by Cydney Rax
“And you young folks are big on Facebook. Putting all your personal information online is never a good thing. It’s very easy for a pervert to copy and paste all your info and set up another profile to perpetrate someone. What you want to do is remove opportunity for someone to harm you or steal your identity.”
“Hmm, that’s something to think about,” I remark to myself.
“Another thing,” Floyd says. “Make sure and keep your shades drawn. You’d be surprised at how people can see through your windows at night.”
“Aww, snap,” Alita says aloud.
“Ooh, looks like you’re remembering a time when you forgot to close the shades, huh?” I tease, holding a side conversation with my friend.
“Girl, sometimes Big Hen does that shit on purpose. I think he gets off knowing that people can possibly be watching us. You know he sleeps with no underwear.”
“Yuck, spare me.”
“You know Rachel, it’s been too long since you’ve had some. I can just tell. We need to help you get a man ASAP.”
“Ladies, can you please stop the side conversations and pay attention? You should be taking notes on some of these risk reduction strategies.”
“Yes, sir,” Alita says and picks up an ink pen and starts writing. She scribbles notes then passes them to me.
I read her beautiful, neat handwriting. Her letters are big and wide, which tells me that she’s filled with confidence. “Have you thought about online dating?”
I pick up my pencil and scribble back, “Hell no!!!!!”
She laughs, writes again. “Just try it one time, and I’ll never bother you about it again.”
I scratch out the first part of her sentence and a few other words so that the sentence now reads, “never bother you again.” I make a silly face, cross out the word “you” and write down “me.”
She picks up the paper and bursts out laughing so loud that everyone turns and gives us annoyed looks.
“Okay, ladies,” Floyd states. “I think it’s time we took a ten-minute break. And after that, let’s be ready to practice some moves.”
Alita and I race to the ladies’ room since there’s only one available stall.
“Okay, Hardly Berry, what were you talking about some online dating for?”
“I believe it would be good for you to get back out there, date around, and allow some gorgeous chocolate hunk help renew your self-esteem.”
“I think my self-esteem is intact.”
“Not that you should totally depend on a guy to make yourself feel good.” I hear her laugh while she’s sitting in the stall. “That’s what Big Hen says he likes about me. He knows if he were to tell me something derogatory about myself, it wouldn’t bother me one bit because I think more of myself than anyone else does.”
“A woman who has confidence is considered sexy. I know, I know,” I say wistfully Maybe she’s right about mustering up the nerve to date around. If I take a risk instead of playing it safe, who knows what kind of man I could meet.
Alita emerges from the stall to splash water on her hands and hold them under the eco-friendly dryer. I enter the empty stall and continue talking to her. “Well, I don’t know much about online dating. But it sounds kind of risky. What if I meet an insane person?”
“You don’t have to go online to meet crazy people, believe me. Remember Stanley Hudson, my ex who I caught wearing my underwear one night? Man, I couldn’t get rid of him fast enough. And from the outside he looked so straitlaced.”
“Humph, he liked lace, all right,” I say, and we laugh together. I wash and dry my hands, and we slothfully walk down the hallway so we can delay our return to class.
“London is a pro at online dating,” Alita tells me.
“Oh yeah?” I say. London is Alita’s twenty-one-year-old cousin. She’s so attractive she could easily work as a fashion model. She constantly smiles, is all big-hair, and has blemish-free skin and a sleek body that exudes sex appeal. Round tits, curvy hips, London struts around like she knows she has it going on. She’s the type of girl that all the guys want to date, but they’d be too intimidated by her because they’d assume she already has a man.
Alita and I stop by the vending machine. I insert a dollar fifteen worth of change and wait for my ice-cold strawberry soda to come flying out.
“Alita, I am no London by any stretch of the imagination.”
“Girl, what are you talking about? You don’t have to be drop-dead gorgeous to get attention from men on the Net. All you gotta do is breathe.”
“Scary,” I say, and my mood turns serious. “I would want to meet someone who shares the same interests as me, you know. Someone who has some standards, to make sure we’re compatible, all that.”
“Are you saying you’ll consider going online to find your dream situation?”
“You make it sound so good, so tempting, but I want to think about it first. I have a final unresolved issue with Mr. W.”
“Unbelievable that you’d still take time to deal with him. But who am I to rush someone else’s heart? All I’m saying is when your heart is ready for change, you’ll know it.”
Alita and I return to class. Floyd has everyone stand in a circle. We prepare ourselves by first doing a series of stretches; then we proceed to practice some new moves. Learning how to block, to breathe, to kick someone on the shins, and to gouge eyeballs. And toward the end of the session he begins talking about Tasers. He informs us that even policemen get tasered so they can learn the effects, and how much it hurts to have electricity run through your body.
“I was reluctant to get tasered, but I had to go through it, face the unknown, in order to effectively do my job. Suffice it to say, the fact that I am standing before you today lets you know how strong my body is.”
We laugh and shake our heads.
“But at the time,” Floyd continues, “being tasered wasn’t funny. A big man like me was rolling on the ground. Screaming. Wanting to call my mother. Not a pretty sight.”
We go through a few more moves that we’ve repeated a hundred times before, and then class ends.
“Hey Alita, why don’t you follow me over to my place? I want to fix us some grilled chicken tacos. The meat has been marinating in the refrigerator since last night.”
“Sounds like a plan. I’m right behind you, girl.”
I hop in and start my car, and she follows me to the apartment. We get out of our vehicles and quietly enter the front door.
I’m so busy chatting with Alita that at first I don’t notice him. He’s standing in the dining room. All the lights are on in the living area. Marlene is sitting at the table, her flabby arm raised up. Jeff is examining her bare arm.
“That’s tight,” he says as he raises her arm and smiles.
“Hey,” I say, “what’s going on in here?” I haven’t seen or talked to Jeff since that day in Waffle House. Jeff whips his head around and jumps back from Marlene. He looks surprised, which is insulting. He ought to figure that I’d eventually run into him again one day.
“Hey, Sis.” Marlene beams and stands up. “What’s up, Alita?”
“That’s what we’re trying to find out,” I say.
“Oh, we’re just getting ready to do something really cool. At first I was skeptical”—Marlene laughs—“but Jeff has a way of convincing me to do things I may not want to do at first.” She clears her throat. They lock eyes and smile, as if sharing a private joke.
“What’s so funny?” Alita smiles, although I know it’s her fake but genuine-looking grin. “We want to laugh, too.”
Jeff opens his mouth to answer, but Marlene butts in. “It’s private.”
I shrug like it’s no biggie. “Cool. We’re just about to make ourselves something to eat. Ya’ll hungry?”
Marlene looks at me oddly, like she’s surprised I am not ranting and raving.
“Hey, Alita, clear the table. Make room for four,” I tell her. She responds by removing old newspapers that are neatly piled in a s
tack on the dining room table.
Jeff, looking startled, says, “Let me help you with that, Alita.”
I head for the kitchen and get busy. I remove the chicken meat from the fridge. I whip out my George Foreman Grill and get the flour tortillas, veggies, lettuce, and picante sauce. Soon the kitchen is filled with delicious aroma.
“Damn, Rachel. I haven’t eaten those in a long time.”
I simply smile at Jeff’s comment and continue cooking. Alita sets the table. Marlene just sits and mopes. Jeff comes and stands next to me.
“Need any help?”
“Nope. I’m good.”
“You sure? I’m a man who doesn’t mind cooking.”
“Well, I’m making this food for everyone’s enjoyment, just something I feel like doing … and”—I smile wickedly—“you caught me at a good time.”
“Um, yeah, I guess I’m lucky.”
“You know what? You really are lucky.”
Alita locks eyes with me.
Jeff says, “What do you mean by that?”
“Oh nothing. Just talking. Don’t pay me any attention.”
Jeff moves in closer. His elbow touches my rib.
“Oops, sorry. Accident.”
“Jeff, I know our kitchen is tiny, but you really need to move over … a couple feet actually. I don’t need anyone up under me while I’m trying to cook.”
“Ha, you hear her say ‘trying’ to cook.” Marlene laughs and hops up. She grabs Jeff closely by the arm. “C’mon, we don’t have to stay for this. We have business to take care of.”
“No, Marlene. We have time. I’m starving.”
“I’ll feed you, babe.” She laughs again and looks at me, then tugs at Jeff’s arm even tighter and tilts her head so she’s looking up at him. He removes his arm from her grip and yells, “Watch that meat, it’s burning.”
“Oh, someone get me another spatula, hurry.”
Jeff jumps back and opens a utensil drawer, hands me a spatula.
“Ouch,” I say.
“What’s wrong? Grease hit you?”
I nod and grimace.
“Go sit down. I got this,” Jeff commands. He takes over and finishes grilling the chicken slices. I take a seat and let Alita hold an ice cube to my stinging arm, which was splattered with oil.
Marlene just sits back, shakes her head, probably thinking this was all planned.
Jeff turns off the grill and starts filling the tortillas with meat, veggies, and sauce. He serves Marlene first, then me, Alita, and himself.
Alita does a good job making my arm feel better. I revel in the fact that my thoughts are clear, my emotions appear under control.
“I can’t believe we’re all here, eating, acting civilized,” I say to no one in particular. We’re all seated at the dining room table. Jeff and Marlene are next to each other, Jeff directly across from me. He bites into his food and glances at me every few seconds. I feel weak under his constant gaze, but I keep trying to stuff my mouth with food as a distraction.
“You like?” Jeff asks Marlene but peers steadily at me.
“Yeah, it’s yummy.”
Jeff’s cell starts to ring. He glances at the number and hops up so fast that he knocks his chair over. He answers the phone, “Hello,” really loud and leaves the apartment to go talk.
“Must be important,” Marlene says, as though she needs to speak up on his behalf.
“Must be,” Alita says.
“Why are you doing this?” Marlene hisses. She hasn’t eaten at all and has spent the last few minutes shoving her food around her plate with a fork. “What are you trying to do? Make him see what he’s missing? Because he’s not missing you anymore. He told me—.”
“Marlene. Enough. Really. I could not care less about that man.”
“For real? I’m going to tell him you said that—.”
“That’s not necessary. But if you feel that it is, go on and tell him. But more importantly believe me, I don’t care what you do. You can have him. So to answer your question, that’s what I’m trying to do. It’s called not giving a damn.” I abruptly rise from the table, not hungry anymore. I nod, look at her. “Yep. I’m going to rise above this.”
She sits there looking stunned.
“Invite me to the wedding,” I tell her, and feel a sudden urge to go outside. My head is spinning, making me feel like I want to faint. I need to inhale some fresh air. A little bit of smoke is still lingering in the kitchen. So I say, “BRB,” real loud and slip outside the front door onto our balcony. Jeff is pacing back and forth, one hand shoved in his pocket, totally involved in his conversation. But when he looks up and notices me, he ends his call and practically runs to me.
“How’s your arm? You okay, Rach?”
“You haven’t called me that in months … sounds strange now.”
“Hey I really am sorry about everything. I know you must be hurt.”
“Not hurt. Fine actually,” and I mean it. “Never been better.”
“You can’t be serious. You were just pissed at everything not too long ago.”
“Things change. Things change fast sometimes,” I explain to him. I can see in his eyes that he’s confused, maybe even hurt. Perhaps the hurt that I once felt has been transferred to him. Affecting his mind, shattering his emotions. The funny thing is I really don’t care what he says. If he can lie and say he’s accidentally carrying my ring on him, the most important piece of jewelry he’s ever bought in his life, then I am pretty much done with the guy. No one would believe what he told Marlene about the ring. It’s not something trivial, like absentmindedly stashing a dollar bill in his pocket.
“I don’t know if things change that fast.”
“Well, Jeff, I can’t speak for everyone else, but sometimes a little light goes off in a person’s head. They get an epiphany, things become clear, and they get what they need to move forward with life.”
“Oh, so you’re saying you’re over me? You don’t love me anymore … don’t want me … just like that?”
“Excuse me, Jeff, but I think your future wife is trying to get your attention. You hear her calling you? Better go see what she wants now or else she may not give you any pussy tonight.”
“That’s so disgusting. I am not even trying to go there—.”
“Jeff, she’s already told me, okay? I smelled what you used to give me on her body weeks ago. You can lie to Marlene, but I’m not her. I’m not,” I say a little more loudly than I wish. I do not want Marlene to think we are fighting over her. I’m too exhausted to go round for round with this girl. I just hope she knows what she’s doing. Because now I’ve figured out a lot of things that I want to do.
I head back inside, ignoring Marlene’s hostile stare as I pass through the front door to return to the kitchen. It’s a mess. Messiness makes me feel antsy. And I use my new surge of energy to make the kitchen look more presentable, wiping off counters, putting away leftovers, and sweeping the floor.
Jeff comes in the apartment soon afterward. Marlene returns a few seconds behind him.
“Need some help?” Jeff offers.
“She’s fine, Jeff, are you ready to go now?”
“Um, sure, Marlene. But don’t forget, before we go, you should clean up, if you know what I mean.”
“Okay.” She giggles and sneaks a look at me. “I am going to hop in the shower real quick. Count to three hundred and I’ll be ready. Wait until you hear the shower come on, okay?”
“Fine,” Jeff says. She races from the kitchen.
“Hmm,” Alita suddenly says, “I gotta get something out of my car. Be right back.” She nods at me.
And Jeff and I are alone in the front area of the apartment, a place where we used to share so much happiness. I remember how he chased me around the place one time, trying to spray me with a water gun that my little cousin forgot and left over here. I screamed and dashed for the bathroom, walk-in closet, anywhere, so I could escape him. But he caught up with me, sprayed me playfully
, then threw me on the carpet. He got on top of me and started kissing me with such passion that our clothes soon were peeled from our bodies. We did some foreplay then made love on the living room floor. I got aroused wondering if Marlene was about to walk through the door. Jeff kissed and licked me all over, but he moaned like I was doing him. That day I thought how lucky I was to have him. And right then it didn’t matter that, two days prior, I was angry at him for not getting back to me when I called and left a detailed voice mail. I tore into him about being inconsiderate of me when we had dinner plans. How I’d waited and waited on him to pick me up, until I realized he’d left me in the lurch. I told myself there’s no way in hell I could marry a man who took me for granted. But I heard his sweet voice hours later, and he stopped by my place after midnight, unannounced, looking sheepish, apologizing and smelling good.
“Where were you?” I grilled him.
“I had to work, baby; these people had me waiting so long to show them the house that I fell asleep in the car. Then, when I woke up, I had to let them in the house, and they took their time inspecting every inch of the place.”
“Okay, but why didn’t you call when you woke up?”
“I couldn’t get a signal, baby, you know how undependable these cell phones are. You pay up the ass every month and can’t even use the phone half the time.” The subject went from where he was to how he hated Sprint because “they are so freaking unreliable.” And I thought about how freaking unreliable Jeff could be. And I let it go. I didn’t yet terminate his contract. Because as he bitched about Sprint, he caressed my arms. My legs. And I got lost. Deep in love. Again. And the cycle repeated itself.
Although I genuinely loved him, I didn’t always love what came with being with him. And now that I have to witness my sister getting caught up, I almost can’t believe it. It’s like my relationship is being rewound, replayed for me all over again. I don’t like how it appears he’s moving too fast with her, so fast that she’s blinded by his apparent charms.
“Rach—.”
“Don’t.” I feel him standing behind me. His warm breath flows against my neck. I wish he’d just stop it.