Eric and I arrived at the Sushi Boat
in downtown Fremont before Ron and Tia did. We sat
at a little table for four and held their places and
talked.
"Eric?"
"What?"
"You know that I do love you."
"Then why am I being punished?"
"You're not. It's uncomfortable for
me too. I miss you too, I just feel, no I know, that
we're doing the right thing."
Eric was silent. He looked so sad.
"Baby," I said, "I'm trying."
I felt sorry for him, but I wanted him
to understand me clearly. It felt good connecting
with God. God woke my dad up, He did it right there
with me in the room. And He was helping me to be a
better person too. I mean, I knew that I could probably
be a little high maintenance, maybe a little high
strung, but I was starting to feel more peace, and
I was really trying to be right.
"So the solution is to sacrifice my
needs for your promise," said Eric
"Well Babe, it's not like were going
to go without sex forever. It's just until we make
that next level of commitment."
I thought, maybe he'd catch a hint and
ask me something, but he didn't. Then he blew out
such sigh, that I thought his glass of water would
tip over.
He spoke very carefully, "Chantell.
We've already been through this. I know that you made
a promise to God, and that's a good thing. I am not
knocking that, but you are going to have to chill
out on the pressuring me thing. I mean, we've already
been having sex. Why we can?t keep doing what we've
been doing?"
"Eric we're supposed to be more connected."
"After two years I think that we are
about as connected as we're going to be."
"We can be more connected Eric-"
"Chantell" he interrupted, "just stop
allright?"
On the one hand, I thought Eric was
being selfish, on the other hand I understood. He
missed me and he wanted me.
I looked up. "Okay. Shh! Here they come.
Let's finish this later...Tia! Ron! Over here."
"Hi you guys!" Tia strode over in a
powder and navy blue pants suit that had been tailored
to fit her little waistline. Ron was right behind
her.
"Hi!" I said and gave them both a big
hug. "Hey how is it going," said Eric, standing and
shaking Ron's hand and hugging Tia before he sat back
down.
We ordered our drinks.
"Chantell, how is your father?" That
was Ron.
"Dad is hanging in there. He's a trooper.
On Friday they let him go home, and he was talking
about ordering more redwood for the deck out back
that he was building but we told him to slow his row."
Everyone chuckled. "Thanks for the flowers you guys."
"You're welcome," said Tia. At that table, we all
wore something that I think we were particularly proud
of that day. Tia's husband Ron, a 42-year-old real
estate developer originally from Naw?leans wore his
traditional smile. You heard it when he spoke almost
more than his drawl. And Eric, my handsome, 6 foot
2 inch, 27-year-old boyfriend, wore a new tattoo that
resembled a thick bolt of lighting that went all the
way around his big bicep. I, Chantell Meyers, a 28
year old newspaper executive, wore a black wraparound
dress that accented my small waist and ample hips.
My best friend Tia, a 31-year-old sistah friend, wore
a look of admiration, and love, that showed up whenever
Ron was anywhere in her sight.
Love. As a naive teenager, I used to
say that I'd rather meet my soul mate in my dreams
than to give my heart to anyone else. But by the time
I finished college, I'd determined that my prince
had pulled a no show. I decided that soul mates were
relative to your situation. For example, if you were
a big LA Lakers fan and you went to a game and were
attracted to another avid LA Lakers fan, and the two
of you decided that you were going to be together
and spend all of your free time going to games and
buying Lakers paraphernalia, then, voila! you were
soul mates.
That's why I kept my eyes open whenever
I frequented places like the Stoneridge Mall in Pleasanton.
I didn't meet Eric at Stoneridge Mall though, nope,
I met him at the outlets in Vacaville. He came up
to me and with those Eddie Bauer bags in hand, and
told me that I reminded him of a beautiful, exotic
butterfly. He said I moved with a grace that was only
matched by my beauty. I knew that it was love. I didn't
have to look anymore.
"Ay Chantell, tell them. Tell them how
looong I, I mean WE had to wait before we could get
in to see the movie the other day."
"Huh? It wasn't that long, only maybe
15 or 20 minutes." I said
"Sure it was. I had to wait, and wait,
and wait." Eric fixed me with a stare, and continued
sarcastically, "The line ahead of us was so long,
I just knew that the ticket sales were going to just
suddenly get CUT OFF."
I eyed Eric and he beamed with this
ridiculous smile.
"It was okay," I said. "We finally got
to see it." I looked at Eric and bit the side of my
lip.
"Yea, I guess," said Eric. "I just think
its wrong to make somebody wait, then cut them off."
He looked across the table and added, "Ron man, I
bet Tia never cut you off-"
"Stop it Eric. We saw the freakin MOVIE!
Okay?"
Eric's lips went into a bit of a smirk
but his eyes looked so serious.
Tia tried to save our lunchtime bonding
session before it turned sour. "Chantell, gurl, did
I tell you? I am lovin? that dress on you!"
She was such a peacemaker. I smiled.
"Why thank you darling," I teased with
a deep sexy tone, "you too look quite lovely as usual
yourself."
"So true. So true," she teased back.
We laughed like school girls.
The guys just shook their heads at our
silliness.
"So let me tell you how my father woke
up," I said.
Ron and Tia sat next to each other and
shared one cup of water while I talked.
"So then I was like crying and I was
calling out to God and asking Him to help. It was
strange because in some kind of way, while I was crying,
I knew he was going wake up."
"Wow." Tia nodded.
"God does do things like that," Ron
said.
"Yep and maybe God woke him up because
He needed to stop you from disturbing the other patients,"
said Eric with a smirk.
"Wrong. Whatever Eric, you're not funny."
I looked at Ron and Tia who sat close
together comfortably. I was always amazed because
I didn't think that they even consciously decided
to share the cup of water. They just automatically
sipped from one glass.
I was still trying to figure out what
"it" was that Ron and Tia had in common when the waitress
came over and took our order.
When the lady asked what we would like,
it was Ron's turn to get silly.
"Um yes, I'll have the avocado and shrimp
sushi roll, the and the salmon lunch special.... and
my wife here will have the Unagi Eel."
Tia, who was taking a sip of hot tea
suddenly, put her hand up, and tried to swallow her
drink quickly.
" Um, no, stop! Please excuse my husband.
He knows I don't eat eel."
Ron laughed, "Aw baby I thought you
were going to live dangerously today."
"Stop it Ronnie. I'm not foolin? with
no eels and you know it," she said while leaning over
and pecking him on the lips. Then she looked at the
waitress and said, "May I please have the chicken
teriyaki lunch instead?"
Ron just smiled. He was so funny. I
teased her often about Ron being her sugah daddy but
they had something great. I scooted over and got a
little closer to Eric. We had been together for over
two years and were headed into the village of soul
mates ourselves.
He always made sure he looked nice as
did I, so we shopped a lot, and traveled a lot, and
had lot of fun together.
We ate our food and chatted as tiny
fishing boats rode past the front counter, circling
the kitchen and chefs area in a tiny metal pond displaying
varieties of sushi. Orange ones, yellow ones, sushi
with crab legs sticking out, sushi wrapped in seaweed,
and sushi covered with rice.
Yep, I'd adapted my recipe for happiness
a couple times over the last five or ten years. The
latest version was a lot simpler, and it didn't really
involve a soul mate per se. It basically said, there
were three things that you should always keep. Keep
your man by your side, keep your game face on, and
if at all possible, keep a Coach bag in your hand.
If you were a person who could manage all three of
those things, then I'd bet that you were somewhere
having a nice life.
Yep Eric and I had some good times.
He was funny, and he had this really deep, sexy, voice.
We usually took advantage of all that the Bay Area
had to offer. Salsa dancing, roller blading, festivals,
concerts. We'd do whatever sounded good. He liked
to project a bit of a bad boy image, but basically,
he was a pussycat. He liked excitement. And although
I was happy when we began dating, I sometimes still
found myself feeling a little lonely. Sometimes I
questioned us. When I found myself doing that, I'd
remind myself to stop being silly and to look at what
I had. I mean, Eric was Boris Kodjoe fine. Eric was,
make-you -wanna-haul-off and-slap-somebody-fine! He
had a six pack that a lot of models on television
would envy, and he was always dressed to the nines.
People always said that I was beautiful
too. I don't think that I ever completely bought into
it though. I didn't necessarily think that I was bad
looking; I got hit on often. I was 5 feet 8 inches,
curvy, and 140 pounds. I had brown skin, the color
of caramel, and blunt cut shoulder length hair that
Tia normally took great care of for me. I was experimenting
with it then though, and had taken to washing & conditioning
and just letting the air lock in the body, and natural
texture. I had curious eyes that slanted, and pouty
lips, and a little mole above my right brow that every
boyfriend that I've ever had had found irresistible.
However, of all of the people in my
lifetime, that had said to me, 'wow that's a great
mole' , or 'I wish I had a little mole on my face'?
I never forgot a comment from my childhood made by
the little boy next door. Little Timmy, said it looked
'jus? like a booger on yo head'. Oh, I laugh now,
and I punched him in the stomach then, but that's
the kind of thing that one doesn't easily forget.
So, it wasn't so much that I thought
I was unattractive. No, no, I used what people saw
when they looked at me, when I needed to. It was just
that, well, I had a good mind. And I worked hard to
show people that I was smart. But lots of times folks
weren't interested in that.
My mole, my eyes, my looks, they came
from my real mother. I didn't know her though because
she died when I was five years old. She had Sickle
Cell, and she lost so much weight that I thought she
was melting. A strange thing about that however is
that when she died, I started to cry, and Dad told
me not to. He'd hug me and say, "don't cry princess,
everything will be okay." So, I'd wipe my eyes and
try to smile. Every time the tears started to fill
my eyes, Dad would get really anxious, and he'd try
to tell me jokes, or take me to a movie, and he'd
tell me to 'just try not to think about it'. I didn't
like to see my dad act so strange, so I learned to
stop crying. It had been twenty-three years, and I'd
never cried another day over my mother.
I suppose, I got my theories on soulmate-ism
from them. I remember once, my dad told me that he
married my real mother because from the moment they
first conversed, she tugged at his soul. I wasn't
sure what tugging at your soul felt like, but I'd
guess that Eric and I did that, sometimes. Tia herself,
said that we looked like black models from a Gap commercial.
And that's important. You should look happy and vibrant.
People treat you better when they think you have money,
or are beautiful. They want to be your friend. Besides
that, if you keep up the front, then people never
really know how bad you feel.
Dad always said I was a princess, and
I believed him. In a way I still did. A princess was
attractive, and single, and she had beautiful clothes.
Yeah, I tried to fill the bill, but I didn't like
it when people called me snooty or stuck up. I just
wanted to put my best foot forward so people saw me
in a positive light. Just because you want to look
presentable, that didn't make you "a piece of work".
Just because you didn't go around showing everybody
your pain, that didn't mean that you don't have any.
People should know that.
But hey, if they couldn't understand
that, too bad. I wasn't going go to around with my
hair undone, waving a white flag and looking like
I had trials in my life, cuz it wasn't nobody's business.
With me, everyone got the same story: The life of
Chantell Meyers was fantastic!
"So, are you guys going to the big game
this year?" That was Ron.
"For sho," said Eric, "I went down to
the Berkeley ticket office last Friday. You guys?"
"Definitely. Ron's client brought him
over some great Stanford seats," said Tia.
I knew that my real mother went to Stanford.
That perhaps, should have been something that I was
proud of, but that was deep in my past. After you
ignored something for so long, the desire to speak
about it just subsides. I kept eating.
I'd always been private that way. I
had my share of bills, and despite the way things
may have appeared, and they were hard to juggle by
myself. I was getting older and my biological clock
was ticking. But I figured, once Eric and I got married,
things would fall in to place.
I took another sip from my glass and
looked over at my beau. The water was refreshing.
Eric had let his goatee grow a little
thicker than normal. He talked to Ron about the junker
car that he was restoring.
"...and I'm going to get two racing
stripes painted down the doors before I take it down
to the track." The ice hit the bottom of my empty
cup as I set it back on the table.
"Oh, yeah. That's going to be nice!"
said Ron.
"Yeah, it should be. I named her Margarita."
He looked over at me. "Chantell's jealous. She doesn't
like me spending all of my spare time going to parts
yards looking for parts for Margarita. But trust me,
when she's all finished and looking beautiful," he
pointed at me, "she'll want a key." He chuckled.
I laughed too, because I probably would
want a key. Not because I was into race cars or anything,
but because he was ready to share with me. I really
liked him though he sometimes was a little inconsiderate,
like when he turned off his phone and my dad was sick.
He was out at the Pick and Pull under the hood of
a car, with his phone off, at the time. I was so mad
at him, but, hey, it was just happenstance, and I
was trying to be about peace. I smiled at him while
he talked. Eric Summit was a keeper, and I was in
it for the long haul.
The back of my throat was a little dry
and the waitress hadn't been back around yet, so I
picked up Eric's glass and put it to my mouth. But
before the water could roll down and reach my lips,
Eric said, "Hey! What are you doing? That's not your
cup."
