Big Girls Do Cry

by Carl Weber

  Leon looked at me strangely. “And so what? What’s that supposed to mean?”

  I pulled up my dress. “I’m wearing it!” I said angrily.

  Leon’s face suddenly went blank. He pointed at the other thong on the floor. “Well, whose is that, then?”

  “That’s what I want you to tell me.” I folded my arms and glared at him.

  “I don’t know. Maybe you have two pair and just didn’t realize it? How the hell you put on a thong and don’t know what color it is anyway?”

  “The only time I notice the color is when I’m wearing something white, which I’m not today.”

  “Well, if you don’t pay attention, then maybe you’re mistaken. Maybe you do have more than one purple pair.”

  It was a good try on his part, but I wasn’t going to let him weasel his way out of this. “I’m sure I have only one purple thong, Leon. So now I want to know, how did this get in the living room if I’m wearing my only pair?”

  “I don’t know.” Leon looked befuddled. “I swear on my dead grandmother’s grave, I don’t know where those panties came from.”

  I couldn’t believe he was swearing on his dead grandmother again. He was stooping to a new low with his lies lately. “You know what, Leon? Get out of my room.”

  He didn’t even bother to protest. He let out a deep sigh, grabbed his blanket, and walked out.

  I plopped down on my bed and fumed. I wanted to call Jerome and talk about my latest discovery, but I was too ashamed. Plus, Jerome was always threatening to whip Leon’s ass, and I didn’t want this thing to escalate into any type of felonious assault. Jerome was my friend, and he would watch my back no matter what, but talking about Leon would only set me up for problems later. Jerome would take my side, which might make me feel better in the moment, but if Leon and I worked things out, Jerome would forever hold a grudge.

  Since I couldn’t talk to my best friend, I needed another way to soothe my aching heart. I did something I had vowed to myself I wouldn’t do: I picked up my cell phone and sent a text message to Terrance, asking him when we could get together again. If Leon wanted to play games, I’d show him how it went. I wasn’t going to get mad. I was going to get even.

  Jerome

  26

  It was a little after eight when I reached down from the bed to pick up my pants off the floor. I was searching through my pockets for my BlackBerry to call Loraine, to do a little bragging and let her know I was going to be late for work. There was no way I was going to make it back to Richmond from DC, get dressed for work, and make it to the office by nine o’clock. Hell, I’d be lucky if I made it by twelve. What I really wanted to do was call in sick so I could spend some more time with Ron, the hot new plaything lying next to me. I called him the Energizer Bunny, because he kept going and going and going.

  I looked over at him sleeping next to me. I think I’m in love.

  I know, I know, I was always telling people not to confuse good sex with love, but there is truly a thin line between the two, and Ron took me right there to the edge. My goodness, there was truly something to be said about youthful exuberance, because my forty-five-year-old body felt like it was twenty-five again.

  I’d come to Washington, DC, late Saturday, trying to take my mind off Big Poppa, who’d canceled our Sunday get-together to be with his wife. To say I was pissed off was an understatement; I was absolutely furious. I’d waited all week to see that man, purchased the ingredients for his favorite foods, and turned down two dates. For him to cancel at the last minute was just wrong. He did, however, promise that next weekend was mine, and mine alone. I was still pissed off about the whole principle of the thing, but Ron had made me feel much better.

  I’d met Ron last night at a reggae club up here in DC. Believe it or not, he was a player on Georgetown’s basketball team. Not a starter yet, but now that I’d gotten to know him a little better, he could play on my team any day. I’d seen him and a few of his teammates come in the club about eleven. I wasn’t really into young cats; matter of fact, the only reason I even noticed them was because of their height. How often do you see seven or eight men over six foot three together unless you’re actually at a game?

  Originally I wasn’t even paying attention to him. If anything, I had my eyes on his teammate, the seven-foot center with number one lottery pick stamped on his forehead. Having a sponsor in the NBA would be a dream come true. He could take my lifestyle to a whole ‘nother level. Unfortunately for me and Mr. Lottery Pick, it became apparent early in the night that he was into the ladies. He hadn’t given me as much as a glance the entire evening.

  Around midnight, I’d just about given up on finding a playmate for the night, when I got this feeling that someone was watching me. Usually I caught the vibe pretty quickly and could hone in on the watcher, but whoever it was, he was pretty damn smooth, because I couldn’t make eye contact to save my life. There was, however, one constant the entire night. Every time I looked around, there was Ron a few feet away, and once I realized that, I knew he was the one. He wasn’t obvious at all. In fact, most of the time he was all up in a woman’s face, but being gay, even if you are in denial, is like being part of a secret society. We always know how to spot other members of the club. To a casual observer, he was just a regular guy in the club, but in a subtle way, he was sending out a vibe I could pick up. I knew it was only a matter of time before he would confirm he was the person who was watching me.

  It happened when I was in the men’s room. I didn’t even realize he’d come in until I turned around from the urinal to wash my hands, and there he was washing his. Although he was cuter in the light of the bathroom than he was in the darkness of the club, he was nowhere close to being fine. He did have a handsome ruggedness to him, though, that was very appealing, and he had a slammin’ body.

  “Hey,” he said timidly.

  “How you doing?” I asked, acknowledging his presence as I turned on the water. Neither of us looked at the other directly, although we were side by side. It was as if we were talking through the restroom mirror.

  “I’m aw-ight. How’re you?” he replied. His accent told me he wasn’t from anywhere north of Richmond.

  I wanted to laugh, because it was so obvious he meant for this conversation to continue when he started washing his hands for the second time.

  “I’m okay,” I said. “A little lonely in this big city. Can’t wait to get back to Richmond.”

  “I know what you mean. Where I come from, Richmond is the big city.”

  “Oh, yeah? Where you from?”

  “You ever heard of South Boston? Not the one in Massachusetts, but the one in Virginia.”

  “Man, you my homeboy. Of course I heard of South Boston. I’m from Danville. My momma’s from South Boston.” This was going to be easier than I thought.

  “For real? You the first person I met from back home since I been here.” He turned, offering me his hand so that we were no longer talking through the mirror. “My name’s Ron. Ron Grier.”

  “Pleasure to meet you, Ron. My name’s Jerome.” I took his hand, and he gave me a firm shake.

  I could feel the chemistry between us, and I really didn’t want to let go of his hand, but he gave me no choice when he snatched his back as soon as another patron walked into the restroom.

  There was an awkward silence between us as we exited the bathroom and headed back into the darkness of the club. His demeanor changed quickly. I could tell he was scanning the place to see if any of his teammates were watching us. Worried that he was only seconds away from losing his nerve, I made my move.

  “Look, Ron, I’m about to get out of here, but if you wanna grab a cup of coffee or catch up on what’s going on back home, I’m staying at the J. W. Marriott. Unfortunately, I’m leaving tomorrow morning, so if we’re going to get together, it probably should be tonight.”

  After such a direct invitation, I totally expected him to walk out of that club with me, but instead of saying “Let’s go,” h
e just offered me his hand awkwardly. He didn’t even look me in the eye. I followed his gaze over my shoulder, turning to see two women about his age approaching us. They stepped up to him and put their arms around his waist. The three of them seemed pretty cozy, so I’m sure they’d been waiting for him the whole time.

  “Okay, homeboy. Have a safe trip back,” he said.

  “Ah, thanks.” I shook his hand, feeling like I’d just been dismissed by this young boy as he and the two women walked back into the crowd.

  Was he just playing me?

  If he was, it was certainly a rare occurrence. My intuition about brothers on the down low was usually pretty damn good. I almost never misread the signals.

  I dismissed the thoughts from my head quickly, because it didn’t matter anyway. It wasn’t like I’d ever see him again. I hadn’t even given him my last name, let alone a room number where I was staying.

  I took one more look around the club, and not seeing any more interesting prospects, I decided it was time to head out. Looked like it would be one lonely night in my hotel room—until one of the women who’d been with Ron approached me near the coat-check line.

  “Ron wanted me to ask you what room that party was in.”

  Her question caught me off guard. “He asked what?”

  “He wanted to know what room that party you invited him to was going to be in.”

  I gave her the number but wondered if I was doing the right thing. I was happy he had sent her to ask but was still a little unsure if I’d read him correctly. I hadn’t told him it was a party, so what did it mean that he was calling it one? Maybe it was just part of his cover, and he was hoping I’d tell these girls it was a private party so he could ditch them with some of his teammates. Or maybe, I thought, I had seriously misread his vibe, and he was just some nice, simple straight kid from the South who really thought I was inviting him to a party. Either way, it was too late now, because I’d already given out my room number, and I had to be prepared that he might show up with the two women—or worse, with a bunch of drunken, homophobic college basketball players.

  “So, are you and your friend coming to the party?” I asked.

  She rolled her eyes. “No. Ain’t no way I’m going to some stinky-ass old people’s poker party. I can’t stand cigars.”

  I smiled. My question was answered.

  Later that night, about two-thirty, Ron showed up at my room. By three o’clock, we were in the bed buck naked. He had the most incredible, athletic body I’d ever been with and the stamina to go at it all night. Every time I thought we were done, he’d take a brief nap, then climb on top of me, and we’d be off to the races again.

  I wasn’t sure if he was taking a nap or finally asleep for good, but I figured I’d better call Loraine and let her know I was going to be late.

  “Hey, girl,” I said when I heard her very meek hello. “Look, I done run into a Greek god up here in DC, and I’m not sure if I’m gonna be back in time to come in.”

  “That’s okay,” she said. “I’m not sure if I’m going into work either.”

  “I hear that. You working from home today? I think I’ve got everything set with the Sullivan file. I’ll e-mail it over to you if you’d like.”

  “No, don’t e-mail me shit. I couldn’t care less about the Sullivan project right now. I’m just gonna do me for a change.”

  Red flags went up in my mind.

  “Do you? Loraine, what’s wrong? You don’t take days off to do you. And if I can paraphrase you, you are the company.”

  “I know that, Jerome. I just need some time, okay? I’ve got a lot on my mind.”

  “What’s going on? It’s not the sorority stuff, is it? I thought everything went well with your brunch.”

  “It did. They loved me. And they loved Leon too.” The way she said Leon’s name told me everything I needed to hear.

  “Okay, what did he do now? He didn’t put his hands on you again, did he?”

  “No, but I wish I could put mine around his fucking neck,” she growled.

  “What’d he do?” I asked for the second time. “The way you been talking, I thought you was going to put him up for husband of the year.”

  “I’d like to put a stick up his ass; that’s what I’d like to do.” Loraine and Leon had their problems, but I wasn’t used to hearing her talk about him like this. I sat up in the bed.

  “Raine, will you tell me what the hell he’s done?” I demanded.

  “He’s cheating on me, Jerome, okay? That son of a bitch is fucking some whore in my house like I don’t even live here.”

  “Shut up!” I shouted. “You caught him with a woman in the house?”

  “No, but I found that nasty bitch’s panties a couple of times. If I had caught them in my house, I’d be calling you from my jail cell, ‘cause I would have shot both their asses dead.”

  “Damn, I go out of town for one day and all hell breaks loose.”

  I glanced at Ron sleeping and thought, Oh, well, at least one of us had a good night.

  “So, what you gonna do, Raine? You’re not gonna stay with him after this, are you?”

  She let out a pathetic laugh, but behind it I could hear that she really felt like crying. “First I’m gonna go sit down and finish my eggs Benedict and my mimosa. Then I’m going to take the handsome young man waiting at my table upstairs to the suite I rented so he can fuck my brains out. That’s what I’m going to do.”

  “You go, girl. I’m impressed. Get some for me.”

  “I already have.”

  So, she’d finally done it! I had been trying to convince Loraine for the longest time that she needed to get rid of Leon or at least find herself a playmate. I was so happy to hear that she’d gone there.

  “What about Leon? You gonna finally kick him to the curb?”

  “Nope.”

  “No?” I shouted.

  “Jerome, I don’t have to tell you that in everything I do, I have to be better than a man at it. So I guess now I have to be better at being a dog. Besides, it’s cheaper to keep him.”

  “Loraine, this is nothing to play with. You need to divorce his ass.”

  “I need him right now, Jerome. If I’m going to win the presidency, I need him, so unless things get worse, this is not open to discussion. We clear on that?”

  “All right, if that’s what you want.” I was surprised she shut me down like that.

  “Thank you. Now, my food’s getting cold, so I’ll talk to you later.”

  “Talk to you later, Raine.”

  Before she hung up, I heard a beep, so I clicked over. “Hello?”

  “What did I do to make you treat me this way?” I recognized the voice right away. It was crazy-ass Peter. He was really starting to get on my nerves.

  “Look, man, I’m not doing anything to you, so you need to stop calling me.”

  “I love you, Jerome. How could you hurt me like this?”

  This guy was nuts!

  “Man, you don’t even know me. How the hell you gonna say you love me?”

  “I know you. I know you better than I know myself. And I’m not going to let some young boy ruin it for me.”

  “What young boy?” How the hell did he know about Ron?

  “Oh, so now you’re gonna play stupid? Do you know how easy it would be for me to knock on your hotel room door right now?” Jesus Christ, he followed me! This son of a bitch was scary.

  The hotel phone rang.

  “You can go ahead and answer the phone. It’s me.”

  I reached over to the phone, but then pulled my hand back.

  “You’re fucking following me?” I was starting to feel more than a little paranoid, but I didn’t want him to know. It would give him the upper hand if he thought I was scared. I had to remain aggressive. “You know what? You’re a sick dude. You need to get yourself some help.”

  He laughed. “You think I’m crazy? Well, you’re right. I’m crazy for you, and if I can’t have you, nobody will.”


  Isis

  27

  I rolled over and woke up on Saturday morning to the sound of Egypt barking orders at the landscapers. The clock next to my bed told me it was almost noon. I probably could have slept until one or two in the afternoon, like I’d been doing the past few days, but I figured I’d probably be the next one on Egypt’s shit list if I didn’t get my butt up before she came looking for me.

  I headed for the bathroom, prepared to do what had become my regular Saturday morning ritual, taking a pregnancy test. So far, we’d made three insemination attempts, and none had worked. I was really becoming concerned. What if I couldn’t get pregnant? What if my age had caught up with me and made me barren like my sister? Rashad and Egypt were anxious for me to have a baby, but I wanted it just as bad. I was starting to think that without a baby, there would be no more chances to win back Rashad.

  As it was, he had already started paying less attention to me since the stunt I pulled last month. Before that, he was so sweet, practically waiting on me hand and foot so I could relax while I was trying to have his baby. But once I got busted for lying about the clinic, Rashad was definitely keeping his distance. Egypt still waited on me, when she wasn’t being a pain in the ass, but it wasn’t the same.

  The only good news was that he hadn’t told Egypt about how I tried to seduce him. If she knew, World War III would have broken out in the house, and I don’t think he wanted to take that risk. I think he kept it a secret because he knew that he wasn’t entirely innocent. God, would I have loved to find out what would have happened if Egypt hadn’t called.

  Who am I kidding? I know exactly what would have happened. Egypt just didn’t know how lucky she was.

  But it didn’t happen, because his desire to have a child outweighed everything, and if Egypt kicked me out, that would mean no baby. Yeah, he might have been staying away from me, but he was definitely still excited about the prospect of fatherhood. I could hear him and my sister talking about it all the time, which certainly wasn’t helping my mood lately.