Forgive Me (22 page)

“No one can say they haven't been down in the dumps,” said Kinsey.

Aruba's family surrounded her, each touching some part of her body, and all saddened by the sight of her tears. They maintained their unbroken circle as the sound of Darshelle's loud pickup truck barreled down the road and out of the neighborhood.

“T
rick Don't Kill My Vibe” by Kendrick Lamar wafted from Victoria's basement. The dinner dishes were put away. Tupperware bowls of leftovers filled the refrigerator, and Bobby was making good on his promise to teach Lillith how to do the Dougie. Ever since she saw Michelle Obama doing the Dougie with youth, Lillith wanted to learn to do the dance. Victoria's remaining dinner guests retreated to the basement for a Thanksgiving
Blue Lights in the Basement
party. She was proud of the dinner she prepared by herself. Victoria handled a majority of the food alone and had help from an unlikely source: Aruba Dixon. During their friendship, Aruba shared family recipes with Victoria. Victoria bought a recipe box and filed the index cards away, never planning to use them. Relocating to the South, as well as being a single mother, brought out the domestic goddess inside her. Although they ended on bad terms, Victoria always loved Aruba's cooking. Her family members and friends oohed and aahed over the dressing, ham, potato salad, red velvet cake, and other treats. A twinge of loneliness rose when she thought of Emory. He would have been proud of her meal and her continuing effort to lose weight. She was down fifteen additional pounds, had more energy, and was enjoying life as best she could.

“Put your arms out front more, Lillith,” said Bobby.

Lillith leaned side to side as she followed Bobby's lead. Yvette, Carl, Foster, and Marguerite grooved to their own rhythms. Bobby gyrated behind Lillith before remembering his audience. He gave Foster a sheepish grin and stopped his raunchy movements.

“Sorry, Pastor,” said Bobby.

“Be yourself, young man,” said Foster.

Foster cued the music for old- and new-school pleasure. Before he found Christ and became a megachurch pastor, he was a deejay for parties throughout Atlanta and North Georgia. When Victoria asked him to spin records for the night, he gladly accepted.

“How am I doing, Bobby?” Lillith asked. She leaned harder this time, singing along with Kendrick.

“You got it now, Lill,” said Bobby. He pumped his fists in the air and feigned a heart attack like his father did at their basement parties.

“Not Elizabeth!” said Lillith. Every blue moon, she and Bobby made a familiar connection, closing the generational gap they shared.

Victoria poured nonalcoholic beverages for the giddy couples. It had been a long time since she felt this happy. Things weren't perfect, but they were stable. Nicolette dined with the neighbor's children today, giving the adults time to unwind. When the doorbell rang, everyone looked at Victoria. Foster turned the music down.

“I told Nicolette to stay next door until six o'clock. She's forever leaving her key, and she never remembers the garage passcode. I'll be right back.”

Yvette, Marguerite, and Lillith giggled while Foster, Carl, and Bobby shook their heads. Victoria ran up the stairs, something impossible just three months ago. She flung open the door, ready to give Nicolette a lesson on responsibility.

“Young lady—”

“Nothing feminine about me at all,” said Emory. He held a beautiful bouquet of pink, white, and purple roses.

“Emory, what are you doing here?”

“You invited me. I told you I wouldn't be able to make it until after my flight arrived,” said Emory.

“I didn't invite—” She directed her gaze toward the basement, shaking her head. There was too much giggling before she came upstairs. “I think we're victims of overzealous matchmakers. Come inside.”

Emory handed her the bouquet. “Before I enter, may I kiss you?”

“Are you sure you want to kiss me?”

“Positive.”

They fell into their old rhythm, swept up in familiar tongue-locking like old times. He stepped inside the foyer and gave her his coat. She wasn't the only one who'd been working out. He'd slimmed down significantly and looked as handsome as ever. He still had a linebacker physique, and his undeniable swagger remained intact. She took in his tailored, pinstripe suit, decorative tie, and wingtip shoes.
This man can hang a suit.

Emory and Victoria went to the kitchen. She found a vase from the cabinet and filled it with water for her bouquet. She was beyond playing games and waited for the day they could have a heart-to-heart talk about their relationship. He took a seat at the island.

“Is Nicolette here?” he asked.

“She's across the street. All the neighborhood children were invited over for a big feast. I can't imagine hosting fifty children, but I learned the Danbys have the children over every year. It's their give-back move since they're childless.”

“I see.” He removed a small box from his jacket. “I brought her
a Thanksgiving present. It's nothing fancy. Just something to get her started.”

Victoria eyed the blue box. “May I?”

“Go ahead.”

Victoria removed the beautiful charm bracelet from the box. Emory blew her away with his memory. During the summer, they vacationed in Hilton Head Island, South Carolina. Nicolette made fast friends with the girls in the adjacent timeshare. One of the girls flashed her Elsa Peretti charm bracelet. She pointed out the heart, Red Jasper Bean, lapis Starfish, rock crystal Tear Drop, and jade Eternal Circle. It was the must-have item amongst the girls during summer. She asked her Uncle Em if he'd buy it for her. He assured her he'd see what he could do.

“When did you get this?”

“A week after our vacation. I planned to give it to her for her birthday, but I didn't get a chance after our breakup.”

Victoria didn't know what to say. Emory always included her daughter in their outings and activities.

“Thanks, Emory. She's missed you a lot.”

“Have you?”

She hesitated a moment, then responded. “Yes. More than I ever thought I would.” She joined him at the island. “Have you eaten yet?”

“Stuffed. We had a big spread at the studio, so I can't eat another morsel.”

“I cooked dinner all by myself this year.”

“Without my prompting?”

“Yes,” she said. They laughed, knowing he ruled the kitchen in his home and hers. “So tell me when I invited you over.”

Emory whipped out his cell phone. He opened his text messages
and scrolled up to the first message he received from her and read it aloud. “Emory, I'd like to clear the air. Are you available to come by for Thanksgiving?”

Victoria noted the date: November 8, 2013. It was the same date her phone went missing while lunching with Yvette. She searched everywhere for her phone. Due to her newfound thriftiness, she chose not to buy a new phone. She'd just wait until she found the old one. She wasn't attached to her phone and often lost it. She knew it would reappear.
So, Yvette is the culprit.

“May I?” she asked.

She looked at the trail of messages. Yvette knew her so well that she wrote and responded in her voice.

“Emory, I didn't send these messages.”

“They're from your number,” he said.

“I had lunch with Yvette two weeks ago, and it appears she snatched my phone for
Match.com
purposes.”

“Duped again, heh?” Emory stood to leave. “At least I'm not being embarrassed in a room full of people this time.”

“Stay, please.” She took his hand and led him to the living room. After they were seated on the sofa, she faced him. “I'm glad Yvette reached out to you on my behalf. I've missed you so much since the night of the party. I've felt off-balance without you. I didn't realize how much I loved you until you were gone.”

“I'm sorry for not responding initially. I felt like a fool proposing to you in front of everyone and you turning me down. Your family and friends pulled together to make the night special, and it blew up in my face.”

“Emory, I've been stuck since my husband died. I don't trust anyone, and the minute someone gets close to me, I clam up.”

“What does that have to do with me? I told you while we were
dating, I'm not your deceased husband, and every woman isn't Aruba. You have to get past your hurt at some point.”

“I'm working on it. Believe me, I am. Lillith had a cancer scare which has brought us closer. I understand a bit better why she abandoned me when I was younger. And Emory, the bitterness I feel has physical manifestations. My chest hurts when I think about Aruba or Winston. I can't breathe sometimes, and Nicolette says my face wrinkles when I'm angry. I'm too young to be this mad all the time.”

“I agree. You're moving in the right direction. I'm proud of you.” He let her words sink in. He hadn't noticed her svelte figure until now. “I'm guessing your weight loss is part of your transformation?”

“Yvette has been dog-walking me, Emory! If we're not at the park walking, we're at Planet Fitness or one of the local CrossFit locations. I didn't know burpees went beyond babies.”

“Same here. I love to cook and eat, but it feels like I'm digging my grave with my teeth,” he said.

“If you're willing to put up with my mistrustful ways, I think we could balance each other out well,” she said.

“Are you willing to try again? I'm talking tortoise pace.”

“Yes, Emory, I'm willing to give us another try.”

They hugged as the team of matchmakers, who had snuck up from the basement, eavesdropped and high-fived at the sound of the reunion.

I
'm spending Thanksgiving at the Marion County Jail.
Lake signed himself into the facility, incredulous his time had been wasted on his wife's poor decisions. Sign-in time was forty-five minutes prior to the visit. During that time, he presented his ID, stood still for the security wand, and had his belongings placed in a locker. He didn't realize how fortunate he was until a ruckus three persons ahead of him broke out. A woman had been arrested within the last three months, so she was unable to visit her daughter. She was escorted from the line by a security officer. His limited experience with the law was aided by Jamilah's expertise. Just as she had helped Tawatha with her legal troubles, Jamilah assisted Lasheera with her case. She was unable to get a bondsman due to the holiday, but she was scheduled to be out of jail first thing Monday morning. She had four more days to ponder her mistakes. Lake, ambivalent about her innocence, wavered about visiting her. He relented after Aunjanue convinced him Lasheera needed him now more than ever. He weighed her words as Lasheera sat behind a glass partition. She pointed to the phone to his left; he picked it up to speak with her.

“Happy Thanksgiving, Lake.”

He nodded.

“I'm sorry you have to be here. I know you planned this holiday
months ago for us. Dinner was supposed to be at our house with everyone.”

“It would be better if you were home.”

“I know.”

“Why, baby?”

Lasheera shrugged and touched the glass.

“You have to give me more than a shrug. We've been through a lot together, and for the past few months, I've learned more about you from other people than you.”

Lasheera bit her bottom lip and watched as Lake planted his elbows on the small space in front of the window. During her time on the streets, she'd convinced herself a man like Lake didn't exist. Not for women like her. She also knew she'd never get married. Too many mistakes had been made; too many slipups had come between her and happiness. The evening she took Aunjanue to an art fair at Lincoln Middle School, she had no idea a teacher would capture and keep her attention. Love, then marriage. The baby carriage bit was altered somewhat since she had a child, but Lake accepted Zion as his own and loved them all equally. The only other incident that topped his undying love was allowing Aunjanue to join their family. He had been good to them, and staring into his loving eyes, she couldn't muster an excuse for her behavior—not a single one. So, she plowed forward with what she could—the truth.