by Jewel Daniel
Tamara sat at the table, and the kids finally settled. Jordan took over spooning green mush into Kadeem's mouth. Soon Becky returned with a plate stacked with ackee and saltfish over large white dumplings.
It was delicious. "I see you've learned to cook island style," Tamara said slyly to Becky.
Becky responded, "When the madam was here a few months ago, she insisted that I learn to feed Jordan like a real Jamaican man. So she taught me to prepare ackee and saitfish, callaloo, fungi, cow foot soup, curried goat, oxtail and Manish water. She doesn't realize how expensive those things are at the Caribbean Market. For the six years we've been married, Jordan was quite content with my soul food, but now he keeps hinting that he wants Jamaican food."
Tamara laughed. Becky always referred to Jordan's mother as "the madam." In the first few years of their marriage, Jordan had a hard time balancing Becky's needs with his mother's demands. It made for a strained relationship between Becky and Jordan's mother. Things changed for the better when his mother returned to Jamaica to take care of his grandmother, who had a stroke.
"What brings you here tonight all dressed up?" Jordan asked. "Since your husband moved in, I haven't seen you much at all."
"No fault of mine," Tamara responded. "Becky and the kids see me often. If you didn't work so much, you would too."
"True," Becky concurred.
"Mon, I tell you, you work harder when you own your own business than when you working for someone else," he said, his Jamaican accent showing through.
"Talking about work, I got a job!"
"Congratulations!" they both said in unison and high-fived her. The kids each came around to give Tamara high-fives too. They had no idea what was going on, but they had to be part of the fun.
"Where?" asked Becky.
"It's at Independent Laboratories."
Jordan asked, "Isn't that Kwabena's company?"
"So I've heard. I guess it really isn't what you know but who you know," Tamara responded with a smile.
They finished eating and cleared the table. "I'll clean up," Tamara volunteered.
"You're a guest here," said Becky. "Let Jordan take care of it."
"Oh please, I'm here so often I practically live here."
"Jordan's not getting off the hook that easy. Cleaning the kitchen is the only work he does around here. His mother wants him fed like a `big man,' so he's got to prove he is a big man and clean the kitchen like one." Becky shot Jordan a glance.
He walked over and whispered in her ear. She giggled like a schoolgirl, and he slapped her butt.
"Kids," she called. "Who wants a bubble bath?"
The three older ones came running, screaming, "Me!" Becky shooed them upstairs and walked up behind them with a food-covered Kadeem on her hip.
Tamara and Jordan set about cleaning the kitchen together. They worked in companionable silence. That was what she loved about being with Jordan. They could be silent together or they could be chatting up a storm, it was still comfortable. He was as close as she got to a brother and she was as close as he got to a sister. Not that he lacked siblings. His father, who never left Jamaica, had a wife and five younger children, all of them boys.
"Ok, what's on your mind? "Jordan's question caught her off guard.
"Nothing except work tomorrow."
"You're not fooling me, Tammy. You just got a job after a year out of work and a million and one interviews. You should be excited, jumping through the roof. Instead you look sad, even a little hurt."
"You're imagining things," Tamara denied.
"I'm not. Something happened between you and Kwabena?"
Jordan always read her like a nursery rhyme. Tamara was silent.
"You're falling for him aren't you?"
Tamara wiped her brow with a soapy hand. "I don't know," she surrendered with a sigh. "I'm such an idiot. I allowed myself to get carried away, and now I feel like such a fool."
Jordan stopped drying the dishes and looked at her expectantly, waiting for the details.
"We kissed... and I'm not talking about a casual peck on the cheek." Tamara looked up at Jordan as he resumed drying the dishes. "You don't seem surprised."
"I'm not. I knew there was that risk when he moved in with you. Kwabena is honorable, but he is an attractive man and his reputation with the ladies is not much of a secret. The prettier the better."
"I wouldn't quite describe myself as pretty."
"That's because you've got self-esteem issues," Jordan dismissed. "I've told you before, you are a beautiful woman, no matter what you think."
Tamara sighed. "How could I be so stupid? Yesterday we shared this wonderful intimate moment and I thought it means as much to him as it did to me. I allowed myself to feel things that I haven't felt since Jared. Today I walk in on him in the arms of another woman in my house. I'm an idiot. I'm a magnet for dishonest creeps."
Jordan gave her a bear hug. "I'm sorry I got you into this. The last thing I want is to see you hurt again. Besides his reputation with women, which may or may not be exaggerated, Kwabena is a nice and relatively honest guy. Just promise me you'll be careful. Else, he'll answer to me."
When Tamara returned, she heard Kwabena in the kitchen. She tried sneaking past him and up to her room when she heard him ask, "What was it you were trying to tell me earlier?"
She sighed and walked into the kitchen. "I got the job."
"Good. This calls for a celebration," he said exuberantly. "Let's break out the champagne."
"I don't drink," she said cooly.
"How about those chilled bottles of apple cider in the wine cabinet?"
"I'm tired. I don't feel like celebrating right now." "What's the matter?" He was standing so close to her, Tamara felt she could not breathe. He reached out and embraced her, drawing her to him. It took all her willpower not to submit to the warmth of his body next to hers, or to place her head on his chest and let herself go. But Tamara knew better. She'd suffered enough at the hands of one man. She wasn't going to risk making the same mistake.
Tamara placed her hands between them, gently shoving him away. "Let's be clear. What happened between us last night was a temporary lapse in judgment. I'm sorry I led you on like that. I promise it won't happen again." Before he had a chance to respond, she quickly turned and ran upstairs.
Kwabena realized she'd seen him with Afie and jumped to the wrong conclusion. "Tammy, you don't understand," he called after her. He heard the door to her bedroom suite slammed. He knew nothing he said to her now would make a difference. He was quickly learning that like Edebe, she was quick to anger.
He sighed. So they shared a few kisses. He'd shared more than that with women who never interpreted it as monogamous commitment. It was only a kiss.
Then why the hell do I feel like I've lost my best friend?
True to her word, Darlene became a regular visitor to Tamara's house. Once there, with the pretense of visiting her favorite (and only) first cousin, she flirted with Kwabena, who enjoyed the admiration of a beautiful woman. After the second week, Darlene no longer needed Tamara as an excuse to visit. She visited Kwabena in his basement apartment.
For Tamara it was hell. She avoided Kwabena as much as she could. She did not want to have any part with that philanderer. Each time she ate alone in her sitting room before the TV, she longed for the shared dinners and casual conversations. She missed hearing him talk about his Ghanaian heritage or the many places he traveled. She missed the camaraderie that they shared as they prepared meals. She had to admitshe was lonely.
Kwabena, however, was anything but lonely. He had no shortage of friends. She often heard him with guests downstairs laughing and talking. One Saturday night at about eleven she heard familiar laughter. When she looked out the window, Kwabena was escorting Darlene into his apartment. Tamara steeled herself and went back to watching television.
Only her job kept her from despair. She enjoyed the fast pace of the work. She liked Mike and the camaraderie of the postdoctoral
fellows and technicians in the lab. According to Mike, there were three kinds of workers: the nine-to-fivers go-home-to-your-wifers, the twenty-four-seven all-around-the-clockers, and the ten-to-whenever happy-hour winers.
For the first time since she began work a month ago, Tamara accepted the happy-hour winers' invitation to go to the Friday five o'clock happy hour at a local watering hole. She, of course, was the designated driver as she never touched alcohol, due to her extreme sensitivity. It took only a small amount for her to get drunk and make a total fool of herself. Consequently, she was content to sip on virgin daiquiris and diet colas while the others got wasted. It was not something she enjoyed, especially having to chauffeur so many people home.
It was after nine when she arrived home. She'd stopped by the grocery on her way and done her weekly shopping. As she entered, she heard Darlene's deep, throaty, seductive laugh coming from the kitchen. Tamara took a deep breath and entered the kitchen. Darlene was standing, her hands deep in a bowl kneading flour. Kwabena stood behind her, hands around her waist reaching into the same bowl. They were both laughing. The sight of them together like that disgusted Tamara.
"Tammy, dear," Darlene sang in her sweetest voice as she glanced up at her. "Kwabena is showing me how to make puff-puffs, but we're low on cooking oil. Can you be a darling and run to the grocery store?"
Tamara ignored her question and headed to the freezer where she placed the frozen goods.
"We'll make do with what we have," Kwabena said.
Darlene pressed the issue. "I'm sure Tammy won't mind. Would you, Tammy?"
"Yes, I mind," Tamara said sharply. She continued putting away the groceries, then removed a large bottle of olive oil from the bag and placed it on the counter. "Anything else, your highness?"
Just then the phone in the basement rang. "I'll be right back," Kwabena said as he trotted downstairs.
Darlene came over to Tamara. "Look, I'm trying my best to get something going here. How about you give Jordan a visit?"
Tamara looked at Darlene irritated. "If you want privacy, go to your own home! And since when do you cook?" She resumed packing away the groceries, angrily slamming them into the pantry.
Darlene strolled over to the sink, rinsing the flour from her hands. She smiled coyly. "Ever since I learned that that sexy hunk living in your basement loves to cook."
Tamara stopped putting the groceries away and turned to face Darlene, hands on her hips. "And what happens when he finds out you actually hate the kitchen?" she demanded.
Darlene dried her hands on a dish towel and glided over to Tamara, smiling slyly. "I won't tell him and neither would you," she purred with a wink.
"No wonder none ofyour relationships last," Tamara said with derision. "They're all built on dishonesty. Sooner or later he's going to find out you're a pretentious fake and he'll dump you like all the others have."
"What's with you, Tammy? Why so bitchy tonight?" Darlene asked, surprised at Tamara's anger. "Are you jealous? You told me that there was nothing between the two ofyou."
"As if that ever mattered to you!" Tamara argued raising her voice. This was not the first time that Darlene had hit on someone Tamara was interested in. She had tried to pick up Jared at a bar just moments before Tamara introduced him to the family. And even after learning he was engaged to her cousin, she still flirted openly with him.
In high school both Darlene and Ebony had dated guys after Tamara confided she was attracted to them. It was easy for them to steal guys from her. They were slim, curvy and pretty extroverts. Tamara had always been overweight and shy. How could she forget what happened to her first date when she was sixteen? It was with La'Mont, an athlete she'd harbored a crush on for some time. Her mother had flown in from San Diego unannounced just in time to grill La'Mont exhaustively, and then forbade her to date him. Darlene and Ebony had saved the date by volunteering to chaperone the couple, then spent the entire time flirting with him. Needless to say, he never asked her out again. A few months later, Ebony tearfully announced that she was pregnant by La'Mont.
"Oh, I see what's going on. You have a crush on him. You want him for yourself, don't you? Well let the competition begin."
"Just how much do you know about him?"
"I know he's intelligent, I know he's accomplished, and I know he's sexy as hell. That's all I need to know."
"Do you also know that he's married?" Tamara pulled the trump card.
"What? I don't believe you. He's not married," Darlene challenged, standing a few feet away from Tamara, arms folded. "Who is he married to?"
Tamara didn't answer. She hadn't expected to reveal so much to Darlene. She just felt so angry.
Darlene asked again, "Who is he married to?"
"Why don't you tell her who I'm married to, Tamara?" Both women looked up in surprise at the sound of Kwabena's voice as he reentered the kitchen. Tamara felt her heart thumping in her ears. She never expected him to challenge her like that. She remained silent, feeling her face heat. Kwabena kept his eyes trained on Tamara. "You're the honest one. Go ahead, tell her who my wife is."
Tamara remained silent.
"I'm married to your cousin," he said to Darlene never taking his eyes off Tamara's face. "Tammy is my wife."
"Is that true, Tamara?" Darlene whispered, disbelief registering on her face.
"Yes," Tammy said quietly looking down at the floor.
"How could you do that? How could you marry someone and keep it from us like that? How could you lie to us like that?" Darlene said, hurt lining her voice.
Tamara swallowed the lump in her throat. She took a deep breath. Since the cat was already out of the bag, she may as well tell the whole truth. "I married him so he can stay in the country and I could pay my mortgage. It is a business deal, nothing more."
"Are you sure it's nothing more?" Kwabena asked taking a step toward her.
Tamara forced herself to look up at Kwabena. She could not answer his question truthfully. The sexual tension between them was almost visible.
Darlene looked from Kwabena to Tamara. From the expression on both their faces, she could tell there were deep emotions involved. Whether they knew it or not, they were in love with each other.
"I think, I'll leave you two alone," Darlene said. Neither Kwabena nor Tamara acknowledged her. Their eyes remained locked. "I...I'll see myself out." Darlene left quickly.
"It's nothing more than business," Tamara forced herself to lie. Deep down she knew she felt something for him. But he was a womanizer, and Tamara didn't want to be used and discarded by any man.
"Then why do you care if I date Darlene, or any other woman for that matter?" He strode over to her, his long legs easily closing the distance between them. His nearness was constricting her, making her unable to breathe or think.
"Because... because..."
"Because this is more than a business deal. Because you have feelings for me."
He reached down and kissed her. Tamara tried to resist, but found herself submitting to his kiss. She felt weak in the knees and leaned on him for support. Despite what her mind was telling her, she kissed him back with passionate fury.
When he finally released her, she whispered breathlessly, "We can't keep doing this."
LCW~Y•?" VV 11
"Because we're gonna do something we will both regret."
"Is that why you've been avoiding me?"
"I haven't been avoiding you." Tamara walked away from him and sat at the breakfast table. She needed space to collect her thoughts.
He followed her. "Yes, you have."
She looked away. "No, I haven't."
He sat across from her. "I thought we had an unspoken agreement to be honest with each other."
"Honest?" she asked with a sarcastic laugh. "What do you know about being honest? First you come here pretending to be a nobody, and it turns out you're some big shot scientist. You send me for a job with a friend's company, but you never told me you're part owner of the company. You kiss m
e as if I'm the only woman in your world and the next day another is in your arms, and now you're drooling all over my cousin. Do you call that honest?"
Kwabena ran his hand over his short-cropped hair and sighed. Placing his elbows on the table, he clasped his hands under his chin and whispered, "You don't understand, Tammy."
"Enlighten me."
He sighed. "Why do I get the feeling that you won't believe any explanation I give right now?"
Tamara turned to him and stared directly into his dark brown eyes. Quietly she said, "Because trust when violated is hard to regain."
Kwabena remained silent for a long while, contemplating Tamara's words. He looked up at her, his eyes staring directly into hers. A smile tugged at the sides of his mouth. "I have a wedding to attend tomorrow," he said. "Come with me."
"Why should I go out with you?"
"You said to enlighten you. If you come to the wedding with me you'll understand."
"What's taking you so long?" Kwabena called upstairs from the den, their meeting room whenever they went out.
"I need your help," Tamara squeaked, barely loud enough for him to hear. The short notice didn't allow her time to shop for a new dress, so she tried putting on the red form fitting dress she'd worn over a year ago. It was a little tight around the waist and she had trouble zipping it. Finally she bent her head back sucked in her breath and pulled. The curly pony tail extension she'd added to her hair got stuck in the zipper. Now she could neither get it up nor down. With her head bent back at that awkward angle, she could barely whisper.
Kwabena entered the room and burst out laughing at the sight of her.
"What are you laughing at? I need help." Tamara could not help noticing how stunning he looked in his black tuxedo and silver fish scale vest.
"Is that thing sewn in or does it come off?" he asked, referring to her hairpiece.
"I paid a lot of money for this, so don't refer to it as `That thing.' And, yes, it comes off."