Welcome to The Soap Opera Series where over the course of the next several weeks I will feature one ofmy books in its entirety, a segment at at time, right here on my blog...for free! So stop by every Wednesday and Saturday beginning August 14, 2013 for new episode postings. Kicking the series off is my novel: A Little Hurt Ain't Never Hurt Nobody. Enjoy it!
A Little Hurt Ain't Never Hurt Nobody
Continued
Continued
“Cadelynn, don’t forget to that CJ gets out of school early today, so make sure you come straight home,” I yelled up the stairs as I rushed around the kitchen in search of my keys so I could get to work.
“Okay,” my daughter yelled back.
“And I’m taking out some ground beef so you can make some cheeseburgers this evening for dinner. I shouldn't be too late tonight.” There was a pause of no response. “Did you hear me?”
“Yes, mom.”
“Well next time acknowledge me,” I replied, keeping my cool. “And you make sure you behave yourself in school today.” I kissed CJ on his forehead as he gobbled a toaster pastry and an orange that I’d cut into quarters.
“I will mom,” he promised, hugging my neck tightly. “And you have a good day at work, and don’t let your employees get on your nerves.”
I had to laugh out loud as I tussled through his curly hair. “What do you know about employees?” I was going to start watching my conversations around this boy. “I’ll see you when I get home babe. Love you.”
“Love you too mom. Can I watch Power Rangers until it’s time for my bus?”
“No, watch Sesame Street and Clifford,” I said just before opening and closing the door that led to the garage.
With Cade gone, I avoided being at home as much as I could and spent almost every waking minute at my lingerie shop, Sweet Jream’s. The store had really been struggling for the last few years to stay out of the red, one of the reasons being the store had not really been inviting. In retrospect, with garments jumbled about on thin plastic hangers, or laying out on a table, I realized that it didn’t look much different that an Asian-ran beauty supply store. The very first thing I did was to have the store completely renovated and remodeled with the money Cade left behind in the form of insurance policies. Once I purchased the space next door and had the walls separating the two spaces knocked down, what had been 1,000 square feet of plain beige walls holding scantily clad plastic body forms dressed in bra and panties and other garments positioned here and there, simple partially rusted merchandise racks, and worn out, dirty beige commercial carpet featuring several spills, had been transformed into 5,000 square feet of rich luxurious shopping space, giving any woman an instant feeling of pampering when she set foot in the store.
I’d called in professional interior designers to decorate the store in a beautiful red, purple and gold Moroccan theme. Beaded chandeliers hung from the ceiling which had been painted a midnight blue and embellished with small sparkly rhinestones, created an incredible ambiance, whether day or night. The bland flat tables that either held display merchandise or hid boxes of back stock items had been replaced by hand painted, buffet style cabinets. And now, full size manikins stood about the store showing off their figures of various sizes and curves. Intimate settings of plush, comfortable chairs and sofas were cozily positioned in a few nooks. Thick, plush carpeting covered the floors, with patterned rugs protecting the heavy traffic areas, and customers were encouraged upon entrance to slip out of their shoes and into a pair of soft disposable Pedi-foam® slippers.
My favorite upgrade was a full king-sized bed featuring a handmade, hand painted Moroccan headboard enhanced with a mountain of pillows underneath a glittery gold netting that discouraged customers from laying on it in most cases, but really was the accent that brought the entire theme together and helped the store really look like its name. Sweet Jream’s now really did look like a dream . . . my dream.
After months of renovations, planning, marketing, creating flyers, sending out mailers, collecting email addresses and sending out teasers, sending out e-newsletters, and spying on my competitors, a grand re-opening was scheduled. I’d promoted Michetta and Shanice to Manager and Assistant Manager respectively, hired on a couple more sales associates, Grace, Tweet and Taylor, and implemented a dress code of all black, accented with gold, to give us a more polished and sophisticated image.
And in the snap of a finger, the success of Sweet Jream’s skyrocketed. That Saturday morning when the store opened I had never seen so many women crowd into my store in my life. From the time we turned back the lock at nine in the morning, there was an influx of women, some with their significant others, all oohing and aahing at the new decor and ready to spend their hard earned dollars. Most of our return customers didn't even notice or seem to mind the slight price increase, and we were kept very busy ringing up purchases, swiping credit cards, and thanking them for their business. That evening, after the doors closed, I tallied the money while the girls replenished the sales floor from the back stock inventory. In between, we had a mini celebration, clinking together plastic champagne glasses of Sprite and gobbling down delectable truffles and dark and white chocolate covered strawberries that I had catered in for the customers.
“Jream, you’ve really turned this place around!” Michetta spoke through a mouthful of white chocolate as she restocked a collection of thongs.
“Yes you did,” Shanice shouted over the whir of the vacuum cleaner. “The store is hot!”
“Thanks ladies. I couldn't have done it without your help though.”
We got the store prepped for the next days opening, gathered our things including the bank bag filled with cash for a night deposit, and left. “Thanks again! I appreciate you so much,” I said hugging both ladies before I finally sank into the seat of my car. As a general rule and for our safety, we’d wait until each person got safely in her vehicle and start her engine, then we’d all pull off together. Tonight, however, I waved them on, just needing a few minutes to rest and think through the day which had really exceeded my expectations. I let out and exhausted, yet exhilarating sigh, leaned back against the head rest and smiled. It was the first time I’d smiled in ages.
Even so, I had to go home, and that – I dreaded. After about fifteen minutes of just sitting, I finally drove off, stopped by the bank and started my journey to the one place that should have offered me comfort and rest, my home was filled with memories that only made me depressed or angry. As soon as I rounded the corner onto my cul-de-sac, a familiar fog of sadness hovered over me. I eased my car into the garage right beside Cade’s gold Infinity which I never drove, but promised it to Cadelynn once she got her license. My watch reflected it was now 9:30, so the kids were probably gone to bed, at least CJ anyway.
“I’m home,” I announced entering into the kitchen and dropping my keys on the counter. Neither of them responded. The smell of burned hamburger meat filled my nostrils drawing my attention to the stove that showcased a dirty frying pan surrounded by splattered of grease. A bag of potato chips lay open and scattered across the table, and two plates painted with ketchup sprinkled with bread crumbs and seasoning salt were still on the table. “What is so hard about cleaning up behind yourself,” I mumbled under my breath as I lifted the dishes, took them to the sink and rinsed them both in a spray of hot water. While I had the water running, I went on to clean up the mess Cadelynn had left in her dinner preparation. I couldn't complain too much, after all, she did make sure that they ate. Still I couldn’t help but to be a little frustrated. I finished the kitchen a half hour later then drug my weary bones upstairs, peeked in the kids’ rooms then drew myself a hot bath.
“Mmmm,” I moaned as I submerged myself into the water softened and scented by a handful of lavender and When You Need Me, a song meant for comfort, but only reminded me of how lonely I was. Ultimately, I knew Cade couldn’t really control how long he got to stay here, but God could, right? I mean, He was still at the helm of the universe, holding things together, making decisions, allowing things to happen, or blocking the hands of the enemy, wasn’t He?
chamomile bath salts. Will Downing’s rich mellow voice circulated the bathroom serenading me with soothing lyrics. My eyes fluttered closed enjoying peace for only a few minutes before Will started singing
chamomile bath salts. Will Downing’s rich mellow voice circulated the bathroom serenading me with soothing lyrics. My eyes fluttered closed enjoying peace for only a few minutes before Will started singing
“Why did you take Cade Lord?” I whispered. If I weren't so tired, I would have shouted it at Him since I wasn't really asking more than I was complaining. I stared through the skylight Cade had installed above the tub so that we could bathe in the moonlight. The stars had the nerve to be twinkling, as if God were winking at me. You play too much. I was scared to actually speak those words out of my mouth, although I knew my very thoughts were no secret to God. I was just tired of trying to figure out what kind of love He had for me to take something away that I loved. When I had posed that question to my Pastor, right after Cade’s death, he gave me some stupid answer about God shedding tears over the death of his Son killed by the hands of angry and jealous men. Where in the world did he get that interpretation from? I ain’t never read where God cried. Jesus mighta wept, but even then, He was crying because the people around Him were crying – not because he had a loved one snatched away.
“Pastor Blake, I need you to show me in the bible where it says God cried at Jesus’ death, or anywhere else for that matter, because I've never read it. Not only that, but Jesus said that no man could take His life, but He laid it down and could take it up again. So what reason would God have to cry when as soon as Jesus gave up the ghost, he was right up there with Him?” I felt my face getting hotter as I let tears stream from my eye sockets. “If I had the chance of seeing Cade again, I think I could hold back some of my tears.”
“And you can see him again, Sister. In the sweeeeet by and by,” he answered, throwing up one hand and looking towards heaven. “Glory to God!”
I narrowed my eyes into slits, angry at Pastor Blake’s insensitivity. He was going home to a pair of thick brown thighs in his bed, while I was going home to cold sheets on top of the same mattress Cade had died on a month before. “You have a nice day,” I snarled turning away from him abruptly.
“Let me at least pray for you ‘fore you go,” he called after me, but I kept a steady stride to my car where the kids were already waiting, hopped inside and screeched away.
That was the last time I’d been to church.
The first few Sundays, it felt weird not being in a place of worship, holding up my hands and singing psalms and hymns, but I made myself feel better by tuning my television to inspirational networks and watching broadcast after broadcast of Dr. Fredrick K. C. Price, Kenneth Copeland, Joyce Meyer, Creflo Dollar, Felton Hawkins, Joel Olsten, and Bishop T. D. Jakes. Now if I couldn't get the word from all of them put together, there was no word to be gotten! A few times when they’d try to get on me about ‘forsaking the assembly’ or in other words, attending church by TV instead of in person, it only took an instant for me to decide that I’d watched enough ministry for the day and turn the channel. But then it seemed that every Sunday, between the seven of them, one of them was always inviting me to an upcoming service. I got sick of that, so I stopped watching all together and started spending my Sunday’s prepping for my work week. Now with business booming, I was in the store every single Sunday. To increase my Sunday revenue and exposure, I’d implemented a Sunday Brunch corner, serving small croissants filled with various meats, cheeses, chicken or tuna salad, or just butter, along with a featured flavored coffee from Aromas, in exchange for them allowing me to place flyers and coupons in their store every week, and their commitment to give them to every paying customer. Even with a later opening and earlier closing, I was almost doing more volume on Sundays than I did on Saturdays, and even got requests from local book clubs in my area to host a few meetings there.
Oh yes! Sweet Jream’s was quickly evolving into the place to be on a Sunday, which reminded me of my full day coming in just a few short hours. Before I could think through the next day’s outlook, my thoughts were interrupted.
I love you enough to keep asking you to come to my house; to come visit me.
I turned my head away, trying not to listen. In doing so, my eyes fell upon a page torn from one of CJ’s coloring books. “What was doing in my bathroom?” I asked out loud determined not to hear God. “I’ma get that boy tomorrow; he know he doesn't have any business being in my room.” CJ had neatly stayed within the thick black lines that imaged Pepe’ LePew tightly holding on to, and planting kisses upon a female cat frantically trying to get away. My talking aloud to myself wasn't enough to silence God.
I love you just like that Jream. Even though you’re fighting, trying to get away from me, I love you enough to not let you go.
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