Don't Tell A Soul (9 page)

PAM

 

 

 

 

I
've discovered a secret about my writing. If I do it outside of my home, I'm a lot more productive. Maybe it's because the kids and Troy can't bother me, or maybe it's because I hold myself more accountable at this booth in Starbucks than at home, in my bed, with my feet propped up and the TV playing in the background.

My new story is about a struggling single mother of two who finally meets her dream man but is too caught up in her baggage to see that he's a great guy. Admittedly, I got some of the inspiration from Taylor, who almost didn't end up with Spencer. She broke up with him until she found herself, and then she was lucky that he was still available.

I take a sip of my Chai Latte and type a few words. Then a couple sits down at the table next to me, and the writing stops. They are so into each other—he's telling her how his life has changed since he found her, and she's giggling and cooing at every word. I try to remember if Troy and I were ever like that. We weren't.

Not that we haven't had some great times together, because we really got along great when we were younger, before the children. But this goo-goo gaga type stuff? I don't remember Troy and I having that type of thing, and I don't know if I would've wanted it.

Since I can't even think about writing anything with all this mushiness going on, I play solitaire on my computer and hope that they finish their coffee quickly. Then they can take their romantic selves back to the house or wherever else they gaze into one another's eyes.

“Pam?”

I look up from my computer, and Logan is standing in front of me with a huge grin on his face and a cup in his hand. His jolliness is infectious, and I can't do anything but smile back at him.

“Hey, Logan! Getting your caffeine fix?”

He nods. “Yep. Are you working on a book?”

“I'm supposed to be writing, but I'm playing on my computer right now.”

He helps himself to the seat across from me. “It's okay to play for a while, but don't get too off track. That book isn't going to write itself.”

Logan stares at me over his coffee cup as he sips, and darn it if I don't have to look away from him. The intensity of his gaze feels too intimate; it makes me feel like we're sharing a moment when we shouldn't be.

“You're right. I need to get to work, but I guess I just got a little distracted.”

Just as I say that, the romantic couple decides it's time to take their party on the road. Now I can get some work done.

“I admire writers,” Logan says. “It's as if you can tap into something that most of us normal people can't even touch.”

This makes me laugh. “You're not normal, Logan! According to Troy, you're some kind of musical prodigy or something. He has nothing but great things to say about you.”

“I'm just doing what I'm called to do, you know? Music is the thing I'm most passionate about. I can't imagine my life without music. I can imagine myself without money, but I never want to think about a world without music. I wouldn't want to live there.”

I feel myself sigh. It sounds like the kind of noise that young girls make when they meet their musical idol in person. Like, if I had met Ralph Tresvant as a teenager, I probably would've made that sound. When it dawns on me that the noise I made was in response to Logan's love of music, I'm a little embarrassed.

“I'm the same way about writing and books,” I say. “I am so glad to finally get the opportunity to share my writing with the world. I got offered a book deal a long time ago, and then I had my son and couldn't focus.”

“It's your time to shine, then. I'm sure Troy is going to be happy once you get out there and start doing the book signings and everything else. It's exciting.”

I take a long pause before replying. “I'm not sure that Troy is happy about anything other than Aria's singing.”

Logan sets his coffee cup on the table and folds his arms across his chest. His handsome face becomes serious. “You're his wife, not Aria. If he's not excited about this, then there is something wrong with him.”

“No, no, no. It's not like that.” Suddenly I feel the need to defend Troy. “He's just, you know, frustrated about the music. He used to be very supportive of my writing. It's only recently that he's changed a little.”

“You want me to talk to him?”

My eyes widen. “Oh, dear God, no! He'd hate that I even shared any of this with you. As a matter of fact, I beg you not to mention it. I was just venting, and I shouldn't have.”

Logan's face relaxes, and his smile returns. “Your secret is safe with me, Pam. I'd never want to see that pretty face frowning because of something I did.”

Darn him! Now I'm looking away again. He makes me so dang uncomfortable, but in a good way. In a way I don't want to stop.

“I should probably get back to my writing now,” I say.

“You should. I'll be quiet so you can concentrate.”

I shake my head and laugh again. “I can't work with you sitting here!”

This seems to tickle Logan. He gives a good and hearty laugh and then sips more of his coffee. “Now I'm the distraction.”

“Yes, you are! You're even more distracting than the couple that just left.”

“I think I like that. I don't believe I've distracted a woman in a long time.”

Okay, now I'm giving him my “Yeah, right” face. There is no way this man has problems with the ladies. In fact, the only issue Logan probably has with women is which one to choose. He's got to be beating them off with a stick.

“Get the heck out of here, Logan. I know you've got women lining up to be with you.”

“I'm more interested in quality than quantity. The great women out here are few and far between. As a matter of fact, I think that great women are an endangered species.”

“Well, what is your definition of a great woman? You keep saying that. I hear women looking for a good man, but you are looking for a
great
woman.”

Logan stretches his long legs out in front of the table and grazes my leg in the process. I jump like I've been electrocuted by a live wire.

“A great woman is someone who knows she's beautiful, even if she doesn't look like a movie star. A great woman knows her worth and is confident enough to support her man and chase her own dreams.”

“Wow.”

“Yeah. I meant it when I told Troy he had a great woman. He needs to recognize it.”

“Well, I'm sure you'll find someone.”

He shrugs and then lets out a long sigh. “You'd be surprised at how many times I thought I'd found the one. Then, when I tell a woman I want to be celibate until marriage, it all falls apart.”

Now
this
is interesting. Actually, this is book material! I've got to hear more about this. Writing can wait.

“Come again? A celibate man? That's a new one.”

“You've never heard of a God-fearing man being celibate? I don't think it's that unusual, and if it is, it shouldn't be.”

“The only men that I know who are celibate are either virgins or they couldn't get it even if they paid for it. I go to church with a lot of single brothas, and the majority of them are
not
celibate. That's just real talk.”

“So if there aren't any celibate men, how are the women living saved and single? They can't be celibate by themselves.”

“Right. They are celibate because they are by themselves!”

This makes Logan roar with laughter. He literally has tears in his eyes, he's laughing so hard.

“Pam, you are funny!”

“I'm telling the truth, and you know it.”

He clutches his side and laughs a little more. “Okay, okay. Let me clear something up. I am
not
a virgin, and obviously, I could get it if I wanted it.”

“It's not that obvious,” I say with a deadpan look on my face that makes Logan laugh some more.

“Anyway! I can get with a woman if I want. I just want the next woman I connect with on that level to be my wife. I spent my twenties and half of my thirties having random encounters with women. It's not what it's cracked up to be. I'm ready for something real.”

“And you know what? God's gonna bless you with someone incredible. I can feel that.”

“You got any friends? Wanna hook a brotha up?”

I scan my mind and try to think of a single friend who'd fit his description of a great woman. I don't have one friend who's anything like what he's looking for. And the ones that come close would probably think he's gay for not wanting to have sex.

“If I think of anyone, I'll be sure to let you know.”

“You could just clone yourself, and that would be perfect.”

Why does he keep saying these things to me? I feel like he's crossing some invisible line that's drawn in the atmosphere. Maybe he's ignoring the line, or maybe I'm not making it clear that there even is a line. Either way, there's a twinge of guilt in the pit of my stomach that makes me question this entire exchange.

“Logan, I will be praying that God sends the woman you're waiting for. In the meantime, as much as I'm enjoying chopping it up with you, I really,
really
need to get some work done.”

Finally, Logan stands, and a wave of relief washes over me. “Okay. I'll let you get to your work. You just make sure you don't put any of my business in that book you're writing.”

“You didn't know? Anything you say to me is liable to end up on the page. I come with a disclaimer.”

“I'd be honored to be in your book. Just make sure you embellish a brotha a little bit. Talk to you soon.”

I wave good-bye to Logan as he leaves the Starbucks. Half of the women in here give him second and third looks as he exits the building, taking all that swagger with him. I let out another long sigh and type a few more words.

Who knows? Logan just might end up in my book. But he doesn't need any embellishment at all. In this case the truth is better than any fiction I'd ever create.

EVA

 

 

 

 

E
va looked at the little piece of paper with Yvonne's number on it. She had considered calling more than once but couldn't think of what she'd say if Yvonne answered.

She set the paper down and picked up the ragged Bible she'd pulled out of a box in her closet. It had been her grandmother's Bible—it was the only thing Eva took from the house when she died. While everyone else argued over Grandma Susie's jewelry and furs, Eva took the thing her grandmother had cherished most.

Eva hadn't been close to Grandma Susie right before she died. The adult film industry had alienated Eva from her entire family, but especially from her grandmother. Grandma Susie wouldn't speak a word to Eva, and every time they were in the same room, Grandma Susie would just start praying.

Eva had loved her grandmother more than anything. She'd sat in Grandma Susie's lap until she was ten years old, listening to all the stories she told about growing up on a farm in Arkansas with her nine siblings. No matter what any of her cousins said, Eva knew she was her grandmother's favorite.

But everything had changed when Eva's Uncle Parnell had started touching her. He would lure Eva into his room at Grandma Susie's house with a treat or a pretty toy and then touch her in places no little girl should be touched.

Eva remembered hating the touches, but she loved her uncle and didn't want him to be angry with her. She'd kept the abuse secret for years before she told her mother, who was by then already on drugs.

When the secret was revealed, everyone was angry with her and not with Uncle Parnell. Grandma Susie had called her a little harlot for letting it go on for so long. Her mother told her she was fast and always had been.

Eva shivered and felt her eyes water at the memory of that ordeal with Uncle Parnell. She clutched Grandma Susie's Bible, trying to conjure up a good recollection to counteract the bad. She missed her grandmother—not the mean and hateful Grandma Susie that had cast Eva out of her own family, but the one who had rocked her in her arms and had read her stories from her Bible as if it was her own personal storybook.

Eva felt so alone in the world. Even though the other adult film performers weren't really her family, they were all she had. They were the only other people she'd connected with since the time that she was sixteen. Eva couldn't believe that she'd been in the industry for over twenty years.

Eva opened Grandma Susie's Bible and just started reading wherever her eyes landed. She read a story in the book of Mark about a woman who wanted a demon cast out of her child and asked Jesus for help.

Jesus's reply was, “Let the children first be filled, for it is not meet to take the children's bread, and to cast it unto the dogs.”

Eva kept reading. She felt like that woman. An outcast on the outskirts of everyone who seemed blessed. All Eva wanted was a little thing from God. Nothing big. She just wanted a friend and the assurance that she wouldn't be homeless for keeping her promise to Him.

In the next verse, the woman said, “Yes, Lord, yet the dogs under the table eat of the children's crumbs.”

And then Jesus did something miraculous for that woman. He healed her daughter of her demon possession, though she wasn't one of the precious children. Even though she was an outcast.

Another tear trickled down Eva's face and landed on the page. Something told her that if she would just ask God, He would help her with what she needed, despite the fact that she hadn't done everything right. Even if she had been touched by her uncle for four years.

She felt so small, like she imagined the woman in the Bible felt. But Jesus had done a miracle in that woman's life, and Eva wondered if the same could happen in her situation.

Eva's rent was due, and she had one hundred dollars to her name. She hadn't been smart like some of the other film stars she'd known over the years. Eva hadn't saved a penny, but had spent most of it partying and living like a rock star. It had never occurred to her that one day she'd leave the industry.

Eva put down the Bible and picked up the phone. It was dinnertime for most people, but Yvonne had said to call her anytime.

“Hello?” Yvonne said when she answered the phone.

“Um, hi, Sister Yvonne. It's Eva.”

There was a long pause. Eva thought it was because Yvonne didn't recognize her voice. Then finally Yvonne replied, “Oh! Eva, how are you?”

“Well . . . did I catch you at a bad time?”

“I was just on my way out to Bible study, but it's not a bad time. You want to talk about something?”

“I do. Maybe I'll just come up to the church and see you face-to-face. Is that okay?”

“Of course it is, honey! I'm looking forward to us talking again.”

This made Eva smile. She couldn't think of anyone else right now who'd be looking forward to seeing her or talking to her. A feeling of warmth filled her body.

“I'm looking forward to it, too.”

“Well, come on, then. It's funny you called me just now. I think God must have a Word for both of us tonight. What do you think?”

Eva looked down at the Bible on the table and said, “I think God already gave me one Word today, but I sure wouldn't pass up another one.”

Yvonne laughed into the phone. It was a melodic laugh, which Eva enjoyed hearing. “Ain't nothing wrong with being greedy over God. See you at church!”

“Okay, Sister Yvonne.”

Even after Yvonne disconnected the call, Eva sat there holding the phone, in awe of what had just happened. She thought that maybe she'd found a friend for the first time since she was a teenager.

But she wondered, would Yvonne want to be friends with one of the dogs?