Love Frustration

by RM Johnson

  She’d heard Gary say that a million times to her, the same throaty tone, the same lustful enthusiasm. But it couldn’t be, Faith thought, swallowing hard, trying to suppress what was tunneling up from her stomach, threatening to erupt out of her mouth. It just couldn’t be. And then she called out with what she thought would be a yell, but came out only as a shallow whisper.

  “Gary?”

  The screwing ended. No more up and down. Nothing. Both their bodies just stopped immediately, like they were playing musical chairs or something, and at the sound of Faith’s voice, they just both sat and froze. Then the man’s hands rose from the woman’s behind, to her narrow waist, and moved her to the side.

  Faith’s heart raged within her chest, knowing that in only a second, she’d know for sure if it was truly Gary behind that woman. The second passed, and she was staring at him, dead in Gary’s eyes—well, one of them, because one of those woman’s huge breasts was blocking the other.

  It was crazy that the first thing that came to her mind, the first question she wanted to ask him was, did this mean there’s no ring? Of course there’s no ring, Faith answered for herself. There would be no ring, no wedding, no marriage, no having the child she had killed for this man. There would be nothing at all, and considering all she had done for this motherfucker, all she had endured, she wanted to kill him.

  She wanted to make this known to him, but something had a grip on her vocal chords. Anger had a hold on her entire body, was controlling and pushing her over toward that woman, making her grab her by all that weave she had on top of her head, and yank her off Gary’s dick.

  The woman was caught off guard, lost her balance, and fell hard to the floor. Her thick weave probably acted as a cushion, and saved her from crushing her skull.

  Gary sat there, his penis still erect, the condom glistening a pale tan color, looking like he was auditioning for the part of the new Trojan Man. He appeared unbelievably calm, not surprised or shocked at all, like he fucking knew this was going to happen.

  This made Faith even angrier. It was bad enough to be screwing around on her, to bring the woman into her own house to do it, but to act as though it was no biggie when he finally got caught.

  She was beyond anger, beyond rage, and she headed for him with intentions of gouging his eyes out, and making that bitch who was now climbing off the floor, eat them with a knife and fork.

  But Gary didn’t move, didn’t jump, didn’t throw his arms up like he was afraid he was in harm’s way, but just raised a single hand, and softly said, “Don’t, Faith.”

  She didn’t know why, but she halted, almost afraid to take another step, and it had to be because of the tone he used, devoid of all fear, confident, like he had every right to be with that woman, and Faith was wrong for interrupting.

  “Don’t try to hurt me, and I won’t hurt you,” Gary said, getting up, and walking casually over toward her dining room table where his clothes were neatly folded and draped over one of the chairs.

  Faith couldn’t believe it, but she said nothing, just watched him walk over there and start to get dressed. The woman did the same, not saying a word, not yelling and cursing at Gary for putting her in this position, or not telling her that there was another woman.

  Faith wanted to speak, wanted to ask so many questions like, why would he do this at her house when he knew she was on her way home? And worse, why did he tell her to expect a surprise? Was this the fucking surprise? Did he want to get caught? He had to. But why? Why the hell why! The questions screamed in her head, as she stood there stone-like, seeing that the two of them were now fully clothed and making their way toward the door.

  The woman opened the door, and walked out, but when Gary passed Faith, she asked, softly, a tear from each eye rolling down her face, “Why?”

  Gary looked up as if he hadn’t even noticed she was standing there, and said, “Did you actually think I was going to leave my wife, and my two sons for you?” He said it in such a way that Faith believed that she was indeed a fool to ever have thought that.

  “Just what kind of man would that make me?” He gave her a look that said he was offended that she even wanted him to consider such a ridiculous thing, a look that said it was her fault that they were both standing there that very moment. Faith looked away in shame—not for thinking that they could’ve been together, but because she had been used the way she had been.

  Gary stood there another couple of seconds or so. It appeared to Faith that his glare had softened some, as if he felt the slightest bit of sympathy for her, that he didn’t want this to be happening, but was in some way forced, then as quickly as it had shown itself, it disappeared.

  “And if you have any desire to tell Lottie about this, she and the boys left the city for good, as I’ll be doing in a couple of days. So call if you want, but you won’t reach them. Goodbye, Faith,” he said, then he simply walked out.

  40

  Damn, I thought, sitting parked down the street from Faith’s house. There they were, walking out, not running, not hunched over, dodging objects that were furiously hurled at them. They were just walking out.

  It made me worry what had happened in there, made me wonder that it could’ve been nothing. That when Faith walked in the house, Gary and Carmen were sitting there on the sofa, fully clothed, having a discussion, sipping tea, waiting for Faith’s arrival to tell her just what I had intended for her to see. There could’ve been no other reason why those two didn’t leave with a trail of blood behind them, or their clothes torn to ribbons, or squad cars skidding to a halt in front of Faith’s place. She had a hell of a temper, and I knew that firsthand.

  Carmen jumped in her Honda Civic and sped away without so much as saying a word to Gary. Gary approached his car, and I thought of going over there, asking him just what had happened, but I didn’t want Faith to see me talking to him, so I let him go.

  I got out of my car, stood outside it for a moment, wondering if I should just get back in and leave. Then I closed the door, telling myself I should go in and see what happened. What excuse I would use, I didn’t know, but I’d come all the way over here, I might as well see her.

  As I took cautious steps toward her house, I kept telling myself that if it didn’t happen the way it was supposed to, if by now, Faith knew everything I had planned, it was for the best. Yeah, she’d hate me for life for even setting this awful thing up, but at least she wouldn’t have suffered the pain of catching Gary in such a position. But if it did all go down as planned, then right now she would be devastated. Why did I even do it? Yes, she cheated on me, she used me to entice Gary to marry her, but I could’ve gotten over it. Did I have to go and do something this horrible? I stopped there in front of the steps, trying to decide if I should start up them, or just turn around and drive away, never speak to her again. If it really happened the way that I had planned, then I wouldn’t even know if I could look her in the face, pretend that I had nothing to do with this, while I tried to convince her that everything would be all right.

  I turned around and took a step back toward the car, telling myself, it was for the best that I just leave. But then I heard a faint sound of crying. It had happened. It happened just the way it was supposed to, I was sure, and I thought I couldn’t have felt any worse than I did at that moment. But when I walked in, saw Faith on her knees, rocking back and forth, her hands covering her face, tears spilling out from between her fingers, I knew I had been wrong. I could feel worse.

  41

  It had been more than a week, actually ten days, that Asha had been at her mother’s house. They were sitting down at the kitchen table, after breakfast, drinking tea. Asha’s bag was packed and sitting by the front door.

  She and her mother sat there in silence, their teacups held up to their lips, looking over the rims at each other, knowing that something had to be said. There was something wrong with Asha; something had happened that brought her here. Asha figured her mother knew this much, even though Asha hadn’t s
poken specifically about anything bothering her. Asha’s mother never asked, and Asha appreciated that. While they went shopping, while they cooked dinner, or walked the streets of downtown Indianapolis, Asha’s mother never stopped walking, took her hand, looked deeply into her eyes, and asked, “What’s really wrong? Why are you here?”

  Yeah, she was glad those questions weren’t asked, because even if they were, Asha would’ve had to have lied to her mother, which she didn’t like to do.

  On a couple of occasions, she’d looked at the phone, thought about dialing Angie, asking her if she still felt the same way, if she still wanted nothing to do with her, but Asha had stopped herself. What good would that have done? There was nothing unclear about what Angie said that day in her car. She wanted a normal life, or at least what appeared to be a normal life for her son, and Asha wouldn’t disturb that.

  One night she did call Jayson. Yeah, she’d found him snooping through her stuff. He’d said some awful things to her, and he was kicking her out of his building. Still, she knew they would always be friends, whether he acknowledged that or not. She called him with the intention of telling him that she’d move out of his place, no problem. She could’ve always used a little more closet space, the kitchen could’ve been bigger, and his floors were too thin, but after she was gone, they were still going to be friends. Like it or not, she wasn’t giving up on their friendship.

  But the phone rang, and rang, and then the voice mail finally answered, and Asha was in no mood to leave a message. He hadn’t answered the phone, and in a way, Jayson not being there this one time, when he always seemed to be, made her realize just how alone she was. She had no more friends. Sure, she had acquaintances, people at the spa, but no more real friends, people who she could call and discuss her deepest, most personal problems.

  For the next three days, she spent most of her time up in her room. When she did go downstairs for something to eat, or to walk outside, she would say very little to her mother, just smile at her, letting her know that there was nothing really to worry about. For those next three nights Asha cried, even when she felt she didn’t need to, didn’t want to. She forced herself, needing to get all that pain, that anger, and resentment out, so she could start new. She realized, when she returned to Chicago, she would be getting a new place, experiencing new relationships with women, and starting a new life.

  On the tenth night, her final night in Indiana, Asha didn’t cry. She didn’t have to. Her grieving was done, and although she was still saddened by everything that happened, she knew she could put it all behind her.

  Asha set her teacup down, and continued staring at her mother. Her mother set her cup down as well.

  “What?” her mother said to Asha.

  “You’ve been very good, Mommy.”

  “What you mean, very good?”

  “You know what I mean,” Asha said, smiling. “You never once asked me what was wrong, even when you knew something was.”

  “No, no,” her mother said, shaking her head, waving her hands in the air. “I know nothing. I think my baby come to see me, ’cause she love and want to see her mother, not ’cause something wrong.”

  Asha got up from her chair, walked over behind her mother, and wrapped her arms around her neck, giving her a kiss on the cheek.

  “Aw, Mommy, you know I love and wanted to see you. Of course that’s the main reason I came, but some things have happened that upset me, and I just needed to be somewhere safe, somewhere I felt loved, until I got over it. You understand, Mommy?”

  “I understand,” she said, rubbing her daughter’s arms, then kissing one of her hands.

  Asha sat back down across from her mother. “Mommy, the reason I was upset was because I broke up with Gill,” Asha said, lowering her eyes, feeling somewhat ashamed because she knew how much her mother liked him.

  “Good,” her mother said. “I never like him, anyway.”

  Asha looked up at her mother, smiling. “What do you mean, you never liked him? You loved Gill. That time when we came down, you were all over him, like ‘This my new son-in-law,’” Asha said, mocking her mother, complete with her Asian accent and dialect. “‘He good man, and will take very good care of my Asha, and will give me lots of grandchildren.’”

  “I don’t talk like that,” Asha’s mother said. “You make me sound like man from Karate Kid.”

  “You mean, Mr. Miagi,” Asha laughed. “You do sound like him. But that’s beside the point. I broke up with Gill, Mommy,” her smile quickly leaving her face.

  “Don’t worry. You two get back together,” Asha’s mother said, reaching across the table and patting Asha’s hand.

  “No we won’t. I gave him back his ring and everything. We aren’t going to get married. It’s over for good. I don’t know if I’ll ever get married,” Asha said, lowering her face again, feeling like a failure in her mother’s eyes, considering how successful and loving her marriage with her father was.

  “You will find other man. You beautiful, smart, funny girl. You my daughter. Man be crazy not to want to marry you.”

  “Naw, Mommy,” Asha said, still looking down. She picked up her cup of tea, brought it her lips, and took a slow sip. It was cold and bland, but she drank it anyway while she thought about whether she should tell her mother the real reason why she knew she’d never get married. It would kill her, Asha thought. But then again, would it? She had never had a conversation about gays and lesbians with her mother. She had never heard her mother speak positively about them, but then again, she’d never been sitting near the television with her mother when a story about gays or lesbians aired, and watched her sling her bowl of noodles at the thing, cursing those freaks who were taking over the country. After hearing the news, she would react how she would react, Asha realized, as she lowered her cup to its saucer. Either way, this was her mother, and she should know the truth about her daughter.

  “You will find man as soon as you get back to Chicago,” her mother said.

  “Mommy, that won’t happen,” Asha said, looking up at her now.

  “It will. Why not?”

  “Because I don’t like men, anymore, Mommy.”

  Asha’s mother gave her a knowing smile, nodding her head slightly. “I know what you mean. I feel same way, when me and your father break up for first time, but we get back together and—”

  “No. I think I explained that wrong. It’s not really because I don’t like men, but because … because I like women,” Asha said, and she made a point of not taking her eyes off of her mother’s face, because she wanted to see the reaction she had as she was having it. But her mother’s expression didn’t change one bit, her eyes didn’t widen, her eyebrows didn’t fly up onto her forehead, and Asha knew although that wasn’t happening on the outside, all that was going on just under the surface. Her mother had a way of hiding her emotions when she wanted to. A second later, a shaky smile spread across her mother’s face. “What you say?”

  “I said, I like women.”

  Her mother still wore her calm face, but looked at Asha as though she was trying to find out something more from her than what she was saying.

  “How you know.”

  “Because I’ve been with one. I’ve had a relationship with one, and I loved her. I love her,” Asha said, her voice shaking with emotion when she spoke the last few words.

  “She don’t love you back?” Asha’s mother said, in the gentlest, motherly voice.

  “No. I don’t know,” Asha said, batting her eyes quickly to stop the tears she felt ready to come. “There are a lot of things going on in her life, and I don’t know if I fit or not.”

  Asha’s mother got up from her chair, and walked over toward her daughter. She pulled her up from the chair and took her in her arms.

  “This real reason you come to see me. Not because of Gill, but girl you in love with.”

  Asha didn’t answer, but nodded her head, then lowered it onto her mother’s shoulder, wrapping her arms tight around h
er waist.

  “Mommy, I’m sorry to tell you this about me. I know how you must feel. I didn’t mean to disappoint you, but I—”

  “Asha!” her mother said, taking her daughter by the shoulders, and almost pushing her away from herself, so she could look her directly in the face. “Don’t you say that. You my daughter. I love you. I could never be disappointed by you. Never. You hear me?”

  Asha nodded, tear streaks lining her face.

  “Do you hear me?” Asha’s mother asked again.

  “Yes, Mommy.”

  She pulled her daughter back into an embrace. “I love you, baby. You my best thing in the world. Who you love don’t change you. You still my Asha. I just want to know you happy. Have you talked to her? She know how you feel?”

  “She knows, Mommy,” Asha said, still clinging to her mother, so relieved that her mother responded the way she did, but feeling just a little foolish for expecting her to have acted any other way. “She knows I love her, and I know she loves me too, but she’s afraid of what other people will think.”

  “Then forget her. You will find other woman. You beautiful, smart, funny girl. You my daughter. Other women be crazy not to want to be with you.” Asha’s mother gave her the pep talk again.

  Asha took her head off her mother’s shoulder and looked into her eyes. “That’s okay with you?”

  “Of course, it’s okay with me. But important thing is,” Asha’s mother said, touching one of her daughter’s temples, “is it okay with you?”

  And an hour later, while Asha was in her rented Oldsmobile, headed west, back to Chicago, she understood what her mother had asked her. Regardless of what anyone else thought, including her own mother, in her mind, in her heart, she had to know if she loved who she was. Was she willing to accept herself as that person? Asha thought about that for one more brief moment, not wanting to belabor it too much, not wanting her brain to answer it, but her heart, her soul. After that moment, a confident smile came across her face, because the answer had made itself known to her. That answer was yes.