by Zane
Maybe a more weak-minded man was cool with good sex, but Kevin was looking for the not-so-obvious. For him, there were other factors at play. He wanted a woman who could look into his eyes and make him feel like there was no other man in the world for her but him. A woman whose smile filled him with more passion than a fuck ever could. He wanted a woman who, by just touching him, could send his heart reeling into outer space. He hadn’t seen any of those things in the lovely Kiara. Maybe he could’ve if he’d looked hard enough. But he hadn’t been able to see much from behind all that ass she slung at him on the dance floor and all that cleavage she’d doused him with at the bar. Not that he should put all the blame on her. Shit, all he ever had to do was “just say no.” But what the hell? He hadn’t had any good pussy in ages and Miss Kiara was all too willing to oblige a brotha. Kevin shook his head, then bent and kissed a shapely calf. Kiara moaned, and he quietly slipped out of her apartment before she woke up.
He’d just turned thirty-six years old. Before that, he didn’t even know men had biological clocks. Kevin always thought that was a woman thing. But he was beginning to relish the idea of having one woman in his life, maybe even some kids. And the idea of having them while he was still young enough to enjoy them was even more appealing. All his married friends said they envied him. “Man…you don’t know how good you got it. You got all the freedom, all the women…” But these were the same brothas who could only stay at the club long enough to admire a shapely view and have a drink or two before heading home. The same brothas packing up the kids for family vacations, celebrating anniversaries, “Baby this-ing and Baby that-ing” their wives. These were the same brothas who knew who they were going to go to bed with every night and as much as they might’ve said they envied him, not one of them seemed to be in any hurry to let go of what they had in exchange for his lifestyle.
It wasn’t like Kevin hadn’t enjoyed being single. He knew for a fact that he’d lived his single life to the utmost. It had been an outta sight ride and he’d be the last person to claim otherwise. He’d spent his time with some fine, intelligent, creative, funny sistahs, many of whom would’ve loved to settle him down. Only at the time, he’d been too greedy for his own good, feeling that there was more than enough of him to go around. Any woman worth anything wasn’t having it and, consequently, he’d missed out on some wonderful possibilities. Well, now he’d made up his mind to not miss out on any more, and Kevin set his sights on getting married.
Chapter Five
“Ty! C’mon, Baby. Auntie’s here,” Mo called upstairs.
Naomi walked in wearing plenty of attitude and plopped her little behind down on the couch, then folded her arms across her chest.
“What’s wrong with you, Miss Lady?”
Naomi’s bottom lip was poked out so far, Mo was afraid somebody in the neighborhood might trip over it. “How come you and Troy didn’t invite me to lunch?”
It was no secret that Naomi was the fiercely insecure, jealous child in the family. Being the youngest, she felt obligated to make sure her presence was felt and acknowledged by Mo and Troy. Probably because when they were kids, Naomi was always being left behind for being too small and too slow to keep up, locked in closets, left in trees that were too high for her to climb out of, and teased mercilessly by her older brother and sister. Thirty years old and she still hadn’t truly forgiven them.
Mo sat down next to her and patted her arm. “Naomi…you work all the way in the Tech Center. Now would you really have driven all the way over to the Points just for some sweet potato fries?”
“That’s not the point, Mo. Y’all could’ve at least invited me.”
“I’m sorry, Baby. And you’re right. We should’ve, and next time, we will,” she said in her most condescending tone.
Naomi smiled and kissed Mo’s cheek. Yeah, she still knew how to push ol’ girl’s buttons. Naomi had decided to let Ty spend the weekend with her because lately, she’d been hit by some of those irritating maternal instincts. Usually, a few days with her nephew was just the kind of medicine she needed to cure that ailment. Not to mention, she knew Mo needed a break sometimes, and she hoped that maybe this weekend, the woman would cut loose and go out and get herself a life…something outside of work and the boy. “He tell you about Gregory?” Naomi grinned.
Mo rolled her eyes. “Yes. He told me about Gregory.”
“He tell you how he met him?”
“You know he did. Which is absolutely ridiculous, if you ask me.”
“Not all that ridiculous. I think it’s kind of romantic.”
“You won’t think it’s all that romantic if this Gregory turns out to be a serial killer.”
“He’s not a serial killer, Mo. He’s actually very nice.”
“You’ve met him?”
“I went with them on their first date. Troy insisted.”
“And you didn’t tell me?”
Naomi smiled. “I assumed Troy would tell you. He tells you everything else. Or…at least he used to.” Naomi loved it when she was in the loop and Mo wasn’t. “Besides, wasn’t much to tell. I didn’t stay long. Just long enough to have a drink, meet the man…you know. Check him out. And he’s nice. Very handsome.”
“Yeah, well…Troy needs to be careful anyway. You know how wrapped up he can get in somebody. Remember Walter? Took that boy ages to get over Walter’s lying, skinny ass.”
Naomi stared at Mo in dismay. “If that isn’t the pot calling the kettle black.”
“Don’t start, Nay. Ty…hurry up, Boy! You’re Auntie’s gonna leave without you.” Mo glared at Naomi.
“I’m just saying…”
Ty came stumbling down the stairs carrying a backpack bigger than he was. “Hi, Auntie Nay Nay. I’m ready,” he said, grinning, out of breath, and standing at the door. Obviously, chit chat time was over.
“You sure you got everything this time, Ty? ’Cause we’re not coming back.” Naomi half-heartedly scolded the boy, knowing good and well, if he asked her to, she’d be back.
“I’m sure.” He smiled.
“So,” Naomi asked turning to Mo, “what kind of plans do you have for the weekend? As if I don’t know.”
“Give me a break. Please? Please? I’m begging you, Naomi.” Mo fell to her knees, tugging on Naomi’s jacket. “Please. Just give me one little break? Please?”
Naturally, Ty found the whole scene so funny, he nearly fell over under the weight of his backpack. “You look silly, Mom.”
Naomi rolled her eyes. “She is silly, Ty. Let’s go before we end up silly like her.” She rushed him out the door and raced him to her car.
Mo waved after them. “Be good, Ty!”
“I will. Love you, Mommy.”
Mo slowly got up off her knees to the very disturbing sounds of bones popping. Just before she closed the door, Naomi shouted, “Remember, Mo! This weekend? Get a life!” Then she hurried into the car and sped off.
If Ty hadn’t been within earshot, Mo would’ve definitely shouted back a solid, “fuck you!”
She closed the door behind her and stood there for a moment. Yeah, she needed a break from the little man, but she was sure gonna miss him. Even if it was only for two days. Then it hit her. There it was again, weighing down on her head like a ton of bricks. That damn quiet.
She had to get this budget done this weekend. The board was meeting on Tuesday and Mo had planned on working on it while Ty was gone. Little man didn’t understand the importance of things like budgets and the board of directors. He felt that asking Mo permission to hook up the video game was far more pressing an issue. His being gone was going to get rid of all the little excuses she had for why she couldn’t get it done. Mo sat at the dining room table, adding up receipts, bills, salaries, setting expectations, goals…hell! Why couldn’t she be spending her Friday night doing something else? She threw down her pencil, and rubbed her head. “I need a break. A real break.”
Mo got up from the table and looked around her empty, quiet h
ouse. First, she stared at the television, thinking that maybe she’d find a good movie on or something. No…Mo hated television. Music. When’s the last time she had turned on the stereo? Music would be nice. Mo looked through her very short stack of CDs, trying to find something that wouldn’t depress her or remind her of things she didn’t want to be reminded of. Then she remembered a birthday present Naomi and Troy had given her last year. Where was it?
“Ah! Here it is.” Mo blew the dust off, cracked open the cellophane, and popped the brand-new old CD into her stereo. The Best of Earth, Wind & Fire. Mo loved her some Earth, Wind & Fire. She could listen to Maurice and Phillip sing about Septembers and Devotions for the rest of her life and never get tired of it. She’d grown up in the seventies, before the term “house party” became synonymous with the title of a movie. It cost twenty-five cents to get in, and parents usually pulled up in the driveway before midnight to pick up their kids and take them home. She remembered disco balls twinkling from basement ceilings, onion dip and chips, and fruit punch that, by the end of the night, had been spiked with more punch than fruit. Mo remembered how all the boys would line up against one wall together, and how all the girls would gather against the other one. Everybody would secretly pray for a slow jam to be played, and be scared to death when one did come on. And if you were lucky enough to have a boy ask you to slow dance, and if he got a hard-on and you felt it, you knew he liked you. Of course, boys knew the real deal. Getting a hard-on at fourteen didn’t take any real effort at all. Most of them could get a hard on if the cat rubbed up against them.
Before she knew what was happening, the music had taken her hips captive and Mo found herself dancing around her living room, shaking this and shimmying that. She laughed at herself and how ridiculously exuberant she felt. Oh, she hadn’t felt this good in so long. She pulled out the insert from the CD and caught herself singing along, grabbing a hairbrush and pretending it was her singing. “…that’s the way…of the world…” Sadness tried creeping in, reminding her of Jonathan, but Mo wasn’t having it. Not tonight. She wasn’t going to let him rob her of what she was feeling right now. This second. Mo was happy. She felt good and thoughts of Jonathan couldn’t have that.
She’d almost forgotten the other part of her present that she never opened. Naomi had given her the CD, but Troy had given her the joints. She looked in her stereo case behind the CDs and…yep. There they were. Two perfectly rolled joints all wrapped up nice and neat in a plastic bag. Mo giggled and hurried into the kitchen to find a cigarette lighter. She’d never really cared much for smoking weed. But Troy felt it might do her some good, loosen her up some. Boy did it ever. Mo held the smoke deep in her lungs for as long as she could, then let it escape slowly from her mouth. She twirled around the room, laughing and shaking her body to the point that she literally collapsed on the sofa. Mo laughed harder than she’d laughed in years. She laughed so hard she thought she’d pee on herself, so she ran to the bathroom, plopped down on the toilet, then remembered…she’d forgotten to pull down her pants. “Shit!” she said. Then laughed some more, pulled off her clothes, and jumped in the shower.
She didn’t even dry off after she got out. Mo walked around the house completely naked and she hadn’t done that since…She lit the last joint, went upstairs to her bedroom, then rummaged through her drawers trying to find that one T-shirt. Her favorite one. Where was it? Where is…Mo caught a glimpse of herself, naked in the mirror. She stopped and stared back at this woman who she hadn’t seen in so long. Tears welled up in her eyes, because this woman was beautiful. Her skin was the color of caramel, her dark brown hair hung loosely, barely touching the tops of her shoulders. She’d never been as tall as she would’ve liked, but five-three looked perfect on her. Mo pressed the palm of her hand against her stomach. No, it wasn’t ironing board flat and she could still see the stretch marks left behind from carrying Ty, but the slight bulge wasn’t nearly as ugly as she’d once thought. Mo turned to the side. She smiled. Yes. She had a nice ass. Still. She’d always thought her breasts were too big, but men loved them. They were firm and shaped like teardrops.
“I missed you,” Mo slurred. “Where’ve you been, Maureen?”
She stared at herself, seeing that yes, she was still a desirable woman. Jonathan used to tell her how lovely she was all the time. And he’d been right. She was lovely. Too damn lovely to be at home alone on a Friday night. A woman like her should be out someplace doing something special with someone incredible.
“There’s no excuse for this.” Mo wiped her face, then dumped the contents of her purse on the bed, looking for the website address Troy had given her. Hell! Maybe it was ridiculous, but at least it was something. At least it was a way to get out of this rut. It was a way to come back to the world again. Mo found the website address, then sat down in front of her computer and pulled it up. The man of your dreams is waiting for you flashed at the top of the homepage. What man? What dreams? Since Jonathan’s death she hadn’t dreamed of any other man, and lately, she hadn’t even been dreaming of him.
A long list of options beckoned her to design the man of her dreams. “Pick your flavor, Girl.” She grinned. “Like ’em tall? Choose tall. Like ’em in Colorado? Shoot! Click on Denver. Like ’em young? Click…jailbait! No. No jailbait. I’ve already got a son. How about thirty-five to forty? That’s good.”
Over two-hundred ads popped up, meeting her criteria. Maureen slowly browsed through them, thinking about a time when she could’ve given some of these brothas hell. Back in the day, she used to drive the fellas wild, strutting around in high-heeled shoes, short skirts, swinging hips that swayed to the sound of African drums. She grinned. “Baby, you so damn fine,” Jonathan used to say. Yes, she was. Dang! Why was she sitting here acting like she was about to be late for her own funeral? She was only thirty-seven, which isn’t even close to being old. “Humph. I still got it going on.” She smiled.
Would it really be so crazy to answer one of those ads? Other people did it all the time, so it couldn’t be all bad. Of course, some of the ads were questionable. Written by confused men in confused times.
Afternoon Delight…
Classy, clean cut, disease free, passionate man, seeks uninhibited female for discreet encounters.
I got the beef!
Well-hung brotha looking for a woman to share moonlit walks, candlelit dinners, and meaningful conversations.
Let’s do this thang
Culturally aware and active black man, seeking the right woman to share his life-journey with. Race unimportant.
It was all she could do not to fall out of her chair laughing. Some men even had the nerve to post mug shots…um, photos of themselves with their ads. She came across a few who looked promising, even handsome, but some of them looked like they’d scanned in their driver’s license pictures, which in Mo’s opinion was no way to impress a woman. Finally, she came across one ad that did get her attention. “Oh my goodness!” Mo had to blink a couple of times to make sure she was seeing what she was seeing. Staring back at her with that pretty smile all loaded up and ready to take aim was Mr. Davies. Kevin Davies. The same Kevin Davies who’d been sitting in her office the other day. The very same one who’d be at the center every Tuesday at six o’clock. As gorgeous as that man was, what in the world did he need to put an ad on the Internet for?
Black Man…Searching
“I’ve been out here long enough to have sown any wild oats left in my system and now I’m ready to settle down. Or perhaps, I’m ready to settle up. Being single has its benefits and I’ve taken advantage of them all, but I don’t believe man was intended to spend his life alone. I’ve tried the clubs, church, the gym, grocery store and I haven’t been able to find her. Let me describe her to you: I’m intelligent, but she’s brilliant. I’m artistic, but she’s my inspiration. I’m ambitious, but she’s goal-oriented. I’m a free spirit, but she’s…longing to be free. Am I asking for too much? Maybe. But I’m only asking for as much as I’m wi
lling to give. Soul mate…are you feeling me?”
Unlike the others, this one was real. Really real, like reach out and touch a woman kind of real. Like reach out and kiss those full, soft lips kind of real. Like feeling the sensation of his tongue between—well, just about anywhere was fine with her kind of real. Damn! She missed sex. Real sex. With a real man.
Mo laughed. “Whoa! He is so fine.”
Mo stared at his picture so long she started hallucinating. The on screen Kevin winked at her, then seemed to pucker up and blow a kiss in her direction.
So, what if she took a chance and answered his ad? Mo smiled. He’d never know it was her. Would he? How would he possibly know?
“That’s not cool, Maureen,” she said to herself.
Why wouldn’t she want him to know? Because he had no business placing personal ads. That’s why. Who was he trying to fool? Men like Kevin Davies should be banned from placing personal ads. It’s not proper. Not to mention, responding to personal ads was not her style. What style? Since when had she had any damn style to speak of? Not in years. And what a waste of time. After all, the man was a volunteer at her center. If she wanted to talk to him, all she ever had to do was be there on a Tuesday evening at six and she could say whatever she wanted to him. Now that made more sense than sending an anonymous email to him. Of course it did. Mo grinned. It might make more sense, but it definitely wouldn’t be as much fun. Mo became excited over the notion of being impetuous. She’d forgotten what it felt like to be spontaneous. It wasn’t like giving out her phone number where she’d end dodging calls if she didn’t like him or changed her mind about getting to know him. What did Troy say? “…just hit the delete key.” She laughed again, then hit the “Respond to this ad” button beneath Kevin’s picture. An email screen popped up.