I waited until my friends were all in their rooms and then, with a sigh, I pushed myself up and cleared off the table. Of course, I didn’t have to do that, but I needed something to do with my hands, and these thoughts kept playing in my mind.
“You’re here in search of something more.”
I poured a fresh glass of orange juice, then returned to where I’d been sitting. I went back to just sitting, just thinking, just wondering, just deciding.
When the doorbell to the suite rang, I was still sitting in the same spot.
“I got it,” Roxie shouted and she rushed from her bedroom, dragging her suitcase behind her. She set it against the wall before she opened the door. As the bellman wheeled the cart into the suite, she said, “All good things must come to an end. Come on in.”
“Hello, ladies. I’m here for your luggage,” he said.
Roxie pointed to her black Gucci baggage, then Simone came out of her room, followed last by Nichelle.
After he placed all the bags onto the rack, the bellman turned to me. “Ma’am, do you have your luggage?”
That was when all three of my friends turned to me. Their expressions told me that they had just noticed—I was still in the same place, wearing the same thing, no luggage in sight.
“Aja, what are you doing?” Roxie asked. “Why are you still sitting there?”
“I’m enjoying this glass of orange juice,” I said.
Simone glanced at her watch. “Um, can you either get that juice to go or finish up before we miss the plane?”
It took me a few moments to find my words. I was searching for something. Then it dawned on me. I wouldn’t find it if I got on that plane. “I’m not going,” I said as the realization swept over me.
“I have a million and one things to do when I get back,” Simone continued, as if she hadn’t heard me. “So the last thing I want to do is miss our flight. I also don’t want to be running through the airport.”
But while she jabbered on, Roxie and Nichelle had heard me clearly. I knew they had—it was all in their stares.
“What did you just say?” Nichelle asked.
Before I could answer her, Roxie jumped in with, “Girl, you need to stop playin’.”
I spoke up and repeated my words. “I said, I’m not going.”
A silence fell over the room.
“I’m sorry.” Roxie blinked a couple of times as if that would help her understand my words better. “What do you mean you’re not going?”
I set the glass on the table and sat up erect. “I’m not going back.” My words were stronger this time and I actually smiled. “I’m going to stay in the DR.”
The bellman turned his glance from me to the others as if he not only did not want to get in the middle of this but he had other guests to help, other tips to receive.
“Um, here you go.” Roxie handed him a twenty. “Can you make sure our bags get on the right SUV? Our driver is waiting in a black Tahoe under the name Aja Clayton.” She glanced over at me. “We’ll help our friend bring her bags down.”
He put the money in his pocket, nodded, then exited the room.
Roxie turned back to me. “Okay, I have no idea what’s going on, but you need to go in there and get your bag because it’s time to go.”
She spoke to me in her no-nonsense tone as if she were my mother. So I folded my arms and spoke back to her with conviction. “I don’t know how many other ways to say this . . . I mean, if I could speak another language, I would repeat it several ways. But I’m. Not. Going.”
“You’re not going home?” Simone asked as if she were just now understanding my words.
“Right, I’m going to stay here.” Just voicing that caused a sense of peace to sweep over me.
“We’ve been here four days,” Nichelle said. “That’s not enough for you? So how long are you going to stay? And don’t you have to get back to work?”
I shrugged. “Yes, I have to get back to work, and maybe forever. Maybe I’ll stay down here forever.”
“Aja, don’t be ridiculous,” Roxie said.
“Yeah, I know we had a good time and all, but you can’t just stay on the island throwing back shots. Our reservation is up today,” Nichelle said.
“I’m going to call down now and extend it. And if they can’t give me this suite, that’s okay. I don’t need all this room anyway. I’ll move to another room.”
“Okay,” Roxie said, sliding in the seat across from me. “Tell me what’s going on. Why are you trying to stay in the DR? You’re not ready to go home?”
I sighed. “No, it’s not that. It’s just that . . . remember that old lady?”
Roxie frowned. “What old lady?”
“Oh no,” Nichelle said before I could further explain. “She’s talking about the lady I just told you about. The one with the rocks and the paintings.”
“Yeah, well, she talked to me,” I said.
“She’s creepy and crazy,” Nichelle said. “You let that old quack get in your head?”
“It’s not that.” I shook my head. “Look, even you, Roxie, kept asking me what was wrong on this trip.”
Roxie frowned.
“Remember when we were at the club the other night?” I said. “You kept asking me what was wrong. I knew it was something, I just didn’t know what. But I know it for sure now.”
“You know it because of the old lady?” Simone asked.
I nodded. “She told me that I wasn’t walking in my purpose. And that’s it in a nutshell. I’m not doing what I was put on this earth to do.”
“Oh, Lawd,” Simone and Nichelle sang together, though Roxie just kept her eyes focused on me.
“She asked me if I was happy. And if I had answered her truthfully, I would’ve told her that I wasn’t happy.”
“What in the world does happiness have to do with adulting?” Nichelle asked.
“You’re not happy about what?” Simone added.
“I’m not happy about anything. Because Charles made the choice not to have a lot of guy friends, outside of work it’s like I’m his everything, and sometimes it’s just too much.”
“Wow, you’re bothered because your man wants to be with you instead of running the streets?” Simone asked.
I exhaled my exasperation. “My life just doesn’t feel like my own. I feel like I’m suffocating under the weight of all those I love.”
“Shoot, aren’t we all?” Simone said. “That’s what happens when you grow up. But what are we supposed to do about that? Go back to when we ran the streets?”
“No. I’m too old for that,” I said. “But there’s got to be more to life than this. I mean, does the fact that we become wives and mothers mean that our dreams have to be put on the back burner? Or die altogether?”
“I don’t understand. Charles supports your dreams,” Roxie said. “Remember, he bought your first painting.”
“In 1999,” I replied. That had been one of the things that had made me fall in love with Charles. When we dated, he took such interest in my passion. He’d been the anonymous donor who had paid $500 for my very first painting. He’d won my heart—then put my painting in a closet, told me that all he wanted now was for me to be his wife and bear his kids. And that’s exactly what I did.
I was ready to take my paintings out of the closet.
“I work. I take care of the kids. I work. I take care of a husband. Day in and day out. That’s my life.” I paused, looking at them as if I was pleading for their understanding. “I want to do something I love, something that gives me joy right here,” I said, tapping my heart.
“Girl, you’re tripping, for real,” Nichelle said. “You still paint.”
“But not like I want,” I protested. “I was going to the ‘Living Your Best Life’ conference because I know there’s more to life and I’m just trying to figure out what that is. I wanted to find a way to center my joy and it’s like that dream was derailed because of my family.”
“So is this about you mi
ssing the conference?” Roxie asked. “You’re still mad about that?”
“It’s deeper than that,” I replied. I was getting frustrated. It’s not that I expected them to understand. No one ever did. Not my parents, who pushed me in a different direction whenever I wanted to paint. Not the guidance counselor, who made me change my major. And not my family, who kept relegating my painting to hobby status.
“I have a gift that I’ve just been sitting on,” I said.
Nichelle threw up her hands. “Y’all’s friend has been watching too many SuperSoul Sunday episodes.”
“Okay, maybe if you take some painting classes, you’ll feel better, since that’s what you love,” Roxie said.
“Ooh, go paint some nude men.” Nichelle waved her hand in the air and I was sure she was about to break out into a dance again.
Simone giggled. “I bet that would make you happy.”
Roxie cut her eyes at Simone and Nichelle before she turned back to me. “Aja, I understand you feeling some kind of way right now, but you don’t go visit another country and just up and decide to stay there.”
I stood and started pacing the length of the dining table where just an hour ago, we’d been laughing and reminiscing about our trip. I didn’t expect my girls to agree with my decision, but I at least thought they’d understand. “Look, I just have to stay so that I can figure some things out.”
“Aja, this isn’t making any sense,” Roxie said. “You can’t figure out what’s going on in your own home, in your own bed, with your own husband?”
Before I could say a word, Nichelle sang out, “Ooohhh! I know what this is about.” There was a glare in her eyes, but a smile on her lips when she pointed her finger at me. “You ain’t fooling anyone.”
All three of us frowned at Nichelle.
She said, “You slipped out and hooked up with some DR cutie, didn’t you?” She nodded. “Uh-uh. That’s where you went this morning. And it was probably that guy you were dancing with at the club all night. The one that looked like Marc Anthony. What did you do? Did you sneak out and go to his place?” She bobbed her head again. “Yeah, that’s what happened. He rocked your groove and now you’re ready to change your name to Stella.”
Now Roxie wasn’t the only one to roll her eyes at Nichelle. “No one has rocked my groove, whatever that means. I didn’t even get that guy’s name or number.”
“Well, you should have,” Simone said. “He was super-fine.”
“No. She shouldn’t have,” Roxie said. She kept her eyes on me. “Because she has a husband who loves her like her life depends on it. She has a love people pray for.”
“And,” I continued, ignoring Roxie, “I would never make a decision like this over some guy.”
“But, Aja—” Roxie began.
I interrupted her. “I just need some quiet time to get my head together. Maybe it took turning forty-five to make me realize that I need something more.” I popped back down in my seat.
“We’re all forty-five,” Roxie said.
“Speak for yourself,” Nichelle said. “I’m thirty-five. Aging backward. And it’s all because of shots.”
“Okay, Benjamin Button,” Simone said. “And by the way, I’m forty-four, don’t make me any older,” she added.
“Whatever,” Roxie said. “The point is, that’s why we came on vacation. To get rejuvenated.”
I stared into the faces of my friends. “Have any of you ever stopped to think, what if there’s more to life than what we’re doing?”
Roxie stood, circled around the table, then bent down in front of me. She took my hands. “Sweetie, I know we all get bored sometimes, but look at your life. You have a good life. No, let me correct that. You have an amazing life. With a husband and children who love you. Think about what Charles did for you for your birthday. We’re all here because of him. He’s wonderful.”
I snatched my hands away from her grasp. “I know! Charles is so wonderful. He’s Denzel, Idris, and George Clooney rolled up into one.”
“No, Clooney cheated on his wife,” Simone said. “We don’t want him to be Clooney.”
“That’s not the point,” I huffed. “I know how perfect my life is. The perfect husband, the perfect kids, the perfect everything. Well, what’s not perfect is me. That’s what I discovered on this trip. All is well on the home front, except with me.”
“Do you know how many women would love to trade places with you?” Simone said, her mood completely shifting as my words settled in. There was such sadness in her voice, and I knew where that came from. And if I was in a different place, I would have stopped this conversation and hugged her. And prayed for her, because I knew her divorce was breaking her heart. She continued, “So many women would love to have a husband who adores them the way Charles adores you.”
“That’s part of the problem,” I said, almost wishing we could focus on Simone’s problems and not mine. “Everyone acts like I should be so grateful to have Charles. I love him dearly, but he’s just as lucky to have me as I am to have him.”
“Honey, no one is saying that you should be grateful. It’s just hard to understand what you’re feeling because of what you do have in your life,” Roxie said.
“And this isn’t making sense to us,” Nichelle added.
“I get that. Because I don’t completely understand it myself. If I did, I’d be able to explain it better to you.” I sighed. “All I know is I need to stay and figure it all out.”
The way my girls looked at me, then at each other, I knew that they heard me. Finally. Thank God.
“Fine, Aja,” Simone said. “Ladies, we need to get rolling or we’ll all be here with Aja.”
“How long are you going to stay here?” Roxie asked.
I shrugged.
“I have a bunch of vacation days, plus I can take some personal leave for as long as it takes.”
Simone shook her head as she walked over and hugged me. “Okay. Call us daily and let us know what’s going on.”
“I will. I promise,” I replied.
Nichelle stepped toward me, reached in the messenger bag draped across her body and pulled out a travel-sized bottle of tequila.
“Here. This will help you clear your head while you’re here.”
I managed a laugh. “I’m good. Plus, I’m sure you’ll need it for the plane.”
She thought for a moment, then dropped the bottle back into her bag. “You sho right.”
Nichelle hugged me, too, then moved aside as Roxie stood, looking like she wanted to cry.
“Are you sure about this?” she asked me. “You being here alone worries me. Maybe I should stay with you.”
I hugged her. “Thank you, but no. I need quiet time to think.”
“Fine.” She sighed, then headed toward the door. “Call me tonight.”
I watched as my friends reluctantly left, and then a silence blanketed the room leaving me with nothing but my thoughts.
Chapter 6
The silence engulfed me, and the magnitude of what I’d done felt like a boulder on my shoulders. But at the same time, it felt freeing. I’d gone against the grain, done the unexpected, and it felt exhilarating.
I was settled in a smaller hotel room, a single unit, rather than a three-bedroom suite. The bellman had looked at me with trepidation when he’d come back up to move my bags. His narrowed eyes, sideward glance, and pursed lips told me he thought I was up to no good. I guess even the help couldn’t understand my decision.
My girls had texted and called until their plane took off an hour ago. And then I received the text that I’d been dreading. From Charles: Can’t wait to see you! That had sent a pang through my heart. He was an understanding man, but how would he ever be able to understand this when I couldn’t understand it myself?
It would have been much easier to wait a few more hours, build up some fortitude, and then wait for Charles to call me when he realized I wasn’t on that plane. But I couldn’t do that to him. He deserved more from me.
Leaning back on the bed, I pulled out my cell phone from my purse, scrolled to my Favorites, and stared at my husband’s photo for a moment. Even in the thumbnail picture, his personality beamed through—the grin on his lips, the gleam in his eyes, his sexy, masculine cheekbones. I sighed as I pressed the photo, then listened for the few seconds of silence as the international connection went through. With each passing moment, my heart pounded harder.
Charles gave me no extra time to prepare; he answered on the first ring.
“Well, if it isn’t the love of my life.” I heard his smile. “Wait. Shouldn’t you still be in the air? Or did you all land early?”
Tossing my legs over the side of the bed, I stood. This was going to be one of those “I need to move” conversations. I paced from my bed to the door, then back, wishing I had the space of the luxury suite where I’d spent the last four days.
“Hi, babe, how are you?”
“I’ll be better when you get here. I’m so glad you had this birthday celebration, but we’ve missed you and can’t wait to see you.”
I stopped moving and had to resist the urge to roll my eyes. Since she’d been home from school, Anika had been spending all of her time hanging with friends. Kelli had gone on to her father’s and Anika was constantly on the go. I doubted if she spent two waking hours a day at home. And Eric was the same. He had a girlfriend now and he spent all of his free time with her. He’d returned to school for basketball practice the same day I left. No, it wasn’t the kids who missed me.
“We? The kids are both off doing their thing and your mother, well . . .” My stomach churned at the mention of his mother.
Charles chuckled. “Okay, me and the dog missed you. Bailey doesn’t even want to come out of her kennel because she wants you to come home. So what time will you be here? Do you have your baggage yet?”
He didn’t even realize that my plane wasn’t due to land for another hour and a half. So, he hadn’t figured anything out yet. I inhaled. Exhaled. Prayed that my husband would be understanding. “So, sweetie, I’m, ah . . . I’m not on the plane.”
“Oh.” He paused and I imagined him trying to figure this out. “What? The plane was delayed?”
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