Kyle walked straight into the maze of people. After stepping over about ten blankets and saying “excuse me” at least a dozen times, Kyle stopped. “Here,” he said. He put the canvas bag down and handed over my gym bag. “This is a great spot,” he said, pulling out his blanket. I looked around and it was the only spot…
“I guess we got lucky,” I said.
“Well, you know, I don’t need luck.” Kyle pointed up to the sky. “I have my friend. If he can part the Red Sea, surely he can get us seats in the park.”
“Oh, no…no pastor jokes. Please.” I laughed.
“Okay, but don’t ask me to help you out if it starts raining out here.” Kyle opened the bottle of juice. “Then you’re going to want to be my friend.” Kyle and I laughed so hard, I almost dropped the glass he handed me.
“You’re so crazy,” I said. Kyle poured juice into my glass and held his up.
“A toast,” he said. “A toast to good times and great friends.”
“Cheers.”
“Looks like they’re getting started.” Kyle looked up at the stage. The members of the band walked onstage and took their places. The bassist walked up to the microphone and looked out at the audience.
“Greetings, good people,” the bass player said in a thick English accent. “Greetings,” he repeated, attempting to catch the attention of a few people who were still talking. “I hope you guys don’t mind if we warm up a bit onstage before we get things started.”
People in the crowd began to cheer. A man sitting next to me and Kyle whistled so loud, I thought my ears were about to pop.
“Great,” said the man on the stage. “I’m glad to see everyone’s in a good mood this fine evening in the Big Apple.” Loud whistling came from around the audience. Kyle bent over and covered my ears.
“I’m especially glad to announce that we have a special couple in the audience here tonight,” he added. “And I’d like to invite that special couple up onstage, because I hear that one of them has something very special they’d like to say.” The band began to play music softly in the background. Everyone looked around the crowd to find the special couple.
“Oh, this is so sweet,” I whispered in Kyle’s ear. “I wonder who it is.”
“Okay, where are you? Don’t be shy,” the bass player said, shielding the last bit of sunlight from his eyes. “Audience, maybe the couple will come up here if you all give them a big round of applause,” he added. Everyone began to clap.
“It sure is taking them a long time,” I said. I looked at Kyle and noticed he’d been dead silent since the man had walked onto the stage. He hadn’t even looked at me. In fact, he looked kind of nervous. Suddenly, it dawned on me. Were we the couple they were waiting on? “Kyle? Are they talking about us?” I asked, almost afraid to hear his answer.
“What?” Kyle replied, turning toward me. “What are you talking about? We’re not a couple. Why would you think that?”
Just then a black man and an Asian woman walked onstage.
“Kim, I have something I need to ask you,” the black man said, taking the microphone from the bass player. The girl’s face was as red as a radish and I could see her hands shaking. The man got down on his knees and the crowd started cheering. Even Kyle and I stood up and began to clap. The man pulled a little blue box (good taste!) from his pocket. “Kim, I wanted to ask you if you would do me the honor of being my wife?” he said, holding the ring up to her. The band stopped playing; the crowd fell silent. It felt as if time had stopped ticking. I could see tears on the woman’s face. And before she even said it, I knew her answer…
“Yes,” she said, pulling the man’s head to her chest. “Yes.” He slid the ring onto her finger, got up on his feet, and kissed her passionately.
“Go ahead, girl,” I heard myself say. I wrapped my arms around my waist and gave myself a big hug. It was nice to see two people in love, even if my own love life was turning out to be so tragic.
“What about me? I need a hug too,” Kyle said, holding out his arms. I giggled and gave him a hug. When I was about to let him go, the band began to play “Ribbon in the Sky” as the couple walked off the stage. “One dance?” Kyle asked, looking at me harmlessly.
“Okay.” I looked up at him. “I’m only doing this because I know you’re a man of the cloth and you can’t try anything freaky,” I said. “Plus, I don’t want you to make it rain on my head.”
As Kyle and I danced, I noticed how perfectly our bodies moved together. I mean, it’s not easy to find a good slow-dancing partner. Usually the guy is either too tall and bony or too short and fat. But I fit perfectly in Kyle’s arms and his chest seemed to curve in all the right places for my body to feel comfort. I closed my eyes and pretended he was somebody I loved, someone who had just proposed to me on the stage at a jazz concert.
“Troy?” Kyle said, interrupting my thoughts.
“Yes?”
“Do you love that guy…the one from the reception?” he whispered in my ear.
“Yes. Yes, I do, Kyle,” I said, wondering why he was asking about Julian.
“Okay.” He stopped moving and his arms fell to his side.
“Why are you asking about Julian, Kyle?” I asked, looking at him.
“Because he’s standing behind you.”
“What?”
“Hi, man,” Kyle said. I turned around so fast I almost knocked Kyle over.
“What? Hey. Oh, my God,” I blurted out. I stuck my hand out to shake Julian’s like I was just meeting him. I couldn’t believe it. There he was standing right there in front of me…me and Kyle…watching us dance. Had he seen that? “Julian…you know Kyle,” I said, trying to calm myself down.
“Yeah, we met before.” Julian looked right through me. His face was tight. I’d never seen him look like that. It was right there smack-dab in between disbelief and rage.
“Yeah, well, funny, we just came out here to hear some music.” I gave a giggle. I wasn’t handling the situation very well. What would Tasha do? I kept thinking, but all I could see was the green dancing in Julian’s eyes. That was it. He was jealous. Julian was jealous because I was with Kyle. But it was…Kyle.
“You want something to drink, brother?” Kyle asked, pulling another glass from his bag.
“No, man. I was just coming over here to say hello to Troy.” Julian looked at me. “I’m here with some people from the hospital,” he said, pointing to a group of people behind us. “I saw you stand up when the couple was onstage, so I figured I’d come over. I didn’t realize you were with someone.”
“Well, I’m not with someone,” I said. I heard the glass Kyle was holding drop. “Well, I am but, like, you know, not really with someone. Just here with Kyle.”
“Yeah. Well, I hope you remember the conversation we had the other night at your apartment,” Julian said just loud enough for Kyle to hear him. “I was hoping we could speak again soon.”
“Really?”
“Yeah.” He glanced over my shoulder at Kyle, who had already sat back down on the blanket. “Well, I better be getting back to my people. It looks like the show’s about to finally get started,” Julian said, looking up at the musicians on the stage.
“Okay,” I said. Julian kissed me on my nose and walked away without saying goodbye to Kyle. Watching his back, all I could think of was all the times it was his blanket I had been sitting on under the Manhattan sky. We’d attended most of the shows together. Julian would bring the blanket and a Scrabble set we never seemed to open. I brought the wine and the food—Riesling, brie, and bread. Julian would sit me down between his legs in the middle of the blanket and feed me like I was a queen, kissing me on my neck between bites of dinner. By the time the show had begun we’d be so wrapped up into each other’s arms, we’d wish the blanket could suddenly grow walls and morph into a little outdoor hut. It’s a good thing that never happened, because then we’d been bumping and grinding in the bark.
Yes, I said to myself, watching him disappear in
to the crowd. Yes, yes, yes. I sat back down on the blanket and turned to Kyle. His face was long and he looked completely disgusted.
“Oh, Kyle. I hope I didn’t make you upset with what I said about being alone,” I said. I grabbed his hand and shook it playfully.
“No, it’s fine. Really, it’s fine,” Kyle replied. He slid his hand away and poured himself another glass of juice.
Smart Girls Rule
Everything was flying by so fast. By the time I finished my final exams and finally came up for air, the summer was in full swing. Nana’s play opened to a standing room–only audience in Harlem. Kyle and Daddy had just purchased two buildings on the block behind the church, and though Kyle pretended to be okay, I could tell my words at the park with Julian still bothered him. Tasha and Lionel’s process went perfectly with the first try and Tasha was three weeks pregnant. There was good news for Tamia, too. Professor Banks was able to reopen the case in Los Angeles and the proceedings were beginning in just three weeks. Tasha and I agreed to meet Tamia in L.A. one week after everything started to give her time to feel her way around.
“Let me get a quarter,” I said, holding my hand out to Tamia at the soda machine in front of the law library. She’d asked me to meet her there so I could help her organize some of her paperwork. Professor Banks was giving her a lot of responsibility and Tamia wanted to make sure everything was perfect before she met with the professor to go over everything the next day.
“No,” Tamia replied, smiling. “Aren’t you supposed to be on the Take Her Man diet or something?”
“It’s a damn soda, Mia.” I snatched her purse and pulled out her wallet.
“Feisty, are we?” Tamia stepped back. “I guess things aren’t going so well in ‘man-stealing land.’”
I rolled my eyes at her and pulled a Coke from the machine.
“How’s that going, anyway?” she asked.
I cracked open the soda. I had really been hoping to avoid the topic with Tamia. The truth was, Julian and I had hung out once during finals, but we’d just met up for a cup of coffee by the hospital. It was great seeing him. He walked into the restaurant carrying a huge bouquet of roses, saying it was for me, for all of the mess he was putting me through. I smiled graciously and accepted the flowers, but the truth was, I hated roses and I’d told Julian that on several occasions. In addition to being a complete cliché, they just seemed to die too quickly, no matter how much you tried to take care of them. But it was a start.
“Hello…” Tamia said, pinching my shoulder.
“Ouch,” I yelped.
“Well, I was trying to get your attention. I asked about Julian and the plan. How is it going?”
“Oh yeah,” I managed. “I don’t know, Tamia. I really don’t know. Everything is just so messed up right now. I mean, it seemed so fun at first, but now I just really miss my man. And I wish this was all over.”
“Oh, poor thing.” Tamia rubbed my shoulder. “Well, what about the next step, Darious J? I actually thought that would work.”
“Well, after all of the drama with Kyle in the park, Tasha and I agreed Darious J would just be overkill. If Julian saw me out with two different men, I’d run the risk of—”
“Hoe Status,” Tamia said, finishing my sentence. It was the dreaded category no woman ever wanted a man she even remotely liked to put her into. The idea was, there were three categories men put women in: 1. Wifey Status—someone he could take home to Mama. 2. Friend Status—someone fun he could kick it with. 3. Hoe Status—the sex freak who may have sexed half the people in the city.
“Damn, Troy. That’s a tough break. So no Mr. ‘Put It Down on Me’?” Tamia said, gyrating down to the ground.
“No Mr. ‘Put It Down on Me.’” I shook my head.
“I bought a new memory card for my digital camera for that one. Well, maybe I can get Tasha to hook me up with him now.”
“Tamia!”
“Well, there’s no need for all of us to suffer. I need some loving, too!” Tamia took a sip of my soda. “So what are you going to do?”
“I don’t know. Everything is changing right now and I can’t explain it, you know?” I said. “And sometimes I wonder if all this is worth it. Since I broke up with Julian, things have been different for me. Everything is changing and now I see all the things that were wrong with me. With how I was acting—Julian was right about some of that stuff he said about me. I put everything on our relationship—the vacations, my parents, wanting to get married, all of it. I was so stuck on being Mrs. Julian James, I couldn’t see straight. And now all of that crap that was important to me before just isn’t anymore. Now I just want him back.”
“Why don’t you just tell Julian how you feel then, Troy? Like what’s been going on with you.”
“Yeah, I know. I want to, but then there’s Kyle.”
“Kyle?” Tamia said. “Your friend Kyle?”
“Yeah, we’ve been really close these past couple of weeks.” I tossed my empty soda can into the garbage and smiled, thinking of the look on Kyle’s face when he was standing in the doorway of the studio.
“That’s cool. So what’s the problem? Are you catching feelings for him or something?”
“No, I’m not catching feelings. I just don’t want to hurt him.”
“Look, Troy. If you and Kyle are friends and you want to be with Julian, Kyle needs to understand that,” Tamia said, walking ahead of me into the library. “That’s it. There ain’t no ifs, ands, or buts about it. You can’t be worried about hurting his feelings. If he’s a real friend, he’ll stick around whether you’re with Julian or not.”
“I know. I just hope he doesn’t take all of this too personally,” I mumbled.
“Troy, just be honest with Kyle about your feelings for him,” Tamia said sincerely. “And be honest with yourself.” When we were halfway across the lobby on our way into the library, Tamia just stopped walking dead in her tracks.
I turned to her, thinking she was playing, but her face was turning red and she was heaving.
“Tamia, you okay?” I asked.
“Just…just a pain,” she struggled.
“Excuse me,” I shouted toward the help desk.
“No, don’t get anyone,” she said. She wiped her forehead. “I’m fine.” She took a deep breath and smiled.
“What?” I was confused.
“That was nothing. I’m fine. I just had a little chest pain.” She walked over to the elevator and pressed the button.
“Don’t play with me,” I said, stepping in front of her. “That was not nothing. Something is wrong with you. Are you still taking those fucking pills?”
“No, I stopped,” Tamia said. I looked at her. “I swear I stopped, T.” I looked harder. “I swear, T. It was nothing. I just had a pain. I was short of breath. Maybe I was working out too hard at the gym this morning. I have been doing chest exercises.”
The elevator came and we stepped inside with a small group of people. I looked at Tamia. I couldn’t not believe what she was saying. If she said she’d stopped taking the pills, she wasn’t lying. But she did scare me.
We got off of the elevator in the basement of the library and headed toward the section where Tamia usually studied. She opened her bag and pulled out pile after pile of papers. I watched her, trying to judge if she was really okay.
“Okay, let’s get started,” she said, taking a seat next to the chair where I was standing. She looked up at me still standing. “Well, sit down, Troy,” she said.
“I will…” I looked around the stacks. “But before I sit in this seat, I need you to promise me one thing.”
“I stopped taking the pills, T,” she said, annoyed.
“No, that’s not it. I just want you to tell me this is not where you had sex with that white boy.”
“Oh, sit down, silly.” Tamia pulled out the chair.
After Tamia and I finished up at the library, we headed out to eat dinner at a cute Indian restaurant on St. Mark’s we’d disco
vered one day after school. Walking into the East Village tuckaway, we were hypnotized by the scent of Indian curry and jasmine incense. We sat at the bar sipping on Indian wine and chatting about our plans for Los Angeles. I was so happy I’d agreed to go away with my girls. I really needed a break from the city and myself.
After eating enough food to feed an entire family on Thanksgiving, Tamia and I went over our plan to reconnect Tasha with her mother in L.A. Tamia had contacted Porsche through the television network two weeks before our trip. Tamia said Porsche was really excited about the new baby and couldn’t wait to see Tasha. She kept Tamia on the phone for over an hour, telling her how much she missed Tasha and wanted to be in her life.
Before they got off the phone, Tamia and Porsche agreed to meet at the hotel where we were staying in West Hollywood. Porsche explained that she’d just won her third daytime Emmy and the media was dying to get anything on her. The idea was to keep it as low-key as possible so Tasha wouldn’t feel any pressure and bolt.
“Sounds great,” I said to Tamia after hearing her plan. I did feel a twinge of guilt for deceiving Tasha, but in the end, as Tamia said, it was for her own good. Tasha had to face her past. But even if I did disagree with the plan, slumped over in my chair, so full I was about to burst, I didn’t have the strength to argue.
Get In Where You Fit In: Female Categories
From the caste system in India to the political parties in the United States, groups make the world go ’round. Whether you’re in or out, up or down, hot or not, one thing’s for sure—you belong to a group. Black or white, Christian or atheist, fat or skinny, you’re surrounded by groups. Perhaps the guiltiest culprits in the grouping game, especially when it comes to the women they date, are men. Like it or not, it’s true. Every man you’ve ever dated put you in a category of some kind. And the worst thing you could do is not know which category you belong to. Read these categories closely and decide which one your guy has you in. It might be a life-changing realization.
Take Her Man Page 19