Berry Picking (5 page)

Her mother had called her father and within four days they were on a plane, with several suitcases carrying all their belongings, heading for Toronto, Canada, where a friend of her father was waiting for them. He had been very helpful, securing a house for them, enrolling them in school and introducing them to the African immigrant community there. At first, her mother regretted her decision, there were no housemaids, or drivers to run her errands, but Paula and her siblings all pitched in to help. Once they all finished middle school, her mother decided to move to Maryland, where her Aunt Miriam lived. Her mother still lived on the monthly stipend her father sent for them. Paula had never been able to understand why they stayed married, but over the years she had accepted their relationship for what it was.

Unlike her father, Conrad wasn't wealthy. He wasn't handsome. He wasn't charming. Just solid. Nothing to brag about. Could she handle that? How would she be around her friends whose husbands were far more dashing? She had one friend whose husband wasn't attractive but at least he was wealthy and showered her friend with gifts and affection. Then there was another friend whose husband was not wealthy but was drool-worthy gorgeous. When he walked into a room, all heads turned. Then there was Tamara, who had gotten both a wealthy and attractive catch and was the envy of their close-knit Afro-Caribbean community. But Tamara hadn't worried about Conrad being neither wealthy nor handsome, she'd liked him and had thought he would be a good catch for her. She didn't need his money, she had plenty of her own and he wasn't intimated by her income, although some men had been. Yet she knew he wouldn't pass her mother's scrutiny and she still had doubts.

“Choose a man who won't shame you,” her mother said.

Paula listened knowing that Conrad wouldn't stand a chance.

***

Her mother's words came back to Paula a couple of weeks later when she received the award announcement. She'd won. Paula stared at the announcement stunned. All her work and sacrifice on her job had been worth it. First she'd seen her company’s business nearly triple after signing the contract with the entrepreneur; and now she'd won a prestigious award. She had to tell Conrad. She reached for the phone, but before she picked it up, it rang. She glanced at the number. It was Andre. She hesitated then answered.

“Congratulations,” he said.

“You heard already?”

“I knew when the announcements would come out and checked.”

“I can't believe it.”

“You worked hard. You'll love the banquet.”

She paused. “Banquet?”

“Yes, that's when you'll receive your prize.”

How could she have forgotten about the banquet? That's when all her peers would be there. She could imagine Conrad spilling his drink on a guest or staining his shirt again, the thought made her groan.

“Is something wrong?” Andre asked.

Yes.
“No.”

“You know, you haven't given me an answer about dinner.”

Of course, Andre would never make a mistake like that. He moved easily through a crowd and people liked him. He'd make a great escort. That's all he would be. Conrad didn't need to know about the banquet and she'd tell him about the prize later.

“I've got something better in mind,” she said.

“I'm so proud of you!” her Aunt Miriam said giving her a fierce hug. Paula had stopped by her aunt's shop to tell her the good news. “What has Conrad said?”

“I haven't told him yet.”

She narrowed her eyes. “Why not?”

“I'll tell him later.”

“What are you hiding?”

“I've decided to go to the banquet with Andre.”

“Why?”

“It will be better.”

“For whom?” her aunt challenged.

“Both of us.”

“I haven't even met him yet and you're already throwing him away?”

“I'm not thr--”

“Then why won't you take him?” she cut in.

“He's socially awkward. It's not the kind of atmosphere where anything can go wrong. This night means a lot to me.”

“You sound like your mother.”

“She has a point. What he doesn't know--”

“Will hurt both of you.”

“Don't be so dramatic.”

“I don't care if he wears clown shoes, if you love him, you'll tell him. He has the right to know.” She held her arms and shook her. “Listen to me on this: Tell Conrad.”

But she didn't. Paula convinced herself it was best for both of them. After the banquet she would tell him how long and boring it was. How she wanted to save him the agony of having to dress up like a penguin in a tuxedo, which she knew he hated, and then they'd laugh about it. It would be fine, although it was hard not to tell him about the award. He'd been so supportive, but she only had to keep it from him for a little while. She could do that.

***

The night of the banquet was perfection. Paula felt like a queen and reveled in the envious glances and whispered remarks from the women wondering who her date was and commenting on what a handsome pair they made. “See Dad, I'm a success,” she thought as she left the stage holding her award. She hadn't realized that after so many years, his opinion still mattered, but now she was past it. Growing up she had wanted her father to be there to see her successes, but he never came. Over time, she and her siblings saw him only on a few occasions, and knew of him only as their “financial” provider and father in name only. Tonight she was beautiful, and successful, with a man at her side who projected the right image. She glanced at her aunt who was frowning and her mother who was beaming. She exited the ballroom and headed for the ladies' room.

“I can't believe you came with that smiley faced boy,” her aunt said as she entered the room.

Paula touched up her lipstick then put the tube away. “Andre's really a great guy.”

“I was hoping to meet Conrad tonight. I dressed up with extra care for him.”

“You'll meet him another time,” Paula said then turned and left, with her aunt following close behind.

Unfortunately, she was wrong. The moment she and her aunt left the ladies room, Conrad came out of another room. He saw her and smiled and walked towards her. He was dressed in a pair of casual jeans and a fitted polo jumper, carrying his tuba in a large case.

Paula halted, her heart hitting the floor. “Oh no.”

“What?”

“That's him,” Paula said in near panic, wishing she could hide.

“Who?”

Paula didn't get a chance to reply. Conrad stopped in front of them and grinned. “Wow. You look sensational.” His gaze skimming over her dress with male admiration. “I’m here with my band, we just finished playing a gig for a retirement party. What's the occasion for you?”

“Um...” Paula turned to her aunt, hoping to change the topic. “This is my Aunt--”

“Miriam,” he finished. He shook her hand. “A pleasure to finally meet you,” he said his warm gaze making her blush.

“Thank you.”

“There you are,” Andre said coming up behind her. “You can't win an award and then disappear. People want to talk to you.”

Paula glanced at Conrad. She didn't want to, but she had to see how the news affected him.

He didn't look surprised or hurt--he looked devastated. He was as clumsy at hiding his feelings as he was with his limbs, letting his heart spill out for everyone to see instead of keeping it guarded like a mature adult. It angered her. She wanted to shout at him
“No, you're doing it all wrong. You're supposed to act as if you don't care. As if I don't matter to you.”
She hated how vulnerable he looked, how his emotions were so raw and real. But worse, she hated him making her feel vulnerable, because she was the cause. Had he kept his expression neutral she could have convinced herself that it was no big deal, but he'd not given her the option. She'd made a terrible mistake and would have to face the consequences.

“You won the award?” he said.

“She didn't tell you?” Andre said. “You're looking at the recipient of --”

“It's no big deal,” Paula interrupted.

“Of course it's a big deal,” Conrad said the pain in his eyes reflected in his voice. “Congratulations.”

She couldn't say “thank you.” She couldn't say anything. She just wanted to run. But there was no need. Conrad turned and left and at that moment she knew she'd lost him. But she didn't want to. She raced after him and grabbed his sleeve. “I'm sorry.”

“For what?” he said sounding defeated.

“I should have told you about the award and the banquet, but I know how much you hate crowds and--”

He spun around, his eyes hard and dark. “You think I wouldn't want to be by your side while you accept a prize you worked hard for? You should know me better than that. You know that no matter how much I hate dressing up, sit-down dinners and podium speeches, I would have come. I would have done anything for you. Now tell me the truth.”

She took a step back unnerved by the ferocity of his tone. “The truth?”

“Yes. The truth is you didn't want me to come.”

She wanted to lie but knew that he'd see right through her, just as he had the first time they'd met. “It was a stupid choice and a vain decision. I regretted it the moment I made it.”

“But you didn’t change your mind.” He sighed with exasperation. “You know you matter to me, but the truth is
that
doesn't matter to you. I don't matter. I see that now.”

“You've got it all wrong.”

“Really? I am a man and I have an ego and desires just like any other man. And I can tell when the woman I care about is ashamed of me.”

Paula shook her head and kept her voice steady. “I'm not ashamed.”

He set his case down and folded his arms. “When were you going to introduce me to your family? How about your friends? I've only met Tamara and that wasn't through you. When was I going to move past just being a friend? Did you think I'd be fine just holding your hand and giving you light kisses?” He lifted his tuba case. “I know I'm not perfect and I know I'm the right man for you, but I'm not going to wait around until you figure it out.”

“Paula, time to go,” Andre said, coming up behind her and gently pulling on her arm.

She didn’t move. She felt like she was being torn in two directions.

Conrad glanced past her and looked at Andre then returned his gaze to her. “You do look good together.”

She blinked back tears. “No, it's not like that. I--”

“Bye, Paula.” He stared at her for a long moment then shook his head and walked away.

***

That night Paula lay in bed, praying for sleep that refused to come.

She felt like a butterfly whose wings had been ripped. She should forget him but she couldn't. She should bask in the approval of her mother and the envy of her friends, but she couldn't. She'd hurt him, but the most awful part was realizing that her selfish behavior showed how much she didn't deserve him. She deserved the dreamers and egos. They reflected a side of her she'd never taken the time to see. Not only had she picked berries that were shiny on the outside and bitter on the inside, she was one of them. Outwardly beautiful but inwardly sour.

She suddenly felt disgusted with herself. What had Conrad seen? How could he have cared for her? He was too kind, too giving, he deserved a woman who was the same. But that didn't stop her from wanting him. “Because I'm a selfish cow,” she said aloud. His grandmother had been right not to trust her. She didn't deserve him. And she now understood what her aunt meant about her marriages: heaven and hell. It wasn't about the men but how the men made her feel. Not how the world viewed them but what others couldn't see, just as heaven and hell were whatever people imagined them to be.

But suddenly that didn't matter anymore, because she realized that too much was based on what was seen. Her mother had been the envy of her town for marrying the wealthy bank executive, Mr. Nelson Oyelowo and joining his household, but behind closed doors she had to endure the jealousies, unhappiness, and loneliness. Her mother had hated the loneliness the most. She never knew when her father would select her for the night and sleep in her bed. She hated how his last wife flaunted her beauty and schemed and manipulated him, and how blind he had become to the needs of his other wives.

As it was for blackberries, it really didn't matter what things looked like on the outside. What mattered was how things were on the inside. How they tasted. Paula remembered how the berry had melted in her mouth. She knew when people looked at Conrad they would see a large, shy man with an awkward gait. His former tailor had seen a soft hearted man he could sucker, his chef friend saw someone he could con. What she remembered of him was how beautiful and intelligent his eyes were; how he'd been the first person she'd called when she'd had to evacuate her apartment building in the middle of the night, due to a gas leak scare and how he'd stayed on the phone with her the entire time, his soothing voice making her feel cherished. How he'd highlighted all the best places for her to go to in the area for the best hiking trails or kayaking, even though he preferred a simple walk in the park or renting a tandem bicycle and going nowhere special. Most people wouldn’t see his unselfish ways by just looking at him.

Paula suddenly realized those were the moments that truly counted. How he made her feel, not how everyone thought he looked or how they felt about him.

***

“So what are you going to do?” her aunt asked the next day, as Paula sat in her kitchen snacking on some dried fruit.

“There's nothing to do,” she said feeling tired. “I can't get him back.”

“You can at least try.”

“You saw his face. It's hopeless.”

“Yes, I saw his face and I know he loves you. You're making it hopeless by not even trying.”

He may have loved her once, but not anymore. “He won't want me back.”

“Is that fear talking?”

“Yes,” Paula said fighting against tears. “I don't want to fail.”

“Is he worth failing for?”

“It's me. I know he deserves better.”

“Then be better.”

“How?”