by Candice Dow
My heart sinks each time I arrive in Connecticut. My feelings of anticipation flip-flop back and forth on the security spectrum. As secure as I feel when I’m with him, I feel just as insecure each time we part; knowing he goes to an apartment with his ex-girlfriend.
After I finally got off of the plane, I casually strolled to the airport in no rush, because Scooter will not arrive at the hotel until around eight. When I got out to the shuttle stand, I saw men carrying roses, women accepting them. No one is there to greet me. I take a deep breath. Insecurity again. How could I succumb to sneaking around with another woman’s man? Why did it still feel like she was his woman? I stood in her town feeling like I deserved more. I did deserve more. I leaned onto my other leg and reminded myself of why I was here. Plus he was moving in two weeks. What more could I ask for?
Inside my coat pocket, my cell phone vibrated in my hand. My heart beat rapidly as I pulled it out to read my text message.
GOING TO THE MOVIES AFTER WORK. WILL BE THERE BY TEN.
My insides felt like three-hundred degrees in thirty-degree weather. Smoke exited my mouth as I stretched it wide open while re-reading the message. The phone vibrated again in my palm. I slammed the phone shut and climbed on to the shuttle. I plopped down in my seat. I didn’t want to hear anything else he had to say.
My heaving caught the attention of the older lady beside me. She peeped at me through her big silver bangs. Her shoulders swayed, tapping her upper arm against mine. I huffed, not because of her, but because of me. I leaned my head on the window and watched the unappealing scenery.
She asked, “Do you live here?”
Swishing the left side of my forehead back and forth on the window, I said no.
“Me either.”
I didn’t comment. She continued, “I’m here to see my grandkids.”
I smiled tightly and mumbled, “That’s nice.”
“I live in Ft. Lauderdale. It’s too cold here for me.”
I nodded absently.
“Are you here for work?”
I huffed. My eyes watered. “To see friends.”
“That’s always good. Where are you from?”
If she were ten years younger I would have ignored her, but I felt obligated to answer. I huffed again. “Maryland.”
“Is it cold there?”
I nodded. She finally got the memo, because she stopped talking, and returned to rocking. We pulled up to my hotel, the driver announced, “Westin.”
I got up to climb over the lady when the driver opened the van door. I gave her a fake smile. As if she could read my mind, she said, “Have a good trip honey. Every Valentine’s Day won’t be like this one.”
I took a deep breath and nodded. “Thank you.”
When I stepped into the hotel alone, I felt like eyes were scorning me. With my eyes lowered, I stepped up to the front desk. “I want to check in.”
Before I could tell her my name, she said, “Taylor right?”
I looked up. The same lady from a few weeks ago smiled eagerly at me. I smiled. She reminded me, “I’m Taylor, too. Remember I told you last time.”
She probably knew I was here every other weekend for a damn secret rendezvous. I felt like a hooker. My eyes begged her to understand this screwed up relationship I had become a part of and nodded.
“What’s your last name Taylor?”
I hesitated. Stealing someone’s man made me feel like a felon on the run. It was as if everyone I talked to was a security camera. I cleared my throat. “Jabowski. My last name is Jabowski.”
She typed away at her keyboard for another two minutes or so. She tapped her fingers on the counter and smiled. I sensed compassion in her expression. “I’ll just need your credit card for incidentals.”
I opened my wallet. Initially, I tugged on my GW Alumni Platinum card, but stopped. How does a perfectly intelligent woman end up here? Instead, I handed her my debit card. She swiped it. As I scribbled my information on the card, she put my key cards in the sleeve. “Ms. Jabowski, you’re in room 1015. I think you’ll like your Valentine’s Day gift.”
Maybe Scooter wasn’t being a jerk. Suddenly my anger switched to Taylor, the receptionist. Why did she ruin the surprise? My heart jumped with excitement. When I got on the elevator, I pulled my phone from the holster to finally read Scooter’s second message.
I LOVE YOU.
I blushed. When I reached the tenth floor, I skedaddled to the room at the end of the long hallway hoping to find Scooter there wrapped in a bow. I put my key in the door and said, “Hello.”
There was no response in the dark room. I flicked on the lights and entered a massive penthouse. Knowing that I hadn’t upgraded anything, I was certain that Scooter was in on this. Thinking that I was playing a game of hide-and-seek, I tiptoed around the room. I looked in the closets, under the bed, in the shower. Out of desperation, I even looked in the dresser drawers. Maybe he wasn’t here, but he left a gift. After I exhausted all possibilities, it was clear the only game being played was me. I slouched on the king-sized bed and mumbled, “I am so much smarter than this.”
The answer was revealed to me as I unwound. Taylor, the front desk clerk, knew nothing of Scooter, nor did Scooter prearrange this. She was giving her namesake a gift. Though no one knew my thoughts but me, I was embarrassed.
The Moët in my luggage was screaming my name. I pulled it out and began to celebrate my birthday. After the lecture Courtney gave me before I left, I didn’t want to call her. So, I just sipped.
Eight o’clock came and went. Scooter sent his first message. IS EVERYTHING OKAY?
I wasn’t ready to respond. Nine o’clock came and went. He sent the next message. ARE YOU MAD AT ME?
Finally, I responded. YES.
Again, he wrote. I LOVE YOU.
Ten minutes later he wrote. BE THERE SOON. WHAT ROOM?
Ten o’clock came and I paced the floor. At 10:30, my phone rang. At 10:45, the hotel phone rang. I contemplated.
I swirled the last of the Moët around in the bottle. In a lovely penthouse, alone, drinking his favorite celebratory drink on my birthday, I started to cry.
After an hour of ringing, I felt unsure of my motive. I looked at my cell phone when it rang again. It was Courtney. After a debate with myself, I answered. Attempting to sound happy, I said, “Hey girl. What’s going on?”
She immediately asked, “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.”
“Where’s Scooter?”
I huffed. “Not here yet.”
I paused to allow room for her ranting, but she just breathed. There were uneasy sighs of communication on the line. So I asked. “What’d you do today?”
“I worked late and Mark took me to dinner.”
“Where’s he?”
“Right here.”
Her confidence made me feel worse. Tears rolled down my cheeks, as the hotel phone rang off the hook. Courtney said, “I guess you’re not answering, huh?”
I sighed. “No.”
Instead of expressing her real feelings, she jumped to another topic. “This is the first Valentine’s day in eight years that we haven’t been together.”
I inadvertently sniffed. “I know.”
Mark spoke in the background. “Yeah Taylor, I was looking forward to having two ladies on my arm tonight.”
Courtney shuffled around and I could hear her walking through her long hallway. The pitter-patter from her going down the stairs echoed through the phone. Finally she said, “You feel like talking about it.”
I sniffed again. “How did I get here?”
Blatantly she said, “Arrogance.”
“What?”
She cleared it up. “Confidence.”
“Whatever.”
She said, “Taylor, what happened?”
“He went to the movies.” I huffed. “I’m assuming with his roommate.”
She paused. “Did you think he wouldn’t?”
“He claims that she talks to other men
and they really don’t communicate and . . .”
“But he didn’t say he did not want to take her out, right?”
I sniffed. “No.”
“Taylor, this stuff takes time. As long as she’s in that apartment with him, she is his woman. No matter what he’s told her, he hasn’t left yet. She’s still in first place.
“So when is he supposed to be out of the house?” she asked.
Emphasizing my doubt, I said, “Supposedly the end of the month.”
I waited for her to analyze. She didn’t. I added, “He supposedly found a place and was approved. And . . .”
“So why are you tripping?”
“I dunno,” I said.
She continued, “Even when he moves out, it won’t be completely over until June or July tops.”
I snapped, “June or July?”
She chuckled at my impatience. “Yes Taylor. People don’t break up that easy.”
I pouted. “Why not?”
“Scooter is not going to be blatant about this. Scooter is not a player and never has been.”
“You’re right.”
“So are you going to answer?”
“Whatchu think?”
“Taylor you’re there now. You may as well.”
When I finally picked up the phone, he sounded desperate. “Taylor, I’m sorry. Please forgive me.”
My heart melted as always. I said, “Room 1015”. Then, I slammed the phone down.
My cell phone vibrated. HAPPY VDAY BEAUTIFUL –D.
Devin? That was a surprise. If he was text messaging me at eleven thirty, he was obviously alone on this lovers’ day, too. Then it dawned on me, maybe he was just taking inventory. Maybe I should be doing the same.
Scooter tapped on the door and took my mind off of Devin. A huge bouquet of roses hid his face. He handed them to me and smiled. I smirked. With the bouquet pointed south, I walked back to the sofa and plopped down.
“I’m so sorry. She . . .”
“Save it.”
He stood in front of me. His eyes followed my eyes, hoping to gain access. I denied him by putting my head between my legs. He kneeled down in front of me and tried to lift my chin. I fought him.
He wrapped his arms around my folded body. “Taylor. I know you’re mad. I’m leaving in two weeks.”
I held back my tears. “I can’t do this.”
“Do what? We’re at the finish line now. This isn’t the time to give up.”
“If we’re at the finish line, why do you feel like you have to please her? Why do I still feel like the other woman?”
He gasped. “Do you know how hard it is to look in the eyes of someone who loves you, someone who has done nothing to hurt you and say I want to leave you because I fell in love with someone else?”
I shook my head. He sat up on the couch and rubbed my back. “Taylor, I had no idea that I would feel this way about you so soon. I mean, I was planning my life with her and you . . .”
I lifted my head. “So it’s all my fault?”
“It’s no one’s fault. We can’t help what we feel, but it doesn’t make me feel good that I’m hurting her. I took her out today, because I felt sorry for her. That’s all.”
Why did I sympathize with him? I guess mostly it was my own guilt. I let another incident slide on my road to victory.
40
SCOOTER
Why did Akua wait until three weeks before my moving date to become vulnerable? My feelings were in too deep with Taylor. I pictured her in my life. I imagined spending Christmas and Thanksgivings with her family, not Akua’s. Her tears began to wash away my confidence. We’ve been sleeping in the same bed again. She now tiptoes out in the morning to avoid waking me.
She asks every day, “Have you made a decision, yet?”
I wonder how long the stranger I’ve been sleeping with will be around. What if I miss my chance to be with my ideal mate? If I screw this up, will Taylor ever speak to me again? If I hadn’t led her on for so long, things would be different. There was less than seven seconds left in the game. I looked left. I looked right. I weighed my choice. Do I shoot the jumper and get three points? Do I go for the guaranteed lay up, lying beside me? Two points, but it still puts me up a point. Three points will guarantee a win. As I compared my drama to basketball, Akua stared at me.
Her vulnerability was so beautiful. I found myself kissing her for no reason. When I sat up on the side of the bed, I sighed. “I have to pack.”
She pulled up on me and rested her chin on my shoulders. “You’re really leaving me?”
I shrugged my shoulders. Her wet cheek touched my back. “Why won’t you give me a chance to change?”
I dropped my head. “Ku, I don’t know what I’m doing.”
“Why do you love her so much?”
I shrugged my shoulders.
“Why can’t we figure this out?”
“I’m going to move out, so I can be clear about what I want.” I turned to face her. “I think that’s best. That way, I’m not leading anyone on.”
“I’m afraid of losing you. I’ve always thought if I worked hard for something I wouldn’t lose it.”
I stood up. “You’re not losing me.”
She crawled to the edge of the bed. “Why do you have to leave?”
“Just let me clear my head.”
I went into the other room and began to gather my things. The house phone rang. Akua answered, “Hey, honey. Yeah, we miss you, too. When are you coming to see us?”
I stood at the door frowning. She mouthed. “It’s my other boyfriend.”
I didn’t correct her and tell her I was not her boyfriend anymore. I nodded and knew she was talking about my best friend. Maybe he received the subliminal S.O.S. that I sent out. Ripping and running up and down the road has prevented me from sharing my drama with anyone. I’ve been primarily figuring this out in my own head. I was too afraid that someone else would push me in the wrong direction.
After a few moments of conversing, she told me to get the phone. I stepped into the room and mouthed. “You didn’t tell him anything, did you?”
She glared like it was a stupid question. I picked up, “What’s up, Dawg.”
“Yo, I haven’t seen you or Ku in a minute. Y’all usually come through to see a brotha.”
“Man, things have been hectic around here. I’m working like crazy. She’s working like crazy.”
“I’m just as guilty as you man. Working is my middle name.”
I stepped outside of the apartment. “Yeah, I got some other drama going on around here, too.”
“Like what?”
“I’ll give you the short version.”
“Go ahead.”
“You know Akua’s crazy, right?”
He laughed. “That’s my girl. She keeps your ass straight. That’s all.”
“What would you do if you could have your ideal mate?”
He sighed. “Man, are you talking about me or talking about you?”
Between clenched teeth, I said. “Nigga, I’m talking about if you were in my shoes?”
“How do you know it’s ideal? Are you checking it from afar? Or are you dealing with the person?”
“Dealing with the person.”
“Leave that shit alone. A chick that will mess with you while you got a girl, will end up leaving your ass for somebody else. That’s the way that shit works.”
I frowned. “Man, that’s crazy.”
“You asked me. I told you. Shit. You got a good woman. If you leave Akua, let me know.”
I laughed. He said, “I’m not playing with you. That’s a diamond right there.”
“Her smart ass?”
He laughed. “Yeah, I rather have a smart ass any day than a chick that’s letting any dude pop game on her and falling for it.” He paused. “I don’t do those weak chicks, and a chick that’s down for you while you have a girl is usually somebody you can tell anything.”
I leaned on my front door. He’d mi
ssed too much of the story and it was too hard to explain that Taylor was a strong woman with a weakness for me. He’d see what I meant once we were together. I chuckled. “Man, you got some crazy hang-ups.”
“Call it whatever you want to call it, but don’t be stupid.”
“We gotta hook up.”
“Yeah, I was thinking about coming through next week.”
How could I explain all the packed boxes? “I’m coming to Maryland next week.”
“Well shit, I’ll catch you down this way.”
I hung up the phone and walked in the house. Akua sat on the couch. “Did you tell him?”
“Not everything.”
“If you can’t tell your friends, maybe you’re not sure about your decision.”
41
TAYLOR
The days leading up to the move left me empty. The night before he was scheduled to move, Scooter didn’t call. I figured he was packing. I sat in my house alone with my fingers crossed the entire moving day. Finally, my phone rang.
As we sped down the highway of love going 100 mph, the sound of brakes screeching pierced my ear. The phone call I wanted, but feared. I let it ring. I waited for the message that he didn’t leave. Ten minutes later, he called again. I answered. He sighed, “Tay-Bae.”
My heart floated in my stomach. My intuition warned me of bad news. I took a deep breath and swallowed the last of the martini I was sipping.
He continued, “We need to talk.”
My eyes watered. The expected/unexpected was about to occur. My voice trembled, “I’m listening.”
He cleared his throat. “I still love her. And I’ve decided to stay.”
The last five months flashed through my mind. Then, everything went blank. As if he’d kicked me out on the highway into oncoming traffic with no warning signs, I wrapped my arms around my body to shield me from the collision. Tears poured from my eyes. The shock locked my jaws shut. My shielded heart cracked into tiny pieces, as he continued to roll the bulldozer over it back and forth.
“We were happy until I started seeing you again,” he reminded me.