I Don't Want to Lose You (20 page)

             
I was unaware that my father had started putting money aside when it looked as though a wedding with Nathaniel was going to be in the future.  He hadn't told my mother about it.  He handed me an envelope with the bank account information and the ATM card linked to it.  It was a little more than two thousand in there but it was mine to use whatever way I wanted to. He ended by saying that he would like to meet his new son-in-law and get to know him.  I told him that we would come by the next day for dinner if he was feeling up to it.

             
As I drove back to work I couldn't help thinking of how great of man my father was and how much wasn't required of me to have his support.  I decided I would keep the financial contents of that conversation to myself and would let Theo know that we had dinner plans. 

             
The next day I had a short day at work to get some extra hours in and came home to a panicked husband and a friend being an instigator.

             
“You ran off with his daughter, man,” I could hear Ralph say as I approached the bedroom.  “He's just trying to get you over there so that he can break you like a twig.  Isn't he a fireman?  You know they work out.”

             
I walked in. “What in the world?  Ralph, stop putting stuff in his head!”

             
Ralph chuckled. I went over to Theo to see him sweating, which made me nervous because excessive sweating was something I needed to watch out for.  “Are you all right?  You're sweating.”

             
He shook his head no. “I did everything wrong.  I didn't ask him for your hand in marriage.  We just ran off and got married and then I took you from his home to my parents' home.  I have no job.  We don't have our own place. I have no way to support you and now I have to face the firing squad.”

             
I sighed.  “There's no firing squad.  Calm down.  Just be you, love, and it will be fine.  I promise.  My dad is not like that.”

             
“Didn't you say he used to be a Black Panther?” he asked.

             
Ralph laughed.  “You don't look Black to me.  He's gonna kill you as soon as you walk in the door.  He has a gun, doesn't he Monica?”

             
“Ralph, you're not helping.  Theo, don't listen to him.  You'll be fine with my dad.  It may be my sister who has the problem, but I don't care.  Just stop worrying over it.”  I tried to calm him down even though the reality was that I was just as nervous inside.  “He remembered meeting you before and is fully aware that you're not Black.”

             
“I'm going to go, man,” Ralph said.  “I hope you're still alive for me to talk to you tomorrow. Later, Mon.”  He got up and left.

             
I didn't think my father would have any obvious issues with Theo's race, if any at all.  At least not anymore.  A couple of years before my father had walked in on a conversation that I was having with Phaedra about the traits of the man we thought we would marry that created enlightenment. 

             
“I want a brother who is tall like a basketball player with a six pack and a couple of tattoos,” Phaedra said.

             
“Tattoos?” I said with a disgusted look on my face.

             
“Oh yeah,” she said, “with milk chocolate skin, preferably hazel eyes and on point with his clothes. He won't do fake stuff.  Knock offs will not be allowed.”

             
“That sounds pretty tasty,” I said.

             
“Tasty?” my dad asked with a confused look on his face.  “I thought you were talking about males, not food.”

             
“Come on, Dad,” I responded. “Don't act like men don't do it.  Women get compared to food or animals by men all of the time.”

             
“I don't do that,” he stated.  “Maybe this isn't a conversation I should be listening to.”

             
We decided to ignore his presence.  “So what do you want?” Phaedra asked.

             
I thought about it for a moment.  “I like guys that look like they play football and when you see them you don't want to mess with them because you don't want get beat down.  I like broad shoulders and he has to be taller than me.  I like a man that looks like he likes to eat because I don't want to feel self conscience when I'm eating in front of him.  Ain't nothing worse than eating more than the man you're with.”

             
“How do you know this?” my dad asked.

             
I turned to him and answered, “I watch TV and movies.”  I turned my attention back to my sister and gave her a look that clearly asked, “Why is he in our conversation?” She shrugged to give me an answer.  I continued talking to Phaedra.  “He needs to be able to pay for the stuff that we do. I can still be an independent woman that can have the man pay for everything.  My money will still be in my bank account at the end of the day.”

             
“I heard that,” she said.

             
“He has to have a nice car, good job, nice place, professional look in the daytime for work.  Look good in a trench coat.  You know I love the trench coats, especially after that 'Can You Stand the Rain' video with New Edition in their coats?  Whew, they looked good.”

             
“Uh huh. But what is he going to look like?”

             
“I'm not real picky, to be honest.  Mexican, Puerto Rican, White, Samoan.”

             
She nodded.  “Not bad.”

             
“What about Black?” my dad asked. “You didn't say a Black man.”

             
“To be real with you, Dad, I'm not really attracted to Black men all that much.  Not that there's anything wrong with them because there are some fine looking ones out there.  But they don't do anything for me.”

             
“So you would rather go to another race instead of seeing if things could work with someone of your own race?”

             
“Dad, I didn't say that.  I'm saying that if I had my preference, that's what I would like.  The truth is that I really don't care what the race of the man is as long as he loves me and treats me right.  His race is just his shell.  I'm more concerned about the person within.”

             
“Did I do something to make you not have interest in Black men?” he asked.

             
“Absolutely not!  You're a great father and, with a few changes here and there, I wouldn't mind marrying someone like you.   Even if that someone like you comes in a Mexican body, a Puerto Rican body, a Samoan body or a Black body.”

             
“I never thought that I would have a child that would want to marry outside the race?”             

             
I had a thought that struck me that I didn't care for.  “Dad, are you a racist?”

             
“No, I'm not,” he calmly answered.  “While I did leave the Panthers because my beliefs shifted to one of being more harmonious with others, I still have Black pride.  You know that I have good friends who are White and Mexican.”

             
“So if they're good enough to be your friends, why aren't they good enough for me to marry?”

             
He nodded.  “I get your point.”

             
“I am Black and proud to be,” I said, “but I believe that we have the right to choose from a variety of people, just like we have a variety of food to choose from.”  I sighed.  “How did this conversation turn so serious?  We were having girl talk over here and then you got all in it.”

             
“I said that I probably shouldn't have been listening to it,” he said defensively.

             
I paused then said, “Maybe you should have.”

             
And here I was, preparing to bring my Mexican husband home to meet Mom and Dad.

             
“What should I wear to dinner?” Theo asked.

             
“What do you mean?  You should wear clothes,” I answered.

             
“But what?”             

             
“I don't know. Some pants maybe.  A shirt would be nice.  Some socks and shoes could make it all come together.”

             
He smiled at my sarcasm.  “I need to calm down, don't I?”

             
“Yep.  It would also help if you didn't have a friend to terrify you.  You'll be fine, I promise.  I won't tolerate them being mean to you and, if it gets uncomfortable for either one of us, we'll just leave.  Okay?”             

             
He nodded and took my hand and kissed it. “Ma cherie.”

             
“So what have you been doing today?”

             
“I just came back from running errands with Ralph.  I had to get out of here.  We finished the carrot cake.  By the way, he requested chocolate for your next one.  Oh, and I finished my list.  You want to see it?”

             
“I'm not going to make a chocolate cake when you really shouldn't be eating it,” I answered, remembering his dietary restrictions.

             
He thought real quick and said, “Well, it's Manny's favorite cake and I know he'd love it if you made it, too.”

             
“I got to think about it,” I said.

             
I got myself comfortable on the bed and he handed me the paper.  I read some of them off quietly like go to Sea World in San Diego, fly and ride a motorcycle.  Others I read out loud, partly because I couldn't believe he wrote them down.  “Go to a Laker game. See a Broadway play. Have sex and live to talk about it.  Have sex again and not die.”  I stopped and looked at him in disbelief that this was the kind of stuff he would put on his list.

             
He grinned.  “What?  I’m nineteen.  I’m a dude.  I don’t have much time left and I got a chick to do it with.  It belongs on the list!”

             
I rolled my eyes at him and continued reading, as there were only about twelve or thirteen things on there, but a handful involved sex and I didn't pay all of them any real attention.  “Read War and Peace?”

             
“What's wrong with that?”

             
“No one reads War and Peace.  You watch the movie and get Cliff's Notes and say that you did.”

             
He shook his head.  “I want to read it.  You can read it with me.”

             
My face showed disgust.  “Do you even have the book?”

             
“Not yet.”

             
I rolled my eyes again and sighed before I continued reading the list.  The last two touched my heart.  “Do something awesome for my wife. Do something awesome with my wife.” I smiled as I leaned over and kissed his cheek.

             
That night we went to my parents' house and were completely comfortable in jeans.  My mother had made linguine and clams with clam sauce, garlic bread and steamed vegetables with peach cobbler for dessert.  Theo was in full impressive form with his manners, such as pulling out my chair, and his respectful questions and answers.  The only person who didn't have anything to contribute during dinner was my sister.  My parents did well in not being intrusive about his obvious illness. Then the test came.

             
My father and I were very competitive and loved playing Scrabble, which we played almost every night that I was at home when I lived there since I was a senior in high school.  He asked Theo if he wanted to play.  This was my father's way of testing his depth of knowledge of a dictionary and all of the other mental things involved in Scrabble.   Even winning with a score of less than three hundred was despicable between us.  With the exception of my sister, we all moved into the family room.  My mother and I watched television and talked while the two of them played.  I occasionally checked in on the game, but I wanted to stay out of it since my two favorite men were playing.  I didn't want to show favoritism although I was clearly rooting for my husband.  Early in the game Theo was able to use all of his letters to make a word and use a 'S' to get points from a word already down on the board.  One of the letters got him a double word score and there were some double and triple letters to be accounted for too.  He was able to get the additional fifty points for using all of his letters to have seventy four points.  He made me proud.  The game ended with my dad losing by five points but both of them were barely over three hundred.  My dad shook his hand and told him it was a good game.  We decided to leave after that, but not before I pulled my dad aside and asked if he could see about doing a favor for me since he knew people.

             
We got into my car and headed home.

             
“Your parents are so cool.  I really like your dad,” he said.

             
“You're pretty cool yourself.  I can tell that they liked you.  They just need to get to know you better to love you.  When I tell you not to stress yourself out over my family, please listen next time.”

             
“Yes, dear.”

CHAPTER TWENTY NINE

              Generally I liked having deadlines.  There's no ifs, ands or buts to give about why a deadline can’t be met.  It's pretty cut and dry.  You know what you have to do and when you have to do it by and you need make sure that, no matter what else may present itself, it's been accomplished when the time is up.  I hated not knowing when the deadline was on Theo's life.  Although I became a woman on a mission with a list that wasn't necessarily impossible, there were too many variables involved to know if I would accomplish my goal.  The money wasn't an issue since he didn't have things listed that cost more than I had funds for.    It was how he would feel on any given day at any given time.  One bad turn of his health and that would be it.  Wherever we were on the list would be where we remained until he got better, if he got better.  While hearing the ticking sounds of a clock in my head, I had to do my best to make sure that I didn't push him if it wasn't a good day for him.

             
The day after reading his list I went to a book store to purchase War and Peace once I was done with work.  It wasn't a big thing for me to read a book in a day with two to three hundred pages as long as it was able to hold my interest.  But this thing? This wasn't a book.  This was something you put under the edge of one side of your couch to make it be even after a leg broke off.  This was something you stepped on to reach a high shelf in your kitchen cabinet.  This was something you left on your living room coffee table to tell your visitors that you've read to make them feel uncultured in literature.  This book was definitely something I didn't want to read but I was willing to do it for my husband.  What you won't do for love.  Good grief!

             
I came home and made dinner.   Afterwards, Theo and I went to our room.  I pulled out the book.  As I was about to turn around and show it to him, he kissed me.  It lasted so long that I wasn't sure if it was about to turn into something else until he stopped.

             
“Dinner was good,” he said.  “You don't know how much I appreciate you helping my mom out with the cooking.  She hasn't been able to sit down and take a break for a few minutes in a long time.  I heard her tell my dad that you're making her wish that they had a daughter.”

             
I smiled.  “That's nice of her.  I don't feel like I'm doing much.”

             
“I guess to her you are.”

             
I knew he was probably saying that to make me feel like she was accepting me and the marriage but I wasn't falling for it.  I knew better.  Back to business.  “I got your book.”  I handed it to him and he put it on his desk.

             
He sighed.  “Thank you.  I’ll start on that later.  I'm feeling good right now and you're a good woman and I kind of like you.”  I wasn't sure where he was going with this since he wasn't saying any of it with enthusiasm.  He rolled his eyes.  “I know you've wanted to watch A Walk in the Clouds so I went and rented it.”

             
My eyes widened and my jaw dropped.  “I haven't seen it in so long and the story reminds me of us. I know you don't want to watch a chick flick though.”

             
“I'll do it for you.  It's already here and it's movie night.”  He sighed again like he was preparing himself to be tortured as he went to put the movie on and I made myself comfortable on the bed.  We watched the movie snuggled up to each other with Manny being our only interruption.  He would come in every time he heard the music playing to dance and I would get up to dance with him.

             
When the movie was over Theo said, “That was a nice movie.”  He turned to me and saw that I was tearing up.  “Are you okay?”

             
I nodded.  “Yeah,” I said while sniffling and trying to hold back tears.

             
“How did that remind you of us?  I didn’t see it.”

             
“You didn't see it?  Like, he's White and I'm Black and we both are trying to fit into this Mexican family.”  My voice was shaky.

             
“But they weren't really married.  We are.”

             
“But he still loved her anyway.”  And with that I started boo-hooing and my brain began to go on its memory roller coaster.  “It's like this other movie I saw where the woman married this man she didn't know very long and his family treated her so bad, but she took it because she truly loved him.  They thought she was only after his money.  And she played in another movie with another guy who played in another movie where his mother died and-”

             
“Stop, stop, stop,” he said as he put his hands up.  “What does any of that have to do with this movie and us?”

             
I looked around for a few seconds to try to think of a connection.  I said, “Nothing,” and started crying even more.

             
Just then Manny walked into the room and I quickly covered my face so that he wouldn't have to see what an ugly crier I was.  He came over to me and removed my hands from my face and asked, “Why are you crying?”

             
Theo reached over to his nightstand and grabbed some tissue and handed them to me.  “Because she's a girl,” he answered.  “Sometimes movies can make girls cry.”

             
I cleaned my face.

             
“Are you okay?” Manny asked with a genuine look of concern on his face.

             
I smiled.  “I'm fine.  Sometimes I just need to be a girl and cry.”

             
“I'm glad I'm not a girl,” Manny said as he walked out.

             
“So am I,” agreed Theo.  He turned to me, “But I'm happy with the girl I got even if she is a little loca.”  He kissed my hand.

             
That night we began to read War and Peace.  We read aloud to each other for about an hour, taking turns about every ten minutes until it put us to sleep.