by Nikki Rashan
My hands began to shake. At twelve thirty in the afternoon on a Monday? Kyla was supposed to be at work.
How do you know?
Because I’m outside and Kyla’s car is here.
Go inside! I yelled at Deidra by text. Why was she just sitting there?
Can’t. Gave Angie the keys.
Can’t you get in?
I could ring the buzzer. Don’t need to. I know what’s going on in there. Just thought you should know.
I didn’t respond. My head began to pound, and my body perspired. How could Kyla betray me like that already? While I had waited for her to knock on our bedroom door last night, she had gone knocking on Angie’s today.
I’m telling you, you need to let Kyla go. If you decide to keep her, you better keep Angie away from her.
Still I didn’t reply.
I’m leaving. Angie can keep the rest of my shit. I don’t give a fuck anymore. She’ll get hers.
My teeth clenched, and I squeezed my phone in my sweaty hands. I calmed myself before I returned to finish my appointment with Mrs. Johnson. I smiled, but she sensed my stress. I guessed my hands weren’t as delicate as they should have been when I drew her blood.
“What’s wrong, baby?”
“Nothing. I’m great, Mrs. Johnson,” I lied.
“Don’t lie to me, young lady,” she scolded, her tiny voice firm, but weak in volume.
“Just a little tension at home, that’s all,” I told her.
“Mmm-hmm, I knew it. What did he do?”
I laughed genuinely. “Not a he, Mrs. Johnson. She,” I said, correcting her.
“Who? Your momma? No wonder you’re so sweet. Your momma lives with you?” She gave me a gum-filled smile.
“No, no. My mom is in Dallas with my dad.”
“Well, who then?” Her wrinkled skin crinkled further, like balled-up paper.
“My partner. My girlfriend. We’re going through a rough moment.”
Mrs. Johnson grew silent. Her eyes, which had astigmatism, scrutinized mine.
Finally, she said, “I never would have thought. Well, hot damn. Honey, I could have told you dealing with women is emotional. Child, I had one after my Herbert cheated on me back in the sixties. That was a free-spirited, free-loving time, you see.” She coughed, but her eyes twinkled. “Yes, yes. I met Miss Virginia Grace, let’s see, when I was thirty-six. I loved some Virginia Grace, I tell you.”
As furious and flustered as I was, I was graciously receptive to Mrs. Johnson’s shocking trip down memory lane. Just the distraction I needed to squelch the impulse to go toss bricks through Kyla’s car windows and Angie’s apartment windows. So unladylike, but being cheated on could bring out the worst in anyone.
“I can tell you some stories, honey, believe me,” Mrs. Johnson continued. “But let me tell you this. I fell so in love with Miss Virginia Grace that I packed my bags and kids and left my cheating husband behind. She became Auntie Grace to the kids, and my best friend to anyone who asked. We lived the perfect secret life, and I was never happier. I would have given anything for her. I did.” Mrs. Johnson’s shaky hand reached for a tissue to dab her eyes.
“About five years later Virginia Grace told me it was too much for her. Being locked down in a relationship. It was too much responsibility.” She shook her head. “Said it was a responsibility like a job, and to me, it was nothing but pleasure. Like a five-year vacation at my favorite beach. I couldn’t wait to wake up to her every morning. She was like a beautiful sunrise.” Mrs. Johnson coughed.
“She told me she needed to be free, and next thing I knew, she was gone.” Mrs. Johnson’s glossy eyes looked into mine. “People say when you love someone, never let them go. I say there’s no choice but to let them go if that’s what they want. What we want with someone might not be what they want. Don’t fight it. Don’t force it. Let them follow what they need to do. It was hard, honey. It was hard. My heart hurt worse than when I found out about all the women my Herbert had cheated on me with. But I let her go. I had to. I’d rather she leave and be happy than stay with me and the kids and be miserable. You understand? Sometimes letting go is the greatest gesture of love you can do.”
I didn’t know how Mrs. Johnson knew her story related to mine, but I supposed in the general terms of relationships she spoke the truth. We couldn’t force someone to be with us if he or she didn’t want to be there.
“Yes, I understand. Thank you, Mrs. Johnson.”
“Now, you go on and handle your business. I’ll be just fine.”
I smiled, grateful, and began to pack my bag.
“What happened to Mr. Herbert?” I asked before I left.
“Oh, honey, he was right there waiting for me when me and the kids came back. He was real, real sorry and never cheated on me again. And I was okay because I had had a taste of real good love. The kind that no one can take away, even when it’s gone. We settled back together, and even though I never loved him the way I loved Miss Virginia Grace, we made it work till he died.”
“And Virginia Grace?”
“She went on to have many lovers. That was just her style. I didn’t love her any less because of it. You hear me?”
I nodded. “See you next time, Mrs. Johnson.”
“Bye, baby.”
When I got to my truck, I wasn’t sure what to do. I needed to get back to the office, but I wasn’t sure how I’d be able to focus with the knowledge that Kyla was inside Angie’s apartment, likely doing what came best between them.
While I sat in the leather interior of my truck, I deliberated my next move and tried not to compare myself to Angie and question why Kyla might have chosen her over me. I hated whiny-ass women who cried over a lost love, sobbing, “What does she have that I don’t?” I did it anyway.
I considered myself an attractive person and Angie as well, though she had an obvious tomboyish edge. Aside from aesthetics, I noted that we were equally successful business owners. In my opinion, neither of us held the upper hand in either of those areas. What concerned me was intimacy. Out of all the women Kyla had been with, I knew Angie was her best lover. In our early, casual “getting to know one another” conversations, we asked each other “Don’t ask if you don’t really want to know the answer” questions. In those conversations we confessed secrets, one of which was who our best lover had been. I fully expected Kyla to tell me I was her best, but she admitted that Angie was her favorite, and it was a fact I had never forgotten. Never had I felt inferior to Angie sexually; Kyla had seemingly been pleased with our sex life. Nevertheless, I wondered if Angie could take her to heights of ecstasy that I could not. If that was the sole reason for her resurrected desires for Angie, then in my estimation the whole thing was pathetic.
I put my truck in drive and pulled away from the curb. Where to go next quickly turned into a no-brainer, as I happened to be only fifteen minutes from Angie’s place. I turned in that direction. What I would do upon arrival, I wasn’t sure. Call Kyla to let her know I was waiting outside? Remain quiet and catch her off guard? Ring the doorbell until they were forced to buzz me inside the building?
After I rounded the corner of Angie’s block, I learned none of those scenarios would play out. From a distance I witnessed Kyla exiting Angie’s building, red-faced, puffy-eyed, and disheveled. Her eyebrows were wrinkled into a helpless frown, her eyes were wet with running tears, and she’d sucked her bottom lip inward to conceal its trembling. She darted to her car, sped off, and left me stalled in the middle of the street, hurt and angry, certain that she and Angie had crossed the irreversible friendship line that would change my Kyla’s future forever.
Nine
Kyla
“I need to come see you,” I begged.
“Honey, what is wrong with you?”
David was worried. I was sure it was my near shriek of panic that had alarmed him.
“I just did something I shouldn’t have.”
“Then why did you do it?” he asked calmly, logically.
“B
ecause at the time I didn’t know if I’d regret it.”
“And now you do?”
I sighed. “I’m not sure. I’ll tell you the details when I get there.” I was afraid to hear his berating response if I told him on the phone, while driving, that I had just had sex with Angie. I just might crash.
David echoed my sigh. “Girl, I don’t even know what you’re talking about, but get your confused ass over here.”
“En route.” I hung up.
Even though I was in my late thirties, I had no idea what I would do without David. He had been there at my side while I uncovered and revealed my true self as a lesbian after my affair with Stephanie. He had been with me, usually wearing a frown and scolding me, while I explored my sexual freedom after he and I moved to Atlanta. He had been my and Asia’s greatest cheerleader throughout our relationship. I felt just as bad sharing what I had done with him as I would if I were confessing my transgressions to Asia. I knew he’d be just as disappointed. But I hoped he could at least help me decide what to do going forward.
My phone rang. I picked it up and saw Asia’s name. I was shocked. I didn’t expect to hear from her during the workday. I didn’t answer. I didn’t want to lie to her, but I wasn’t prepared to tell the truth yet. I let the call go to voice mail. A moment later I checked for the voice-mail message alert. She hadn’t left a message. I was partially disappointed. I would have been able to gauge her mood if I could have heard her voice.
I reached David’s townhome in no time. At least the ride seemed quick. In my mind I was still on Angie’s couch, my head against the pillow, while she gratified me in the ways I remembered. I had no idea how I drove without incident. I couldn’t remember exiting the highway, pausing at stoplights and stop signs, or turning the steering wheel to make right and left turns. I became present only the moment I parked and took the key out of the ignition. Quickly, I buzzed David’s unit number and headed inside. From the corner of my eye, just as the glass door closed behind me, I saw a flash of silver, the same shade as Asia’s truck. I didn’t turn around, but I swore the truck was Asia’s. But then again, how many silver trucks were there?
“Get in here, girl. You look a mess,” David commanded when I rounded the corner toward his unit. He closed the door behind us.
“What’s going on?” His voice was urgent; his eyes concerned.
David hadn’t changed over the years. He was still naturally forthright in conversation and had a keen ability to honor others with the truth in a tactful but impactful manner.
His figure had remained slim and he was still really fit, even at the age of forty-four, though his hair apparently counted his age in dog years. His hair had receded and was now a mere strip that circled his otherwise bald head from one ear to the other. Both I and Marlon, his partner, had recommended on numerous occasions that David go ahead and shave the remaining strands sprouting from his scalp, but David had refused adamantly, intent on holding on to the lonely patches of hair. I imagined it was difficult that Marlon, who had nine years on David, still had most of his salt-and-pepper hair.
We moved to the kitchen, where he was packing his dinner for his later shift at work. I leaned against the counter.
“I just did the unforgivable,” I told him.
David squealed. There was only one definition for “the unforgivable.”
“What in the hell have you gone and done, girl? With who at this hour? Thought all your afternoon indiscretions were in the past?”
I lowered my head, ashamed to tell him the identity of my accomplice. “Angie.”
He stopped spreading mayo across his wheat bread. “Hot diggity damn, have you lost your mind or what?”
I started to cry again. “I don’t know. Maybe,” I whimpered.
“What were you thinking? Angie? Even if it wasn’t Angie, what are you thinking, stepping out on Asia like this?” He rubbed his scalp, which he did often.
“I don’t know. I don’t know. I don’t know, David. This has all happened really fast.”
“You’ve always moved fast with women, but, honey, you needed to put the brakes on this. How did this happen?”
“Angie and Deidra broke up a few weeks ago.”
“So sad for them. And?” he questioned, his tone warning me I had better have a stronger explanation.
“As a friend, I tried to be there for her.”
“Okay . . .”
“Right away she started hinting about us being together. Yesterday she told me she’s always wished we could be together.”
“All right . . .” He continued to listen to see how I would justify my actions.
“I fell for it. I fell for it hard and quick, and I started contemplating the idea of what if. What if it had been Angie, and not Asia?”
“What if what, honey? Don’t be playing them mind tricks on yourself. If it was supposed to be Angie, it would have been Angie. Ain’t no walking down memory lane, trying to change the past. Now, what have you gone and done?”
“I just left her house. . . .”
David’s eyes stared incredulously at me. “You did the do with Angie. Your ex. Your friend. A woman you’ve been bringing around Asia for how many years? That’s wrong, Kyla. It’s wrong any way you might try to make it right. You can’t tell me this is just about her and Deidra breaking up, either. What’s the real problem?”
“I’m bored,” I confessed. “It’s not an excuse, I know. It’s just that me and Asia seem to have hit a plateau. Every day is just average. Although nothing bad happens, nothing exciting happens anymore, either.”
“Well, you just went and shook up both of those now, haven’t you? This is not your average day, and believe me, Asia will be excited about this, but not the right kind of excited.”
“I don’t know what to do,” I admitted.
“This is like déjà vu, honey child. Back in the day, you were crying about Stephanie and what to do about Jeff.” David closed his eyes and shook his head. “Only, then I supported your confused cheating ass and told you to follow your heart. I can’t say that this time, baby. I think you messed up, and I think you messed up bad. Asia has never come off as the kind of woman who will forgive and let something like this slide.”
“No, she’s not,” I agreed. “I don’t know how I let this happen.”
He put his palm in my face and halted my words. “If you say you don’t know one more time . . . Yes, you do know. You went to Angie’s house today and let it happen. Nobody made you. You’re too grown not to take responsibility for your actions. The question is, now what?”
I was silent.
“Better figure it out,” David continued. “Want my opinion?”
“Of course I do,” I answered quickly.
“You got to tell her. This kind of secret will eat you up inside, and Asia’s too perceptive not to figure it out on her own. If you don’t tell her, best believe it’ll come out at some time. What’s done in the dark comes to light, baby girl.”
I was uneasy and uncomfortable. I knew that telling Asia was the right thing to do and the only way to handle what I had gotten myself into. How simple I would look in her eyes to have so easily failed at honoring the trust she had placed me. Maybe I had never been worthy of that trust.
“I’ll tell her. Only God knows how she’ll respond.”
“Be prepared for it all, honey. She’s a classy woman, so I doubt this will result in a nine-one-one call, but you never know how people will respond in a situation ’til it happens. Get your boxing gloves ready, just in case.”
I recalled Asia’s experience with the ex that stole her money to support the woman she had on the side and her children. They hadn’t gotten into a fight or even an argument, and there had been no physical altercation. Asia had merely packed her bags and left. That was different, though. Her ex had seized something tangible, money, which could be replaced. I had stolen her trust, which wasn’t easily restored.
“Thanks, David.” I wiped my eyes. “Let me do what I hav
e to do.”
David hugged me tightly. “I can’t lie. I’m disappointed in you. I thought you had settled down for good.”
“I did too.”
He kissed my forehead and attempted to lighten the mood.
“I’ll leave a blanket on the couch in case she kicks you out, but in that big-ass house, you can avoid each other, can’t you?”
I almost laughed. “I’ll call you later.”
Once inside the car, I phoned Asia and left a voice-mail message.
“Asia. It’s me. I, um, I was hoping I could catch you. I need to talk to you. Um, since I missed you, I’m going to head home early. I’ll see you when you get there.”
I exhaled and reached for a napkin in the console. My body was damp from perspiration. The beads of sweat on my forehead, in my armpits, and on my back trailed down to meet with the dampness that still lingered between my legs. I’d have to shower when I got home in an attempt to wash away all remnants of Angie. Would it even matter? Even if traces of my and Angie’s rendezvous ran down the drain, I wouldn’t be able to wash away the fact that my relationship with Asia might be over.
Ten
Asia
Kyla wasn’t at David’s house long. I waited a block away, just to see how long she would hide out there. Within twenty minutes she exited his doors. She must have been so engrossed in the voice mail message she left for me that she didn’t realize she drove right past me.
I saw her name as the caller on my phone but chose not to answer. After I witnessed the distressed state in which she left Angie’s apartment, I preferred an in-person confrontation. I wouldn’t allow her to hide behind her cell phone while she confessed her indiscretions. When I listened to her message, her voice was sad, but not necessarily remorseful, and so I returned to the office for a couple of hours to let her sweat for a while. Then I headed home
Kyla’s car was in the garage when I arrived. Recalling Mrs. Johnson’s words from earlier in the day, I tried to imitate her cool, understanding demeanor. I couldn’t. Kyla was waiting for me in the family room, our usual after-work meeting spot. She had changed out of the rumpled work attire she’d worn earlier, and sat in loose-fitting sweatpants and a sweatshirt, with her hair in a bun. Her face was washed clean and no longer had red splotches from emotion. Casually, her eyes roamed the television, but the absent-minded look on her face indicated that she was not paying attention to what was on the screen. Surely, she was rehearsing our conversation in her mind. The words would come out nervous, though practiced, as they always did when she needed to talk to me.