Can't Just Be His Friend
Page 29
“Yeah, Reggie,” I said, trying to smooth things over. “That was the Sunday after we graduated from college.”
“Yeah. I miss those days,” Reggie said, glaring at me.
“So how’s your job going, Reggie?” Derrick asked.
“Not as lucrative as yours, but it’s going good,” Reggie said, taking a sip of beer. “I actually was considering moving to Boston…was top candidate for a high-level position there.”
“You didn’t tell me that,” I told him, my heart racing a bit at the thought of him moving away.
“Never got the chance to…you know, with you being so busy and all.”
“You didn’t tell me either,” Patricia said, just as taken aback as I was. “I’m not busy. Why didn’t I know anything about this.”
“It doesn’t matter,” he said. “I didn’t take the job.” Reggie wiped his mouth, stood up and said, “You know what…I don’t feel too good all of a sudden.”
“What’s wrong, man?” Derrick asked, but I had the sinking feeling he knew. He knew Reggie still had feelings for me.
“Just…ah…” Reggie said and I knew he was about to make something up. “Chest pains,” he said, then glanced at me. “I’m gonna go home and rest.”
“All right son,” Patricia said. “I hope you feel better.”
Reggie took off towards the back door and I said, “Reggie, wait. I’ll walk you out.”
I turned to Derrick, told him I’d be right back, then I followed Reggie to his car.
Once we were almost there, I asked, “Reggie, why are you leaving? We haven’t even played any games yet.”
“You know why I’m leaving,” he said as if he was upset with me. “I can’t pretend like I don’t love you…like I don’t have feelings for you.”
“Reggie, you’re really putting me in an awkward position. I mean, what can I do to help you?”
“Apparently, there’s nothing you can do but go on and have your happy little life with Derrick. I’ll find a way to deal with this on my own.” Getting in his truck, he said, “I’ll see you later. I mean, I’ll see you whenever you feel like you wanna see me.”
He shut the door then drove away, leaving me standing there feeling sad for him, questioning myself for marrying Derrick. Reggie and I both knew we had a bond neither of us could share with another person. And even though I loved Derrick with all of my heart, Reggie and I had a history, a story, something Derrick and I didn’t share, but were only in the process of making.
***
Later that night, Derrick and I lay in bed. He was spooning me as usual then started rubbing on me, like he always did when he wanted to make love, but I was not in the mood. I couldn’t make love to him with Reggie so heavy on my mind tonight. So I kindly said, “Baby, not tonight. I’m too tired.”
He kissed me anyway, pelting my neck and my back, and while he was kissing me, I was oddly remembering the last time I had Chinese food. It was the Sunday after Reggie and I left the hotel after our graduation getaway, the Sunday he chose to bring up over dinner tonight. I recalled how later that Sunday night, Reggie kissed me the same way Derrick was kissing me now. I tried to purge this away from my mind, but the more Derrick kissed me, the more I thought about that night – my dark room, me and Reggie. Alone.
I turned around to face him, my handsome husband, who knew full well how much I loved him, how even when I was not in the mood, I couldn’t resist his advances. I simply found him irresistible and he knew it.
He sidled himself on top of me, and as his weight seized me to the bed, he asked, “What’s wrong, baby?” then kissed me more.
“Nothing,” I replied to him, because right now nothing was wrong with me as I came to this realization about Derrick. Everything was right with us, with him.
An hour and a half later, after we were both spent, satisfied and sweaty, our eyes barely open and lying naked in our spooning position again, Derrick said, “You remember when we first met?” combing his fingers through my hair.
I smiled wearily, and said, “Yeah. I remember.”
“You were so nervous.”
“I was, wasn’t I?”
“Mmm hmm,” Derrick said. “And after that first date, I knew I would make you my wife.”
“You did?” I asked, knowing I didn’t do a good job in the first impressions department with Derrick. Still, he overlooked my flaws, saw the good in me.
“Yeah. Did you think we would make it this far?”
“I didn’t. I thought you were a bit too much for me,” I told him.
“Really?”
“Yeah, but not anymore. Well, in some ways you are,” I said and he knew by my sarcastic tone I was speaking of the powerful way he made love to me.
“But you like that, right?”
“I love that. I love you. I love us. I love what we have.”
“Me too,” Derrick said, kissing my shoulder. “Hey, what was up with Reggie tonight?”
“Ah…” I said. Derrick caught me off guard. “I don’t know. He’s…he’s…”
“He’s in love with my wife,” Derrick said and it seemed as if time had stopped still. “You don’t have to say it. I already know what’s going on,” he said, stroking my hair. “I see the way he looks at you…the way he finds a reason to touch you when it’s not even necessary. I only respect him because I know how much he means to you. I know you care about him.”
I turned around to face him, and said, “I do, Derrick, and I have utmost respect for you understanding my friendship with him. But I’m not in love with him if that’s what you’re thinking. I’m in love with you, my husband…my wonderful husband,” I said climbing on top of him now, staring down into his eyes. “I love you so much.”
Derrick smiled, pulled me down to him, kissed me tenderly. Then I laid on his chest, fully relaxed, thinking that this was the perfect time for me to tell him about my missed period, about the possibility that I might be pregnant, but I refused to tell him unless I knew for sure. So I said nothing and fell asleep in his arms.
Chapter 32
The next few days fly by so quickly, it didn’t feel like I lived them. Derrick’s cough seemed to have gotten worse, and he eluded me when I asked him questions about it. He stayed at work late for the past couple of days, both days not getting home until eleven. I noticed he looked drained but he only told me he was tired, busy with work and needed some rest. This morning when he left, he assured me that he would be home at a decent hour to actually have dinner with me.
So I worked from home today, spent most of the day on conference calls with Bentley, but working at home still afforded me the opportunity to get dinner started early in the day. At two, I’d chopped onions and green peppers, throwing them into a bowl of thawed ground beef, sprinkling some meat loaf seasoning and a few other seasonings to give the meat some good flavor.
That was done two hours later and now after checking emails, chatting it up with Brenda about Bentley’s new girlfriend and talking to Mom for a few minutes, I had time to wash my hair, finally. Just as I lathered it up, the phone rang. If I didn’t think it was Derrick, I would’ve ignored it, but I quickly wrapped a towel around my shampoo-soaked hair and rushed to the phone. I hadn’t talked to Derrick since he left for work this morning, so if it was him calling, I didn’t want to miss him.
“Hey, baby,” I told him. “When are you gonna be home? I have dinner partially ready. I just need to steam some broccoli.”
“Tiffany…don’t be mad at me, ah’ight.”
It can’t be good when your man preludes what he really wants to say with don’t be mad at me.
“Mad at you for what?”
“Baby, I gotta fly out to Charlotte again. I have to leave tonight.”
“Why?”
“It’s the business, Tiffany.”
“When are you leaving?”
“I’m heading straight to the airport as soon as I get off the phone with you.”
“So you’re not coming home to get
some clothes?”
“I have some clothes here at my office to take with me.”
“Derrick, why didn’t you tell me this when we talked this morning?”
“I didn’t know I would be leaving then. I’m sorry, baby, but please understand that I need to do this.”
I thought about what he said. He didn’t know he was going to be leaving, but he already had clothes. This wasn’t a spur of the moment business meeting. This had been planned and now he was executing the plan. I left it alone though, at least for the moment.
“Tiffany.” He coughed and cleared his throat. “Tiffany, you there?”
“Yeah. How did your appointment go? I see you still have that cough.”
“It was okay. I have to drop off my prescription. Hopefully the medicine will kick in fast.”
“Derrick, I want you to come home. Do you have to leave tonight? I don’t wanna be in this house by myself.”
“Baby, I’m sorry but I have to go. If you get lonely, go spend the night at Reggie’s, okay?”
“What?” I asked him. I thought he’d misspoken.
“I said if you get lonely, go stay with Reggie.”
Then I thought to myself why Derrick would tell me to spend the night with Reggie, knowing our history. He knew how Reggie felt about me, though sometimes, he pretended that Reggie and I were still only just friends, though anyone who knew us was aware that we were way more than that.
“Yeah, all right,” I said, breezy.
“Baby, don’t be angry with me.”
“Derrick, I don’t know what’s going on with you. What’s up with all these doctor appointments, then the coughing and now you, all of a sudden, have to fly to Charlotte?”
Derrick said nothing, which only pissed me off more. So I said, “Oh, now you have nothing to say? Okay, well, have a good trip. I gotta dry my hair. Bye.”
I hung up the phone. Something was going on with Derrick. We hadn’t made love in a week. All he did was cough and hack about every night.
I was so mad at him for being illusive with me, I didn’t even wash my hair. I called Mom instead. Anytime I needed to clear my head, I could always count on her.
“Hey, Tiffany,” she answered.
“Hi, Ma.”
“What’s up?”
“Nothing much. How are you?”
“I’m doing good, honey. I was sitting here thinking about you how much fun we had the other night.”
“Oh,” I said, not wanting to tell her what I had on my mind now.
“Is everything okay?” she asked me.
“I don’t know…Derrick is sick. He has a cough or something.”
“Oh really? I was getting sick with a cold myself.”
“That’s the thing, Ma. He doesn’t have a cold. It’s just a recurring cough.”
“Did he see a doctor?”
“He went to the doctor a few days ago. But Reggie told me he saw Derrick back and forth out of the medical practice across from his job.”
“What? Why would he be going to the doctor so frequently?”
“I don’t know and what makes me worry is he kept it a secret from me. At first, I thought he was running a campaign for them or something, but now, I don’t know what to think.”
“Where is he now?”
“Get this…he’s flying to Charlotte tonight and I just found that out a few minutes ago.”
“Yeah, something doesn’t sound right.”
“I know. Now I guess I gotta wait until he comes back from Charlotte to find out what’s going on.”
“Well if you need me, honey, you know where I am.”
“All right, Ma. Maybe we can go to lunch this weekend or something.”
“Okay.”
“All right. I’ll talk to you later.”
As soon as I flipped my phone shut, Derrick burst though the bedroom door, tossed his briefcase aside and yelled, “Why did you hang up on me!” His appearance was shockingly disturbing. He had on a pair of jeans, a black unbuttoned, wrinkled up shirt and some Adidas sandals. His face was wet with tears (or sweat), his eyes, a sleepy, just-rolled-out-of-bed, pinkish color.
“I hung up on you because I was upset.”
“Why? What reason have I given you to be upset with me!”
“Why are you yelling!” His shouting made me louder. Derrick was so close to me, he could see what I had to eat for lunch.
“Because I’m trying my best to be a man for you! Everything I do somehow goes back to me doing it for you, Tiffany!”
“You don’t have to work so hard for me, Derrick. I have a job. And you won’t even let me pay any bills, I can’t even pay for dinner when we go out. If we’re having money problems then why didn’t you just tell me? We can work it out. I have some money saved up.”
“We’re not having money problems, baby.”
Derrick walked over to the bed and sat down, his head hanging low. I could hear him sniffling as he squinted his eyes to ban the tears from getting free. I walked over to the bed and kneeled down in front of him.
“Derrick,” I said holding his hands. “What’s wrong?” He looked at me in shame but failed to say a word to me. “Derrick, baby, whatever it is, you can talk to me.”
“Tiffany, I’m so sorry, baby.” Derrick cried harder. “I love you so much.”
His hands covered his face as he wept. The suspense was more than I could handle. Seeing my man cry like this made me cry with him. But having no idea what was wrong had me on edge.
“Derrick, talk to me.”
He partially got his self together just long enough to say, “I lied to you.”
“You lied to me about what, sweetie?”
“The reason why I was going to Charlotte.”
“So tell me the truth. Why were you going Charlotte?”
“Tiffany, I’m sick.”
“I know you’re sick.”
“No, no, no. I’m not talking about the cough. I mean, I’m sick. I…I have cancer,” he said and caught his breath while I drifted into shock. I didn’t know much about cancer but I did know it was treatable in some circumstances. Derrick looked at me again, his face soaked with his own tears and cried out, “I’m dying, Tiffany.”
“What? What are you talking about, Derrick?”
He took his damp hands and placed them on my face and said, “I’m dying.”
He cried harder and that only made the truthfulness of what he was saying to me all the more real. I was too alarmed to cry. I couldn’t even feel myself breathing. I’d died in that single moment. With those two words, my life was over. I had to find the strength to remain positive for him though, and for me.
“Derrick, you’re not dying. There are treatments for cancer, right?”
“There are no treatments that can cure advanced prostate cancer.”
I felt like I was in the middle of a bad dream. Derrick was going to kiss me any minute now and wake me up from this horrible nightmare. But it wasn’t a dream. It was my real life. My husband of six months was sick with cancer – advanced cancer.
“When I went to Charlotte a few weeks back, I went to try a treatment…something like chemotherapy, but it wasn’t working. I was leaving today to try radiation therapy but now, I don’t think I want that.”
“Why wouldn’t you want that? We can’t give up. We have to keep trying. I don’t want to lose you, Derrick.”
“The therapy has too many side effects for the short amount of time it could possibly prolong my life and I don’t want to put you through that, baby. I went through that with my first wife. I saw what the chemo did to her. I can’t do that to you, Tiffany. I’m sorry.”
Derrick got up and went into the bathroom, locking the door behind him while I sat there on the floor and wept like he was already dead. My head was beating like I was on the verge of a massive migraine. I could not believe this was happening to me. In a few short minutes, my life was changed forever.
Chapter 33
Two weeks passed. Derrick�
��s condition continued to worsen. The doctor wanted to hospitalize him last week, but Derrick wanted to stay at home with me.
I took a leave of absence from work, which Bentley understood. He felt sorry for me, as did my Mother and anyone else who caught wind of Derrick’s sickness. I didn’t mention a word to Reggie about it, though I’m sure he may have found out from Patricia. However, I wasn’t going to throw my problems on him. I had to deal with this alone.
Derrick was lying in bed today. That had become the norm for him. He lost weight from not eating and some days, he was too weak to even open his eyes. I was in the kitchen warming up some chicken and rice soup for him. I tipped into our bedroom where he was lying face-up on top of the comforter.
“Derrick, honey, I made you some soup.”
He needed to eat badly. The last thing I remembered him eating was some banana pudding his parents brought over this past Saturday. And they were a wreck. They cried and cried, just like Derrick had already passed. His sister came by every day. His brother stopped by regularly too.
The most heartbreaking thing about seeing someone you love slowly die right before your eyes is the realization of knowing that there is absolutely nothing you can do about it. I couldn’t snap my fingers and make everything right again. All I could do was be there for him, hold him and tell him how much I loved him. He needed to hear that.
I didn’t hold anything in. I cried every day. I cried so often, it became a normal part of my daily routine. My eyes were always puffy. I looked like a sleep deprived mess. I must’ve slept only a few hours a night. I stayed up most nights watching Derrick sleep, reminiscing on all the fun we had, the love we made and the good times we shared. Now my baby was too weak to even walk around the house.
While he slept, I puked every morning like clockwork. Yes, it was confirmed. I was pregnant. The doctor said I was about twelve weeks along, just past the first trimester. She expressed concern about my depression. Said that stress wasn’t good for a pregnancy and I would never forgive myself if I lost our child. It was hard enough having to face losing Derrick. And how would I tell Derrick that he was going to be a father? I debated whether or not I should tell him at all. It would no doubt upset him, knowing he wouldn’t be here to see our child grow up. I didn’t know what to do. I had a new life growing inside of me while my husband’s life was slowly slipping away.