Choose Me (24 page)

“Yeah, you want a guarantee up front.”

“I don’t know if it’s so much a guarantee because I know there are no guarantees in life. The only guarantees are when you
trust in God.”

I had no answer to that.

“And I know that you don’t believe in God the same way I do. I don’t even know if you believe in salvation. Do you?”

“I used to think that it meant if you believe Jesus is the son of God, you were saved.”

“And now?”

I exhaled. “And now, I don’t think it’s that simple.”

“But that’s the beauty of it. It
is
that simple. John three, sixteen.”

She was quiet then and I didn’t know what to say, although I wasn’t ready to hang up. I sat up and again started thumbing
absentmindedly through the videos and DVDs, not really looking at the titles, waiting for her to continue talking or hang
up.

“How did you like Danté?” she asked.

“I liked them. I couldn’t follow the words much, but the beats were tight.”

“Did you decide on a movie?” she asked.

“Why? You want to come over and watch one?”
Why did I say that?
I thought, mentally kicking myself.

There was another long pause and then she said, “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“Relax. I’m babysitting my niece and nephew. They’re light sleepers.”

“What are their names?”

“Kia and Daelen. Kia’s four, going on five; Daelen’s three.”

“That’s nice of you.”

“What, babysitting?”

“Yeah, I don’t know too many men who do that.”

“My sister, Jade, just went through a rough divorce and every once in a while she needs a night out. She’s seeing this new
guy.”

“I wish I had had a brother like you,” she said. “When I first got divorced.”

“You have a sister. You guys seem close.”

“We are. But she was going through her own stuff back then. My boys really needed a father figure. I didn’t bring any of my
dates home because I didn’t want them to think that I was trying to replace their father. Until Victor.”

“Victor?”

“Victor was the man I was engaged to. About five years ago. We moved in together and … it didn’t work out.”

She didn’t go into detail so I didn’t press for any. I finally came across a movie I hadn’t seen in about a year. “Did you
see
The Matrix?
” I asked her.

“Yeah.”

“What’d you think of it?”

“Overall I liked it. I thought it was a sensationalized version of the Second Coming. But since Hollywood can’t deal with
God on a realistic level, it had to emphasize the violence and the action, and then throw in a romance.”

“See, I don’t agree. I thought it was more about society living in a one-dimensional world, how man has allowed himself to
be satisfied with conformity until Neo comes along.”

“Don’t you think Neo represented a kind of savior? And their use of biblical names: Zion, Nebuchadnezzar, Trinity. I mean,
the final fight scene between Neo and the agent in the end—that was symbolic of the ultimate battle between good and evil.
Armageddon.”

“That’s an interesting theory, but I think the writers would probably disagree with you.”

“Of course they would. They wouldn’t have been able to make all the money they did if they had concentrated on the spiritual
subtext.”

I put the movie into the VCR and pressed the rewind button. We both listened to the tape rewinding noisily, not saying anything.

“Sooo …? You coming over or what?” I knew she wouldn’t take me up on my offer, but part of me hoped she would surprise me.

She didn’t answer and I imagined her clasping her hands, debating.

And then I heard the slight interruption of her call-waiting signal. “Thank God for call-waiting,” I said in jest. “Or should
I say AT&T?”

WHEN MAYA INVITED
me to Adam’s house for a barbecue, initially I told her I didn’t want to go. Apparently, Luciano was throwing
the barbecue as a thank-you to Adam for giving him a place to stay when his wife kicked him out. He had finally moved into
his brother’s house, or so he said. More and more, I was beginning to dislike the idea of Maya having a life on the side with
Luciano like they were a couple, and especially when she included me. Then she said Luciano specifically wanted me to come,
that he wished we could get to know each other. I believed the get-together was merely an excuse for him to spend more time
with Maya, but I was looking forward to the chance to tell him what I thought of him, in person. If he wanted to get to know
me, he was going to find out why they really called me “Evileen.”

Adam’s loft was located in an old part of the city where my family had once lived years ago, before it became prime real estate.
His building, and the ones in the surrounding area, had once been factories that had employed the working class in the sixties
and seventies. As I knocked on the door, I could hear India.Arie’s album,
Acoustic Soul,
echoing from inside the loft. The door was opened by a miniature and feminine version of Adam, his sister, Jade. Her hair
was a lighter shade of brown, bordering on dirty blonde, and she looked more like she was in her early twenties than thirty.

“Are Kia and Daelen here?” I asked her.

She appeared taken aback that I knew her children’s names. After recovering from her initial surprise, she said their grandmother
had taken them to an arts and crafts show. She then introduced me to her date, Akil, whose name and face looked a little familiar.

“I know you, don’t I?” I asked him as we shook hands. Akil was not a common name.

“I don’t know. Do you work at U of C?”

“No, Chicago U.” Then I recalled from where I remembered him. “You go to TCCC?”

“Used to. I live on the North Side now, so I go to Evangel Church of Christ.”

“Okay. What a small world.”

We talked a little about Pastor Zeke and which members were still at TCCC, which ones had left. Jade watched our interaction
quietly, but not with jealousy, more like amicable curiosity. I remembered Adam saying she had just started seeing Akil, so
perhaps it was important to her that everyone liked him.

I held up the covered dish of rice and beans toward Jade. “I brought a dish.”

“Great. You can put it in the kitchen. Adam’s in there.”

Even though there was a smile on her face, I could see her scrutinizing me with her hazel eyes. I had tried not to get too
dressed up, picking an off-white sarong and peasant blouse, but under Jade’s questioning eyes, I wondered if I looked desperate
for her brother’s attention.

Adam’s place was a typical bachelor’s pad, a spacious loft with lots of glass, leather, and art deco furniture. I could see
almost every room from the door’s entrance, except for the bathroom and bedroom. The loft had pale oak hardwood floors throughout
and floor-to-ceiling windows where a faint outline of Chicago’s Gold Coast skyline could be seen in the distance. With the
exception of a few splashes of red in the throw pillows and scattered rugs, everything was black, white, and gray. There were
a few abstract paintings and African sculptures on the exposed brick walls and some framed photos on the coffee and end tables.

On the balcony, I saw Simone with Ian, the owner of the hair salon. She was sitting on his lap like he was Santa Claus. Ian
was fifteen years older than Simone and treated her like a daughter; in fact, he called her “Babygirl” and she called him
“Daddy.” Maya was leaning against Luciano, who was tending to the grill. He saluted me with the barbecue fork. I wasn’t ready
to interact with them just yet. I waved and continued toward the kitchen.

From the kitchen, Adam looked up slightly where he was bent over the sink, a smile slowly spreading across his face as I got
closer. The way he was looking at me, his head down, his liquid eyes peering from under his shaggy raised eyebrows, made me
feel suddenly flushed.

“Hey there. You didn’t have to bring anything,” he said, as he rinsed off two chickens in a bowl of water and vinegar.

“Hello,” I said holding out the dish. “It’s just rice and beans.”

His eyes lit up. “Red beans and rice?”

“We say ‘rice and beans.’ It’s a Puerto Rican staple.”

“It’s also a New Orleans Creole dish. My ma’s people are from there.”

“Well, these here beans are from a can, and the rice is from a box, courtesy of
Goya,
” I quipped.

“You mean they’re not homemade? Oh, you’re bogus.” He laughed.

“Hey, when you’re a single mom, you learn to cut corners. They taste homemade. At least that’s what the labels say.” I laughed
along with him.

I set the dish on the stove and leaned against the granite countertop.

“Cool hat,” he said, inspecting my straw Panama hat with an amused look. “Have a seat. There’re some drinks in the fridge.
Pop, iced tea. Sparkling white grape juice.” Seeing my curious look, he smiled and said, “Somebody introduced me to it.”

I noticed there was also beer in the fridge and wondered who was drinking, but I didn’t ask. “I really like your place,” I
said, pouring myself a tall glass of iced tea.

“Thanks.”

“I love this song,” I commented, nodding to India.Arie’s “Brown Skin.”

“It’s one of my favorites, too.”

I watched him as he skillfully cut the chickens into quarters, the sinewy muscles taut on his scarred arms. Forcing myself
to look away, I glanced around the kitchen: the spotless stainless-steel fridge and stove, white oak cabinets, and bare granite
countertops; nothing out of place.

“I haven’t bought her new CD yet but I heard it was fierce,” I commented.

“I have it. I can burn it for you if you want. Then we’ll be even.”

“Thanks.” When my eyes roamed back around to him, I caught him staring at me as he blindly and expertly excised the chicken’s
innards. I cleared my throat. “Do you like Tracy Chapman? That’s who India reminds me of.”

“Ah, the original neo-soul girl,” he said favorably. “I haven’t played her in a while. I got a few of her albums.”

“Did Maya tell you we used to live not far from here? Back in the seventies, our parents had an apartment near Chicago Avenue
and Noble.”

“The neighborhood was really different then.”

“Yeah, I can’t believe how it’s changed,” I said wistfully. “Pretty soon they’ll be knocking down the projects and the Y.”

We delved into a conversation about the pros and cons of gentrification—though we both agreed there were few pros—and the
long history of housing segregation in Chicago. After a while, Jade and Akil, followed by Simone and Ian, wandered into the
kitchen and joined the discussion.

It was apparent that Jade was very possessive of her older brother, affectionately punching his arm or hugging him as they
teased each other. She touched Adam more than she did her date. It was almost as if she wanted to prove to everyone that no
one was closer to him than she was.

Before long, Luciano and Maya came into the kitchen. They were holding hands and it irritated me, more so than watching them
kiss that first night.

“I thought the party was on the balcony,” Luciano said.

“We were just going out there,” Adam told him. “Eva brought some rice and beans.”

“Some
Cubano
beans?” he asked.

“No, Puerto Rican beans,” I said.

“Puerto Ricans don’t know beans about beans.”

“What makes you such an expert? You’re only half Latino,” I blurted out. The silence that followed was thick with discomfort.
Maya shot me a venomous look that could’ve burned a hole through me if she had had super powers. Luckily, India.Arie’s cut
“I See God in You” began to skip and everyone volunteered to fix it, leaving me and Adam to deal with the uneasiness that
still hung in the air. As he meticulously sprinkled seasoned salt and pepper over the chicken, he glanced periodically at
me from under his brows, waiting, I guess, for me to say something.

“I’m sorry about that,” I said, burying my face behind my glass of tea.

“You don’t have to apologize to me.”

“Yeah, I do. That was petty. Maybe I should go.”

“No, you shouldn’t. Luciano isn’t the sensitive type. He’ll get over it.”

“Look, I know he’s your boy and all. And I have nothing against him, I just don’t like him in my sister’s life. I don’t trust
any man who’s unfaithful to his wife.”

“I thought you said it was her life and all you could do was pray.”

I held his gaze for a few seconds. “You sure have a good memory.”

“Besides, your sister is cheating on her husband, isn’t she? Do you trust her to make her own decisions? Her own mistakes?”

“No. A woman is … A lot of women are different in situations like this. They’re vulnerable and fall harder than men. Most
of the time they’re doing it out of spite but they end up falling harder for the guy. Men can have flings and move on. It’s
harder for women to recover.”

“If Maya’s marriage is strong, if she really loves her husband, then she will overcome this. If it breaks up, then maybe it
was inevitable. Now, let’s go and enjoy ourselves.”

Adam grabbed the aluminum pan full of seasoned chicken as I followed him to the balcony, carrying my dish. “And play nice,”
he added.

“I’ll try.”

It was an Indian summer day, unseasonably hot for the middle of fall, the wind deceptively warm and breezy. Luciano avoided
all eye contact and conversation with me, which was just fine. I saw him devouring the rice and beans though, along with a
couple of beers. I tried to catch Maya’s reaction to his drinking, but she, too, was dodging my eyes. As much as I regretted
being nasty to him in public, I hoped he got the message that we were never going to be friends.

I felt slightly uncomfortable since it appeared everyone was supposed to be paired up and Adam and I were presumably a “couple,”
even though technically, we weren’t. We were the only ones not standing or sitting near each other, or touching. Adam was
busy tending the meat on the grill because, according to everyone, his barbecue was legendary, even though Luciano was supposedly
the host. There was plenty of conversation going around so that it was more of a fun group affair than an intimate event and
for that, I was grateful. Occasionally, our eyes locked and I was thankful for my hat and sunglasses so he couldn’t tell when
I was watching him. And I couldn’t help but watch him: the way his royal blue T-shirt hugged his upper arms; the way his faded
relaxed jeans fell loosely below his waist, snug at the hips; the way he attended to his guests, and joked around with his
sister, displaying his generosity and affection. And the way he put up with Luciano. Only a true friend would tolerate someone
so crass and immature.
God,
I thought,
why not him?