Waiting to Exhale (48 page)

"To go for it."

"Well, then."

"Savannah. I was married for eleven years. I feel like I'm out of practice. You saw what happened right after my divorce was final."

"You went man-crazy."

"Not really. I wanted to test the water. To see if my shit still stunk." "And?"

"It still stinks. But this is different. I really liked James. That's what's so scary. I didn't plan on liking anybody too tough for a long time. I just got out of one bad situation."

"Look, girl. All men aren't as fucked up as John, so don't go putting them all in the same category. There's still some good ones out here. / haven't met any lately, but it sounds to me like you may have lucked up."

"I know." She sighed. "I don't know how much weight I should be putting on what I felt that night-that's all I'm saying. My divorce was final that day, remember? I was on a high."

"Yeah, I remember. That's when Kenneth was here."

"What do you think I should do? For real, Savannah."

"I just told you. But why don't you do this: Take a few days to think about it, but definitely tell him to come on out. For at least a week. You need to spend some time with this man. And he should definitely stay at a hotel. Tell him what your fears are, and see which way it goes."

"I guess that makes sense," she said.

"I mean, how do you feel when you think about him?"

"I'll put it this way: I haven't been able to wipe that night out of my mind to save my life, in spite of the little escapades I've had. I've never in my life felt the way James made me feel. Not even with John."

"Then call the man when you feel comfortable. But I'll tell you one thing: I wouldn't wait too long."

Geneva was sitting on her daughter's couch, sipping on a gin and tonic and braiding Onika's hair. Bernadine thought it was kind of strange when she asked if she could come over. Her mother hated that drive from Sun City, which was why Bernadine knew something was up. Geneva looked so nice in her pink jogging suit (although she didn't jog), and her hair glistened like steel wool.

"Be still," Geneva was saying to Onika. For some reason, th
e c
hild hadn't shed a tear. She was sitting and coloring, watching All Dogs Go to Heaven at the same time. Onika was never like this when Bernadine did her hair. "I'm moving back to Philadelphia."

"What?" Bernadine said. She was standing in front of the stove, squeezing fresh lime juice over a skillet of sizzling scallions and veal shanks.

"You heard me."

"But why?" Bernadine asked, wiping her hands on a dishtowel.

"Because," her mother sighed, "I'm bored to death out here. I don't have any friends, and I'm tired of all these white folks. Don't get me wrong; it's not that I don't like 'em, but I'm tired of not being around my own people. I'm so sick of playing bridge and pinochle and shuffleboard and doing that damn water aerobics class, I don't know what to do. I'm lonely out there. And it's too damn hot. At first I thought I'd get used to it, but my electric bill is always so high, I might as well be paying for heat."

"Well, when did you decide all this?"

"I've been planning it since June. I wanted to make all the arrangements before I told you, 'cause you've been going through enough changes yourself this year. I didn't want to add nothing else to it. And plus, I didn't want you to talk me out of this."

"Why would I do that, Ma? You know what's best for you. To tell the truth, I never knew how you could stand it out here in the first place."

"I'm moving in with Mabel."

"Aunt Mabel?"

"Yep," she said, and patted Onika on the head. "There, baby, you look jazzy now."

"Thank you, Granny," she said. Onika got up from the floor and trotted off to her room, her braids flopping back and forth.

"Why would you want to live with Aunt Mabel?"

"Don't say it like that. I know she can be an evil old bitch, but she's still my sister. And ever since Milton passed away, Mabel's lonely as hell too. We could keep each other company. And I know how to make her laugh. She finally sold that raggedy-ass house. So me and her went in together and bought us a two-bedroom cond o r ight in the heart of town, where it's clean and safe and we'll be close to everything."

"Well, damn. When are you planning on moving?"

"We closed yesterday. I'll be out of here by the fifteenth of November."

"That's less than a month away."

"I wish I could leave today. I've got a million things to do between now and then. And I want my grandkids to spend a weekend with me before I leave. Not their daddy's weekend, of course."

"They'd like that," Bernadine said, lying. She knew she'd have to blackmail them to go.

"Whatever that is you're cooking sure smells good."

"It's veal. There's rice in this pot, zucchini in here, and I'm about to make a quick salad. If you'd be kind enough to set the table, we'll be ready to eat in about twenty minutes."

"You think the kids'll be mad if I don't go roller-skating with you all after we eat?"

"It only lasts about an hour, Ma."

"I know, but you know I don't like being on the highway at night."

"Then don't worry about it. John junior wants to try out his new Rollerblades. I've been so busy these past few months, I haven't been spending enough time with the kids. This was my bright idea."

"Are you planning on skating too?"

"Yes, I am."

"When was the last time you been on roller skates?"

"I can't remember. Some things you don't forget how to do."

"Well, I hope the next time I see you, you ain't got no cast on your leg," Geneva said, and started laughing. She took a sip from her drink. "Has anybody been by to look at the house?"

"Three people, two days ago. All in the same day."

"Any of 'em seem interested?"

"I don't know yet. I haven't heard anything back from the . realtors."

"Well, I sure hope somebody buys this sucker, and quick."

"Me too," Bernadine said.

"What you gon' do if it don't sell anytime soon?"

"I don't know," Bernadine said. "I'll cross that bridge when I get to it."

"I called him!" Bernadine said to Savannah. "And?"

"He's coming." "When when when?" "Early next month." "When next month?" "November fourth."

"Shit, I'll be in Las Vegas at a conference. How long is he staying?"

"At least a week. He's leaving his ticket open, girl." "Get out of here?"

"I'm not kidding. I'm so scared I don't know what to do." "That's a good sign," Savannah said. "A real good sign." "What if I don't feel the same? What if I don't even like the way he looks?"

"You're starting to sound like Robin. It's how he makes you feel that counts. Not how he looks. You liked the way he looked the first time, didn't you?" "Yeah."

"So don't worry about it. I think this is so exciting." "I need to get a pedicure. My heels are crusty as hell." "Then do it," Savannah said. "And get my teeth cleaned." "Call the dentist today."

"And I need to . . . Shit, girl, I can't even think straight." "Well?" Savannah groaned. "Well, what?"

"Aren't you going to wish me happy birthday?" "Birthday? Did I forget your birthday? Is it today?" "It was yesterday."

"Yesterday? Shit! I'm sorry, girl. Why didn't you remind me? Damn. What'd you do to celebrate?" "Took myself out to dinner."

"You mean you went by yourself?"

"Yeah."

"Why didn't you call some damn body?"

"Because I wanted to be by myself."

"That's messed up, Savannah."

"It wasn't so bad. I went to the gym first, then to dinner, came home, gave myself a manicure and a facial, and went to sleep."

"You should've at least called me, damn."

"Girl, on my birthday, I like to think about what I'm doing with my life. What I've done so far. And what I should do next."

"And what's the verdict?"

"Last year I made this stupid New Year's resolution."

"Which was what?"

"That I wasn't spending another birthday or major holiday by myself."

"Well . . ."

"Well, I spent the Fourth of July with you and the kids, Labor Day with you and the kids, and you know the rest. Anyway, I told myself I was going to meet Mr. Right before 1991 kicked in. But fuck it. Since I left Denver, I haven't met a soul I'm crazy about. Nothing but a few no-name creeps. So I made up my mind, girl."

"About what?"

"That I might have to get used to the idea of being by myself."

"This doesn't sound like the optimistic Savannah I know."

"I'm not being pessimistic; I'm being realistic. I have to accept the fact that there's a chance I may not ever get married or have a baby. If I do, cool. But I can't spend the rest of my life worrying about the shit or waiting for it to happen. I'm serious. I did get a few cards, and a dozen roses from Kenneth."

"He sent you roses?"

"Yeah. But I'm not impressed."

"I don't see why not. Have you talked to him?"

"He left a message on the machine. I told you, I'm not getting . involved with that man. One more trip out here, and we'd be having an affair. I had to stop the shit before it went any further."

"He said he wanted to leave his wife, Savannah."

"They all say that, Bernadine."

"John left me for Kathleen, didn't he? So it's not like it can't happen."

"It's too complicated."

"Well, look. I know you'll meet somebody. You haven't even been here a year."

"I know that, but I've also been alive for thirty-seven."

"Birthdays can depress the hell out of anybody."

"I'm not depressed. As a matter of fact, I feel pretty damn good. And I mean that. To be honest with you, I do believe in my heart that I will meet him. I just don't know when. I know it won't be until I honestly accept the fact that I'm okay all by myself. That I can survive, that I can feel good being Savannah Jackson, without a man. I'm not holding my breath anymore, looking around every corner, hoping ^'11 be there. If he"s out there, we'll find each other. When we're supposed to. That's all I'm saying."

"You haven't met any decent men since you've been here?"

"Yeah, I've met some decent men but none that light my fire."

"I hear you."

"Anyway, I can't put my life on hold, waiting for a damn man. And by the way, I got offered a shot at this assistant producer's job at the station."

"Really? What's with you, Savannah? Why're you keeping everything such a big damn secret all of a sudden? What took you so long to tell me this shit? I tell you everything."

"I wanted to make sure it was in the works first. Have you seen that black talk show called The Black Board?"

"Girl, that show comes on at six o'clock on Sunday mornings, doesn't it?"

"Yeah."

"No. I can't lie. I haven't seen it."

"Well, I don't care what time it comes on. They're letting me coproduce a show on a trial basis."

"No shit?"

"No shit. Apparently nobody watches the damn show, so they're trying to restructure it."

"So what'll you have to do?"

"Well, first of all, I have to develop new ideas for a better format
,
which is no problem. I've watched about eight videos, and it is tired. Basically, they want me to come up with a list of potential guests that I think would be interesting to black folks. For my trial show, I'm only supposed to pick one. I'm thinking about asking some of the board members-no pun intended-from BWOTM. Gloria's on the top of my list."

"That sounds real good."

"So I have to write a script, figure out what questions the host should ask-you know, let the viewers know the kind of stuff they're doing, that kind of shit. I think it'll be fun."

"What's your chances of getting the job?"

"I don't know. There's two other people, from other stations, that were asked to do the same thing I'm doing. We'll see. If it's meant to be, it'll be."

"Well, shit, I'll keep my fingers crossed for you, girl. Sounds promising at least. What about Robin and Gloria? You heard from them?"

"I haven't talked to Gloria in a few days, but Robin's in Tucson."

"Her daddy's not in the hospital, is he?"

"I don't think so. But he's not doing so good."

"I bet they'll have to go ahead and put him in a nursing home. It's like a nightmare, what her mother's going through. Robin's been dealing with it pretty good, if you ask me."

"Yeah. It's sad, though. I don't know what I'd do if something like this was to ever happen to my mama."

"I thank God mine is still in good health and has all her faculties."

"Mine too," Savannah said. "As a matter of fact, I'm sending her one of my frequent flier tickets. She's been bugging me to death about coming out here. She wants to come for Thanksgiving, but I volunteered to go down to that church with BWOTM to help feed the homeless, so Christmas'll be better. Three thousand more miles, and I was going to London. But fuck it. I haven't seen my mama in over a year. She could use a break from my brother, and I could use the company around the holidays."