Dream Girl Awakened (23 page)

“No, he packed his things after the dance because he said I made him feel like a paycheck. He said I didn't make him feel loved or wanted, so he left our home for ‘space.' ”

“Where is he?”

“I don't know. He calls the house to check on Nicolette, but he won't talk to me. He sends messages to me through Alva. I wish I'd done things so differently.”

“Such as?”

“Not complain so much. Listened more, talked less. Made love. Cooked dinners.”

“You're talking like things are over. Just work on winning him back.”

“Winston is very even-tempered. He's never done anything like this.”

“Everyone has a breaking point. It's not over 'til it's over, though. Get back in the ring and fix your marriage.”

“What would you suggest?”

“Kidnap him. Take him to your cabin in Brown County. Plan a romantic getaway and tell him how you feel.”

“I like the sound of that. Why didn't I think of it?” Victoria paused. “And you? Are you telling me there's no hope at all for you and James?”

“Afraid not.”

“If you need anything, please let me know. I'm willing to help in any way possible.”

Aruba spied her watch. “I'm actually leaving for an appointment. I hate cutting this conversation short, but I have to get dressed.”

“May I take you somewhere?”

“No, I'm fine.”

“There I go again. I've been sitting here all this time and didn't ask about Jeremiah. Is he upstairs?” Victoria stood as if to head upstairs.

“No . . . no, he's with Bria for the weekend.”

“So when do I get a tour of your new place?”

“When I clean up. The dungeon is not tour-worthy yet. I'm still unpacking. I plan to have a party soon, though. You know you're at the top of the guest list.”

“I understand. Again, I apologize for barging in like this.”

“Hey, that's what friends are for.”

“I appreciate your encouragement. I'll let you know how it goes with Winston.”

Victoria took in Aruba's surroundings.

“I love what I see so far. When do I get some decorating tips?”

“Come on, I need tips from you.”

“I won't hold you up any longer. I haven't said it in a long time, but I love you, Aruba. I'm grateful you're in my life.”

They embraced. Aruba made sure Victoria made it out all right and stood with her back to the door.

“That was a close call,” she called to Winston.

“Too close for comfort,” he said from the top of the stairs.

They eyed each other in silence, both unwilling to admit that the time to make hard decisions was closer than they'd anticipated.

R
oberta and Lasheera staged an intervention at Lafayette Square Mall. Aunjanue could no longer hold her worries about Tawatha and felt her grandmother and favorite auntie should do something ASAP. As they made their third lap around the mall, Roberta's patience shortened as she spoke with Tawatha.

“Honey, I'm worried. That's what mothers do. How much weight have you lost? Twenty-five pounds?”

“Thirty-six,” Tawatha proudly announced. She waved off the attention of a distinguished, older gentleman wearing a navy blue suit and diving into a cinnamon roll at Cinnabon. The weight loss bolstered her confidence. She didn't mind being thick, but the weight loss made her cartoonish because she couldn't lose her breasts and butt. She knew she was on the right track when a guy yelled out, “Pebblez the Model ain't got nothing on you, ma,” a few weeks ago. She stepped up her cardio, squats, and chest fly workouts. She vowed to be the most beautiful bride Indianapolis had ever seen.

“You look healthy. I'm just concerned because the weight loss is so sudden. Why is that?” asked Roberta.

“The kids are worried as well,” added Lasheera.

Tawatha took in a few deep breaths. Her unease grew the more they walked. This wasn't the time to let them know about James. How could she explain that her husband was someone else's and
wouldn't be fully hers until after the funeral. She could picture Roberta giving her one of those long lectures about waiting on the right man and not lowering her standards. No way was she ready for the criticism Lasheera and Roberta would dish out.

“I'm working, doing well at my job, keeping my place together, staying healthy. What more do you want from me?”

“To be honest about what's going. Does this have anything to do with a man?” asked Roberta.

“Onnie said you have a boyfriend,” said Lasheera. “And don't forget you told us to be ready for your wedding.”

“Wedding?” cried Roberta.

“Thanks, old refrigerator! Would the two of you stop it! When do I have time for a relationship with my work schedule?”

They pondered her words. Her job was occupying her time and dominating a lot of their conversations in recent months. She was throwing out real estate terminology left and right and talked about owning a slice of Hinton and Conyers someday. She mentioned a seven-year plan.

“You can't blame us for wanting what's best for you. You've come so far and I'm so proud of you, baby,” said Roberta.

Roberta and Lasheera continued to walk in silence, praying their concern would register for what is was: concern, not the words of two busybodies. At the third lap, Lasheera grinned from ear to ear at the sight of Lake. He held out a bottled water for Lasheera. This was the usual time he joined her at the mall. She stepped back two paces to allow Roberta and Tawatha private time. Lake said he wanted her to love half of him, so they joined each other every Saturday for walking, chatting, and breakfast afterward. She was taking it nice and slow. She hoped Tawatha was doing the same because she knew her friend. Once a man was involved, she'd stop at nothing to get him. To hell with the consequences.

“So, Tawatha, as beautiful and outgoing as you are, you're trying to convince your old mother there's not a man in your life?”

“What's with the Twenty Questions?”

“If you answer honestly, I'll stop asking.” Roberta smiled and wiped away the sweat glistening on her forehead.

“Promise you won't judge me?”

“Do I ever?”

“Every waking minute.”

The words stung Roberta. What came out as judgment was meant to be warning signs for Tawatha. She remembered how harshly her mother judged everything about her. She promised she'd never be that way with her children. Here she was, repeating the same behavior without realizing how much she was hurting her daughter.

“I never meant to judge you. If I've done so, I'm sorry. I want the best for you. I want more for you than I've gotten out of life.”

“Momma, what do you mean? Mr. J.B. is the nicest man in the world. He loves you, he takes care of you, he likes me and my kids, and he's active in his church. He's one of the few men I've met who walks the walk instead of just talking the talk.”

“Yeah, but that came at a heavy price and after a long journey. But this ain't about J.B., we're talking about you. What's going on, Tawatha? You can tell me anything.”

“There is someone I love dearly. It's just that we can't be together right now.”

“Why not?”

“It's complicated.”

“Is he in jail?”

“Would I date a man in jail?”

“No, that's not your speed. You hated being confined in a playpen as a child, so I don't see you visiting a man in a correctional facility.”

“Amen! You know me well.”

“Is he married?”

Tawatha's silence answered the question. Roberta hoped her child would transcend the foolishness of her youth. Find a good man, get the two-story home with the white picket fence, have a child or two. Although she knew Tawatha was domestically challenged, she was certain the love of a grounded relationship would settle her daughter down. Instead, she tamped down negative comments as Tawatha paraded baby after baby before her with no ring, no commitment, no husband. Although she monitored the things she said, she somehow found a way to slip in a cut or snide remark about Tawatha's lifestyle. Those words came from being disappointed in seeing herself in Tawatha.

“So you'll never marry Mr. J.B.?”

“I didn't say that. Speaking of marriage, what about you?”

“No judging, right?”

“Promise.”

“You know my references will be vague, so don't press me for names and details.”

“
Okay
.”

“I met a really nice guy at my job. He's a businessman and he has a lot on his plate right now.”

“What's on his plate?”

“I'm assuming recession fallout because I don't think things are going well with the business. It's hard for him to work and take care of . . .” Tawatha paused.

“Does he have elderly parents?”

“No. His wife is terminally ill with breast cancer. I didn't want to bring it up because I was afraid you'd tear into me about being with him.”

“You ready to take a break? Let's get some juice. I want to share something with you.”

Tawatha stopped short of stomping her feet. She dreaded the conversation about to unfold. They neared Cinnabon and stood in line to place their orders. Before either could speak, Mr. Extravaganza handed the cashier a twenty for their orders and told him to keep the change. He retreated back to his seat, smiling at Tawatha.

“Juice and a cinnamon pecan bun for me,” said Tawatha.

“I'll just have juice,” said Roberta.

They took their trays to their seats. Knowing Tawatha feared the worst, Roberta took a different approach. She would dispense her words with love and admonition in equal measure.

“Do you know how special you are?” asked Roberta.

“What's the punch line?”

“No punch line. I think you deserve an unattached man who's willing to give you the love you deserve.”

Tawatha meditated on her mother's words. She blushed. “You're just saying that. I know you don't mean it.”

“I do mean it.” Roberta touched Tawatha's hand. “When you described him, I saw the same glow on your face that I had about your father.”

“That's good, right? Daddy was a noble man who died in a car accident. I hate I didn't get to know him, but at least you had the love of a husband. I've got a bunch of baby daddies and deep regrets.”

“I never married your father, Tawatha. Shirley Gipson was Carol's husband when I met him. I was a young, naïve student who thought I found the man of my dreams. It wasn't until I was pregnant with you and your sister that I found out. His wife came to see me.”

“Why didn't you ever say anything? And why are you telling me now?”

“The timing was never right. The only reason I'm bringing it up now is to warn you about the dangers of waiting for something that doesn't belong to you. I never told Shirley about you and Teresa. If your man is sincere, he'll reach out to you when the time is right. Does he have any children?”

“He has a cute son named Jeremiah.”

“How do you know he's cute?”

“I've seen pictures of him,” Tawatha lied.

“Even if his wife dies, there is so much for you to think about. You'd be blending his child with four others. You're also not sure how much financial devastation her illness has caused. How open is he to your children? What would her family have to say about another woman stepping in so soon after her death? These are just a few things that come to mind. Take your time and don't rush into anything.”

If Roberta wasn't crunching numbers, she was spitting logic. Why did her mother always have to be the voice of reason? Tawatha wasn't prepared to answer her mother's questions because she didn't know half the answers.

“Back to Daddy. You're telling me my father is alive and well and living somewhere in this world?”

“Shirley Gipson is alive and well in California. You also have siblings a little older than you.”

Tawatha's stomach soured. She set her juice aside. The revelation was hard to digest.

“Did he ever promise he'd leave his wife for you?”

“I didn't know he was married until Carol waltzed into my apartment.”

“Momma, our circumstances are different. I know about her and why he can't be with me.”

“Tawatha, answer this. If you were gravely ill and married, what would you want your husband to do for you?”

Without hesitation, Tawatha responded, “I would want him to take care of me and my kids. Certainly make my last days bearable.”

“Could he do that with another woman on the periphery?”

“I guess not.”

“If his wife deserves better, don't you?”

Tawatha remained silent.

“Look at that,” said Roberta, nodding her head toward Lake and Lasheera. “Sheer has been to hell and back. She's getting her life on track and I'm so proud of her. Lake is a fine young man and I'm praying their friendship blossoms into a good relationship.”

Tawatha looked on with envious eyes. The last two times she'd seen Lake and Lasheera together, she fought back tears. If anyone deserved a little sunshine, it was Sheer. Tawatha's envy came from the way Lake looked at Lasheera. The way he hung on to her every word. The way laughter exploded from their bellies when they shared a joke or funny incident. Then guilt overwhelmed her. It was easier to pity Lasheera than champion her. All the late-night runs to pick her up. All the times when she and Jamilah scrounged spare change to feed her habit in fear she might rob someone. Things were safer then. Now, Lasheera soared. Zion had visited her house several times, and Lake frequently surprised Lasheera with trips and trinkets with an agreement to take things slow.
How did Sheer get such a good catch?
She quickly rebuked the thought. How could she harbor such deep resentment toward Lasheera?