by Xenia Ruiz
“You know, Adam’s a real nice guy. I hope he rubs off on you. Maybe if you start concentrating on your own love life, you can let your sister handle her own.”
“Hey, you guys talking about me?” Maya teased, as she slipped behind us and linked her arms into each one of ours, dragging us into the living room area. “Did we make up? Are we getting to know each other?”
“Oh, yeah,” Luciano said sarcastically.
“Mm-hmm,” I echoed.
It was getting late but everyone else was settling down in the living room to watch a movie on DVD. I didn’t know about Adam, but I was not about to sit down among three couples and ignore the sexual energy as they all stole secret looks or touches. I announced that I had to get home and feed King, not to mention I still had some office work to do before Monday rolled around. As I said my farewells, Adam pulled me onto the balcony.
“I saw you and Luciano talking earlier,” he said. “He didn’t get out of line, did he?”
“No. He apologized, I apologized. We’re not friends, but we don’t hate each other.” I didn’t mention Luciano’s comment about Adam rubbing off on me or his suggestion that I concentrate on my own love life, since I didn’t think anything would be gained from disclosing this information.
“I’m sorry about that. He can be a jerk sometimes. Especially when he’s drinking.”
“I’m just sorry he’s your friend. You deserve better friends.”
He handed me a blank envelope, which wasn’t sealed. I pulled out two tickets to the Danté concert in a couple of weeks. “Where did you get these?”
“I was scanning The Reader last week and I ran across the ad.”
“Thanks. Maya heard they were coming to Chicago. She was the one who introduced me to them. She’s going to love this. How much do I owe you?”
“Well, I thought we …” Adam started, and then I realized that he hadn’t bought the tickets for Maya and me.
“Oh, you got these for … you and me?” I was embarrassed and I could tell by his look that he was just as uncomfortable.
“No, I mean—if you want to go with your sister …”
“No. I want … we can go. I just thought you didn’t really like the music. You said you couldn’t understand the words.”
“I like the music. I said I couldn’t understand a lot of what they say, but I like it.”
“Okay. Let’s go. How much were the tickets?”
“Don’t worry about it.”
“No, I want to pay for mine.”
He scoffed. “Do you always have to be so … such a feminist? Do you think I expect something in return? I don’t. I’m not the kind of man who keeps a tab on the amount of money I spend on a woman.”
“I’m not a feminist,” I objected. “I just feel better if I pay my share. That’s the way my mother raised me.”
“Well, my mama taught me that a gentleman always pays.”
“That only goes if you’re dating. Or in a relationship.”
“Fine,” he said curtly. “Twenty bucks. It’s a fund-raiser.”
“You’re not mad, are you?”
“No, I’m not,” he snapped, but it was obvious he was. “I just saw the ad and I thought this would be something you’d enjoy—”
“And like a typical woman, I ruined a nice gesture.”
“I didn’t say that.”
“Look, I think we just need to establish some rules up front so we know where we stand. So we don’t misunderstand each other.”
“Like?”
“Like, we have to decide whether we’re going to be friends doing things every once in a while, or if we’re going to date.”
“I think we’ve gone beyond friendship, don’t you? Friends don’t kiss like we did. I mean, we obviously feel something more than friendship. Right?”
I clasped my hands together, but he grabbed them apart and held them. Surprised by his sudden touch, I looked quickly toward the balcony’s glass doors and saw Jade turn from the TV screen to glance over at us curiously. We were far enough away so we couldn’t be heard, but I still felt self-conscious because we were in plain sight.
“Am I right? Eva?”
“I told you, that kiss—”
“I’m not just talking about the kiss,” he implored. He took a couple of steps away from the windows so the others couldn’t see us, pulling me with him and steering me against the brick wall. My hands started tingling with anxiety and I pressed my fingernails into the palms to stop the feeling. I couldn’t meet his eyes so instead I looked at the scar on his chest. I didn’t like being so close to him and yet, I could feel my heart quicken. It wasn’t like when we were in the bathroom and the kiss happened so suddenly. Then, I didn’t know what to expect. Now, I knew exactly what could happen. He placed one hand above me on the wall and swept off my hat with the other hand, flicking it on the table like a Frisbee. Then he took a strand of my hair and began to twirl it. I could smell his musk cologne mixed with charcoal and barbecue sauce. He smelled so good. I bit my top lip, then the bottom, hard, to keep myself in check. Set a guard over my mouth … He leaned in and I tensed up, pressing my head against the wall. Keep watch over the door of my lips …
“Adam …”
He slipped the shades slowly down my nose and tossed them on the patio table. “The sun set an hour ago.”
“If we’re going to date, you have to realize …” I informed him, slowly losing ground, “… that I’m serious about my celibacy.”
He bent his head, gently parting my lips with his bottom one, and then he began probing the inner crevices of my mouth like he was searching for something he had lost. When his tongue found mine, a tide of desire washed through my body. Before I had a chance to protest or kiss him back, he pulled back.
“You asked me if I could be with a woman without having a sexual relationship,” he began quietly. “The answer is, ‘I don’t know.’ I’ve never had that kind of a relationship with a woman. Every woman I’ve been with, I’ve gone to bed with. You said you can’t be in a relationship that may not lead to marriage, but you don’t know if you ever want to get married again. I know I’m not ready for marriage. Eventually, I do want to get married, but not for a while.”
He was still twirling my hair around and around his finger, until his hand reached my scalp. Something told me I should take my hair back before he started to massage my scalp, make me weak like he did before. I reached up and took hold of his wrist, but I didn’t push him away.
“I haven’t stopped thinking about you since I met you. Those are my honest feelings. Now it’s your turn,” he continued.
As he spoke, all kinds of thoughts ran through my head. How incredibly smooth he was, how everything he was saying would have made the average woman melt, how he was only telling me what he thought I wanted to hear. My first instinct was to challenge him, to let him know I wasn’t the average woman; my second was to believe him and be completely honest with him in return. But how did I know he was telling the truth? I went with my first instinct.
“You say you’re being honest, but how do I know for sure—”
“Oh, my God!” He released my hair and slapped the brick wall with his other hand.
I was momentarily taken aback by his anger and his use of the Lord’s name in vain, so I ducked under his arm to move away from him, where the balcony’s five-foot-high railing and wall met. Even though heights made me dizzy, at that moment, I felt safer being close to the railing four flights above ground level than being near him.
“It amazes me how people use God’s name so carelessly but are so afraid to use it in praise as easily,” I told him, not caring if I sounded high and mighty.
He slowly stepped in front of me. “Sorry. I’m sorry. It’s just that you make me so … crazy. Here I am opening myself to you … If you think this is a cheap attempt at getting you to change your mind, to get you to have sex with me eventually, let me tell you, I don’t have to work this hard. There are women out there I could hav
e, easy.”
I looked at him askance. I wasn’t sure if I was supposed to feel grateful or jealous by his last statement.
The wind was picking up in intensity, and without my hat to keep my hair in place, it blew wildly all over. He reached out to brush it away from my face, but when I crossed my arms, he stopped. He gripped the railing instead and continued. “But I don’t want that. What I’m trying to say is, I’m willing to make an effort to have that kind of relationship with you and whatever happens, happens. But don’t assume that you know what’s going to happen, ’cause you don’t. Nobody knows. You’re not a psychic or a prophet.”
“You don’t have to be a prophet to see the future.”
Adam leaned against the railing with weariness and held up his hands as if in surrender. I grappled with my inner voices. Is this man for me, God? He said he’s willing to try. Should I believe him? I didn’t have to wait long, because the answer came in the wind. Yes, yes, yes. Or maybe I thought I heard it.
Nervously, I peeled myself away from the corner and stood in front of him. He looked at me with what seemed like tired, lifeless eyes. I reached up and attempted to cup his face with my hands, but this time, it was he who pulled back in defense, as if I were going to hurt him. As I pulled his face down to mine, he still looked suspicious, his thick brows furrowed. With my thumbs, I stroked his eyebrows, taming the wild hairs that were sticking out, easing their tension.
“Adán, you’ve been on my mind, too. A lot.”
And then our lips touched.
CHAPTER 16
ADAM
THE DANTÉ CONCERT was in a small club called God Search, a sort of spiritual “Star Search” for religious artists who were looking to succeed in the Christian music industry. Apparently, Danté’s drummer was related to the owner of the club, who had arranged for them to play a benefit. The place was jumping just like a real concert, complete with people raising the roof, albeit in praise, and holding up cigarette lighters. The way the crowd was yelling and clapping and dancing gave the impression that they were high on drugs or booze. Maya caught me eyeing them suspiciously and explained that they were high on the spirit. While I was feeling the music, swaying to the reggae beat along with everyone else, I didn’t feel the same holy fervor that Eva and Maya seemed to be feeling as they lifted their hands in worship, their eyes closed in reverence. Even with gospel, my main choice of worship music, I had never felt truly “blessed” and I found myself envious of their open devotion.
When Maya heard I was taking Eva to the concert, she bought two more tickets for her and Luciano. But Luciano backed out at the last minute, claiming he had to do something for his mother. He didn’t tell Maya the truth, that Lisa had finally called him because she was ready to talk. The night of the barbecue, he had deliberately gotten drunk and made a fool of himself because he couldn’t bring himself to tell Maya. Things went according to his plan when Maya left my place angrily, making it easier for him to go back to Lisa. In his place, Maya invited Simone, neglecting to tell her that Danté was a Christian band, evidenced by the skin-tight zebra pantsuit she was wearing. Though Luciano’s comments comparing me to a loyal dog at the party angered me, I had dismissed them as the words of a jealous and intoxicated man.
After the concert, I saw Maya grab Eva’s arm with desperation, leaning against her as they walked ahead together toward the parking lot. Eva looked back at me helplessly. I had no choice but to walk with Simone who, from the little time I had known her, seemed to be a very self-assured sister in need of much attention. Although she had two men in her life who apparently supplied her needs, she didn’t seem happy or satisfied. But since she had been Eva and Maya’s friend since high school, something kept their friendship intact.
“How did you like the concert, S’Monée?” I asked, remembering how she had corrected Maya’s pronunciation of her name when we were first introduced.
“I could kill Maya for inviting me,” Simone said furiously, hugging her jacket around her.
I smiled. “I’m guessing she didn’t tell you they played Christian music.”
“Did you know?”
“Yeah. I heard them before. I like the music.”
“Man, it just seems like everywhere I turn these days, somebody’s trying to get me saved. I mean, I go to church—every once in a while. I’m a good person—most of the time. I’m happy with my spirituality. Why can’t people just let people believe what they want to believe, you know what I’m saying?”
“It must be hard to be the friend of two sisters who are so close,” I said, gesturing toward Eva and Maya who were whispering and clinging to each other as if they were privy to a conspiracy.
“Sometimes. I have two sisters but we’re not as close. They were always so jealous of me when we were growing up. Maya and Eva are closer to me than they are. The only area we don’t see eye-to-eye is this salvation thing. Oh, and Eva and I definitely don’t agree on the topic of men.”
When I didn’t answer, she continued.
“Like I don’t think one man can satisfy one woman’s needs and vice versa. And I don’t believe you necessarily have to love someone to have sex with them. Eva thinks sex outside of marriage is a sin,.” She said the word “sin” like it was a curse word.
I smiled evasively and didn’t say anything since she really didn’t ask me a direct question.
“What do you think? You think you’ll change her mind or will she change yours?”
I took the Fifth once again, knowing how women talk and that anything I said would almost certainly get back to Eva.
She laughed. “Alright, it’s none of my business. Did you know we call her Evileen?”
“To her face or behind her back?” I asked, trying not to show my amusement.
“Both. ’Cause she’s such a man-hater.”
“I don’t think she’s so much a man-hater as she is selective.”
She looked at me skeptically. “Are you one of those saved people?”
“Well, officially, I did accept Jesus as my savior when I was twelve, but I guess they’d say I’m a backslider since I don’t go to church regularly and all.”
“Et tu, Judas?” she asked.
I was surprised with her astuteness at mixing Shakespeare and the New Testament, and I guess it showed on my face because she laughed again and nudged me.
“I’m not just a pretty face and a great body,” she teased.
Her coquettishness made me a little uneasy and I was glad when we reached Maya’s SUV in the parking lot. Maya hurried somberly into the passenger side of the truck.
“So, what’s up for the rest of the night?” Simone asked as Eva walked up.
“Maya wants to go home. She’s kind of upset,” Eva explained.
“Why?” Simone asked. Eva gave her one of those surreptitious looks women give each other that only they can understand. I looked away pretending I was invisible and waited. Maya had picked up Eva and Simone in her SUV, so I knew either they would all go with Maya and have a therapy session, or Simone was going to draw the short straw and have to play the role of chauffeur and nursemaid. Although I was looking forward to having dinner with Eva, I also knew I was the new guy and could easily be the first casualty.
“I’m not ready to go home,” Simone said stubbornly. “I’m hungry.”
Eva gave her a harsh look and then pulled Simone’s jacket sleeve, dragging her toward the rear of the truck. I could see they were arguing and I decided to do the right thing and make myself scarce. I walked up to them.
“You guys go on ahead. We’ll talk later, Eva.”
“No. Simone’s going to take Maya home,” Eva said firmly, looking grimly at Simone. “She’s in no condition to drive.” I glanced toward the truck and saw Maya’s face puffy from crying. I felt slightly guilty but at the same time glad that Eva wanted to be with me as much as I wanted to be with her.
“What is she, drunk?” Simone asked bitterly.
“Good night, Simone,” Eva said.
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“S’Monée. Why can’t you respect my wishes and call me by my name? Adam did,” Simone demanded, her eyes blazing. She opened the driver’s door. Then she turned back around. “Hey, how am I supposed to get home?”
“Tell Alex to drop you off. Or spend the night. Figure it out, S’Monée,” Eva retorted.
As we walked toward my car, I began to wonder if it was a good idea for us to have dinner since Eva seemed so irritated, not to mention that during the concert, I had noticed her wincing and surmised she had one of her headaches, although she didn’t complain. I didn’t want her to take it out on me. When she had leaned against me during a slow song, I could smell the mint massage oil on her temple combined with her usual rose oil scent.
“We don’t have to do this tonight,” I offered. “If you want to go with your girls …”
“No, I’m fine. I’m just tired of being everyone’s therapist. Everybody thinks I’m supposed to be this strong person and I have all the answers. But then they don’t like the answers I give them.”
My car was parked several spaces away in the lot. I surmised that Maya’s meltdown had to do with Luciano, recalling how Maya had excused herself several times to go to the bathroom, clutching her cell phone. I caught the look of exasperation and disgust growing on Eva’s face. We both knew she was trying to reach Luciano on his cell.
“She finally got hold of Luciano,” Eva said after we rode in silence for several blocks. “She knows he wasn’t at his mother’s.” I still wore my poker face but she didn’t call me on it. “She could tell by the way he was talking that he was with his wife. You know, cagey, whispering. She thinks he was in bed with her.”
“Well, she is his wife.”
“Yes, she is.”
“Is she going to be okay?”
“Of course she is. Maya’s strong. As long as she leans on God and stays away from Luciano, she’ll be fine.”