The Bishop's Daughter (22 page)
I feel my blood start to boil and my hand ball into a fist. But I’m not going to do this, not here. I throw my hand up and dismiss Oscar. “Dude, go on ’head with that.” I leave Oscar standing there scowling and head to my truck in the parking lot. Dorcas is on her way into the church. What do you know? The gang’s all here.
“Hi, Darrin.”
“What’s going on, Dorcas?”
“You all right? You’re all red in the face.”
I take a deep breath. “I’m cool.”
“Have you heard the latest?”
I laugh. “I don’t think I’m in anyone’s circle right now. The latest about what?”
“Emoni and Oscar are dating.”
I’m blinking and shaking my head. “What?”
“Yes. Ophelia says he asked Bishop’s permission on Thanksgiving.”
So Emoni gets mad at me and up and says yes to that fool. No wonder he wants me to go back to Cleveland.
“Well, I hope they’re happy.”
“Me, too,” says Dorcas.
I need to end this conversation so I can go somewhere and think or sulk. Mostly sulk. “I’ll see you around, Dorcas.”
“That sounds like a goodbye.”
I smile and wave. Maybe it is goodbye. I don’t know. I can’t think beyond this moment. I finally find a woman I want to treat the right way, and I mess that up.
Maybe Oscar is right. If I go back to Cleveland, everything will be cool. Emoni will end up marrying Oscar, Dorcas will find a man to make her happy, and no one will ever know about Bishop’s secret.
I get in my truck and grasp the steering wheel, trying to decide what to do. When I feel myself crying, I know this situation is beyond my expertise. I start praying. Don’t know how to do it like the professional church warriors—I can only say what’s in my heart: God, I don’t know if you sent me here. I just know that I’ve been trying to do the right thing, and it’s all turning out wrong. Will you show me what to do? Lead me and guide me, because I seem to be making a mess of my life. Thank you, in Jesus’ name.
Emoni
M
other and Daddy have invited Oscar for lunch, so we can talk about his foolish outburst on Thanksgiving. Sister Ophelia has done her job informing everyone, because I got several congratulations from the church mothers on Sunday.
“Bishop, you don’t know how honored I am to have your blessing.”
“You only have my blessing if this is something that Emoni wants.”
Everyone looks at me, and I shrug. “I haven’t decided one way or the other.”
Bishop says, “If you ladies will excuse us, I’d like to have a talk with Oscar alone.”
Mother and I clear the table and go into the kitchen to clean up. She’s looking at me like she wants to have one of those mother-daughter moments. I don’t feel like having a moment.
“Emoni …”
Oh, no. Here it comes. “Yes?”
“You don’t want to date him, do you?” she asks in a whisper.
“I don’t know, Mother.”
“Did you want to date Darrin?”
I sigh heavily. “Yes, but he lied to me.”
“He lied. Did you talk it out with him?”
“Yes, he admitted that he was wrong. But Mother … it was horrible, what he did.”
Mother nods thoughtfully. “So he made a mistake and admitted it?”
“Yes, but it was too little, too late. Then he was with his ex on Thanksgiving.”
Mother sits down at the kitchen dinette. “Emoni, come over here and sit down.”
“I really don’t want to talk about this. I know what I’m doing.”
“Come here and listen to this before you make a mistake you’re going to regret.”
I slump down in one of the hard wrought-iron chairs. I don’t want to hear my mother’s advice or anyone else’s. She’s beautiful
and
married to a man who loves her. What can she say to me?
“Emoni, I’m not going to tell you not to date Oscar.”
“You’re not?”
“No, but I do think you should make sure things are over with Darrin. Don’t go into something with Oscar with unresolved feelings.”
I cross my arms over my chest. “I don’t have any unresolved feelings.”
“Only you know that for sure. But if you do, at the first sign of trouble with you and Oscar—and there will be trouble—you’ll start thinking you should’ve made another choice.”
“Oscar has never lied to me.”
Mother reaches across the table and asks, “But does he make your heart sing? Can you see yourself spending forever with him?”
I don’t answer her. I can’t answer. Seriously, Oscar doesn’t make me feel anything. Darrin was beginning to make me feel that way, though we weren’t together long enough for me to know for sure.
“I think I can learn to love Oscar.”
“Or you could learn to hate him,” Mother replies as she gets up from the table.
She leaves me alone with my thoughts. I find myself thinking of how Darrin’s lips felt on mine and how much joy he got out of cooking meals for me. I miss the feeling of anticipation when I knew I was going to see him; the almost sick feeling in the pit of my stomach that was a mix of excitement and adrenaline. I’m glad when Sascha bursts into the kitchen and snaps me back to reality.
She asks, “Did you look at those dresses I picked out?”
“Yes. Any of them are fine for me.”
“Are you and Oscar going out later? I’m nosy.”
“I guess” is my listless reply.
“Girl, what is wrong with you? You sure don’t sound excited about it.”
“Maybe I’m just having a bad day.”
“Humph. Maybe you’re just not excited about the man.”
“Is it that obvious? Mother said something similar.”
“I mean, yeah, Emoni. It’s obvious.”
“Well, I’m dating him. Who needs all that excitement, anyway? It’s only lust. Oscar is the right decision.”
Sascha’s eyes narrow. “You don’t feel
any
lust toward Oscar? Not even a little?”
“No!”
“What about Darrin? Bet you felt some lust toward him.”
“Seriously, are we even having this conversation?”
“You don’t have to listen to me …”
I laugh again. This is something I already know.
Emoni
M
other actually got to me with her little “unresolved issues” speech. I think that if I know everything is over and done with Darrin, I’ll feel so much better about seeing Oscar.
So I’m sitting in my car outside of Darrin’s apartment. I’m planning to go and ring his buzzer as soon as I think of an excuse to be here. I can’t just pop up here, seeming all desperate. That is not a good look at all.
I forgot. The DNA results. How could I have forgotten about them? In the midst of all these breakups, the whole idea that I might have another brother has been relegated to the back burner of my life.
Now that I’ve got my reason, I hurry up to the apartment and ring the doorbell. I shift my weight from leg to leg as I wait for a response. I scan the parking lot from inside. His car is here, so why isn’t he answering?
“Who is it?” I finally hear through the crackling loudspeaker.
“It’s Emoni.”
There is a
very
distinct pause before the door unlocks to let me up. Usually, there is someone else going into the building, and I don’t have to ring Darrin’s buzzer. But since we’re not exactly on speaking terms, it would seem somewhat rude for me to show up at his door. That’s something Dorcas or Oscar would do.
I rap lightly on the door after getting off the elevator and walking down the hall. Darrin opens the door wearing a bathrobe and smelling of a manly fragranced body wash. Sascha’s words about lust come to mind, but I push them away.
He doesn’t invite me in.
“Hi, Darrin. How are you?”
“Good. You need something?”
Wow. I need to go and grab my winter coat for the arctic wind that just blew out of Darrin’s door.
“Um, I was wondering if you got those DNA results back. I’d really like to know about Kumal Jr.”
“Yes. I got them back and hand-delivered them to Bishop Prentiss.”
“Why did you give them to him?”
“Because it was his business and not mine.”
“I see.”
Darrin asks impatiently, “Anything else?”
“Well, dag, Darrin! Aren’t you a little bit happy to see me?” I feel my anger rising. He’s supposed to be glad to see me!
“Why would I get excited about seeing another man’s woman?”
“About that …”
“You don’t owe me an explanation.”
“Are you going to invite me in?” I ask hopefully.
“No.”
“Why? Do you have a woman in there?”
Darrin laughs. “You are welcome to think that, if you want.”
“No, seriously. What about your date from Thanksgiving? She still in town?”
“Nope.”
“How can I take your word for it? You haven’t called since we had that argument. You rush out of church right after the service is over.”
Darrin has a small smile on his lips. “You said you were done with me. And now you’re dating Oscar. It looks like I was right not to call.”
He’s playing hardball, and I’m either too proud or too bullheaded to cave in. He wants me to say everything on my heart, but I’m not going to do it. He won’t hear that I miss him and that I wish I wasn’t even considering Oscar. He won’t hear any of that, because I’m leaving.
“All right, then, Darrin. Take care, okay?”
“You, too, Emoni.”
The tears are flowing before I even make it to my car. Even if my feelings aren’t resolved, his obviously are. The conversation we just had was like talking to a stranger.
I only wish I could erase my own feelings as easily as Darrin has.
Darrin
M
an, that was the hardest thing I’ve ever done in my life.”
I’m talking to my boy Leon. This situation is getting too complicated for even my skills. I’m not ashamed to use all kinds of slang: I’m caught up, Emoni’s got me twisted, she’s got me open, etc. …
“So let me get this straight. She came to your crib, and you sent her packing?”
“Yeah, man. I think it was the right thing to do.”
Leon asks, “Why? Just because she’s dating that other dude?”
“Yeah, because she’s dating that other dude.”
“But she came to you, right? She wanted you to talk her out of kicking it with old boy.”
“Or maybe she needed to make sure we were done. I let her off the hook.”
“Do you love her?”
“Man …”
“Do you love the girl?”
“Yeah. I love her.”
But do I love her more than Oscar does? Would I be better for her? Maybe loving her means letting the best man win.
“Shayna wouldn’t put you through all these changes. She really digs you, man.”
“Shayna! Please. She just digs my parents’ money. When I tell her I’m going to chef school, she’ll drop me like a dummy.”
“Dude, you down there wilding out! Chef school? I thought you was playing.”
If my boy doesn’t even take me seriously, I know Big Mathis is going to laugh in my face. But I’m preparing myself for that conversation. Christmas at the Bainbridge mansion is going to be more like the Fourth of July. Fireworks are a given.
“I was not playing. You know I like to cook.”
“Man, that’s a hobby.”
“Tell that to Emeril or Wolfgang Puck.”
Leon laughs. “Ain’t both of them white dudes? Black men ain’t chefs, man!”
“Okay … Isaac Hayes on
South Park
?” I ask with a chuckle.
“Him and Tom Cruise is boys. He might be an honorary white dude.”
That’s why I called Leon. Even if he can’t help me make the right decision, he can make me laugh. I need something comedic right about now, because this Emoni situation is downright tragic.
“Man, you’ve got to come over my parents’ house for Christmas,” I say.
Leon replies, “So I can watch Mathis explode when you tell him you’re going to cooking school? He’s gone call you all kinds of sissy.”
“That’s why I need you there. I think both of us could take him.”
“I can
take
you to the emergency room after he stomps your little scrawny self.”
“Man, you ain’t even right. As many times as I’ve had your back?”
“All right,” Leon acquiesces, “I’ll be there, but if things get crazy, I’m that dude who’s calling 911. Somebody has to live and tell the story.”
Emoni
H
ow is your dinner?” asks Oscar.
I didn’t listen to Mother or Sascha, and I agreed to at least a few dates with Oscar. Honestly, it hasn’t been
that
bad. Oscar is a gentleman, sometimes obsessively so, and he has a sense of humor. Okay, so it’s been kind of bad, but I’m trying to make lemonade out of these lemons.
He always lets me pick the restaurant. He says it’s because he wants me to be excited about our dates. I don’t seem excited enough, I guess. I’m trying really hard, though. And my having that un-conversation with Darrin truly helped Oscar’s case. He should probably be writing Darrin a thank-you note.
I take a huge bite of the medium-well steak and reply, “It’s fine.”
“You shouldn’t take such large bites,” Oscar remarks.
“Thanks, Dad.”
“I didn’t mean it like that. It’s just that I don’t want you to choke.”
I nod and roll my eyes. “Right, right.”
Right when I get ready to be okay with deciding to date Oscar, he goes and does something like this. He pulls out the armor-bearer Oscar. The one who thinks it is his major mission in life to protect the interests of Bishop Prentiss—including me.
“Do you want dessert?” Oscar asks with a sigh.
“No.”
He sighs again. Am I getting on his nerves? Whatever. Join the club. He’s signaled the waiter to take his dessert order. The cute waiter, who’s brown-skinned with thick pretty cornrows that touch his shoulders. I wish I had a tract or something, because I would invite him to church.
“You all want to order dessert?” the waiter asks.
“Yes,” says Oscar, “I’d like the crème brûlée.”
I roll my eyes again. He
would
pick an uptight dessert. “What do you suggest?” I ask the cute waiter, and yes, I am well aware of my flirtatious tone.
The waiter smiles. It is a welcoming and very sexy smile. “Well, for you I’d recommend something sweet, like the caramel brownie sundae. It’ll make you lick your fingers.”