Taste of Reality (8 page)

I assumed she meant that Rachel was going to be fired, but I would still have to be in dire need before I dropped any of my hard-earned money in here again.

“I’m sorry, too,” I told her. “Mom, are you ready?”

Mom nodded, and we left the store in a fury.

“It doesn’t look like those laws you were talking about are making that much of a difference, Mom. Some of these people are crazy, and it makes you wonder what type of households they were raised in.”

“Well, some of these young people are only racist because of learned behavior. Their parents hated blacks and their parents’
parents felt the same way. If no one breaks the cycle, then the problem will never go away. But not every white person is like the girl back in that store, because I have many white friends I would trust with my life and who would do anything for me. Which is why I raised you to like people for who they are and not because of their skin color.”

“I feel the same way about Lorna and some of the women who live in our subdivision, but there are still so many people who hate that we shop in the same stores or eat at the same restaurants as them. It makes me so angry, but you just don’t know, Mom, sometimes it makes me feel like crying. Sometimes the thought of never having a chance to be treated equally tears my heart apart, because it’s so humiliating. It’s like we’re fighting a losing battle to be treated fairly.”

“I know, but you can’t give up, because too many people lost their lives trying to fight for our rights.”

We continued walking, and I realized that this latest incident of bias had us walking through a crowded mall talking about racism and equal opportunity. I didn’t even feel like shopping any longer. Not at any store I could think of.

“Do you wanna just leave?” I asked.

“I’m ready whenever you are. You know I’m not the biggest shopper in the world anyway, and I only came so we could spend some time together.”

I was already depressed, still up in the air about my marriage and my job, and now this had dampened my spirits even further.

We left the mall without stopping to eat as we’d planned on doing. When we made it to my SUV, we hopped in and drove away from the senseless episode we’d just experienced. Leaving wouldn’t erase what had happened, but at least we’d be able to move on to something else.

We entered the tollway, and I decided that it was best to tell my mother straight out about David and me. I’d managed to feign a genuine smile for hours, but she hadn’t noticed once that anything was wrong. Usually she sensed when something wasn’t right, but I’d
worked hard at disguising my problems because I didn’t have the courage and because I’d wanted us to enjoy our time together without worry. But so much for enjoyment, something we’d obviously been deprived of, anyway.

“I found out last night that David is seeing someone else.”

“You what?”

“He’s seeing another woman, and he made it very clear that he’s not going to stop.”

“When did all this come about?”

“I don’t know, and he wouldn’t give me any details.”

“You should have
made
him tell you.”

“I guess I didn’t press the issue because it really doesn’t matter to me when it started.”

“Who is this woman?” I could tell Mom was becoming upset.

“He wouldn’t tell me that either.”

“And you’re just going to leave it like that?”

“Actually, I am, because there’s nothing I can do about it. I tried to reconcile with him two nights ago, and that never made a bit of difference to him. So, as painful as it is, I know I can make it without him if I have to. David and I have been moving further and further away from each other for a long time, so really, I should have seen this coming before now.”

“How did you find out?”

“I walked outside to get the mail right after I came home from Monica’s and heard him talking to someone on his cell phone. He was still sitting in the garage with his engine turned off, but hadn’t closed the garage door.”

“Lord Jesus,” Mom said, sighing. “What are you going to do?”

“Nothing. Because it’s pretty clear that he wants to be with someone else.”

“I just don’t believe this is happening. The least he could have done was stand by you until your job situation was taken care of.”

“He doesn’t care about any of that. And if you ask him, he’ll say that my career is part of the reason why he strayed in the first place.
Which I have to agree with to a certain extent, because it has been my priority for a long time.”

“That still doesn’t give anyone the right to mess around.”

“Maybe not, but this is what the reality is, and I’m willing to live with it if this is what he wants.”

“You’re taking this a lot better than I would be.”

“I know, Mom, but David and I don’t love each other the way we used to. It’s almost like we love each other but we’re not
in
love any longer.”

“I just hate to see anyone going through a breakup. Especially my own daughter. When your father and I separated, it was the hardest thing I ever had to deal with, and I don’t wish the way I felt on anybody I can think of. Not even that girl back at that store.”

“I know it won’t be easy, but this is out of my control.”

“So have you spoken with him today?”

“No, I haven’t seen or heard from him since he packed his stuff and left.”

“Packed his stuff and left? As in for good?”

“Yeah. And I doubt he’ll be back except to get the rest of his things.”

“I can’t believe he just up and left you like that.”

“Actually, he didn’t have a choice, because I told him to get out or else.”

“I’m so sorry that all this is happening” was all Mom could say.

We rode in silence for almost twenty minutes as Chicago’s V103 played two of Luther’s new cuts back-to-back. She was hurting for me the way any mother would, but I vowed to overcome this the same as I had overcome every other obstacle in my life. She’d raised me to be strong, independent and self-confident, and while she worried about how I was going to make it on my own, she would soon learn that the reason I’d be able to was that she’d taught me how to survive, regardless of the situation.

In time, I was going to be just fine.

I
T WAS
M
ONDAY MORNING
, and it had taken every ounce of willpower I had to tear myself out of bed, take a shower, get dressed and drive to work. David hadn’t made any attempts to call, so I’d had a load of time on my hands to do a whole lot of thinking. I’d weighed everything out and had come to the same two decisions I’d shared with Mom on Friday: I wasn’t moving out of our house, and I was filing a lawsuit against Reed Meyers if they forced me to. I was sure the reason David hadn’t called was that he still regretted being caught the way he had been, and that he wanted to make me feel so alone that maybe I’d get lonely enough to pack my bags and go live with my mother. But I wasn’t going to make things that easy for him. I would agree to a divorce if he filed, but the dissolution of our marriage was going to mean fifty-fifty from top to bottom. I’d worked just as hard as he had to obtain all that we owned, and he wasn’t going to simply push me aside, move
on and allow God knows who to take my place.

I’d convinced myself all weekend that I didn’t care who the next
Mrs. David Miller might be, but deep down I was being destroyed by curiosity. I wanted to know if she was his secretary, one of his coworkers, a colleague or possibly a client, but I finally realized last night that what I wanted to know most of all was whether this mistress was a white woman. Successful black men did this all the time. They always started out with black women, who were good enough as long as the men were still struggling to build their careers. But once their bank balances escalated and their image needed to be upgraded, successful black men jumped ship. Sometimes they tried to keep the obvious on the down-low by marrying a biracial or even a Hispanic woman, but eventually they went all the way and found a beautiful white woman—the prize they’d been working so hard to secure. For years, I wondered why a huge majority of the black NBA, NFL and MLB players thought it was so important to marry outside of their
race. If it was strictly for love, I totally understood and agreed with their decision. But what I finally figured out was that marrying a white woman announced loud and clear that they’d finally arrived in terms of status. It made them feel more important and like they could finally receive just a tad more respect than they’d ever had with a black woman.

I saw nothing wrong with any two people of any race becoming man and wife so long as they were madly in love with each other. But when the marriage was based on status, I didn’t agree. I’d formed this opinion the same day I asked my forty-year-old cousin why he’d suddenly made a change in preference. He’d always dated black girls in high school, black women in college and then married a black woman who paid all the bills the entire time he attended medical school. But five years ago, he divorced his first wife and married a white woman. He’d looked me straight in the face and told me that there was so much more his new wife could do to help his career. He was invited to all the VIP parties and dinners, his practice was better than ever, and if it hadn’t been for his new wife,
there was no telling what his children would have ended up looking like. Not to mention the fact that their hair would have been much too nappy.

He’d convinced himself that he was no longer black, and I remember telling him how pathetic he was and how at some point in his life he would be reminded of who he really was.

It wasn’t six months later when someone mailed him an anonymous note saying:
WE HATE NIGGERS AND EVEN WORSE, NIGGER LOVERS. SO WHY DON’T YOU DO THIS NICE NEIGHBORHOOD A FAVOR AND MOVE BACK TO WHEREVER THE HELL YOU CAME FROM
.

He hadn’t been emotionally stable ever since.

The phone grabbed my attention when it rang, and I reached over to answer it. “Anise Miller.”

“Anise, it’s me,” David said in a low tone.

“And?”

I wasn’t going to make this conversation simple.

“I really don’t know where to begin,” he said, pausing.

“Well, I can’t help you with that, David.”

He blew a sigh of frustration.

Then he spoke.

“I didn’t mean for you to find out like this. I was going to tell you, but it seemed like the more I got involved with her, the harder it was to face you.”

“Well, the damage is done, and while you were having, I’m sure, such a fun weekend, I sat at home alone, thinking about the fact that our marriage is over.”

“All I can say is that I’m sorry. I wanted things to turn out differently, but they didn’t.”

“So why are you calling now?”

“I want to explain all of this to you.”

“What is it that you think you need to explain? How many different positions you’ve screwed her in?”

“Anise, please. Why do you always have to be so boorish?”

“Boorish?” I laughed, but my tone was sarcastic. “Since when did you start using
that
as an everyday word?”

“It’s in the dictionary, isn’t it?”

“So is antidisestablishmentarianism, but I don’t go around using it when I’m talking to my friends and family members.”

“Just because you don’t know what it means, don’t—”

I interrupted him. “It means rude, ill-mannered, impolite, crude, uncouth—do you want me to continue? Hell, you’re not the only person in America who graduated from college with honors. I know you think you are, but the joke is on you.”

“See, it’s this very type of thing that made me find interest in another woman.”

“What? You mean because I don’t take any shit from you, and I call you on every ignorant comment you make? Or is it because I don’t act white enough for you?”

“Maybe if you did, you wouldn’t be crying over a damn job every single year.”

“Well, if I have to act like someone else to get promoted, then I’m S-O-L, because I’m never going to disown who I am. I’m intelligent, professional and experienced at what I do, so that’s all that should be considered.”

“Hmmph. But you see none of that has made any difference, now has it?”

“Look,” I finally said, losing patience. “If there’s something you want to say, then say it. Otherwise I need to get back to work.”

“Let’s just forget it. Pretend like I didn’t even call.”

“Fine. I will.”

I prepared to hang up, but deep down I wanted to know who this new love of his life was. So I asked.

“David?”

“What?”

“Who is she?”

“Why does it matter to you so much?”

“Because I think I have a right to know.”

“What do you want to do, harass her? Because I don’t want her dealing with anything like that.”

That pissed me off.

“First of all, neither you nor she is worth the trouble,” I shot back, but it hurt knowing that he was more concerned about her feelings than he was about mine.

“Her name is Christina, and I met her at one of the golf courses I go to.”

“Oh really? Well, at least now you have a woman who likes to play the game.”

“She doesn’t play. She works inside the clubhouse.”

“So what are you saying?”

I knew exactly what he meant, but I wanted to hear it from him.

“I’m saying that she works at the golf course, and it doesn’t matter to me that she doesn’t have a degree like you.”

“You finally found someone who will do whatever you want when you want her to, didn’t you?”

“I guess I did, didn’t I?”

“Did you finally get your white girl, too?” I spoke sternly.

“As a matter of fact, I did.”

Even though I half expected it, his words struck me like a flying baseball.

“I know that’s not what you wanted to hear, but I can’t help that I’ve always preferred white women,” he said. “I grew up with white people. I went to school with them, and that’s who I feel the most comfortable with.”

“Then why did you marry me, David?” I heard myself ask.

“Partly because I really did fall in love with you, and partly because I knew my colleagues weren’t ready to see me with a white wife six years ago.”