The Bride Experiment (4 page)
Read The Bride Experiment Online
Authors: Mimi Jefferson
Chapter 5
Pecan-crusted tilapia always made Joan feel like a chef. She pulled the fish out of the oven and plated it with wild rice and a balsamic vinegar glaze, like she was preparing to present it at a five-star restaurant. She then poured herself a glass of champagne before taking her seat at the table. It was celebration time, because Tisha had moved out of her condo and into her own apartment. She loved Tisha like a sister, but living with her was starting to be too much.
Just one more month, and she feared she would have stopped liking her altogether. Everything that came out of Tisha's mouth was a Bible verse. She was always walking around with a ton of scripture cards, ready to hit somebody over the head with one of them.
Joan hated to have to pretend in front of Tisha, since she thought Joan was some sort of super Christian. When Joan joined the Singles Ministry at church, Tisha followed her. When Joan started going to Bible Study each week, so did Tisha. When Joan started taking a Bible class at a local Christian school, Tisha signed up the following semester. And now that Joan was regularly teaching at the women's meeting at church, Tisha arrived early and stayed late. She always told Joan she was the best Bible teacher she had ever heard. The compliments were sincere and constant.
Joan enjoyed these compliments, but she just wished Tisha could turn it off sometimes. She missed having a best friend she could be herself with, and she was starting to feel like a stranger in her own home. Every once in a while, Joan wanted to watch a soap opera, crime drama, or have a glass of wine with dinner, but she knew she would have to explain herself to Tisha, so she didn't bother. Tisha didn't believe Christians should watch anything with murder, sex, or violence.
She would not have understood how Joan could teach a Sunday School lesson, pray out of her heart, read the Bible every day, worship God regularly, and drink a glass of wine with dinner, occasionally.
In Tisha's world, people that drank were lumped into one big category: drunks who needed to run to the next AA meeting. Joan looked down at her perfectly plated fish on her thirty-dollar plate, and her fifty-dollar champagne in her hundred-dollar Austrian crystal glass. She stood up from her $7,000 table, leaving her meal untouched.
This elegant dinner for one was not making the anxiety she started feeling this morning go away. As she was going through her son's things, she had found James's wedding invitation. She read it, over and over, touching the engraved writing and admiring the texture of the expensive paper. How many times had she imagined her name on a wedding invitation with his? Twenty-four hours ago, Joan was so sure of herself; now she could feel the tears forming in her eyes. Joan plopped down on her sofa, buried herself underneath the oversized pillows, and grabbed her journal from off the end table:
God, why does it still hurt? So many blessings have come into my life since meeting you, but I still find myself longing for something more. Just when I thought I was over him, I had to come face-to-face with this wedding. I could go days or even weeks without having lingering thoughts about him. But now he is constantly floating through my mind. I thought I was over him. I know I'm crazy. I can't admit this to anybody but you.
God, I know I shouldn't care that James Sr. is getting married, but the closer it gets, the more I do care. It pains me to admit it, but I care. I care so much. But why now, Lord? I guess it was all the time I spent believing that one day I would be his wife.
Lord, when is it going to be my turn? How long will I have to wait? Some of those ladies in the Singles Ministry scare me. I know that you know what's best for me, but, God, many of those ladies have been waiting for a long time. You don't want me to wait that long, do you? Please don't tell me I have to wait that long.
I want somebody to share myself with or let me get real. It's not like you don't know me. God, I need to be touched. I guess it wouldn't be so bad if I saw a glimmer of hope; you know if I had a prospect or maybe a date in the last six months. But nothing. All the men I meet don't know you, so they can't know me. But, God, it is getting difficult out here. Sometimes I feel like I'm wasting away. Like I'm waiting for my life to begin. I love my son, but he's already getting so independent. In a little while, he'll be a teenager and where does that leave me? I want to be somebody's wife, maybe have another child or two.
“Mama.”
Joan turned to look at her son and closed her journal in the process.
“Yes.” Joan tried to sound upbeat.
“Is it time to go yet? Mama, did you forget?” Joan wished she could forget. Today was the day the children in James and Raquel's wedding were supposed to go to Cyclone to play and have pizza and then attend the rehearsal afterward.
James Jr. did a little dance. “Come on, Mama, let's go. Last time I went to Cyclone, I got two thousand tickets.”
Joan had the overstuffed red teddy bear on her bed to prove it. Her son, who couldn't remember his homework or when to take out the trash, remembered this statistic.
Joan went to her bedroom and changed clothes. As much as she hated to admit it, James was getting married to Raquel, and her son was in the wedding. It was time to face the truth.
In less than twenty-five minutes, the time it was going to take to drive to Cyclone, she was going to be face-to-face with the happy couple.
As soon as she turned off the ignition in front of their destination, James Jr. blurted out, “Mama, you gotta come see me jump off the dive board into the bubbles.” James Jr. jumped out of the car and waited for his mother on the driver's side. Joan had barely stepped out before James Jr. continued his pitch. “If you get into the bubbles right on target, you get fifty tokens.”
“Really?” His enthusiasm was contagious. Joan looked around for any sign of James Sr. or Raquel. Not seeing anybody, she walked to the colorful door behind her son. The entire building was silver and red and looked like a spaceship ready to take off.
Joan was opening her wallet so she could purchase a game card when Raquel walked up and handed James Jr. one. He didn't say goodbye before he took off running, joining the other children and leaving Joan and Raquel alone.
“My fiancé is in the playroom with Alexis, since she's too little to play with the big kids.” Raquel never missed the opportunity to let Joan know that she had a daughter by James. James had always wanted a daughter, and Raquel had given him one.
Joan looked around to see if she could find her son in the large game room. She knew Raquel wanted to get her angry, and she refused to allow her the satisfaction. Instead of playing any of the games, her son was stuffing his face with pizza at a table in the back of the building. James Sr.'s mother, Agnes, was seated next to him. She smiled and waved at Joan.
Raquel handed Joan a piece of metallic gold paper, with silver italic writing. “This is our itinerary for this weekend and next weekend, our wedding weekend. After we leave Cyclone, we are going to take the kids to the church for rehearsal. Only the children will rehearse this weekend. We wanted them to have extra practice before the wedding.
“James Jr. and the other children will be staying with Agnes for the rest of the weekend. So call her if you need to speak with him.”
Joan knew she could trust Agnes with her child. She grabbed the paper and turned to leave. Raquel went on, “Tomorrow they'll have breakfast, play a bit, then take a nap before having lunch. After lunch we'll have another rehearsal. You can pick him up from my mother-in-law's that evening.”
Joan had enough and started to walk faster. Raquel kept talking. “I'm having Chick-fil-A cater for the children. Does James Jr. like nuggets? Our children certainly do, especially Alexis.”
Joan nodded, trying to hold in her emotions. Raquel continued talking. “Next Friday, they will meet the adults in the wedding party for our official rehearsal. Thenâ”
Joan stopped walking right before she reached the door and spoke. “Thank you, I see you have everything under control.”
Joan remembered she had forgotten to say good-bye to her son and yelled out for him. James Jr. came and gave her a kiss on the cheek. “I'll see you on Sunday.” She kissed him on his forehead, and he ran off to join the other children.
Joan walked out the door. Raquel walked out right behind her. “You didn't think this was going to happen, did you? You thought James would never make me his wife.”
Raquel lifted up her hand to show Joan her engagement ring. “Now look at me, and look at you. I got James for life. All that free nooky you gave up, and now you don't have nothing to show for it. I've got the house, the car, the kids, and the husband. You should have known better than to mess with my man.”
“I know where and when you are getting married, my dear. Don't make me watch you eat your words.” Joan opened her car door, got inside, and started her vehicle.
Raquel looked confused. Joan rolled her window down and said, “Maybe I should come.... You know the part where the preacher says, âIf anybody knows why these two people should not be married, speak now or forever hold your peace?' Right then, I could stand up and say, âYes, I know a reason. She is a manipulative, insecure, fat, overdressed, made-up freak who couldn't keep her man happy, so he kept coming to me.'”
Joan drove off, surprised at how easily those ugly words spewed from her mouth. She felt the tears fall as soon as Raquel was no longer in sight. Who the heck did Raquel think she was talking to like that? She could have just smacked her in the face.
Joan picked up her cell to call Tisha, but before she pressed her speed dial, she hung up the phone. Tisha would not be any help. In the past, she would have offered to slash Raquel's tires or put sugar in her gas tank. But the new Tisha would insist they pray for her and wish her well. Joan was in no mood for that.
Spotting her favorite spot for ice cream, she stopped and purchased a pint of double chocolate fudge brownie ice cream and drove home, thinking of the ways she could hurt Raquel.
As Joan drove up to her condo, she saw someone standing in her designated parking spot.
It couldn't be,
she thought. This man was over six feet tall, slender, dressed well, and looked just like James Sr.
It couldn't be,
she thought. This man was over six feet tall, slender, dressed well, and looked just like James Sr.
Why would he be waiting for her? Wasn't he supposed to be at Cyclone playing with Alexis? Joan pulled up to where he was standing. He smiled, and she smiled back. Joan grabbed her ice cream from the backseat. She saw her favorite Bible lying next to it. She needed to pick it up so she could prepare for the Bible Study that she and her friends had each week at one of their homes. When she got out of the car, all she was carrying was the ice cream.
Joan had a million questions. Instead of asking any of them, she walked to her front door, with James walking beside her. She could smell his cologne and hear the clanging of his watch as he walked. She was so glad Tisha had moved out. Joan would not have been able to explain this one to her.
Joan closed the door behind James and they stood in the foyer looking at each other awkwardly. They had not been this close in a few years. Their short conversations were always over the phone, and mostly about their son. When they dropped their son off or picked him up, neither of them bothered to get out of the car.
“How are you?” James broke the silence.
“I'm good.”
James sniffed the air. “Something smells good and familiar.” James walked to the kitchen and saw the dirty dishes from Joan's unfinished meal. “This looks like the remnants of your pecan-crusted tilapia.”
“Yes, it is.” Putting away the carton of ice cream, Joan felt herself smiling. “I was going to take the extra piece for lunch tomorrow, but I guess I'll give it to you.”
Joan made his plate. She was glad she hadn't had the chance to eat all her food. Now they could sit and eat together.
The champagne was on the table, still cold from the ice in the chiller. James poured himself a glass, then took a small bite of fish, reminding Joan how refined his palate was. James loved fine food and had taken Joan to the best restaurants in Houston when they were together.
Joan eagerly awaited his response.
“Joan, you have the gift. I haven't had fish this delicious in a minute.” James complained to her many times that Raquel could not cook, and he tried to take her to nice restaurants, but she only picked over the food. She would rather have a fried pork chop sandwich and strawberry soda than braised lamb and merlot.
The feelings that were springing up through Joan were exciting and frightening, all at the same time. James looked so innocent, so sweet. She loved the way his mustache was curling up around his face as he chewed his fish.
“You remember the time James Jr. came running in like he had found the cure for cancer?” James asked.
Joan started laughing, recalling the memory. Joan mocked their son's voice, “Mama . . . Daddy . . . Daddy . . . Mama . . . Did you know I was born on my birthday?”
James laughed so hard, he had tears in his eyes. “It just wasn't what he said, it was how he said itâthe expression on his face. He was so excited. I didn't have the heart to tell him everybody was born on their birthday.”
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