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"You excited to head back home?" Angela asked Idris, as the two of them were inside their suite, doing last minute packing just before they were to take off.
She had been positioning all of her makeup in it's respective storage.
The man lifted his eyes from the suitcase he placed his own belongings in, and looked over at his wife. "Even though I should be, I don't think that I am."
Angela grew of concern, taking a pause to what she was doing. "Really? Why is that?" She moved closer to her husband's presence.
He shrugged his shoulders, moving them up and down. "Going back home means having to deal with this trial and all that it comes with. I'm not ready for that."
Placing her left arm around Idris's back for comfort, Angela replied with, "You know, I may not understand what you're feeling right now, but you know I am here if you wanna talk about it." She motioned within herself.
The man waved his wife off, continuing to fill his suitcase with his possessions. "For what? There ain't nothing to talk about."
"Well when you put it that way," Angela eyed him with pupils of seriousness, her hands fell upon both her hips. "We really haven't talked about it at all. Why is that, Idris?" Her words were true. She really hadn't known if her husband was innocent or not. Whenever Angela tried to bring up the allegations against him, he'd always cut the conversation short.
Idris breathed heavily, closing his luggage. "Look, after what those doctors told you about your health, I don't want to spend my time talking about no trial. I want to spend every second with you." He then pointed towards his wife.
"Okay and I get that," she replied, watching as the man moved his luggage toward the front of the suite. "But I'm not just talking about the trial. We have never talked about what happened, y'know? With you and those girls, Idris."
"Nothing happened," he shot back. "And you know that. Where is all of this coming from?" A sudden curiosity covered his body. He didn't understand why his wife felt as though there was some conversation that needed to be had.
"But...I don't know. Because you've never told me." Angela moved her head from side to side, disagreeing with what Idris had mouthed. "You said you didn't hurt them and as your wife, it's my job to believe you. So that's what I've done. I've taken your word for it." She then signaled in his direction, feeling her heart race rapidly. "Something just doesn't feel right about any of this, Idris..."
"So what are you saying?!" The husband eyed his wife sideways, his voice becoming louder. "You don't believe me no more?"
Shrugging her shoulders, Angela felt torn. She wanted to believe her man, to stand by him. He had never been accused of anything even remotely close to sexual assault.
"I don't know. I just...I really don't know." She loved her husband, there was no denying that. But if he was guilty, what kind of woman would she be to stand by a man who she knew abused young girls?
"And I'll tell you one damn thing, I'm not going to continue on not knowing. I will leave right now and that'll just be that. So whatever happened, you need to tell me. Right now."
Realizing his wife was serious and meant every word released from her mouth, Idris understood that now was the time he had better come clean. "Listen...I...sometimes I may have...looked at them a certain way. I...may have flirted a little...but Angie...I never touched those girls. Ever."
Now while this couple took a break from packing as they very clearly needed to talk about something so serious, Whitney and Bobby were in their own suite, packing as well.
Seated on a provided sofa, Whitney covered all of her heels in plastic bags to keep them protected. Bobby had been tying a navy colored du-rag around his head, but stopped when a knocking formed at their suite's door.
"Oh, that's probably Mariah," Whitney said, motioning for her husband to answer the door. "I told her she could ride back with us since Blair's ass is nowhere to be found."
"Yep, it's Mariah," Bobby said, after walking to the door and looking through the peephole. He then opened it, allowing the other woman in.
"Hey, Bobby," Mariah greeted him, waving. She was dressed in an oversized dress while what was left of her hair had been covered in a headscarf. "Hey, Nippy. I see you ain't done packing yet," Mariah then spoke to Whitney, placing her own suitcase upon the nearing wall.
Rising from the sofa, Whitney turned to her friend and said, "Girl! Ceily, what hell you doing in here?" She smiled, placing her right hand upon her right hip.
"Ceily?" Mariah was confused, eyeing the other woman sideways. "Whitney what are you talking—"
But before she could continue her question, Whitney cut her off, turning back to Bobby. "Now Bobby, I thought you said Mariah was at the door, not Ceily."
The other woman shook her head, moving closer to the sofa. "Nippy, what the hell is your problem? You know it's me, Mariah."
"Aw girl," Whitney placed the palm of her left hand upon her forehead, laughing a bit. "Looking how you looking I thought Ceily from Color Purple rolled up in here."
Instantly, Mariah looked at her own body, scrutinizing just the clothing she had worn.
"Would you stop it? What's wrong with how I look?"
"You look like a damn slave is what's wrong with how you look," the other woman replied, incessantly laughing. She found it quite humorous that her friend hadn't been dressed up like usually. "Now why is you dressed like that?"
Mariah rolled her eyes, waving Whitney off. "Well I think I look good. Ain't nothing wrong with what I'm wearing." She viewed her clothing once more.
Whitney shook her head from side to side, in disbelief. "Whew, Chile. Ever since you told Blair to gon' bout his business you been looking real bad." She sat back upon the sofa to finish applying her shoes to plastic bags. "Just tore up, Chile. Tore up from the floor up."
"Oh, Nippy, leave me alone." The other friend waved her off for a second time. "You know I'm going through it." She too took a seat upon the sofa.
"And hell, I'll be glad when you get through it." Whitney looked over at her friend. "You all packed up and ready to go?"
"You know I am," Mariah smiled, closing her eyes. "I can't wait to get home."
"You know, I been thinking," Whitney held up her index finger, seriousness holding onto her face. "Maybe you should come spend a few nights with us. Ain't no telling where Blair is and I don't want you being in that big ole house by yourself." She was genuinely concerned for the safety of her friend. Just because Blair wasn't around now did not mean he wouldn't come around again.
Disagreeing, the friend responded with, "Oh girl please, I'll be fine. I love you and I appreciate the offer, but I'm not worried." She pointed at her herself. "I am done with Blair, okay? I'm not gon' cry about it no more, it's over. Besides, I should've left his ass a long time ago."
"Well alrighty now," Whitney moved her head up and down, hoping Mariah's words were truthful. "Preach, Mary J. Blige."
While these two continued to chat as Whitney finished her packing, Janet and Toni were outside loading their vehicles.
The two hadn't spoke and had no clue as to when they probably would. It wasn't because they didn't want to, but because they were both stubborn. They listened to their minds when they should've trusted their hearts.
Walking past Janet to get to her and Shemar's car, Toni glanced over at the woman then quickly looked away. She wished things hadn't turned out the way they did, but she felt all she could do was move forward.
Truthfully she loved Janet, but she didn't want to continue hurting her husband.
Seeing Toni walk back past her, Janet rolled her eyes. She knew that this was unlike them. They had never gone days without speaking, even if they had had some sort of disagreement. They always worked through it.
"Toni?" She called out to the other woman, just before she could get away. When Toni stopped and eyed her, she continued on with, "You know, one day I was sitting with my mother...while she was eating a bag of hot Cheetos. Now that part may not be as relevant but you know my mother loves her some hot Cheetos."
Toni laughed a bit, moving her head in a fashion that showed she agreed. "Yes she does, she really does. The big bag to be exact." She then held out her hands, gesturing the size of Mother's preferred chip bag.
"Anyways," Janet goes on. "We were talking about being in love and Mother told me that when God sends you just the person he wants you to be with, you'll know." She then paused, allowing the memory of the conversation to reside within her mind. "Mother licked that Cheeto dust off her finger and said, you'll know because this person will love you like nobody else has. She said it'd be almost unexplainable..."
Toni positioned her pupils to the ground beneath them, hearing the woman's words settle in her ears. "What are you trying to get at Janet?"
"Remembering what Mother said made me think back to you and I," Janet stepped closer to the other woman, motioning between the two of them. "I just...I don't get what's going on between us. But I do know that you're the person I'm supposed to be with. You've always been. Since we were younger." Tears formed within her eyelids. "I apologize for vowing to marry Boris when it should've been you."
Toni wanted to respond, but she didn't know how. Frankly, she was stunned. To her, those words seemed to have been the words she had always wished to hear from Janet.
Walking towards the two women, Shemar comes over to tell Toni that all of their bags and luggage had been loaded into the car, and that they could get going as they needed to hit the road.
"You know what, Shemar," Toni finally spoke, after needing a moment. "Just um...just take my stuff with you...to the house and...and I'll get there when I can." Her body released heavy breaths.
Janet stood back confused, wondering why the woman had told her husband that.
Shemar too had been confused, not understanding. "Why would I do that, Toni?" He looked at her with a face full of curiosity.
Looking at him closely, Toni replied with, "Shemar I am so sorry for how I've hurt you. Lord knows I never meant to." She held her hands in a rather surrendering position. "But I am not the woman for you, okay? I belong with someone else, with Janet. And if I can't leave here with her, then I won't leave here at all."
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A|N:
thoughts?
-not edited