Drama Queen Saga

by La Jill Hunt

  “Sean,” she corrected.

  “That’s right, Sean. And you’re sure you don’t have his number?”

  “No, I just gave him a ride that one night.” Roni looked at him innocently. He almost believed her.

  “Roni, you’re not lying to me, are you? You met this guy at the seminar and you gave him a ride back to your hotel?”

  “His hotel! And what’s with the third degree, Toby? I told you what happened. It’s no big deal. I’ll drop the license in the mail to him tomorrow when I leave school. Damn, why are you tripping all of a sudden?”

  “Why am I tripping? Did I tell you where Jermaine and I went Saturday?”

  “You told me you ran some errands or something.” She walked past him. He grabbed her by the arm and looked her in the face. “What is wrong with you?”

  “Jermaine got a huge contract Saturday for a house in Wheatland Heights.” He watched her face become clouded with confusion and held onto her arm as he spoke. “That’s right, Wheatland Heights. It’s a nice neighborhood. As I was driving through, I was thinking, man, Roni and I will have a house like one of these someday. Have you ever been there?”

  “No,” she said quietly.

  “Don’t lie to me. Please don’t lie to me, Veronica.” He looked at her, eyes wide with shock. He still had a grip on her arm and was determined not to let go. She stared back at him, saying nothing. “Tell me who Sean is.”

  “I told you,” she whispered.

  “I saw you, Roni! I was there at Stanley’s house when you were frolicking in the backyard by the pool! ‘Don’t wet my hair!’ Remember? Isley Brothers blasting from the surround-sound. You were having a ball. You and Sean.”

  “Toby, please.”

  “Please what? Oh, now you wanna talk? Well, I don’t wanna hear it. You been with this nigga since last week, Roni? You spent the weekend with him. I wonder how many other seminars you’ve been to with Sean, huh? Correction—no, I don’t wanna know how many other ones. Seminar, my ass!” he yelled. She flinched and he released her arm. He walked out, and she chased behind him.

  “Toby, I need to talk to you. Don’t leave like this, baby. Please.”

  He got into his truck and drove off. He was tempted to look back but didn’t. He couldn’t believe that she had tried to play him. He had pondered all weekend about how he would approach the subject with her. He knew she would deny it initially; that was why he gave her the opportunity to come clean. But she didn’t, and that disappointed him. He was more hurt by the fact that she tried to lie about the situation than he was about catching her with another man.

  He drove around aimlessly for an hour, eventually winding up at Jasper’s. There were a few cars in the parking lot, although it was only 6:00. He didn’t understand why he was torturing himself by thinking about the last time he was here, the night he proposed. His emotions were sending him into a combined state of confusion and devastation. For most of his adult life, Jasper’s was the comfort zone he could go to whenever his life was filled with turmoil. He could hear soft jazz playing as he walked in and headed straight for the bar.

  “Tobias, man, what a nice surprise,” Uncle Jay called from behind the bar.

  “Hey, Uncle Jay. What’s going on?”

  “Nothing much. What’ll it be? The usual?”

  “I don’t even know, Uncle Jay,” Toby said, looking at the bottles of liquor on the glass shelves behind the bar. “I may need something a little stronger today.”

  “What? It can’t be that bad.” The older man looked at Toby with his face full of concern. Monica, one of the regular waitresses, walked up and put in a drink order. She made small talk with Toby while Uncle Jay prepared the beverages.

  “Uncle Jay, why are you tending the bar?”

  “We’re short-staffed tonight. Well, actually, we’re short-staffed every Sunday since business picked up. Word got out about the kitchen being open at five. I guess that’s a good thing, huh? So, I fill in back here.”

  “It’s gonna be really busy tonight because we’re short-staffed in the kitchen too,” the waitress said, picking up the tray of drinks. “Nice seeing you again, Toby.”

  “Uncle Jay, why didn’t you tell me you needed help? I’ll work the bar for you tonight,” Toby stood up and told him.

  “You don’t have to do that, Tobias. You came in here to drink yourself. Seems to me like you already got enough on your mind.” Uncle Jay leaned on the bar. “Now, tell me what the problem is.”

  “I don’t have a problem, Uncle Jay. Go ahead and work the kitchen. I got this out here,” he told him. When his uncle hesitated, he assured him, “I want to do it, Uncle Jay.”

  “Well, once the evening crowd is served then I can come back out here. I appreciate this, Tobias. I really do.” Uncle Jay removed his apron and Toby made his way to the back of the bar. “You sure you know what you’re doing?”

  “I learned from the best, Uncle Jay. You taught me well.” Toby smiled.

  People began coming in the door, and soon Toby was hard at work. The wait staff was patient and friendly as he racked his brain in an effort to remember how to mix drinks and cocktails. Monica teased him, but she helped out a lot. Uncle Jay is right; this place is the spot on Sundays.

  Toby was in the middle of making a round of Harvey Wallbangers for a rowdy bunch when someone yelled, “Can a brother get some service?”

  “Coming right up,” he called and carefully handed the loaded tray of drinks to the server. He looked up to see his brother sitting with his back to the bar, checking out the scene. “What the hell are you doing here?”

  “What are you doing behind the bar?”

  “Helping Uncle Jay out.”

  “I feel you. This place is really jumping, huh? I heard them talking about it at work.”

  “Yeah, I think it has a lot to do with Liquid,” he said, pointing to the band that was setting up. “What are you drinking?”

  “Ginger Ale.”

  “You came all the way to Jasper’s for a ginger ale?”

  “That and the atmosphere, of course.” He gestured toward a table full of females, laughing and talking. One woman waved for Terrell to come over, but he shook his head and waved back, surprising Toby. Maybe he is changing his ways, he thought.

  The two men made small talk as Toby continued to work the bar. He noticed Terrell seemed distant, but he was too preoccupied with his own drama to even ask what was wrong.

  “Get this,” the waitress said as she walked up to the counter. She had to yell in order to be heard over the band. “This chick ordered something called a Slow Screwball or something. I told her you wouldn’t know what it was.”

  “A what?”

  “Maybe it was a Screwball with Sloe gin.” She tilted her head to the side.

  “Go make sure what she wants,” Toby told her and began filling other orders. Soon she popped back at the bar, smiling at him. “Did you find out what she wanted?”

  “Yeah. A slow, comfy screw.”

  He leaned closer to make sure he understood what she was saying. “What did you say?”

  “A Slow Comfortable Screw.” The voice came over Monica’s shoulder, causing Toby to damn near drop the bottle of Courvoisier he was holding. His eyes met hers and they stared at each other for what seemed like a lifetime. Her hair was cut short, yet it did nothing but enhance her deep-set, keen eyes, and broad cheekbones. Her face was exquisite, and he thought that even if she had shaved her head bald, it would only make her more beautiful than she already was.

  “Yeah, that’s it.” Monica smiled. “A Slow Comfortable Screw.”

  “Damn, Isis, you look good as hell.” Terrell stood up and walked over to her. She gave him a hug, but her eyes never left Toby’s.

  “You’re not looking so bad yourself, Terrell. Hi, Toby.”

  “What’s up, Isis?”

  “You wanna just sit here at the bar instead of your table?” Monica asked. “I already put your food order in to the kitchen.”

>   “Sure, that’s fine,” Isis told her. “If these two gentlemen don’t mind me joining them.”

  “Heck naw. Besides, Toby’s the bartender anyway. He doesn’t count.” Terrell grinned as Isis took a seat next to him. “Where the hell you been? I mean, you showed up at the proposal and graced us with a song, and the next thing I knew, you were ghost and we ain’t seen you since. What’s up with that?”

  “I was only in town for one night. It was a beautiful proposal. I have to admit I was impressed.” She looked over at Toby. “You two looked very happy together.”

  Toby thanked her and began mixing her drink. He concentrated on mixing the exact amounts of Sloe gin, Southern Comfort, vodka and Galliano, but instead of orange juice, he used pineapple, topping it off with two cherries, the way he knew she liked it. It had to be perfect.

  “So, you’re visiting again?” Terrell asked.

  “Yeah, for a minute. You know how I do,” she answered.

  “Meeko was pissed that you came to town and didn’t holler at her. I thought she was your girl.”

  “She is. I called her and explained what happened.”

  “We saw her at the club a few weeks ago. When was that, Toby?”

  “About a month ago,” Toby said, placing the drink in front of her.

  “Why thank you, Isaac—I mean Toby.” She winked.

  “Oh, you got jokes, huh?” He grinned. Her smile met his and she picked up the glass. “Should we toast?”

  “I think we should.” Terrell held his glass up as well.

  “Toby, you’re not joining us?” Isis asked.

  He grabbed a glass and filled it with soda, lifting it to theirs. “To old friends.”

  “To old friends,” they repeated. He watched Isis take a long swallow of her drink.

  “Perfect,” she told him.

  The bar got busy and Toby got back to work. He eavesdropped as Terrell began filling Isis in on the latest gossip and caught her up on the people they knew. She tossed her head back in laughter; it sounded like music to Toby’s ears.

  “Your food should be out in just a few minutes,” Monica said as she walked up to the bar with another order of drinks for Toby to fill.

  “Thanks,” Isis replied. She looked up and caught Toby staring at her again. He smiled, knowing he was straight busted.

  “Uh, hello. Can my customers get their drink on, please?” Monica snapped her fingers at Toby. He snapped back to reality and had Monica repeat the order.

  “Hey, check it out. Why don’t I take over for a little while, Toby? You and Isis can talk,” Terrell suggested. Toby didn’t know how to respond. He looked over at his brother, who was already headed behind the bar.

  “What are you doing?” he whispered as Terrell pulled on a white apron emblazoned with the Jasper’s logo.

  “Helping out.” Terrell raised his eyebrows as he answered. “There’s no point in you staring at each other all night and her sitting at the bar acting like I’m doing standup. Go sit down and talk. Well, never mind. It’s too late. She’s already gone.”

  Toby turned to see that the space where Isis had been sitting was now empty. He looked around the club, but she was nowhere to be found. There was no way to hide the disappointment he felt. Stop tripping. You didn’t have no business sweating her like that anyway. Her leaving is a good thing. You are engaged, remember?

  “Yeah, you’re right,” he told himself aloud.

  “Right about what?” Terrell asked.

  “Nothing.” He stood in silence, still scanning the crowd, hoping to find her. The faces of people laughing and enjoying themselves were too much for him.

  It had been a hell of a day and he decided it was time for him to leave. “I gotta go talk to Uncle Jay. I’ll be right back.”

  Terry nodded and began talking with some female patrons who were now sitting at the bar. Toby set off to find his uncle. He was about to enter the kitchen when the door swung open. Monica walked out carrying a tray of food. He held it open for her.

  “Thanks. Tell your friend I’ll bring her food to her as soon as I take care of this other table.”

  “Don’t bother. She dipped.”

  “What?”

  “She left. I’m leaving too. Terry’s gonna work the bar. Where’s Uncle Jay?”

  “Back there.” She nodded, looking at him strangely. “I can’t believe she left.”

  “Believe it. She’s known for pulling disappearing stunts like that. Not the first time, won’t be the last,” he replied.

  He found Uncle Jay piling plates with his famous fried catfish and potato salad. “Uncle Jay, I’m leaving.”

  “So soon? I thought you were gonna help me close up,” his uncle said jokingly. “Thanks for pitching in tonight, Toby. I guess I can get outta this hot kitchen now. Especially since the cook finally showed up.”

  “Terry took over the bar, so you can relax for a little while, Uncle Jay.”

  “Terry? When did he get here?”

  “About an hour ago. He’s got everything under control out there. You know him.”

  “Yeah, he’s probably out there giving out drinks in exchange for telephone numbers.” Uncle Jay laughed. “I sure appreciate you boys. Can you believe how busy this place has gotten? That band packs a house, I tell you.”

  “Yeah, Uncle Jay.” Toby sighed.

  “Something wrong, Tobias? What’s on your mind?” Uncle Jay continued piling plates as he talked, peering at Toby over his wire-rimmed glasses.

  Toby inhaled deeply, not knowing where to start. He didn’t want to put his and Roni’s business out there, but he needed to talk to someone. Uncle Jay had always been the father they never had.

  “Toby, you are such a liar!”

  Toby frowned at Monica as she walked past him, reaching for the trays of food.

  “What are talking about, ghetto girl?”

  “That girl is sitting right in the back, waiting on you.

  “Where?”

  “What girl?”

  Toby and Uncle Jay spoke at the same time.

  “Some girl he and Terry were talking to,” Monica answered. “She’s at the table in the far left corner.”

  “Is that her food?” Toby asked.

  “Yep.”

  “Show me where she is.” He turned to Uncle Jay. “Can I get a plate?”

  “Humph. I thought you were leaving,” Uncle Jay said suspiciously. “Who’s out there?”

  “Isis.”

  “The singing girl?” Uncle Jay’s eyes lit up and Toby couldn’t help smiling. “I ain’t even gonna ask.”

  “Please don’t,” he replied. His uncle fixed him a plate and placed it on the tray next to the plate for Isis. “Thanks, Uncle Jay.”

  He followed Monica out of the kitchen. She pointed to a secluded table located in the far corner of the restaurant. He thanked her and made his way through the crowd, balancing the tray. The saxophone player was playing a killer rendition of “For the Love of You” by the Isley Brothers. Isis was bobbing to the beat of the music and her eyes were closed. She was zoning, and he was tempted not to disturb her.

  She looked up and saw him standing there. “So, you’re the waiter too?”

  “Don’t hate because I’m multitalented,” he replied, putting her plate in front of her.

  “I was beginning to wonder if you had decided not to join me. I know you’re an engaged man, Toby. I ain’t trying to start no stuff.”

  “You’re good,” he said, taking the seat next to hers. “So, what’s been up with you? You just dip and no one has seen or heard from you in damn near two years.”

  “I did a little bit of traveling. Stayed with some family out west for a bit, and now I guess I’ve made my way back here.”

  “You could’ve called and let someone know you were okay. I mean, I thought we were cool. Hell, I thought we were better than cool.”

  “You’re right, Toby, and I’m sorry. But my head was all messed up, and I just needed to get away from everything
and everybody. We were more than cool, and we always will be. You know that.” She reached across the table and covered his hand with hers.

  Toby looked at Isis and shook his head. “I guess it’s just good to know that you’re okay. And yeah, we’ll always be cool.”

  She gave him a relieved smile and asked, “Anyway, where is your fiancée?”

  Roni was the last thing Toby wanted to talk about right now, especially after the conversation he had with her earlier. He could feel his previous anger growing and pushed it down further. His only response to Isis’s question was to shake his head as he began picking at his food. He still could not believe he caught Roni cheating.

  “Toby, what’s wrong? I know I’ve been gone for a minute, but I’m still me. If you wanna talk, I can listen.” Isis picked a piece of fish off her plate and bit into it. “Mmm, good.”

  He raised his eyes from the plate and looked up at her. “I just found out some things that are making me question my decision to get married right now.”

  “Big things or little things?”

  “Both.”

  “Things about her, things about you, or things about marriage?”

  He thought about that question long and hard. There was the fact that Roni didn’t want children, how she questioned his decisions and challenged him constantly, and now the fact that he had just caught her cheating. These were just a few of the things that were causing him to be doubtful that they were ready for marriage.

  “Okay, no answer. Well, let me ask you this: Have you talked to her about it?”

  “Not yet.”

  “Then maybe that’s where you should start.”

  “Simple as that, huh?”

  “Yep, simple as that. No point in speculating without communicating. Talking is the most important part of the relationship. How long have you two been together?”

  “A year in July.”

  “A year?” she looked surprised.

  “What?”

  “Nothing. I just thought you had been with her longer,” she shrugged.

  “Nope, only a year.”

  “She’s a pretty special girl.”

  “What makes you say that?” he asked, knowing that they had never met.

  “She got you to turn in your player’s card and commit to her. Only an exceptional woman can do that. She got you to marry her,” she said matter-of-factly.