God Ain't Through Yet (26 page)

“D
on't you think that you're jumping to conclusions too fast?” Rhoda said when I called her up and told her about how affectionate Charlotte was with Jacob. “He's not crazy enough to do anything inappropriate.”

“How do you know that?”

“How do you know I'm not right?”

“I'd be willing to bet a month's salary that anybody who knew Mr. Boatwright would have said the same thing about him. Even you.”

“Well, Buttwright was a different story.”

“Every story on this subject is different. But the end results are always the same. After what I went through, if I let something happen to my daughter, I'd never forgive myself.”

“Annette, has Jacob done anything for you to be concerned about?”

“He's a grown man and he should not be encouraging a young girl to get too close to him. That's inappropriate, if you ask me.”

“If you're so concerned about it, dump him. And don't even think about gettin' involved with anybody else. You'll run into the same problem with the next man, and it might be even worse.”

“Let's change the subject,” I suggested, blowing out a loud groan.

“That's fine with me. But you're the one who brought it up.”

I got off the phone with Rhoda and did a few chores around the house for the next half hour. I would have continued doing that, but somebody knocked on my front door. I moved quietly from the kitchen to the living room; the broom I had been using to sweep my kitchen floor was still in my hand. I looked toward the stairs and around the room to make sure Charlotte was not lurking about. The last thing I wanted her to do was answer the door without my knowledge like she'd done the day before.

I looked through the peephole. But since I had not turned on the porch light, it was too dark for me to see who it was. I didn't see Jacob's car on the street, but that didn't mean anything. He could have walked or had somebody drop him off. I held my breath and placed my ear against the door until I heard the visitor walking away. I ran to the window and cracked open the curtains. Whoever it was had on some kind of hooded windbreaker. He had the hood on his head, and it covered the top part of his face, so I still couldn't tell who it was. He spotted me in the window, gave me a little wave, and lowered the hood so I could see his face. I was stunned to see Vernie. I snatched open the door.

“Vernie! Vernie, come on in,” I yelled. I propped the broom up in the corner by the door and beckoned for Jade's husband to enter.

“Hi, Miss Davis,” he mumbled, dragging his feet as I led him into my living room.

“Please call me Annette,” I told him. I waved him to the couch and I sat on the love seat facing him. “I didn't know you knew where I lived. It's nice to see you.”

“Uh, I hope you don't mind me coming by like this. I got your address out of Rhoda's address book. She…Jade…nobody knows I'm over here. And I'd appreciate it if you don't tell them that I came by here. I needed to talk to somebody. I don't know anybody else up here that well yet, but since you're a friend of the family I thought it'd be all right if I talked with you.”

“I see,” I said carefully, wondering what I was about to get myself involved in this time. “Vernie, would you like something to drink first?”

“Yes, ma'am. I think I need one. And the stronger the better.”

I padded to the cabinet where I kept my liquor, then poured him a shot of scotch and myself a glass of white wine.

“Now, what's the problem?” I asked, returning to my seat and crossing my legs.

He had to take a sip from his glass first. Then he looked at me with tears in his eyes. “I need to talk to you about my wife.” His hands were shaking so hard he spilled a few drops of his drink on the top of my coffee table. When he realized that, he set the glass down on a coaster; then he started wringing his hands. “I'm sorry. I didn't mean to come over here and make a mess.”

“Don't worry about that. Talk to me,” I told him.

“Like I just said, I need to talk to you about my wife.” His hands started shaking even harder. I couldn't tell if it was because he was nervous, angry, or frightened. I had a feeling it was probably all three. “That woman is driving me stone crazy!” he sputtered, balling one hand into a fist. “She is! She is driving me crazy!” He shook his fist in the air.

“I figured that,” I told him in a calm voice, looking him straight in the eye.

“Now, I know all about the bad blood between you and her. She told me her side of the story. She told me how you got jealous of her as soon as she got into her teens because she was so pretty and so slim, and you were, um, real fat and real plain back then. She told me how you used to talk trash about her, and call her names behind her back with people from the 'hood and stuff. She told me how you upset her so bad that one time that she had a mild breakdown and had to be hospitalized. She told me how she had to leave town to get you off her back. And when she came back, you started trash talking her again. That's why she doesn't want me to get to know you.”

As soon as Vernie stopped talking, I started. “Vernie, Jade told you her side of the story. Let me tell you my side.” I uncrossed my legs. “I treated Jade like she was my own child. She, like a lot of young girls, developed a crush on my husband. She started sending me anonymous hate mail, she harassed me by phone, thinking it was going to run me out of town so she could be with my husband. To make a long story short, her plan backfired. She didn't get rid of me, and she didn't get my husband. All she got for her troubles was a stint in the hospital after she suffered a mild ‘breakdown' and ‘amnesia.' Her parents sent her to New Orleans. She flunked out of college, drove her grandparents crazy; then she ran off to Cancún on spring break and got loose with a Mexican. She returned to Ohio with the Mexican. She drove him crazy, so he left here running, leaving her at the altar. That's when she had another one of her breakdowns. Then she fled to Alabama. Now she's back here and you…well, you married her. But by now, you must have an idea of what kind of girl she is.”

“Annette, I met Jade in a club one night. All I did was ask her to dance. From that point on, she decided I was ‘the one' for her. Next thing I know, I'm standing in front of a preacher getting married to her!”

“Why did you go through with it?”

“She started cooking my goose the day she met me! She kept me drunk and sexed up, so half of the time I didn't know my butt from a hole in the ground. I didn't realize she was cooking up a wedding! It happened so fast! And I didn't see it coming!” Vernie paused and finished his drink. He raised his glass, indicating that he wanted a refill. I returned from the cabinet with the bottle, filled his glass again, and set the bottle on the coffee table in case he needed more. He wasted no time drinking his second glass of scotch. “I love the girl, but I wasn't ready for all this! Here I am, twenty-two and stuck with a wife and she's trying to get pregnant! All I wanted to do when I met her was have some fun. Now look at me!”

“Vernie, what are you going to do now? Do you plan to stay here and put up with Jade's mess, or do you plan to go back to Alabama? What about your family?”

“It's just my mama and my three sisters. They stopped speaking to me after Jade cussed 'em out and told them not to call up here. I do call home from payphones to check on my mama when I can. I don't want to worry or upset her or my sisters, so I don't let them talk to Jade. I'm the man in the family, and when my daddy died when I was sixteen, I promised them that I'd take care of them. Well, Jade got me going in so many different directions, I don't know which way is up. Her daddy hired me and pays me well, but she controls my paycheck. I can't send my mama anything like I had planned on doing. Jade goes with me to the bank, takes the bulk of my pay, goes shopping, gets her nails, hair, and face done, and then she
gives me the change
! I can't live like this!”

“What do you plan to do? What can I do to help you?”

“I just needed to talk to somebody. I was going crazy sitting in that house. The only place I go without Jade is to work.”

“Where does she think you're at now?” I asked, giving him a worried look.

“She went out drinking with some of her girlfriends. Otis is working late, and Rhoda went off somewhere with Bully. I was in the house by myself,” he said, looking at his watch. “I'll be back home before any of them.” He rose.

“Do you need a ride home? How did you get over here?”

“I took a cab. I got out at the corner and walked the rest of the way.”

“Well, can I offer you a ride home?”

“Oh, Lord no! If one of Jade's nosy neighbors saw me getting out of
your
car, she'd teach me a lesson I'd never forget. I appreciate your listening to me, and I'd appreciate it if you'd keep my visit a secret. I'll flag down another cab at the corner.”

“You don't have to worry about me telling anybody about you coming over here. And please feel free to come again.” I hugged Vernie and walked him to the door. “And, Vernie, I'll be praying for you,” I told him as I clicked on the porch light.

He gave me a weak nod, pulled the hood on his windbreaker back up so that it covered the top part of his face again, and then trotted off the porch. I watched him move toward the street, dragging his feet like he was on the way to his execution. It broke my heart. I knew that if Vernie didn't get tough with Jade soon, he'd end up just like me: bitter and prone to violence.

I went back into the living room to finish my drink. A couple of minutes later, somebody knocked on my door again. I looked out the peephole, but even though I had turned on the porch light, I still couldn't see who was at my door this time. That meant that the visitor was covering my peephole. I moved over to my front window and cracked open my curtains. It was Jacob.

I snatched open the door and gave him an angry look. “Please tell me why you are here?” I demanded, one hand on my hip.

“Never mind all that! I want to know who that young nigger was that just left your house, bitch!”

I
had promised myself a long time ago that the one place I was not going to tolerate somebody disrespecting me was in my own house. I grabbed the broom that I had placed by the door. Then I stood in my doorway looking at Jacob like he had lost his mind.

“You can't be coming over here talking to me like that!” I hollered with my fingers curled around the broom handle. “Who the hell do you think you are?”

“I am Jacob Lee Brewster, BITCH!”

“So?”

“I am your man!”

“Not anymore!” I screamed before I slammed the door in his face and locked it.

I was surprised that he didn't knock again. I waited until I heard him leave the porch before I put down the broom. I peeped out the window and saw him driving away, and that was when I went back to my drink.

The following day at lunchtime, Rhoda dropped by my office. She looked as gorgeous as ever. She wore a beige dress with a matching shawl and a pair of low-heeled black pumps. Her makeup was flawless, and her long, thick black hair was in a ponytail. She looked fifteen years younger.

“I tried to call you last night, but you didn't answer and your machine didn't pick up. Is everything all right?” she asked as soon as she entered my office. In addition to the vinyl sofa in my work area, there were a couple of chairs that faced my big cherry oak desk. She dragged one up close to me and placed her elbows on the top of my desk. “You look worried.”

I looked at her and shook my head. “Same shit, different day,” I said with a shrug. I couldn't tell her about Jacob's visit last night without telling her about Vernie. I decided to improvise. “I don't think things are going to work out between Jacob and me.”

“Here we go again,” she said, rolling her eyes. “Does this have anything to do with what we talked about yesterday? His relationship with your daughter?”

“It's not just that. He's too pushy and possessive for me. I need a man who knows how to behave.”

Rhoda laughed. “Like my son-in-law?”

“What's that supposed to mean?” I sat up straighter in my chair and straightened a stack of manila folders on my desk.

“The boy is
so
docile. He'll do anything you ask him to do without protest. That kind of behavior can cause a person more grief than anything. I've told him that if he stood up to Jade, she would back off.”

“Have you tried to talk to Jade about her cutting that boy some slack?”

Rhoda didn't even bother to answer that question. She just rolled her eyes. “Next question.”

“Well, he seems like such a sweet young man. I hope she doesn't run him off like she did that sweet little Mexican dude. You can kick a dog around for only so long and he'll get tired. And when he gets tired enough, he's either going to retaliate or haul ass.” I dipped my head and turned it slightly to the side as I gauged Rhoda's reaction.

“You don't think my beautiful daughter can hold on to her husband? The women in my family don't believe in divorce, you know.”

“I know that. This is not about your beautiful daughter being able to keep her husband. He's got a mind, too. And sooner or later, he's going to put it to use.”

“Let's change the subject,” Rhoda suggested with a heavy sigh. “I had a rough night. Jade came home from a night out with her girls and as soon as she saw Vernie, she got all over him because he'd gone to bed when he should have waited up for her. Hell, it was three in the mornin' and everybody else in the house was in bed. What did she expect him to do? Anyway, she made him get up and go to the Grab and Go to get stuff to make her some tacos. He was gone only twenty minutes. When he returned, she met him in the driveway convinced that he'd taken so long because he'd met up with another woman. She choked, kicked, and punched him, and made him drop the taco things. By the time me and Otis got dressed and outside to calm her down, the package of ground beef, taco shells, and everything else was all over my front yard, all in the street, even up under my SUV, girl.”

A sad thought crossed my mind. I couldn't get the image of Vernie's long face out of my head. I even tried to shake it out, but it remained there as I resumed my part of the conversation. “Rhoda, I don't know what to say about your daughter or my new man. But I think they both need some serious help.”

Rhoda looked at me with renewed interest. “Is Jacob so bad that you want to cut him loose?”

“I…I don't know what I want to do about him. He's fun…sometimes. He's good for some, uh, maintenance sex. And…and he keeps me from feeling lonely. When I'm with him, I don't think much about Pee Wee and what I'm going to do about him. Let's go get something to eat.”

I went to a salad bar with Rhoda and when I returned to my office, there was a huge floral arrangement on my desk from Jacob. He had also left four voice mail messages. In each one, he declared his love for me, and he moaned and groaned about how sorry he was for the way he had acted at my house the night before. Even though he sounded genuinely sorry, I still didn't want to talk to him or see him.

Two days later, when Pee Wee brought Charlotte home from a night out with him at the pizza parlor and the mall, he came in. He usually didn't come in when he returned her home, but since she had several bags, he did.

“I just wanted to help Char get her stuff in the house,” he said, giving me an apologetic look as he entered the kitchen. “But don't worry, I ain't goin' to stay but a minute.”

Charlotte must not have wanted me to see all the junk and other unnecessary mess she'd talked her daddy into buying, because she'd already dashed through the kitchen like a reindeer and on up to her room.

“You can stay as long as you want to stay,” I told him. I took the remaining two shopping bags from him and set them on the counter. “You want a beer or something?”

I was so preoccupied I was not even aware of what I was saying. When I realized I'd invited him to “socialize” with me, I changed my tune. “Uh, you can take one with you if you want,” I amended.

I pretended not to see the dry look that he shot at me. “You got company comin' or somethin'?” he asked, removing a beer from the refrigerator.

“That's right!” I said quickly. “He'll be here real soon.”

I decided that my last statement would prompt him to leave immediately. It didn't. He dragged a chair from the table to the middle of the floor, turned it backward, and straddled it. From the look of things, he was going to take his good old time leaving.

“Uh, excuse me a minute. Charlotte sounds like she's tearing down the house. I'd better run upstairs to see what she's into,” I said.

I dashed upstairs, taking the steps two at a time. I cracked open Charlotte's bedroom door, gave her a quick dirty look, scolded her about all of the noise she was making, and then ran into my bedroom and called up Jacob.

“Annette, baby, I'm so glad to hear your voice,” he said as soon as he realized it was me on the other end of the line. “Baby, please give me another chance. I am sorry about barging up on your porch. But it was my dead son's birthday and I was depressed. I didn't mean to behave the way I did. I'd been drinking…”

“I got the flowers you sent today and I wanted to thank you. I also wanted to know if you'd like to come over for a little while tonight?”

I could tell he was surprised. The gasp that he released sounded like the hiss of a cobra. “I can be there in ten minutes!” he yelled, sounding so giddy it was frightening.

He lied. It didn't take him ten minutes to get to my house. Eight minutes later when I returned to my kitchen, where Pee Wee was still kicking back at the table drinking his beer, Jacob stumbled up on my front porch.

Charlotte let him in, squealing his name. He entered the kitchen with her riding him piggyback.

The minute Pee Wee saw Jacob's face and Charlotte riding his back, he rose so fast he almost knocked over his chair, grumbling with disgust under his breath.

“I didn't know you had company,” Jacob said, looking embarrassed. There was so much tension in the room you needed a meat cleaver to cut through it. I was glad that Jacob immediately untangled Charlotte from his back and set her down on the floor. “Dude,” he greeted Pee Wee, attempting to slap his palm. Pee Wee just glared at Jacob, looking at him like he wanted to punch him in the nose.

“Annette, I'll talk to you later,” Pee Wee said, looking at me like he wanted to strike my face, too. Then he seemed to soften. “By the way, I wanted to thank you for droppin' the divorce….” There was a smug look on his face as he turned to Jacob. Then he looked at me with his chin tilted upward, and his legs reared back like he was about to moonwalk.

I tried to look nonchalant so it would seem like the divorce was not that important to me for the time being. “Well, I
delayed
it so I could give it some more thought,” I clarified. “You'll be hearing more from me and my lawyer eventually.”

Pee Wee rubbed the top of Charlotte's head, kissed her on the cheek, and then left. He didn't even bother to look at me again; but from the way he looked at Jacob on his way out the door, if looks could kill, Jacob would have dropped dead on the spot.