. But I will never make the same mistake again. You just try to get over it. Like the other night when you were talking about your girlfriend? Felicia? And I was telling you to stay strong? That’s where that was coming from.”
“Do you still love him? Deep inside?”
“I have feelings for him. He was my first mature love. I don’t wish him any harm or anything, but do I love him? No, I don’t. I mean, if he came back tomorrow, would I take him back? After what he did to me? Never.”
“Seems you have healed very well.”
“I don’t know about very well, but I’ve healed. Now you tell me. If by chance Felicia was here today, after all that had happened to you, would you take her back?”
Walking in his living room, Drew stood front and center before Felicia’s portrait and looked her in the eyes.
“The truth, Andrew. I know you The Man and all, but if you could, would you take her back?”
Holding the phone in place with his shoulder and folding his arms in slow motion, he said, “We didn’t have a fairytale romance. We had good times. We had a lot of good times actually. When I think back on the relationship and the time we spent together, I guess I loved her a lot more than I even would like to admit now. You know,” he said, staring into the eyes of the portrait, “when we first got together, I used to get up at six to get dressed for work. But whenever she slept over, I would get up at five-thirty, just so I could watch her sleep.” It was the first time Drew had ever told that to anyone, and for a moment he regretted doing so. But there was something about saying the words that was cleansing. “Was our relationship magical? I don’t think so, especially when you look at the last couple of years. Often, even before she was diagnosed, she would get jealous and accuse me of doing things. We would fight about the time I devoted to the relationship. I know I loved her. And in spite of the problems we had, she should not have done me the way she did.” Drew reached for the portrait on the mantel, wiped off the glass, and then walked toward the hall closet, where he placed the picture on the top shelf and closed the door. “So to answer your question? No. No, if I knew what I know now, I would not take her back.”
“Did someone come over?”
“No. Why you ask?”
“Just sounded like I heard a door close.”
With a smile Drew said, “You did. In more ways than one, love. Tell me something? I have an idea that might be good for both of us. What if we go on a date. Not the kinda date where a kiss is expected or anything like that. Just two friends. Just a get-
out-and-get-over-our-past kinda date.”
With a smile in her voice Zelma said, “I think that would be nice. Why don’t we go to see the Philharmonic. I think I could get us a couple of fantastic—”
“Wait a minute,” Drew said, looking at his fireplace. “I’ll plan this.”
“Oh my goodness.”
“Oh my goodness what?”
“Just the way you said that. We ain’t going hunting or fishing or something southern, are we? I know how you southern boys are.”
“Damn, you tried me that time.”
“So how should I dress?”
“Very casual. As in shorts and sneakers.”
“You have got to be kidding me. I haven’t worn sneakers on a date since I was sixteen. And that was only because my momma made me.”
“I kid you not. And I will pick you up tomorrow around noon. We’ll make it an all-day thing. Okay?”
“That’s no good.”
“Why not?”
“You must not know many professional black women, Andrew. If you did, you’d know that Saturday is National Get Your Hair Done day. That’s out.”
“Do it earlier.”
“You’re serious, aren’t you?”
“I’ll meet you at your house tomorrow at four. What’s the address?”
“Andrew Staley, if I have to reschedule my hair appointment for youuuu, believe me, this date better be the bomb.”
As he drove up her driveway, Drew took a deep breath and looked in the mirror. While he had made the phone calls to arrange everything for their date, he had debated with himself about following through with this, but as she opened the door he knew he was doing the right thing. Her smile was different as she walked outside and the sun beamed on her chocolate brown skin. Although her hair was tied up in a wrap and she wore khaki shorts with a Karl Kani T-shirt and hiking boots, it was her smile that was the biggest difference in Zelma McGrady. It was not the smile of a senior comptroller. It was a smile that said, Thank you for being a friend.
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