The List (22 page)

W
ith all that had been going on at work, it had been weeks since I had spent any quality time with my girls. I basically worked all day and fell into bed every night. I saw them at church on Sundays, but had to leave right after to either write, edit with Jason, or catch up on some sleep.

We decided to go out to dinner after church on Sunday. I was still a little sleepy from my late-night taping on Friday and then being up all night thinking about my date on Saturday, but I missed them and needed some girl time. And I couldn't wait to tell them about Isaiah.

Me, Lisa, Vanessa, and Nicole sat around a table at Houston's in Buckhead. Angela had been missing in action from church for about two months. Lisa had been calling her almost daily. At first, she answered and didn't talk much, but lately, she hadn't answered at all. We were all worried but didn't know what to do.

Lisa, Vanessa, and Nicole watched me intently as I told them about Isaiah, from his first audition up to our date the day before. I wondered if I was glowing like Angela used to.

I stopped talking for a minute when the waitress brought over our meals. “I think he's rich, or at least, very well-off. Now, you guys know me. I'm not a gold digger, but dang—it helps, you know?”

Nicole held up a hand to interrupt me for a second and bowed her head to bless the food. We all prayed for a few seconds, then I launched right back into my Isaiah story.

“I hope I don't sound materialistic, but it would be wonderful to be financially secure. Completely different from being with my ex, where I was responsible for everything. It would be cool not to have to work so hard. Maybe take a break from work and create some pilots for my show ideas.”

“Wait a minute, girl. You just met the man, and you're already married, and quitting your job? Slow it down.” Vanessa cut off a large piece of her steak and took a bite.

“I'm not talking about marrying him. The thought crosses your mind when you're getting to know someone. You look at everything about them to see if they match what's on your list. He's definitely godly. Definitely financially well-off. You should see his house. It's fabulous—out there in Sandstone Estates in Lithonia. And he drives a Hummer. Like I said, you guys know me and I'm not materialistic, but it's nice to have nice things. And he's talented and shares my love for music and the arts. He's sweet and affectionate. And he gets me. He can read me like a book—like God gave him the key to my heart. What more could I ask?”

“A lot more. A bunch of questions for sure.” Nicole poured a huge dollop of ketchup on her fries. “Number one, how does he afford his house and car as a musician? I've never heard of him before, so he can't be that big.”

“I don't know.” I grabbed a fry off her plate. “I didn't ask him for a breakdown of his financials. It was a first date.”

“Girl, something ain't right. You sure he ain't selling drugs or something?” Nicole swatted my hand away when I tried to reach for another French fry.

Lisa was distracted, barely participating in the conversation.

“Lisa, are you with us? What's wrong?” I asked.

“I'm worried about Angie. This is the seventh Sunday in a row she's missed church. Something must be really wrong.”

“I think we all know what's wrong.” Vanessa scooped the butter out of her baked potato and pushed it to the side of her plate. “She'll be okay. When she forgives herself, she'll be back. Just keep praying for her.”

“Yeah, but what if something is really wrong? Don't you think we need to check on her?”

“You said you've been calling and she won't answer the phone, right? What else can we do?” I looked at my salad, then at Nicole's huge burger and fries. She made a face that said don't even think about it.

“We should show up at her house. She might be mad at us, but we'll have to take that chance.” Lisa looked at her watch. “We should go when we leave here. Even if she went to Augusta this weekend, she'd be back by now to get ready for work tomorrow.” Lisa looked around the table at us. “You guys with me?”

We all looked at each other and nodded. She rushed us through the rest of our meal, and we were on our way.

 

Lisa rang the doorbell while the rest of us stood hiding by the garage. We figured Angela might be more likely to answer if she only saw one person standing there. We'd come out after she opened the door.

Lisa cupped her hands around her eyes and peered through one of the small windows framing the door. She called out to us, “The television is on, and I can see Bishop Jakes preaching. I think I see her head on the couch. She's either 'sleep or ignoring me.” She rang the doorbell again and again and stood there waiting.

After a few minutes, she banged on the door and yelled, “Angie, if you don't let me in, I'm going to make a scene, and all your neighbors are gonna be out here wondering what's going on.”

A few seconds later, Lisa banged on the door some more, screaming, “Open the door. I'm not going anywhere.” Her voice escalated until I was sure someone would call the police.

Finally, the door opened, and Angie stepped out in a bathrobe. “Have you lost your mind? What is your problem, making all that noise out here?” She looked from left to right, I guess, to see if any of her neighbors had noticed. She finally stood with her hands on her hips in front of Lisa. “You couldn't call first? What's your problem?”

Lisa's mouth fell open. “I've been calling you for weeks. You won't answer your phone. What's
your
problem?” They stood facing each other off for a few minutes.

Then Angie's shoulders slumped and started shaking. Lisa pulled her into her arms and held her while she sobbed. Me, Vanessa, and Nicole came out of our hiding place and joined Lisa with a group hug.

Angela pulled back for a second when she felt the other arms around her. As she looked into each of our faces, she cried harder.

We ushered her into the house. It was a wreck. Angela was normally borderline obsessive-compulsive about keeping her house clean.

Lisa and Vanessa pushed blankets and crumpled tissues off the couch and sat down with Angela between them. Me and Nicole moved books off the loveseat and sat down across from them. It looked like Angela had pulled every spiritual self-help book off her shelf.

Vanessa spoke first, “Sorry for showing up unannounced, but we were worried about you. We hadn't seen or heard much from you since that last time at Lisa's house.” She cradled a sobbing Angela in her arms and rocked her. “Sweetie, you know we love you. Whatever is going on, we're here for you. There's nothing bad enough that should separate you from your best friends and God.”

Angela cried harder.

Nicole got up and muted the television. Bishop Jakes was whooping pretty loud, and it sounded weird mixed with Angela's sobs.

Vanessa rubbed her back. “Sweetie, tell us what's wrong.” Angela sniffled. She accepted a tissue Lisa offered her and blew her nose. Her whole face was swollen. “You guys were right. I should have listened. I messed up. Again and again and again.” She sobbed harder.

Vanessa continued rubbing her back. “Angie, we understand how you feel. But you have to find a way to forgive yourself. God has already forgiven you. You need to receive it and His joy and come back to church. Ask Him to help you get back on track.”

Angela shook her head. “You don't understand. I messed up real bad.”

Lisa pushed Angela's hair out of her face. “We do understand, honey. We've all been there.”

Angela shook her head again. “No, it's worse than that.” We could barely hear her next words because of her choking sobs. “I'm . . . I'm pregnant.”

None of us could move or speak. The only sound in the room was the quiet buzz of the muted television and Angela's ragged sobs. She looked around the room at each of us—stunned into silence—and cried harder. “What do I do?” She said it over and over.

Vanessa came out of her momentary shock to hug Angela. “Shhh, sweetie, it's going to be okay. We're here for you, and we'll walk through this together.”

Nicole, Lisa, and I stared at each other, eyes open wide. It was every church girl's worst nightmare. I remember the few missed periods before I got married that terrified me down the aisle. I was sure we'd each had our own share of pregnancy scares.

When Angela quieted down, Vanessa asked her, “What did Gary say?”

Angela sniffled. “That he loves me and wants to marry me. And that even though this wasn't the timing and the circumstances he had imagined, he knew from the first time we talked that God had sent me to him and that I was his wife. He said it was up to me whether I wanted to get married as soon as possible or wait awhile.”

Lisa patted her back. “That's wonderful, Angie. See—God is going to work this all out.”

Angela shook her head. “This wasn't the way I wanted things to happen. I wanted to have a happy, beautiful wedding day—now everything's going to be rushed and covered with a cloud of shame. I've waited all my life for this, and it's not going to be wonderful like I wanted it to. This is so embarrassing.”

“It doesn't have to be, Angela. You both have to forgive yourselves and let God heal your hearts. I agree this isn't the ideal way, but it is what it is and you've got to make the best of it. The good news is, he loves you and wants to marry you—and not because of the baby. And you love him. And you guys are going to be happy together. Everything's going to be fine.”

Lisa clapped her hands together. “Now I get to plan a bridal shower and a wedding and a baby shower. We're going to have some wonderful parties over the next few months.”

Vanessa patted Angela's stomach. “And you're going to have a beautiful, healthy baby and a wonderful husband.”

A few tears slipped down Angela's face. “How can you guys be so happy about this? I'm pregnant at forty-one, out of wedlock. This is not a happy situation.”

“Sweetie, it's not a matter of it being a happy situation,” Vanessa said. “It's a matter of making the best of the situation. You can't afford to be depressed about it. You have a baby growing inside of you who can feel everything you feel. It's time to get up off the couch, dry your eyes, and move forward. You got a lot to do in the coming months. And whether you decide to get married now or later, everything's about to change. And lying on the couch won't get you anywhere.”

Lisa said, “And you've got us. We're here to walk through the whole thing with you. Whatever you need us to do.”

Nicole looked around the living room. “Yeah. And we're going to start by helping you clean up this mess.” She walked into the kitchen and opened the refrigerator. “Oh dear, and we need some groceries to feed our baby.”

For the first time all afternoon, Angela smiled. “I love you guys. Thanks for being here. Sorry I haven't—”

“No need to apologize.” I held up a hand. “We're here now. And that's all that matters.”

We spent the rest of the afternoon cleaning and getting groceries. Vanessa cooked a few meals for Angela to eat all week. Nicole made Angela shower and wash her hair. Lisa blow-dried and curled it for her. And we joked, laughed, and loved on Angela for the rest of the day.

O
n Monday morning, Erika greeted me with the bad news that Rayshawn was back at work. Terrorizing anyone anywhere near her.

“It's like she's lost her mind.” Erika closed my door after doing her usual looking left and right to make sure no one was lurking nearby. “Before, she was snaky and devious. Now, she's downright crazy. I'm not gossiping or being mean. I'm trying to let you know. Whatever you do, stay out of her way.”

“I'll be fine, Erika. I'm sure she just feels the need to let everybody know she's back and in control. It'll blow over in a couple of days.”

Erika stepped closer to my desk. “I don't think you're hearing me. This isn't Rayshawn's usual evilness. She's lost it. Word is, she's trying to take over the production department.”

I shrugged. “I ain't worried. God's got me.”

“I hope so. Put in some prayers for me and everybody else while you're at it. Especially, Ms. Carter. They've already had words this morning.”

“She had words with Ms. Carter?”

“I'm trying to tell you. She's crazy.”

Without warning, my door flew open. “Who do you think you are?”

It was Rayshawn. Looking crazier than Erika could have ever described. She had on a blinding-red pant suit that looked two sizes too big. Her wig was crooked, and her thin eyebrows were accentuated with thick, angry pencil lines.

Me and Erika stood there staring at her. She glared at Erika until she slipped behind her out the door.

“I asked you a question. Who do you think you are? Going over my head? Making all those decisions and getting things approved without my signature? I told you before, I run things around here. I told you to stay in your place. I turn my back for one second, and you stab me in it. You think you're so great? So beautiful? So in control? Everybody likes you? I tell you what.” She marched over to my bookshelf and started pulling books onto the floor. “You need to get you a box and start packing. You're out of here. Your services are no longer needed at BTV.”

“Rayshawn, what is your problem?” I didn't get too close to her. I wasn't sure how close to the edge she was, and I wasn't taking any chances.

“My problem? You're my problem. Or you
were
my problem. But my Michelle Bradford problems are about to end. Today.”

“What's going on, guys?” Jason walked into my office. Either Erika sent him to rescue me, or he'd heard the commotion.

After seeing Rayshawn snatch a few books off my shelf, he looked at me with wide-open eyes. He walked over to me and put a hand on my arm.

I shrugged it off and shook my head. I knew Jason was a sore spot with Rayshawn and didn't need him being touchy-feely in front of her while she was three shades of crazy.

Rayshawn smiled when she saw Jason. “Looks like your boyfriend is just in time to help you pack.” She looked him up and down. “You can get ready to move back to my suite when you're finished.” She turned on her heel and left.

“What was that all about?” Jason started picking up books and placed them back on the shelves. “Are you okay?”

“I'm fine.”

I had to admit I was a little shaken up. Unlike my last confrontation with her, I had no desire to give Rayshawn a beatdown. My grandma taught me you don't fight crazy people. You can get killed like that.

Erika popped her head back in my office. “Ms. Carter wants to talk to you.” She saw the books on the floor and came over to help Jason with the mess. “You go ahead. We got this.”

I nodded and left. I rushed to Ms. Carter's office to see what was going on. Did Rayshawn really have the power to fire me?

The look on Ms. Carter's face when I walked in made me even more worried. She didn't have her usual quiet confidence. “Have a seat, Michelle. I don't know if you've heard, but Rayshawn is back and is . . . somewhat upset.”

“Somewhat upset? She's lost her mind. She just fired me.”

Ms. Carter's smile was strained. “She mentioned that she was going get rid of you.”

I frowned. “Can she do that?”

Ms. Carter took a deep breath, and I felt a sick knot in the pit of my stomach. “She's got the station owner against the wall. She's threatened a sexual harassment case against him and says she has his wife's number on speed dial if he crosses her in any way.” She gave a weak laugh. “Hell hath no fury . . .”

“Miss-es Car-ter,” I said slow and drawn-out. “Does Rayshawn have the authority to fire me?” I wasn't in the mood for her double-speak or cloaked scriptures.

She let out another deep breath and folded her hands on her desk. “I'm afraid she might. She's decided that she should be the VP of programming. I received a phone call this morning, and although it wasn't said directly, I think I'm being moved over to the marketing department.”

“Marketing? What are you talking about? They're going to turn this station over to Rayshawn? You know exactly what'll happen. We'll end up with shows about video hoochies, pimps and hoes, and who knows what else. You're going to let that happen?”

Ms. Carter leaned forward, her lips drawn into a thin line. “What exactly do you expect me to do, Michelle?”

I could tell I had offended her. I didn't care. “Do something about it. Fight back. You don't want to be in marketing. You're supposed to be the VP of programming.”

She shook her head and laughed. “You're young and idealistic. You have no idea how this business works. I'll be fine in marketing. And I'll retire in five years.”

“You won't have a job to retire from because this station will go completely downhill with Rayshawn at the helm. You know that. I can't believe you're going to let her roll over you like that.”

She folded her arms and narrowed her eyes at me. I refused to be moved. If I was gonna be fired, I was going down fighting. And I knew just the strategy to use.

“What if God placed you here at this station to take it in the direction He wants it to go? What if you're called for such a time as this?”

I could tell I got to her. She looked down at her desk. I could almost hear her thinking.

After a few moments of silence, she looked up at me. “What do you expect me to do?”

“Ask God what to do and go fight. If it's His will for us to be here, He'll fix all this. If not, then I don't want to be here. Do you? Do you really want to market video hoochies?”

She shook her head and exhaled. “I don't know. This could . . .”

I knew she was thinking that if she fought, she could end up with no job at all.

She stood up and gestured toward the door. “Why don't you take a few days off until this all blows over?”

I stood. “You're sending me home?”

She held up her hands. “Just for a few days until I can sort this out. I need to meet with the other VP's and, hopefully, with the other two station owners.”

Was she saying that to appease me? Was she trying to get me out of her face so she could pack up her stuff and move over to the marketing department?

“I promise, Michelle. I'll do everything I can. I'll call you when I know the outcome.”