by Candice Dow
My penis hadn’t completely gone down; instead, it, too, formed a question mark. My face twisted. “What the fuck?”
“You got makeup on your damn shirt!” She pushed me and stood up. My pants dangling around my ankles forced me to stumble backward. She grabbed the right side of my electric blue shirt in her fist. Shaking it up and down with every syllable, she said, “Whose makeup is this, Devin? Why do you have smeared makeup on your shirt?” Her voice quivered and the hurt lingered long after the last word.
My mouth was open, but I was like a retard. Incoherent sounds escaped and my tongue slightly dangled. Suddenly, her hand struck me across my face and I snapped out of it. I grabbed her arm and looked sternly into her eyes. “Taylor, calm down.”
She yanked away from me. “Calm down? Tell me where the hell you’ve been to get makeup on your shirt first.”
I reached down to pull my pants up, because this wasn’t going so well and I didn’t need her having the advantage over me. As I buckled my pants, I tried to appear calm. “Look, I’m running for office and—”
“Devin, don’t talk to me like I’m crazy.” Her eyes shot at me. “I’m not crazy. Where did you go from the time I had lunch with you until you came home?”
Damn, this shit was really blowing me. Maybe this is why I was never the cheating type. This was too stressful. It was like she knew from the moment I stepped in the door. She just needed proof, and here I was with the evidence smeared all over me.
“Taylor, baby?”
Tears filled her eyes. You gotta be fucking kidding me! I thought. This was too much emotion for one man in one day. I smirked and looked at her. “I went to the teachers union meeting at four, and those ladies were in there talking about their salaries and how the kids are delinquents.” I took a deep breath. “Things got emotional. I hugged a lot of women. Honestly, I don’t know whose makeup this is.”
I dropped my head and huffed like I was frustrated. When I looked up, she looked embarrassed, confused, and convinced. It was bunch of emotions, with the cloud of woman’s intuition provoking her actions. She felt vulnerable, so I reached out and pulled her to me. She lay on my chest and I stroked her hair.
She asked, “Are you sure that’s what happened?”
“Yes, I’m sure.”
Her reluctance lingered for a several minutes longer, but finally, she said, “I’m sorry. I don’t know what came over me when I looked up and saw that makeup.”
“Shh. Don’t worry, baby. We all make mistakes.” I repeated, “We all make mistakes.”
She nodded on my chest, and I hoped she couldn’t feel my heart beating. I said, “Taylor J.”
“What?”
“I love you. I didn’t get married to cheat. I got married to have a partner through thick and thin. Right?”
“I guess.” She laughed a little. “I guess, Devin.”
I held her shoulders and pulled back to see her face. “You know I’m right. I’m not stupid enough to come home with makeup on my shirt. Don’t compare me to losers. I’m not a loser.”
She pushed me and climbed back into the bed. I sat on the side of the bed and massaged her back. For the first time, I looked down at the makeup. Clark was still a part of me.
16
CLARK
I begged my mother for years to move in with Kenneth and me in hopes that she could help me out with Morgan and Mia, especially when we initially started trying to have a baby. It seemed she gave me every excuse in the book why she couldn’t do it. But when my brother, Reggie, divorced his wife and moved back to Maryland from New York, she immediately put a FOR SALE sign on her lawn with no reservations. She claimed he needed her help more than me, because it’s not intuitive for men to raise kids. Little Reggie was doing fine with his father the entire time they were in New York. I concluded that mothers have a different type of connection with sons than they do with daughters.
I called Kenneth to see what time he planned to come home. Of course, he was working late. So I headed downtown to Reggie’s townhome on the pier of the Baltimore Inner Harbor to see my mother.
When I pulled up, I parked on the street. For a two-million-dollar home there should be more parking. Reggie lived in New York for eleven years, and when he moved back he wanted that same metropolitan type of lifestyle. He could have had a sprawling estate for the price. Instead, he had a four-story brick townhome and a two-car garage, with minimum street parking.
I rang the doorbell and looked through the keys as if I’d be able to find the right one. Finally, my mother opened the door. I barely saw her face. The back of her flowered housecoat swished from side to side and her slippers slid on the ebony hardwood floors as she rushed back upstairs.
The charcoal leather couch and large artwork that hung behind it was the first thing I saw when I walked up the short flight of steps leading to the grand living room. Cream pillows accented the neutral decor. The wall in between the living room and the family room had various-sized cutouts with glass sculptures in each. Reggie hired an interior designer to do it all, and it was obvious. The floors glowed, the white speckled granite countertops sparkled, and the glass accent tables were dust free and squeegee-clean. Reggie believed in doing it big, and each time I came here I was reminded of how little I could do. I needed a decorator and a housekeeper, too. Instead, all my money went to something that should cost nothing.
My mother had propped herself back on the long olive couch in the family room and pulled her many remotes from her pocket. She was hypnotized by whatever was playing on the fifty-inch flat screen. I stood at the edge of the room for a moment and delighted in her lax, lush lifestyle. Reggie had come back to Baltimore and lifted every burden she had. And she loved helping him raise Little Reggie and simply enjoying her retirement. Her hairdo was even worry free since she’d recently got all of her hair cut off, exposing her natural salt-and-pepper curls. She didn’t have to do anything but wet it and go. It worked well with her naturally sun-kissed bronze complexion. She giggled at the show and finally turned to acknowledge me.
I smiled. “Ma, is this all you do?”
As I leaned in to give her a hug, she replied, “No, I cook dinner.”
“Wow.”
“Wow, nothing.”
Little Reggie walked into the room, slugging down a Monster Energy drink. I gave him a hug. “How’s my superstar nephew doing?”
He was a sophomore at the Gilman School, and he excelled in everything—sports, academics, and anything else. His average height and caramel brown skin reminded me so much of Reggie when he was fifteen. Although Little Reggie was quite a bit more muscular than Reggie had ever been. In between running with women, Reggie had done an outstanding job with him. I always prayed that Little Reggie never inherits that womanizer trait. Trying to take the Monster from his hand, I said, “You know you don’t need to be drinking that.”
“Why, Aunt C?”
My mother frowned at me, and I explained the problem: “Because some kids are drinking these and claiming it makes them feel drunk.”
“Clark, you’ve been so uptight lately.”
Little Reggie smiled, exposing his cosmetically engineered teeth. “That’s the same thing Morgan said.”
I opted not to debate with them. After all I’d been going through, they’re lucky that I’d only been uptight. My mother asked, “What made you come over here?”
“Just felt like I wanted to see you and Reggie. Where is he?”
“Probably out to dinner.” She used her fingers as quotes. I wasn’t sure if she was trying to infer that he was on a date or out drinking. Fact was, he wasn’t here and I needed his energy at that moment. My brother was the life of the party, the funny man who managed a bunch of money. He was always out wining and dining rich clients. So there is no wonder he was always in a great mood.
“So, whatchu cook, Ma?”
My stomach growled, but I didn’t want to swallow. I just wanted to think about Devin and imagine my life if we were together.<
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“We had leftover fish.” I frowned and she scrunched her eyebrows. “Well, that’s what we had.”
“I’ll pass.”
“Clark, you crazy, girl. So what brought you down here?”
I asked Little Reggie to go upstairs, and he bopped away in his baggy sweats and large T-shirt. I needed to speak to my mother alone. By the time he hit the stairs, my mother sat up and lowered the volume on the television. “What’s wrong? Is Kenny okay?”
I chuckled a little. “Why you ask that?”
“I mean, Morgan said that when she calls home, he’s been working late and acting strange.”
“I mean, yeah, he’s been acting that way since I told him that I refused to keep putting my body through this. That was like two and a half months ago, and—”
“Clark, that’s not a decision you can make by yourself. Did you ask him?”
I sighed, “Ma, it’s my body. He doesn’t understand, but honestly, that’s not what I came here to talk about.”
She made a face as if she couldn’t imagine what could be so serious. I smiled to lighten the mood some. “I saw Devin today.”
She nearly popped up off the couch. “Devin? Your college boyfriend, Devin?”
My college boyfriend. That seemed to belittle his significance, but I nodded in agreement. She shook her head as if my seeing him was bad news.
“Ma, don’t worry. It was innocent.”
“Innocent. Clark, who do you think you’re fooling? That boy hurt you so bad, I never thought you’d be with anyone else. So, where did you see him? What’s he doing?”
“Running for Congress.”
Her mouth dropped open. “United States Congress?”
I nodded.
“Clark, that’s good. He’s not married anymore, is he?”
“Not to the same girl, but he’s remarried.” I noticed disappointment in her face. “He’s having an event for at-risk girls, and I’m going to take my girls and—”
“I don’t think you should.”
“That’s what I came to ask you. I mean, the visit was innocent, but I still felt butterflies when I saw him. Is that normal? After so many years, does that ever go away?”
“Not when you really love somebody. And it’s just playing with fire to hang around someone like that.”
The sound of the garage door opening alarmed us. She said, “That’s Reggie, and Lord knows we can’t talk when he gets in here.”
“Yeah, I know. So, you think I should just stay away from him?”
“Kenny is a good man who loves you and wants nothing more than to have another group of kids and a happy, long marriage with you. You’d be a fool to go out here and sneak around on him for someone who proved a long time ago that they didn’t give a damn about you.”
Her words hurt, and if Reggie hadn’t bounced through the side door, I may have started crying.
“If I would have known you were coming downtown, I would have taken you to dinner with me,” Reggie said, smiling.
“If you call me sometimes, then you can find out.”
I stood to give him a hug, wrapping my arms around his expensive black suit. His clean-shaven face felt like sandpaper when I kissed his cheek. He couldn’t resist the urge to mess in my hair. I returned the gesture and rubbed my hand in his black, curly, low-cut hair. He kissed my forehead and I sat back down. Then he went over to the couch and leaned down to give my mother a kiss. “Hey, baby girl.”
“Hey, Reg. How was your day?”
Reggie said, “The regular. Fantastic. Where’s Little Reggie?” Before we could answer, he scoped the room and squinted. “Why y’all in here looking suspect?”
My mother said, “Boy, go somewhere. I’m talking to my daughter.”
He loosened his tie and headed out of the room. “As long as y’all not talking about me.”
“We should be,” I said jokingly.
My mother curled her lips. “Now that one right there, any woman he meets ought to strap on her running shoes.” She shook her head. “I’m just glad that Little Reggie’s car comes so early, ’cause God knows it’s a different woman every night. I mean, he shows me enough respect to creep them out of here. But he ain’t serious about nothing and nobody.”
I nodded. Reggie got married to Sheena almost six months after Tanisha died, but their marriage began with drama. They got married, primarily because they had spent nearly fifty thousand dollars by the time Sheena realized Tanisha’s boyfriend killed her because she and Reggie were still sleeping together. Initially, she called the wedding off, but, just like Reggie, she’s a stockbroker, too. When she started calculating the investment, she was going to get a return. God only knows why it made sense to her to just do it, but she did. It was over almost as it began. They fought it out for nearly four years, but one day they were both adult enough to walk into their million-dollar condo in New York and admit they were together for the possessions and the possibility of earning millions together, but the love was never there. They were still good friends, but unlike Tanisha, Sheena was not letting Reggie sneak into her bedroom when he felt inspired. And I wasn’t even certain he was interested.
It was as if my mother was warning me of the ways of men and reminding me that of everything my husband was and wasn’t, he was never a pussy hound—and that’s more than I can say for most men. I debated in my mind, but neither was Devin. He was a one-woman man, a consummate monogamist, that was his biggest problem.
Reggie came back downstairs, and I stood up and walked into the kitchen. He began to brag about a deal that he just closed. “Yeah, man. I just closed with the CEO of an ad agency downtown. I mean, their profits are over five million a year. Man, Clark, your brother is the man.”
“I know.”
He opened his wine cooler. “C’mon, celebrate with me. Whatchu want, red… white?” He stopped abruptly. “I’m sorry. I forgot.”
“No, it’s okay. Let’s have Chardonnay.”
I hadn’t even been able to drink in a while because we were trying and I didn’t want to make a mistake. But I was ready to live again. He tilted his head and smiled. “Word?”
“Word.”
“Yo, that’s what’s up.”
“Just pour the wine.”
He put the wine under his fancy electronic bottle opener and grabbed two wineglasses from the see-through charcoal cabinets. As he spun around and placed a glass in front of me, he asked, “You sure?”
“Sure what?”
“You can drink, punk. That’s what.”
I laughed, because I was acting like he was crazy for asking, but I’d been the one normally acting strange, checking my calendar to see if I could or not.
“Yes, Reggie. Just pour the damn wine.”
As he poured, he went on about this being a nearly one-hundred-dollar bottle of wine. I rolled my eyes. He held his glass up to mine. “You toast, ’cause I’ll be talking forever.”
“Exactly.” I cleared my throat and thought about what I wanted to toast to. “Well, I would like to toast to…”
Just as I started, it seemed like my mother turned the volume on the TV up to the limit. I turned to see what the hell her problem was. Then I realized she wasn’t paying us any attention. American Idol had just come on. So I continued. “To being true to yourself, against all odds.”
“Yo, what’s up with you?”
“Just drink, damn it.”
He threw back a gulp and I followed suit, cracking up inside. This expensive wine tasted just as good as my cheap wine. It seemed like after two good swallows I began to feel a buzz, and suddenly I got the giggles about everything that came out of his mouth.
He joked, “Yo, Clark. I miss you, man.”
“What!”
“This Clark disappeared a long-ass time ago.”
It was strange that I was here covering my pain and hurt, and he thought I was happy. Finally, I said, “I saw Devin. You remember him?”
He said, “Yeah!”
From
his expression, it seemed as if he was more excited to hear about him. Which was a surprise, because he hated him when we were together. He continued, “I saw him a few years back on the train when I was moving back down here.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“I mean, I didn’t think you needed to know. He’s doing alright for himself. He was a cool cat.”
“A cool cat? Reggie, you beat him up in the club.”
“Yeah, man. That wasn’t cool. We actually had a real good talk on the train. I never really gave him a chance.”
“Why?”
“I don’t know. You know, I was always the man around here, and maybe I just wasn’t ready to share my shine.”
I wanted to jump across the bar and knee him in his balls. For years, I questioned what he saw in Devin that I didn’t see. “Reggie, are you serious?”
“Yeah, I guess. I don’t even know.”
How could he be so selfish? It was personal. It was never about me. I was pissed. Why was I feeling these strong emotions about a situation that could not be changed? I took a deep breath and convinced myself that the outcome would have been the same whether Reggie liked him or not.
I lifted my glass. “You’re an asshole. Pour me another one.”
“I used to be an asshole.”
We laughed as we sipped our third glass of wine. My mother stood up and came in the kitchen with us. “I’m going to sleep. Clark, I hope you don’t plan on driving home in that condition.”
By the time I had my fourth glass of wine, I didn’t even want to go home. Although my evening had been slightly emotional, as I drank and giggled with my brother, I felt happy. I didn’t need to go home and ruin my mood. I checked my cell phone, assuming Kenneth had called several times. No missed calls. I contemplated what I wanted to say, and finally I dialed.