Authors: Candice Dow
W
hen Steve asked if we were willing to stay the night, I honestly thought it was a joke. At 1:32 in the morning, I headed back home. He tested our endurance to a fault. As much as I want to succeed, I could have quit.
At a certain point, I couldn’t even concentrate on the script. I wondered where Fatima was. How many times had she called? Was everything good with the new property?
When I walked out of the building, I was mentally and physically exhausted. Steve requested that we come back at eight in the morning. He must be on some kind of energy drug, because this was borderline hazing and he didn’t seem affected.
I turned my cell phone on and there where eight messages. My mind was too drained to listen to them all, so I just called Fatima and gave her an update on her answering machine.
When I woke up at seven to go back to the audition, I checked my messages. My phone was on speaker as I prepared to leave. Fatima left a few messages for me to call. The intonation in her voice increased with each message. I chuckled slightly because I knew what she was thinking. Her final message started calmly.
“Rashad…” She took a long pause. “I just wanted to tell you that I will not be renewing your contract. As it stands now, your contract is due to end in two weeks and…” She sighed. “I’ll pay you until then, but you don’t have to show up anymore.” She cleared her throat. “Have a good life.”
Smoke blew from my ears. I dialed her number. She didn’t answer. As I stormed around my room angry, I remembered that I had to get out of there. I refused to deal with it at the moment—I was so close to getting my breakthrough role. I heaved. How could she do this over the phone? What an insensitive woman. Here I am breaking my neck trying to be the man that she needed and she could just fire me over the phone. Did she even consider that I could have been hurt or in the hospital?
When I arrived at the audition, I was so distracted. Fatima became my enemy, because her inconsiderateness could possibly sabotage my future. I needed to wash my hands of it. After a moment of meditation to get my mind on my goal, I concluded that this was the answer I prayed for. I turned my phone off and prepared for another full day of hazing.
W
hen I woke up and saw Rashad’s number on the caller ID, I immediately called him back. His phone was off again. I wanted to scream, because I wasn’t sure if he’d technically quit before I fired him.
Before I checked my messages, I opened another bottle of wine. My heart sank when the message date and time was stated. It was Rashad. Initially, I heard nothing but static. I prayed he had said something, anything. Finally, his distressed voice came through and I was able to make out only pieces of the message: “all day…quit…too much…won’t talk…my life…future”
I choked on my tears. All day, he thought about quitting because this is too much and he won’t talk to me for the rest of his life. Have a good future. Is that what he said? He agreed with my decision and he didn’t feel the need to be on my doorstep everyday like he claimed. I thought we had something special. As I internalized the truth, I knew I’d made the right decision to let him go. He had this planned all along.
When I couldn’t muster the courage to call Mya yesterday, I knew I’d reached an all-time low. She’s been with me through it all. When she picked up, it pained me as I confessed my failure in everything. “Mya.”
“What’s wrong?”
“I got fired yesterday.”
She chuckled. “Don’t play with me, Tima.”
“I wish I was playing.”
“No! What happened?”
Feeling the need to laugh at the accusations, I snickered. “They claim I haven’t acquired anything worth having in two years.” I laughed at myself again. “They said I’m a liability.”
“Screw them! You’re the best thing that ever happened to them. The way you’ve been busting your ass lately. They have a nerve. Forget them. You can go to another house.”
“Uh. I think I’m going to take a break.” I paused so it could seep in. “I’m just not feeling this anymore.”
“Tima, you love being an editor.”
“I used to love it. I’ve been unhappy for a long time. It just doesn’t make me as happy as it used to.”
“Tima, maybe you should take a break. Make sure you’re not letting them mess with your ego.”
I sighed. “I don’t know.”
“So, are you straight financially?”
“Well, I’ve already told Rashad that I wouldn’t renew his contract. So, that frees up all the money I’ll need.”
“You let him go just like that? What did he say? Are you guys still going to be together?”
“Well, we’d come to a crossroad anyway. I think I was taking too much time away from his life. He really wants to start focusing on his acting and…”
“Don’t tell me he’s going to leave you alone now that you can’t pay him.”
“He doesn’t even know I got fired.”
“Why didn’t you tell him?”
“I think he planned to break it off anyway. I didn’t talk to him all day yesterday and I—”
“So, did you guys break up while you were away this weekend?”
“Mya, I don’t know. All I know is that I left him a message to tell him that I no longer needed his services—”
“You did what?”
“I told him that I didn’t need him and he didn’t have to come back.”
“You left this on his answering machine? Fatima, you know I’ve taught you better than that. When did you do this?”
“Yesterday.”
She shouted, “Yesterday! Fatima, he was at a big audition yesterday. I haven’t had a chance to talk to Steve to see how he made out, but one way or the other I’m sure he was stressed.”
I huffed. “I don’t care.”
“What do you mean you don’t care? The man had a busy day and you decided you want to break up with him over the phone.”
“Well, it doesn’t matter now, because he called back to say that he thought it was a good idea and he hopes I have a good life.”
“Tima, are you kidding?”
“I wish I was.”
“I don’t want to jump to conclusions because I’m sure he had a pretty drilling day and it’s possible that he just wasn’t in the mood to deal with it.”
“It doesn’t matter. He agreed that we should be apart.”
She sighed. “Well, he was just a stand-in anyway. Maybe it’s best this way. He can pursue his dream and you can find real love.”
Though I agreed, I yearned for Rashad. What was he thinking? How was this so easy to let go? What about all the love I felt when we were together? What about us? How was I supposed to handle another death?
“Fatima…Fatima…”
I sniffed. “I’m here.”
“Honey, do you need me to come over there?”
“It just hurts so bad.”
“Fatima, I think you should call him again.”
“Mya, I can’t keep throwing money away like that. At least when I had a job, I could justify tossing away a hundred and ten thousand dollars a year, but not now. Derrick would be so disappointed in me. I should be putting that money into something that’s going to make money for me, because I’m not sure I’ll ever go back to work.”
“Why don’t you call him and explain the situation? Let him make the decision.”
“Mya, did you hear me when I said he made his decision? I will not call him and beg him to be my man. Bad enough, I paid for the relationship. Let me walk away with
some
pride left.”
She sucked her teeth. “Okay, stubborn. You know him better than me.”
She knew when to push and when to pull, because all of sudden, she had jumped on my side. After a brief silence, she said, “Screw him, Tima. If he doesn’t want to be your man without the money, he’s not worth it. This game has gone too far anyway. It was silly for us to think this would end smoothly.”
As she sat on the phone damning the idea we conjured up, I needed to hear a voice of compassion.
I told her that I had to go and I called my mother. She instantly heard distress in my voice. “Fatima, you don’t sound good.”
My sniffle became a sob, as my mother pleaded with me to tell her everything. I decided not to share my relationship saga, but I told her how I was fired. Though the emotions I expressed were a result of Rashad, not my job.
“Come home for a few days, baby.”
“I’ll see. I don’t know.”
“You need to be with family right now.”
As she continued to convince me, I logged on the Internet and searched for flights. Before I actually confirmed a reservation, I thought I should at least have a verbal exchange with Rashad. When I got off the phone, I called him again and his voicemail greeted me once more. I decided not to leave a message. If he had gone as far as cutting his phone off, he obviously didn’t want to talk.
Sniffing all the way through the process, I bought my ticket to Huntsville. Then, I curled up on my couch and reread old gossip magazines to submerge myself in other people’s dramas.
It crossed my mind a few times that maybe I should start my own magazine. Derrick had already created the blueprint. All I needed to do was put as much energy as he put into it. I sucked my teeth. Then, I’ll be dead, too.
L
uckily, we were done by seven-thirty and Steve had narrowed it down to five soldiers, because this was clearly worse than boot camp. I’d pushed my own drama to the back of my mind, but as soon as I came back out of the building, I immediately wondered how Fatima could do what she’d done. After a few more random chats with Steve, I understood Fatima a little better and I felt I could never make her happy. It’s funny, maybe she should pursue acting. I thought we were headed somewhere. But as I replayed her message for the twentieth time, it was obvious that I was the only happy one.
As much as I was angered about our break up, I guess she came into my life for a reason. I would have never believed I would own property in New York. Although I wanted more from her, she didn’t owe me anything.
My mother looked shock when I walked in the house. She said, “It’s good to see you.”
I chuckled. “Good to see you, too.”
As I kissed her cheek, she patted my back. Boxes lined the wall as she had already begun to pack her stuff to move into her newly renovated apartment. I sat down beside her. “You’re ready to get out of here, huh?”
She nodded. “I’m ready. I can’t wait.”
“Access Hollywood” played on the television and I gazed at it. She laughed. “Why are you all into this trash?”
Instantly, that put Fatima to the forefront of my mind. Feeling the need to mend the ache in my heart, I chuckled and stood up. “I’m not watching this.”
I headed to my room and checked my phone every five seconds. She hadn’t called. She hadn’t recanted her statement. I covered my face with my pillow. After evaluating where my life was headed, I realized Fatima was cheating herself out of the final product.
A
s I stood on the steps waiting for the car to take me to the airport, I looked up the street and saw Rashad. My heart smiled and I was so thankful that he’d come to question my irrational words. I had trotted down the stairs to meet him when I realized it was a bad look-alike. My head hung as the fake Rashad passed me.
When the car pulled up, I paused to look around. Maybe the real Rashad was near. I sat inside the car and hesitated closing the door. Then I knew—there was nothing keeping me in New York.
On the plane ride to Alabama, I was able to listen to my thoughts. I’d lost touch with Fatima and didn’t know where to find her. How did I ever stoop so low as to pay for companionship? This is never where I expected to be. Derrick and I were supposed to build an empire. Now, I’m here, trying to fight the battle of this world alone.
When my mother came to the airport with almost the entire family packed in her minivan, I knew we were in for a celebration. My family should receive an honor for the Eleventh Hour Barbecue. They party for everything and, of course, there had to be a party for the return of the long-lost Fatima. Before we pulled up to the house, I could smell the grill.
“Who’s coming?”
“Chile, everyone is already here. We ain’t seen you in almost eighteen months.”
I didn’t realize it had been so long. I’d abandoned my roots. When I stepped out and onto my parents’ two-acre lawn, I questioned why. I walked to the back of the house and my daddy wore his chef hat as he checked on the pig roast. I hugged him.
“Hey, Daddy. Thanks for doing all this for me.”
“I know you don’t eat like this in New York, so I got to take care of you.”
I greeted all of my other relatives that came to celebrate my homecoming. How could I take this free love for granted? As my family and I exchanged stories, their dialect always made me giggle. I often had a Southern drawl again when I got back to New York. Being around all of my good country cousins made me want to stay in Alabama and escape the drama. They were just happy for the hell of it. We glided across the lawn doing the played-out “Booty-call” line dance. I drank nearly a keg of beer to numb my heart. By the time everyone began to leave, I was an Alabama girl again. I was fittin’ to move back home as I walked around barefoot helping my mother straighten up.
When everyone was gone, my issues resurfaced. I checked my cell phone just in case Rashad had a change of heart, but I was terribly disappointed. My sister and my mother came into the house shortly after me. We sat in the living room with my grandmother and chatted.
Granny asked, “Tima, have you been with another man since Damon died?”
I chuckled. “Granny, his name was Derrick.”
Granny curled her lips. “It don’t matter what his name was. You ain’t answer my question.”
“Granny, I can’t tell you that.”
My sister said, “You know Granny thinks she’s a sex therapist.”
We all laughed longer than necessary. Granny huffed. “You got to get under a man to get over one.”
I stretched my mouth open. “Granny.”
She sucked her gums. “I haven’t been old forever.”
My mother chimed in, “Did you cheat on my father?”
“Nope.”
Then, my mother said, “So, what do you know about getting under another man?”
“Your father died when I was fifty-nine. I still had a lot of iron in the fire.” My grandmother giggled at her own joke and we shook our heads.
Suddenly all eyes were on me. My mother raised her eyebrows. “So, are you dating?”
I played up the lonely widow sigh. “It’s just so hard to find someone comparable to Derrick. You know?”
Granny raised her eyebrow at my mother. “Huh?”
My mother clarified, “Someone that compares.”
Granny laughed. “Fatima, you so siddity it’s sickening. Ain’t nobody going to compare. All mens is different.”
She sure could slaughter the King’s English. I giggled and my mother said it again to confirm that I got the message. “Fatima, nobody is going to compare. Everyone has their own special qualities. You can’t make another man act like Derrick. What’s most important is his character. As long as he respects you, is understanding, cares about you, and has his life together, that’s what’s important.”
“I know.”
Granny said, “Well have you slept with any other mens?”
“I told you.”
“You said they ain’t compare, but you didn’t say you haven’t slept with ‘em.”
“No, Granny. I haven’t slept with another man.”
She and my mother conversed with their eyes like this was something they had discussed. I tried to direct attention to the television. My twenty-year-old sister chimed in and confirmed they all had discussed my love life. “Tima, you have to stop looking at yourself as Derrick’s wife. You’re single now. You have to get back out there and look for the next man in line.” She smiled. “It’s been almost four years.”
Granny chuckled. “Lawd, you musta been switched at birth cuz you sure ain’t take after me.”
My mother interrupted Granny’s grunting. “Fatima, Felicia is right. You’re too young to call it quits. It’s not fair that you are a young widow, but you have to put that portion of your life behind. You still have time to have another fulfilling relationship.”
I nodded and tried to understand what they were telling me. What did everyone else see that I didn’t? How was I supposed to just forget all the dreams me and Derrick had shared?