The Deal, the Dance, and the Devil (11 page)

The Millers driving by reminded me and Adam that we were on the edge of our garage, in the middle of a Sunday afternoon, airing our business for every neighbor to hear.

I marched behind Adam into the mudroom.

“Look,” he began once we were out of the sight and sound of the street. Calmer, he said, “I understand that you’re worried, but how many times do I have to tell you that it’ll all work out?”

“And how many times do I have to make
my
point?” I wanted to stomp my feet and throw a tantrum. I would have if I’d thought that would make Adam listen.

He said, “When I get this job with American Express …”

“
If
you get this job.”

That made his head jerk back a bit. “When did we start talking about our life in terms of ifs?”

“Since you lost your job.” I blew out a long breath that was meant to cool me down, but I wasn’t backing down. “Since we’ve struggled to pay every bill. Since we’ve been hiding what we’re going through.”

“Because of that you’ve lost your faith?”

He had to be kidding me. Adam said I wasn’t listening to him; what about him hearing me? “I haven’t lost anything, including my ability to face facts. And the fact is that between our mortgage, the children’s tuition, your mother’s care, and my family’s drama, along with everything else, we have twenty thousand dollars a month in bills and less than four thousand in income. That’s the fact, and faith isn’t going to change those numbers.”

He lowered his head as if my words made him sad. “This is exactly why I didn’t want you involved. You’re emotional and I
don’t need that; it’s distracting. Just stay out of this, Shine. Let me handle our business.”

He spoke as if he was the genius and I was the fool. And because I didn’t want to go off and
act
the fool, I just glared at him as I stuffed my hands into my purse and yanked out the keys. I was inside the Kia and edging out of the garage before Adam could blink twice.

If he wanted to handle it, then fine. I just wondered how he was going to answer our children when they asked him, “Daddy, how did we end up in hell?”

Chapter 14

T
HE SMART THING FOR ME TO
do would’ve been to call Tamica. Because with her good sense (when it came to other people) she would’ve listened, then told me to get my butt back to my perfect home and work it out with my perfect husband.

But since I wasn’t looking to hear anything good about Adam right now, I called Brooklyn.

“Where are you?” I asked the moment she answered the phone.

“At church.”

“Still?”

“Yeah, I’m putting the final touches on the proposal for the expansion of the homeless shelter.”

For all the bad press about Brooklyn and Cash being nothing but prosperity prophets and pulpit pimps, there was nothing you could say about their hearts and their commitment to the underdog, the underprivileged, and the underrepresented. From the church-affiliated homeless shelter that
fed and clothed many in the neighborhood, to the political meetings Bishop Cash sponsored for politicians to answer to his congregation, to setting up the church as a cooling center in the summers for those who couldn’t afford air-conditioning, Cash and Brooklyn were all about the people.

“What’s up?” Brooklyn asked, breaking into my thoughts.

I sighed as I rolled through the streets of D.C., heading toward the church.

“Uh-oh,” Brooklyn said. Our thirty-year friendship was the reason my sigh said more to my friend than any words could. “It’s not Ms. Ruby, is it?”

“No; right about now, my mother-in-love is doing one hundred times better than I am.”

She was waiting for me to say more, and when I didn’t, it was Brooklyn’s turn to sigh. “Are you gonna tell me what’s going on, or am I gonna have to beg for an hour to get it out of you?”

“Well, I’m on my way over there.”

“Okay, but if you need me to start listening now, I’m ready,” she said. “It’s up to you.”

The pressure, the stress, these fights with Adam were gurgling inside me. I was fifteen minutes from the church, but I needed to vent … now.

Since Brooklyn already knew about Adam’s job, I started from there and told her the rest. She was pretty much silent on the other end, releasing only one “Umph” when I got to the part about all our savings being gone.

By the time my soliloquy was over, Brooklyn knew the whole truth and I was parked in front of the church. To finish up, I said, “Now, my husband, Adam Langston, the stand-up, all-American citizen, has just written a check that’s gonna bounce all the way to Detroit.” I stepped from the car, eager to see my friend and hear what she had to say.

Her first words were, “Oh, no. Not Detroit! Do they still have banks there?”

I froze, stopping halfway between my car and the front door of the church. I’d just laid out my heart and my life, and Brooklyn thought this was a joke? “This isn’t funny,” I snapped, doing an about-face and sliding right back into my car.

“I know, honey,” Brooklyn said so sincerely that I felt bad for jumping on her like that. But still I stayed behind the wheel of the Kia. She said, “I was trying to lighten it up a bit, ’cause it sure got heavy.” Now serious, she said, “So if Adam gets this job with American Express, none of this will be an issue, right?”

“In this economy, with the number of people looking for work, what do you think his chances are?”

“I don’t know. But you have to have some hope to hold on to, right?”

“Hope doesn’t pay the bills.”

“Okay …” Then, when Brooklyn paused, I knew what was coming. I clenched my teeth and aimed the key for the ignition, because if she said it, I was out of there.

“Then I guess that just leaves Shay-Shaunté’s offer.”

I revved up the engine and screamed at the same time, hoping I’d busted one of her eardrums. “I already told you … that is not an option.”

“If you’re talking about hope, five million dollars can buy you a lot of that,” she persisted. “I take it that you still haven’t said a word to Adam.”

“Why do you keep harping on this?” I took a deep breath and spoke slowly. “I’m not telling Adam, okay?”

Brooklyn was quiet, as if she was studying my words. “I’m not saying do it; I’m saying give Adam a chance to help you decide.”

Okay, Brooklyn was my girl, but this chick wasn’t getting it.
So, since I was tired of repeating myself, I didn’t say anything; I just edged my car away from the church.

“What are you afraid of, Evia?”

“I’m not afraid of a daggone thing!” Then I wondered, why
didn’t
I want to tell Adam? I mean, he would agree with me totally … right?

The church was in my rearview mirror when I said, “Listen, Brooklyn, I’ll talk to you later.”

“I thought you were on your way.”

“I was.”

“Evia, I know you don’t want to hear—”

She was right about that, ’cause I pressed End before I could hear another word from her. But even though I hung up on my friend, I could still hear her voice.

“What are you afraid of, Evia?”

I wasn’t afraid. It was just that if we weren’t going to do it, why bring up Shay-Shaunté’s ridiculous offer?

But inside that Kia, by myself, with the silence ringing in my ears and Brooklyn’s words in my head, my heart spoke the truth. I couldn’t say a word to Adam because what would I do if Adam said yes? What would I say if my husband agreed to sleep with another woman?

Because that’s how I saw this—Shay-Shaunté’s offer was only about sex … it didn’t have a doggone thing to do with money.

At the red light, I stopped and sighed. No, Adam would never agree to this. Not the man who’d loved me since I was twelve, who’d married me just a week after our high school graduation and spoken words that day that not even the best Hallmark cards could match …

The room designated for civil marriages in the Superior Court was small and stuffy, but we all piled in. It was Friday—we had the three o’clock appointment and the clerk had just called us for our turn.

Adam and I entered the room ahead of everyone else, and a man who was as wide as he was tall, motioned for us to hurry forward.

“Evia Evans and Adam Langston?” He said our names as if he was asking a question. “You two are pretty young, aren’t you?”

“Yes,” Adam spoke for us. “But we have our parents’ permission.”

Both of us turned to acknowledge our families. Our mothers stood side-by-side for the first time ever, each holding one of the twins. Behind them were Cashmere and Twin. Even though my fourteen-year-old sister and twelve-year-old brother had to be dragged here, I was happy that Marilyn had forced them. Today, we were becoming one, and I wanted everyone here with me to make it complete.

“Well, let’s get this started,” the man said wearily, as if he’d been marrying folks all day and he was just plain tired of it. He jumped right in, “We have come together today, in a community of love, to support the union of Evia Evans and Adam Langston.”

I had to admit, this was nothing like the wedding I’d imagined when I was a little girl and Tamica and I used to dream. (Brooklyn never played the wedding day game with us because she said all men were dogs.)

But even though I was wearing a yellow shift and not a flowing white gown, and there were only six guests (if I counted the twins) and not the two hundred people I’d planned to invite—I was still the happiest girl on earth.

“We celebrate this occasion which is both solemn and joyful—”

“Wait!” Adam said.

I became statue-still.

Oh, my God! He had changed his mind. He didn’t love me.
Or maybe he couldn’t stand the thought of being related to Marilyn, Cashmere, and Twin.

Behind me, my mother grumbled, but I didn’t care what she had to say. I just started begging God.

Adam said, “Do we have to do those same old tired words that you say for everybody?”

The man looked stumped. “Well … I guess not … this is a civil ceremony … and there are no rules …”

“Well, this is what I want to do,” Adam said, taking charge. “I have something I want to say to Evia, then we can just put the rings on our fingers and get on up out of here.”

“Oh … kay,” the man said, shutting the worn book he held.

“With a nod,” Adam turned to me. “Evia, this is not the way we planned this, but it is still part of our plan. Our plan to be together, forever. I loved you when we were twelve and I will love you when we’re one hundred and twelve.”

Behind us, my brother cracked up, like Adam was telling jokes. But if Adam heard him, he didn’t show it; he just kept on going.

He took my hand. “In front of God, my mother, your mother, your sister and brother, and,” he paused before he said, “our beautiful daughters, I promise that I will love you and only you, forever. And, I mean that in every way. You are and will always be the only woman I will love physically, mentally, spiritually. I will go to my grave with you being the only woman I’ve ever loved or made love to. The only woman who will always have my heart.”

I melted.

He kept on, “The best way I know to honor God is to love and cherish you, Evia Langston.”

The court clerk coughed. “Um … she’s not Evia
Langston
yet.”

Everyone laughed, except for me.

I couldn’t laugh—I could barely stand. From the time Adam started talking, I was done. I was seventeen and already knew what it was like to be loved completely …

It was on our wedding night that Adam had called me Shine for the first time, because he’d said his life had a whole new light.

No, the man who’d spoken those words on that day would not want anything to do with Shay-Shaunté’s deal.

That was my truth and that’s what I told myself, all the way home.

Chapter 15

B
EFORE
I
HAD A CHANCE TO
step all the way inside my house, my mini-me was at the door.

“Mom!” Alana hugged me as if she was relieved to see me. “Where’ve you been?”

“Whoa,” I said, wrapping my arms around her. “I was just gone for a little while. I had to do something with your aunt Brooklyn.”

“Oh. ’Cause Daddy wants to hold a family meeting.” She lowered her voice. “We thought the meeting was gonna be about you.”

I laughed. Okay, I saw what was going on. After we’d come home, my girls had probably gone up to their rooms, sat, wondered, discussed, and then figured out—or thought they’d figured out—what had gone down with me and Adam. With Alexa’s drama-filled mind and Alana’s sensitive one, the twins had taken anything they’d heard much too seriously—which I understood,
because our children rarely saw us fight. So, they’d conjured up something like me leaving home and moving to Mexico.

“Well, if your dad wants to have a meeting, it’s not about me.”

I knew Adam was behind me before he even spoke. “No, it’s not about you.” When I faced him, he added, “This is a meeting about all of us.”

One side of Adam’s mouth twisted upward—half a smile, a full apology. He said, “It’s time we talk to the children.”

“Mom! You’re home!” Alexa bounced down the stairs, her tone filled with the same surprise as Alana’s.

Adam directed the girls into the living room, then called for Ethan. We all settled into our regular places—Alana resting on the edge of my chair, Alexa sitting at Adam’s feet, and Ethan stretched out in the middle of the floor halfway between me and Adam.

Alexa spoke first. “Is this about our party?”

Now that I was home, all of Alexa’s concerns had turned back to where they always were—to Alexa.

Adam’s eyes met mine, and with a smile and a nod, I told him that I was with him.

He said, “Well, something about the party, but not the party alone.” He took a breath. “You know, I’ve always talked to you guys about what’s going on in our family because being a member comes with responsibilities.”

The twins sat, their eyes on their dad, but the way Ethan was lying so still, I wondered if he’d fallen asleep.

“Well, some things have happened. … Now, I don’t want you to worry … but the company I worked for moved its operations to Japan.”