Authors: L. V. Lewis
Tags: #Literature & Fiction, #United States, #African American, #Romance, #Contemporary, #Multicultural, #Multicultural & Interracial
Tristan throws up his hands, realizing his faux pas. “I didn’t mean just right now. I mean for as long as Keisha will have me.” Old habits die hard. He’ll have to train his thoughts in terms of longevity where Keisha is concerned. His heart is there. Oh, is it ever.
“Yeah, because I can’t help you with this
right now
business, but I might be willing to help you with forever,” Clara Lee says. “Let’s go back in there and share with Jada the real reason you left, so we can get that hellcat on our side. Then we’ll figure out together how we can get my daughter, the hellcat’s sister, to cooperate.”
Tristan hopes like hell it won’t entail telling Jada he loves Keisha before he gets a chance to tell her himself. He’s pretty sure Clara Lee and the pastor know, but they won’t let the cat out of the bag on him—and just before they reenter the sitting room, he rolls his eyes inwardly at himself for even thinking along the lines of another cat analogy.
~*~
Morning Star Baptist Church is decorated inside and out for the occasion of Pastor Johnson and Clara Lee Beale’s wedding. Members of the congregation are scurrying about taking care of last minute details at the direction of Mrs. Searles. Tristan is thankful to see someone he knows so soon upon entering the church for the third time in as many months.
“Tristan,” Mrs. Searles says. “I know you’re to be seated on the bride’s side, but you’re a bit early.”
He walks into her open arms and gives her a hug. “I know I am, and please don’t let me stop you from doing your service for Clara Lee and the pastor, but I really need to speak to Keisha.”
“They’re in the middle of getting ready and helping Clara Lee get ready, but I’ll see what I can do.”
She starts in the direction of a door to the left of the sanctuary, and a spry gentleman with salt and pepper hair all decked out in his tuxedo approaches her, tugging at his tie.
Mrs. Searles stops in her tracks and so does Tristan. “Deacon Gray, if you don’t leave that tie alone... ! I had it perfect and now it’s all catawampus again.”
As he gets closer, Tristan sees the beads of sweat dotting the man’s forehead even though it’s very cool in the building.
“Sister Thelma,” Deacon Gray says. “I don’t feel good. I got the worst case of indigestion ever and my left arm is hurting like mad.”
Tristan retrieves his cell and dials 9-1-1. “Yes, I have a gentleman at the Morning Star Baptist Church at Fifty-ninth and South Campbell who seems to be having a heart attack. Please dispatch an ambulance immediately.”
No sooner has he finished that sentence than the little man collapses. Tristan catches him effortlessly since he probably doesn’t weigh more than a buck fifty, soaking wet. Mrs. Searles directs him into the first room they come to, and Tristan lays the deacon on a bench seat in what looks to be an office. Tristan hands Mrs. Searles the phone and begins CPR as she gives the dispatcher the rest of the necessary information and stays on the phone while the EMTs are in route. Mrs. Searles flags down a young woman.
“Go and find Mrs. Delandria Gray and ask her to come to Deacon Woodville’s office. She’s most likely in the reception hall.” The young girl nods and takes off.
When the EMTs arrive, they take over CPR and hook the gentleman to an IV. Mrs. Searles pulls Tristan to the side.
“That is Pastor Johnson’s best man,” she says. “The pastor’s study is at the end of the hall, Tristan. Go on in there and let Pastor know what’s going on. Then I’ll take you to Keisha.”
Tristan does as he’s told and knocks on the pastor’s door.
He’s invited to enter, and when he does so, Pastor Johnson is already talking.
“Roscoe, come on in here so we can pray before everything gets started... oh, Tristan. So glad you could make it.” The pastor extends his hand.
Tristan takes it, and holds it as he delivers the news. “Pastor Johnson, Deacon Gray just had a heart attack.”
The pastor starts toward the door, but Tristan raises his hands.
“I performed CPR on him until the EMTs got here. They say it’s given him a fighting chance.”
“I should go be with him at the hospital—” The pastor’s cell phone rings before he can finish his thought.
“Sister Delandria, I’m on my way,” he says. “Uh-huh... yes... I know, but Roscoe would want me there... uh-huh... okay. But Clara Lee and I will be there immediately after the vows are—well, at least let us stop by before we get on the plane. Okay. God bless, and we’ll pray without ceasing.”
“Thanks for bringing me the news in advance of this call, Tristan. Sister Delandria says Roscoe is awake and talking on the way to the hospital, so they don’t think it was a massive attack. She’s going to call us during the reception and let us know what the doctors say.”
Javier, Jr., who is also one of the groomsmen says, “That’s good. But now you’re a man short, Pastor.”
The pastor looks to Javier. “You can step up for Roscoe and let Tristan escort your lovely wife, or you can let Tristan step up for Roscoe and escort your sister in.”
Javier’s eyes shoot daggers at Tristan. Thankfully the other groomsmen are unknown to Tristan and aren’t privy to his relationship with Keisha.
“I wasn’t jockeying for a spot in the wedding party. I’m just here to talk to Keisha and of course attend the wedding.”
“You’re dressed appropriately. So, the way I see it, the Lord provided you as a ram in the bush. Tristan, are you prepared to accept the challenge?”
Tristan isn’t about to pass up this opportunity. “I am.”
Keisha
Jada, Nina, Mama, and I are dressed and waiting for the cue to begin our descent down the aisle into the Sanctuary. It’s actually twenty minutes past four when we finally get the approval from Mrs. Searles to go in, after a round of prayer for Deacon and Mrs. Gray.
First, Nina, escorted by Javier, Jr., goes in, then Jada escorted by Pastor Johnson’s youngest brother, and finally I get to go in alone since I’m the maid of honor. It’s just like my luck to have my escort succumb to a heart attack.
I don’t look up at first, because I’m listening to Mrs. Searles for last-minute instruction and concentrating on getting my steps right and following Jada and her escort in at the right time. When I get a quarter of the way down the aisle, and my vision isn’t obscured by the couple in front of me, I look up expecting to see Pastor Johnson standing alone at the altar, but instead I see Pastor Johnson
and
Tristan standing there.
My heart accelerates, and I stumble because I don’t expect him
,
of all people. I forget all about Mrs. Searles’ s instruction to look from side to side at the crowd and smile at the familiar faces. Seeing Tristan has made me forget everything, and I am mesmerized by his eyes as I make my way to the front of the sanctuary.
As I step up to the altar, Tristan moves forward and offers me his arm and escorts me to my place on the side opposite to him and the pastor, just in front of Jada and Nina. I can read the look on Jada’s face without hearing the words,
what the fuck?
Because I feel the same way.
As we walk, I talk to Tristan through my pasted-on smile like a ventriloquist. “What are you doing here?”
Tristan blinds me with his smile and whispers back
,
“I was invited by Clara Lee, and the pastor asked me to step in for Deacon Gray.”
He then summarily deposits me in my place to wait for the bride to make her entrance. I narrow my eyes and shoot daggers at Tristan as the organ swells with the bridal march.
When Clara Lee enters, Pastor Johnson beams at his bride. Mama looks beautiful as she glides down the aisle in her lovely lavender evening gown and jacket, holding her groom’s eyes like her life depends on it.
If Mama is surprised to see Tristan in the wedding party, she doesn’t show it. In fact, she looks mighty pleased about everything. I roll my eyes heavenward and die through their vows. I know I should just be happy for my mama, but deep down, or maybe not even deep down, I still want this for Tristan and me. Maybe his coming here is a sign that there is still hope, but I am tired of Tristan not knowing what he wants.
I suffer through the wedding and most of the reception, wanting to release my anger and give Tristan a chance to explain, but I can’t. I can forgive everything that happened before I told him that I love him, but the way he just dropped out of my life without so much as a good-bye or a “see you later” was unforgiveable. Then having to go through the discovery of the tumor and the surgery alone was unbearable. Even if he had been man enough to visit me as a friend, like Carmelo, I would’ve taken that and moved on. To have him show up on my mother’s wedding day and expect me to forgive and fall into his arms takes his arrogance to a new level.
He corners me on the dance floor after I’ve taken turns dancing with Javier and my other three brothers who are in town for Mama’s wedding. Tristan cuts in when I’m dancing with Thiery, and my clueless brother lets him.
It feels surreal being in Tristan’s arms again after he so callously left me gutted and broken. He holds me close and inhales deeply. I almost fall under his spell and do the same. Jada is dancing with Nate on the other side of the room, but keeping an eagle eye on us.
“Keisha,” Tristan finally says. “We need to talk.”
“No, Tristan. We don’t. Our relationship, if you want to call it that, is over—it was doomed from the start. Obviously the novelty wore off, and my wanting more from you wasn’t part of the contract. Let’s just leave things as they are, shall we?”
“There were extenuating circumstances. I had to ensure your safety.”
I pull away from him, shaking with anger that bubbles to the surface before I can contain it. “The only thing you had to do was acknowledge my feelings for you, but you couldn’t even do that. You ran like a scared little boy while I experienced the most frightening seventy-two hours of my life without the person I cared for most in the world, waiting to see if I would suffer the same fate as his mother. You don’t get to come in here and explain it all away as if it didn’t happen.” I notice people have stopped dancing and are watching, so I cut my soliloquy short. “I have some other choice words I’d like to say to you, Tristan White, but we’re in a church.”
I literally run off the dance floor and into the ladies’ room. I have never talked to Tristan like that because I’ve always played the role of his submissive, and it felt good.
Jada comes in a few seconds later. Our eyes meet in the mirror’s reflection. “Are you okay?” she asks.
“Yes, I’m fine.”
“I told Nate he should’ve made Tristan wait to talk to you after Mama Beale’s wedding, but he said his brother practically bit his head off when he suggested it.”
“It’s okay,” I say. “I think the cancer scare has emboldened me. I can handle Tristan White.”
Jada flashes me a wry smile. “Okay, girlfriend. Handle your business.”
We go back out to enjoy the reception. I dodge Tristan as much as I can, especially during the taking of pictures and all the fanfare, but I am unable to do so after the cake and punch is served and the bride and groom are getting ready to leave for the airport.
We’re all lined up outside at the back entrance of the church when a limousine pulls up. Tristan is so tall and handsome in his tuxedo, I can’t help but notice him across the sidewalk. I can feel his eyes on me, but I try not to meet his gaze.
“That’s not the limo for the bride and groom,” Mrs. Searles says. “Keisha, baby, go tell that man to move his car. Your mama and Pastor Johnson will be out directly.”
I go to the limo and knock on the window, but the driver doesn’t respond. The next thing I know, my legs go out from under me and I’m being lifted into a pair of strong arms. I get one whiff of his signature scent and know who it is.
“Tristan! Put me down!”
He ignores me and hoists me into the limousine. “Doors, Moses.” With those words, the locks click into place and the car pulls away.