Man Enough For Me (27 page)

“Hey, Soroya, did you guys call anybody else when you got to the hospital, just to let them know where you were?”

Jules heard the faucet stop running for a moment.

“No.”

Then the swishing from the faucet started again.

“I’m sure there are people who would be concerned about your mom’s being in the hospital.”

The faucet went off again. And Jules heard silence.

“You mean how come there was no one else for me to stay with,” Soroya said knowingly from the kitchen entranceway.

Jules stopped slicing and looked around at the girl. She should have guessed that Soroya would be smart enough to figure out what she was really asking.

“My momma doesn’t want anyone to know my dad beats her,” Soroya said in answer to Jules’s unasked question. “They probably wouldn’t believe her anyway.”

Soroya turned and left the kitchen, and after a few moments Jules heard the water running again. She sighed and turned back to the breakfast, understanding completely why Soroya acted like she was twenty instead of ten.

After eating quickly, Jules and Soroya left for the hospital. All the maturity Soroya had displayed that morning seemed to disappear the closer they got to Toronto Grace. By the time they got to the hospital she had morphed into the anxious little girl from the night before.

As they approached the sliding hospital doors, she slipped her hand into Jules’s and stayed close to her while they walked down the corridors toward her mother’s room.

They were just in time to see Soroya’s mother begin to stir awake.

“Momma!” Soroya exclaimed, forgetting about Jules and rushing to her mother’s side.

She climbed gingerly onto the side of the bed as her mother wrapped her arms around her. Feeling as if she was intruding on a private moment, Jules looked away. Her eyes fell on Germaine, who was watching her from a chair pulled up to the other side of his mother’s bed.

His eyes were bloodshot, and his clothes rumpled from sleeping in the chair. There was slight stubble on his jaw from not having shaved in a few days, and somehow his low cut hair
managed to look unkempt. She could tell that he was tired. He tried to sit up, but even that seemed to require a huge amount of effort for him. The truth was he looked horrible. Jules couldn’t tear her eyes away.

He seemed to be having a similar problem.

They were so lost in each other that neither Jules nor Germaine noticed Germaine’s mother looking back and forth between the two of them curiously.

“Well, Germaine, are you gonna sit there eyeballin’ this girl all morning, or are you gonna introduce her to your momma?”

Germaine looked across at his mother as if suddenly remembering she was there. From the look that she gave him in return, Jules knew that any introduction would be merely a formality.

“Oh, uh, Mom, this is Jules; Jules, this is my mother, Joan Bailey,” he said distractedly. Jules noticed that his eyes never seemed to leave her for more than a few seconds. Feeling very self-conscious, she turned to his mother.

“Hi, Mrs. Bailey,” she said nervously.

She had always wanted to meet the mother of the man who seemed to have embedded himself in her heart. She would have preferred, however, that it had been under different circumstances.

Joan Bailey narrowed her eyes at Jules. “You the one that’s been looking after my daughter all night?”

“Yes, ma’am, that would be me,” Jules said quietly.

Joan stared at Jules a moment longer before her gaze softened.

“Thank you,” she said quietly. “My daughter doesn’t really take to people too quickly, so you must be okay if she let you take care of her.”

Jules let out a breath she didn’t know she had been holding. For some reason the approval of Germaine’s mother had meant a lot to her. She didn’t know why, since she was no longer with him, and probably never would be again.

“She’s Truuth’s friend,” Soroya said, from her spot tucked away in her mother’s arm. “She’s all right.”

Seeing her mother awake and strong seemed to boost Soroya’s energy, and she was soon chatting away, until both she and her mother seemed to forget anyone else was in the room. Jules smiled and shook her head. Watching Soroya bounce between moods was enough to make anyone’s head spin.

She felt Germaine’s eyes on her again, and sure enough when she looked up she found him watching her from across the room. Jules shivered when she noticed that he wasn’t even trying to hide the fact that he was staring.

“Did she give you any trouble?” he asked after a moment.

Jules shook her head. “Not at all. She was a dream.”

Germaine raised an eyebrow skeptically, and Jules couldn’t help but chuckle.

“I’m serious,” Jules said. “She slept all night, and helped me out a bit this morning.”

He looked relieved. Jules ached to put her arms around him and make everything else he was worrying about go away. Instead she offered him the small bag she had carried with her from the car.

“What’s this?” he asked, taking peeking inside at the small glass container.

“It’s breakfast,” Jules said.

All of a sudden she felt nervous.

“I figured that you maybe hadn’t eaten yet, and so when I made breakfast for Soroya and me, I thought I would bring you some. You don’t have to have it if you don’t want to. If you already ate it’s okay, I just thought I would …”

Jules noticed the small smile playing at the corners of Germaine’s lips, and she forced herself to stop babbling.

“There’s a fork in the bag too,” she said, taking a deep breath to calm her nerves.

Come on, Jules, it’s just Germaine. Get a grip.

“Thanks, Jules, but I gotta make sure my mom gets something first,” Germaine said.

“Boy, I ate breakfast this morning while you were over there
sleeping,” Joan said dismissively. “Quit hovering over me, and go eat something. Get some air, both of you, and let me spend some time alone with my daughter.”

Germaine was about to protest, but his mother sent him a warning look that got him out of his chair and halfway to the door without her saying another word.

“Okay, okay, I’m going,” he said anxiously. Jules bit back a smile as she followed him out of the room.

They walked in silence through the hallway and out a side exit of the hospital into an open courtyard set up with elegantly chiselled stone benches and tables for hospital patients and visitors.

As they sat down at a table near the grass, Jules leaned back on her hands and breathed in deeply the crisp mid-morning air. It was the middle of October, but they were having one of those unseasonably warm fall days, characteristic of Toronto’s unpredictable weather. It was a perfect day to be outside, and Jules couldn’t think of anyone else she’d rather be out there with.

“I can’t believe I’ve worked at this hospital for almost four years, and I’ve never sat out here,” Jules said, looking around the courtyard.

“That’s ‘cause you’re always too busy,” Germaine said between bites. Jules mentally commended herself for packing a large helping.

“You sound like my mother.”

“How are things between you two?” he asked, just before taking another bite out of the giant omelette Jules had brought him.

“Good,” Jules said thoughtfully. “I finally got up the nerve to talk to her.”

She bit her bottom lip, resisting the urge to spill her guts to him.

“Tell me about it.”

She looked up at him suddenly. She should have known he would read her mind.

Before she could stop herself, she was telling him everything, from the big fight she’d had with Momma Jackson to the long talk they’d had just hours ago.

“You know, if it wasn’t for your words banging around in my head, I never would have talked to her,” Jules said.

“Well, I’m glad I could be of some use to you,” Germaine said, smirking, as he rested his forearms on the table and looked over at her. “And by the way, thank you. With Truuth gone, I didn’t expect anyone to show up last night.”

“Yeah, well, you know me,” Jules said. “Always trying to fix something.”

Germaine smiled. “Believe it or not, I actually miss that.”

Jules looked down at her jeans and began to scratch her nail against the coarse material.

“I miss you too,” he added quietly.

She drew in a sharp breath and looked across to the other side of the courtyard.

A slight breeze was rustling the leaves of the crab apple trees that lined the hospital’s east side. The sun was almost directly overhead, and its rays were peeking through the leaves, forming little pools of sunlight on the ground.

“Jules?”

She felt Germaine take her hand. She didn’t resist when he pulled her closer or when he gently turned her face toward him.

“Look at me, Jules.”

Obediently, she lifted her eyes to his. They were glowing for her. And she was falling for him. Just like she always did.

“Germaine!” Out of nowhere, long, slim coffee brown arms engulfed Germaine, knocking him slightly off balance. “I’ve been looking all over the hospital for you! What are you doing out here?”

“Hi to you too, Maxine,” Germaine said, laughing at her enthusiasm.

Jules saw him sneak a glance over at her, but she had already slid away and started gathering her things together.

She saw the look in his eyes. She knew that look. But it didn’t matter. It didn’t change the fact that they both wanted things that the other wasn’t prepared to give. And it couldn’t put their broken relationship back together again. In fact, all it had done was remind Jules of how much she had lost.

A sudden wave of exhaustion washed over Jules. Between seeing her mother and being with Germaine, the day had left her feeling drained. She just wanted to go home and spend the weekend curled up under her soft feather duvet.

She looked across at Maxine, who was fussing over Germaine, and showering him with questions about whether or not he had eaten, or taken a shower, or gotten some sleep. Jules could tell that she was genuinely concerned for him.

Since he had come back into Truuth’s life, Maxine had adopted Germaine as her family, just like she had Truuth. That was what you had to love about Maxine—even though she was a tiny thing, her heart was huge.

Jules watched the two of them like a stranger watching a family through their living room window. She heard Maxine tell Germaine that Truuth was inside with Germaine’s mother and that she had gone looking for Germaine in order to give Truuth some time alone with his aunt.

Germaine tried to tell Maxine that she didn’t have to fuss over him, but Jules could tell that he enjoyed being taken care of. She was glad that there was someone there taking care of him, though she wished it was her. She tried hard to push back the feelings of jealousy that were stabbing at her heart.

“You’re leaving?” Germaine asked suddenly, as he saw Jules walk away.

“Yeah,” Jules said, forcing a smile. “Your family is here now, so …”

So you don’t need me anymore.

“Tell your mom and sister I said bye,” Jules said, barely turning around. She didn’t think she could look him in the eye without breaking.

“Thanks for being here, Jules,” Maxine said.

Jules tried to fight her annoyance. Suddenly Maxine’s selfassumed role of family spokesperson was getting on her nerves.

“I’ll see you guys later.”

With her bags and her broken heart in her hands, Jules walked briskly out of the courtyard, into the hospital, and through the corridors toward the parking lot.

This time, she didn’t bother to look back.

“S
o I’ve been thinking about that thing you said a while back.”

“What thing?” Jules asked, her eyes half-closed. It was Saturday afternoon after church, and both she and Easy were sitting on Sis Crawford’s porch, lazily watching the wind rustle the begonias in the backyard. Jules had spent the entire day with Easy, trying to forget the crazy day she’d had with Germaine and his family only a few hours before. So far it had been working.

They had just stuffed themselves with a lunch of pumpkin rice, chicken stewed in okra, potato salad, and corn bread, and now they could barely move. The cool afternoon breeze signaled that they were well into fall, but it was not chilly enough to keep them inside.

Jules yawned. She knew she should probably have been getting ready to go back to church for the evening’s youth service, but the caress of sleep was too tempting to resist. She could barely will her brain to focus on what Easy was saying, much more prepare to leave.

“The God thing.”

Jules opened one eye and peered over at Easy, who was still reclined in his own chair, his eyes closed as if he was asleep.

“You’re gonna have to be a bit more specific,” Jules said.

Over the past couple months, she and Easy had had multiple conversations about “the God thing.” They would start randomly, like this one, with questions like, “Why would God bother with someone like me?” or “How can I know that God was really listening?” before escalating into a long discussion.

When Easy brought up the subject of God, there was no telling where it would go. But Jules was happy that he seemed to be bringing it up more and more often.

“You were saying something about God working things out for those that follow Him,” Easy continued thoughtfully, with his eyes still closed, and his feet still resting casually on the porch railing.

“Uh-huh,” Jules answered cautiously. She knew there would be a question coming soon.

“Does that mean then that God only takes care of Christians?”

Jules smirked. She knew a lot of Christians, including herself, who wondered on occasion if God was taking care of them at all.

“No, it doesn’t mean that,” Jules answered. “The Bible says that He makes the sun to rise on both the good and the evil, meaning that He sends His blessings on everyone. God doesn’t discriminate with the good tidings.”

“So what’s the difference between being a Christian and not being a Christian then?”

“It’s the difference between chocolate cake and mud pie.”

“Huh?”

“Let me explain,” she said, sitting up in her chair and turning to face her friend, who was looking at her curiously.