Your Love Is King, Page 3

“Well, you remember Dana Cobb, right?”

  “Dana from high school? Yeah, I remember her. She was always pretty smart.”

  Carla nodded. “Yeah, she was. Well, she’s running a medical staffing agency now. I ran into her the other day, and she says she’s trying to staff a hospital in St. Louis.”

  “Okay?”

  “Evidently, there’s a strike or something going on, and they’re willing to pay top dollar.”

  “For respiratory therapists?”

  “And nurses. We’re talking thousands of dollars per week. It’s a three-month assignment.”

  “Well, are you going?” I asked.

  She smiled brightly. “Yep, and I want you to come with me.”

  I shook my head. “You know I can’t leave here, Carla.”

  She cocked her head to the side and put her hands on her hips. “Why? Give me one valid reason.”

  “Tiff—”

  “Tiff is leaving for Atlanta in a week.”

  “Well, you know I can’t fly. They’ll try to make my big tail buy two tickets.” I was only half-joking.

  “We can drive, Marli. It’s only six hours away. They’ll give us a living allowance and set us up in an apartment. Everything is pretty much laid out for us. Plus, with the money you’ll earn, you’ll be well on your way to buying your own house. I know you’re tired of being in your parents’ place. You say so all the time.”

  “Yeah, but I just don’t know. Carla, you know me. I’m not big on changes like this.”

  Carla leaned forward and looked me straight in the eye. “Marli, you’re thirty-three years old, and you’ve been unhappy for most of your life. Don’t you think it’s time for a change?”

  I looked down at the gray nurses’ station desk. “I... I just don’t know if I can do it. Move away to some strange place, away from everything I’ve ever known?”

  She leaned back. “Well, I’m leaving in three weeks. Just think on it for a while. If you decide to go, let me know in a week or so.”

  I nodded. “Okay.”

  Four

  “Give It Up”

  It was Friday night. Graduation night—a night I had both anticipated and dreaded for a long time. I was thrilled that my only child was graduating from high school and at the top of her class, no less. But the thought of an evening in the presence of both of my parents and my ex-husband was not something I looked forward to. It was the last thing I needed, but it was something I knew I had to do.

  I sat in the Pine Bluff Convention Center arena next to Carla and wondered where my mom and dad and Tim, along with their respective spouses, were sitting. That was one of the good things about any local high school graduation—it was always packed, and unless people arrived as a group, there was no guarantee of them sitting together. Thank goodness for that.

  After a twenty-minute wait, which Carla filled with chatter about her upcoming trip to St. Louis, the graduates began to file into the arena, prompted by the opening strains of “Pomp and Circumstance.” I, along with everyone else in the room, stood to my feet as the burgundy-robed teenagers slowly marched in, all wearing bright smiles. They exuded hope for the future. I smiled as I spotted Tiffany leading the line. I nudged Carla and pointed Tiffany out to her. Carla, always the vocal one, yelled Tiffany’s name and waved at her. Tiffany looked up, spotted us, and waved back.

  After the procession, everyone took their seats. I settled into my seat and eyed the entrance that was nearest me. Although he wasn’t around Tiffany much, Darius had promised to be at her graduation. I’d texted the section I was sitting in to him but had received no reply. Maybe he hasn’t checked his phone, I thought.

  As I sat through the various elements of the ceremony, I thought about Darius’s proposition. I’d actually almost decided to let him move in. No, I didn’t love him and sometimes he really irritated me, but I didn’t relish the thought of living alone once Tiffany left for Atlanta. I guess that really wasn’t a good enough reason to move in with someone, but I’d never been a great decision-maker, and Lord knows I didn’t have a history of basing my decisions on the right things.

  When it was finally time for Tiffany to recite her valedictory speech, I thought I’d burst with pride. After all I’d been through—having her at fifteen, marrying at seventeen, divorcing at twenty-five, and then raising her on my own—she’d turned out pretty good. No, she’d turned out rather excellent, despite the dysfunction that surrounded her. I knew I had God to thank for that. He’d always watched over us, even when I didn’t realize or deserve it.

  My eyes were glued to her as she spoke, and when she was finished, Carla and I gave her a standing ovation.

  Tiffany’s name was the first one called during the awarding of the diplomas, and I thought I’d scream myself hoarse. I stood, applauded, and smiled as the other names were announced, all 300 of them, one by one. Once everyone had their diplomas in hand, and after the ritualistic rotating of the tassels, the class was presented and the audience converged on the arena floor, each person searching for his or her graduate.

  Carla hugged me, handed me an envelope for Tiffany, and then left. I made my way to the floor, weaving through the maze of well-wishers until I finally reached Tiffany, who was already surrounded by several family members—all of whom I dreaded seeing.

  My mother hugged Tiffany as Fred stood behind her with a wide, proud smile on his face. My father, Carmen, and Justine stood nearby, awaiting their turns. Tim, Tiffany’s father, could be seen making his way through the crowd with his wife, Ashley. Now, Tim was a very handsome man—tall and slim and dark-skinned with huge facial features. He reminded me of Idris Elba sans the accent. When I was younger, I thought he was the most handsome man on earth.

  Ashley was about my height and a little thinner than me. She was brown-skinned and wore her hair in burgundy and black micro-braids. She was usually pretty friendly and enough time had passed that I was over the fact that she happened to be the woman Tim left me for. Ashley had always been nice and kind to Tiffany, which was all I could ask of her.

  Tim nodded in my direction as if a simple hello would just require too much effort from him. Ashley smiled and mouthed, “Hi.” I returned her smile and then noticed Tim’s mom, Nelda, standing behind Ashley. The smile quickly faded from my lips.

  Wow, I thought, she had the nerve to show up?

  I stood back and watched as, one by one, family member after family member hugged and congratulated Tiffany. Nelda was especially enthusiastic as she grabbed Tiffany and kissed her cheek.

  “Grandma is so proud of you!” she gushed as she handed Tiffany an envelope.

  “Thank you for coming,” Tiffany said through a forced smile.

  Tiffany hadn’t been around Nelda that much. Actually, I don’t think Nelda had spent more than five minutes with Tiffany throughout the entire eighteen years of her life. She’d just never taken much of an interest in her—probably because she never really liked me.

  “Well, who’s up for a steak dinner on me?” my father announced rather than asked.

  “He knows I ain’t going nowhere with him,” my mother muttered under her breath. Fred tugged at her arm and she glared at him.

  “What was that, Edna?” my father asked.

  I sure hoped he wasn’t challenging her because, though they’d been divorced for several years, my mother was always looking for a reason to cuss him out.

  My mother snapped her head toward my father, but before she could respond, Tim said, “Well, Ashley and I were hoping that Tiff would come and celebrate with us at our house. Mama’ll be there along with all of my sisters and their kids.”

  Before anyone else could speak, Tiffany held up her hand. “Um, actually, I was hoping to spend the evening with my mom. I’ll be moving in a couple of days, so this is the only time we’ll have together.”

  There was dead silence from the group. I looked around at the faces of my family members and ex-family members and stifled a smile. That was my girl—smart, level-headed
, and not afraid to speak her mind. It was obvious that she’d shocked them all. My mother, however, was undoubtedly at least partially drunk and wasn’t about to take no for an answer.

  “Now look, I know—” she began, but was interrupted by Fred.

  “Come on, Edna. Give her the gift so we can go have our ‘happy hour.’” He tugged on the sleeve of her blouse as he turned toward the exit.

  She frowned at him, and then I suppose the thought of having “happy hour” finally registered in her mind. She handed Tiffany an envelope, kissed her cheek, and then rolled her eyes at my father before following Fred out of the arena.

  “Same old drunk Edna,” my father scoffed.

  I closed my eyes and shook my head.

  Shortly thereafter, Tiffany and I headed to our favorite restaurant. That night, Tiffany made me proud in more ways than she could have ever known.

  ~*~

  Around five the next morning, I was awakened by the ringing of my cell phone. At first, I thought I was dreaming. When I realized the phone was actually ringing, I turned over, switched on the lamp next to my bed, picked up the phone, and checked the screen. I recognized the number as Darius’s. What could he be calling for at this time of the morning?

  I frowned and then decided to let it roll to voicemail. If it was important, he’d leave a message. Then again, what could be important enough for him to be calling me at 5:00 A.M.? I shrugged and laid the phone back on the night table. I rested my head on my pillow and no sooner than I’d closed my eyes, my message alert sounded. I grabbed the phone and listened to the message which further puzzled me. The only thing I heard was several voices in the background but no actual message for me. I was just about to call Darius back when my phone rang again. It was him.

  I answered with a soft, “Hello?” and waited for Darius’s reply.

  “Hello, Marli?” inquired the voice on the other end, a voice that definitely did not belong to Darius.

  “Uh, yes. Who is this? Where’s Darius?”

  “This is Officer Garman with the Pine Bluff Police,” he answered.

  I sat up straight in the bed and felt my heart begin to race. What was a police officer doing with Darius’s phone, and why was he calling me? Had Darius been arrested? Did the police think I was into drugs, too? I was so gripped with fear that I just held the phone and my chest. I couldn’t speak.

  “Ma’am, are you still there?”

  “Um-uh-yes,” I stammered. “W… why are you calling me? Where is Darius?”

  “Um, ma’am, we’re trying to locate his next of kin, and your text message to Mr. Cotton was the last communication received on his phone. You all were to have a meeting of some sort yesterday evening?”

  “Um, well, he was gonna meet me at my daughter’s graduation. Why do you need his next of kin?”

  “Are you related to Mr. Cotton?”

  “Well, no. We’re friends. What’s going on? Where is he?” Now I was really beginning to worry.

  “Well, Ms.—”

  I sighed. “Meadows.”

  “Ms. Meadows, Mr. Cotton’s body was found near Lake Saracen about two hours ago.”

  “Body? Darius is…” My voice trailed off as the reality of what the officer had just told me began to sink in.

  Darius was dead.

  “Yes, ma’am. He was shot. We think the incident occurred around 7:00 P.M. last evening. Near the time you sent the message to him. We need to contact his next of kin.”

  I held the phone to my ear and tried to process the officer’s words. Someone had shot Darius. They’d shot him and left him by the lake like he was nothing. He was gone and he wasn’t coming back.

  I felt a single tear trickle down my cheek. No, Darius wasn’t the love of my life, but he was a human being, and no one deserved to be gunned down in cold blood.

  “Ma’am, do you know any of his family members that we can notify of his death?”

  “He… uh, he has a sister who lives here,” I said, barely above a whisper. “Her name is Shondra. Shondra Coleman. Her number should be in his phone. All of his other relatives live out of town, I think.”

  “Okay, thank you, Ms. Meadows. We may be in touch later on.”

  “Okay.”

  I set my phone back on the night table and lay back down in my bed. As I rested my head on the pillow, I closed my eyes, said a prayer, and cried for Darius and his family. Before I knew it, I’d fallen into a troubled sleep.

  Five

  “Immigrant”

  I smiled brightly and waved as Tiffany walked through the security checkpoint alongside my father. He’d only bought two tickets to Atlanta and had made it abundantly clear that my presence was not needed. He’d help her move into her dorm and purchase everything she needed once they got there. To be honest, I didn’t even want to go. I didn’t feel like flying anywhere, and I didn’t care to spend hours with my father.

  I watched as they made their way to their gate, disappearing into the bustling crowd at the Bill and Hillary Clinton National Airport. I sighed. My only child was headed off to begin what promised to be a future filled with success, and I was headed back to the town I was born and raised in. Back to a job I didn’t even like and to an empty house which had evolved from a gift to a prison.

  As I made my way through the airport and out onto the short-term parking lot, I recalled the events of the last few weeks. Everything seemed to be changing around me while it felt like I was just standing still and watching it happen.

  As I reached my car, unlocked the door, and climbed inside, it hit me. I was standing still. I was glued to the same spot, feeling the same feelings of disappointment I’d always felt. While everything around me was so dynamic, I’d become stagnant and complacent. I was perpetually unhappy.

  I sat in my car and stared out the window at the hustle and bustle surrounding the airport. I watched as people stepped out of cars or cabs, bid farewell to loved ones, pulled their luggage behind them, and headed off to their individual destinations. I started my car and was halfway to the toll booth when I decided to stop and call Carla.

  “Hello?” she answered after the first ring.

  “Hey, it’s Marli,” I replied.

  “Yeah, I know. What’s up? I’m in the middle of packing.”

  “What do I need to do to sign up with Dana?”

  “You’re going to St. Louis with me?!” she asked, excitedly.

  I smiled. “Yeah, I think I am.”

  ~*~

  I sat in the passenger’s seat of Carla’s Ford Expedition and inhaled her new cherry-scented air freshener. I was deep in thought about the events that had taken place over the previous week or so. Tiffany had flown off to Atlanta and had begun summer classes at Spelman. I’d attended Darius’s wake, having decided to forego the funeral service. I’d submitted a leave of absence to the hospital, signed a three-month contract with Dana’s staffing agency, locked up my house, and was on my way to St. Louis.

  As Carla sped along Highway 67, I peered out the window, watching the other cars and wondering where their personal journeys would lead them. I wondered about my own journey, too. We were well into our six-hour trip and some of the anxiety I’d been experiencing had subsided, but I was still feeling the pangs of uncertainty that always seemed to accompany a new experience.

  “You okay over there?” Carla asked, darting her eyes from the road to my face.

  “Yeah, I’m all right. Just a little nervous, though,” I replied, switching my gaze from the window to the radio. Some song I’d never heard before was playing, and it was beginning to annoy me.

  “Well, you shouldn’t be nervous. This is an adventure for you, for us. Besides, you definitely needed a change of pace, and I needed to get away from my own crazy life.”

  I looked over at Carla and smiled. Carla was a gorgeous woman with sepia skin that almost matched mine. She had small, expressive eyes and a small nose and mouth to match. She wore her hair in kinky twists and she had the figure of a sixteen-year-
old. She wasn’t rail thin, but I wouldn’t consider her to be overweight, either. She was blessed with an hour-glass figure that I coveted.

  Yet, even with her looks, she’d had no better luck in the love department than I had. She’d been married for eleven years but had been separated for the past several months. She’d caught her husband, Bryan, with another woman and had immediately thrown him out of the house. Their sons, Derek and Patrick, were spending the summer with their father while Carla worked in St. Louis. Carla was the strongest woman I knew. While my divorce had devastated me and nearly sent me into a full-fledged nervous breakdown, Carla hadn’t missed a beat. She’d continued to work and take care of her sons without even seeming to give Bryan a second thought.