Coming Home Page 8

  “I’m not trying to disregard how either of you feel,” Brent said. “I’ve put both of you through a lot that you don’t deserve. I’m just at a place where I’m trying to look at the greater good, and I wish you two would go there with me.”

  The greater good? For whom?

  If Dayna uttered that question aloud her tone would be bitter. Brent seemed to be cloaking his selfish desires in a pious package. The urge that filled her spirit was to speak the truth in love.

  “Brent, you’re asking more than a lot. The three of us have a history that isn’t so pleasant. I met with you the other night to give you a chance to have your say; now you’re trying to guilt me into helping you. So what if it’s for a good cause? If it doesn’t feel right, it just doesn’t, and you have no right to force me or your wife into working together to fulfill your dream. I’m sorry you’re dying; I can’t tell you how sad that makes me. But it doesn’t mean that you have the right to bully the rest of us into doing what you want, just because you want it.

  “I will email you the information I spent most of the afternoon researching, and I’ll include the phone number and email address of Carmen Vargas, Chesdin Medical Center’s foundation director. She’s willing to meet with you and help however she can, okay? Beyond that, I wish you the best.”

  Dayna hung up before Brent could respond.

  She raised her head and nearly jumped out of her skin. Audrey stood in the doorway to the office, her arms crossed. She looked like a curvier, taller version of the young Diana Ross, with the full curly hair and star-wattage smile.

  “I guess you told him!” She sauntered in and perched on the seat across from Dayna’s desk.

  “How long were you standing there?” Dayna asked.

  “Long enough to know that you did the right thing. All you can do is help; you can’t get sucked into a triangle with Brent and his wife. I don’t know what he’s going through with this death thing, but you can’t get caught up in it. He had his chance with you and threw it away.”

  Dayna smiled at her friend.

  “You have been giving a lot of advice lately,” Dayna said. “I’m usually the one keeping you in line. Now that I think about it, though, it’s been a minute since I’ve had to help you prepare for a date or recover when Mr. Right turned out to be Mr. ‘Run and Hide.’ What gives? You on a dating fast?”

  Audrey shifted her eyes and turned away from Dayna to peer out of the office window. “Whatever you want to call it. I just don’t have time for blind dates and Mr. Fakes right now,” she said, and laughed nervously. “I read that Steve Harvey book and he was right; I have to act like the diva I was born to be, but think strategically like the kind of man I want and need. So yeah, I’m taking it easy for a while. But back to you: you’re sending Brent the foundation information, putting him in touch with Carmen, and backing off, right?”

  Dayna grinned. “You are such an eavesdropper. Don’t you have work to do?”

  Audrey shrugged. “It’s after five; my workday is over. I came to see if you wanted to go to dinner.”

  “We haven’t gone out together in a while, have we?” Dayna said, shaking her head. “Sorry, can’t do it. I gotta catch up on the work I set aside to do the research for Brent. Plus, I’ve promised Warren a barbecue dinner tonight instead of our regular salsa date.”

  “You taking him by Bennie’s?”

  “Yep.”

  “Enjoy, girl. Guess I’ll head home, then.”

  Dayna recognized the wistfulness in her friend’s voice. She hadn’t been dating Warren long enough to forget the reality of loneliness. It made you feel like the only single person in the universe.

  After grieving the loss of her marriage and actively seeking ways to love on herself, Dayna had learned to enjoy life on her own terms. She realized that being alone didn’t have to equal being lonely. She was certain that’s why she had been ready when Warren had shown up. Both of them considered it fate that they’d enrolled in salsa lessons on the same night, at the same location, without knowing they were also colleagues. Warren had been new to town, enjoying a vacation before starting his job at Chesdin Medical. When he became her partner by default in salsa class that evening, she hadn’t been looking for a mate. As their friendship blossomed into more, she had chosen to have one.

  “Audrey?”

  Her friend paused in the doorway.

  “Want to join us at Bennie’s? We can make it a threesome,” Dayna said.

  Audrey shook her head. “See you tomorrow, friend. Tell Warren I said hi.”

  “I will, and let’s have lunch tomorrow.”

  Audrey gave her a thumbs-up and was out of sight in seconds.

  Dayna was emailing Brent and Tamara when her boss poked his head into the office.

  “Good night, Dayna,” Spencer said. “Don’t stay here all evening. Work will be here tomorrow.”

  She paused mid-keyboard stroke and smiled. “I won’t be too long. Thanks.”

  With the email on its way, she dove into the to-do list she’d jotted on a notepad this morning and tackled two major tasks.

  Warren startled her with a light tap on her door just after seven.

  “Is it time already?”

  “Is your work that much fun?” He massaged her neck as she closed her document and began shutting down her computer.

  “How is it that this hospital doesn’t have a policy against coworkers fraternizing?” she teased.

  Warren laughed.

  “Are you planning to institute one? If so, let’s decide over dinner tonight which one of us will resign.”

  She giggled and turned to face him.

  He peered at the door to make sure no one was coming before he leaned down to kiss her lightly on the lips. They smiled at each other like a pair of high school sweethearts.

  “That policy would be a bad idea,” she said. “I’d hate for you to have to work somewhere else.”

  eighteen

  The man sitting across from her, feeding his face a rack of ribs, looked like Warren and talked like Warren, but the Warren she knew didn’t eat hot sauce or greens. This man had a plate of both, because they were Bennie’s special of the day, and their waitress had convinced him he’d be missing a treat if he didn’t give them a try.

  “I’ve been urging you to eat greens for nearly two years and you always politely decline. Our waitress runs down the special of the day once and urges you to ‘live a little,’ and you give in?”

  Warren tugged Dayna’s hand away from her hip and kissed her knuckles.

  “Ugh!” she said and yanked it back. “Now I have greens juice and hot sauce on my hands!”

  “Good — I can take some of it home with me,” Warren said.

  They fell into a fit of laughter, and Dayna was certain no one else would have understood what was so funny. She loved that she could be serious with this man one minute and cracking corny jokes the next, and all the while, he had her back.

  “Are you real, or did I dream you up?”

  “Which version will you marry?” Warren asked.

  She frowned. “Please don’t tell me you’re proposing to me in a rib joint with your hot-sauce breath.”

  Warren threw back his head and laughed. “Don’t worry, that was just a test run. When the time comes, I plan to be a little more romantic than this.”

  Dayna giggled. “I was about to say, how could I tell this story to our children and grandchildren: ‘We were sitting there gazing at each other over sweet and tangy barbecue ribs, potato salad, and mustard greens. He took one last bite of rib and told me he wanted to join my marrow with his.’”

  Warren doubled over, and in spite of herself, Dayna succumbed to more laughter. Her joke hadn’t been that funny, but if Warren wanted to enjoy it, so would she.

  The more the other diners gave them curious glances, the harder they giggled.

  “If nothing else, Bennie’s will have the honor of catering the rehearsal dinner,” Warren said when he could talk again.
Dayna fell into another fit of giggles.

  Their waitress, an older black lady with a silver-gray bun at the nape of her neck, approached with glasses of water for each of them. She set the beverages on the table without uttering a word, but the frown filling her wrinkled forehead spoke volumes.

  When she was out of sight, they tried to calm down. Dayna relaxed in the wooden chair and took a gulp of the water. “Stop, Warren. We’re making a scene.”

  “We’ve been doing that for the past ten minutes and you’re just now telling me to stop? Okay, okay,” he said, and took a deep breath. “Trust me, babe, when the time is right, I’ll make my proposal memorable. It won’t happen at Bennie’s Rib Shack, as much as I love the food here, okay?”

  “And it won’t be because you feel a tad bit jealous of another man?”

  She’d filled him in on her earlier conversation with Brent, and he had applauded her for doing the right thing and letting her ex remain part of her past.

  Warren snorted. “Jealous? Of Brent? He’s the one who has reason to be jealous, Dayna. You’re with me now.”

  Her smile softened and she reached for his hand again. “I love you, Warren.”

  “I know you do, D. Where do we go from here?” he asked.

  After eighteen months of dating it wasn’t as if he were moving their relationship to the fast track, but the questions were coming when she felt least prepared to answer them. Despite his protests, maybe he did feel threatened by a married, dying man.

  “What is it, Warren?”

  He looked perplexed. “What do you mean?”

  “Why all of this talk about marriage all of a sudden? You know I’m not going anywhere. You make me very happy.”

  He smiled.

  She realized he wasn’t going to tell her what had prompted his questions tonight and she decided not to push. Whatever his reasons, they would eventually be revealed.

  “How is Michael’s thumb healing?”

  “It’s doing okay, but I’ve been meaning to tell you, he’s scheduled to undergo surgery the day after tomorrow at Chesdin Medical’s outpatient clinic. The doctor wants to set the bone right away, before the healing process begins. Fortunately, Michael being a lefty means his schoolwork won’t suffer. I’ll be taking off work to care for him. Lily is planning to be there too.”

  Dayna nodded. She wasn’t thrilled with the idea of him spending time with the still-enamored Lily, but Lily had a right to be there for Michael; she always had been.

  “Should I take off work as well, in case you need me?”

  Warren hesitated, then shook his head. “You can come over to the outpatient clinic and check on us, but you don’t have to take off work. We’ll be fine. Besides, Michael will be so medicated he won’t know whether he’s coming or going. You’ll be at my place this weekend, won’t you? You’ll get to spend time with him then.”

  Dayna nodded a second time. She had grown used to sharing him and his boys with Lily, but sometimes she still felt like he had a life and a family of which she wasn’t a part. She looked forward to that changing once they wed. She was ready for a family of her own.

  Dayna’s ringing cell phone brought her out of her reverie. She looked at the caller ID and raised an eyebrow. “It’s Brent.”

  Warren shrugged and took another bite of rib. “Tell him I said hello.”

  She smirked and took the call.

  Instead of Brent greeting her, it was Tamara. “Why have you been calling my husband? Enough is enough, Dayna. He’s no longer yours. Just let it go, so we can move on with whatever time we have left together.”

  Dayna was stunned. Where had this come from? Was Tamara really bold enough to try and turn the tables? Before she could offer a response, the line went dead. She was left holding the phone and an attitude.

  nineteen

  Tamara fingered Brent’s cell phone like it was a bomb that could explode if she moved the wrong way.

  Had she really just made the crazy-wife call?

  She wanted to pinch herself awake, but that wasn’t necessary. Yes — in a momentary lapse of judgment she had let her negative thoughts mushroom and conjured up enough anger to replicate what Dayna had once done to her.

  Making that “leave my man alone” call was the depth of desperation. Tamara looked toward the bedroom door, wondering when Brent would come through it and what he would say if he found her sitting here looking guilty, holding the evidence in her hand.

  God, help me fix this. That call was out of line and I knew it. Tell me what to do.

  She bowed her head, closed her eyes, and waited.

  Why couldn’t God be like those annoying telemarketers who bugged you until you gave in to what they wanted, or at least until you listened to their entire spiel? No, God wasn’t demanding or overbearing, and for those very reasons, he wasn’t going to give her the guidance she needed on a silver platter. Still, she sensed in her spirit what the good and right thing would be, even though it would cost her more trouble than she cared for.

  Tamara slid off the edge of the bed. She tucked the cell phone into the pocket of her bubblegum-pink leisure suit and glanced at herself in the mirror.

  She was beautiful and she knew it. Brent told her every day. Other men swooned, and women stole sideways glances when they thought she wasn’t aware. So why didn’t she feel lovely inside anymore? Why was she so numb, and afraid?

  She swallowed the lump in her throat and tried to quiet her thumping heartbeat with a few deep breaths before she faced her husband.

  Tamara found Brent in the family room flipping from one ESPN channel to another. She plopped on the sofa and snuggled under his shoulder, like always.

  She gazed up at him and fought to keep the tears at bay. How much longer would this be possible? He felt thinner by the day and seemed to be wasting away before her eyes.

  Before more negative thoughts left her speculating the worst, Brent distracted her with a kiss.

  “What are you up to, love?”

  She wanted to shrink. How was she going to tell him what she’d done? Just how should she broach this subject before Dayna called back and told him herself? The best solution was to stop plotting and get it over with.

  Tamara stretched out across his lap and slid the remote from his fingers. She lowered the TV volume and peered into his eyes with a pained smile. “Brent, do I seem like the jealous type?”

  He frowned. “Is that a trick question?”

  “What if I told you I did something because I was … concerned about losing you to someone else?”

  “Girl, I’ve been given less than a year to live and you’re worried about fighting another woman for me? Guess a brother still has it.”

  He cradled her head with his hands, lowered his face to hers, and kissed her.

  A tear slid out of the corner of Tamara’s eye.

  Why are you taking him, Lord? I need him.

  Brent grew concerned. “What’s wrong, Tami?”

  She sat up so she could face him and dabbed at her moist eyes. “I did something stupid just now. When I went into the bedroom and saw your phone on the dresser, it started vibrating, so I picked it up to bring it to you. The call from your friend Tim went to your voicemail, but since I had the phone, I scrolled through your other calls. I got upset when I saw that Dayna contacted you today.”

  Brent stared at her for what felt like a lifetime.

  “And?”

  “And so I called her and told her to back off.”

  Brent shook his head. He slid Tamara off his lap and walked across the room to shut off the TV, though the remote had been next to him on the sofa.

  “So what’s that about, Tami? I’ve gone out of my way to be up-front with you about my interactions with Dayna. She called me today to give me some information on setting up a foundation. Have you checked your email? She said she was going to forward the info to you too.”

  Tamara’s heart sank. She had assumed the worst and embarrassed them both. She looked at Brent and
apologized with her eyes, but her spirit was still defiant. She couldn’t do anything about losing him to cancer, but she wasn’t going to willingly give him back to Dayna. Ms. Dayna had had her chance, and while things hadn’t been handled the right way, life was different now. Brent was Tamara’s husband, and she intended to keep him.

  “I thought we agreed that she wouldn’t help with the foundation,” Tamara said. “What’s the email about?”

  Brent ran his wide palm across his close-shaven head. Since he was no longer taking chemo and radiation, his hair had slowly started to grow in, and he kept it cut low.

  “I haven’t had a chance to tell you that she declined to help us with the foundation, in part because of the very attitude you showed today,” he said. “She was uncomfortable with the idea and sensed that you were too. She was calling to tell me she had done some online research for us, and she has asked someone with the hospital’s foundation to give us some guidance. That’s all, baby; that’s all.”

  Brent looked angry, then sad. He spread his arms and motioned for Tamara to approach him. She let him wrap her in an embrace. Then she rested her head against his chest and wept.

  “We’ve come too far for you not to trust me, Tami. We’re in this together.”

  She nodded and continued to cling to him. She knew she was wrong, but she just wanted Dayna to go away. Why had he felt the need to contact her anyway? Life was complicated enough without his ex-wife’s presence. Dayna might no longer be planning to help with the foundation, but now that they had made contact with her after all these years, she was part of their world again.

  Look at her and Brent right now, talking about Dayna and thinking about her when she was nowhere around. At least Tamara knew that’s what she had been doing — obsessing over the ex-wife. She prayed right now, for the umpteenth time, that Brent wasn’t doing the same.

  twenty

  Warren and Dayna steered their vehicles in different directions when they left the rib shack parking lot, but seconds later resumed their conversation.