Chapter 15
Aneka
Caleb spent the beginningof the next week in Dallas. He asked if I wanted to join him, but I had a meeting with the mayor about a position in his office. I didn’t want to say anything until I knew for sure about the job, which I now did. Caleb would be thrilled for me.
Plus, I had put off a lot of work around the house. Cleaning kept me busy until a few hours before his brief expected return on Wednesday night. He’d be back one night before heading to New York for an event.
Everything needed dusting. Monday and Tuesday, I worked on the living room, formal dining room, and Dad’s office, then cleaned the bathrooms. Wednesday, I got up early to drive to Houston and retrieve more of my clothes. I made it back to Bliss by late afternoon and dove into my closet to clear space. Memories going back to elementary school sat in piled boxes. It was probably time to decide what to keep and what to pitch.
Sifting through my suitcase, I came across the slinky red bandage dress I bought on impulse after Elijah moved out. I told myself I was ready to date, but I wasn’t. The price tag still swung from the designer label. Turning to the full-length mirror in the corner, I held the dress up.
The view would have Caleb panting. He’d be back tonight, but the dress seemed too much for a night at the house. I’d have to convince him to take me somewhere hot red dress worthy. I hung it in the closet and returned to sorting the clothes, but my mind wandered back to Caleb.
Dating openly taught me an interesting lesson in small-town PR. The initial glares and whispers faded into looks of mild curiosity the more time we spent together. People knew us, and our new relationship lost its salacious appeal when everyone chatted about it over coffee at Bliss Bakery, in line at the grocery store, or while enjoying comfort food at the Lucky Duck.
My parents were getting used to the idea that I was staying in town—even if I knew Dad, in particular, was less happy that Caleb was part of the reason. They’d called yesterday. Dad couldn’t help hinting that I should go back to Houston and see after Elijah, and I hadn’t even told them about his health situation. They had heard about the split from Tyffani.
“I’m sure all of this has made him appreciate what he had with you. Real family,” Dad suggested.
“I’m sure it has,” I mused.
“He could probably use a friend,” he prompted.
“He has lots of friends. Elijah’s very social.”
Always helpful, Mom interrupted. “I’m looking forward to having you in town when we get back. We don’t get to spend enough time together these days.”
“When are you coming back?” I asked.
Mom answered. “September, like we said, but we might go back and forth this fall. A house near our friends went up for sale, and your father and I are thinking about buying it.”
“So you are moving?”
Dad put a stop to that idea right away. “No, no. We’ll split our time. I’m not moving overseas forever.”
“We wouldn’t spend the whole year down here, so we’ll keep our home base,” Mom added. “But I like traveling. There’s so much to do here, and the people are so friendly. It’s lovely. I’ll feel better about it with you there to look after the house.”
“Unless you have other plans.” Dad threw out the suggestion, and I took him in another direction.
“I do, but I’ll still be around. I might rent one of those new apartments downtown. The house is going to be a little small with all of us here,” I said.
Not so much small as too close for comfort. My parents’ return would make Caleb’s overnights or my dawn returns from his place too awkward for words.
“Of course, you would want your privacy,” Mom said. “How is Caleb?”
I swallowed a laugh. It figures she’d see right through my reasoning.
“He’s fine.”
Dad scoffed. “Unmarried folks don’t need privacy.”
I chose not to argue. “Let’s table this until you get back, okay?”
My father grumbled again, and Mom changed the subject so we could return to pleasant conversation before hanging up. Between the phone calls and going through my old things, I felt sixteen all over again.
Moving around some old boxes in the closet, a flash of hot pink caught my eye. I shoved one box over another inch, and a faux leather-bound diary bookmarked with a fuchsia satin ribbon fell to the floor. I flipped it open to the marked page, dated from early my senior year.
Memories of my teenage self flooded back, along with thoughts of my old high school prom date, Jimmy Witt, the son of one of the church deacons. I smiled, recalling the last time I’d seen Jimmy—or James, as he now preferred. He lived in Los Angeles. When I was there for a conference a few years ago, we met for drinks. James had recently married a guy he met at his accounting firm, and he was quasi-estranged from his parents, rarely visiting Texas.
The journal entry described a Saturday afternoon when Jimmy, Natalie, her then-boyfriend Lamar, and I drove to Longview for a movie. We’d told our parents we were seeing Babe and having dinner, but we snuck into a double feature of Showgirls and To Wong Foo, Thanks for Everything! Julie Newmar.
Jimmy couldn’t stop talking about how amazing Wesley Snipes looked in drag. We talked about how they dealt with being in that small town and how confident they were about making their own way. I’ve never seen Jimmy so enthusiastic. He really loved the movie.
I’d figured he and I both wanted adventure. Somehow, I missed several other clues when he and I dated.
Jimmy cheered when Patrick Swayze said, ‘Your approval is not needed,’ and Wesley Snipes said, ‘Approval neither desired nor required.’ I feel the same way. I want to be that bold without constantly trying to please my parents.
Thirty years and how far had I come? I laughed.
At the end of the entry, I wrote, “What do I want?” with “I” underlined four times. Looking at that question now, the answers came much easier.