Remembrance Page 9

  “Thank you so much. I needed to hear that,” he said with a sigh of relief.

  “Are you sure? I’m almost afraid to say something else. You might take that out of context too.” I looked at him and squinted. “You actually thought that I was trying to arrange a murder for hire? That’s the funniest thing I’ve ever heard in my life.” I burst out laughing. A few seconds later, he did too.

  When we stopped guffawing, he cleared his throat and gave me a thoughtful look. “I feel like a complete idiot for bringing up something so . . . so far-fetched about a mild-mannered, sweet lady like you. I can’t apologize enough.”

  “Charles, don’t even worry about it.”

  “Can we start this conversation over?”

  “Of course,” I said eagerly.

  Before continuing, he shifted in his seat and scratched his head. “Um . . . it sounds like your husband gets on your last nerve. Am I right?”

  “Something like that.”

  “So much that you wish he was out of the picture? How am I doing so far?”

  “You’re going in the right direction.”

  “Hmmm. Well, if aliens abducted him, you probably wouldn’t have to worry about him again.”

  “I don’t want anything that extreme.” I giggled, but then I got serious again real fast. “I think we might be headed for a separation. That’s what I was talking about.”

  “Oh,” Charles said with another sigh of relief.

  “That would be easier said than done, though. The day we got married, and he’s told me several times since, if I ever leave him, he’s going with me.”

  “That’s original. Oh, well. It looks like you’re stuck with him.”

  “I don’t know about that. I have to do something about how I feel. If I don’t, I may lose my mind.”

  “I can’t imagine living under the same roof with somebody I hate.”

  I gasped. “I don’t hate my husband. I still care about him, but . . . he just doesn’t excite me anymore. Most of the time, all he wants to do is fish and attend ball games.”

  “And you don’t?”

  “I used to go with him—kicking and screaming, though. When I started making excuses and complaining too, he stopped asking me.”

  “Do you ask him to go places with you?”

  “I ask him to go shopping, dancing, and to see romantic or sentimental movies that he’d rather not see.”

  “But he goes?”

  “Most of the time. We went to a party one night. Ten minutes after we got there, he fell asleep on the host’s couch. The last time we went to the movies, he was snoring before the movie even started. He rarely notices when I have on a new dress, or when I change my hairstyle. The bottom line is, he’s become too oblivious and dull for me.”

  “Is that all?”

  I let out a sheepish grin and hunched my shoulders. “I just don’t enjoy his company the way I used to.”

  “Well, you get what you settle for. Does he know how you feel?”

  “I haven’t told him, but he has to know that things have slowed down between us.”

  “Is it all because of him?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Well, these things usually go both ways. I had problems in my marriage, and I was part of the reason.”

  “You cheated on your wife?” I immediately felt stupid for asking such a question. I had no idea why it had entered my mind in the first place. Especially when there were so many other reasons for a marriage to have problems.

  “Not even close. She got frustrated because it was taking too long for her to get pregnant, and I didn’t take her seriously. I even told her she was being childish. That was my mistake. She accused me of not being man enough to make a baby.”

  “But didn’t your doctors say there was nothing physically wrong with either one of you?”

  Charles nodded. “True. That wasn’t enough for her, though. She got so impatient, she left me. I was alone and unhappy, and so was she. It didn’t take long for us to realize we belonged together. We reconciled and, like I already told you, we finally got pregnant. What about you?”

  “Huh?”

  “Is all the blame on your husband?”

  “What do you mean by ‘blame’?”

  “If he’s no longer happy either, do you think he holds you responsible?”

  “I . . . I’ve never thought about that,” I admitted. The notion of Eric not being happy and blaming me made my heart skip a few beats.

  “Well, as people get older, they develop different interests. They grow apart, or become dissatisfied. But there are ways to compromise. Once I resumed my marriage, I paid more attention to my wife’s feelings and needs. We started doing a lot of things to keep the fires burning. We spent as much time together as possible. But we also did things with our friends, and on our own. We burned the candle at both ends, several times a week. Her body shut down before mine, and she lost interest in the clubs and parties. But I was still out there doing my thing. That caused some friction between us. It was a good thing she got pregnant when she did—otherwise, we probably would have broken up again permanently.”

  “My husband and I used to do a lot of other things together too. We don’t even go to church as often as we used to, and that used to be our second home. He was a deacon, and I sang in the choir. I miss that, and I’m going to start going again on a regular basis, whether he goes or not. I’ve always been a spiritual person. But in the past few months, I’ve . . . Well, let’s just say I’ve been feeling too bored and unfulfilled to be around holy people.” The conversation was going in a direction I didn’t like. Rather than change the subject, I decided it was best for me to leave. “I’d better get back to work.” I glanced at my watch, stood up again, and gave Charles a weak smile. He smiled back and grabbed my hand.

  “Bea, I hope I didn’t offend you. You’ve been so nice to me.”

  I sat back down and stared at the tabletop for a few seconds. “I haven’t even told my best friend what I just told you about my husband.”

  “If you want to tell me more, feel free to do so.”

  I didn’t realize he was still holding my hand until he squeezed it. “I enjoy talking to you,” I admitted. I could see things more clearly now. I didn’t need to talk to a professional. Charles was the unbiased, sympathetic friend that I had wished I had to talk to a couple of weeks ago. He’d even given me advice I could use. I had to stop blaming Eric for the way I’d been feeling. If I could get over this glitch, I could get over anything. Even not having my kids around to smother . . .

  “Thanks, Bea. I like talking to you too. I feel so much more positive since we met.”

  “Oh? But you don’t know me that well.”

  He shrugged. “You don’t know me that well either, and you just admitted that you enjoy talking to me. And I am truly sorry I misinterpreted what you meant about your husband.”

  “You mean about me wanting to have him killed?” I couldn’t stop myself from laughing some more. Charles laughed even harder. We stopped and composed ourselves. “That was so funny.”

  “And so off-the-wall. I feel like a fool.”

  “Well, you shouldn’t. If it had been the other way around, I probably would have thought the same thing.” The more I talked to Charles, the more comfortable I felt with him. “Do you spend much time at that tent camp under the freeway?”

  He raised both eyebrows. “You know about that?”

  “Well, yeah. I happened to drive past it the day I first met you. I saw you take something out of one of the shopping carts and go into one of the tents, so I assumed you lived there.”

  “I share it with another dude. Carlos is the one that got me into doing day labor.”

  “Oh. Is that where you sleep?”

  He nodded.

  “What about heat? You had on a pajama top when I saw you, and it’s December. How do you and your friends keep warm?”

  Charles snickered. “Oh, we get real creative when it comes to th
at. We collect blankets, sweatshirts, and anything else we can use from several different sources—Salvation Army, Goodwill, and even trash cans. Sometimes I have on so many layers of clothing, I get overheated. The day you saw me outside in a pajama top, I was trying to cool off.”

  “Oh.”

  “I sleep there only when they don’t have an extra bed available at one of the shelters I go to. The first night I was on the street, I slept on the ground behind a deserted warehouse. The second night, I got jumped and robbed.”

  “Robbed? What did you have for somebody to take if you were sleeping on the ground?”

  “My shoes. I found another pair the next day in a Dumpster.”

  I cringed. “A Dumpster?”

  Charles nodded. “I only had to wear them for a week, though. The folks at Goodwill gave me a better pair.”

  I felt so much sympathy for this man, my heart felt like it wanted to break in two. “I hope you get your life back in order soon. You deserve so much better.”

  “And I’m going to get it. I still want to have a family, and time is not on my side. I can live with being old enough to be my kids’ grandfather. But I don’t think I’d enjoy them as much if I was old enough to be their great-grandfather. Maybe I’ll get real lucky and find a woman like you. . . .”

  I rolled my eyes and giggled. “I hope you do.” I sucked in some air and got serious again. “I wish there was more I could say or do to make you feel better about your situation.” Knowing that I had helped Cliff get back on track, and now hearing that I’d done pretty much the same thing for Charles, I felt like my level of confidence was going to go through the roof.

  “Bea, like I said, I feel more positive since we met.”

  “So do I.” It was the only response I could come up with, and the most appropriate.

  CHAPTER 18

  The things Charles had said to me today had lifted my spirits so high, I smiled at strangers as I walked back to work and yelled “Merry Christmas” to each one. I was still elated because of the nice things Cliff had said to me the other day, so now I was almost on cloud nine. It pleased me to know that my kindness had made such a positive impact on Charles’s life too. I was in such a giddy mood, I decided to finish my Christmas shopping this evening. I called and left Eric a voice mail to let him know I’d be home late.

  The guest list for my parties was long, but my gift list was even longer. It even included our mailman and paperboy. After work, I drove to Southland Mall in nearby Hayward. I scurried around in Macy’s, grabbing items like a looter. I didn’t even look at price tags. It was only after the cashier had rung up my purchases that I realized I’d snatched up over a thousand dollars’ worth of merchandise in less than an hour.

  Eric was peering from our living-room window when I pulled into our driveway. “Looks like you bought out the store,” he commented when I entered the living room carrying several large shopping bags.

  “At least I’m done for this year,” I said proudly. “I don’t feel like cooking this evening, so I’ll call for a pizza.”

  “That’s what I had for lunch today,” he said dryly. “I know you’re tired, but if you don’t hurry up and cook the collard greens you bought last week, they’re going to wilt. I know washing and cutting them up is a lot of work. But I would love to eat a home-cooked meal this evening.”

  Hard-core shopping usually made me snappy. If Charles hadn’t softened my demeanor, I would have told Eric to cook a “home-cooked meal” himself. “I’ll get started on them as soon as I put everything away.”

  He did a double take. “Are you sure you don’t mind?”

  “Not at all,” I chirped. “I wouldn’t mind having some greens myself.” I set my shopping bags on the floor and looked Eric up and down. “Are you happy?”

  “Happy about what?” he asked with his eyebrows raised.

  “Being married to me. Do I bore you?”

  He gazed at me from the corner of his eye. “Bea, what are you talking about? Why wouldn’t I be happy with you? And, no, you don’t bore me. You make me comfortable, and that’s all I need. Shoot! I wouldn’t trade you for five other women.”

  Tears pooled in my eyes. His last statement made me feel so good, I puffed out my chest. “Do you mean that?”

  “Baby, I don’t know what’s going on with you. If I’ve done something to upset you, please tell me. No matter what it is, I’ll do whatever I have to do to fix it.”

  “I would never do anything to hurt you.”

  “W-what? Now you’re scaring me,” Eric said, his voice cracking. He put his arm around my shoulder and steered me to the couch. “Why don’t you sit down and tell me whatever it is you’re trying to say.”

  I blew out some air as we sat down. “I don’t care what you do, I wouldn’t want anything to happen to you.”

  His jaw dropped. “Like what? And what do you think is going to happen to me, and why?”

  I let out a dry laugh and waved my hand. “Don’t pay any attention to me. I’m just talking to be talking.” I attempted to stand, but Eric pulled me back down.

  “You’re not leaving this room until I know what this strange conversation is about.”

  I had to take a deep breath before I could continue. “I said something to somebody today and they took it the wrong way.”

  “Oh?” Eric caressed his chin and gave me a curious look. “What did you say?”

  “I complained about being bored, and how I wanted to make a change in my life, so I wouldn’t be . . .”

  “What did the other person say?”

  “Um . . . she asked if I was part of the blame for the way I feel.” I didn’t like lying to Eric. But I didn’t see anything wrong with altering the truth. I would never tell him exactly what I had said, and to whom. Especially the part about him being one of the changes I was thinking about making in my “boring” life.

  “Whew!” He patted my shoulder and gave me a quick kiss on my forehead. “I’m glad that’s all it was. I was scared you were going to tell me something I couldn’t handle.”

  “What could I tell you that you couldn’t handle?”

  “Well, your having a terminal illness would be the worst. A close second would be you wanting to be with another man.”

  “I don’t think I could leave you for another man,” I said thoughtfully.

  “You don’t ‘think’ you could? That doesn’t make me feel too secure.”

  Eric looked worried.

  I laughed because I wanted him to know there was nothing to worry about. “Okay. I know I could never leave you for another man.” I gave him one of the longest, most passionate kisses I could manage.

  “Bea, I don’t know if I’m one of the things you’re bored with. If I am, I’m sorry. If you can tell me what I’m doing to make you feel this way, I’ll stop doing it. And I want you to know, right here and now, you’ve never bored me. Just talking to you brightens my day.”

  Eric’s last sentence caused me to get misty-eyed. Charles had told me the exact same thing, so I said the same thing to Eric that I had said to him: “You brighten mine too.”

  “I’m not really that hungry now, so let’s eat dinner later,” he said with a wink. And then he nodded toward the stairs and led me by my hand all the way up to our bedroom.

  CHAPTER 19

  Charles didn’t eat with us on Thursday, and I didn’t see him at Iola’s when I went there for lunch on Friday. As soon as I walked through the door, I spotted Reyes and Gayle, and our supervisor, Mrs. Snowden, laughing it up at a table in the middle of the floor. I couldn’t wait to join then.

  One thing I could say about my coworkers was that they were interesting people to know, and good friends to have. They made my job even more enjoyable. Spending time with them away from the kitchen was always a hoot. Mrs. Snowden liked to regale us with stories about her sixteen-year-old cat, her eighteen grandchildren, and her husband, a retired circus clown. Reyes always had something funny to tell us about her meddlesome mother. G
ayle was the most interesting one of all. She was a cute, freckle-faced redhead in her late thirties, who had been married and divorced four times. She was still friendly with her exes, and she told hilarious stories about them that kept everybody in stitches. But my coworkers had come earlier, and the line was moving so slowly that by the time I got up to the front, they had finished their meals and were on their way out. “The roast beef is scrumptious today, but the tea is weak,” Gayle announced in a low voice as they breezed past me.

  “Thanks for the heads-up,” I replied.

  * * *

  The three women skittered out the door, and a few seconds after I’d placed my order, Camille moseyed in. As usual, she was dressed to the nines. Today she wore a red woolen poncho over a green pantsuit, a red silk blouse, and red pumps. To top off her Christmas-colored ensemble, she had on earrings that looked like miniature wreaths. My girl was tall and had once been very thin, but now she was packing at least forty extra pounds in all the wrong places. But her face still resembled a caramel-colored Barbie doll. “I knew I’d find you here,” she boomed, prancing in my direction with her long auburn ponytail dangling down her back like a rope.

  “What are you doing in here?”

  “I had an appointment with my eye doctor this morning and I decided to take off the whole day.”

  We got our roast beef sandwiches and lemonade and headed to the last empty table. A few moments after I’d plopped into my seat and bitten into my sandwich, Charles strolled in. I finished chewing and swallowed as fast as I could. “Don’t look now. The man I told you about just walked in.”

  “What man?” Camille whirled around so fast, the bones in her neck made a cracking noise.

  Charles glanced in my direction and our eyes met. He nodded and gave me a tight smile. I smiled back and waved, and prayed that he wouldn’t come over to our table. “The one I told you about the same day I ran into Cliff Hanks.”

  “You mean the homeless dude you followed to that tent camp?”

  My jaw dropped so low, I was surprised it didn’t hit the table. “I didn’t follow anybody. And, yes, he’s the one.”