My Soul Cries Out (18 page)

E
ven though I thought I did a good job of formulating a business plan, we decided to hire a business consultant to make sure we were on the right track. We met with him right after the New Year.

When his secretary led us back to his office, I was surprised by how young he was. And how fine he was. Alex Thompson was the color of molasses, had to be about six feet two, muscular and broad-shouldered, with a stunning smile.

We shook hands. “I'm Monica Harris, and this is Alaysia Zaid.”

“Alex Thompson. It's a pleasure to meet you both. I'm excited to hear more about your business idea. Please have a seat.” His office was decked out to impress with expensive contemporary furniture and black art on the walls.

We sat down on one side of his conference table with me in the middle. Alaysia let me do all the talking. I explained our overall goals then pulled out my tentative spreadsheets.

He looked over my figures for a while then sat back in his chair. “I'm not sure why you came to me. Looks like you've got this thing figured out. Who did all this?”

Alaysia spoke for the first time. “Monica. She's got quite a business mind.”

Alex nodded. “I'd say. If you weren't working on starting your own business, I'd snatch you up and have you join mine.”

I blushed. “We did it together. It was both of our idea.”

Alaysia kept bragging. “Yeah, it was our idea, but you were the one who did all the paperwork.”

Alex leaned closer to me. “Where'd you get these skills? You have a business degree?” The intensity of his eyes reminded me of Kevin.

I leaned back. He was approaching the edge of my personal space. “Yeah, from Barnes and Noble. I sat in there for a few hours reading business books.”

Alex laughed. Way too much for my stupid little joke. “A sense of humor too. I like that.”

I cleared my throat and shuffled through the papers. “Do you think my estimation of the startup capital is accurate? We want to move forward as soon as possible.”

We crunched numbers for a while and decided we could do things cheaper if we bought the equipment in phases as the business expanded. We talked about possible locations, marketing options, and did a mock timeline for getting things going. I don't know if I was overreacting, but he seemed to keep staring at me, or leaning into me. Maybe he was one of those close people.

An hour and a half into the meeting, Alaysia started doodling on the notepad she'd brought with her. I figured I'd cut things short and plan to meet with Alex again soon and not drag her along. She had the attention span of a three-year-old when it came to the business aspects of the business.

I looked at my watch. “Look at the time. When can we set up our next meeting?”

“You can let my secretary know on the way out when's the best time for you.” We stood and walked toward the door. When we shook hands, it seemed like he held my hand longer than was professional. “I almost hate to take your business because then I can't ask you to dinner. I have a strict rule about mixing pleasure and business.” He smiled the overly confident smile of a gorgeous man who's used to getting the girl.

I didn't know what to say.

“Well, you know, eventually the business arrangement will end, and then your rule won't be a problem.” Alaysia didn't have three words to say the whole meeting, and now she wanted to talk?

I silently made plans to murder her in her sleep while I smiled a gracious smile at Alex. “I appreciate your ideas and input today. No way you're going to weasel out of taking our business.” I knew my face was red. “I think we can make this work with your help and expertise.”
That's right, girl. Keep him on track and focused.

Alaysia waited until we left his office, pulled out of the parking lot, and drove down the street before she let out a screech. “Girl, that man was fine, runs his own business, and was obviously interested in you. What's your problem?”

“Whatever, Alaysia. He was just being nice.”

“Nice? Girl, get a clue. That man was hitting on you.”

“Yeah, right. You're reading too much into it.”

Alaysia gave me a strange look. “He asked you out. He didn't ask both of us to dinner. In fact, he completely ignored me and pretended you were the only one in the room.”

“That's because you didn't say a word the whole meeting.” I turned the heat on full blast to combat the January chill.

“Then he held your hand like he didn't want to let go. Read the signals, girl. Oooowee, he was a hottie.”

“Not Miss Celibate calling someone a hottie. Could it be? Is she stepping out of the convent and into the real world again?”

“Not me, girl. He only had eyes for you.”

“Yeah, he's probably a fat girl vulture.”

“Fat girl vulture?”

“Yeah, those men who want a quick, easy piece, so they prey on the fat girls with low self-esteem. The fat girls are flattered by a man taking interest in them so they fall for it, and next thing you know, they're giving up the panties.”

Alaysia shook her head. “Do all full-figured women have these complexes or is this just your warped world?”

I shrugged.

“Did it ever occur to you he might be interested in you because you're beautiful and smart and can put together a business plan that rivals his just by reading some books?”

I shrugged again. “Not really. He's too fine to be interested in a fat girl.”

“Would you stop calling yourself that? It's getting on my nerves. That's my best friend you're dogging out.” Alaysia frowned. “You need to add a self-esteem class to our business plan, because if any of our full-figured clients think like you, they're gonna need it.”

“Whatever.” I turned the heat down a little.

“Seriously, though, if he asks you out again, are you gonna go out with him?”

“I doubt it.”

“Why not?”

“Two-year Kevin wash-out period, remember? It's barely been a year.”

“All right, two-year wash-out period. Tick tock, tick tock. I hear them eggs getting older by the minute.”

“Shut up, Alaysia.”

“Hey, let's go to Camelli's Vegan Vegetarian. I'm starving and I don't feel like cooking.”

I knew every vegetarian restaurant in Atlanta. We went to all of them so much, the waitresses knew us by name.

I ordered the barbeque tofu sandwich and Alaysia got the vegan nachos. The whole time we ate, I talked a mile a minute about the business plan. Alaysia still wasn't interested.

“Just make sure I have a yoga studio and a massage table and a good weight room. You can do whatever else you want.” She crunched into a blue chip.

“I was thinking about a demonstration kitchen where we could do healthy cooking classes. And I was also thinking about classrooms where we could teach people about chronic diseases and prevention.”

Alaysia nodded, dipping a chip in her soy sour cream and salsa.

“And we could have a meditation room.” What did I say that for?

Finally, something Alaysia was interested in. “Yeah, and I could do sessions and teach meditation, help people reach a state of higher consciousness. I wonder if we can find someone to do Reiki and past-life analysis.”

Oh, no. Last thing I wanted was to turn this into a New Age haven.

As we left, Alaysia ranted on and on about higher powers and selling life crystals and all sorts of other babble that had the Holy Spirit screaming on the inside of me. I would have to tell her I didn't feel comfortable with all that stuff and I didn't want to do it as part of our business.

Alaysia was so busy talking, she didn't see a young man approaching us. He was staring at Alaysia and seemed to be walking right toward us. I was used to guys trying to kick game to Alaysia, but he had this strange look on his face. I held my purse a little tighter, although he didn't look like a criminal. He was pecan-colored with beautiful, long, thin dread locks and big, brown eyes. Something looked familiar about those eyes.

He got so close to us, I was scared until he said, “Alaysia?”

When she looked up at who was calling her name, she gasped as if he stabbed her through her heart.

“Khalil?”

A
fter the shock registered, Alaysia took off down Glenwood Street, running as fast as her long legs could carry her. Khalil and I looked at each other, then took off after her.

“Alaysia, wait!” Khalil yelled.

I broke into my fastest run. Even though his eyes looked calm and he didn't seem angry, I needed to have my girl's back. I had taken enough kickboxing classes that I could tear a brotha up if he was trying to get some revenge.

Khalil stopped running and called out to Alaysia. “Please, stop. I just want to talk to you.”

I ran past him and caught Alaysia and grabbed her arm. I spun her around and saw her face filled with tears, eyes filled with panic. “Alaysia?”

She opened her mouth but didn't speak. Her eyes begged me to save her, but I didn't know what to do. Khalil approached us slowly, his hands held up as if he feared Alaysia would take off running again.

“I can't believe it's you. Oh my God.” Khalil reached out a hand to touch Alaysia's face.

He put his arms around her. “Oh my God, I prayed I would find you again.” She didn't move.

I didn't know whether to give them a private moment or stay there to protect Alaysia. The decision was made for me when I started to step back and Alaysia death-gripped my arm.

Khalil let go of Alaysia and turned to me. “Hi, Monica. Good to see you again. Can I have a minute?”

I nodded and started to back away, but Alaysia's grip on my arm got tighter. Made me remember my bicep workout from earlier that day.

Khalil looked down at Alaysia's grip on my arm, then up at her fear-plastered face. He shook his head. “I don't want to hurt you. Alaysia, I—” He reached out to touch her face and she bristled.

He looked at me for help, and I looked at Alaysia to figure out what to do. She looked at me and I saw the twelve-year-old Alaysia who lost her mother and father in the same year, the fifteen-year-old Alaysia who lost her grandmother and grandfather the same year, and the Alaysia of a few years ago who lost her baby and lover at the same time.

“Take me home.” She breathed the words out in a whisper.

I looked at her, then at Khalil, then back at her. “Alaysia, don't you want to—”

She gripped my arm tighter. “Monnie, take me home.”

My eyes spoke an apology to Khalil, then I led Alaysia back to the car. He followed us at a distance. “Alaysia, please talk to me. I can't lose you again. All I've wanted to do for the past two years is find you. I know it was a shock seeing me. I know you might need some time, but give me some way of getting in touch with you. Please.”

Alaysia kept walking fast, staring at the sidewalk. When we got to the car, I put her in the passenger's seat and walked around to the other side.

Khalil stopped me. “Monica, please, can you give me a number or something?”

I didn't know what to do. In his eyes, I saw nothing but pure love. I knew how much Alaysia loved him.

“Give me your number.” I whispered it.

“Huh?” Khalil's face registered blank.

I leaned closer. “Your number. Give it to me.”

“Oh.” He stood there for a second as if he didn't know his number and didn't know where to find it. He finally fumbled in his wallet and pulled out a card. “Please, Monica. Make her call me. I love her. I prayed for God to bring us back together. I know this wasn't a coincidence. If she doesn't call me, will you call to let me know she's okay?”

I nodded and stuffed the card in my pocket.

I
got in the car and looked over at Alaysia. “Laysia, are you—”

“Drive drive drive drive drive.” She pounded on the dashboard each time she said it.

I started up the car and took off, leaving Khalil staring at us driving away.

Alaysia let out an eardrum-bursting scream and then a deep, gut-wrenching cry. She cried all the way to the house. I led her upstairs to her bedroom, took off her shoes, and laid her in the bed. I sat next to her, rubbing her back until she finally cried herself to sleep.

 

 

The next morning, I got dressed for yoga class, but didn't hear Alaysia bumping around in the kitchen, making our protein shakes. I knocked on her bedroom door. “Laysia, time for yoga.”

“Can you take my class this morning? I didn't sleep well last night.”

I pushed open the door. Alaysia lifted her head and peeked at me through her tangled hair. Her eyes looked like she had been in a fight.

I went over to hug her, but she rolled away from me.

“Can you give me some time alone?”

I stepped away from the bed. “Okay.”

I quietly closed the door behind me.

 

 

When I got back from the gym, I poked my head into her room. Alaysia was still in the bed.

“Aren't you gonna get up?”

“No. I'm fine.”

“You want something to eat?”

“No, I'm fine.”

I closed the door. I wanted to stay and make her talk to me, but I decided to give her the space she wanted. I'd make her come out tomorrow.

The next two days, I did Alaysia's yoga class and took her training clients. She never came out of the room. Never ate. I couldn't stand seeing her like this.

Almost as if propelled by an imaginary hand, I went to the jeans I had on the day we saw Khalil, and pulled his card out of the pocket. I looked down at the card. “Khalil Johnson, ministerial student, Atlanta Interfaith University.”

Atlanta Interfaith University? Khalil was a Christian? Becoming a minister?

I peeked in to make sure Alaysia was asleep and went into my bedroom and closed the door. I dialed the number.

“Hello?”

“Khalil, it's Monica. Alaysia's friend.”

“I'm glad you called.” I heard him let out a deep breath. “Is she . . . is Alaysia okay?”

“No. Not at all. That's why I'm calling. I hope I'm doing the right thing. I don't know what to do. She's gone to this . . . other place.”

We were silent for a minute.

“Can I come see her?”

“I don't know if that's the best idea.”

“Please. Trust me. I don't want to hurt her. I never should have left her like I did. I want to make that right. I . . . I love her so much, Monica. You've got to believe me.”

“I do. I believe you.”

Should I give him the address? If he showed up, Alaysia would know I called him and might not forgive me. But why not? She needed to deal with this to move on with her life. It was time for her to do what she preached to me all the time.

“Monica?”

“Yeah, Khalil. I'm thinking.”

“If it helps any, I'm a Christian now. I know Alaysia told you the whole story about what happened between us. I've forgiven her, and I just want her to forgive me for leaving her like that.”

“I know, Khalil. She's never forgiven herself. It haunts her.”

“I can understand. I was messed up for a while after I left. If I hadn't found Christ, it would have eaten me up. Since I got saved, I've been praying God would bring us together again. Please, Monica, I want her to know I forgive her and love her and I want her to forgive me. Can you tell her that for me?”

I paused. “Why don't you come tell her yourself?”