by Dow, Candice
He laughed. “You’re funny.”
“Really, I’m not. I’m just a lady dealing with a little stress and I saw a guy today that made me smile and I’m just suggesting we go out for drinks.”
“A’ight, when are you free?”
“Well, I’m free pretty much any evening since I don’t have my son.”
His voice changed, as if he could sense my sadness. “Oh yeah, that’s true.”
“Yeah. Unbelievable but true.”
“How about tomorrow evening?” he asked.
“It depends on what time. I’m a hairstylist and I’m usually not done until seven.”
“Maybe we should do seven thirty.”
“Cool. Let’s hit Beleza Lounge in midtown,” I said.
He laughed. “You’re aggressive, aren’t you?”
“No, I just go after what I like.”
He laughed. I figured it was time for me to get back in the game. I’d been running after Cam because I was the mother of his child. Now I had to switch up the game plan. At some point Cam had loved me, and if a man has ever loved a woman, the only thing that can bring him back is that woman falling deeply in love with another man. That was my plan. Jacob was test case number one.
The next day, Jacob met me at the lounge in midtown. I’d been to Beleza once before but only briefly. I wore a black dress that hung off one shoulder and fit loosely down to my hips, hugging them tightly. My legs were waxed clean and I’d pulled my hair into a bun on top. Tayshawn had done my makeup and applied false eyelashes.
Jacob was already there when I arrived. The host escorted me over to where he was seated. I recognized his chocolate bald head from behind. His shoulders were broad like a linebacker’s. I placed my hand on his bulging tricep as I stepped up to the table. He stood and gave me a once-over. His wide smile greeted me. “Wow, you look really different.”
“Is that good or bad?” I asked.
“That’s great.”
I pulled my dress down a little before sitting on the plush chair. Global beats filled the air and I looked around the small trendy joint. Then I turned my attention back to Jacob. “I’m glad you were interested in meeting tonight,” I said.
He looked at me. “I am too. I thought you were attractive when I first saw you, but you’re really attractive.”
I lowered my eyes, blushing, and took a sip of my water.
He asked, “Why are you acting bashful?”
“I am really, but I found you interesting and wanted to get to know you.”
“I’m glad you did.”
“Really?”
He nodded. I looked over the menu and asked, “Do you come here often?”
“Not often, but I’ve been here a time or two.”
“What do you usually get?” I asked.
“I like the moqueca.”
I laughed. “Oh my goodness. That’s exactly what I was thinking of getting.”
A big smile spread across his face as I lied to him. It’s funny how simple things like that can blow up a man’s ego. “Yeah, it’s Bahian seafood with coconut milk. I like it a lot,” he said.
“I’m going to try it.”
We had dinner and chatted about a lot of nothing. He was actually quite boring and I was ready to go home, but he made a dessert suggestion. My appetite just couldn’t resist. I ordered the açaí sorbet with granola and assorted fruit. As I made love to the dessert, he interrupted my climax.
“Are you sure you don’t have any more questions for me?”
I shrugged. “I mean, this isn’t an interview or anything.”
“Most people ask questions when they are trying to get to know someone.”
“I guess. Is there something you want to tell me?”
The look in his eyes was suggesting that I ask about his relationship status, which I had failed to do. I didn’t see a ring and he hadn’t resisted me. He shrugged. “Hey, don’t say I didn’t put it on the table.”
Suddenly it hit me that he was trying to tell me something. While I wasn’t necessarily fully into him, I hadn’t completely written him off. He was attractive, with a job. I sensed that he was straight and in the A, that’s really the biggest question. I usually don’t ask a man if he’s bisexual because you usually don’t get an honest answer. You have to do your research and find people who know people who know him. I asked, “What’s your relationship status?”
He smiled. “I’m married.”
A dart went straight through my ego. I didn’t like that this man had sat all the way through dinner and waited to tell me this. I was sick to my stomach. Though I’d come on to him, it would have been appropriate for him to tell me when I called. Now I felt stupid and embarrassed. I quickly called the waitress over and said, “We’ll take the check.”
He asked, “Are you upset?”
“No, I don’t even know you that well. Why would I be upset?”
“You just looked like you were mad when I said it.”
“Mad. Why would you think I’d be mad?”
If anything, I was irritated. Then again, maybe I was mad at myself for aggressively dragging this married man out. I was just ready to buy a fifth of vodka and go home. He took care of the check and pecked me on the cheek before parting.
I stopped at the store and headed home. When I pressed the garage door opener, something came over me and I began to cry. Fuck my life. I needed to see my therapist twice a week if I planned on getting back on the gruesome dating scene. Ugh! Why couldn’t a good man just drop out of the sky?
Ayana
I was nauseous from the day I found out I was pregnant all the way through. The one thing that kept me going was decorating the nursery and planning for my baby’s arrival. I allowed another therapist to take over the practice so I could focus on the radio show.
Things seemed to be going well. After I’d requested a third extension on my book, my editor pushed the publishing date out a year. That gave me another year before it was due, thankfully. The marriage, the pregnancy, and getting used to being a stepmom were a lot to take in. To my surprise, Yasmin had scaled down a lot. She often caused scenes or arguments about Caron and his upkeep, but no attacks against me. I think it was all a mission to get Caron back. I fully supported his return to his mother. Being a stepmother was more than a notion. It was so challenging to step into a child’s life and take a leadership role. That transition is rarely seamless.
We had no difficulties during the pregnancy, except with Cam’s business. The real estate market seemed to have crashed overnight. When I’d met Cam, he was selling million-dollar homes nearly every week. Then somewhere along the way, after I got pregnant—or better yet, after he trapped me—he’d be lucky to sell a house for one hundred thousand dollars. It was as if a tsunami had come and wiped out the entire industry.
He made smart investment decisions so we weren’t struggling, but things were much tighter than they had been when we first met. Initially he wanted to continue to pay all the bills, but I suggested that it made sense for me to help. There was no reason for him to struggle to pay for everything when I made good money too. He’d already proven his manhood to me over and over again. Luckily we’d been able to find reliable tenants to lease my condo so that was off my back and I had more money to contribute to our home.
I peeled myself out of bed every morning, wishing I could sleep through my delivery date. Most days, if Cam was available, he drove me to the radio station. He’d wake up and make me breakfast, then take me to work. He was frustrated by the market, but I felt that it was a blessing while I was pregnant and while he adjusted to being the primary caretaker for Caron. I was confident things would pick back up shortly.
What irritated him most was that several investors wanted to pull out of the Blake’s Overlook project. They were frightened by the trends and felt it was a bad time to start development. They wanted to put the project on pause until the economy bounced back. Cam on the other hand believed that Atlanta was the home of enough cele
brities and power movers that a luxury complex would thrive. The investors had yet to be convinced. Since Cam had money tied up in the entire project too, he was desperate to make it happen. He had mortgaged the land and didn’t want to sell because he’d gotten it for a steal. The mortgage was more than he wanted to be obligated to pay, especially with the investors talking two years before development. Cam called a meeting with all the investors to plead his case. If the building was erected the buyers would come. This was his last song and dance.
He had that meeting this morning, forcing me to drive myself to the station. My poor little Prius often sat in the driveway feeling unloved and underappreciated. I didn’t feel like driving the Range Rover or the Audi, so I hopped in my single-chick car and headed to the city. As I approached my exit, I tried to brake. The car was still going fifty miles an hour. I tried to swerve over to the shoulder, but I was afraid I would run into the side rail. My heart was trapped in my throat, and of all the things to do, I closed my eyes. If I was going to have an accident, I certainly didn’t want to see it. I heard the speed strips rumble as my tires rolled over them. It seemed like an eternity but I found a section of the expressway with a patch of grass on the shoulder and steered the car in that direction. Finally, the car rolled to a stop. It took me a long time to catch my breath. There had been several Toyota recalls because of faulty brakes and I couldn’t believe it had happened to me. My body was shaking and my baby flipped uncontrollably inside me. I was so unsure of what to do. Although I really didn’t want to interrupt, I called Cam and of course he didn’t answer.
Then I figured it would probably be best if I called Aaliyah. She answered, “Why aren’t you at work, fat mama?”
“Well, fat mama’s brakes gave out.”
“What, the brakes on your car? Are you kidding me?”
“Nope, I’m riding down 400 and I go to get off on the ramp and my car wasn’t slowing down.”
“What the heck? That’s crazy. Toyota better be glad nothing happened to you.”
“I know. Right? It was so scary. I sat here for like five minutes before calling anyone. I can’t believe this happened.”
“Girl, where are you? I will be there shortly.”
“Thanks, Sister.”
“I know the girls are like, damn, we always going to rescue Auntie.”
I laughed but it really wasn’t funny. I told her where I was and she said she was on her way. I called Quentin to let him know about the accident and tell him that I was still coming in. He told me to take my time. I called GEICO so it could tow the car and was told a tow truck would arrive in less than thirty minutes.
I wasn’t in the mood for anything anymore, least of all car issues. I debated whether I should have Aaliyah take me home or not. There was no telling if Cam was going to be done by the time I was finished and I wasn’t sure I wanted to wait. All I needed was sleep. My feet were swollen. I was heavier than I’d ever imagined I would be.
I knew I should have stayed home and not contaminated the world with my negative emotions, but I’d pressed my way through it anyway. When I felt like this, the worst things happened.
It seemed like forever before Aaliyah came and finally chased away all those dark feelings that were floating through my head. When she pulled up, I looked at my watch and it had only been twenty minutes. But I guess the way I was feeling, any extended period of time alone was too much.
She beeped the horn and cars sped rapidly by. Suddenly I felt a sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach. I was scared to get out. Every car that passed shook my little car. Aaliyah called, “Ayana, what you waiting for? The second coming of Jesus?”
“No, girl. These cars are speeding. I’m scared.”
“Well, climb over into the passenger seat and get out on that side.”
I rolled my eyes. How did she expect for me to move all two-hundred-plus pounds of me to the passenger seat? Well, that wasn’t possible and the only choice I had was to open the door, pray, run in front of my car, and hop in Aaliyah’s passenger seat.
Fear mixed with adrenaline forced me to laugh uncontrollably when I got into the car. Aaliyah laughed too. The girls began to laugh also, but absolutely nothing was funny. Maybe I was just happy to be rescued.
I pondered with Aaliyah whether I should go to work or not. She offered to pick me up afterward and suggested that Mandy could also come get me if Cameron wasn’t available. I decided to go to work. I found myself giving the wrong advice and had to check myself. Even though a talk show was a form of entertainment, I still needed to be positive and not be overopinionated. Quentin gave me a weird look from time to time and I ignored him.
When my segment was done, Quentin asked, “Is everything OK?”
“What? Besides the fact that I’m irritated and pregnant? Or maybe it’s because my car nearly killed me. Or maybe it’s because my husband is missing in action, fighting for our livelihood.”
“I’m sorry. You do have a lot on your plate. You just seem really angry.”
Angry? That was a rather strong description that I had no desire to be associated with. I apologized for anything that might have been offensive. I called Cam and he still didn’t answer. It was Yasmin’s weekend to pick up Caron so I didn’t know exactly where he was or why he hadn’t responded to my desperate SOS.
Quentin offered to drive me home and I took him up on the offer because I didn’t want to disrupt anyone else’s day. On the ride I opened up about my feelings of doubt when it came to the whole relationship. Quentin assured me that it was worth it. He told me that all relationships had their problems, some more extreme than others. He said that as long as Cam and I remained a unit, no one could divide us. He looked into my eyes. “You know all of this, don’t you?”
“Yeah, I know. It doesn’t mean I don’t question a lot.”
“I would be lying if I said I wake up every day jumping for joy that I married my wife. Some days I think I made a big mistake, but the good days outweigh the bad days, right?”
“Yeah, mostly.”
“That’s what makes it worth it. The friendship and partnership that you don’t get with any other relationship. Not with your mother, your father, your sister, brother, best friend. They don’t feel your ups and downs like a spouse. Your partner is compassionate and in the fight with you.”
I laughed. “That sounds like some bullshit I’ve said.”
“Yeah, I probably got it from you. You say all this stuff without thinking but in your own life you want to throw in the towel—”
“No, I’m not throwing in the towel. I’m just saying I have doubts.”
“OK, I can take that.”
I didn’t want to tell him that my doubts were heightened because I hadn’t spoken to Cam since he’d left that morning. There was probably no cause for concern, but I was alarmed and I didn’t know why. Maybe it was because at eight months pregnant, I had imagined my husband wouldn’t allow several hours to pass without returning my phone call.
When I got home, I called the Toyota dealer to see if my car had arrived and to ask about the faulty brakes. The vehicle hadn’t been recalled, so they didn’t understand the issue with my car. The problem I described hadn’t caused any recalls.
“How do you know this is not a new issue that I’ve discovered?”
“We’re not sure but we’ll have our mechanics look at it first thing tomorrow morning and give you a call.”
I huffed. The representative on the phone sounded compassionate. She said, “Ms. Blue, if you need a loaner, just let us know.”
“Nah, I’m good. I have another car. I just want to know what’s wrong with that car. I’m expecting a baby and—”
“I know, I’m one of your fans.” Maybe she was just trying to flatter me so I wouldn’t go off on her. She said, “Yes, when the car came in I was so excited to see your name.”
I smiled. “Thank you. So that means you wouldn’t lie to me about this recall, would you?”
“Definitely not. T
hey’ll look at it in the morning and as soon as they tell me something, I’ll let you know.”
“Deal. What’s your name again?”
“My name is Kiera. Have a good day, Ms. Blue.”
When I hung up, I called Cameron back and still no answer. After I grabbed a bag of tomato basil chips from the pantry and a Snapple from the fridge, I put on my Snuggie and curled up on the couch. The housekeeper had come for the day, so it was clean and peaceful. Caron wasn’t there to run in circles. I almost immediately dozed off. Pregnancy sleep had to be the absolute best sleep of all time. I was seeing stars before I could even finish drinking my tea.
I woke up to what I thought was the sound of the garage door. My head popped up and I looked around. My eyes shifted left and right. I slowly swung my feet around to the floor, because if Cam was home, he should have come in by then. I walked to the kitchen to see if he was coming and I didn’t hear the car running. I opened the garage door. The Audi and the Range Rover were still parked in their spots, the lights were off, and there was no sign that the door had been recently opened. Maybe I was losing my mind. I didn’t want to worry Cam, but I began to get concerned. I wondered if he was OK. So I called again and finally he answered, but he sounded slightly snappy.
“Can you bring me some food?” I asked.
“Yeah, I got you.”
I looked at the time and realized it was after nine at night. Where the hell had he been all day? And why was our communication only one-directional? I didn’t appreciate the insecurity bubbling in my chest. I had to hold it together. This behavior wasn’t normal and I wondered if I should take the understanding route.
When he finally came in, he looked as if he wanted to cry. I asked him to tell me what was wrong before telling him about my car. He sat down on our Restoration Hardware leather sectional with me. He sank in and lay his head back on the top. I swallowed my feelings of rejection and rubbed his head.
“Is everything OK?”
“No.”
“Do you want to talk about it?”