ELEVEN
“I still can’t believe you didn’t propose.” The disappointment was written all over Theresa’s face, not to mention how obviously detectable it was in her voice. She had been in the kitchen preparing dinner when Neil first arrived at the Loather home. Now she was stretched out across the sofa, getting pampered, like preparing a meal for two had been a chore and a half.
Neil wanted to laugh. He sat on the loveseat directly across the room and watched as Theresa lay with her bare feet in CJ’s lap while he massaged them. Ella Mae had given birth to ten children and never had an ounce of painkillers while doing so. As a matter of fact, most of the Taylor children weren’t birthed in a hospital or by doctors. Ella had midwives, and she had pushed out most of her babies while lying on the same bed she’d gotten impregnated in, in their country home. And as much as Pop loved her, Neil never saw him rub his mother’s feet. No doubt, childbearing was an assignment for which he definitely wouldn’t volunteer ... even if he could. But he still often wondered what modern women would do if they lived in yesteryear.
Neil bit down on the remains of the dissolving peppermint he had been nursing for the past few minutes, and between crunches, he replied, “Well, I can’t believe you can’t believe I didn’t propose. I think I did just what any man would have done if he were in my shoes.”
“You’re gonna mess around and let her get away if you don’t learn how to deal with your male ego.”
“What male ego?” Neil swallowed the last of the candy. “This has nothing to do with ego.”
Theresa sucked her teeth. “Are you kidding me? Of course it does. It has everything to do with male ego, and yours is so inflated that everything’s gotta be your way or no way at all.”
Neil couldn’t believe the words coming out of her mouth. “This isn’t about having everything my way, this is about having one thing my way.”
“Yeah, one humongous thing,” Theresa said. “Your one thing is like a hundred regular-sized things.”
“You make it sound like I’m being unreasonable.” Neil looked to his best friend for support. “Am I being unreasonable, CJ?”
“That all depends upon what your expectations are, bruh. I’ve told you that already. You know how I feel on this matter. It’s not gonna go away. You’re either going to have to learn to deal with it, or not. But if you choose not to, then I’m afraid you’ve taken this relationship with Shay about as far as it’s gonna go.”
“Man, don’t say that,” Neil said in reply.
“I’m just stating the facts as I see them.”
“In other words, yes, you’re being unreasonable,” Theresa inserted.
Neil sighed and crossed his right foot over his left knee. He felt like he was in some crazy sort of courtroom and not a single member of the jury believed his testimony. The only person who seemed to be able to understand his pain at all was Deacon Burgess, and as senile as he’d been lately, Neil knew better than to verbally cite that. Calling Homer Burgess’s name as his sole witness wasn’t going to make his case any stronger. “Come on, Theresa. Are you telling me that you’d be cool with sharing my boy’s heart with some other female, dead or alive?”
Theresa propped herself up on her elbows. “You see this?” She pointed her eyes toward her stomach. With only a few weeks to go, it stuck out like the fully expanded top of one of those old-school Jiffy Pop stovetop pans that people have to continuously shake while the popcorn pops. “If this turns out to be a girl, I may never get any love from your boy again, because he’ll be giving it all to her.”
CJ squeezed his wife’s foot. “Oh come on, baby. You know that’s not true.”
“Of course it’s not,” Neil said. “There’s a big difference between the love a man has for his kid and the love he has for his woman. You won’t lose any of CJ’s love, ’cause those two loves actually come from two entirely different aortas of the heart.”
“What?” Theresa looked at him sideways. “The heart only has one aorta, boy. You’re just making junk up.”
“I’m a PhD,” Neil said, “I’m licensed to make junk up.”
Theresa chuckled and lay back on the throw pillows that were positioned behind her head. After a moment of silence, she restated her stance. “You should have asked her, Neil.”
“Did you hear a single word of the story that I just told y’all about my Christmas Day fiasco?” Neil shook his head. “It literally blows me away that you’re still saying I should have proposed.”
“She would have accepted.”
“No, she wouldn’t have.” Neil’s voice raised an octave. “I don’t think Shay’s ever gonna say ‘I do’ again ... to me or anyone else, for that matter. That’s the one positive in this whole mess. At least it ain’t personal. She’s not gonna marry me, but I won’t have to stand by and watch her marry somebody else, either.” Neil tried to laugh it off, but the sting of his statement wouldn’t let him. He was beginning to believe it more and more.
“Haven’t you ever heard that saying about how you’re only a failure when you don’t try?” CJ grunted. “I can’t believe you’re giving up without even trying.”
“I’m not saying I’m giving up. I’m just saying ...” Neil rubbed his forehead, and then muttered, “I don’t even know what I’m saying anymore.”
“She would have said yes,” Theresa reiterated in a sing-song tone.
Neil looked at her and frowned. “Will you stop saying that? What makes you so sure? You’re some kind of prophetess now?”
“Maybe I am.”
“Yeah, right,” Neil said through a sigh.
“I refuse not to remain very optimistic about this. I like the thought of you and Shaylynn being a wedded couple,” Theresa said. “She did such an amazing job on the baby room.”
That was true. The room looked fantastic. Neil had come by on New Year’s Eve, before Watch Night service, to help CJ set up all the furniture. “So what? You want her around so you can have a built-in designer who’ll give you the family rate every time you want a room redecorated?”
Theresa twisted her lips. “Of course not. Well, yeah . . . I guess that would be a perk, but that’s not the reason I like the idea of her being Mrs. Neil Taylor. I like Shaylynn for several reasons. For one, she’s very mature. Maybe life forced her to become wise beyond her years, but whatever the reason, she’s mature. When she’s around, I don’t feel like I’m talking to someone four years younger than me.” “How ’bout six,” Neil corrected.
“How ‘bout shut up,” Theresa warned, and then proceeded without missing a beat. “And Shaylynn is different than a lot of the sisters at KBCC. When she talks to me, it’s just Shaylynn talking to Theresa. I mean, she respects me and everything, but she never gives me that stupid ‘Oh my God; I’m talking to the first lady’ act that a lot of the members do. Around me, she’s herself and she’s comfortable. I like that. Plus anyone who knows me knows that I like to talk and discuss things in detail. Shaylynn is a great conversationalist. I know she didn’t graduate from a four-year university like I and a lot of the other women at the church did, but she’s smart and knowledgeable. When we’re talking, I forget that she’s someone who, when I was graduating from high school, was just getting in high school.”
“Middle school.”
“Shut. Up.” That time Theresa said it through clinched teeth, and it was accompanied by a look that told Neil that was his last warning. “The point is I like her, okay? She’s like the ever-so-slightly younger sister I never had. I just happen to think she’s right for you.”
CJ nodded in agreement. “I do too. Of all the girls I’ve known you to date since we met on the campus of Morehouse College—including Audrey, who I actually thought was pretty cool—I like Shay the best. Spiritually, mentally, physically ... I think she’s your perfect fit. She supports you. She encourages your ministry. She loves your mother. You’re crazy about her son. She gets along with your whole family and, let’s face it, that’s a heck of a lot of people to get along with.”
Although the things CJ and Theresa were saying were true, they only increased Neil’s frustration. Where was he going to find another woman like Shaylynn? He loved her too much not to make this work, but he had to snatch her from under the spell Emmett had cast. Someway. Somehow. “You guys are talking like you have to sell me on her or something. I’m already sold. I know that we’re another Ossie and Ruby Dee.”
“He was amazing, but he’s dead,” Theresa injected.
“Another Bill and Camille Cosby.”
“Another good one, but he had an outside love child.”
Neil looked at CJ. “Can’t you do anything to control your wife’s mouth?”
CJ laughed. “I’ve only found one way to shut her up, and you’d have to leave before I could do that.”
Neil huffed and looked at his surroundings. “I can’t believe I actually sit on y’all’s furniture when I come over here. I’ll bet all kinds of ungodliness takes place on this loveseat. I gotta remember to bathe when I get home. And to throw all my clothes in the washer.”
CJ laughed some more. “You’re stupid, bruh.”
Neil got back on subject. “But for real. Can one of you call Shay and start your speeches all back over again? Maybe between the two of you, one of you will be able to make her see it too.”
“I think she already does,” Theresa said. “I still say she would have been glad to have you propose to her.”
Neil rolled his eyes and decided not to even respond to her repetitious psychosis. Instead, he turned his attention back to CJ. “When you hear people say stuff like, ‘A marriage takes three,’ they’re talking about the groom, the bride, and God, not the groom, the bride, and her ex.”
“But he’s not her ex.” CJ explained further. “If Emmett was an ex-boyfriend, ex-fiance, ex-husband, ex-anything, I’d agree with you wholeheartedly about this. But he’s not. He’s her former husband. A man she was with until death parted them.”
“And even after that.” Neil dropped his head against the back of the loveseat.
“Have you spoken to her since Christmas?” CJ asked.
Neil stared up at the fan attached to his friends’ ceiling. It would be at least two more months before they’d need to turn it on. “Sure, I have. It’s not like we broke up. She doesn’t even know how upset I was at the Christmas gathering, so we’ve talked every day as usual. I’m the one who drove them to the airport on Friday, so they could catch a flight to Milwaukee for Chase to spend the first few days of the New Year with his grandparents.” Neil hadn’t been particularly happy when he first found out that Shaylynn and Chase wouldn’t be with him when the old year made its exit, but taking Chase to Milwaukee to see the other side of his family was sort of tradition for them. Just as he’d done every year for as far back as he could remember, Neil brought in the New Year in church. Watch Night was a great worship experience, but it would have been even better had Shaylynn and Chase been there with him instead of on the other end of the country.
“How’s the visit going?”
Neil knew why CJ was asking. Shaylynn wasn’t exactly fond of Emmett’s parents, and they weren’t in her fan club either. “I spoke to Shay last night. She hasn’t seen the ex ... former in-laws since she dropped off Chase at their house on Friday afternoon. He’s staying with them, and she’s staying with a couple who used to be her neighbors back in the day. She went to her old church home for Watch Night service, and she said it was good to see the lady who used to be her pastor.”
“They’re coming back tomorrow, right?” Theresa asked.
“Yeah. They have to be back by then. That’ll be the last day of the holiday break. School starts back on Wednesday.”
“Just so you know,” CJ said, “when I asked you if you’d spoken to Shaylynn since Christmas, I wasn’t talking about your normal daily conversations. I was asking if you’d talked to her about the thing that upset you, but you’ve already answered my question.” CJ shook his head. “I guess if she doesn’t even realize that you were put off by her mention of Emmett, it’s a safe assumption that you’re still avoiding the inevitable.”
Neil sighed. Here we go again. His pastor/best friend hadn’t been all that subtle when letting Neil know that he was disappointed in his hesitation to be totally honest with Shaylynn on how he felt about her posthumous relationship with Emmett. “I haven’t talked to her about it yet, but I plan to.”
CJ released his wife’s foot long enough to fan a carefree hand at Neil. “Yeah, right. How many times have I heard that one? You wouldn’t happen to be related to the boy who cried wolf, would you?”
Theresa laughed like it was the best joke ever, but Neil didn’t see the humor. “I am going to talk to her,” he stressed. “I just ... didn’t want to do it so soon after the other misunderstanding that had just happened a couple of weeks earlier, nor did I think our Christmas gathering with Ms. Ella Mae was the right time. I didn’t want to ruin the holiday. What would I have looked like bringing up something like that on the day that celebrates Jesus’ birth?”
CJ made a grunting noise. “So you’re gonna talk to her tomorrow, then? No holiday falls on tomorrow.”
“I ... I hadn’t thought about it. Maybe. I don’t know.”
“Christmas is gone, New Years is gone.” CJ shrugged. “Let’s see ... Martin Luther King Day is coming up. You gonna use that for your next excuse? Maybe you won’t want to mess up the day that celebrates Dr. King’s birth either.”
Theresa thought that was funny too. Apparently, to her, it was even funnier than the wisecrack about the boy who cried wolf.
Neil stood. “Okay, I’m about to go. It’s obvious that I’ve worn out my welcome.”
“Boy, sit down.” Theresa wiped moisture from her eyes.
“No,” Neil protested. “Apparently you and your sidekick husband here think this is some kind of joke. I’m dealing with a very stressful situation, and the two of you are getting your jollies off of it.”
CJ looked up at him. “Do you see me laughing? Am I laughing?”
“I don’t see you laughing, but I hear it. The two of you are working together. You’re the ventriloquist, and the sounds are coming out of your dummy’s mouth.”
In a flash, Theresa was back on her elbows. Getting to her feet wasn’t nearly as easy, but she didn’t have to struggle for long. Before Neil could even figure out what he’d said to generate such a reaction, CJ was standing in her stead.
“What did you just call her?” CJ was three inches from Neil’s face, and he looked about two seconds away from speaking in unknown tongues ... and not the holy kind.
“What?” Neil batted his eyes while the ticker tape in his mind tried to reverse and detect the error. “What?” he repeated.
“You just called Resa a dummy, and not only is that inaccurate and inappropriate, but it’s also endangering. Your life, that is.”
“Whoa, whoa, whoa!” Neil held up both his hands in surrender. The closest he and CJ had ever come to fighting were the arm wrestling matches they used to challenge each other to in their college days. Sometimes Neil would win, and other times CJ would. At this stage of their lives, Neil wasn’t sure who would get the victory, but he wasn’t curious enough to try to find out, either. He took two steps back. “Hold up, man. You know that’s not what I meant. Bad example. Bad example, okay?” He watched CJ’s facial muscles relax. “It was just a poor choice of words. All I was saying was that you were doing the laughing, but the sound was coming out of Theresa’s mouth. That’s all. I wasn’t going for any name-calling.” As CJ backed away, Neil mumbled, “Good Lord. Just a few weeks ago, y’all were about to turn the church office into a Hampton Inn; now you want to turn your living room into Caesar’s Palace. I’ma pray for y’all.” He began heading for the front door.
“You don’t have to leave, Neil,” Theresa said.
“Yes, I do.”
“No, you don’t. Dinner should be ready now, and you know you love my meatloaf. You should stay and eat with us.”
Theresa’s meatloaf was good, true enough. And Neil hadn’t eaten one morsel of food all day, but he still declined. “I should be getting on home.”
“Come on, Neil,” CJ chimed in. He pointed at the couch that Neil had been occupying until just a short while ago. “Sit down, bruh. It’s cool. I’m fine now.”
Neil looked at CJ and scowled. “Man, ain’t nobody scared of you. You think I’m leaving ’cause of you? Man, I coulda took you in my sleep.”
CJ laughed. “Whatever it takes to make you feel better, bruh.”
Neil stretched his body. “I wasn’t supposed to be over here this long anyway. When I first got here, I told y’all I was just gonna be here a few minutes.” Neil looked at his watch. “It’s been almost two hours. I still need to get that work done before I go to bed tonight. I fooled around and let the entire holiday break pass and didn’t complete the electronic files that I need to update in the school database. I gave Ms. Dasher half, and I took the other half. She’ll never let me live it down if she has hers done when we return on Wednesday and I don’t.” Neil walked to their front closet and retrieved his coat.
“Man! That sure is sharp,” CJ said, admiring the black number that Shaylynn had bought Neil for Christmas.
Neil laughed. “Yeah, I know. You said that when I first got here.”
“Did Shay tell you that I helped her pick it out?” Theresa reached over her shoulder and patted herself on the back. “I did good, didn’t I?”
“She told me that she picked the coat, but you picked the color.”
“That’s true.” Theresa finally relieved CJ of his duties and managed to sit up straight. “She wanted to buy a brown one; talkin’ ’bout, ‘But Solomon looks so good in chocolate.’”
Neil laughed at Theresa’s pitiful attempt to sound like Shaylynn, but he felt himself blush behind the compliment. “She didn’t tell me that part.”
“I told her to put that mess back. You already have enough brown in your closet, including a coat.”
“I already had a black coat too.”
“Yeah, but not like that one.”
CJ agreed. “Yeah, bruh. This one is way sharper than that long one you have.”
Neil couldn’t seem to stop smiling. Shaylynn did, indeed, make a good choice. Both of them had to laugh when they opened their gifts on Christmas Day, because both had bought coats for the other. Shaylynn’s peacoat looked good on her too. Not as good as that ring would have looked on her finger, but that was another story. Neil shook the thought from his head.
“You want me to fix you a plate to go?” Theresa offered. “The meatloaf is ready by now. It’ll only take a minute.”
“It’s gonna take you more than a minute just to get up off that couch.”
“Shut up.” Theresa threw one pillow at Neil for what he said and another at CJ for laughing at it.
“Oh.” Neil snapped his fingers after tossing the pillow back on the sofa. “I still need to get that list from you, CJ. I need that in order to complete the updates tonight.”
“I’m gonna help Resa in the kitchen. You can go in my office and get it. You can’t miss it. It’s the red folder in the bottom tray on my desk.”
Neil knew the layout of the Loather home almost as well as he knew his own, even though theirs was much larger. Before CJ and Theresa got married, he used to spend a lot more time there than now, but not much about it had changed. Just more flowers and other girlie stuff than before, but the layout virtually remained the same. The baby room was the biggest change, and even that room was already there. Thanks to Shaylynn’s genius, it just had a totally different look now.
When Neil reached his pastor’s home office, he stood in the doorway for a moment and looked around. CJ had to have about the neatest office he’d ever seen. All of his reading matter, mostly biblical resource material, was neatly lined on the bookshelves. All of his writing instruments were standing upright in a pencil holder. The big framed photo of his parents was hanging on the wall so straight that it looked like it was a permanent part of the structure itself. CJ spent hours in that office during the course of the week, but that couldn’t be detected by looking at it. Neil knew that all the credit belonged to Theresa. Before CJ got married, just getting from the doorway to his desk was an Olympic sport.
As Neil approached the desk, he saw the red folder. Like CJ said, he couldn’t miss it. It was the only red folder in the bottom tray. No ... actually, there were two of them. Neil didn’t realize it until he began pulling one out and saw that there was another one beneath it. Not knowing which was the right one, he flipped open the cover to inspect the contents. At first he didn’t know what he was reading, but it was in CJ’s handwriting. The sentences on the page were broken and sketchy. It seemed like the outline for some sort of mystery-thriller that CJ was embarking upon writing. It sure would be a good one. Just the rough draft drew Neil in and kept his eyes scanning the page.
Had interview with sole witness who refused to give his name... murdered victim involved in illegal gambling... drug laundering... prostitution. . . you name it ... was unfaithful to his wife during entire marriage ... loved call girls ... bought women like most men bought suits ... dirty politics ... paid by drug lords ... something happened shortly before murder ... had a life change and came to Christ ... conscience kicked in ... was about to pull the cover off of the operation ... friends became his enemies ... price put on his head ... murder for hire ... city and state officials probably all involved... sole witness to the murder still lives in fear of his own life ... the shooting was definitely a political cover-up ... Kris-Cross P.I. conclusion: Mayor Emmett Ford was a dirty politician who was murdered because he got saved...
Neil’s eyes skimmed over the writings three times. Then they did it a fourth time, just to be sure that they had viewed it right the first, second, and third time. The words hadn’t changed. The meaning hadn’t changed. Shaylynn’s beloved Emmett was a crook. A drug-funded, sleazy-politicking, whore-hiring crook. The shock of the earth-shattering revelation rendered Neil speechless. The best he could do was mouth the words: Oh. My. God!