Dream Girl Awakened (16 page)

“What will I be scheduling?”

“My travel dates. I handle the Indianapolis territory, Columbus, and Bloomington.”

“Bloomington? My girlfriend Jamilah attends IU. I'm proud of her.”

“I bet you two are thick as thieves.”

“No. It's more like the Three Musketeers. I have another girlfriend, Tawatha. We've known each other since grade school.”

“I'd love to meet the two of them sometime.”

“I've known the two of them since we were young. I can't imagine my life without their love and support. You know what it's like to have good friends, Ms. D.?”

“I do. There's nothing like someone having your back.”

Lasheera smiled and wondered if Aruba's friends were as sophisticated and kind as she. Lasheera answered the phones, learned the scheduling ropes, got to meet a few other people in the office, and wondered how soon it would be before Jamilah and Tawatha met her cool new boss.

B
ria and Renae made a pact to get Aruba out of her funk with a good old-fashioned Sista Spa Night at Bria's house. Aruba's funks were frustrating because she denied anything was going on in her life. When a crisis occurred in her life, Aruba got busy working in the office or bringing in juicy dishes from home. She'd pretend she found a great recipe to share with everyone, but Bria knew something had gone wrong at the Dixon household. She also knew Aruba wouldn't spill the goods because her mother, Darnella, admonished both of them when they were children about sharing marital business. Ms. Darnella's perceived paranoia about sharing personal business gained credibility after it was discovered her good friend, Sheila Mills, secretly spilled a few revelations to Mr. Lance when Ms. Darnella went on a church flea market trip. Aruba's father didn't speak to Ms. Darnella for two days and would have continued his silence if Ms. Sheila hadn't gone in for the kill. After Sheila said she would make the better wife, Mr. Lance realized Sheila was up to her old high school tricks. Ms. Darnella called Aruba and Bria in from playing one day, forbade them from visiting Ms. Sheila, and pointed her fingers in both their faces with these stern words: “I don't care how bad things get in your marriages when you grow up. If your life isn't in danger, and if you and your husband can make it to someone prayerful and tactful, only go to that individual. People
begrudge you the smallest things. Before you know it, a little secret shared can be hurled back in your face and cause your relationship a world of hurt.” The girls clutched their jump ropes, not sure they'd ever get married and upset they'd been interrupted for grown folks' business. Bria brushed the words off; Aruba allowed them to sink in. Bria watched as Aruba hid dates, relationships, and juicy tidbits about her whereabouts over the years.

After Aruba married and relocated to the Midwest, Bria hoped she could be trusted, that Aruba would confide in her. Darnella's words proved stronger than Bria's trust. Bria caught the slight scratches that appeared on Aruba's forehead. Scratches Aruba swore Jeremiah placed there. She watched the frantic check-balancing routine Aruba mastered during lunch breaks and the anger she displayed when whipping out a red pen to denote the balance status. Aruba couldn't hide the heated conversations with James that flowed out when Bria walked past the office door from time to time. The saddest memory Bria had witnessed was the double-date night at Peterson's. Sidney wanted to pay for everyone's meal, but James insisted he'd pay. It was a pricey dinner, and Sidney didn't mind since James was unemployed. Bria almost burrowed a hole in Sidney's knee when she saw Aruba slide her credit card to James under the table. Bria was done when James placed the card in the meal-ticket holder, signed her name, and put the receipt in his wallet. How could she convince her friend that she was worth so much more without sounding intrusive? Or worse, a hater. Spa night would be the start of tearing down Darnella's words. She loved Aruba like a sister and wanted her to know she was there for her for more than just babysitting Jeremiah.

“Baby, how long you want me out of the house?”

“Sid, I thought you were going to hang out with Joshua and Marcus.”

“We're going to Jillian's, Nicky Blaine's, then I'm going to check on my mom.”

“Have fun and drink a sour apple martini for me.”

“Baby, it's good to know you still care about me and my whereabouts.”

“I love you, Sidney Allen Hines, and don't you forget it.”

Bria planted a kiss above Sidney's left eye, their signal that all was well in their world. She loved the language they'd created over the years that was exclusive to their marriage. She'd seen wonderful marriages and relationships in her life and she wanted to continue the goodness. She was hesitant to share their love language for fear someone would say she was boasting. She didn't like it when couples who were doing well looked down on those who were struggling. That's why she wanted Aruba to know she was more concerned than she'd ever been about the state of her marriage.

“So, you ready for the big talk with Aruba?”

“I don't know, Sidney. She won't admit anything about the situation with James. I can't bring myself to tell her I saw the fax come across our machine in the office from Attorney April Morris. She's one of the most visible divorce attorneys in Indy and is a fighter for women getting the most they can get in a settlement.”

“How many years they been married?”

“Ten. Eleven in March.”

“That's a lot of time to throw away. You sure spa night is appropriate for this kind of talk?”

“I thought of a different approach.”

“Why are you looking at me? Why do I feel like a lamb being led to the slaughter?”

“Baby, our pact is we never discuss personal things in our marriage without each other's permission, right?”

“I don't like where this is going.” Sidney gave Bria a devilish
grin and encouraged her to proceed with a light nod of his head.

“If I pounce on Aruba, she'll shut down and I'll never get anything out of her. I'll play the hypothetical game like we did when we were younger.”

“You mean I have a friend who . . .” said Sidney.

“Exactly. The biggest struggle we've had thus far in our marriage was the rehab incident. It was mild compared to what I hear other couples go through, but it was touch and go with the drinking.”

“Job stress got the best of me. I'm glad we went through counseling to help us through that time. I'm sorry for what I put you through.”

“I'm not fishing for apologies. I need your permission to share the story tonight. It would pain me if you shared something intimate about me without my knowledge, so I just wanted to double-check.”

“I don't mind. I'm glad you asked me first. I'm blessed to have you as a wife and I try to show you what you mean to me as much as I can.”

“You do. I appreciate you more than you know. I just hope we continue growing together. I can't imagine my life without you.”

“So did your man get enough food?”

“Yes. You hooked us up! The station volunteers will be here soon. I hope the girls will enjoy the treatments I planned. Cutcha Right was gracious enough to let us have five of their students tonight. Their services will go toward their credits. Lisa Cosby of Heavenly Make-up by Lisa will offer makeovers and facials, and Sharron B. of Fingerprintz II will be here just in case someone wants twists done.”

“Who's coming to spa night?”

“Aruba, Renae, Joycelyn, and Lasheera.”

“Lasheera?”

“She's the office newbie. I thought it would be good to have her
mingle with us. She thinks the world of Aruba and I didn't want to leave her out.”

“I can't believe you guys pulled Renae out the house on a Friday night.”

“It's for Aruba, so Greer gave her a pass for the night.”

“Wait, is Lasheera pretty?” asked Sidney.

“Yes.”

“Is she skinny?”

“Yep. I'm sure Joycelyn will be on the war path. If you weren't good friends with Dre, she wouldn't be invited to any functions at this house.” Bria shook her head at Joycelyn's insecurity.

They embraced and kissed. Bria waved to Sidney and watched him leave the house. She would think of an extra special gesture to thank him for supporting the night's efforts.

Two hours later, the girls laughed, sipped champagne, and enjoyed the beginning stages of their pedicures. The pampering overwhelmed Lasheera who felt out of place among Bria, Aruba and their married friends. She tried not to stare at Bria's belongings, but she couldn't help wondering how it felt to have a husband. Lasheera knew Bria and her husband didn't have children.
Why does a childless couple need such a large home?
Lasheera wondered if she'd ever meet anyone special. As Renae and Joycelyn compared vacations, talked about their spouses, and made plans for the coming weeks to do something as couples, Lasheera sank lower in her seat as her feet were massaged with a pumice stone. The only thing she could contribute to the night was revisionist single mother stories. No way would this sista circle know about how much she'd been through. She sipped champagne, bit into a Godiva chocolate-covered strawberry, and blinked back tears forming from feelings of deep-seated inadequacy.

“Honey, Dre is the last man on earth who enjoys heavy cooking.
He still hasn't gotten the nerve to tell his mother to stop sending those cooking tips. She said I'm starving him and he needs some meat on his bones,” said Joycelyn, as she grabbed a strawberry from the fruit tray.

Lasheera's forehead creased.
I know that baby voice didn't come from that big woman.

Bria forgot to warn Lasheera about Joycelyn's high-pitched voice and regretted the faux pas when Lasheera placed her hands over her ears. She gave Lasheera a sympathetic nod and held back the laughter inside.

“Greer's mother gave up on me a long time ago,” said Renae. “I can do take-out like nobody's business and that's all there is to it. Now, Ms. Aruba Crocker over there needs to take some tips from us and stop slaving in the kitchen like she owns a restaurant.”

“I like cooking for my family. What's wrong with that?” asked Aruba, shifting her toes in the sea salt and eucalyptus foot soak.

“Nothing at all if you want to forgo having fun and games, if you know what I mean,” said Joycelyn.

“Ladies, we have a new,
single
woman with us tonight. Let's not run her off with our crazy tales,” said Bria.

“Oh, you're not married?” asked Joycelyn. She looked at Lasheera as if she had three heads with Buddha tattoos.

Not this again. It's not a lie if it's finessed.
“No. Things didn't work out with my son's father, so I'm single and loving it.”

“There is nothing wrong with being single, Lasheera,” said Renae. She cut her eyes at Joycelyn as if to say
don't start tonight.

“I guess. I like having the comfort and security of a mate. Having someone to talk to, to share my day with, someone to help carry the load,” said Joycelyn.

“Marriage isn't for everyone, Joycelyn. How many times do we have to remind you of that fact?” asked Aruba.

“What woman in her right mind wouldn't want to have a man around to help take care of things and her? I don't know of one!” said Joycelyn.

“Actually, I didn't grow up planning a wedding or thinking of getting married. I don't want to be pressured into a union with someone just to say I've got a man. If the right person comes along, fine. If not, that doesn't make me less of a woman or mean something is wrong with me,” said Lasheera. She pointed to the Jamaican rum nail color as the volunteer doing her feet anticipated the conversation heating up.

“You work with Aruba and Bria, right?”

“Yes.”

“Do you mean to tell me you wouldn't want to be in a position to keep your paycheck, let your husband handle everything, and do what you please with your money?”

“I'm telling you if I had a husband, I'd want us to work together and share the load. There shouldn't be a mine-and-yours mentality in a marriage,” said Lasheera, becoming more irritated by Joycelyn's attack.

“People, people, we don't have these discussions at Sista Spa Night,” said Bria, diffusing the argument.

Bria knew Joycelyn's issue. Joycelyn derived pleasure when meeting a skinny sista who wasn't hitched. Lasheera's model-thin frame, snazzy hair cut, and warm personality wasn't lost on anyone in the house. Joycelyn's three-hundred-pound-plus frame, squat stature, and boisterous personality could be disarming for some. Joycelyn took pride in her appearance. She kept her hair done, nails tight, and feet together. Somehow, that was never enough to satisfy her or the notion that Andre, or Fabulous Dre as Joycelyn renamed him, wanted someone smaller. No matter how much he complimented her, she always shrank in front of smaller, single
women. Bria, Renae, and Aruba joked they'd be in trouble if they didn't have husbands. During a Circle Centre Mall visit, a precocious boy pointed at Joycelyn and Dre, and said, “Look, Mommy, they look like the number ten standing next to each other,” as they strolled by. Dre's six-three, lithe body next to Joycelyn's round-figure frame could have been mistaken for the number. Dre spent the rest of the night calming Joycelyn down and telling her how beautiful she was to him. Renae and Aruba witnessed the metamorphosis in Joycelyn when smaller women were around. If the women were married, she'd back down. If they were single, she'd harangue the hell out of them until they left her presence.

“I have a question for you all. I have a circumstance that needs to be addressed,” said Bria.

“Out with it,” said Aruba.

“I have a friend—”

“The hypothetical game, Bree?” asked Aruba.