Homecoming Weekend Page 5

  She was surprised and grateful.

  Her closest friend, Starr, and her husband, Dwayne, joined them. Starr was lively and friendly, happy to see her girl happy. Dwayne was more reserved, almost cold toward Earl, probably because he viewed Catherine as a sister who needed to be protected. Earl figured if Dwayne was married to Starr—who was cute and wonderful—then he had to be good people, so he did not take it personally.

  Besides, he was there for Catherine. That was his focus, which she clearly appreciated. Many times during Sade’s one-of-a-kind show, he glanced over at her, almost as reassurance that he actually was there with her. When she put her hand on his leg, his entire body warmed up.

  As Sade performed sultry songs, one after another, Earl and Catherine hugged, held hands and generally looked like a true couple. And that’s how they felt, too. When Sade smoothly serenaded the crowd to “Soldier of Love,” Catherine looked up at Earl and asked, “Are you a soldier of love?”

  He responded: “I can be.” And they smiled at each other—one of many times throughout the concert.

  When it was over, they went to a restaurant in downtown Norfolk, Scottie Quixx, and shared barbeque wings and French fries, all the while further establishing a strong connection.

  “This has been the best first date,” Catherine said as they were leaving the restaurant. It was about one-thirty a.m. and she had to work the next day.

  “For me, too,” Earl said.

  She pulled up in front of the Sheraton and turned the car off. She was not going up to his room; she didn’t want to give the wrong impression. But she wanted to spend a little more time with Earl, even though they had much of the next day to be together. Not wanting to let him go only confirmed all the feelings that were developed before he arrived and strengthened through the night.

  “Think of You” by Ledisi played on the radio, which was a song they had discussed because the lyrics so matched how they felt about each other. Earl found it the proper time to lean over to kiss Catherine good night. A hug and kiss on her cheek turned into a peck on the lips and then a prolonged wet, tongue-in-mouth kiss that almost made them both lightheaded when their lips finally parted.

  Catherine thought to herself: I’m in trouble—he’s a good kisser.

  Earl thought: I’d better get out of this car right now. And so he did. “It was a beautiful day with you, Catherine,” he said. “You’re more wonderful than I even thought, and I already thought you were pretty wonderful.”

  Her shyness showed as she looked down while thanking him. “Well, I feel the same way about you,” she said. “You told me we were connected and I’m believing you more and more.”

  They talked about meeting the next day on the Norfolk State campus before he made his way out of her BMW and into the hotel. At the door, though, he looked back to get one more glimpse of her. They waved at each other and he watched her pull off. A feeling of wonderment overwhelmed Earl. He was falling in love.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  LET THE PARTIES BEGIN

  Jimmy, Carter and Barbara

  The day parties were the jumpoff point for homecoming weekend. The pep rally was cool, but it was more about the students still in school—and nostalgia. The day parties were for alums, and it was particularly a good idea because usually the afternoon was spent chilling until the events of the evening or in the bookstore purchasing school paraphernalia. Getting the party underway earlier made perfect sense, considering most of the people came back to socialize.

  Jimmy called his wife three times after he arrived in Norfolk, the last time just before he and Carter walked into The Mansion. She finally answered.

  “What do you want?” was her greeting to him.

  “Excuse me?” he said. “That’s how you answer the phone?”

  Monica did not respond.

  “Okay, well, I’m just letting you know I made it here okay,” he answered. “And I’m trying to see if you’ve calmed down some.”

  “I’m fine,” she said, with no emotion and obvious disdain.

  Jimmy took a deep breath. “Well, for what it’s worth, I love you and I hope you eventually understand why I’m here.”

  “Oh, I do understand why you’re there, James,” she said. Jimmy was alarmed; when she called him “James,” she was at her most angry.

  “What I don’t understand,” Monica added, “is why I’m not there.”

  “Yo, you coming in or what?” Carter yelled to Jimmy. Monica heard him.

  “Where are you? Some strip club or something?” she said.

  “Strip club? That’s what you think happens at Homecoming? Come on, now,” Jimmy said. “We’re going into an alumni event, a day party.”

  “Whatever, James,” she said.

  “Okay, well, I’ll talk to you later,” he said.

  “No, don’t call me. Why you calling me but don’t want me there?” she said. “Calling me does nothing for me.”

  Jimmy thought for a second about trying to assuage his wife’s feelings. Then it hit him: Why?

  “Okay,” he said. “See you Sunday.”

  Then he hung up and joined the huge crowd in the elegant venue.

  “You all right, man?” Carter asked. “You look like someone stole your wagon and didn’t give it back.”

  “What?” Jimmy said. Carter had a way of butchering clichés like few people. “Whatever. I’m good. Where’s the bar?”

  There, Carter ordered shots of Herradura tequila—he was a self-described “tequila snob” and was pleasantly surprised that the bar had his favorite brand. “Black people go crazy over Patron,” he said, handing the shot to Jimmy. “That’s like drinking cologne. Cheap cologne. Here. This is some good stuff. Smooth . . . Happy Homecoming.”

  They tapped glasses and Jimmy downed his without hesitation.

  “One more,” Jimmy said, pulling out a twenty-dollar bill. “Might as well get a buzz if I’m gonna drink.”

  “Order me a Cosmo for Barbara. She and Donna are on their way,” Carter said.

  Almost on cue, Barbara and Donna entered the spot. Carter waved to her to get their attention, which he did. On their way over, they stopped twice to engage old friends. Carter watched Barbara with admiration, like he was hypnotized. With heels, she was almost taller than Carter, who was five-foot-ten. But she made graceful strides in those five-inch heels, so much so that it almost looked as if she was gliding across the room.

  She had an innocent look and demeanor, which is why Jimmy had trouble believing Barbara was having an extramarital affair. It just did not fit her profile.

  “Hi, baby,” he said as he hugged her. The embrace was long and tight—unlike of one between casual friends who had not seen each other in a while. It was intimate, just as Carter had indicated about their relationship.

  Barbara’s wedding ring was ostentatious, a 2.7-carat emerald cut that sparked reflections like a disco light. She was married, all right. But as much as she tried to play coy, she was in love with Carter. The way she looked at him told that story.

  “Good to see you, Barbara,” Jimmy said. “It’s been a long time.”

  “I know,” she said after they hugged. “It’s great to see you. Looks like the decade has been good to you. I heard you’re married. Where’s your wife?”

  “Same place as your husband,” he said. Jimmy did not mean to be flippant with Barbara. But the two shots of tequila quickly made an impact. His tongue was a bit loose.

  Carter snapped his head around and glared at Jimmy. “I’m sorry,” Jimmy said. “I didn’t mean it the way it sounded. I was just trying to say what’s the point of bringing your spouse to Homecoming?”

  Barbara held an awkward look for a second and moved on by introducing Donna to the men. Carter handed Barbara the Cosmo.

  “We would have ordered a cocktail for you, but we weren’t sure what you’d like,” Jimmy said to Donna, who went to Old Dominion University, about fifteen minutes from Norfolk State. She was a commissioned officer in the Army, so
mething she had in common with Jimmy.

  Donna smiled a lot but said little, making her hard to read. She ordered a Cosmo, too, and stood by patiently as Jimmy, Carter and Barbara shared stories of their college days and greeted many other old friends they had not seen in some time.

  Finally, after about thirty minutes and another shot of tequila, Jimmy asked Donna to dance. The DJ was playing a head-bopping mixture of current hits and old tracks that had the dance floor pumping. But when he got to “Let Me Clear My Throat” by DJ Kool with Biz Markie and Doug E Fresh, Jimmy was ready to transform into Jimbo, the life of the party.

  “It’s pretty cool to be partying like this at three in the afternoon, isn’t it?” Jimmy said into Donna’s ear as they danced. Sweat was developing on his forehead.

  She smiled. “Why didn’t you bring your wife?”

  “If I did, I wouldn’t be able to dance with you,” he answered. And that was Jimbo—Jimbo liked to flirt. Even if he was with his wife and caught a buzz, he’d flirt with her. In this case, he was away for the weekend and decided it would not hurt to have some fun—as long as he did not cross the line.

  They left the dance floor smiling and returned to the bar area. More and more of their old friends emerged. Jimmy saw his old intramural basketball teammates, Bruce and Westbrook, and they reminisced about playing Spades all night and stealing bread, bologna and French fries late at night from the 7-Eleven near their apartment.

  “What about all the times we went to Pizza Hut at Military Circle,” Bruce started.

  “Oh, yeah,” Westbrook jumped in. “We put two dollars’ worth of gas in Jimmy’s car and that left us with about six dollars between us.”

  “Six dollars?” Donna said. “How could you eat off six dollars at Pizza Hut?”

  “Easy,” Jimmy explained. “What we did was this: We got a table and ordered a pitcher of beer, a salad and two large pizzas with sausage and pepperoni. So, the waitress gives us the bill. It’s about five or six times more than what we have.”

  “But we went in knowing that would be the case,” Bruce said. “That’s why we parked over by the main entrance to the mall and not in the Pizza Hut lot. So, we take the bill and ball it up. We leave about three dollars on the table as a tip to the waitress and then one-by-one walk right past the cash register where you pay and run to the car.”

  “Y’all were bold to go in there and eat like that when you didn’t have the money to pay for it,” Stephanie said.

  “We were tired of eating Steak-umms and fries,” Westbrook said. “When you’re young, dumb and hungry, you take those kind of chances.”

  “The sad part,” Jimmy said, “is that you still try to walk out of Pizza Hut without paying today, ten years later.”

  Everyone laughed and Jimmy felt as free and loose as he had since he was a college student. He envisioned Monica there telling him “don’t be mean” to his friends.

  His buzz was intensifying—and it was just about four thirty. But that did not stop him from leaving the group and heading to the bar. That’s how he was as Jimbo; he didn’t like the party to stop.

  Carter and Barbara slipped away, too. They had held it together for almost ninety minutes. They needed a few private moments. So, when Jimmy came back from the bar, Barbara checked with Donna to make sure she was okay, and she and Carter left The Mansion and went to his car in the parking lot.

  Without saying a word, Carter leaned over from the driver’s seat and initiated a long, passionate kiss that was so hot he had to turn on the air conditioner when their lips finally parted.

  Barbara wiped her face and took in a large amount of air. “Carter,” she said, “we have to talk.”

  That alarmed him. That was not Barbara’s way; she just said what she had to say. That was one of the qualities about her that he admired; she was decisive. Although morally he knew it ate at her that she was unfaithful to her husband, she made the tough decision to be involved with Carter and acted on it.

  “What’s wrong?” Carter said. He was trying to find a CD with soothing music but stopped his search.

  “I really wanted to come to Homecoming for two reasons,” she started. “One to see you. You know how I feel about you. I love you. I hate the situation I’m in—being in love with you while married to someone who really doesn’t deserve this. Most days I’m able to ignore the conflict and go on with my life. But I know that’s because I’m in California and you’re in New York.”

  “What are you saying, Barbara? That you want to stop communicating with me,” Carter said. “You think that’s going to miraculously make your marriage turn into what you want it to be?”

  “Carter, I wasn’t finished,” she said. Barbara sat up in the passenger seat, as if what she had to say was so important she needed to change her posture.

  “What I’m saying,” she went on, “is that what you and I have been doing for the last five years is wrong. My husband is a good man and if he ever found out, he would be devastated. My whole family would be. His whole family would be, too. He doesn’t deserve this.”

  Carter’s heart sank. He got what Barbara was getting at. He always worried about Barbara eventually not being able to continue with the adultery. She was not some hoochie who decided to fool around on her husband with her college boyfriend at homecoming. That’s what she did, but it was not that simple.

  She could not deny five years ago that the relationship they’d had at twenty years old actually was the best and most rewarding relationship she’d ever had. She felt alive with Carter. They enjoyed each other’s presence and challenged each other and brought a youthful joy that remained in their souls all this time later.

  They broke up because that’s what most young couples do after graduation. His career path took him to New York, hers to California. They tried to maintain their romance, but the distance was too vast to overcome. So, it faded and they eventually lost touch. Three years passed before they reconnected at the Best of Friends homecoming party five years ago at Lake Wright.

  Almost instantly, they realized the flame that had burned as college students had not extinguished. They danced and laughed and caught up on each other’s lives after three years of no communication. Both were married at the time and content—but not happy. And their reconnection that night was powerful.

  They sealed their night with a peck on the lips that turned into a long, sloppy, passionate kiss like the ones they used to share late at night in Carter’s 1973 Duster he would park in the lot in front of the Twin Towers. Their affair began then with once-a-year meetings at Homecoming.

  “I can’t believe I’m doing this,” Barbara said the next year, as they lay in bed at the Renaissance Hotel in Portsmouth, across the river from downtown Norfolk. “But the truth is that I never stopped loving you.”

  “Same here, baby,” Carter said back then. “I’m even jealous that you’re married with kids. That was supposed to be us.”

  “You’re married, too, and I don’t like it—even though I’m married,” she said. “This is crazy. This is not me. But . . . my heart is with you. It kills me to say that as someone who is married with a family. But I can’t lie to myself.”

  Carter’s marriage was more unsteady than Barbara’s. He did not have any children and his wife, a flight attendant, was attractive and smart. But she was not Barbara. They divorced after the third Homecoming rendezvous, when Carter’s guilt overcame him.

  He told Barbara, “I didn’t get divorced because of you. I got divorced because I love you. I thought it was too unfair to my wife that I had another woman on my mind in everything we did. It was the hardest thing I’ve ever done, but it was the right thing to do.”

  That act—and his reasoning—made Barbara love him even more. And it increased her guilt. So, in the car outside the day party, she was prepared to give Carter the news that would make his Homecoming weekend far more dramatic than he anticipated.

  “Carter,” Barbara said, “I left my husband three months ago. The marria
ge had to be not what I needed for me to be doing what I’ve been doing with you for five years. I know it was only once a year, but I broke my vows. Going back home after those homecomings was awful. It took me a week to get back to normal, to try to forget how I wronged my husband.”

  Carter did not hear anything after she said, “I left my husband . . . ” In that instant, he thought he was dreaming. He loved Barbara, yes. But he liked her married. It meant there was a limitation on how far they could go, how much time they could spend together, even how often they could talk. That was fine with him because he learned in his marriage that he was not the settling-down type.

  Her being divorced meant she would have more time to communicate with him, more time to see him, more time to infringe on his time. All that made him uneasy.

  “What?” Carter said. He tried to control his shock and dismay. “Are you serious?”

  “Yes,” she said. “I thought you would be happy, Carter. You said you didn’t get your divorce because of me. Well, I got mine because of you, because of us.”

  Carter’s head spun. He was conflicted. The reality of Barbara’s divorce struck him like lightning. While he did love her, he was especially attracted to Barbara because she was available only on a limited basis. Having her at homecoming was enough. Her being divorced meant her free time opened up, and he was not sure how to feel about that as it related to him and spending more than a Homecoming weekend with her.

  “I’m surprised,” he said. “We talked and exchanged e-mails a lot in the last three months. You never said anything. And you’re still wearing your wedding ring.”

  “Well, I didn’t want a bunch of questions from people this weekend, so I put it back on,” she explained. “But I received the divorce decree in August. It’s over.”

  Carter looked off, away from Barbara.

  “What’s wrong?” she asked. “Please don’t tell me you’re not happy.”