by N'Tyse
“I just don’t want you to jump to any conclusions,” I had explained. “I love my girl, and I’m not leaving her.”
She had promised me that our little fling would remain where we had left it, back at the condo and in the guest room. We had chatted a few more times that day, exchanging small talk but nothing serious. Then, out of the blue, she had blurted out that she wasn’t new to this. Before I could say anything, she had gone on to share with me things I wished she had never brought up, as she had tried to convince me she was no virgin to the lifestyle. I had tried to play innocent. I had had nothing to say. I had just listened and played the role of a friend.
“Sand, I’ve been involved with women for over a year now, so don’t think you turned me out.”
I stopped whatever the hell I was doing and immediately shot back, “Baby girl, I am the last one to try to turn you out. That’s not my job. I’ll leave that to the others. The ones that would be more than happy to make you their little play toy, or shall I say, experiment.”
“What the hell you mean by that?”
“Look, Jasmine, it wasn’t a secret that I’m gay. I mean, look at me. So I already figured you were cuttin’ strong when you slipped me your number, remember?” She was silent, but I kept talking, luring her into my world for a second. “So if you have the slightest idea running through your head that I was intending on turning you out, you can erase it. I am already involved with someone. Turning you out is not gon’ benefit me any.”
She was still quiet. She must have had her head on twisted if she thought I was out to flip her around. Even though I could sense that she was inexperienced and had never been with a woman before that night at James’s crib, the day we fucked, I left it at that. Her trying to turn the shit around, opposed to coming straight out and being honest, had sparked a red flag with me. I mean, who was she trying to impress? She wasn’t dealing with a rookie, and I damn sure wasn’t no amateur. If an animal could distinguish their kind, what made her think I couldn’t? Family knew family. Some females were more curious than a muthafucka but just never had the guts or the boldness to say it. They would beat around the bush and say shit like “I ain’t never did it, but I know it ain’t for me,” or “I tried it, but we were just playing around.” When you heard that but, then you knew you were dealing with a confused or rather clueless chick.
My years in high school had taught me how to distinguish the G crowds and the B crowds, and then you had the BC crowds. That was the gay, the bisexual, and the bi-curious. As they said, birds of a feather flocked together. And one thing was for sure: women talked. So if they had a best friend or a homegirl who was down with family, nine times out of ten, they tried it and denied it, or they claimed it and then shamed it. In other words, they became down-low freaks who got busy when they felt like it, under their own terms and rules. The ones who weren’t bold enough to just come out and say they did women or were curious to know how it felt to be with one were the down-low sistas who like to be fucked and teased by a man but licked and pleased by a woman.
It was more of a mental thing with those kinds. Being free to tap into both worlds anytime they damn well pleased. Those kinds wanted to have their cake and eat it too. I couldn’t explain it. I just knew they existed, and if you a man, you had better not leave your girl around. You grabbed her arms and gripped your balls, pulling her close to you, when you saw a nigga like me checking her out. But Sand wasn’t the one you needed to be worried about. It was the girl’s best friend, Regina, the one whose house she slept at when hubby was out of town.
My brain was throbbing, but I managed to keep talking. “So, do you know Peaches?” I asked, switching the subject a tad bit.
“Yeah, I know her. She works for Chyna.”
“Chyna?” I was shocked.
“Yeah, she one of Chyna’s girls. She’s been down with her for a minute.”
I shook my head, because I had had no idea. I was sure as hell that I was busted out now. I just knew that it was only a matter of time before that shit would get back to Rene.
Returning to the present moment, I decided against calling Jasmine back, figuring that if it was something important, she would call me back. She never did, and that was a good thing.
I got to work. Time flew by while I was working. I had placed ads a few weeks ago in several of the local nightlife publications and chat-room boards online. I had even had radio play. The response had been overwhelming. Men and women from all over the metroplex were trying to get down. Models of all sizes and ethnic backgrounds had sent in snapshots. Rappers and other singers had sent in demo tapes, and comedians and crowd pleasers had sent in videos. On this day I was able to get through only a few at a time, putting my okay picks in a pile for Rene to check out later.
It was one o’ clock, and she was probably on her way home from church. I wanted to surprise her when she arrived by ordering some takeout from Sweet Georgia Brown, but the idea vanished when I heard loud footsteps and kids running up the stairs. I knew then that we had guests, and if it was who I thought it was, then off to the bedroom I was about to go.
Rene walked in, looking stunning, as always. She was rocking a lavender dress with silver trim around the edges. It stopped right above her knees. Her long hair was pulled back into a tight bun, and her makeup was flawless, matching her outfit. She had on clear sandals, and her toes sported a fresh pedicure with French tips. I wanted to run over and sop her up like some hot water corn bread with collard greens and sweet tea, but I had to maintain my composure. She walked over and gave me a hug, trying not to put on a show in front of Shun’s kids, who had come into the house right behind her. I spoke to all four of them, and just when I was about to shut the front door, in walked the devil herself, Miss Shun—all 290 pounds of her in a bright Kool-Aid red outfit. She ignored me, walked past me, and sat her happy ass down on the sofa.
“Hello, Miss Shun,” I said. She had her nerve to walk up in my house, right past me, and not speak. I paid the damn bills.
“Hi, Cassandra.” She hated to have to be face-to-face with me, but frankly, I didn’t give a damn. She was in my spot.
I walked over to Rene. “Baby, I’m gon’ be in the room.” She could tell I was displeased with her friend’s rudeness, but I was not about to let Shun’s silly circus ass ruin my Sunday afternoon. Without another word, I walked into my room and left them to tend to their own business.
Rene
My life had always been difficult. It had been so when I was younger, growing up in the foster care system, and it was now. My girlfriend, Sand, who liked for me to refer to her as my man or my boyfriend, was old news. I mean, I still loved her, but I was tired of living a sheltered life. Life was just cruel to people like us, and I was just tired. I couldn’t keep living this way. Hoping and praying that when I walk out my door, I wouldn’t be a victim of some horrible hate crime or be laughed at and teased because of the life I represented.
I was walking out of the grocery store, nervously watching the two young black guys following behind. Seeing that I had only one bag, I knew they weren’t offering to help me. They began shouting for me to come back so they could check out my ass. I got in my car, still ignoring their asses, letting their tired game fall on deaf ears.
“Come on, li’l mama. If you got a man, all you gotta do is say so. I ain’t mad at ya. But then again, fuck that nigga! He ain’t no friend of mines. That means we can still bump and grind,” one of them yelled.
This wannabe-ass Romeo. Who the hell did he think he was? I looked back at him and his boy, smiled at the one trying to play mack daddy. They were both jacked the fuck up. One had his pants hanging halfway off his ass, and the other . . . well, there was just no hope at all for him. He was the main one skinnin’ and grinnin’ with them gapped teeth and oversize lips. The only thing that I could say was cute about him was the fact that he was so ugly but still made an effort to impress a woman by wearing some strong-ass cologne that put a stinging on your nose when you passed
by. Probably a homemade blend of Mama and Daddy’s last Christmas perfume and cologne sets.
Little Romeo had on some blue jean pants with a long white T-shirt that damn near hung down to his knees, and from the looks of it, he had another one on underneath it, even though it was every bit a hundred degrees outside. And what was that in his mouth? Oh, Lord, I thought clip-ons were out of style. Were they still sporting the clip-on teeth? I wondered. I had to suppress my laugh. I started my car and turned the air conditioner on full blast. I was in a hurry and had no time to converse with the little wannabes. I was on a mission. I had to do what I had to do and still try to beat Sand home before she started trippin’ out.
“Come on, Mama, with your fine ass. Give a nigga with pay the time of day so I can play.” Little Romeo pulled out a wad of bills that were rolled up tightly beneath a brown rubber band. For a moment I wanted to go over there and show him what a real stack of bills looked like, but I realized that under that twenty, he, like other young boys I had come in contact with, probably had a bundle of one-dollar bills.
Talk about highsiding and straight fronting. The numbers inside my checkbook register that reflected my last deposit and my account balance would make his little chunky ass feel broker than a two-dollar ho. But because I knew how to be sweet, I didn’t want to embarrass the little off-brand shoes–wearing wanksta. I put my car in drive.
“Fuck you, then, you conceited-ass ho. Shit, you must be crazy to turn down a nigga like me. I’m a muthafuckin’ playa! Ya heard me! Shit, I can pimp mo’ hoes that’s way finer than you. Prissy-ass biatch!” He turned to his boy. “Come on, my nigga. Let’s leave that stuck-up ho alone.”
“Man, I bet that bitch gay. Ole dykin’ ass!” his boy said. They laughed.
I stepped on my brakes so fast that my purse in the backseat flew up to the front. I rolled down my window enough to stick my left hand out and waved the middle finger proudly.
And that was why a decent woman would never give them the time of day, I assured myself. That was the problem with some of these young men. They didn’t know how to talk to a lady, and when they did, it eventually became an invitation to a fuck party or a one-night stand. I would respect a man more if he just came out with it and said what he wanted. It was hard to find a man who had a job, his own ride, and, most importantly, his own spot. Those three qualifications that some of us women looked for were hard to come by in a man. Even though I wasn’t out searching for dick, I still had my preferences. I knew some women who settled for the first Dick or Harry who paid them any attention at all. He could have no job and still be living at home with his mama. As long as he had a big swagger and the woman’s kids could call him Daddy, shit, he was in the door.
I bumped my Destiny’s Child CD and hummed to the beat of “Soldier,” trying to calm my nerves.
I need a soldier.... Where they at, where they at....
My cell phone was ringing, and I knew who it was by the ringtone. Sand was probably back at home by now and wondering where the hell I could be at this time of night by myself. I had left the house right behind her, giving her at least a twenty-minute head start. She kept blowing up my cell phone. Every time I looked down, there was an incoming call from home, but I had some serious business I needed to handle that excluded her.
I finally made it back to the house. I pulled up into the driveway, announcing my arrival with the garage-door opener. I opened my glove compartment, slipped my cold ice onto my left ring finger, and got out of my car, carrying the Wal-Mart bag and my key to the beautiful three-bedroom, twenty-five-hundred-square-foot house. I walked inside, entering through the kitchen.
“Vincent, Vincent,” I yelled. “I’m back, baby.”
He came from the computer room, shut the door behind him, and headed toward me. He reached for the bag, then pulled out the box that was inside. I watched him as he tore it open, as if the answer would already be there. When he realized how much I was shaking, he grabbed my trembling hands, and that gave me immediate reassurance. I felt a tear slide down my left cheek, and he wiped it gently away with his right thumb. We walked slowly toward the hallway bathroom. He stopped me before I could go in.
“Rene, no matter what this test says, I still want to marry you. I just wanted you to know that.” He paused. “No matter what, I’m here.”
I noticed a couple of tears also beginning to form in his big blue eyes. We both stood there, hoping to find comfort in each other. There was a brief silence. My emotions were so scattered that I didn’t know what to do. Did I want a positive result, or did I want a negative one? The two outcomes bounced back and forth in my head as I mentally prepared myself for either.
I let go of Vincent’s hands and walked into the bathroom, then shut the door behind me. I began reading the small text on the box, line by line. I followed the instructions, careful not to make a mistake. To ensure that I got an accurate result, I urinated in the Styrofoam cup and dipped the end of the stick in it.
In sixty seconds my life could change drastically. I turned my back and slowly counted from one to ten. Oh God. Oh God. When I turned back around to face the counter, where I had laid down my test, I was caught off guard by the pink plus sign. I quickly grabbed the test stick to take a closer look at the results. My eyes almost jumped out of their sockets when the pink plus sign grew darker and darker as the seconds passed. I snatched the leaflet from the box the test had come in, then went over every step in detail. The test stick had definitely given me a positive result. The hands that were shaking uncontrollably before were now covering my mouth in astonishment and rubbing my belly. I smiled. There was an instant love that I had for this child growing inside of me.
“Rene, is everything all right in there?”
I unlocked the door, and Vincent walked in cautiously, looking nervous and scared all at once. I couldn’t talk. Not only was I at a loss for words, but my heart was also beating extra fast. Vincent came to witness the same thing I had.
“Does… does this mean we’re pregnant?” Tears began streaming down my face like they had earlier.
Vincent had the biggest smile spread across his face than I had ever seen in our thirteen months of dating. He was happier now than he had been when I accepted his proposal of marriage. I remembered that day like it was yesterday.
* * *
On that day Vincent had taken me to Ramiliano’s, a fancy, expensive Italian restaurant on the rich folks’ side of town. He had told me to get all dressed up because he was taking me to meet some important friends of his who were hosting a party.
I had had to lie to Sand real good and tell her that I had been invited to one of Shun’s brothers’ social gatherings. I knew that when she heard Shun’s name, it made her sick to her stomach, so I wasn’t worried about her asking to join me.
I wore a beautiful black evening gown, a silver choker, and earrings that dangled almost to my shoulders, and I carried a three-hundred-dollar handbag, which I clutched tightly to my side. My thick jet-black hair flowed down my back and across my shoulder blades. My makeup was done to perfection with a hint of MAC Lipglass shining over my chocolate-kiss lipstick. I had to admit, I was dazzling from head to toe.
Vincent had not given me any details about how the evening was scheduled to go. He had said only that I should act natural and just be myself. Once we reached the exotic restaurant, I was overwhelmed. The scenery was beautiful. I swore I had never seen anything like it before. It was very upscale. Sand could never afford to take me to a place like this, and even if she could, she wouldn’t have the time.
I admired everything about the place before I even stepped foot through the doors. Beautiful golden lights were shining on the patrons who were outside, dining in the breezy night air, as waiters and waitresses escorted others to their seats, then placed their cloth napkins in their laps for them. A live band entertained the crowd. As soon as we walked in, we were seated at a table that seemed to have been sectioned off from the rest of the crowd intentionally. I figur
ed that they were out of seats, so they had had no choice but to sit us there, considering that the place was so crowded with people who were dining and having drinks.
I was glad to have selected my black dress, given the attire that everyone else wore. All the ladies in the place looked to be in their midthirties or older. If I were to guess, Vincent and I were probably the youngest couple in the building. Vincent was twenty-seven, and I had a couple more months before I made twenty-one.
I smiled, admiring Vincent as I reflected on when we had met.
“Rene, I got somebody that wanna meet you at this bank where I opened my child support account at,” Shun said.
“Who wants to meet me at a bank?”
“You’ll see. He’s expecting to meet you today. Just get ready. I’m on my way.”
Later we pulled up into the bank’s parking lot. Once inside, Shun walked me over to his desk.
“Vincent, this is my best friend, Rene, who I’ve been telling you about.”
He stood up from his seat and reached out for my hand. He shook it and then came around to pull out a chair for me. “How are you doing, ma’am? I’m Vincent Montgomery. Your friend has told me so much about you, I feel like I know you already.”
I smiled, knowing he probably did feel like he knew me if Shun was doing the talking.
“Now can I get my free gift?” I heard Shun ask him. She walked over to the bank’s display of blenders and grabbed the one right on the top.
“That damn girl,” I whispered.
“He’s too old, Shun,” I told her later.
“Girl, no he not. He’s just the right age. Maybe he can teach you a thing or two, if you know what I mean. Well, then again, you know what they say about those white men. Let me know if it’s true.”
“Shun, I am not about to sleep with that man. Damn. We just met. Not only that, I’m with someone. You know Sand would kill me if she even thought I was feeling out another guy. A white boy at that.”