Part 10 (1/2)
”I was calling you. Why are all the lights on downstairs and n.o.body's down there?”
”I don't know.”
”What do you mean, you do know?”
”They were on when I came home.”
”Was your daddy here when you got home?”
”Yep,” Serenity said as she put the earplugs back in her ears.
”Take those things out,” Tia said. ”I'm talking to you.”
There was still a small amount of residual tension from the day before that loomed between them. Serenity removed the earplugs and turned down the volume on her purple iPod. She stared at the large h.e.l.lo Kitty poster nailed on the wall across from her bed.
”How was your day today?” Tia asked.
”It was all right.”
”Anything interesting happen?”
”Nope.”
Tia stood staring at her for a few seconds. ”Okay,” she said and turned to leave the bedroom.
”Oh, wait,” Serenity said, jumping off her bed. She grabbed the fas.h.i.+on magazine from her nightstand, nearly tripping over her own feet in the process.
Tia looked up at the ceiling and sighed. Would Serenity ever stop being so clumsy?
”There's gonna be a fas.h.i.+on show at the Brookridge Mall, and they're holding auditions for models in March. Can I go?”
”To the show?”
”No. To the audition.”
Tia stared at her in disbelief. ”The audition?”
”Yeah,” Serenity said defiantly.
Tia held out her hand. ”Let me see that magazine.”
”It's on page 32,” Serenity said, handing the magazine to her mother.
Tia remained standing as she looked at the page Serenity had dog-eared. She flipped through several pages before and after the article. ”You think you can really walk up and down that stage as . . .” Tia caught herself.
”I can do it,” Serenity said quickly.
Tia handed the magazine back to her. ”I don't know,” she said. ”After yesterday, I'm gonna have to think about it. You got any homework?”
”I'm getting ready to start it now. What's for dinner?”
Tia rubbed her right temple. Since your trifling daddy didn't cook nothing I guess I'll have to. ”Chicken and rice,” she said as she left the room and went downstairs to start dinner.
While Tia was pouring the rice into the pot of boiling water, her cell phone began ringing. She let it ring several times before finally deciding to answer it.
”h.e.l.lo, Scamp,” she said quietly. The guilty pleasure she'd indulged in with him a few nights earlier had continued to eat away at her conscience. And she'd been rejecting his calls all day.
”h.e.l.lo,” the deep voice said on the other end.
She moved the phone to her other ear. ”How are you?”
”A better question,” he said, ”is how are you?” He clicked on a picture of a female on the dating Web site he was viewing.
”I could be better,” she sighed.
He clicked on the many different poses the woman had posted online. ”I'm sorry to hear that,” he said.
An uncomfortable silence settled between them.
”How about we meet somewhere?” he said as he viewed the online woman in a bikini. His voice was husky. ”I'll give you another one of my ma.s.sages.”
She didn't answer. His offer of intimacy at a time when all she needed was emotional support irritated her. She could see where this thing-whatever is was-was headed, and the same insignificance she'd felt with Lorenzo who cared nothing about her physical needs, she began to feel with Scamp who was not interested in her emotional state of mind.
”Still there?” Scamp asked.
The sound of his voice was no longer mesmerizing to her. In an instant, it had become an unpleasant reminder of the mistake she'd made getting involved with him. She'd convinced herself that she had every right to harbor feelings for another man because of her husband's neglect. She'd adopted the mantra-what one man won't do, another one will. But deep down inside, she knew that was only her flesh speaking. It was not the way of the Savior.
It had become clear that her lover did not care about her. He wasn't interested in why she wished she could be better. He was only interested in one thing from her, and it was the one thing she would have freely given only to her husband. But for almost two years he'd wanted nothing to do with her, and even on those rare occasions when they did engage in intimacies, it had been obvious to her still that he was not very interested.
Even so, she couldn't justify her act of adultery by blaming her husband's lack of interest in her, and the fact that she kept trying to was confirmation that it-she-was wrong.
It was just like her grandmother used to say, ”If you got to keep convincing yourself that whatever you're doing is right, then you best believe it's wrong. Don't be blinded by your own sight, girl.” And what had Shari said to her in the coffee shop? ”Even the devil can masquerade as an angel of light . . .” Tia knew what she had to do, and she had to do it quickly.
”I have to go,” she said. She didn't wait for him to say good-bye before she disconnected the call. She went through her phonebook until she found his number. She pressed the option b.u.t.ton, then the edit b.u.t.ton and typed ”Do not answer” in the s.p.a.ce where his name would have gone.
She changed her mind and pulled up his number again, hesitating for only a second before deleting his number from her phone altogether.
Chapter Nineteen.
Homer clicked on the category of Females seeking Males, and began browsing through the ads, clicking only on the ones that included pictures. He let a few minutes pa.s.s before he called Tia again. He'd put her number on speed dial and continually hung up and pressed the same number pad each time her phone went directly to her voice mail.
The creaking of the hardwood floor startled Homer. He closed his laptop and turned to see his wife Sandra standing behind him.
”Who was that on the phone?” She stood rigidly with her arms hanging loosely by her side.