A Lova' Like No Otha', Page 2

  Tasha took my hand and we joined the bridesmaids in the hall. But a moment later, Brandi, one of my hostesses, rushed past the bridesmaids, making her way to me.

  “Zoe!” Her face seemed as white as my bridal gown.

  “Are they ready for us?” Tasha asked.

  “Almost,” Brandi replied, breathing as if she'd just run a marathon. She paused to catch her breath. “But that's not why I came over.” She lowered her voice so the bridesmaids couldn't hear. “Girl, can we go back into the dressing room for a minute? We need to talk.”

  “Now?” I couldn't imagine what she had to say that couldn't wait until after the ceremony.

  “Now,” Brandi insisted, giving me the eye that something wasn't right.

  Tasha and I looked at each other; then she grabbed the train of my gown and moved it so I could retrace my steps.

  Back inside the dressing room, Brandi closed the door. I wanted to sit down, but I didn't dare wrinkle my dress. “Well?” I asked, holding up my hands impatiently. “What's so important? Is my slip showing? Do I have food in my teeth? What?”

  “I thought you should know,” Brandi said, her fingers intertwined so tightly the knuckles went white. “I saw Devyn kissing another girl.”

  My pulse instantly started racing, but I tried to calm myself, keeping my breaths even. “Well,” I responded, as if I weren't a bit concerned, “he was probably saying goodbye to an old flame. You know what a big flirt Devyn is. Was,” I said, correcting myself.

  “It wasn't a peck,” Brandi said. “It was a serious kiss. And there's more. After they let up, he and the girl walked back into his dressing room with their arms wrapped around each other. I stuck around, keeping my eye on the door and praying there was nothing really going on. But, Zoe, they were in there for a long time. And when they came out, Devyn wasn't wearing his tuxedo anymore.”

  “You don't know what you're talking about,” I exclaimed, unable to come up with a better response. I glanced at Tasha, who just stared silently and wide-eyed at Brandi.

  “Oh, yeah?” Brandi retorted. I could tell that my friend was annoyed that I didn't believe her. She continued: “Well, when Devyn came out, dressed in his regular clothes, and that girl followed him, I knew something was up. And when they started talking to the pastor and Devyn's best man, I figured that I'd better tell you.” She paused, then added, “I thought you'd want to know.”

  I couldn't speak around the lump in my throat. I shook my head, attempting to clear my mind. “There's no way Devyn would do what you're saying. It can't be true.”

  But my words had barely left my lips when I heard a knock on the door. Tasha looked at me, silently asking if I wanted her to answer it. She didn't always have my back, but I knew she did then. So I nodded.

  The door opened and there stood my groom, wearing jeans and an unironed brown T-shirt. And holding some chick's hand. She had a waterfall hairstyle that was tinted blue, and she wore a small gold nose ring. Her extra-long acrylic fingernails were painted in myriad colors and designs. One of her front teeth was capped in gold. What a joke.

  Tasha was the first to move. She walked over to Devyn. “Who is this?” she asked, flicking her hand in the girl's face.

  Devyn glared at my maid of honor. “Tasha, like always, you've got your nose stuck in other people's business. Please leave so I can talk to Zoe in private. You too, Brandi.”

  Tasha and Brandi looked at me. I shrugged, letting them know that it was okay. But I knew that they would be standing right outside the room, waiting for the first chance to jump on Devyn if I called.

  Tasha and Brandi slowly sauntered toward the door. As they passed Devyn, they rolled their eyes.

  He stepped inside the room, the tacky girl still clutching his hand. A moment later, he whispered in her ear. From the way her eyes shifted, I could tell that she didn't agree with what Devyn was saying. Finally, she turned and left the room. But not before she sized me up and laughed.

  Devyn closed the door and walked toward me.

  “Dev-yn,” I began, trying not to sound too whiny I didn't want to. But I couldn't help it. “Our wedding is going to begin at any moment. Why aren't you dressed? And who's that girl?”

  He gently grasped my arm and led me to the chair where I had sat minutes before getting my makeup done so that I could look beautiful for the man I loved. “Sit down, Zoe. Please,” he said softly.

  I was no longer concerned about getting wrinkles in my dress. I was too frightened to care. I nervously plopped down. “We really don't have time for this, Devyn. Our guests are waiting. We're getting married in a little while.”

  He bit his lower lip and stared at a corner of the floor. “I am getting married, Zoe. Just not to you. I'm so sorry.”

  “What?” I exclaimed, my breath coming in gulps.

  “That woman with me—her name is Aisha. I've known her for a little over a year, ever since I got that job as bank manager in Tampa Bay. We work together. She's a teller.”

  I stared at Devyn as if he were speaking a foreign language.

  “About eight months ago, we started going out to lunch together, staying late after work a few times. And…well…”

  “What are you saying?”

  He walked to the other side of the room, turning away from me. “Aisha told me a few minutes ago that she's pregnant…with my child.”

  All the blood drained from my face. I wondered if there was a paper bag in the room, in case I needed to breathe into it to keep from passing out. This couldn't be happening.

  “I love you, Zoe.” Devyn's voice cut into the haze in my mind. “But I love her too. I thought I wanted to spend the rest of my life with you. But when Aisha told me about the baby…things changed.”

  I stared at his back. Even with all that he was telling me, he still wouldn't face me. He couldn't look into my eyes and tell me this mess.

  Before I knew what I was doing, I stood and flew over to him. When he turned around, I slapped him hard across his cheek. The sound of my palm's meeting his flesh echoed throughout the small room. “You bastard!” I hollered. “How could you do this to me?”

  I screamed and punched him in the chest, moving my arms like a wild animal. He didn't budge. Devyn never raised his hands. He just stood there, taking my blows.

  Moments later, the door swung open and Tasha burst into the room with Devyn's best man and roommate, Chase Farr, right behind her. It took the two of them to pull me away from Devyn, moving me back to my makeup chair.

  “Come on, girl,” Tasha said, kneeling before me and still holding my hands. “You don't want to go out like that.”

  Though tears still filled my eyes and my heart, I nodded and took deep breaths.

  “That's the way to do it.” Tasha's voice was soothing.

  I glanced over at the corner where Devyn stood with Chase, whispering and looking at me like I needed to be committed to some mental institution. But I kept breathing deeply, wanting to calm myself.

  I heard someone step into the room, and turned to the door. Aisha stood as if she belonged there. Then she walked slowly toward Devyn.

  I broke from Tasha to cut her off. The long train of my gown slowed me down—but only a little.

  “What kind of a girl would come to another woman's wedding and steal her groom?” I yelled.

  The girl tried to walk around me, ignoring me and my question. I grabbed her arm and raised my fist, knowing I could take her if it came to that. Though she looked ghetto, I too was from the streets.

  “Don't you hear me talkin' to you?”

  Chase grabbed me around the waist and led me away. At 6 feet and 200 pounds, he easily pulled my 5-foot 5-inch, 115-pound frame into a corner, turning me away from Devyn and Aisha.

  “Come on, Zoe. You have too much class for this,” he mumbled into my ear.

  When I looked up into Chase's sincere eyes, I saw his tears that matched my own.

  Chase had been Devyn's roommate at the University of Miami, where he was a star fo
otball player too. I knew he always liked me. I could tell by the way he stared at me when he thought I wasn't looking, or by the way he spoke to me—in a gentle, loving tone. He was always there to console me every time I caught my man cheating. But he never pursued me because he knew I was in love with his best friend, no matter what Devyn did. Although Chase often told me I could do better than Devyn, I guess I never believed him until now.

  “What's going on?” a new voice asked. I turned toward the door and saw my brother, Alonzo, standing with my mother beside him. Alonzo was supposed to be giving me away since our father was deceased. He had been looking forward to the wedding almost as much as I had.

  I turned back, looking deep into Chase's dark eyes. “I can't handle this. I've got to get out of here.”

  “I'll go with you.”

  I took two steps toward the door, then stopped. “I can't leave. All my friends and family are here.”

  Tasha touched my arm. “Don't worry about anything here. I'll handle it. Just go with Chase. Everything will be fine.” She lifted my purse from the table and gave it to me.

  I hugged her, then rushed past my mother and brother and the other bridesmaids, who were still lined up in the hallway, now whispering about what was going on. I fled through the church doors, with Chase right behind me.

  The day was exactly the way it'd been this morning—dark, gray and ugly. My elegant wedding dress collected a layer of mud along the hem as I trudged to my Ford Probe.

  Getting into my car would have been hysterical to watch if I hadn't been so…well, hysterical. The crown of my veil caught on the top of the doorway, yanking out the carefully placed bobby pins, which in turn pulled out several strands of hair. I winced, then hollered and grabbed my veil, pushing it back onto my head. It sat crookedly and part of the white mesh draped over my left eye. I plopped into the driver's seat, but most of my dress remained outside the car.

  “Zoe, wait. Let me help you.” Chase tried to stuff in as many layers of the satin dress as he could before I grabbed the handle and slammed the car door shut, catching the muddy hem in the frame.

  Chase hurried around to the other side of the car while I dug through my purse for the keys.

  “Ouch!” I exclaimed. The veil pulled my hair again now that it was wedged between my back and the car seat. Finally my frantic search produced keys and I started the engine.

  Just as I got the car started, Devyn ran up and pounded on my window. I glared at him through the glass. He looked like a fool standing in the rain, his naturally curly hair drenched and flat. Then I wondered, who looked like the bigger fool—him or me?

  “I don't have anything to say to you,” I yelled, jamming the gear into drive.

  Devyn flew to the front of the car and planted his hands on the hood. I revved the engine with my right foot, keeping my left foot pressed hard against the brake.

  “Hold up,” Chase yelled. “You can't run him over. I'll talk to him.”

  I returned the car to park, then took my foot off the gas pedal. Chase jumped from the car. I watched the two, standing and being pelted by the rain, as Chase tried to talk to Devyn.

  I rolled down my window, just enough. “I just wanted to apologize,” I heard Devyn say, “and tell her I never meant to hurt her.”

  “You've said enough already,” Chase replied. “You've been pulling this junk on her for years. Dev, she's finally had enough. Now, leave her alone.”

  “But—”

  “Let her go, man.”

  As they continued, I lowered my eyes and turned inward. I felt empty—there was nothing inside me. I'd lost it all—everything that was important to me.

  Without thinking, I put the car into drive again and inched forward. It made the men stop talking and they stared at me, their eyes wide. In the next second, they both jumped out of my way and I screeched off, leaving them both behind.

  The rain had turned the streets into rivers. So once I turned on two wheels from the church's parking lot, I slowed down, maintaining that steady pace. I drove, with no destination in mind. I aimlessly roamed the streets. But twenty minutes later, I found myself at the park—where my perfect outdoor wedding was to have taken place.

  After pulling into a parking space in the empty lot, I reached behind and ripped off my veil. Then I grabbed the tape player and cassette box off the seat and opened the door. My enormous dress billowed out of the car as if it were grateful to be free. With my veil in one hand and the tape player and cassette box in the other, I stomped toward the gazebo, not caring that my dirty, tattered dress would now also be wet.

  I stood right outside the redwood circle. Even with the wind and the rain, a few white crepe paper streamers still clung to the roof of the gazebo, like they were holding on to a memory. This was all that was left of the decorations that my friends and I had excitedly put up the previous night when there wasn't the slightest hint of any storm.

  For several moments, I stood, with the rain beating down on me, staring at the banner still hanging across the archway. It screamed CONGRATULATIONS! in blue letters outlined in gold.

  “Congratulations,” I muttered. “That's a joke.”

  I tripped up the three steps and then plunked down on a wet bench inside the gazebo. My dress was now drenched with tears and rain. I stared at what was left of my veil before I tossed it into a nearby hedge. I opened the cassette box and pulled out my Yolanda Adams tapes. I searched the covers and saw what I was looking for—the album Through the Storm.

  I inserted the cassette into the tape player, ignoring the wind that had kicked up and the hail that had started to fall. But when the gazebo walls began to rock from strong gusts, I grabbed the tape player and cassette box and dashed back to my car.

  Stuffing my dress into the driver's seat was even more difficult now that it was wet and muddy.

  Sitting inside my Probe, I wondered where I could go. The church was out of the question because guests might still be there—or even worse, Devyn might be hanging around, waiting to see if I returned. I couldn't go to my mother's apartment in the projects because it was so small and I knew I wouldn't have privacy. The reception was supposed to be there, and you know black folks—even though the wedding was off, I'm sure people were planning to go over there and get some free food. And I was sure that my friends and family had probably gathered there to discuss my humiliation.

  So, I sat with the hail beating its rhythm on the roof and hood of my car. For a moment, a thought played through my mind. I could go to Orlando. Devyn had booked a honeymoon suite at Disney World. It seemed only fair that someone should enjoy it. And that someone could be me.

  I pushed the play button on the car's cassette deck. The hail was beginning to let up as I listened to Yolanda sing about the storms of life. I compared the weather outside to the blow I'd just received from my fiancé.

  After a moment, I noticed that the beat of the song matched the slap of the windshield wipers. But both sounds were drowned out by my sobs.

  “Lord,” I prayed, “I don't understand why You didn't give me the desire of my heart. I know You want what's best for me. But right now, this sure hurts!”

  In addition to the hurt, I was afraid. I couldn't imagine what tomorrow would hold for me. I had quit my job at the Marriott as a hotel management trainee; I had talked my way out of my apartment lease; I had donated most of my belongings to charity the weekend before. All to be with Devyn. Now I had no husband, no job, no money and no home. Everything I owned—other than the stained, ragged wedding gown clinging to my damp skin—was in the two suitcases in the trunk of my Probe.

  I let my tears flow, though I carefully maneuvered through the rain outside, still not really knowing where I was headed. But after only a few minutes, I could feel the presence of God. I knew that Jesus was holding me in His arms. I knew that no matter how much I hurt, God would heal this wound. Just like He'd healed all my other ones.

  There were so many times that God had rescued me. I remembered when my fat
her passed away. I was a sad little five-year-old girl sitting on the floor by his favorite chair, just hoping he'd walk back through the door and sit in it. He always sat in that old dusty chair. And when he was comfortable, he reached for me and let me sit in his lap till I fell asleep.

  I wasn't the only one who was sad. My mother had cried for two weeks straight. Her tears could have made a garden grow. She loved my daddy. Though I was young, I knew it. They hugged all the time.

  She was angry with him, though, about a month after he was gone. She cried, “Why'd you have to go to the store in that storm? I told you I didn't need any wine. Dang it! You would still be here if you had just listened. Now you're gone and we have no money. I hate you.…I hate you.” My brother calmed her down and later she apologized to my dad at his grave. Yep, I had no doubt she loved him. Sadly, though, he'd be the only man she'd ever love. Or maybe though it was brief, at least she felt deep love once in her life.

  I didn't know how I'd go on after my dad's death. I was sure I'd never be happy again. But God stepped in and worked everything out. Within weeks, I began to feel better and healed more every day, so I knew I'd be okay this time too. I was standing on His promise that He's the same God yesterday, today and forever.

  I recited what I believed in my mind. I believed that God could do anything except fail. I believed that He would bring me the right man, the right job, the family I longed for. He would do all these things and more. I just had to be patient and understand His timing.

  The Scriptures where Jesus had calmed a storm at sea when He was with His disciples came to my mind. He had uttered simple words: “Peace; be still.” I needed that miracle of peace to calm my storm.

  By the time Yolanda's song ended, I was beginning to feel a part of the peace that I wanted. It was then that I decided not to go to Orlando. It didn't make sense to run to another city for comfort when I needed to run to Jesus. It was His serenity that I craved. Calmly I drove back to the church.

  My eyes widened with surprise when I drove into the church's parking lot. It was still packed with cars. I had suspected that some people would still be here, but not this many.