Kyle actually managed to make prayer look sexy. I probably shouldn’t have been watching him—that had to be some kind of sin…coveting thy preacher or something. But, damn, he looked good in that kind of Denzel meditating in Mo’ Better Blues kind of way. Denzel’s fine ass was sitting there meditating as the sun came up. He looked like an African king. Made me just want to tame him.
“You done watching me?” Kyle asked. He looked up from his Bible and smiled at me behind him in the room. I didn’t realize how obvious I was.
“Sure,” I said, embarrassed. Suddenly I wished the fire alarm in the building would go off or something.
“So are you feeling better?” he asked, changing the subject.
“Yeah, I’m fine.”
“Well, that’s good,” Kyle said, sitting on the couch. “So tell me about your friends. What are they like?”
“Well, Tamia is the smart and silly one.” I sat down next to him. “She’s just full of life. Always wants to get something more. Always working hard. And I guess you could say Tasha is the fiery one. She’s the one who will burn you up if you don’t act right. She’s really strong, but sometimes I don’t think she knows it.”
“They sound like fun,” he said.
“Oh, they’re both a bag of fun. My friends specialize in nonstop excitement.”
“I think that’s good,” Kyle said, “you know, to have such well-rounded friends. Who wants to hang around a bunch of stiff people all day?”
“That’s what I say.” I sat back on the couch. “I mean, Tamia is one of the smartest, most sensible people I know, but she knows how to party.” We both laughed. “You know, it’s really cool, Kyle,” I said, “that you can just hang with me and not be all sanctified and stuff…that you don’t pass judgment on me. I was honestly worried about that when I met you—that you’d judge everything I did.”
“Oh, don’t get confused. I pray for you sinners all the time,” Kyle said jokingly. “No seriously, I respect the fact that you’re a real person. You’re human and so am I. I can’t judge anything you do. I can only pray you make the right decisions. Judgment is something I dislike about a lot of saved people. We get saved and act like we forgot about what it was like beforehand, like we never sinned at all. And that’s just a lie. I would be lying if I said I haven’t had my times. I went to a black college just like you.” I laughed. “Besides, I couldn’t judge you, Troy. You’re not like Mary of Magdalene or anything.”
“How do you know that?” I asked just as there was a knock on the door. I got up assuming it was Tasha.
“I just know. You’re a lot more innocent than you let on.”
“Tasha?” I said, walking toward the door.
I looked through the peephole just as I was about to open the door, and it wasn’t Tasha. Julian and a dozen red roses were staring back at me. “Oh shit,” I said.
“Troy?” Julian and Kyle said at the same time. I looked back at Kyle. What was I going to do?
“Kyle,” I said, “I’ll be right back. I just need a minute.” I cracked the door open and slid out, closing it behind me.
“Hey, baby,” Julian said, opening his arms. “Surprise.”
“Heeeeey,” I said with forced enthusiasm.
“These are for you.” Julian handed me the roses. “I felt so bad after we got off the phone that I decided to make it up to you…and here I am.”
“Yeah…yeah,” I managed. “Here you are. You, you, you.” I playfully nudged him on the shoulder. Suddenly I thought of asking him if we could sit in the hallway—be rustic and spend the night in the hallway…like a really chic camping trip. Then everything would be okay and he wouldn’t have to find out Kyle was in my hotel suite.
“First, I figured I’d wait for you to come back to New York, but then I thought, where’s your sense of romance? This is the woman you love. She needs your support. Show her you love her,” Julian said, taking me into his arms again. “You see, I love you and I want to be with you!” he hollered very loudly.
“Now? Like right now?” I asked. “Like here?”
“Of course, T. I’m here to prove my love to you and ask you to be with—”
The door to the suite opened and Kyle poked his head out.
“You okay?” he asked, looking at Julian and me.
“Kyle?” Julian looked at him, confused, and then looked at me. “Kyle? Your father’s friend?”
“Hey, man,” Kyle said, shaking Julian’s hand.
“Yeah. Kyle, can you go inside while I talk to Julian?” I added, sounding like a customer service representative. “I’ll be right in.” Kyle’s head disappeared and the door closed again.
“What the hell is he doing here?” Julian asked, pointing at the door. “I thought your friend was in the hospital.”
“She is.”
“I come all the way here to see you and you have another man in your hotel? When your friend is supposedly in the fucking hospital? I can’t believe this shit.” I could see a little vein popping out on Julian’s forehead.
“Are you with that man?” Julian asked. “Just tell me now and I’ll leave, Troy. I’ll go away and not come back if you’re with him.”
“No, baby.”
“Well, if you’re not with him, tell him to leave. Tell him to go.” Julian stepped away and took back his flowers. “Tell him to go and I’ll stay.”
I pressed my palm against the door and looked at Julian. Everything I ever wanted was in front of me. The man I loved was standing in front of my hotel room holding a bouquet of flowers. I couldn’t turn him down, no matter what was waiting behind that door. I couldn’t lose Julian again.
“Wait out here,” I said, turning the doorknob. “I’ll be right back.”
Kyle was sitting in the suite exactly where I’d left him. His hands were folded on his lap and he had his eyes closed.
“Mr. Wonderful is back to fix everything,” he said without opening his eyes. I sat down on the couch beside him and placed my hand on top of his. “You want me to leave?” He opened his eyes and looked at me.
I nodded my head yes.
“I’m sorry, Kyle. But he came a long way to see me,” I said gently.
“Yeah, he did. He came a long way.” Kyle got up from the couch. “You know what? This is exactly—” He stopped and picked up his Bible. “Never mind,” he went on. “I won’t let you do that to me. I won’t.” He slipped the Bible into his travel bag. “Goodbye, Troy,” he said, walking out. “Goodbye.”
Step Six: Let Your Feelings Be Known
That night, in my hotel room, just miles away from the Hollywood sign, Julian made love to me like I was a movie star. He made a line down my spine with his tongue and ran his fingers up and down my thighs. He must’ve whispered “I love you” in my ear a thousand times. As we moved together beneath the sheets, I could feel his heart beating against mine and I knew he meant every word he said. I struggled to hold my breath to experience every sensation that ran through my body as his chest rubbed up against my back. I had to feel him all around me, inside of me, in order to believe that he was really there and that it wasn’t just one of my dreams. I forgot about Tamia, I forgot about Tasha. It was just about me and my man.
I closed my eyes and imagined that we were making love in our own home just days after our wedding. Julian’s wedding band was smiling on his finger between us and everything, everything was perfect. Finally, he was mine…again.
By the time morning came at 6, I was lying peacefully in his arms, trying to figure out if I should jump out of bed and run through the streets of L.A. screaming, “He’s mine,” or lie still in Julian’s arms and pray the moment would never end. Somewhere between trying to decide what outfit I would wear to run down the street and coming up with something to say to the police when they arrested my ass, I remembered something—the Take Her Man Plan.
I ran down the “Six Steps to Success” in my head and realized that while I wasn’t even thinking about it, after the disaster with Kyle i
n the park, I had completed just about every step. My reaction to Tamia’s brush with death and Tasha’s disappearance, while awful and totally unplanned by me, was step five, “Damsel in Distress.” Just as Tasha had said he would, Julian responded by coming to my rescue and I, as the step says to, “fell into his arms.”
I turned to face Julian in the bed. Watching him sleep, his mouth open just wide enough for me to slip a nickel inside, I couldn’t believe Tasha’s little plan had worked. That day, sitting across from Julian at the sushi bar as he’d broken my heart and given back the key to my apartment, I’d thought all hope was gone. I’d thought it was over, just as Julian said, and I had been ready to give up. But the Take Her Man Plan had worked and here he was, the man of my dreams, sleeping soundly in front of me, just hours after he’d confessed his love.
There was only one thing left to do: step six, “Let Your Feelings Be Known.”
“Julian,” I whispered tenderly. “Are you asleep?”
“Not now,” he mumbled, shaking his head sleepily. “I just woke up when you called my name.” He opened his eyes, squinting from the sunlight behind me and smiled. “You okay?” he asked.
“Yeah, I’m fine,” I said. “I was just up thinking. That’s all.”
“Okay. About what?”
“Julian, what’s going to happen when we get back to New York?”
“What do you mean?” Julian slid his arms around me beneath the sheets.
“I mean, what are we going to do…about us…about everything you said last night? Do you remember everything you said?” I asked.
“Of course, baby,” Julian said, scratching his scalp—he always did that to wake himself up. “I told you I love you and I want to be with you.”
“Yeah.”
“Oh, is that it, Troy?” Julian looked at me. “Are you worried about us being together?” He sat up in the bed. “Because there’s no reason for you to be nervous about anything. I know what I want and that’s you. Okay?”
“Yes, that’s fine,” I said. “I just wanted to let you know how I feel, too—how I feel about you.”
“That’s great, Troy,” Julian said, getting out of the bed. “And I really want to hear it, but first I need to go to the bathroom.” He tiptoed out of the room.
“Fine,” I said. “I’ll tell you when you get back.”
I turned back around to face the window. The sun looked like somebody had tied it to the side of the building—like I could reach out of the window and touch it. It was so big and beautiful. I began to think of Kyle and wondered how he was doing. I knew I’d hurt him really bad, but I had to put Julian first. While my feelings for Kyle were growing stronger, Kyle was my friend, just as I’d told him time and time again, and I had to separate the two.
Just as I was about to close my eyes and say a little prayer that Kyle would forgive me for what I’d done, Julian’s pager went off. The vibration rattled so hard, it fell off the nightstand and cracked open. I bent down from the bed to pick it up and put it back. I held it to make sure it wasn’t broken and put it on the nightstand.
What the hell is he doing in there? I thought, laying back down in the bed. Please don’t let him stink up the whole suite, I said to myself and closed my eyes. I yawned and opened my eyes again to find the pager staring at me from the nightstand. Before I could even think about closing the screen, the word Miata found my eyes and the pager ended up in my hands.
Reading the page wasn’t an option, I thought, listening to hear if Julian was still in the bathroom. I had everything on the line with Julian and before I poured my heart out to him, I had to find out what reason on God’s good earth Miata would have for sending Julian a text message. Therefore, without hesitation, I read:
Got your message about going out to L.A. to see your old classmate in the hospital. I hope he’s ok and that the accident wasn’t too bad. Call me when you get settled.
Love, Miata
My eyes closed tight with horror. It didn’t make sense. Why would Julian lie to Miata about coming to L.A. to see me, if everything he was telling me was the truth? I opened my eyes and read the message again, for one second, praying I’d read it wrong or that it had been sent from someone else. Any plausible reason for what I was seeing escaped me. First, I thought to run into the bathroom to confront Julian, but if he had already been lying to me, there was nothing to stop him from doing it again. I needed to hear the truth from the horse’s mouth and come to my own conclusion.
I picked up Julian’s phone and scrolled down to her name.
“Baby,” Miata said, answering the phone. “I just sent you a message.”
“This isn’t baby,” I said.
“Troy?”
“Yes.” I looked over my shoulder to see that Julian was still locked up in the bathroom. I didn’t want him to see me, but really I didn’t care anymore. I had nothing else to lose.
“Why do you have Julian’s phone?” Miata sounded as upset and confused as I was.
“Miata,” I said, “I’m beyond all that stuff with you now. Julian’s here in L.A. with me and I saw your message, so I just wanted to call and see what was up.”
“What’s up?” Miata’s voice went weak. “Julian and I are supposed to be together now. He told me he wasn’t seeing you anymore.”
“Miata, please. Why should I believe anything you say?”
“Well, if you don’t want to believe me now, perhaps you’ll believe me in nine months.”
“What?” I asked with the phone slipping from my ear.
“I’m pregnant and Julian’s the father,” I heard as the phone fell to the floor.
I’m not a psychologist. And short of struggling to understand my crazy family, I have little experience with the human mind. But I bet there’s some kind of psychological term for what happens when something really bad happens to you and your mind just separates itself from your body out of total rage and disgust for the situation you’ve found yourself in.
My hand flew across Julian’s face like greased lightning when I found him sitting on the toilet in the bathroom. I hadn’t hit anyone in my entire life, but I knew the slap had to hurt because I could see the red imprint of my hand on his face. His reading glasses went flying across the bathroom into the tub and the magazine he was reading fell to the floor.
“What the fuck is that bitch talking about?” I asked, hollering so loud I nearly startled myself.
“What did you slap me for?” Julian jumped up from the toilet and bent down to pull up his pants.
“No, fuck that,” I said, jerking his arm so he couldn’t get the pants up. “You’re going to answer my question.”
“What question? I don’t even know what you’re talking about.”
“I spoke to Miata, Julian.” I mashed him in the forehead. “Apparently, I’m your old schoolmate and that’s why you’re in Los Angeles.”
“Oh, that’s it.” Julian smiled. “I can explain that.”
“Well, I guess you better start, motherfucker.” I put my hands on my hips. “Yeah, I guess you better start explaining right where you got your black ass on the plane.”
“Look, Troy, the bitch is crazy. That’s all I’m going to say.” Julian pulled up his pants and shrugged his shoulders. “I’m not going to explain my actions,” he added. “I broke up with Miata because she’s crazy. I didn’t want to tell her I was coming here to be with you because it’s none of her business. Just like what I do with her is none of your business.”
“Julian, don’t make me slap your ass again.” I could feel myself beginning to cry. I fought so hard to hold back the tears, but when Julian turned to walk out of the bathroom, I couldn’t stop them. I’d played his fool for so long and I couldn’t believe he couldn’t even look me in the face. “None of my business?” I said, watching him walk down the hallway. “Like the baby is none of my business?” Julian stopped walking and turned back around.
“What? How do you know that?” he said, rushing toward me.
“You got her pregnant,” I screamed. Hearing the words come from my mouth suddenly made them real. When I’d heard them on the phone I had been angry and I’d wanted Julian to explain. I’d wanted to yell at him, fight, scream, and cry. But when I’d realized exactly what was going on by hearing myself say that Julian had gotten another woman pregnant, I was done. I wanted him to leave and never, ever come back into my life.
Not only did this man I loved and had taken care of while he was going through one of the hardest times in his career leave me for another woman, but then he had the audacity to think I was fool enough to take him back. And worse—he got the bitch pregnant! I wanted his ass out. Who did he think I was? Shit, who did I think I was that I actually thought I had to fight to get and keep this piece of a man?
“Get the fuck out, Julian,” I said, walking past him into the bedroom. “Get all of your shit and get the fuck out of my life.” I started throwing his things at him and slung the Louis Vuitton overnight bag I had bought him at his face.
“Troy, what are you doing?” Julian asked, standing behind me in the doorway.
“I’m moving on.”
“Come on, baby. I can explain,” Julian said. “She’s crazy.”
“It’s funny how we’re always the crazy ones. It’s always us, right? Oh, now you want to explain? You just said you weren’t going to explain anything and now you want to explain? Make up your mind, Julian.” I threw his shoes at him. “You know, I don’t know why I’m so surprised that you can’t make up your mind. You can’t seem to decide what woman you want to be with and can’t decide why you’re in L.A.,” I handed him his wallet. “I guess you should’ve worn a fucking condom.”
“Troy, you’re acting completely irrational. You’re not being yourself,” Julian said, following me down the hallway with his bag in one hand and his shoes in the other. “I think we need to sit down and discuss this so you can calm down. I don’t want you to regret what you’re doing.”
Take Her Man Page 26