Necessary Conversations

I had seen Dexter more in the last week than I had in the last year.

“Maybe I’m just not shooting high enough,” Dex started.

I had on some chocolate Bruno Magli oxfords I hadn’t worn in years. They pinched a bit. We were in my office. I had my feet up. Dex was leaned back, his head resting on the chair’s back.

“Wha?”

“I mean…look. I keep having issues with mediocre women. “

“Do tell?”

“They overweight. Or they got esteem issues. Or they ain’t the most physically attractive. Or they aren’t educated. Perhaps they are flat chested. I mean, I’m having a whole string of bad luck with women that frankly, people look at me and say, Man, I just didn’t picture you with…her.”

“Nobody’s perfect Dex. We all got faults. Hell. I lost fifteen pounds so far and got more to go.”

Dexter sat up straight, his face twisted.

“No! THAT’S the problem with us, man. Look, JD, this whole ‘grown man I’m easy I’m logical let’s just be mature and understanding’…well, I’ve done that all of my life, and get a bunch of heartache and headache from everyday women…I got boys who are big as us put together and couldn’t spell ‘class’ if you told ‘em it rhymes with ‘ass’ and look…look at what they get? Look at how little bull they deal with from the type of women that models envy! Not these excuse females…”

“Excuse women?”

“Yeah. She’s cute but she round…she just ok looking but she well endowed…she a great package but she a hoe…”

“Hey…watch your language in my office, man.”

“Sorry. I am angry because this is my reality. Look at us, man. Are you happy with this? This life? How much education you got? Ten years ago you made five times what you do now. You were happier being alone than you have been over the course of twelve years a marriage and a couple of relationships that ended on bad notes. Be real: you were more or less left alone by women you atone time would never have even considered being with. People who put way less into it than we do are getting a much better return on investment.”

I looked at my friend. Something was wrong. Something was beyond wrong. This was bigger than material for humor with Brenda, or even for light hearted reflection later. This was not just someone hurting over a failed relationship. He was hurting, and articulating his hurt, in the rawest terms he could because. My friend is a good guy, and life had shown him it could be as unfair in adulthood as it was in the fourth grade. There was something else, but I could not put my finger on it. Circumstances were putting him in an unenviable position: continue being the fairly decent guy that he was and keep getting hurt, or become something he reviled but never be in pain.

“Life is not perfect,” I started slowly. “We have to play the cards we are dealt, man. I ain’t mad at nobody. I have played a hell of a hand. Sometimes you are up, sometimes you bust. What matters is how you kept your head high through it all. There is nothing I have had that, if it is important, I won’t have again. There is no one with whom I have dealt that I regret loving. Period. When I was with them, even during the bad times, they were not the women you describe, but the women I wanted. No model could have turned my head because in my opinion, I had the baddest thing the runways could imagine. Regardless of what was said or how things ended, the level of intensity I brought to the table and the level of reciprocation I experienced made it clear there was happiness, if a lack of understanding, all the way around. I have learned that money is not everything, and I will have it one day again. Sooner than I realize.

“You are a good man. Dexter, you have made some mistakes, and you have flaws like everyone else. The only blame I could put on you can be shared with many decent folk: you are attracted to people who have a lot of needs based on their own screwy pasts and the equally screwy decisions of their present. You have an overwhelming desire to love people that present themselves as unloved. You cannot keep trying to save people whose histories indicate they want themselves in situations requiring they be saved time and again as a means of validating their womanhood, or their need to be wanted. Brotha, you gotta stop choosing women who are just happy to be somebody’s somebody. I head to learn that. You can learn that. And it will be so much more valuable a lesson than only dating women half our age, or becoming some callous fool you’re not, or just losing faith in what this wonderful world has to offer.”

Tears were running down my buddy’s face. I got up and gently closed my office door behind me, giving him his time.

When I pulled into my driveway, something felt odd. I looked around, opened my trunk, and commented to myself how dropping a few pounds made things a bit looser around the back of my waistband. I cautiously walked through the front door, noticing that I didn’t hear my dogs barking. That was strange as well. I went through the door quickly with one hand on the knob, my right hand occupied and more slack in my waist band than a moment before.

No noise. I heard thumping upstairs, in my bedroom. I had a thought: for reasons connected to threats on my place of business, local law enforcement were quite familiar with me and the property‘s owners. Contacting them, however, would require some explaining of other things, namely the weight in my right hand, or might eventually make me look like the kid crying wolf. I eased upstairs. Things felt different, but not bad.

My dogs were in my bedroom, all three of them. They were rolling around and quietly playing with a smallish brown woman who was feeding them treats. My hand hung to my side.

“May I help you?”

“Hey Baby. Good day today.”

I slid my right hand in my pocket.

“Um…”

A sudden sense of peace washed over me, and the dogs obediently went to a corner and began napping, without a word from either of the two people in the room.

Well, one person. The deity that resembled Diahann Carroll walked over and gave me a big hug. All of the air rushed out of my body.

“You were Judy Pace last time…”

“I am who I want to be. We went through that. You are all in my image, so actually, ya’ll look like me, not the other way around.”

My right pants pocket was no longer heavy.

“I do detest those things,” she sighed. “And you know better. There is a lot of trouble for the lender and you as the borrower. I’ve sent it back where it belongs. You have so much work to do and you run around thinking you are playing cowboys and Indians.” She sighed again, smiled, and motioned towards the bed. She wore no jewelry, and her sleeves floated with her arm movements. “Sit!”

If people saw God every day, they’d be a heck of a lot more obedient and nowhere near as rebellious over silliness.

“Did I…call you? I’m doing pretty good after our last, um, face to face.”

She grinned. “I just wanted to stop by and tell you I love you. To remind you things are already better. To spend a bit of time with you. And to congratulate you on having such a good day.”

“It was just another day at the office.”

“Sometimes, I work through you, and have you do things I need. We talked about that.”

“Sure.”

“Thank you.”

“Why?”

“Someone in your life was on the verge of making a very hard decision. I will not control you all. If you’ve read that man Young’s novel, you understand that. But I do try to offer you the best advice so you can make an informed decision.”

“God?”

“Yes, Honey.”

“I don’t understand.”

She threw up her hands in mock protest. “Oy, vey! He doesn’t understand! If they could all get that one through their heads…That they know so little” Dihann Carroll now had Fran Drescher’s stage voice.

“You helped someone today who was going to make a major decision in the near future.”

It took a minute. “Dex? He’ll be alright. Yeah, he was only going to date…well, you know. Would have been a waste of a good guy.”

She looked up at me. “It would have been a waste of a soul,” she said cryptically.

Suddenly, I understood.

“Oh.” I said softly.

“You went through something a while back. I know what you were feeling, I know what you wanted. There are things that I know you will never imagine. While you have done an excellent job of not dwelling and staying busy, you have not truly seen the blessing in your circumstance.”

That was a sore spot.

“You have spent time missing what you are not getting, while not reveling in the blessings you are giving. No, the blank look so is not you,” she grinned again. She grinned a lot. It felt good.

“If you look at the lives you have blessed, if you consider the time you have made available to be there for others in your life that have been in need since the beginning of the year, you will understand what I am saying. You have been there for someone that cannot fend for himself, someone who could not believe in herself, and someone who no longer wanted to be himself. Literally. What you feel has been your own carnal loss has been the spiritual gain of others, including yourself. I am proud of you. I always love you. But I am terribly proud of you.”

I felt like a child who the teacher just gave a gold star. My face was wet, too.

“God?”

“Yes, James David?”

“If we make our own decisions, why is my pocket lighter than it was?”

“Because down deep, that was what you wanted.”

“And how do I, um? I mean, what if, well…”

She stood, smiled, tilted her head back, and opened her mouth.

“Anytime you feel danger or fear, instantly, I will appear…”

It must have been the look on my face.

“What?” she beamed.

“It’s…Diahann Carroll’s body and face and Chaka Khan’s voice…was that a choir I heard in the background? That’s weird when you do that. How…”

She beamed again. “Oh, we sing all day long where I live. Choirs on standby. Who am I, Baby? If you think that’s good, you should read the story about what I did once in seven days…”

I grinned. “I read that one.”

“I love all of y’all, but I have a real special feeling for those of you blessed with the ability to put pen to paper. Some pretty good stories about me. I have less affinity for editors. They’ll leave whole thirds out of a good book of instruction and inspiration. Oh well.” She hiked up her sleeve. There wasn’t a watch there before. Was it?

“Oops, I gotta go Lovey,” she came over, hugged me, and I felt as alive as a newborn. “I have an appointment in an hour.”

“But…”

“Yes?”

“You’re God…”

She wagged her finger. “I still believe in punctuality. Timeliness is one of the most considerate things one can be.”

“Stop time until you get there.”

“Still believe in rules. And consideration. Bye Hon!”

Dihann Carroll had the smoothest walk ever. Was she walking? Yes. I heard a giggle. "Stop! I'm old enough to be your mother...well, I guess I'm everyone's mother!" More giggling.

I could here the steps her heels made. And my head was filled with Chakha Khan, in stereo.

I heard God’s heels on my steps, and then I heard nothing at all.