Never Say Never (13 page)

I recognized the voice right away and it stopped me cold—well, maybe it didn't totally stop me, but it slowed me down. Even though I knew who was on the other end, I spoke as if I didn't. “Yes, this is Emily Harrington.”

“Uh, Emily. This is Jamal.”

“Jamal?”

“Yes, Jamal Taylor, Chauncey's friend.”

I let a couple of moments pass as if I was trying to connect the dots, even though I was sure that Jamal knew I was pretending. It was true that he and I weren't friends, but we'd seen each other numerous times since he'd brushed me off three years ago. It was hard to stay out of each other's path when our best friends were dating and then had finally married. But it didn't matter the occasion: whenever I saw Jamal, I was aloof. He barely got a hello out of me and never a good-bye.

But now, here he was, on the other end of my phone.

“Oh, Jamal,” I said. “I didn't recognize your voice.”

“That's cool. It's not like you hear me all the time. How're you?”

“Good. What can I do for you?” I asked, keeping my words and my tone formal.

“If you have a moment, I want to talk to you about Miriam and Chauncey. You know their first anniversary is coming up in about two months.”

I waited a beat. “I know that. And . . .” I said, keeping my cool facade, though I was heating up just at the sound of his voice.

“Well, I wanted to do something special for them.”

“Like?” I wasn't giving him an inch.

He proceeded. “I was thinking about doing something like a destination party. Having a first-anniversary celebration in Maui for them.”

I couldn't help it. I stopped moving. Maui! Now, that was special. “Wow!” I said.

“Yeah,” he said, sounding as if he was pleased to get a positive word out of me. “I was hoping we could get a bunch of their friends to gather their pennies and go down there for a long weekend or something. I was going to pay for Miriam and Chauncey. You know, their airfare and hotel.”

“Wow!” I said again, hating myself for being impressed.

“So, that's the idea,” he said, “but I need someone to help me work it out, and that's why I'm calling.”

Oh, okay, was I really supposed to believe that? I was sure he really did need help, but this felt like a ruse to spend time with me. I knew it! I'd always known it: Jamal liked me.

Then he said, “I called Michellelee, but she told me that she was going to be in Indiana covering the upcoming McVeigh execution.”

And with just those few words, he'd blown up my world. I just needed to stop thinking that there would ever be anything between me and Jamal and just help him out for Miriam's sake.

“So, what do you need from me?” I asked, speeding up my steps.

“Help with the planning. I need a partner to make sure that I do it right and don't forget anything.”

“Sure, I'll help.”

“Great, great. Well then, let's get together. Maybe we could go out to dinner.”

Going out to dinner was one of the things I wanted to do with
him from the moment he walked through our door. But I said, “Dinner would be difficult. My schedule is quite full. How about we just meet for coffee?”

“Okay.”

Did I detect a tinge of disappointment in his voice?

He said, “Do you have any time today or tomorrow?”

“No,” I said bluntly, even though my schedule, except for studying, was completely open. “I'm busy, so let's do Saturday morning.”

“I was hoping to meet with you sooner.”

“Sorry, but like I said—”

“You're busy,” he finished for me.

“Yes, so let's do Saturday,” I said, feeling like, finally, I had some control. “At Magic's Starbucks. The new one in Ladera.” That was right around the corner from Miriam's and I could hook up with her afterward.

“That'll work. You wanna meet around nine?”

“Let's make it ten,” I said.

He laughed as if he was onto my game. “Okay, ten it is. Thanks, Emily.”

When I hung up the phone, I was mad at myself on so many levels. I was mad because I'd thought that he had called me, Emily Harrington, because he wanted to talk to me, Emily Harrington. And then I was mad because I even cared.

But at least I made it to my class on time, though I really could have done without the lecture. It was hard to concentrate with Jamal Taylor on my mind.

He stayed on my mind for the next two days. And he was really on my mind when I woke up on Saturday morning at five o'clock trying to decide what I was going to wear five hours later.

By eight, I was sick of myself, as I marched back and forth from
my closet to my bed. “I'm just going to have coffee. This is no big deal.”

But the fact that half of my closet was thrown across my bed and shoes and boots were tossed everywhere let me know that something my daddy always told me was true: a fool could never fool himself.

Finally, I made a choice, but only because it was nine-fifteen and I refused to be late. I put on my rhinestone-studded jeans with the matching jacket, and I strutted up to Starbucks with nothing but confidence. That is, until I saw him sitting under one of the green umbrellas outside.

But I kept my stride as if he had no effect on me, and when he stood to greet me, I congratulated myself on still breathing.

“Hey,” he said in that voice. He reached out and held me in an awkward hug, and I quickly slipped away. “So, you wanna go in and get a drink?”

“That's why I suggested Starbucks.” I started walking toward the door, not even waiting for him.

He was quick, though, and right behind me. I had no doubt his eyes were on me. Too bad there wasn't much to see from behind. Now, if he was in front and walking backward, I would've given him quite a show.

We gave our orders to the barista: a chai tea latte for me, and the bold pick of the day for him. Straight, no chaser, no cream, no sugar—nothing but black coffee.

Once we had our drinks in hand, he said, “It's kinda nice. Let's sit outside.”

“Let's sit in here,” I responded, and led the way. Sitting at the table, I pulled out my PalmPilot and got right to business. “I'm going to take some notes.”

“Wait a minute, Emily.” He reached across the table, touched my
hand, and the electricity shot straight from my fingers down to my toes. He said, “I've wanted to apologize to you for a while now, but you never gave me much of a chance.”

At least he'd noticed that he'd been ignored.

“That's why I called Michellelee first,” he said. “ 'Cause I had images of you hanging up on me, and I would've deserved it. But can I have a moment to explain?”

I leaned back in my chair, crossed my arms. That was my signal that he could go on.

“When we met, I really liked you and I thought we were going to be great friends. But then you called and were talking about dinner and going out, and I didn't see you that way.”

“Why not? We talked for what, two, three hours? You liked me, I liked you. So what was it?” I put my finger to my head as if I was thinking for a moment. “Oh, yeah,” I said, as if I'd just remembered. “I was an ineligible player, all because I was . . .”

I stopped so that he could finish, but all he did was lower his eyes.

“That's what I'm sorry about. Because I should've never said that. I should've just told you that I wanted to be friends and not said anything else.”

“You're right about that.”

“I really
wanted
to be friends. You were so cool. You're still cool.”

“How do you know that? I could have cooled off.”

“You haven't.” He grinned. “Plus, I keep up with what's going on with you through Miriam and Chauncey.”

“Oh really? Why?” I hoped my tone sounded like I was just curious and really didn't care. But inside, my heart was doing some kind of thumpity-thump-thump thing.

“Because I wanted to know what was going on with you and I was mad at myself for missing out on a good friendship. So I
apologize for the way it went down and I really hope that we can be friends.”

I shrugged. “Let's just see what happens,” I said, knowing full well that when I got back to my apartment, I'd be dancing all night.

For the next couple of hours we talked and planned, forgetting that I was Emily, the white girl, and he was Jamal, the black guy. We were just Emily and Jamal, friends of Miriam and Chauncey, planning the surprise party of the century.

“Now about the expenses,” I said. “I can help out, and I'm sure Michellelee will want to help as well.”

“No, I got this. My grandmother left me some money back when she passed and I've been waiting for the right time to spend a little bit of it. This is it.”

Awww. I was trying my best not to look at him with puppy-dog eyes, but I was sure that, the way I was adoring him, he was soon going to be calling me Rover.

“Now, you guys,” he began, “y'all are gonna have to pay your own way. I ain't that special.”

“Oh, don't worry. I'm gonna pay my way. Because if a guy were to pay for a trip like this for me, he would definitely want something that he definitely wouldn't get.”

He laughed. “I knew I liked you.”

“I knew you liked me, too.”

We sat back and laughed together . . .

That was the
moment that broke the ice, that opened the door, that encouraged me to pursue this man once again. And thank God I did, because in Maui, our world changed.

Those memories always made me smile. But not today.

My eyes were still on my husband as he stayed in his prayerful stance. Then, without opening his eyes or lifting his head, Jamal reached out his hand toward me and I rushed through the fog of sadness that was so heavy in our bedroom. When I sat on the bed, he wrapped his arms around me and I held him as if I was trying to blend us into one.

Finally, he kissed my forehead. “You look tired.” His fingertips trailed along the side of my face.

“You do, too. What time did you get in last night?” I asked.

He looked away for a moment. “It wasn't that late. I waited until everyone had left and Chauncey's mom had gone to bed. And then, I left Miriam . . . and Charlie.” He turned back to me. “I didn't want to wake you when I got home. I know how hard you've been working.”

I nodded. “How's Miriam?”

He shrugged. “She's hanging in there for the boys and for Mama Cee and Charlie.”

“I just hope she really understands . . .”

Jamal pressed his forefinger against my lips. “She does.”

I released a sigh of relief. “She keeps telling me that she doesn't know what she would've done without you.”

“Well, Charlie's been there, too.”

“Yeah, but you're closer to Miriam and the boys. I know Charlie is their uncle, but Junior, Mikey, and Stevie are used to having you around.” I took a breath. “So, everything is ready?”

He nodded. “The only thing left is . . . to say good-bye.”

There it was again, that burn behind my eyes. “Well, I got up because I knew you'd want to get there early.” I stood, but Jamal pulled me back down onto the bed.

“No.”

“No?”

“I've been there every day. I've helped with everything. Now they need some time together as a family.”

“They consider you family, Jamal. I'm sure they want you there this morning.”

“We'll meet them at the church.” He pulled me close to him again. “All I want is to spend some time with you.”

He kissed me, a gentle kiss. And even as the towel around me loosened and fell away, all Jamal did was kiss me. There was nothing sexual behind our connection. This was a kiss that was pure love.

Pulling me down onto the bed, he covered us both with the duvet. “I just want you to hold me,” Jamal said.

I squeezed him as tightly as I could.

We rested in the silence, and even though sadness was still thick in the air, I found comfort in Jamal's arms.

After a few minutes, he said, “I can feel him, Emily.”

I stayed quiet, wanting just to listen. If there was one contention in our marriage, it was that sometimes Jamal felt as if I was analyzing him. So I was always careful, but especially now, in this moment.

I didn't say anything until Jamal repeated his words, and then I only said, “I know.”

More silence before he asked, “Do you feel him?”

As much as I wanted to tell Jamal that I did, we never lied to each other. Not even about the little things. “No,” I said. “I don't, but I know you do. I think you're going to feel him for a long time.”

When Jamal nodded, I snuggled even closer.

He said, “I've been fine till now. But now that the day is here . . . I don't know if I can do it.”

I released a quiet sigh. Jamal's words were so similar to Miriam's. It hadn't occurred to me before, but my husband and my best friend were sharing the same pain, and I was even more grateful they had each other.