A Cold Piece of Work (39 page)

I
F YOU ENJOYED
“A C
OLD
P
IECE OF
W
ORK,” CHECK OUT THIS EXCERPT FROM
C
URTIS
B
UNN'S FORTHCOMING NOVEL

HOMECOMING WEEKEND

C
OMING
S
EPTEMBER 2012 FROM
S
TREBOR
B
OOKS

I
t was times like this when Jimmy resented his wife. He hated that she tainted his thoughts on marriage because he actually looked at the institution as something to savor. But his wife, well, she could create excruciating occasions that made him feel like getting into his car and driving off to no place in particular, just away from her, never bothering to look back.

Was it an overreaction? Maybe. Well, likely. But he was not a deadbeat husband, a bore or a louse. He, in fact, was the opposite, which, he believed, entitled him to some understanding and not the blow-torch heat his wife was known for spewing.

On this day in particular, it ate at Jimmy like a run-amok virus.

He had waited an entire decade for this weekend.

It was Homecoming.

Monica knew how excited he was about the trip—he talked
incessantly about how much he looked forward to going back to his old college—but that did not stop her filling Jimmy's head with exactly what it did not welcome.

He had the trip all planned out. He was trying to get onto Interstate 95 South by noon so he could arrive before traffic built up at the tunnel between Hampton and Norfolk, Virginia around 3 o'clock. It was a solid three-hour, fifteen-minute drive from their home in Southeast Washington, D.C—and that included time for him to stop downtown to get his customary road food: a half-smoke with mustard and onions, a box of Boston Baked Beans candy, pumpkin seeds and a Welch's grape soda.

Monica, his wife, was sweet on occasion, needy on many and overbearing on too many. This was one of her patented melt-downs that bothered Jimmy like that sound of chalk screeching across a blackboard. When she acted as she did on this day— standing over him as he packed his bags, arms folded, mouth going, attitude funky—it was a miserable existence for Jimmy. He didn't do drama well, and Monica was in straight Queen Drama mode.

While she was dramatic and even over the top…she had a valid argument. She wondered why her husband was going back to Norfolk State University's homecoming without her?

Jimmy was so frustrated because of what he deemed her sinister objective: to pressure and nag him into not going or to bring her along, even as he was moments from departing. At worse, she wanted to put him in a foul mood so he would not enjoy himself.
Selfish
, he thought.

Why else would she go into her histrionics now? he surmised.
She knew I was going to homecoming for several months.
To act a fool just as he was about to leave frustrated him.

“I can't believe this is happening,” he said. He had much more to say, but he worked hard on controlling his fly-off-the-handle
temper, and the best way to handle that moment was to shut it down as best he could.

“Believe it,” she said with much attitude.

Monica was not cute when she was this way. Ordinarily, she was a good-looking woman, not breathtaking but certainly attractive enough for Jimmy to be proud to call her his wife. When she was this way, though, she didn't look the same. In his eyes, she resembled something awkward and distorted, totally unappealing.

Her eyes seemed to darken and to fall back into the sockets, and she held a perceptible amount of saliva in her mouth. Some creature took over her physical being and the devil owned her mind, Jimmy thought.

Still, he loved his wife. She could be worse; their marriage could be worse. He could have been like one of his close friends, Lonnie, who simply had been emasculated by his spouse. She controlled everything from what he did (or didn't do) to with whom among his “friends” he communicated. He became a joke among their friends.

Monica was not
that
bad. This level of discord was not regular behavior; Jimmy would not have been able to take it if it were the norm. Other times she got on his nerves (what woman didn't?) for one thing or another, and he would often acquiesce, mumbling to himself:
Keep the peace.

She figured that if she griped enough Jimmy would again look to keep the peace and give in. She was wrong. No amount of badgering was going to turn his position. For the most part, she was a responsible, fun wife and mother of their two kids. But something about him going back to his alma mater for homecoming turned her paranoid. Jimmy remained calm, but he would not budge.

“Baby,” he said, trying his best to not sound condescending,
“why must we go through this now? You knew about this trip for months. I'm about to leave. This makes no sense.”

“Why is it that you
have
to go
and
that I can't go with you?” Monica said.

She went with Jimmy, a captain in the Army, a few places across the country. They moved back to D.C. from California less than a year before, which was good and bad in this situation. It was good because he was back home and it was much easier to get to Norfolk from D.C. than the West Coast or the foreign stops they had. It was bad because he could not fall back on the excuse that it was not “cost-efficient” for both of them to make the cross-country trip for a two-day weekend, as he had in the past.

Jimmy's reality was that his wife did not go to Norfolk State. She did not go to an historically black college at all, which meant, to Jimmy, she didn't understand the value of the weekend—or that there was sort of a “no-spouse code” among most alumni, at least among those he knew well from school.

She went to the “University of Something or Other in Ohio,” he liked to say, where the brothers and sisters there were in the vast minority. So, while homecoming there surely was fun, it did not include all the elements that make homecoming at an HBCU a special experience and sort of a family reunion.

Jimmy had been in touch with classmates who talked about how impressed and proud they were to see how much their school had grown. They talked about there being fifty-thousand people there, all black, all caught up in the pride and celebratory spirit that homecoming raises. At a non-HBCU, the homecoming weekend was about the football game mostly and a whole bunch of stuff that did not measure up to the cultural experience of an HBCU. At least that's what Jimmy—and many—thought.

“And there's nothing wrong with that,” he told Monica. “It's
just different. Our weekend is about us, the fellowshipping, the tailgate (before, during and after the game), the band, the parties and, above all, the pride of being at a place that essentially was home for us as teenagers. The place, really, where we were nurtured and grew up. That's what the black college experience gives you.

“Homecoming,” he said, “is a celebration of all that.”

“So what are you saying? Your homecoming means more to you than mine because you went to a black college?” Monica argued. “That's crazy.”

“I'm not saying your homecoming isn't as important to you or that it isn't fun and great,” Jimmy said. “But the mere fact that you have asked me to come with you to yours tells me you're not having that much fun.

“Listen, honey, it's not like I'm going there and meeting with some woman,” he went on. “I feel funny about even having to say that. But that's what it comes down to, doesn't it?”

Jimmy lived mostly on the West Coast during the years after he graduated with honors as a commissioned officer. He had not made it back to a single homecoming since graduation. For the six years they had been married, Jimmy hardly even talked of homecoming because attending did not seem reasonable, as they lived on the West Coast on a wire-thin budget. He either could not take TDY (leave) because had duty he could not abandon— or he was deployed to the Middle East. Surviving both Iraq and Afghanistan and moving back to D.C. allowed him to get excited about making homecoming, especially after he took Monica to campus during a summer visit to Virginia Beach.

“Monica, I told you on that trip that I was going to homecoming,” he said, placing the last of his clothes in his luggage. “Don't act like you don't remember.”

He lifted his zipped bag onto its wheels and headed to the
garage door so he could dump it in the trunk and keep it moving.

“This is the only weekend I get all year to myself,” he said. He was calm even though he was furious to have to go through such explanation. He somehow mastered the art—and it was an art— of composing himself in his most heated moments. Jimmy, in fact, smiled as he explained his position although he was percolating inside.

“I go hard as a husband and father,” he said. “I don't golf, so I don't do golf trips. I don't run off to visit my family without you. I don't go the Super Bowl or NBA All-Star Weekend. I don't go visiting one of my boys for the weekend. This is it. I deserve this break.”

The most important reason of all…he had to explain to her again just before he got into his car.

He said: “Even if I did take an occasional trip, this should not be a problem. I have earned it. Plus, you didn't go to school there. So, you'd be standing around bored, looking for me to entertain you. To be honest, I couldn't have the same kind of fun I normally would have with my fraternity brothers and friends. It's innocent fun, but we use harsh language and tell jokes that are not always, uh, politically correct. It's part of what we do. I'm not comfortable doing that around you and you'd be monitoring how much I drink, what I say, what I eat, who I hugged. I can hear you now: ‘Who was that? An old girlfriend? Did you sleep with her?' That's not how it should be.

“Also, I would feel like I had to keep you from being miserable. I can hear you now complaining at the tailgate about needing to sit down and not wanting to go to the bathroom in the Porta Potty or not wanting the food. All that would not be fair to me at my homecoming.

“I have seen people—men and women—bring their spouses
and have a miserable time because they were restricted. When you have your homecoming, I don't even think about going. I know you and your girlfriends want to talk freely and me being there would prevent that. And I don't know those people, so I don't want to be there, putting you in the awkward position of trying to keep me amused. It wouldn't be fair.”

Monica was unfazed. “But that's the difference between you and me,” she said. “I would enjoy my friends meeting my husband. But you'd prefer to run off like you're single.”

Jimmy's patience was diminishing.

“You know, you're about to piss me off,” he started. “All that I said and that's what you come back with? First of all, if they were really your friends, I would have met them by now. This isn't a family vacation. When you go on your book club trip to Atlanta, I know it's not a family trip. It's for you and your girls. I don't know what the hell y'all do down there and I don't really care. I trust that you understand you're married and will act like it. But you don't invite me on that trip and you shouldn't. That's how my homecoming is. It's not about acting like I'm single. Act like you know me.”

With that, he knew he needed to leave before the scene turned ugly. He was a thirty-two-year-old man and she was making him feel like he was a kid asking for permission, which did not sit well with him—especially since it had been established long before that he was going alone.

“Monica,” he said, hugging her; she did not hug him back, “I love you and I will call you when I get to Norfolk. Stop pouting and wish me a good time.”

She just looked at him. They had a stare-down for a few seconds before Jimmy turned, opened the garage door, deposited his luggage and jumped into his car.

Monica stood there with her arms folded and a look of disgust on her face.

He honked his horn as he backed out. Jimmy did not like that his wife was being so sour about his homecoming trip. But he couldn't worry about it, either. If he did, it would put a cloud over his weekend. The forecast called for seventy-two degrees and lots of sun, meaning there was no room for clouds.

So instead of feeling awkward about leaving her there pissed at him, he felt reinvigorated, relieved and ready.

To really put that nonsense behind him, he called one of his boys, Carter, who was flying into Norfolk from New York. He was a fun and level-headed friend who graduated a year before Jimmy.

“Yo, I'm in a cab headed to LaGuardia,” he said. “I can't wait to get down there. I got some work to do.”

“Work to do” meant he had women to conquer. Homecoming was like a free-for-all for Carter.

“I don't think I'm going to make the parties,” he said.

“What? How you gonna come to Homecoming and miss the parties?” Jimmy asked.

“Oh, that's right; we haven't really talked,” he said. “Homecoming is a time for me and Barbara to reconnect. She's the love of my life, man. I should never have let her go back in the day. It's the biggest mistake of my life.”

At least Carter was divorced, which allowed him to do whatever he liked.

“But hold up—isn't Barbara married?” Jimmy asked.

“With three kids, too,” Carter said. It was strange the way he said it, like he was proud.

“I know that was your girl about a decade ago,” Jimmy said. “But, man, she has a family now. And Barbara was a good girl. You think she's coming to Homecoming to get with you?”

“You don't understand, Jimbo,” Carter said. “What she and I have is not ordinary. Why you think she's coming all the way from San Diego? We both tried to move on with our lives. And we have moved on, to a degree. But we still have that connection. Actually, it's even stronger now than ever. It's crazy.”