Chapter Sixteen
Taylor pulled off the City Avenue exit and stopped suddenly at the light around the curve. She was so busy talking on her cell phone that she almost rammed into the back of an old Impala. It had been almost two weeks since she and Sherry had a chance to catch up, for which Taylor was most to blame. Between being a wife, mother, and boss, she rarely had time for herself. Life was supposed to be easier at fifty.
“You’re good. I would’ve been the first one at the altar Sunday morning praying for forgiveness,” Sherry said in response to Taylor’s Thanksgiving Day dinner story. “You let those women get away with too much.”
“I do what it takes to keep peace between me and my husband,” Taylor responded.
“And how’s that working out for you?”
Taylor drove around the curve when the light changed and pulled into Houlihan’s parking lot. She parked her cherry Durango behind a string of cars in front of the restaurant and turned on her hazards. “I can’t put my foot down now,” she continued as she looked for Joi.
“Says who?” questioned Sherry. “It’s never too late. You’ve got to start somewhere.”
“You’re right,” Taylor agreed. “But we’ll have to finish this later. I need to go in and find . . .” Taylor stopped talking and leaned forward. Joi and Jerome were coming down the ramp. She couldn’t believe how much they favored one another. Even their slow and subdued strides matched.
“Tay?” Sherry called through the phone. “You still there?”
Taylor’s cell almost slipped from her hand. “Yes. Yes, I’m here. Just staring at Jerome. He looks good.”
Sherry laughed aloud. “Did you expect him to look as old as Frederick Douglass?”
Taylor said nothing. She didn’t expect him to look like a senior citizen, but she thought the years would have aged him more than what she observed.
“You’ve got a good husband,” noted Sherry. “His momma and sisters may be nuts, but Lance is a good man.”
As Jerome grew closer, Taylor’s breathing patterns changed. Sherry was right. Lance was a good man, but that didn’t mean she couldn’t admire an attractive man. Even one she used to be in love with. “I have to call you back. They’re coming,” she said and dropped the phone in the cup holder attached to her dashboard. Quickly, she checked her makeup and straightened the brown Coach hat covering her uncombed hair.
Through the passenger window Taylor saw Joi point at the car, and when Jerome looked in her direction, she waved. Before getting out of the car, she smoothed her eyebrows.
“Taylor Kimball,” Jerome said as she walked around her car.
“It’s Taylor Belle now,” she replied when she reached the ramp, flashing her three-emerald diamond-cut wedding ring.
Jerome hugged Taylor longer than a normal greeting and spoke softly into her left ear, “Yes, it has been a very long time.”
Taylor had pictured their reunion much differently. She was supposed to be dressed in an outfit that could put Be-yoncé to shame, and her hair was supposed to bounce like Oprah’s. Jerome was supposed to be gray and walk with the aid of a cane. Thanks to last-minute errands, she didn’t have time to run home and change before picking up Joi.
Taylor also thought he would be cold, like his many letters, and was prepared to fill his ears with words to make him feel guilty. But as she stared at him, all the years of frustration and resentment were forgotten.
Joi stood beside them, her arms crossed and shivering from the cold. “Can I get in the car?” she asked.
Taylor pressed the automatic starter on her keychain and unlocked the door. “Don’t turn the heat up too high,” she told Joi as she hopped into the vehicle.
“Thanks for dinner. I’ll see you tomorrow,” Joi told Jerome before closing the door.
Taylor had to force herself not to stare. “She wasn’t too hard on you, was she?”
“She was fine. She’s a lot like you,” he responded.
“Compliment, I hope.”
“Of course.”
Taylor felt as if she was flirting and couldn’t stop. “She looks just like you.”
“I know. I can’t believe I have a daughter.” Jerome loosened the thin scarf around his neck. “Taylor, I’m sorry it’s taken this long.”
“No need to explain. I understand. I’m just glad you came to your senses,” Taylor said to keep the mood light.
A car swished over a puddle, and water splashed onto Taylor’s winter white velour outfit. On impulse, she jumped closer to Jerome, almost touching his side. “I better go,” she said and immediately stepped back. “I don’t want to be late for my hair appointment,” she said, although an appointment was not needed in her niece’s salon. “How long will you be in town?”
“Through the weekend,” he said. “Joi and I talked about going to Germantown and playing a couple games at the center. Thought it would be nice to take her to my old stomping grounds to see what she’s got.”
“I don’t know, Jerome,” Taylor joked. “My girl’s pretty tough. They don’t call her Boss for nothing.”
Jerome smiled. “I guess we’ll see.”
“Well, she usually works on Saturday, but I suppose I can make an exception. Call me and we’ll work out the particulars.” Taylor looked back at her car. Joi was watching, her eyes carefully examining the situation. “Nice seeing you, Jerome.”
“Same here,” he said and waited for Taylor to settle inside her car.
Taylor adjusted the heat, unaware of the smile plastered on her face. She watched Jerome walk to the end of the lot and get inside of a sedan rental. He was talking on a cell phone. Taylor wondered if it was Renee he was talking to.
During the span of their relationship, he had often left Taylor’s side to be with her. Flashbacks of the arguments and the nights she cried because of Jerome’s actions resurfaced, and her heart instantly filled with regret. One day she prayed God would completely erase the memories of that time in her life.
“You’re in a good mood,” Joi stated.
Taylor snapped her seatbelt into place and turned off the hazards. “I’m always happy when I’m going to get my hair done. I might do a weave this time.”
Joi faced the window and tapped the side of her door to a beat only she could hear. Taylor merged her car onto I-76 and navigated to the far left lane and turned down the radio. Taylor hoped Joi was ready to talk about the evening. In an attempt to get some answers, she asked, “How did things go?”
Joi shrugged her shoulders. “I guess he’s all right. He said he was sending you money for me for a long time.”
Surprised, Taylor focused on the road. Before Joi’s young mind could accuse of her of any wrongdoing, she said, “I used a lot of that money when you were small to buy things you needed. When the shop picked up business, I opened a college fund for you.”
Joi leaned her elbow along the window ledge, her face expressionless.
Taylor wondered what her daughter was thinking about. The silence was bothering her. “Glad you met him?” Taylor wanted to know.
“Not sure yet,” Joi responded. “Did you have to tell him everything about me?”
“I mentioned specific things I was concerned about.” Taylor prayed Joi wasn’t trying to start an argument. The main intent of sharing things with Jerome was to help them deal with their problems, not push them farther apart. “This is what you wanted, right?”
“Guess I’ll know better tomorrow,” Joi said, making herself more comfortable in the seat.
Taylor didn’t push for more information. As she traveled down the expressway, she prayed she had made the right decision when she called Jerome.
In a fresh, long and curly weave, Taylor paraded into the house, eager to model in front of her husband. The new style should last three months, but Taylor doubted she’d make it past Christmas. Having a niece as a personal hair stylist spoiled her. Taylor changed her hair, both in color and cut, more than most women did in a year.
Tinkering with an uneven leg on the dining room table, Lance looked away from his project long enough to notice his wife. “I love it,” he complimented as Taylor twirled around. “How was dinner, Boss?”
“Fine,” Joi blurted and dashed upstairs.
Lance looked at his wife. “You sure she’s okay with this?”
“Someone called on that phone; that’s why she’s in such a rush,” Taylor answered and walked to the kitchen. The truth was she wasn’t exactly sure how Joi felt.
In the kitchen, half-eaten cheese steaks and cold French fries decorated the table. She wrapped the food in foil and placed them in the refrigerator. In an hour, one of the twins would come looking for leftovers. The smell of food reminded Taylor that she had not eaten since noon. Not in the mood to cook, she reheated the pepper steak from last night’s dinner and sat at the table.
While the kids were busy, she had a chance to catch up on some reading. “Any messages?” she asked Lance and picked up a Jet magazine.
“Yep,” Lance called from the next room. “Someone named Collette Brown called. Said something about seeing a property downtown.”
Taylor moaned internally. She had not discussed her plans with her husband yet.
“Care to fill me in?” Lance asked, now standing in the kitchen in a ragged pair of jeans. He had taken the day off to run some errands for Gram.
Taylor couldn’t look him in the eye. “I’m thinking about opening a second store.”
“Were you going to tell me?”
“It’s just a thought. I was going to mention it,” Taylor said. “I wanted to see what was out there first.”
“You used to talk to me about your thoughts. What’s different this time?” Lance opened the refrigerator and pulled out a pint-sized Pepsi.
“Nothing. I didn’t want to make a big deal out of nothing.”
Lance twisted the cap off his soda and gulped down half of his drink. “We have money saved for this?”
“A little.” Taylor turned the page of the magazine, and it ripped. “I might need to get another loan.”
“We’re not finished with the last one, babe. Maybe you should think this through some more.” Lance finished the soda and threw the can in the trash. “I’m not trying to squash your dream, but we have four kids now, one of which will be off to college very soon.”
Taylor refreshed Lance’s memory. “Joi has a college fund.”
Lance stood up tall, like a professor in a lecture hall. “Joi is not our only child. And scholarships pay for tuition room, and board. She’ll need money for other things. She might want a car—”
“Is there a crime in looking?” Taylor didn’t feel like being schooled.
“Of course not,” he replied. “I only want you to consider all your options.”
The food on the stove sizzled, and Lance turned down the flame. Taylor had lost her appetite. “I’ll let you know how things go tomorrow,” she said, hoping the conversation was over.
Lance headed out the kitchen and stopped at the door. “I almost forgot. Gizelle bought tickets to see Rhianna and some other cats in concert. It’s her Christmas gift to the kids.”
“They’ll like that.” Gizelle may have had reservations about Taylor, but she loved the children, especially the girls, since she only had boys.
Taylor sat at the dinner alone, staring at the now cold pepper steak in front of her. She’d eaten only one mouthful. She looked at the kitchen clock. Fifteen minutes had passed since she first sat down to the table. She had a feeling Lance was going to react the way he did. That’s why she wanted to wait before telling him. Gram had instilled the notion that Taylor couldn’t raise children and have a business at the same time. It didn’t matter that she and Lance had managed when Joi was a tiny baby. Sure, there were more children in the picture, but they weren’t infants.
Taylor chuckled to herself. Gram was famous for quoting, “Nothing is impossible with God.” As far as Taylor was concerned, God made no exceptions. That phrase didn’t only apply when Gram thought it was necessary. It was a word applicable to all situations.
Instead of putting her barely touched dinner back in the Tupperware container, Taylor dumped it down the garbage disposal. She didn’t like to reheat food twice. She washed the few dishes in the sink and, when she was done, decided to give Collette Brown a call. There was no harm in seeing what was on the market.
Upstairs, the kids were all settled in their rooms. The house was quiet, and she was ready to unwind. Lance was awake and reading a newspaper, his reading glasses drooped by the tip of his nose.
Taylor sat on the bed next to him and kissed his cheek. “I’m sorry for not saying anything. But I feel like I need to do this. Maybe God is pushing me to do this.” She rubbed Lance’s head tenderly. “I promise to keep the family first. Same as I always have.”
Lance took his wife’s hand. “I’m gonna hold you to that. Just don’t keep me out of the loop.”
“I made an appointment for tomorrow,” she said and hopped off the bed. She hated to ask, but had no choice. “I won’t be here when Jerome comes by for Joi. Do you mind?”
“Not a problem. I’ll ask Gizelle to take Gram to the market. She won’t mind.”
As she prepared for the night, Taylor imagined what Gizelle would have to say. Before the week was out, Taylor was sure the Belle women would know about Jerome and the second store. Then, like clockwork, Gram would call with her opinions on the matter, and Taylor would pretend to listen and take notes.
Lance pushed his glasses up so that they sat on the bridge of his nose, and resumed reading the paper. “How is Jerome?”
“About the same,” Taylor answered nonchalantly.
“Did you get a chance to talk?”
Taylor buttoned her flannel top, careful not to show signs that she had enjoyed seeing him. “Not long. I was in a hurry to get to the salon.”
Lance didn’t show it, but Taylor realized this had to be hard for him. After all, she had dumped him once because of Jerome. “I was thinking . . . let’s go away for a few days. Maybe Vegas or someplace warm.”
“That would be nice,” he replied.
Taylor pulled her new long hair into a ponytail and stuffed it under a satin cap. The clutter in the room didn’t bother her tonight as she made her way to the prayer corner. As long as she kept Jerome and the Belle women out of her marriage, she and Lance could conquer anything. She sat in her special chair and picked up The Prayer of Jabez and turned to page eighteen.
Oh, that you would bless me indeed!