My Sister's Ex (2 page)

“Do you mean you want to postpone everything? Give yourself more time?” Jeff softly asked me, obviously just to be sure I meant what I said.

“Um, I mean that I won’t be marrying you anytime soon.”

Even though I spoke firmly, I couldn’t help notice how his face was stricken with frustration, a stunned gaze, as if he’d just been sacked by several 350-pound football players.

Strangely enough, I felt as frightened as Jeff looked. I never wanted to be responsible for someone else’s sorrow. It’s not that I didn’t love him; I just didn’t feel prepared to go the demanding distance that marital love requires. And as much as I felt he loved me, I wasn’t sure Jeff was as ready for this big step as he believed he was.

“I-I don’t understand.”

“I know you don’t understand now, but maybe you will later. I need time to discover who I am as a person, as a woman …” Jeff was staring at me in such an odd way that the remaining things I wanted to say skidded into silence. An uncomfortable feeling began to enlarge. The intensity felt like a ticking bomb.

“Are you sure about this?” he finally asked.

“Yes, I am, Jeff. But, no, I—. Look, don’t make this any harder …”

“You’re going to regret this. You know that, don’t you?”

“Oh, honey, don’t be mad.”

“I’m not mad, Rachel. I’m happy. So completely happy that I now understand you never really loved me like you said you did. Telling me you loved me because you thought it was the thing you’re supposed to say. Love isn’t what you say, Rachel … it’s what you do.”

Love is what I do.

I
do
.

I messed up the chance to tell Jeff “I do.”

Have you ever made a decision and instantly regretted it but felt too embarrassed to speak up? To back out? Listening to Jeff tell me off for breaking his heart was probably the most grueling thing I’ve ever experienced. Listening to the truth about myself, my indecisiveness, my inability to truly commit to something and see it through to the end. But hearing him
rip me apart made me realize, Rachel, even if you could change your mind, don’t. It’s too late. The damage is done. He’ll never believe that you honestly loved him. Never.

There I was feeling stupid and miserable and wondering if I could change my mind, undo my confusion. While I wrestled with my decision, Jeff suddenly hopped off his seat, kicked violently at some rocks, and laughed bitterly. “I’m glad I got the news you don’t love me before you officially became Mrs. Williams. At least now I get to hold on to my fifty percent. You probably just wanted me for my money.”

“Please, Jeff, don’t say that.” I turned around in my seat and stared. “It hurts, it’s not true, and it’s not nice.”

“Why are you concerned about me being nice to you? I was
too
nice to you, Rachel! That’s the problem. You complained you wanted a good black man, saying how hard it is to find a decent brother, and when the good Lord blessed you with our relationship, you still act like you can’t love and appreciate me. Rachel, I thought you were the intelligent, mature, and classy type, but I see I was wrong.”

“Jeff!” I screamed. “Please stop, please.”

“No, no, no. Don’t cry Rachel. Too late for crying. You made this decision, and for once I’m not going to try to talk you out of what you feel you have to do.”

“Jeff, baby, please.”

“Not your baby anymore, Rachel. You’ve relinquished your right to call me baby, to call me period, or to do anything with me. Did you think about all this before you made your decision?”

“Baby!” I screamed louder, not able to help myself. “Please stop, I can’t stand listening to what you’re saying. Don’t you know you’re hurting me?”

“Where’s my ring?” he said. And the fact that he said it with immeasurable calmness is what hurt the most. As angry
as Jeff was, I knew he still loved me, but how could he go from raging emotion to great calm within two seconds?

“W-what did you say?” I blinked.

“Don’t act stupid, Rachel. I paid a grip for that piece of jewelry; hell, it could’ve been a down payment for a house … a house with a new woman who can appreciate a good, honest, decent man when she sees one. I can’t believe I was ready to marry you, ready to waste my life with an immature ass—”

“Stop, stop, Jeff, you’re talking crazy.”

I was sniffing and snorting loudly. Gobs of yellowy milky snot spilled from my nose, sliding rapidly, almost resting inside my open mouth. I looked the most natural type of ugly, and I knew that wasn’t making anything better. And right then, almost instantly, my regrets nagged at me like guilt pointing its finger whenever I do something wrong. I felt so confused, so hurt, so wounded. I didn’t realize that making this kind of decision would affect me in a way I never imagined.

Foolish me.

While I continued to weep, Jeff resumed ranting and raving, actually screamed at me the way a ten-year-old boy screams at his little sister for losing his favorite video game.

I was standing up by then, shoulders shaking uncontrollably, and, wishing I could hide, I slowly backed away from Jeff. He rushed at me, grabbed my hand, and forcibly removed the engagement ring from my finger; he twisted and turned and pulled on the ring until it popped off, making my skin look bloodred. He peered angrily at the ring, then shoved it in his pocket.

Boy, was it beautiful: eighteen-carat white gold with sixteen exquisite diamonds. It always flashed brilliantly in the sunlight, partially blinding me whenever I stared at it with dreamy eyes. I went to bed wearing that ring, showered with
it on, always gently stroked its beauty with my fingers. But I guess I should have loved the man more than the ring. And after Jeff snatched and concealed the jewelry he stared at me with hateful, water-filled eyes. He looked like he wanted to say something else but abruptly turned and walked away from me.

I watched my now ex-fiancé’s back grow smaller until a lonely distance was created between us. When I couldn’t handle looking at him anymore, I fled to my car, trying to leave Memorial Park as fast as possible.

I got in my car and drove toward home, still weeping and mumbling, “Oh God, oh Jesus, please help me, I’m about to lose my mind. I’m sorry, I’m sorry, so sorry.”

I felt so distraught and confused that I missed my exit driving south on I-59 toward Sugar Land. Every landmark flashed by me so fast. I quickly sped past a shopping complex called The Fountains, the Kim Son Restaurant, Borders bookstore. Further down the road and across the highway was the defunct Bill Heard Chevrolet. I drove with such speed I felt as if I were ascending toward a place I’ve never been.

And remembering the day that I broke up with him, I find myself here, alone in the apartment. I tightly hold the phone in my hand and listen to my ex romance my sister. I think deeply about my relationship with Jeffrey Williams. Why on earth would Marlene betray me by going out with Jeff? I wonder about where I have been, and try to figure out where I’m going.

— 2 —
M
ARLENE

The Jeffrey Williams Way

“Wooo, Jeff, be careful,”
I sweetly tell him as I stick a forkful of steak and mushrooms near his open mouth. The well-done meat is sizzling and dripping with savory brown juices.

“Mmm,” Jeff moans, eating up everything off the fork. “That tastes sooo good, Marlene. More, more, more.”

I giggle and continue feeding this starving man. “You like that, Jeffy Jeff?”

“I love it, girl, but I feel guilty. I should be feeding you. You’re the one who deserves to be honored.”

“Awww, that’s so sweet. But it’s cool. I love doing this; just don’t let that meat burn your tongue. What on earth can I do with a burnt tongue, you know what I’m saying?” I hope Jeff understands my sense of humor and realizes it’s also an attempt to show him I am a sensual woman. He’s ever so polite, and I want to get him to be more than just a good friend to me. When I ran into him today at Walgreens during my lunch break, we caught up on the current happenings. He’s still purchasing and renting out property all over Houston. I’m still doing the bank thing and am contemplating taking a night class at the University of Houston. All safe, simple info. But I was careful not to mention Rachel. She was
like the big ole elephant standing in the itty-bitty room, and I wanted to keep it that way. Instead of bringing her up, I excitedly mentioned the fact that my boss promoted me to lead bank teller earlier today.

“Yep, Jeff, it’s cool to be doing something different. I’ve been at the darned bank more than three years now, and they’re just now recognizing a sista’s skills.”

“Well, congrats, Marlene. Hey, we ought to do something special. You wanna go out with me tonight? Do a little something something to celebrate your promotion?”

“Hey, I’m cool with that.” Inside I was screaming with pure excitement over the fact that Jeff wanted to go out, but outwardly I feigned an expression that suggested I didn’t give a care one way or the other. I feel it’s important to show a little interest but never act too desperate. Although I’ve always liked him, it doesn’t mean that he feels the same about me. Plus, I noticed that he didn’t seem to be concerned about Rachel, which made me wonder about his motives. Is it an innocent dinner? Would Rachel even care if I spent time with her ex? I felt a teensy nervous about what she may think but was too thrilled about going out with him to even second-guess what I was doing at the time.

“Alrighty then, let’s just meet up at seven or so,” Jeff told me. “I would scoop you up, but I got to meet a couple potential tenants at one of my properties on the north side.”

I really didn’t believe him when he said he would pick me up. After all, I live with his ex. I’m not sure if he wants to face Rachel under those circumstances. And I am not ready to face her, either. How would I be able to explain our being together? Besides, if it turns out to be just dinner, there won’t be any need to tell her anything.

So that’s how we hooked up at a restaurant. Wasn’t
planned at all. Yeah, I got real lucky. But before meeting Jeff for dinner, I needed to make a little pit stop at my church, Solomon’s Temple. As a high-ranking member of the college scholarship committee, I’d taken home tons of papers a few days ago, prescreening applicant info that I insert into a nice fancy spreadsheet. As soon as I returned the scholarship applications back to ST’s administrative office, I sped to the steak restaurant, eager to meet up with my sister’s ex.

I went on about my merry little way, and, quite naturally, I wasn’t about to tell Rachel where I was going and who I was meeting to celebrate my good news. That would’ve been like asking Flavor Flav to get a face-lift. Dude thinks he’s fine just the way he is, so there’s no need to insult him about the way his face looks. And that’s how Rachel would’ve felt: insulted, pissed, hurt, wounded, every negative adjective in the dictionary.

But if things go the way I hope they will, I will have to figure out a nice way to get this girl to calm down and maybe grow used to the idea of a Jeffrey Williams and Marlene Draper hookup. I may be rushing things, but, shoot, when it comes to love, strange things happen. People fall in love at first sight. They end up with someone they hadn’t counted on. So you can’t help who you fall in love with. Rachel’s twenty-two; she oughta know that. And just because things didn’t work out between her and Jeff doesn’t mean I’m not allowed to get to know him better, right? Show me the written rule that says she and I can never be attracted to the same guy. If Chance and Real both knowingly went on the
I Love New York
reality show to compete for the same woman, then it’s also not unusual for me to be attracted to a guy Rachel’s dated.

“Hey baby, taste this,” I say to Jeff. I gently press a forkful of veggies against his open mouth. I didn’t feel as if I was
overly flirting by calling Jeff “baby.” In the South, that’s just our standard friendly way of talking to people. Certain people.

“Mmm, it’s good.” He takes one bite but then glances closely at the food. “Ooo, hey don’t do that,” Jeff says, laughing.

“What?”

“Um, I don’t do broccoli. I like the cauliflower and carrots, but broccoli makes me break out.”

“Oh, sorry. I’ll have to remember that. You know I can throw down in the kitchen.”

“I’m sure you can,” he says, and eyes me up and down. “I’ve tasted your delicious cooking before.”

“Oh, yeah?” I say, smiling into his eyes and ready to hear how we’re connected in a way I didn’t realize.

“Yep, Rachel would …” and his strong voice turns into a weak whisper. And I flinch at hearing her name again, but am determined not to let his conscience spoil our night.

“Hey, let’s toast,” I say, changing the subject.

“Damn, you’re right. Sorry.” He smiles and picks up his glass of wine, raising it high above our table. “To Marlene Draper. Congratulations on your promotion, the increase in salary, and to your fabulous new beginnings at Compass Bank.”

“… and new beginnings for my life,
period,”
I say with determination. “This promotion makes me feel like I can improve in other parts of my life. Including my love life, which hasn’t been the most wonderful.”

“Oh, yeah?” Jeff grins. “What’s been going on?”

“I just haven’t met the kind of guy who gets me excited to wake up in the morning, you know what I’m saying? But today, right now, I just feel encouraged about my future,” I say and smile broadly. “You feel me?”

“I do understand. When good things happen, even if they are tiny, you feel hope about everything around you.”

“I couldn’t have said it better myself, Jeff.”

We clink glasses. He starts to take a sip of his wine, but I clear my throat. “Excuse me.”

“What?”

“We need to wrap our hands around each other, and I’m supposed to spill a little of my drink into your glass and vice versa.”

“Huh?” Jeff frowns.

“Toasting is to ensure that there’s no poison in our drinks. That we both trust each other enough to drink from the same glass. That way I know you aren’t trying to kill me.” I laugh.