Authors: Raqiyah Mays
Man Curse (22 page)
Chapter 34
I
hadn't spoken to Carl in a week. He was off in Arizona at a leadership-building conference and I was back in Brooklyn, shaken. Nervous. Staying in the moment the best I could not to dwell on my fears of an impending breakup. I'd texted him a couple of times. He took hours to reply. And when he did, they were short. Cold.
Yes.
No.
Cool.
Busy.
I hated that. I hated texting. So I stopped what felt like that familiar old habit of chasing creeping back.
“Just give him some space, girl,” Meredith said one night. We sat at a sports bar, eating nachos, sipping margaritas, and watching the Knicks game. “Fall back. You know they always come back.”
“But what if he breaks up with me?”
“Then it's not meant to be. It's his loss. And if he breaks up with you over one thing, then he wasn't really feeling you to begin with. There are other fish in the sea, girl.” She smiled at the cutie behind the bar. “Trust.”
The Knicks were down by forty, mopping up the court with the same losing spirit I dragged off the stool to the ladies' room. Digging for my lipstick, I spotted my cell phone light flickering from the bottom of my purse. As I pulled it out, my smile stretched as I read my four favorite words of the week:
Missed call from Carl.
The minute I got home, coat still on, keys in hand, I dialed his number.
“Hey.”
“Hey.”
The silence lingered in that awkward, tense, one-word space for several seconds.
“So,” he began, “I heard your whack team lost again.”
“Listen, don't talk about my Knicks. They had a bad night.”
“They're having a bad decade.”
We laughed. We talked. I threw everything out on the table. My fears. My concerns. My apologies. My issues. “I'm scared. I'm terrified of messing up or being hurt,” I said, dancing around sharing “those three words.” He jumped in.
“I appreciate your honesty. I really appreciate you saying that, Meena. I mean, I'm scared too,” he said. “And I had a chance to do a lot of thinking this past week. And I missed you. All of you. Your quirks, your idiosyncrasies, your sexy walk and talk, those eyes, just you. I still have a crush on you, ever since the first time I saw you walk and trip into the lunchroom freshman year in high school.”
“When I fell and the milk splattered all over the principal,” I said, “and everybody went, âOoooh'?”
“Exactly.”
“That was the worst.”
“That was funny. But the point I'm making is, I only want you, Meena. Always have. Always will. I'm not going anywhere. I love you.”
Epilogue
The future. Thirty-six months, three weeks, one day, eighteen hours, and five minutes later . . .
I
sat on a Jamaican shore, holding up a wineglass reflecting the setting sun. A waiter approached.
“Ma'am,” he said with a patois accent, handing me a white square envelope. “This is for you.”
Inside was a card that read:
We manifest our words and thoughts. Thinking is the fuel. Speaking is the spark. Soul mate love is the fire that blazes from faith. Our tendency toward fear, habitual mental blocks, and hurdles are the walls we place between our heads and hearts that manifest into existence. Let's continue to conjure up a spell so powerful that it continues to block all negativity that attempts to taint our love. Let's be brave, face and kill the curse of doubt together, beating it into nonexistent oblivion. I will fight that and anything for you. I got you. By any means necessary. Because I love you forever, Mrs. Meena Fey Murphy.
So proud to be your new (your first and only and last) husband,
Carl
My finger sparkled with a glistening rock emitting bright light beams of hope, possibility, faith, and love. Thank you, Lord.
Acknowledgments
It takes a village to birth a book. Many thanks to those who read and loved it early on, like Courtney Patterson. You've been there for me unconditionally since high school. I am thankful and blessed to have your unwavering friendship.
Thank you and love to my brother, Marc Carmichael, for the texts and phone calls to see if I made my page count. And thank you to my sister, Jasmine Carmichael, who's been supporting this dream since hearing about it well over a decade ago.
To those who read
The Man Curse
in its early pre-edited drafts, like Stacy Gueraseva, thank you. I will never forget your professional novelist feedback and the emotions you expressed after reading it. To Eddie Harris, months before you read the novel, your gentle kick challenged me in a way that led to my book deal. And my experience with you while birthing this forced me to face fears and myself in ways which taught me lessons that have changed my life forever. Thank you for the kicks.
To Karen Hunter: You took a chance on me that led to manifesting a dream I've had since the fourth grade. Without you, there would be no book for the world to see. I'm eternally grateful. Thank you.
To Karen Hunter's book publishing class at Hunter College: you became my beta test group. Your feedback gave Meena and
The Man Curse
new life. And me a renewed confidence in my abilities as an author. I am truly appreciative for that experience. Thank you for the time.
To Simon & Schuster: I am so honored to be on your roster. It is a dream come true.
To Sara Camilli: Fate crossed our paths, thanks to the amazing Sabrina Lamb. But if you hadn't followed up with me, your e-mail would have been lost forever and we wouldn't be working together today. You're the perfect, nurturing, momlike, phantom agent that all nervous green authors need.
To John Paine: A good editor is so hard to find. But you polished me up. Thank you for helping me shine. Thank you for the encouragement and confidence in my talent as a writer.
To anyone who came on board after these acknowledgments were written: I got you. The world will know.
To anyone who has shown or sent love and support: Thank you. Every single word, referral, interview, write-up, repost, retweet, comment, like, or positive thought has helped make this dream come true. I couldn't have done this without you.
Thank you for all of this, Lord. I am truly blessed. Thank you for always answering my prayers. Without my faith in you, there is no me.
About the Author
Raqiyah Mays is a journalist, radio personality, and activist. Her byline has appeared everywhere from the Associated Press to
Vibe
,
Essence
,
Black Enterprise
, and
Ebony.com
. She contributed a chapter to Gil Robertson's anthology
Where Did Our Love Go: Love and Relationships in the African-American Community
and was a featured profile in Thembisa Mshaka's
Put Your Dreams First: Handle Your [Entertainment] Business
. She was also a reporter-at-large for Cheo Hodari Coker's
Unbelievable: The Life, Death, and Afterlife of The Notorious B.I.G
, which was later turned into the critically acclaimed feature film
Notorious.
As a New York radio personality on 107.5 WBLS, she was named one of VH1's “Future Leaders of Black History,” and was chosen by The Limited as a dynamic female leader for the retailer's Leading Ladies campaign.
You can learn more about her at
RaqiyahMays.wordpress.com
,
facebook.com/RaqiyahMays
, or on Twitter
@Raqiyahmays
.
FOR MORE ON THIS AUTHOR:
authors.simonandschuster.com/Raqiyah-Mays
MEET THE AUTHORS, WATCH VIDEOS AND MORE AT
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This book is a work of fiction. Any references to historical events, real people, or real places are used fictitiously. Other names, characters, places, and events are products of the author's imagination, and any resemblance to actual events or places or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
Copyright © 2015 by Raqiyah Mays
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ISBN 978-1-4767-9294-1