Never Say Never (17 page)

“Well, I'll make sure to see them before they head out. So . . . Em or I will call you back to confirm tomorrow.”

“Okay!” I hung up the phone feeling just a little bit of hope that some kind of relief from all this grief was on the way.

I glanced up and was surprised to see Mama Cee standing just a few feet from me. “I thought you were still resting.”

“I was. Sounds like you're going out,” she said, still standing in place.

“Yeah. That was Jamal. He and Emily want to take me out to lunch.”

Mama Cee nodded before she walked toward her favorite chair. She settled into the cushions. “You need to get out a little bit and I think the three of you can help each other.”

“That's what I'm thinking. Jamal knows how I feel, and Emily's
been working so hard I'm glad to be able to spend some time with her.”

“Well, don't worry about the boys. Charlie was saying something about taking them to Magic Mountain tomorrow.”

“The boys will love that. But what about you, Mama Cee? I can't see you getting on any roller coasters.” I laughed.

She waved her hands. “That's for you young ones. I don't mind going to the park, though. I'll just take my book, sit, and read while Charlie fools around with the boys. It'll be fun. And it'll give us time to spend with the boys since we have to head home next week.”

“I figured Charlie would have to get back to work soon.” I stood and walked toward the foyer. “I'm going to get dinner started.”

But before I could step away, Mama Cee said, “Have you told the boys about moving to Arizona?”

I took a moment before I faced her. “No, not yet. I want to work everything out in my mind first. But don't worry, Mama Cee. We're moving there. You can count on it.”

She nodded slowly, but didn't speak at first. Instead, her eyes stayed on me as if she was trying to see something that I wasn't saying.

What was wrong?

Then suddenly my mother-in-law turned away. She faced the window and her voice was just a whisper when she said, “I hope so, baby. I really, really hope so.”

16

Emily

M
y toothbrush was in my hand when Jamal entered the bathroom, then eased up behind me. He wrapped his arms around my waist, and I grinned as we both stared at our reflection in the bathroom mirror. I was only wrapped in a black towel; he wore nothing but his white boxer briefs. Through the mirror, I did what I always did when we stood this way; I marveled at the beauty of our contrasts.

“Good morning,” I said.

He responded by pressing his lips against my neck, and then his tongue did small swirls on my skin, sending shivers and memories through me. I closed my eyes, taking in and enjoying each sensation. And then I wondered . . . when was the last time we'd made love?

Seconds passed in my mind—had the last time been the night of the fire?

My eyes snapped open. Impossible!

But when I thought about it some more, it was true. We'd both been so wrapped up. Me, in my work. Him, in his grief. Now, eleven days had passed. For many, that would be no time at all. But for
Jamal and me, making love was our way of life. It's just what we did . . . we ate, we slept, we worked, we smashed.

This was going to have to be fixed. I missed my husband, but not only that, connecting on that level was always therapeutic. Of course, it would be a stress reliever for me, and it would help Jamal's pain. That theory wasn't something that I'd learned in undergrad, grad, or when I'd received my doctorate. That theory wasn't in any textbook, nor was it part of any study. That theory was what I knew in my gut: sex was great relief from grief.

So, I needed to get on my job. Tonight. No, this afternoon. As soon as we came back from lunch, I would toss my husband on the bed and have my way with him. Over and over again.

When Jamal leaned back, a smile was on his face. “Good morning.” He finally spoke his first words to me. “Do you know how long it's been since we've shared this bathroom in the morning?”

“I know, babe.”

When he stepped toward the shower, he said, “I'm just glad you didn't have to work today.”

“I have the whole weekend,” I said, then rinsed out my mouth. “I'm so glad to have this little break.”

“Yeah, you've been worried about me, but you need to take care of yourself, too,” he said.

Turning around, I leaned against the edge of the sink and watched my husband through the clear shower doors. He loved cool showers, so the bathroom never steamed up with him the way it did with me. At this moment, I was grateful for that, and as he lathered up with the soap, I had the chance to appreciate every inch of his excellence.

If we weren't going to lunch with Miriam—

I said, “Don't worry, babe. I'm going to take care of myself and take care of you, too.”

For a moment, he stopped what he was doing and grinned. “Watch out now. Don't start none, won't be none.”

“Oh, I'm gonna be starting something. As soon as we get back home.”

He laughed, then went back to soaping up.

I said, “I'm really glad we're taking Miriam out.”

Jamal replied, “I was hoping to get a chance to see the boys, too, but Mama Cee and Charlie are taking them to Magic Mountain.”

“That's cool. I want to spend some time with them, too, since they're going back to school on Monday.”

His back was to me now, but I still kept my eyes on my husband. This was the first time I'd heard more happiness than sadness in his voice. Maybe the talk we had helped. And if talking could do this much, what would sexing do?

If I didn't stop thinking about sex, we'd never make it to lunch. Turning away, I rushed into our bedroom. I needed to be dressed before my husband got out of the shower.

Less than forty-five minutes later, we were in Jamal's car, heading down La Brea toward Inglewood. As he drove, we didn't say a word, at least not out loud. Jamal drove with one hand, and with the other, he held mine. Every few minutes, he squeezed, letting me know how much he loved me. Every time, I squeezed back. I didn't even have to look at him. We knew what we meant to each other.

He didn't let go of me until he stopped the car in front of Chauncey and Miriam's house; that's how I still thought of it. One day, I'd see it as just Miriam's home. But not yet. I guess that was my own grief, my own way of holding on for a little longer.

I hopped out of the car and knocked on the front door.

“Hey, honey,” I said the moment Miriam opened it. I hugged her tightly. “I feel like I haven't seen you in forever.”

“It's great to see you,” she said with an enthusiasm that I hadn't heard in the almost two weeks since Chauncey had been gone.

I stepped back to get a better look at my friend. This was as good as I'd heard Miriam sound, and this was certainly as good as she'd looked. She was wearing an outfit that I'd never seen before—a long, T-strap sundress with all the colors of fall. Her low-heeled gold sandals were the perfect accent, along with her hoop earrings, which were such a change from the little pearls she always wore.

Who was this girl?

“You look terrific.”

“Do I?” she asked, smoothing back her hair, which was still in her signature bun.

“Yeah, you really do. So, you're ready to go?”

She nodded and I put my arm around her shoulders after she locked the door. Then we moved toward the car, almost skipping like schoolgirls.

I had no idea what was helping Miriam to ease out of her grief, but whatever it was, I wanted to grab some and squeeze it into a bottle, so that I could use it as needed: a little for Jamal, a little for Miriam, when necessary.

Jamal stood, holding the car doors open for both of us. “Check out Ms. Miriam,” I said.

As he reached out to hug her, my cell phone rang. Before I even looked down at the screen, I knew it was trouble. I held up a finger. “I have to take this.”

Jamal nodded as I moved a few steps away.

“Doctor Harrington!”

The urgency in Mr. Miller's voice brought tears to my eyes. “Mr. Miller! What's wrong?”

“We're at Children's Hospital. It's . . . it's . . . LaTonya. Please, can you come?”

“Of course. I'm on my way.” I was already moving as I clicked off my phone. To Jamal, I said, “It's LaTonya.”

I didn't share many details of my clients with my husband; patient/client confidentiality was serious to me. But I'd told him that LaTonya was having a particularly difficult time.

He nodded. “Okay.”

I took two steps toward his car, then stopped. “I don't have my car.”

“Take mine, of course.” He glanced at Miriam. “Don't worry about us. We'll take Miriam's car, right?”

“Definitely. I'll drop you home,” she said.

“Okay. I'm so sorry.” I kissed Jamal, then slid behind the wheel.

LaTonya was in the hospital . . . what had she done?

As I slowly backed out of the driveway, I had one of those sinking feelings in the pit of my stomach.

This was not going to be a good day.

17

Miriam

J
amal and I watched Emily speed away.

“It's horrible what Emily has to deal with,” I whispered. “I'm so grateful my boys are doing well. At least as well as can be expected.”

“Death is tough for adults. I can't imagine what it's like for a child who can't fully grasp the finality of it.”

“That's the part that's hard. Mama Cee, Charlie, and I talked to the boys last night. About how they felt, about missing their dad.”

He turned to face me. “Really?”

I nodded. “I know you wanted to be here when we did that, but it just kinda happened.”

“So how did it go?”

“I'm not sure how much Stevie really grasps the whole concept. And even Mikey goes back and forth. I was most concerned about Junior, but he seems to be coping. He's been trying to step in a lot with his brothers. I think he feels like he's the man of the house now.”

That made Jamal smile. “He's a good kid.”

“And I want him to remember that. I don't want this to change his life in that way. I don't want him to grow up before he's supposed to.”

“You're a good mom for recognizing that.”

“I'm gonna keep my eyes on him, on all my boys. I just hope they'll be all right.”

“Well, you know if they need to talk to anyone, one of Emily's colleagues will be glad to step in.”

I nodded. “You guys will be the first ones I call if I see any signs. I don't want anyone speeding down the road one day because Junior, Mikey, or Stevie are in trouble.”

Jamal said, “Well, I guess it's just you and me. For lunch. Is that okay with you?”

“Of course. I just have to go back inside to get my car keys.”

When I turned, Jamal followed me up the driveway and to the front door. I had no idea why my hand shook as I put the key in the lock.

It must've been the call that Emily received.

Once we were inside, I said to Jamal, “The keys are in my bedroom.” I left him standing by the front door, then walked into the bedroom and grabbed the keys from the dresser. I stood in front of the mirror for an extra couple of moments. My hands were still shaking slightly. What in the world had me so jittery?

It had to be Emily.

Back in the living room, I was surprised to see that Jamal had settled on the couch. He looked so easy, so at home, that whatever had me shaking faded quickly. I said, “You know what? Do you want to just stay here? We can order in for lunch.”

He grinned. “I was thinking the same thing. Since it's just us, it'll be easier this way.”

“Yeah.” Then I waved him over. “Come on. In the kitchen we have every menu for every restaurant within fifty miles.”

“All right then,” he said as he followed me. We checked out the Chinese, Thai, American, Italian, Indian menus, but after ten minutes of no decision, I finally said to Jamal, “You know what we should do?”

Then together we said, “Order pizza!”

We laughed as I picked up the phone and dialed the number. We ordered a cheese pizza and some wings, and then I set the table as if we were having a four-course dinner. By the time I poured a glass of lemonade and Jamal grabbed a beer from the fridge, our lunch had arrived.

Now Jamal took over, paying the delivery guy, then filling our plates with pizza and drumettes. Once we sat down, he prayed over our food and we settled into our meal.

After taking my first bite, I released a moan. “This is good.”

“What? The pizza?”

“No. The fact that I don't feel like I'm in the depths of hell at this moment. I mean, my heart never stops hurting, but this is the first day I can say I'm feeling a little better.”

Jamal nodded. “I feel you. This is the first morning I woke up feeling halfway good, too. Made me hopeful.”

“Me, too!”

Jamal blew out a long breath. “I'm feeling all of this emotion and grief, and Chauncey and I were just friends.”

I shook my head. “You don't believe that. You were closer than brothers. Everybody knew that.”

Jamal nodded. “Mama Cee always quoted that scripture to us. Proverbs 18:24. And she was right, because we were like brothers five minutes after we met.”

The thought of that made me smile. “Friends since you were nine.” I stated the fact that Chauncey had told me many times.

“Yup,” he said, chomping on a chicken wing. “The fourth grade. It was the cap that Chauncey was wearing that started it.”

“The cap?”

“Yeah, snapbacks, those athletic hats that everyone wears now. They were just getting big back then. And back in the day, they used
to be blank and we would have our own letters pressed on. Whatever we wanted.

“Anyway, the first day of school, Chauncey shows up wearing this snapback with ‘Billie Jean Is Not My Lover' on the front.”