“Whatever.” Derrick waved her off. “You still need to change that dress.”
Derrick watched Staci from the doorway as she cut flowers over the sink. No woman could wear a pair of jeans like his wife. His missed her so much, he wanted to wrap his arms around her and never let her go. Right before she stooped to pull the step stool from the utility closet, he walked up behind her and retrieved the vase for her.
“Thank you,” she said, without making eye contact. She went on cutting the stems as if he wasn’t there.
She smelled so good; like a ripe Georgia peach thanks to her favorite body cream. He wanted to hold her, kiss her, and . . .
“How have you been?” he asked.
“Fine.”
Her short answers were tearing him apart. His eyes roamed her body and focused on the exposed part of her neck. He smiled slightly, remembering the first time he tasted its nectar. The smile disappeared when his eyes traveled to her left hand.
“Staci, why aren’t you wearing your wedding ring?”
This time she made eye contact, and he wished she hadn’t. “Why should I wear a wedding ring when I don’t have a husband?” She shrugged, then continued with her task.
Derrick would have preferred for her to have stabbed him with the scissors than make that statement.
“Staci, don’t say that.”
“It’s the truth. You have never been a husband to me.” She smirked, “At best, you were a bad roommate.”
“How can you say that?”
Staci ignored the hurt she heard in his voice. “Derrick, I didn’t come here to discuss your inability to be a man. I’m only here to celebrate your mother’s birthday.” Her voice dripped with sugar. “If you would like to discuss anything else, call me on Wednesday. That’s the day I deal with foolishness.”
He watched her leave the room and wondered, who was that woman? That was not his Staci. She sounded like her, even walked like her, but that person wasn’t his wife. This woman was angry and bitter. “What happened to my wife?” he asked the question audibly.
All day he watched Staci interact with everyone but him. Whenever he started in her direction, she went the other way. She held conversations with his uncles, aunts, even the neighbors, but said nothing to him. She danced with his uncles, but wouldn’t even shake Derrick’s hand. Everyone noticed the distance between them. Nearly all of his relatives questioned him about why they weren’t together anymore.
“Dental school suctioned all of your common sense. How could you leave that woman?” his uncle Jimmy asked. Like always, Derrick didn’t have an answer.
When the time came for Miss Cora to cut her birthday cake, Staci helped her position herself at the table. Miss Cora was so weak; Keisha had to help her hold the knife.
Derrick accepted for certain that his mother wouldn’t be around much longer. He and Staci locked eyes, and her eyes misted when she saw the sullen expression on his face. She looked as if she wanted to reach out to him and would have if Miss Cora hadn’t touched her hand. Miss Cora turned and beckoned for Derrick to come stand next to Staci, but his emotions overwhelmed him and he left the room. Staci excused herself and practically ran into the bathroom.
Outside on the porch, Derrick couldn’t contain himself. It was more than seeing his mother so frail. For the first time, he realized his need for space had cost him his wife—permanently. He’d known his mother was dying, but he didn’t know the love Staci had for him had already died. Every look she afforded him was one of anger and contempt. How could nearly eight years be gone so quickly?
“You rejected her.”
As hard as he tried, Derrick couldn’t ignore the soft still voice any longer. “That’s not what I meant to do,” he replied audibly.
“You haven’t talked to her; you’ve completely shut her out of your life. Now she’s shutting you out of hers.”
“I’m not shutting her out. I just need some time to figure things out.”
“You’ve had three months, and nothing has changed. You’re not talking to me, and you’re not talking to her. You’re still sitting around feeling sorry for yourself. You haven’t been honest with yourself, and you haven’t been honest with me.” The voice grew more forceful. “You’ve rejected me, telling me I didn’t know what I was doing when I created you. You’ve insulted me by looking for approval and validation from men instead of allowing my love for you to become your validation.”
Derrick couldn’t stand the tongue-lashing anymore. He jumped into his SUV and sped off.
Inside the bathroom, Staci turned on the faucet to hide the sound of her sobs. Seeing Derrick today was harder than she’d thought. The entire day had been like a roller-coaster ride with all the twists, turns, and dips she felt inside of her. When she first saw him, she wanted to run to him, to touch him. But he didn’t move, so she put up a guarded front. Even in the kitchen she waited for him so say something, anything that would let her know that he still cared, but he didn’t. All he cared about was her wedding ring. She thought back to what Malcolm had said earlier about not allowing Derrick to use her as a trophy in front of his family. Witnessing him walk away from her once again was the breaking point.
“God, please show me how to stop loving him. I don’t want to love him anymore.” She said the prayer, but knew chances were God wasn’t listening to her since she hadn’t prayed or read her Bible much since meeting Malcolm.
She dried her face and unclipped her cell to phone Malcolm. Without saying a word, he listened to her tell him about Derrick’s behavior and how now she was ready to divorce him.
“What are you doing tonight?” Malcolm asked.
“Go home!”
Staci blocked out the voice. “Nothing. What do you want to do?”
“Why don’t you stop by here? I’ll make you dinner.”
She’d never been to his loft, but he’d bragged constantly about what a great cook he was. “I’m not hungry. I just want to enjoy a quiet evening alone.”
“We can have that here. I have an extensive collection of DVDs and digital cable.”
Staci placed a hand over her ear in an effort to quiet her conscience. “I’ll be there in forty-five minutes.” She committed the loft address to memory. “Shall I bring anything?” she asked, before hanging up.
“Just yourself,” he answered sheepishly. “And an open mind.”
Before leaving, Staci sat with Miss Cora for a few minutes. For some reason, she felt this might be her last time seeing her alive.
“I hope you had a good birthday, Miss Cora.”
Miss Cora sighed. “Every day I wake up is a good day, but I was hoping this day would have been better. I don’t know why my son left like that.”
Staci hunched her shoulders, but didn’t say anything. She didn’t know what to say.
“I wish I could be around for your twentieth wedding anniversary. I might ask the good Lord to send me back, just so I can say, ‘I told you so.’”
Staci didn’t have the heart to tell her mother-in-law that she and Derrick weren’t going to have a second anniversary, let alone a twentieth.
“Miss Cora, if we make it to twenty, I’ll ask the Lord to send you back.” Staci laughed, but Miss Cora remained serious.
“I’m not going to physically see it then, but I can see it now.”
Staci secretly wished she could see half as well as Miss Cora, but right now, her vision was clouded with anger and blurred by hurt.
Staci hugged her again. “I love you, Miss Cora.”
“Staci,” Miss Cora called before she opened the door to leave, “don’t forget what I told you about making him beg.”
Chapter 21
Derrick had barely made it inside the studio apartment above the dental office before he fell to his knees. He didn’t even turn the lights on. How he made it home, he didn’t know. He did remember nearly hitting at least two pedestrians as he drove like a maniac down International Boulevard. He couldn’t get rid of the still voice that kept a
sking him questions he couldn’t answer.
“Why are you running from me? We used to have sweet fellowship. What happened?”
Heavy tears rolled down Derrick’s cheeks and met at his chin. He accepted the fact that he couldn’t fix things on his own. He needed God back in his life. Beyond his need for Staci, he needed God.
“Why do you refuse to accept yourself for the awesome individual I made you? Why don’t you love me enough to let me be your father? I made you. Why can’t you trust that I know what’s best for you?”
“Because I don’t like who I am. I don’t like myself. I don’t like not having a father.” Derrick finally answered the voice honestly, between sobs that shook his body.
“I know the thoughts I have toward you, Derrick. Thoughts of peace and not evil, to give you an expected end. I gave you everything you needed to be a secure man, but you gave it back to me and went after man’s approval.”
Derrick’s face fell to the floor and before he knew it, he was lying prostrate with his arms stretched out.
“Derrick, my son, you are fearfully and wonderfully made. Before I formed you in your mother’s womb, I knew you. I didn’t make a mistake in selecting your parents, and I didn’t make a mistake in creating you. I am God! I don’t make mistakes.”
As he lay there, Derrick felt God’s love covering him with the warmth of an electric blanket, something he hadn’t allowed himself to feel in a very long time.
“Come back to me, my son. Come back.”
Chapter 22
Staci blasted the satellite radio in her Benz on her way over to Malcolm’s loft. It wasn’t that she enjoyed the music so much; she was trying to drown out her conscience. It wasn’t safe for her to be with Malcolm right now, and she knew it. “What could be wrong with watching a movie?” she asked audibly. She knew what was wrong. The same thing that was wrong when she and Derrick had done it a few years ago. The quiet evening turned into breakfast in bed and lunch in the afternoon. “I don’t have anything to worry about, because I’m not attracted to Malcolm.” As the words left her mouth, doubts surfaced. She may not have been attracted to Malcolm, but she craved the pleasure he offered.
The elevator ride to Malcolm’s third-floor loft felt like an eternity. She thought it was ironic that the song playing in the elevator was Marvin Gaye’s “Let’s Get It On.” She only had to knock once before Malcolm opened the door.
“Good evening, beautiful.”
Malcolm’s sensual smile confirmed her earlier doubts. He was wearing what appeared to be silk pajamas. The warm vanilla aroma engulfed her the second she stepped inside the unit. Malcolm had scented candles all around and soft music playing through the surround sound stereo system.
“It smells heavenly in here. How did you know I like vanilla?”
“You told me, remember?” he answered.
“I also told you I wanted a quiet evening, not a romantic interlude.”
“Staci, relax. I’m just creating a cozy atmosphere so you can get today’s events off your mind.” Malcolm reached for her hand, and she allowed him to lead her to the bar, where he had champagne chilling.
“Malcolm, you know I don’t drink alcohol.” Once again, she glimpsed his outfit. “Why are you wearing pajamas?”
“Staci, stop worrying. The champagne is nonalcoholic, and this is what I wear when I’m lounging around.”
“Just as long as you understand nothing is going to happen between us tonight,” she said, before accepting the drink.
“Of course, Staci. Nothing will happen here tonight that you don’t want to happen.”
“Good.”
Staci took a sip of champagne and walked around the loft. The floor plan was similar to the ones she and Derrick owned. It was a simple place, decorated typically the way a single man would decorate. The furniture was nice, but it was simple in design. Probably something he’d picked out from IKEA. Most of the walls were bare, but the hardwood floors were gorgeous. Staci, too engrossed in the self-tour, didn’t notice Malcolm wasn’t drinking with her.
She closed her eyes and started swaying to the music. Malcolm stood back and watched her succumb to the atmosphere. “You’re beautiful and too sexy for your own good.” He extended his hand to her after she finished her drink. “Dance with me, Staci.” When she hesitated, he pleaded. “Come on, I won’t bite.”
Staci was so relaxed by now she didn’t care if he did bite. The music, the warm vanilla scent, the glow of the candles—all had an intoxicating effect on her. She accepted his hand and in no time they were slow dancing to Boyz II Men’s “I’ll Make Love to You.”
Staci closed her eyes and rested her head on Malcolm’s shoulder. Flowing to the music she thought of Derrick. He was the only man she’d danced this close to before. The more friction they created, the more she thought of Derrick.
Malcolm stroked her back. Starting at the top and working his way down lower, lower, until he was griping her and pressing her body against his.
She moaned and imagined Malcolm’s touch felt like Derrick’s touch. She inhaled his scent and willed Malcolm to smell like her husband. Staci let her hands run across Malcolm’s shoulders and down his arms. She gasped. Malcolm was nowhere near the size of Derrick, but at that moment, in her mind, his body felt like Derrick’s.
“Beautiful, Staci,” he whispered when he kissed the side of her face.
The illusory game worked too well. Derrick loved to call her, his “beautiful Stacelyn.” She felt light-headed as fantasy and reality collided. She knew she was with Malcolm, but he felt so much like Derrick she wanted to be with him in the most intimate way.
Malcolm whispered the words to the song in her ear. “I’ll make love to you like you want me to.”
He even sounded like Derrick. She wouldn’t open her eyes for fear he would look like her husband. She tried to break the embrace, but she was too weak. Suddenly, the day’s events drained her physically.
“Der—I mean, Malcolm, please stop.” Her voice sounded as if it came from someplace far away.
“Staci, you know you want this. You need this.” He moaned and trailed kisses along her neck.
Staci couldn’t protest. She did want this, but not with him. She tried pulling away, but he strengthened his grip. She knew if she didn’t leave soon, she would end up in bed, or worse, on the couch with him. At the moment, the hardwood floor was a viable option. She had to get away from him, but somehow didn’t have the strength.
God, forgive me for not going home, she prayed inwardly. Somehow in the grogginess that enveloped her, it made sense for her to pray. She couldn’t do anything else while Malcolm continued grinding against her and exploring her neck with his tongue and lips.
God, please help me get out of this. Somehow in her sedated state, she remembered a scripture. “God is our refuge and strength, a very present help in trouble.”
“I’m in trouble, Lord. Please send help now,” she whispered the prayer.
Malcolm unfastened the first button on her blouse, then jumped back. The vibration from her cell phone startled him, but it made Staci perk up. With record speed, she unclipped her phone from her waist and answered it before Malcolm could protest.
“Hello,” she almost screamed into the phone.
“Baby girl, how are you? You’ve been on my mind all evening. Just thought I would give you a call. I hope I’m not interrupting anything.”
Staci vigorously shook her head as to clear it. Once again, her daddy was her hero. She stepped away from Malcolm.
“Daddy, your timing is perfect. Thank you so much for calling me.” She fastened her button and quickly retrieved her purse. She still felt groggy, but she had to get out of there now.
“Baby girl, are you sure you’re okay? You sound funny.”
“Staci, wait!” Malcolm called when she opened his front door, but she continued on.
Once outside the unit, she answered her father. “Daddy, this phone call kept me from making a major mistake.”
The elevator opened just as Malcolm stepped outside into the hallway. Staci shook her head at him and stepped inside the elevator.
“I’m somewhere I shouldn’t be,” she answered her father while looking at Malcolm. She was very fatigued, so she couldn’t be sure, but she thought she saw fire in his eyes.
When she reached her car, she didn’t think it was safe for her to be driving. She was too sleepy, but she refused to stay there. “Daddy, can you talk to me until I make it home? I’m very tired.”
“Sure, but you’d better stop tempting the grace of God.”
“Don’t I know it.”
Chapter 23
Derrick sat on the floor at the foot of the bed with his opened Bible in his hand. He’d been down there for hours. He cried a lot, releasing the feelings of hurt and insecurity he had buried deep inside of him. Then he listened to God comforting him and encouraging him. He prayed too. He prayed for courage, stability, and acceptance. Not from people, but for him to accept his life as it is. For him to stop trying to conform himself to what he thought he should be and accept what God had made him. Then he prayed for forgiveness.
“Father, have mercy on me; for I acknowledge my transgression and my sin is ever before me. I have not been honest with my wife. I have tried to build our marriage on deception in order to cover up my own shortcomings. I know you desire truth in the inward parts. Wash me thoroughly from my iniquity and create in me a clean heart. Restore unto me the joy of my salvation. Help me to take responsibility for my actions and grant me the grace to handle the consequences. Amen.”
By 7:00 A.M.Derrick was dressed and ready for church. He hadn’t slept all night, but he wasn’t tired. Even if he was, it didn’t matter. He was going to church today, and he wasn’t going to hide in the balcony. Some kind of way, he would get through the pending loss of his mother and find his way back home to Staci, but first, he needed to rededicate his life to God. That’s the only thing that mattered to him. Everything and everyone else was secondary, including Staci. His experience last night showed him the reason his life started spiraling downward was because he left his first love.
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