My Best Friend and My Man

by Cydney Rax

  On the way back home I sigh contentedly and relax in the passenger seat.

  “You gonna stop in for a hot minute?”

  “No, baby girl. I got some things I gotta do, so if you don’t mind, I’ll make sure you get settled inside, then I gotta roll.”

  “Oh, honey,” I say feeling sad and lonely already. “But what if I insist that you hang around?” I pout.

  “You’re just spoiled, huh? Guess you ain’t used to a man like me…”

  I laugh, but Darren’s words make me think…make me think long and hard about just how accurate he is.

  The next day when I get to work, I’m still feeling good about the brief but significant quality time I got to spend with Darren and feeling even happier about my new makeover. I sit in my ride, looking at myself in the mirror, fiddling with my hair, touching up my foundation and blush, reapplying a twinge of lipstick, and curling my eyelashes. I notice that my face has a radiant glow. I sashay in the door.

  “Good morning, miss, is there anything I can help you with?”

  “Hey, sexy boy. Don’t you recognize me? It’s your girl, Demetria.”

  “Oh, yeah?” says Percy. I just leave him standing in the middle of the hallway with his mouth open so wide you can see his two gold teeth.

  Then I notice Ursula swishing down the hall toting a Shipley Do-Nuts bag. When she looks at me and rolls her eyes, I ignore her and think, You go ahead and double up on eating those donuts this morning, Ursula.

  By the time I get to my office, I’ve counted up four compliments (“That mole near your lips looks sexy,” “You rocking the hell outta that baby-doll dress, girl,” “Hey sugar, can I step up to you for a minute?,” and “Your ass looking so bootylicious I want to eat it up”).

  Good start, I think. Now all I gotta do is arrange to see Mr. Hill. His ignoring me this weekend made me feel like ten cents. I hated feeling like that, not when I know that I deserve so much more. So in a way this whole makeover is for his benefit.

  When I get on the elevator to go to his floor, I am excited to see that Seaphes is standing alone inside it. He must’ve ridden up from the ground floor. That was so easy! He tries not to stare and doesn’t get a good look at my face.

  When the elevator door closes he asks me, “Which floor are you going to?”

  “Third,” I mumble.

  “Excuse me, but you’re stop-and-stare beautiful. Have we met?”

  I laugh quietly but ignore him.

  When the elevator reaches the third floor, he gestures with his hand so I can step off first.

  “Thank you,” I tell him and set off down the hall. I feel his eyes burning through my back, his mind turning. I laugh and pass by his office.

  “Hey, excuse me,” he says, but I continue down the hallway, head held up, high heels clicking against the floor. When I pass two other men, they stare and give me that I-love-what-I-see smile. I nod and keep going until I reach the kitchen/lounge and stand in front of the coffee maker.

  “May I pour a cup for you?” Seaphes followed me!

  Without turning around, I shrug an okay.

  His phone rings. He picks up and says, “Let me call you right back.” Focusing his attention back on me, he grabs a plastic cup and asks if I want sugar and cream.

  “I want it all,” I tell him in a light whispery voice.

  “You know, you look so familiar. I’m Seaphes Hill.”

  I finally turn to stare at him, shaking my head. “Is it the new makeup, or my honey blonde highlights? Or is it something or someone else that’s causing you to have a brain fart?”

  A flicker of recognition illuminates his eyes, and he takes the cup of coffee from my hand and takes a wild sip.

  I can’t help but laugh. But then I get serious. “Why didn’t you show up at my place?”

  “Something came up.”

  “Seaphes, you know, I’m not one for raggedy excuses. I don’t like to be disrespected and that’s exactly what you did.”

  His mouth opens but nothing comes out except a loud sigh.

  “Are y’all fucking now?” I ask.

  “What kind of question is that?”

  “A valid one, Seaphes, a simple one.”

  When he doesn’t say anything I place my hands on my hips and look squarely at him. “Look, Seaphes, do me a favor, be a man, and realize that when I’m involved in something, you’ve gotten yourself into some stuff.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  I don’t say anything.

  “Look, Demetria, we need to talk. You’re getting things a bit twisted.”

  “Tell you what,” I say to him. “I think we ought to talk as well. I’ve got a thing or two to tell you.”

  “Such as?”

  “This isn’t exactly the place…so why don’t you meet me at your car. No, meet me at my car; I’m parked at the end of the parking lot. Right now.” He frowns, then glances at his watch. “C’mon, Seaphes. Spare some time and let’s go do this.”

  “Alright.” He gives in, starting to leave the lounge. “By the way, you do look nice, Demetria. I just wanted to tell you that.”

  “Where are we going?” he asks.

  “Um, you’re still planning on fixing my computer, right?”

  “I can do that, why?”

  “I need to purchase some things at the computer parts store. Some memory and a new mouse. We can chitchat on the way there.”

  “Demetria, we’re not on our own time.”

  “Do you have any meetings?”

  “Nooo, but…”

  “We can just make up the lost time later. Let’s get this conversation out of the way. I know you don’t want to be around our coworkers while we talk, do you?”

  He shakes his head in exasperation and gets in. We take off and whip through the employee parking lot. When I get up to the entrance ramp of the Southwest Freeway, a sea of red brake lights causes all the vehicles to slow to a crawl.

  “Awww, what’s wrong now?” I ask. “It’s only eight-thirty in the morning.”

  “Probably an overturned truck,” he tells me. “It’s cool. We can wait.”

  Suddenly I start thinking about one time when I went to the gynecologist, and the nurse wanted me to get a mammogram because she felt an unusual lump underneath my right breast. She set me up to come back in, but I was so filled with fear that I actually canceled the appointment. But I prayed, and made another appointment, and I went. I had to face my fears no matter how afraid I felt, to endure the physical and mental pain of the test. It came back negative, but it helped me to see what kind of woman I am. Now, talking to Seaphes doesn’t actually compare to waiting on medical test results, but I’m still nervous. Can I endure what I may not want to hear?

  “So you think I look good, huh?”

  “Come on, Demetria. You always look good.”

  “I do?” I ask.

  “Of course you do. It’s just that I think…your expectations…”

  I wince and wait for him to finish.

  “It’s not any of your business if Veron and I are sleeping together. I know you’re friends, and normally it’s fine to talk, but you’ve got to mind your own business.”

  “How come it’s usually okay but not with me?”

  “Because you are causing problems, Demetria. I don’t think you have Veron’s best interests in mind. I believe you when you say that you honestly thought that she was pissed at me the other night, and that’s why you felt like it was okay to get with me. But you also caused Veron to get pissed at me for way longer than she should have been. I can’t have that.”

  “You really like her, huh?”

  He just keeps quiet and looks out the window. But then his phone rings, and when he picks it up I can tell who it is from the way his voice changes, gets softer.

  “Uh, away from the office,” I hear him explain. “You know, I am actually stuck on the freeway, but the accident is about to be removed, then I gotta take care of some business, and I’ll be back as so
on as I can get there.” A pause. “Just something I really need to take care of. How are you doing this morning?” A pause. “Awww, that’s sweet,” he says in this sugary voice. But he glances at me and suddenly sounds more authoritative. “Nothing to worry about, Veron. I’ll get back with you later. You stay sweet, okay?” Another pause. “Back at ya,” he whispers.

  Soon as he hangs up I tell him, “Thanks for answering my question.”

  —28—

  VERON

  I think Seaphes is up to something. He comes to work, gets distracted, ends up going home but still hasn’t returned to work, and it’s almost three o’clock. What is that? I decided to stop trying to get him on the phone, though. Gotta act like I don’t care. Gotta learn not to check on a man every five minutes. I refuse to smother him. But playing by these rules sure affects my ability to concentrate for the rest of the day.

  And I’ve got to step it up. I think I know what Seaphes was trying to say the other night. He wants me to be real, but the book is working! So I have to keep on with the book but polish up my acting skills. He can’t think that I don’t mean what I say. I have to be strong.

  It’s hard, though, when Seaphes is missing, and Demetria is, too.

  It’s past four when Ursula Phillips walks in my office, with her big ole booty tagging along.

  “Can I talk to you for a minute?” she asks.

  “I guess.”

  She sits down on my guest chair with this annoyed expression on her face.

  “Dang, what’s wrong with you?” I ask.

  “You know that Seaphes is gone, right?”

  I nod as if to say, Yeah, so what.

  “I saw him leaving the facility early this morning, with Demetria.”

  “You’re spying on the guy?”

  “I wasn’t spying. I happened to be in the security room and saw them on surveillance.”

  “So why do you feel the need to tell me this? And why so late in the day?”

  “Only because I’ve been calling him all day, and he hasn’t returned my calls. To be frank, he’s pissing me the hell off.”

  “And so you want to get him back by divulging his personal business to me. As if I am his mother, and you’re the tattletale?”

  “Hey, Veron. I’m just trying to help you out. You’ve looked out of it all day. It’s easy to figure out your mood has to do with him.”

  “Well, you figured wrong. I already knew he was with her,” I say, hoping I sound like I’m secure enough not to care. “They have some business to take care of. So whatever you saw on my face has nothing to do with him.”

  “Look trick, you’re talking to a real woman here. And I can see it on another woman’s face when she’s hurt and upset by a man.”

  “You don’t know what you’re talking about,” I say, anxious for her to leave…and yet wanting to hear more.

  “When’s the last time you talked to Seaphes?”

  “What difference does it make?”

  “Because if he really cared about you, he’d be in constant contact. He’d give you a sense of security, he’d do things to let you know he can be trusted.”

  I reflect on her words, squirming in my seat and yanking forcefully on my ponytail.

  “Let me tell you something about Mr. Hill,” she continues. “In my observation, he is the perfect man on paper, but you gotta go beyond what’s on the paper. It’s like you gotta squeeze him as if he’s an orange. Put tremendous pressure on him so what’s really inside of him comes out. That way you’ll know for sure if he’s a solid keeper or if he’s just a temporary waste of time.”

  I eye her curiously. “Is that what you did with him? Put pressure on him?”

  “That’s what I should have done with him, but I was too afraid. But maybe your faith can take you where mine didn’t.”

  “Huh?”

  She notices my discomfort and sits down in the seat next to mine, releasing a thoughtful, deep breath.

  “Veron, sometimes we think we women love a man so much that we can ignore his weaknesses, we can become blind to the red flags. We hope so hard that this man is everything that he claims he is, everything we wish he can be, and that we believe it. But if our gut whispers to us to check things out, we oughta listen. It would save us lots of pain and heartache.” Her stony face softens. “Reason why I know is because I’m sure you’ve heard I reconciled with my spouse. In the beginning, when we first married, every one of his flaws was front and center, but I was so in love with him it didn’t bother me that his credit was severely jacked up. I didn’t care if he wanted to have a men’s night out even if his ‘night’ wouldn’t end until three a.m., and I was sitting home crying. Hello? I should have known from the start it was a problem. So why reconcile? Because his four-year-old namesake would ask for his daddy every single day, and I didn’t want to deprive our son of that relationship. So now Junior is happy, his hero is back home. But I’m miserable, still looking out windows. And Mr. Husband still gets to do his thing. Why does a man always get to do his thing?”

  Her strong voice spirals down to a painful moan, and she fiercely grabs and caresses my hand as if her strength is about to give way. “So please, little sista, please don’t be me, repeating my mistakes. Never fall in love with a man who doesn’t treat you like a queen. If you aren’t number one, then he shouldn’t be either.”

  I want to touch her, ease her pain through soft words or physical compassion, but all I can do is nod appreciatively at her, unable to formulate an adequate response. Her words remind me of the promise I made to myself: no matter the uncertainties, I was willing to tackle whatever I have to face on this journey of love. Yes, I’m in a terrifying place right now, but that’s how love goes. I just have to keep on.

  When I get off work, instead of going directly home like I normally do, I stop by JCPenney and buy a pink and white workout shirt and matching shorts for the Walk America event. It’s still two weeks away, but I need to concentrate on something besides myself.

  Afterward, when I pull up to my apartment and find Seaphes’s car parked in the space right next to mine, I don’t know what to make of it.

  “What are you doing here?” I ask, getting out of the car.

  “Waiting on you. Where you been, woman?” he says with a teasing smile.

  Even though I am happy to see him, I maintain a blasé attitude. “I was taking care of some business. Why are you dressed so fancy?” He’s wearing a crisply ironed white dress shirt, purple and red tie, and some dark pin-striped trousers.

  “We’re going out. Just me and you.”

  “Oh, really,” I remark, thinking how deliciously strange his comments sound.

  “Yeah, let me in the crib so you can get ready. I’ve been burning up gas sitting in my car with the AC on.”

  A date! I am tempted to giggle but suppress my giddiness.

  I walk inside the apartment, and my mouth pops open. There are roses arranged around my entire living room—I count six dozen. I also notice two stuffed animals (an oversized bunny rabbit and a soft, brown, cuddly teddy bear), and I see a stack of Japanese comic books spread out on the coffee table.

  “What the hell is all this?” I cover my face with my hands, trying to cover up the redness that burns underneath my cheeks. “C’mon, you’re not telling me something. Is all this for me? How’d you get in the apartment?”

  “Yep, I owe you, young lady. I realized how much of an ass I’ve been.”

  “You have?” I ask, confused.

  He rushes to say, “Well, I mean, I could be much better than what I am. I haven’t given you of myself one hundred percent, and I need to step up my game. And it was all Demetria’s idea.”

  I scowl. “Say what?”

  “I finally got a chance to repair her computer today. And she and I were talking, and she was telling me I’ve been neglecting you, and everything she said was true. So she suggested I step up my game for you. She knows your landlord, and he let her in your apartment while she filled it with
the roses, everything. From me, for you. And now you and I are going out. I just want to make things up to you, give you my best self.”

  I slump down on the couch, inhale the aroma of all the roses, stroke my fingers across the comic books, and reflect on everything he said. I love that he did all this, but I don’t want to be too over the moon. “You know, this is very wonderful, Seaphes, but it bothers me that you couldn’t come up with the idea yourself. You only did it because Demetria suggested it. And I’m not sure I appreciate that.”

  His face drops, but he recovers. “No, babe, don’t look at it like that. Sometimes a man can’t see himself, he needs nudging, reminders. You gotta look at the positive side. Demetria is looking out for you, hooking you up.”

  “But why would she do that?”

  He stares at me without blinking. “Because she’s your best friend. That’s what friends do.”

  “I guess,” I tell him as I battle mixed emotions. I do absolutely adore flowers, and the teddy bear makes me feel like a five-year-old again. I pick up the soft, tan-colored bear and squeeze him in my arms. “Okay, this bear’s name is Little Seaphes. And the rabbit looks like a female, so her name is Demetria.”

  “Hmmm, that’s kinda odd.”

  “Then it’ll match everything that’s happening today,” I tell him with a loud sigh. “Okay. I thank you for all your efforts, I do. They’re very thoughtful and even though another woman had to steer you in the right direction, I accept that you are sincere. But next time I want more, and I want to know that you came up with it on your own.”

  He pauses, looking a little taken aback, but then says, “I’m sorry if this was wrong. I just wanna make you happy.”

  I catch my breath and utter, “You do?”

  “You are a sweet person and you deserve to be treated well. And usually a man doesn’t realize that about his woman until he sees the back of her head fading off into the distance. That’s all I’m trying to say. Maybe I’m not doing a very good job.”