This Can't be Life

by Shakara Cannon

  “Think that’s it, D?” she asked before finishing off her glass of water.

  “Bring us the shrimp in lobster sauce, some fried wonton strips, and I’m cool with water.”

  “They went in at 11:00 this morning, so it’s been almost three hours. The longer, the better, though,” she shot out while the waiter was refilling our water glasses.

  “Solomon called the office today. He left a message,” Nichelle mentioned, rubbing her temples.

  “You think he found you through the State Bar?” I asked, alarmed.

  “Probably too much press on this case. Or the damned Bar. I don’t know, Deon. This means he knows where I am. I’m not running again, D. I can’t keep on running with Tyson, uprooting him as soon as he gets comfortable.”

  “Maybe you should quit the firm, Chell, especially since he knows where you are.

  “I know, but I can’t just leave in the middle of a case. I’m tired of running from his ass. I really am, man! I can’t even do what I spent all that damned time going to school for, because this asshole is missing more than a few screws. I didn’t practice law for far too long because of that bastard. I don’t deserve this shit and neither does Ty.”

  We sat in silence for a while. After she demolished her shot of Patron, she sipped her Sprite and smiled.

  “It’s going to be all right, though. I’m not about to worry about that crazy fool right now. Talk to home chick?” she asked.

  “Who? I don’t know who you talking about,” I pretended, knowing damned well who she was talking about.

  “You know I’m talking about Simone, Deon. Don’t play dumb,” she laughed.

  “Naw, I haven’t talked to her. I messed that up, you know that.”

  “Yeah, you did, D. I really liked her. And Ty really, really liked her,” she replied smiling. “That was messed up what that dumb ass guy said about her. You should really find a way to get back in contact with her. You can’t leave things the way they are. I’m sure she thinks you are a major jerk.” The waiter returned and placed our food on the table. We dug in immediately.

  “Yeah, I know she does, but I don’t know what else to do really. I don’t have any other way to get in contact with her aside from leaving messages at her salon, and I’ve left more than I even want to admit. I’m sure she has a lot on her plate right now,” I replied.

  “Yeah, I’m sure she does. But, I know that if you could sit her down and talk to her, she would understand how you felt and why you did what you did.” She ran her hand through her shoulder-length, straight hair. It was colored bronze and looked nice with her skin tone.

  “I don’t know. I really should have just talked to her instead of cutting her off like that. She was already super guarded. I don’t think this is something she could get over.” The conversation was starting to depress me, so I changed the subject. If I hadn’t, Nichelle would just go on and on. “Can you get a sitter tonight? You should come with me to the Playstation party. See how the game turned out. Should be hot.”

  “I’ll call Maria and see if she can come stay the night. And I’ll let you change the subject this time, but I’ll bring her up again. She was good for you. You have to figure out a way to make that right.”

  “Well, I don’t know what else I can do, Chell. Fuck it! She’s just another girl,” I said raising my voice. I wanted this conversation to end immediately.

  “All right, damn! Sorry. I just know that she made you happy. Other than Ty, she’s the only one that I’ve seen make your eyes sparkle. Not to mention, the only girl that I’ve had the pleasure of meeting. Oh, and the only girl that you’ve brought to your home in I don’t know how long. But, if you don’t want to talk about her, that’s fine. I won’t bring her up again.”

  “Just because you don’t see women coming and going doesn’t mean they’re not. So, you going with me tonight or what?” I asked as we both put more food on our plate. Nichelle could eat more than me. Her five foot eleven frame held her 160 pounds well. She was blessed that all the food she ate went to the right places, making her a shapely, southern looking girl, although she was from Jersey.

  “Yeah, I’ll go. Nothing else to do.” Her cell phone rang and she fished for it inside her purse. The jury had reached a verdict in a fraud case she had been working on for over a year. She took a long sip from her drink after returning the phone to her purse.

  “Love ya, babe, gotta go. Cross your fingers and wish me luck.” She kissed me on my forehead, dropped two $20 bills on the table, and walked off before I could say a word. She knew she didn’t have to go in her pocket to pay for anything while she was with me, but that’s Nichelle. She never let anyone tell her what she could and couldn’t do.

  Talise

  Now I know I’m not crazy, but I’ve smelled liquor on Malachi’s breath the last few times he’s come over here. Hell, that was today, yesterday, and the damned day before, and I don’t like that!

  “Babe, you been drinking?” I asked, still standing at the door where he had just kissed me before walking in.

  “Yeah, I had a drink. Why?”

  “You went to get a drink in your scrubs?” I asked, knowing he never wore his scrubs in public. Lately, he only had two destinations: from the hospital to his home and from the hospital to my home. Otherwise, he would change before he left the hospital.

  “Why, Talise? Does it matter? Why are you interrogating me like a damned detective or something? Look, I just got off of work. I can go home if you’re in a bad mood or something,” he replied firmly, making my heart skip a beat.

  “I’m sorry. I just worry about you drinking and driving.” Quickly, I decided to drop it, feeling that it wasn’t worth arguing with him and risking a big blow out over what could be nothing. He works long and hard doing exceptional work, and if he wants to have a drink after work, then hell, he deserves it. But every day? I tried to swiftly push the thought of the liquor on his breath out of my thoughts and out of my head. My man is here, he is a good man, and I love him.

  “You hungry, baby?” I asked, still standing by the door.

  “Yeah, I’m hungry. Really hungry, actually.” Malachi walked over to me, never once taking his eyes off of mine, and pushed me up against the door. My heart was beating rapidly and my breaths were getting shorter and shorter until he finally supplied me with the oxygen I needed by bringing his mouth to mine. The liquor on his breath was the furthest thing from my mind. Our tongues locked and we kissed like the world was ending around us, like nothing else mattered. I opened my eyes to find his focused on me, staring through me, reading my mind. He pushed his hand between the door and my ass, cupped it, and pulled me to him. I could feel the stiffness in his scrubs rubbing me in the right place, waking every nerve in my body. His left hand pressed flat against the door above my head, he ran his right hand gently from my ass up to the arch in my back, moving it softly up and down, driving me crazy. All the while, our tongues spoke to each other in a language that could only be translated from tongue to tongue, from soul mate to soul mate. I pulled off his lab jacket and let it drop to the floor. He then pulled his shirt over his head and dropped it at our feet.

  I rubbed his nipples with my thumbs and nibbled on his bottom lip. He untied the knot in my short, turquoise, silk kimono robe then began pinching my nipples with his thumbs and index finger. I dropped to my knees untying his scrubs on my way down. I reached inside the slit in his boxer briefs and pulled out my special friend. I put him in my mouth and pleased him to the point of ejaculation, but drew back before he was able to release. He guided me to a standing position by pulling me up by my hair, kissing me as soon as my mouth was in reach of his. He then turned me toward the door and bent me over, all the while sliding my thong panties to the side. I placed my hands on the door, palms flat, right before he entered me from behind, making me explode immediately. I knew that I couldn’t lose this – lose him. I was in for the long haul.

  Simone

  I can’t believe that man has not called
me back! What type of shit is this? I hate being the one to make the first move, but Carlton didn’t take my number, so if I wanted to hook up with him, I had to buckle down and call him. I was happy to get his voicemail when I called. I left a message and passed the ball to him, and shit, it has been one whole day and his ass hasn’t called me back yet. If he doesn’t call, I will not be calling his ass again. That is definitely not an option. That man had me jumping when my home phone rang, and I didn’t even leave my home number; that’s not cool at all. I didn’t know what to do with myself in the meantime.

  Both of my friends have boyfriends and treat me like a long lost stepsister. I hate that shit. I would never neglect my friends for a man, and that’s real. I know who will be there when the boyfriends are out running the streets, walking all over them—me. Wish they thought like that! My Blackberry buzzed on my nightstand, scaring the shit out of me.

  “Whaaaat?” I whispered to myself, reaching for the device and scrolling to my unread messages. Damn, Stacey is going to live a long time. I was just thinking about him, I thought, as I replied to his message, asking him what he was going to do today. I was hoping he’d come and rescue me from my boredom. “Call me,” I typed, not feeling like going back and forth e-mailing. My cell rang immediately.

  “Why didn’t you call me at the house, loser?” I asked.

  “Wrong person, ma. This Banks. What up?” I had to catch my breath.

  “Hey, what’s up? Sorry about that.”

  “Who did you think it was?” he asked in his deep voice.

  “Why? You’re very nosy,” I replied, laughing.

  “Naw, I was just wondering who the loser was,” he laughed, making fun of my proper diction.

  “Whatever. What’s going on?” I asked, with a big smile on my face. I couldn’t remove it if I tried.

  “Just got back. ‘Bout to come get you. You dressed?” he asked pointedly.

  “What if I have plans?” I asked.

  “Then say you got plans and quit playing games. I’m about to come get you. Now get dressed or do what you have to do to be ready. I’ll send my driver for you in about an hour, a’ight?” He was used to getting his way. I could already tell.

  “Damn, all right then. I’ll be ready by 11:00. Where are we going?”

  “Why you ask so many questions? I see I’m not the only one nosy,” he said, sounding aggravated.

  “Damn, Carlton, I just want to know what I should put on. Goodness, why do you sound so mean?” I asked annoyed.

  “Just get dressed, Simone. If we go somewhere and you need to change, you can get something while we’re out, a’ight? And I may sound mean, but I’m anything but. You’ll see.”

  “Yeah, we’ll see.”

  “Yeah, you will. Text me your address so I can send it to my driver.”

  “Okay, I will. Bye.”

  “A’ight. One,” was his East Coast parting. I sat my phone on the nightstand, jumped out of my bed, and started doing my rendition of the river dance. Damn, what am I going to put on? I thought to myself when the ring of my home phone temporarily brought me out of my euphoria. This time I looked at my caller ID. No more surprises.

  “Took your ass long enough to call me back,” I joked with Stacey. I was happy to hear his voice. I hadn’t talked to him in more than three days.

  “You know how that damned Sidekick freezes. Hell, it takes an hour for the message to go through anyway, and once it does, the damned thing freezes!” he replied frustrated.

  “Well, hell, jump into this decade any time now, Stace. What are you a teenager? No one uses Sidekicks any more. Shit, I got rid of mine back in ‘99,” I exaggerated. “I’m going to buy you a Blackberry. Goodness!” I laughed as I picked up my Blackberry off of my nightstand and sent Carlton a text with my home address.

  “I already got an iPhone coming. Tyron is sendin’ me one and I don’t have to pay the monthly. Thanks anyway, sweetie,” he said in a singsong voice.

  “Well, I guess,” I stated, laughing.

  “Miss you. What chu doin’ today?”

  “Miss you, too. ‘Bout to go hang out with my new crush. You all right? Tyron still in NY, huh?” I could always tell when Tyron wasn’t in town. Stacey always sounded down when he was gone.

  “Yup, been three weeks and I’m about to lose my damned mind. I talk to him several times a day, but that just isn’t enough. If only he’d let me come visit him, I’d be all right,” he sighed.

  “You need to leave his ass alone, Stace. You deserve more than that. He is in the fucking closet and he is the type that will stay his ass right there in that huge walk-in for the rest of his life,” I repeated for the hundredth time since he started seeing Tyron.

  “It’s far too late for that. I’m in it, girl, all the way. Sometimes, I wish that I wouldn’t have fucked with him because I’m either feelin’ great or feelin’ hurt behind him. But the good outweighs the bad substantially, though.”

  “Yeah, it does now, but what about years down the line? You deserve to have someone that you can love openly, Stace. Not this bullshit that he’s bringing. I’m not going to say anything else about it, though. I love you and I just want you to be happy.” I felt my eyes watering and cursed the tear that spilled onto my cheek. What my friends didn’t understand was that when they hurt, I hurt. That’s why I’m always so skeptical about these men they date; I’m tired of being hurt through them. They’re the only brother and sister I have.

  “I’m all right. I promise. Who’s your new crush? Still haven’t talked to Deon?” He asked, with a little more pep in his voice.

  “Fuck Deon! I don’t ever want to see his damned face,” I said irritated.

  “Whatever, Simone. Play that shit with someone who doesn’t know how you really feel. You should call him back. He left you a zillion messages on the salon voicemail so he must have something to say. But, I digress. Who you going out with then?” Stacey laughed off my annoyance.

  “C. Banks’ driver is on the way to pick me up,” I answered, holding my breath for his response.

  “C. Banks, who? C. Banks, the rapper?” He asked, sounding like he had a nasty taste in his mouth.

  “None other. Met him a few days ago outside Bank of America. Isn’t that a trip? What am I going to put on?” I said, more so to myself than to Stacey.

  “Girl, you gonna get enough of messin’ with them thugs. Put on some jeans and a tee shirt. Don’t get dressed up for that fool. He gon’ think you try’na impress him. Dress down, girl. Trust me. And don’t give him shit!”

  “Boy, you know me better than that. I don’t give out ass.”

  “Shit, you did with Deon.”

  “Nooo, for real, Stace?” I asked facetiously. “I know what I did with Deon and I did that because I wanted to! I hadn’t had sex in months and I was fucking horny! Don’t throw that shit up in my face. That’s messed up!”

  “Damn, relax! Feelin’ guilty? We all know you needed to knock those cobwebs off your coochie! Don’t get all sensitive and shit. Sounds like your ass need some more dick!” Stacey said, laughing at my expense.

  “Whatever!” I laughed. “I need to shower and get dressed. I’ll text you from the car and make sure your shit ain’t frozen, Stace. I might need you.”

  “Okay, I will. Have fun, be safe, and don’t do anything remotely close to what I’d do. That man is fine as hell. Hey, ain’t he on Tyron’s label?” Stacey asked as an afterthought.

  “You know what? If I’m not mistaken, I think that is their label. What a coincidence.”

  “I know, right. Don’t mention Tyron.”

  “You sound real crazy right now. Bye, Stacey,” I replied, slightly pissed off that he felt the need to tell me some stupid shit like that.

  “Sorry, I didn’t mean that. It was stupid. Have fun for me, Monie. I love you,” he replied, trying to restore the peace.

  “Love you, too. And I hope to have enough fun for you, Talise, and me. Talk to you later, pumpkin,” I laughed, feeling t
he love.

  “Later, Pookie Wookie,” we laughed and hung up.

  After showering, I stood inside of my closet wondering what tag I should pop. I really needed to get a life before all my savings went on clothes and shoes. I walked to my window and looked out. It was a pretty clear day out, the sun was shining, and the sky was a pretty blue. I found myself standing again in my closet, having way too much to choose from.

  “Okay, fuck it,” I whispered to myself, grabbing my off-white Stella McCartney skinny jeans off the hanger and sliding them over my hips. I ran with Stacey’s idea of a tee shirt, but decided instead to go with a red, shear, ribbed wife beater from Ron Herman and put a cami of the same color underneath. I accessorized with a silver, four strand, colorful, beaded necklace, and matching bracelet. I pulled out my black patent leather, signature red-soled Christian Louboutin open toe pumps and slid them on my feet. I went to my jewelry box on my dresser and decided on diamond studs and a diamond encrusted thumb ring.

  Looking in my dresser mirror, I brushed my hands through my hair and shook it out, deciding to just let it be. The curls from the day before were still visible and hung loosely around my face. I never wore too much make-up so, in the bathroom, I brushed a little blush over my cheekbones, applied mascara, and spread some Candy Cane Juicy Tube over my full lips.

  When my cell phone rang, I knew that it was the driver letting me know that he was downstairs. The timing was perfect. I walked into my hall closet where I kept my jackets and shelved sweaters that couldn’t be hung, and grabbed a black cashmere, long sleeved sweater to throw over my shoulders in case it got chilly. I removed all the contents from the handbag I had been carrying and dropped them into a black Chloe Satchel that I had yet to break in. I put my bankcard and driver’s license in a black snakeskin snap wallet and headed out the door.

  The drive wasn’t very long, but I was disappointed that Carlton wasn’t in the back of the Mercedes S550 that he had sent for me. Instead, a stately white man with brunette hair greeted me with a warm smile, addressing me as Miss Johnson. After less than 30 minutes, we arrived at the top of Brentwood. We pulled up to a large, white iron gate that opened immediately upon our approach, revealing a beautiful estate with luxury cars sprawled out in front of the entrance.