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"Ronnie, love, I guess we did all of this for nothing," I told her, feeling hurt and ashamed, and it showed in my voice. I looked longingly out of the sliding glass doors to the intimately decorated backyard and Jacuzzi area of my two-story Victorian lakeside home, positioned on some of the most prime real estate in Pine Mountains. Ronnie and I had spent hours shopping and preparing the backyard earlier that day. I thanked God for her, because most of the decorations came at her suggestion. The sight was a bit too much for me to digest at that moment, so I turned back around and looked at my gorgeous kitchen to try to get some relief.
Immediately, unwanted memories of my fifth wedding anniversary rushed upon me. Last year, the week before my anniversary, Ronnie and I took a vacation in Maui – just us girls. Upon returning home, I was pleasantly surprised to walk into my house and be welcomed by Titus holding a blindfold.
My husband held me tightly around the waist and led me into my new completely renovated kitchen. Everything was redone with French style décor, including the best stainless steel appliances.
Not believing that this luxurious kitchen could possibly be mine, I walked around turning on the oven and other gadgets. I was so filled with joy that my soft and sentimental butt cried for the next hour as I tested out my new appliances.
Titus knew that I loved to make my way around the kitchen, so the fact that he upgraded it with nothing but the best was the gift of the decade. Needless to say, we had a happy and passion-filled fifth anniversary.
What a difference a year makes.
Jarring me out of my trip down memory lane were Rhonda’s firm words. “Girl, what is the deal? You do know the man is a heavy weight in these streets and is always making major moves, right?”
Before I could answer, she continued, “You do also know he has to be out there to keep things popping like they are? So, don’t stress it when he has to be out there getting money. Shit, I wish I had a nigga like that. It’s either him making the money so that he can bring it home to you, or it can be the next bitch that gets it, because you know he ain’t about to stop making money! He’s probably just handling some business and couldn’t get to you right away, so stop this flipping out every other day.”
Rhonda loudly popped the bubble gum in her mouth, and asked her familiar, yet irritating, question, “Don't you like living on Society Shores?”
"I do, but that doesn't change the fact that I need him to behave like a husband, and treat me like I’m his wife. The way he has me up here, and how he only comes to visit every now and then is more like I’m his mistress.”
And whose side are you on? I thought, but then again, was I asking for too much? Was Rhonda right? I knew in my heart of hearts that I could be a spoiled brat when I wanted to be, but was it asking for too much to get some quality time once a week from my husband?
Dare I even say, I needed some good loving every once in a while? I longed to share a few laughs, dreams, and ideas with the man I loved. I needed him to talk to me about current events for at least thirty minutes per day, even if by phone.
As a woman with emotional, mental, and physical needs, it was a necessity that I reconnect with my husband, and soon. Either that connection had to be established, or he had to set me free. I sure as hell didn’t get married to be lonely, so to hell with a house in Society Shores!
This time I wasn’t taking Ronnie’s advice, nor was I going to ‘get it how I lived’ as my girl, Gladys, had suggested. It was time to push the envelope and let him know how I was to be treated going forward. Or I would get it how I lived another way – without him.
Taking a look around at my worldly possessions, I said in all sincerity, “All bullshit aside, Ronnie, I would give all of this up in a heartbeat if I could have him here with me right now, as caring and loving as he used to be. I’m ready to start a family, engage in long late night conversations about everything and nothing at all, spend hours staring into his eyes for no reason except that I love the glow that lives within them, and go on family trips and vacations. Sometimes when I’m alone in this big house, I can just imagine the little pitter patter of baby feet. I wish…"
I paused, unable to say the words that would cut through my ego like a knife. Glancing at the ceiling, I attempted to ward off more tears.
At that moment, I cursed the fact that I could be so sensitive and needy. What I wouldn’t give to be a hardcore chick that could not only survive, but thrive, in this environment.
"Okay! Okay!” Ronnie broke the awkward silence. “I wasn’t supposed to tell you, but maybe, just maybe, he’s stuck in Atlanta traffic. He went there today to pick up a gift that he had special ordered for you. You know how he likes to spoil you with extravagant gifts? Well, right now he is out picking you up something in Atlanta. Dang, you feel better?”
My heart lurched with relief. Praise God! As a smile crept slowly across my lips and my eyes grew wide with the realization that I had been wrong all along, I paused. Why would Rhonda let me go through an hour of anguish on the phone when she knew all along where my husband was?
Convincing me by the second of my husband’s faithfulness, Rhonda continued, “After all, it is your finger he put the ring on. So why don’t you just try to trust him?”
Still feeling a bit uneasy, I twirled my hair and sluggishly paced the floor.
"Really, he’s in Atlanta buying me a gift?”
“Girl, yeah, Sistah Word.”
Sistah Word was a saying we had for a statement that was the truth. In other words, what she was saying was one hundred percent.
“I know you were trying to keep the surprise, but you could have saved me a lot of grief by spoiling that one, girl. How could you allow me to wallow around whining on the phone for the last hour when you knew that my husband was out picking up a gift?! I’m beginning to think you enjoy my torment.”
Despite my unease, I had to admit that my mood brightened a bit at the mere thought that Titus was doing something special for me. Smiling, I blew my nose into the big wad of tissue I had been carrying around with me. Through a stuffy nose, I said, “You're right, though, he does spoil me, and of all the women he had to choose from, he did make me Mrs. Wilson.”
I remembered him proposing to me the day I walked across the stage to get my college diploma from Auburn University. When the dean called my name to come up and receive my well-deserved master’s degree in psychology, Titus called my name on a bullhorn. As everyone searched the audience for the source of his voice, along with me, each of his homeboys held up a fluorescent letter that spelled out the words, “MARRY ME SHAYLA”.
After reading the words, our eyes locked, and he stood there on the sidelines with the biggest, cutest grin on his handsome brown face. In his hand he held a black velvet box. All I could think about was running to him. With my heart full and my head swirling, I took the degree papers from the dean and ran over to hug the man I would be spending the rest of my life with. Once I reached him, I said, “Yes… yes… yes! I will marry you if you promise to always love, honor and respect me.”
You see, Daddy’s lessons were still embedded in me, then. I felt like the most special woman in the world when Titus looked into my eyes and said, “Woman, how could I not respect you for your beauty, intelligence, and elevating me to heights no other woman could? I love you, Shayla.” Not only had I received the first college degree in my family, but I had someone special to share my dreams with. He wrapped his arms around me and the warmth of his kiss embraced me.