Chapter 31
D
ONETTA
D
onetta was a light sleeper, so when she heard the knock on her bedroom door she rubbed her eyes and blinked. The room was completely dark, save for the moonlight peeping in through the blinds she'd left open at her window. She was lying in her bed, curled into a tight ball under four bedsheets, two robes, thick socks, a pair of gloves, and a fur-lined toboggan atop her head. And even though she was cocooned under several layers of coverings and clothing, she was still cold. She'd left the warmth of the cozy fire in the living room and had gone to her bedroom so Phillip could freely talk to his mother.
There was another hard set of knocks, followed by the strained sound of Phillip's voice. “Donetta, are you awake?”
“Yes,” she answered.
Phillip slowly walked into the room holding a candle to light his way. He was still dressed in the navy lounge pants and long-sleeved gray T-shirt he'd been wearing since last night. He stood at the edge of her bed and stared at her.
“What do you want?” she asked.
“You've been back here a long time so I came to check on you.”
“What time is it?”
“Seven o'clock.”
“What?” She sat up and squinted. Donetta hadn't slept a wink last night because she'd been worried about Phillip's health and heartbroken over the way things had turned out between them. When she'd finally lain down earlier today, sleep had welcomed her. But now it was nighttime again, it was freezing, and her stomach had just begun to growl. Even though she was cold and hungry, she wanted to know how Phillip was feeling. He still sounded congested, but he looked as if he was beginning to rebound. “How are you feeling?” she asked.
“I'm better, but I'm afraid you're going to get sick like I did if you stay back here.”
She'd been expecting Phillip to answer her in the same angry, uncaring tone he'd been using since last night. But to her surprise his response was actually polite and thoughtful, and it surprised her to the point that she didn't know what to say.
“Let's go back to the living room where it's warm,” he said in a gentle tone. He extended his arm for her to walk in front of him as he escorted her out of the room.
Donetta wondered if his fever had risen so high that he was having some kind of brain malfunction. “Are you sure you're all right?” she asked as they walked out to the living room.
“Yes, like I said, I'm much better . . . thanks to you.”
Now Donetta knew there was definitely something wrong with Phillip. Although it was apparent that he was physically better, as was evidenced by the strength of his movements and the healthy hue that had returned to his caramel-colored skin, his mental health was now in question. He'd changed from salt to sugar in the course of an afternoon. Donetta remembered her grandmother used to say that if a man had an abrupt change in attitude, it was because he had something up his sleeve. “Do you still have a fever?” she asked.
“Yeah, it's still one hundred, but that's no biggie. I took more medicine a few hours ago, and that's helped a lot.”
When they reached the living room Phillip led Donetta over to the fireplace. He picked up the heavy blanket he'd been lying under and draped it around Donetta's shoulders. He looked at her and smiled. “I'll be back in a second.”
Donetta stood still, frozen with panic.
Oh Lord, he's gonna try to kill me!
she thought. She'd heard about situations like this, where a spouse or disgruntled lover played nice, all the while plotting to kill their mate. Before she'd gone to sleep, Phillip's attitude had been as tart as vinegar, and now he was cotton-candy sweet, all in the matter of one afternoon. She didn't trust his sudden kindness, and she knew she needed to protect herself. She walked over to the couch and sat on the cushion underneath which she kept her pistol hidden. Just then, Phillip came back into the room carrying two plates.
“Why're you sitting over there?” he asked.
She cleared her throat. “The couch is more comfortable than the floor.”
“But it's warmer by the fire.”
“I'll take my chances,” she said with a definite edge in her voice.
He looked as if he wanted to say something, but instead he remained silent. He took a seat next to her and held the two plates in his lap. “I made us sandwiches,” he said with a smile. “And this is actually what my mom and sister had for lunch and dinner tonight.”
“You talked to your mother again?” she asked.
“Yes, I did.”
Now Donetta was really worried, and she was sure that whatever he and his mother had talked about had everything to do with his sudden change of heart. Charlene Harris was a lawyer by vocation and a politician by way of natural charisma. She was a woman who knew the ins and outs of the law, and she sat on powerful boards and committees that made the city run. Donetta's mind raced as she thought about what Phillip and his mother could be up to, and then it came to her. They could be setting up a murder scene to make it look as though Phillip was defending himself against a trans woman who tried to attack him after being rejected. Donetta remembered how the calm, kindhearted councilwoman had beaten her ex-husband with a baseball bat a couple of years ago, giving him injuries so serious he'd had to go to the hospital.
Lord, please help me,
Donetta prayed silently. She nearly jumped when she heard Phillip's voice, breaking her thoughts.
“I know you said you don't like mayo, so I only put mustard on yours.”
Donetta looked at the sandwich as if he'd just served her poison between two slices of bread. “I'm not hungry.”
“I heard your stomach growl when we were in your bedroom.”
She rolled her eyes and then glared at him. “I'm not eating that sandwich.”
“Donetta, are you all right?”
“Are you?”
She saw a look on Phillip's face that resembled hurt, but she knew it had to be part of his act. She'd fought men who were more streetwise and definitely meaner than Phillip in her day, so she wasn't about to let his gentle mood and fake charm fool her. She was at a physical disadvantage against his size and strength, but she hadn't met a man alive who could outfight a bullet. She hated that it had come to this, but she scooted to the edge of the couch so she could easily retrieve the gun if she had to.
Phillip placed the two plates on the coffee table and cleared his throat. “I don't blame you for being angry, because I was angry, too.”
“I'm not angry, I'm cautious.”
He stared into her eyes, and she could see that he knew exactly what she meant. The hurt look that had come across his face a few minutes ago returned, and from where she sat it appeared genuine. Donetta was emotional, nervous, and confused about what was happening. At this point all she could do was trust that God would see her through whatever was about to happen next.
“Donetta, I hope you don't think I would try to hurt you,” Phillip said.
“Right now I don't know what to think. Before I went to sleep you were avoiding all eye contact with me, as if you were going to turn into stone if you looked my way. You barely said a word when I talked to you, and when you did decide to speak, you were short and harsh. But now you're staring into my eyes, making nice, and fixing me food that God only knows what you put in it. So, hell yeah, I'm afraid that you might hurt me . . . you wouldn't be the first.”
“I would never lay a hand on you.”
“And you want me to just take your word for it?”
He let out a deep sigh. “Yes, because right now that's all I have.”
He sounded sincere, with his gentle tone and kind eyes, but Donetta still wasn't fully convinced. The mental stress of trying to figure out Phillip's angle was beginning to wear on her, and the fact that she hadn't eaten since last night had begun to make her feel light-headed. She was tired and she didn't want to be held hostage by her fears. She knew she needed to get everything out in the open and play her hand as it was dealt. She faced him and stared into his eyes.
“What did you and your mother talk about?” she asked. “You called her a second time, and now your entire attitude has changed. So what's up?”
Phillip chuckled and shook his head. “That's one of the things I like about you, Donetta. You're smart and you get right to the point.”
“Thank you, but that still doesn't answer my question.”
“I told her about you.”
“About me, as in what kind of person I am? Or about me, as in, her name is Donetta Pierce?”
Phillip stared back at her with an intensity that matched hers. “After you went to your bedroom, I thought you were going to come back out here after my phone call with my mom ended, but you didn't. While you were gone, it gave me a lot of time to think about all the feelings and emotions going on inside of me. I couldn't make sense of some of the thoughts running through my mind, so I called my mother because she's literally the smartest and most compassionate person I know.
“I told her everything, which was a first for me. I've always kept my relationships to myself, and it's the only part of my life that my mom and I don't discuss in detail. Like I told you, I've been with a lot of women, and even though I've always been honest and up front in my relationships, my lifestyle has bothered my mother. She's a woman who was cheated on throughout her marriage, and I guess she's afraid that one day I might hurt someone like she was hurt, or that someone might get mad and hurt me . . . like she did my dad, which I'm sure you probably heard about.”
Donetta nodded. “News travels fast.”
“Especially bad news. Anyway, my mom allowed me to vent without interruption, which is a skill we lawyers have to master. After I cussed and fussed, she asked me a lot of questions, mainly about how I felt about you before you told me that you're trans. She helped me work through some things, not everything, but what we talked about was significant.” He paused and smiled. “She has a lot of respect for you, Donetta. She likes youâa lot.”
“She does?” Donetta was in shock about nearly everything Phillip had said, and especially about his mother having respect for her and liking her. Donetta knew that Charlene was one of Geneva's most loyal clients and that the two had become close ever since Charlene had generously offered to help Geneva with legal advice and emotional support after Johnny had been murdered. Donetta knew that Charlene had always been courteous to her, as she was with most everyone, but she didn't know that the councilwoman respected and liked her.
“Yes, she does,” Phillip continued. “My mother's a very open-minded person, and she doesn't judge. But when it comes to her children she's very partial, so she naturally had some concerns, which she'd have about anyone I started dating. But she knows you.”
“Even though she comes into the salon every week, I've never had a one-on-one conversation with her.”
“Maybe not, but she saidânot to my surpriseâthat you're quite the conversationalist and you have strong-willed opinions about everything.”
Donetta began to relax and actually smiled. “Yeah, that's me.”
“She thinks you're smart, beautiful, funny, and a stylish dresser.”
“Coming from your mother, that's a great compliment, and I can say the same thing about her. As a matter of fact, I'd love to raid her closet,” Donetta teased.
“It's amazing to me how women always size each other up when it comes to looks and clothes.”
Donetta noticed that Phillip was talking to her as if he fully accepted her for who she was. And even though she'd prayed he would, she knew there was no way his emotions could ping-pong back and forth so quickly without there being underlying fears, anger, and emotions that still needed to be addressed. She always believed in attacking situations head-on, but this was one time when she decided it was best to take things slow.
“I know this has been hard for you,” Donetta said, “and I'm truly, truly sorry that I told you the way I did . . . when I did. But, Phillip, I wasn't trying to deceive you, and I hope you believe me when I say that.”
“I do. And you're right, it's been hard on me, but I now understand that it's been hard on you, too. After I talked with my mom, I used your phone to find out more about trans people because it's a world I know absolutely nothing about. After surfing the net and reading blogs and listening to women tell their stories in YouTube videos, I was able to get a glimpse into what you've had to live your entire life. Not once have I ever questioned my manhood, so again, it's foreign to me, but I want to understand, and if we're going to do this, I need to.”
Donetta looked at Phillip and smiled. When they'd first started their conversation she'd thought he was trying to kill her, and now he was saying he actually wanted to be with her. She knew she should feel surprised and shocked, but she didn't because if there was one lesson she'd learned over the last two days it was that absolutely anything was possible. “I have so much to share with you,” she said, “and I'm sure you have a lot to share with me, too.”
“We'll learn together.”
The next two hours flew by like two minutes as Donetta and Phillip talked, and began a journey to a place neither of them had ever been before. They confided, confessed, and consoled. At some points she cried, and at all times he listened. They agreed that a long distance relationship would be tough, and that they would take turns traveling to see each other, every other week. Phillip told her that he would attend her support group meetings when he was in town. And even though he'd said it didn't bother him, she'd told him that she would continue to work on toning down her cursing, which she'd already curtailed over the last two days.