CHAPTER 3
FELICIA
I had planned to pick up some Chinese takeout on my way home. But because of my clumsy encounter with Richard, I’d lost my appetite. I couldn’t understand why running into him had me so flustered. I had known the man for over eight years! What was different about tonight was seeing the way Regina looked at him.
My two-bedroom, second-floor apartment was in a newly renovated three-story building on a quiet, tree-lined street next door to a barbershop. My landlady, a slim, attractive blonde named Lorena Jones, lived in the unit across the hall from mine. She was in her late thirties and divorced. Her elderly uncle, who lived in a retirement home, owned the building. She managed it and got to live rent free. She and I had become quite close since I’d moved in twelve years ago.
I wasn’t ready to go home so I knocked on Lorena’s door. She greeted me with a large glass of tea in her hand. “Come on in, Fel. I was bored so I wouldn’t mind having some company.” She raked her long fingers through her hair and waved me into her neatly organized living room. “I didn’t hear you go out,” she continued, looking at the bag in my hand. Then she gazed at my face and shook her head. “Baby, you don’t look too happy. Did something happen?”
“I’m fine,” I muttered as we flopped down onto her couch. “I . . . I saw a man that I have feelings for with another woman at the market.”
“Oh? Pam Williams’s son? I didn’t think you and him were serious enough for you to get upset over seeing him with another woman.”
I waved my hand. “Pffftt! Puh-leeze! Clyde and I are only friends and that’s all we’ll ever be.”
Lorena took a sip of her tea and then waved the glass in front of my face. “I have something stronger than tea if you need a drink.”
“No, thanks, I’m fine. I was going to pick up some wine, but I was so anxious to get out of Ralph’s Market I forgot.”
“If you change your mind let me know.” Lorena took a deep breath and gave me a serious look. “Well, if it wasn’t Clyde, who was it?”
“That’s not important.”
“It must be if it bothered you to see him with another woman. Are they in a serious relationship?”
“He has a lot of female friends, but I have no idea if he’s in a serious relationship. That’s one of the few things he’s very vague about when I talk to him. Anyway, I’ve been admiring him from afar for years.” Lorena and I shared a lot of personal information. However, I couldn’t bring myself to tell her the identity of the man in question. She’d met Richard before so I couldn’t even tell her what he looked like or where he worked. If I told her, she’d figure things out. As much as I adored Lorena, she had a long, busy tongue. My business would be all over the building in no time. By the time the story had made its rounds, it would have been embellished so much I’d come out looking like a love-struck fool. “The other woman, who looks like a supermodel all the time, was dressed to kill. And you see what I went out looking like.”
Lorena looked me over and frowned. “You do look a little scraggly.”
“If that wasn’t bad enough, you should have seen the way they stared at the things I bought.” I dumped my purchases onto the coffee table.
“I can see why.” Lorena reared back and guffawed so hard, her eyes watered.
I kept talking and she kept laughing. “Except for the Cheetos, this is all for Grandma Lucy. But I have a feeling that they—at least the woman—thinks these are items I bought for myself. I felt so old standing there.”
Lorena got quiet and gave me a sympathetic look. She set her glass on the end table and let out a mighty belch. “Now, that made me feel old,” she complained as she rubbed her chest and wiped her lips with the back of her hand. “I was about to say, you don’t have to feel old, or any other way. Buy what you want and let people think what they want. It’s your life.”
I put my merchandise back in the bag. “I better get on home. I forgot to take my phone with me and I’m sure my grandmother has left me a ton of voice mail messages.”
“How long do you plan on pining for this fellow ‘from afar’?”
I shrugged. “Lorena, I feel so silly talking about this.”
“Listen, there is nothing ‘silly’ about being in love. Now answer the question I just asked.”
“Well, I have a feeling that I’m probably as close to him as I’ll ever be,” I whimpered. “I know he likes me, too—but his feelings are strictly platonic. He values my opinions, though. He’s always complimenting me on my outfits and jewelry. He even asked me to go with him to Wallace Jewelers to help him pick out a birthday gift for his daughter and a Mother’s Day gift for his mother-in-law this year.”
Lorena gasped. “He’s married?”
“Oh no! He’s a widower, but he’s still close to his former in-laws.”
“Oh. If he still gives gifts to his former mother-in-law, he must be a keeper. After my divorce, my ex never spoke to my folks again, or me, for that matter. And, I have to admit, you do have good taste. I’d give an arm and a leg to own pieces of jewelry as sharp as some of the ones you own.”
I tapped the pearl earrings in my ears I’d purchased last month. “Well, you know you can borrow anything you want from me.” I exhaled, stretched my arms, and we stood up. “Thanks for listening to my woe-is-me rant again.”
“Anytime. You know I’m always here for you.”
“I’ll see you tomorrow.”
Lorena escorted me to the door and gave me a hug. “Fel, there are way too many other men on this planet for a woman to get the blues over one. Especially a woman with as much going for her as you. Besides, you still get a lot of attention from men. Maybe not from the ones you want, but the right guy will come your way eventually.”
“I know. I’m just being silly and immature, I guess.”
* * *
I was glad to be back in my cozy little apartment. My living room was large. But my computer station, a beige couch, matching love seat, two wing chairs, and a sixty-inch flat-screen TV made it look smaller. I had spent a lot of time and money on the pastel-colored curtains, oil paintings, and various knickknacks in every room.
When I changed out of my shabby attire, my appetite returned. Since I had not picked up the Chinese takeout, my supper was a turkey leg, a bowl of green beans, some dressing, and a Diet Coke. I watched a rerun of Law & Order, read a few pages of the most recent Ebony magazine, and took a hot bath. When my grandmother wasn’t with me, I called her at least once or twice a day at her apartment to make sure she was doing okay. And to see if she needed anything. After my second call to her this morning, she’d called me back an hour later and given me a list of things to go pick up for her.
Grandma Lucy was an amazing woman. She and my grandfather had dropped out of elementary school so they could go to work and help their folks pay bills. From that point on, they’d worked their fingers to the bone doing up to three jobs at a time each, sometimes six or seven days a week. They got married in their teens and started having babies right away, so they had to work even harder to support five children and pay for Mama to attend nursing school. My grandparents had been raised in Toxey, Alabama, a backwoods town with one stoplight and dirt roads, and they had moved to Ohio over sixty years ago. Grandma Lucy still spoke and acted like some of our relatives who still lived in the rural South. She had stopped driving and sold her car last month after she knocked over a mailbox, sideswiped a parked car, and almost skidded into a duck pond. There had been a few other incidents before that day, including several speeding tickets. I didn’t want her to hurt anybody or herself, so I volunteered to chauffeur her around in my two-year-old Jetta.
“Gal, where my stuff at?” was how she greeted me when I called her up after I’d eaten.
“I got lazy so I’ll bring it to you tomorrow morning.”
“I’m going to the casino with my quilt-making club tomorrow and I’ll be gone all day.”
I cleared my throat. “Then I’ll bring it to you on Sunday when I pick you up for church. Is everything okay?”
“Well, if it wasn’t, I would have let you know by now,” Grandma Lucy said with a chuckle. “You, your mama, and your daddy—and everybody else—worry too much about me. I been taking care of myself all these years and ain’t had no problems yet. Stop treating me like a baby.”
“Okay, sweetie.”
“You sound tired, so why don’t you get some rest. I’m fixing to go watch one of my Tyler Perry DVDs.”
“I’ll call you tomorrow.”
“Girl, you done gone deaf? Didn’t I just tell you I’ll be gone all day tomorrow?”
“I was going to call you on the cellphone I bought you last month.”
Grandma Lucy coughed and then said in a raspy tone, “I declare, I don’t know why you bought me such a complicated contraption. And I ain’t carrying it with me to the casino so it can be ringing and vibrating and distracting my attention away from them slot machines. I know you showed me how to use it, but I still can’t figure it out. I been old school all my life and I’m going to stay that way.” Old school was right. My grandmother was the only person I knew who still used a rotary telephone. She snorted and went on, “Every time I look up, they coming out with a new this, a new that. Especially that Internet. Face-back, Googly, chit rooms, and so on! All them strange words is enough to drive anybody nuts.” She laughed some more. “And you expect me to learn how to use a phone that ain’t even got no cord?”
“Well, when that rotary phone conks out, you’ll have to get a real telephone.”
“I ain’t worried about that as long as what I got works for me. Shoot. My daddy told me all my life that if something wasn’t broke, don’t fix it.”
“You are so bad,” I teased. “Go watch your movie and don’t forget to lock your door and take all your pills before you go to bed.”
It had been a long day, so I went to bed an hour after my conversation with my grandmother and dozed off right away.
My brother, Victor, who was two years younger than me, lived in Atlanta with his wife and son. He was a very successful private investigator, and he was always on the go. But we kept in touch by video chatting, text, e-mail, and telephone at least three or four times a month. He had called me up on Thanksgiving Day, and we had chatted for almost a whole hour.
I never turned off my cellphone or my landline when I went to bed. With my elderly parents on a six-month-long vacation visiting cities in several countries, and a grandmother who lived alone in an apartment six blocks away, I wanted to be available at all times in case they needed to get in touch with me.
When my cellphone woke me up, I glanced at the illuminated clock on my nightstand and panicked. It was four a.m. “Oh, God,” I moaned, sitting bolt upright. “Please let it be a wrong number.” I swallowed hard and looked at the caller ID and saw a name and number I didn’t recognize. I answered right away.
“Fel, were you asleep?” It was Mama’s voice.
“I was,” I muttered, and held my breath. “Is everything okay? Where’s Daddy and whose phone are you using?”
“Everything’s fine. We’re having a ball down here in South Africa. Your daddy is flopping around in the hotel pool, and I’m stretched out on a chaise longue laughing at him and munching on a few things I took from the breakfast buffet. I left my phone in the room so I’m using one that belongs to a lady we met at breakfast this morning.”
My parents had retired ten months ago on the same day. Mama had worked as a pediatric nurse for thirty-five years, and Daddy had worked in law enforcement for forty. He’d started out as a beat cop and worked his way up to homicide detective. One of their goals was to visit as many countries as possible before they got too old. Even after providing a good life for my brother and me, and supporting Daddy’s parents until they passed years ago, they still managed to save enough money to fulfill their dream. A week before they were scheduled to begin their six-month-long vacation, Mama’s father passed away and they didn’t want to leave Grandma Lucy on her own. But she was in good health and didn’t want them to change their plans to accommodate her. I didn’t want them to change their plans either, so I assured them that I would take care of my grandmother and even suggested moving her in with me. Grandma Lucy liked living alone, but I picked her up at least once a week and brought her to my place to spend a couple of nights. Lorena enjoyed spending time with her while I was at work. And she wore a medic alert bracelet at all times when she was alone, so I wasn’t too worried about her.
“How are you doing, baby? Is Mama driving you crazy yet?”
“I’m fine and so is she. She’s going to spend today at a casino with one of her quilt-making club friends, but I’ll see her on Sunday. How’s the vacation going? It’ll be over soon, so I hope you and Daddy are still having a good time.” They’d started their journey back in June and had already visited England, France, Scotland, Portugal, Ireland, and Italy. They had been in Africa for three weeks.
“Baby, we are having the time of our lives. Ghana was an amazing place, but we’re enjoying Johannesburg, South Africa, even more. The people here, black and white, are so nice and friendly.”
“So I’ve heard. That’s one country I definitely plan to visit someday.”
“Your daddy is a mess,” Mama laughed. “We’ve been eating some tasty food, but he’s disappointed because with all these black folks down here, we haven’t found any restaurants that sell turnip greens, hush puppies, and smothered chicken. You know how addicted he is to soul food.”
“Tell him he’ll have to wait until he gets back to the States. Black folks in other countries have probably never even heard of what we call soul food.”
“Tell me about it. But we’ve eaten some good food anyway. By the way, I spoke to your brother yesterday.”
“I talked to him on Thanksgiving. He won’t be able to make it up here for Christmas.”
“That’s another thing I need to tell you. We might not make it back in time for Christmas.”
“Oh? Why not? We’ve always spent Christmas Day together.”
“Our travel agent is working on getting us to the one place I never thought I’d get to visit.” Mama paused and I held my breath until she continued. “If he can get us into a decent hotel, we’ll spend Christmas Day and the rest of the week—if possible—in Bethlehem. A tour guide will take us to some of the same places where Jesus lived and preached. But our travel agent is having a few problems making the arrangements, so we’re not going to get our hopes up too high.”
I gasped. “Oh my. I hope he can get it done. When I was a little girl, you talked about visiting that part of the world all the time.”
“If we do make it, I will call you on the Lord’s birthday from His birthplace. Oooh wee. I get chills just thinking about being in the Holy Land. I just wanted to let you know now in case we don’t make it back in time to spend Christmas Day at home. I hope you understand.”
“Mama, don’t worry about not making it back in time. If Grandma Lucy and I don’t feel like cooking, I’m sure she’ll want to eat Christmas dinner at Denny’s. If we don’t go there, we’ll probably eat with my friend Pam and her family. So don’t worry about us.”
“I do worry about you being alone so much, though. . . .”
“Mama, I have my job and a lot of friends. And when I am alone, it doesn’t bother me.”
“Your grandma told your daddy that the only thing left on her bucket list is you getting married.”
“It’s not the only thing left on my list, but it’s at the top,” I giggled.