Love Frustration

by RM Johnson

  “Well, you weren’t saying that every time I took him to the park, played ball with him.”

  “Maybe I should’ve. Maybe I should’ve told you you couldn’t stay here when you needed a place, because I knew my son would see you, and maybe get to know you, maybe become attached. And when he did do just that, maybe I should’ve told him the truth, that no, that’s not your father, instead of going on with what you wanted and allowing him to call you Daddy, allowing him to believe that.”

  A concerned look appeared on Deric’s face. “What are you saying, Angie?”

  Angie lowered her head, trying to find enough courage to tell him what she knew would truly hurt him. “I’m trying to say that you can’t adopt Kyle, and that we can’t get married.”

  “But I’m practically his father. Kyle loves me,” Deric said, an unbelieving look on his face.

  “But I don’t, Deric. I don’t.”

  46

  “Would you like anything else?” the bartender asked Asha. Asha looked down at the drink she had been sipping for the last twenty minutes, then took a slow count of how many she’d already had. Four lemon drop shots, and three Bombay Sapphires with cranberry, or was it four?

  “Uh, no,” Asha said, looking up a little blurry-eyed at the bartender. Her head was a little fuzzy, had been sometime after that third lemon drop, but Asha continued drinking considering she was doing nothing else but sitting there at the bar, those two empty seats forever vacant on either side of her.

  This is some great club, she remembered thinking after she had been there for an hour and a half, and no one approached her. She went to the bathroom a couple of times, not only just for a change of scenery, but also because her bladder demanded it.

  Once inside, she took care of her business, washed her hands, then did what women normally did—stood in front of the mirror, freshened up their makeup, and made small talk.

  There was a short, athletic-looking sista in front of the mirror when Asha walked up to the sink. The woman was raking her fingers through her short haircut, when Asha said, “I like that hairstyle on you. That’s cute. Where do you get it done?”

  The woman didn’t even turn around to give Asha the death stare, but delivered it through the mirror, gawking at Asha, like she had broken some sacred code of the Liquid Cherry club by speaking to her in the middle of straightening her hairdo.

  “Excuse me?” the woman said, raising her eyebrows, and turning down one of the corners of her mouth. “Do I know you?”

  “No,” Asha said, wondering just what crime she had committed.

  “I didn’t think so,” and the woman teased one more hair into place and left.

  “Well, screw you too,” Asha said, paying her no mind, leaning into the mirror, fixing her own hair.

  But that wasn’t half as embarrassing as when at the two-hour mark, Asha was getting fidgety just sitting on that bar stool, and decided something had to happen. She was having a lousy time just sipping on drinks all that night, but there was one thing positive about the club; the music was hittin’. They played a nice mix of hip-hop, jazz fusion, a little alternative rock, and R&B. But Asha couldn’t continue to stay seated when they started on the Chicago house music. It was the funk, soul, disco hybrid of music that originated in Chicago in the early eighties, that Asha and so many other people fell in love with during their years in high school.

  The floor started to get even more crowded than it was, when Asha’s favorite house music song, “Inside Out” came on. She had to dance. She looked to her left, then to her right, and saw that no one was looking as though they were going to approach her. No one looked all that willing to be approached either, so Asha said to hell with it, and walked on to the dance floor herself. Hey, people in Europe did it all the time, she thought, as she closed her eyes, let herself relax, and started to let the music take over her body.

  It was what always happened with house music. It enveloped her, got inside of her, went through her, and demanded that she move. Asha threw her hands up, spun in circles, letting her body be carried on the current of the music that reverberated all around her. She was no longer in that little club, but in her own little world, filled with the soulful melodies she loved, memories of her good times in the past, and good feelings about the future. She would open her eyes, see women jumping around, losing their minds as she was doing, smiling, laughing, enjoying the music, and then she would lower her lids again, let the music steal her away once more.

  When she did that the last time, the song changed. The DJ played something that she hadn’t heard since she was sixteen. It was a weird song that none of her friends liked back then, but that she loved. When Asha heard that song, she started to yelp on that dance floor, threw her head back, spun and jumped even faster. The entire night at the club up to this point had been a bust, but now it was all worth it, Asha thought, until she opened her eyes, and saw that the dance floor had totally emptied. Everyone had walked off, sat back down, or stood along the side, and they were all looking at her as she realized what was going on and slowed her spasmatic routine to a halt. She stood there in the center of the empty floor, felt a warm flash of embarrassment rush over her, and then quickly headed off into the crowd. As she walked, she saw people smirking at her from behind their glasses, heard them whispering from behind cupped hands. Were they smirking at her, talking about her? She didn’t know, but it sure felt like they were.

  Asha sat back down, throwing her elbows up on the bar, and sunk her head between them, trying to hide from the embarrassing incident. That’s when the bartender asked her if she wanted another drink, and Asha said no. But a moment later, the bartender brought her one anyway, set the glass down on a paper napkin in front of her.

  “Hey, but I said—”

  “Girl over there,” the bartender said, pointing down at the fine sister at the other end of the bar. She smiled at Asha, and even though Asha was now in a funky mood, damn if she couldn’t help smiling back at her.

  The girl stood up, and Asha realized she was going to come over. Asha quickly looked away from her, but not before taking a good look. She had the most beautiful body, curves Asha only wished she could’ve been born with. She wore jeans that clung to those shapely hips and thighs, a T-shirt that stuck like she just soaked it with a gallon of water, and her hair was done in that just-stepped-out-of-bed look, pinned up here and there with a million bobby pins, but it looked cute.

  She walked up to Asha, and before she spoke, Asha saw how full and sweet her lips appeared. She had a beauty mark in the center of her right cheek, and she wore dark-framed glasses that were probably only cosmetic, but made her look cute in a studious kind of way.

  “Is this seat taken?” she asked.

  “Un uh,” Asha said. “I mean no. It’s yours.”

  The woman sat down, and Asha figured her to be somewhere between twenty-five and thirty.

  “Thanks for the drink,” Asha said, taking a sip and smiling, to show her appreciation. “But I really shouldn’t be drinking anymore. I’m already making a fool of myself. I’m sure you saw that on the floor, right?”

  The girl started smiling. “Fool? I don’t know what you’re talking about. If that was my song, which it obviously was yours, I would’ve stayed my ass right out there, forgot what everybody else thinks. They can’t dance anyway, that’s why they were looking. They were trying to pick up your moves.” The woman took a sip from the drink she carried over to from where she was sitting, then extended a hand to Asha.

  “My name is Beth.”

  “Oh, I’m sorry,” Asha said, shaking Beth’s hand. “Asha. It’s good to meet you. I was starting to give up on this place.”

  “No, Asha. Don’t give up on it yet, the night is still young.”

  Beth and Asha talked and laughed for another half an hour, and Asha didn’t know if it was the alcohol, or just how beautiful this Beth was, but she couldn’t keep her eyes off of her. She couldn’t stop staring at those sensuous lips, that beauty ma
rk on her smooth, flawless skin, and couldn’t keep her eyes from dropping to the bustline of that tight T-shirt.

  Beth had bought another couple of drinks, and was about to order another round, when Asha said, “No, no, no.” She knew she was already way past her limit. “I want to stay, but I really have to go. I have clients in the morning.”

  “Really. What do you do?”

  “I’m a massage therapist over at Phillipe Cozi.”

  “Oh, really?” Beth said, her eyes brightening.

  “You know where that is?”

  “Yeah, I’m familiar with it. But if I’d known you were working there, I’ve would’ve booked an appointment a long time ago.”

  Asha smiled, turning away, her cheeks growing warm. Asha stood up, lifted her jacket off the bar stool, and started to put it on. “So I guess I should be going.”

  “And what? That’s it, no number, no nothing?” Beth said, smiling at Asha.

  “Oh, yeah, of course,” and as Asha grabbed a pen out of her purse, and jotted down her number on one of the napkins, she couldn’t believe that this was happening. She came out to a bar with intentions of starting a new life, and it looked as though that was exactly what was happening. She felt proud, happy with herself that she wasn’t afraid to come out alone like she had.

  “Here you go,” Asha said, giving Beth the number.

  Beth took it, folded the napkin without looking at it, and slipped it in her jeans pocket.

  “You know I really don’t want this evening to end.”

  “Why, what did you have in mind?” Asha said.

  Beth drank down the last of her drink, set the glass softly down on the bar. “We could leave, and I don’t know, maybe go to my place. Finish our conversation. It was good, don’t you think?

  “It was wonderful conversation,” Asha said, and as much as she felt she wanted to get to know this woman better, she knew she had to get up for work tomorrow. “I really think I better head on home. But give me a call, okay?”

  “Sure,” Beth said, looking disappointed.

  Asha was about to turn to leave, when Beth asked, “Can I get a hug?”

  Asha smiled and opened her arms. Beth moved into her, pressing herself very close to Asha. Asha felt Beth’s warm, soft body pull her in, and at that moment, she felt herself reconsidering Beth’s offer.

  “How did you get here?” Beth whispered softly in her ear.

  “I took a cab,” Asha said, still hugging her, not making any effort to pull away.

  “Well, let me take you home. I came by myself, and I was leaving anyway. What do you say?” Beth asked, holding Asha a little tighter.

  “Okay. Who am I to turn down a ride home from a beautiful woman?”

  Asha sat in the passenger seat of Beth’s ’87 Honda Civic, her eyes closed, her head spinning in dizzying, alcohol-induced circles, a wide smile on her face.

  “How you doin’ over there, girl?” Beth asked, turning down the volume on her radio some.

  “Outside of feeling like my head’s about to detach from my body and float up in the air like a balloon, I’m fine.”

  “Don’t worry. I’ll have you home soon,” Beth said, taking Asha’s hand, giving it a comforting squeeze.

  “There’s no rush. As long as you get me back by sunrise,” Asha joked, opening her eyes and turning to look at Beth. Beth smiled back at Asha, and Asha turned away, looking out her window. It must’ve been the alcohol affecting her vision, she told herself, because nothing outside looked familiar to her. She lifted her head a little more, strained her eyes, focusing harder, and she was right, nothing was familiar. The street that they were quickly moving down was practically deserted, no houses, no buildings, just old, rusting warehouses on one side, an auto junk yard on the other.

  “Hey, where are we going?” Asha said, sitting up, still looking at what was outside the windshield. “This isn’t the way to my house.”

  “Yeah, I know. I’m taking a shortcut,” Beth said, that same smile on her face, that Asha now was starting to question. “It’ll just be—” Beth was about to say, but then the car started to sputter, to jerk, hesitate like it was going to cut off.

  “What’s wrong!” Asha said, really starting to get worried now.

  “I don’t know,” Beth said, staring down at the gauges on the dash. “I don’t know what the hell is going on.” The car slowed a great deal, then came to a halt at the side of the deserted street.

  “What’s going on? What’s happening?” Asha said, whipping her head about, her pulse racing, wishing that she had never gotten in the car with this woman, because something told her now that she might be in serious danger.

  “I don’t know, Asha. But don’t worry,” Beth said, grabbing the key out of the ignition. “Everything is going to go just as planned.”

  “What? What do you mean by that?” Asha said, now becoming even more scared.

  Beth looked up into the rearview mirror, and Asha saw a bright light reflect off that mirror onto Beth’s face. Beth turned to Asha, the smile no longer on her face, but a menacing expression that made her appear like no one Asha had ever seen before.

  “You pretty little, stuck-up bitches think you can fuck over anyone you want, don’t you,” Beth said. And Asha couldn’t believe what this woman had just said to her. Asha pushed herself back against her door, looking at Beth as though she had just been possessed, and was about to start spitting up split pea soup.

  “But you fucked with the wrong dyke this time, bitch,” Beth said.

  “Beth,” Asha gasped, more frightened now than she could ever remember feeling. “What the fuck are you talking about?”

  “Shut up! My fucking name ain’t Beth.” She looked back up into the rearview, and that light became more intense, not only brightening Beth’s face, but illuminating the entire car.

  Asha quickly turned her head around, glanced out the back window to see a car pull up behind them, the doors open, and shadowy figures jump out. Asha went for her door, terrified, not completely understanding what was happening, what was about to happen, but something telling her that if she didn’t get out of that car, she might die that night.

  She grappled for the handle, felt it give, but the door didn’t open. She looked toward the lock, seeing that it was pushed down. She raced to unlock it, but before she could grab it, she felt bolts of pain strike her from every root of her hair.

  Beth had grabbed a fist full of Asha’s hair, was yanking her away from the door. Asha blindly threw punches behind her, trying to hit whatever she could, trying to break out of that car before it was too late.

  “Naw, bitch. You ain’t going nowhere,” Asha heard Beth grunt, as she sunk her other hand into Asha’s hair, pulling her back with both hands now.

  Asha continued to swing wildly, continued to kick at the door, at the window above it, until she felt her fist connect to something soft, but hard underneath. She heard Beth cry out. Asha felt Beth’s grip loosen after being punched in the nose. This was her one opportunity, she knew, and she lunged for the lock, undid it, pushed the door open, and was about to race out of it, when there standing in the way of her escape was Big Les, and three other huge, evil-looking women.

  “So you like getting motherfuckers fired, hunh?” Les said, holding something long and thick, slapping it into the palm of her other hand. “Well, we just gonna have to teach you what happens when you do shit like that.”

  47

  Asha’s phone rang over and over again with no answer. I told myself I shouldn’t have been thinking about her while here at Faith’s, but I couldn’t help it. It was the evening before my marriage, and all I’d been able to do was think about my friend. It was because I was feeling guilty.

  It was bad enough that I felt like an ass for telling Asha she had to get out in the first place, but then, when I finally bumped into her, I’d stood there staring at her like a mindless zombie, searching for words to say that I couldn’t find, and even if I could’ve, I probably couldn’t h
ave spoken them. But I sensed that she wanted to speak to me just as much as I wanted to talk to her. I sensed that she wanted the mess that we’d been in to be over. As a matter of fact, I know that was what she was feeling. I’d known Asha long enough to be able to read it in her eyes.

  I continued to let the phone ring, hoping that she’d pick up before her voice mail did. I had only been at Faith’s house twenty minutes before I realized that I just had to call her and apologize for everything, tell her to forget about moving her stuff. She could stay there forever if she wanted to. I walked into the kitchen, leaving Faith in the living room, and dialed the number. That was five rings ago. The machine picked up, and I was about to leave a message when Faith walked into the room. I looked at Faith sadly and lowered the phone into its cradle.

  Faith looked at me, shaking her head. “She wasn’t home?”

  “Naw,” I said, and she could tell I was disappointed when I said it.

  She walked over to me, rubbing my back. “Don’t worry. You two will clear this up.”

  It was Faith’s idea that I even call her. From the moment I stepped into her house, she’d noticed that there was something wrong with me. She’d kept on asking me to tell her, but I wasn’t crazy. I thought if I even mentioned Asha’s name, she probably would’ve had a fit, said something about the two of us still being together again, so I kept avoiding the question. Then Faith asked me what was wrong for what seemed the hundredth time, and I just told her. I couldn’t believe her reaction.

  “Then you should call her, Jayson. I know how much you care about her, and if it’s bothering you this much, then call her up and resolve the issue right now.”

  What changed? I wanted to ask her, but didn’t. I didn’t care at that point. I was just happy there was a change.

  Faith and I walked back into the living room arm and arm, and lay down on the floor in front of her TV. The room was dark, the only light coming off the tube, and from the low flames in the fireplace. Faith was on her back, me lying over her, looking down in her face. I smiled. It was a goofy, kinda daffy smile, and I not only knew that from the way it felt, but also by the way Faith was looking at me.