Deadly Charm (22 page)

“Look. I'm hung over. I really don't feel like any crap. You're leaving me, and I want to know why.”

“Last night—”

He groaned. “Why do we have to have a Cecil B. DeMille epic whenever we sleep together? We've done it twice. The first
time, I catch you making out with your
boyfriend
afterward. We do it again, and you pack up to leave me.”

“May I remind you that the first time
you
were the one who left. After you threw your keys at me and told me to go to hell.”

“I didn't throw my keys
at
you. If I had, I wouldn't have missed.”

“Jazz, I don't want to fight. I just want to go—”

“Are you going to see a lawyer? Because I know a great one. He can get you right out of a disastrous marriage that lasted all of five minutes. Ask me how I know.”

“You weren't kidding about being a jerk.”

He picked up his coffee and took a long drink of the hot liquid. “Why didn't you ask
me
to leave? Wouldn't that be easier?”

“Would you have gone?”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“Because God told me to live with you. You want to be disobedient, go right ahead.”

The man exasperated me to no end. I probably did the same to him. I tried to keep my growing frustration in check. “Jazz. I'm merely trying to—”

“Why don't you go already and stop tormenting me with your endless discussions.”

My mouth flew open. “Hey, Jazzy, I know! Why don't you toss me out the door and throw my suitcase right on top of me.”

“Why can't we just be normal, Bell? Be together. Cuddle. Say I love you. Go to sleep.”

I'd had enough of him. Enough! “You know what the problem with that is, Jazz? We weren't
together
.”

“I beg to differ.”

“Oh no, beloved. We weren't together at all.”

“Is this some kind of semantic thing?”

“No, it's not. Being together means you're fully present. You were in a drunken stupor, and my mind kept tripping over the thought that you had to get drunk before you could be with me. We were on two different planets.”

“Bell—”

“No, I'm going to talk now, Jazz. My father was an alcoholic. And last night I saw my life stretched out before me, with this gorgeous man who doesn't really want me but tolerates me because I'm the mother of his children.”

“Bell, wait. It wasn't—”

“Shut up!”

He actually did.

“I don't know what we did last night, because I don't understand us. For all my knowledge of human behavior, I'm a total idiot when it comes to Bell and Jazz. You flirt outrageously with me, move yourself in here, parade around naked, and insist on sleeping in the bed with me. You take care of me and romance me. You bombard me with
all that Jazz
, and when I finally trust you enough to
ask you
to make love,
you have to get drunk to do it
!”

Jazz took his turn. “I'm sure that made you feel bad, Bell. Almost as bad as I felt after you got up and puked. That made me feel like a real love machine, baby.”

“I'm pregnant. Pregnant women get morning sickness.”

“You don't want me! That's why you kissed Rocky after we were
together
! That's why you didn't come back to me. That's
why you threw up. That's why you take every opportunity to resist and defy me, and that's why your suitcase is at the door and
you're leaving me
!”

“Oh no,
beloved
, I wanted you, all right. I wanted you badly enough to…” I froze. I felt like I was turning into a sieve, leaking water everywhere all the time. I ached from wanting him and craved his arms around me, not the shouting match we were having. Tears had sprung from my eyes before I realized I needed to cry. I furiously wiped them away. Anger. Love. Hate. Grief. All surged within me. “The worst thing about last night was that I wanted you
despite
thinking you couldn't stand to be with me without getting trashed. I'm ashamed that a part of me doesn't care that you can't stand to touch me.”

That last confession took me right over the edge. I ran to the closet, got my boots on as quickly as possible and threw on my coat.

I snatched up my suitcase.

He finally got to the closet, his face red and full of rage. “And just where do you think you're going, Bell?”

I unlocked those stupid locks, looked at him, and answered. “Niagara Falls. And you'd better be gone when I get back.”

I
F
I
WERE A REFUGEE
or a battered woman or a homeless teen or fleeing a cult, it wouldn't matter. Rocky treated the stranger like Christ. He treated the friend like Christ. He treated family like Christ. I was family.

I showed up at the door a mess. Pulled together on the outside, but my eyes betrayed me. They constantly leaked. They shouted my sorrow like a herald.

The night I'd called him, right after Jazz and I made love on our wedding night, when I was a bundle of confusion, I sat on the floor in the corner of my living room. He had accepted my fragile state, even though his own heart broke, knowing he would finally have to release me. A million little things like that made me call him my
Rock
.

When Rocky saw me standing there with my own puppy eyes, he took my suitcase, linked his arm through mine, and led me to Elisa's room. We prayed and cried—that is, Rocky prayed, and Elisa and I cried. They didn't ask any questions, just hurt with me and talked to Jesus.

Rocky told me that he'd make some arrangements in the house and have a few of the men bunk in the same room so that
I could have a room to myself, for as long as I needed. Then he winked at me. “It won't be long.”

After that, they prayed for respite from the throbbing ache in my soul. I felt so sleepy. Kept yawning.

Rocky laughed. “Pregnant women,” he said with a shake of his blondilocks.

Elisa took my hand. “The baby is due in two weeks,” she said.

“
If
you make it that long,” I teased. “And you probably won't.”

“Rocky and I wanted to talk to you about something.”

I knew what it would be. What else?

Rocky got on his knees in front of Elisa and me. He took Elisa's right hand and my left. I stole a glance at Elisa's left hand to confirm my suspicions. A princess diamond gleamed on her ring finger. I wanted to jump up and down. Not a trace of jealousy remained in me. I knew Elisa was Rocky's beloved.

Rocky hit me with a weakening blast of the puppy eyes. He didn't need to. I could hardly keep a straight face.

He addressed me first. “Babe.”

I shot a look at Elisa. She laughed. “He's never going to stop calling you that. It's burned into his brain.”

Their kindness and acceptance overwhelmed me.

She put her arm around me. “Don't worry. He calls me Babykins.”

“Babykins! I love it. It suits you.”

Lord, how I'd come to love this woman. I thought about how I had found her in Gabriel's house, rail thin, her honey-colored skin pale and ashen. She'd been so afraid but was cling
ing to that last spark of life. I recognized her frail state because once I'd been her. I fought for her to choose life, and in choosing, she saved
my
life.

She came to the Rock House like shattered glass, transparent and beautiful yet broken with edges that could make you bleed if you weren't very careful. Rocky had been careful. He loved her back to herself. I always thought that was the best love gift, giving someone permission to be exactly who they are.

I turned my attention back to Rock.

“So what do you have to tell me?”

“Babe, I want Babykins Junior to have my last name.”

Oh Lordy, tears stung my eyes again. My heart felt so full I thought it would burst.

“Harrison is a great last name, Rocky.”

“And I want Mama Babykins to have my last name, too—”

I couldn't help it. I grabbed him and nearly asphyxiated him, hugging his neck before he could even get the rest out. Elisa joined our embrace. We group hugged; wiped tears, sniffed, and giggled like we'd had too much wine. We let one another go, and details flew out of Elisa like doves soaring skyward.

“We're going to have the wedding at the Rock House and Ezekiel is going to perform the ceremony.” The words fluttered out of Elisa so fast I could hardly keep up. “First I didn't want to until after the baby, but Rocky really, really, really wanted to do it this way and I'm gonna look like whale girl, but I'm sooooo happy.” Her green eyes shone both from tears and joy. “Bell, we want you to be our best person.”

I giggled. “Best person?”

Rocky's invisible tail wagged and his puppy eyes assaulted
me. “Dude, who says we have to be traditional? We want a best person, and you're one of the best best people we know.”

Elisa finished me off with, “We're bringing out the chocolate fountain.”

“But we only use that…”

When it dawned on me, my grin stretched almost to my ears.

Sly Elisa slowly bobbed her head. “Uh-huh.”

A Valentine's Day wedding. The day Rocky celebrated love without a beloved for all those years. Our feast this year would be a wedding feast.

“Okay, you talked me into it,” I said.

Another round of laughs.

Rocky said, “It means so much to us. I wouldn't have my Babykins if you hadn't brought her to me, babe.”

“She made it worth the trip, Rock.” I wagged my finger at Elisa. “But you're so going to paint my picture when I'm close to delivery.”

She clapped her hands, “You know I will, girl.”

Finally, peace settled on me. Somehow I knew we'd all be all right. Rocky had found his real babe. God gave Elisa both a husband and a father for the baby.

I want that too, Lord
.

You already have him
.

“I'm really tired,” I said. “I know it's early in the morning, but I can hardly keep my eyes open.”

Rocky jumped up, hoisted Babykins off the floor first, and took my hand to help me up.

He squeezed my hand. “How long do you need to stay, babe?”

I had no idea. Already I wanted to get back home. “I dunno, Rock. Maybe for as long as it takes for him to come for me. Maybe. I'm a little confused right now.”

He swept his hand across the back of my head and leaned in to kiss my forehead. “If you're planning on staying until Jazz comes for you, I wouldn't unpack if I were you. I'd expect him here in like ten minutes, and that's only because he'll have to obey the traffic laws.”

“You think so, Rock?”

“I know so, babe.” He put his hands on both my shoulders. “Do you remember how you felt when your father left home? You said you cried and begged him not to go.”

The memory pricked me in the heart. “I remember it well.”

He inclined toward me a little more. “You said you weren't the kind of person anybody would fight for. You said no one would ever beg you to stay.”

I hung my head down, “Yes. I did say that.”

He took his hands from my shoulders. Lifted my chin with his palm. “He'll come here fighting to have you back.”

“Impossible,” I said.

He sighed. “Babe. Will you promise me one thing?”

“Anything, Rock. I'm your best person after all.”

“Promise me you'll play hard to get. Let him work for you. You'll be surprised to see how much he'll be willing to do to have you. Promise?”

“Promise,” I said.

But all I could see was Jazz going on with his life, without me.

 

It took him twenty-seven minutes to get to me. Without looking out the peephole, I knew it was him by the way he pounded on the door—as if he was the police. I sprinted like Flo Jo to the door, but Rocky stopped me.

He grabbed my arm. “Babe, remember what we talked about?”

“Rocky, he's going to leave if you don't open the door.”

“He's not going to leave. Go into the living room and sit down. Wait. Okay?”

“But, Rocky—”

“I'm asking you to trust me, as a pastor—your pastor if you'd like—and a friend.”

“What if he's angry?” The way he pounded? He
was
angry. “What if…”

Rocky shooed me away and answered the door.

I eased down onto the sofa. My heart pounded with an intensity that matched Jazz's attempt to knock the door off its hinges. My hands trembled.

Please, God, don't let him start a fight with Rocky
.

I had no idea how things would play out.

I couldn't hear their conversation. I wanted to tear my tiny braid extensions off my head, one by one, out of frustration.

Finally my husband shouted loud enough to blow Rocky's dreadlocks back. “Where is she?”

Rocky raised his voice just a bit. “She's here, but you can't see her unless you calm down, dude.”

“Why is it that my
wife
has to come to you every time we make love?”

Rocky challenged him. “Why do
you
think that is, Jazz?”

“She obviously still has a
thing
for you.”

“Dude, if she had a thing for me, she wouldn't be
your
wife.”

“Just let me see her, Rocky, and I won't hurt you.”

“I'd like for you to answer the question, Jazz.”

Expletives flew out of Jazz's mouth. I gripped the cushions because I anticipated him cracking Rocky's skull. I stood up. Walked toward the foyer. Turned around again. If I went out there, it would only make him more angry if I didn't leave with him. I hugged myself. Forced myself to sit down again.

Lord, have mercy; Christ, have mercy; Lord, have mercy
.

Rocky raised his voice again. “Dude, you can cuss all you want, but that won't get you anything. Answer the question, Jazz. Why does your wife come to me after she's been with you?”

Silence. I wondered if Jazz was strangling him. I strained to hear, but they were quiet. I wondered if Jazz had killed him.

Finally, my husband's voice. “She probably thinks you're the better man.”

“No, friend. That's not why she comes to me.”

Then a miraculous moment of humility. “What am I doing wrong, Rocky? I don't know how to make her happy.”

“Dude, she just needs a safe place to be unsure.”

“Unsure about what?”

“Everything. You, herself, marriage.”

Rocky's answer swirled around my head like the smoke from
incense, and I breathed the words into me. For a moment I didn't think about Jazz. I thought about how
unsafe
everything in my life felt sometimes. Rocky called it right. I came to him because he lets me be a mess. I never have to be a psychologist with all the answers about human behavior with him.

For a long time, I could hear only soft voices. I couldn't make out what they said to each other. I asked myself what Rocky would likely do. If they'd come this far and Jazz hadn't left or stormed into the house to find me, Rocky would most likely be praying with him.

More soft voices. The door opened, then closed. I stood up and walked over to the hallway and sneaked down the hall to the foyer. I spotted Rocky walking toward me, alone. I didn't understand why Jazz wasn't coming to me.

“What happened?”

Rocky shrugged as if a shouting man demanding his wife came to the house every day. “We talked.”

“You talked?”

“And prayed.”

“You talked and prayed. Rocky! He sounded like he was ready to bludgeon you.”

He nodded, blondilocks bobbing. “He was, but he didn't because it would have hurt
you
.”

“That was risky.”

“No it wasn't. He doesn't want to hurt you. The dude is crazy about you. He's just scared.”

I snorted. “Scared? Of what?”

“He doesn't want to lose you, babe. He thinks he already has.”

I couldn't wrap my mind around the idea that Jazz was afraid to lose me. I shook my head and wanted to disagree, but suddenly I was way too tired. My own fear slipped out of my mouth. “He left me here.”

“He'll be back.”

“It's just like my father. He won't be back. He doesn't have to come back. He can go on and get any woman he wants.”

“He only wants one woman, babe.”

I shuffled back into the living room and flopped down on the couch. Rocky sat beside me. I turned to look at him. “Rock?”

He gave me a pastoral dose of puppy eyes. “What is it, babe?”

“You told Jazz that I need a safe place to be unsure. Why isn't Jazz safe for me?”

“Because he's as unsure as you are. You both want to protect yourselves, and you're not listening to each other. Babe, he loves you. And you love him. That's a great place to start. Everybody is going to be okay.”

“Are you sure, Rock?”

“I'm way sure, but, dude, you both got homework to do. And you did good with yours.”

“I barely made it.”

He laughed. “Oh, I know, but I had faith that you were going to sit there and play hard to get, and you did it.”

“What's Jazz's homework?”

“I can't tell you that.”

I hit his arm. “Rocky! Tell me.”

“Nope!”

“Why not.”

“Sometimes, God wants to surprise you.”

“Do I
want
God to surprise me?”

He so didn't pay any attention to me. “You're going to have to figure out if you believe God loves you. In the process, figuring out if your husband loves you will get easier. For now, play hard to get. Seek God. Believe He wants you to have this.”

I thought about Zeekie's funeral, something Rocky said to Ezekiel Thunder, “
Jesus said unto him, If thou canst believe, all things are possible to him that believeth
.”

In that moment, I knew Jesus was saying the exact same thing unto me.