Silver Lining (6 page)

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Authors: Wanda B. Campbell

BOOK: Silver Lining
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After a light knock on Kevin's office door, she heard him invite her in. All hope and optimism vanished when Marlissa stepped inside and found Kevin having lunch with Reyna.
“I . . . I'm sorry. I didn't know you had company. I . . . I'll catch you later.” Marlissa set the box down on his desk and turned to make a quick exit.
“Marlissa, don't leave,” Reyna called from behind. Marlissa stopped, pasted a smile on her face, then turned around. “How have you been?” Reyna asked, now standing next to Kevin, whose eyes were glued on Marlissa.
“I'm fine, Reyna. How about yourself?” Marlissa was determined to act like a lady—a saved lady.
“We're wonderful,” Reyna replied as she placed a hand on Kevin's shoulder. “We're just finishing up lunch. There are plenty of leftovers. Would you like some?”
Marlissa could have sworn she saw a smirk on Reyna's face. “No, thank you.” Marlissa smiled. “You're the expert on handling leftovers.” Before Reyna could continue the catfight, Marlissa made eye contact with her husband. “Kevin, I'm sorry for interrupting your lunch date. Maybe—”
Kevin cut her off. “It's not a date. Reyna brings me lunch from time to time, that's all.”
Marlissa glanced over to see Reyna glaring at Kevin.
“I assume you saw Tyson today?” Kevin asked.
“Yes, that's why I'm here. I wanted to thank you.”
Kevin checked his watch. “My first afternoon patient should be ready; maybe another time?”
“Sure,” Marlissa said, and then retreated toward the door.
“You've picked up some weight.” Reyna had to throw one more dagger. “Does that mean you're attending AA regularly?”
Marlissa left before she reached across the desk and slapped both Reyna and Kevin. Until the judgment was signed, Kevin was still her husband, and she didn't like seeing him with his girlfriend. Marlissa was so angry at herself for thinking that she could have another chance with Kevin, she kicked the wall while waiting for the elevator. By the time she made it to her car, Marlissa was in tears. Trying to collect herself enough to drive, she phoned Leon and explained to him that Kevin was seeing Reyna.
“Calm down. It's not over yet.” Leon sounded unusually calm to her.
“I know, but it feels like it.” Marlissa pouted. “I know it's a long shot for me, but I never imagined he would ever be serious about Reyna Mills!”
“Brat, give it some time—”
“Hold on, I have another call.” Marlissa placed Leon on hold and answered the incoming call.
“Marlissa, are you free for dinner on Thursday or Saturday? We can talk then.” It was Kevin.
Marlissa was too stunned to say much or to ask how he had gotten her number, and she was too mesmerized by his deep, suave phone voice to care. “I'm off Saturday evening.”
“I'll meet you at Mexicali Rose at six o'clock.”
“Fine.”
Marlissa was about to press the end call button when Kevin added, “Thanks for the pie. It's delicious.”
“You're welcome.” Marlissa was so happy, she forgot Leon was on the other line. She placed her phone back on the clip without telling him good-bye. “I've got a car and a date with my husband,” she sang all the way back to the insurance company.
Chapter 7
“T
his is ridiculous, wearing a turtleneck two weeks before spring,” Starla scolded herself, trying to hide the evidence of Leon's last visit with the boys.
She knew it was risky to have him linger around after the boys were in bed, but things were going so well. The boys quickly adjusted to Leon's presence, and Montel's behavior in school had improved drastically. Truth be told, Starla enjoyed having Leon around; he made her life feel normal again. His visits reminded her of the security and stability she experienced in their earlier years; and the attention—Leon was never short on affection when it came to her. That's why today she had on a turtleneck to hide her neck from Lewis.
Lewis wouldn't understand why she would let the man who'd abandoned her and their two children touch her again. Lewis wasn't the recipient of Leon's skills, so he wouldn't understand. Leon, an average-looking man, always handled her like he was created just to please her, which was why she nearly made love to him on the couch last night. “Thank God for common sense,” she whispered. In Starla's opinion, making love to Leon would have been a major mistake. She did love him, and he was her husband, but she wasn't ready to completely reconnect with him. She'd lost too much when he left. More than a home and financial security, Starla had lost her trust and faith in Leon.
When they married, they'd vowed to always be there for each other; to never put anyone or anything before the other. She'd held up her end of the bargain, but when David died, Leon pushed her away, forbidding her from being there for him. What hurt the most was that Leon threw their relationship away for a bottle, something that caused him more harm than good. He chose the comfort of a cold bottle over her warm body, which shredded her self-esteem.
Did she still love him? Yes, and she always would, but traveling down that road again wasn't a chance she was willing to take. What would happen the next time tragedy struck? The uncertainty was too great to overlook when there was a more stable alternative.
Starla had long ago recognized Lewis's interest in the boys as his way of getting closer to her. She didn't discourage or encourage his advances; more like ignored them. When Leon wasn't around that was easy to do. She didn't have to think about her feelings or make any decisions about her marriage. She was simply the abandoned woman with two kids. But between Leon's desire for reunification and Lewis's interest in her mounting, Starla was forced to deal with her feelings.
Was she attracted to Lewis? No, but Lewis, being ten years her senior, could offer her the stability and security she longed for. Lewis, a successful businessman, presented himself as conservative and saved. He never drank and wasn't prone to risky behavior. Lewis was also noble, never forcing his feelings on her. Instead, he gave her the time and space she needed to sort through her emotions. “I'll join you in prayer,” was what he told her when she shared Leon's request for reconciliation. The boys adapted to him easily, too, although now they mentioned their father more than they did Lewis. The funny thing was that the boys never mentioned Lewis to Leon. It was like they were holding on to Lewis just in case their father disappeared again.
“Mommy, Deacon Lewis is at the door,” Montel called from the living room.
“I'll be right out.” Starla pulled her braids back into a ponytail and wondered if it was a good idea to allow Lewis to take her and the boys to the preseason baseball game. She was sure to burn up in that turtleneck. “Forget it,” she grumbled, and changed into her Oakland A's T-shirt. “So what if Lewis sees my neck? I don't have to give him an explanation about what goes on between me and
my
husband.”
Starla greeted Lewis with a big smile minutes later. If Lewis saw the red spots against her caramel skin, he didn't act like it. As usual, Lewis greeted the boys first, then Starla.
“Are you ready?” He smiled at her.
“Lead the way.”
That went well,
she thought, until Lewis buckled the seat belt in his Escalade.
“I see the visits with the ex are going well,” he said casually.
Starla faked interest in a passing billboard. “The boys are enjoying him.”
“It appears that you are too.” Lewis half smiled. “You must have received an answer to your prayers.”
“Not yet.” Starla smiled back.
“I'll turn up the heat then,” Lewis said lightheartedly, but Starla knew her behavior infuriated him when his brakes screeched midway through an intersection.
 
 
Leon took a break from studying. Renewing his contractor's license was harder than he'd expected. A lot had changed in three years, but Leon believed that God would give him the grace to obtain his license, and the finances to restart Star Construction. He prayed every day for God to help him retain the knowledge he needed for the state exam, but finances were another story.
Outside of tithes, rent, and basic living expenses, every dime he made from his two jobs at two different gas stations went to Starla and the boys. With his personal bankruptcy, it was going to take a miracle to secure a business loan. But miracles were something God specialized in. He didn't have money, but he had a whole lot of faith. He walked over and fell onto the couch; his mind instantly went to his last visit with his family.
Things were progressing well. The boys felt comfortable enough to call him “Dad” instead of “Leon.” Starla was softening too, but, then, he'd known that given enough time and the right touch she would.
“Have you seen my keys?”
Leon sat up and smirked at Marlissa. Just like his blood sister, Debra, Marlissa had mastered intruding on his quiet time by demanding his attention.
When he didn't verbally respond, Marlissa slapped his shoulder. “Come on, Leon, I don't want to be late.”
Leon smirked again. “Woman, if you didn't want to be late, you wouldn't have gone for a hair, manicure, and pedicure appointment on a Saturday afternoon. It's not like the brotha's going to see your feet anyway,” he said, referencing the brown mules she'd slipped her feet into.
Marlissa raised an eyebrow. “You never know. Besides, I feel better when my feet are pretty.”
“Brat, relax. Dr. Jennings expects you to be late. He's married to you, remember?”
“That's why this date is so important, I have to show him that I've changed.”
Leon looked down at his wristwatch. “You won't show him tonight. It's 5:55 and Mexicali Rose is ten minutes away.”
Marlissa yelled out in frustration, “Where are my keys?” Leon laughed uncontrollably, and that infuriated Marlissa more. “What's so funny?”
He stood and marched her to the bathroom mirror. “Oh,” she moaned. Her keys were hanging around her neck.
 
 
Kevin took a sip of Coke, leaned back in his corner booth seat, and absorbed his surroundings. Being a lover of authentic Mexican food, his favorite spot had always been Mexicali Rose. Located on the edge of Oakland's Jack London Square, Mexicali Rose was a popular hangout spot for both the weekday after-work crowd and weekend partygoers. He and Marlissa, who also loved Mexican food, had spent many evenings trapped in the very booth Kevin now sat in, emerging once in a while to share a slow dance on the crowded dance floor.
Kevin checked his watch; it was 6:10. Marlissa wasn't late yet. Marlissa had a self-made fifteen-minute grace period. He was confident she would show by her response to finding Reyna in his office. Kevin hadn't missed the commingled expression of hurt and anger, he just hadn't addressed it. He hadn't planned it that way, but it was way past time for Marlissa to get a taste of what she'd been dishing out. What Kevin didn't like was Reyna implying that they were a couple.
“Hey, handsome, mind if I join you?”
Kevin hadn't seen Marlissa approach the table, and was glad he hadn't, for fear he might have choked on his drink at the sight of her. She was beautiful, dressed simply in jeans and a V-neck pullover sweater. She'd worn similar outfits on most of their visits there, but now her jeans looked a whole lot better. She also used to greet him in the same manner.
As a courtesy, Kevin stood and waited for her to be seated. “I took the liberty of ordering for us.”
“You knew I'd be late.” Marlissa smiled.
“Some things never change.”
“Chihuahuas, not pit bulls,” she mumbled.
“Excuse me?”
She cleared her throat. “With the help of God, people do change.”
Unprepared for her response, Kevin said nothing, opting to take a swig of Coke.
The waitress placed a glass of iced tea in front of Marlissa, and Marlissa smiled at Kevin. “You still know what I like.”
“As I said, some things never change.”
“Kevin, I wish you'd soften, because I'm not leaving until we've made peace.”
He ignored her declaration.
“This place hasn't changed much.” She looked around, trying to make small talk. “Do you still come here often?”
Kevin looked at her like she'd said something wrong before answering. “Marlissa, I haven't been here since the last time you and I were here. Too many memories.”
Before she could respond, the waitress set a small plate in front of them, then a mountain of Carne asada and
pollo
nachos. The steak half was for Kevin; the chicken for Marlissa.
Kevin bowed his head and said grace, but Marlissa studied him. Kevin remembered everything. “Maybe all is not lost,” she whispered once Kevin concluded the prayer.
As if time hadn't passed, the two dug in like old times: Marlissa, careful not to touch the guacamole, and Kevin the beans.
“Thank you for the car. I really wasn't expecting that after everything that's happened,” Marlissa said.
Kevin finally held eye contact with her for longer than a second. “Marlissa, I don't hate you and I don't wish you any harm. The reason I gave you the car is because you needed one, and, remember, that was my present to you for becoming my . . . well, you know.”
“But can you give me your forgiveness?” Marlissa blurted. He didn't answer, so she pressed on. “Kevin, I am so sorry, but I can't change what happened. I need you to forgive me. Please, it's important for me to have your forgiveness.”
Kevin dropped a chip back onto the plate and leaned back against the booth. “Marlissa, I'm trying to forgive you,” he answered honestly. “I have to if I'm going to have a future.”
“Does your future include Reyna?” Marlissa asked directly.
Kevin shifted in his chair. He didn't know the answer to that question. Marlissa took his silence for his answer.
“How long have you been dating?”
“We're not,” he finally answered.
“It didn't look like that the other day.”
Kevin smiled; Marlissa was jealous. “Green doesn't suit you.”
“And Reyna doesn't suit you. Now open up.” It was their tradition to share their half with the other.
Kevin gazed at her, but it wasn't a cold stare. “Come on,” she prodded.
Kevin opened his mouth and she gently fed him the loaded chip, but not without smearing his mouth with sour cream. In the old days she would have kissed the sour cream away. Tonight she used a napkin. As her fingertips dabbed the corners of his mouth, Kevin held her gaze.
“Your turn,” he said. His anxiousness surprised him.
“Sorry, gorgeous, but if I get any bigger—”
He cut her off. “Marlissa, you're beautiful. I . . . I mean you wear your size and hair well.”
“Thanks,” she said, then calmly took his hand in hers. “Kevin, can we please call a truce and try to be friends? I know you're moving on with your life and I'm trying to move on with mine, but I need your friendship.”
Kevin swallowed hard, trying to suppress the lump that threatened to choke him. Why did she have to sound so sincere, and why on earth did she have to be so beautiful? Why was he even there with her in the first place? Kevin didn't trust himself to speak, so he just nodded his consent.
They sat there for a long time talking about church. It wasn't until Kevin used his left hand to take a swig of Coke that Marlissa realized she was still holding his right hand. He didn't say anything and neither did Marlissa. Kevin was sharing with her the details of his nomination for Physician of the Year at Sutter Hospital for his work in repairing retinal and corneal defects, when the music changed from the festive beat to a slow, mellow tune. It was one of their favorites; one that always made him think of her.
“Dance with me,” Marlissa insisted. Kevin was taken aback by her request. “Please, I won't bite.”

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