Till We Meet Again (14 page)

1

1991

     “Tommy stop pulling on the curtain.”

     “But I want to see when Daddy’s truck pulls up.”

Thomas had called the night before saying he was in New York and wanted to see the boys. Tommy and Aiden were now 5 and 6 years old.

Within six months of the boys and I moving back to Westchester County their dad broke up with his girlfriend and moved to Florida for a while and then back to New York and then back to Florida again. For a few years I had no idea where he was. But when I found out he was back in New York again I tried to get him to pay some child support but he wouldn’t. When I got my job as a Receptionist/Client Associate at Stillman Brothers I took him to court and tried to get child support that way.  Technically, I was one of the working poor and was still on Section 8. If I could get a decent amount of child support then maybe I could afford to get off of Section 8.  I had the court papers for child support sent to his parents’ house since I didn’t know exactly where he lived just that it was in the same town.

The first time we went to court Thomas conveniently quit his job just before the court date stating that the fumes from the garage he was working in were making him sick. The judge ordered him to pay $25 a week for two babies! That didn’t even cover diapers. He paid once. Then when I took him back to court again, he never bothered to show up. My job was getting annoyed with me as I kept taking time off for “this court thing”. So the third time he didn’t show up I asked the court to put a warrant out for his arrest. I didn’t want him to go to jail but I figured he would pay to avoid jail time. When I brought up the idea of the warrant in court the black female judge looked at me like I was crazy.

She said, “We don’t issue warrants like that. First of all we have no proof that he even got the papers. Second, if you want him arrested then you will have to quit your job, go on Welfare and the Department of Social Services will issue a warrant for his arrest.”

I was so shocked at what she said that at first I was rendered speechless. Then I stood up straight in my chair and looked the judge right in the eye, “The whole point of me being here is so I don’t have to quit my job and go on welfare. You’re supposed to encourage people to work not tell them to quit their job. You people suck!” I grabbed my purse and walked out the room knowing there was no way I was ever going to get child support. I was so angry I walked to my job, which was 20 minutes away in the bitter winter cold. I was too upset to work. I went into the ladies room and began to cry. The female Financial Advisor I worked for at the time walked in and saw me crying. She asked me several times what was wrong. When I finally told her she said “F*ck those people!” She gave me tissue to clean my face and walked out. After cleaning my face I went back to my desk and there I found an envelope. The Financial Advisor had written me a check for $1000. I never bothered taking Thomas to court again.

Now here we were several years later. I never received a dime from Thomas. He was currently living in Florida. Once a year, during the summer, he would call to say he was back in New York and could he see the boys the very next day. I’m sure he did it that way so I couldn’t have the police waiting for him, with an arrest warrant. But it never dawned on me to call the police. Although I was struggling I was making it. My pride would not let me ask Thomas for one cent and he never, ever offered.

The problem I was having now was, he didn’t always come when he said he would. Watching Tommy peek out the window waiting for his dad took me back to when my sister, Rita, and I would do the same thing waiting for our dad to come. We would call him begging to let us come over. He’d finally give in and say yes. Sometimes he would come that Saturday and sometimes he wouldn’t. When he did he never came on time.

Here I was seeing my sons do the same exact thing. It was heartbreaking to watch.

Finally we heard the gate leading to the yard open. Tommy and Aiden ran to the window.

“It’s Daddy!” they screamed. They were so happy I couldn’t help but be delighted for them. I pushed out of my head the fact that he was over an hour late.

I went and peaked out the window and saw Thomas looking the same (never ages) and a woman with him. I couldn’t believe it! I screamed in my head, “He brought some chick to MY house!”

By the time the doorbell rang I collected myself. I slowly walked across the living room and opened the front door. When he saw me standing there he looked surprised. That’s right buddy, I said to myself, it’s been a year since you last saw us. I’m feeling confident and looking hot! No longer am I that mousey naïve little girl. Eat your heart out!

He said “hello” and the boys ran into his arms. Thomas started to walk in but without the woman I saw through the window.

So being the mature adult I am, I stuck my head out the door and saw her standing in the yard. “Please,” I said, “come in.” I motioned to the woman to come in.

At first she seemed confused. She looked at Thomas and he motioned her to come in. As she came through the door I no longer saw her as a woman but as a young girl. Not that she was younger than me but she looked as naïve as I did many years ago when I first started dating Thomas.

“Hi I’m Simone, please sit down. Can I get either of you something to drink?”

Softly the young lady said, “No thank you.”

I was totally in my “the lady of the manor” mode. I could not have been nicer. I learned that Thomas and the girlfriend had been living together in Florida for about a year now. Strangely enough it didn’t bother me. I got the boys’ sweatshirts. I reminded them to behave themselves; that I love them, and I will see them that evening.

I walked them all to the door. I told Thomas’ girlfriend that it was very nice meeting her. Thomas was the last one out the door. As I started closing the door he gave me that puppy dog look he use to give me that melted me each and every time. A look that always let him get his way no matter how angry I was with him. But not this time Buster, not this time! I said to myself.

As I closed the door all I could think of was “I’m over him…I’m truly and completely over him!” I was so happy I could skip to work. Being I now had my own car, that wouldn’t be necessary. But I was walking on “Cloud Nine” for the rest of the day.

That night Thomas did not bring the boys home till late. I tried not to be too concerned because I knew they were having a fun time with the other side of their family. But I did worry. My boys were my life and the house seemed so empty without them.

Just after 10:00 the doorbell rang. Thomas was carrying Aiden who had fallen asleep and Thomas’ girlfriend was guiding Tommy who was just about asleep on his feet.

I offered Thomas and his girlfriend a seat, asked if they wanted anything of which they declined. Tommy awake now started telling me all the things they did that day…went to the Bronx Zoo; visited Grandma and Grandpa, etc. As he was talking I realized he did not have his sweatshirt. Thomas giving me the puppy dog look again (with his back to his girlfriend) offered to go out to his truck to get it.

While Thomas fetched the sweatshirt his girlfriend and I talked about the boys and the day they had. She was really nice and I found it very easy to like her. I actually felt sorry for her because I knew what she’d be going through if not already there. She had nothing to do with mine and Thomas’ breakup so there was no reason for animosity between her and me. By then Aiden was awake too. He and Tommy started taunting each other as siblings do. They started getting angry and I had to separate them before things started to escalate.

I apologized to the girlfriend for the boys’ behavior. Then she said “That’s OK I have children of my own.”

I suddenly stopped. Putting on a smile I knew was fake I asked, “Oh and how many do you have?”

     “I have three girls and a boy,” she said proudly.

     “Oh how lovely,” I said while sitting there with a knife in my heart. Four kids. Thomas has been helping this woman raise four kids for over a year and he only calls his kids twice a year and visits them one day a year?!

Just then Thomas walked in. He knew immediately something was wrong. Nervously he said, “So, ah, what’s going on?”

With my plastic smile I answered, “She was just saying how she has three girls and a boy. That must be a handful. It’s lucky she has you to help her.” I could barely stop myself from spitting out the words. Fortunately the girlfriend didn’t know me well enough to know that I was seething but Thomas knew. Oh yes, he knew.

He quickly made an excuse for them to leave. The boys were upset but they were used to it by now. As the girlfriend was leaving I told her how happy I was to have met her. When Thomas went through the door he turned around and gave me that stupid puppy dog look again. I slammed the door in his face.

The next morning after a sleepless night I called my friend Kay. She was an older woman I had met through some friends when the boys were three and four years old. She was a good listener and always gave me good advice. I told her about Thomas’ visit, about the girlfriend, and about how I realized that I was over him and what a great feeling that was. Then I told her about the girlfriend’s four kids and how that made me feel.

     “Are you kidding, Simone? Do you really think he is doing much of anything to take care of those kids? The way I see it, she has five kids not four. He’s as irresponsible now as he’s always been. He isn’t going to change Simone. This is who he is. Believe me, he’s not taking care of her or anyone else’s kids.”

By the time I got off the phone with Kay I felt even sorrier for the girlfriend.

Two days later, about the same time it would have taken Thomas to drive back down to Southern Florida he started calling me. He was telling me how good it was to see me. How great I looked. And that he is thinking of moving back to New York. I told him maybe he should try to make things work out with the girlfriend that she seems like a nice person. He said something about her wanting too much from him.

For two weeks straight he called me every night. One night, I had one of my younger cousins babysit for me so I could go out with some friends from the office. I knew Thomas would call just like he did every night. I told my cousin that if any guy called asking for me that she was to say I was out on a date. I made her practice it four or five times.

Later that night I called my cousin to check on the boys and to see if anyone had called. She said yes that a man called and that she told him exactly what I told her to say.

     “Awesome!” I shouted into the pay phone. “And what did he say?” I asked.

     “He hesitated and then he said ‘tell her I love her.’”

I was stunned. I wanted to get a reaction from him but I had no idea it would be that. At first I had a feeling of satisfaction. That’s right you love me but it’s too late now Buster! But as I hung up the phone there was an overwhelming feeling of sadness. Not for me…not for the boys. We had each other and our extended family, a bond that no one could ever break. But I was sad for Thomas. It seemed that no matter how many women he met and how much they cared for him, he will never be truly happy. He will never know the true meaning of love. And if he’s not careful he will die lonely and alone.

The next night when he called I told him not to call me anymore unless it was to talk to the boys. They didn’t see or hear from him for another year. When they saw him he was with another “new” girlfriend.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Getting off the plane in New Orleans the first thing I noticed was the sticky heat. What was I thinking? Surprising Charles with a trip to New Orleans in early June, it was so hot and humid. I didn’t expect it to be hot and humid so early in the month. Not to mention I am definitely not a heat person. But it was his birthday and I wanted to do something special for him. What was more special then surprising a true jazz lover with a trip to the birthplace of jazz, not to mention the birth place of the Dupree family?

Since it was already evening by the time our plane landed we decided to drop off our bags in our suite at the Ritz Carlton and head on out to Bourbon Street in the French Quarter. The French Quarter is the oldest neighborhood in New Orleans. It was “discovered” in the 1700s.  The French Quarter architecture blends Spanish, French, Creole, and American styles together with design. All the homes are so colorful with their cast iron balconies.

As we walked past the bars and restaurants, the New Orleans jazz and the aroma of the Cajun and Creole foods permeated the air, I could feel Charles’ excitement jumping off of him while holding his hand.  And a seemingly permanent grin remained on his face. As we reached our destination, Charles pulled me into the “The Bayou Café”.

The “Cafe” was a bar/restaurant. It was filled with people of various ages, backgrounds and ethnic groups. Everyone was dressed casual, as were we. The lights were so dim that if you walked in at 10 in the morning you would forget it was daylight outside. The atmosphere was jumping. The live band was jamming up on stage. They were currently playing an upbeat Dr. John tune, “Right Place, Wrong Time.”

With his hand on my lower back Charles steered me to a small table by the stage.  “This is great!” Charles said with a grin from ear to ear.

     “Yea, it really is,” I said returning Charles’ smile.

     “Thank you again Simone. This is the best birthday present ever. I haven’t been here in years. Every time I come it always reminds me when I spent a few summers at Tulane University,” Charles continued excitingly. “I worked so hard Monday through Friday so I could spend every Friday and Saturday night in this place. It always turned into a jamming session. You never knew what was going to happen or who was going to show up. Sometimes someone famous would jump up on stage. Or even someone who one day would be famous. But it didn’t matter…famous or not you knew you were going to hear some great music. I spent a lot of time up on that stage myself. I loved it!”

Because he was so excited I didn’t have the heart to tell him he told me this story a hundred times already. I just kept smiling and nodding my head.

The waitress came over to take our dinner order. “Do you mind if I order for us?”

     “Sure,” I said. Charles knew a lot more about the food in this area then I did.

     “Ok”, he said to the waitress, “We’ll have your spicy seafood and sausage gumbo and a couple of Abita beers.”

An older Caucasian gentleman, looking to be in his mid-70s, with a heavy Louisiana accent walked up to our table. His piercing blue eyes stood out with his slight tan and obviously dyed jet-black hair.  “Well, well look at what we have here,” he said with a smile.

Charles looked up. Instantly recognizing the man, Charles stood and shook his hand with a big grin on his face.

     “Jacques!” Charles exclaimed. Then they gave each other a great big bear hug.

     “Hey Charlie boy,” Jacques said. “Why didn’t you tell us you were coming down?”

     “Actually it was a surprise trip from my lovely lady here.” Charles looked at me, “Honey,” Charles said, “This is Jacques LeClair, the owner of this establishment.”

     “Jacques, this is my lady, Simone,” Charles continued by way of introduction.

     “Hello,” I said raising my hand to shake Jacques’.

     “Simone,” Jacques said raising my hand to his lips. “What a lovely name for a lovely lady. It’s very nice to meet you,” Jacques said with a wink.

Instantly recognizing him as a harmless flirt I wasn’t surprised when an older plump woman walked up behind Jacques. “Ok, that’s enough of that. Please forgive my husband’s rudeness,” she laughed looking at me. “Charlie! So happy to see you!” She continued and gave Charles a kiss on the cheek.

Charles gave the woman a kiss on the cheek as well.

     “You look beautiful as usual,” Charles said with a smile.

     “Oh stop!” she waved him off. “You’re starting to sound like this old coot!” she said pointing at Jacques. Turning her attention to me, “Hi honey, I’m Josephine LeClair welcome to The Bayou Cafe.”

     “Thank you,” I said shaking her hand and smiling. “It’s nice to meet.”

     “It’s been too long Charlie,” she said to him warmly.

     “Yes, I know. But I’ve been busy with work.”

     “You’re never too busy to enjoy something that stirs your soul,” Josephine said.

     “Will you be joining us on stage tonight,” Jacques asked.

     “No, no, I didn’t bring my trumpet this weekend,” Charles said begrudgingly.

     “Ahh…well you never know,” Jacques answered. Josephine gave him a stern look.

Just then the waitress came with our food. As she sat the plates and bowls down Jacques said to the waitress, “Give them whatever they want. It’s on the house.”

     “No, we can’t do that,” Charles said.

     “Of course you can. It’s you’re birthday!” Jacques answered. Josephine hit him in his side with her elbow.

     “How do you remember that?” Charles asked a bit confused.

I took a sip of my beer.

Jacques stuttered. “Ah….we remember things like that. I don’t know the exact date but I know it’s early June. I just assumed that’s why Simone surprised you with this trip.”

     “Yes it is,” I said to all of them.

Before Charles could ask any more questions Josephine said, “Come on you old coot. Let’s get some work done.” Josephine all but dragged Jacques away by his ear.

     “That was weird,” Charles said shaking his head. “I can’t believe he remembered my birthday.”

I shrugged my shoulders. “This is really good,” I said taking a big bite of my gumbo forgetting how hot and spicy it would be. With my mouth on fire I started to choke while my eyes watered.

     “Are you alright?” Charles asked concerned.

I shook my head yes but still kept on coughing. As I reached for a glass of water Charles took it away and gave me a piece of the bread on the table.

     “No eat this,” he ordered. “The water will just make it worse.”

Eating the bread seemed to put the fire out a bit. As I was finally able to catch my breath I was filled with embarrassment. I know my face was red. Stupid Yankee, I said to myself. I looked around but no one was looking at me. They were all either engrossed with their own meal or the band.

     “Are you OK?” Charles asked taking my hands.

     “Yes,” I said nodding my head.

     “You have to be careful,” he said. “You’re not use to this type of food.”

     “You’re telling me,” I laughed.

Once I got my head and taste buds ready for the hot and spicy gumbo I was able to enjoy the meal.

     “So,” I said, “you know Jacques through the club?”

     “Ah, through the club and my grandmother.”

     “Your grandmother?” I asked.

      “Yes,” he answered. “Jacques is a distant cousin to my Grandmother Jacqueline.” Charles continued, “Her maiden name was LeClair. Her grandfather had disowned her father when he fell in love with a freed slave,” Charles said nonchalantly.

I remembered then Grandmother Jacqueline’s portrait and the fact that she was Mullato. It couldn’t have been easy for her. Especially back then.

     “Oh I see.”

     “Jacques’ dad originally owned this cafe. And then Jacques inherited it. He and Josephine together, made it what it is today,” he finished.

The piano player started playing “Gone So Long.” With him tickling the ivories, and the drummer and base player doing their thing, it was hard to sit in your seat.

     “Let’s dance!” Charles said grabbing my hand.

We danced and danced from one song to another. I had so much fun. Finally being a little winded we decided to sit back down at our table. The band leader announced that this was their last song of the night and that after them would be another band.

After a while the second band warmed up and began to play. It consisted of a piano player, a drummer, and a guy on the trumpet. I watched Charles as he watched the trumpet player play. He watched so intensely. I could see he was itching to get up on that stage.

After two or three songs I looked around and found Jacques and Josephine sitting at the bar across the room. Jacques turned and looked at me and we nodded at each other. He said something to Josephine. She turned to me and nodded. Jacques got up and walked toward the stage holding a black case. The stage hand walked over to Jacques and took the case as Jacques whispered to him. The stage hand put the case down on the stage out of the spot light. He nodded to the piano player.

After the song was over the piano player began to speak. Charles was holding my hand with one hand and drinking his drink with the other. “Excuse me” the piano player began, “If I can have your attention please.” He said to the audience. “We are very lucky to have a special guest in our audience today. Some of you may remember him from his younger days when he used to visit the area as a kid. His lovely lady had someone contact us to let us know he’d be here tonight celebrating his birthday weekend. And through a covert operation,” he laughed, “they were able to deliver his trumpet to us today. So there are no excuses, man,” he said looking at Charles. “Let’s give a New Orleans welcome to Mr. Charles Dupree. Come on up here Charles!”

Charles looked up at me immediately. “What did you do?” he said as if shocked.

     “I had Caroline send your trumpet to the hotel and they had it delivered to the club,” I smiled.

The people in the club began to clap. “Happy Birthday baby,” I smiled.

Charles leaned over the table and kissed me. As he got up and walked to the stage he looked over and saw Jacques and Josephine standing at the bar. Josephine’s eyes glistened. Jacques had his arm around her. They both smiled at Charles. Jacques kissed Josephine on her forehead and pulled her into a hug.

As Charles got up on the stage and the clapping died down I felt like my heart was beating out of my chest. I was both excited and nervous for Charles. It had been a long time since he played in front of other people. Was he a bit rusty? When it was all over would he be pleased with my surprise or pissed off?

The piano player played a little tune as Charles pulled the trumpet out of the case and quickly put it together. He examined the trumpet. Please God don’t let there be any damage during shipping. Please! I thought to myself. Seeming satisfied with what he saw, he put the trumpet to his mouth. Whew!

He played a few notes as if to warm up. Then he nodded to the piano player to let him know he was ready. He looked down at me and winked.

The piano player began to play another song. After a few notes the drummer joined in and then so did Charles.

As I watched and listened to Charles play “It Never Entered My Mind” something changed. I felt as if Charles was transported to another place and time.  I closed my eyes. I swear it sounded like Miles Davis was on that stage. When I opened my eyes I looked at Charles. He seemed so intense and relaxed at the same time. I’d never seen him like this before. The love for the music was evident on his face. And in his face I saw his Grandmother Jacqueline and the love she had for dance. Now, I understood when Charles said, “he could never imagine not being able to do something you loved so much”. He wasn’t just talking about his grandmother’s dancing but also his playing the trumpet. I could see it now. It was a part of him. Without it something inside him would die.

As Charles started to play “The Good Life” I felt like it was only he and I in the room. It seemed like the notes from the trumpet were fingers circling the room that eventually found its way to me. They seemed to pull me closer to Charles. But instead of cold fingers they were warm and comforting.

In the middle of him playing “When I Fall in Love,” I began to cry. It was as if he was playing the song for me.  The warmth of his love seemed to reach me from the stage. Like a security blanket, it gave me a sense of comfort; a sense of protection I never felt before.  By the time the song was over, I had fallen more in love with Charles than ever before. A love I never felt before. A love I could not describe. A love that engulfed every part of my being, a love I would have run away from several months ago. Instead, now I wanted to run to it. It was at that moment and time I knew. I knew I was ready to spend the rest of my life with Charles, to be his wife now and forever.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The next day, Saturday, was Charles’ birthday. Since Charles was so anxious to show me the city he loved, we decided to get out early and have breakfast at Café du Monde in the French Quarter. Famous for its beignets, a sweet French square donut, Charles insisted we had to go there for beignets and café au lait. It was the first time I had beignets and I was now addicted. I wondered if I could sneak any on the plane when we go home Sunday night.  I better not. Having them for breakfast every morning will cost another ½ hour, at least, of working out every day. And since I didn’t want to be there anyway there was no need of spending more time in the gym than was already necessary.