by B. M. Hardin
And there it goes…
There goes the sign.
There’s goes the big red flag.
And one red flag was all that I needed.
See, some women fail to see the signs when they are clearly already there.
They try to write them off as coincidences or maybe he’s telling the truth, but not me.
I always paid attention, to everything, and if there was something there for me to see, you had better believe that I was going to see it.
I always read the warning labels, first, before getting into something that my heart might not be able to get me out of.
To date, though I’d dated many men, I’d never truly been in love.
I’d been in strong like a time or two, but never had I been deeply and fully in love.
There was just always something that I would see ahead of time, before going there…and I would always be right.
So, I’d do us both a favor and save myself the headache, heartache and maybe even a trip to jail or to the clinic, if it would have even gotten that far, by removing myself from the equation.
To me, it was just that simple.
So as for Vick, just like that, my mind was now programmed to say…Vick who?
And once my mind was made up about a man, there wasn’t a thing that he could do to change it.
Hell, he even called me you instead of saying my name.
Dead giveaway that he was in the presence of someone that he couldn’t address me properly in front of.
Did he think that I was stupid?
He would have come out better by just not answering my phone call. At least it would have still given him a little lead way for some type of chance.
I headed to delete Vick’s number, but decided that I should let him spend the two weeks that I was out off of work on the block list.
That way I didn’t make the mistake of answering his number.
There was nothing that I needed to say to him, over the phone that is, and there was surely nothing else that he had to say to me.
But best believe as soon as I saw him, I was going to tell him not to waste anymore of my time and to stay the hell out of my space and definitely out of my face.
Honestly, I wasn’t disappointed.
If anything, I was thankful that the sign had shown up when it had and that I hadn’t had to waste much of my time.
Like I said, the man for me was still out there.
I guess Vick just wasn’t him.
Thinking only a second longer, finally, I shrugged my shoulders, threw my phone down on the couch and headed to my bedroom to relieve some of my frustrations.
Why couldn’t every man be like my Bo?
***
“What about him?”
“Nope, he’s faking. He’s a liar---and he’s broke.”
“How can you tell all of that just by looking at him?”
“His suit is a knock off, and he’s wearing a watch that’s shining so bright from the fake diamonds that they seemed to be striving to take over the Sun’s position. He’s lying about who he is to fit in with the men that he thinks those men are; which makes him a liar. Oh, and did I mention that he’s broke,” I concluded with a smirk, paid for my vanilla expresso and walked out of the shop with Delilah hot on my trail.
“You don’t know that.”
“Know what? Oh, the suit was definitely a knock off and I’ve seen enough real watches to know what a fake one looks like,” I giggled.
Whether she wanted to admit it or not, she knew that more than likely…I was right.
“Well, everyone can’t be at the same pay rate as you, you know,” my assistant Delilah responded as though her comment had come from a personal place in her heart.
“I don’t expect them to be. But I was taught that men are the providers, and that’s what I expect them to do. Even if I do make more than him, I have to know that if times get tough he can play his role and provide for us all on his own. Is that too much to ask?” I said as we walked into the work building.
“In this day in time? Maybe.”
We chatted for a few minutes more and then went our separate ways.
No sooner than I’d turned the corner there he was.
Vick.
“I’ve been calling you back to back, since that night that you called, but you never picked up,” he proclaimed.
I just stared at him silently.
“So, what happened? Did you get busy or something? How was your vacation?”
I took a deep breath.
“Vick, look, don’t call me again. Better yet don’t even speak to me unless it is work related. Thanks,” I waved at him as I turned and walked away.
Once inside of my office, immediately, I found my phone and deleted his number.
No need for blocking him anymore.
I’m sure that I’d made myself crystal clear.
I hadn’t given him a chance to say anything because there was nothing from him that I needed to hear.
He could just move on to the next woman.
Maybe she wouldn’t mind being his side piece.
Sitting the phone down on my desk, I frowned at the amount of paper work stacked in neat, medium sized piles in front of me.
Two and a half weeks of vacation hadn’t been long enough. The days had been spent doing much of nothing but I felt as though I needed just a few more days.
I loved my job I really did, but taking my first vacation in what seemed like forever, reminded me that even I needed a break sometimes.
And I would definitely be taking a break here or there a lot more often.
With a full day ahead of me, I took off my blazer and took a sip of my Heaven in a cup.
Okay, let’s do this…
The day went by painfully slow and I couldn’t wait until the clock struck five o’clock.
I usually stayed late, but that just wasn’t going to happen today.
I’d taken care of every item that was on my desk and this chick here was exhausted!
Grabbing my things, I ran out of the office…literally.
Vick saw me heading out the door and looked like he wanted to head in my direction, but if he knew what was best for him he would just keep it moving.
I didn’t need any excuses or explanations.
Trust me, none were needed and there wasn’t a thing that he could say that would make me give him another chance.
Nine times out of ten, he was already involved with someone else and that was his business---and absolutely none of mine.
But instead of being up front about it, he was just like some men.
He’d rather have his cake and eat it to.
But I was the wrong woman to try and run game on.
I was one of the few women who knew her worth and I wasn’t afraid to be alone until someone was willing to give me the love that I deserved.
Nice try though.
Safely in my car, I was driving in silence, and thinking about love.
I suddenly thought about going to see my mother.
My mother, Sadie, was, well…she was something I tell you.
She was a woman of so many strengths but she only had one weakness.
My father.
As surprising as it may sound, especially because of their beliefs, my parents actually divorced my last year of high school.
To be honest, I think that the divorce was actually the start of my rebellion.
I’d always been taught that marriage was supposed to be until death, and that divorce was frowned upon, but then one day, my mother did the unthinkable.
She sat everything that my father owned on the other side of our front door.
The funny thing was…he didn’t give a damn.
He hadn’t even had the nerve to come and get his things, instead he sent my uncle.
To think about it, he’d never made the attempt to come to the house, he’d talked to my mother about the situation over the phone.
But mama didn’t want
to hear anything that he had to say.
She divorced his ass.
Though it wasn’t exactly what I’d been preached all of my life, I couldn’t blame her.
My father had been messing around on her with a lady from the church for years.
Of course I saw the signs, but my mother refused to believe that my father was capable of something like that until the woman’s husband, Deacon Davis, knocked on our front door.
He’d said the most interesting thing that day.
The Deacon found it strange that his wife was now twelve weeks pregnant again, but the problem was that due to dealing with a few issues regarding Crons Disease, he’d said that he hadn’t even touched her in over six months.
Unable to deny the obvious, she confessed to the affair with my father and the Deacon had come to inform my mother.
I remembered it as if it had only happened yesterday.
The look on my mother’s face was so full of disappointment. The pain in her eyes that day was a vision that I would remember for a lifetime.
She was so, so sad, while on the other hand I couldn’t believe that she’d missed it.
My father rarely touched her or even looked at her. I strongly believed that he was trying his best to stay around because of his beliefs and because of us, their five kids, but I guess his flesh won a few battles that his mind and heart had always told him that he could conquer.
With no hesitation, my mother divorced him and he moved on quickly with a new wife and a new baby. Today, my father, stepmother slash the Deacon’s ex-wife, and my twelve year old brother, lived far away somewhere out in Texas.
We never saw him, and rarely heard from him since he’d moved away.
It used to bother us all quite a bit; he was our father and had always been around. But somewhere, after some time, we all simply stopped caring.
I know for me, I most times just pretended that he was dead. It made it easier for me to cope with.
My mother, on the other hand, after the divorce, turned her focus back to religion and nearly drove herself insane.
Literally.
Over the years, the combination of heartache and religion had drove her mind to some place far away, and no matter what we tried, we couldn’t get her to come back to us.
So, on the income of three of her five children, she was now in a very expensive hospital as they called it, where they were trying to help her get back on track.
But for the amount of bucks that it was costing us, it just didn’t seem to be working.
Though I faithfully paid my share and though I wasn’t my mothers’ biggest fan, I’d always wanted her to live with me.
I wanted to take care of her.
In a way, I thought that it would be beneficial to the both of us but the doctors insisted that the hospital was in her best interest.
I hated to see her like that and here lately it was as though the medicines had her so spaced out that she hardly recognized any of us these days.
I had two older sisters, one older and one younger brother as well; not including the brother that my father and his mistress produced.
All of my siblings were married, with kids, and either doing average or pretty damn good for themselves.
I was the only one still searching for that someone special and hopefully that special guy was still searching for me.
Concluding my thoughts about my family, I decided that calling my mother instead of going by to see her was just as valid, since she probably wouldn’t even know who I was.
Making a mental note to call her once I was home and settled, I headed to the grocery store instead.
Since I lived alone and rarely had company, I ate out most of the time but I could cook like nobody’s business. I could whip up a nice, home-cooked meal with little to nothing; quick, fast and in a hurry.
But I rarely got the opportunity to show off my skills.
That is one thing, other than Jesus, that my mother had managed to teach me.
I could remember being able to fry a piece of chicken to perfection at only eight years old. I could bake almost anything from scratch by the time that I was ten.
Here lately, I had been craving meatloaf, so I figured that it was about time that I made me one, even though half of it would probably go to waste.
As soon as I started to push the cart, I realized that maybe I should have gone home to change first, or at least changed my shoes.
The four inch suede pumps weren’t exactly fit for the task of grocery shopping, but I was going to tough it out and get it over with as fast as I could.
“Let me guess, you don’t own a pair of sneakers?” he said.
Actually, he was right, I didn’t, but instead of answering him, I turned to face him and grinned.
“Mike.”
“Tori.”
“Single?”
“Guess.”
“Smart ass?”
“Mostly.”
He couldn’t help but to laugh.
Quickly I appraised him from top to bottom.
He was casually dressed, neatly groomed, and he smelled good too.
He surely wasn’t the finest man that I’d ever seen, but his smile was hypnotizing and so for the time being, he had my attention.
For the next few minutes, Mike, followed me around the grocery store, like a dog in heat.
I listened to the way that he talked and to his vocabulary and I concluded that he had to be well educated; either that or he had been raised by parents that were.
His sense of humor was refreshing and I enjoyed the fact that he looked at my eyes more than he looked at my breasts.
Hmm…we might be on to something.
Once we were both finished shopping, he carried my bags and his outside.
Nice gesture, though if he’d really wanted to impress me, he would have paid for them too.
But I wasn’t complaining.
He loaded my bags into the car and I smiled at him.
“So, I take Visa or MasterCard for my services. I only take debit. Don’t write me a check because it might bounce,” he smiled.
Never.
Never would my check bounce.
I couldn’t help but smile at him.
He was definitely funny.
“Well, if you don’t want to pay me, I guess your number will do. I mean since you put me to work and all, it’s only fair that I get something out of the deal right?” he asked.
Boy did I love a man that could keep a smile on my face.
I continued to beam as I reached out my hand for him to place his cell phone in it but…
“Oh, I don’t have phone right now. I have to pay the bill when I get paid on next week. I can call you off my folk’s house phone though. Can you write it down on a piece of paper for me?” he said.
I forced myself to keep smiling and I tried my best to hide my disappointment, but I was only able to keep it together for all of three seconds.
If he couldn’t pay a cell phone bill, on time, what on earth was he going to do with a woman like me?
Maybe it was a little shallow, but I didn’t want to waste his time and I definitely didn’t want him wasting mine.
What I needed was a real man.
And anything less than just wouldn’t do.
Instead of reaching for a pen and paper, just as he started to talk again, I rolled up my car window and without looking in his direction, I proceeded to drive off.
I rolled my eyes at the sight of him in my rearview mirror, standing with his hands up in the air.
The nerve of him!
He was old enough to know that you don’t approach a woman like me if you don’t have all of your ducks in a row.
I exhaled loudly and turned up my radio.
Thank you God for the signs…
**********
Chapter Two
“Did anyone ever tell you that you work too much?” Hunter, my boss, asked.
Hunter was a sexy, arrogant white guy, in his lat
e forties.
He made twice my salary, yet he didn’t have half of my intelligence or do half of the work that I did.
I was ten times better at the job than he was but he had been there twice as long as I had.
Hunter was married with kids---and he had a mistress.
The funny thing was, his wife walked around smiling as if she’d won the lottery or something but the reality was…she was just plain stupid.
She believed everything that he told her when all she really had to do was open her pretty blue eyes and see him for the scumbag that he really was.
Why was everyone so afraid of the truth?
The truth, to me, was better than a lie on any given day.
Why live your life full of lies when you could live a life of truth and honesty?
I just didn’t see the joy in that.
From the very beginning, years ago at my interview, I knew that he was scandalous.
The way that he talked and chuckled after he thought that he’d said something funny or flattering. From the way that he licked his lips, slyly grinned and looked at me out of the corners of his eyes when he thought that I wasn’t paying any attention.
Not only did he have all of the signs of a cheater but also those of a stalker or maybe even a serial killer.
But hey, what do I know?
But I wasn’t sure if his wife even cared that he serviced other women in his spare time.
She seemed to be all about the money anyway.
It’s amazing how people will choose stability and comfort over love and respect.
I will never understand.
There wasn’t enough money in the world for me to allow a man to cheat on me, knowingly, and use me at his disposal.
I just couldn’t do it.
After small talk and once his late in the evening phone call came through as always, my boss excused himself from my office, and I was left there alone.
I worked until my eyes told me that if I didn’t leave at that very moment, I would be spending the night in my office again.
Walking out of my office, I heard the sound of an angel.
The night janitor was busy at work and singing like nobody’s business.
The tone of his voice was so rich that it almost sent me into a trance. He could sing the average woman right out of her panties.
Luckily, I wasn’t average.