by B. M. Hardin
“No, I love her. I'm in love with her.”
I heard Deondre say and I smiled. But as soon as the smile had come about it quickly faded with what I heard next.
“No, you don't, you love me.” he said.
What? What in the hell did he mean by that?
“No, I used to love you, now, I love her.” Deondre argued.
My mind went blank. I could still hear them going back and forth but I was too busy consumed with my own thoughts. Deondre was gay...is gay? Or had been gay? How could that be? He was so manly. Hell, he was my manly man. And he was gay?
Don’t get me wrong, nothing against men who enjoy other men.
Some of the coolest, most loving men that I have ever known were those of the ‘fabulous’ types, but I just couldn’t be in a relationship with one of them. That just wasn’t my thing. Never had been, never would be.
I guessed that down low thing was true after all, just didn’t know I would ever experience it firsthand. I mean if you like it, I love it but be true to you. Don't walk around deceiving people because you’re unsure of who you want to be or who you want to do.
The main issue was that Deondre had lied to me. Deceived me. I began to hear my heart breaking. I really thought, and wanted him to be the one. I wanted to cry but the tears just wouldn’t seem to fall. The biggest reason was because not only was I hurt but I was disgusted, angry. My throat started to itch as I thought about the things I had done with it earlier that night. I had been putting my mouth on him and the whole time he had been putting his---
Okay, now, I was furious and I wanted to make a scene.
I had been so caught up in my own thoughts that I hadn’t noticed that everything else had gone quiet.
I peeped my head into Deondre's bedroom and from the view inside my eyes instantly grew as big as golf balls. Deondre was laid across the bed with his eyes closed and the mystery man was on his knees, in between Deondre’s legs servicing him, mimicking my mouth actions, just like I had been a few hours ago. Before I could catch myself, or hold my tongue, I screamed out in aggravation to keep myself from throwing up everything I had eaten a week ago.
“You are so damn nasty!”
Deondre opened his eyes and pushed the man's head away from his still standing at attention penis. Looking at the strange man in his very expensive business attire, I figured he was around here fooling people as well. When I spotted the wedding ring on his left hand, I felt so sorry for whoever his wife was.
Bet she didn’t know his dirty little secret and he had better been glad and considered himself blessed that I had no way of finding out just who she was because I would most definitely tell on his lying, cheating, married ass.
“You mean to tell me that all this time, you've been gay?” I stated in disbelief.
“I am not gay, Kasey. I am, I was bi-sexual. That was before I met you.” he pleaded.
“Was?” I smirked, sarcastically, giving eye contact to the strange man still on his knees. I was so overwhelmed and I felt as though I was going to be sick. I simply threw my hands up and turned and walked away. Arguing about him about his sexuality was pointless.
He continued to try and explain himself to me. I heard him but he was wasting his time and mine. I ignored his explanations, found my phone, hit him in the face with his keys, kicked out his driver side window of his car and made my way to the bus stop.
~***~
That night, I dreamed of all the things I hoped my future consisted of. I dreamed of happiness. True happiness or at least what I wanted my happiness to be. I could see my big white house so clearly. There, with me, lived my husband and two beautiful children. I dreamt that I was happier than I had ever been before. God knows I just wanted to be happy. I felt like I was living but that I hadn’t truly begun to live. I continued the dreams of my short lived fairytale, with a smile on my face. Whoever said that dreams do come true...please let them have been right.
~*********************~
~* Hard times are meant to make you stronger. If you never go through anything you never truly learn what it means to be grateful. *~
~* Anonymous
*Chapter Two*
Surprisingly, the Outreach agencies were able to pull some strings and get my power back on. I had until next Wednesday before the pay arrangement on my lights would expire so I had to get on my grind and make some things happen...whatever that means. I didn’t even know where to start. But I knew I was tired of starting over.
I sat quietly at the bus stop beside a woman and her three kids. They had welfare written all over them, trust me, I knew the look. My whole childhood, I was that look. I could tell that the mother was exhausted, tired; overwhelmed. The oldest child held on to her hand as if she knew that her mama needed to be comforted but she was only about five or six so she did what she could. She reminded me of my oldest sister Tasia and how she tried to always be there for our mama after daddy left. I remembered how her and mama would sit around the kitchen table and discuss money and bills as if she was the other head of the house, but in more ways than one, she was.
She was the one that took care of us while mama worked long hours. She did most of the cooking, cleaning, and everything else in between. She was the last person I saw at night as she bathed me and tucked me in and the first person I saw in the morning when she brushed my hair and got me ready for school. She had such big shoes to fill but she did it and never complained, not even once.
None of the woman at the bus stop, kids looked alike, not even a little bit, so my guess was that they all had different daddies. I felt myself become just a little mad and sad all at the same time. I was mad because it upset me to see any child coming up the way I had to. And I was sure things were worse today than they were back then. Times had changed and kids today were so cruel. I remember getting teased and picked on back then because of the way I looked and because of the hand-me-down clothes I shamefully wore. I could only imagine how it was these days for them. And I was saddened because I all too clearly remembered those hungry nights, those lightless nights, and I wished with all my might that they weren’t going through the same thing. I wished that some way I could help them, but reality was, hell I couldn’t even help myself. Blanking the tears away and concentrating with all of my might to take my focus off of them, I looked at the cars passing by. I envied the Mercedes Benz's and all of the BMW's that zoomed by in hopes of catching the changing light. Hell I was even jealous of all the beat up cars and pintos that passed me by. At least they had something to call their own. At least they had more than I had.
I found out that my unemployment was going to be pretty much nothing, so I was applying for any and every position I could. Qualified or not, somebody, everybody was going to see Kasey Barnett’s resume. Who in the hell could live off of a hundred dollars a week? The unemployment office might as well have kept that bull crap to themselves. I made more than that being a waitress...well most of the time.
Two days into my desperate search for new employment, and panic and stress had started to settle in. I was on the edge of finding me a bike and delivering newspapers. Seriously.
But thank God and to my surprise, out of nowhere the diner called to offer me my job back. I don’t know why and really didn’t care.
I admit, my pride wanted to tell them to kiss my ass and to go to hell for firing me in the first place, but by that time I was so desperate, so I agreed the with no hesitation. Anything, any income was better than no income.
"Sir, how much change would you like back?"
"None. Keep it." he smiled.
I returned the smile, blushed, and hurriedly stuffed the hundred dollar bill in my apron, before he changed his mind. I somewhat felt like a small mouse that had just discovered a big chunk of cheese. And though I was more than used to receiving tips, for some reason, from him, it felt like charity. Maybe it was because he was so damn fine.
Of course he was out of my league, but it never hurt anybody to window shop.
> He sat there, effortlessly, looking like a tall glass of ice cold water on a hot summer day. He was wearing an Armani suit, looking even sharper than the crisp hundred dollar bill that he had just given to me. He had smooth, chocolate brown skin and he possessed the whitest teeth I had ever seen. They didn’t have one stain on them. Not one. He was sexy from his deep wavy hair, all the way down to his alligator dress shoes. That man was as fine as a 1979 bottle of red wine. And I couldn’t believe that he wasn’t wearing a wedding ring. Yes, I checked...What?... It was a habit.
There just had to be millions of other women drooling over him just like I was. I couldn’t believe he hadn’t chosen one of them already. He must have felt me staring a hole in his ass because before he walked out the door and back out into the busy afternoon lunch crowd of people on the street, he glanced back and smiled at me. I felt a few beads of sweat run down the side of my face and at the exact same time I felt my juices dampen my panties. Again, it had been months since I had been touch and just the sight of him had turned me all the way on. I searching desperately for the off button but it just wasn’t happening any time soon. I was all the way turned on. The mystery man had me all hot and bothered. Well, she was hot, I was bothered. I couldn’t help but think naughty, freaky thoughts. I started to fan myself. If this was the sensation I felt within seconds just from looking at him, I could only imagine how I would feel if I actually had him in my bed.
Wait a minute... what the hell was I thinking?
I barely had a bed. Thinking of the mattress and box
spring on the floor dried my goody bag up so fast and
almost suddenly, her excitement was replaced with
depression. I'm not sure if it was because I hadn’t had a
piece of penis in so long or if it was because I didn’t
have a proper place to entertain the penis and
participate in all the wonderful festivities that came
along with it.
I was confused. She was confused.
After a few more minutes, I rid myself of the thoughts of him as I cleared his table and scooped up the newspaper he had left behind. There wasn’t any reason crying over spilled milk or in this case, wanting something that you know you just couldn’t have.
Not in this lifetime anyway...
Once on break, I decided to scan the classifieds section just to see what companies had taken the time to place a job opening ad... nothing worth applying for as usual.
But there were plenty of roommate ads that caught my attention.
Granted I had been in this city for three long years, I had yet to gain many friends outside of work. Not that I couldn’t, but more so that I was so into making a better life for myself, that I had little to no social life. So, having someone going through as rough of a time as I was and actually agreeing to move in together and split a few bills had never crossed my mind, or even been an option, since the few acquaintances I had were either married or in serious relationships. But now with the options staring me in my face, having a roommate would solve a lot of my problems; especially financially. Now, don't get me wrong, since I've been back at work these last few days, God had definitely been in the blessing business. Including the hundred dollar tip earlier, and three days of working twelve hours shifts, I had managed to get about five hundred dollars in tips.
Also, today, I would get my little paycheck. So for once, I was not exactly broke; technically. But let’s face it, just because things were pretty good this week, next week that five hundred dollars in tips could be more like five dollars. The reality was, I just couldn't afford to live on my own. And since tucking in my tail and running back home as a failure wasn't an option, it was time to try something new. Living with a complete stranger wasn’t the most appealing, but I was packing and I was licensed to use it if I had to. Many thanks to Smith and Wesson.
~***~
The first few apartments and roommates had been awful. I know my small hole in the wall wasn't much but seeing where they lived, I felt like I lived in a mansion.
Nevertheless, I wouldn’t have lived with them to save my life. I would live in a shelter first, I swear I would. So, things weren’t going as well as I had hoped but hopefully things would turn around.
Now getting off the bus at the last one, I immediately got this feeling in the pit of my stomach that I had saved the best for last. This was definitely it; hopefully. The apartment complex itself was nice, more upscale than the last few and I was even more so surprised that they were only eight hundred dollars a month, which is what the lady had said when I called to get the pricing over the phone. And electricity was included. So, paying my half of just four hundred a month to live in a place like this, was definitely something I could get used to. I was already paying seven, hundred for my little shoebox of an apartment.
Surprisingly, as soon as I knocked she opened the door.
Just out of habit, I looked her up and down. Sure, she wasn’t the prettiest thing I had ever seen but I could tell from the front that her ass was the size of mine... times two... and I had a big, ole country booty. You know you got a big ass when you can see it from the front and when she moved to the side where I could get a better view; I couldn’t do a thing but shake my head.
It definitely had to be something in the water that she was drinking. I made a mental note to ask for something to drink later. Hell, I wanted two or three of them for that matter.
"Hey, I'm Kasey. I'm here about the room for rent?"
"Hey, I'm Shanice but you can call me Niecy. Come on in?"
So, the question was, why did she need a roommate? Walking in her house, it was absolutely gorgeous. Talk about a house that was laid out. She had beautiful gold and cooper furniture, a fifty inch flat screen TV, and a well painted, trimmed in gold African American painting hung gracefully over her tan and white marble fireplace. She rambled on and on as we headed down the hall to the back bedroom. I hardly heard a word she had said since I was too busy checking out my surroundings and her big ole ghetto booty.
The rest of the house was just as stunning as the front. When she opened the door to the bedroom that I would be staying in, to my surprise it was fully furnished. It possessed a freshly made California King bed, with the matching dressers. A forty plus inch hung adjacent to the bed on the opposite wall. The room was beautiful and fully decorated, matching the rest of the house.
“You don't have to use this stuff; I can have it put in storage. This used to be my guestroom, but I'm sure you have your own things that you would like to bring if you decide to live here."
Instantly, I pitched her an full pledged lie about preparing to get rid of all of my things when I moved, so I would need to use hers. It was some of the nicest things I had seen in a long time, and if for a while I could call it mine, that is exactly what I was going to do.
After showing me the rest of the apartment, we headed back to the living room to talk business.
"So, my question is, why in the world do you need a roommate? It seems to me like you have been doing more than good for yourself." I asked.
“Well, my job keeps me on the go. I travel a lot. I actually spend more time in hotels than I do at my own home. Anyway, though the neighborhood looks nice, we have our share of rough necks. Apparently, they have gotten word that I'm hardly ever home and have broken in twice, just in the last month. Luckily, the lady next door heard the ruckus and called the police just in time. So I figured if I got a roommate, someone would be here a little more often and I would also be saving myself a little money." Niecy said.
I guess I could understand her reasons; at least hers were nothing like mine. I was struggling and I needed to be in this situation but I dared not share that with her.
After talking for another hour or two, and after getting my glass of 'booty get like hers' Kool-Aid, we decided to give this roommate thing a shot.
We provided each other with background information just in case we wanted to check out each other but I d
idn’t need to.
I had something for her ass if she ever crossed the line. But for some reason I knew I would probably never have to. Niecy seemed to be a very quiet and private person. I could tell that she was the type to mind her own business, and so was I so I didn’t see why we would have any problems. For her sake, she better had hoped I was right.
Over the next two days I prepared to move. My tips at work had topped another three hundred dollars so to be on the safe side, I decided to go ahead and pay her for two months. Just in case things slowed down again. I was stunned and speechless by my sudden financial turnaround and I was trying my best not to see it as some type of sign. I was trying to think positive and with my luck, I was trying to think safe. But, I had come to terms with my decision and I couldn’t help but wear a smile on my face.
I was on the way to my old apartment to get the last of the few things I was taken with me. Niecy had two cars so she had stated that I could use one of them as long as I needed to so I wouldn’t have to ride the bus. I was feeling like maybe she was my guardian angel or something. She was definitely lending a helping hand, and only God knew just how thankful I was.
Pulling up, immediately, I spotted that pink notice once again on the door. But this time I smiled. I guess I hadn’t needed that pay arrangement after all.
*~ When you least expect good things to happen to you, that's when they actually do.*~
~*Anonymous
*Chapter Three*
Really? Am I really going to have to bust a cap in somebody’s ass?
I grabbed my twenty two and headed for the living room, chasing after the noise... like a dummy. There he was, making his way through the living room window. I've always wondered what it would feel like to shoot somebody, but I sure as hell was about to find out. Is that a little crazy?
He must have had somebody praying for him because at the last minute, right before pulling the trigger, instead of aiming it at him, I decided to shoot at the wall, just a few inches from his head. I've never seen anybody move so fast in my life. It was almost unreal and I couldn't help but laugh.