When Solomon Sings (9 page)

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Authors: Kendra Norman-Bellamy

BOOK: When Solomon Sings
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“Okay, can you at least listen to the whole story before you draw conclusions?” When the deacon said nothing, Neil accepted that as permission to continue, and his words flowed like water from a faucet. “I was so ready to propose, Deacon Burgess. At first, I was gonna wait for Christmas; it's only a couple of weeks away and seemed like the perfect holiday to get engaged. But then I thought, why wait? So Monday, during my lunch break, I went to the jewelry store and purchased the ring. By the time I got off work, I had planned it all out. Had it all set for Tuesday. I didn't tell anybody because I didn't want any added pressure. I just asked my mother to babysit Chase—that's Shay's son—for a couple of hours while we shared a private dinner at my house. Two hours,” he reiterated. “That's all I needed.”
When Neil stopped to catch his breath, Deacon Burgess said, “Go on.” It was the first sign of life in a while from the other end of the line.
“Everything was perfect,” Neil said. “Shay was beautiful. . . downright killing that outfit she was wearing. And a brotha wasn't looking too bad either, if I do say so myself.”
“What were you wearing?” Deacon Burgess asked.
“A Ralph Lauren number I purchased back in February. I wore it for the men's ministry conference banquet. You kept telling me how sharp I was in it, remember?” Neil knew he wouldn't.
“That brown one that almost feels like silk?” Shocked at the deacon's recall, Neil said, “That's the one.”
“Yes. Very good choice.” Deacon Burgess sounded impressed.
“I'm telling you, I was on it. Everything was perfect.”
“What y'all had for dinner?”
“Stuffed salmon.”
“Humph. That's city folk food. I'd rather have food from the country, like plain ol' fried catfish, but was the salmon good?”
“My mama cooked it. And she's from the backwoods of Mississippi, so what do you think?”
“Have mercy,” Homer replied. “Okay ... clothes was good; food was good. What about the lighting? Did you light a few candles?”
Neil was taken aback that a man of Homer's years would ask such a question. “As a matter of fact, yes. Nothing but the candles on the dining room table and the Christmas tree lights in the adjoining living room.”
“Good ... good,” he said in approval. “Music?”
Grinning, Neil was suddenly seeing Homer Burgess as an old-school playa. Even at ninety-two, he had enough good looks to prove that he had been quite the handsome one back in the day. “Remember the brother who played the saxophone at the Valentine's Dance that the church had last year?” Neil knew for sure that Deacon Burgess wouldn't be able to think back that far, so he just continued without awaiting a reply. “His name is Antonio Allen, and I bought his
Forever & Always
CD at that dance. I knew Shay loved it, so I played it during dinner.”
“Sounds like you thought it all out real good.”
“Deac, I'm telling you, there was nothing I could have done to make it better.” Neil ran his hand over his low haircut. Reliving how much thought and effort he'd put into the evening was making it all seem even more hopeless. In essence, he had given it his best, and his best wasn't good enough. “The mood, the dinner, the ambiance ... it was all flawless. I had the ring tucked in the inside pocket of my suit jacket, and I was sixty seconds away from kneeling when I saw it.”
“Saw what?”
Neil tried to shake the snapshot from his head, but couldn't. “When I talked to Pastor Loather last Sunday, this is what we talked about. And the thing he said to me that made the most sense was when he brought it to my attention that seven years after Emmett Ford died, Shay was still wearing his ring. It wasn't until after she met and fell in love with me that she removed it. The more I thought about that, the bigger deal it became.”
“My, oh my,” Homer said. “They say actions speak louder than words, and that sounds like action that was using a bullhorn, if you ask me.”
“Yeah. I thought so too.”
“What you mean, you
thought
so? You say she was wearing that man's ring all them years after she buried him, and she stopped when she met you. What else you want from her?”
“I want her to stop wearing his ring. He was her husband. She loved him. I understand all that, and because of it, I'm willing to compromise on some things, but not this. As long as she's wearing his ring, she can't wear mine.”
After a brief silence, Homer said, “But I thought she already stopped wearing his ring.”
“I thought so too, until Tuesday night.” Neil clenched and unclenched his jaws. “She hasn't stopped wearing it; she just changed where she wears it. Emmett Ford's ring now dangles from a chain that Shay wears around her neck.”
“Say what?”
The knot that formed in Neil's stomach was so tight that he felt like he would vomit. Just like on Tuesday night. “Don't make me repeat it.”
“You seen it?” Homer's voice had dropped to a near whisper.
“Even the low lighting couldn't hide the haunting sparkle of that thing.” Neil grunted. “The worst part about it was the timing. We had just finished eating dessert, and she said, ‘I've never kissed you after peach cobbler before. I wonder what that tastes like.' That threw me, because she'd never said anything quite that sexy to me before. It was quite the turn-on, I might add.”
“My temperature just rose a hundred degrees from hearing it,” Homer injected.
Neil would have laughed, but he had no laugh left. “When she stood to lean across the table to kiss me, that's when I saw it.” He grabbed a stress ball from the credenza behind his desk and began squeezing it as he continued. “The necklace slipped from behind the collar of her sweater. I saw the object dangling at the bottom of her chain when it first fell out, but I was too busy looking at her mouth that was closing in on me to recognize what the object on the end of the chain was. But when the kiss ended, and she pulled back to return to her seat, the light from one of the candles caught the diamond, and when that rock sparkled, it darn near burned my corneas.”
“And what happened then?” Deacon Burgess sounded guarded, like he was bracing himself for Neil's answer. “You ain't snap or nothing, did you?”
Neil shook his head. “You know me well enough to know that's not my style, Deac. I didn't even mention it, but it totally killed my mood.
Totally.”
“Once words come out your mouth, you can't never take ‘em back. So even though you was mad, I'm glad you didn't say nothing you would've regretted. Ain't nothin' worse than living wit' regrets, son. I'm glad you kept enough sense not to go off on her.”
“I didn't go off on her, but I didn't propose to her, either.” Neil wondered if he would live to regret that too. “I ended the evening earlier than planned. Within ten minutes of seeing that ring, I literally got sick to my stomach. I was supposed to drive out to Ms. Ella Mae's and get Chase once our date ended, but I was too sick to do that. And Shay was trying to make it better, but she was only making it worse.”
“Worse how?”
“She was being all caring and attentive. She offered her lap for me to lay my head in, and she kept trying to rub the pain from my stomach with her hand. She even prayed for me.”
“Well, I'm old, and a long time done went by since I dated Odette. I know a lot done changed 'tween then and now, but back in my day, that would've been a good thing.”
“But I didn't need her to be there for me, Deac. What I needed her to do for me was leave. Don't you get it? Her presence was what was making me ill. I don't care how much laying on of hands and praying she did; I wasn't gonna feel any better until she left my house and took Emmett with her.”
It was a while before Homer replied, and for the first time ever, Neil felt like somebody might actually understand where he was coming from.
Deacon Burgess released a labored sigh before he finally spoke. “So what you plan to do now?”
“I don't know.” Neil was being honest. He had no idea what his next move would be.
“Have you talked to her since your dinner?”
“No, sir.”
“She got to know something's up with you, Deacon Taylor. Don't you call her on a regular basis?”
“Yeah. Every single day.” Most days, Neil called her more than once.
Another sigh from Homer blew into the phone. “I'm surprised she ain't called you.”
“Actually, she has,” Neil admitted after a moment of hesitation. “She called last night, but I didn't answer, and she didn't leave a message. Plus, she picks up Chase after school every day. Yesterday I left early so that I could make it to the jewelry store to return the ring before they closed, so I wasn't here when she picked him up. Today, when it's about time for her to arrive, I'll find something outside of my office to do to make myself scarce and unavailable.”
“What you sayin', son? You breakin' up with that pretty girl?”
“I ... I don't know.” Just the thought of ending his relationship with Shaylynn made his heart hurt. Neil actually felt like crying.
“Returning that ring makes it sound so over and done wit',” Deacon Burgess pointed out. “You ought to really rethink this thing. Like I said, some things you can't take back once you say 'em. Don't do something you gonna live to regret.”
“I don't know. Maybe we just ... Maybe we just need a break from each other.” Neil couldn't believe the words that were coming out of his own mouth. A break from Shaylynn? Just the two days that had passed without him seeing or speaking to her was killing him.
“What you need to do is talk to each other,” Homer said, now sounding like the voice of CJ.
“Talk
to her, son. Stop being a coward.”
Neil rubbed his forehead. Deacon Burgess was name-calling again, and although Neil knew for certain that he was no coward, he chose not to interrupt.
“Tell that girl just how this whole dead husband thing is rubbin' you,” Homer continued. “If it's one thing I learned in twenty years of marriage to Esther and forty-one years of marriage to Odette, it's that talkin' to each other is important in any relationship.
Talk to her
.”
“You know what the scariest part about this is, Deac?” Neil stared at Shaylynn's name and face as they flashed on the screen of his BlackBerry, indicating that she was calling him yet again. “Whether I have that heart-to-heart talk with Shay or take the cowardly way out ... either way, I have a feeling that I'm gonna lose her, because if I give her the ultimatum of wearing his ring or mine, she'll choose his in a heartbeat.”
EIGHT
“Hi, Solomon, this is Shay, calling to check up on you. I'm kind of worried that I haven't heard from you in the last couple of days. The last time I saw you, you weren't feeling well, and I just want to be sure you're doing okay. I'm guessing you're at least feeling better since Chase told me that you've been at work. When you get this message, please call me back. I love you. Bye.”
Shaylynn disconnected the call and dropped her cell phone in the pocket of her apron. Then she slipped her right hand back into the latex glove she'd removed just moments earlier and climbed back up the stepladder to resume working on her current assignment. This was the first time she had ever decorated a nursery, and although it was coming together nicely, Shaylynn would probably enjoy the process more if she weren't so consumed with thoughts of Neil.
Where is he, and why hasn't he called?
Once she was back at the top of the ladder, Shaylynn dipped the natural sponge into the golden yellow paint that she had stirred and poured into a sturdy paper plate, blotted the excess onto the newspaper that lay beside the paint, and then began carefully dabbing at the second of four walls that she had covered with two coats of red paint yesterday. Red, white, and gold. This was going to be the oddest-colored nursery she had ever seen, but both Shaylynn and the baby's mother had been unsuccessful in their attempts to talk the father out of it. Boy or girl, he'd said, this baby was going to be an Atlanta Hawks fan.
“I can't believe I'm actually starting to like the way these colors look in here.”
The voice behind Shaylynn startled her, and she had to catch herself so that she didn't take the short tumble from the ladder.
“Ooh, girl, please don't fall.” Theresa held out her hands as though she could have caught Shaylynn from the spot where she stood in the doorway. “Sorry. I didn't mean to scare you.”
Shaylynn felt flustered, embarrassed. “You didn't. I mean, you did, but I'm okay. I guess my mind was just somewhere else. I didn't hear you come in.” The floors were wooden, and Theresa was wearing mules. Shaylynn should have heard her approach. She used the sleeve of her smock to wipe away the perspiration that, at some point, had begun beading across her forehead in spite of the cool temperatures; then she looked around the room and tried to get the subject back on track. “It actually does look a lot better on the walls than it did in my head when Pastor Loather first described what he wanted.”
“Yeah, it does.” Theresa walked farther into the room. “You're doing a great job, Shay. I'm glad we took Neil's advice and hired you. After seeing the magic you worked on Ms. Ella Mae's house, I guess I shouldn't be so surprised. I think you've definitely found your calling.”
“Thank you.” It was a high compliment, and smiling shouldn't have been a chore, but the corners of Shaylynn's mouth just wouldn't cooperate, so she turned back to her task and again began dabbing the walls with her sponge.
“Are you okay?”
Shaylynn didn't break her eyes from the wall. “Yes, I'm fine.” Lying to her first lady probably wasn't helping the situation any.
“Are you sure?” Theresa pressed. When Shaylynn didn't answer, she added, “I'm not trying to pry or anything, I'm just concerned. You just seem a little distracted. I noticed it yesterday when you were here, but today it's even more obvious.”
Shaylynn took in a deep breath, and then released it before turning to look down at Theresa. The mother-to-be was glowing beautifully in her turquoise and black maternity sweater and black leggings. Her stomach appeared larger now than it did when Shaylynn arrived at the house two hours ago. Maybe it was just the angle at which she was currently viewing her. Although Theresa was her pastor's wife, and six years separated their ages, Shaylynn felt comfortable around her; more than she had with any other female in her life. Theresa never acted as though her status in the church made her untouchable. She acted more like a big sister than the first lady of one of the largest churches on the east-side of Atlanta. Even so, Shaylynn had never really confided in Theresa regarding anything as personal as her love life.
“Is everything okay between you and Neil?” She'd practically read Shaylynn's mind.
“Yes.” As soon as the word escaped Shaylynn's mouth, she made the decision that one lie to her first lady had been enough. She quickly followed that with a slow, “I think so,” and then again with an even less confident, “I guess.”
Theresa picked up the Atlanta Hawks blanket that was on the arm of the nearby rocking chair, wrapped it around herself, and then took a seat. All of the baby room furniture was white like the chair, but for now, it was the only piece of furniture in the room. Everything else was stacked in the corner of their den and would be moved in once Shaylynn finished painting. “You want to talk about it?”
Shaylynn remained on the stepladder, but she carefully laid the sponge on top of the newspaper. She did
want
to talk about it, but
should
she? Sharing her insecurities had never come naturally for Shaylynn. Life had handed her a multitude of reasons not to be so trusting of others, but desperation made her throw caution to the wind. “I think something's going on with him.”
Theresa tilted her head to the side. “Something?”
Shaylynn directed her eyes to the window she'd opened to help with ventilation. “Or maybe it's
someone
.” Her body shuttered when she said it. Maybe it was due to the cold air coming from the open window. Or maybe the chilling thoughts that were swarming in her head had caused it.
“What are you saying?” Concern laced Theresa's voice. “You're not suggesting that Neil is—”
“I don't know.” Shaylynn couldn't bear to hear the word released in the atmosphere. She didn't want to believe that Neil was capable of sneaking around behind her back. He'd wooed her tirelessly, and she'd finally given in to her heart's desire and allowed him in. Surely he wouldn't work that hard for her affections, and then turn around and do this.
Would he
? There had to be another explanation. “I have no idea what's going on with him. All I know is that we had a date Tuesday night, and everything was perfect. Candles, dinner, music ... at his house. Just the two of us. But I haven't heard a word from him since.” Shaylynn willed her tears to keep at bay. “He hasn't called me. He's not answering my calls. He hasn't been in his office when I go to pick up Chase. I think ... I think he's purposefully avoiding me.”
Theresa looked perplexed. “What did you talk about on Tuesday? Did you argue?”
“No. That's the part that makes this entire thing even more senseless. We didn't argue at all. Not even once. Like I said, the night was perfect. I mean, Solomon is spontaneous and he has great taste, so he and I always have wonderful dates, but Tuesday might have been our best. He went all out.” Shaylynn closed her eyes to recapture the images as she gave Theresa the CliffsNotes. “Ms. Ella Mae cooked, and then she took Chase to her house so that Solomon and I could have a private dinner for two. We talked and laughed and ate by candlelight. It was all so amazing.” She opened her eyes and again looked at Theresa. “There was something different about Solomon. For a minute, I thought he was ...” She released a sigh and shook her head. “I don't know.”
“You thought he was what?”
Shaylynn should have known she wouldn't be allowed to just gloss over her near slip of the tongue. “Nothing,” she replied, hopeful that Theresa would accept that answer, but knowing full well that she wouldn't.
“No.” Theresa shook her head as expected and leaned forward in her chair. “You have to tell me what's on your mind, Shay. Together, I'm sure we can figure this out, but I need you to trust me with all of the details. You thought he was what? Are you saying you thought he was gonna try to go all the way with you? Is that it? You think he put together the whole candlelight dinner to get you in bed?” Theresa was still shaking her head. “I can understand why it might have appeared that way, but I've known Neil for a long time, and he's really not like—”
“That's not what I meant, that's not it at all.” The thought hadn't even entered Shaylynn's mind. Well, it sort of had early in the night, but that's not at all what she thought by the time the evening came to an abrupt close.
“What, then?” Theresa asked.
Shaylynn slowly descended the ladder and once again removed the glove from her right hand. Could she really be transparent with her pastor's wife? She looked at Theresa and saw nothing but concern in her eyes. “You promise not to tell Solomon?”
“I promise.” With her right hand raised, Theresa looked like an over-aged Girl Scout.
Glancing down at the glove that dangled in her grasp, Shaylynn whispered, “I thought he was going to propose.” Slowly, her eyes met Theresa's. “The setting was perfect for it, and Solomon was being so mysterious and attentive and romantic. If he had proposed, I think the only thing missing from my dream would have been a song.”
A smile had stretched across Theresa's face at the onset of Shaylynn's admission, and it lingered as she spoke. “A song?”
“Yeah. In my dream, right before he proposes to me, he sings.”
“So you dream of Neil proposing to you?”
The invisible flame that heated Shaylynn's face seemed to be set on high. Even the wintry air coming through the open window wasn't enough to douse it. She looked down at her clasped hands again. “Once.”
“And in the dream, did you say yes?”
“I don't know.” She shrugged her shoulders. “I woke up before I answered.”
“So if he had asked you to marry him the other night, would you have accepted?”
Slowly, but surely, Shaylynn's head nodded. She was unsure about a lot of things in life, and taking chances had never been her strong suit. But despite all of her misgivings, she knew that if it came down to it, she'd take a risk on Neil. “But it doesn't matter now, because he didn't ask,” she told Theresa. “Instead, he all of a sudden got sick. And once that happened, the night came to a screeching halt.”
Theresa stood. “What do you mean, he all of a sudden got sick?”
Shaylynn shrugged her shoulders again. “He got sick.” She wasn't sure how else to explain it, but she gave it her best try. “He just said his stomach and head were hurting, and from that moment on, it was like he didn't even want to talk anymore. He all but asked me to leave. I thought that maybe the food disagreed with him or something. Or maybe he had an allergic reaction. But now that I haven't heard from him at all, I'm thinking that maybe it was something else. Maybe something happened between then and now.”
Theresa tightened the blanket around herself as she walked the length of the bedroom floor, looking like a black Jessica Fletcher, trying to put together the pieces of a mystery in an episode of
Murder
,
She Wrote
. She stopped walking and turned to look at Shaylynn. “What was said right before he got sick?”
After a moment's thought, Shaylynn felt her face heat another twenty degrees. If her skin wasn't a shade of dark chocolate, she was sure that her face would have turned a bright strawberry.
“You don't remember?” Theresa asked.
Oh, she remembered all right, but there was no way that Shaylynn could say it. Not to her first lady. How would she say, “I had just told him that I'd never tasted his lips after eating peach cobbler” without feeling like a hussy? A moment later, Shaylynn gasped and her hands flew to her lips. That was it! Theresa had questioned whether Shaylynn thought Neil was going to try to get her to go all the way, but the fact of the matter was Neil thought
she
was trying to get
him
into bed. That was the only explanation that made sense.
Oh my God
.
“What?” Theresa walked toward her. “What, Shay? What happened?”
“It's me.” Shaylynn couldn't bring herself to admit the details, but one thing she knew for certain: “I messed up.”

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