Forgive Me (15 page)

“James and I started dating after he and his wife broke up. His wife cheated on him with her best friend's husband, and they eventually married.”

Tawatha smirked at the one-sided presentation of the story. “Oh.”

“Let me back track. He wasn't this innocent lamb. He cheated on her, too. As a matter of fact, he cheated with this crazy chick that killed three of her four children for him. Can you believe a woman could be so stupid, Dana?”

Poker face. Poker face.
“I saw the news story.”

“Well, I knew we'd have struggles because he had issues of trust at first.”

Because he still wants me,
Tawatha thought.

“Finally, we settled into a decent groove and started our little empire,” Shandy said, using air quotes to emphasize
little empire.

“So, if you work so well together and have all these businesses, why did he leave?”

“He left because—” Shandy's cell phone interrupted their girl talk. She stood and removed the phone from her pocket. “Speak of the devil. Let me pull myself together and take this call.”

Tawatha's stomach churned. She wanted to snatch the phone from Shandy, tell James how much she missed him, and beg him to come back to her. She angled her body to eavesdrop since Shandy didn't take the call downstairs.

“James, how are you? I have a slight cold and I'm showing the house to a lovely young lady named Dana.” Shandy winked her eye at Tawatha.

Twelve minutes later, after blow dryer, hair roller, and invoice minutiae, Shandy brought the call to a close. Before hanging up she asked, “How is Aruba doing?”

Tawatha perked up at the mention of James's ex-wife's name.

“That's good news, right?”

Tawatha waited for Shandy to end the call completely. Aruba's name piqued her curiosity so much she wanted to sneak behind her and press her ear to the call.

“Well, I sincerely hope she gets better, James. I'll send the monthly closeout statement to your new address and email it as soon as I can. Hey, tell Aruba I'm praying for her and hopes she gets better.”

She ended the call. “Dana, I am so sorry I dumped on you. I was rude and selfish.”

“It's quite alright. I wanted you to pick up where you left off. You were about to tell me why he left.”

Shandy looked at her watch and waved away the request. “I really have to go. I've sat here with this pity party and forgot about a meeting I have scheduled with a potential vendor. I have a feeling we'll meet again, so perhaps we can chat later.”

Disappointed, Tawatha stood. She walked down the stairs behind Shandy, stopping at the island at Shandy's insistence.

“So, Dana, do you think you and Travis will be interested in renting the place? I'd love to rent it to you if you'd like.” Shandy pulled cards out of her purse. “I'll even knock two hundred dollars off the rent and charge thirteen hundred dollars. I'm more interested in having someone stay here for upkeep. A house dies when no one lives in it.”

“I'll let him know what I saw and get back with you.”

Shandy scribbled information on a card and handed it to Tawatha. “Here is my information. Call me and let me know. Also, here is a VIP salon certificate from me to you. It entitles you to hair services of your choice at our natural or adult salon. Compliments of
moi
and a small token of my appreciation for you indulging my bellyaching.”

“Do you and James do hair?”

“I'm not a stylist. He used to do hair, but he handles operations these days. Trust me, there are wonderful stylists on staff. Someone will hook you up.”

“Thanks so much, Shandy. One way or another, I will be in touch with you.”

They shook hands again, and Shandy escorted Tawatha to her car. She watched her drive and thought if things had been different, maybe she and James could have double-dated with Dana and Travis.

J
ames had excused himself from Aruba's group therapy session twenty minutes ago; he couldn't bring himself go back inside and wondered if she'd miss him if he left. He made a quick call to Shandy, grabbed a soda and chips from the vending machine, and paced the length of the hall. He wasn't prepared for the spilled truths he heard: Aruba had contemplated suicide when they were married. She felt unattractive because of advances from other women. She felt like she pulled the weight of their marriage during his bouts of unemployment. She felt he didn't love her.

She bore more burdens than he ever imagined, and he didn't realize until now how weary she had grown.
No wonder she was desperate enough to be with Winston. If I could turn back the hands of time…

More disheartening than hearing Aruba's truth was sitting under the wrath of Darnella Stanton. At Dr. Shipman's coaxing, Aruba discussed circumstances leading to her suicide. As Aruba recounted painful incidents, Darnella folded and unfolded her arms, rolled her eyes at James, and gave Lance “I told you so” looks. Maxine gave her a cryptic look to calm her down. James left the room when Aruba mentioned finding a thong under their living room sofa. Now, he sat in the lobby area, his wilted pride getting the best of him.
Maybe I'm kidding myself by being here. She doesn't want me back, and I don't blame her.

James's phone rang. Isaak Benford's name brought a smile to his soul. He answered on the second ring. “What's up, Ike?”

“You tell me, Boss Man. I'm getting back with you about the matter we discussed.”

“Did you find anything?”

“What's my name? I know low people in high places. I got you covered. You can access your email by phone, correct?”

“Yeah.”

“Give me about five minutes to do a file transfer. I'll send it right out. [email protected], right?”

“Isaak, the favors are racking up. I'll do what I can to repay you.”

“No pay necessary. Katrina said to tell Aruba hello.”

“Thanks, Isaak.”

James ended the call, nervous about the email. He turned his gaze to the television. Maxine's voice behind him made him nervous.

“Are you rejoining us?” she asked. Aruba's grandmother, supportive of his effort to reconcile with his ex-wife, sat across from him.

“Do you all
want
me back in the room?”

“Of course we do. These are the bumpy moments. You have to go through these to get to better.”

“Ms. Maxine, I sounded like a monster in there.”

“Ah, you left too soon, son. Had you stayed, you would have heard Aruba talk about pursuing Winston and other things. Nobody's perfect, James.”

“Tell Ms. Darnella that,
please.”

“Darnella is the most self-righteous hypocrite I know. And that's
my
child. Don't you let that cheating heifer ruffle your feathers. She has the nerve to sit up like she hasn't done anything.”

James, a fellow southerner, remembered what his mother said about relatives: You can talk about your kinfolk, but other people
can't. He stayed mum on Ms. Darnella, pressed his lips tightly, and chose not to say what was really on his mind.

“Do you think I can have some time alone with Aruba today? I had a special afternoon planned for her, but after the therapy session, I'm not sure she'll come with me.”

“You let me handle the situation. Darnella ain't running nothing here. You might not be married to Aruba, but you two have a child to raise, and it's obvious you still love her.”

“I do.”

“And she loves you, too.”

“She said that?”

“I said you left the room too soon. She said she never stopped loving you; it was taking you too long to get yourself together.”

James pondered Maxine's words. “Screwup” could've easily been his name in the marriage. He wouldn't keep a job, frittered away their money, and cheated on Aruba with any woman who had hole and a heartbeat. He hated her for creeping with Winston, but for the first time, he realized how much he'd contributed to her bad choices.

“Ms. Maxine, do you think I'm wasting my time?”

“No.” She leaned forward and placed his hands in hers. “It will take some time, but if you want Aruba back, don't give up.”

Lance, Darnella, and Aruba appeared in the lobby area. The session had ended, and James looked at Aruba's dejected face. He stood to greet her.

“Aruba, I left the room to handle a little business. Are you hungry?”

“We're about to go to lunch,” Darnella snapped. “Without you!”

Maxine stood. “You, Lance, and I are going to the drive-thru at Popeyes so we can be in Harlem when Jeremiah gets home. James and Aruba are going to pick up her meds from the pharmacy and eat something here in Augusta.”

“Mama, she doesn't need to be alone with him.”

“Nella, let it go. Aruba doesn't need this stress from you.” Lance turned to his daughter. “Baby, do you want to go with James?”

She paused, looked at her relatives, and answered, “Yes, I do. I have some things I want to talk over with him.”

Darnella pursed her lips. She slung her purse to her opposite shoulder and headed to the parking lot. Maxine and Lance watched her leave, shaking their heads at her defiance.

“Where are you all going?” Lance asked.

“I'm taking her to the pharmacy for her medication and by the house for a meal. I'll bring her back home before nine tonight. I want to spend some time with Lil—Jerry.”

“Lord, you sound like y'all are in high school. Take care of her, James,” said Maxine.

Maxine hugged them both and left the psychiatrist's office with Lance.

Aruba and James eyed each other, familiar strangers navigating new territory.

“Did I hear you say house? I thought you were staying at a hotel.”

“I put business on hold back in 'Nap for a while, and Isaak helped me out with one of his rental properties here.”

“Oh.”

“By the way, Katrina said hello. I told everyone you're not accepting calls at this time, but everyone is lifting you in their thoughts and prayers.”

Not Bria, and definitely not Victoria.
“I don't know why. I've let so many people down.”

“Who hasn't? Let's look to the future. Can you try?”

She didn't know what to do anymore. She missed having steady employment and an active life. The low-dosage Lexapro lifted her mood somewhat, but it felt artificial. Dr. Shipman recommended
diet and exercise to get her endorphins moving and assured her the medicine was not intended to be a long-term fix.

“Where are we headed? For your medication, I mean.”

“Deans Bridge Road Walmart.”

“I can map it with my GPS.”

“Oh, you rented a car?”

“No, I flew back to Indianapolis last weekend and drove back down in my SUV.”

Your SUV? Flew without using someone else's credit? When did that happen?

“We need to get going. I'm marinating steaks and I have a surprise for you at the house.”

“James, I don't know what to say.”

“Say you're hungry.”

“I'm starving.”

Aruba walked hand-in-hand with her ex-husband to the parking lot. The new James, cocksure and strong, opened the door of his Infiniti QX56, waited for her to be seated, and locked her in. She looked in the backseat of his ride and saw appointment books, invoices, and business manuals.
Who is this man?

James backed out of the parking lot and headed to Deans Bridge Road. He held Aruba's hand, making sure he didn't say anything inappropriate. Before their first group session, each family member, including Jeremiah, was given a pamphlet about suicide. The statistics were astounding. James had no idea only 10 percent of people who attempted suicide actually died by suicide. Moreover, he found out 80 percent who died had made a previous attempt. He looked at Aruba's attire for the day. Her hair wasn't as matted as it was when he came to the hospital; however, her hair was on his to-do list for the day. His mind drifted back to the pamphlet; the material listed the first six months after hospitalization are critical to the survivor.
It pained him to know Aruba remained at an elevated risk the first year.

“What are you thinking?” Aruba asked.

“About you. I have to make sure you get meds and food in that belly of yours.”

“Is that all you're thinking?”

“No. I pictured life without you and how I would have explained it to Jeremiah.”

Aruba directed her gaze to the scenic view outside the window. She still tasted the bitterness of the sleeping pills and remembered how they lodged in her throat the night she tried to take her life. She figured no one cared about her; she'd become a burden to everyone and felt the family would be better off without her. It wasn't until her parents and members of her church family held an around-the-clock prayer vigil in her hospital room that she got it. The concern on their faces, the way they each told her how much they loved her and how empty life would be without her, all made her realize how selfish the act had been. In real time, scenes from her life flashed before her in the hospital bed: playing across the street from her parent's house with her childhood friend, Bria Hines; running to meet the ice cream truck and snagging the Good Humor Cherry Bombe popsicle the driver set aside for her; shopping at Belk's for Easter with Darnella and Maxie. Memories of the suicide attempt overwhelmed her. The image that made her swallow the pills was Winston dying in her arms.