Homecoming Weekend (7 page)

Donna smiled a lot but said little, making her hard to read. She ordered a Cosmo, too, and stood by patiently as Jimmy, Carter and Barbara shared stories of their college days and greeted many other old friends they had not seen in some time.

Finally, after about thirty minutes and another shot of tequila, Jimmy asked Donna to dance. The DJ was playing a head-bopping mixture of current hits and old tracks that had the dance floor pumping. But when he got to “Let Me Clear My Throat” by DJ Kool with Biz Markie and Doug E Fresh, Jimmy was ready to transform into Jimbo, the life of the party.

“It's pretty cool to be partying like this at three in the afternoon, isn't it?” Jimmy said into Donna's ear as they danced. Sweat was developing on his forehead.

She smiled. “Why didn't you bring your wife?”

“If I did, I wouldn't be able to dance with you,” he answered. And that was Jimbo—Jimbo liked to flirt. Even if he was with his wife and caught a buzz, he'd flirt with her. In this case, he was away for the weekend and decided it would not hurt to have some fun—as long as he did not cross the line.

They left the dance floor smiling and returned to the bar area. More and more of their old friends emerged. Jimmy saw his old intramural basketball teammates, Bruce and Westbrook, and they reminisced about playing Spades all night and stealing bread, bologna and French fries late at night from the 7-Eleven near their apartment.

“What about all the times we went to Pizza Hut at Military Circle,” Bruce started.

“Oh, yeah,” Westbrook jumped in. “We put two dollars' worth of gas in Jimmy's car and that left us with about six dollars between us.”

“Six dollars?” Donna said. “How could you eat off six dollars at Pizza Hut?”

“Easy,” Jimmy explained. “What we did was this: We got a table and ordered a pitcher of beer, a salad and two large pizzas with sausage and pepperoni. So, the waitress gives us the bill. It's about five or six times more than what we have.”

“But we went in knowing that would be the case,” Bruce said. “That's why we parked over by the main entrance to the mall and not in the Pizza Hut lot. So, we take the bill and ball it up. We leave about three dollars on the table as a tip to the waitress and then one-by-one walk right past the cash register where you pay and run to the car.”

“Y'all were bold to go in there and eat like that when you didn't have the money to pay for it,” Stephanie said.

“We were tired of eating Steak-umms and fries,” Westbrook said. “When you're young, dumb and hungry, you take those kind of chances.”

“The sad part,” Jimmy said, “is that you
still
try to walk out of Pizza Hut without paying today, ten years later.”

Everyone laughed and Jimmy felt as free and loose as he had since he was a college student. He envisioned Monica there telling him “don't be mean” to his friends.

His buzz was intensifying—and it was just about four thirty. But that did not stop him from leaving the group and heading to the bar. That's how he was as Jimbo; he didn't like the party to stop.

Carter and Barbara slipped away, too. They had held it together for almost ninety minutes. They needed a few private moments. So, when Jimmy came back from the bar, Barbara checked with
Donna to make sure she was okay, and she and Carter left The Mansion and went to his car in the parking lot.

Without saying a word, Carter leaned over from the driver's seat and initiated a long, passionate kiss that was so hot he had to turn on the air conditioner when their lips finally parted.

Barbara wiped her face and took in a large amount of air. “Carter,” she said, “we have to talk.”

That alarmed him. That was not Barbara's way; she just said what she had to say. That was one of the qualities about her that he admired; she was decisive. Although morally he knew it ate at her that she was unfaithful to her husband, she made the tough decision to be involved with Carter and acted on it.

“What's wrong?” Carter said. He was trying to find a CD with soothing music but stopped his search.

“I really wanted to come to Homecoming for two reasons,” she started. “One to see you. You know how I feel about you. I love you. I hate the situation I'm in—being in love with you while married to someone who really doesn't deserve this. Most days I'm able to ignore the conflict and go on with my life. But I know that's because I'm in California and you're in New York.”

“What are you saying, Barbara? That you want to stop communicating with me,” Carter said. “You think that's going to miraculously make your marriage turn into what you want it to be?”

“Carter, I wasn't finished,” she said. Barbara sat up in the passenger seat, as if what she had to say was so important she needed to change her posture.

“What I'm saying,” she went on, “is that what you and I have been doing for the last five years is wrong. My husband is a good man and if he ever found out, he would be devastated. My whole family would be. His whole family would be, too. He doesn't deserve this.”

Carter's heart sank. He got what Barbara was getting at. He
always worried about Barbara eventually not being able to continue with the adultery. She was not some hoochie who decided to fool around on her husband with her college boyfriend at homecoming. That's what she did, but it was not that simple.

She could not deny five years ago that the relationship they'd had at twenty years old actually was the best and most rewarding relationship she'd ever had. She felt alive with Carter. They enjoyed each other's presence and challenged each other and brought a youthful joy that remained in their souls all this time later.

They broke up because that's what most young couples do after graduation. His career path took him to New York, hers to California. They tried to maintain their romance, but the distance was too vast to overcome. So, it faded and they eventually lost touch. Three years passed before they reconnected at the Best of Friends homecoming party five years ago at Lake Wright.

Almost instantly, they realized the flame that had burned as college students had not extinguished. They danced and laughed and caught up on each other's lives after three years of no communication. Both were married at the time and content—but not happy. And their reconnection that night was powerful.

They sealed their night with a peck on the lips that turned into a long, sloppy, passionate kiss like the ones they used to share late at night in Carter's 1973 Duster he would park in the lot in front of the Twin Towers. Their affair began then with once-a-year meetings at Homecoming.

“I can't believe I'm doing this,” Barbara said the next year, as they lay in bed at the Renaissance Hotel in Portsmouth, across the river from downtown Norfolk. “But the truth is that I never stopped loving you.”

“Same here, baby,” Carter said back then. “I'm even jealous that you're married with kids. That was supposed to be us.”

“You're married, too, and I don't like it—even though I'm
married,” she said. “This is crazy. This is not me. But . . . my heart is with you. It kills me to say that as someone who is married with a family. But I can't lie to myself.”

Carter's marriage was more unsteady than Barbara's. He did not have any children and his wife, a flight attendant, was attractive and smart. But she was not Barbara. They divorced after the third Homecoming rendezvous, when Carter's guilt overcame him.

He told Barbara, “I didn't get divorced because of you. I got divorced because I love you. I thought it was too unfair to my wife that I had another woman on my mind in everything we did. It was the hardest thing I've ever done, but it was the right thing to do.”

That act—and his reasoning—made Barbara love him even more. And it increased her guilt. So, in the car outside the day party, she was prepared to give Carter the news that would make his Homecoming weekend far more dramatic than he anticipated.

“Carter,” Barbara said, “I left my husband three months ago. The marriage had to be not what I needed for me to be doing what I've been doing with you for five years. I know it was only once a year, but I broke my vows. Going back home after those homecomings was awful. It took me a week to get back to normal, to try to forget how I wronged my husband.”

Carter did not hear anything after she said, “I left my husband . . . ” In that instant, he thought he was dreaming. He loved Barbara, yes. But he liked her married. It meant there was a limitation on how far they could go, how much time they could spend together, even how often they could talk. That was fine with him because he learned in his marriage that he was not the settling-down type.

Her being divorced meant she would have more time to communicate with him, more time to see him, more time to infringe on his time. All that made him uneasy.

“What?” Carter said. He tried to control his shock and dismay. “Are you serious?”

“Yes,” she said. “I thought you would be happy, Carter. You said you didn't get your divorce because of me. Well, I got mine because of you, because of us.”

Carter's head spun. He was conflicted. The reality of Barbara's divorce struck him like lightning. While he did love her, he was especially attracted to Barbara because she was available only on a limited basis. Having her at homecoming was enough. Her being divorced meant her free time opened up, and he was not sure how to feel about that as it related to him and spending more than a Homecoming weekend with her.

“I'm surprised,” he said. “We talked and exchanged e-mails a lot in the last three months. You never said anything. And you're still wearing your wedding ring.”

“Well, I didn't want a bunch of questions from people this weekend, so I put it back on,” she explained. “But I received the divorce decree in August. It's over.”

Carter looked off, away from Barbara.

“What's wrong?” she asked. “Please don't tell me you're not happy.”

“Of course, I'm happy,” he lied. “If you're happy, I'm definitely happy. I'm just surprised because you never said anything.”

“I was going to tell you my plans earlier this year,” she said. “I decided it was something I should tell you in person. I didn't want to freak you out over the phone. But it seems like that's what's happening now anyway.”

“You should have told me—but I'm not freaking out,” he said. His mind had settled. He figured that with her in California and him in New York, they could not see each other but so often anyway, married or not. He could still live his bachelor's life and enjoy his love affair with Barbara once or twice a year.

“Well, I hope
this
doesn't freak you out,” she said. Carter's head snapped toward her.

“What now?” he said.

“I accepted a job in New York with the company I was with in San Diego,” she said. “I needed a clean break. I needed to get out of California. So, I made an inquiry and ended up getting the position.

“So, if you really want me, as you have said, then this is your time to have me, to have me the right way, as we always talked about.”

Carter had no retort. He was dumbfounded.

“You're moving to New York? When?” he managed to get out.

“In my mind, the way this played out was you smiling and hugging me and telling me you love me,” she said.

He wanted to tell her that he lived in reality and this new reality was not what he expected—or wanted. But he leaned over and hugged her. It was not a sincere hug. It was a comforting hug. Barbara had made moves that dramatically changed her life—and they could change his, too. But he could not act as if he did not welcome her news.

“You know how to bring it, don't you?” he said, pulling back and with a smile. He could see that his show of teeth eased Barbara some. “You've made some big moves. I guess we have a lot to talk about.”

“We do, Carter,” Barbara said. “But I want you to be happy about this. I know this is a lot to handle. And now I wish we had talked about this throughout the whole process. I was thinking it would be such a good surprise and I love surprises.”

“Oh, you accomplished that mission ‘cause my ass
is
surprised,” he said, again smiling.

Barbara managed a grin. And then silence fell over the car. She
was not comfortable with Carter's reaction (no matter how hard he tried to play off his discomfort), and he was not comfortable knowing she would be moving with her kids to his city.

Finally, Carter said, “Well, I think we should go back in and have a drink. I need one.”

“Oh, I thought we were going to talk,” she said. “But okay, I guess we can talk later.”

Sensing her anxiety, he reached over and put his hand on hers and then gave her a kiss on the face. “You could use a drink, too,” he said.

Tranise, Mary and Charlene

A
t Norfolk International Airport, Tranise stood off to the side as Mary greeted their old roommate, Charlene, outside baggage claim. After they put her bag in the trunk, Tranise came up from behind and tapped Charlene on the shoulder.

Charlene turned around and was confused by the person in front of her. She leaned back and studied her friend that she had lived with for four years.

“Tranise?” she finally let out. “Tranise?”

“Yeah, girl,” Tranise said. “I know it's been some years but come on now.”

“Oh, my God. Where the hell you been, girl?” Charlene said as they hugged. Charlene was five-foot-ten and burly, more than two hundred pounds. She engulfed Tranise with a bear hug so tight Mary had to intercede. “Wait, Charlene. Don't smother the girl,” she said. “Damn.”

“I can't believe this,” Charlene said, turning to Mary. “Where you find this heffa?”