A Good Man (15 page)

And if it’s live … How indeed?

Kim yawned loudly. “I am so sleepy.”

“I am, too,” Sonya said. “It has to be the jet lag. Why don’t you turn in early?”

“I’m already in the bed. There’s nothing on TV tonight. No offense.”

Sonya turned off her TV. “I know it. Call me tomorrow?” “You might be taping.”

“Call or text me anyway.”

“Okay.”

I wish she were here. “Make sure your door and windows are locked.”

“I already did. Good night.”

Sonya took one last look outside. Four members of the Crew filled the spa, water spilling over the edge, every one of them with a beer or a tumbler in his hand, two smoking cigarettes, one a cigar, all of them laughing and smiling. Four others, including Justin, had a card game going on one of the tables. Looks like Spades. Fun. She didn’t see the other four members of her list, but that was just as well.

I guess I’m really here now, she thought. I’m a princess in her castle.

She frowned at her TV. And when I’m not on TV, there’s nothing on TV. What’s up with that?

John unpacked, hanging up as much as he could in the only closet. Both Aaron and Justin, his suitemates, had a lot of clothes.

Enough for several months, John thought. I’ll have to do laundry in four days.

He entered the bathroom and found no room on the counter for his shave kit.

They have turned our bathroom into a Walgreens.

He picked up and read labels. Matifiant Shine Rescue? What does it do? Oh. It eliminates shiny skin and gives skin a “matte” finish. Who wants to look like a photograph? Fonteint Hydrating Enhancer? What does this do? It eliminates redness. I might sneak some of this stuff. I seem to have a natural knack for embarrassing myself. Cover Select Liquid Corrector, which reduces circles under the eyes. He looked in the mirror at the circles under his own eyes. Nothing will help those circles except sleep.

He squinted at Alpha Hydrox, Kiehl’s Line-Reducing Concentrate, Paula’s Choice, and MD Forte. He sniffed the top of Marvis Aquatic Mint Toothpaste. Made in Italy? Imported toothpaste? And what’s this? Supersmile Whitening Accelerator? Geez, just go to a dentist twice a year. Michel Germain séxûal pour homme deodorant? Liebling deodorant, which contains lemon balm, peppermint, lime extract, and propolis. What’s propolis? And where are the American colognes?

A Braun Oral-B Interclean Ultra System electric toothbrush and a Philishave 8000 Series Aquagenic Sensotec shaver were plugged into the only two outlets. Whatever happened to simply using water and an Oral-B to brush your teeth? Whatever happened to using a razor and some shaving cream to shave your face?

He looked at but didn’t sniff the Roger & Gallet Extra-Vielle Cologne or the Creed Green Irish Tweed cologne. The names barely fit on the bottles.

Stacked in every other available space were vitamin supplements, none familiar to John. L-carnitine was touted for building lean muscle mass and increasing sperm count. “May cause nausea, vomiting, cramps, and diarrhea.” How can you please your lady if you’re in the bathroom all night? Casein protein powder was supposed to build muscle mass. “May cause rashes, cramps, bloating, and hives.” Hey, look at the muscular hives on that guy’s arms. Vitamin Q10, a disease-fighting antioxidant, “might cause dizziness, loss of appetite, sensitivity to light, irritability, headache, heartburn, fatigue, and insomnia.” The good news is that you don’t have any diseases. The bad news is that you can’t stand, eat, see, think, exercise, or sleep. Selenium was reputedly good for healthy eyes and hair. So if you have an eyelash stuck in your eye, rest assured that both are healthy.

John shook his head while he snooped. They even have real leather shave kits with a dozen compartments full of tweezers, clippers, combs, emery boards, and brushes. Vanity, vanity, all is vanity on this vanity.

He looked into his own black vinyl shave kit. He sighed at the Old Spice deodorant, cologne, and shaving cream. He frowned at the Crest toothpaste, disposable razors, Oral-B toothbrush, and One A Day vitamins. Y’all are out of place here.

And so, apparently, am I.

He made a pyramid out of the supplements to give himself more space on the counter, then shaved, showered, and changed into a pair of threadbare sweats and a University of Alabama sweatshirt. He heard the thump and drone of hip-hop music below him, wished he had brought earplugs, and climbed into bed.

At four AM, he woke. What is it, six or seven in Alabama? He was wide awake and listening to Justin snoring like a freight train across the room. Aaron didn’t seem to be conscious.

No use changing my routine.

He took his Bible, a pen, and a notepad downstairs through the kitchen to a huge room filled with comfortable couches and recliners. He turned on a lamp, settled into a comfortable overstuffed brown couch, and continued his study of Nehemiah.

Nehemiah was rebuilding the Temple, John thought, and I am rebuilding my life.

At four AM in a mansion in Malibu!

And then he prayed. Lord, thank You for waking me up and giving me yet another interesting day …

Sonya couldn’t sleep, her stomach gurgling. She had skipped dinner so her dress wouldn’t strangle her, and now her body needed nourishment. She sneaked downstairs to the kitchen, taking an apple and a banana from a fruit bowl on a counter cluttered with empty and partially empty beer, wine, and liquor bottles.

What a mess. She sniffed a glass half filled with a greenish liquid. Geez, what is that? Turpentine? An empty Lucid Absinthe Supérieure bottle was in the sink. One hundred and twenty-four proof? And it’s called “Lucid”? Who are they trying to kid?

She turned to leave the kitchen when she saw a light on in the great room. She peeked into the room and saw Arthur. What’s he reading? And why is he up at this hour? She slipped into the room.

“Can’t sleep?” she whispered.

Arthur turned his head. “Oh, hi, Jazz. Um, it’s six or seven back home. I’m normally up at this hour.”

An early riser. That’s cool. Sonya sat across from him in a rocking recliner. “I haven’t slept at all. All that noise. I hope they don’t party like that every night.”

Arthur only stared at her.

“What?”

“I like you better without makeup,” he said.

“A woman doesn’t wear makeup to bed, you know.”

Arthur nodded. “I still like you better without makeup. That makeup was covering up your beauty.”

Which is a compliment, Sonya. Take it. “Thank you, Arthur.” He’s wearing sweats and reading the Bible. I do that sometimes, too. “Um, what book are you reading?”

“Nehemiah.”

He said that with no hesitation, no embarrassment, and no trace of fear. They let another Christian on this show? Bob must be tearing his hair out. “And you’re taking notes.”

“Yes. It helps me remember what I read.” He looked at the ceiling. “Do you think they still have the cameras and microphones on?”

“I hope not,” Sonya said.

“I hope not, too. I’ll keep my voice down, just in case.” He closed the Bible, leaving his hand on top of it. “Hi, Jazz, my name is John. I am not thirty, I am not a film editor, and I am no longer from Chicago.” He smiled. “Just thought you might want to know that.”

An honest man. There’s something comforting about that. “I figured as much.”

“I am actually forty, I am my church’s handyman, and I am a former pastor from Burnt Corn, Alabama.”

Okay. That’s a lot of information to digest in a short period of time. “You don’t look forty.”

“Thank you.”

She raised her eyebrows. “How handy are you?”

“If it can break, I can duct tape it.”

Funny. “Um, where in Alabama?”

“Burnt Corn. About halfway between Montgomery and Mobile. Small town.”

It’s too strange a name not to be real. “You also said ‘former.’” What’d he do wrong?

“I am no longer married, and at New Hope AME, First Timothy chapter three is in full effect.”

First Timothy chapter three. Something about requirements for ministers. But at New Hope AME? “And you’re no longer married because …”

“My wife died.”

That’s so sad! “I’m sorry to hear that, Arthur, I mean, John.”

“It was a long time ago.”

I hate to ask, but I’m in interrogation mode. “How long ago?”

“Fifteen years.”

Sonya didn’t know what to say, so she only nodded. Fifteen years alone! That would be horrible! Wait. I’ve got him beat. What’s more than horrible? Atrocious?

“I decided just last week to stop mourning her,” John said, “and this, strangely enough, is how I’m going about it.”

Sonya still didn’t know what to say.

“You knew I wasn’t thirty right from the start, didn’t you?”

Sonya nodded. “You have these … worry lines.” She rubbed her forehead with a finger.

John leaned forward. “So do you. Very faint, though. I’m guessing you’re in your late twenties or early thirties.”

Another compliment! “Guess again.”

“I’ll have to move closer,” he said. “My eyesight is also forty.”

“I’ll move closer,” Sonya said, and she moved from the recliner to the opposite end of the couch.

John stared at her for a full minute. “Thirty … one.”

“I’m forty.”

John blinked. “Wow. I never would have guessed it.” He smiled. “And I like your hazel eyes, too. Why’d they make you wear contacts?”

Sonya smiled. “To match the dress, of course.”

“Of course. For the show.”

I like his sense of humor. I also like that he doesn’t take this show or himself seriously. “Yes, for the show.”

John took a deep breath. “So, may I interrogate you now?”

He’s definitely not slow. “To a point. I’m supposed to keep a few secrets.”

“Understood. If it’s to remain a secret, just shake your head. What’s your real name?”

“Sonya.”

“It’s nice to meet you, Sonya. I hope I don’t slip and call you Sonya when they’re filming.” He set his Bible on the arm of the couch. “And I take it you aren’t an aspiring actress from UCLA who shops and surfs.”

“No way.”

John shook his head. “Reality TV, huh?”

“Not a whole lot of reality.”

“Nope. Are there any real reality programs out there?”

“Man v. Food comes close.”

John nodded. “Did you see him eat that eleven-pound pizza in Atlanta?”

He watches the Travel Channel. “Yes! That episode was on again tonight, but I didn’t watch it. That was so gross.”

“Not as gross as when he ate one hundred and eighty oysters in New Orleans.”

And he watches it often. John is a couch potato, too! “Or the spicy tuna sushi in Charleston.”

“I’ll eat a fish,” John said, “but you have to cook it for me first.”

“Same here.” She took a bite of her apple. I’m glad my stomach woke me up. This man calms me.

“Sonya, I’m really sorry I ruined your big moment.”

“Don’t worry about it.”

“No, I have to explain. My plane from San Diego to LA was thirty minutes late, baggage claim at LAX took forever, and that traffic out there is brutal. I just want you to know it wasn’t my choice to be late.”

“I’m actually glad you arrived when you did. Just standing there looking like a princess is boring. And painful.”

“How are your feet?”

“Better, but they still hate me. I don’t normally wear high heels.”

“I could tell.”

This I have to hear. “And how could you tell?”

“I did have a wife once,” John said, “and she kind of, well, tottered whenever she wore them. You were tottering.”

Yeah, I was. “But I didn’t fall.”

“I’m glad you didn’t.”

And this is called comfortable silence. “Um, if you don’t mind my asking, why’d you agree to do this show? I mean, you seem so … ordinary.” Like me.

John sighed. “I am ordinary, and I don’t mind you asking. I came to find a wife.”

He didn’t just say … “You what?”

“I came to find a wife.”

And this is called uncomfortable silence.

“I know it sounds ridiculous,” John said.

Sonya was once again speechless. It is ridiculous. Who goes on TV to find a wife?

“I just felt this … pull, this need to be here,” John said. “I don’t mean here on this couch, although I am liking this couch and the company with me on the couch very much.”

He can’t be serious! “Let me get this straight.”

“Straighten away.”

Sonya laughed. “You came to find a wife on a show called Hunk or Punk.”

“Yes.”

“Um, I know we just met, and you seem like a really nice guy, but …” I have to say this. “That’s crazy.”

“Yep.”

I have nothing to say to that.

“But who knows?” John said. “Maybe God just wanted me to come here to meet you.”

Whoa. I can’t tell him that’s crazy. I know God moves in mysterious ways and all, but c’mon! No one goes on TV to find a wife. A hookup maybe, even a date, but a wife?

“Why are you doing this show?” John asked.

And now he’ll think that I’m crazy. “My publicist, who is now my agent, signed me up without my permission. I could have said no, but I didn’t.”

“Why?”

I can’t say it’s because I want to bond with a daughter who won’t call me “mama.” I wish I could be more honest with him. She shook her head. “It’s complicated.”

John smiled. “You don’t seem like a complicated person.”

Is that a compliment? “I’m really not that complicated,” Sonya said. “The situation is complicated.”

“I won’t pry,” John said. “I like mysteries. I have probably watched every episode of Unsolved Mysteries. I will do my best to figure you out, though.”

“What’s to figure out?”

“No offense, Sonya, but I’m not really sure who you really are yet. So far I do know that you are not who the producers want you to be and that you don’t like it very much that they don’t like it. And I like it very much that you don’t like it very much.” He sighed. “Did that make sense?”

“Yes.” Perfect sense, actually.

“And, um, I like this look, um, much better.” He laughed. “This look I can deal with. It’s natural, relaxed, and calm. I like natural, relaxed, and calm. The way you were before in that dress was … too much, um …” He wrinkled his lips. “I don’t want to offend you.”