by Simone Kelly
I snapped out of it and pulled away. “But the problem is . . . I’m ready, you’re not, and you’ll never be ready,” I said.
“Now hold up. You getting bipolar on me? What?”
I got up. “You’re playing games and I can’t anymore, Breeze.” I tried to walk away and he pulled me down by the elastic in my sky-blue boxers. Ring . . . ring . . .
“Why you always gotta bring the drama, Ky. I ain’t one of these young cats you can just be running your trap at like you ain’t got no—”
I got away from his gentle tug and grabbed the phone on its last ring. Dial tone. I walked back to him and sat down; he took my legs and put them across his lap. “Yeah, yeah, we’ve established that you ain’t one of these young cats. You always say that, which leads me to believe that I should find a nice young cat who wants to be with me all the time, not just come fuck me on a Friday night when he’s horny. Which, by the way, we should be doing right now. Don’t you have to leave soon to get back to your other woman, before you turn into a fucking pumpkin?”
He looked a bit shocked. “What other woman?” Breeze sat up. “What?” He was speechless.
“Oh, come on, Breeze, I’m younger than you, but not dumb. I know about her and it’s all good because you always covered your ass by never committing to me, but Lord only knows what you’re telling that poor woman.” I smirked in satisfaction.
He slouched over his knees, wiping the sweat from his brow. “Darlin’ . . . she’s just a friend, nothing serious. She’s a singer I know who’s in town and needed a place to stay.”
“Right, right . . . and calling me from your fucking home phone? Your lies are so tired, Breeze. And I actually thought I was still going to fuck you and I was looking forward to one last send-off.” I stormed away and came back with a box full of his tank tops, T-shirts, toothbrush, and other knickknacks he left at my place over the years. I’d planned to give it to him after some toe-curling sex, but my plans changed. He looked at the box I dumped at his feet and then looked up at me.
“Breeze, I will always love you, but you ain’t gonna stress me out and run me to the ground anymore. Go home to your wifey, girlfriend, singer, whatever. Even though you look good and I’m horny as shit, I’d rather spend the night with my vibrator than with you.”
Touché! I walked to the door to lead him to it. His eyes glared at me with contempt, like high beams on a dark highway. He walked toward me holding the box in his hands.
“Why do you have to be so evil? You’re not going to give me any good-bye lovin’? How you gonna do me like that? You want to go out like this, Ky. Really?”
“I’m kinda bored with your lines, Breeze. I was looking forward to really seeing you, but you keep fucking shit up with more lies. Let’s keep it simple.” I opened the door and he gave me a kiss on the cheek. That was the strongest I’ve ever been. I was proud of myself for finally standing up to him.
Chapter 13
Jacques
I was back in Miami after five days in the Big Apple. Even though New York was home, it felt good to be back in the sun and see the sight of palm trees. Today was going to be a reunion of sorts.
I was sitting across from Dee and the tarot card showed me her miraculous turnaround, just like a mini movie flashing before my eyes. I rarely use tarot cards anymore, but I have some clients who still request them. I flipped one over and smiled at her. “You’ve done a lot since the last time you were here for a visit.” She nodded proudly.
Her relaxed vibe said it all. She needed this vacation to Miami more than anything. When I used to meet with her at my New York office, it was as if a whirlwind blew in. The woman was always fast-paced, rushing in late from a sales meeting and dressed to the nines. But now she was on vacation and leaving the stressful life back up north, where it belonged. She was revealing a bit more now, like a sexy butterfly tattoo on the small of her back. But I’m not complaining. I could use the pick-me-up after meeting with three clients back-to-back. The pink halter and low-cut jeans she wore were a perfect combination to bring out her light caramel golden tan.
Dee sighed. “Yeah, it’s going to be almost eight months that I’ve been trying to do me.” She fixed her short-cropped bangs. Her hair was swooped up in a short Mohawk style and she ran her fingers through it. “I haven’t been on a date in a while, but for the first time in my life I feel good without depending on a man for security. I’ve been depending on me.”
I leaned in close. “I am proud of you, but also sorry to burst your girl-power moment. Someone is coming into the picture very soon.” She perked up. I flipped two more tarot cards and raised my eyebrows. “I mean, very soon. Are you going out tonight with that friend you visited?”
“Nah, I’m staying with a married and pregnant friend. We aren’t going nowhere, but maybe Häagen-Dazs. She’s so damn greedy now.” She laughed. “She is seven months and looks like ten months!”
I felt confident that this guy was going to be coming soon if she didn’t already know him. “Keep your eyes and ears open.”
“Are we going to be a good match? Or is he going to be good for just two months and then show his ass like the rest of them?”
“Is that a full question?” I playfully looked up to the heavens. “Is he going to show his ass like the rest of them? Pick three cards.”
She shook her head as she closed her eyes and went for the deck. “Damn, I’m sorry for being so crass, you know that’s me.”
“Don’t be sorry, be yourself.” I flipped over the cards she’d picked. “You’ll know when you meet him. You’ll know, Dee. You will both click.”
She leaned over to see the card with a knight on a white horse.
“You sure it’s not you, Jacques? ’Cause you’re the only man I’m gonna see tonight.”
I blushed; she always loved pushing my buttons. “No, you big flirt, it’s not me.”
“Oh yeah?”
I licked my lips and smiled to let her imagine what I was thinking. I couldn’t even pretend she didn’t turn me on. Everything about her exuded fuck me now! The way she crossed her legs, the way she leaned in to read the cards just enough for me to see that dip in her tank top, the way she looked at me. But I had to behave. And I already knew that it wouldn’t be worth it. We were no match. Sexually maybe, but after that, the fires would be blown out quickly. And of course Vicky. I cared about Vicky so much—so clean thoughts, clean thoughts only.
I cleared my throat to change the subject. “How are you doing since your mom passed?”
“Better, but I still feel the guilt big-time. I wish that we had reunited sooner. We were rebuilding our relationship and then lung cancer took her.”
“Don’t blame yourself, Dee. Remember, it was your mother who refused to talk to you for those six years.”
“Wow, how do you remember details like that?”
“It’s what I do.” I smiled. “Hang in there.”
“Yeah, I guess.” She seemed distracted, looking at the tan line of where her watch would have been. “How much time do I have?” She finger-fluffed her bangs.
I glanced at the bamboo clock above her head. “About ten more minutes.”
My guides sent me a message to share with her about her health. I sat up straight and gave her a no-nonsense glare. “You really have to take better care of yourself, too, you don’t want to end up like your mom.”
I pulled a card and saw an illness taking over her system within ten years or so. I actually saw inside her, like an X-ray. I saw a lot of black gook; it was an exaggerated vision that sent the message loud and clear.
“You need to cleanse, detoxify, get the junk out.” I felt as if I’d lost my breath, like the wind had been knocked out of me. My spirit guides wanted to emphasize the message they were sending me. “What do you eat? I see a cloud of gray smoke around you.”
“Really?” She started ruffling her hands nervously. “I eat a lot of salads mostly.”
I tilted my head. “Come on, what else?”
“Chinese food, well, a lot of Chinese food, and I’ll admit it, the salads are fairly new. I’m trying to do better. I do smoke still, though. I beat the habit a couple years ago, but the second I get stressed, I’m back at it.”
“That’s it, look, I’m not going to lie to you, the way you are living could cause a serious problem later on with your health. Your eating and smoking habits aren’t going to help you in about ten to fifteen years. I’m serious. Just because you have a petite frame, don’t let it fool you.”
I grabbed her hand, because as I said it, I saw that same gray cloud float over her chest and lungs and then swirl into the shape of a black mask over her face. My throat felt extremely dry. All I could see was her body from the neck down. Her face was completely covered by the mask. My throat tightened even more and I couldn’t breathe for one second. I started to smell rotten meat.
Cancer. My stomach jumped. It was what I called the death mask. She was literally killing herself. She was possibly going to die of cancer if she didn’t make improvements now. I couldn’t tell her that, it would scare her too much, but I wanted to warn her.
She narrowed her eyes. “What do you see? Why are you holding my hand so tightly?”
I had gone into a short trance state and didn’t realize I’d zoned out. My eyes were beginning to water when I came out of it. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry.”
“Is it that bad?” She slouched in her chair. “I know, I know I just don’t give a fuck about myself sometimes. I get depressed and don’t care. You know I smoke two to three packs a day now?” She shook her head and wiped away a tear.
“You have to start caring about yourself, Dee, if you want someone else to care about you. Looking good on the outside is one thing, but your body will appreciate you and reward you with a long life if you take better care of yourself.”
She pouted, trying to hold it in as she pointed to the tissue box behind me. As tears cascaded down her freckled button nose, she quickly wiped them away before any more could drop. I handed her the box of tissues to dry her damp eyes. She was such a beautiful person, but her low self-esteem always got the best of her. My heart began to break for her.
I rubbed her hand. “It’s okay to cry, Dee. You have to let it out sometimes. You don’t always have to be the strong one.”
She started to cry even more and I got up to hug her. Even I was beginning to tear up, because I hoped it wasn’t too late for her to change her future. I held her gently. “Please promise me that you’ll take better care of Dee. You come first, love yourself. Spend more time with yourself. Honor who you are.” She squeezed me tighter and pressed her body into mine. I felt my shirt get moist with her tears. Her warmth made me tingle and the soft blow of the air conditioner on my neck gave me goose bumps. My hand was across her back, then landed on the warmth of her curvy waist, exposed by her low-rider jeans.
The butterfly was right below the warmth of my hand. She looked up at me and bit her bottom lip. “All jokes aside, I wish I could find someone like you, Jacques. You are sooooo supportive.”
Oh, wow, why’d she have to say that? We were so close, the soft scent of perfume teased me to hold her just a bit longer. I touched her chin and smiled. “You’ll find someone soon and he’ll be even better than me. Someone without a . . . situation.” I laughed, trying to make light of the awkward moment and also snapping back into reality.
I looked into her eyes and saw what a tortured soul she was. I saw how much she’d been through over the years. She was just a little girl in the body of a voluptuous woman still looking for love and acceptance.
She kissed me on the cheek. “Jacques, you are such a sweetheart. Since I can’t have you, do you have a brother?”
“Oh, I have a brother, but I couldn’t do that to you.” I finally pulled away. Her soft skin felt so good and our energies didn’t want to part. I felt good comforting her.
We sat back down. “The new guy . . . he’s going to help you. I don’t know if you are going to hit the jackpot with a doctor or what. Maybe he’s a nutritionist, but it seems like he will be your support system to get your health back to where it needs to be. Maybe you’ll do a detox together.”
She shifted in her seat. “How romantic.” She snickered sarcastically.
“Have you been to the doctor recently?”
“No, not in like two years. I hate doctors.”
“Go to one and get a full physical, so you can see exactly where you should improve. The smoking, Dee, is number one though. This I know for sure. You must stop.”
“I still don’t think I’m ready for anyone new.” She seemed to be ignoring my recommendation. “So much happened to me in the past year. My mom passing and my closest friend moving away to Miami, then the stress from my promotion to sales manager. I can’t deal with a man right now.”
“Right, whatever you say, Dee. I give you a couple more weeks before your body is shouting a different tune!”
We laughed. “Come on, Jacques, I’m not that bad!”
I shuffled the cards and just started humming like I was ignoring her. We both burst into laughter.
Chapter 14
Kylie
Jacques buzzed me into the waiting room. I heard mumbles and laughter behind the door. He was wrapping up a session with a client as I sat anxiously awaiting my reading. I was nervous and excited. The fragrance of sandalwood incense created a light smoke cloud. It circled the tall Japanese paper lamps that softly lit the waiting room.
New age music, nature sounds, and melodic Native American flutes soothed my impatience. I checked my hair in the mirror across from me. I flipped through a few magazines and came across a very entertaining article called “So, She Wants to Make It Facebook Official?”
The title was hilarious, since I’ve heard people talk about that stage in a relationship when you actually share with your world, aka Facebook, who your main squeeze is. The author went on to say . . .
I got an email from a dude asking me if he should cave in and make his relationship “Facebook Official,” so that his girl could shut the hell up. Come on fellas, how many of you have started seeing a chick, you’re diggin’ her, she’s diggin’ you. You want to make her your number one; she wants to make you her number one and only. Big difference. You see, what she doesn’t know is that she has other contenders and if she says the wrong thing or trips up in any way, she will move out of the number one slot and someone else will kindly be rotated in. Demoted, stage left, dropped from the team. Ya feel me? Someone with a bigger ass, juicier lips, freakier in bed, or, better yet, a chick who knows how to keep her mouth shut and not talk back. Ha!
Ladies say, “If I’m really your girl, put it on Facebook.” Get the fuck out of here with that shit! The idea of putting it on Facebook is the dumbest shit ever. Facebook is a sea of potential ass. Why would he ruin his pool of potential pussy for a girl he’s not really into? Getting us to look at you, call you, and date you is easy. But getting us to want to be with your ass is the hard part.
Fellas, don’t do it. You are fuckin’ it up for the rest of us. It causes nothing but controversy. All the other chicks in rotation will start their bullshit. You know, begin on a quest with their detective work. Or worse, they will IM or in-box your girl with some scandalous story that, hey . . . might be true. Respect your privacy . . . respect the game. Respect the man code. Don’t make it Facebook Official. Shit, delete your account and it will make your life even easier. Grab your balls to check if they are still there and be a man. I’m just sayin’ . . .
And ladies, I know I can be a bit harsh. I’m your boy and I’ll keep it 100 with you, but someone has to keep it real with you. I do believe that everyone will find someone for themselves. The hard truth is that no matter how good of a catch you think you are, there are many dudes who will throw your ass back in the water. Unless he says you’re his girlfriend, you’re not. I don’t care if you met his mom, homies, sister, aunties, and granddad. I don’t care how compatible your horoscopes
are! Until you’re official in real life and he’s verbalized it, you’re just a rehearsal chick. You’re just a stepping stone and, truth be told, you might just be his side-chick. When you are number one, believe me, you will know it and you won’t need Facebook to convince you. Dry your tears and don’t be dumb.
Dude, don’t ever let it get emotional. I’m sorry, but you should have never have gone there. You have to make their role clear in the beginning. Have you learned nothing from me?
Like I always say . . .
Remember, it’s just a stab,
Your boy,
Hicham Berradi
I was cracking up after reading that article. I was furious at some points, but it was also clear that the writer was an asshole on purpose. I remembered him, too. He was famous for his It’s Just a Stab blog, which is pretty much saying it’s just sex. Man, he’s a jerk, but he’s smart. Controversy sells! He’s definitely the dude you love to hate!
Jacques opened the door and said his good-byes to a shapely golden-brown lady who had a fierce pixie cut, like Halle Berry or Toni Braxton in the nineties. She was smiling ear to ear. Her silver bracelets jingled as she floated out of the room and sat down in the waiting room. “I’m gonna wait until my ride gets here.”
“Oh, no worries,” Jacques said gently. “There’s water if you need it. Really good seeing you, Dee.” He pointed to the small fridge against the wall.
She and I exchanged smiles. She seemed so happy with her reading. I couldn’t wait to be next!
“Heeeeey, Kylie!”
“Jacques!” I rose to hug him like a long-lost friend. Even though he wasn’t in NYC that long, mannnnnnn, he was even finer than I remembered. He wore a black skully hat and had a bit of a five o’clock shadow. Yum. He seemed to blush as I eyed him up and down. I hated that he could probably read my mind.
“Sorry for the cold, I have no control over the A/C.” He pointed at his hat. Jacques stood in the doorway, waving me in. He led me into an office drenched in warm earth tones of orange, browns, and tans. He had a candle lit, a soothing waterfall, beautiful statues, and artwork that reflected all religions. Buddha, Jesus, Hindu gods, Yoruba orishas, and more. It felt like a museum of spirituality. Sacred, relaxing, and peaceful.