The Deal, the Dance, and the Devil (13 page)

“Because you had enough on your mind. Why waste a conversation about something that was never going to happen?”

He nodded, like he agreed. But his eyes … he squinted, as if he was contemplating something deep. He said, “I still wish you’d told me.”

“Telling you wasn’t going to change anything. Whether I told you or not, the answer was going to be the same.” I paused. “Right?”

“Of course, Shine. We don’t need money like that.” Again, he reached for the button to the heater. Pushed it until it was back on high. He exhaled before he asked, “After that … do you think you can keep working for her?” His eyes were on the building where I spent my days with Shay-Shaunté.

I shrugged. “Do I have a choice?”

At first, he frowned, as if he didn’t understand my words. But then he remembered our predicament, realized my dilemma.

“I’m gonna get this job,” he said, his voice now strong, now steady. “As soon as I do, you can quit the next day.”

“Okay.”

“I don’t even want you giving her two weeks’ notice. I want you out of there!”

“Okay.”

He reached for my hand and gave me a squeeze that was meant to be reassuring. But it was hard to feel comforted when I felt his sweaty palms. He said, “I’m sorry you have to keep working here, but it won’t be for much longer.”

“I’m cool. I can handle Shay-Shaunté.”

“I know you can.” He hugged me and we were back to being Adam and Evia.

“I have to get back in there,” I said.

Adam twisted in his seat and kissed me, but not his ordinary send-me-back-to-work peck on the lips. This was a full-on assault—a kiss that was filled with tongue and passion. A kiss with something to prove.

I pulled back, breathless. Waited for him to give me an explanation. He said nothing.

“What are you thinking?” I asked.

His cell phone rang and freed him from responding. “Hello.”

The excitement in his eyes, now in his voice, nudged aside the tension that had joined us in the car.

“Yes, yes, Mr. Yearwood,” Adam said. “Yes. Definitely, just tell me when.” A pause. “Thank you. Thank you.” He ended the call. “I told you this was gonna work out.” He laughed like a kid. “That was American Express. They want me to come in next Monday—for the third and final interview.”

“That’s great, baby!”

The call and that news eased the tightness that had taken over my body. Still, I wondered—what was Adam thinking before he took that call?

But right there I decided that some questions were best left without answers.

Chapter 18

I
T WAS THE BEST OF NIGHTS,
and now it was the best of mornings. At least for me and Adam. Alexa still moped around as if her father had lost his job just to make her life miserable, and even though Alana and Ethan wore happy faces, their smiles were strained beneath their new burdens.

Except for the sizzle of the frying turkey bacon and the scraping of forks against their plates, a somber silence hung over the kitchen. But I smiled, and hoped that the children could feel my newfound joy.

I wanted to tell them so badly about their father’s upcoming job interview. But Adam and I had decided that there would be no more family talks, not until we could give our children more than hope.

The front door slammed, and after a few seconds, Adam strutted into the kitchen. “Good morning, everyone!” he said, full of cheer, as if this morning was an occasion to be celebrated.

“Morning, Daddy,” Alana and Ethan said at the same time.

Alexa’s greeting was simply a grunt.

I rolled my eyes at my daughter.

“How is everybody this morning?” Adam shrugged off his jacket, then laid the dry cleaning that he’d just picked up across one of the barstools.

“Fine.” Again, just two of our children spoke.

Adam didn’t seem to notice, though. With two giant steps, he was behind me with his arms wrapped around my waist. He swayed as if he heard music and guided my hips to his rhythm.

Leaning back into his embrace, I multitasked—did the little hip salsa with my husband and flipped over the bacon at the same time. He held me as if he wanted me to remember last night—our lovemaking, filled with more pleasure than urgency this time. We were close to the end of our tunnel, and we could make love freely now, just because we were in love and nothing else.

When Adam nuzzled his lips against my neck, I said, “You’d better let me take care of this breakfast or else you’re gonna have some seriously burnt bacon.”

“And if you burn it,” he whispered seductively, “what are you going to do to make it up to me?”

I grinned. Years and years of marriage and the magic was still there, always there, forever there.

“Hmmm,” I hummed and glanced at the clock. Would I have enough time between getting the children off and having to leave myself?

And then …

“Mom!”

Alexa’s scream was so startling that I dropped the fork to the floor. Shifting the pan to the other side of the stove, I swung around quickly, as Alana and Ethan began shouting, too.

With wide eyes, they yelled and pointed toward the window. I didn’t understand a word they were screaming, but Adam must have, because with just a few steps, he pounced from the kitchen, through the foyer, and out the front door. I rushed behind him, and our children trailed me.

“Hey!” Adam yelled to the two men who were hitching the bumper of the SUV to their tow truck. “What are you doing?”

“Sorry, dawg,” the black guy said. “We’re just doing our job.”

“But, but …”

I couldn’t hear more of Adam’s words because behind me gibberish filled the air. A few words came through the wails: “Mom!” “Why?” “What?”

With shaky hands, I pushed the children back into the house so that they wouldn’t be traumatized by the sight that was shocking enough to me.

“Go back into the kitchen,” I demanded. “Finish your breakfast.”

Not that I really thought they would listen. They half obeyed, moving from the door to the window, where they pressed their faces against the glass.

As I stepped outside, I folded my arms across my chest to fight the biting wind. If I’d had any sense or any time, I would’ve grabbed my coat, but by that time, our Escalade might be gone.

Standing behind Adam, all I heard now were his pleas. “Please,” he kept saying. “I can make a payment.”

The two men stopped and hunched their shoulders in unison. “We can’t take your money. Take it up with the bank.” They returned to their business.

Looking down our driveway, I noticed the sudden traffic jam. It was only three cars, but there were only six homes on this cul-de-sac. The cars rolled by slowly—first the Jaguar, then
the BMW, and finally the Mercedes. I could feel my neighbors’ curious eyes, their wonder about the bright red tow truck with bold, yellow block letters: Quik-Repo.

There was no need for us to watch them take our car away, though that seemed to be Adam’s plan until I took his hand. His fingers were as stiff with cold as mine were, and we rushed back inside. There we had a new confrontation.

“Why did they take our car?” Ethan asked.

“Because they were repo guys,” Alexa said as if she knew everything. “I saw it on television. There’s this show and they take cars and boats and planes from people who don’t pay when they’re supposed to.”

If this wasn’t happening to my family, I would’ve asked Alexa more about that show. Really? They didn’t have anything better to do with thirty minutes than to video people in the middle of their misery?

“There’s nothing for you to worry about,” Adam said, his strong voice back.

“We have to be worried,” Alexa cried. “Our car was just taken away from us!”

The veins behind my eyes throbbed; my headache came quick, came hard.

“What’s happening to our lives?” Alexa sobbed more, increasing the pain in my head. Dramatically, she threw her hand up to her forehead.

I swear, if she fell out on the floor, I was going to tell everyone to leave her right there.

Adam said, “We’re gonna get the car back.”

“But when?” Still Alexa. Still drama.

“In a few days. Maybe a week.”

Why was he lying like that? He was going to have to tell them another lie next week.

“But how do you know they’ll give it back?” asked Alana.
She questioned Adam hesitantly, as if she wanted to be careful with her father and his feelings.

“They will. And if they don’t, we’ll get a new one.”

“But we don’t have any money,” Ethan said sadly.

I wanted to scoop all my children—well, at least two of them—into my arms and cover their eyes and ears until all of this was over. But I stood next to Adam, supporting him as he consoled them.

“We have money, Ethan,” Adam said. Then he took a long breath as if he needed a lot of air to say the next words. “And what’s better is … I got that job.”

Those words surprised our children. Those words stunned me.

“You did?” the three sang together.

I stepped away, not wanting to stand beside him anymore. I leaned against the wall and crossed my arms. No one believed in positive thinking more than me, and truthfully, I really believed that Adam would get this job.

But was I ready to dance a jig? No. Was I ready to write some checks? No. Was I ready to tell the children? No! Because until Adam had the offer letter, he didn’t have a job. And if he didn’t have a job, what he was saying now was a straight-up lie.

“You have … like a real job?” Alexa asked, her sobs, her tears, miraculously gone.

“Why didn’t you tell us?” This time, it was Alana who had the question.

“Because your mother and I … we wanted to wait … until we could have a celebration.”

“That’s wonderful, Daddy!” Alana said, and she and Alexa hugged Adam together. A couple of seconds later, they made room for Ethan—a group hug that didn’t include me.

“Isn’t this great, Mom?” Alana asked, as if she was measuring my reaction.

“Yeah, it is,” I said with a smile on my face, but not in my voice. “Okay, guys.” I really wanted to rush them along now. “Get your stuff. You gotta catch the van.”

The three scattered, gathering their bags and lunches while I stayed where I was. As if he knew that I wasn’t pleased, Adam helped the children, and within minutes, there were hugs and good-bye kisses, and they were out the door.

Now alone, Adam had to face me.

He held up his hands, stopping me before I even began. “I know what you’re thinking. I didn’t want them to go to school worried.”

“So, lying was better?”

“At least they don’t have to sit in school all day and think about what they saw.”

That made sense, but still.

Adam said, “It’s not going to be an issue, because it’s really not a lie. Mr. Yearwood said this last interview is a formality.” He paused and took me into his arms. “Don’t worry,” he said.

I nodded as he kissed my forehead. “Well, I guess you’ll have to take me to work,” I said.

“Not a problem.”

“Okay, let me shower and get dressed. I’ll be ready in thirty.”

He swatted my butt as I passed him. His kiss, his touch were meant to be reassuring. But the peace I’d felt since yesterday was gone. Maybe it was the lie he’d told. Maybe it was the stress of the repossession. Whatever it was, every good feeling I’d had had been replaced by one heck of a headache.

Chapter 19

T
HE SPREADSHEET THAT
I’
D TAKEN FROM
Adam’s desk this morning was laid out in front of me. He’d always shared the reality of our finances with me, just like he had with the children. And from the very beginning, that reality had filled me with fears.

“We’re spending too much,” I’d said when we’d moved straight from an apartment to a home that came with a four-thousand-dollar monthly mortgage.

“We deserve this,” had been Adam’s reply. “We work too hard.”

My concerns had continued to be overlooked when we’d purchased top-of-the-line cars or clothes that could’ve been bought in discount outlets.

“We’re not in that place anymore, Shine,” Adam would say when I would tell him that we didn’t always have to shop in the most expensive stores.

He’d been right. We weren’t in Barry Farm anymore, and
neither one of us had wanted to backslide into the chasm of poverty where dinner was the same bowl of cereal as breakfast, where utilities were considered a luxury, and hopelessness and defeat hovered over the entire community.

But those memories of our shared history had had totally different effects on us.

Adam wanted to put space between his past and his present by acquiring all the things we’d never had so that he wouldn’t remember.

My plan was to save, save, save because I could never forget.

But Adam was the one who worked hardest for the money. He was the head of our household, and I deferred to him.

Truthfully, there were many expenses that were difficult for me to challenge. When Adam decided that our children would attend the Ritz-Koster Academy, one of the most expensive schools in D.C., I didn’t say a word. I didn’t want to skimp on their schooling, and I also knew that any objection I had would go unheeded by Adam, whose top priority for our children was education.

Then when he announced that Ruby would have a room at Pearly Gates Estates, I certainly couldn’t speak up. How could I complain about my mother-in-love having the best of care?

But our commitment to upward mobility had cost us big-time. Even with our income, after the huge fixed expenses we were left with a bit over two thousand a month to take care of school loans, and car insurance, and utilities, and telephones, and cable and groceries and … and … and. Not to mention anything that the children needed—or, if they went to their father, anything the children wanted. In truth, it was amazing that we actually did have some savings, though that meager stash had only lasted three months after Adam’s six-month severance had ended.

My heart and my head were pounding. “We cannot ever be
back in this place,” I made a soft vow. “No matter what we had to do.”

A knock interrupted my thoughts, but before I could tell Rachel to come in, the door opened and Shay-Shaunté peeked inside.