I stood so I could take a few items that needed typing out to Karla, but Jim entered my office before I made it to the doorway.
“So how’s everything going?” he asked.
I wondered if I would actually be arrested if I caused him bodily harm.
“Okay” was all I could force between my lips.
“I understand you weren’t feeling too well yesterday?”
“No, I wasn’t. But I’m better now.”
I could feel my heart racing like a roller coaster.
“So are things going okay with Karla, Jamie and Mary?” he asked.
“I couldn’t ask for better employees. Each of them is a very hard worker, and they’ve helped make my transition to this area a whole lot easier than it could have been.”
“Glad to hear it,” he said, folding his arms. “Well, I just wanted to stop by to see if you needed anything or had any questions.”
What I needed was for him to drop dead. But I regretted thinking in such a harsh manner.
“So far I don’t have any major questions. I have a couple of things I may need to ask you about early next week, but nothing crucial.”
“Well, my door is always open, and I hope you will come talk to me whenever you need to,” he said.
I nodded in agreement, but I wanted him out of my office.
“I’m glad we were finally able to get you into management, because you really do deserve it,” he said. “Oh, and Lyle wanted me to tell you that he’s extremely proud of you, and that he’ll be stopping by later to see how you’re doing.”
I feigned a smile, he did the same and I exhaled deeply when he left.
My hatred toward Jim was stronger than I thought, and I didn’t like it. It wasn’t healthy to have these sorts of feelings, and the level of anger he caused me was frightening. I didn’t think I was capable of hurting him physically, but for the first time, I realized just how much all of this was affecting me. I didn’t want to believe that one man could cause so much unrest inside me, but Jim had proven exactly that. This whole incident was taking its toll on me, and I wanted it to be over with. I wanted to take care of this once and for all and get on with my life. I wanted the same thing every other human being aimed toward: living a comfortable life and being happy. I didn’t want to be rich, but I wanted a fulfilling career. I didn’t want a perfect relationship, but I wanted to know what it was like to love my husband unconditionally and have him feel the same way in return. I didn’t think I was asking too much. Although I had to admit that I was partly responsible for the flaws in my marriage. I had to admit that my strong determination and ultimate focus on having a career hadn’t helped the situation. I had to admit that my priorities weren’t completely centered around David. But when I thought of Monica and her husband, I knew that being happily married really was possible. Although maybe I was still searching for something I was never going to discover. Maybe true happiness really didn’t exist, and all a person could strive for was something average. Maybe all I could expect was to be happy every now and then.
But this was an extremely sad thought, and I refused to buy into it until someone proved that mediocrity was the most I could hope for.
CHAPTER 17
PARKING WAS SCARCE when I arrived at the truck stop, but I eventually found a stall after circling the parking lot a few times. I hadn’t noticed so many cars when I’d come here before, but maybe it was the time of evening that made the difference.
We were having another ninety-degree day, so I sat with the air conditioner running and waited for Frank to show up. It was only twenty minutes till six, so he still had a few more minutes to arrive. I leaned back in my seat and relaxed. The afternoon had been rather busy, but I’d cleared my desk and walked out of the building right at five like I’d told him. There was a time when I never thought twice about working late, but I decided I wasn’t doing that anymore unless it couldn’t be helped.
V103 was playing one of Anita Baker’s old cuts, “Caught Up in the Rapture,” and I hummed along with her. She was still one of my favorite singers, and I lived for the day when she released a new CD. She’d decided some time ago to take a break from entertainment so she could spend quality time with her husband and children, but I didn’t blame her. A small part of me still wondered if maybe I’d given up my own career, David and I would have turned out differently. But who was to say, one way or the other?
I sat five more minutes, and smiled when I heard Whitney singing “My Love Is Your Love,” because she was both mine and Mom’s favorite female singer of all time. Monica and I would sometimes laugh at Mom because she’d played that cassette with Whitney singing the national anthem at the 1991 Super Bowl every single time she drove her yellow Cadillac. As far as she was concerned, there was no one like Whitney or Luther Vandross, and I had to agree with her. Although she did grow just as fond of Babyface when I turned her on to his top-selling single “Whip Appeal” back in 1989. She even watched the video on BET and couldn’t stop saying what a “cute little thing” he was.
Frank finally pulled up behind me, so I turned off the radio and opened the door to get out. First I set the alarm, locked the doors and walked toward his SUV, which was the same as mine except it was black.
“Sorry I’m a little late,” he said when I sat inside next to him.
“No problem.”
“I wasn’t able to leave as early as I thought, but I made it.”
He drove around to the exit and then onto the ramp leading back to I-90 East.
“So was the traffic still okay coming from Mitchell?” I asked, making small talk.
“It wasn’t bad at all considering it’s prime time for rush hour.”
“Well, the parking lot at that truck stop was packed.”
“I noticed that, but maybe it’s because so many people are traveling on vacation.”
“Yeah, that’s probably true.”
We drove in silence for a whole sixty seconds, which felt more like an hour.
“Believe it or not, I’m a little nervous,” he said, keeping his eyes on the road.
“So am I.”
“I feel like a big kid, because I’ve spent all this time trying to take you out, and now I’m acting like a coward.”
“This is a little awkward for both of us, so don’t feel bad.”
“Well, I guess we can start with you telling me why you said yes in the first place. I’m still a little surprised about that.”
“David asked me for a divorce, and after finding out about Kelli getting that job, I decided it was time for me to do something for me.”
“And that’s it? That’s the only reason?”
“No, that’s not the only reason. I really wanted to go out with you.”
“So it doesn’t have anything to do with the fact that you’re attracted to me.”
“Yeah, it has something to do with that, too.”
I couldn’t believe I was finally admitting that to him.
He looked at me and smiled. “I knew you were all along.”
I smiled, too, when he looked back at the highway and felt a warm feeling disseminate over me.
“Some things take a little longer to evolve than others.”
“This is true, but I’m just glad it finally happened.”
Traffic slowed as we traveled closer to Elgin. Every lane was lined with cars and semitrucks, and it wasn’t long before we rolled to a complete stop.
“Now, why don’t you tell me something about you,” I said, because even though I’d told him quite a bit about myself, I didn’t know all that much about him.
“I’ve been at Reed Meyers for five years, worked for a company in Chicago for two years prior to that, was married once, which is a long story, and don’t have any children . . . oh, and I love beautiful black women like you.”
I smiled looking straight ahead, and while the comment about beautiful black women was flattering, I wanted to know more about this previous marriage.
“B
ut I guess you already knew that part, huh?” he asked.
“What part is that?”
“About my weakness for beautiful black women?”
“I don’t know about the beautiful part, but I had a pretty good idea that you preferred dating black women,” I said, thinking how ironic all of this was since David preferred dating white women.
“Oh, so you’re trying to be modest, right?”
“No. I’m not.”
“Well, whether you realize it or not, you are beautiful.”
“Is that so?” I asked, trying to disguise how happy he was making me feel.
“Yes. It is.”
I smiled but didn’t respond.
So he continued. “And let’s see what else? Oh. I was born in Evanston, but my parents moved to Mitchell when they opened up their Lexus dealership.”
“Really? The one on North State?”
“Yep.”
“That’s where I leased mine a few months ago.”
“Really now? I wish I’d known, because I would have gotten my dad to give you a better deal than you probably ended up with. And if you’d gone to dinner with me before now, I would have known you were in the market for a new vehicle and could have put in a good word for you.”
“I got it over a year ago when David and I were a lot happier, so I wouldn’t have been able to go to dinner with you back then, anyway.”
“Oh well, I guess not.”
“Do you have any brothers and sisters?” I probed a little further.
“One brother who’s two years older than me,” he said, and changed to the middle lane, which was moving faster than the others.
“How old are you?” I wanted to know.
“Thirty-eight.”
“What about you?”
“I’m thirty-six.”
“I was thinking you were more like thirty-two,” he added.
“Yeah, right,” I said.
“I was. You look a lot younger than thirty-six.”
“I don’t think so, but thanks for the compliment.”
“You’re very welcome, Anise Miller.”
“Does your brother live in Mitchell?”
“Yeah, he does. He’s a State Farm agent.”
“Sounds to me like your whole family is successful.”
“Maybe, but we’ve got our problems like everyone else.”
“I was thinking earlier how none of us can probably get around that.”
“One thing that’s going on with us is that my brother did the unthinkable, and my parents aren’t too happy about it.”
“What was that?”
“He married a woman who’d already had two children out of wedlock.”
“Are they happy?”
“Who? My brother and his wife?”
“Yes.”
“Extremely.”
“Then, no offense to your parents, but why should it matter that his wife had children?”
“It shouldn’t, but they don’t treat her the way they should. They’ve treated previous girlfriends of mine better than they treat their only daughter-in-law, and my brother is constantly battling with them about it.”
“That’s too bad,” I said, wondering which girlfriends Frank had taken to meet his parents.
“It really is,” he said.
“So have they met all of your female friends or just the white ones?”
I hoped my question hadn’t sounded rude, but I felt this was something I should know.
“They haven’t met all of them, but they’ve met both black and white friends of mine, if that’s what you mean. And they don’t have a problem with me dating whomever I want to.”
“That’s good to know, because if they weren’t okay with it, holidays would be pretty uncomfortable for all of you if you married a black woman.”
He looked at me, and I wished I could take back what I’d said. I’d left the conversation wide open for any comment he wanted to make.
“Maybe you’ll end up being that woman.”
“Have you forgotten that I already have a husband?”
“But it doesn’t sound like you will for long.”
“I think we’d better change the subject,” I said.
He chortled under his breath.
His remark made me feel special, but I didn’t let on.
We discussed our college years, my childhood, my parents, their divorce, and now he wanted to know about David.
“So what do you think happened between the two of you?” he asked, tossing fifteen cents into the 290 East toll basket, preparing to drive into Schaumburg.
“It’s a long story, but basically we grew apart. I think we really did love each other, but we were never passionately in love with each other like I thought in the beginning. And he’s sort of forgotten who he is and where he came from.”
“Meaning?”
“He hates the fact that he’s black and refuses to interact with other black people unless he absolutely has to.”
“I knew someone like that at Drake. This guy made more racial jokes about blacks than any white students I knew.”
“Then you know what I mean.”
“Yeah, unfortunately I do.”
“He even thinks the reason I’m not being treated fairly by Jim is because I’m too dark.”
“Unbelievable. Even I know the saying, The darker the berry, the sweeter the juice. For me, the darker the skin, the more beautiful it is.”
“Well, David doesn’t see it that way. He sees it as something to be ashamed of.”
“That’s too bad. And if that’s why he’s not happy with you, then it’s his loss.”
“He’s probably happy now, though, because he’s seeing someone else—who isn’t black.”
“Oh.”
We pulled into Morton’s parking lot, which was full, and valet-parked. Frank walked around to where I was standing and rested his hand on my back as we entered the restaurant.
“Hello,” the hostess said. “Do you have a reservation with us this evening?”
“Yes. Two for Colletti.”
The woman with long dark hair scanned the book and crossed out Frank’s last name when she found it.
A sandy-brown-haired woman gathered two menus and showed us to our table. Which happened much sooner than the first time David had brought me here, because on that particular evening, there were at least a couple dozen people sitting in the bar waiting to be seated. But that was on a Saturday night around seven, the peak dining hour.
Our waiter was standing at the candlelit, linen-covered table and pulled a chair back for me to sit down. Frank sat across from me. The waiter asked what we wanted to drink. I told him water and Frank requested a glass of red wine.
I’d purposely not made eye contact with any other customers as we wove through various tables. But now I couldn’t help but look around to see who was looking back. I glanced to the right and saw a black couple staring at me. Then I looked to the left and saw a white woman doing the same, but she quickly switched her eyes back to the man she was having dinner with when she realized I’d seen her. But everyone else I scanned wasn’t paying Frank and me any attention.
I was embarrassed, however, when Frank noticed what I was doing.
“Does it bother you that much?” he asked.
“What?” I said.
“Does it bother you that some people are staring?”
“Actually, it does.”
“We don’t have to stay if you don’t want to.”
Now I felt bad.
“No, I’ll be fine. I’m just not used to this. Well, actually I am used to going into nice restaurants with David and being stared at because we were the only blacks in there, but for some reason this feels different.”
“I understand, and that’s why we don’t have to stay. It won’t get dark for a couple of hours, so we could pick up something on the run and go sit in a park if you want.”
“No, this is just fine.”
“You’re sure
?” he asked, smiling, and I appreciated how considerate he was.
“I’m sure.”
“I always get the filet whenever I come. But if you want to see what else they have, we can wait for them to bring out that huge table of raw meat, trying to impress us with the large cuts they offer,” Frank said, smiling and skimming his menu.
I did the same and said, “The filet is fine for me as well.”
“Do you wanna share some sides?”
“Asparagus and garlic potatoes would be good.”
“I see we have something else in common.”
“You like those, too?”
“Love them. Could eat asparagus seven days a week if someone prepared it for me.”
“I know what you mean.”
The waiter brought our drinks, and Frank told him what we wanted to order, including two salads with French dressing.
Frank rested his elbows on the table, locked his fingers together, leaned his chin on the back of his hands and gazed at me in silence. I looked away from him as if I was searching the restaurant for someone in particular, but when I looked back at him, his eyes were still fixed on me.
He was making me nervous, the same way he had on other occasions.
“What’s wrong?” I asked.
“I love watching you.”
I beamed, took a sip of water and sat my glass back on the table.
“I know I’m embarrassing you, but I can’t help it. You are so beautiful, and I can’t believe I’m actually sitting here with you having dinner.”
“Well, believe it.”
“You are everything I want in a woman.”
“But you really don’t know me that well.”
“But I know what I like. I love the way you look. I love your smile. And I love your personality. So what else is there?”
“I don’t know.”
“Well, I guess there is one problem. You don’t feel the same way about me.”
The conversation was dipping a little deeper than I wanted it to.
“I wouldn’t say that.”
“Then are you saying you do feel the same way?”
I didn’t answer. Instead I looked around to see if anyone could hear what we were discussing, but no one was even glancing in our direction. I was self-conscious, and I was starting to realize that I was feeling uncomfortable on my own and not because of what these strangers were thinking.
A Taste of Reality Page 17