Lisa Jackson - Finally, You And Me

“I’m glad I did,, too,” Alexa replied, pulling back. “Now go to sleep, blushing bride. We have lots to do in the morning.”

The minute Maya and Bryant agreed to renew their vows, one of the first people Maya called was her friend Margaret Cade. Margaret owned an exclusive boutique, where she sold her original creations. Her styles were so popular that her list of clients consisted of several high-profile community figures and celebrities.

Alexa’s eyes widened when Maya stepped from the dressing room in a champagne-hued, strapless silk gown with elbow-length satin gloves. The skirt was long and fitted with a twisted knot in the back that gave it a bustlelike appearance.

“Well, what do you think?” Maya asked, noticing Alexa’s awed expression in the three-way mirror.

“It looks great on you,” the salesclerk commented.

Alexa nodded in agreement, “Maya, that dress is tight.”

“It is!?” Maya cried out in horror. “It’s a size six. I hoped that I wouldn’t gain any weight.”

Alexa and the young salesclerk looked at each other and burst out laughing at Maya’s misunderstanding.

“I’m sorry,” she apologized through her laughter. “You have got to forgive my sister. She’s been out of the loop so long she kind of lost touch.” She didn’t want to explain that tight was slang for nice.

Maya still wore a look of confusion until Alexa assured her the dress was just fine. The ensemble was complete with an elegant rhinestone tiara and a pair of matching silk mules with a clear heel.

The bridesmaids’ attire turned out to be silk midnight-blue camisoles with matching floor-length, A-line skirts. Alexa thought they were beautiful and was grateful that her friend didn’t pick anything extravagant for her bridal party.

“You are going to knock Bryant off his feet!” Alexa announced as they exited the boutique.

“I am so nervous. Can you believe that after nine years of marriage, I have the nerve to be nervous?” Maya said as she laid both dresses across the back seat of the truck. She smoothed out the plastic so there were no folds to prevent wrinkling.

“Yes, I can,” Alexa replied, turning forward in her seat. However, her comment was for a different reason. The possibility of Alexa coming face-to-face with Darius for the first time after nine years made her nervous as ever.

“Could your anxiety be Darius-related?” Maya asked, eyeing her out of the corner of her eye as if she had been reading her mind.

Alexa’s silence answered the question.

“Alexa, I was wondering when you were going to get around to Darius being the best man at the wedding. I hope you are okay with it, considering.”

“You guys want him in the wedding, too. What can I say? It’s your wedding,” she replied, hoping that her tone and posture gave off an air of indifference.

“Now, now,” Maya soothingly replied. “I know that there’s animosity on both your parts, but maybe you two need to get it over with by facing your fears and talking it out.”

“What is there to talk about, Maya? Darius told me all that I needed to know years ago.”

Alexa had set aside her pride and reached out to him. Just thinking about that dreaded phone call made her wince. His words stung just as sharply today as they had then.

They had been apart for almost a year. She was settled in her job at Marks-St. Claire and was living in an apartment of her own.

It was a Saturday evening and Alexa was stretched out on her sofa sipping a wine cooler while flipping through the channels on the television.

Who would have guessed that she would be home on a Saturday evening? She loved to party, but since coming to Denver, she didn’t know where to go let alone who to go with. Although she had met some good people in Denver, no one could replace her friends back home.

As a result, she opted for a date with the television. Before settling in, she poured herself a glass of the fruity mixture.

She began flipping through the channels, not finding one thing that caught her attention for more than a few minutes. Suddenly, her eyes came to rest on the telephone. She wished she had someone to call. She entertained the idea of calling Maya, but she had just talked to her the night before. When they talked, Maya had asked if there was something wrong. Although she denied it, she knew that if she called Maya at that moment, she would surely suspect something. Besides, she and Bryant were out celebrating Maya’s new job as a beat reporter for the local television station. And if she knew her friends as well as she thought, celebrating would mean a highly charged romp in the sack.

With a sigh she picked up the telephone to call her mother, but then thought again and quickly slammed the phone down before her mother answered. Her mother had been acting quite strange. Alexa thought it was pre-menopause. Whatever it was, she couldn’t deal with her right then. Her brother Justin called one day talking about her going on this crocheting rampage having draped the beds, chairs, tabletops and toilets in every color imaginable.

Finally, her thoughts came to rest on Darius. She wondered if he had the same number. There had been many times when she wanted to call him and apologize, especially during those times when she felt lonely. When it seemed like the world was against her and all she wanted to do was press her face against his sturdy chest and cry. But there was no Darius at home waiting with open arms to lick her wounds. Besides, the shame of leaving him the way she did still hung over her head like a storm cloud.

Now after a year, she felt she could talk to him. Denver was okay. She had been right about Marks-St. Claire. Already she was promoted to editor’s position. She wanted to let him know that her decision was a good one and that leaving, though not in the manner in which she did, was the right thing to do and maybe, just maybe he would understand and forgive her.

So, she slowly dialed his number. The phone rang several times before the answering machine picked up.

“You’ve reached Darius.” His speech was strong and mature. She smiled at the sound of hearing his voice again. “I’m sorry, I can’t take your call—”

The greeting cut off with a screech, and suddenly a male voice cut through the message. “Hello!” Alexa’s heart began to thud rapidly. “Hold on while I turn off the machine.”

She was a bundle of nerves as her frozen hands trembled while trying to grasp onto the phone.

“Hello!” he repeated. He sounded somewhat cheerful, not somber, for which she was glad.

Alexa took a deep breath and lightly whispered, “Hey, stranger.”

“Who is this?” Darius asked slowly, his voice laced with suspicion.

“It’s me, Darius, Alexa.”

Silence hung between them like an iron curtain.

“What do you want?” he finally huffed after several minutes.

“Hey, is that any way to greet an old friend?” she teased, going for the lighthearted approach. Her heart was beating so rapidly, she wondered if he could hear it as well as the quick nervous breaths she tried to contain.

“Friend?” he threw back harshly. “I’d hardly call you a friend.”

“Darius,” she sighed. “I know how you must feel—”

“You don’t know a damn thing about how I feel!” he cut in. “Why are you calling me anyway?”

“I just wanted to tell you how I’m doing.”

Her heart sank when he began to laugh sarcastically. “Do you honestly think I care?”

“I hoped that we could talk.”

“Talk about what?”

Darius’s responses were so full of bile that it made her want to hang up in his face. She expected some kind of lashing, but thought he would at least be civil given the feelings they had once shared.