Forever An Ex (16 page)

I nodded, not that I agreed. It was true, Harmony wasn't my friend, but she was my soror. And Kendall wouldn't understand the sisterhood bond that went beyond any kind of friendship.

“I just feel like Harmony came to me, asked me questions, and though I didn't know the answers then, I do now.”

“Okay,” Kendall said. “Let's play this tape all the way through. Let's say you call Harmony. What're you gonna tell her? That Quentin is back together with Jett? Because you don't know that for sure.”

“Oh, please!” Asia waved her hand in the air like she was swatting away Kendall's words. “Two men at a romantic restaurant? What were they doing there?”

“I have no idea. Which means that whatever answer I give you is just conjecture. And conjecture means nothing. The only thing it will do is mess up someone's life,” Kendall said.

“Well, it's not like I plan on saying that he's
involved
with Jett. If I were to talk to Harmony, I'd only say that I saw Quentin and Jett together.”

Kendall shook her head as Asia nodded hers.

Kendall said, “This ain't nothin' but trouble.”

Asia said, “You're doing the right thing.”

Kendall huffed.

Asia said to Kendall, “Wouldn't you want someone to tell you if they saw your man all hugged up with another man?” Then she held her finger to her forehead as if she just had a thought. “Oh, wait, you don't have a man.”

Asia laughed, and usually this would be the point where Kendall would jump up, ready to fight. At the very least, she'd be stomping out of here. So, it was time to stop all of this before a fight broke out in church on a Sunday.

“Okay, well,” I said before Kendall could say anything, “at least I had the chance to talk it out with both of you.”

“What're you going to do?” Kendall asked.

I shrugged. “I'm not sure yet.” That was the truth and the safest answer because Kendall wouldn't leave until she persuaded me that she was the one who was right.

“Well, don't do anything before you pray,” Kendall said.

“Yeah, God'll tell you what to do,” Asia added.

“He'll tell you to mind your business.” Kendall laughed and Asia rolled her eyes.

“I'm definitely going to pray,” I said, though I felt as if God had already been talking to me. That's what the sermon was about. I just wasn't clear on what He was saying.

I was going to keep praying, though. Just pray that God would lead me to do the right thing . . . whatever that was.

Chapter

Twenty-Two

I
t was taking a lot for me to do this, a lot for me to make this call.

I had let time pass, hoping that the image of Quentin and Jett would fade from my memory, hoping that God would give me an answer to my prayers.

Well, time passed, but every day Quentin and Jett were as clear in my mind's eye as they'd been nine days ago. And while I didn't feel like I had an answer from God, I had a heavy heart. That had to mean something.

Glancing at the clock, I realized my time was running out. I'd procrastinated as long as I could. If I was going to do this today, it had to be now. It had to be while I was home alone, and it had to be when I thought Harmony would still be on her shift at work so that she wouldn't be able to answer.

I scrolled through my telephone, saw the 248 area code that was Harmony's number, and clicked. The words were already in my mind; I'd rehearsed them for days. And I'd practiced talking fast so that I could get it out as quickly as I could.

Harmony, if you'd like to get together again, so would I. We can talk . . . and maybe there will be more that I can tell you. Just give me a call if you're interested.

That was all I was going to say. The decision of what would come next was going to be made by Harmony and God.

But then, after the third ring of her phone, I heard, “Hello.”

“Harmony?”

“Speaking.”

“Oh, I'm sorry, this is Sheridan,” I said with surprise all in my voice. “I wasn't sure that I was going to get you. I thought you'd be working and I was just going to leave a message.”

“Today's my day off,” she said.

There was no warmth in her tone. Not that she was rude; she just sounded like my voice was the last one she wanted to hear today, or probably even tomorrow.

“Well,” I said, knowing that I sounded as hesitant as she did. But that was because my mind was a blank now. I hadn't rehearsed this scenario. I said, “I was calling to see if we could get together again.”

There was a pause, a long, long pause. “You know what, Sheridan? I'm sorry I called you before. I mean, I'm not sorry that we met and we talked; I'm just sorry that I came to you with that nonsense. I don't know what I'd been thinking, but I know my fiancé, and you're right about him. Quentin's a good man. I don't have anything to worry about.”

The image of Quentin and Jett walking into Rendezvous flashed through my mind. Again . . . and again. I squeezed my eyes shut, and forced my mouth to say, “Okay.” Then as if I was in a speed-speaking contest, I said, “Have a good day.” I hung up, not even waiting for her good-bye.

I tossed my phone onto the nightstand, then fell back against the bed. My prayers had been answered. I wouldn't have to say a word and now all I had to wait for was for God to lift this ache from my heart. Silently, I asked Him to give me peace.

And then I heard, “Now, that's the way I want my woman!”

I glanced up and Brock stood at the doorway with his arms folded. For a moment I wondered how long he'd been there. Had he heard me talking to Harmony? But the grin on his face told me that he hadn't heard a thing and was thinking only one thing.

He said, “Yup, I want my woman lying on the bed spread-eagled just like that when I come home from a hard day at work.” He tilted his head, then his eyebrows came together in a frown. “Just one thing is missing.” He nodded. “Yeah, just one thing.”

I pushed myself up. “What?”

“Why aren't you naked, woman?”

I shook my head and he laughed as he jumped onto the bed with me. As I lay back and he kissed me, I marveled at how quickly God had answered this prayer. I'd just asked Him to take away the agony, to give me peace, and inside my husband's arms, all I felt was wonderful.

But in the middle of his kisses, my cell phone rang. It was Brock who reached for the phone. It was Brock who glanced at the screen and said, “I don't recognize the number.”

He shifted the phone so that I could get a look and my smile went away. But I recovered enough to shake my head and say, “I don't know who that is.” I grabbed the lapels of his jacket and pulled him and his lips back to me.

But no matter what I did, I couldn't get back into the mood. I couldn't melt at Brock's kisses the way I always did.

Because of that phone call.

I told Brock that I didn't recognize the number, but this secret I held was turning me into a liar.

I knew who was calling.

Harmony.

She was calling me back, and I knew, just knew, that meant bad news.

Chapter

Twenty-Three

T
his would've been a déjà vu moment, except this time I was the one waiting in Starbucks.

I was the one sitting in the back, in the corner, in the dark, trying my best not to be seen. I'd worn black, hoping that I would blend in with the walls, the tables, the air. If I was telling the truth, I didn't even want to be seen by Harmony.

As I wrapped my hands around the warmth of my cup, I asked myself for the one-millionth time if I was doing the right thing. And my one-millionth answer was the same. I was . . . because I understood my motives. Like Pastor Ford had said in her sermon, check your motives before you make a move.

Well, I'd checked my motives over and over again. I was doing this because to this day I wished to God that someone had told me. Plus, Harmony was the one who called me. Twice.

I hadn't even called her back. But the next morning, she reached out again, and when I answered, she said simply, “I've changed my mind. I want to get together.”

She didn't even have to tell me that; I knew it was why she'd called. And so, we'd set this time to meet.

I was resolute in my decision. It was the right thing, but not easy.

Maybe I should've called Kendall. No . . . that wouldn't have worked. She would've made me cancel this meeting. Asia was the one that I should've called. She would've been right here with me. In fact, I wouldn't have had to say a word. Asia would've told Harmony everything, and then made up some stuff to make sure that Harmony got it.

“Sheridan.”

I looked up. “Hi,” was all I could say.

Harmony said the same as she slid into the chair across from me. Then she shifted her glance and twisted in her seat. Finally, she sat still. But she sat so straight that she looked like she was leaning against a board. Her lips were pressed together as tightly as her fingers that were curled around the straps of her purse.

I wondered how many sleepless hours she'd spent since we talked. The dark shadows beneath her eyes told me there'd been many.

Oh, God, I felt so sorry for what I was about to do.

For a moment I wondered if there was a way for me to get out of this. Harmony was going to suffer heartbreak, of that I was sure. But maybe I could postpone it. Maybe she didn't have to hear this from me. Maybe she could marry Quentin and it would be years before she found out he was seeing Jett.

But was that the right thing? Would I be culpable if something happened to her? If something happened to her sexually, mentally, or even physically?

At that moment Vanessa Martin flashed through my mind. Vanessa, my dear friend, who had been part of the Ex Files group that Pastor had put together. Vanessa, who had lost her husband, Reed, when he committed suicide. Vanessa, who had then, just months later, done the same.

Vanessa had been in such despair, and from the day that Pastor Ford had given us the news about her death, I'd always been on the lookout for that kind of distress in any of my friends. That's why I was always so concerned about Kendall and Asia.

And that's why Harmony was now on my heart.

Harmony wasn't a friend, but she'd been put into my life for this season probably for this reason. I owed her the same concern that I gave to everyone else.

She said, “This is about Quentin, isn't it?”

I nodded. Though we'd never mentioned his name the two times we'd spoken since our last meeting, that wasn't any great revelation. What other reason would we have for getting together?

She nodded, too. “Like I told you, I'd made up my mind. I was going to get rid of all of my doubts, and just start a new life with Quentin.”

I know my face was stretched with sadness when all I did was look at her.

“I know that Quentin loves me,” she added, as if I needed to know that before I told her my news.

“I believe that, Harmony.” I didn't tell her that I didn't think it meant anything, though. Hadn't Quentin loved me the whole time he was falling in love with Jett?

“Well, if you believe that, why are we here?” she asked.

I took a deep breath, exhaled, and reminded myself of my motive. “I think he loves you, Harmony,” I said, thinking it was best to start with that good news. “Quentin's not the type of man to play with people's feelings.”

She blew out such a long breath of relief that I thought she was going to collapse right there at our table.

“But . . .”

With that single word, I took all of her solace away.

I said, “I saw him the other day.”

“Quentin?” She frowned as if that couldn't possibly be my big news.

I nodded.

When I said nothing more, Harmony shook her head a little. “So . . . you saw him . . . did he say something about me?”

“No, he didn't mention you at all. But, I saw him . . . with Jett.”

She recognized the name right away. Still, she asked for clarification. “The man . . . who was the reason for your divorce.”

I said, “Yes.”

She paused and I watched her lips tremble when she said, “Well . . . okay . . . there could be lots of reasons for that, right?” She didn't give me a chance to answer, to explain. She said, “I mean, even though they're not together anymore, they could still be friends, right? You and Quentin are friends, right?”

I just let her go on.

Now there were tears in her voice when she said, “And, I guess people who are friends are bound to run into each other, right? I mean, people think L.A. is big, but it's really a small place, right? The two of them probably just had some things to talk about, right?”

The tears in her voice made their way to her eyes.

That was when I knew that there was no way that I could do this.

“You know what, Harmony,” I began as I pushed my cup aside and moved to the edge of my chair so that I could stand and get out of there. “You're right. That's all it was. Two friends getting together, trying to catch up with each other.” And then I smiled. But my lie was so bad, so ridiculous, that I couldn't even fool this woman who didn't know me at all.

“Where did you see them?” she asked, not letting me get away.

I leaned back in my seat, though I stayed silent.

She said, “Were they embracing?” Then her voice got a little louder. “Were they kissing?” Now even more volume. “Tell me! What was my fiancé doing with Jett?”

“Harmony!” My eyes scanned the space around us and I was grateful for the music that played through the speakers throughout the café. Thank God Luther Vandross's crooning was louder than her cries.

“What? Now you don't want to tell me?” She wept like she already knew the answer. “You tell me to meet you here and now you don't want to tell me what Quentin was doing with Jett? It had to be something; you would've never called me to tell me that you saw them chatting at the counter at Starbucks.”

“You're right, but they weren't hugging or kissing or doing anything like that.”

“So, what is it? I'm sitting here imagining all kinds of things. What is it, Sheridan!”

The way she spoke to me, the way she made that demand, I wanted to tell her to back up and slow her roll. But really, I understood her distress.

“I saw them at that restaurant, Rendezvous.”

I wasn't sure if the name of the restaurant was going to be enough, or if I would have to tell her why it made a difference that that was the place where her fiancé was meeting his friend.

“Rendezvous.” Then she started chuckling. I mean, really giggling, like what I'd told her was something funny and cute.

She kept on laughing and I wondered if I was going to have to call 911.

Then, suddenly, her laughter stopped. She placed her hands over her mouth. But while I couldn't see her trembling lips anymore, all of her emotions were right there in front of my face. Tears poured from her eyes, her hands shook with such force that I knew she couldn't control it. “That's where Quentin took me. My first night in Los Angeles. Quentin took me to Rendezvous.”

“Oh, Harmony. I'm so sorry.”

She shook her head and reached into her purse, searching through the deep hobo bag. And Kendall's words came back to me . . .

The messenger always gets shot.

That thought made my heart pound, made me push back my chair. I was just about to duck under the table, but it was too late. Harmony's hand was already rising from her bag . . . with a tissue.

But that didn't stop my heart from beating against my chest like it was a steel drum. I kept my eyes on Harmony as she used the tissue to wipe away her tears.

“I'm really sorry, Harmony,” I said again. The sadness that hovered over her was so thick, it was like I could feel her pain, her heartbreak.

She nodded. “Well, I asked you, didn't I? And, even though this hurts, it's best that I know.”

I just nodded.

Then she stood. “I've got to get out of here.” She moved so quickly that I didn't have a chance to say another word. But then she stopped and from a few feet away said, “Thank you.”

I didn't really hear her. But, I read her still-trembling lips.

It wasn't until she ran through the door that I allowed my shoulders to drop, and I let air pass through my lungs once again.

From the moment I'd seen Quentin and Jett, somewhere deep inside of me, I knew that I was going to tell Harmony. And telling her was supposed to give me relief.

So, why did I feel worse now than I did before? Now I didn't just feel sorrow. I felt dread. And dread was always so much worse.