Fool and Her Honey (9781622860791)

by Matthews, Kimberly T.

  “I know, right?”

  “But, look, what are you going to say when she asks you to be in the wedding? Because you know she’s going to ask,” I said. We were Candis’s best friends, so I was sure she’d be asking us to be bridesmaids.

  “They probably won’t have a wedding. I can’t see them having one. It will probably be a justice of the peace thing like E and I did, if that.”

  “Are they planning on living here, or is she going to go out there?”

  “She said she’s moving to Baltimore,” Celeste replied. “If she knows like I know, she better stay here, where she can get to some help if she needs it.”

  “I know that’s right. You know how abusers do. They isolate you first, then go to whippin’ your ass!” We both paused, pensive.

  “She’s going to snap to her senses,” Celeste finally said, but she didn’t really look like she believed what she’d said.

  “Marriage is hard enough all by itself without adding all this extra drama to it. Trust me—”

  “Wait a minute,” Celeste interrupted. “He didn’t have the money to fly out here and propose like a real man?”

  “Nope.”

  “So if he ain’t got the money for a plane ticket, how in the world he got the money to take care of a wife?”

  “Exactly. That’s what I was thinking. She’d be a fool to marry a broke-ass man, then move all the way across the country to live with him,” I shot.

  “Well, you can’t live anyone’s life but your own. I just hope he don’t kill her,” Celeste observed.

  “We need to do something to talk her out of this mess.”

  “Something like what?”

  “What happened with her and Hamilton? Maybe we need to try to hook them up again,” I suggested.

  “I don’t think they ever kicked things off. The chemistry wasn’t there.” Celeste twisted a finger into her hair, pulled on the coil and let it spring back toward her head. “Well, I take that back. She gave him some of her hot chocolate, and he went on about his business.”

  “What about Russell?”

  “Engaged Russell?” Celeste asked. “She just told us she dissed him.”

  “That’s just for now. You know she loves him. We’re gonna have to try to hook them up again.”

  “Yeah, right. And Candis would be mad at us for the rest of our lives,” she said, pulling on more strands of hair.

  “So? At least she’d still have a life to be mad about. It’s worth a try. You know how sex with the ex can be. It might be just the thing she needs to come to her senses.”

  “Sex? See, you’re going too far. Do you think his fiancée is going to agree to all that, just to keep Candis from marrying some pervert? She better be glad she doesn’t have any kids, because he’s probably a pedophile.” Celeste stretched her eyes to emphasize her point. “But still it’s not our place to try to control her relationship or mess up Russell’s engagement. I’m still trippin’ off the part that he mailed her the ring instead of coming to meet her. What kind of mess is that? Who ever heard of mailing somebody an engagement ring?”

  Really Celeste couldn’t talk, because Equanto hadn’t put so much as a rubber band around her finger.

  “Where did she say he worked at again?” I twisted my own engagement ring around my finger. “At a gas station, right?”

  “Yeah, pumping gas and washing windows. He doesn’t even have a good job. I don’t mean no harm, but Candis needs some help.”

  “She need something!” I agreed with her.

  “She needs to take it from me. Starting off on the wrong foot is not fun. She better learn how to appreciate her singleness and stay single,” Celeste threw in, thinking about her own godforsaken marriage.

  “We’re never satisfied with where we are, because the grass always looks greener on the other side.” I shook my head. “You know every single person wants someone to cuddle up with at night.”

  “Yeah and every married person is wondering what the hell were they thinking when they got married in the first place.”

  “Can’t live with ’em, can’t live without ’em.”

  “You got that right. I’d trade places with Candis in a minute to be single again.” Celeste paused for a few seconds but decided to switch the subject before she fell into a depression behind Equanto and his drama. “So what’s going on with you and Bertrand?”

  “Please don’t even get me started, Celeste. I’m trying to enjoy my evening.”

  Celeste was shocked to hear me respond that way. To her, Bertrand and I made the perfect couple, despite typical ups and downs.

  “I’m just asking. I know you said y’all were going through a little something, but I didn’t know it was like that.”

  “It’s not just a little something.” I shook my head and looked away. “I’m just about ready to break our engagement,” I added, looking like I had a hard time forming the words and letting them leave my mouth.

  “Girl, stop lying.”

  “I’m serious. I can’t keep living my life being miserable, and I don’t see how it’s going to work out between us. I tried to get him to go to premarital counseling, and we went to one session and he quit. Didn’t want to go anymore. I try talking to him, but he doesn’t want to talk, so what am I supposed to do?”

  “You’re supposed to try to work it out.”

  “I’ve tried to work it out. I don’t know what else I can do, and I’m tired of letting him ride my body but not work on our relationship, while I wash his nasty drawers, cook dinner, and keep the house clean. That’s why he ain’t got no coochie in almost two months now.”

  “Two months!” Celeste gasped.

  “Yep. Two months.”

  “Dina, you know you can’t put that man on sex restriction like that and think things are going to get better.”

  “Why can’t I? Explain to me how it’s right for him to get what he wants, pussy on demand, and I get nothing but hurt feelings. How exactly does that work?” My voice escalated, as my anger grew.

  “Oh snap! You’re mad for real huh?” Celeste paused and grinned while I silently scowled. “You didn’t say kitty kat, Tootsie Pop or goody box like you normally say; you said pussy! You shonuff mad!” she chortled.

  She was right, I was completely fed up. “But you have to know you’re playing a dangerous game by not fulfilling that very important part of your duties.”

  “We aren’t married, so I don’t have any duties,” I argued. “And even when I was fulfilling them, he snuck out here and decided to screw around.”

  “Did anything come out of the counseling?”

  “I just told you, we only went to one session. Nothing came out of that except how much of a liar he is, sitting in there, acting like he was clueless as to why we were there, wouldn’t admit any fault, just sitting there, looking dumb in the face. That’s such an insult.”

  “So what did the counselor say?”

  “What could he say when nothing of substance was being said? I expressed what my issues were—that I thought he was a controlling cheater—and Bertrand didn’t say much of anything, even when the counselor posed questions.”

  “I know he just didn’t sit in there and just stare at the man,” Celeste replied.

  “He might as well have, for all he said. ‘I’ve not done anything wrong. Dina believes what she wants to believe, ’” I said, trying to mock Bertrand’s voice. “I just can’t do it, girl. The towel is in my hand and ready to be thrown in. I mean, we’re not married, so why struggle with something I don’t have to deal with at all? We’ve not made any solid commitments or taken any vows. As a matter of fact, all I’m doing is living in sin. Why should I sit up here and risk going to hell for a shabby, ragtag relationship?”

  Celeste sighed. “Just make sure that you think things through before you make any decisions.”

  “I have thought things through.”

  “Have you told Bertrand that you want to end things?”

  “Yeah I have.” I
dropped my head like I was scared or ashamed.

  “So why haven’t you moved on if that’s what you want to do?” Celeste challenged.

  “I don’t know, and there are some parts of me that are uncomfortable with that. I think some of it is fear.”

  “So in other words, you haven’t made up your mind about what you want.”

  “I guess not,” I said, sulking.

  “You know that’s not fair to Bertrand.”

  “I’m not concerned about what’s fair to him right now. What he did wasn’t fair to me. What he did didn’t consider me, regard me, honor me, or respect me,” I said almost growling.

  “So is it your plan to just try to make him miserable?”

  “Am I supposed to be miserable just so he can be happy? Is that what you’re suggesting, Celeste?” I questioned with an attitude.

  “No, I’m not saying that. I’m just saying, nobody is perfect. You are going to have to deal with something no matter who you choose to be involved with, and I really don’t think Bertrand is all that bad. He’s a good man.”

  “Good in what way?” I rolled my eyes.

  “Hell! In what way is he not good? So what if he wants to hear from you all day and all that jazz? That mess is petty. He keeps a job and pays the bills. And all you gotta do is give him some extra attention. I’d trade Equanto for Bertand any day and do whatever he asked me to do. Cook, clean, drop it like it’s hot, let him know where I’m at twenty-four hours a day. Girl, you are seriously trippin’.”

  “You’re forgetting about how he cheated on me.”

  “So he made a mistake.” Celeste shrugged. “It was one time. We all make mistakes. Forgive him, let it go, and move on.”

  “It’s not that easy, Celeste. I don’t know that it was one time. As far as I know, it could still be going on.”

  “Girl, please. I’d marry that man so quick, and if I found out he was cheating on me, he’d really be taking care of me, ’cause I’d divorce his ass, take half his stuff, and collect alimony.”

  “Not everybody wants to willingly put themselves through potential heartbreak,” I noted.

  “And obviously, not everybody recognizes a good man when he’s right in the palm of her hand.”

  Chapter 25

  Dina

  When I got back from Celeste’s house, after being hit with the shocking news that Candis was planning on marrying SeanMichael, and feeling confused about how to move forward-or not-with Bertrand, it was after ten, so to see Bertrand sitting on the front porch was unusual. His presence startled me initially, as I didn’t expect his silhouette to appear in the dark. The porch light was off, and he just sat in silence, looking crazy in the face.

  “Hey, babe,” I said, walking up onto the porch.

  “Hey,” he said flatly.

  “What are you doing out here? You scared me.”

  “Just thinking.”

  “Thinking about what? And why are you thinking out here in the dark?”

  “Just needed some fresh air.”

  “Oh, okay. So what are you thinking about?”

  “A little bit of everything.” He kept his eyes focused forward, and his arms were folded across his chest.

  “Like what?”

  “Like why didn’t you answer your phone when I called you?” His voice was low and even.

  “Because I’d left it in the car to charge.” That wasn’t wholly true. I had left it in the car to charge, but after thirty minutes, I’d retrieved it. When I saw I’d missed Bertrand’s call three times, I didn’t bother to return it, knowing that he was going to act like he was acting at the moment . . . nasty. I figured I’d rather deal with it once I got home than have it ruin the evening with my girls, but I did call him once I’d gotten in the car and started for home. It did no good because he hadn’t answered.

  “You left it in there the whole time?”

  “Yes,” I lied. “I didn’t need it while I was sitting in the house.”

  “So what was I supposed to think?”

  “What were you supposed to think about what?”

  “About my wife being out late and not answering her phone,” he said, cutting his eyes at me.

  I use to love it when he called me his wife but now I didn’t want to hear it. It made me cringe inside. “You were supposed to think that I was at Celeste’s house, like I told you. Why were you calling me, anyway? What was wrong?”

  “I wanted to make sure nothing had happened to you, since you didn’t call me and let me know you made it over there safely,” he snapped.

  “Bertrand, if something had happened to me, someone would have called you. Me, the police, the paramedics, the hospital, my momma, Candis, Celeste, somebody!” I said, throwing my hands in the air.

  “So you couldn’t be considerate enough to call me and let me know everything was all right?”

  “I didn’t realize there were required checkpoints set up for me, like I’m some kind of teenager. I thought I was grown.” My tone was still calm, although I was becoming irritated.

  “And you being grown does not negate the fact that you should be accountable to me. What are you going to do once we are married? As a married woman, why do you have a problem with letting your husband know where you are?”

  “I told you where I was going two hours ago, when I left, Bertrand.”

  “Yeah. That was two hours ago. Then you don’t answer your phone, and that’s supposed to be okay,” he said with sarcastic scorn.

  “When I called you back, you didn’t answer your phone, either, so it sounds like to me, the pot is calling the kettle black.”

  “But I’m sitting at home. You were out in the streets.”

  “So the rule is, if you are sitting at home, you don’t have to answer your phone? Is that what you’re saying?” He didn’t answer, probably realizing how stupid that sounded. “This is crazy. I’m going in the house.” I pushed the front door open, leaving Bertrand sitting on the porch by himself, and headed to bed.

  A full hour passed before he came back inside, fumbled around in the kitchen, from what I could hear, then came to the bedroom. My back was turned to him as I pretended to be asleep, but I listened as he showered, then got in bed beside me but made sure that our bodies didn’t touch.

  All this over a missed phone call? Whatever, I thought to myself and drifted off to sleep.

  The next morning Bertrand woke me up by pressing his manhood into my backside and kissing my left shoulder.

  “Babe, you up?” he whispered. When I didn’t answer, although I’d heard and felt him, he pressed his hips forward and wrapped his arm around my waist. “Dina,” he called.

  “I’m up,” I mumbled.

  Bertrand knew that I hated to be awakened from my sleep for sex, and most of the time he respected my request that he not do that. The fact that he woke me up regardless of that meant he was really horny and would bug me until I gave in. I sighed because I just couldn’t help it, then rolled over on my back to let him in. Bertrand wasted no time shifting his weight atop my frame and burying his face into my neck. After a few seconds of fumbling around, trying to get himself correctly positioned, he held his breath as he eased into my body, then exhaled a moan. Slowly, he rocked his hips, then settled into a smooth cadence that woke up my insides. Wrapping my legs around his waist, I pulled him closer to me and worked my hips upward to meet his stroke.

  “Oh, baby,” he panted, speeding up his movements. “Girl, you feel amazing!” he gasped, tucking his head down to lap at my nipples, causing me to arch my back and caress his head, encouraging him to continue.

  “Mmm,” I moaned into his ear as I stroked his back with my other hand. Even when I didn’t feel like engaging, Bertrand always brought me to the point where I enjoyed it immensely, sleepy or not. On his way to the finish line, he bore into me with more aggression, gripping my shoulders and breathing heavily into my ear. “Yeah . . . that’s it, baby,” I whispered. “That’s it.”

  Unable to hold bac
k, Bertrand’s body contracted as he released and exhaled several times in satisfaction. “I love you, baby,” he murmured, rising and falling against my chest and planting kisses on my right shoulder. “I love you, Dina.”

  Hearing him whisper those words with such sincerity after we made love always brought tears to my eyes. Those words would remind me of all that was missing in my prior relationships, then erase the pain of those memories of not feeling loved or wanted. They always brought healing to some inner part of me that still remembered what it felt like to be rejected, stepped on, and played for a fool. His words humbled me, because I thought Bertrand meant every word, and my heart was overwhelmed by his love, and by the fact that he found me worthy to share his love with. It was during one of those whispered moments that I fell in love with Bertrand.

  Now I lay there crying, because I couldn’t believe that he’d betrayed me by sharing himself with someone else. While Bertrand felt amazing physically, emotionally I was in turmoil. I didn’t know what to do. Forge ahead in forgiveness and believe that he honestly and truly loved me, or shut the door on this whole thing.

  With Bertrand’s weight still keeping me pinned to the mattress, I thought about what Celeste had said, and tried to weigh the pros and cons of staying with Bertrand and going through with our wedding plans. Maybe I was making too much of whatever had happened, and honestly, I couldn’t prove anything. The panties could have been old. The texts could have meant nothing. And Bertrand did apologize for how he’d made me feel. I guess that had to count for something.

  Then I thought about his controlling behaviors. They were irritating, but were they completely intolerable? He could definitely teach me a few things about managing my finances if I just humbled myself a little bit and followed his lead. We got along for the most part . . . well, as long as I played by his rules. They weren’t really that bad, were they? Call to let him know I was okay, check with him before spending cash, try a little harder to meet his expectations. I mean, they weren’t completely unreasonable. We could make this work. Celeste was right. No one was perfect, and I needed to recognize that I had a good man and embrace him, flaws and all.