Lookin' For Luv

by Carl Weber

  Shawna walked to her car, tears streaming down her face. She turned one last time to look at Antoine, who wasn’t even glancing in her direction. Sadly she got into her car and drove away.

  Releasing Keisha, Antoine turned to watch Shawna’s car as it turned the corner. Keisha stood breathing heavily. She couldn’t resist one more insult, even though Shawna was already gone.

  “You know, my grandmother always used to say something about girls like her.”

  “What’s that?” Antoine was annoyed.

  “You can make the housewife into a whore. But you can never make a whore into a housewife.”

  “Do me a favor, Keisha. Don’t speak to me again. Ever. I’m just gonna put the rent check in your mailbox.” Antoine turned to leave.

  “What did I do?” Keisha asked in amazement.

  “You did everything. This whole thing would have gone a hell of a lot smoother if you had stayed out of it like I asked.” He stomped up the stairs to his apartment.

  “I’m sorry . . .” she tried to tell him as the door slammed shut.

  Keisha was at a loss for words as she returned to her beauty shop. She couldn’t understand why Antoine was upset with her. It was her personality to attack when she felt threatened, and Shawna had been a threat to her since the first day she showed up in front of the building. Shawna had something that Keisha had wanted for a long time.

  But Keisha actually thought she had been pretty good until then, restraining herself every time the bitch said something to her. It was only when she saw her hit Antoine that she couldn’t hold herself back anymore. Why couldn’t he understand that she was only fighting for him?

  Keisha was confused. She wanted Antoine to accept that she would fight when she had to. But she knew he never resorted to physical violence to solve his problems, and that was exactly what she liked about him. He was so refined compared to most of the men she knew. He wanted to solve his problems with his mind rather than his fists. She knew that she and Antoine could learn a lot from each other and their differences, and she was determined that someday she would make Antoine understand this.

  Upstairs in his apartment Antoine grabbed a bottle of rum and nearly finished off the entire bottle in one gulp. For two weeks he stayed in a drunken stupor. He left his apartment only long enough to get more booze. His head was reeling from all the alcohol and from the rush of emotions that he still could not contain. He threw an empty bottle of rum at his telephone when its ring invaded the silent room. He missed.

  “Who the fuck’s calling me?” he slurred, picking up a brandy bottle and trying to drink the remaining few drops.

  “Antoine, pick up! Antoine, this is Kevin. Listen, I just got back from Virginia, and they say you haven’t been to work in over a week. I don’t know what’s going on over there, but I’m worried about you, bro, and so is Tyrone. Look, gimme a call when you get this message. It doesn’t matter what time.”

  “Fuck you and Tyrone! You don’t give a shit about me. Nobody does,” Antoine screamed, throwing the brandy bottle at the answering machine. It hit the message button, which activated the machine.

  “You have four messages,” the machine barked. “Message number one: ‘Yo, Antoine, this is Tyrone. Where you been, man? Kevin’s sister Whitney is in the hospita!.’”

  “Message two: ‘Mr. Smith, this is Dr. Maurice Johnson. You haven’t called in sick or notified us about any personal time you needed. It is imperative that you give me a call at the school so we can make arrangements to cover your English Regents review class.’”

  All that son of a bitch cares about is those fucking test scores. I could be dead for all he cares.

  “Message three: ‘Hello, Mr. Smith, this is Mrs. Rogers, the school secretary. I was just calling to let you know that the staff and I were thinking about you. I hope whatever it is keeping you out is not serious. Have a blessed day.’”

  Mrs. Rogers’s message sobered him slightly, just enough to realize how recklessly he had been acting. The breakup with Shawna had hurt him more deeply than anything he could remember, but he knew this was not like him to spend practically two weeks in an alcoholic fog. The more he thought about it, the more disgusted he became with his behavior. He had to get himself together.

  He staggered over to his desk to find his rent check, which was a week late. Once he discovered it under a pile of unopened mail, he stumbled down the stairs to Keisha’s apartment. As he tried to open her mailbox, he tripped over his own feet and fell. Too drunk to get up, he soon passed out in front of her door.

  Antoine awoke with blurred vision and a headache that felt as if an anvil had been dropped on his temples. Blinking several times to focus his eyes, he finally made out what appeared to be a naked woman. She was large but shapely and hummed softly as she toweled herself dry. Antoine was sure he must have been dreaming. As the woman turned around, he recognized her face. He was surprised that Keisha would be the woman in his dream, but she sure looked good. He laughed, thinking she would be flattered to know he was dreaming about her.

  “It’s good to see you’re among the living.” Keisha smiled, wrapping the towel around her body.

  “Keisha? You mean I’m not dreaming?” He took both his hands and placed them on the sides of his head, hoping to ease his headache.

  “No, Antoine, you’re not dreaming. It’s me in the flesh.” She smiled again.

  “You’re not kidding about that.” Antoine rolled over and groaned as the pain in his head intensified. “What time is it anyway? I don’t want to be late for work.”

  “You’re already late.” She pointed to the clock, which said 12:47 P.M. “I hope you don’t mind. I called your job and told them you’d be in tomorrow.”

  “No, I don’t mind. I need to get myself back on track. I really appreciate it.” He sat up at the edge of the bed and noticed that he was wearing only underwear. “How long have I been here? What happened?” he muttered.

  “I found you passed out in front of my door yesterday morning. You were covered in your own vomit. It took me about three hours to clean you up and get rid of the smell.” She walked into the bathroom to put on a robe.

  “Damn, my head hurts. You wouldn’t have any aspirin, would you?”

  “That doesn’t work on hangovers, trust me. I’ll get you something that will.”

  She walked out of the room, headed for the kitchen.

  Antoine sat up on the bed and looked around Keisha’s bedroom for the first time. The room was much larger than his, and instead of pictures the walls were lined with decorative bookcases, all filled with books. He walked over to one of the cases and read the brass-engraved label. BLACK HISTORY: FIRST PRINTINGS. He took a book off the shelf and opened it up, looking at the copyright.

  “Damn, this is a first printing of J.A. Rogers’s Superman to Man,” he said out loud, astonished.

  “Great book, isn’t it?” Keisha had returned, handing him a glass with a red mixture in it. “Drink this. It will help knock out your headache.” He quickly gulped down the mixture and made a face at the horrible taste.

  “Don’t worry. It tastes like crap, but it’ll fix your head in no time.”

  “Where’d you get all these books, Keisha? This one must be worth a couple of hundred dollars.”

  “Three hundred to be exact. I’ve been collecting rare books by African Americans for years. That’s one of the things that attracted me to you in the first place.”

  “Why do you say that?”

  “When you first moved in, one of the boxes broke, and I saw all the poetry books you had. Right then and there I knew you were the kind of guy I wanted to get with”

  “Why didn’t you ever tell me this, Keisha?” He was flattered.

  “I don’t know. I guess you never really gave me the chance. I think you decided you had me all figured out as soon as you saw me working in the shop, gossiping with my girls.”

  Somehow, in the midst of a pounding headache, Antoine had a moment of clarity. There was
much more to Keisha than he had ever imagined, and he was ashamed that he had judged her so harshly all this time. For all of her tough street talk and aggressive behavior, Keisha had a big enough heart to take him in when he was at his lowest, passed out on her doorstep. And now that he was in her apartment, she had not displayed one bit of anger for all of the times he had written her off as not worthy by his standards. He was humbled.

  At the same time, he was also becoming aware that this wonderful woman was standing in front of him wearing only her bathrobe. The hangover and the rawness of his emotions made him very bold, and he put his hands on Keisha’s hips, drawing her closer to him.

  “Well, Keisha, I have been a fool. Why didn’t I notice the real you sooner?” He pressed his lips against hers. She sighed contentedly and snuggled against him as they kissed again.

  Making their way onto the bed, Antoine fell back and pulled Keisha on top of him. He opened her robe and caressed her. Keisha arched her back and breathed a deep, satisfied sigh. This moment was exactly what she had dreamed about with Antoine for so long, but she didn’t want it to happen for the wrong reasons. Sitting up, she took both her hands and closed her robe tightly.

  “I’m sorry, Antoine, but I have too much self-respect to be a one-night stand.”

  “Who said anything about a one-night stand?” He tried to open her robe again.

  “You men are all alike, aren’t you? Yesterday you were ready to commit suicide because your precious Shawna wasn’t pure as the driven snow. Now I’m supposed to think you want me just because you found out I have some good books? Be for real, man. I know you’re just looking for some pussy.” She tried to get up, but Antoine held her.

  “Look, I’m not saying I’m fully over Shawna, but I see now what you’ve been trying to make me notice all along. You and I could really have something, Keisha.”

  “What, like some fun in this bed? No, thanks, I don’t need that kind of misery. Guys on the rebound never stay with the next chick.”

  “No, Keisha, books. Think of all the hours of enjoyment we can have, sharing and talking about books. I’m willing to make this work if you’ll give it a try,” he pleaded.

  “Okay, I’ll give it a try. But, Antoine, there are some conditions if I’m going to trust that you want more than some rebound sex.”

  Keisha sensed his sincerity. Besides, she couldn’t resist his cute round face. But her streetwise side told her that she’d better not fall too quickly. There was still that chance that Shawna could come back, and he might have another change of heart. She decided to be cautious and let him know he was not going to be able to dive right in without proving himself.

  “Go ahead, I’m listening.”

  “First of all, I’m not giving you any sex until I’m ready. Second, you’re going to wine and dine me just like you did her. And third, I don’t want to see her whorish ass around here if you’re going to be my man. I live and work here, so both of you are going to show me some respect. Do you think you can handle that?”

  She practically barked out her list of demands, but this time her aggression wasn’t a deterrent to Antoine. He understood that this was only one side of Keisha, and he was willing to look beyond it for the chance to know the rest of her. He looked up at her with a smile.

  “If you’re willing to try this, Keisha, I promise to make every day better than the last”

  She hugged him tightly, looking forward to making sure he kept that promise.

  27

  ALICIA

  Alicia picked up her gym bag and said good-bye to the women in the locker room. She had just finished a karate lesson at the Standing on Your Own club that Sylvia had told her about, and Alicia was feeling really good about herself. She had been attending the club’s self-defense classes for a little over a month and had just started attending group counseling sessions for battered women. Making the decision to seek counseling was a giant step for Alicia. Originally she was too ashamed that she had let Trevor back into her life, and she wasn’t about to admit that to some stranger who wanted to analyze her. But after meeting some of the women in her karate classes and hearing their stories, she learned that she was not alone. Many women were in similar situations, and they convinced her she would have to be willing to seek help from every possible source if she wanted to start putting her life back together.

  As she left the locker room, she stopped to watch the advanced karate class for a few minutes. That’s gonna be me one day, she thought, watching a five-foot woman flip the six-foot instructor flat on his back. I’m not gonna let anyone intimidate me anymore. She picked up her gym bag and strode over to the area that had been set aside for childcare.

  Inside the room were almost fifteen children mesmerized by a television. Alicia approached a light-skinned woman in her late forties who sat behind a desk.

  “I’m here to pick up my son, Michael,” she told the woman as she reached for a pen and the signout sheet.

  “I don’t know what it is about that Pokémon, but it’s the best baby-sitter I’ve ever seen,” the woman remarked.

  “Tell me about it. All I have to do is threaten to throw out my son’s Pokémon cards and he does whatever he’s told.”

  “So how long you been comin’ to the club?” the woman asked.

  “About a month. What about you?”

  “I opened the club with Jen Anderson five years ago. My name’s Laverne Jackson.” The woman smiled.

  “Nice to meet you, Laverne. I’m Alicia Meyers.” Alicia offered Laverne her hand, but Laverne stood up from her chair and walked around the desk.

  “We don’t shake hands when we make new friends around here. We give them a hug.” Laverne opened her arms and wrapped them around Alicia, embracing her tightly. “I don’t know what you’re looking for, Alicia, but if you stick with the club, I’m sure you’ll find what you need.”

  “I hope so, Laverne, I really do hope so.” Alicia hugged Laverne back.

  It had taken Alicia and Michael a little more than thirty minutes to get home from the club. Alicia had decided to order a pizza and have it delivered for dinner. She rented a video game for Michael and a romantic movie for herself. As she placed the key in her door, she was looking forward to ordering their dinner and putting her feet up for the evening for some peace and relaxation. A voice startled her from behind.

  “Hi, Alicia.” The voice gave her chills. She spun around to face Trevor, holding a small flower arrangement.

  “Trevor, what are you doing here?” She pulled Michael closer to her.

  “I just wanted to talk.” Trevor’s tone was lacking its usual aggression. He actually sounded humble, though it didn’t matter to Alicia. She was still scared.

  “Why’d you change your number?” Trevor asked.

  “Isn’t it obvious? I did it ’cause I don’t wanna have anything to do with you.” Alicia reached in her handbag, taking hold of the pepper spray she’d been carrying since she’d started taking self-defense classes. Now she prayed she would have the nerve to use it if things got out of hand.

  “Come on now. Why you gonna act this way?” Trevor pleaded. “I told you I’m sorry. Y‘know I act a little stupid when I get drunk.” He could tell from Alicia’s expression that she didn’t want to hear it, so he tried his best to sound even more sincere. “I swear, I haven’t even had a drink in over a month and I’m gonna start goin’ to AA meetings next week, aw’ight?”

  “Yeah, right.” Alicia took a step toward her door, but Trevor matched it.

  “Come on, baby, you know I love you.” Alicia could see the frustration on Trevor’s face, so she tightened her grip around the pepper spray in her bag.

  “Stay away from me, Trevor!” He froze in his tracks, looking around for anyone who might be watching them.

  “Why you actin’ this way? You know I ain’t gonna hurt you.” Trevor tried to hand her the flowers. “Take ’em. I know how much you love flowers.”

  “I think I’ve seen enough flowers to last a
lifetime.”

  “Well, I got some money for you and Michael too.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out some folded bills, handing them to Alicia.

  “Only reason I’m taking this money is ’cause your son needs new clothes.” Alicia took her arm from around Michael to get the money. She didn’t want to have to let go of the pepper spray in her handbag.

  Trevor smirked. It had been his experience that whenever she took his money, he was on his way back into her life.

  “Look, Alicia, we need to sit down and talk. Work things out for Michael’s sake. Do you really wanna raise him without his daddy? Without his family? Come on, baby, just give me one more chance.” Trevor lowered his head to look humble. “Hey, Mike, tell your mom to give me another chance. Come on, man, remember how much fun we had going to that Nets game together? If your mom takes me back, we can go to some more games and go to Disney World this summer, like I promised.”

  Michael tugged on his mother’s coat. “Give him another chance, Mom, please?”

  Alicia looked down at her son. “I’m sorry, Michael. I can’t do it. Your father has a lot of problems, and until he’s really willing to deal with them, I don’t want anything to do with him.” Alicia turned her attention to Trevor. “I appreciate the money, Trevor, and I pray that what you said about the drinking is true, but it’s been all about you in the past. Now it’s about me.” Alicia turned the key and opened the door to her building.

  Trevor stuck his arm in front of her to prevent her from entering the building. “I know I fucked up in the past, but I’m gonna change this time, I promise. I’m willing to do whatever it takes to make this work. I just want my family back. I swear on my dead grandmother I’m gonna change.”

  Alicia stared at Trevor. She was softening a bit, starting to believe that he really meant what he was saying. But the short time she had been at Standing on Your Own had taught her that it would take more than a few promises for an abuser to truly change himself. She was not ready to let him back into her or her son’s life.