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“Whatever,” Adrienne said dismissively. She didn’t have any more time to talk about Cooper. “Charlene, I’ve got to unpack some boxes before Mel gets back. Can I call you later?”
“Why didn’t he stay to help you?”
Adrienne hesitated. “I passed a store a few weeks ago, and there were some real cute baby outfits in the window. I bought four of them and . . . well . . . Mel wouldn’t understand if he knew, so I sent him away.”
“Aw, honey,” Charlene said gently.
Adrienne could feel Charlene’s pity, and it made her uncomfortable. She wished she could tell Charlene how she really felt, but she didn’t want to talk about it. She didn’t need anybody feeling sorry for her, not even Charlene or Dan. She’d wallowed in self-pity long enough, and Adrienne was determined to move on. She promised to call soon, then got off the phone.
She slit the tape on the first box and wished that she and Mel could have hot, steamy sex like they used to. She wished they were once again trusting and easy with each other. She had not slept with anyone else during their separation, even though a few men had tried to date her. She’d never even been tempted. Adrienne had been too preoccupied with her grief to care about dating.
Had her celibacy been a mistake? Had she dried up and lost her womanhood? How long would Mel stay in a sexless marriage?
Her mind churned with these and other disturbing thoughts as she continued to open the boxes.
By 5:00 P.M., Adrienne had unpacked all the boxes and put everything away. Exhausted, she lay across the new bed and fell asleep, wondering why it was taking her husband so long to buy a television set. The ringing of the telephone woke her up.
“Hi, Adrienne. How you doin’?”
Adrienne sat up and rubbed the sleep out of her eyes. It was pitch-black outside. “Fine, Debra. And you?”
“I just wanted you to know that Mel is here so you don’t get worried or nothin’.”
“What time is it?” Adrienne asked, annoyed.
“Goin’ on ten.”
“Ten!” Adrienne shouted. “Put Mel on the phone, please.”
“I can’t. He’s passed out drunk in the back room,” Debra said flatly.
Adrienne took a deep breath to push back the anger that was starting to bubble inside her stomach. Why didn’t Debra tell her that in the first place? “What did he do with the TV?”
“I dunno what you talkin’ about.”
“Debra, he left the apartment at noon to go buy us a TV set.”
“Well, he didn’t do it. Mel got here around twelve-thirty and he’s been here ever since.”
“What?”
“You heard me right.”
“Don’t you and your damned friends do anything up there but drink?”
Adrienne heard a hissing sound from her sister-in-law’s lips. “Lissen here, heffah. It’s none a yore business what goes on in my house. I didn’t drag Mel up here. In fact, I’d appreciate it if you come and get yore drunk-ass husband up outa here.”
Adrienne jerked her chin up. “Fine. I will.”
She slammed the phone down before Debra could reply.
It took a long time for the bus to show up, and then it seemed to crawl up Amsterdam Avenue. Adrienne reached Debra’s house almost an hour after the phone call.
Debra opened the door and glared at her without saying a word.
“Good evening,” Adrienne said coolly. As crazy as she was, Adrienne knew Mel loved his sister, and she didn’t want to make things worse by standing there arguing with her.
Debra stomped off into the kitchen as Adrienne went to the back bedroom. Mel was sprawled on his back, his eyes tightly closed. She shook his arm, but he didn’t move. Debra came in carrying a pitcher of water. Without missing a beat, she threw half of it in Mel’s face. He didn’t move. She threw more water. He sputtered and flailed about. Then she punched him in the chest. “Git yore ass up!”
