“We need to talk, Ty.”
“Yeah. Just not now. I’m tired and I’m late.” He turned away, left the room, and slammed the bathroom door behind him.
For several moments I stared at the closed door, shut in my face, locking me out. Uncertainty and fear built steadily like a campfire within me, the flames fed by the winds of doubt.
Taylor never closed me out. Until now. Talking, sharing, had been the cornerstone of our relationship, of who we were, what kept it healthy, growing, alive. Without that cornerstone, it was only a matter of time before our foundation began to crumble, and everything with it.
Since the beginning, I instinctively knew I could count on Taylor, his ability to anchor me, weather the storm—the assurance that no matter what we were in this relationship together, kept me grounded, secure. Now I faced a Taylor I did not know. This new reality danced without rhythm in my head.
Disoriented from our confrontation and groggy from a lack of a decent night’s sleep, I made my way down the hall to wake Jamel for school.
“Where’s Daddy?” Jamel mumbled, rubbing his eyes.
My chest heaved. “He’s getting dressed for work, Sweetie. Come on. You need to get ready for school.”
“I’m hungry.”
“What else is new?” I teased, relishing the one thing that was familiar. It seemed as if my life was spinning out of sync, and the only thing holding me together was Jamel.
While I was preparing Jamel’s bowl of Frosted Flakes, Taylor walked into the kitchen.
“Daddy!”
Jamel sprinted from his seat at the table and jumped into Taylor’s arms.
“Hey, Buddy.” He squeezed Jamel to him.
“You was gone,” Jamel whined.
“I had some things to do, Buddy.”
“I’m eating Frosted Flakes.”
Taylor grinned, carried Jamel back to the table and deposited him in his seat.
“Make sure you eat it all so you can get big.”
“Like you.” He grinned and shoved a spoonful of cereal into his mouth.
Watching the two of them, so easy and comfortable with each other, my soul filled with so many emotions. How could I jeopardize this? Taylor, sensing my stare, looked up.
Sunlight streamed in through the kitchen window, resting, it seemed, on his wide shoulders. I saw his eyes then, looking dark and distant, the shadows of a sleepless night ringing them like poorly applied mascara.
My heart thumped in my chest.
“I’m late,” was all he said to me before turning away and walking toward the front door.
“Taylor, wait.”
I followed him, but it seemed he wasn’t going to stop, as if he’d already dismissed me.
He put his hand on the door, stopped, and then turned toward me. For a moment he looked down, as if the words he was ready to speak had fallen and he was searching for them, needing to gather them up to make sense.
When he looked up at me, I knew I’d never felt such terror, such bottomless fear, that whatever was to come next would change our relationship forever.
He blew out a breath. “I’ve been doing a lot of thinking Max, all night. I never deluded myself into believing that I could ever replace Quinn, be Quinn in your life, in your heart, in your body. What I believe I brought to this relationship was something real, not that make-believe bull that you had happening with him.
“I love you, and Jamel—just like he’s my own son. But he’s not, and the first time that reality scared me was last night. It shook me, Max, that you’d take yourself up to New York, work out whatever you think you need to work out with this man, and then he’d come for his son. The boy I raised.”
I saw his throat working up and down, as if he were trying to keep that knot of hurt from planting itself permanently there.
My eyes were burning, and I swore that my heart was being squeezed out of my chest. I wanted to run to him, wrap him in my arms, and make the past forty-eight hours disappear, make everything go back to the way it was. But I couldn’t—just as Taylor told me when we’d first met.
“So.” He blew out a long breath, raised his chin for a moment, and gazed up at the ceiling as if he could no longer bear to look at me. “I decided that maybe it’s best if you do go to New York, Max. Settle this thing once and for all, so that you can move on with your life.” He jammed his hands into his pockets. “If there’s one thing I’ve never done, it’s stand in the of what you wanted, and apparently going to New York to be with Quinn is it. No matter what that decision will do to us. You think about it, Maxine. Really think about it. I don’t want you to go. I can’t be any clearer than that. But the ball is in your court.”
By the time I finally shook off the impact of his declaration, I heard his car pull out of the driveway.
He was gone. Out the door. And maybe out of my life.
Too many thoughts circled around me, like hungry buzzards waiting to pick apart an unlucky victim. Me.
What had I done? Better yet, what was I going to do? I was hard pressed to believe that Taylor would actually walk out on what we had simply because I elected to go to New York to be supportive of a friend during a difficult time.
But what if he did? Suppose he wasn’t simply challenging me—what then?
No. He wouldn’t do that. Not Taylor. We’d talk tonight when he came home. Really talk. I’d go to New York, come back, and everything would be as it was.
You’re fooling yourself a voice whispered. Things will never be as they were.
“So, what are you going to do”? Marva asked me later that day after I’d told her about Taylor’s ultimatum.
“I’m going. Just like I planned,” I answered, trying to sound resolute. I propped my hip on the edge of her desk and crossed my arms.
“And risk what you have with Taylor? Is that what I’m hearing?”
“Taylor will understand when he calms down. And if he doesn’t, maybe what we have isn’t all it’s cracked up to be if he can’t trust me.”
Marva let out a snide laugh. “If I remember correctly, it was you who said you didn’t trust yourself.”
I rolled my eyes. “That was yesterday. I wasn’t thinking clearly.”
“But you’re thinking clearly now?” She flashed me “that look” again.
“I can handle this, Marva. I need to handle this. And Ty’s just gonna have to give me the chance to do it.”
“Whatever you say, Maxine. And whatever it is you think you have to prove, I hope it’s worth it.”
I got up from her desk, crossed the room with plenty of attitude, and plopped down in my chair. “If I remember correctly, you were the one who said I needed to go.”
“Listen, Max—bottom line, no one can tell you anything one way or the other. Only you know what’s in your heart and mind, and what you’re up against. Yes, you do need to settle this thing between you and Quinn. Yes, he does need to be told about his son. The question becomes, are you willing to deal with the consequences?”
I bit down on my lip—a bad habit I have when I’m wrestling with a problem. I tossed around what Marva said, and replayed Taylor’s words of that morning. At some point I was going to have to come to terms with my feelings for Quinn, say all the things I never had the chance to say. And if not now, then when? But when I did, when I opened the door to the past, unlocked the secrets and spoke the words, nothing would be the same for any of us ever again.
I would be changed, and Quinn, Taylor, and Jamel. The fabric of our lives would become unraveled, and it would take everything that all of us had—what we shared—to put it together again. But what would the pattern of our lives really be? And could Taylor and I withstand the changes that my decision would evoke?
Taylor. I hadn’t heard from him all day. My calls to his office had gone unreturned. “He’s in conference,” was the first response. “He’s out of the office,” was next. “I left your messages,” was said with just a taste of, “You’re getting on my last nerve now,” underlying the receptionist’s voice. I had a good mind to call his partner CJ to find out where Taylor was, and what he was so involved in that he couldn’t, or wouldn’t, return my calls. I thought better of it. No point in getting CJ involved in our drama—although he probably knew, anyway.
Ty and CJ were thicker than the mob. The tie between them unbreakable. I knew CJ wasn’t too crazy about me in the beginning. He felt I was bringing nothing but trouble and heartache into Taylor’s life and had no problem about telling me so.
“Don’t mess with my man’s head,” he’d warned me as he carried a carton of Ty’s CDs into the town house the day Ty moved in with me. “He really digs you, Maxine. Ty’s a good brother, and I don’t want to see him hurt. Not by you. Not by anybody.”
His jaw clenched and I saw the muscles in his arms flex. His nut-brown face darkened ominously.
“I wouldn’t hurt Taylor. I wouldn’t,” I swore, staring into his unflinching eyes. And at that moment, I knew CJ would have no problem making me a vague memory if I messed with his boy.
“Hey, listen, it’s not about what you wouldn’t do, Maxine. You got a lot of baggage comin’ into this thing. Ty’s not just takin’ you on—but—”
He looked down at my rounded belly with an accusing look in his eyes. And all of a sudden I felt ashamed, almost guilty, and I wasn’t sure why. There was nothing for me to be ashamed of. This baby, my baby, was conceived in love. Not some one-night stand.
“…you know what I mean,” he was saying.
“Yeah, I know exactly what you mean, Calvin,” I snapped, ready for a throw-down. “But the bottom line is, this is between me and Taylor. You can have whatever opinion you want about me. That’s your business. But when it’s all said and done, it’s about us loving each other and making a life together. Now, you may not like me,” I said, getting on a serious roll. “I can’t worry about that. I’m not in this to win a popularity contest with you as the judge. The only person whose opinion matters, one way or the other, is Taylor. Period, End of story.”
We stared each other down for a minute, and then all of a sudden his expression softened and he tossed his head back and laughed.
“You know something, Maxine Sherman—you’re all right.”
He strolled into the house and the topic never came up again. Over the ensuing months, CJ and I actually became friends, close. We respected each other’s boundaries and accepted the fact that we both loved Taylor.
It was CJ who took me to the hospital when I went into labor, and held my hand until Taylor arrived on a red-eye flight from Chicago. He stood as Jamel’s godfather, and I bent his ear on many an occasion planning surprise parties for Ty’s birthdays, or crazy anniversary ideas I’d come up with. And it was me he came to all love-struck and tongue-tied when he wanted to ask his longtime girlfriend, Tracy, to marry him.
“What if she says no?” he lamented.
“CJ, what if she says yes, fool? You know she will. That’s what’s scaring you.”
He grinned and kissed me on the cheek. “That’s why I dig you, Max. You don’t pull any punches. So—you gonna come with me to pick out a ring, or what?”
Sure, I could call CJ, ask him what was going on with Taylor, but I didn’t think I could stand to hear what I knew would be accusation and disappointment in his voice.
Besides, if Taylor didn’t want to talk to me, if he didn’t want to listen and try to understand, then fine. And CJ certainly didn’t need to know about that—although he probably did, already.
But in the meantime, I still had to get the ball rolling. I was going to New York, to prove something to myself, to Taylor, and to Quinn, once and for all. And, however the pieces fell, I would deal with the consequences.
I made arrangements with Marva to take care of Jamel while I was gone, especially since I had no idea what Taylor’s plans were. I didn’t want to think about it. I left work early, picked up Jamel from day care and took him to Marva’s house. The possibility of Taylor walking out on us was a concept I didn’t want to imagine. Besides, if I gave into Taylor’s real wish for me not to go to New York, what would be next? What else would he not want me to do, and hold the threat of leaving me over my head if I went against him?
That idea took root, giving me the last ounce of determination I needed to do what must be done. Yeah, he had a lot of nerve.
But even as I put my key in the door of the house that Ty and I shared, all the bravado in the world couldn’t have prepared me for what I found.
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