Wearing My Halo Tilted by Stephanie Perry Moore Read Free Book Online Page A

out into the hallway. “See this is what I’m talkin’ about. You talkin’ about going out on the road and you can’t even do your job here. There is nothing for me to put on. I’m really sick of this, Shari.”
    He went into our bedroom and pulled out three drawers and started throwing shirts on the floor. He was ticking me off because now he was messing all that up, as if I needed more work. He was showing me more and more that we couldn’t be in the same space right now.
    He was right. I wasn’t a tidy maid or anything. It wasn’t nasty, but it was cluttered and unorganized. Yeah, I needed to dust and clean, but with two young ones pulling on my arms and then trying to finish a book, I just couldn’t get any housework done.
    He needed to be me for a week, for a day, shoot for a couple of minutes! Then he could see I had it hard. All he had to do was sit around a boardroom most of the off season, drinking loads of coffee with boring white men, and strategizing about how they’d win a darn football game or two.
    â€œCan you buy me some more briefs? All my underwear got holes in them. I know we ain’t that piss-poor broke,” Dillon ranted with three badly torn pair in his hands.
    I knew he was madder about the fact that I was willing to go on the book tour than he was about not being able to find clothes, because as soon as I walked over to his underwear drawer I found three pairs that were wearable. They had little stains here and there that didn’t come out with the Clorox, but they certainly weren’t as bad as the other three he found that I needed to completely discard. Plus, the stains were his problem. He was just as bad as the girls. The joker needed to wipe better. Really, it was probably dirt from his workouts. And since I let the dirt sit for a while before I actually washed loads, when I got to it, most times, it was hard for the dirt to be lifted. Dang. I had to do better. Maybe a break would refresh us both.
    â€œI’m serious,” he said, as he took the three pairs from my hand. “You don’t need to do that play. I know I give you a hard time about not working and all. I’m sorry, because you do have a job. You got those girls and this is summertime, you know. Write another book from home. No matter what happens to my job, we’ll be alright.”
    Unwavering, I looked over at him, and said, “I don’t know if we’re gonna be alright and I’m really kind of tired of just settling. I’m gonna go on the tour.”
    â€œNo, you’re not!” he said in the harsh tone I hated, just knowing that I was gonna take his fussing.
    Whatever, I thought, as I looked at him with empathy. I was so fed up with the Negro before me that I could have cut him. Maybe I just had to show him with my actions. He wasn’t hearing my words. Yup. Someway, somehow, I was going to have to show him.
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    â€œHey, Shari,” Tina said to me through the receiver, after I dialed her number early-Saturday morning. “Tell me the good news, lady. You’re going on tour, right?”
    I actually had no idea what I was going to do. I just told her that I would call since she told me I had to. I certainly couldn’t let her down, but now she was putting the pressure on. She needed me to go on this trip and it wasn’t just for her benefit. I had benefits too. But my husband said no and in no uncertain terms meant no. What in the heck was I going to do?
    When I delayed in responding, she said, “I’ve been praying for you. And I can’t really say God has told me to tell you this or that, but I just feel led to say you need to finally make a commitment to you. If going on tour for the whole summer is too much to commit to, then we can try two weeks at a time. Neither party should care. I mean, the publishing company will still benefit from the books that you sell and they won’t have to pay