Brothers and Wives (27 page)

“Girl, please don’t tell me you’ll throw all this away over some age-old fling.”

“I didn’t, which is great, but I’ll admit I thought about it. Does that make me a bad person?”

“It makes you a normal person. You thought about doing some bad, but you didn’t go through with it. If everyone who ever thought about killing someone went to jail, there’d be nobody on the streets.”

The rest of January is filled with a rush of things to do. Scottie and I pick up the matching ring set from I W Marks.

Sola helps me review final details for the food and beverages. We went with Jimmy Dillard’s Famous Fifth Quarter Seafood & Catering and voted to place fried turkey at the top of the menu. For people with dietary restrictions, we added grilled chicken breast as an entrée alternative.

Summer agrees to oversee details regarding my floral
arrangements; she also volunteers to check the guest list and note those who haven’t responded to the invitation.

“Who is Shay Fleming?” she asks me one day while sitting with me at my dining room table.

“Hell if I know.”

“Maybe one of Scottie’s family members?”

“I dunno. I think I’ve met just about everyone in his family unless she’s someone coming from out of town. Maybe I’ll give him a buzz and ask.”

“Hold up before you make that call. How do you like that necklace?”

This afternoon I’ve been collecting my something old, new, borrowed, and blue that I plan to wear during the wedding. Summer lent me a dazzling string crystal and pearl necklace that her mother gave to her before she passed away.

“Summer, I’m honored you’re even letting the jewelry out of your sight. It’s beautiful,
beautiful
. Makes me feel like a woman posing on the red carpet.”

“That’s a good thing, sweetie. Now go ahead and call your fiancé.”

I laugh and dial Scottie’s cell. He answers with a hearty, “How’s my favorite girl in the world?”

“Assuming you’re talking about me, I’m good.”

“Funny. What other woman would I be talking about?”

“You never know these days, babe. Anyway, I’m calling about the guest list. One person in particular hasn’t responded at all.”

“Like who?”

“Like Shay. Shay Fleming.”

He pauses. “Oh, all right. Don’t worry about it.”

“I’m not worried. One less mouth to feed. But before I scratch her off the list, who is she?”

“Nobody.”

“Nobody somebody, or nobody
nobody?”

“I–um.”

“Scottie, I don’t like how you won’t just answer the question. Remember our talk a while ago?”

“How can I forget?”

“You must’ve forgotten because you’re choosing not to answer me. That’s not honest.”

“I feel if the person didn’t respond to the invite, then they must not care. If they not respectful enough to let us know they wanna come, then fuck ’em.”

“Oh, I get it. Must be one of your exes.”

He doesn’t say a word. And his silence says more than what his words would have revealed.

“No problem. ’Bye, Scottie.” I slam down the phone and instantly regret it. I wait a few seconds and redial his number. The call quickly goes to voice mail.

“Dammit. Now he’s pissed at me. This isn’t even right. I don’t believe him.”

“What’s wrong?”

I explain Scottie’s odd reaction when I mention Shay Fleming and how he refuses to tell me who she is.

“That’s easy. Google her and see if there’re any photos on MySpace or Facebook. We already know her home address and telephone number. One quick phone call should resolve this mystery.”

“But I don’t like acting insecure, calling up strange women. I’ve always wanted to pretend like I don’t care and like I trust him.”

“But you don’t.”

“It’s important for me to know the basics about what’s going on. The rest I can deal with later.”

“Well, you know me. I’m game. Hand me your house phone. I’ll call. Or log me on to your Internet, and I’ll let my fingers do the checking.”

“It’s not your job, Summer. If my man can’t tell me the truth, what am I doing with him? That’s why I don’t want to google anybody. I’m waiting for him to come to me. That’s the last little test he needs to pass.”

Later that evening, Scottie shows up at my place. I stand outside my front door with my arms folded.

“You gotta know and believe that you’re the woman I’m marrying. Shay Fleming is someone who I used to know a few years ago. I guess it was stupid to invite her. She was the one woman who was gifted at making me feel like an ass. And now that I’ve lucked out …”

“You want to show out? Show me off? Make her regret treating you bad?”

“But I don’t have to do that, do I?”

I insert my key in the front door to let him in. “All you have to do is be honest with me even if you think your feelings will harm mine. Thanks for telling me who she is. If you see her at the wedding, will you point her out to me?”

“That’s not happening. I decided to call and uninvite her. She cursed me out and hung up on me.”

“Good for you. I’m glad she’s not coming. Two cars just can’t drive in the same lane, I don’t care how ‘hot’ they are,” I tell him and silently thank God that Neil and I had enough sense not to go into that hotel room.

Saturday, February fourteenth
.
The wedding ceremony begins twenty minutes late. But when the doors of the tiny rented chapel squeak open, the sounds of sighs and complaining skid to a gentle stop as all the guests crane their necks.

Dani steps into the sanctuary wearing a white beaded floor-length dress with a strapless bodice embellished with rhinestone crystals. Her taffeta skirt is bunched in at her waist. The front of her hair is pushed back from her face; and the back of her hair is curled in long, flowing ringlets that bounce with every step. She slowly walks down the wide aisle clutching the arm of Albert Frazier, her thirty-five-year-old brother, who’s prepared to give her away.

All the ushers were warned, “If you see another woman walk through the front doors of the church wearing a wedding gown, first call security, then 911, just in case.”

Guests grin, point, whisper, and take photos with flashing digital cameras. Everyone is standing to watch the procession from both sections of the sanctuary.

Someone remarks, “She’s radiant.”

“That’s tanning spray,” snaps LaNecia, who’s waiting
unnoticed at the back of the church. She’s wearing a gray cotton cleaning uniform, and her face has been scrubbed of all makeup. Even her own cousins haven’t recognized her. LaNecia moves in closer so she can see.

“Isn’t that beautiful? Dani’s eyes are wet with tears.”

“That’s Visine. She’s trying to get the red out. Pothead.”

“She looks as beautiful as Princess Diana.”

“Princess Diana is dead. Dead ain’t beautiful.”

“Dani looks perfect.”

“A perfect man-snatcher. She knows Scottie is mine. He’ll always be mine.”

A woman standing in the row in front of LaNecia turns around so she can get a good look at the girl who’s making disparaging remarks, but within seconds LaNecia ducks from the aisle and heads out of the church, shaking with anger that the day that never should have happened is now a reality.

It’s Sunday afternoon and
the newlyweds are enjoying themselves at home in their living room.

“Yeah, that’s what I’m talking about.” Scottie groans in satisfaction, then props his feet on top of an oak coffee table. He’s admiring the revolving photos from his wedding that are now playing on the digital photo frame with an eight-inch LCD display. Although he and Dani got married only two weeks ago, the twinkle in his eyes has yet to dim. He’s holding a cold can of beer in one hand; his other hand rests against Dani’s hip while she’s snugly perched on his lap.

ABC TV just started airing a doubleheader: Detroit Pistons at Boston; later on they’ll broadcast the Lakers at Phoenix. In his mind, life can’t get any better.

“What are you talking about, Mister Meadows?” Dani asks.

“I’m talking about how sweet it is to live the good life. If all the haters could see me now …”

“Haters? Like who?”

“Like some of my boys who warned me, ‘Don’t do it, partner.’”

“They said that?” She scowls. “Thank God you don’t listen to them.”

“I mean, we’re tight and everything, but sometimes you gotta watch your buddies. They the main ones trying to break you up.”

“And the ones who are full of relationship advice, yet they don’t have anyone in their own life.”

Sunlight streaks through the living area’s bay window of their three-story town house. The lower level consists of a two-car garage and a laundry room complete with a full-size washer and dryer. The second level features a living room boasting nine-foot ceilings, a breakfast bar in the kitchen, a dining room, and a guest bedroom with full bath. The top level houses Scottie and Dani’s bedroom and master bathroom, plus a room down the hall for Brax.

“Well, they didn’t know what they were talking about, did they?” Scottie beams at his bride and wants to kiss her on the lips, but he thinks twice. He’s already kissed her a dozen times since they woke up this morning.

“Mommy, I gotta go wee-wee.” Brax runs up to his mother. He’s wearing a blue outfit with suspenders.

The doorbell rings.

“Hey, I’ll help my man get out of his clothes; why don’t you get the door?”

“Thanks, babe.”

Dani runs downstairs and opens the door without first checking through the peephole.

Neil stands in front of her, looking dazed. He’s dressed in a pair of Dockers shorts and a black T-shirt that emphasizes his muscles.

“Oh, you’re here already. Where’s Anya?”

“We drove in separate cars.”

“I see. Anything the matter?”

“Yeah, can you step outside for a second?” Dani raises an eyebrow but steps onto the tiny porch.

“Apparently, one of the folks at Solomon’s Temple saw me at the uh, the hotel,” he whispers.

“Oh, shit.”

“That’s what I said when she told me.”

“Did you deny it?”

“I tried to explain to her what happened, but she wasn’t hearing it.”

“When did this happen? Just now?”

“Yeah. The timing is bad since
you
just invited us to come over to your new place today. Scottie should’ve asked us.”

“Neil, no one’s thinking about that old stuff. I just thought it would be nice for all of us to watch the game, eat hot wings, drink beer. Fuck!”

“No, no fucking.”

“Shut up, Neil.”

Dani abruptly turns and runs upstairs to the second-floor living room. Scottie hasn’t returned from helping Brax use the bathroom. And the NBA analysts dominate the television screen with their predictions that Boston will put a hurting on the Pistons.

As Dani moves to stand in the center of the room, she feels Neil close behind her. He places his hand on her shoulder. She slowly turns around and looks up at him.

“Please,” is the only word he utters. He looks at the ceiling and takes in the decor and layout of the living area.

“So, this is where the newlyweds hang out….” he says, his voice drifting off.

“Um, make yourself at home. Scottie will be out in a sec. He’s with Brax.”

“Well, are you going to fix me something?”

“You can make your own plate.” She blushes.

“You mean to tell me after all we’ve been through I’m not good enough to be served?”

“I’ll serve you all right.” She pouts. “Um, more on that later.”

She proceeds to arrange a plate for Neil. “Which kind of wings did you want? We have Cajun, lemon pepper, suicide, barbecue….”

“You don’t remember my favorites?”

“Sure, I do. But …” She uses the tongs to pick out ten lemon pepper wings and carefully sets them on a plate.

“How are things going with you two? Is he treating you right? If he gets out of order, don’t hesitate to call.”

“You mean that? I–I can’t imagine that ever happening. So far, everything’s been … um, thanks for the offer.”

“How’re things going in …?”

Dani is silent.

“Is y’alls room right above us?”

“Not quite, but yeah, we sleep upstairs. All of us.”

“Is he better than …?”

“Neil, stop. I don’t feel comfy talking about that kind of thing here. I just don’t….”

“Hey, don’t mean to make you feel awkward. I can’t help but wondering, you know.”

“I know.”

“Hey, big brother, what you doing in here talking to my wife?”

“Daddyyyyyyy!”

Neil ignores Scottie, puts his food on the counter, then scoops Brax in his arms and swings him around, his little legs flailing in the air.

“Neil, you know I hate when you do that.”

“Do you let Scottie do it?”

Neil continues swinging Brax up and down in a circular motion; like he’s on a ride at an amusement park. Brax laughs and screams, “Weeeee, yeah.”

“Nothing wrong with doing this. Plus, he’s having fun. I haven’t seen my son in a few days. We gotta get to know each other again.”

“Don’t even try it. You act like I’ve been keeping him from you. You didn’t want to come over here to pick him up on Friday.”

“Y’all shouldn’t be arguing like this,” Scottie says. “Not in front of me. It makes a man wonder where another man’s wife is.”

“Oh, my wife is on the way.” Neil shrugs. “She had some things to do and decided to come on her own.”

“Is that what she told you?”

“Yes, Scottie, sweetie, now be nice and get your brother something cold to drink, okay? Thanks, honey.”

“When she talks to me like that”—Scottie grins looking at his brother—“she can get anything she wants out of me. Anything.”

Neil turns around and carries Brax under his arm. He plops on the recliner and whispers something in Brax’s ear. His little legs carry him to the kitchen, where he looks around, spots a plate of food, and picks it up.

“That’s my boy, bring that over here and you can have some of my lemon pepper.”