Song of Solomon (14 page)

“We don't live on this side of town,” was the only thing Shaylynn could think to say that wouldn't be offensive. Hoping to completely change the subject, she turned to Eloise. “Thanks for everything, Ms. Flowers. I'll be in touch very soon.”

“All right. I'll be here,” Eloise replied.

Shaylynn stepped out onto the porch.

“I'll walk you out,” Neil offered.

Shaylynn's words came quickly as she turned to face him. “No, it's not necessary. I can walk myself out.”

“You're not from the South, are you?” Eloise asked.

“No, no, I'm not.” Shaylynn wondered what that had to do with anything.

“I didn't think so,” Eloise surmised, easing onto the couch and offering no further explanation.

Shaylynn walked outside with Neil shadowing close behind. No words were spoken between them, and she wanted to keep it that way. “Chase, honey, come on. We have to go.” She hoped he heard her before he disappeared on the side of the house.

“Why are you in such a hurry?”

First taking a moment to slip on her sunglasses, Shaylynn looked up at Neil and replied, “I have work to do.”

He grunted a response, almost as though he didn't believe her.

“Some of us don't have the luxury of working a regular five-day, eight-hour schedule and having our weekends free, Dr. Taylor.”

“So, Shay Décor isn't closed on weekends?”

Shaylynn peered at him with a critical squint that her eye-wear hid. “Why do you insist on calling it that?”

“Because it is what it is. Shay Décor fits you, and it fits your business. That's why it rolled off your tongue so easily when you spoke to my mother.”

“Chase,” she called. Her decision had been made now. She hated this man. For a while she couldn't determine whether she liked him. Now she knew that she not only didn't like him, but she hated him. She hated his smart-alecky secretary too.

“Have dinner with me tonight.”

She'd disregarded Neil's first remark, but she couldn't ignore this one. Shaylynn froze in a stunned tableau, and then took a quick breath of utter astonishment. She was too startled by his suggestion to offer an immediate reply. When Shaylynn finally looked up, she found Neil looking down at her. Featherlike laugh lines crinkled around his eyes. He seemed to enjoy her struggle to capture her composure. Oh, how she hated him!

She finally found her voice. “What did you say?”

“You heard me.”

“Well, how 'bout I just pretend that I didn't.” Shaylynn turned away. “Chase!”

“What are you afraid of?”

“
Excuse
me?” Aggravated by what she determined to be an elevated ego, Shaylynn spun around to face him again, daring him to repeat himself. “Just because I don't want to go out with you doesn't mean that I'm afraid of you.”

“Then don't see it as you going out with me.” Neil shrugged in an almost boyish manner as he spoke. “Look at it like this: today is my birthday, and I'd like to cap off the celebration by treating myself to dinner . . . with you.”

Treat
himself to dinner with her. The notion replayed itself in Shaylynn's mind. Neil's words made it seem like he considered her keeping him company as a worthy gift. Shaylynn swallowed. In her lifetime, no man had ever put her through such an array of emotions in such a short span of time.

“I can't.” Her tone had softened, but not by much. “I have a son, Dr. Taylor. I can't.”

“Not a problem. Bring him with you.” Neil's tone was matter-of-fact. “He's welcome to be a part of it. It's only dinner, and it's not a school night. You can't tell me that he's not up late like that on weekends anyway. I won't believe you even if you do. Bring him along.” His tone had turned pleading.

At that moment, Chase and his friends reappeared from the side of the house, giggling and breathless from their fun.

“Chase, say good-bye to the children,” Shaylynn instructed. “We're leaving now.”

Obediently, Chase bid his playmates farewell, and then climbed in the backseat of their Chrysler and fastened his seatbelt, waving at Keisha and Tyrese the whole time. Shaylynn reached for her door handle, but Neil's hand arrived at the mark first. He didn't immediately open the door, and Shaylynn stood alongside him in silence.

“I'll be at Sambuca on Piedmont Road in the Buckhead district at ten o'clock tonight,” he said in a lowered voice. “I go there for my birthday dinner every year and enjoy the live jazz. If you choose to join me, it'll be my pleasure and my treat.”

Remaining unresponsive, Shaylynn allowed him to open her door, and she climbed in. She didn't even bother to thank him for his courtesy before he shut her inside. All that she could think was that she needed to get away from Eloise Flowers a.k.a. Ella Mae Taylor's son and back to the safety of her home as soon as possible. And if Dr. Neil Taylor thought for one minute that she and her son were going to be gallivanting with him in Buckhead tonight, he had another thought coming.

“So you're telling me that you have two dates with two different women on the same night? Do I need to be going before the throne of God on your behalf, bruh?”

The weightiness of CJ's tone added to the hilarity of his words. Neil unleashed a liberal laugh, but his lighthearted attitude wasn't shared by CJ.

“I'm serious, Neil. This isn't cool. This isn't cool at all.”

“CJ, aren't you the same man who, for at least the last five years, has been telling me that God had a virtuous woman set aside somewhere for me?”

“A virtuous
woman
, Neil. That's singular. Dating two women isn't even tactful, let alone honorable. And if either of them were aware that you were also going out with the other, I'm sure she wouldn't be the least bit amused by it. As a deacon and a scholar of God's Word, you have to know better than this.”

Neil switched his telephone from one ear to the other while he balanced himself to put on his slacks. He'd called CJ just after he'd dried himself after showering and now, pressed for time, he struggled to get dressed and talk to his pastor at the same time.

The bedroom where Neil slept each night was simple but neatly decorated. A small three-tier bookshelf stood in one corner, housing his many books, mostly nonfiction ministerial tools written by prominent preachers like T. D. Jakes, Joyce Evans, Tony Evans, Rod Parsley, and the like. His favorite was Rick Warren's
The Purpose Driven Life.
Reading was a pastime that Neil and CJ shared.

As the centerpiece of his room, Neil's bed was covered with linen in hues of browns and bronzes, his favorite colors. They added masculinity to the walls that were painted a soft green. Only one framed photo decorated his walls. It was a picture of him and Dwayne, one they took shortly after singing together at their mother's fifty-fifth birthday party, just two years before Dwayne died. That was nearly twenty years ago, but it felt like sooner.

“Are you listening to me, Neil?”

The demanding question recaptured Neil's full attention. “You're getting way too deep with this, CJ. You act like I'm playing the role of some kind of pious playboy. It's not that serious, and I never would have told you if I'd known you'd take it out of context. All you know is that I'm possibly meeting both ladies for dinner. You don't know the whole story, so you can't draw fair conclusions.”

“Okay, fine. I'm clearing my mind of all preconceived notions. You tell me the whole story.”

Neil didn't hesitate to dive in. “Yesterday, as we were wrapping up things in the office, Ms. Dasher invited me to her place for dinner. She said she wanted to treat me to a homemade meal to celebrate my birthday. There was no coaxing on my part. She invited, and I accepted.” Neil took a breath for the first time since he began his explanation. “Then I went to my mom's place this morning, and Shay showed up.”

“She just showed up unexpectedly?” There was considerable doubt in CJ's reply.

“As far as I was concerned, yes. I mean, the other day, I showed Ms. Ella Mae the ad in the
Atlanta Weekly Chronicles
that advertised Shay's business, and without letting on that I knew the owner of the business, I candidly recommended that she call. As you know, I have been trying to convince my mom to move from that house for years. It's not built to suit her recent health challenges. But since she has so many sentimental attachments and memories there, Ms. Ella Mae refuses to even consider living elsewhere. So, for the past few months, we've been talking about getting some updates done to the house. When I found out what kind of business Shay was in, and then saw her ad in the paper, I suggested that Ms. Ella Mae call. But she never told me that she'd taken my advice, and I certainly didn't know Shay would pop by the house. So yes, it was unexpected.”

“Okay. Go on.”

“Well, there's not much more to say. She stayed around and had birthday cake with me and my family, and when she got ready to leave, I invited her to dinner.”

“Knowing you already had a date with your office assistant.”

Neil huffed. “Man, aren't you the one who said I should ask her out?”

“Yeah, but not if you already had a date. Don't try to pin your bad decision on me, Neil. This pickle that you're in has nothing to do with anything that I said.”

Until CJ described it as such, Neil had never viewed his situation as a “pickle.” In fact, he'd been pretty keyed up about his birthday plans. Now his excitement was fully deflated. Neil tried to minimize his mounting guilt. “It's just a couple of birthday dinners, CJ.”

“It's not just a couple of birthday dinners, Neil. It's a couple of birthday dinners with two women that you actually have some level of affection for. You've had a thing for Sister Dasher for years, and although you're fighting me tooth and nail on the intensity of your attraction to the former Mrs. Emmett Ford, I know the real deal.”

“Let's get it straight. I don't have a
thing
, for Ms. Dasher, CJ.” Neil sat at the foot of his bed, still having only slipped one leg into his pants. “I just think she's kinda fine for a lady her age, and there ain't no sighted man who could honestly disagree with me on that. But it's not like I want a relationship with her. She looks good for her age, but her age is still her age. Ms. Dasher is too old for me.”

“And let me guess,” CJ said. “You're going to say that Shay is too young, right?”

Neil was going to say no such thing, but voicing that fact would just open a whole new conversation that he didn't want to venture into. Because of that, he remained quiet and listened as CJ continued.

“Sister Dasher's too old, and Shay's too young. So your excuse for why it's okay for you to be entertaining both these women tonight is that their ages make it right. Is that what you're trying to tell me?”

“CJ—”

“Listen, Neil. The Bible tells us to shun the very appearance of evil. So for the sake of argument, let's just say that your motives are completely pure. Does it really seem like nothing is wrong with you going out with both these women on the same night? If it were Sister Dasher's birthday and you invited her to your house for a nice, intimate dinner that you took the time to prepare, would you be okay if she accepted, but then also made plans to meet another brother at some upscale restaurant a couple of hours later?”

Neil paused and thought about the scenario he'd just been given. After brief consideration, he shrugged. “Actually, yeah. Whether you believe it or not, I can honestly say that I would be cool with that. I mean, Ms. Dasher's a grown woman, and besides, it's not like I'm in—”

“What if Shay did it?”

CJ's new supposition served as a sharp knife, cutting into Neil's comeback and seemingly, into a nerve as well. He felt a blunt soreness in the pit of his stomach, like someone had jabbed him there. Not enough to crumple him to the floor, writhing in pain, but enough for him to squirm and touch the spot where the pain had hit. Neil pacified himself by defining it as just another after effect of his morning workout. The tenderness in his calves was still there, so this new ache must have lingered from the fitness challenge too.

Continuing his quest for answers, CJ expanded his query. “Think about it, Neil. For added visual, let's just say today is Shay's birthday, and she's getting dressed right now to go and meet some other dude at his place for dinner. And mind you, this is not just your run-of-the-mill guy, either. This man is attractive, available, and somebody that she's very fond of. But guess what? After she spends some time with him, she's going to head to her favorite eatery to share her leftover time with you. Are you telling me you're cool with that too?”

“You're making it sound like I'm some kind of dog or something, man.”

“You didn't answer my question.”

“You're making me sorry I even called you,” Neil barked. His avoidance of the issue was blatant. “I thought you'd be happy just to know I was getting out of the house and spending quality time with somebody. Now you're making me want to call everything off.”

“Bruh, you know that all I want is the best that God has for you. I just think you're going about this the wrong way. I know Sister Dasher, so I know she's a good, decent woman who loves the Lord with her whole heart. She wouldn't exactly be the person I would have lined up for you, but then again, I'm not God. Truth be told, she'd probably be very good to and for you. You've known her for a while, you have good chemistry, you work well together, you're both saved, active members of the same church.... What else do you need?”

Neil quietly rolled his eyes to the ceiling. Why did CJ always have to make everything sound so permanent? It was just a dinner, for crying out loud.

“And this Shay Ford . . . well, I don't know her, but by all that I've heard, I'm inclined to believe that she's not only beautiful on the outside, but also on the inside. My instinct tells me that she's both goodly and godly. She clearly has some issues where her late husband is concerned, but it's nothing that God can't mend if she's the woman that He has prepared for you. Don't get me wrong, Neil. I'm not saying that your attraction to either one of these women is wrong; I'm just saying that I don't agree with the way you're handling your business tonight. I've always prayed that God would change your mulish, not-needing-a-woman mindset, but it's like you've gone from one extreme to another overnight.”

In frustration, Neil kicked to free the one leg that he had gotten into the pants. Maybe all this was just a part of his midlife crisis too. Whatever the case, his friend had messed up everything. The second half of his birthday was ruined, and Neil wasn't even looking forward to it anymore. “Goodness, CJ, you're acting as though I'm sleeping with these women. I'm not.”

“You don't have to be sleeping with a woman to violate her, Neil.”

“Violate?” That was way too strong a word as far as Neil was concerned, and his raised octave reflected that.

“I wouldn't be your friend or your spiritual leader if I didn't tell you the truth, bruh. There's nothing right, neither morally or spiritually, about you spending time with both these women tonight. Especially since they are unaware of your double plans. Shouldn't they at least have a choice in the matter of whether they each want to
share
intimate time with the same man on the same night?”

“Intimate? It's not all that intimate, CJ. I mean, yeah, Ms. Dasher asked me over, but she didn't give any indication that the dinner would be romantic. She could have easily been just being nice to me when she extended the invitation. Did you ever consider that? And Shay . . . well, I'll be surprised if she even shows up. I invited her, but she didn't exactly accept the invitation. As a matter of fact, she all but turned it down.”

“This isn't about the ladies' intentions, Neil; it's about yours. Whether Sister Dasher is planning a romantic evening for the two of you or not, if you're honest, you'll admit that that's what you believe it is, and you're going along with it, maybe even with a little bit of hope that your suspicions are on point. Am I right?”

Silence.

“And whether or not Shay shows up is definitely up in the air. But just in case she does, you have every intention of being at that restaurant at the time that you asked her to meet you there, with the hopes of at least cracking the shell of her inhibitions. Stop me when I'm wrong.”

Silence reigned once more, and after a short while and the release of a deep, laborious breath, Neil said, “Church folks make me sick. You know I've never liked you, right?”

CJ expressed a soft display of amusement and then replied, “I know. I love you too, man. I wish I could stay on the phone and talk more, but Resa needs to return a call to her mother before it gets too late, and I need to get some studying done in preparation for tomorrow's sermon. I know your mind is made up, but I hope that I've at least given you something to think about. Don't stay out so late tonight that you can't get up to give God His time tomorrow.”

Neil hung up the phone, and minutes ticked away on the clock as he sat in silence with his shoulders slumped. This hadn't at all turned out the way he had planned, and to add to his misery, all of a sudden he didn't feel so well. His eyes roamed to the face of the watch on his wrist. It was a few minutes after six o'clock, and he had less than an hour to get dressed and get to Margaret's house. The drive alone would take thirty. Neil could almost smell the appetizing aromas that were floating from her kitchen right now, but instead of tempting him, they made him feel nauseated.

“I knew I shouldn't have had that sixth slice of cake,” he grumbled as he eased his back against the mattress and stared at the light fixture above his head. Minutes later, another pain hit, like the one he'd experienced during his conversation with CJ. Neil moaned and turned over to his side, trying to find comfort. But instead of relief, another pain and then another assaulted his abdomen. Just moments afterward, he was clutching his stomach and swallowing back a sudden onset of uncontrolled saliva.

“Ughhhhhh.”

Jolting into an upright position, Neil raced to the master bathroom and barely made it over the commode before his body began purging itself. He clutched the sides of the commode and felt the beads of perspiration surface on his forehead and grow bigger until they began rolling down his face. He didn't have the will or the coordination to wipe away the blinding moisture.

“Jesus,” he called between fits of vomiting that seemed endless. When the excruciating pains in his stomach finally subsided, Neil felt depleted of all energy. “Is this my punishment or something? Dang. I haven't had a decent date in months, now when I finally get one . . . okay, two . . .” He looked up to the ceiling. “Can't you cut a brotha just a little slack?”