A Cold Piece of Work (32 page)

But to see her so broken and so scared broke Solomon. The ice that coated his heart defrosted, quickly.

He was going to tell her his feelings, tell her he was wrong, that he missed her and that they had nothing between them that could not be fixed. But only after the positive news about Gerald would he empty his emotions on her.

“God,” he began his silent prayer with Michele in his arms, “bring our child back to us, please. He's young and has his entire life to live as You order him to live it. Please don't take him away from us.”

Shortly after his prayer, Dr. Carter approached him and Michele.

“Doctor,” he said. He and Michele stood up, but held their collective breath.

“Gerald seems to be getting better,” he said, and Solomon's grip around Michele's shoulder tightened. “He has reacted well to the medicine we administered. He's still sleeping, but his vital signs are very encouraging. We've moved him to a room on the third floor. He's resting and by tomorrow you should see a dramatic difference in his condition.”

“Doctor, thank you,” Solomon said.

Michele could only cry tears of relief.

“I'm sure you want to see him,” Dr. Carter said. “The nurse here will take you up to his room.”

Solomon hugged Michele and she hugged back. Then he leaned away from her and wiped the tears from her face.

“You can smile now; he's all right,” he said.

He clutched her hand and they followed the nurse to the elevator and up to Gerald's Room 326.

Solomon let Michele go into the room first as he stopped the nurse outside the door.

“I can tell you right now that we're not leaving here tonight,” he said. “We've got to be here for him. I hope there is no regulation against parents staying in the room with their child.”

“No, you're fine,” she said. “He needs to see you all as soon as he wakes up, so it's okay.”

Solomon thanked her and went into the room to see Gerald sleeping with an IV in his left arm and his mom practically in bed with him.

“Michele, you're going to collapse the boy's chest,” Solomon said.

His exaggeration worked; Michele laughed.

“I know, right?” she said. “Let me sit down and get myself together.”

Solomon pulled over a chair next to the right side of the bed so Michele could sit and hold Gerald's hand at the same time. Then he moved a chair from the other side of the room to Michele's side.

She calmed down and collected her thoughts. She spoke softly, so as to not disturb Gerald.

“Thank you for being here,” she said. “I couldn't have made it without you. I was so scared.”

“I'm supposed to be here; that's my son.”

“But how could you be so calm?”

“Calm? I'm glad it seemed that way,” he answered. “In reality, I was petrified. I thought my heart was going to burst out of my chest. I couldn't get a positive thought to enter my mind, which is not like me at all. But…”

“But what?” Michele said, turning toward Solomon.

“But I saw how devastated and scared you were and I couldn't focus on me anymore,” he said, looking at Gerald. Then he turned to her.

“All I could think about then was making it better for you, if that was possible,” he added. “My fear didn't go away; it was pushed aside. I just felt like I had to be there for you, almost like if you were okay, Gerald would be okay.

“So my emotions shifted from worrying about Gerald to worrying about you.”

“Really? But why?”

“Why? Because I love you. Simple as that.”

“You do? I thought you hated me.”

“I didn't like how things were going,” Solomon said. “I didn't like what you thought about me. I didn't like feeling like I didn't trust you. But I never hated you. I always loved you.”

He put his left arm around her shoulder. He was not looking for a response from Michele. He only wanted to tell her how he felt.

Something happened in that hospital waiting room. In that time of crisis, Solomon took inventory on himself and decided he could be better. His son was in danger and that forced him to understand the value of pulling his relationship with Michele out of danger.

“I went out on a date last weekend,” Michele said.

Solomon did not move, but his heart rate climbed. Quickly.

“Really? Had fun?” he asked. It was a mistake to inquire. If she had said, “Yes, I did,” it would have bothered Solomon more. But his position of not holding back was dominant.

“It was a disaster,” she said. Solomon was not disappointed to hear that.

“The guy who took me to a house party got mad at me because
I told him his food sucked, which it did, and told me I needed to get another ride home.”

“What?” Solomon jumped in. “He told you to get another ride?”

“Yes, he was upset. I didn't know he was the caterer. And when I said the food was awful, he lost it,” she recalled. “So the lady of the house hooks me up with her brother—”

“So you had two dates in one night?” Solomon jumped in.

“I didn't look at it that way. I got a ride from him. He was a nice guy, though. And it turned out that he knows you, works with you at Coke, and was singing your praises. I was like, ‘Can I avoid this man?'”

“Who was it?” Solomon asked.

“Anthony. I didn't get his last name.”

“I know Anthony; Anthony Richards. Good dude,” Solomon said. “Glad to hear he wasn't one of those brothers who tries to squash you to advance his own agenda.”

“I thought the same thing,” she said.

“So, anyway, I tell you I love you; you tell me you went out on a date?” Solomon said, smiling. “Something seems wrong with that.”

“I was trying to avoid telling you how much I love you.”

“Why would you want to do that?”

“I almost think that if you know I love you, you know you can do things to hurt me. Like you would use it against me.”

“That's not good,” he said. “Or right. Listen, in the last months I've broken any ties I've had with women. Well, I still have one to tell, but she knows the deal, based on us not having any contact.

“There was nothing that happened where I was trying to hurt you. I was just trying to be a father; that's where it all started. You had your view on it, I had mine… And, to be honest, I really don't want to rehash all that stuff. I've rehashed it over and over for the last two months.

“You want to talk about it, fine,” he added. “But if this situation has taught us anything, it's that we have to live.”

As if he were listening, Gerald opened his eyes and moved his hand. The parents stood up.

“Hi, baby,” Michele said. “Hi, baby.”

“Hey, my man,” Solomon said.

He looked at them with a confused expression on his face. Then he started crying, which made the floodgates open for Michele.

Solomon tried to comfort them both.

“Hey, hey, it's okay,” he said in reassuring tones. “Your mom and dad are here. And we're going to stay here until you're ready to come home, okay?”

Gerald did not answer, not with words. The fear in his eyes, though, diminished, signaling he understood and, more importantly, found comfort in his father's words.

And so did Michele.

“I'm going to get the doctor to let him know you're awake now,” Solomon said. “I'll be right back.”

He rubbed Michele on her shoulder before stepping into the hallway. It was there that he released all the emotions that had engulfed him over the last several weeks; anger and disappointment, loneliness and regret, sadness and fear, relief and gratitude.

It all came rushing out, like water over a breached levee. For about thirty seconds he did not discard his own feelings or try to protect someone else's or put up a brave front. He let it all go and cried.

The release was pure and cleansing. Solomon could not recall the last time he had cried. This breakthrough felt as if he had disposed of untapped emotions that had weighed him down. He could breathe easier afterward. He felt free of himself.

B
efore long, Gerald was back to himself; active and joking and just being a kid. And Solomon and Michele were working their way beyond the troubles of the past. They were not altogether in unison, but they were open to something they were not before: compromise.

A week after the scare with their son, Solomon had them over his house for a cookout. It was just the three of them—and Ray, his wife, Cynthia, and son, Ray-Ray. After devouring Solomon's offering of grilled lamb chops, turkey burgers, corn on the cob and chicken wings, they tore through Michele's rum pound cake, and blueberry cobbler, with Blue Bell vanilla ice cream.

The boys played basketball in the driveway, leaving the parents available for some adult conversation.

“It's a shame we're just meeting, Cynthia,” Michele said.

“I know, girl,” Cynthia said. “I've heard a lot about you through Raymond. I'm glad we all slowed down long enough to get together.”

“Me, too,” Solomon said. “I can't even catch up with Ray anymore.”

“Guess what?” Cynthia said. “Me, either.”

She was not joking. There was an edge in how she spoke. Ray did not dare touch it.

“Anyway,” he said, “it's good to see Gerald is back to normal.”

“Why don't you want to address what I just said?” Cynthia insisted.

“Because we've already addressed it,” he said. “I don't know why you're even bringing it up now. We're having a good time.”

“You've been having a lot of good times lately,” she added.

Solomon and Michele looked at each other. Clearly, there was drama in paradise, drama Ray had not shared with Solomon.

“Well, let's just ask the question then,” Cynthia said. “Do you all think it is okay for your mate to go out pretty consistently without you?”

Solomon's mind started racing for a way to help his boy's cause. But Ray had not shared with him the circumstances of their discord, so he had to go on instinct.

“I'll go first, if that's okay, Michele,” he began. “The one thing no relationship will overcome is a lack of trust. Trust me on this, I know. I won't even go into detail about my cases, but it matters a lot.

“So, if a man says, ‘Honey, I'm going to go with the fellas to watch Monday Night Football at the sports bar,' there shouldn't be any drama about that. Right? A man works, does his thing for his family, why can't he occasionally kick it with the boys?”

“Because it never happens that men don't have women around,” Cynthia said.

“See what I'm dealing with?” Ray said.

“Don't even try it, Ray,” she responded. “You have used the ‘going out with the boys' story quite a bit. You must get tired of him calling you about it, don't you, Solomon?”

Solomon laughed to hide his surprise. Ray had not called Solomon about hanging out in months. And yet, when he tried to connect with him, Ray was frequently busy. So, he was getting the picture: Ray apparently had something going on outside of the house.

“I'm always up for hanging out,” Solomon said. He focused on
the answer and not Ray's predicament. “It's something that boggles a man's mind. If you ladies want to go to a book club meeting or have a girl's night out or just go shopping with a friend or two and a movie, we support you.

“Am I right, Michele? We don't have the length of history that they have, but we're coming up on a year and I've recommended places for you to hang out with your cousin or friends. I've encouraged you to go. It's a healthy thing.

“But I remember saying I was going to hang with some guys from my job; you remember this, Michele? One night after work on a Friday, and she got quiet on me. Had nothing to say, which said a lot. It wasn't, ‘Okay, where are you going? Have fun.' It was a smirk across her face and, ‘Hmmmm.'

“I said, ‘Excuse me?' She said, ‘Well, I was thinking we would do something.' I said, ‘I'm good with that, but we went out last night, both nights last weekend and the weekend before that. I sort of already committed to the guys. Let's hang out Saturday night.'

“She said, ‘So, you weren't asking me, you were telling me?' Can you believe that? I'm a grown-ass man and she wanted me to
ask
her for permission to go out with some friends?

“So, what do you think happened, Ray?”

“I know what happened,” he said. “Y'all got into an argument.”

“Exactly,” Solomon said, leaping from his seat in the family room to give Ray a high-five. “That's exactly what happened: a useless argument. And here's the thing: The argument wasn't really about me not asking her for permission. It was about her not wanting me to go out in the first place. She was just waiting for something to sink her teeth in and that was it.”

“That's not fair, Solomon,” Michele said. “You bring up the one case where I wasn't quite so comfortable with you going out.
And that was only because there was an artist in town that I wanted to go see that night.”

“What? This is news to me; you never said that, Michele,” he countered. “On top of that, that wasn't the only case. What about when I had an alumni association event to go to. Gerald was with Sonya and you had a catering job. Instead of saying, ‘Have fun,' you said, ‘Why don't you stay home sometimes?' I said, ‘I hardly go anywhere without you.' And your argument was that I shouldn't go to an event without you, even if it was important to my alumni association and even if you couldn't go. Sorry, but that's crazy. Isn't that crazy, Cynthia?”

“Of course, it's not crazy,” Cynthia said. “It has to be more than her not wanting you to go.”

“That's right, Cynthia,” Michele said. “See, a woman understands a woman. As a matter of fact, the president of his alumni association is a woman he used to date.”