Dream Girl Awakened (29 page)

“The developer?”

“The one and only. Her cousin owns Divas in Training. The same lead you gave me last year. One thing led to another, and we hooked up. They've really helped me get myself on track. I was temping during the day and doing hair in our basement at night and on the weekends. Before you even ask, Victoria stopped by
one day while I was doing our neighbor Paris's hair. I think she thought I had something going on.”

“Yeah, she mentioned it. I didn't know what to think. James, I'm so proud of you. I knew you could do it.”

“We did it. It took you leaving me to recognize what a good wife I have. I don't want a divorce. Can we try to work things out? I don't expect you to come running back into my arms like nothing happened. Will you give us one more chance?”

“James.”

“You told me to walk the walk and not talk the talk. That's what I'm trying to do now.”

Aruba sighed. Tonight cemented the uneasiness she felt about being with Winston. How could she be with him and have an honest relationship? She looked at James, really saw his genuineness, his desire to please her. She couldn't deny that she still loved him. He was the only man she'd ever loved. How could she start anew with all she'd done? She took his hands into hers and smiled.

“You haven't mentioned it, but I'm sorry I hit you. I will go to anger management if necessary, but I promise I'll never put my hands on you again. There's no excuse for me touching you.”

The words “I still love you” danced on the tip of her tongue. She wanted to believe James, to imagine they could start anew. She looked deep into his eyes. She ran her fingers through his hair and formed the words “I'll try” just as a brick sailed past her, the storefront glass drowning out Maxwell.

Tawatha wasted no time disturbing the tranquil atmosphere. Aruba recognized her from the party, wondered why she was there.

“Oh, so this is loving me, James?”

“Tawatha, what is wrong with you? I know damn well you didn't crash this glass and walk in my business like you've lost your mind!”

Seeing James caused a new wave of emotions to flood Tawatha's
senses. She looked at James and repeated the words he spoke during their time alone. “My wife doesn't appreciate me, Tawatha.” “I want to be with you, Tawatha.” “My wife has cancer, Tawatha.” She yelled, “She doesn't even want you, James! She's seeing someone else!”

“James, who is this and why is she here?”

Tawatha stepped in Aruba's face, the Pink Panties bolstering her confidence. “I am the woman your husband has been sleeping with the past year. I am the woman who has been in your house, held your son, and would be sitting here with James if you would leave him alone.”

James, nervous with Aruba's nonplussed stance, stood between the women. “Tawatha, I told you I don't want you. I love my wife, and I want to keep my family together.”

“I'm not leaving until you tell her everything about us.”

“There's nothing to tell. I made a stupid mistake sleeping with you and I regret it. I never told you I loved you, I never promised you anything. Don't you get it? I don't want to be with you!”

“While you've been lying to me, pretending Miss America here has cancer, she's been creeping with her friend Victoria's husband.”

“I
know
that's a lie because Winston fronted me the funds for my business. No way would he be that kind of snake.”

Aruba tried to process the information she'd been given. She couldn't imagine James being courageous enough to approach Winston for anything. Yet, they stood in a space a few days away from a magnificent grand opening. She refused to acknowledge Tawatha. She had to be the one to tell James about Winston. There was no turning back now. He had to hear the truth from her point of view.

“Tawatha, I know you hear the sirens nearing. You've set off the alarm system with all this high drama. My husband asked you to
leave, so I suggest you exit the premises before you're arrested.”

“Fine! To hell with both of you! You're a match made in hell. Playing games with people's feelings.”

“Tawatha, just go. Please,” said James.

“If you call me again . . .” Tawatha paused. She clutched her stomach, tried to hold the vomit rising to her throat. She ran out the front door of the shop, humiliated once again. She threw up on the corner of Illinois and St. Clair. She needed familiarity, something to calm her nerves. She jumped in Lasheera's car and sped away, cursing at her miserable luck.

Inside, James paced back and forth. He finally got the nerve to address Aruba. “Do I want to know what she's talking about?”

“Do I want to know why you were with her?” She shook her head. “At least I know who Miss T. is.”

James leaned against the wall, then dropped to the floor. “How long have you been seeing Winston?”

“Probably as long as you've been seeing Tawatha.”

“Did you sleep with him?”

“No, James. I can honestly say I haven't. Of course, you can't say the same thing about Tawatha.”

“Did I hurt you that much that you had to turn to him? Hell, any other man for that matter.”

“Yes, you did.”

“Do you love him?”

“I don't know that I'd call it love. Fondness. Admiration, perhaps.”

“Translation, money. Right?”

“No. It's not just that. Listen, I'm so confused right now, I don't know what to do or say. I want you to know how proud I am of you, James. Standing here takes me back to the beginning of our marriage. You're exhibiting what I knew you could do all along. I just hate that it took so long for this to happen.”

James thought back on his mother's mandate.
It takes two people to make a marriage go bad.

“Aruba, I love you. For the sake of our son and our vows, please, let's start over again. Let's leave the past behind us and start fresh. I know I've let you down in the past and I've hurt you, but I can't lose you. I don't want to be without you.”

“James, let me think about it.”

“Take all the time you need. I'm not going anywhere.”

James scanned his hard work, his effort. He estimated the window repair would be at least twelve hundred dollars.
A small price to pay for the mess I've made.

T
awatha staggered in the house as Aunjanue read to S'n'c'r'ty on the sofa. She kicked off her shoes at the front door, neglecting to place them on the shoe rack. She didn't care about order tonight. The most important thing was getting James out of her system. What would it take for her to find someone that would be hers exclusively? She couldn't stomach pursuing another man. Not after all the pain she'd endured.

“Momma, are you okay?” asked Aunjanue. “You look like you've been crying.”

“What's it to you? Can't I cry or be down without the four of you in my business?” Tawatha snapped.

“I was just concerned.” Aunjanue paused. “I . . . I wanted to know if I could still go to Tarsha's for the sleepover tonight. She's a few doors down and I'm close enough to come back home if you need me.”

“I wanna come,” S'n'c'r'ty piped in.

“It's a big girl party, remember?”

“Onnie, you're always leaving me!”

“I'll be back Sunday. We'll play Connect Four when I come back.”

“You promise?”

“Yes, I promise. Now let me pack the rest of my things.”

“Mind your manners at the Mosleys' house,” Tawatha said.
She tried to hide the irritation in her voice, but the night's events made it hard.

“Yes, ma'am.”

Aunjanue headed to her room, grateful that tonight would be one spent away from babysitting, cooking, and cleaning. She didn't mind helping out with her siblings, but she felt Tawatha was taking her presence for granted more and more. She could count on both hands and feet the number of girls at school who experimented with sex, talked back to their parents, or had been sent to alternative schools throughout the city because they'd gotten pregnant. Where was her reward for being diligent, for forgoing the things girls her age did? She wasn't sure how to broach the subject with Tawatha, but when she returned on Sunday, she would ask Tawatha about the possibility of having a closer relationship with her biological father. Was he married now? Did he have other children?

Spending time at the Mosleys' home had begun taking its toll on her psyche.

Tarsha's father, Jayson, came home like clockwork from his job at Merck each night. Aunjanue witnessed him walk through the door, give Tarsha's mother a kiss, ask her about her day, and sit down to dinner all ready on the table for him. Sometimes their conversations were about the news or other mundane details; other times he rooted for his wife in regard to her decorating business. Aunjanue had always heard marriage wasn't easy, but theirs was the one union that made her reconsider her stance to never jump the broom. At least that's what they were doing on a photo in the living room.

Aunjanue rifled through her closet in preparation for the weekend. The Mosleys had planned a packed weekend for her, Tarsha,
Johanna Patino, Jennifer Wilson, and Carmen Lawrence. Their reward for having all A's on their report cards was a slumber party, breakfast at LePeep on Saturday morning followed by full spa services at Divas in Training. Mrs. Mosley planned a backyard barbecue after the spa visit. The weekend would end with church on Sunday and a visit later that evening to Caribbean Cove. The most Tawatha gave Aunjanue for getting good grades was a weak “I'm proud of you, baby” or “Keep up the good work.”

Aunjanue was smitten by the Mosleys; they were her first couple crush. She looked at them and wondered if her brothers and sister would be happier, have more opportunities if they had a man like Jayson around. She even loved Jayson's corny sayings. Like the time he put a spin on a familiar phrase by saying, “When life gives you eggs, you'd better make a darn good omelet. Just make sure the chickens are free range, though.”

S'n'c'r'ty sat on the bed as Aunjanue packed her clothes.

“What are you doing in here, lil' bit?”

“I came to help you pack. Plus, Momma's got a funky attitude. What's she crying about?”

Aunjanue packed jeans and two blouses in her suitcase. “I don't know. Just stay out of her way while I'm gone, okay.”

“Can I help you pack?”

“
May
I help you pack? I know you remember that.”

“May I help you?”

“Look in my top drawer and get my travel bag. I have my toothpaste, toothbrush, and deodorant in it. The pink one.”

S'n'c'r'ty bounced off the bed and retrieved the bag. She gingerly placed it in Aunjanue's suitcase and hugged her from behind. She peered over into the suitcase, and exclaimed, “I'm telling Momma you've got a grown-lady gown.”

“What are you talking about?”

S'n'c'r'ty lifted the pink Candies baby doll nightgown and matching panties and twirled like a ballerina.

“That's one of the sets Auntie Sheer bought me. Actually, Auntie Sheer and her boss, Miss Aruba, bought me some clothes and lingerie from Victoria's Secret. They said a growing girl needs feminine underwear. They really bought me some nice things.”

“I hope someone buys me some nice things like that when I get bigger.”

“I'll buy you nice things when you get bigger. I plan on finding a part-time job in three years. I can't work until I'm sixteen.”

Aunjanue recognized S'n'c'r'ty's ploy. Whenever she had somewhere to go, S'n'c'r'ty made idle chitchat, hoping to keep her home. As much as she enjoyed her sister's company, she was ready to breathe, laugh, giggle with the girls, catch up on gossip, and for a brief time, settle in to normalcy with a real family.

“Zip up my suitcase for me, lil' bit.”

S'n'c'r'ty obliged. They gathered Aunjanue's suitcase, setting it by the front door. The television blared gospel programming, but it was obvious Tawatha was in another galaxy. She stared past the TV, her dejected expression not lost on the girls.

“Let's check on Sims and Grant.”

Aunjanue peeked in on the boys, both in a serious Xbox battle. “Don't forget to—”

“Take out the trash and clean the tub,” Grant called over his shoulders.

“And I'm supposed to do waffles and bacon in the morning. I remember,” said Sims.

“Stay out of Momma's way, okay, Grant and Sims.” She waited for a response from them. “I can't get a hug before I leave?” she asked.

They threw down their joysticks, gave her a quick hug, and mumbled, “I love you,” before getting back to their game. S'n'c'r'ty trailed her back to the living room.

“Momma, I'm leaving now.”

Aunjanue sat next to Tawatha, hoping to get her attention.

“Don't go down to the Mosleys acting crazy. Do what they tell you to do and mind your business, okay.”

Her words were distant. She stared at the charismatic preacher on the screen, speaking more to him than Aunjanue. Aunjanue kissed Tawatha's cheek, hugged S'n'c'r'ty, then dragged her roll-away suitcase out the door. She couldn't wait to spend time with the girls.

S
ims had almost forgotten the soccer application. Coach Ford reminded him twice to make sure his mother filled out the paperwork and supplied the registration fee. Now was a good time to approach her for the money. He'd rehearsed his speech several times, remembering to impart the importance of sports as a means of socialization. That's what Coach Ford swore by when he encouraged the boys to participate in soccer. Sims thought of Aunjanue's words, to leave Tawatha alone because she was in one of her moods. He needed the money, needed his classmates to know he was just as worthy as they were to participate in fun and games. He'd approach Tawatha boldly with the application because soccer was the first thing that stirred his passion. Not only was it fulfilling, but Coach Ford beamed when he made a goal or gave it his all. As he stepped from his bedroom, Sims thought he heard someone call his name. He shook off the notion, attributed it to playing Xbox too long.