Damsels in Distress (12 page)

“Uh, no. From the balance on your account, I say that everything is right. Girl, what do you do for a living?”

“I don't work.”

Celeste glanced at the computer screen again to make sure that she had indeed seen at least six digits. “You don't?”

“My husband is a motorman for the Chicago Transit Authority,” Latricia offered.

Celeste smiled. “Really? So is Tony but our bank account don't look like yours.”

“And we own four chicken shacks. David and I.”

Celeste looked at the check Latricia had given her and saw two names on the top left corner. She was so intrigued by the amount of money in the bank account, Celeste hadn't noticed there was a second name. “David and Latricia Hall?” She looked up from the check at Latricia. “When did you get married?”

“A year ago,” Latricia answered, smiling.

“Well, congratulations. How's married life?” Celeste asked.

“It has its ups and downs but, overall, we're happy.”

Heck, with that kind of money you better be happy.
“And that's all that matters, Latricia.” Celeste stamped the check on the reverse side and opened the cash drawer. “How would you like your cash?”

“All hundreds would be good.”

Humph, humph, humph. Must be nice.
Celeste saw that she had only a few hundred-dollar bills in her drawer. She closed it. “You're the type of customer who requires a visit to the vault. I'll be back in a few.” Celeste closed her cash drawer and stepped away.

She returned with a stack of one-hundred-dollar bills in her hand. “Here we are,” she said. Celeste stood on the opposite side of the counter and started to count the money. She laid the bills on the counter one by one. “One hundred, two hundred, three hundred, four hundred, five hundred, six . . .” Celeste stopped counting. Something dawned on her.

She looked at the man's name on the computer screen:
David Hall
. Celeste could have sworn Portia said she was dealing with a guy with that same name who lived in the Chatham area. Celeste read the address on the account. Latricia and her husband resided in the 8800 block of South State Street, right in the heart of Chatham.

Celeste froze.
Oh, my God.

Latricia noticed Celeste's hesitation in counting the money. “What's wrong, Celeste?”

Celeste quickly composed herself. “I thought I felt my baby move,” she lied.

“Wow. That must feel so good.”

“Yeah, it does.”
Lord, please forgive me for lying.
Celeste continued counting the money, placed it in an envelope, and gave it to Latricia. “There you go. Will there be anything else for you today?”

Latricia placed the envelope in her purse. “Nope, this should hold me for a while.”

Suddenly Celeste recalled that Portia also said that David drove trains. Celeste tried to breathe but couldn't. In shock she stood staring at Latricia with an open mouth.

“Celeste, are you okay? You look like you just seen a ghost.”

Get it together, Celeste,
she told herself
.
“Um, yeah, I'm all right. The baby is doing gymnastics. I haven't gotten use to it.” Celeste was angry at Portia for putting her in that position.

On the back of a savings withdrawal slip, Latricia wrote down her home and cellular numbers. “Let's stay in touch, Celeste. And be sure to send me an invitation to your baby shower.”

Celeste didn't quite smile at Latricia but she did the best she could. “Okay, Latricia. I sure will. You take care.”

Latricia said her good-byes and walked away from Celeste's station. Before the next customer could approach her, Celeste set the
NEXT WINDOW
sign on the counter and went to the lounge to lie on a chaise chair. She put one hand on her belly and the other on her forehead then sighed. “Oh, my God,” was all she could say.

* * *

“Attention, all teachers. Miss Brown, please come to the principal's office. Miss Brown, please come to the principal's office.”

Ginger was in the middle of giving a spelling test when she heard the page. “Jamia, I want you to be in charge and take names,” she said to the student who sat closest to her.

Jamia got excited. For once she got to rule the class. She got up from her own desk and sat in Ginger's seat behind the big desk. “Don't worry, Miss Brown. I got this.”

“I'm sure you do, Jamia.” Ginger looked at all the students and made an announcement. “I'll only be gone for a few minutes. I don't wanna see any names on Jamia's list when I get back. Is that clear?”

“Yes, Miss Brown,” the class mumbled.

“I can't hear you,” Ginger stated.

They yelled, “Yes, Miss Brown!”

Ginger left her classroom and walked down the corridor to the administration office and approached the twenty-year-old secretary. “Renita, did you page me?”

Renita had been filing folders into a cabinet when she looked at Ginger standing on the opposite side of her desk. “Yes, I did. Diane wants to see you in her office.”

“Do you have any idea what she wants?”

Renita displayed a huge grin on her face. “Nope.”

Ginger cocked her head to the side and looked at Renita curiously. “Yes, you do.”

“No, I don't,” Renita insisted and kept her smile.

“Then why are you smiling?”

“I can't smile?”

Ginger gave Renita a long stare then looked toward Diane's door and saw it closed. “Who's in there with her?”

“No one. She's waiting for you.”

Ginger slowly walked to Diane's door and knocked. “It's open,” Ginger heard Diane say. She turned the knob and walked in. She saw Diane sitting behind her desk.

“Why am I being paged in the middle of a spelling test?”

Diane looked up from a memo she was writing. “You had a delivery today, a special delivery, might I add.”

Ginger frowned at her. “What kind of delivery?”

Diane nodded her head toward the sitting area in her office. Ginger looked to her right and saw roses on top of roses on top of roses. “What in the world?”

Diane stood up and walked around her desk. She grabbed Ginger's hand and practically skipped over to the sitting area. “Girl, you're looking at five dozen roses. Count them. Five. Dozen. For Ginger Brown. All five of them, girl.” Diane walked around the table where the roses were sitting in glass vases and counted them. “One, two, three, four, five. See, I told ya. Five dozen roses, girl.” Next to the first dozen was a small envelope with Ginger's name on it. Diane picked it up and gave it to her. “Open it.”

Ginger tore the envelope open, pulled out a small white card, and read it silently.

Diane exploded with anticipation. “Who are they from?”

“If you'd let me finish the card, you'll know,” Ginger fussed.

Diane pulled a chair out from under the table and sat down on the edge of the seat. “Read it out loud.”

Ginger looked at Diane. “Diane, you act like you're sitting on the front row at a male strip club. Haven't you ever received flowers before?”

“Nope. I have to live vicariously through other people. Will you please read the card?”

Ginger knew Diane was anxious to find out who had sent her the roses to the school. “What are you willing to do to get me to read it?” Ginger teased.

“I might just give you a beat down if you
don't
read it.”

Ginger chuckled. “It's written in calligraphy and it reads as follows.” She looked at Diane. “Can a sista get a drum roll, please?”

Diane was more than happy to oblige. She turned toward the table and started tapping it quickly with both hands. Before Ginger could get the first word out, Diane's telephone rang. Ginger saw that she wasn't paying it any attention.

“Aren't you gonna answer your phone?”

“Nope. Read the card.”

If Ginger didn't know any better she would've thought Diane was a dope addict waiting for her next fix. “It could be important. What if it's a call you don't wanna miss?”

Diane exhaled and balled up her lips. “Ginger, in about one minute you're gonna be missing two front teeth. Read the darn card.”

“Okay, okay,” Ginger said. “Let's not get hostile.” She looked at Diane's hands then at her eyes.

“What?” Diane asked hastily.

“I told you that I need a drum roll.”

Diane impatiently began tapping the table again. “I'm two seconds off of you, Ginger.”

Ginger brought the card to her face and read it. “‘Roses are red, violets are blue. Buying you dinner and flowers can't compare to what I'm prepared to bestow upon you. Ginger, these roses are beautiful but they don't measure up to the beauty I see in you. Joseph Banks.'”

Diane leaned back in the chair and crossed her left leg over her right knee. “Who is Joseph Banks and where can I get me one just like him?”

Ginger was smiling wide as she place the card back in its envelope. “Joseph is a man I met in church on Sunday. He asked me to dinner and invited Portia and Celeste to come along. I turned him down and told him the three of us already had dinner plans but big mouth Portia just had to tell him where we would be eating. He came to the restaurant and requested the bill for our table, paid it, and left. And last night at church I bumped into Joseph when I was coming out of the bathroom. He was standing there waiting to tell me that I was an angel sent from above and God told him to get me while the getting was good. He also said that God revealed to him that I was his Eve.”

Diane was impressed. “Wow. So, what are you gonna do?”

Ginger sat down in a chair next to Diane. “Diane, Joseph seems nice but I don't know him. After all the mess Ronald put me through, how do I know that I can trust Joseph?”

“Ginger, are you sure that you've crossed that bridge with Ronald?” Diane asked. It seemed that Ginger was holding on to feelings she may still have for Ronald.

“Not only did I cross it, Diane; I burned every step behind me so I wouldn't cross back, even if I wanted to.”

“Well, if there's no turning back, the only thing to do is move forward, honey. And if you ask me, dinner and five dozen roses was the right kind of inspiration that you needed to put your feet in gear.”

Ginger looked at all the roses Joseph had sent. “I hear you, Diane. One thing puzzles me though. How did Joseph know where to find me?”

They both said at the same time, “Big mouth Portia.”

* * *

At the end of the day, Ginger went back to Diane's office to retrieve her roses and saw that Diane had left already. Ginger set one of the vases on her desk. She wrote “Now someone can live vicariously through you” on a Post-it note and pasted it to one of the roses. Ginger looked at the four remaining vases filled with beautiful red roses.

Speaking with Diane helped Ginger realize that she couldn't run from love. If Joseph was heaven-sent, then Ginger would accept her blessing with open arms. “Okay, Lord, I don't know where this is going to lead, but I trust you.”

Ginger walked in her front door and set two vases of roses she was carrying on the cocktail table. Since the day she beat Ronald with the rolling pin, Ginger entered her home through the front door. She went back to her car and retrieved the other two vases and brought them inside. After fluffing and sniffing the roses for what seemed like the hundredth time, Ginger pressed the play button on her answering machine. The first message was from Celeste.

“Ginger, gurrrrlllll, call me as sooooooon as you get in. You won't believe what I found out today.” Beep.

“Hmm, sounds like you have some good, hot gossip, Celeste,” Ginger murmured.

“Ginger, I did something I hope you'll forgive me for. That guy, Joseph, begged me for your work location. Please don't be mad.” Beep.

“I know you can't help yourself, Portia. You're just a busybody,” Ginger said to the answering machine. She erased both messages and went to her bedroom and changed from her work clothes into a pair of palazzo pajamas. She was walking into the kitchen to see what she would make herself for dinner when the loud shrill of the telephone startled her. Ginger grabbed the receiver from the wall next to the refrigerator. “Hello?”

“Did you get my message?” Celeste rushed the words from her lips.

“Yes, Celeste, I got your message about ten seconds ago. I was gonna call you back but can a sista get in the door, sit down, and kick her heels up first?”

“Are you in the door yet?”

“Yes.”

“Are you sitting down?”

Ginger pulled a chair out from beneath the new marble kitchen table and sat down. “Yes.”

“Did you kick your heels up?”

“Yes, Celeste!” Ginger yelled into the receiver. “What is so urgent?”

“Do you remember Latricia Jenkins from high school?”

Ginger tried to imagine a face to go with the name. “Uh-uh.”

“Yes, you do. She's the girl who used to pull the fire alarm just so that we could get out of class. Remember?”

“Oh, yeah,” Ginger said when her memory cooperated. “The chubby girl with the thick glasses. We were juniors then. Man, those were some good times.”

“Well, she ain't chubby anymore and she lost those bifocals. Anyway, Latricia came into the bank today to cash a check.”

“How is she doing?” Ginger asked.

“She's fine. She said she got married a year ago.”

“Good for her.”

“I don't know how good it really is, Ginger,” Celeste said remembering the information she had found out earlier that day.

“What do you mean?”

“Latricia is married to a guy named David Hall and they live in the Chatham community.”

Ginger didn't see how Celeste concluded that Latricia and her husband living in the Chatham area of the city couldn't be good. Chatham was an excellent community. “Uh-huh. And?”

“Ginger, what did Portia say her current beau's name was? And where did she say he lived?”

Ginger's mouth fell open. She sat straight up in her chair. “Oh, my God. You think it's the same David Hall?”

“I hope it's not the same guy, Ginger. Do you remember where Portia said David worked?”

“She was bragging that he made a lot of money working for the Chicago Transit Authority. She was all excited that she found another sugar daddy to pay her rent.”

“That's what I remembered too. And Latricia said her husband drove the trains for the Chicago Transit Authority,” Celeste confirmed.

Ginger's mouth fell open again. “Celeste, no.”

“I'm telling you, Ginger, I was too outdone. You see how small this world is?”

“You really think it's him?” Ginger asked.

“How many David Hall's can there be living in the Chatham community and working for the Chicago Transit Authority?”

Ginger shook her head from side to side. “Humph, humph, humph,” she moaned. “Portia should be ashamed of herself. How did Latricia seem? Did she appear to be happy when she mentioned her husband?”

“She said she and David had their ups and downs. That's no different from any other marriage. God knows Anthony and I certainly have taken our ride on the rollercoaster of love. Latricia looked healthy and pretty though. And she doesn't have to work.”

“Humph, if I had a husband pulling a choo-choo, I wouldn't be working either,” Ginger stated.

“Not only is Mr. David Hall supporting a wife who cashes thirty-five-hundred-dollar checks for play money, he's also taking good care of Portia.” Celeste recalled the balance in Latricia and David's bank account. “And judging from the amount of money they have in the bank, heck, David could support Latricia, Portia, and about four or five other women, if he wanted to. And, Ginger, you and I both know that our sista is a high-maintenance chick.”

Ginger was intrigued. “Well, how much money do they have?”

“You know I can't tell you that but I will say this. David and Latricia ain't hurtin' at all, honey. They ain't hurtin' at allllllll.”

Ginger chuckled. “If I'm not mistaken, isn't David the cosigner of Portia's brand-new Escalade?”

“Cosigner and note payer.”

“You'd think after the beating Richard put on Portia for giving his wife a heart attack, she would be done with married men.”

“Humph, Portia didn't even flinch when she found out that Richard's wife had died.”

“You're right,” Ginger stated. “She didn't even accept any fault in it at all. No remorse or regret. Portia moved on to the next married man.”

Celeste exhaled. “It's like she has no conscience. I don't know why she can't find her own man.”

“Because it's a game to her, Celeste. Portia doesn't wanna be in a committed relationship. She claims she doesn't want to be smothered. She knows that a married man will go home to his wife at night and that's just fine with her. Portia's motto has always been, ‘You don't have to love and live with a man for him to take care of you'.”

“Well, you know what, Ginger? One of these wives will eventually catch up with Portia and beat the crap out of her much worse than the hurtin' Richard put on her. These women aren't playing when it comes to their husbands. David has a great job and the CTA has excellent benefits. Latricia doesn't have to work. You think she's just gonna let Portia take her husband from her? And did I mention that Latricia and David own four chicken shacks? She ain't letting that man go.”

“But that's the thing, Celeste. Portia doesn't want David like that. She's not trying to take these men away from their wives. She's in these relationships for the security the men give her.”

“That doesn't make it right, Ginger.”

“Oh no, don't get me wrong. I'm not making excuses for her trifling behind. What Portia is doing is totally wrong as two left feet and I'll be the first to say that. I'm just telling you how she thinks. She doesn't want a ring from these men, only money.”

That bit of information didn't settle well with Celeste. She didn't care what Ginger was talking about. Celeste loved her husband and she took her marriage seriously. And, yes, Portia was her very best friend but Celeste meant what she said in Ginger's living room, months ago, when the three of them had argued. Celeste told Portia that she couldn't trust her around Anthony. The words were said in anger but Celeste meant them wholeheartedly. It was all about the money as far as Portia was concerned and she didn't care whose husband was supplying it. Celeste couldn't say that even though she and Portia were as close as sisters, Portia would never make a play for Anthony. “Be that as it may, these wives won't understand that. If they see a woman trespassing on their territory, all heck will break loose.”

Ginger sensed hostility in Celeste's voice. “Why are you so upset? This is Latricia's problem.”

“A chick like Portia is every married woman's problem. In the bank earlier today, Latricia was happy and she seemed fulfilled. She gave me the impression that she was content in her marriage but I know the real deal.” Celeste placed herself in Latricia's shoes. What if Anthony was paying for another woman's rent, car note, hair, and nails on the down low? It would destroy Celeste if she found out that Anthony was rolling in between bed sheets with someone else. “I'm upset because I'm a wife and I don't know what I'd do if I found out Tony was knocking boots with a Jezebel and paying for it.”

“Darn, Celeste, you may as well come on out and call Portia a whore.”

“Ginger, will I be lying if I did? I love Portia just as much as you do but we both know these married men pay her top dollar for booty. They're not giving her twenty bucks here and there. Portia gets her rent paid, car note paid, jewelry, and furs for sex. Now you tell me, if she's not a whore, what is she? I know Tony loves me. He tells me every day. And I'm positive David Hall is telling Latricia that he loves her, too.”

Ginger heard Celeste loud and clear. But Portia wasn't cheating by herself. The married men she dealt with were more than willing to commit adultery. “Well, Celeste, you can't fault only Portia. It takes two to tango.”

“I'm aware of that, Ginger. But women need to know that we cheapen ourselves when we sleep with married men. We accept the fact that we will always be second and never number one. Who wants to sneak, creep, and hide all the time? Only women with low self-esteem and no morals who don't think they're worth anything or that they deserve better. It's rare that a man leaves his wife for a trick and if he does, he'll do the same thing to the trick that he did to his wife. Yeah, it takes two to tango but a man could only dance around a chick if she allows him to.”

“What can I say, Celeste? You are right. Portia doesn't care what the outcome will do to the wife. Finding out about a cheating spouse, man or woman, can be devastating and tragic. Look what happened to Richard's wife. She died of a heart attack. I fault Portia for that. Our sister or not, she's a woman and she should know better.”

For years Ginger and Celeste had driven down that road with Portia. Trying to get her to realize that she was wrong for carrying on with another woman's husband was like talking to a brick wall.

“Portia is grown, Celeste. How many times have we confronted her about the way she's living? If she wants to sleep with married men, she'll do it. There's nothing we can do about it no matter how much we preach.”

Celeste agreed. “You're right. The only thing we can do is be at the hospital when they call us 'cause married women don't play when chicks like Portia threaten their marriages. ”

“Well, since there's nothing we can do about Portia, let's change the subject.” Ginger was more than happy to change the subject to a happier one. “Guess what I got today.”

“What?” Celeste asked.

“Mr. Joseph Banks sent five dozen red roses to the school.”

“Well, I am not at all surprised. The man is serious and he's coming correct. So, what are you gonna do about it?” Celeste hoped Ginger would let her guard down and stop running.

“Diane asked me that same question. The truth is I don't know what I'm going to do. I don't know the man, where he's from or anything.”

“Ginger, you're the one preventing that information from coming forth. Obviously, Joseph wants to share it with you but you won't give him the time of day. Don't block the blessing, girl.”

“But after all I've been through—”

“Stop it right there, Ginger. Do you hear yourself talking? You said, ‘after all I've been through.' Understand what you're saying. You've been through some mess but you survived it. You are no longer in that mess. You should've been at church when Associate Minister Gordon preached a sermon titled ‘Your Blessing Is on the Other Side of Through.' You're in a dam situation, Ginger.”

Ginger frowned. “A what situation?”

“A dam situation. You know what a dam is, don't you? A dam is a body of water confined by a barrier. Ronald represented the barrier in your life. He blocked everything God wanted you to have. But Ronald is gone now. You've got to knock the barrier down and you do that by seeing yourself blessed, seeing yourself prosper, and seeing yourself taking back everything the devil stole from you. You know what happens when a hole is punched in a barrier? Water oozes through the hole. But when the barrier is knocked completely down, the dam gushes forth and saturates everything in its path. Going back to what Minister Gordon preached about. Your blessing, which is the dam, is on the other side of through, which is the barrier. Joseph Banks is in the dam. And so far, by getting rid of Ronald you've only punched a small hole in the barrier. According to Joseph's card, only dinner and five dozen roses were able to ooze through that small hole. He said that couldn't compare to what he's prepared to bestow upon you. If Joseph is able to squeeze dinner and flowers through a small hole, can you imagine what he has on the other side of the barrier?”

Tears had begun to flow from Ginger's eyes. Celeste was preaching. “But I don't know who Joseph is, Celeste. My instincts tell me he is a wonderful man but I feel like God brought him into my life at the wrong time. I'm not prepared for Joseph.”

“That's how God works, honey. And just so you know, He never does anything at the wrong time. When you least expect it, He will drop a bomb on you. And from what I can see Joseph Banks is
da bomb.
You claim you don't know Joseph but you don't know what else is in the dam either. And since when are the saints of God allowed the privilege to tell Him how and when to bless us or who to bless us with? My advice to you is to trust God and knock down that barrier and let Joseph and everything else come gushing at you. It's time for you to live, Ginger. Don't make the mistake of allowing
fear
to
interfere
with your future.” Celeste hoped Ginger picked up on the dynamic of the words she just spoke to her. “In Malachi, chapter three, God says that He'll open a window and pour you out a blessing that you won't have room enough to receive it. So, my sista, I'll ask the question again. What are you gonna do?”