Things Forbidden

by Maryam Diaab

  “Aren’t you a little young to be talking marriage?” Dakari asked before gulping down half a glass of lemonade.

  “And since when have you wanted to settle down with just one woman? Every time you come home, you have a different chick on your arm,” Jabari added. My usual philosophy concerning women was ‘variety is the spice of life.’

  “You’re right, but that was all before I met her.”

  “And who is she?” Dakari asked.

  “The only woman I have known who can make me want to settle down. She is the end-all and be-all.”

  “What’s her name?” Jabari asked, looking at me skeptically.

  I hesitated for a moment trying to remember if I had come across her first name in the hour we were together.

  “Yvette Brooks.”

  “And where did you meet her?” both asked simultaneously.

  “She works at the school were I was doing some observation for class.”

  “Oh, so she’s a first-year teacher? Did she just graduate from TSU?” Jabari asked.

  “No, not exactly. She’s the assistant principal.”

  Dakari and Jabari stared at me for a second, before looking at each other and chuckling. They shook their heads as if they couldn’t believe my stupidity. “So I take it she’s about fifty or sixty then?”

  “Don’t be an asshole,” I said. “She’s twenty-nine, thirty tops.” I wasn’t exactly sure how old she was, but I was sure my guess was not far off.

  “Sounds like she’s better suited for one of us,” Jabari said. Two weeks ago my brothers celebrated their twenty-fifth birthday. Since then they had been tossing around unsolicited advice to anyone who would listen. Their advice, however, still sounded as if it was coming from horny sixteen-year-olds. It seemed as if Morehouse hadn’t done much in raising their level of maturity.

  “I met her first.”

  “You haven’t been on a date with her, so in our opinion she’s free game.” My brothers always spoke for one another. What one said, the other believed. Sometimes I thought they shared one brain.

  “I sent her flowers with a nice little invite, so I think I staked my claim.”

  “What did you put on the card?”

  “Basically, I said that if she wanted to hang out, then she should give me a call.”

  “Did she call you?” Dakari asked knowingly.

  I hesitated. “Not yet, but I think I’ll give it a couple more days.”

  “She’s not going to call. She’s mature and does not want to be bothered by some twenty-one year old who doesn’t know what he wants,” Jabari said.

  “I think she didn’t call because she’s engaged, and she doesn’t want to be forced to cheat on her fiancé.” I felt good enough about myself to assume that I was too much for her to handle.

  “She’s engaged?” they both asked incredulously.

  “Yeah, but so what? I’ve dated a married woman, and she was all over me.”

  “Is this another one of your little rebellious stunts?” Dakari asked, getting up and putting his plate into the dishwasher.

  “Rebellious?” I asked, playing dumb.

  “Oh, don’t act like you don’t know what he’s talking about. You have gone against the Riley grain ever since you hit puberty. First, the locks,” Jabari said, referring to the way I wore my hair immediately after graduating high school. “Next, you decided to go to TSU when every man in our family since grandpa has gone to Morehouse. You are majoring in foreign languages and education instead of law like the rest of us. And now you want to date this engaged woman.”

  If you didn’t know the facts, it did sound as if I lived to be different, but I saw it as more of wanting to be independent of my father and brothers, to be my own man and make my own way.

  My family was steeped in tradition. Riley men went to Morehouse for undergrad, my brothers included, there were no exceptions. You can imagine the uproar I caused at my high-school graduation party when I announced that I had decided against attending Morehouse and majoring in political science and had instead accepted a scholarship to Tennessee State University and would be majoring in modern foreign languages. My father was so upset he even considered cutting me off. “No money, no car, no anything as long as you keep this up,” he declared loudly, right in the middle of my opening my gifts. I understood his anger and wasn’t the least bit surprised by his reaction. Thankfully, it didn’t last very long. My grandparents talked to him and, shortly before I left for Nashville, he came around.

  “You know how Dad is going to react when he hears about this,” Dakari said.

  “According to the two of you, there is nothing to hear about,” I smugly reminded them.

  “Are you doing this just to further piss him off?”

  “This has nothing to do with Dad and everything to do with the fact that I am really interested in this woman.”

  “Whatever you say, little brother, but the last thing I’m going to say is this: Don’t try to bite off more than you can chew.”

  “Never that, Jabari. I’m always in control when it comes to the ladies. Always.”

  Yvette

  8

  “Mr. Riley, before we begin the observation, I think there are some things we should discuss.” As I led Ajani to my office, I sensed his eyes touring my body.

  I slid into my desk chair and folded my hands. Ajani sat facing me, nervously biting his bottom lip. He was the best-looking thing I had ever seen. “First of all, I am very flattered by the flowers,” I said, looking over at the slightly wilted lilies on a small table near the window.

  “I hoped you would like them,” he said, smiling.

  “I do,” I said, letting down my guard a little. I promised myself before work this morning that any contact between Ajani and me and would be kept strictly professional. I even wore a loose turtleneck sweater and slacks so that I wouldn’t appear too sexy. “I like them, but I’m not exactly sure why you sent them.”

  Ajani hesitated for a moment before leaning forward in his chair. “I sent them because I wanted to invite you out sometime.” He was confident; it showed in his voice and demeanor. And he seemed much older than his twenty-one years.

  “Out?” I echoed, raising my recently arched eyebrow.

  “Yes, out. You know, dinner, lunch, a movie or whatever you’re into.” He made the last option, whatever you’re into, sound so enticing that I was tempted to clear off my desk and show him exactly what I was into.

  “Didn’t I mention that I’m engaged?” I asked, waving my engagement ring, newly cleaned and polished, in his face.

  “Ms. Brooks, I’m not trying to take your fiancé’s place. I just thought it would be nice if we hung out a little bit, got to know each other.”

  “Mr. Riley, Ajani, you’re twenty-one and I’m thirty-four. I can’t imagine that we have anything in common.”

  “You would be amazed, Ms. Brooks,” he said, a naughty gleam in his eyes.

  It was amazing how this young man was managing to make me actually consider his offer. I couldn’t remember ever being this attracted to a man, especially after seeing him only twice. “This is very unprofessional,” I said, uncomfortable and excited at the same time. “I’m sure the university has a rule forbidding this. What you’re doing, or, rather, trying to do must be a violation of the student code of conduct.” I dropped that line as a strong hint for him to back off, but the look on his face said he knew I did not have any plans to call the school.

  “Why don’t we do this,” Ajani said, looking directly at me. His eyes gazed deep into my soul; I looked away, feeling my cheeks begin to redden. “Let’s make plans to do something this weekend. We can hang out, do something fun and if you don’t have a good time then I promise I won’t bother you again.”

  This conversation had already gotten way out of hand, and I wanted to choose my words carefully. “And if I say yes and we do go out and I do have a good time, then what? What do you expect to happen then?” I knew I was on very thin ice here
; I was falling into the trap Ajani had set for me. Right now, he was in control and that made him even sexier.

  “I’m open, but at the very least, I would like your friendship.” He seemed genuine, but deep down I knew his motives weren’t strictly platonic.

  It was time I put a stop to this and get back down to business. “Mr. Riley, I really don’t think that would be a good idea.” I stood up, picked up my clipboard and headed to the door. I had some students to meet and Ajani had some observing to do. This conversation was over.

  * * *

  The next morning I walked into my office and there on my desk was an amazing bouquet of red roses. “That man must love you,” Jordan said, as I reached into the bouquet and extracted one rose for her.

  I didn’t need to read the card. I knew who sent them and, just as I had been the week before, I was intrigued despite my misgivings. Refusing to be caught up in thoughts of Ajani, I dialed Terrence’s cellphone number. When the voicemail picked up, I left an urgent message to call me back. I planned to tell him that I wanted to come to Detroit for the weekend so that we could do something romantic, something that would take my mind off things I shouldn’t be thinking about. Something to make me think about Terrence and not other men. I waited by the phone all morning and into the afternoon, but Terrence never called. The time was six-thirty, and my phone hadn’t rung once. I sat at my desk, fearing the worst.

  I dialed Wendy’s cellphone, hoping she would answer. I needed someone to talk me off my ledge; I was ready to jump and knew that if I did, I’d fall right into Ajani’s waiting arms. ”Wendy Web,” she said cheerfully after the second ring.

  “Wendy, I’m having a crisis. I called Terrence this morning and left him an urgent message, but he still hasn’t returned my call.”

  “Just so happens that I saw Mr. Hall and a cute hospital resident down at Southern Fires this very afternoon having a late lunch.”

  “What! You cannot be serious,” I said, feeling as if my world was spinning out of control. Again. Stupid me.

  “I am, but don’t jump to any conclusions just yet; after all, it could have been a business lunch.”

  “Don’t try to make me feel better. His little lunch date is the exact reason he hasn’t called me back,” I said, feeling a sickening sense of deja vu.

  “Well, are you going to say anything to him? I really don’t think you should, because I could have been wrong. I didn’t exactly go up to their table and ask what was going on,” Wendy said, trying to downplay the importance of the lunch she described.

  “No, no, I won’t say anything, but I will remember this next time he’s acting funny or claiming he is too busy to have time for me. How stupid can I be sitting here thinking that he’s in Detroit crying his eyes out when he’s really getting drunk in the middle of the day with residents? You can’t argue with history,” I said, referring to his hospital love affair and the trashy red panties between my couch cushions.

  “Relax, Yvette. As I said before, it was probably nothing.”

  “Yeah, right. Nothing. Let me call you back,” I said, abruptly hanging up. I looked over at the roses. They were beautiful, and I wasn’t married yet. Taking a deep breath, I slowly opened the card that was tucked deep into the roses.

  Will these make you change your mind? 555-1432.

  Ajani

  Spurred by anger, loneliness and distrust, it was as if my fingers were working without direction from my brain. I dialed the first three numbers slowly, paused and then dialed the last four as if my life depended on it. On the fifth ring, just as I was about to hang up, Ajani answered. “Hello?” he said in a whisper.

  “Um, hi, may I speak to Ajani, please?” My voice shook and I sounded more like a nervous fifteen-year-old schoolgirl than the confident thirty-four-year-old I thought I was.

  “This is Ajani. Who is this?” he asked, still whispering. I could hear a lot of noise in the background.

  “This is Yvette. Did I catch you at a bad time? I can call back.” There was no way in the world I was going to call back. This was it; if he hung up the phone, then I was going to shred his number just as I had the first time. If he hung up, God was trying to tell me something.

  “Yvette?” he asked confused. His voice became louder and the background noise had faded away.

  “Um, Yvette Brooks, from Nashville Prep.”

  There was a pause, a laugh and then, “My fault, I was in class,” he said, explaining the earlier background noise. “Calling to thank me for the flowers?”

  “I am, and I wanted to let you know that I’m free on Saturday evening if the offer still stands.” I held my breath and waited. If Terrence could go out and have a good time with someone of the opposite sex, then so could I. It would be completely platonic, just like Terrence’s little lunch date. One little date wouldn’t hurt anything. Right?

  “Yeah, Saturday. My frat is having a party, so I have to do that. You can come with me or we could hang out after,” Ajani suggested.

  “A fraternity party? Are you serious?” I asked, feeling my age again. I would have rather chewed off my right arm than spend a Saturday night at a college fraternity party. Maybe this was God’s way of telling me that I was moving too fast.

  “It’s going to be nice. But if you’re not into that, we can always meet somewhere for drinks after.”

  “Maybe this isn’t a good idea,” I said, nervously switching the receiver from one shoulder to the other.

  “No, no. It’s a great idea. Why don’t you meet me at the party, and we can go somewhere else if you want. That way you can drive your car, and if you’re uncomfortable, you can drive yourself wherever you want to go.”

  I wanted to change my mind. I wanted to plead temporary insanity, hang up the phone and request a new student from TSU to observe me. But something was stopping me; something was preventing me from putting the receiver back on its cradle. It probably had something to do with the vision I had of Terrence feeding strawberries to his cute little resident and the warm, tingly feeling of Ajani’s hand on my back.

  “That sounds okay,” I told him, grabbing a pen and sticky note before I lost my nerve. “What are the directions?” I wrote down the address and said good-bye, feeling as if I had just done something so wrong that it was right. Very right.

  Wendy

  9

  “Wendy, what would you wear if you were going to a party?” Yvette asked.

  “Well, what kind of party are we talking about? If it’s a dinner party, I would suggest something really cute, like a skirt and top. But if it’s a cocktail party then a little black dress.”

  “It’s not exactly either one,” she replied, sounding nervous and unsure of herself—definitely not the Yvette I thought I knew.

  “What kind of party is it exactly?”

  “A college party,” she said in a voice so low I could barely hear her.

  “I know you did not just say a college party!”

  “Yes, I did. It’s a college party,” she said, her voice stronger, more determined.

  “Why in the world would you voluntarily attend a college party?” I was confused. The Yvette I knew, the Detroit Yvette, the thirty-four-year-old Yvette, wouldn’t be caught dead at a college party.

  “I was invited. And I really don’t plan to stay for very long,” she asserted, probably hoping that the explanation would make sense.

  “Invited by whom?”

  “I met a guy,” she quickly—maybe too quickly—answered.

  “What are you talking about? You met a guy? You already have a guy, a doctor and fiancé and his name is Terrence.”

  “Well, aren’t you the one who told me that Terrence was lunching with some other woman when he should have been returning my urgent call?”

  Yvette was right. I had told her that that I had seen Terrence with another woman. The truth is, I hadn’t seen him that day at all. “I was also the one who told you not to jump to any conclusions. I’m not exactly sure what I saw. You didn’t ment
ion it to him, did you?”

  “Of course not, but I’m not going to sit up in Nashville doing nothing while he’s living it up. He has a past, and it’s not that hard to believe that he’s at home doing something he’s not supposed to be doing.”

  “Tell me more about the guy,” I said, smiling to myself. My little plan was working better than I thought.

  “He’s young and cute and we’re just friends—not really even friends yet. Acquaintances would be a better term,” she explained.

  “Yeah, right. I seriously doubt you guys are just acquaintances.” I could barely keep the glee out of my voice. “So, how young is he?”

  “Twenty-one.”

  “You have lost your mind! Why would you go out with a twenty-one-year-old college student when you have a rich, successful doctor waiting at home?”

  “I’m not cheating on Terrence. I’m just having a little fun. I’m doing something unexpected for a change. Let Terrence sit at home and wonder what I’m doing and why I’m not returning his calls.”

  “Is this all because of what I told you the other day?” I was amazed that Yvette was so naïve, so gullible.

  “No, not completely, although hearing that my fiancé was having lunch with another woman is a factor. But since I’ve been in Nashville, I have realized that I am too accommodating of what other people want. It’s about time I started doing things because I want to do them.”

  “And cheating on Terrence is what you want to do?”

  “Didn’t I already tell you that I am not cheating on Terrence? I’m going out with Ajani to have a good time, and that’s all!”

  “How much of a good time?”

  “Dancing, drinks and that’s as far as it’s going to go. He already knows that I’m engaged.” Her tone was becoming defensive, but the more Yvette spoke, the more I realized that this little turn of events may prove to be more beneficial than I could have ever imagined.

  “Since when has an engagement ring stopped a man?” I softened my voice to give her the impression that I was on her side. “So, how fine is he?”