by Mary Monroe
“Huh? Oh! Um, as soon as I got in the house, Vera hung me up for a few minutes and then I had to discuss some business with Cash.”
“What kind of business did you have to discuss with Cash that couldn’t wait until tomorrow?”
Bo removed his jacket and placed it at the foot of the bed. He took his time answering my question. “Uh, some inventory issues, that’s all. Kenneth and I will be visiting the other four stores tomorrow and after that, we’ll be in meetings the rest of the day. I needed some information from Cash beforehand.” I could see that he was nervous. He kept scratching his neck and clearing his throat. “I’m going to take a quick shower and get some of this funk off me,” he said, smelling under his arms.
I waited until I heard him turn on the shower. Like a jackrabbit, I hopped off the bed and ran to his jacket. I found the letter from Gladys in the first pocket I checked and read it in record time. I couldn’t believe how corny her words were!
My Dearest Bohannon,
I really would like to talk to you. I know you’re not happy with that cow you married and from what Cash has been telling me, how pitiful you look without me. I know I hurt you, but you didn’t let me explain my actions so that’s why I left when I did. And I was afraid that if I stayed, you would have hurt me like you had threatened to do so many times before. I still work at the same place and you know the number. I can meet up with you next week if you go to L.A. with Kenneth for that software conference that Cash told me about. My cell phone number is still the same so I’d like to hear from you.
I love you Bo and I always will.
With all my love and blessings, your Gladys
What the fuck? Who signs a letter “your Gladys”?
It was obvious that Cash had been telling this witch all kinds of shit about me. How else would she know enough about me to call me a cow? And Cash—with his two-faced, backstabbing self—had bashed her in my presence as much as Bo and Vera had!
I was tempted to rip the letter to shreds, but I didn’t. I folded it up, tucked it back into Bo’s pocket, and climbed into bed. He came out of the bathroom a few minutes later with a towel wrapped around his naked body.
“Vera decided she is not going to L.A. with Daddy for that software conference next week,” I said, waiting with bated breath to hear his response.
“She told me.” He sniffed and then started drying his wet hair with the towel. Seeing his naked body didn’t excite me the way it used to. It only made me cringe.
“I’m worried about Daddy going off for almost a whole week by himself, so maybe I’ll go with him.”
“Oh no. You don’t have to do that. I know how much you hate things like those damn conferences,” Bo protested. He sat down hard on the bed, pulling me into his arms. “Uh, well, I’ve decided to go after all.” The way his voice cracked and the way he was sweating—after just coming out of the shower—was enough to convince me that he was up to no good! For one thing, he had already told me that the last thing he wanted to do was attend another conference so soon. He and Daddy had spent four days in Vegas at another one two months ago. Now here he was telling me he was going to another anyway. “If it’s all right with you,” he added.
“Uh-huh. Well, you go on to L.A., then,” I said stiffly. Our marriage was already in the toilet bowl. I just didn’t know which one of us was going to flush it down. “I hope you have a lot of fun.”
Bo made love to me that night. His body was so stiff and tense it felt like I was fucking a tree. He didn’t even kiss me like he usually did when we made love. When I looked into his eyes, he didn’t even acknowledge me. It was like he couldn’t even see me. That made me think that Gladys was the woman on his mind when he rammed into me so hard my head hit the headboard. If so, that made us even because when I came, Curtis was the one on my mind.
Bo and Daddy left for L.A. the following Monday morning. They were supposed to be gone for five days. That Monday evening I called up Curtis again. I almost hung up the phone when a woman with a husky voice answered.
“Hello, is Curtis available?”
“Speak up! I can’t hardly hear you! And hurry up! I got things to do!”
I thought I’d dialed the wrong number. “What number did I reach?” I asked.
“Pffft! What’s wrong with you, girl?! You reached the number you just dialed!”
“Is Curtis available?” I asked again, and much louder.
“Naw! He ain’t here!” I had encountered a lot of angry black women in my life, but this one sounded like she was on fire.
“Do you think he’ll be home soon?”
“He might be, and he might not! You have to call back if you really want to know! Shoot!” She hung up before I could tell her who I was. I called four more times that day until Curtis answered.
“Hello, Sarah. Mama told me you called.”
“I didn’t even leave my name!” I gasped. “How did she know it was me?”
“She didn’t. You’re the only woman who calls me here these days.” He laughed. “When Mama said some ‘proper-sounding gal’ called, I knew it had to be you.”
“Can I come see you?”
“Sarah, we’ve talked about this. Have you already forgotten our last conversation? You said that you didn’t want to see me again because of your husband.”
“I might not be with Bo too much longer.”
“You what?”
“He’s probably going back to Houston to get back with his ex.”
“Probably? So you don’t know for sure if he is or not?”
“No, I don’t know for sure. But there is a chance that he will.”
“So it’s just a chance that he might be moving back to Houston?”
“A chance is better than nothing!”
“Look, Sarah. I don’t know what’s going on between you and your husband, but I don’t want to get caught in the middle. He’s been giving me some mysterious looks lately, so I need to watch my step.”
“Well, I don’t know why he’s been giving you mysterious looks.”
“I don’t want to find out. The thing is, I don’t think we should see each other again. Especially now that you think Bo suspects we’re involved.”
“All right,” I replied slowly. As much as I knew I needed to end this call, I still wanted to prolong it as long as possible. “If that’s the way you want it, I won’t call you again.”
“Wait! Don’t hang up yet. I just thought about what you said about Bo possibly going back to his ex-wife. What makes you think that? He loves his job, so why would he want to give it up to move back to Houston and start over again?”
“I don’t know.”
“Has he been talking to his ex?”
“She sent him a letter through Cash.”
“Oh. Did you see the letter?”
“Yes, I did. I think Bo changed his mind about going to L.A. so he could meet up with her there.”
“I’m surprised to hear that. You told me she had been the wife from hell to him. Going back to a woman like that is not something a smart man like Bo would do.”
“Maybe Bo’s not as smart as you think he is.” I sighed. “Well, I’ll let you go now. And you don’t have to worry, I won’t bother you anymore.”
“Sarah, wait! Don’t hang up yet. Um . . . you know I want to continue seeing you, but things are kind of hot right now. It wouldn’t be too cool for you to come over here. I have some nosy-ass neighbors, and the less they see you over here, the better.”
“So you do still want to be with me?”
“I do,” he muttered, releasing a long, drawn-out sigh.
“Do you want to meet me someplace else other than your apartment?” I didn’t give Curtis a chance to answer my question. “We can get a room across the Bay.”
He took his time responding. That made me even more anxious to see him. If he still wanted to see me . . . “Uh, let me think about it.”
“Don’t make me wait too long, Curtis. I’ve waited long enough.”
CHAPTER 50
VERA
EVEN THOUGH DR. LOTT HAD TOLD ME NOT TO WORRY ABOUT THE bleeding, I was worried now because I’d been bleeding every day for a week. I had already gone through menopause and had not had a period in over ten years. I hated walking around with a bloody pussy again after so many years, so I was anxious to have something done to end it. The main reason was that I wanted to get on with my sex life.
I believed that the longer I let this unpleasant issue go, the worse it would get. Yesterday I had bled so heavily, the tampon I’d inserted had been useless. I’d found that out at the most inconvenient time. I had gone to a specialty market in Chinatown to pick up a few gourmet items, like some black goat cheese and caviar. While I was standing in the checkout line, I got this funny feeling between my thighs. It felt like I was peeing on myself. Anyway, I looked down and was horrified when I saw blood dripping onto my handmade Italian sandals, not to mention my silk-wrapped toenails. I almost fainted. I didn’t even wait around to pay for the items I had picked up. I dropped them onto the counter and flew out the door like the place was on fire.
I didn’t want to mess up the seat in my spotless Ferrari, so I ran to a newspaper rack on the sidewalk and got four copies of the San Francisco Chronicle. I used the newspapers as padding on my car seat. I made it back home and into my bathroom by the skin of my teeth. Not only had the blood soaked through my tampon, it had pushed the tampon completely out. It sat in the crotch of my panties along with a blood clot the size, shape, and color of a plum. I immediately called my doctor’s office. Dr. Lott was on a conference call, but I made such a fuss, his receptionist put me on hold and a minute later Dr. Lott was on the line.
“Look, Dr. Lott, I’ve been bleeding like a damn hemophiliac all day!” I roared. “I’m scared to leave the house or sit on anything for more than a few minutes because I’m flowing so heavily. Blood dripped through my underwear and down my legs while I was in a checkout line a little while ago.”
“Hmmm. Well, in addition to a tampon, for more security try wearing a maxipad as well,” the good doctor said in a calm voice, which was easy for him or any other man to do. There was not a man alive who could truly understand what we women had to go through with our bodies. Not even the men who had undergone that sex change operation that turned them into women. “That should take care of the problem. If it doesn’t, we’ll consider other protective options.”
“Other protective options? Bah! If you’re talking about adult diapers, no way. Now, there has got to be something you can do to end this mess! I need to take care of this problem immediately!”
“Mrs. Lomax, calm down. I’ve explained to you that this is a very common problem among women your age—”
“Bullshit! I don’t care if it is. I want it to end and I want it to end NOW!”
“As I’ve told you, we can do a minor procedure to eliminate the problem. I can remove the fibroids that are causing the bleeding. But that would be like going after a fly with a shotgun. I’ve also told you that because you’re at the postmenopausal stage, all of your fibroid tumors will eventually shrink to a point where they will hardly even be detectable. As a matter of fact, the last time I examined you, I noticed they had already shrunk considerably from their original size. However, if the bleeding becomes more serious within the next day or so and begins to disrupt your usual activities, including ones of a, uh, sexual nature, let me know.”
My sexual activities had already been disrupted long enough. I wanted to see Ricky as much as he wanted to see me. And the one thing I knew about young men was that if they got too horny and couldn’t control themselves, they’d stick their dick into the first available female if they had to. The bleeding got so bad after I got off the telephone with Dr. Lott, I called him back twenty minutes later and told him he had to do something or I was going to change doctors.
He modified his schedule and arranged for me to have “emergency” surgery the following day, which was a Wednesday. I’d check into the hospital in the morning and be out by the middle of the afternoon.
Kenneth and Bo had left for L.A. the day before. I saw no reason for me to tell either one of them, or anybody else, that I was going to have the surgery. My numerous and frequent cosmetic surgeries were no secret, but when I had to deal with a female-related issue, I chose to keep that information to myself. For one thing, I didn’t want Kenneth to cut his trip short and come back home. And I didn’t want Collette to know because I didn’t like the way she always brought up my age whenever I had a medical issue, even my cosmetic surgeries.
Despite the fact that having a few fibroid tumors removed was a minor surgery, Dr. Lott had made it clear that afterward I couldn’t drive myself home or be sent home in a taxi. Our chauffeur was on vacation, so he couldn’t drive me to and from the hospital like he did when I had my cosmetic procedures. Since I didn’t trust any of my few female acquaintances, Sarah was the only person I could turn to. She had nothing but time on her hands these days and I knew she’d keep her mouth shut if I told her to.
“Are you sure you don’t want Daddy to know about you having surgery?” she asked as she drove me to the hospital that Wednesday morning. “What if something goes wrong? You could die like James Brown’s wife did during her minor surgery. Kanye West’s mama died during surgery too. And what about Usher’s ex-wife? She almost died, too, when she—”
“I am not going to die, Sarah. I’ve been having surgeries done most of my life and I’m still here. Besides, Kenneth has enough to worry about without me adding to it.”
My surgery went well. As soon as the anesthesia wore off, I tumbled out of the hospital bed and hobbled to the bathroom. I was delighted not to see even a speck of blood. I was as good as new.
Sarah picked me up a little after 4:00 p.m. and drove me home. As soon as I got inside, I scrambled up the stairs to the third floor, puffing like a dying horse. I scolded myself because I had not insisted on Kenneth having an elevator installed so we would not have to climb so many damn steps to get to our bedroom. Sarah was right behind me yelling, “Vera, stop running! Take it easy before you hemorrhage or something.”
I ignored her command. I didn’t stop running until I reached my bedroom bathroom. “You can have these,” I said to Sarah with a chuckle, handing her what was left in the box of tampons and heavy-duty Kotex I had purchased. I exhaled and was smiling until I saw my reflection in the mirror over the sink. I didn’t like what I saw. Without makeup, I looked like an old hag. I was anxious for Sarah to leave my side so I could resume my normal daily activities. And the first thing I wanted to do was take a long hot shower and put on some makeup.
“I probably won’t need any of those things for a while,” she told me with a faint smile. I had started to walk away, but Sarah’s words made me stop in my tracks.
“Why not? Are you pregnant again?” I asked, wanting to cross my fingers.
“No. I just got off my period yesterday. But when Bo gets back home, I want to get started on getting pregnant again.”
“Oh,” I said, smiling to hide my disappointment that she was not pregnant. “I hope you’ll get pregnant again real soon.”
Dr. Lott told me I had to wait a whole month before I could have sex again. It was going to be one of the most difficult things I ever had to do in my life. And since Ricky was so damn irresistible, I knew I couldn’t even be in his presence without wrestling him to his bed. I decided to not even visit his apartment for that month.
“Aw shit, baby. What am I going to do for a whole month? It’s already been too long since the last time we had some fun,” he whined when I called him up and told him. I had called him from my cell phone in my bedroom. “Can’t you even come by and just play with me a little bit?”
When it came to sex, I didn’t “play.” I didn’t do hand jobs because I had decided when I was a young girl that that was beneath me. That was for teenage boys, in
mates, and perverts. I gave a mean blow job, but I didn’t even want to visit Ricky tonight if that was all I could do. There was nothing in a blow job for me. And my pussy was too sensitive from the surgery for me to let him eat me out. It would be hard, but I could survive for a month. Then I would make up for all the lost time. The very thought of all the fun I was going to have made me tingle.
“I’ll see you in a month,” I promised, spreading my thighs and gently fingering myself to make sure I was still dry. “But I’ll call you up every day.”
“Will you talk dirty to me when you call?”
That was another thing. “Talking dirty” was beneath me, too, but I didn’t mind doing it if it turned my man on. I especially didn’t mind doing it when Ricky was on top of me, but I couldn’t see myself sitting with a telephone in my hand talking trash. I hadn’t done anything that vile since some of my desperate girlfriends and I had worked as telephone sex operators in high school.
I’d find something to keep myself busy for the month, which meant I’d do some serious shopping.
An hour after Sarah had brought me home and fixed me some hot green tea, she left the house to go get her nails done, or so she claimed. I prayed, for her sake, that she was not still sniffing after that lowlife security guard or anybody else. I didn’t know what kind of sex life she had with Bo these days, but if she was half as frustrated as I was, I could understand her going outside of her marriage. I just hoped that she was as sly as I was and didn’t get caught.
I couldn’t stop thinking about something Bo had told me after we’d confronted Sarah about getting too friendly with Curtis. “If she ever leaves me, I’m going to kill her.”
I didn’t think he’d go that far. But if he did, we would all be up shit creek without a paddle.
CHAPTER 51
SARAH
A COUPLE OF HOURS HAD PASSED SINCE I’D BROUGHT VERA HOME from the hospital. Since she was in the living room at the bar, and had been for the past hour, I assumed she was doing just fine. I wasn’t, though. I needed to go somewhere I could be completely alone. My head had so many disturbing thoughts and questions floating around in it, I had to sort them out as soon as I could before I lost my mind. I couldn’t even think clearly with her lurking about. And I didn’t want to hole up in my bedroom or any other room in the house.