I Left My Back Door Open (32 page)

Sharon shook her head. “Girl, Victor doesn't have a leg to stand on.”

We hugged good-bye and I thanked Sharon for a great dinner. I reminded myself that I had a lot to be thankful for, even though in the back of my mind I was worried about Skylar and Allison.

When I walked in the door, the phone was ringing and Langston was meowing. It was Skylar on the phone. I threw Langston a piece of turkey to shut him up.

“I told Allison she couldn't stay with us,” Skylar said firmly, after we exchanged greetings.

“How did she take it?” I asked, feeling relieved.

“It didn't go over too well. Allison kept insisting that it would be for only one night. I told her that I was sorry, but I just couldn't take her at her word. She'd broken too many promises before. The hospital people even got involved. A nurse asked me if there was any way possible that Allison could stay here just for tonight. I felt like Scrooge.”

“What's she going to do now?” I asked, balancing the phone in one hand and feeding Langston another pinch of turkey with the other.

“I didn't know that you were concerned for her.”

“I have compassion for anybody in her situation,” I replied, fingering my cat's head. “I don't want to see Allison on the street. I just don't want to see her move in with you.”

“Well, as it turns out, Allison's not going to be on the street.”

“That's good,” I said, carrying the phone into the living room area and settling into the recliner.

“She's staying here with me and Brianna.”

“I thought you just said that you told Allison that she couldn't stay there!” I shouted.

“You didn't let me finish. Like I said, the hospital people got involved and I felt like Scrooge. The nurse asked how could I not take my daughter's mother in under these circumstances?”

I felt my body stiffen. “I don't believe that the hospital would've put Allison out in the cold,” I said tersely.

“You don't know that,” Skylar insisted. “Hospitals can be pretty cold these days.”

“What about a hotel? It might've been cheaper in the long run to cough up some money.”

“Allison was afraid to be alone. The woman just had surgery. Her foot's in a cast.”

“Okay, so her mother's boyfriend is coming to get her tomorrow, right?”

“I'm gonna be honest with you, Dee Dee.”

“Please do.”

“I can't say one hundred percent when Allison's mother's boyfriend is going to get here. He might come tomorrow and he might come in a week. Let's be realistic—you know how people are.”

“Yes, my reasoning exactly. I already told you that,” I reminded Skylar. “I just don't feel comfortable with this situation, Skylar. I really don't.”

“I'm not crazy about it, either. But I was between a rock and a hard place. Brianna wants her mother here and I do have compassion for Allison. She's not a bad person. And, anybody can be in need. You
need
to trust me. It's over between me and Allison, period.”

“It's not that I don't trust you, Skylar. It's that I don't trust the situation.”

“Well, you need to have faith in me.”

“Stop telling me what I need to do,” I snapped. “I feel like I need to back out now, because otherwise I could really get hurt. If I don't protect myself, no one else will.”

“Back out of what?”

I swallowed. “Our relationship,” I answered firmly, despite feeling shaky inside.

“Are you planning to end our relationship just because I gave my daughter's mother a place to heal from surgery?” Skylar asked in a raised voice. “Is that what you're planning to do?”

“I need to back off and regroup.”

“Regroup for how long—a few days, a week, a month? I deserve to have information,” Skylar demanded.

“I don't know how long.”

“You don't have any papers on me, Dee Dee. You can't just expect me to sit around twiddling my thumbs, until you decide you've regrouped!”

“I have no control over what you do, Skylar. You've proven that.”

“I love you and I want to be with you, Dee Dee,” he said, softening his tone.

“You went against my feelings,” I reminded him.

“I had to do what I thought was right in my own heart.”

“Well, now I have to do what I feel is right in my own heart.”

“Dee Dee, if you walk away now, there's no guarantee that I'll be waiting for you, when and if you decide to come back,” Skylar warned.

“That's just the chance I'll have to take, isn't it?” I said as a chill went through my body.

“This is really turning out to be a sad Thanksgiving.” Skylar sighed.

“Tell me about it,” I retorted.

“Brianna asks about you,” Skylar added. “I can tell that she really likes you.”

“I really like her, too,” I said, as tears welled up in my eyes. I realized I was putting my hopes for becoming a family on the line. But better to experience disappointment now, I counseled myself, than devastation later. If Skylar was going to go back to Allison, let it happen before I became too attached to Brianna, so that it wasn't such a double whammy. “I was looking forward to getting to know your daughter,” I confided softly. “Your child really touches my heart.”

“What about me?”

“I love you, Skylar. But right now, I have to step back, even if it means losing you. I need to look inside myself for answers.”

“If Allison leaves tomorrow, will you come back then?”

“I can't say how I'm gonna feel tomorrow. I can't even say how I'm gonna get through tonight.”

twenty-one

Last night, after talking to Skylar, I'd attempted to lose myself in the haunting sounds of belly dance music while I ate my Thanksgiving leftovers. I'd binged, but I hadn't purged. Progress, not perfection, I reminded myself. I'd finally taken a melatonin tablet so that I could fall asleep.

By the next night, I still hadn't heard from Skylar. All day, I'd half expected him to call and announce that Allison had departed for Indianapolis. And yes, I would take him back. But I never got the call. So, I figured Allison was probably still there. And yes, I felt sad; and yes, I was trying not to overeat. And yes, I'd cleaned the house like a maniac. I'd finally dug out my harmonica and played the blues.

I couldn't believe that I might've let Skylar slip through my fingers and might spend the rest of my life waking up alone. Maybe I should call Skylar and beg him to take me back. Even if he were involved romantically with Allison, it didn't have to be the end of our world. Why couldn't I just look the other way like a lot of women? Why couldn't I just take Skylar at his word? Why couldn't I trust him? Even if Skylar was seeing Allison and I caught them in the act, I could still choose between believing Skylar and believing my lying eyes.

Listen to yourself, the other side of me admonished, you sound like a woman who's asking to be used. You deserve to have an honest, loving relationship with a man that you can trust. And how can you trust any man in this situation? It's smart of you to step back and see if Skylar still carries a torch for Allison. Because if he does, you're the one who stands to get burned. It's painful enough to walk away now, but it could be devastating later. If Skylar is meant for you, it will happen.

I was counting on the blues to cheer me up tomorrow. My radio show should be a good distraction. Sunday, I'd listen to church on the radio and sing and shout as loud as Langston would allow. That would help take my mind off Skylar also. I decided to throw myself into my advertising job, starting on Monday. I vowed to bring new exuberance to leading my upcoming focus groups on frozen ravioli dinners, greeting cards and sport utility vans.

I had a meeting scheduled Tuesday with Phil and Lupe Hernandez from the
Tribune Magazine
. Phil had passed on Skylar's offer to try to take legal action against the bounty hunters. He never gave a coherent reason; he just said he didn't want to deal with the courts. I was in no mood to argue with Phil, since Skylar and I hadn't spoken in almost a week. I was heartbroken, because I figured that Allison was still there and Skylar couldn't bring himself to tell me that.

Anyway, Lupe said she was certain that her editors would jump at the chance to publish Phil's riveting tale. Phil told me that because he'd never been interviewed before, he'd like me to be there for moral support. Lupe said it was cool with her; it would be nice to see me outside of our Women in Media meetings. I told her, “Ditto,” and everything was set. The three of us were scheduled to meet for a late lunch tomorrow at Heaven on Seven, a popular Creole restaurant downtown on the seventh floor of the Plymouth building.

The doorbell rang, startling both Langston and me. It was somewhat late, almost time for the ten o'clock news. I fantasized that it was Skylar, coming on bended knee, carrying a white flag and two dozen roses. But unfortunately, we heard Phil's voice on the intercom. My cat gave me a bored look, as if to say, “Not that joker again.”

As I buzzed Phil in, I wondered if he'd gotten cold feet about the interview tomorrow. Maybe he was concerned about possible ramifications. He might be afraid that the bounty hunters would come after him if his story got out. It was understandable that he would be afraid after what they put him through.

“You're looking fit these days,” Phil said, after entering my condo.

“Thanks, I just got off the treadmill a little while ago. Don't get too close,” I cautioned. “I still gotta take a bath.”

“I can't smell you.”

“Anyway, enough about me. You just happened to be in the neighborhood? I mean, what's up with this surprise visit?”

“Your phone was busy,” Phil answered, nonchalantly.

“I was talking to Sharon.” I'd turned to her for moral support.

“You don't have call waiting.”

“People complained about being interrupted,” I said. “Now I have voice mail.”

“Well, I'm not here to sell you phone services,” Phil said, sitting down in the recliner.

“What's up, then? You didn't get into it with Sarita again, did you?”

Phil shrugged. “We're cool. We're back to our usual miserable selves.”

“Are you worried about tomorrow?”

“You could say that.” Phil sighed, his eyes looking red and tired. “You got any brew?

“Thanks,” he said, after I handed him a beer. “Where's your cat? How come I never see your cat?” He twisted around in the recliner.

“He's hiding. He doesn't warm up to men that easily.”

“Well, I'm glad that you don't feel that way. I couldn't help but notice that you're wearing your
I LOVE BLACK MEN
T-shirt.” Phil smiled.

I smiled back. “Oh, yeah, I forgot I had it on. You won't believe it, but this is the first time I've worn it. And you show up. What a coincidence.”

“I wish you would wear it out in public, show it to the world.”

“Maybe I will. Anyway, don't worry about tomorrow. You're doing the right thing. And I don't think those bounty hunters will come after you. Not with you in the spotlight. They wouldn't risk it.”

“I wasn't kidnapped,” Phil said matter-of-factly.

“What?”

“I wasn't kidnapped by no bounty hunters.”

“You
weren't
kidnapped by bounty hunters? It never happened?”

“That's right.” Phil hung his head. “I made it all up.”

“Let me sit down,” I said, settling into the couch. “Let me sit
way
the hell down.” I wished I was in the recliner instead of Phil. If he weren't looking so pitiful right now, I'd make him get up. I folded my arms and stared at Phil's bowed head in the lamplight. “Do you mean to tell me that you've been living a lie?”

He sighed and nodded.

“This is deep,” I said, shaking my head.

“Dee Dee, I never asked you to make a big deal out of this,” Phil whined.

“It is a big deal to me when somebody is snatched off the street and stripped of all his civil rights. I
thought
I was fighting an injustice.”

“I'm sorry.”

“Maybe the truth will also make a good story,” I said, sarcastically.

“No, it won't, unless I wanna be sitting up on one of those talk shows.”

“Well, what
really
happened?” I groaned.

“I was up with another woman.”

“You had an affair!” I cut my eyes and sucked my teeth. “Phil, how could you be so messy? I mean, why did you have to disappear for beaucoup days? Whatever happened to afternoon delight? Or meeting every day at the same café at six-thirty? Or noticing the time and having to go, 'Cause it's way past nine?”

“It would still be adultery,” Phil said solemnly.

“Yeah, but you wouldn't have had to invent high drama.”

“One thing just led to another.” He shrugged.

I groaned. “Why do people always say that?”

Phil cleared his throat. “We just met that afternoon. The lady came into my shop to get her hair cut. We hit it off, one thing led to another.”

I rolled my eyes. “Can you be more specific?”

“You know what I mean,” Phil said sheepishly. “We felt it was a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. Her husband was away on business for a few days. It reminded me of that movie Sarita dragged me to see,
Bridges of Madison County
. I planned to tell Sarita that I was at my mother's. And when I remembered that Mama was at a revival and Sarita's sister was with her, it was too late. I just went with the flow. But I had to think quickly. And I came up with the idea of being kidnapped by bounty hunters. I'd seen a front-page story about them on a stack of old newspapers at Kim's place. I decided to come up with that story.”

“Clever,” I said sarcastically.