Wearing My Halo Tilted (5 page)

“I'm serious,” he said, as he took the three pairs from my hand. “You don't need to do that play. I know I give you a hard time about not working and all. I'm sorry, because you do have a job. You got those girls and this is summertime, you know. Write another book from home. No matter what happens to my job, we'll be alright.”

Unwavering, I looked over at him, and said, “I don't know if we're gonna be alright and I'm really kind of tired of just settling. I'm gonna go on the tour.”

“No, you're not!” he said in the harsh tone I hated, just knowing that I was gonna take his fussing.

Whatever,
I thought, as I looked at him with empathy. I was so fed up with the Negro before me that I could have cut him. Maybe I just had to show him with my actions. He wasn't hearing my words. Yup. Someway, somehow, I was going to have to show him.

 

 

“Hey, Shari,” Tina said to me through the receiver, after I dialed her number early-Saturday morning. “Tell me the good news, lady. You're going on tour, right?”

I actually had no idea what I was going to do. I just told her that I would call since she told me I had to. I certainly couldn't let her down, but now she was putting the pressure on. She needed me to go on this trip and it wasn't just for her benefit. I had benefits too. But my husband said no and in no uncertain terms meant no. What in the heck was I going to do?

When I delayed in responding, she said, “I've been praying for you. And I can't really say God has told me to tell you this or that, but I just feel led to say you need to finally make a commitment to you. If going on tour for the whole summer is too much to commit to, then we can try two weeks at a time. Neither party should care. I mean, the publishing company will still benefit from the books that you sell and they won't have to pay expenses if you're not traveling. And Trey, the play guy, he's gonna benefit from whatever books are sold, whenever they are. So that's money you didn't have. So why not take a few baby steps before you walk totally? Tr y it. Say yes. I've seen you in action. You can't be scared of the public.”

“No, no, no,” I said, cutting in and defending myself. “The public is my best mode of selling.”

“Then what's the hold up? I know you've got your man in check just like I've got mine,” Tina responded, sternly. Everyone knew she wore the pants in her nine year marriage. She had helped her husband build up his bookstore empire. I think at last count they had nine stores in the midwestern and eastern region. Their goal was to add one every year. Their bookstores were doing exceptionally well, because with other black-owned chains struggling, and in some cases shutting down, they were expanding. She was a marketing genius. If she said I needed to be on this tour, I needed to take heed and be there.

The words, “Yeah, I'm going,” just sort of slipped out. “Two weeks is good for me to commit to in the beginning. Thanks, Tina.”

“Okay, girl. Well, I gotta go. Stanley and I are headed over to his store. I'll talk to you Monday morning and give you the details. But you need to plan to fly out on Wednesday.”

The next thing I knew, I was sitting there in my office going ballistic. Everything was pushed up. I thought I'd have more time. I was trying to figure out what in the heck I was gonna do with my kids. Not to mention, I needed a way to get Dillon to believe this was his idea, so that he wouldn't be pissed I went against his wishes in the first place.

“Hey, there!” my dad said in a zany voice from my garage door as it opened.

“Y'all better start locking these doors,” my mom said in a thwarted motherly tone.

“Where's Dillon? I don't see his car,” my dad said, talking normal as I heard him walk toward the front of the house, where my office was located.

“I don't know,” I said in a smug tone, not wanting to go there with my nosy folks.

“Uh-oh. He might be under the doghouse.” My dad laughed as he entered my office.

I couldn't believe my dad was a superintendent. Let my grandparents tell it, he barely got out of school himself. He was such a big jokester. I didn't need him being sarcastic. However, I couldn't push the wrong buttons with my folks and I needed them to buy into what I was about to do.

So I hugged my daddy, and said, “What's going on?”

“Hey there, cuz. What's up with you two?” my dad asked, as he planted a kiss on my cheek.

I released him from the secure embrace and lied. “Things are cool, Dad.”

The glare he gave me told me he didn't buy what I was saying. My mom knew Dillon and I had issues. She always shared all my business with my dad. So I knew she'd tell him whatever she thought she knew. And that always irked me.

He wasn't in any position to give me advice. He cheated on my mom when I was in high school and college. Though they got things back on track, he knew I was like him. If my daddy could fall into temptation, it was probably in my blood to do the same.

I could never cheat on Dillon. It would be over. And as much drama as I had to go through with one husband. Another man probably wouldn't make it any better.

I had to make my mom buy into keeping my babies. She really was my only option. I'd never leave my girls with anyone else. I had to appeal to her feminist side. She was the biggest advocate I had for me pursuing my writing career. I would say I felt like I didn't have to work a couple of years ago, but my mom told me I needed to do more with my life. And she was my biggest cheerleader since my book came out. Even though it should be easy for her to say she'd keep the girls while I was gone, my mom was still a young grandma. She was just over fifty. Her life was planned out.

Smiling at her, I thought,
Lord, please soften her heart. I really need my mom's help on this one.

“I see you, Shari. What's going on? What do you want?” she called me out, as I headed over to her smiling pitifully.

I really needed her help a lot of the time. In fact, now was no different. But never had I asked her to keep my kids for two weeks straight. She'd only agree for one week for the summer. But never had I had an opportunity like the one before me that could soar my career through the roof.

“I know something is up. You might as well go on and ask, what is it. What's going on?”

“She didn't get you a birthday present yet. You better tell her what you need,” my dad said, as my mom cut a sharp eye over at him. “You know you gotta help your only daughter out, cuz!”

I had no extra time to figure this out, so I told them all about what was going on. After a long pause, my mom surprised me and said, “I can shuffle some days around and keep the girls. You need to go on this tour. It sounds like the play is going to be impressive. Go. The girls will be fine.”

Full of excitement, I squeezed her so tight, and then thinking of a possible problem, I said, “I leave in a couple of days though.”

“Well, how long have you known about this? I know you're not telling us at the last minute,” she responded brashly, sounding like the mom I knew.

“Just got the word,” I assured her.

“And big head?” my dad said, talking about my husband. “Is he okay with this? Or does he want you to stay cooped up in the house?”

I just kind of giggled. Why was my dad right on? Maybe he could help me convince Dillon I needed to do this.

“Yeah, I know him,” he said without me even affirming his thoughts. “He wants you to get a job, but he don't want you to do nothing. You need me to talk to him?”

“I was just thinking that, but no, Dad. I don't want to rock the boat more, it's already tilting.”

“Seriously. Everything alright, Shari?” my dad asked in a way that made me love him more.

He was so concerned about his little girl, and I appreciated that. It kinda gave me confirmation that this was the right thing. My parents weren't all freaked about me leaving my kids behind. I needed to do some things for me, so that I could be a better mom to them and possibly be a better wife to Dillon. I had something happening in my own life. I honestly wasn't close enough to God to see what He was telling me, but somehow going felt right.

“He can come over and see the girls. He'll be fine,” my mom said to comfort me when she saw I looked like a girl afraid this may cause me to lose my marriage.

“You go ahead and do what you gotta do. Tell 'em. He'll be okay,” my dad assured. “But if there is a problem you call me.”

I just smiled and then hugged my dad tighter than my three-year-old hugs her baby doll. My parents were really precious to me. I sometimes really hated that my husband's parents' situation wasn't the same as mine. That's maybe why he didn't understand how a husband and wife were supposed to function together. His dad was never around. He left when he was three, and his mom, I wouldn't even get into thinking about her right now. It was a whole separate issue all together. If she wasn't calling our house asking for money, she wasn't calling the house at all.

“You got that paint ready?” my dad said, as he headed upstairs to my oldest daughter's room.

Stori wasn't a baby anymore so we were painting her palace a bold Disney princess pink color. When I pointed to the paint in the corner of her room, it was off to the races. Like Stori's room getting a makeover, I hoped the play would revive me as well.

Finally finding a place for my girls to stay, now all I had to think about was how in the world I was going to tell my husband what I was going to do. He would be okay with it. He had to be. If not, our marriage was going to be stretched, strained, and pulled apart as far as the stars go, from one end of the sky to the other, making the Big Dipper.

H
ow in the world am I gonna tell him?
I thought to myself the morning I was supposed to take a five o'clock flight to Atlanta for the start of the play. Dillon had just gotten back from a last minute two day speaking engagement in Raleigh, North Carolina. With him gone for a bit, I had time to pack up my things, as well as get all the girls stuff over to my mom's place without interference.

My husband and I had talked a number of times while he was out of town, but nothing about my plans came up. Actually, nothing about me came up. He only asked about Stori and Starr when he called. Occasionally, I felt guilty about not telling him, but I dismissed that thought. I didn't want to stir up trouble with him away. I had to clean up so that I could figure out what I needed to pack.

Before he left to go to Raleigh, I was going to address the issue. But it just didn't seem like the time. He was rushing to leave because his head coach asked him to fill in as the evening speaker at a Fellowship of Christian Athletes boy's camp he could not do. It actually was good he was gone. Now I'd only have a quick minute to hear his displeasure. If there was major drama, the needed distance would already be in place. However, I just wasn't feeling the vibe to get into it.

Finally, I came up with a plan to soften the blow. The girls were already at my mom's and I knew the first place he'd go, when he came in, was to their room. When he didn't find them there at eight in the morning, an hour before they were to be at day care, I knew he'd come charging into our room asking tons of questions.

“Where are the girls?” Dillon said in the testy voice I expected, before stumping his toe on one of my black Coach luggage pieces that I adored and had rarely used. “Ow, why is your luggage in the middle of the floor packed and ready to go?”

I was in our little sitting room connected to our bedroom, sipping on a cup of hot green tea, as if I was waiting on him at that exact moment. The look on his face told me that he wasn't happy and I didn't know which question I should answer first. So I kept still for a minute, staying calm. He was losing patience with my not responding as his eyebrows arched. He clutched his foot then gave me a look, like nothing in the world you can say could explain all this. So I got a little nervous. However, I had already been putting this moment off, but there were no more stall tactics that could be used.

I put down the cup, leaned forward, and gently said, “The girls are fine.” I smiled trying to ease his mind. “They're at my mom's.”

“They're in Greenville, why? You didn't tell me they were going. You're going up there too? Is that why your stuff is right here?”

I shook my head and looked away. All of a sudden the pain had gone out of Dillon's foot as he stood strong and tall and came over to me. He knelt down and we were now eye level. He reached his hand out for mine. As I held his, it actually started to scare me that his gesture showed sweet concern.

He said, “Shari, you got a whole bunch of bags out there. It's like you packed up everything you own. You're not leaving me, are you?”

Never in the world did I ever think he'd believe that was a possibility. But I was actually happy that something in his dominant brain had allowed him to see that he wasn't the only thing in this world for me. Yes, he was the sole breadwinner and I probably would be struggling like crazy if I left him, but that didn't mean that I couldn't and wouldn't make it on my own.

Taking my hand out of his and cupping his face, I said, “Nothing could be further from the truth. I'm not leaving you, Dillon. I'm just doing a little something for me, that's all.” His face squirmed, not at all getting what I was talking about. “I'm going to Atlanta today.”

“For what?” he said, bitterly letting some of the niceness subside a bit.

This was where the rubber was about to meet the road. I decided to choose another path other than the one he told me I'd had to take. Surely that wasn't going to sit well with him. I knew it, and now it was time for me to take whatever the consequences were going to be. But I wished, hoped, and prayed that it wasn't going to be that bad. In my mind I believed, when I explained to him my rationale, that he'd really be proud of me. After all, my plan didn't involve him altering his schedule in any way. It was time for me to follow my dreams.

Standing to my feet and smiling down at him, I said, “I'm going on the road with the play.”

As he stood to his feet, he towered over me like the giant did over Jack in the story
Jack and the Beanstalk.
And like that mean character, his eyes were fiery and his hands were on his hips. He was
not
digging the answer I gave him. So he quickly let me know that was that.

“I already told you you're not going on that play tour. You've got responsibilities here. What about the gi—”

Before he could even say the word “girls,” I said, “That's why they're gone. They're at my mom's. She's gonna keep them.”

“You're moms goin' to keep them for two weeks? She barely wants to keep them for the weekend. How'd you pull that off?”

“You know she's supportive of my career, Dillon. You know she's behind me. She thinks I need to do more things for myself.”

“You probably pushed those girls on her. It's not goin' to work.”

“No, I didn't, and if you wanna call her yourself, you can. My dad's in support of this too. I'm going.” I walked out of the sitting room and headed over to pick up my first bag to take it downstairs and put it by the front door.

I already knew Dillon would be acting silly, so my little brother was prepared to come and pick me up and take me to the airport. He wasn't going to stop me. This was my moment.

“What is this?” Dillon said in a disappointed tone.

I turned around and faced him. “Nothing.”

“Why are you doing this, Shari? I told you I didn't want you to go. I don't even know where you're going anyway. I don't know who you're going to be with. Uh-uh. You're a married woman, not some groupie who can follow a tour.”

“Groupie! What are you talking about?” I said, completely offended.

“Yeah, that gospel singer, Bryce Maddox, you always joked is the one you'd leave me for if you could. He's starring in the play. I'm supposed to be okay with letting you be on the road with him?”

I actually hadn't even thought of who was going to be in the thing. But Bryce Maddox, yeah! His smooth sounds and fine self would certainly pull in the crowd. Dillon had to have gotten that off the radio.
Bryce Maddox. Very cool,
I thought.

Knowing his thoughts were ridiculous, I said, “First of all, you also said you'd leave me for Vanessa Williams. We just mess with each other on that stuff. Plus, he's married anyway. What are you talking about? You sound so stupid. Don't you trust me?”

“Don't you trust me to lead our family in the best way I think we should? I told you you're not going and yet you made all these plans to go. You're defying me.”

“Well, I was trying to do something for us.”

“I'm going to get my kids. You are going to be here and take care of them. And your parents have no right interfering in our lives.”

“Fine then, Dillon. Go get them,” I said, feeling the tears start to well up in my body. “We can keep them here and be all dysfunctional when you gotta go to work. Or you can let them stay with my mom for two weeks while I try this thing out and see how it goes. And I might stay longer, Dillon. But either way I'm going. I'm at least going to try this, because I have an opportunity to advance my career. I love you,” I told him. “And I'll provide the complete itinerary of everywhere I'll be. I gotta do this, Dillon. I got to.”

“Do it and it shows me that you don't love me and you don't love this family. Shari, if you leave you might not have a place to come back to. You better think about that.” Dillon picked up his keys, rushed down the stairs, and the next thing I knew I heard the garage door go down, quickly letting me know he had left.

I dropped to the floor beside my many bags. Balling my knees up to my chest, I rocked myself back and forth as the tears finally dropped.

Okay,
I thought.
He's made himself clear. If I leave we're over.
I hoped that Dillon was just talking noise and his anger was allowing him to say tons of stuff he didn't really mean. But if he was being serious I had to be ready to deal with his ultimatum. Did going on this tour mean that much to me? Was it more important than keeping harmony in my marriage? I wiped my eyes with the back of my hand. I realized that we were out of sync long before I decided that I needed to do this. If I wanted the vibrant Shari to come back to life, I had to take action.

Already I was needing the Lord to mend this before I had even left. Though I wasn't completely sure the Lord wanted me to go, I didn't feel that torn up about my decision. So I wasn't gonna change my mind now. My mom had said yes, my ticket was waiting for me at the airport, and my stuff was ready. I was going on that tour, and if I didn't have a marriage when I got back, I'd deal with that then, because I had to do this now.

 

 

Hours later I was flying off to tourland. My eyes focused hard on the Bloody Mary that was beside me. Watching the passenger seated next to me, that I didn't know, enjoy his drink made me question if I too needed to unwind. I practically walked out on my marriage. I made a decision that I knew my husband didn't approve of. Only the Lord knew what would happen next, and though my life was in His hands, I might've just made a huge mistake.

“You're a pretty lady. Why are you looking so sad?” the blond, handsome gentleman, appearing to be in his forties said in a flirty way.

I knew he was slightly intoxicated. I could smell his breath. This was his second drink, but it made me chuckle nonetheless. I just wished my husband had some of that flirtatious sense in him. Not saying I wanted him to go and say something sweet to another woman, but just to appreciate the beauty in his own lady. I wished that it somehow would trickle down to him to be interested in me instead of always wanting to hold me back in my place. What place was that? One I surely didn't feel comfortable with. I looked down at my three-karat marque stone snugly fit on my finger and stared back at the man.

“Oh. Wedding problems,” he guessed. Puckering my lips and then letting the corners of it roll up into a soft smile affirmed his statement. Looking back down on my hand and playing with the gorgeous ring, which was one of the last few gifts I got from my husband being a four-year linebacker in the big leagues of football, I wondered why in the world I forgot to bring my band.

When my book was first released last year, I was mugged. Someone stole my ring. While I was signing a book for a man, he attempted to take my ring and I screamed. When the crowd gathered, the guy ran away.

The next day when I got home Dillon bought me a platinum band. He and I agreed I'd only wear my ring when I was in a safe environment. More and more I found myself wearing the band because it was less flashy. It didn't draw too much attention to the fact that I was hitched.

As the plane accelerated off the ground I leaned back thinking about the nosedive my marriage had taken. Happiness was not just automatic. Somewhere deep down my feelings for my husband had started to fade away. I'd never gone against his wishes before. But this was a new day and I only hoped tomorrow would be brighter.

I knew I had thoughts of not claiming him, but I should've brought the band,
I told myself.

“Well, I've been married for nine years,” the gentleman said in a fun-filled voice, giving unsolicited advice. “It's never been easy, but just like anything else in this world, that you want really bad and if it's worth having, you gotta work for it. You both must work at it to get it. Work to keep it. Just believe and somehow it'll work out.”

I laughed. I don't know if it was the spirits or if it was just the truth that I needed to hear. But how was I going to work on my marriage when I was miles apart? When we touched down in Georgia, I thought maybe that was the start of it. I mentally needed to work through our problems. Maybe time apart from Dillon and the girls and my somewhat boring life would give me time to do just that.

I was picked up in grand fashion. There was a limo waiting for me as soon as I went to the curb. Tina told me to get ready for first-class treatment.

However, I guess I wasn't ready and neither was the limo driver. He looked at me with tenseness, like he didn't know the person he was carrying was black. Not that it should matter to him, because my money was just as cucumber colored as anyone else's, but when he didn't open my door or offer me anything to drink—water, soda, something—I realized he had a problem. I sat back taking up only a fraction of the big cushy space. Then I thought, was this a sign of the way my life was gonna be from now on? Full of luxury, but unable to really enjoy it. My cell phone startled me. I quickly picked it up, not noticing the number was that of my husband.

“Shari,” he shouted testily in the phone. “I got your little note saying you were gone. There's nothing you can say, Shari. You made your choice and though I don't understand it, don't expect to come back here.”

Before I could respond the receiver went dead. I didn't have to wonder if that was a sign or not. That was an answer. My marriage was over. I was glad that the limo driver wasn't paying any attention to me. Now, I was a complete basket case. I took both of my hands and placed them over my eyes, as I stroked back my medium-length hair. Pulling it as if I wanted to hurt myself physically so it would get rid of the pain in my heart I felt inside.