Unresolved Issues (12 page)

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Authors: Wanda B. Campbell

BOOK: Unresolved Issues
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Chapter 20
While parked across the street from Miss Cora's house, Staci replenished her lipstick one last time, using the visor mirror. She then fingered her curls once more. Her hand shook upon contact with the door latch. “Why am I nervous?” she asked herself. “He's just a man.” But he wasn't just any man; he was her husband.
She hadn't seen Derrick since that day in his office three months ago. She'd known he would be here. Under no circumstances would Derrick miss his mother's birthday. The family was certain this was Miss Cora's last one. Staci believed that too. Every day Miss Cora grew weaker, and lately, her appetite had declined. As much as she hated to admit it, Staci worried about how Derrick would handle it. How does one really prepare to lose their only parent? Derrick didn't have many real friends. The ones he had he'd isolated himself from. Like his boys. According to Marcus and Brian, he hadn't spoken to them since the separation.
During their daily phone conversation, Malcolm warned Staci against attending Miss Cora's birthday party.
“Staci, this man left you,” he'd said. “Don't allow him to use his mother's illness to keep you dangling around. He hasn't spoken to you in months. Don't allow him to parade you like a trophy in front of his family.”
Staci wasn't worried about that. What she was looking for was some sign from Derrick that he still wanted to be married to her; that he still cared.
The first thing she noticed after stepping from her Mercedes was Derrick's SUV in the driveway. Her heart palpated, and her palms sweat. “You can handle this,” she told herself.
Before retrieving the flowers from the backseat, she straightened her clothes one last time. Instead of ringing the bell, Staci used her key.
“If the two of you don't stop arguing, I'm going to hit you with my cane!” Miss Cora declared.
“Mama, tell him to leave me alone,” Keisha begged.
“Tell her that dress shows too much cleavage,” Derrick pleaded with his mother.
“I'm a grown woman. I can wear what I want!”
“Not as long as I'm your brother.”
“Some things never change.” Staci's voice startled everyone, especially Derrick. The words he had for his sister were quickly forgotten once his eyes beheld Staci.
Staci diverted her eyes away from him. “Happy Birthday, Miss Cora. How are you feeling today?” She hugged and kissed her mother-in-law.
“Thank you, baby. I was doing fine until Bonnie and Clyde showed up.”
Staci laughed, then embraced Keisha. “I love that outfit. Girl, you are wearing that dress.”
“Thank you. At least someone in the family, besides me, has taste.” Keisha stuck her tongue out at her brother, but Derrick didn't notice. His eyes were glued on his wife. Her presence brought out a longing in him that nearly brought him to his knees. Keisha stepped back to allow room for Derrick and Staci to greet each other.
“Hi, Derrick.” Staci's greeting was curt and impersonal. Without waiting for a reply, she turned to Miss Cora and said, “I'm going to put these flowers in a vase for you,” then turned to leave.
“Derrick, aren't you going to speak to your wife?” Keisha questioned.
Once again, Staci didn't allow him to answer. Upon stopping in the doorway, she turned and said, “Your brother and I are no longer together.”
Miss Cora shook her head, and Keisha's mouth hung open.
“Sister-in-law, what are you talking about?”
“Derrick and I are separated.” Staci pasted the smile back on her face and left the room.
“What did you do?” Keisha asked at the same time punching Derrick's arm.
“What makes you think I did something?”
Keisha didn't say a word, just folded her arms and twisted her face.
“Whatever.” Derrick waved her off. “You still need to change that dress.”
Derrick watched Staci from the doorway as she cut flowers over the sink. No woman could wear a pair of jeans like his wife. His missed her so much, he wanted to wrap his arms around her and never let her go. Right before she stooped to pull the step stool from the utility closet, he walked up behind her and retrieved the vase for her.
“Thank you,” she said, without making eye contact. She went on cutting the stems as if he wasn't there.
She smelled so good; like a ripe Georgia peach thanks to her favorite body cream. He wanted to hold her, kiss her, and . . .
“How have you been?” he asked.
“Fine.”
Her short answers were tearing him apart. His eyes roamed her body and focused on the exposed part of her neck. He smiled slightly, remembering the first time he tasted its nectar. The smile disappeared when his eyes traveled to her left hand.
“Staci, why aren't you wearing your wedding ring?”
This time she made eye contact, and he wished she hadn't. “Why should I wear a wedding ring when I don't have a husband?” She shrugged, then continued with her task.
Derrick would have preferred for her to have stabbed him with the scissors than make that statement.
“Staci, don't say that.”
“It's the truth. You have never been a husband to me.” She smirked, “At best, you were a bad roommate.”
“How can you say that?”
Staci ignored the hurt she heard in his voice. “Derrick, I didn't come here to discuss your inability to be a man. I'm only here to celebrate your mother's birthday.” Her voice dripped with sugar. “If you would like to discuss anything else, call me on Wednesday. That's the day I deal with foolishness.”
He watched her leave the room and wondered, who was that woman? That was not his Staci. She sounded like her, even walked like her, but that person wasn't his wife. This woman was angry and bitter. “What happened to my wife?” he asked the question audibly.
All day he watched Staci interact with everyone but him. Whenever he started in her direction, she went the other way. She held conversations with his uncles, aunts, even the neighbors, but said nothing to him. She danced with his uncles, but wouldn't even shake Derrick's hand. Everyone noticed the distance between them. Nearly all of his relatives questioned him about why they weren't together anymore.
“Dental school suctioned all of your common sense. How could you leave that woman?” his uncle Jimmy asked. Like always, Derrick didn't have an answer.
When the time came for Miss Cora to cut her birthday cake, Staci helped her position herself at the table. Miss Cora was so weak; Keisha had to help her hold the knife.
Derrick accepted for certain that his mother wouldn't be around much longer. He and Staci locked eyes, and her eyes misted when she saw the sullen expression on his face. She looked as if she wanted to reach out to him and would have if Miss Cora hadn't touched her hand. Miss Cora turned and beckoned for Derrick to come stand next to Staci, but his emotions overwhelmed him and he left the room. Staci excused herself and practically ran into the bathroom.
Outside on the porch, Derrick couldn't contain himself. It was more than seeing his mother so frail. For the first time, he realized his need for space had cost him his wife—permanently. He'd known his mother was dying, but he didn't know the love Staci had for him had already died. Every look she afforded him was one of anger and contempt. How could nearly eight years be gone so quickly?
“
You rejected her.”
As hard as he tried, Derrick couldn't ignore the soft still voice any longer. “That's not what I meant to do,” he replied audibly.
“You haven't talked to her; you've completely shut her out of your life. Now she's shutting you out of hers.”
“I'm not shutting her out. I just need some time to figure things out.”
“You've had three months, and nothing has changed. You're not talking to me, and you're not talking to her. You're still sitting around feeling sorry for yourself. You haven't been honest with yourself, and you haven't been honest with me.”
The voice grew more forceful.
“You've rejected me, telling me I didn't know what I was doing when I created you. You've insulted me by looking for approval and validation from men instead of allowing my love for you to become your validation.”
Derrick couldn't stand the tongue-lashing anymore. He jumped into his SUV and sped off.
 
 
Inside the bathroom, Staci turned on the faucet to hide the sound of her sobs. Seeing Derrick today was harder than she'd thought. The entire day had been like a roller-coaster ride with all the twists, turns, and dips she felt inside of her. When she first saw him, she wanted to run to him, to touch him. But he didn't move, so she put up a guarded front. Even in the kitchen she waited for him so say something, anything that would let her know that he still cared, but he didn't. All he cared about was her wedding ring. She thought back to what Malcolm had said earlier about not allowing Derrick to use her as a trophy in front of his family. Witnessing him walk away from her once again was the breaking point.
“God, please show me how to stop loving him. I don't want to love him anymore.” She said the prayer, but knew chances were God wasn't listening to her since she hadn't prayed or read her Bible much since meeting Malcolm.
She dried her face and unclipped her cell to phone Malcolm. Without saying a word, he listened to her tell him about Derrick's behavior and how now she was ready to divorce him.
“What are you doing tonight?” Malcolm asked.
“Go home!”
Staci blocked out the voice. “Nothing. What do you want to do?”
“Why don't you stop by here? I'll make you dinner.”
She'd never been to his loft, but he'd bragged constantly about what a great cook he was. “I'm not hungry. I just want to enjoy a quiet evening alone.”
“We can have that here. I have an extensive collection of DVDs and digital cable.”
Staci placed a hand over her ear in an effort to quiet her conscience. “I'll be there in forty-five minutes.” She committed the loft address to memory. “Shall I bring anything?” she asked, before hanging up.
“Just yourself,” he answered sheepishly. “And an open mind.”
Before leaving, Staci sat with Miss Cora for a few minutes. For some reason, she felt this might be her last time seeing her alive.
“I hope you had a good birthday, Miss Cora.”
Miss Cora sighed. “Every day I wake up is a good day, but I was hoping this day would have been better. I don't know why my son left like that.”
Staci hunched her shoulders, but didn't say anything. She didn't know what to say.
“I wish I could be around for your twentieth wedding anniversary. I might ask the good Lord to send me back, just so I can say, ‘I told you so.'”
Staci didn't have the heart to tell her mother-in-law that she and Derrick weren't going to have a second anniversary, let alone a twentieth.
“Miss Cora, if we make it to twenty, I'll ask the Lord to send you back.” Staci laughed, but Miss Cora remained serious.
“I'm not going to physically see it then, but I can
see
it now.”
Staci secretly wished she could see half as well as Miss Cora, but right now, her vision was clouded with anger and blurred by hurt.
Staci hugged her again. “I love you, Miss Cora.”
“Staci,” Miss Cora called before she opened the door to leave, “don't forget what I told you about making him beg.”
Chapter 21
Derrick had barely made it inside the studio apartment above the dental office before he fell to his knees. He didn't even turn the lights on. How he made it home, he didn't know. He did remember nearly hitting at least two pedestrians as he drove like a maniac down International Boulevard. He couldn't get rid of the still voice that kept asking him questions he couldn't answer.
“Why are you running from me? We used to have sweet fellowship. What happened?”
Heavy tears rolled down Derrick's cheeks and met at his chin. He accepted the fact that he couldn't fix things on his own. He needed God back in his life. Beyond his need for Staci, he needed God.
“Why do you refuse to accept yourself for the awesome individual I made you? Why don't you love me enough to let me be your father? I made you. Why can't you trust that I know what's best for you?”
“Because I don't like who I am. I don't like myself. I don't like not having a father.” Derrick finally answered the voice honestly, between sobs that shook his body.
“I know the thoughts I have toward you, Derrick. Thoughts of peace and not evil, to give you an expected end. I gave you everything you needed to be a secure man, but you gave it back to me and went after man's approval.”
Derrick's face fell to the floor and before he knew it, he was lying prostrate with his arms stretched out.
“Derrick, my son, you are fearfully and wonderfully made. Before I formed you in your mother's womb, I knew you. I didn't make a mistake in selecting your parents, and I didn't make a mistake in creating you. I am God! I don't make mistakes.”
As he lay there, Derrick felt God's love covering him with the warmth of an electric blanket, something he hadn't allowed himself to feel in a very long time.
“Come back to me, my son. Come back.”

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