So You Call Yourself a Man

by Carl Weber

  “Where you think you’re going?” Michelle was in my face, her finger stabbing at my chest.

  “Home to my wife and children,” I told her bluntly. “I gotta get up at six in the morning for work. I don’t got time for these games.”

  “You’re not going anywhere until I get back from the club.” She lifted her finger until it was about two inches from my nose. “Don’t piss me off, James. I was planning on coming home early, but I could stay out all night.”

  “I don’t give a damn when you come home. I’m not going to be here.” I took a step toward the door and she took a step to block me. When I tried to get around her again, she stepped in front of the door so it would be impossible for me to open it without physically moving her. I didn’t want to lay my hands on her, because they might take on a life of their own and do things I’d vowed I would never do to a woman.

  “Get outta my way, Michelle.”

  “I said no! Now, you gonna babysit tonight so I can go out, or I promise you I’ll make your life a living hell.”

  “You think you haven’t already? Now move, damn it!” She folded her arms defiantly and I took a step closer. I really needed to get out of there before I hurt her. She was pulling something out of me that had never surfaced before, and the funny thing is, I really didn’t care. Yes, I knew if I hit her I’d end up in jail, but I was starting to think it might just be worth it.

  “Why, so you can go home to that bitch of yours?”

  “You calling my wife a bitch?” I could feel myself start to hyperventilate, the muscles in my neck and shoulders bulging. At the same time, my hands were now balled up into fists. There was no doubt in my mind that things were about to become physical. I think Michelle sensed it because without saying another word, she stepped out of my way. “Tell Marcus I’ll try to call him tomorrow,” I said.

  She sucked her teeth and rolled her eyes, which made me smile when I walked out the door. I’d finally stood up to her. I felt like a prizefighter who’d been getting his ass whipped the entire fight but found a way to knock out his opponent in the final round. It felt good to finally win one. I was going to have to be sterner with Michelle in the future. She wasn’t the type you could reason with. You had to tell her how it was going to be. Now that I looked back on it, I wished I had stood up to her on day one.

  “Hey, James,” Michelle shouted after me. “You might wanna hear this before you go home.” I turned to see her standing on the walkway about fifteen feet from my car. She was grinning so wide, I knew something bad was about to happen.

  “What do you want, Michelle?”

  “Oh, nothing…. I just thought you might wanna hear what I’m about to tell your wife.” She flipped open a black cell phone that I hadn’t even noticed was in her hand. My heart almost stopped when she started pushing numbers and raised the phone to her ear. “Hello, Mrs. Robinson, you don’t know me, but my name is Michelle, and—”

  She never finished the sentence. Within seconds, I had knocked the phone out of her hand and the two of us were scrambling on the ground, trying to get it. I never hit her once, but when it was all said and done, I had her pinned to the ground with my body, and the cell phone was closed in my hand. Despite being on what you might call the losing end, Michelle was laughing her ass off.

  “What the hell is so funny?”

  “We used to wrestle just like this back in the day, when you had to go home and I’d take your keys because I didn’t want you to leave, remember?”

  Yeah, I remembered all right. After we wrestled, we’d always ended up making love again before she’d let me leave. I looked in her face, and for the first time since she’d told me Marcus was my son, the glow was back. We stared at each other for a few seconds without saying a word. I don’t know if it was the fact that we’d just finished wrestling or what, but I had this crazy urge to kiss her, and I’m sure she would have reciprocated if I had. I brought my lips closer to hers as I considered going forward with my urge. I knew if we kissed, we were going to end up in bed doing all the freaky shit men do with their mistresses that they won’t do with their wives. And that was the trap: the kinky shit, shit I wanted to do with Cathy but was too afraid to ask, that had you coming back again and again for more.

  I lowered my lips even closer to Michelle’s, but before I pressed them against hers, I thought, Why can’t I ask Cathy to do the kinky stuff Michelle would do? After all, she is my wife. That’s why we’re married. And on that note, the glow was gone and I had no more desire for Michelle. I pulled my head back and pushed myself off her. I could tell from her expression she was disappointed, but she didn’t say anything.

  Just then, her phone rang, and we both knew it was Cathy calling back.

  “So, I guess I’m going to the club now, huh?” I nodded and she said, “You better let me answer it, because she’s just gonna keep calling.”

  I took a leap of faith and handed her the phone.

  “Hello?” I watched as she listened, praying she wasn’t going to do anything stupid. “Yes, I’m sorry about that, Mrs. Robinson. I must have dropped the signal. Like I was saying, you don’t know me, but my son is in the same grade as your son, James. I was wondering if you could tell me who to call to get him in the Little League.”

  19

  Sonny

  I was staring at the family portrait that I’d taken from the wall of my apartment when I left with Mr. Hopkins. Tears were falling from my eyes as all kinds of memories of my wife and kids flooded my mind. We had a good family, and I’d been racking my brain trying to figure out what went wrong. Was I that bad as a husband and provider? How could she do this to me? She’d stripped me of my dignity and literally left me with nothing more than a few boxes and the shirt on my back. I’d never been so humiliated in my entire life. That was okay, though, because after tonight, when it was all said and done, the pain might not be gone, but I’d be able to move on with my life.

  Straightening out the portrait of my family, I took out my lighter and flicked it on, turning it up until a two-inch flame came out. I kissed each of my kids before placing the portrait under the flame. I took one last look at Jessica, and a tear rolled down my face until I could taste it.

  “I’m sorry,” I whispered as I watched my family go up in smoke, “but what I need is closure.”

  From that point on, I sat back in my seat and waited for her to come out of her office. Fifteen minutes later, like clockwork, she walked out of the building and headed for her car. She was wearing a navy-blue suit that was very professional, but it couldn’t cover her large behind, and every guy she passed was breaking his neck to look at it. I’m not going to lie, it pissed me off the way they were looking at her, and I didn’t calm down until she got in her car.

  Once she pulled out of the parking lot, I hung back a few cars as I followed her. There was no need to be all up on her and make her notice me. I’d known where she was going before she even got in the car. After all, I had been following her for almost two weeks without her knowledge, and she was, if anything, a creature of habit. I still couldn’t believe I hadn’t caught her with a man yet. Then again, that was probably a good thing because I would have lost it right then and there. It was hard enough trying not to approach her these past two weeks. When she pulled in front of the school, I parked about a block and a half away so I could see her car with my mirrors but wouldn’t attract any attention. The last thing I wanted was for some observant parent to start talking to school officials about the suspicious white cargo van that seemed to show up around the same time every day the after school program let out.

  The kids were in some type of fancy after-school program where she had to go inside to sign them out. How she could afford to pay for private school and an after-school program on a receptionist’s salary I don’t know, but I made a mental note to find out.

  About five minutes later, she drove past, never even looking my way. I didn’t pull out behind her because it was Thursday and I knew she’d be headed
to the supermarket. I happened to know a shortcut that would get me there at least five to ten minutes before she arrived, so I’d be waiting when she got there.

  Just as I predicted, I was parked and waiting for her when she pulled into the underground garage at the supermarket. It looked like today was the day I’d finally execute my plan, because she’d parked right where I wanted her to. I gave her a minute for her and the kids to leave the parking garage and go in the store, then I jumped out of the van, hurrying after them. I was getting pretty good at this sleuth shit, because once they doubled back and came down the same aisle where I was, but they never even noticed I was there following them. It’s amazing what a hat and some sunglasses can do to change your appearance. I’d thought about confronting her when she was in the supermarket, but there were too many people around for what I had planned. I watched her and the kids fill up a shopping cart for about thirty minutes, then slipped back to the parking garage when they headed toward the register.

  Once inside the parking garage, I glanced at my watch. I had about five minutes to get my plan into action, so I headed straight for my van. I got in, ditching the disguise before I searched for an empty parking space between the entrance of the garage and her car. The hard part was finding a space she’d definitely pass. Luckily, just as I started to search with the van, a car pulled out of the perfect space and I backed into it. Immediately, I shut off the van and unlocked the hood. I checked my watch again. Two minutes to go, I thought, as I stepped out of the van and stretched. Every muscle in my body felt like a rubber band, I was so nervous.

  Please, God, don’t let me get caught, I prayed.

  I walked around to the front of the van and lifted the hood. When I spotted her and the kids entering the garage, I took a deep breath, bending over the van so my head was underneath the hood like I was trying to fix something. A few seconds later, I could hear the kids running around, but I never lifted my head up from the engine, even when I heard her yelling at them a few feet away.

  “Damn it, Tony, didn’t I tell you to get your butt over to this cart?”

  Patience, Sonny, patience, my boy, I kept telling myself. She’s almost there.

  By this time, she was close enough for me to hear the cart and see the kids’ feet. Once I saw her feet, I purposely backed into her cart.

  “Ah, shit, watch where you’re going,” I growled angrily.

  “Oh, I’m sorry, mister.” It took a few seconds for her to recognize me, but when she did, her jaw dropped as if she was frozen in time. I would have paid good money to know what was going through her mind at that exact moment.

  “Sonny? What are you doing here?” she whispered, grabbing the boy by his collar. I didn’t say a word, but a huge grin crept across my face. I’d gotten the exact reaction I’d been looking for, and her look of surprise said it all.

  “Didn’t think you’d ever see me again, did you?” There was a long pause between my words. I rested my hand against a pole, blocking the path to her car.

  “No, I can’t say I did.” She smiled, snapping out of her haze.

  “It’s good to see you again, Tiffany.”

  “It’s good to see you again, Sonny.” She let go of her son and walked over to give me a hug. I held her tight, keeping the embrace for a little longer than she expected. When I finally let her go, she stared at me, looking confused. “What are you doing here? I thought you lived in Seattle.”

  “I did, but things have changed in the past few weeks.” I turned toward the van, pulling the hood down with a look of frustration. “My wife left me for another man. I just returned from Seattle today. That’s why I’m driving this raggedy rental van that just broke down.” I kicked the car tire.

  “I’m sorry to hear that, Sonny.” She wasn’t really sorry, which was evident from the smirk that was slowly taking over her face.

  “Are you sorry about my marriage or the van?”

  “Both.”

  “Then why are you smiling?”

  “Let’s just say…because I’m happy for me,” she admitted. Her hesitation was probably because the last time she spoke boldly to me, things didn’t work out the way she had planned. But what she didn’t know was that this time, I had planned this out very carefully.

  I turned my attention to her children. “So, who is this handsome young man and beautiful young lady?”

  “I’m sorry. These are my children, Tony and Nikki. Say hi to Mr. Harrison, guys.”

  They both waved, reminding me of my kids.

  “So, if your van’s broke, can I give you a lift somewhere?”

  You can give me a lot more than that, I thought, as my eyes drank in her figure.

  “Only if I can take you and your kids to Chuck E. Cheese first.”

  Both kids jumped up in the air. “Please, Mom. Please, please, please!” they screamed, and she nodded.

  And there it was in a nutshell. My plan had worked. Yes, I could have gone about bumping into Tiffany a lot of different ways. Hell, I could have just gone to her house; I knew where she lived. But anyone who knows anything about women knows the key to their hearts is always through their children. If you can win over her children, then getting her to love you is easy. So now I was on the path to doing what I’d planned. I was moving on with my life the best way I knew how. I was going to replace one family for another. That way, I could finally have closure.

  20

  Brent

  It was Sunday, the Lord’s day, and the first day I’d seen my wife for longer than a couple of hours since we returned from our honeymoon. Oh, she was sleeping at home, but after work she’d rush straight over to the hospital to visit with the first lady, then over to the bishop’s house to make his dinner and lunch for the next day. Now, going to see the first lady every day was all right with me. I mean, the lady was dying, and you can’t get back lost time. But this cooking the bishop’s meals stuff was out, especially since I was home alone eating TV dinners and spaghetti out of a can. Don’t get me wrong, I knew the bishop was an important man and he had to eat, but he had three or four hundred women in the congregation who would love to cook his meals. Why the heck was it my wife’s responsibility? That question was the main reason Alison and I were arguing in the church parking lot before we went in for Sunday service.

  “Brent, I promised Charlene I’d do it. Besides, the bishop loves my cooking and he’s got to eat.”

  “I don’t care, Alison. Your husband loves your cooking also, and he’s got to eat too. Now, you tell the first lady you can’t do it. Matter of fact, if it will help, tell her I said you can’t do it. There are plenty of women in the church who can cook the bishop some good meals.”

  “But Brent—”

  I cut her off. “But nothing. You think I don’t know what this is all about? You and the first lady ain’t slick.” She gave me this What-are-you-talking-about? expression. “I know what you’re up to. I know you don’t want any women in that house.” Her silence confirmed my suspicions. “You two don’t give the man any credit, do you? He loves his wife, Alison. She doesn’t have anything to worry about.”

  “I know that, Brent, but Charlene said…Brent, I promised her. I can’t go back on a promise.”

  “What about the promises you made to me? I guess those don’t mean anything. Maybe I should talk to Lisa Jackson or Sydney Wilson about cooking for me. I’m sure if I told them that you were too busy to cook my meals, they’d be happy to volunteer.”

  Alison’s face lost all expression. She knew that Lisa and Sydney had been after me from the start. Sydney didn’t even come to our wedding because she was so upset by our marriage. Alison was also intimidated by their high-fashion looks and slim bodies.

  “You wouldn’t,” she challenged, but it was obvious she was scared.

  “Why not? A man’s got to eat. Isn’t that what you just told me?”

  “Brent, don’t do this. Don’t twist my words. Charlene is sick.”

  “So am I, Alison. I’m sick of you not be
ing home. I didn’t get married to sit at home alone. I told you when we got married that I wanted a family. I thought we were going to try and have a baby right away.”

  Her voice warmed up as if for the first time she realized what was wrong. “We are, honey. It’s just that she’s my friend and she’s sick. Wouldn’t you want her to be there for me if the shoe was on the other foot?”

  “No—I mean, yes. But I wouldn’t want her cooking my meals, and I’m sure the bishop wouldn’t allow it. Now, you can visit her every day, but when visiting hours are over, I want you home. Don’t get me wrong, but it’s been two weeks since…well, you know…and I miss you.” I gave her the look.

  I know how this sounds, but it wasn’t really the sex that I missed. It was the affection, the camaraderie. Shoot, I just missed my wife and best friend. But if she was willing to come home if she thought it was all about the sex, then that’s what I’d let her believe.

  “Ohhhh, baby, I’m sorry.” Alison almost looked ashamed, like she was just realizing she might be at fault here. “But you know what? As soon as we get home from church today, Mama’s going to cook your favorite dinner, then take you upstairs and put it on you in bed. I think tonight’s as good a night as any to make a baby.” She leaned her head on my shoulder in a gesture of affection.

  “Alison, that sounds great, but it’s not just about that. I just want my best friend back.”

  “I never left, baby. You’ll see.” I took her hand and we kissed passionately until we were interrupted by a knock on my window. When we looked up, we saw several of our fellow church members laughing at us.

  “Hey, you two lovebirds, this is a church, not a motel. Get a room!” Everyone standing outside our car laughed as Shorty, the church’s new youth minister and church clown, cracked one joke after another until we stepped out of the car, blushing.

  “I’m gonna get you for this, Shorty,” I told him with a grin as I slapped his hand.