“You can be happy with someone white. Eventually, Rebecca, you’re going to have to make the decision to drop him. No man is worth your family. Remember that.”
Dad stood up and kissed me on the forehead. “I’m going to the country club. After this discussion with you, I need to unwind.”
* * *
What my parents never seemed to understand was I didn’t love Ben because of his race. I loved him for who he was.
After the streak of losers I dated, I knew Ben was different.
Some guys dated me because they knew I was well off financially. Some men dated me because they just wanted to fuck me. Then there were guys that dated me for both, to use me for my wealth and get some ass. Most times, I could clearly see through those types. I was used to being treated as merely rich eye candy, but Ben was different. Ben knew I was wealthy and never asked me for anything. I loved that the fact that I had money didn’t matter to him.
While most of the men I dated in the past wanted me to dumb myself down for their enjoyment, I never had to for Ben.
Beyond my physical attraction, I loved Ben’s drive, his intellect, and his surreal ability to bring the best out of me and make me feel good about myself when so many people brought me down. He made me feel beautiful, smart, and, most importantly, special.
The Virgo in him paid attention to detail, and he noticed little things about me. He knew when I was sad or hurt and what to do to make me happy. Unlike the guys I dated before him, Ben read all of my articles. He didn’t give them a bullshit skim job, either. He took the time to read and understand everything.
Ben opened my eyes to a lot of things. He introduced me to new music and foods and gave me a new perspective on life in general. Dating a black man was not the same as dating a white one. The adversities we faced pushed me out of my comfort zone, and I learned more about the sad truth about race than I ever would have if I dated someone white.
I knew our love wouldn’t be easy. I remembered being approached by two women in the ladies’ room on one of our first dates.
* * *
I was standing in front of the bathroom mirror, washing my hands and checking my makeup when two black women approached me.
“Don’t you hate seeing these white girls stealing our men?” a brown-skinned woman with short hair and a shapely figure asked.
“Uh-huh, it’s tragic,” the other woman said. She was a dark-skinned woman with flawless skin and almond-shaped eyes.
Thinking back on that day, I should’ve ignored them and walked away, but I confronted them.
“Excuse me, are you talking about me?” I asked.
The brown-skinned woman stepped up to me and answered, “Yup.”
They both crowded around me.
Her friend chimed in, “You’re nothing special, yet we always have to compete with white bitches like you.”
I wasn’t moved. I wasn’t intimidated by loudmouthed women. I’d been bullied by girls all my life growing up. I didn’t back down then, and I wouldn’t back down now. I looked them both in their faces.
“Look, you don’t know me, so you can’t say I’m nothing special. I’m sorry if you feel like you’re losing your men to white women like me, but maybe you need to step your game up.”
Before they could say anything else, I shoved past them.
“Pardon my back,” I said, walking out the door.
Ben and I were getting ready to leave when the women saw us and gave us the finger.
I held Ben’s hand and smiled at the women. I wasn’t ashamed or intimidated by them. I was proud to be with him, and I didn’t care who thought otherwise.
* * *
Back then, when we were in college, I often found myself staring at Ben in admiration when I watched him studying and working his ass off. He inspired me to have a strong work ethic, and he always encouraged me to stick with my dream of being a novelist. The truth was that Ben made me a better person.
I loved the life I’d built with Ben, but there was one obstacle in my way of complete happiness: his best friend, Gabby. That bitch had broken his heart before we dated, and he was still best friends with her. She’d love to have me out of the way so she could have him for herself, and that scared me. Ben constantly tried to convince me that it was all in my head and assure me that Gabby didn’t want him, but I knew women. I saw the way she eyed him possessively, like she was ready to take him from me. Whenever Ben and she were around each other, I saw their chemistry, and it made me insecure. They were both movie fanatics, so they often amused each other by having full conversations in just movie quotes.
They had a history together and bonded in a way that made me question if he could ever truly be happy with me, a white woman. His relationship with Gabby made me question if I were good enough for him on all levels.
At one point, I was so intimidated by Gabby that I tried to overcompensate for growing up sheltered and wealthy by acting how I felt Ben would be more comfortable.
I remembered putting on my tightest, ass-hugging jeans, my Jimmy Choo stilettos, and, to complete my ensemble, my big gold hoop earrings.
* * *
“Baby, what are you doing?” Ben asked.
“Nuttin’, just representin’!”
“Baby, stop. Don’t do that.”
“Don’t do what?”
“Don’t act like something you’re not. I fell in love with who you are. I don’t want you to pretend to be something else. Just be yourself.”
“Was I acting stereotypically?”
He laughed and nodded. “every.”
“Would other black people be offended if I acted like that in public?”
“Definitely,” he said with a smirk.
I sighed. “Fine. I’m sorry. I’ll knock it off... but I’m keeping these hoop earrings. I’m really feeling them.”
We laughed together, and I appreciated knowing that Ben accepted and loved me for who I was, flaws and all.
The first time I met Gabby at Ben’s apartment in college was a disaster, and over the years, it’d only gotten worse. She always seemed to be in my way. I remembered the first time I met Ben’s parents.
“Mom, Dad, I want you to meet my girlfriend,, Rebecca,” Ben said, smiling.
Mr. Turner smiled and said, “It’s very nice to meet you, Rebecca. Call me Curtis.”
“Hello, Rebecca,” Mrs. Turner said.
The apparent dislike in her tone made it obvious she wasn’t feeling me.
“Please call me Becky,” I smiled.
“Where’s Simone?” Ben asked.
“Your silly cousin is out on another date with one of her white boys. This one will break her heart too, just like they all do. She never learns,” Mrs. Turner said, looking at me.
His mom didn’t seem too thrilled about his cousin dating someone white, so I felt like I needed to impress his parents.
I spent a good twenty minutes telling them about myself. I told them about the private schools I went to and my father being the head of a major brokerage firm on Wall Street. I told them about all of the volunteer hours I did at homeless shelters and the work I did with minority children at the Boys and Girls Clubs. I thought that would give me some Brownie points and show them that I was far from prejudiced. I hoped everything I said was enough, but the blasé looks on their faces made me feel like everything I said put me even further out of their favor.
I finished my babbling by sharing my plans to graduate from Columbia with a bachelor’s degree in journalism and English literature, and standing side by side proudly with Ben on that day. I added that I already had a job lined up for after college, but his parents still seemed unmoved.
Then the doorbell rang.
“I’ll get it,” Mrs. Turner said.
Ben whispered in my ear, “You’re doing great. They’re judges, so they’re big on listening and observing more than being vocal about what they’re thinking, but I know they like you.”
I smiled, but that quickly went away when Mr
s. Turner came back to the table, joking and laughing with Gabby.
“Hey, Big Head,” Gabby said to Ben. She turned to face me. “Hi, Becky.”
I nodded, but I couldn’t hide the pissed-off expression on my face.
“What are you doing here?” Ben asked.
“I always hang out with your momma on Sundays. We usually have our mani/pedi date Sunday mornings, but I had to work this morning. Your mom texted me and invited me to dinner, so here I am.”
Gabby turned to Mrs. Turner and said, “I never turn down a free meal.” They laughed and high fived.
I knew for sure Ben had specifically told his parents he was bringing me so they could get to know me. If his mother openly invited Gabby to this dinner, it meant she already knew she wasn’t going to like me.
Mrs. Turner’s disapproving gaze only got worse as she and Gabby drank more wine.
The next time I hung out with his family wasn’t any better. His parents were throwing a barbecue.
“Is Gabby going to be here?” I asked.
“Probably. Our families have been close most of our lives. Our parents are best friends, so there’s a good chance she’ll be there.”
“Oh, great,” I said sarcastically.
“Don’t worry. I’m going to introduce you to everybody. You’ll have plenty of people to talk to,” Ben said.
We walked to a beautiful deck overlooking the backyard down the steps past the patio where Ben’s dad was grilling on the barbecue, and his mom was entertaining guests. There were lots of people drinking, laughing, playing cards, and having a good time.
“Hey, everybody, this is my girlfriend, Rebecca,” Ben said to his family and friends.
I mostly got questioning stares with a couple of half hearted waves here and there. I was the only white person at the party. I nodded, smiled, and chimed in during conversations, but hardly anyone acknowledged me.
“Don’t mind them. They act all rude and militant, but they aren’t that bad. They do the same thing when I bring white guys home. Hi, I’m Simone, Ben’s cousin.”
She was a beautiful girl. She had gorgeous green eyes, a firm, shapely figure, and her thick, wavy mixture of brown and black hair fell past her shoulders.
I shook her hand.
“Ben has told me so much about you. It’s nice to meet you finally,” I said.
“He’s told me a lot about you too. He thinks you’re the one.”
“Did he say that?”
“Yup.”
I couldn’t stop myself from blushing.
Ben smiled when he saw Simone and me laughing and having girl talk.
“The party can start now, y’all. I’m here,” Gabby said.
Everyone stood up and was excited to see her. They perked up and didn’t hesitate to kiss, hug, and talk to her, which made me jealous, because they were so dull with me.
“Hey, Mama Turner,” Gabby greeted.
Mrs. Turner hugged and kissed her like she hadn’t seen her in years.
“Papa, don’t lose too much weight now. I like seeing you fill out your suits,” Gabby said to Ben’s dad.
He grinned and gave her a kiss on the cheek.
“Uncle George, now you know that plate has too much on it,” Gabby said. “You have to watch your sugar.”
He smiled and said, “I know, I know. I need you around to keep me in check.”
“That’s right,” she smiled.
Gabby turned to face his wife, Aunt Valerie. “Aunt Val, save my spot at the spades table. Nobody here is taking us down tonight.”
“I know that’s right, chile,” Aunt Val said, high-fiving her.
Gabby walked up to Ben and me. She gave me the stank eye and kissed Ben on the cheek.
“What’s up, Big Head? Hello, Becky.”
I gave her a weak wave.
“Hello to you too,” Simone said.
“Oh, hey, Simone, I should’ve known you would be sitting next to the only white person at this party,” Gabby said.
“I should’ve known you’d be the only bitchy one to make a negative comment like that.”
“I see you made a grand entrance,” Ben said.
“I make an entrance whenever I go,” Gabby replied. “You know this.”
Once Gabby got settled in with the guests, it was like I didn’t exist. Ben and Simone knew I was uncomfortable, so they stayed by my side the entire time. After that day, Simone and I became best friends. Simone saw I was a good person, while Mrs. Turner and Gabby didn’t.
* * *
Women like Ben’s mom and Gabby saw me as some silly white girl that only wanted to sleep with a black man so I could run back to my girlfriends, giggle, and brag about the experience, but that wasn’t true. I loved him for everything he was. Since dating Ben, I wasn’t the rebellious, lost little girl I was in college anymore, but even though I’d grown a lot when it came to Gabby, I never felt like I measured up.
* * *
“Becky, your book is amazing,” Brooke said. “I don’t know how a publisher hasn’t picked this up yet.”
I was lost in thought, forgetting that I wasn’t alone. I smiled.
“Not to toot my own horn, but me neither. I just hope the publisher I’m meeting today feels the same way.”
* * *
I was at home, sitting up in my bed, typing away on my laptop, pissed off that another publisher had rejected me after my meeting with them today. Brooke came over to cheer me up and keep me company. Simone had stopped by too before she went on another date with her new guy.
Brooke toyed with Simone’s hair, staring at it with her nose scrunched up.
“It’s so thick ... How can anyone manage this?” Brooke asked.
I looked up from my laptop. “Stop playing with her hair,” I told her.
“It’s all right,” Simone said.
I wasn’t sure if she was oblivious to the fact that Brooke was insulting her hair or just didn’t mind it.
Simone stood up and twisted from side to side, admiring her shape in the bedroom mirror.
“Your butt is huge,” Brooke said.
“Trevor can’t keep his hands off it,” Simone said. “He loves my ass.”
Brooke didn’t say anything. She just sat next to me, eyeing Simone and sulking.
Brooke, Simone, and I hung out a lot together, but Brooke often seemed jealous of Simone and acted like a total bitch.
“So, Uncle Curtis keeps stressing me to find my sister,” Simone said. “He thinks once I find that piece of my life that’s missing, everything will turn around. I don’t see anything wrong with my life the way it is.”
“You don’t?” Brooke said. “Maybe instead of telling you to find your sister, he should tell you to find a job.”
“Brooke!” I yelled.
“I haven’t found a career yet that moves me,” Simone said. “I’m still trying to find myself. Besides, if I’m right about Trevor, he’s going to be my Prince Charming. I’ll marry him, have his kids, and be a stay-at-home mom.”
Simone’s cell phone rang. “Hey, handsome. Are you outside? OK, I’m coming out now.” She turned to me and hugged me. “I’ll call you later.”
I worked on my book and watched TV with Brooke as I waited for my own Prince Charming to come home.
Chapter 13
Simone
Vicious Cycle
I felt hurt, abandoned, alone, and emotionally drained by yet another man who just wanted to fuck me because of my race. This time, the inconsiderate dickhead kicked me out of his place early in the morning. A part of it was my fault for using my pretty face, tits, hips, and ass to entice these shallow guys, but sex was all I ever felt I was good at. I’d been so desperate to find true love that I’d mistaken cheap pickup lines from jerks for actual interest in me.
I’d always longed to be loved, but I was constantly getting my ass kicked by it. I was aware that I had serious, deep-rooted abandonment issues that dated back to my childhood, but I wanted to feel that unconditional “you
are my world, I can’t live without you” type of love that Ben and Becky had. Instead, I was on a corner on Broome Street in Manhattan at four a.m. I was in high heels and a short dress, being catcalled and offered “the dick” by every drunk asshole awake. My hair and clothes were disheveled, mascara running, and I looked like a hot mess hailing a cab as I did the walk of shame to my cousin’s place.
“Hey, baby! You wanna have a date with me?” a homeless, toothless white man asked.
I cringed, ignored him, and continued waving my hand to get a cab. The homeless man laughed at me and said, “Stupid bitch.”
Unfortunately ... I felt like I was.
* * *
I rang the doorbell to Ben and Becky’s townhouse. Becky checked to see who was at the door and saw me in tears, my eyes puffy and bloodshot. She opened the door.
“Are you OK? You look like shit.” She stepped aside so I could come in.
“No, I’m not OK. As always, I got fucked over again.”
We walked to the living room, and I plopped down on the couch. Ben was getting ready to go to work. There had been so many times when I waited for him to leave for work before coming over here to do the walk of shame and cry on Becky’s shoulder, but I couldn’t wait this time.
Ben saw me sitting on the couch, shook his head, and hugged me. I guess the look on my hurt face told him now was not the time to lecture me.
“If you need me, even if it’s just to talk, call me. I’m here for you.”
I patted his hand. “Thanks, Ben.”
Becky mouthed, “Thank you,” to him. He gave us both a kiss and headed out.
I was grateful he’d spared me the embarrassment of a lecture on how slutty I was.
“What happened?” Becky asked.
“I always find the fucking losers that use me to cross ‘fucking a black chick’ off their bucket list.”
Becky gently stroked my back as I held my face in my hands and wept. “Why do you think that?”
Defining Moments Page 13