My Daughter's Boyfriend

by Cydney Rax

  “Well, you know when women are going through something, they always feel they have to tell somebody—a friend, a cyber pal, a talk-show host.”

  “Well, if you ever see Lauren on The Ricki Lake Show, I don’t want to know.”

  “Nah, she’s not that crazy. She’ll be all right.”

  “Aaron, let me ask you something. Why do you seem so calm through all this? It seems like you’re taking things way too casually.”

  I cleared my throat. “It’s not that I don’t care. I do. About you.”

  “So, just that quick you’ve lost feelings for Lauren? Like she never meant anything?”

  “It’s not that I’ve lost feelings for her. My main thing is that the decision has been made not to be with her anymore. That’s a done deal. What am I supposed to do, try and be buddies with her while I’m spending time with you? That’s not going to work.”

  “I know, I know, I know what you’re saying; it’s just that you seem kind of emotionally unattached.”

  “Hey, just because I don’t show it doesn’t mean it’s not there. I’m just fast-forwarding my mind to a future with you. Why stay stuck in the past? Because like it or not, things will never be the same between me and Lauren.”

  The intensity of Tracey’s eyes mellowed, as did her voice. “I think you’re right.”

  She continued walking without saying anything to me for a long while. I let her nurse her thoughts, find some peace. After we’d walked about another half mile, she turned to me.

  “Well, what about karma?”

  “I don’t know her.”

  “No, silly. Karma. Reaping what you sow. This thing that we’re doing, it may come back to haunt us.”

  My eyes flickered into an unfocused view of Tracey’s face.

  “Aaron, if you want to know the truth, although I enjoy being with you, every night when I go to sleep, I pray that children’s prayer:

  Now I lay me down to sleep

  I pray the Lord my soul to keep

  If I should die before I wake

  I pray the Lord my soul to take

  “What’s your point?” I asked.

  “I haven’t prayed that prayer in years. Or I’ll only pray it when I think something bad might happen. At the end of the day, I can’t shake the feeling that I’ll go to sleep and never wake up again. So I speak it over me to make sure everything is squared away between the Lord above and me. You know what I’m saying?”

  I nodded.

  “Aaron, I haven’t been to church in so long they’re going to come after me for back tithes in a minute, but I still remember certain things. When it comes to God, knowing right and wrong, some things you never forget.”

  I sighed and stopped walking. She kept going.

  “Trace, hold up.”

  She stopped and returned to my side.

  “Yeah?”

  “Look, I want to be with you, but if our being together has you to the point that you think God is going to pull a fast one on you in your sleep, then maybe we should just end this right now. I mean, I think you over-analyze everything, you say one thing with your mouth, and do something else with your actions. So what, you pray that prayer every night? If you wake up in the morning and find you still have a pulse, but go right back out and do the things you feel guilty about, doesn’t that cancel out the prayer? You think the God who knows everything is stupid all of a sudden and that He can’t see through all that?” My voice trembled and so did my hand when I tried to place it on her shoulder, forcing her to look me in the eyes.

  She blinked and said softly, “Aaron, I’ll let you in on something else. I just don’t pray the children’s prayer at night. I find myself praying every time I get in my car to go somewhere, anywhere. Any strange movement of another vehicle driving near scares me, especially eighteen-wheelers. I wonder if they’re going to accidentally crash into me and send me to an early grave. Oh, Aaron, you just don’t know how hard all this is.” Her fear snatched her breath, like she was hyperventilating, and she rubbed her forehead.

  “Tracey.” I grabbed her. “Your being scared scares me.”

  “Well, there’s no need in both of us being scared,” she told me, loosing herself from my grasp.

  “So, what do you want to do?” I wanted to know.

  She grabbed her hair and yanked on a couple of strands but didn’t say anything.

  Felt like my heart skipped a few beats. My hands felt sweaty, like they were crying and advertising my fears.

  “Well . . .” She winced. “If we stop this, if we . . . okay, let’s say we stop the sex part. You think it would be okay for us to just know each other as good friends, but leave out the sex?”

  I bared my teeth, but closed my mouth real quick.

  “Sure, yeah, whatever, Tracey. If you think that our not physically being involved would clear your conscience, then go ahead. Go ahead and leave me alone, because I can’t promise you I’d want to know you as just a friend. Men and women who’ve been lovers can’t go back to being just good friends. You just can’t do it.”

  “But what if we—”

  “Steve Monroe! You guys were involved big-time. Are you still friends now?”

  “No, but—”

  “That’s my point! If you really think I’d let you go to the place where I can’t touch you but can only talk to you and be happy with that, think again. When I want a woman, I want all of her. And I’ve come to the conclusion that it’s not enough for me to have just some of you.”

  She looked at me and a small grin escaped through her frustrated mouth. Her brown eyes, large and engaging, lassoed me inside her mind. I could almost hear her brain clicking, calculating what I’d just told her. She grabbed my face between her hands and kissed me warmly on my lips.

  I let her kiss me, but I didn’t grab her. Just stood there, and she broke the kiss shortly thereafter.

  “What up with that, Tracey?”

  “You just don’t know what your words did to me. It’s like you’re validating or confirming what it is you want from me. In my mind, that’s just what I needed to hear, because if that’s how you feel, maybe all this is worth the risk. Maybe there’s more to this than what I thought. I’m glad you want me for more than sex, because that’s what it’s going to take for us to make it. I mean, I don’t know what the future holds, but if we’re going to have a fighting chance, then we’re going to have to have more than just surface feelings, you know what I mean?”

  I smiled at her. Hesitated before I spoke again.

  “Yep, I do. So, Tracey, how do you feel about me?”

  “I’m crazy about your jailbait behind,” she laughed. “I don’t know what it is, but I do enjoy you. We don’t fight all the time; there are very few hassles, and the few that we have come from outside sources. So I think we get along pretty well, and I like that. With Steve—hate to keep bringing him up—”

  “I’m secure enough for you to talk about him, baby.”

  “—but we didn’t always see eye-to-eye. I don’t know. The sex was the bomb, like you said, but there was a price to pay. I never understood how Steve could want his ex and me at the same time. It always made me feel like something was wrong with me, like I didn’t have everything he needed in a woman. And let me tell you something, I gave a whole lot to that relationship. I lived the air that he breathed, I mean, it was deep.”

  “You make him sound so bad, why’d you want the dude in the first place?”

  She sputtered out a laugh, then got serious. “Rose-colored glasses make you see all kinds of things that end up not being there. It’s like any other relationship. In the beginning you accentuate all your good sides, just to entice someone. But once you feel you have the person in your grip, boom, all the skeletons come flying out the closet and you gotta run for cover.”

  “Dig that,” I told her. “But on the other hand, if it weren’t for him, maybe you and I wouldn’t have gotten together, huh?”

  “Oh Lord, there you go. So I should be thank
ful Steve is an asshole? Is that what you’re saying?”

  “I’m not saying that. I’m trying to keep you focused and help you feel better about things. About how all this is really just life when you think about it. Put it like this: if it hadn’t been me who’d just broken up with Lauren, it would have been somebody else. She’d still be mad, hurt, and angry. She’d still have to work through her feelings, and in my eyes, this is the same.”

  “Oh, I don’t know about all that. Come on, let’s start heading back.”

  We started walking west toward my car.

  “Why don’t you agree with me, Tracey?”

  “For the simple fact that it would be different if Lauren and a guy had broken up but they didn’t have to be in each other’s faces all the time. But because you’ll still be coming to see me, well, she’s forced to see it. She can’t really heal if what we’re doing is still going on right in her face.”

  “I have a solution for that.”

  She looked doubtful. “Which is?”

  “I won’t come visit you at your place anymore. Once she returns from Christmas break, you can start coming to mine. How’s that sound?”

  “Hmmm! Uh, I don’t know. I’ve never been to your place. What would your roommate say? What’s his name?”

  “Brad. What could he say? You’re my company, my lady friend, and plus he’s not there all the time anyway.”

  “Oh. Well, your parents. Do they know? About us?”

  I cleared my throat.

  “Uh, not really. They know Lauren and I aren’t together anymore, but I haven’t told them about you.”

  She stopped walking and grabbed my hand till I stopped, too. “Why not?” Her voice was sharp, cutting.

  “Tracey, be for real,” I said in a calm, logical voice. “This just happened.”

  “No, it hasn’t—”

  “What? You think just because I tell my parents about you, that alone will solidify or validate us? Hey, just by the very nature of our age differences and Lauren’s relation to you, we’re going to have to jump through hoops to please everybody. Some folks aren’t going to like it, but we’re not living for them.”

  She waved one finger at me, and I walked alongside her once more. “Okay, that being said, maybe a future meeting with your parents is a must.”

  “Yeah, okay, Tracey. Very future, though. I don’t think it’ll prove anything.”

  “It’s not to prove anything. It’s just so they’ll know what their son is up to.”

  “You talking all that noise,” I said, stepping over a trashed paper bag, “but are you really ready to have a face-to-face with my parents?”

  “No.”

  “I thought so. Scared?”

  “Ahh, not really. Just not ready. Maybe one day. Definitely later than sooner, though.”

  Tracey 28

  Once the after-Christmas sales hit, I made a trip out to West Oaks mall. I found a pair of Anne Kleins and a pair of Sporto shoes; then I went straight to Foley’s and charged some sixty-dollar Liz Taylor perfume, a cute black-and-white backpack, three pairs of jeans, and two holiday sweater vests. I waited in line to purchase a few gift boxes, took every item to the gift wrapping cart located in the middle of the mall, and had everything wrapped separately at five bucks a pop.

  Lugging all my packages, I smiled and thought, Lauren will really enjoy these things; she loves getting gifts and I just know she’ll like them.

  NEW YEAR’S EVE STARTED OUT QUIET. Aaron wanted us to hang out downtown for a change, but because of the Y2K uncertainties, I insisted we stay close to home.

  “Scared. Chicken. Quack, quack,” he said.

  “Excuse me. Ducks quack, not chickens!”

  Instead of answering, he shoved me onto the living room couch and crawled on top of me. I squirmed underneath his body, and got a little heated up when I felt his hardness pressing against me. We hadn’t done anything in a while; I guess we were subconsciously trying to prove that our relationship was built on something more than sexual intimacy. With our holding back going beyond six days and counting. I felt there was nothing left to prove.

  “Get naked,” I commanded, and started pulling Aaron’s shirttail from his pants.

  “I’m yours tonight, baby. Do whatever you want to do to me.”

  “Oh, goodie,” I squealed. I had Aaron get totally naked and I stripped down to my socks.

  “Woman, take those damn socks off your feet. I can’t suck your toes if you have socks on.”

  “Yes, you can and you will. You’ll do whatever I tell you to do.”

  “Yes, ma’am,” he replied and leaned back on the couch with his hands clasped behind his head.

  I waved bye-bye at Aaron and began walking backward toward the kitchen.

  “Where you going?” he asked.

  “Don’t ask questions. Just listen for my commands and do what I say.”

  I went to the refrigerator and poured a tall glass of pink lemonade. Aaron watched me carry the glass, and I knelt by his side. I gulped a few swallows of the cold beverage until remnants were spilling from my mouth. He was still watching me, bobbing his head, grinning and laughing at the same time.

  His manhood looked mega-solid and I thought, Great! When I took him inside my mouth, he jerked and moaned. But after a while he relaxed, started pumping and gyrating his hips while I sucked him, swallowing the sugary drink and then loving him with all my mouth.

  “Tracey, I knew I liked you. Damn, baby, why you been holding back on a brother?” He moaned and twisted and I smiled within from seeing how much he enjoyed himself. Once I was done with that, I started doing an oral dance that extended from his forehead to the nape of his neck; I made my way to his ears, his shoulders, his waist, in between his thighs, and all the way down his legs until I kissed, licked, and sucked on his smooth toes. They curled in my mouth, fighting me with all their little might. I laughed and turned Aaron on his stomach, kissing and biting him on his butt, which was thick and solid, but still as smooth as a baby’s bottom.

  “Damn, Tracey, okay, I can’t take this anymore,” he yelled, wriggling his body.

  “Where’s a condom?”

  “Hell if I know. Call Target and ask a salesclerk. Tracey, baby, would you please turn me over right now?”

  “No.” I was holding him down with my left hand.

  “I’m about to stick my foot up your—”

  “No!”

  “Don’t you care that I’m about to explode? Now stop playing, woman.”

  “I’m not playing.”

  He jerked his torso like a sickly fish on Galveston Beach.

  “Please, baby, please let me come inside you. Please, please,” he asked, struggling to turn over and look at me.

  Giggling, I felt my heart race with dangerous excitement. I spread out on the floor, opened my legs, and caught my breath as Aaron wiggled and forced his way inside. He pushed himself into me, inch by inch, deeper and deeper, until he filled me as tight as a hand fills a latex glove. I grabbed his head, squeezing him every time he thrust inside me. And I cried, jerked, and talked about things that didn’t make any sense.

  “Ooohhhhh, baby, you give good love, Aaron, you know that, ouch, ohhh, hurts so good. Oh, I love how you feel inside me, don’t ever leave me, ouch, ouch, ouch, that felt good.”

  My orgasm rewound itself at least four times. And for the first time I didn’t let out a bloodcurdling scream. I melted while he held me, felt like two separate bodies merged into one, a singular unit, with nothing more to come between us.

  As we collapsed in each other’s arms, I could say with assurance that the New Year definitely started out with a bang.

  THE REST OF JANUARY FLOWED like a river. Lauren returned from Georgia. I gave her the gifts and her attitude was distant, but at least she was still speaking to me. Like we’d previously agreed, Aaron no longer came by the apartment. He’d taken to calling me at my job, and I’d have to rush and close my office door so we could get our love jones on. W
e’d talk on the phone a couple times a day, and I’d see him twice a week. Sometimes at his place, other times at a restaurant or a scaled-down Marriott, when I had the time and the funds.

  I tried not to mention Aaron when in Lauren’s presence. She just threw herself into her schoolwork, still going to band rehearsals, photography workshop, hanging out with Regis, and keeping to herself. Some nights she wouldn’t come home at all, but I’d call Regis and that’s where she’d be, which was fine with me. I enjoyed the solitude, felt more relaxed, and was free to talk to Aaron on the phone without being forced to steal away to my walk-in closet.

  One night my stomach lurched with violence. I clutched it and squeezed a few times, hoping that would ease my discomfort. And even after it seemed my health was on the upswing, moments later I’d rush to sit on the toilet, flush, and return to my room, just to have to jump out of the bed and race back to the bathroom. When it seemed it was safe to go out, I decided to make a quick trip to the twenty-four-hour Walgreen’s. It was around ten-thirty and I was sleepy, but I threw on some jogging pants, slapped a golf cap on my head, and jumped in the Malibu.

  If you were to base your judgment on all the cars that were in the parking lot, you could assume that Walgreen’s was having a late-night dollar sale. As I walked toward the entrance, I heard a man loudly singing, “Float, float on. Float on. Float on.” I looked up and saw a short, three-hundred-pound Chinese dude singing the Floaters’ biggest hit. He was snapping his fingers and saw me looking at him. The dude winked and I gave him the black-power sign and rushed into the store.

  Once I’d selected some diarrhea medicine, I decided to search for a greeting card for a coworker whose birthday was coming up. On the way there, I passed by the aisle where all the baby food, diapers, and infant products are stocked. I saw just one shopper in the aisle, but the profile of the person made me do a double-take.

  I was surprised yet not surprised to see him there. At first I started to keep on going and act like I didn’t see him, but changed my mind. When I walked up to him, he didn’t notice me. His knees were bent and his shoulders inclined forward while he examined the shelves.