“So what category does brothers like Kelvin fall in? The ones that have everything else in line but isn’t working with anything in his drawers”
“I guess I need to add another category. He belongs in the TDC group”
“What does that stand for?”
The Toddler Dick Clique”
“Stacy you oughta’ be ashamed of yourself”
“Ashamed of myself for what? I’m just stating the facts”
“Well I hate to burst your bubble. But you’re going to spend your entire life searching for Mr. Right because no one is perfect and your expectations are too high. Girl you need to stop searching for perfection.”
“I don’t expect to find perfection. But he has to be pretty close to it or else I’m not going to waste my time.”
Lena laughs. “Stacy you tickle my stomach.”
“Let’s change the topic all this talk about men makes me think about Kelvin and I get pissed off all over again.”
“Fine with me”
“I talked to Brandi earlier today and she informed me that she fainted in the shower”
“She told me. I told her butt she needs to go to the doctor. And she also needs to leave that man of hers for once and for all. You know what? I do agree with you about the Jackass category because Trae definitely belongs in it. He doesn’t give a damn about Brandi. He never has and he never will. Sometimes I wish that I could knock some common sense into that birdbrain of hers. There is no way that I could put up with his shit for all of these years. And he rides around in a new Jaguar while Brandi and his children cruise around in a busted up Mini-Van that doesn’t have any damn air conditioner. I offered to drive our Honda Accord down to Texas because, hell, we’re not using it anyway. And do you know this helfa said that she didn’t want it because Trae would feel like she came to me for help. I told her crazy behind- well he needs to buy you a new car then?”
“And what’d she say?”
“That helfa ended our conversation. You know she doesn’t like to hear the truth. Especially if it has anything to do with him”
“Enough of talking about that. The way she lets him handle her irks my very last nerve. Well at least Vanessa and Jason or doing good, it’s hard to believe that their thirteenth year anniversary is right around the corner. Time sure does fly”
“Yeah, don’t remind me. Gosh we’re getting old.”
“I wonder how did Deon take it when she told him that she couldn’t see him anymore?”
“She hasn’t told him yet but she says that she’s going to tell him soon. She loves Jason and she says that he’s been trying to be more affectionate lately. The things that she’s done are killing her.”
“Thank God she came to her senses! I’ve always thought that Jason belongs in the Mr. Right category”
“You and these categories” Lena laughs.
“What are you doing for your birthday? It is Monday right? “
“Don’t remind me. I feel so old. I don’t know what I’m going to do yet. Knowing me I’m probably going to be working. I have a couple houses that have been on the market for months now that I’m still trying to sell.”
“Yeah, I forgot about that”
“Oh shoot, what time is it? Lena asks.
“It’s a little after six thirty here, so it’s about seven thirty there.”
“I’ve got to go and pick up Khi and his friends from the bowling alley so I need to get off of this phone because my motherly duties are calling. I hope you decide to come visit soon. I’m going to take you to a couple of clubs and show you how we do it in the A.”
“Alright chic I’ll talk to you later”
“Talk to you later Stacy”
And we hung up.
****
The next day, which is a Saturday I lounge around my condo doing absolutely nothing. I’m bored out of my mind. Most women wish that they could just lie around and be lazy. Me, I’m tired of being able to be lazy whenever I want to. How is that possible? How can a person be tired of being lazy? Maybe I’m just tired of this same old boring routine. I do the same thing day in and day out.
Uuuuugggghhh!
God please send me a man
I decided to get out of the house and pamper myself. I’ve gotten my brows waxed, a manicure and pedicure. I have so much time on my hands that I even get a Brazilian wax. Hell I don’t even know why I wasted my money doing that, it’s not like anyone is going to be visiting my coo-coo anytime soon. Now, I’m in Alaina’s boutique browsing through designer purses. This does make me feel a little better until a couple walks in the store pushing their twin boys in a stroller. I so want what they have, love, and I think that the woman knows it too. Which is probably the reason why she just gripped his arm tighter. I don’t blame her. If I had a man that looks like Morris Chestnut I’d hold on to him to. That is of course if he has his shit together. When I leave the boutique I head to the mall and every store I visit is filled with happy couples. It’s driving me crazy. What are these women doing that I’m not doing? Lena would probably say that they probably don’t have a book of standards in their heads. And she’s probably right.
I finally head back home. When I get here I relax in a hot bubble bath. I soak for thirty minutes before I get out. I’m determined to figure out why I’m sexy, successful, and single. So as soon as I throw on my robe I pour a glass of red wine, slouch down on my sofa and continue reading where I left off yesterday.
****
On Sunday Morning I’m awakened by the chirping of the blue jays, mourning doves, and slandering’s. It’s early; only eight o’clock and I realize that I fell asleep reading last night. The book is smothered in my breast so I set it on the ottoman in front of the dark brown leather sectional I’m lying on. I’ve slept here the entire night, which explains the reason for the uncomfortable crook in my neck. I yawn, stretch, then get up and walk into the kitchen. When I hear the coffee spilling into the mug I gain an immediate urge to release myself so I pace quickly down the hall and head into the guest bathroom. I clean my face, brush my teeth, wrap my hair and tie it down then head back into the kitchen. Steam lingers around the mug as I remove it from the Keurig. The broiling coffee is full to the rim and I realize that I must’ve brewed a ten ounce cup instead of an eight ounce cup which is the reason that I’m spilling drops of coffee all over the hardwood floor. Luckily not one drop of the scorching beverage brazes my feet.
When I step out onto the terrace of my high-rise condo a crisp breeze floats through the morning air. From where I’m standing, everything looks so tiny. It’s beautiful up here. Right now, I wish I had something to do or at least someone to do but instead of feeling sorry for myself I’ve decided...just this very moment, to make myself useful. So, I walk back into my condo, head straight towards my bedroom, and grab something out of my walk-in closet that’s appropriate enough for church. It’s a lavender knee length dress. After I toss it on the foot of the bed I take a quick shower.
****
Church has already started by the time I trot through the church doors. The church house is already crammed. I squeeze my way down the stuffed pew excusing myself as I cross over one lap after another. That’s when I accidently drop my bible into the lap of this undeniably handsome man, wearing a light tan Armani suit with a cream collared buttoned down shirt, a coral necktie, and a pair of expensive looking shoes.
It has to be a sin for a man to look this good in church.
“Ooops, you’re going to need this aren’t you?” He says with a breath-taking smile.
Oh God he fits the description of the man I’ve been praying for, I thought. His smile is hypnotizing and judging from his looks he’s definitely my type. He’s well groomed; caramel toned, with a cleanly shaved baldhead, sumptuous lips, and deep dimples. Even though he’s sitting down I can tell that he frequently visits the gym. And his height? If I had to take a guess I would say that he’s about six five. Because even though he’s in a seated position it’s obvious that he�
��s tall.
God please let my words come out, I pray before I whisper, “I’m so sorry for being clumsy. I definitely need this.” Then I retrieve my bible from him and sit down beside him.
During the sermon I’m scoping him out with my peripheral vision, contemplating whether or not I should approach him.
Yes, thank you Jesus! He’s not wearing a wedding band, I almost said aloud as I watch him lift his arms and praise the Lord. Should I say something to him when the sermon is over? I wonder. I probably shouldn’t if he’s interested he’ll approach me.
This man is fine as all get out. Suddenly I hear Vanessa’s voice echoing in my head saying “Stacy Moreland you should be ashamed of yourself for lusting over a man in the Lord’s house.” So I do my best to maintain the little bit of composure that I have left.
After the service “Excuse me miss.” I hear a baritone voice say as I’m walking down the church steps. Stopping dead in my tracks I glance over my shoulders. Oh God it’s him
“You just don’t want this bible do you?” He jokes.
“It looks that way doesn’t it” I say, and grab my bible. “Thanks”
“I’m Harold Lattimore” He says extending his hand “and you are?”
“Stacy”
“Sta-c-yyy....?“
“Moreland” I say.
“Is that your maiden name or married name?” he asks.
“That’s my maiden name”
“Stacy mind if I ask if whether are not you are single?”
I’m as single as they come “Unfortunately I’m not spoken for” I say while scooting out of the way so that the people behind us could get by. He scoots over too.
“Well today must be my lucky day” He says.
And mines too, I’m sure I’m blushing bashfully.
“Stacy I would love to take you out, if that’s okay with you?”
Heck yeah that’s okay with me. I should be ashamed of myself for thinking like this while I’m standing right outside of the church house. “Sure take down my number”
He pulled out his cellular. “Okay, what is your number?”
“It’s three-one-two...wait a minute, you are single right? You’re not married or anything?” I joke.
“No, I’ve been divorced for about four years”
He’s been divorced! Was he the blame? He probably was. And if he wasn’t he probably has a psycho ex-wife. Cut it out Stacy. Don’t judge the man before you get to know him. “It’s 312-475-6321”
“Alright I have it. I’ll give you a call around seven, maybe we can have dinner or something soon”
“Sounds good, I look forwarding to hearing from you” I say and walk down the steps.
“I’ll call you at seven o’clock on the dot and not a minute later” I hear him say as I walk away.
“Thank you Jesus! I hope he’s my Mr. Right” I mumble amongst myself and head to my car.
CHAPTER 3
Kenneth & Lena...Atlanta Georgia
"Well how has the birthday girl's day been so far?"
"It's just another day to me"
"Hopefully I can change that, I have something that'll help brighten up your day"
"Look I've had a long day okay, I just-"
“Shhh” Kenneth said with his finger pressed against his lips. He revealed the rectangular box hidden behind his back and handed it to Lena. “Happy birthday baby” he was standing right beside the front door entry. He'd been standing there since the moment Lena walked inside their high-rise condo. “Go ahead, open it" he begged her.
"We can't afford this so it needs to go back"
"I swear woman your detrimental attitude can spoil a damn wet dream. Why do you always have to be so damn negative?"
"If stating the facts means being negative, then so be it"
"And I guess saying thank you is a little bit too much for you?"
"Thanks" Lena said, and flashed him a cynical smile. She was a little frustrated because he hadn’t given her time to get in the house good. “Can I at least get in the house and get settled first? I wasn't really looking forward to being harassed as soon as I walk through the door" Lena sauntered pass Kenneth and headed to the kitchen, dropped the gift box on the countertop and grabbed the container of coffee grounds out of the Monaco designed cabinet. “Money is tight right now and he goes and buy a damn piece of jewelry" she mumbled sarcastically amongst herself as she dumped a few teaspoons of the instant coffee into a mug.
Her behavior had Kenneth rattled as he remained at the entrance of the doorway, where he stood still for a brief moment with a stunned expression on his face. Why did I even try to do something special for her? Every fucking time this is what happens he thought. The heels of his leather shoes clacked briskly against the hardwood floor as he cantered towards the kitchen. Once there, he sat down on one of the four bar stools that were in front of the bar counter and just stared at Lena for a long silent moment. "So you don't even want to know what it is?" He finally asked.
Lena finished pouring the steaming hot water into her mug before focusing her eyes on him. "Why should I? It's going back to the store anyway. What part of we cannot afford it don't you understand?"
He was broiling with anger as he pulled the dark gray collared shirt out of his black slacks and loosened his necktie. "How in the hell can you tell me what I can and can't afford?"
Lena walked over to the glass pub table and sat down. "Because I'm the one that foots majority of the bills around here, that's how."
Kenny released his gun from the holster attached to his slacks and set it on top of the bar counter. He could feel his forehead knotting. So, rather than study Lena’s pulchritudinous features such as her big beautiful eyes, that one dimple that transpired every time that she smiled, her creamy exotic skin and the connect-the-dot freckles on both sides of her cheeks, her long curly hair, her hourglass figure and the way that her perky D cups looked in the purple silk blouse that she was wearing, he ignored all the things about her that usually turned him on. At the moment none of those things mattered to him and he couldn’t remember one thing that he loved about her. He didn’t even know why he'd even tried to make her day or why he'd put up with her attitude for so long. He was flustered. He then crossed over to where Lena was sitting and slammed his enormous hands down on the table "You know, I'm getting sick and tired of your bullshit Lena. I've put up with it for years and I have had enough of it"
He accidently knocked over the cup of coffee.
"Now, look what you’ve done” She yelled, then pulled away from the table. “Unlike you, I work hard on my job and I’m too tired to clean up behind your ass! So will you please learn to be careful?”
She flounced over by the stove where a paper towel holder was mounted onto the backsplash, yanked off a handful of paper towels and then stormed back to the table and wiped it dry.
By then Kenneth had grabbed the gift box from the countertop and threw it into the wall. "And I suppose that you think I don’t work hard on my job? You know what, forget it. Don’t even answer that question because I’m sure your answer is only going to piss me off more than I already am. For years you've carried on in this marriage as if you're the only one that said I do. Everything that has anything to do with this condo, the cars we drive, the trips that we take, are always your decision as if I'm nonexistent in this goddamn marriage. I'm beginning to wonder if whether or not you want to be married. Or if you married me because you'd gotten pregnant." He roared, and then grabbed his vibrating mobile. “You’re real close to having your wish come true!” He didn’t mean that, he was just so frustrated. Kenneth stood, then grabbed a beer out of the refrigerator, and sat back down on the barstool.
"This is Detective Gibson"
“Gibson, where are you?”
“I had to run home for a bit”
“One day you’ll learn to leave those Krystal Burgers alone. They mess you up every single time” Storm chuckled.
Storm was Kenny’s partner, the only partner
he’d had since he’d joined the Atlanta Police-Homicide Unit almost seven years ago. She was gorgeous with a super-model face and a figure to die for. Which didn’t set well with his wife. That damn women intuition. She believed that Storm had feelings for her husband. And she was right. “My bed or yours?” Storm had asked Kenneth years ago while she sat on the corner of his desk, a few years after they’d started working together. Every man in the department longed to be in his shoes but Kenneth would never dream of cheating on Lena. Storm’s beauty didn’t entice him. To him, she was just another beautiful woman. A beautiful woman that could never beguile him into cheating on his wife. Although Lena didn’t believe him, the only thing that he found appealing about Storm was her adoration with solving cases because he shared that same passion. Seven in a half years ago when Kenneth’s parents were found sitting on their front porch lying in a puddle of their own blood, a gunshot wound embedded in his mother’s skull and a bullet hole stamped on his father’s heart, he resigned from his position as the finance director at JB&L accounting and became an officer of the law. Since that tragedy happened to his family there has been nothing that means more to him than capturing bloodthirsty criminals and locking them away. His marriage hasn’t been the same since.
He could feel Lena gazing at him. She hated when Storm called. “Get off my phone with that nonsense” He cackled, although he wasn’t in a joking mood. He got a kick out of it because he knew that it was pissing off Lena. “You better be calling me to tell me that we have a lead on Sanchez”
“That’s exactly why I’m calling. Captain says that he had a witness call him this morning that claims they can identify Sanchez as the shooter.”
Unfaithful Ties Page 6