Candy sat there with the phone in her hand, looking down at it. She watched as her display flashed the duration of the call. She closed her eyes and rubbed her temples before standing up and turning her music back on. She walked into the kitchen and opened the refrigerator, looking over the choices: milk, eggs, lettuce, bread, apple juice, leftover baked fish, cake…cake. She reached into the refrigerator and grabbed the piece of leftover double-chocolate cake. One of her coworkers had had a birthday the day before. Candy had eaten one slice and taken another home. She reached into her black granite island drawer, pulled out a fork, and shoveled a large piece into her mouth. She closed her eyes as she chewed it, savoring the taste. She reached back into the refrigerator and grabbed the gallon of cold milk. She went to the other side of the massive kitchen and pulled out a large drinking glass. She poured the milk to the rim and drank it nearly as fast as she poured it, polishing the cake off in record time. She then retrieved the takeout menus and called the Chinese restaurant that was a few blocks away.
“Hi, yes, I’d like the beef and broccoli, two shrimp eggrolls, a large hot-and-sour soup, an order of your chicken dumplings, and some Crab Rangoon. Yes, that will be all. Yes, 783 Dixie Drive. Thank you.” Candy hung up the phone and picked up her dust cloth again, going over the same baseboard, her thoughts drifting in and out until she was brought out of her trance by the sound of the delivery boy ringing her doorbell.
* * *
“OK, you know what you have to do right?” Dallas said as she ate the cherry from her drink. She lie back lazily on Candy’s living room couch while their mutual friend Jasmine flipped through an old Essence magazine that she picked up from the oval coffee table.
“What?” Candy asked cautiously as she took a bite of her grilled chicken and guacamole quesadilla hors d'oeuvres she had prepared along with shrimp and pineapple kabobs.
“You need to go ahead and let him come over. Let him give you some of that body, then kick his ass out!” Dallas laughed as she slapped her knee. “Let him feel what it feels like to be treated like shit for a change. Use that man for some sex, Girl!”
Jasmine rolled her eyes. “That’s a bad plan.”
“Dallas, that sounds like somethin’ Jasmine would say! I can’t believe you!” Candy laughed.
“You know Candy can’t sleep with someone without catchin’ feelin’s. What you need to do, Candy, is tell him you’re not interested and you have a new man. You have to lie to these men because they can’t handle the truth. If you told him he wasn’t shit, you hate the sound of his voice, and you wish he was dead, he’d take that as a challenge and do everything in his power to be with you. Matter of fact, that is what you should do. Tell him he ain’t shit.”
Candy smirked. “You both are leadin’ me down the wrong path. I’ve made enough bad choices without you two addin’ to ’em,” she laughed.
“Well then, what are you gonna do?” Jasmine asked. “Ever since he called, you’ve been cleanin’ like a maid and stayin’ in the house like some little ol’ lady. This is gonna have to be addressed sooner or later. You obviously are still mad and have the right to be. That asshole did you dirty. He didn’t even care. He didn’t even have the decency to tell you the truth. Instead he blamed it on the wind, saying you two weren’t compatible anymore! Lyin’ ass Nig…”
“Wait a minute!” Dallas interrupted. “What if you did this instead? What if you just sent him an email – don’t call. Make it rude like he did you with that text message. Just send an email or text sayin’, “Please don’t call me again.” I swear, Ladies, we make things entirely too complicated. This man does not deserve a meetin’ between three intelligent women on what to do with him. Instead, we should be callin’ some strippers!” Dallas laughed as she whipped out her cell phone.
Candy nodded as Jasmine snorted and removed a shrimp kabob from the platter.
“He just threw me for a loop, y’all. I thought I’d never hear from him again,” Candy frowned. “I guess his new but old relationship didn’t work out either. Somethin’ is wrong with that man!” Candy laughed as she stood and picked the used napkins up from the table, taking them to the trashcan in the kitchen.
Jasmine called out while Candy walked away, “Of course it didn’t. Doesn’t it kill you when they keep bouncin’ back and forth between different women? One relationship isn’t workin’, so they go back to the old one, and then when that one hits a rough patch, they go to another one, and back and forth he goes, spreadin’ that dick between two women with his nasty ass and Lord knows who else. Y’all should see some of the stuff I’ve seen in that doctor’s office!” Jasmine shook her head. Dallas held up her hand, refusing to be subjected to Jasmine’s stories as a gynecological medical assistant. “Jasmine! Don’t even go there. I don’t wanna hear your nasty war stories from that place!”
“OK, but wait a minute,” Jasmine laughed, “This one woman, her husband gave her genital warts, it looked just like brown cauliflower. I woulda shot that fool. He had the nerve to tell her he didn’t know what she was talkin’ about, that she must have been the one messin’ around. This woman was faithful. I felt so bad for her. She was cryin’ in the office. I held her hand while Dr. Polsar lasered that shit off. The bad part is it may come back.”
“How am I supposed to finish my food now, Jasmine?” Dallas complained as Candy brought in another round of Long Island Iced Teas.
“Wait a minute, y’all. This one sista came into the office talkin’ about how she had this really strange discharge. Dr. Polsar gave her a pap smear, and she had almost everything under the sun. She was married too, and her husband had been pickin’ up prostitutes. She knew about it, but he swore he had stopped. Now she has herpes, and ain’t no coming back from that – it’s permanent! I promise you, after I finished school, I never had unprotected sex again. It just isn’t worth it! You lucky if all you get is a baby nowadays.” Jasmine rolled her big brown eyes as she crossed her long, thin caramel legs.
“That’s what really gets me,” Candy said as she sat back down. “Why is it that it seems some men have no sense of honor? We know that most of ’em cheat, but with a prostitute? Really? You go pay some drug addict for sex and don’t even use a condom? You must not care about that wife at home at all! It makes me certain I’m never gettin’ married again!” Candy dipped a jagged, salty chip into a creamy bowl of ranch dip.
“Girl, don’t let one idiot stop you from true love,” Dallas warned. “Eric was a womanizer and a manipulator. Quentin is just a bastard. You know what your problem is, Candy? You care about the man more than yourself. You get lost in the relationship. Jasmine and I used to make a joke about you. Whenever you were in a new relationship, we’d say, “Well, we won’t be seein’ Candy for a while!” You just forget about everything that used to matter to you and build your whole world around these guys. I mean, damn, Candy, you have a great career, you’re nice lookin’, and look at your crib! It’s fabulous. You cook, you clean – shit, you’re great at math and you’re a good catch.”
“Yeah, but she’s overweight,” Jasmine chimed in, swinging her crossed leg which brandished a rose tattoo.
“Jasmine!” Dallas snapped.
“Look, I’m just tellin’ the truth. Candy’s weight yo-yos like I’ve never seen. I work in the medical field, and it’s just not healthy. Candy is an emotional eater. One week, she’ll be ten pounds lighter than she is right now, then three weeks later, she’ll be twenty pounds heavier. She’s a pretty girl, don’t get me wrong. She has a really pretty face, gorgeous actually. Men look at her all the time, but that’s her downfall,” Jasmine said flippantly, rolling her eyes.
“I’m sittin’ right here, Jasmine! Don’t talk about me like I’m not in the room,” Candy warned.
“Oh, Candy. I’m sorry. We just have known each other so long I thought I could be honest with you,” Jasmine said.
“You can be honest without being nasty about it, Jasmine!” Dallas corrected. “Look, Candy, OK, your weight doe
s fluctuate and I guess…”
“Food is my drug of choice,” Candy interrupted. “I know what’s goin’ on. I’ve been down this road many times before. I’m not one of those women who walk around unaware. It’s what I do. Unlike being hooked on crack or alcohol, I have to eat. I love to cook. I also don’t have a fast metabolism like Ms. Jasmine here who apparently thinks her shit don’t stink and everyone can eat a cheeseburger and still look like her!”
“Now wait a minute, Candy. I never said that I was perfect. I was just sayin’ that…” Jasmine began to explain, before Candy interrupted her.
“I know you’re not perfect, and I know what you were saying,” Candy yelled.
“Your drug of choice is putting down others to make yourself feel better. I love you anyway, but we’re sittin’ here just being honest, right?” Candy rolled her eyes. “And screw you with that pretty-face shit. Fat girls hear that over and over again. It’s like tellin’ a paraplegic “Well, at least your legs are thin even though they don’t have muscle tone because you can’t walk” – like it’s a compliment or something. Get the hell outta here with that!”
Dallas burst out laughing, slapping her knee as Jasmine sat there stunned with her mouth open.
Jasmine took another bite of her kabob. “Heifa, you’re far too sensitive. Look, let me finish my sentence this time. Whatever is triggerin’ you to overeat is lessoning your chances of findin’ a good man. It’s the one thing that will make you lose out, because like Dallas said, you do have it all. That’s the only thing that’s missin’. You’re intelligent, funny, and everything else she said – but damn, girl, leave that fried chicken alone!” Jasmine grimaced in disgust. Candy laughed and gave her the middle finger.
Jasmine burst out laughing. “You know I love you, Candy.”
“I love you too, bastard, but don’t ask me to do your taxes next year. I’m done doin’ ’em for free. Besides, I need the additional income for my fried chicken addiction, wench!” They all laughed. The topic changed, but Candy drifted off into daydreams. She was still confused about what to do with Quentin, and the mention of her previous marriage to Eric stung.
As the evening wound down, Candy kissed and hugged her girlfriends goodbye. Alone in her quiet house, she cleaned up the kitchen and living room, going over everything slowly, ensuring that each and every crumb was discarded. She took the lipstick-stained glasses over to the sink and gently washed them as she deliberated about her love life. The glasses squeaked as she worked the thick, indigo detergent over the skinny stems. The soapy suds ran down onto her soft hands, making them shine. Candy smiled as her cat, Enchanted, rubbed against her leg, giving her an ankle hug.
As Candy finished the dishes, she dried her hands with the towel which hung perfectly in front of the sink. Slowly, she ascended the steps to the master suite. The bedroom had cathedral ceilings, large arched windows, and a pink accent wall. Candy walked towards her bed, a king-sized white canopy made of teak. White sheers hung from the sides. She slid off her sandals and disrobed, standing naked in front of a large, matching teak vanity mirror. She studied her love handles and turned to her side with disgust, looking at the thick, triple rolls of fat on her brown back. She wiped a tear from her face and quickly turned away. She walked toward her mini-library partition. Numerous books lined the walls, some of which had no titles on the spines. Those were her journals. Candy felt compelled to revisit her past this evening. Dallas, Jasmine, Eric, and Quentin all affected her in various ways. She felt like something was missing. She needed an explanation – something – anything to help her remember the feelings she had buried. She knew she would find the answers in her diaries. She pulled out multiple leather-bound, brown and black books and crawled into her bed with them, turning on the bedside table lamp. Enchanted jumped onto the bed and purred as he kneaded the sheets, preparing to go to sleep with the mistress of the house.
THE-JOURNEY-BEGINS BISCUITS
1 bag of flour
Throw it on your face.
You’re about to get a wake-up call.
Serve warm.
* * *
CHAPTER 3
Candy turned to the first journal entry and read, reminiscing about her courtship with Eric. She read each handwritten line carefully, starting from the very beginning.
* * *
“If that’s your car, you’re about to get a parkin’ ticket,” the handsome, sunkissed man said with a charismatic grin.
“But I park here all the time!” Candy said as she hurriedly took out her car keys, fumbling as a stout parking attendant drew closer.
“Hey, I’m just tryin’ to warn you,” he said as he looked back up the street, holding his Starbucks coffee in his hand. “By the way, my name is Eric. You can thank me over dinner for savin’ you the price of a ticket.” He walked up to Candy who was now sitting in her driver’s seat.
The cool, Midwest autumn breeze blew her hair softly across her perfectly made-up face.
“You’re gorgeous,” he said in almost a whisper.
“Thank you,” Candy smiled back shyly. “And thanks for the warning. I had no idea there was no parking allowed here. I’ll know better next time.” She closed the door and rolled her window down half way.
“Well, what about dinner – and your name?” he asked as he leaned into the window. Candy took notice of his one-day-old stubble; curly, jet-black hair; and dark eyebrows. He smelled like fresh-cut cedar and wore a button-down shirt, blue jeans, and work boots. An ink pen was tucked behind his ear.
“Oh, my name is Candy. I have a lot to do tonight for work, but maybe over the weekend?” she offered as she wrote her number down on a scrap of paper lying in her car.
“That’s fine with me. I’m an onsite manager for the construction company over there.” Eric pointed across the street. Candy looked around until she saw the worksite he referenced. Half the busy city street was dug up. “That’s why you can’t park here. The signs are new,” he winked and smiled.
“Oh, that would explain it!” Candy laughed nervously. She handed Eric the piece of paper.
“Well, I better be goin’, Candy. I’m gonna call you soon so we can arrange to go out for a nice dinner. It was nice meetin’ you. See you soon!” He waved as he walked briskly across the street. She saw him motion to a man to move a beam, then pick up some blueprints and review them. Candy smiled to herself as she drove off on her way to work.
* * *
The next evening Candy was curled up on her couch watching “A Nightmare on Elm Street.” The large cream bowl of buttery popcorn on her lap sat untouched as her eyes grew to the size of platters. She yelled “Wake up!” at her television in angst. ”Whoa, this is scary. What made me watch this alone?” she thought as she watched Freddy Krueger tear his latest victim to shreds. Just then her novelty phone, bright red lips, rang. She jumped then laughed at herself. She reached over to the nightstand and picked up the phone.
“Hello,” Candy answered, still looking straight ahead at her television as her heart thumped.
“Hi, Candy. This is Eric Fields, the parking ticket savior.” A bright laugh followed the introduction. “Did I catch you at a bad time?” Eric asked as screams flew from her television.
“Oh, no, I was just watchin’ “A Nightmare on Elm Street.” I’ve never seen it before,” Candy explained as she opened a bottle of diet iced tea.
Eric laughed. “That’s a good one. I can’t believe you’ve never seen it. So, you like scary movies?”
“Yeah, but I must be gettin’ old ’cause I can’t stomach ’em like I used to,” Candy chuckled.
“I like ’em a lot. It’s rare to meet a woman who likes ’em. I think you and I’ll get along well.” Candy sensed a smile through the line. “So, I’m callin’ to tie up our dinner plans. I’m free Saturday night. What about you?”
“Saturday is fine. I was just gonna go to the office and work, but I can do what I need to later.”
“OK, cool. Where would you like to go? What
type of food do you like?”
“I like all types. I’m pretty open. My least favorite is Mexican, though.” Candy looked back towards the television and winced at the carnage.
“OK, great. I know this little place that has some of the best Soul food you can get your hands on. It’s in the Hood, but it’s really nice.
“Oh, sounds good. I haven’t had any good Soul food in a while.” Candy took another sip of her bottled tea.
“Well, you’re gonna like this. I really look forward to seein’ you again. I thought about you that entire day. I hope it’s OK for me to come by and pick you up. What’s your address?”
Candy deliberated for a moment then responded. “I live in Indian Hill.”
“Oh, really? You’re in one of those nice, expensive houses!” Eric teased. “I did some work out there. That’s a real nice area,” he complimented.
“Yeah, I like it ’cause it’s quiet. I can get some peace. My job keeps me busy, and it’s nice to come home and just chill.”
“I understand. Where do you work?” Eric laughed, blowing out a large marijuana smoke ring.
“I just started a new job at a company called Blue Sun. It’s great, but it’s very demanding. I’m the Director of Finance and report directly to the CEO.”
“That’s wonderful. It’s nice to see our people coming up. Tell me somethin’, Candy. What’s a fine lookin’ woman like you doin’ single with what appears to be everything goin’ for you? I must’ve hit the lottery.” She could feel him smiling into the phone.
“Well, I date a lot. I just haven’t found that special someone.”
“Candy, let me lay my cards on the table for you so you don’t even have to ask. I got out of a long-term relationship seven months ago. I enjoyed being single for a while, but now I’m really tryin’ to settle down again. I like bein’ exclusive with someone, so I’m just lettin’ you know I’m not out for fun and games. I want to get to know you and for you to know me.”
I Want Candy Page 3