Diluted Desire

by Desiree Day

  A cashier headed in their direction. “Geneva is coming over again,” Clint whispered to his brother before discreetly jutting his chin at her.

  Trevor stretched, and then peeked over his shoulder; sure enough she was sauntering toward their table. They had been in the fast-food restaurant for only ten minutes but she had stopped by their table twice, once to re-fill their drinks and once to clear away extraneous napkins, things that they could and should be doing on their own. But they were so used to women falling over themselves to get their attention that it no longer fazed them.

  When they were younger they took advantage of the women, using them for sex and money. Maturity eventually won out, causing them to change their behavior and act more responsibly.

  “Do y’all need anything?” Geneva drawled, while cracking her gum. She had unzipped her brown polyester top, exposing ginger hued globes.

  “We’re cool,” Clint answered.

  “Yeah, we’re straight,” Trevor chimed in.

  Geneva began picking up used moist towelettes.

  “Oh, we can do that,” Clint offered, hoping that she’d leave, but she continued her cleaning duty.

  “It’s no problem. We ain’t that busy.”

  Trevor and Clint looked at the counter. There was a long line of customers snaking around the cash register. The cashier was taking orders and glaring at Geneva.

  “I think they need you at the register, the cashier is looking over here like you just stole her last pack of Remi hair,” Trevor said.

  Geneva glanced over and rolled her eyes, immediately dismissing the cashier. “Oh, that’s just LaTeefa throwing shade, she just mad ’cause she caught her boyfriend, Man Man, cheating on her. She’ll be aw’ight.” She turned to Trevor. “So you have a girlfriend?” she asked boldly.

  Trevor tried to suppress a snort of disgust, but he wasn’t quite successful and it came out as a half cough and grunt. “Yeah, I do,” he managed to get out.

  Geneva rolled her eyes. “Well, if you ever get tired of her, you know where I am,” she said before sashaying away.

  “Yeah, and you’ll be here for the next ten years doing the same job,” he muttered while watching her ass.

  “Pull those eyes back. You know that Blaklee would kick your ass from here to Tennessee if she even thought you were looking at another chick,” Clint joked and at the mention of his girlfriend, Trevor obediently faced his brother. Once Blaklee had thrown Trevor’s new iPhone out of a moving car after she had seen a text on it from another lady. They both seemed to love their tempestuous relationship; they’d been going strong for three years.

  “Speaking of women, how’s your wife?” Trevor asked.

  Without hesitating, Clint said, “Trippin’.”

  “About what now?” he asked exasperated.

  Clint shook his head. “Who the hell knows? She was in some kind of mood last night.”

  “What happened?”

  “I had a late night at the bakery. The company that delivers some of our products was having a problem with the delivery truck on my route. So instead of delivery at six o’clock in the morning like they usually do, they delivered at eleven o’clock last night. They were apologetic and everything and just to move the process along, I helped the driver unload. So by the time I got home last night I was funky as hell, so I took a shower as soon as I got in the house, she hates it when I smell. And when I went in for a kiss this morning she practically pushed me away.”

  “Damn bro if she knew what you did at work, she’d be cool.”

  Clint shook his head and smiled wryly. “She knows, when I opened the bakery she used to work with me. But now she doesn’t want to hear about how I spend all my time baking. Hell I don’t even bring her any cupcakes anymore; she complains that it’ll mess up her figure.”

  “Now her body is bangin’,” he said with a chuckle.

  Clint glared at his brother. “Hey watch it that’s my wife,” he said, his voice a low growl.

  Trevor dropped his third chicken leg. “Calm down, I’m just making an observation.”

  “I know…I know. I’m just frustrated. I wish that I could see it more than once every three months,” Clint grumbled.

  “What? So it’s like that? Well damn!”

  “Yeah, it’s like that. She keeps saying that she’s working too hard. And it’s true, sometimes she doesn’t get home until nine or ten o’clock. Between business dinners, meetings and her traveling she says she’s worn out.”

  “Too worn out to take care of her man? That’s fucked up. What are you going to do?”

  “I don’t know man. You know how I feel about marriage.”

  Trevor shook his head, Clint didn’t believe in divorce, even when his first marriage was beginning to go south, he stuck with it because of his daughter Crystal. After catching his wife in bed with his best friend the marriage folded faster than a five dollar plastic chair.

  “I know.”

  “And I don’t want what happened five years ago to happen again.” He wearily ran his hand over his face. He met his brother’s gaze, Clint’s hazel eyes dulled with pain. “That was such a dark place for Violet and me, and it was all my fault. I don’t ever want to repeat that…but man, she’s not acting right.”

  “Have you talked to her?”

  “I tried, but she either says that she’s too tired or too busy and I’m getting tired of it Trevor and I don’t know what to do.”

  “Give it one more try. Talk to her tonight, tell her your concerns,” Trevor suggested. “I think I will,” Clint said.

  Clint thought about Trevor’s suggestion and he wanted to take it one step further. He wanted to get Violet some flowers, but since it was late, all the florist shops were closed. He had almost given up, until he saw the jade green Publix sign and immediately pulled into the parking lot. He got a shopping cart and filled it with a dozen red roses, strawberries, two bottles of champagne, dark chocolate for melting and some candles.

  It was nine thirty by the time he finally got home. The silence told him that Violet wasn’t home yet. He texted her and she immediately texted back that she was just leaving a meeting and was on her way home.

  Clint raced upstairs to the bathroom. Violet loved to soak in the bathtub. She had told him that after she had bought the house, she had the bathroom renovated to include a large soaking tub. Clint turned on the water, found her favorite bath beads and tossed a few of those in. Soon the room was filled with the scent of lavender and vanilla, a combination he detested, but his wife loved it.

  Clint checked his watch; he didn’t have much time before Violet got home. He darted down the stairs to finish his preparations. Just as he was placing the last item on the coffee table, he heard the garage door slam. He hurried to meet her. Clint greeted her with a kiss then took her coat. Violet stood still, shocked, Clint hadn’t been this attentive in years.

  “Hey Vi, have a good day?”

  “Um sure,” she answered, still trying to figure out what was wrong with him.

  He grabbed his wife’s hand. “Come on, I got a surprise for you.”

  “What?” Violet asked, while eyeing him suspiciously.

  “Come see,” he said and Violet reluctantly let herself be led to the living room.

  “Look what I got for us,” he said proudly, and then gestured toward the coffee table.

  She narrowed her eyes. “Why are you doing all this? Are you cheating on me again?”

  “What?” Clint sputtered, flabbergasted. “I am not cheating on you. I love you and I want to show you, that’s all.”

  Violet snorted.

  Not to be discouraged, Clint kissed her softly on the lips. “Come on babe, let’s just sit down and talk. We haven’t done that in a long time.”

  “Yeah, because you’ve been busy, you don’t—”

  Clint placed two fingers over her lips. “Let’s not argue, sit down.” He guided her to the couch and after she sat down, he poured two glasses of champagne. He lifted his fl
ute to her. “To us, to a lifetime of happiness.” He touched his glass to Violet’s. She barely sipped her champagne before setting her flute on the table. She stood up. “I really have to get some work done.”

  Shit! Clint’s face fell but he quickly pasted on a smile. “Stay, I got you some flowers and some strawberries, give me a minute and I’ll melt some chocolate. And I got a warm bath waiting for you upstairs.”

  Violet glanced at the gifts on the coffee table then rolled her eyes. “Supermarket flowers,” she said with a sneer, “is that the best you can do?” She stepped around him and made her way out of the living room. She stopped. “And, I don’t have time to sit in a tub,” she said curtly, before stomping up the stairs.

  Clint’s jaw dropped. Shell shocked, he muttered, “What the hell just happened?”

  Chapter 3

  It was nine o’clock in the evening when Summer dragged herself through her front door. She had wanted to stay at the bakery to wait with Clint for the delivery so that she could help him unload, this was the second time this week a truck was late, but he sent her home and she left…although reluctantly. As soon as she walked into the foyer she heard cars roaring and loud cursing; she knew that Trey, her high school boyfriend, and his cousin Fresh Man were in the living room playing Xbox. Summer frowned then marched to the kitchen where she saw the breakfast dishes still in the sink. A pizza box was on the counter, she flicked it open. Empty. She clutched the brown paper bag she was holding. Fortunately, she had stopped on the way home and picked up something to eat.

  Summer reached to open her cupboard then froze; in the front of her cherry wood cabinet was a three-inch scratch. “What the hell? Again!” Last month he had broken the door off the bathroom vanity. She opened the cupboard, pulled out a glass then angrily slammed it shut.

  She had gotten the condo at a steal. The previous owner had gotten a new job out of town and didn’t want to rent it. Her timing was perfect, if the condo had gone on sale five years ago and if the seller hadn’t been desperate, it would have cost her over a quarter of a million dollars. But because everything lined up perfectly, she had gotten it for half that price.

  Within a month of purchasing it, Trey asked if he could stay for a couple of months until he got his money right. It’s been almost two years and his money was still bad. Six months ago everything changed when she realized that she no longer loved him. After paying his cell phone, car and Macy’s bills she realized that she was taking care of him, and no woman should take care of a healthy, employable twenty-five-year-old man. Her respect for him had dwindled considerably.

  Exhausted she trudged toward her bedroom, but she had to go through the living room to get there. Even though the condo was sparse on furniture, the pieces that were there was quality. Whenever she found time she scoured estate and garage sales for unique items that reflected her personality. Her favorite piece was her extra-long sofa that sat six; she had found it at an estate sale. After having it steam cleaned, she had it reupholstered with a cheetah print, and it was the main attraction in the living room. And Trey and Fresh Man had their lazy asses plopped on it.

  “Hey,” she mumbled as she walked by, wanting to get to her room as quickly as possible.

  Trey barely lifted his gaze from the TV to acknowledge her. Fresh Man didn’t say a word, but paused his playing long enough to take a long pull from his beer bottle. It wasn’t his first one either; she noticed several empty beer bottles on the tables and floor, along with the smell of weed. She shook her head, continued to her bedroom and slammed the door shut.

  “His ass is leaving,” she fumed. “He’s smoking that shit in my house and he doesn’t have a job. It’s time for him to go.” Normally she would mediate on big decisions, she never made snap decisions, she liked to put thought into what she was doing, and the practice had served her well. Her heart thudded at the thought, then a cord of relief ribboned through her, and her heart slowly eased to a normal pace. She realized she had been wanting him to leave for a while.

  She debated whether to call her best friend, Yvette, with her new revelation, but her stomach growled and eating became a priority. Summer pulled off her clothes and threw them in her hamper, leaving her wearing only a wife beater and a thong. She flicked on the TV, found an old episode of The Jeffersons, and pulled out her dinner, jumbo hot wings, French fries with a side of fried rice. Although she liked to eat vegetarian meals she wasn’t practicing that lifestyle, she tried to limit her meat intake to once a day.

  After adjusting the pillows, she sat back and sighed. Other than lunch with Clint this was the first time all day she had the chance to put her feet up. “This feels so good,” she muttered, and paused a moment to savor it. She blessed it before she started eating.

  She was just beginning to feel like herself when Trey burst through the door. “I knew I smelled some hot wings.” He reached down for one and Summer slapped his hand away.

  “Nu uh, you are not getting any of my food.”

  “Stop playing girl.” Trey laughed, then reached again and Summer whacked him a second time.

  “I’m not joking Trey, you’re not getting any of my food.”

  “What? Why not?”

  She glared at him before answering. “Why should I? You didn’t think about me enough to make me dinner. You were here all day playing that fucking game!”

  “What? How am I supposed to know that you wanted dinner, you didn’t tell me,” he said angrily.

  “I didn’t tell you? I didn’t tell you to take a shit this morning but you did! Hell, I’m supposed to be your lady, and you can’t even think to cook for me? To make sure that I had something to eat after working for twelve hours, you can’t even do that for me?” she spat at him, her pent up anger spilling out.

  He turned to go. “Well fuck it then Summer, all I wanted was some wings, I don’t wanna hear all that shit. I’m going back to play my game.”

  “Don’t. You. Walk. Out. Of. Here,” she said through clenched teeth, her words hitting him like bullets in his back.

  Trey slowly faced her, his mouth forming a large O, Summer never talked to him like that before.

  Suddenly her mouth went dry, her words glued together in her throat.

  “So whatcha gonna do, just stare at me all night?” Trey asked, his mouth twisted in a sneer. “Fuck this I’m leaving.” He stomped toward the door.

  “I think it’s time that you left. I want you to move out,” she called after him, he rounded on his heels, his jaw had dropped, this was the last thing he was expecting.

  “You want what?” he stuttered.

  “I want you to pack up your shit and leave, us living together isn’t working anymore.” She didn’t need him financially; she paid all the bills and even gave him money after he used up his weekly unemployment check.

  “Fine, I’ll leave.”

  “You can stay until the end of the month if you want,” she offered.

  “Fuck that. You want me to leave, then I’ll leave tonight. I’ll go back home to my Moms, at least she won’t be trippin’,” he said sullenly. He stalked to the closet and stared at it, unsure of what to do.

  “There are some Hefty bags under the kitchen sink,” Summer said and Trey glared at her before stomping out of the room. She heard him telling Fresh Man the news, which was immediately followed by a spurt of expletives that made her want to cover her ears with her hands.

  Moments later Trey returned with the garbage bags draped over his arms. Without saying a word to her he began dropping his clothes, still on their hangers, into the plastic bag. “I know what this is about,” he muttered.

  Summer, who was watching TV, shifted her gaze at him. “What? What did you say?”

  He whirled around. “I know you’re doing this because of Clint.”

  “What?” Summer asked with a laugh. “What are you talking about?”

  “You know what I’m talking about,” he sneered at her.

  Summer blushed; she knew exactly what he was talk
ing about. A couple of years ago while they were making love, she had called out Clint’s name. “He has nothing to do with this, besides he’s married, happily so,” she threw in, even though she wasn’t sure.

  “Yeah right.”

  “Just keep packing,” she snapped. Summer settled back on the bed, her dinner ignored, she no longer had an appetite. While he was stuffing his clothing into the garbage bag, she realized that she had bought almost all his clothes.

  This wasn’t how she had imagined they would turn out. They had started dating in their senior year of high school. He was the quarterback and she was the shy studious girl that no one knew existed. Her goal was to get through high school without anyone noticing her and she had been successful, until she had walked into Trey’s sights. Trey had pursued her relentlessly for two months before she agreed to go out with him.

  With Trey as her boyfriend, her senior year of high school was idyllic. People who didn’t talk to her before wanted to be her best friend, and Trey treated her like a queen. Back then he was always buying her things and taking her out. And when she finally had given herself to him, she had given him everything including her heart.

  They both went away to the same college, both on scholarships, him on an athletic and her on an academic. After getting caught with cocaine one too many times he was kicked out. One night during summer break while they were hanging out they had stopped at a Kroger for some beer, where on the way out he had bought a fifty cent ring from the bubble gum machine. They both were in tears when he knelt down on the dirty asphalt and asked her to marry him. He didn’t put the ring on her finger until he made her promise him that she wasn’t going to return to school, after a slight nod, he slipped it on.

  Her parents were furious, when she had broken the news to them. The only thing that saved her from being kicked out of the house was her promise to enroll in a local college. She enrolled in culinary school while he jumped from one dead-end job to another. She had matured, while he was still the same person he was in high school. The bubble gum machine ring was lost years ago.