He crossed the foyer silently, and she grabbed the banister to catch her breath as he walked out and shut the door behind him. She straightened her shoulders, pulled herself erect, and willed her breathing to slow down. One, two, three, she counted to herself.
Twenty minutes later, she realized that the sky had gone dark and that she was still gripping the banister so tightly her fingers ached.
Chapter 7
I think you’re making a terrible mistake taking Otis back, Valerie,” Beverly said as they sat on the covered patio having lunch together on Monday afternoon at Phillips seafood restaurant on the Baltimore Harbor. Valerie had delivered the news to Beverly over the phone the previous night. After giving it a lot of thought she was going to give Otis another chance. Beverly couldn’t believe what she was hearing, but she had resisted the urge to call her best friend stupid, dumb, an idiot, and a whole lot more. Instead, she insisted that they meet face-to-face during their lunch breaks the following day.
Beverly had decided to drive to the restaurant, even though it was only a mile from her office at the Baltimore Sun to the harbor. Parking at the harbor wasn’t a huge problem as long as you were prepared to pay to park in a lot. And driving would allow her more time to stay at the office and continue editing the feature article she was working on about the musicians who would be appearing at the Merriweather Post Pavilion in Columbia, Maryland, for this summer’s concert series. Editing the annual feature about the concert was one of Beverly’s favorites tasks at the Sun. The series always attracted some of the biggest names in music, such as Roberta Flack, Jill Scott, Sheryl Crow, and Duran Duran, and this year would be no exception.
“You don’t need to act desperate,” Beverly added after the waitress placed a bowl of steamed littleneck clams in front of her and a plate of crispy calamari in front of Valerie. Valerie was wearing a white cotton short-sleeved shirt, and Beverly could detect the faint outline of a bruise on her friend’s upper arm where she had hit the wall when Otis shoved her. Valerie was light-complexioned, and Beverly could tell that the bruise had looked much worse when it first happened. It was appalling to think of her friend being hurt by the man in her life.
“I’m not acting,” Valerie said. “I’m forty-one years old and I’ve been single for more than twenty years. I am desperate.” Valerie had gotten pregnant and married—in that order—right out of high school, so she postponed college for a couple of years. By the time Valerie and Beverly met at Hampton University, Valerie was divorced and living in Newport News, Virginia, with her parents, who were helping her raise her baby daughter, Olivia. Although Valerie had done a good job with Olivia, who had graduated from college and gotten married herself about a year ago, life as a single mom hadn’t left Valerie with much time for a social life of her own. And a part of her resented that.
Valerie took a generous sip from her beer. “I’m so tired of being alone I don’t know what to do, and I ain’t ashamed to admit it.”
“I don’t get it,” Beverly said. “You have a lot to offer.” Even if her friend was a little kooky and dressed like a hippie, with long flowery skirts and cotton blouses, she had recently dyed her hair a striking jet black. She had a nice job as an artist at a graphic design firm. “You’re attractive. You’re artsy. You’re fun to be with. I could go on and on. You don’t have to settle for some asshole who smacks you around like this.” Beverly gestured toward the bruise on Valerie’s arm.
“How many times do I have to tell you that he did not hit me? Otis never hits me.” Valerie flicked her wrist as if to brush the bruise aside. “This is nothing. It’s almost gone. And I know he didn’t mean it. He just got a little emotional. I was needling him, so in a way it’s my—”
“Hey,” Beverly said, snapping her fingers in Valerie’s face. “Cut the bull. This is me. He shoved you and you fell. Your arm is black and blue. That’s violence, in my book.”
Valerie slapped Beverly’s hand out of her face. “He didn’t really hurt me. And he apologized yesterday.”
“If he didn’t do anything wrong, what’s he apologizing for? Huh? You’re making excuses, girlfriend, and you know it. Even before this happened, I didn’t think Otis was right for you.”
“Aha, now we get down to the real deal. You just don’t like him. Well, why not? He’s always been nice to you. He has a good job as a programmer.”
“So what? A lot of men have good jobs,” Beverly countered. “That doesn’t automatically mean that they’re good men.”
“Oh? Where are all these gainfully employed men hiding, Bev? Please share. ’Cause I’m having a real hard time finding ’em. That’s why when I get one, I want to hold on.”
“I admit it’s not easy to find them. I never said it was easy. But they’re out there. I got one.”
“Yeah, thanks to me.”
Beverly frowned. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“I’m the one who introduced you two. Or did you manage to forget that?”
Beverly nodded, surprised at the bitter tone in her friend’s voice. She was only trying to help. “No, of course I remember.”
“You’re one of the lucky few, Bev. You got yourself someone who looks good, works good, and is good. And I admit, I’m jealous at times.”
“Don’t be, Valerie. Just find yourself someone who looks good, works good, and is good. Otis always struck me as the chauvinistic type. You know, cocky, arrogant, condescending. The ‘you’re my woman, you better behave yourself’ type.”
“He’s forty-eight years old and he can be a little hot-tempered and old-fashioned at times,” Valerie said. “But he’s really sweet to me when he wants to be.”
“So was O. J. Simpson to Nicole, no doubt.”
“Ouch! That’s not fair. Otis is working on his temper.”
Beverly scoffed.
“And our charts are beautifully aligned, you know. Our moons are really compatible. There are a few problem areas, mainly with Venus, but at least I know about them and I can deal with them. I can make this work, Bev, trust me. I just need to be patient with him.” Valerie leaned in close to Beverly. “And did I ever mention that he’s hot as hell in bed?”
“Only about a hundred thousand times since you met him.”
Valerie giggled. “I can’t help it. There’s something about a dark-complexioned brother with a shaved head that gets me going. I cannot lie. I get wet just thinking about him going down.”
“Valerie, please. I’m trying to eat here.”
Valerie laughed and put her finger to her lip. “Okay, I’ll shut up.” She picked up her beer glass and drained it.
It upset Beverly to realize that her best friend was so blind to this dude. Beverly was convinced that he was bad news, a poster child for dangerous men who mess up women. “I just don’t understand why all it takes is a little sweet talk and some good loving from a brother to turn us into pitiful pushovers.”
Maybe she had become too self-righteous now that she had a good man, Beverly thought. She could definitely remember when she wasn’t much more clear-eyed or levelheaded about men herself. Still, she wanted so much more for her best friend than what her friend seemed willing to settle for. Beverly shook her head with sadness.
Valerie reached across the table and patted Beverly’s hand. “I know you have my best interests at heart. But you don’t have to worry about me. I can take care of myself. I told Otis that if he touches me in anger one more time, that’s it. I’ll find me somebody else.”
Beverly smiled thinly. “I hope you really mean that. I don’t want it to come to that, but if it does and you don’t walk away, I’m going to kick your ass myself.”
“Deal.” They slapped a high five across the table. “How is Julian these days? I haven’t talked to him since he left last month to take that new job at the video game design firm out there near Baltimore.”
Beverly smiled broadly for the first time that afternoon. “He’s good. He loves it there. We’re good. What can I say?”
&n
bsp; “Say a little prayer of thanks that your best friend introduced you to him. The brother is one in a thousand—heck, one in a million.”
“Amen. We definitely agree on that much.”
“So he makes video games now?”
Beverly nodded. “He animates the scenes and characters in the games.”
“Sounds exciting.”
“He works his butt off, but he’s happy there. And when a man is happy he makes his woman happy.”
“You Jordan women definitely got it going on in the man department,” Valerie said. “You and Julian, Evelyn and Kevin. It even looks like Charmaine finally got her act together too.”
“Tyrone seems good for Charmaine,” Beverly said. “I’m so happy for her. It took her a while to get it right, but she did. And it might take you some time, but you will if you don’t…”
Valerie held her hand up and Beverly paused. “Hey, knock it off, okay?” Valerie said. “I’m perfectly happy with the man I’ve got, thank you.”
Beverly made a motion and zipped her lips shut. “Fine.” She wasn’t going to push anymore. But obviously it didn’t take much to make Valerie happy, Beverly thought sadly, if she was content with Otis. Still, she would keep those thoughts to herself for now. Valerie had made up her mind, and no amount of talk was going to change it.
That didn’t mean that Beverly had given up trying to talk some sense into her best friend. She wouldn’t give up until she thought Valerie was safe. She would just wait for a better moment to bring it up again.
For now Beverly wanted to enjoy a fine seafood lunch and chat about pleasant things until it was time to head back to the office. They had a glorious view of the boats in the Baltimore Harbor on a sunny afternoon, and Beverly couldn’t wait to sink her teeth into one of Maryland’s famous crab cakes.
“Have you been able to get over to the bridal salon for your fitting?” Beverly asked as the waiter placed their entrees on the table.
“I called and set something up for this evening as soon as I get off work.” Valerie signaled the waitress and ordered another beer.
“When did you start all this drinking?” Beverly asked after the waitress walked off.
“It’s just beer.”
“I’ve never seen you drink more than one at lunch.”
“So? I’m having two now. What’s the big deal?”
“Are you driving back to the office or walking?”
Valerie waved her hand. “Oh, brother. I’m driving, but I’ll be fine.”
Beverly knew that this was Otis’s doing. Valerie hardly touched liquor before she met him. But Otis was a regular beer drinker, and now Valerie was drinking more and more of it. Not that there was anything wrong with that, she supposed, if you didn’t overdo it. “I guess you know what you’re doing.”
The waitress placed the beer in front of Valerie. “Of course I do. Now, how are Evelyn and Kevin doing?”
“They’re good.”
“They seem to have a fabulous relationship,” Valerie said. “They’re about the only couple I know that hasn’t ended up in divorce court. In fact, now that I think about it, they may be the only couple that has stayed married for so long, at least that I can think of. They’re definitely the only couple I know with both people still in their first marriages.”
“I admit they’re my ideal,” Beverly said, nodding. “They give me hope that marriage can work.”
“Any idea what their secret is?”
Beverly shrugged. “You hear all these theories about successful married couples, but it’s got to be much harder than it looks, since so few manage to stay together. And even more black than white married couples end up in divorce. Did you know that?”
Valerie frowned with surprise. “No, although it’s not hard to believe.”
“Evelyn is like a rare species when it comes to marriage,” Beverly said.
“Kevin seems like a doll and that always helps,” Valerie said. “I’ve only been around him a few times at your family’s gettogethers, and he’s always so sweet. You ever ask Evelyn why she thinks they’ve survived all these years?”
“Not really. Maybe I should.”
“I’m sure that having a man who is willing to work with you is important,” Valerie said. “Kevin seems like he’d be good at that. Julian too.”
“No doubt that’s important.” Beverly gave her friend a ‘Why don’t you follow your own advice?’ look.
“What?” Valerie asked innocently when she realized what Beverly’s look meant. “I told you, Otis and I are fine. He’s going to work on his temper, and we’re gonna live happily ever after. You’ll see.”
“I hope you’re right,” Beverly said. But I doubt it, she thought wryly as she bit into her crab cake sandwich.
Chapter 8
As Evelyn listened to Cathy, one of her longstanding clients, talk about her man problems, she realized that she had made a huge mistake. And in her mind’s eye, she could see herself smacking her own forehead. Bam! She had completely forgotten to get back to the caterer she hired for Beverly’s surprise bridal shower. The affair was Saturday after next, little more than a week from today, a Wednesday. Everyone would be there—her mom and sisters, Beverly’s friends and coworkers—and she really needed to finalize the menu. It was funny when and how these things hit.
Cathy’s husband had walked out on her some five years earlier, after nearly twenty-five years of marriage, and Cathy had sunk into a deep depression and stayed there for several years. She had started dating again only a few months earlier and now viewed every man she met as possible future husband material. Instead of relaxing, having fun, and trying to get to know a man on the first few dates, Cathy was attempting to figure out if he would make a good spouse.
She was doing it right now with Ted, a man she met a few weeks earlier and had gone out with only twice. Evelyn was trying to persuade Cathy to enjoy the freedom to explore and meet new people that the end of a relationship often ushered in, without obsessing about remarrying. She reminded Cathy that she wasn’t planning to have any more children now that she was well into her forties. And that she had been through a wedding once—the dress fittings, florists, caterers, bridal showers, and all that stuff. She didn’t need those things again.
That was when Evelyn remembered that she had completely forgotten to call the caterer back for Beverly’s bridal shower. When Evelyn had offered to host the surprise shower, her life wasn’t in complete disarray as it was at this point, with Kevin leaving this past weekend. Thank God she had hired a caterer instead of planning to prepare all the food herself. That would have been more than she could have handled, given her current mental state.
She grabbed the notepad she kept on a small glass table next to her armchair and discreetly jotted a note to herself: Call caterer—urgent. Then she listened as Cathy, wearing a floral print sundress and seated on a small couch across from Evelyn, talked about wanting the security and comfort that comes from knowing that someone will always be there for you.
“I miss so much about being married,” Cathy said. She was twisting a lock of her shoulder-length blond hair, a habit she had whenever she felt anxious. “Like having someone I can tap on the shoulder when I’m feeling horny.” Cathy chuckled. “Someone I know is attracted to me and free of diseases too, by the way. And yes, women in their late forties get horny.”
There was a time when Cathy’s blunt sense of humor would have made Evelyn laugh herself. But not now. Not today. Given what she was now going through in her own marriage, all she could manage was a weak smile. It felt familiar and yet so strange to talk about divorce with a client, now that she and Kevin were separated and her own future was so precarious. A part of Evelyn wondered if she would begin to view divorce differently now.
“You don’t have to tell me that women in their forties have those feelings,” Evelyn said, thinking with dismay about the many months that had passed by since Kevin had touched her intimately. She quickly shook the personal longing from h
er head and focused on her client. “We’re about the same age, you know.”
Cathy’s pretty blue eyes brightened. “Really? I always thought you were in your early forties at the most. You look so young.” Cathy laughed good-naturedly. “It’s not fair. You-all age so beautifully.”
Evelyn smiled. “I’m not surprised that you have these feelings. You’re still a healthy woman. And being around a man whom you find attractive is reawakening the feelings within you.”
Cathy nodded eagerly.
“But do you feel that you need to be in a marriage to deal with them?” Evelyn asked.
“Not really. I’m not that old.” Cathy laughed again, and this time Evelyn joined her. “I could get it on with a man without marriage,” Cathy continued. “I guess what I really miss is having someone I know will be around to the end, at least until one of us croaks. For that, you need marriage or something close.”
Evelyn nodded with understanding. “You’re talking about lifelong companionship or a partner who is always ready to share intimacy or whatever else whenever you are. Can you be sure you’ll have that with marriage?”
Cathy frowned with thought and the wrinkles around her eyes deepened. “Obviously, I didn’t have those things toward the end of my marriage, even though I didn’t realize it at first.” She shrugged. “That doesn’t mean I couldn’t have them with someone else in the future.”
“Sounds like you think marriage would be different the second time around.”
“Maybe. Well, yes, I do.”
“Why would it be different?”
“I could meet a better man. Someone who wants a lifelong commitment just as I do.”
Evelyn nodded again.
“Not that my first husband didn’t want those things in the beginning,” Cathy continued. “I’m sure he did. I know he did. At least I think he did.” Cathy sighed. “But he changed, you know? We both did. People change all the time, I guess, and I have no way of knowing if this man I’m seeing now would change on me. Or anyone else I might meet, for that matter. At least I’m older and wiser now, as well as the men I meet, so we should be smarter about these things.” Cathy paused, and Evelyn waited, as she could see from Cathy’s expression that she was turning things over in her head. One of the tricks Evelyn had learned as a therapist was that sometimes the best thing you could do was wait and see where the client was going.
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