56
Max
“You did what?” Smitty stared at me as if I were insane. He tried turning the volume down to the song “Diamonds in that Pussy” using the remote. When it didn’t work, he popped the back off and rolled the batteries with his thumb, but still got nothing. Frustrated, he dropped the remote and ran over to the stereo, all the while cursing to himself, to do it the old fashioned way, by hand. He’d just listened to me baring my soul and had taken everything in stride until now. Even during my talk of Jay’s shooting, he’d stayed calm.
“So, it’s midnight and you’re in your drawers, bangin’ on Glover’s door ’n shit? Oh, that’s priceless!” he howled. “You know I could go on, right?”
“Stop playin’, man. Are you gonna help me find her?”
“Yeah.” He sighed. “I’m down. But what if ol’ girl already jumped that twenty-four karat broom?”
“She hasn’t. At least I don’t think so. It’s supposed to be this weekend, either today or tomorrow. I gotta find her, man.”
“Know where the wedding’s at?”
“No, but it’s out here. Somewhere.”
“Man, this ain’t no Louisiana. Thanks for narrowing the search.”
“Smit, I don’t have time for this. I tried my computer, but don’t know where to look.”
“Just fuckin’ with ya. Let me get some breakfast in me and I’ll help.”
I needed a plan for finding a wedding that may or may not have been taking place in southern California. While Smitty ate a bowl of microwave grits, I started going through the Yellow Pages. It was nearly impossible to reach anybody on the weekend, as most of the offices that did the scheduling were probably closed. I couldn’t let that stop me, though. I snagged a notepad with the West-tel logo on it and began scribbling.
I split up places to check out: churches, chapels, halls, hotels, and ballrooms. Smitty finished his grits and sat down across the unsteady glass table from me. Being as he was more familiar with the area, he would be able to eliminate a lot of these places at a glance. A woman would have been a bigger help, but I wasn’t about to bother Aunt Lucy with this. I didn’t know Lionel’s last name, and if the wedding was at somebody’s house, I was fucked. I slid my list over to Smitty.
“Uh-uh. Too small.”
“No way. Wrong part of town for them.”
“Too white.”
“Too brown.”
“Too broke.”
“I dunno.”
“I dunno.”
“Is there something you do know?” I asked, tired and frustrated.
“I know she had to tell you something about the wedding while you were tappin’ that ass. Why don’t you think instead of gettin’ all on my case?”
“Sorry. Honestly, I didn’t want to hear anything about the wedding, so we never brought it up much. Wait. It’s outdoors. I remember her mentioning the weather.”
“Outdoors? You’re fucked then. It might be along the coast or something, but I’m lost on that kind of stuff. You really need a woman, or someone with connections. Or both.”
“I wish I knew someone. The only people who fit that description wouldn’t help me do this. Fuck!” I got up from the table and paced.
“Max, his people got money, right? Maybe there’s something about it on TV.”
“It’s worth a shot.” I turned on Smitty’s TV and put it on one of the local channels. The news wasn’t on; only a commercial for an attorney, promising money for injuries. I watched as he bragged about their computerized databases and legal library that guaranteed top dollar for their clients. Wait. I knew about this guy. I froze in mid-thought and ran to the phone.
I broke every speed limit posted as we sped to Samir’s house. On the way there, I’d called Samir, and he told his wife. Yvette wasn’t going to be happy. He was right about that, but she did agree to help me. Samir stayed home with the kids while Yvette left with us. I had a sinking feeling as I looked at my watch. Half the day was gone.
“You know I could lose my job for this,” Yvette told me as she unlocked the door to her office, that of the attorney I’d just seen on TV. I couldn’t say anything, so I just nodded.
Yvette turned off the security alarm and turned on the lights. She logged on to her terminal and then began her search. Smitty pulled up a chair, but I couldn’t sit. I told her about the wedding being outdoors, and she began her search in the Malibu area, using all their resources; but she found nothing. Private weddings could be off the radar when people wanted them to be just that, private.
“Do you know the groom’s last name?” Yvette asked.
Groom.
The word made me wince. Brought me back to my bizarre dream.
“No. His first name’s Lionel.”
“That won’t help. How about where he works, what he does?”
“He works for Barnes and Greenwood.”
“
Oh
? Good company,” Yvette remarked. “I know they must have a website.”
Within mere seconds, Yvette brought up the B&G Web site on the monitor. In eloquent style, their top performers were displayed along with their names. Lionel’s face jumped right out at me. Smitty noticed it too.
“That’s him. That’s the fool,” Smitty snarled as he pointed. I think he wanted to fight again.
“Lionel
Dunning
,” Yvette read aloud, emphasizing his last name. “I’ll bet his dad is Goodwin Dunning, the retired lawyer.”
Two spaces below Lionel’s photo was another vaguely familiar face—a pretty young thing with a smile to match and a nice tan. Yvette was saying something, but I tuned it out as I stared intently at the girl’s photo. How did I know her?
Combing my memory, I went back to my dream, where I couldn’t walk. It was her. She was the woman kissing Lionel in the dream when the phone woke me up.
But why her?
I was missing something and it unsettled me.
“Yvette, what floor is B and G on?”
“Let’s see. The—”
“Fortieth floor,” I said, completing Yvette’s answer for her. “I’ll be damned.”
In my old psych classes, I learned that the subconscious was a mother, full of all kinds of things if one dug hard enough. I always thought Lionel looked familiar. Now the light bulb had finally come on.
“What?” Smitty asked.
“Yvette, you said his dad’s a lawyer?”
“I said I think so. His dad could be a different Dunning.”
“You’ve done such a big favor for me already, but I need one more. Would it be out of the ordinary for a law firm to consult with a retired attorney, or to try to reach him for an emergency?”
“You mean try to track him down? Find out where he’s at? Specifically, where the wedding is that he’s at? You’ve got some balls, Max.”
“That’s why I’m in this situation now. I just found my balls. Yvette, please.”
“You must really want to get me fired. You know how odd it would be to call a retired attorney on a weekend? Especially when he’s at a wedding?” she replied with a scowl. Then her features softened. “I’ll see what I can do.”
57
Glover
“You are so beautiful, girl. I’m about to cry,” Charmaine said as she fiddled with my train. She’d done more than enough crying for everyone. As she worked with my dress, Mona worked on my nails, finishing them right on time. I wasn’t one to be pampered, poked, and prodded, but this was the biggest day of my life.
That said, I was only feeling it eighty-five percent.
Charmaine, Mona, and I stayed up most of the night, holed up in my suite, drinking and reminiscing over old times. Someone would say something, and the next thing you know, we were all crying. Tasha popped in to join us after the kids and Uncle Rob went to sleep. Even Sarabeth and Jazelle were civil and passed by to enjoy a drink or two. Maybe it was a drink or three, but I was sloppy drunk and in no shape to count. It took a lot of willpower to watch my mouth and keep Charmaine and Tasha quiet in Sarabeth’s presence. It also took a lot of willpower not to think about Max, but the festivities were a good distraction.
When Charmaine was done, she turned me toward the mirror. My eyes watered as I thought of my mom looking down on me. She should have had a wedding like this, to someone worthy of her. I was draped in a satiny-white silk wedding gown with spaghetti straps. The gown was drop-waisted, with embroidered pearls in the bodice. My train, which Charmaine was still handling, was cathedral style. Charmaine was already dressed, but Mona was waiting to finish with my hair and makeup. Ms. Stevens wanted everything in place on her when she stepped out of the suite.
There was a quick, light tap on the door. Someone used to having doors opened for them. Should have known it was my soon-to-be mother-in-law.
“I just wanted to check on the bride,” Adele gushed as Mona let her in. Darting in my direction, she tossed quick smiles to my friends. “Oh, you are a living doll!”
“Thanks, Mom,” I offered, straining to jump past that eighty-five percent. Might as well get used to it.
“Lionel is a nervous wreck, my dear. I just left his suite and told him I would check on you.”
“I’m here,” I said with a weak giggle. “It looks like everything’s on schedule.”
“I suppose so. The guests are arriving like clockwork. I’m glad I reserved some of the regular boat runs exclusively for our use. If somebody is planning on taking a trip over here from the mainland, they’re going to have a bit of a wait on their hands.
“Hmm, did you know that your makeup is uneven, dear?”
“That’s because it’s not finished. Mona was working on it when you came in.” Adele wanted her own people to do my makeup, but I pulled the plug on that. I needed someone I trusted by my side the entire time. Besides, I’d conceded too much to her already.
“I should have known. Glover, I know we rub one another wrong sometimes, but I’m wondering if we can put that all behind us from today on and start anew.”
Adele didn’t wait for an answer, simply excusing herself to attend to other matters.
“Well, that was noble of her,” Charmaine cracked.
With Adele out of the way, Mona and Charmaine completed their assignments flawlessly. All that was left was my veil. Charmaine went looking for a pin, while Mona excused herself to get dressed. I heard the orchestra warming up outside.
Soon.
I was to be escorted up to the cliff at the appropriate time, which was quickly approaching. Alone for once, I had time to reflect on everything in its entirety. I took a seat and took a deep breath.
The door to the suite opened again. This time it was Tasha, wearing a navy blue dress with a matching hat. So much for time to myself.
“Girl, it is sooo nice out there! I saw them bringing the doves out in their cages, but I’m already out of space on my camera. Robert said to tell you he loves you and to break a leg. And look atcha. Ain’t you lookin’ too good.”
“Thanks, Tasha. You are a trip, girlfriend. I’m glad we met. Uncle Rob is blessed to have you.”
“Thanks, niece. Um, Glover?”
“Huh?”
“I have to tell you something. Robert told me not to, but I can’t let it go. I get these feelings from time to time. My momma used to call it the gift. Robert told me to leave that foolishness alone because he didn’t want anything ruining your happiness; but you ain’t all that happy, are you?”
“What makes you think that?” I asked, trying to conceal how emotional she’d just made me. I don’t know if I believed her about her gift, but maybe my body language had betrayed me.
“I dunno. Just the feeling I get. I got a bad feeling about this wedding. I mean, it could be nothin’, but I could not let it go unsaid.”
“I’m going to be okay, Tasha, but thanks.”
She paused, eyeing me with more than idle curiosity. I gave her a long hug then let her rejoin the other guests. Charmaine and Mona returned shortly afterward.
After pinning my veil in place, we were ready to roll after a last minute check. I may have played it off to Tasha, but she was right. I kept myself immersed in the wedding so much that I managed to keep my heart at bay. Now everything was coming to a head. I’d only wanted something out of life that was real for me, and it was crystal clear that this wedding wasn’t it. I loved Max, and suddenly didn’t think I could go through with this.
With each step closer to that door, my convictions burned brighter. I cleared my throat to finally speak up for myself, to stop being afraid, when there was another knock at the door.
We all thought it was the coordinator telling us it was time to begin. No one came in. Mona sighed then went to get the door. It was a delivery boy from town with a package for me. I guessed someone couldn’t wait until the reception. I signed for it and began to open the box.
“Want me to take it?” Mona asked. “We can open it later.”
“No, I got time,” I replied, grateful for the delay. Maybe whoever sent it could get their money back.
It was a black rose with a note, a bad joke that was probably from one of our co-workers. I showed the rose to Charmaine and Mona then read the card aloud: “Dear Glover, on this most special of days, hope you enjoy my gift, you bitch. You don’t deserve him. He’s mine and always will be. Misha.”
Misha.
Misha?
Lionel’s perky little co-worker?
“Oh shit,” Charmaine whispered, finally breaking the silence.
I’ll be damned. I was stressing over this whole sordid triangle when it seemed like Lionel had his own going on.
A geometry of lies amongst us all.
Almost on cue, Lionel burst into the suite. While his English-style tux looked good, the man wearing it looked very ill. Misha had probably sent him a little gift too. His mouth dropped as soon as his eyes fixed on the note I held.
I let the card drop onto the floor.
“Could you ladies leave us alone for a minute?” Lionel asked, motioning Charmaine and Mona with his hand. They looked to me first.
“No, they can stay, Lionel. We might as well get it all out.”
“Is that from Misha?” he asked, pointing at the tiny card.
“I think you know already.”
“Baby, she sent me a crazy note too. I just got it. I ... I think she’s infatuated with me.” Always Mr. Smooth, he was. Even now.
“Go on.” I took off my veil and folded my arms.
There was a commotion in the hall. Someone knocked on the door.
“Wait!” Lionel shouted. The knocking ceased. He renewed his focus on me. “Misha’s been acting strange lately. I think she mistook my friendship for something else.”
“Friendship?”
“Yes. That’s all that it was,” he swore. Charmaine smacked her lips, to which Lionel glared at her.
“You don’t need to be here,” he said to my friend as if threatening her. Charmaine, not appreciating his posture, looked ready to throw down.
“Lionel, don’t bullshit me,” I said, getting back to the matter at hand. “I should have seen the signs. The way she ran out of your office the day I was there. The way she—”
“Stop. I don’t want to hear any more of this wild speculation. This is my wedding day! And this is not the place to speak about Misha and her delusions or ... or these lies.”
“Delusions and lies. C’mon, you can do better than that,” I taunted. “I guess I was too busy with my own issues to notice what should’ve been so obvious. It should make me feel better about what I did, but it doesn’t. Well, you’re free to enjoy your little protégé because I’m out.”
“No! No!” he yelled. “Baby, it was never like that. You have to believe me. Look, the wedding’s ready to start. Everyone’s waiting on us. If you just let us talk this over and get these two out of here ...”
“These two? My girls? That’s what they are now that they’re inconvenient to the game you’re trying to run?”
“Trying to run game? What are you talking about, Glover?”
“Real talk. There will be no wedding, Lionel. Do you understand? I had reached that decision even before this shit arrived,” I said, flipping over the box that contained Misha’s gift. Mona’s and Charmaine’s mouths dropped open in unison.
Lionel chuckled. “Run game. Now,
real talk
? What’s gotten into you with all this hood slang, Glover? That little boy you were playing around with, huh? I forgave you for that lapse, so there will be a wedding. And you know why? Because I love you, and that bitch Misha is a liar!”
“No, she’s not.”
“What?”
Mona stepped forward and repeated herself. “Misha’s not a liar.”
Things took a strange turn. Charmaine began rubbing her head, and Lionel flew around in a rage. A deathly silent pause filled the room as everyone digested what Mona had so crisply stated. What did she know about this? And why hadn’t she shared it with me?
Lionel, ever the sharp one, regained his bearings and resumed damage control. “Glover, don’t listen to her, baby. Let’s discuss this alone.”
“Shut up, Lionel,” I said, grasping a table lamp near me. My fiancé froze. I turned back toward Mona.
“And how do you know this?” I asked of my friend. Instead of the sadness I’d felt in my heart, enough rage and pain for two was welling up to quickly replace it. But to whom should I direct it? Lionel tried to interrupt again, but the whispered reply that escaped Mona’s lips was loud enough to answer my questions.
“Because I’ve been sleeping with him too.” Tears trickled down her face. Amazingly, they didn’t freeze. The icy façade was melting. “I–I’m sorry, Glover. It wasn’t supposed to happen. You’re like a sister to me. I never wanted to hurt you. Never. You have to believe me.”
A double betrayal. Lionel seemed helpless as he turned toward Mona and then back to me. He repeated the same fruitless motion several times, finally at a loss for words.
“I ended it when I realized you two were serious about getting married. Lionel will tell you,” Mona offered weakly as her closing argument. I wouldn’t have surprised me if she’d been the one who told Lionel about Max in the first place.
Damn. I’d been so fucking clueless.
I ran across the room and grabbed Mona by her hair. Nobody was quick enough to stop me. My fist rained down on her face until one eye was swollen shut. She tried to resist, but it was futile. I was about to kick her a few times when I awakened from my momentary revenge fantasy.
“G-love? Are you okay?” Charmaine asked, bringing me back to reality.
“Yeah, Charmaine. Never better,” I replied.
“You mean you’re okay with all this ... this shit?
With what Mona did, too?
”
Mona’s hands were on her hips, her head hanging low in shame. Lionel was beside himself.
“Fuck it. Fuck them all,” I answered Charmaine.
“Nah! Nah! That ain’t right!” Charmaine belted out. She took off her pump and swung it at Mona, whacking her in the head with the heel.
Thwack!
Mona shrieked and fell to the floor, holding her forehead. “Now it’s right,” Charmaine added. She and I stepped over Mona, leaving only Lionel barring our exit.
“Thanks for the memories, Mr. Dunning,” I offered. He said nothing. “Are you going to move? Mona there probably needs some TLC or something. Besides, she’s probably more to your family’s liking anyway.”
I watched his brow furrow and face contort as those familiar gears turned. He looked like he wanted to conduct a business transaction of some sort—maybe concoct some story to save face or try to talk me out of this still. But this was irreparable; and in the end, he gave up, quietly stepping aside. I didn’t know what Lionel would tell his mother, but I was sure it would be creative, for Mr. Dunning was certainly a creative person.
With Charmaine’s help, I pushed my way through the chattering and confused crowd of wedding guests and out the inn. I would explain everything to Uncle Rob and make it up to my other guests later. What I really needed right now was space. I gave my uncomfortable pumps to one of the inn staff who looked to be about my size, and left barefooted. Charmaine stayed behind to keep people from following me. I just needed to be free to breathe for the first time in a long time.