A Mighty Love

by Anita Doreen Diggs

  Adrienne couldn’t believe the callousness of Dan’s statement. How would he feel if he woke up one morning and found that every single thing he’d ever owned had simply vanished? Wouldn’t he feel compelled to replace all that he’d lost? Her weekly shopping trips took away the awful sense of powerlessness that gnawed at her insides. Once the new baby was born, she had no doubt that the pain, which ate away at her inside, would disappear entirely.

  Adrienne stamped her foot. It was a childish gesture. She knew that, but she was too wound up with worry over what lay ahead for her and Mel, to contain herself any longer. “Have you forgotten that I arrived on your doorstep with just the clothes on my back?”

  At that moment, the doorbell rang. Adrienne ran for the door as her brother and sister-in-law lapsed into a troubled silence.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  When Mel left Lillian’s house, he had caught a cab down to Fourteenth Street, where he had hired a van and a helper. The helper turned out to be a gangly, pimply faced Irish kid. Mel took one look at him and turned back to face the owner. “Come on, man! I told you last week that I needed somebody to help me lift some real heavy shit. Is this the best you could do?”

  “That’s my son, Ian. He’s only sixteen but he’s strong. You’ll see.”

  Ian just stood there. Mel looked at his watch. It was 8:55 A.M. No time to argue. He nodded in Ian’s direction. “Let’s go,” he said with disgust.

  Melvin said nothing to the kid as the van careened up Tenth Avenue toward Dan’s apartment. He hated moving boxes and furniture. It reminded him too much of his father.

  Debra had often told him the story of their parents. Harry and Simmie Jordan had married in 1953, but theirs was no church wedding. Harry had driven Simmie from their hometown of Santee, South Carolina, to the courthouse in Columbia. They exchanged the basic vows before a judge, then went back to Harry’s house, where Simmie cried all afternoon. She had wanted at least a small reception at her parents’ home, but Harry had been adamant. He said that he wasn’t totally sure the baby was his. One sign of fuss or celebration, he told Simmie, and he was pulling out. For good. So she simply fingered her new wedding band and held her hand up to the dim light in their closet-size bedroom.

  Simmie was glad to have Debra to occupy her daytime hours when Harry was working at the furniture-moving company. Harry took a real interest in Debra, even though he still didn’t love his wife. For Harry, nothing was too good for Debra, his precious baby girl who looked just like him. Simmie, in turn, hated the little girl for taking away what little attention Harry used to pay her. The family moved to New York, where Mel was born four years later.

  Mel, named after his maternal grandfather, had been born shortly after Debra’s fourth birthday. Even though Harry, Simmie, and their tiny daughter were all brown skinned, the boy was coal black. Since Mel was so dark, Harry felt that his wife had been unfaithful. He could barely stand the sight of Mel and made sure that the boy knew it.

  Simmie adored her son, but she died from a heart attack when Mel was only twelve years old. Soon after, Harry took off, leaving his two children to be raised by an elderly aunt.

  Mel shook his head to clear away the dismal memories as he and Ian waited for Adrienne to buzz them into the building.

  When Mel walked into Dan’s apartment, he could feel the tension.

  Mel kissed his wife and grunted a hello to his in-laws. He pointed a finger at the kid’s chest. “His name is Ian. He’s going to help me and Dan with the lifting.”

  “You know that old bureau that I’ve been keeping my CDs in?” Adrienne asked Charlene.

  “Go on, take it, girl,” Charlene said grumpily.

  Mel wondered briefly what they had been arguing about.

  Since Adrienne and Dan still hadn’t finished taping the boxes when Mel arrived, he and the kid had to help them. Mel had to give Ian an extra twenty dollars for his time and it really pissed him off. The five of them worked in silence until every box was taped.

  As Mel and Dan loaded the bureau into the van, it almost slipped from their grasp. This would have meant serious injury for the slightly built white boy who was holding up the other side. When the vehicle was finally ready to go, Adrienne and Dan squeezed in the front next to Mel. Charlene and Ian rode in the back.

  As the blocks sped by, Mel felt as though he were headed toward a jail cell. To calm himself, he tried to think about the past few months.

  Debra’s place meant old-school music, dancing, card parties. Ahead of him lay a closed world with two people trying to find their place in it as the tiny ghost of a third hovered over them. He was sure of only two things. He still loved Adrienne, and his get-high days were over. There was no way any marriage could last if one partner was using drugs. From now on, he would stick to rum.

  It was a silent ride. Mel couldn’t think of anything to say, and he figured that everyone else picked up on his somber vibe.

  When the van pulled up in front of the new building, they all clambered out. Adrienne and Charlene waited on the stoop and watched the three men struggle once again with the huge bureau. Mel saw the front door open. A tall man with butterscotch skin appeared and stood watching alongside Adrienne and Charlene. He was wearing jeans, boots, and a bomber jacket. A big man, Mel thought. That’s good since we could use some help.

  “Hey, man, could you give us a hand?” he yelled.

  The man trotted down the steps and grabbed an edge of the bureau. Adrienne went up to the second floor to unlock the door, and the four men grunted and gasped their way up the stairs and into the apartment. They set the bureau down in what was to be the living room. After a couple of trips back out to the van, all the boxes were in as well. Mel shook the stranger’s hand. “I’m glad you came along, man. Thanks a lot.”

  “No trouble at all. I live on the first floor in the back.”

  “You must be the cop,” Mel said bluntly.

  The guy laughed. “I hope there’s more to me than that. My name is Ed Winsome. Welcome to the building.”

  Mel introduced everyone, and then Adrienne gestured to Dan and Charlene. “Come on, let me show you the place.”

  “Do you like it?” Adrienne babbled nervously as they walked through the rooms. “I thought I could buy a navy blue leather sofa like Mel always wanted. We could put it on this wall. What I want to do is recapture the homey feeling of our old apartment while at the same time creating something new.”

  Mel smiled at Adrienne, realizing that she was anxious, too, and concentrated on maneuvering the bureau into the space where Adrienne wanted it. Mel moved some more boxes, then straightened up. His back hurt. He groaned.

  “Are you all right?” Adrienne asked.

  “Yeah, baby. I’m just getting too old for this shit.”

  “Don’t worry,” Adrienne said. “I don’t see us moving out of this apartment for a long time.”

  “I’m glad to hear we’re not moving soon, baby, because my back feels like it’s about to quit on me.” Mel laughed lightly.

  “I have to be going now,” Ed Winsome announced.

  The other two men and Charlene headed for the door, too, murmuring their good-byes as Mel pressed Ian’s payment into his skinny hand.

  When everyone had gone, Mel pulled out his knife. “I’ll cut the tape on the boxes, and you figure out where to put things, okay?”

  Adrienne smiled. “We have one bureau and nothing else. There’s nowhere to put anything yet.”

  It was the truth. Mel sighed. “Okay. Do you have some blankets? We can’t sleep on this hard-assed floor.”

  Adrienne looked at the boxes. She pointed at three that were clustered in a corner. “Try those.” Mel slit the tape on one box and peered in. “Makeup,” he said, bewildered.

  Adrienne hastened to his side and pulled on his arm. “A gal’s got to look good,” she joked nervously.

  Mel knelt down and removed each item. Five tubes of mascara, ten tubes of lipstick, ten lip liners, six packs of false eyelashes
, five bottles of White Diamonds perfume, three pumice stones, nine bottles of nail polish and four packs of Fashion Fair foundation. Every item in the box was still in its original package—unopened. Mel blinked and looked up at his wife, who was anxiously wringing her hands.

  “What does this mean, baby?”

  “I like to buy on sale, Mel.”

  Mel slit the tape on the next box. There were three blankets and a radio. A big book lay at the bottom. Mel lifted it out. It was their wedding album. But that didn’t make sense, everything they owned had been destroyed in the fire.

  “Did you have an extra album at Dan’s house or something ?”

  Adrienne shook her head. “No. Mama sent me hers.”

  “That was nice of her.”

  “Yes, it was,” Adrienne agreed softly.

  Mel spread the blankets. Adrienne plugged in the radio.

  They lay on the floor and turned the album pages. They looked so happy in the photos. It was hard for Adrienne to believe that so much had happened since the wedding.

  “We used to be happy, right?”

  Mel smiled enigmatically and stood up. “Let’s dance.”

  Adrienne put her arms around her husband’s neck, and for Mel, the clock went back four years to their first date. They had rocked to the mournful strumming coming from the guitar of a no-talent blues band in a dinky Greenwich Village barbecue joint. Everything around them had seemed to sparkle. Mel held Adrienne tightly, wanting to weep because his carelessness had shattered the beautiful life they had once created.

  “I love you, Mel.”

  “I love you, too, baby.”

  CHAPTER SIX

  It had been more than six months since they slept together. The only light came from a table lamp that Charlene had no longer needed, and it cast a bright circle that illuminated Adrienne and her husband as they fumbled out of their clothes. When they were both naked, Adrienne closed her eyes. Her husband’s hands roamed over her body. She wanted to caress him back, but every time she started to lift her hands, something hard twisted within her chest. Was it because Mel’s touch was so cold? Or maybe it was that Mel’s eyes were lifeless, his lips clamped tightly shut. He looked as if he had just been sentenced to life in prison. He mounted her but didn’t have enough of an erection to enter, and she could sense his shame.

  “Mel, don’t worry about it.”

  He climbed off and lay on his back. They both stared at the ceiling. “You’re cold as ice. That’s what the fuck is wrong.”

  Adrienne knew he was right. She didn’t feel an ounce of desire. Ever since they had rented the apartment, Adrienne had daydreamed about being with him. She had visualized every moment of their lovemaking. The most exciting part of each of those scenarios had been the instant when the past receded into an infinitesimal dot and she was consumed by a passion so deep that it seeped into Mel’s bones and transported them both into frenzied ecstasy. Instead, Mel’s fondling felt like the reassuring pats and hugs she had received from her family in the awful days before Delilah’s funeral. His charcoal-colored semihard penis became the image of a tiny, limp human being. Adrienne felt she could not say all of this out loud without destroying what little chance they had of rebuilding their marriage. So she just took his hand and whispered, “I’m sorry.”

  He sighed heavily. “Do you know where my cigarettes are?”

  “So you’re going to give up. Just like that?” Adrienne knew she was being unreasonable, but she couldn’t think of anything else to say.

  Mel turned over to face her. Now his eyes looked angry. “Let me tell you something, baby. This floor is hard, and my thoughts are all fucked up, too, so let’s just try and get some sleep. Okay?”

  Silent tears coursed down Adrienne’s cheeks as Mel got up and fumbled around for his cigarettes. He finally found them and sat smoking in a corner on the other side of the room. As the ringlets of smoke curled through the air, Adrienne wondered if Mel had ever tried to kick the habit after the accident. How could he stand to light a cigarette after what had happened to Delilah? She sighed heavily. The road ahead was not going to be a smooth one.

  “Mel, we’ll get through this. Right?”

  Adrienne fell asleep waiting for him to answer.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  Mel woke up first. He looked down at his sleeping wife and felt like a complete shit. Last night’s disaster wasn’t entirely Adrienne’s fault. He had felt nothing except sadness as Adrienne fumbled out of her clothing, and a wave of remorse had washed over him when he first touched her naked body. Had he lost his heat for Adrienne? If so, why hadn’t he been man enough to admit it rather than blaming her? He groaned out loud because he didn’t have the answer to either of those questions. The noise made Adrienne turn over. He looked around the huge living room. Nothing but boxes. And he had no money in the bank and didn’t get paid until next week. Since he was a loner who didn’t have any personal friends outside of Debra’s crowd, there was no one he could ask for some extra cash. What a mess.

  Maybe a hot shower will clear my head, he thought. He stood up, wondering which box held the washcloths, towels, and soap. The memories of their other beautifully furnished apartment came flooding back. A ragged sob escaped from his throat as he stood there in the bare, chilly room. He tenderly wrapped the blankets around his wife, got dressed without washing, and sat smoking in a corner until she woke up.

  They slept on the floor for a week, and although they didn’t actually make love, at least Mel could snuggle Adrienne in his arms, and she would hold him close throughout the night.

  The furniture store delivered their black-lacquered bedroom furniture the following Saturday. A queen-size bed, two night tables, a chest of drawers for Mel, and a mirrored dresser for Adrienne. After everything was in place, they grinned at each other. Adrienne hugged him around the waist, that first night forgotten. They still worked well together. It felt like old times.

  “Let’s get these boxes out of here,” Mel said.

  “No,” Adrienne answered quickly. “I have a better idea. You got paid yesterday. Go buy us a television set with the money we have left while I unpack.”

  “There’s a lot of work to do here, baby. I should help.”

  Adrienne smiled brightly. “You can flatten all the empty boxes and take them outside when you get back.”

  Mel stood on the front steps. He felt very confused and a little desperate. Adrienne seemed secretive in some way. It was obvious that she had wanted to get rid of him a few moments ago. Why? He walked to the corner of Thirtieth Street and hesitated. Adrienne had rushed him from the house, so she shouldn’t mind if he took his time getting back home. Debra would still be sober since it was only noon. He could take the Eighth Avenue bus uptown and pay her a visit. He could talk things out with her in a roundabout way. His sister had a way of looking at things and figuring out how to start fixing whatever was wrong. She had pulled him out of the dark and back to work when he’d given up on life. She and her crazy friends had made him laugh again. Yeah, he would go see Debra. She could also go downtown and help him pick out a nice TV.

  Big Boy opened the door and gave Mel an angry, hateful look. Before Mel could ask what the hell his problem was, the giant stomped past him and Mel heard his footsteps thundering down the stairs. Debra kicked the door closed once Mel was inside and then sat down heavily in a kitchen chair.

  “What’s wrong with that crazy bastard?” Mel yelled.

  “Sit your dumb ass down!” Debra roared.

  Mel sat. He wondered if everyone in the world had gone crazy.

  “Listen, Mel. I’m tired o’ yo shit.”

  “What shit are you talkin’ ’bout?” Mel asked.

  “What you go and fuck wit Lillian for? And then you leave her bed and go straight back to Adrienne?”

  Mel dropped his head in his hands. Damn, no wonder Big Boy was so mad. “Lillian knew I was married,” he said weakly.

  “Separated. She knew you were living here with me and t
hat you and yore wife was separated. Don’t give me any bullshit, Mel, cuz I ain’t in the mood.”

  “Aw, damn. Lillian is a grown woman. She knows better than to hit the sack the first time a man takes her out.”

  “‘Aw, damn,’ my ass. Lillian came by here one night lookin’ for your worthless ass, and I tole her you had moved out that same mornin’. Had been planning the move for a week. Poor woman broke down cryin’ right here in my kitchen.”

  Mel couldn’t think of anything to say.

  “What did you go back with your wife for if you wanna fool around wit’ other women?”

  Mel flapped his hands helplessly. “It was my last night of freedom, Debra.”

  “That’s a dumb-assed reason. What the hell was you thinkin?”

  “I guess I wasn’t thinking, Debra.” All of a sudden he felt tired. “Got anything to drink?”

  Debra glared at him.

  “Please. Debra I’m goin’ through a lot right now.” He breathed a sigh of relief when his sister went to get the rum.

  They poured two healthy drinks and Mel turned on the radio to an oldies station. The disc jockey was playing “I’ll Be Around,” by The Spinners.

  “Damn. This song brings back some good memories,” Mel said as he sat back down. “House parties, red light bulbs . . .”

  Debra interrupted his reverie. “Grow the fuck up, Mel. That’s your problem right now. Always lookin’ back or feelin’ sorry for yourself.”

  “Look, Debra, I’ll go talk to Lillian and make things right. Okay?”

  She snorted. “There ain’t no way to make it right, but you could be man enough to say you’re sorry.”

  Mel said nothing. He had no intention of calling Lillian and they both knew it.

  Debra wouldn’t let the subject go. She fixed him with a penetrating stare. “What I wanna know is how you figured you could get away with it?” She paused. “And now that Big Boy is pissed, where am I supposed to get this month’s rent from?”

  “Don’t worry, Sis, I’ll give you the rent when I get paid.” Mel said gently.