You Make Me Wanna

by Nikki Rashan

  “I know that, but you look like you’re about to pass out, girl. Are you nervous?”

  “I think I am. I don’t know what it is about this woman. I haven’t felt these knots in my stomach since—”

  Nakia cleared her throat to shut me up. “Go on and get out of here before you make me nervous too. Everything will be just fine.”

  A grateful smile managed its way to the corners of my lips. My nearly full pack of Virginia Slims tempted me as I pulled my car keys from my purse. Even though I hadn’t placed a long, lean, flavor-filled cig between my lips in over a week, as the yearning to calm my nerves increased, they called my name louder and louder.

  “Hand them over,” Nakia ordered. “I thought you quit.”

  “I did. Just didn’t throw them away yet,” I said, reluctantly handing the pack to her.

  Promptly she tossed them in the wastebasket beneath the register counter. “Well, it’s official now. And you don’t need them anyway. Just go and be yourself.”

  I inhaled and exhaled to gain my composure and wondered what in the hell it was that had me so on edge. I’d been through how many women the past couple of years? Asia wasn’t like the others though. I just knew it.

  “I’ll call you later,” I said when a customer approached the counter.

  Kia, mumbling obscenities under her breath, was left to assist the jittery trainee with another transaction. Inside I laughed and recounted the numerous times I had to remind Nakia that those endless customers gave us both our jobs.

  The ride to Marlon’s was harmless. My overactive nerves didn’t interfere with my ability to alternate clutch then gas, clutch then brake, as I drove through the early-afternoon traffic. Sprinkles of nervous sweat formed tiny beads around my hairline when I parked my car and set the brake. What in the hell, Kyla? Why was I so nervous over someone I didn’t even know? Using a leftover food napkin, I wiped my skin and brushed a fresh coat of almond powder over my face.

  “Ready?” I asked myself as I took one last glance in the rearview mirror.

  Marlon’s door was ajar when I got out of the car.

  “Hey,” I whispered to him when I located him at the kitchen counter.

  He turned around to greet me. “This isn’t a library, Kyla. Why are you whispering?”

  “Oh, right,” I mumbled, not realizing I was speaking as if I had a sleeping baby in my arms. “Where’s David?”

  Marlon checked the clock over the stove. “He should be here any minute. He had some last-minute paperwork to complete. One of his staff members was sailing his way into being terminated, and today his ship crashed in.”

  I placed my purse on the wooden table and reached into the cabinet to retrieve four coffee mugs. “Do you think this is going to work, Marlon?”

  Suddenly, warm heat soothed my back, and I turned around to find Asia standing just inside the doorway holding a cup of sugar in one hand and a silver monitor in the other, a pleasant smile on her face. I was fearful I would faint at that moment.

  Marlon swept past me and retrieved the sugar from her.

  Dressed in uniform, her white pants and white jacket provided a stunning contrast against her dark, glowing skin. Beaming attentive eyes sparkled in my direction as she walked toward me.

  “Asia,” she stated, offering her hand to me.

  Inconspicuously, or so I hoped, I wiped my moist palm with my thumb before taking her hand in mine. “Kyla,” I responded, trying to conceal the shakiness in my voice.

  Marlon observed the exchange, humored, as if he himself were Cupid the matchmaker.

  “Is your coffee maker not working?” Asia asked unexpectedly.

  Marlon and I glanced at the shiny top-of-the-line coffee maker he’d received just a month earlier from David for his birthday.

  “No, it’s working just fine,” he said.

  “Oh, I thought I heard Kyla ask you about something working.” Asia looked back and forth, from me to Marlon.

  “No, no, no, Asia, it was nothing.” Marlon gave me a quick squint of the eye. “Have a seat, ladies. I’ll bring the coffee out in a few minutes.”

  Asia headed through the swinging door, and behind her back, I looked at Marlon and wiped my right eyebrow, relieved to survive the close call we’d just had. After I followed Asia into the living room, I noticed no wedding ring on her left hand.

  “This is a lovely apartment,” she said when she sat down and placed the monitor on the table that separated us.

  “Yes, it’s very nice. Great location. So close to the park,” I said, unable to deliver more than fragmented sentences.

  “Mrs. Garfield enjoys going for walks through the park.” Asia’s smile faded, and her glow dimmed.

  “How is she?” I asked.

  “Not well,’ she said sadly. “It won’t be much longer.”

  “Oh, I’m sorry.”

  “Well, she’s heading home to her Maker. At least she’ll be at peace.”

  Oh shit! Was I about to hit on a good ol’ Christian girl? The miniature devil on my shoulder laughed. You’ve had them too.

  Asia’s brilliant smile returned, and she placed her elbows on her knees to lean forward. “So you and Marlon are friends or relatives?”

  For the briefest moment, I thought a flicker of amusement flashed through her dark eyes. “Um, no,” I answered, desperately wishing Marlon would fly through the swinging doorway Mrs. Cleaver-style and place steaming coffee mugs on the table. But he didn’t.

  Asia simply sat there waiting for me to elaborate.

  Why was I scared to tell her? I was acting like there was something wrong with it. “I know Marlon through my cousin, David. Where are you from?”

  She appeared not to mind my changing the subject.

  “Originally from Texas. Dallas, actually. I’ve been in Atlanta for four years now.”

  “I’ve been here just about a year and half myself. How do you like it?”

  “I suppose I’m used to big-city life, so it’s not much different than Dallas to me. Nice change of scenery though.”

  “What made you leave?”

  “Oh, just looking for new opportunities.” Asia appeared to eye the door with the same longing I had only seconds before, yet her smile remained intact. “Wow! where’s that coffee?”

  I didn’t know if Marlon had walked to Colombia for the beans, or if he was being sly and giving us time to get to know one another. Whatever the case, I had to take full advantage of the opportunity because I didn’t know if there would be another.

  “So what do you like to do?” I asked, breaking into a fast sweat underneath my blouse. I was glad I hadn’t removed my blazer.

  “My schedule is so busy, I don’t have very much free time,” she answered without answering, very much Kyla style, not knowing I was the master at vagueness.

  “Yeah, my schedule is pretty hectic too.” I tried to look her in the eyes when I spoke. A sincere spark of interest shined, further luring me in. “I work long hours, but unwind in a few ways—at home in front of the TV, going out, hanging out with friends.”

  “Oh? Where do you go out?”

  I cleared my throat gently, thinking, It’s now or never, Kyla.

  Just as I was ready to tell her that I spend some Friday nights at a very popular female gay bar, David walked in, dressed in uniform, carrying a white box. “Doughnuts to go with the coffee?” He quickly dropped the box atop the entertainment center and flew over to Asia. “Hi, sugar. I’m David. So glad you could make it today,” he said, shaking her hand. He turned to me. “Hey, baby girl,” he said and kissed my cheek.

  “Well, Asia, this is my cousin I just told you about.”

  “It’s really nice to meet you, David.” Asia spied the way David’s wrist hung daintily at his waist.

  “Same here. Marlon and Ky said such nice things about you.”

  Asia raised her left eyebrow. “So everyone dropped by for coffee?”

  David glanced at me then at the empty coffee table. He probably reali
zed I hadn’t gotten too far into my conversation with Asia. “I’m going to check on Marlon,” he said quickly. “Be back.”

  With the swinging door still in motion, Asia said, “I must say, it’s interesting of you to say nice things about me before us having met.”

  I cleared my throat once again. “Um, well Marlon told us that you’d be here because, uh, we had plans for coffee already. He spoke so pleasantly of you, and I told David about it.”

  “I see,” she said, granting me permission to slide on that transparent fib. “So, tell me, where is it that you go out?”

  “W-well, er, I visit Traxx pretty often.”

  Asia’s everlasting smile widened as she sat up abruptly, staring at me intently. “Really now, I’ve been there with friends a time or two myself,” she said, leaning back in the seat.

  My heart fluttered. And then I quickly thought, Does “with friends” mean that she was a straight girl tagging along with her gay friends, similar to my initial venture out with Stephanie? Or does it mean she hung at the popular bar with a group of gay girlfriends? Or is it code for with my girlfriend, and she really was in the life? I had to find out.

  Before I could muster the courage to ask her on a date, she beat me in asking a question first.

  “Have you been gay your whole life, Kyla?”

  Now where did that come from? The question flowed with no sarcasm, no hint of irritation. Just a straightforward question, whose only requirement was an honest answer, like she knew I had a story to tell. How did she know I hadn’t been gay my whole life? That I hadn’t grown up kissing my Barbie and playing doctor with my little girlfriends? What about me told her that once upon a time I had the American dream in the palm of one hand while the other was weighed down by an unexpected, uncontrollable, inescapable love for another woman?

  Once again, that little voice in my head reminded me that I had this moment to seize every opportunity with the amazing bright-eyed woman who sat before me. Nervously twirling a loose curl around my finger, I said, “I’ll be happy to tell you over dinner.”

  Suddenly, coughing spasms and deep groans boomed through the monitor. In response, Asia leapt from the loveseat toward the kitchen. “Be right back,” she said without turning around.

  David and Marlon, who miraculously appeared two seconds after Asia’s departure, found me collapsed on the couch, drained from my five-minute conversation with Asia.

  “Baby, you okay?”

  “I think so. I don’t know what’s wrong with me, Marlon. Women don’t make me this nervous. There’s something about her . . . like just being around her will make everything all right.”

  “Tell me how it went. The coffee has been ready, girl. I was just giving you some time to talk to her.”

  “I figured that, thank you. It went well, I guess. So far, I know she’s been to Traxx a time or two, as she put it. But, just when I was about to ask her to dinner, Mrs. Garfield started hacking through the monitor.”

  “What do you think she was going to say?”

  “I hope yes. Why don’t you bring the coffee in here? I need something to calm me down.”

  “Yes, you sure do. You’re going to scare that poor child away, acting so silly. She’s special honey, but she’s just a person.” Marlon headed toward the kitchen and returned with a cup of roasting-hot, freshly brewed coffee.

  He was right. I was acting like a freak, like Asia was a superstar and I was her number one obsessed fan.

  Approaching sirens drew us to the front window, from where I saw paramedics racing into the building with a stretcher and speeding down the hall to the witch’s apartment. “Well, damn,” I said, witnessing the event.

  “Next time, baby,” Marlon said, giving me a hug. “I’m sure I’ll see her soon.”

  “I hope so,” I said, falling into his embrace.

  “Baby girl, I haven’t seen you like this in a long time,” David commented.

  “I haven’t felt like this in a long time.” I took a sip of coffee to refrain from adding, Since Stephanie.

  “Well, if it’s meant to be, it will be,” David added. “She won’t slip away so easily.”

  “I know.”

  We sat together for just a few minutes while I gulped down the hot coffee, allowing it to sting my chest.

  There was no sign of Asia when I glanced toward the open apartment door when I left. Sulking like the last pair of BCBG sling-backs had just been sold, I crawled behind the wheel of my car and started the rumbling engine.

  Just as I released the parking brake, Asia jetted out of the apartment building. “Kyla!” she called loudly, waving a small piece of paper in her hand.

  I lowered the window.

  She hurried to the passenger side door and said, “I’d love to have dinner.”

  At that moment the paramedics came running out with Mrs. Garfield, flat on the stretcher, oxygen mask over her face, and rushed her into the ambulance.

  “Gotta go,” she said before dashing to her car. One fast turn on her feet and she yelled, “Don’t lose my number!” She got into her truck and sped off behind the ambulance.

  Oh I won’t. I immediately put her number into my phone-book in my cell phone.

  Before putting my car in first gear, I looked up and saw Marlon and David waving wildly and smiling at me from Marlon’s apartment window. I waved back, smiled even bigger than their smiles put together, and took off for work.

  CHAPTER 4

  Out with the Old, In with the New

  You look beautiful tonight,” Angie said as we exited the parking lot of Brio Restaurant on Peachtree Road, where we had just eaten dinner. “That blouse really brings out your eyes,” she continued, referring to my violet-colored Nanette Lepore chiffon blouse. “I had read somewhere that purple accents the brown in eyes.”

  “Thanks, Angie,” I said, blushing slightly. Even with the simplest words and compliments, Angie always made me feel special.

  It had been a week since I left Asia a message the evening after our meeting at Marlon’s, and I had yet to receive a return call. It was a Wednesday night, and I had already clocked nearly thirty-five hours in three days, and I was beyond irritation. I had been so sick with anticipation the last seven days that I had snapped at Nakia and nearly bit LALA’s head off (although that was deserved) for not completing a simple assignment, all because I was anxious, irritable, and pissed off because I hadn’t heard back from her. So when Angie called me in the midst of hustling back and forth between phone calls and Gary’s office, I happily accepted her offer for an Italian meal.

  Angie took hold of my hand and brought it to her side while she drove. I knew what was coming next. It was a conversation we exchanged on a regular enough basis that we could record it and replay it for future usage.

  “Kyla, what’s going on, for real?” Angie turned sideways to glance at me. “Why won’t be you be my lady?”

  I looked over at Angie, dressed in a brown pantsuit with a deep olive turtleneck, looking sexy in a soft masculine way. She never wore heels; Franco Sarto designed her favorite slide-on flats. Her natural curls were slicked back with gel, and a small, simple silver hoop hung from each ear. A CD of soft jazz played through the car speakers, filling the space before I responded.

  I thought about Asia and why I was so drawn to her, someone I didn’t even know. Why I had been contemplating severing ties with all the women I knew if I could have just one date with her. And even though I hadn’t heard back from her, a nagging from the inside was nudging me to alter my usual response to Angie. I knew that if I was going to move forward with Asia, I had to end the sweet ride that Angie and I had been riding.

  I squeezed her hand gently. “Angie, you and I have shared some unbelievable times together. You know that, right? I mean, you make me feel ways that other women don’t. You’re so generous and kind, and I always enjoy being around you.”

  “Uh-oh, this isn’t sounding right, Kyla.”

  “Truth is, if we were going to be togeth
er, we would have been by now. Come on, we’re grown women, Angie. We know what we have isn’t a strong basis for a relationship. I like you, you like me, and our sex is amazing, but I think you and I will always make better friends than partners. Neither one of us should keep pretending that one day we’re going to settle down together, because that’s not the case, and we know it.”

  Angie was silent, only a brief sign of disappointment across her face, as she slowly nodded her head. She brought my hand to her lips and kissed it. “Well, you can’t blame me for trying, right?” She smiled.

  I smiled too, grateful for her response and honored to know such a sweet woman. “You’re going to make some woman really happy one day, Angie.”

  “I was hoping it would be you, Kyla, but I understand. You’ve been laying down reasons for a long time about not wanting a relationship, and when I was in your shoes, I did the same thing. After I decided I wanted to find someone and settle down, I started looking and I found you. But if I’m not the one for you, then okay. When you find her, Kyla, whoever she is, you’ll settle down too.” She kissed my hand again.

  “Thanks, Angie. But I know you’re not trying to tell me that you don’t have a long line of women to choose from.”

  She laughed coolly, and I knew the line was probably longer than I thought.

  “I might have one or two ladies I could pick from.”

  “So, tell me, anybody I know?” I asked. If we were going to be strictly friends, why not?

  “Now I don’t go asking who you’re entertaining when you’re not with me, do I?” she said playfully.

  “Ahh, excellent point,” I said, not wanting to divulge any names and praying they weren’t the same.

  “See, I knew that would shut you up quick.”

  We both laughed.

  “Let’s just say, I’m not necessarily hurting, when it comes to finding a woman. I wanted her to be you, but I hear you loud and clear.”

  I simply nodded, and we rode in silence.

  Instead of turning onto my street, Angie pulled into a lot at the park across the street. She parked in a corner space, many feet away from the light post, though a dim glow flickered across her face. I watched the expression on her face transform from sweet and tender to seductive and sensual. The hoods of her eyes lowered, and her eyes filled with desire. My body immediately heated. No Angie, not now.