Pieces of Dreams

“So, what are you going to do”? Marva asked me later that day after I’d told her about Taylor’s ultimatum.

“I’m going. Just like I planned,” I answered, trying to sound resolute. I propped my hip on the edge of her desk and crossed my arms.

“And risk what you have with Taylor? Is that what I’m hearing?”

“Taylor will understand when he calms down. And if he doesn’t, maybe what we have isn’t all it’s cracked up to be if he can’t trust me.”

Marva let out a snide laugh. “If I remember correctly, it was you who said you didn’t trust yourself.”

I rolled my eyes. “That was yesterday. I wasn’t thinking clearly.”

“But you’re thinking clearly now?” She flashed me “that look” again.

“I can handle this, Marva. I need to handle this. And Ty’s just gonna have to give me the chance to do it.”

“Whatever you say, Maxine. And whatever it is you think you have to prove, I hope it’s worth it.”

I got up from her desk, crossed the room with plenty of attitude, and plopped down in my chair. “If I remember correctly, you were the one who said I needed to go.”

“Listen, Max—bottom line, no one can tell you anything one way or the other. Only you know what’s in your heart and mind, and what you’re up against. Yes, you do need to settle this thing between you and Quinn. Yes, he does need to be told about his son. The question becomes, are you willing to deal with the consequences?”

I bit down on my lip—a bad habit I have when I’m wrestling with a problem. I tossed around what Marva said, and replayed Taylor’s words of that morning. At some point I was going to have to come to terms with my feelings for Quinn, say all the things I never had the chance to say. And if not now, then when? But when I did, when I opened the door to the past, unlocked the secrets and spoke the words, nothing would be the same for any of us ever again.

I would be changed, and Quinn, Taylor, and Jamel. The fabric of our lives would become unraveled, and it would take everything that all of us had—what we shared—to put it together again. But what would the pattern of our lives really be? And could Taylor and I withstand the changes that my decision would evoke?

Taylor. I hadn’t heard from him all day. My calls to his office had gone unreturned. “He’s in conference,” was the first response. “He’s out of the office,” was next. “I left your messages,” was said with just a taste of, “You’re getting on my last nerve now,” underlying the receptionist’s voice. I had a good mind to call his partner CJ to find out where Taylor was, and what he was so involved in that he couldn’t, or wouldn’t, return my calls. I thought better of it. No point in getting CJ involved in our drama—although he probably knew, anyway.

Ty and CJ were thicker than the mob. The tie between them unbreakable. I knew CJ wasn’t too crazy about me in the beginning. He felt I was bringing nothing but trouble and heartache into Taylor’s life and had no problem about telling me so.

“Don’t mess with my man’s head,” he’d warned me as he carried a carton of Ty’s CDs into the town house the day Ty moved in with me. “He really digs you, Maxine. Ty’s a good brother, and I don’t want to see him hurt. Not by you. Not by anybody.”

His jaw clenched and I saw the muscles in his arms flex. His nut-brown face darkened ominously.

“I wouldn’t hurt Taylor. I wouldn’t,” I swore, staring into his unflinching eyes. And at that moment, I knew CJ would have no problem making me a vague memory if I messed with his boy.

“Hey, listen, it’s not about what you wouldn’t do, Maxine. You got a lot of baggage comin’ into this thing. Ty’s not just takin’ you on—but—”

He looked down at my rounded belly with an accusing look in his eyes. And all of a sudden I felt ashamed, almost guilty, and I wasn’t sure why. There was nothing for me to be ashamed of. This baby, my baby, was conceived in love. Not some one-night stand.

“…you know what I mean,” he was saying.

“Yeah, I know exactly what you mean, Calvin,” I snapped, ready for a throw-down. “But the bottom line is, this is between me and Taylor. You can have whatever opinion you want about me. That’s your business. But when it’s all said and done, it’s about us loving each other and making a life together. Now, you may not like me,” I said, getting on a serious roll. “I can’t worry about that. I’m not in this to win a popularity contest with you as the judge. The only person whose opinion matters, one way or the other, is Taylor. Period, End of story.”

We stared each other down for a minute, and then all of a sudden his expression softened and he tossed his head back and laughed.

“You know something, Maxine Sherman—you’re all right.”

He strolled into the house and the topic never came up again. Over the ensuing months, CJ and I actually became friends, close. We respected each other’s boundaries and accepted the fact that we both loved Taylor.

It was CJ who took me to the hospital when I went into labor, and held my hand until Taylor arrived on a red-eye flight from Chicago. He stood as Jamel’s godfather, and I bent his ear on many an occasion planning surprise parties for Ty’s birthdays, or crazy anniversary ideas I’d come up with. And it was me he came to all love-struck and tongue-tied when he wanted to ask his longtime girlfriend, Tracy, to marry him.

“What if she says no?” he lamented.

“CJ, what if she says yes, fool? You know she will. That’s what’s scaring you.”

He grinned and kissed me on the cheek. “That’s why I dig you, Max. You don’t pull any punches. So—you gonna come with me to pick out a ring, or what?”

Sure, I could call CJ, ask him what was going on with Taylor, but I didn’t think I could stand to hear what I knew would be accusation and disappointment in his voice.

Besides, if Taylor didn’t want to talk to me, if he didn’t want to listen and try to understand, then fine. And CJ certainly didn’t need to know about that—although he probably did, already.

But in the meantime, I still had to get the ball rolling. I was going to New York, to prove something to myself, to Taylor, and to Quinn, once and for all. And, however the pieces fell, I would deal with the consequences.

I made arrangements with Marva to take care of Jamel while I was gone, especially since I had no idea what Taylor’s plans were. I didn’t want to think about it. I left work early, picked up Jamel from day care and took him to Marva’s house. The possibility of Taylor walking out on us was a concept I didn’t want to imagine. Besides, if I gave into Taylor’s real wish for me not to go to New York, what would be next? What else would he not want me to do, and hold the threat of leaving me over my head if I went against him?

That idea took root, giving me the last ounce of determination I needed to do what must be done. Yeah, he had a lot of nerve.

But even as I put my key in the door of the house that Ty and I shared, all the bravado in the world couldn’t have prepared me for what I found.

TAYLOR

Chapter 3

The Bed You Make

The past two days were hell—it’s the only word to describe it, although I could probably think of something more graphic. The folks that worked for me were busy doing their computer thing all around me, but I wasn’t really seeing them.

I was just sitting there trying to figure out where things had gone wrong between me and Max.

I should have known this day was coming, sooner or later. I figured I’d be prepared, that’s all. But there was that part of me—maybe male ego, maybe plain stupidity—that made me think that Maxine and I had this perfect, incredible thing happening between us that would last forever. You know, like in the great American romances. Ha, what a joke. I guess she had other thoughts all along. That’s the thing that’s tearing me up inside. She was playing me.

Suddenly I felt as if I didn’t know her anymore, what she was about. That everything we’d been planning, handling, and dealing with on the day-today these past three years was all a crazy dream. It wasn’t real, not if it could crumble to pieces with one phone call—make her start lying and hiding things from me.

Naw, it isn’t right. I thought, this whole thing is wrong, and it seems there isn’t a damned thing I can do about it. So here I am, thirty-five years old, with my own business, a solid future, and it doesn’t mean a thing.

I looked up, and CJ was grinning down at me. “Hey, Man, you just going to stare at the computer screen all day, or what?” he asked me, punctuating his question with a slap on my back.

Calvin Jackson and I have been hard and fast running partners since sophomore year in high school. Man, the things we haven’t done together could fit on the head of a pin. He’s the closest thing to family I have.

“Just thinking, Man. That’s all.”

CJ pulled up a chair next to my desk and sat down. His brows knitted in concern.

“You look like a bad pot of grits, Man, all lumps and mush. I can give you a razor to get rid of that shadow, unless you’re going for a new look.”

I had to laugh. CJ came up with the most ridiculous visuals. “That bad, huh?”

“Yeah. That’s the watered down version. What’s happening? You been walking like a zombie for days. You’re not sick, are you?”