Playing the Hand You're Dealt (16 page)

BOOK: Playing the Hand You're Dealt
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I couldn't believe I just told him that I loved him. But hey, what did I have to lose? I had already lost him once due to fear and stupidity, and I knew I couldn't let that happen again.This was my chance to make things right, so I continued. “Yes, Tyler, I loved you. And as messed up as it sounds, that's why I did what I did. I knew with my track record that I'd eventually find a way to ruin things, so before we went any further I saved us both the trouble.”
We sat in more silence. I hated the quiet because it was so freakin' uncomfortable. I shifted in my chair. “Are you going to say anything?”
He let out a long, heavy sigh and rubbed his hands over his nicely trimmed goatee. “I know, Sam.”
“You do?”
“I know your story because it was my story, too. A long time ago when I was young and foolish, I sabotaged a meaningful relationship because I felt I needed to end it before I got hurt. After losing my parents, hurt and loss were something I ran from,” he said as he positioned himself closer to me. “After you and I broke up I tried to figure out what had gone wrong between us, then it hit me like a slap on my face.You played the same game that I'd played in my past. So I understood it.”
He was talking about his late wife, Juliet. They had been through trials and tribulations before they finally married, only for him to lose her to kidney disease just a few years later. Tyler had suffered many losses, and now my actions made me feel even worse. “I'm so sorry,” I said softly.
“Me too. But look at us now. We grew from our experiences, and actually, you, our breakup, made me see myself more clearly. Ever since then I've been living my life without fear.”
He paused, reached for my hands, and held them in his. It was a move that startled me. “Sam, you freed me, and that's why I can look at you and smile. I know you didn't mean to hurt me. Sometimes we have to go through pain so we can find joy.”
I didn't cry easily, but Tyler's words nearly caused me to burst into tears. I could feel the drops coming, but I fought them back. I knew I didn't deserve the understanding or kindness this man was giving me, and I let him know. “I don't deserve you,” I said with my head held low.
Tyler placed his finger under my chin and lifted my face so he could meet my eyes. “You're a better person than you think you are, and you deserve a lot more than you limit yourself to.”
This wasn't the way I thought our evening would flow. I knew I needed to apologize to him and that there might be some tense moments in our conversation, but I never bargained for this. The emotions building inside me were overwhelming, almost frightening. I was never good at handling things in a mature, responsible, or adult manner, but that was the way Tyler operated, and I knew that if I wanted to be with him, that was how I needed to start living my life. So I sucked up my fear, stopped feeling sorry for myself, and smiled back at the man I loved.
“That's what I'm talkin' about.” He grinned. “Now, no more talk about the past or apologies. Let's bury that baggage where it belongs and move forward, starting this very minute.”
I smiled with a lightheartedness that I hadn't felt in years. “Sounds like a plan.”
I drove to my parents' house on a mission, making it there in record time. I needed to take a shower, get dressed, and head back over to Tyler's hotel so we could have a late dinner. I was thinking about which outfit I should wear when I saw the light on in the kitchen. Daddy was sitting at the breakfast table having a meal. I walked in and jumped straight into my good news about Tyler and me. But after a few minutes I could see that something was wrong. “Daddy, how're you feeling?” I asked.
“Your old man is beat.”
I took a seat across from him and studied his tired eyes, slumped shoulders, and five o'clock shadow. I knew my daddy well, and his mood seemed much deeper than sore muscles. It couldn't be work because when we talked yesterday, he told me that he'd won his big case. Something else had to be wrong. “Is she back?” I asked, referring to Mother. She was the only person I knew who could kill the joy of a multi-million-dollar settlement.
“No, she's not getting in until tomorrow morning,” he said with a little relief.
“Then what's wrong?”
“Like I said, I'm beat.You're still young, but wait until you get my age.”
“I'm not your age and I'm tired. Emily is, too. As a matter of fact, she's probably soaking in the tub right now.”
“Oh, yeah?”
“Yeah, I just talked to her on my way over here and she's worn out. She finished unpacking most of her things downstairs and she plans to work on the upstairs when Bradley comes over there tomorrow afternoon.”
“Hmmm . . .” he said in a questioning tone.
I read his mind. “Yeah, I know. I'm thinking the same thing, too.” I nodded. “It's just a matter of time before they get back together. He's crazy about her.”
“Is she crazy about him?”
“Emily's so emotional right now, she doesn't know what she wants. Hopefully she'll come to her senses.”
Daddy let out a deep sigh.
“Are you sure you're okay?” I questioned again.
I was about to grill him when Gerti walked through the back door. “Hey, baby girl.” She smiled and bent over to give me a kiss on my cheek. “Here you go,” she said to Daddy, handing him a box of Epsom salt.
He stood up slowly. “Gerti, you're a lifesaver.”
“Tell me something I don't know.” She grinned.
Daddy walked over to me and patted my head like he used to when I was a little girl. “Don't worry about me, I'm fine. Now, if you ladies will excuse me, I'm going upstairs to take a long soak in the tub.”
Gerti and I looked at Daddy as he dragged himself down the hall. “Have you noticed anything strange about Daddy lately?” I asked.
“Strange like what?”
“His behavior. It seems like something's really bothering him. He said he's just tired, but I think there's more to it. He's never like this after a big court victory.”
Gerti picked up her knife and started chopping vegetables at the sink. “He's all right. Just going through a little adjustment.”
“Adjustment to what?”
“Change.” She sighed. “Your father's a good man, and right now he's trying to do the right thing and it's wearing on him.”
I knew she was talking about Mother. She put Daddy through changes every couple of years, trying to make his life a living hell. One year she made him go to marriage counseling. Ironically, I thought the only thing that could fix their marriage was divorce. If Gerti was right, which she usually was, he might finally make that leap. Thinking about change and making leaps drew my mind back to Tyler, and a smile covered my face when I thought about him.
“What has you grinning so hard?” Gerti asked.
I twisted in my seat with excitement as I told her about my visit to Tyler's hotel room.
“I always did like Tyler. He's a fine young man,” Gerti said. “And he's cute, too.”
“Gerti, I love him.” When I said it, she stopped cutting up the vegetables and looked at me. She had never heard me make that kind of declaration.
Gerti wiped her hands on her dish towel and came over to me. She sat down beside me and gave me a warm hug, filling me with emotion as I spoke. “A lot of men have told me that they loved me, but I knew that none of them ever really meant it, and I definitely never told any of them that I loved them back. But I
love
Tyler. I always have, and I hope he loves me, too.”
Gerti tilted her head. “The question is, do you love yourself?”
Leave it to Gerti to flip the script on me right in the middle of a soul-stirring confession. I knew what she was getting at—if I didn't love myself, how could anyone else love me? But it wasn't that easy, and at the moment I didn't feel like exploring those emotions, so I brushed off her question with a joke. “Gerti, you know I love me some me.” I laughed, trying to lighten the mood.
Gerti stared at me, not blinking her eyes. “Sam, I'm gonna tell you something, and I want you to listen up and listen good.There's more to loving yourself than having confidence and a kiss-my-ass attitude. Loving yourself means taking care of yourself and honoring who you are by not allowing just any and everything into your life. It means honoring your body and your mind. And it means being a bigger person by making amends to those who might not deserve it, and showing love to those who do. If you want that man to love you, you better start working on yourself and the choices you make.”
I knew that Gerti was right and that she was talking about the two people who I loved and hated most—my son and my mother.
Chapter 13
Emily . . .
 
 
 
 
The Gift
 
“T
hanks, Ms. Gerti. I don't know what I'd do without you.” I smiled. We were sitting at my dining room table eating the baked chicken and steamed vegetables she had brought over. After we finished our delicious meal I gave her a quick tour of my house, carefully dodging the empty boxes that remained from yesterday's move.
She raved about how much she loved the rich colors I'd chosen for the walls both upstairs and on the main floor, and the detailed fixtures in the kitchen and bathrooms. I had to say that my house was absolutely beautiful. I had decorated with a mixture of African, Middle Eastern, and Mediterranean influences. It was eclectic, but it was also soothing because everything flowed in harmony.
After I finished showing Ms. Gerti around, I poured us two glasses of iced tea and we settled comfortably onto my soft living room sofa.
“You've got a really nice place here, Emily.Your mama would be so proud.”
“Thanks, Ms. Gerti.” I looked over at the picture of my parents on the antique fireplace mantel that Emmanuel had expertly restored.
“You're doing the right thing, sugar.” She nodded. “A lot of people aren't strong enough to do what you've done.”
“What do you mean?”
“You didn't give in to the feelings you've been carrying around for Ed.”
We stared at each other—her with wisdom and knowing in her eyes, and me with bewilderment in mine. “How did you know?”
She smiled and shook her head. “I suspected for a long time. I've watched you two over the years, how you looked at each other, stealing glimpses when you thought no one was watching. Then after you moved up here I could see it as plain as daylight.”
“I'm that obvious?”
“Humph, it ain't just you, sugar. Ed's got that look, too. Got it bad, worse than you. He thinks he's fooling somebody, trying to act like he's just asking me questions about you because he's concerned about how you're coping with things. He knows we talk.” She winked. “But I knew the real reason why he would ask what time you were coming home in the afternoon, if you'd had a good day at work, and if you were going out and making friends.”
Her words gave me the validation that Ed really did have strong feelings for me. But with that validation came the keen awareness that if Ms. Gerti saw the attraction between us, others probably had, too. “Ms. Gerti, do you think anyone else knows?”
I was fairly confident that Samantha didn't have a clue, otherwise she would've confronted me by now, so I held my breath as visions of Brenda flashed through my mind. “Do you think Brenda knows?”
When she shook her head no, I started breathing again.
“No, Brenda's too caught up in herself to pay attention to anyone else, and besides, she'd never even suspect you. And Sam, bless her heart, she can barely see what's in front of her own eyes. You know how your friend is.”
I'd waited eleven years to feel this way, but now there was a strange weight hanging over the moment. So I did what I thought I needed to do. I let it all out. “I love him,” I confessed. “I've loved Ed for so long, right from the beginning. But I couldn't do anything about it.”
Ms. Gerti nodded slowly, listening as I continued.
“I've never loved anyone the way I love him. I've tried to have relationships and I've wanted to fall in love so many times, but my heart just wouldn't allow it because it already belonged to him.” I felt emotionally drained, but I also felt free because for the first time I was able to release what had been bottled up inside me for years.
Ms. Gerti smiled. “Oh, Emily. Child, I know what it's like to love somebody you can't be with.”
“You do?”
“Sure I do. I was young once, and in love.” She sighed, nodding. “I loved a man who I knew I'd never be able to have. It was doomed from the start because we came from different worlds. He was a college student and I was a domestic. He came from one of the most prominent black families in this city, kinda like the Baldwins, only they were a whole lot snootier,” she said, hunching her shoulders. “His people didn't like the notion of him taking up with a housekeeper from Alabama. But it was good while it lasted, and those sweet memories are still with me to this day.”
Ms. Gerti smiled, but there was a sadness swimming behind her eyes that made me feel even more pitiful. Was she saying that I was going to end up like her, with nothing but crushed dreams and the bittersweet memories of something that could never be? As if sensing my fear, Ms. Gerti answered my thoughts.
“I've known Ed a long, long time, and I've seen him and Brenda fall away from each other over the years, some of it her fault, some of it his.Yeah, she's stuck-up, selfish, and a pain in the ass. But, sugar, at the end of the day she's still that man's wife.”
“What if he comes to me? What if he doesn't want that life anymore?”
“Well, I know that whatever I sit here and tell you, your mind is already made up, right?”
“I think so,” I sighed. “I love him so much. I just want to be happy. I want to experience real love.”
“If he comes to you, be prepared for what comes with him.”
I looked at her, knowing exactly what she meant.
“You're gonna gain something, but you're gonna lose something, too, and once you start down that road, sugar, there ain't no turning back.You understand me?”
I thought about the consequences. The wounded feelings and sense of betrayal that were sure to follow. Not just from Brenda, but more importantly, from Samantha. Sleeping with Ed would be a breach of our sisterhood, yet being with him was something I wanted so badly it hurt.
Ms. Gerti and I both looked up when the doorbell rang. “That's Bradley,” I said. I had invited him over because I needed to tell him once and for all, face-to-face, that there was no future for us.
Ms. Gerti shook her head as she stood and gathered her things to leave. “Emily, what you're about to do is like trying to catch a falling knife.” She sighed. “You sure you don't want to give it another try with Bradley? He's such a nice young man.”
I rose to my feet and walked her to the door. “Yes, he is, but he's not the one for me.”
Ruben and I were having dinner at Woodmont Grill. Roger was out of town on business, and Samantha and Tyler were spending the evening together, so the two of us decided we'd hang out. This was one of Ruben's and Roger's favorite restaurants, and I could see why. Not only was the food absolutely delicious and the service top-notch, but the low lighting, dark wood-paneled walls, and luminous candles on the tables created an atmosphere ripe for a romantic dining experience. I'd love to have dinner here with Ed.
“So, what are you going to do about Bradley?” Ruben asked.
“There's nothing
to do
about him,” I responded, taking a bite of my couscous.
“Chica, that's one fine man. I can think of a lot of things I could do with him!”
I laughed. “I'm sure you could. But I told him in no uncertain words that I wasn't interested in anything beyond friendship.”
Ruben chomped down on his steak. “You can't get any more to the point than that.”
“I had to be honest with him because I'd want the same in return.”
“Awww,
listen to you.You're such a good girl.”
I shook my head. “Not really.” If Ruben knew the thoughts that had been running through my mind since last Saturday night, he'd eat those words right along with his succulent filet.
Ruben looked at me and tilted his head. “Don't even think that way,” he said, waving his hand as he made a tsking sound.
“What way?”
“Emily, just because you want to get down with Samantha's father, that doesn't make you a bad person, just a little freaky.” He smiled and winked.
Somehow I wasn't surprised that he knew, and it made me rethink what Ms. Gerti had said about no one else suspecting my true feelings for Ed. “It's a delicate situation,” I said softly.
I was normally very private about my personal life, but because Ruben already knew my secret I decided to share my feelings with him as I had with Ms. Gerti, opening up about my long-held love for Ed. Don't ask me why, but my gut told me that I could trust him. After I finished, Ruben stopped eating his food and gave me a look so serious it made me put down my roasted garlic bread. He nodded, his glistening black hair swaying back and forth over his shoulders.
“Yes, it's time,” he said, barely above a whisper, as if talking to himself.
“Time for what?”
“Emily, I want to tell you something, but I don't want you to become alarmed or dismiss what I'm about to share with you.”
“Okay.” I braced myself for the
Honey, you're headed for trouble if you get involved with a married man
speech.
“I have
the gift,
” he said quietly. He looked into my eyes and held my stare without blinking as he continued. “I have the gift of prophecy. I was born with it. I have the ability to see things that have happened in the past and that will happen in the future. And the spirits speak to me, too.”
I stared back at Ruben without the apparent alarm he'd expected. All Southerners that I knew had either heard of or knew someone with
the gift.
For me, that person was Ms. Marabelle.
When I was ten years old, shortly after my father died, Ms. Marabelle gave me my first reading. I was waiting for my mother after church while she collected canned goods for our youth ministry's food drive. Ms. Marabelle walked by me with slow, labored steps, then stopped and turned around. When I saw her mouth begin to open I panicked because I didn't want to hear what she had to say. I knew it wouldn't be good. She touched my hand with hers, and surprisingly, her heavy-looking fingers felt as light as a feather. “You a good girl, Emily, and you got a good spirit. But you got lots a' heartache waitin' on you down the road.You gon' have yo mama fo' a good lil spell, but then she gon' leave you befo' yo third decade in life . . . fo' you make yo way to the city.”
I didn't know what the old lady's words meant at the time, but a year later my mother was diagnosed with MS, and I stayed as far away from Ms. Marabelle as I could.
Then there was the precious little girl I taught in my kindergarten class back in Atlanta. Her name was Alexandria Thornton, and she was the prettiest little thing I had ever seen. She was smart as a whip and was well advanced beyond her years. But sometimes she'd say and do strange things that made the hairs on my arms bristle. It was the same feeling I'd get whenever Ms. Marabelle was near. I suspected this little girl had
the gift,
too.
One afternoon when her parents came to pick her up from school, her father suffered a heart attack right there in the parking lot. He survived, but it had been a traumatic scene, and Alexandria took it hard. I gave her a little latitude over the next few weeks, allowing her extra time to herself during nap and recess. On one particular day as she sat alone at her desk, she drew a picture that I found oddly curious. “This is my family,” she said, pointing to the paper on which she had drawn a dark-skinned black woman and a white man holding hands with a cream-colored little girl and a dark-complexioned little boy. Alexandria was biracial and had captured her family perfectly. But I was intrigued because she was an only child, so I wondered about the little boy she'd sketched with chocolate-colored skin and eyes that looked like blue marbles. “That's my brother, but he hasn't happened yet,” she told me with a straight face when I inquired.
Her answer didn't shock me because I was used to her saying unusual things, but it did unnerve me. At the end of that term she transferred to a different school, but I never forgot her and I often wondered what became of the beautiful little girl who I suspected had
the gift.
Then last year I was at Lenox Mall doing my holiday shopping when I ran into Alexandria and her family.

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