The Marrying Kind

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Authors: Monique Miller

BOOK: The Marrying Kind
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The Marrying Kind
Monique Miller
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Acknowledgments
Thank you, Lord, for giving me the gift of writing. I love to be a wordsmith and bring characters to life. Thank you also to my Dad and Mom, William H. Miller & Ms. Gwendolyn F. Miller, for all of your love, encouragement and continued support. And a special thanks goes to my daughter, Meliah, for your daily encouragement that keeps me humble as you make me strive for the best so that I can be an example you can emulate.
Many thanks my sisters and brothers, Penny, De-nita, Will, Christopher, and Christina. Keep on striving to meet your goals in life—love you all!
To Anthony, I know I've said it before and I'll say it again, thank you for your help, your encouragement, your fortitude, and caring during this process. Your assistance and impartation has been divinely on time.
I cannot forget the WIC Chicks of Harnett County, NC. Thank you to: Annette, LaVonda, Beverly, Vickie, Sha'Keisha, Kerri, Jennifer, Carla, Monica and Mrs. Gaynelle, for helping with the cover and other technical stuff—like the apple Kool-Aid
And I have not forgotten former WIC Chicks in Jacksonville, NC and Durham, NC—once a WIC Chick, always a WIC Chick.
There are quite a few author friends who I have to thank each time I write a book, because they have been tremendous blessings to me. So thank you Toschia, Jacquelin Thomas, Rhonda McKnight, Suzetta Perkins, Sherri Lewis, Stacy Hawkins Adams, and Tia Webster. Keep on writing, ladies, and encouraging others as you have all encouraged me.
To my agent ShaShana Crichton, again I cannot thank you enough for your guidance and being my advocate. I am so glad you saw something special in my writing to take me as your client.
Thank you to Urban Books—Carl Weber. And thank you, Joylynn Jossel, for your patience during this whole process.
I want to especially thank the book fans, readers, book clubs, Facebook friends, and Twitter friends. Your support messages and postings continue to encourage me to build the fictional city of Silvermont, North Carolina with all of its inhabitants. And I am so glad that you want me to keep the books coming.
Thank you all for your continued support.
 
Blessings!
 
Monique Miller
Chapter 1
Travis Wayne Highgate stood in front of the Family Dollar store and jingled the last bit of change he had in his pocket. He pulled the change out and counted it. It was exactly three dollars and twenty-seven cents. He shook his head thinking about the date he'd had a few nights before. He'd spent over fifty dollars on movie and dinner with a woman who, at the end of the night, didn't even have the decency to invite him into her house. She'd given him a peck on the cheek and said she'd call him the next day. Three days later, he still hadn't heard from her, she hadn't called, and didn't answer when he called her.
He pulled out his wallet to check again to see if he missed a ten or a twenty dollar bill. After searching through a couple of receipts he'd stuffed inside, he breathed a small sigh of relief when he found two dollars folded between the slips of paper. He could just kick himself for putting himself out there, letting another woman step on his outward showing of feelings. All he got at the end of the night was a peck on the cheek and empty pockets.
Travis knew if he was very frugal, he'd be able to find enough in the freezer section to last him for another day until his next unemployment check came in. After stepping aside to let a woman and her child exit the store, Travis strode through the door and headed straight for the freezer section. He pulled out a TV dinner, a bag of Tater Tots, and a container with four Italian ices. Then he stepped over to one of the other food aisles and picked up a loaf of bread and a bottle of grape juice. Each of the items he'd picked up only cost a little over a dollar each. He already had peanut butter and jelly at the apartment.
He stepped into the line to pay for his items. As he waited, from the corner of his eye, he saw something float out of the hand of the woman standing in front of him. When Travis looked down he saw a crisp ten dollar bill lying just behind the woman's foot. He looked around to see if anyone else had noticed it. And for a split second he thought about covering the bill with his foot to retrieve it the first chance he got.
But then he thought better of it. Sometimes it felt like he had an angel and a devil sitting on his shoulders, with the devil trying to pull him in the wrong direction and the angel tugging him in the right direction. Today the angel was winning. Travis knew that nothing good came to those who did wrong.
He tapped the woman on the shoulder. “Excuse me, miss. You dropped some money.”
The woman looked down and quickly picked up the ten. She clutched it in her hand. “Oh, my goodness,” was all she said.
Travis said, “You're welcome,” thinking the woman didn't have any manners.
The woman looked at him as if he were crazy and said, “Oh, thanks.” Then she quickly averted her eyes.
Travis was perturbed by the woman's actions as she went on about her business, paying for her items and then leaving, never glancing back at him again.
“Wow,” Travis said to himself. He couldn't believe the audacity of some women. It seemed like so many of them didn't have any home training, not like his ex-wife Beryl did. She would never have not called back after a date, or not said thank you to someone helping her out.
He took a deep breath. He and Beryl were over now and he had to come to grips with that. Life must go on. He started to think that maybe it would be better for him to cut all of his emotions off and just become a player.
Once at the register the total for Travis's items came up to five dollars and fifty-two cents. He felt as if the little devil on his shoulder had given him a little thump on his head for being so honest. He then eyed his selection and asked the cashier to hold on for a moment as he put the grape juice to the side and he returned to the food aisle, where he picked up a package of grape-flavored Kool-Aid instead. He thought he remembered having some sugar at the apartment. He purchased the items and then headed out.
His cell phone rang as he stepped outside of the store. He pulled it out and saw that it was Beryl. “Well speak of the devil. You sure do have perfect timing,” he said under his breath. He pushed the end button to stop the phone from ringing and cut it off.
It was Beryl's fault that he was in this whole predicament in the first place. If only she had given him another chance. He shook his head and headed to the apartment. The closer he got to his place, Travis started feeling pretty good. In less than an hour he'd have a full stomach and even a little dessert to eat after his dinner. And to top that off, he even had a few cents left over from his purchase, enough to buy a cup of coffee the next morning at McDonald's.
But as soon as he reached his apartment door, his little bit of euphoria was deflated as he saw a folded note taped to the door with the numbers 256 printed in large black letters. He knew it wasn't anything from the post office or UPS; he hadn't ordered anything. There was a sinking feeling in his stomach with a strong inkling about the contents of the letter—an eviction notice.
He wasn't going to open the letter. He knew it would only spoil his appetite. He set the piece of paper on the kitchen counter and commenced fixing his dinner. Fifteen minutes later his food was ready, Kool-Aid and all. He pulled his TV tray in front of his secondhand recliner and popped a VCR tape into his VCR. After pressing play he sat down and started watching an episode of
The Biggest Loser.
It was one of his favorite reality shows. This episode was from a few seasons prior when he'd still had cable and was able to tape new shows.
After finishing his meal, Travis sat back in the chair to relax. And before he knew it, he was asleep. He awoke to someone knocking hard on his door. He wasn't expecting anyone and tiptoed over to the peephole to see who it was. And again his stomach felt just like it did when riding a rollercoaster at the point when it did a fast dip downward.
His landlord stood on the other side of the door, pacing impatiently. Then he pounded on the door sounding like he was using his fist. “Mr. Highgate. Mr. Highgate. If you are in there I need to talk to you about your rent.” He paused as if waiting for an answer. “Mr. Highgate,” the man said again. “Are you in there, Mr. Highgate? If you are, we need to talk about your rent payment.”
The television was loud enough to be heard outside of the door, so the landlord probably knew he was at home. Travis wished the man would just go away. His heart beat furiously as he tried to stand stark still. He didn't want to take a step away from the door for fear that the floorboards might creak. So for what seemed like an eternity he stood peeking out of the peephole, taking shallow breaths. He hoped more than anything that the man wouldn't use his master key to open the door.
Then, after what seemed like an eternity of knocking and pounding, the man finally left. It was then that Travis remembered the note that had been taped to the door when he'd come home earlier.
He looked around for it and saw it sitting on the edge of the kitchen counter. After retrieving it he opened it up and saw that it was, in fact, an eviction notice. At the top was a red stamp that said “First Notice.” According to the note, Travis had seven days to pay the late payment or he was going to be evicted. The late payment included that month's rent, as well as late fees and possible court costs if he was legally evicted.
His hands closed tight around the piece of paper. Then he moved over to the recliner and sat down hard as he tried to figure out just how he was going to pay the rent as well as the light bill and cell phone bill. Even though he was going to get an unemployment check that next day, it would still only cover just enough for the rent and late fees for the apartment. Just how was he supposed to see with no electricity, and how was he supposed stay in communication with the world if his cell phone wasn't working?
He shook his head wondering how he had gotten into this predicament in the first place. Then he remembered; it was all his Uncle Billy's fault. If it weren't for him, he wouldn't be in this particular mess of having to foot all the bills by himself.
Travis located his cell phone that he'd been charging and dialed his uncle's phone number from memory. The call immediately went to the voice mail, and Travis hung up. He wasn't going to leave a message; he'd already left a couple of messages and Billy had failed to call him back. And if Travis didn't know any better, he'd think Uncle Billy was trying to avoid him. But Travis did know better. Uncle Billy was probably caught up with some girl, to whom he was professing his undying love. Whenever Uncle Billy hooked up with a woman, Travis was usually hard-pressed to find him.
He and his uncle had grown up together. They were only two years apart in age. Travis was now thirty-six years old. And the uncle part was something both of them joked about when they were old enough to understand families and relationships. As it turned out, Travis was actually two years older than his uncle. So while Travis called Billy Uncle, his uncle called him nephew Travis.
Looking at his watch, it was almost four in the afternoon. Billy got off work at five, and if Travis started walking right then he'd get to the job just before five and catch his uncle. He pocketed his cell phone, grabbed a jacket, and turned off the TV and VCR, then stepped back over to his peephole to see if the landlord might have reappeared.
Not seeing anyone through the peephole, Travis gingerly opened the door and looked out and saw another note taped to his door. Upon opening it, he saw the words “Second Notice” stamped in red at the top of the note. He wondered if it was legal for the apartment complex to put two notes on his door in one day. But after looking back at the first note, he saw that the dates on the letters were two days apart. The complex was obviously trying to cover itself, and how was he supposed to prove that he'd gotten the notes on the same day?
Travis knew it was just another way the system was trying to work against him. He threw both papers on the counter in the kitchen and left his apartment, headed to find his Uncle Billy. Hopefully his family member would come through for him and let him borrow a couple hundred dollars to help him get over until the next month.
Travis made it to his uncle's job with five minutes to spare. He looked up at the sky, which was forming dark gray clouds. A storm was approaching. This was truly a time when he wished he had a few extra bucks so he didn't have to walk. He hoped his uncle wasn't working late because he didn't want to have to stand out in the rain. Luckily, only a couple of minutes after five, Travis was relieved to see Billy sauntering out of the office building, laughing and chatting along with a couple of guys.
Travis called out to him, “Hey, Billy.”
Billy turned and looked his way. A sheepish grin covered his face as he walked back towards Travis. “Hey, Travis, what's up, man?”
“You know what's up,” Travis said.
Billy raised his hands in a surrendering pose and said, “I plead the Fifth.”
Travis gave Billy a slight punch on his shoulder. “I called you and left several messages. What's up with you?”
“Sorry, so sorry. I did get the messages and meant to call, but I've just been a little busy, that's all.”
Travis smirked and eyed Billy.
“Okay, okay, I know, I should never be too busy for family. My bad,” Billy said.
A few fat raindrops started to fall.
“Come on, let's get to the car before we get drenched.”
Both men walked quickly as they headed to Billy's car. Travis had almost walked past it, not realizing his uncle had a new car. Once they were inside, the rain started coming down in hard sheets, causing Billy to have to wait before attempting to drive in it.
Travis looked around the interior and took in the new car smell. “When did you get this?”
“Last week. You like it?”
Travis nodded his head. “Yeah, man, this is nice.” The car had leather seats that made Travis want to sit in it forever and just relax. And he figured it must have had each and every upgrade that had been available.
“Why did you get another car?” Travis thought the car his uncle had before was nice.
“I was getting tired of that other car, and my girl has a son who just turned sixteen so I gave it to him as a present,” Billy said.
Travis did a double take. “What, you just gave ol' girl's son a practically new car?”
“Man, that car wasn't new, and she ain't just ol' girl, she is my fiancée,” Billy said.
“Say what?” Travis couldn't believe his ears.
“Yep, this player's days of playing are over. I am tired of running the game, trying to keep up with this one and that. Enough is enough. I'll be thirty-five next year.”
Travis didn't think the player lifestyle sounded all that bad. It sounded better than the boring existence he was currently experiencing. “Wow, I can't believe you of all people are settling down.” Travis shook his head. “What on earth is this world coming to?”
“I've let a lot of good women slip through my fingers in the past by playing my games,” Billy said.
“These women play a lot of games too,” Travis said.

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