Chapter 12
“Earth to Michael,” Bryson said, waving his hands in front of Michael’s face, as they ate lunch together.
Shaking himself out of his funk, he looked apologetically at his friend. “I’m sorry, man. I’m just a million miles away. What were you saying?”
Bryson sat his beer down and shook his head. “Okay, let’s talk about Karli. You called me to get your mind off her, and yet your wings are cold, your beer bottle is half empty, you’ve referred to the Eagles as the Jets four times, and I’ve been talking for the past ten minutes to Jesus and the air. She’s on your mind, so talk about her.”
Chuckling softly, Michael conceded, “Yeah, I am pretty bad.” He heaved a sigh and looked over at Bryson. “I don’t know what to do to get my wife back.”
Bryson looked confused. “Wait. Did she leave you? I thought you went back home to her. It’s been, like, two weeks.”
Waving his hand, Michael grunted. “No, she didn’t leave me. In fact, she ran to me with open arms when I went back home.”
Bryson folded his arms across his chest, and his nose flared. “What the hell did you do to that woman, Michael? She loves you like a drug addict loves crack, so I know you did something stupid.”
Michael contemplated whether to explain the actual story to his friend, but then he saw Bryson’s growing impatience, and he knew better than to try to lie to him. Besides, he wasn’t a good liar, anyway. He wore his emotions on his sleeve.
Michael sucked it up and began explaining all the happenings of late. Beginning with pushing Karli away when he got home and treating her like a ho for hire, and ending with their nonexistent communication and quality time, he let it all out to his friend. Once he was finished, he felt a sense of relief, but he knew that relief was just from being able to talk to someone, since he couldn’t talk to his wife.
Bryson stared at him in disbelief. “I can’t believe you. And you’re seriously wondering why you can’t get your wife back! You treated her like some broad from the hood. She’s your wife, Michael. Damn it.”
“Don’t you think I realize that?”
“I honestly don’t know what to tell you. If I treated Jessica like that, not only would I have a well-whipped ass, but I’d be sitting in divorce proceedings, feeling just as messed up as I would look. You’re lucky she didn’t go postal on you.”
“I’ve tried everything that Pastor Monroe has asked me to do, and she’s turned a blind eye and an uncaring ear to me. She’s flippant and cold. I don’t know this Karli. I just want my old thing back, ya know?”
“Well, ain’t that some table turning for ya ass,” Bryson said half jokingly.
“You’re not helping.”
Shrugging, Bryson sipped his beer then cleared his throat of the bitter aftertaste. “Sucks to be you. Just out of curiosity, what have you done to get back into her good graces?”
“I apologized. I’ve tried to talk to her, but she ignores me. I invited her out to dinner, so we could spend some quality time together, but she turned me down. She did go to church with me last Sunday, but she drove her own car, because she said she had to work afterward, so the only time I had to spend with her was during service.”
Sitting back, Bryson shook his head. “She’s got you on a ten-foot pole, man.” He contemplated something for a moment, then snapped his fingers. “Instead of inviting her, you should set the mood. You know if you ask, she’s going to say no, so instead, when she comes home, have some soft romantic music on, have dinner for two ready, and fix a bubble bath or something. Hell, anything at this point.”
A slow smile crept onto Michael’s face. He looked at his watch, stood, and grabbed his leather jacket. “Will you hit up Stephanie and tell her to cancel my three o’clock? Tell her to push everything back until Monday. I’m taking the rest of the day off.”
Bryson fist bumped him. “I got you, man. Go get your wife. Who knows? You may put a baby up in her, after all,” he joked.
“From your lips to God’s ears.”