Getting to the Good Part Page 21

“Reesy’s been so caught up in working in the show, Mrs. Snowden. Looks like she’s found her niche. Wasn’t she wonderful out there tonight?”

  It was a pitiful attempt at creating a diversion. But my mother was having none of Misty Fine’s red herrings tonight.

  “Hmm?” Tyrene repeated, staring into my eyes. She didn’t even acknowledge the fact that Misty had so much as breathed. “Is this young man your beau? Are you two serious? Because it’s time for you to settle down, you know, like Misty here. You’re much too old to be gallivanting around as you do. Christ, you’ll be forty in a few short years!”

  “Tyrene,” I said evenly, trying to keep my cool. “I’m thirty-two. Forty is still quite a ways off, don’t you think?”

  “It is closer than you realize,” she replied.

  “Yes, Teresa,” Tyrone concurred. “It’s not that far away. That’s retirement age, for people who invest well. Look at you. You’re just getting started on what you’re calling a career. God knows, in eight years, which is nothing, you will have barely made any progress at all.”

  I was fuming. Hot like fire. It’s a wonder smoke wasn’t coming out of my ears. This was supposed to be a celebratory night for me.

  “You didn’t retire at forty,” I replied. “So why would you suggest it for someone else?”

  Tyrone stroked his full, neatly trimmed salt-and-pepper beard casually as he responded.

  “I can if I want to, though. That’s the difference between you and your mother and me.”

  Dandre rubbed my leg beneath the table. That helped calm my nerves a little.

  “Tweety, I like this place!” Grandma Tyler said. “It’s just like I thought it would be!”

  “I’m glad, Granny. Did you have a good time at the show?”

  “I had a wonderful time, baby! I agree with Misty. You’ve definitely found your niche!”

  Misty smiled at me. I smiled back at her across the table, silently wondering how I was going to drop that dime on her about her man.

  “Now, Teresa,” my father began. “How many years do you plan on doing this theater thing? Keep in mind that you’re starting your career late. You can’t really build a future on this.”

  Everyone else at the table, with the exception of my mother, seemed to feel a little awkward. Under the table, Dandre gave my hand a supportive squeeze.

  “So everyone here has eaten?” I asked.

  “Uh-huh,” Misty nodded.

  “Good. Then I don’t feel so bad.”

  I stood up, holding Dandre’s hand, and thereby pulling him up with me.

  “Well, folks! It’s been a long day! I’m too tired to eat, too tired to fight, too tired to do anything but take my butt to bed!”

  I leaned over and kissed Grandma Tyler on the cheek.

  “Love you, Granny. I’ll call you when you get back home.”

  “You’d better give me a hug, Tweety!”

  I did. A nice, long, warm and fuzzy embrace that made us both tear up a little.

  “Love you, lady,” I whispered again.

  “Love you more,” she rasped right back.

  I walked around to Tyrone and Tyrene, and bent down and kissed them both on the cheek.

  “Thanks for coming up here to see me. It meant a lot to me to know you’re so supportive. I love you guys.”

  I beamed at them. It knocked any iota of wind remaining right out of their gusty sails.

  Misty turned around and reached for me. I gave her a great big hug.

  “We’ll talk tomorrow,” she said.

  “Yeah. Perhaps we can do lunch.”

  “Cool.”

  Rick gave me a quick peck on the cheek.

  “Later, lucky lady.”

  “Yeah, Rick,” I said, managing to pull off a pseudo-politeness. “Much later for you, too.”

  I clasped Dandre’s hand tighter and pulled him away from the table.

  “Goodnight, everybody,” he said.

  “Yeah. Goodnight, y’all,” I said with a grin.

  The last thing I saw as he and I happily walked away was the o-shaped mouths of Tyrone and Tyrene.

  Their lips were so tight, they looked like they were about to whistle.

  O, WHAT A TANGLED WEB

  I was sitting across from Misty in Dolce on Forty-ninth, wolfing down the calamari salad with the lime vinaigrette.

  I was in heaven. That salad was da bomb.

  Unfortunately, the salad was probably going to be the only thing good to come out of that lunch. What went down today, I knew for sure, wasn’t going to be nuthin’ nice.

  See, I had asked Misty to lunch for a reason.

  She thought it was for us to do more planning for the wedding, which was only a month away.

  They were getting married quick. I guess she didn’t want to give him a chance to back out.

  She’d brought samples of bridesmaids’ dresses that she had torn out from magazines, and a picture of the wedding dress she’d finally decided on.

  I had no interest in any of that stuff whatsoever.

  This was probably the most exciting time in her life—the planning of her wedding—and I had been barely involved at all. She had called me quite a few times here and there, asking my advice about things.

  My comments were usually agreeable. I very rarely indulged her topics. It was hard, because I really didn’t endorse the marriage to begin with.

  And here she sat now, wanting to chatter on about what to wear and who to have wear it.

  Like I said, I couldn’t care less.

  I wanted to talk to her about what I had seen between Rick and Tamara the night before.

  And, knowing Misty the way I do, I could pretty much guess that she wouldn’t like hearing it. She’d be miserable and hurt. Ol’ girl had been down this road one time too many before.

  “I still can’t believe that he bought you a car!” Misty was saying now, as she daintily cut away at her blackened salmon.

  I nodded, swallowing a mouthful of food. The salad was huge, but I was giving it my best shot.

  “Actually,” I said haltingly, still trying to force down a corner of calamari, “he’s just letting me borrow it.”

  Misty’s twisted her mouth up tightly and clucked her tongue.

  “Child, please! How can you even sit over there and tell me that lie?! You know he bought that car for you! Dandre is totally sprung!”

  She dragged a piece of salmon through a rich yellow cream sauce on the side of her plate.

  “How do you know that?” I replied. “Just because he’s dropping dollars for an expensive gift, that doesn’t mean he’s sprung. You yourself told me he was a rich kid who did nothing but spend his daddy’s money. No skin off his teeth. I’m sure I’m not the first woman he’s done something like this for. It’s just his dick talking.”

  Misty shook her head as she forked another morsel.

  “I wouldn’t be so certain about that. You’re not giving yourself enough credit. And you’re not giving him credit for being real with you. Rick said this is the first time he’s ever seen Dandre act like this. He said Dandre’s not even seeing anybody else.”

  “Rick said,” I mimicked sarcastically. “And, of course, he’s the epitome of ironclad truth.”

  A bite-sized, coral-colored, fleshy piece of salmon was on its way into Misty’s open mouth.

  At my words, her fork froze in midair.

  “What do you mean by that statement? You were much too nasty in the way you said it.”

  I chewed my food slowly, mouth closed, eyes fixed on her.

  She sighed with frustration.

  “What’s up with you? Why can’t you just give a brother a break? Damn!! Everybody ain’t out to screw you over, like you think!”

  “Trust me,” I said with a smack, “I ain’t eeeemuch worried about that happening. I demand my respect, and I don’t take no mess. From nobody.”

  “Wait… So are you trying to say that… that I take mess?”

  Misty had put her fo
rk down by now. Her arms were resting on the table.

  “Are we having a fight?” she asked with concern. “Are you mad at me about something? ’Cause if so, then why don’t you just spit it out, instead of directing it at Rick and attacking him.”

  “Look at you. Always defending the man. I hope he’s out there defending you the same way. If he’s not too distracted.”

  “All right, Reesy!! That’s enough!! He is my fiancé. I’m not gonna just sit here and let you run him down like this. Why the sudden turn on Rick? He’s done nothing but be respectful to you!”

  “But is he respecting you?”

  “I’ve gotten too old for your games,” she mumbled dismissively, looking off into the crowded restaurant. “This dumb shit you pull doesn’t even faze me anymore.”

  She thought I was playing with her, as though I had time for that.

  “Listen, Miss Divine,” I began, my tone firm and direct. “If I were you, I would check my man. While you’re sitting around tearing pictures outta magazines and trying on dresses, brother’s still out there hoe-hoppin’ and chasing skirts!”

  “I’m not gonna even dignify that with a remark,” she replied.

  I threw my hands up in frustration.

  “What motive would I have for wrecking up your shit?” I demanded. “It’s not like my plate ain’t full of more important things these days.”

  “I don’t know, Reesy. Just what motive would you have? You haven’t been all that enthusiastic about Rick and me from day one. I see how you roll your eyes at us sometimes when we’re cuddling or kissing.”

  I sat there, a smirk on my face. She didn’t even get it.

  “Can’t you be happy for me? Look at how supportive I am of all the wonderful things that are happening in your life!”

  I was surprised to learn that she’d been so aware of my growing negativity. I had no idea she’d even been paying me that much attention.

  “This is not about me not being happy for you,” I protested. “This is about the fact that your fiancé is a dog!!”

  “That’s it!!” Misty announced, removing her napkin from her lap and tossing it atop her plate. “I’m outta here. I don’t have time for this bullshit of yours!”

  She pushed back from the table.

  “I saw him coming on to another woman Saturday night,” I blurted. “That bitch Tamara. The one I told you about.”

  She reached into her bag, pulled out her wallet, and threw two twenties on the table.

  “I got lunch,” I said, holding up my hand.

  “No!!” Misty snapped. “I’ll pay for my own shit!!”

  She turned away and stormed out of the restaurant.

  I let out a deep sigh. This whole thing had gone all wrong. I mean, I knew that she was going to be upset. That was a given. But never once did it occur to me that she just flat-out wouldn’t believe me.

  Rick obviously had her wrapped around his finger. He was playing her ass like a trump-tight hand of spades.

  I picked up her money and dropped it inside my purse. I had no intentions of spending it. I was going to turn around and give it right back to her.

  I pulled out my own money and placed it on the table.

  I got up, determined to follow her and talk. It was not my intent to alienate her again. She just needed a reality check. Dude was dogging her and she didn’t even care.

  I saw her a few feet ahead, her heels clicking angrily down the sidewalk.

  “Misty!!” I yelled. “Misty!!”

  “You just stay the hell away from me!!” she shouted, her hand up in the air. “I’ve had enough of you! I don’t want to hear it anymore!!”

  She didn’t even bother to turn around.

  A few people passing by gave me curious stares.

  Great. To make matters worse, this was now beginning to look like a lesbian lovers’ quarrel.

  I stopped walking after her, realizing it was useless.

  “Whatever,” I said to myself, as I walked back down the street and around the corner, to where I’d parked the car.

  Well, I’d done my part. I tried to tell her what was going on.

  She didn’t hear me, though.

  I opened the driver’s side of the Boxster and slid into the seat. I sat there like that for a minute, my head resting against the steering wheel.

  I was tired of this. Misty and I were fighting way more than usual. I couldn’t figure out why.

  Both of us were so sensitive these days. We’d been trippin’ harder in the past few months than we’d ever done before.

  Maybe it was me. I’d been having a lot of negative feelings about her and Rick, but it wasn’t like I’d done anything deliberate to cockblock their relationship. I’d kept my thoughts to myself.

  What I told her today was totally different. It had nothing to do with anything else. Today was all about Rick’s behavior, not mine.

  It wasn’t like I didn’t have a history of telling Misty things I noticed about her men. She’d always listened before.

  Well, maybe not all the time.

  But she’d never turned on me before, or called me a flat-out liar. What I said always had, at the very least, carried a little bit of weight.

  I suddenly thought of the words to that old Carole King song from the seventies, “It’s Too Late.”

  “One of us is changing, or maybe we both stopped trying.”

  I raised my head and put the key in the ignition.

  I began to worry, thinking about the rest of that song. I hoped it wasn’t too late. I didn’t want to lose Miss Divine.

  But I wasn’t going to sit there quietly, either, and watch her get hurt.

  “So sue me for caring,” I mumbled as I cranked up the Boxster and pulled away.

  I stopped by the Nexus to see if Julian was around. The first thing I noticed before I even went inside was that the marquee was different.

  It no longer said Reesy. It had been changed to Teresa.

  The Germans weren’t wasting any time.

  I made my way through the dark and empty theater, back to where Gordon’s offices, and, consequently, Gordon and the fellas, could usually be found.

  It didn’t take me long to locate Julian.

  He, Gordon, and Dreyfus were, as I suspected, in Gordon’s office backstage, chattering loudly.

  I stuck my head in the door.

  “What’s up, y’all? What are you three in here cooking up?”

  “Hey, nigra!” Julian said. “You get my message?”

  I walked in and sat down beside him on the couch.

  “What message?” I asked, letting out a big sigh.

  “About the Village Voice and the New York Times,” he replied.

  He raised up off the couch and reached for a stack of newspapers that were sitting on Gordon’s desk. He handed me the one on top. It was the Village Voice.

  “There was a really nice write-up in there,” Gordon said.

  “Where?” I asked, riffling through the pages. “Show it to me.”

  Julian took the paper from me and leafed through it.

  “Here it is,” he said, pointing.

  I took it back from him, my eyes rapidly scanning the article.

  My heart practically stopped when I read the line “Reesy Snowden is the newest, brightest star in the Nubian sky.”

  “Did you see this?” I babbled stupidly, pointing at the words.

  “Of course we did, fool!” Julian laughed. “We’re the ones showing it to you!”

  I couldn’t believe it. The press was actually embracing me specifically. In all the great things that had been said about Rowena, no one had ever said anything as glowing as this.

  “Woooooo-hoooooooo!!!!”

  I kicked my feet up in the air.

  “I didn’t even know there was a Nubian sky,” I squealed excitedly, my eyes still glued to the paper, “and now I’m a star in it!!”

  “Hey,” Julian laughed. “At least we got one.”

  He was right about t
hat. Thanks to productions by the Fats Wallers, Duke Ellingtons, and the contemporary August Wilsons, Savion Glovers, and Gordon Stocks of the world, among others, more and more stars would get a chance to be added.

  “Show her the other one,” Dreyfus said.

  “Oh yeah,” Julian remembered, going through the pile of papers in his lap.

  He flipped through a few pages and found the one he was looking for. It was earmarked.

  “Look at this,” he said, tapping the page with his finger. “This was in the Times.”

  I took the paper from him, searching for my name.

  I found it in a tiny, unassuming blurb in the lower right-hand corner of the page.

  Black Barry’s Pie, a popular new off-Broadway musical, opened Saturday night’s show wearing a different face as the lead. Newcomer Reesy Snowden replaces mega-talent Rowena Shaw (now Hollywood-bound) as the irrepressible Mimosa Jones, to the surprise and delight of the audience and this reviewer. Snowden is pure vamp and energy, giving an already-tight show a clever, seductive spin. Featuring an all-black cast, Black Barry’s Pie is a must-see. Reesy Snowden, despite her name, has the makings of a stellar career.

  “Despite her name?” I said, looking around at the guys.

  “She bypasses all the positive stuff,” Julian mumbled, throwing up his hands, “and singles out that one line.”

  “But Helmut and Gustav were right,” Gordon said. “Teresa does have a much better ring.”

  I leaned back on the couch, still clutching the paper.

  “Which explains why the marquee has been changed,” I replied, nodding.

  “Yep,” Julian concurred. “Did it first thing this morning. Hope you don’t mind.”

  “I ain’t mad at cha,” I laughed.

  I raised up off the couch.

  “Can I take these?” I asked, holding up the two newspapers.

  “Y-y-yeah,” Julian answered hesitantly. “I suppose. We can always go get more.”

  I headed for the door.

  “Where you going?” Gordon asked. “You just got here.”

  “I gotta go see somebody,” I replied. “And take care of some business.”

  Julian’s eyes narrowed suspiciously.

  I looked away, avoiding his gaze.

  “See y’all later,” I said with a wave and took off out the door.