The Morning After (8 page)

She corrected a typographical error, and for the next ten minutes managed to fight the thoughts that had disturbed her focus throughout the process and stay in writer's mode; focusing only on the project currently displayed on her computer screen. But as soon as she placed the period on the closing sentence, her thoughts wandered back to the plight of her unconventional marriage.

Elaine stood from her computer, deciding that now was a good time for an afternoon snack. She hadn't eaten since the half grapefruit she prepared for herself after her morning run. The walk down the hall was only a few feet, but on days like today, it seemed longer. Unhurried steps brought her into the kitchen where a fresh pot of coffee had been brewing. She eyed the box of glazed donuts that Mason had purchased from Krispy Kreme on their way home from church yesterday and licked her lips. It had been over a year since she'd had one. Deciding that she had earned the reward, Elaine took one of the round desserts out of the box, quickly bit into it and moaned.

The taste was so pleasurable that Elaine felt as though she would cry. She made quick work of that one, then grabbed another before closing the box and filling her cup with coffee. Sweetening her drink with three packets of Splenda and flavoring it with a healthy dose of Vanilla Toffee Caramel nondairy creamer from International Delight, Elaine inhaled and relished the aroma before blowing through the steam and taking her first sip. “Ooh! Too hot.” She placed the ceramic cup on the counter to give it a moment to cool.

As a part of her quest to shed the pounds that had invaded her body without consent, Elaine had rid her diet of a lot of things that online research had recommended, but she refused to deprive herself of her coffee. She had at least one cup every day—sometimes two, depending on her workload. The caffeine kept her attentive as she labored to meet the deadlines of her many literary obligations.

“Okay, Elaine. What are you gonna do about this man of yours? This foolishness has gone on way too long. You've got to use your feminine wiles to find a way to break through this tough barrier of his.” She gave herself the motivational address while pacing back and forth on the tiles that covered her kitchen floor and nibbling on the remains of her dessert. In spite of the severity of the matter, Elaine broke into a laugh. She imagined that this was the same agonizing process that female groupies went through when they plotted to bed a big-time actor, recording artist, or NBA superstar. “This is crazy,” she concluded. “I shouldn't have to go through these kinds of changes in order to score with my own husband.”

Elaine licked residue glaze from her fingers and reclaimed her cup before walking from the kitchen into the living room. She stopped a few inches from the sofa where her husband slept nightly and tossed it the most hateful glare she could conjure. Hoping that doing so would somehow hurt the feelings of the inanimate object, she rolled her eyes as hard as she could, then blew again into her cup before strolling into her bedroom and closing the door behind her. Elaine took another sip of the liquid and determined that it was still too hot to fully enjoy. She placed the cup on the chest of drawers that was situated not five feet from the bed that she and Mason used to share. From there, she walked into the bathroom to scrutinize her image in the mirror.

“Is it me? Am I still too fat? Is that it?” she grilled herself as she stood turning from side to side to see if there were more physical flaws that she needed to work on. “The scale says I weigh less than I did when we got married, but Mason sure isn't acting like it. There's something about me that he finds so offensive that it makes him not even want to touch me. What is it? Maybe I need to lay off the carbs,” she said, pinching her waistline to see if she could grab more than an inch.

Layer by layer, Elaine peeled away the clothing from her body, looking for that one menacing imperfection or stubborn blemish that was making her husband abhor her most. Yes, she had breached their wedding vows in the worst way when she got swept away by Danté, but that was over a year ago, and Elaine believed that Mason had forgiven her. Had he not, she would have been single a long time ago. Mason wouldn't just keep her around to torture her. In fact, had her husband not genuinely pardoned her of her past sins, Elaine was sure that keeping her around would be more unbearable for him than it would her.

For a long while, she looked at her nude silhouette in the mirror, examining every inch of her physical makeup. The same image that had looked satisfactory to her yesterday, appeared repugnant today. Something about the revolting reflection in the mirror made her husband rather sleep alone.

Elaine's eyes dropped to the lower half of her body. That had to be it.
Every woman in the McKinney family has this big ole butt. Grandma Celeste had it, Mama had it, and now they've passed it down to me.
She scowled in indignation. If she wanted to save her marriage, she had to get rid of the “McKinney behind.”

Elaine turned and faced the larger part of their master bathroom, knowing what she would have to do. She thought she'd gotten past this stage. She thought that she'd done it enough and could just eat right and exercise to maintain the progress she'd made. But apparently not. She had to continue the radical course until she had improved herself to the point where Mason would want to be her husband in every way. Turning again and looking at herself straight in the face, Elaine noticed a morsel of sugar in the corner of her mouth, left behind by one of the two donuts she'd devoured. She couldn't believe that after all this time she still hadn't built up enough willpower so that measly temptations such as pastries wouldn't overpower her. She almost felt sick just thinking about it.

“Greedy pig!” she scolded in ridicule of her actions. Regretful tears rolled down her cheeks, leaving hot trails of moisture. “See what you did? That's why Mason doesn't want you. Not only are you fat, disgusting, and barren, but you're also a pig.” The tears were so thick now that Elaine could no longer see, but that didn't stop her from berating herself. “You're a fat, disgusting, barren pig!”

Running to the commode as if her life depended on how swiftly she could get there, Elaine stood over the gaping hole, stuck her fingers as far back in her mouth as she could, and braced for the release of the evils that had built a gargantuan wall between her and Mason.

When she kicked off her shoe, the force she used to do so sent the four-inch-heeled pump sailing clear across the room, only coming to a stop because the concrete wall of her bedroom wouldn't allow it to go any farther. Over the last twenty-four hours, Jennifer's emotions had gone through a continuous cycle of sadness, confusion, and anger. She was in angry mode now, but she could feel impending tears that would soon usher her back to square one.

“How could I have been so stupid!” she screamed, sending a shrilling echo throughout her room, followed by her left shoe on a jet-speed mission to join the right one. Plunking on the side of the bed, Jennifer buried her face in her hands. The exhale that she released was more of an animal-like growl. The tears were still building, but they weren't ready to break loose yet. There was still too much rage blocking the way.

Jennifer's disgust was more with herself than anyone else, and it was two-fold. She couldn't believe how totally convinced she had been that she would wake up this morning with an engagement ring on her finger. Even as she thought back, all outward signs pointed to the certainty that a bent knee proposal would take place at Benihana yesterday afternoon. There was absolutely no doubt in her mind that T.K. was going to ask her to marry him. Even as he reached in his coat to reveal the “surprise” that he'd been dangling over her and Jerrod's head like yarn for a kitten, Jennifer trembled with excitement. When he pulled out a folded slip of paper, opened it, and began reading an e-mail exchange that he'd had with an affiliate of Fox 5 News, Jennifer's heart plummeted.

That was the second reason that she was so aggravated with herself. Although what T.K. revealed wasn't the ring that she'd hoped—no,
prayed
for—she should have been elated at what the e-mail said. Jerrod, her son, who had known little else other than failure and trouble for the better part of his life, was going to be interviewed for a special news feature that would be shown on tonight's broadcast.

“I'm almost running at Olympic medal speed?” Jerrod's eyes had bulged in his head as he asked the question. “They're gonna put me on the news? Oh, man, Coach D, this is huge! This is cool, ain't it, Ma? Oh, man! We need to hurry up so I can go home and be straight for sho' by the time the news folks roll up.”

“You don't have time for that, kid,” T.K. had replied. “Fox 5 is coming here.”

“Right here at the restaurant?”

“That's right. They'll be here in less than an hour. But before they come, I scheduled the—”

“T.K. Donaldson, my man. What it do, brotha?”

T.K. hadn't even finished his sentence before Hunter Greene, son-in-law of Reverend B.T. Tides, and owner of
Atlanta Weekly Chronicles
, walked into the restaurant with a photographer following close behind. In recent years,
Atlanta Weekly Chronicles
had grown to be just about the hottest weekly newspaper around.

Although it was based in Atlanta, it had hardcopy and online subscribers all over the country and as far outside of the U.S. as Croatia. By the time Fox 5 arrived, Hunter had not only interviewed Jerrod and had his photographer take photos, but he'd joined them for dinner.

All while the Fox 5 cameras were rolling and the brunette reporter shot questions to Jerrod and T.K., Jennifer stood quietly in a corner trying her best not to cry. She lost the battle when they insisted that she make an appearance on camera as well. As she answered the question of how she felt about her son's status and the knowledge of his inevitable future as a USA Track & Field star, Jennifer broke down. Now that it was all over, she found comfort in the fact that the thousands of eyes that would be watching the instant replay on tonight's news would draw the same conclusion as Jerrod, T.K., and the media had; that she was a proud mother who was just so overcome with joy that she couldn't form words. The truth of the matter was that Jennifer's heart was shattered by the disappointment that the same finger she'd left void of jewelry as she got dressed that morning would still be naked when she returned home.

The distress of it all had been so great that she left work an hour earlier than normal. All day long, Jennifer had managed to persuade her boss and coworkers that her dismal mood was because she was ill. She had never told a more precise truth. Ill was exactly what she was. Jennifer was sick with misery.

Four rings from her phone weren't enough to pull Jennifer from her bed. The fifth ring would send the caller to voice mail and she couldn't care less. She continued sitting on the side of her bed with her head lowered as her greeting blared over the telephone's speaker system, ending with a resounding beep, prompting the caller to leave a message.

“Hey; it's T.K.”

Jennifer's eyes darted toward the phone, and for a second, they showed a trace of that glow that always sparked when T.K. called. An instant later, she had reclaimed her defeated pose—downcast eyes and all.

T.K.'s voice continued. “I've been trying to reach you all day, Jen; where are you? I got your voice mail at work when I tried to call you around lunchtime, and I just called again and somebody there told me you'd gone home for the day. I tried your cell a few minutes ago, but I got your voice mail there too. I guess you got off early to get prepared for Jerrod's big moment.” T.K. paused to insert a chuckle, then he said, “It's been wild at school today. Everybody is excited for the kid, and he deserves it. Mr. Wright even called out his name over the intercom, and when you understand that the principal of this school isn't one for liberally handing out individual props, you know how major that is. Anyway, just about the whole school will be watching the six o'clock news, I'm sure. Call me when you get home, okay? Maybe I can come over and all of us can watch it together. Bye.”

The angry Jennifer had disappeared at some point, and she had once again been replaced by the distressed one. A steady stream of tears began leaking from the young mother's eyes about midway through T.K.'s message, and in the silence that followed, the flow continued.

“How could I have been so stupid?” She reverted back to her initial question. “It all makes so much sense now. I don't know why in the world I thought he was gonna ask me to marry him. What made me draw that conclusion?”

Almost as if offering an answer to the question Jennifer had posed to no one in particular, her mind replayed the scene of T.K.'s insinuation of a surprise that he wanted to unveil over dinner. It wasn't what he said so much as the way he'd said it. When T.K. whispered the announcement in her ear, and then told her that Jerrod needed to be there too because of the impact, Jennifer couldn't imagine the surprise being anything other than a proposal accompanied by a matching ring. But when she thought back on it now, with a mind not cluttered by lovesick fantasies, it all made sense.

“Proposal? Why would T.K. propose to me? Don't you have to love somebody before you want to marry them?”

The impact of her own questions sent a sharp pain stampeding through Jennifer's body like a team of untamed horses. She wasn't sure when it happened, but at some point during their courtship, she'd fallen head over heels in love with the man that her son called Coach D. But not once had T.K. voiced the same for her. When she was around him, she
felt
loved. When they went to the movies without Jerrod in tow, he would hold her hand and allow her to snuggle up to him in the darkened theatre. The first time he kissed her, Jennifer could have sworn that she felt the earth rotating on its axis. That was eight months ago, but she recalled the night as if only eight minutes had passed since the brief, but momentous lip-lock.

It was a Saturday night, and T.K. had invited Jennifer to join him at an Atlanta hot spot called Café 209, where a local saxophonist by the name of Antonio Allen would be making a special live appearance. The celebrated musician was best known for the gospel/jazz flavor of his brass instrument, and on that night, he would be playing music from his popular romantic CD entitled
Forever & Always
. The restaurant's low lighting, coupled with the sound of the soulful serenade that filled the room, made for a setting more intimate than any other that T.K and Jennifer had experienced in their young relationship. Even now, in her saddened state, Jennifer couldn't help but close her eyes and savor the moment with fondness.

T.K. had stood from his seat, and with an extended hand, he nonverbally invited her to dance with him. Slipping his arms around Jennifer's waist, T.K. took the lead and the two of them joined many other couples who had been caught up in the moment of the ambiance. In the middle of the song, Jennifer felt T.K. pull away slightly. When she looked up at him, wondering why he'd stopped his rhythmic swaying, he placed both his hands on her cheeks, and then lowered his lips to meet hers.

The vivid memories of it all sent recycled chills down Jennifer's spine. They'd shared many kisses since that time, and for Jennifer, they all spoke an unmistakable love that T.K. never voiced. But now, there was little in her life that she was more unsure of than the way the high school coach felt about her. Literally overnight, she'd gone from thinking he loved her enough to marry her to thinking she was little more to T.K. than a passing fling. He was just like all the rest.

“It's your own dumb fault for jumping to conclusions,” she mumbled while wiping away residue tears. Jennifer had been by herself for a long time, and it wasn't getting any easier. She desired to be married and a part of a family that came complete with a full-time father for her son. Several things made her believe that T.K. would fill that void. For one, he was everything she could ask for in a husband—both physically and spiritually. But that alone hadn't tipped the scale. Jennifer had been in love before, and she knew that she hadn't always had the best judgment where the opposite sex was concerned. But this time she had confirmation that she thought was infallible. Not only did she like T.K. Donaldson, but so did Essie Mae Richardson.

Jennifer recalled the first time she met her son's track coach. She and Essie had been standing on Essie's porch together when the tall, brown, handsome stranger parked his car on the curb in front of the elderly woman's home and got out with Jerrod shadowing him. He was bringing Jerrod home from school that day after the then troubled teen had stayed after school for a one-on-one chat session with his favorite educator. T.K.'s impression on Essie had been just as instant as it had been on Jennifer. While Jennifer might have questioned her own instincts, she would never have second-guessed Essie's intuition, and the wise widow had gotten good vibes from T.K.

“Did he fool both of us, Ms. Essie?” Jennifer scanned the white paint of the bedroom's ceiling as she asked the question. “You knew everything, so you would have picked up on it if he were gonna turn out to be just like all the rest, wouldn't you? You would have warned me if I were just gonna be strung along, right?”

Jennifer would have paid top dollar to hear Essie's wisdom-filled voice offer some form of insight, but she knew that God wasn't passing out that kind of supernatural fortune. Somehow Jennifer would have to figure this one out on her own. She hadn't been saved all that long, but even from her childhood days, she remembered her own grandmother telling her that God answered prayers. The old wheelchair bound woman would always say, “He may not come when you want Him, but He's always on time.” Jennifer refused to believe that her time was not yet. She'd prayed for the Lord to fulfill her needs—to make her family complete. And in her spirit, she felt that He'd promised to grant her heart's desire. Could she have been wrong in her interpretation of God's confirmation?

A sudden thought terrified Jennifer, causing her to sit up straight for the first time in a long while.
Can it be?
And then speaking aloud with eyes filling with regretful tears, she concluded, “Maybe God
is
trying to give me what I need, but I'm allowing my own desires to block my blessing. I'm trying to make T.K. fit the mold, but maybe the fact of the matter is . . . he's just not the answer to my prayer.”