Getting to Happy (40 page)

“Well, she’s been helping Luther do a little distributing of his goods and she’s been fired by the IRS and is being investigated for purportedly creating her own little repayment plans on the side.”

“You mean she’s been doing that under-the-table kind of stuff?”

“Yes, indeed, which explains her so-called raises. This is a federal offense, Ma. I couldn’t help her out of this even if I wanted to.”

“I’m so sorry, Tarik. I really, truly am sorry. About all of it. Are you okay?”

“I’m fine. Me and my kids will be fine. Most likely Brass is going to be staying with us, too. I can’t leave him over there with that lowlife he thinks is his father when he’s not his biological.”

“You mean to tell me you’ve known all this time?”

“Of course I did. But since Luther claimed him, I went along with it. Until he got ugly. Brass is
my
son.”

“I hope this all works out for the best. Tarik. Baby. I have to go for now. Someone’s waiting for me. I’ll see you in a couple of hours. Don’t rush.” After she hung up, Gloria shook her head. “Lord have mercy on us all.”

She walked out to the woman sitting on the sofa. “Hello, I’m Gloria. And what’s your name?”

“I’m Marlene. Dottie’s baby sister.”

“Nice to meet you,” Gloria said. “I knew you reminded me of somebody. I just couldn’t put my finger on it. Can I offer you something cool to drink?”

“That would be nice.”

“I’ll get it,” Twyla said. “Is bottled water okay?”

Marlene nodded.

Blaze came running out and stood next to Gloria. “Excuse me, Gawa. Diamond is getting her toes done first. I’m next. Hello,” she said to Marlene.

“Hello, baby.”

“Why are you crying?”

“Oh, sometimes things make you sad.”

“I know. I get sad, too. What made you sad?”

“Well, my sister just died.”

“You mean Dottie is dead?” Gloria asked to be sure.

“Who shot her?” Blaze asked.

“Nobody, baby. She died in her sleep. She’s in Heaven now.”

“So is Grandpa Marvin. Maybe she could tell him hello for me and Diamond and Stone and Brass.”

“I’m sure she will.”

“I am so sorry to hear this, Marlene. I just saw Dottie not that long ago.”

“I know. She was so happy to see you. She talked about how good you looked and how you wanted to start a whole new chapter of Black Women on the Move with those other friends of yours she always thought so highly of.”

“Really?” Gloria felt terrible. She had called Dottie that awful
B
word. Never again would it slip and pass her lips.

“She’d been telling me to get rid of this wig and come over here to Oasis and you would fix me right up. I know I should’ve called to make an appointment but I’m not thinking straight. Me and my sister have lived together for the last thirty-one years. Now she’s gone.”

Gloria rubbed her arm to let her know it was okay. “Why don’t you let me get you a smock and you come on back here to the sink. I’ll give you a long shampoo and massage your scalp and give you a deep conditioner and a hot oil treatment. Then maybe a good cut and a nice new style. Would you like that?”

“I’ll take whatever you want to give me, sugar,” Marlene said as she leaned her head back and closed her eyes. Gloria turned the water on and tested it to make sure it wasn’t too hot. “Thank you,” Marlene said. And squeezed Gloria’s hand.

Blind Date

Brunch is what we agreed to. At one of my favorite resort hotels. It’s on a cliff and overlooks the entire valley of Phoenix. Today is so clear I can actually see it. I’m driving up the side of this mountain like a tourist. I feel great. In fact, I would go so far as to say I’m stoked. None of which has anything to do with Jasper. I leave for Paris in three days. I’ve already packed about ten books. They’re too heavy. Some probably won’t make this trip. I can’t even sleep in my bed because it’s covered with clothes. I don’t care. I can’t decide what to take. I want to make sure everything I wear projects what I’m feeling and makes a statement about who I am when I walk down those Parisian streets.

I valet park. I’m tempted to check my makeup and hair in the ladies’ room, but convince myself I haven’t changed since I left home twenty minutes ago. I’m wearing something forgettable. A peach top. Cantaloupe pants. Gauze. Layered to camouflage my stomach and my behind. I don’t want Jasper to get any ideas I’m trying to lure him. I’m also starving, as I forgot to eat breakfast. I was too busy trying on shoes. Most for comfort, a few with heels. I have every intention of doing in Paris what I hardly ever do in Phoenix. Dance. Hear live music. Walk. Read a whole book. Eat out alone. And be still.

I’m also relieved. Bernie’s on her way to Palm Springs. She sent the three of us an e-mail at six o’clock this morning, said we probably wouldn’t hear from her for the next twenty-eight days and not to worry. John was driving her. How about that? I used to hate him almost as much as I did James. Unlike James, John has redeemed himself. We’re all praying Bernie’s able to break free from those pills and that the time she spends at that place is what she needs to jump-start her way back.

And then there’s Miss Robin. Word on the street is she ran into a blast from the past and has been tweeting ever since. “We have a connection,” she wrote in the subject line of an e-mail I was all set to delete because I thought it was another of her stupid jokes. However, my instincts told me to open it. “Michael is the same kind, sweet, thoughtful man he always was. There have been quite a few major improvements in other areas, if you get my drift. I like him. A lot. I particularly like what he stands for. He’s been making me laugh, which is pretty hard to do, considering my employment status. He also suggested I not rush to look for another job. That I give myself more credit. You guys have pretty much been telling me the same thing. I’m getting there. Sparrow likes him, too. So do Romeo and Juliet, which is always a good sign. They can smell a scumbag. Michael remembers you guys and hopes we can all have dinner one day soon. And guess what? He still dances! I think I might want to keep him. He makes me feel good inside. At our age, it doesn’t take a long courtship to know if your key fits. And Savannah, please don’t snicker or lecture me this time. Be happy for me.” I responded with three smiley faces and one of those pumping red hearts.

I suppose I should be nervous, but I’m not. If I were secretly praying Jasper might be husband number two, maybe I would be. I don’t care if I ever get married again. That much I do know. I just want to get this over with so I can get home and pack a little more. I haven’t even considered jewelry. I already have an exit strategy. If he turns out to be a creepy crawler or acts like a nerdy white guy because he’s a surgeon, I’ll be respectful and figure out a nice way to wade through the forty-five minutes to an hour I’ve set aside before thanking him for a lovely meal and yes, maybe we could get together again sometime. In case he turns out to be a nice guy, maybe I’ll make a new friend. I don’t have many of those of the male variety. I hope his teeth are straight. And white. If not, they could turn into my focal point which would make it difficult not to stare. Doctors and dentists are notorious for having jacked-up teeth. Why is that? I always wondered.

I don’t see him anywhere inside. I do, however, see the back of a black man in a pink polo shirt taking a sip from a glass of something. He’s outside on the terrace. “Hello, Jasper,” I say and hold out my hand. He stands up, shakes my hand like he hasn’t seen me in years.

“Nice to finally meet you, Savannah. For a minute there, I thought I might be getting stood up.”

“That would be rude, Jasper. I was raised better.”

“Well, hats off to your parents for good home training. Do you mind sitting out here? Can’t beat this view, can we?”

“I was thinking about that on the drive up here. This is fine.”

I’m surprised Jasper is more handsome in person than he is in his picture. Which is clearly dated. His hair is still black and kinky but there’s a whole new family of gray making a home along his temples. I find it grossly unfair that God rigged this whole thing so men seem to get better-looking as they get older and women simply age out. Why is it that their wrinkles make them sexy and more distinguished while ours make us look old and unattractive?

”Have you ever eaten here?” he asks.

“Yes, but it’s been a while.” I didn’t want to say what I was thinking: that it was with the son-of-a-bitch I was married to even though he was lovable back then. I remind myself to smile. I don’t want to come across as if I’m just going through the motions. At the same time, I’m not interested in trying to get below the surface with this man. I don’t care how good he looks.

“What are you in the mood for?” he asks.

“They used to make the absolute best Caesar salad.”

“That sounds good,” he says. “I’ll have the same. How about a glass of wine?”

“It’s a little early for me. A glass of sparkling water with lime would be nice.”

He flags a waiter. “So, Savannah. Have you ever been on a blind date?”

“No, I haven’t. What about you?”

“Once.”

“Was it weird?”

“Well, that’s a matter of opinion. I married her.”

“So it worked out pretty well.”

“For about fourteen years it was fine.”

He orders our salads and a large bottle of Pellegrino with lime on the side. So far, he seems pleasant enough. I still wonder if he’s as normal as he appears to be. He probably has a dark side. You never see it at first. They always put their best foot forward out of the starting gate. Anything to get an A when the date is over. I’ve fallen for this tactic once too often. He’s probably sizing me up, too, looking for my obvious flaws, or, like me, waiting for me to say the one stupid thing that will turn him off so he’ll have to figure out how to tell Thora and Bert why he’s not going to make that follow-up phone call.

“Thora told me you have two sons.”

“Yep. Both in college. Maxwell’s a freshman at NYU and Kenan’s a sophomore at Boston U.”

“That’s where I went for undergrad!”

“You know, I do remember Thora mentioning that. Who knows, this could be a link we’ll share forever. Wait. Don’t take that the wrong way. I’m trying to loosen up. And failing.”

“Why are you nervous?”

“Because I’m a little rusty.”

“I haven’t been on a date in twelve years. How’s that for rusty?”

“May I make a suggestion, then?” he asks.

“Sure.”

“How about we not think of this as a real date. This way we can get rid of all those superficial expectations and just relax.”

“That gets me out of the hot seat.”

“That makes two of us. We could think of this as the beginning of a budding friendship.”

“First I need to decide if I want to be your friend, Jasper, or if I want you to be mine.”

“I hear you. Then let’s see what we can learn about each other today and take it from there. How does that grab you?”

“As long as you don’t get too personal.”

He rakes his bottom lip with his teeth and then tilts his head to the side as if I wasn’t listening to what he just said. I think he’s flirting with me! He may not realize he’s doing it, but he is. I forgot how this works. I’m too old to blush and yet my face is heating up. Maybe I’m reading more into this than I should. “So what made you want to practice medicine, Jasper?”

“Honestly?”

“Honestly.”

“It might sound strange, but I always found science and biology fascinating. It helped me discover how our bodies work, how everything is connected and how—because of science and technology—some things can be fixed. I wanted to be a human mechanic, so to speak.”

“And here I’m trying to learn how to change my oil.”

He cracks up. His teeth are as straight as dentures. And wedding-dress white. I bet he uses those strips. He must have had braces when he was a teenager. His voice is raspy. It suits him. I’m not giving him points for being attractive, because he can’t help it. Isaac had the same kind of magnetism.

“Technically, I’m a retired orthopedic surgeon although I travel all over the world, mostly to third world countries with a group of volunteer doctors. We treat people who’re victims of disasters, various deformities, all of whom have no access to medical treatment. I work on children, mostly. But I teach at the Mayo Clinic here in Phoenix.”

“That’s really wonderful, Jasper.”

“Okay,” he says, leaning forward, and he looks me dead in the eye. “Ask me anything you want.”

“First, I have to be honest.”

“Okay.”

“When I told my girlfriends I was going on a blind date, one of them told me about a website that had about two hundred date questions. I wasn’t sure what I wanted to know about you, if anything, so I picked about twenty or thirty of them, in case you turned out to be boring and we had nothing to talk about.”

“Am I boring?”

“So far you’re not.”

“Neither are you. So, go ahead. Ask me anything.”

The waitress brings our salads and pours us a glass of water. We squeeze our limes at the same time. “I only remember a few of them and it feels a little silly to me now.”

“Come on. This might be fun.”

“Okay, but don’t answer them if you don’t want to.”

He looks excited.

“What’s the last book you read?”

“Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix.”

“No shit? Whoops, sorry. I didn’t mean to swear.”

“No shit, and I did. What about you?”

“Brief Interviews with Hideous Men.”

“I hope it’s fiction.”

“It is,” I say. “What’s the most beautiful place you’ve ever seen?”

It looks like he’s mentally traveling through a scrapbook. “Too many to pick just one,” he says. “But. Fiji and Kenya. That’s two, so fire me.”

At least he has a sense of humor and he’s not a nerd or a fuddyduddy. I still sneak an occasional peek at my watch. I know how charm works. It’s right up there with sex appeal. I’m wearing an invisible repellent to keep them away from me. For now.

“How do you measure success, Jasper?”

“Doing what you love even if the pay isn’t good. And you?”