by Mary Monroe
“You should write a book about your experiences someday,” I suggested.
“I have another story I’ve been meaning to tell you. A woman came in one Monday morning because she’d gotten drunk the Saturday night before and she lost her dentures.”
“How did that happen?” I asked.
“She and her date were cruising down some back street on the East Side when she had to lean out the window and throw up. Her teeth went out the window too. She said it was so dark, her honey, who was as drunk as she was, refused to stop and help her locate her choppers. When she went back by herself the next day, somebody had run over them. I had to force myself not to laugh when she showed up in my office that Monday morning with her smashed-up teeth in a baggie. I felt so sorry for her, I told her I’d replace them free of charge.”
“That poor woman! Honey, that was so nice of you to give her new teeth for free. No wonder you have so many loyal patients.” I sat up and looked around. “I’m going to go get us some water after all,” I said, already rising. “Would you like something to nibble on too?”
“Every day.” Reed licked his lips and winked. Then he patted my crotch. “I’ll do my nibbling tonight when we go to bed. And that’s a promise. . . .” I didn’t respond to his lewd “promise.” I shuddered, but I managed to stay calm.
A lot of our neighbors were Reed’s patients, so they lit up whenever they saw him. We waved to a grinning young Chinese American couple who lived on the third floor. They had just wandered in and sat down on the opposite side of the pool. “Invite the Wongs to have dinner with us next week,” Reed told me in a low voice. Then he started talking fast, as if somebody had just pushed a button that controlled his mouth. “Oh! I almost forgot. The Millers reminded me last night that we owe them a dinner too, so look at your calendar and see what days work for us. Cook something real elaborate. A duck with all the trimmings sounds good. Trot down to that Asian market at the corner and pick up some organic veggies. I’m sure you can find a nice, plump duck there too. Have that florist on Jersey Street send over a pretty floral arrangement to set on the dinner table. Do the same thing for the Wongs, but cook something different because they are real fussy and two of my first patients, so I need to keep them happy. Ah! A lasagna made from scratch should do the trick. Plan both dinners for next week, but not on the same day. The Millers can’t stand the Wongs.”
By the time Reed turned off his motor mouth, I was ready to scream. Hosting two separate dinners in the same week was going to impact my dating schedule as well as my miscellaneous online activity. I had recently begun to spend hours at a time reading comments and reviews and chatting with other club members in our private chat rooms. I scheduled most of my weekday, in-person encounters for as early in the day as possible. It gave me plenty of time to go on a date and still beat Reed home. Three weeks ago, after two back-to-back dates in the same day, I’d come home sore from my head all the way down to my toes. I had to soak my body in Epsom salts to soothe the pain between my thighs. But it was a small price to pay for all the fun I was having.
“Um, yeah. That’ll be a lot of work, but I’ll try to do my best.”
“You will do your best.”
“Maybe I can get Too Sweet to come over and help me cook.”
Reed looked at me as if I had turned into a tree. “Joan, do you honestly think I’d allow an unsophisticated mammy reject like Too Sweet prepare a meal for the Wongs and the Millers—or anybody else I know? I wouldn’t even let her prepare the food to go into a hog trough for a hog I didn’t like. Old-school black sisters like her cook the hell out of veggies and they—”
“You’ve made your point, Reed!” I hollered with my hand up to his face. He didn’t know how close I was to slapping the daylights out of him, but I refused to get “ghetto” in front of the Wongs. I lowered my voice almost to a whisper and continued. “And I don’t want to keep warning you about trashing my family. I could say a whole lot of shit about your folks.”
“Now, now, honey. Let’s stay focused on the dinners I want you to prepare.”
“And if you feel that way about the way we black women cook, why do you ask me to cook a pot of greens two or three times a month? Last Thursday when I cooked mustard greens for dinner, you gobbled up three helpings.”
“True, but I paid dearly for it. I had gas and cramps for two days,” Reed chortled. “Baby, you can keep cooking greens for me as long as it makes you happy. But I refuse to let you subject my friends and patients to that kind of culinary abuse. Now, if you think you need help, call up one of those agencies and have them send somebody over. And make sure it’s somebody who can stay and do all the serving and clean up afterward.”
“If I’m going to do all that cooking and can’t have Too Sweet help me, I’d rather do it by myself. And I can do all the serving and cleaning up by myself too. I don’t want a stranger in my kitchen.” I exhaled and gave Reed a thoughtful look. “Well, I guess I’ll go on and get those bottles of water.”
Reed looked at my purse in my hand, and I clutched it tighter. I knew that if I left it behind, he would remove my cell phone and check my calls. “You’re coming right back, so how come you’re taking your purse with you?” he asked.
“Huh? Oh. I need to put a few tampons in it in case I need them.”
“Okay, baby. Don’t take too long. Bring some chips and dip with you.”
As soon as I got back upstairs, I went into the guest bathroom and locked the door. I took my cell phone out of my purse and dialed Lola’s number, but she didn’t answer. Because I’d spent so much time on my outside activities in the past few days, I decided to stay close to home today. It was painful, and had Junior not been in his room playing video games, I would have jumped into my car and gone to the mall or Mama’s house for a couple of hours. I wanted to log in to the club’s website and see if I could arrange another date for one day next week. But I couldn’t take that chance today as long as Reed was around.
One of the many good things I liked about Discreet Encounters was that none of the men I’d contacted had ever turned me down for a date. Unlike Lola, I was bold enough to initiate an encounter. Another good thing was, even though I’d been the initiator in a few cases, none of the men had allowed me to pay for the hotel room. That had always been one of the club’s rules: The initiator was responsible for all the expenses, even airfare if the hookup involved some traveling. Usually, when I did the “soliciting,” I e-mailed visitors who had already checked into a local hotel, or ones who were scheduled to come to the Bay Area.
There were times when I had to remind myself not to get too greedy. But the bottom line was, I enjoyed sex—good sex. And when the urge to get some hit me, I didn’t sit around and wait for it to come to me. I went after it.
When I left the bathroom less than a minute later and went into the living room, Reed was slumped on the couch with Junior. The remote was in Reed’s hand. He had not turned on the TV and that all-too-familiar look of despair was back on his face. I had my purse in one hand, my cell phone in the other.
“I guess you forgot I was downstairs, huh?” Reed mumbled, frowning at the phone in my hand like it was a piece of shit.
“I just left you a few minutes ago, and I had to use the bathroom,” I replied.
“Who did you call?” He nodded toward my cell phone.
“I didn’t call anybody and nobody called me. But I’m expecting a call from Mama. I just checked to see if she’d called. I’m sorry.”
“You sure are sorry,” he snarled.
“Mama, can I order some Chinese takeout for dinner?” Junior piped in. My son was totally oblivious to the tension between Reed and me. I made it a point to never show too much of my frustration in front of him.
“Yes, son. Go ahead and do that,” I said quickly and cheerfully. “Make sure you get some egg rolls for your daddy.” Reed was staring at the wall, and he looked like he was in mourning. And just a few minutes earlier, he had been laughing and joking with m
e. I didn’t know what to do or say to bring him out of the doldrums, so I didn’t even try.
I returned to the bathroom and tried to reach Lola again. She still didn’t answer her cell phone, so I tried her landline. She didn’t answer it either. When I returned to the living room, Reed didn’t even look in my direction. I ignored him and went into our bedroom.
I stretched out on the bed, and for the next hour I stared at the ceiling and replayed a conversation I’d had with John on the telephone yesterday. He had asked me to move to Phoenix again. That was not going to happen, but it made me feel good about myself to know that a man like him was so anxious to have me all to himself. And his proposition couldn’t have come at a better time. I didn’t feel as confident about myself as I had in my early twenties. Now that I was in my thirties, I had all the same concerns about my looks as other women my age. I examined my entire body thoroughly in the full-length mirror behind my bedroom door at least once a month. I didn’t have any noticeable lines on my face, or any gray hair, but my breasts were not as perky as they used to be. One thing was for sure, I was not going to grow old gracefully. I was going to approach it kicking and screaming the way celebrities did. I would do whatever it took to look good for as long as possible. If I didn’t take DrFeelGood up on his offer to perform all the free surgery I wanted, I’d use Reed’s money to do it. My appearance was very important if I wanted to continue having a good time.
When I got up and headed back to the living room, Junior was on the couch with a large plate of shrimp fried rice and egg rolls on the coffee table in front of him. I gave him a sideways glance and shook my head as he stuffed food into his greasy mouth. I plucked an egg roll off his plate and headed toward the kitchen to see if Reed was in a better mood. If he was, I thought it would be a good idea to invite him to go to the movies with me.
He was sitting at the table with his back to the door. There was a full plate in front of him. He hadn’t even removed his chopsticks out of the wrapper. It took me a second to realize he was talking to somebody on the telephone.
I stopped dead in my tracks when I heard what he was saying. “I don’t want to live without my wife.” He choked on a sob and then he sniffled. What the hell is going on with this crybaby now, I wondered. I stepped back, hid by the side of the door, and listened. I was dying to hear who he was talking to. What he said next made my flesh crawl. “Thank you, ma’am. I never thought I’d be calling Suicide Prevention, but I’m glad I did. You’ve been very helpful. The way things are going now, I’m sure I’ll be calling again. . . .”
Chapter 29
Lola
THE NEWS ABOUT LIBBY AND HER FAMILY MOVING IN WITH US WAS so disturbing, I had to figure out something to do to keep myself from going crazy. I was so wound up, I couldn’t even think straight. I went to my room and tried to read the latest issue of People magazine. I couldn’t concentrate on any of the articles long enough for them to make any sense to me. I tried to watch a couple of TV programs, but I couldn’t concentrate on them either. I needed to talk to somebody about my latest crisis. I dialed Joan’s number, but she didn’t answer.
I was reluctant to go online and log on to the Discreet Encounters live chat. Since sex was the club’s main objective, I knew none of my fellow club members would be interested in chatting with me about my domestic problems. I got up from my desk and started pacing. After only a few minutes, my chest felt so tight, I had trouble breathing. I had to open a window so I could get some fresh air. It dawned on me that I should get out of the house for a while.
I had heard Bertha go into her room several hours ago. I waited another ten minutes before I tiptoed out into the hallway. Before I even got within five feet of her door, I could hear her snoring.
If this was not a case where I needed a drink, I didn’t know what was. Unfortunately, a liter of generic beer was the only alcohol in the house. That shit tasted like Alka-Seltzer, and even though it might have helped the throbbing headache I had suddenly developed, I needed something much more potent. I padded down the stairs with my car key in my hand. I rushed out the door to my car and I didn’t stop driving until I reached the first bar I saw.
I parked in front of the Green Rose, a dive bar eight blocks down our street. Their closing time was two a.m. It was already one thirty, but half an hour would be enough time for me to get drunk.
I was glad the four male patrons inside were already with other women so I didn’t have to worry about anybody trying to hit on me. I had time for just one drink anyway. Instead of my usual glass of white wine or a Cadillac margarita, I ordered a double shot of Jack Daniels. As soon as I gulped it down, I got a strong buzz.
After I paid my tab and began to stagger toward the exit, the bartender offered to call a cab for me. I declined his offer. When I got outside, the cool night air blew some sense into my head. Instead of attempting to drive myself home and possibly having an accident and getting arrested, I decided to give Joan another call. If she answered, I’d ask her to rescue me. She didn’t answer her cell phone, so I dialed the landline. To my everlasting horror, Reed answered. If I had blocked my number, I would have just hung up without saying a word.
“Yeah,” he mumbled, sounding as grumpy as ever.
“Reed, this is Lola.” I hiccupped. “I’d like to speak to Joan.” I hiccupped again.
“What’s wrong with you, girl? Do you know what time it is? And it sounds like you’re hella drunk! Shee-it!” Reed was such an educated man, but there were times when he sounded like a typical homeboy from the hood.
“I know,” I slurred. “But I really need to talk to her. It’s important.”
“Well, unless it’s a matter of life or death, it’s not important enough for me to wake her up. Now, is that the case?”
“Not really,” I mumbled.
“Then it can wait until tomorrow. I’ll tell Joan you called.” Just as I was about to speak again, he hung up.
I had three choices: walk around in the night air until I sobered up, call a cab, or drive myself home and risk getting stopped by the cops. I had never been arrested. If that ever happened, the last thing I wanted to be hauled in for was drunk driving. I decided to call a cab.
When I got home, I couldn’t get to sleep, so I turned my computer on and fiddled around on the Internet for about an hour until I could no longer stay awake.
At seven in the morning, I called my work and told my boss I had severe menstrual cramps and would be a few hours late. Mr. Cottright, like so many other men, didn’t like to discuss female body issues. He mumbled some gibberish under his breath, and then he told me to take the whole day off.
Every few minutes I glanced at the clock on my nightstand. A few minutes after eight, I dialed Joan’s cell phone again. I breathed a sigh of relief when she answered on the first ring.
“I was just about to call you. Reed told me you called a few hours ago,” she said as soon as she heard my voice. “You don’t sound good at all.”
“You got that right. I received some bad news last night,” I blurted.
Joan took her time responding. “Don’t tell me, let me guess.” She cleared her throat. “Calvin doesn’t want to see you again after all, huh?”
“No, that’s not it. He still wants to see me and I want to see him more than ever now. I’m going to count on you, and hopefully him, to help keep me from going crazy these next few weeks, or months.”
“Look, whatever it is, tell me now. I’ve got the usual mess on my hands over here. And I’d be willing to bet that my mess is bigger than yours.”
“I don’t know about that.”
“Reed’s about to take his bath and he wants me to wash his back.”
“What’s so bad about that?”
“I’m never going to wean this man by doing shit like washing his back.”
“True. But you should have never stooped that low in the first place. Next thing you know, he’ll be asking you to wash his butt. Anyway, back to the reason I called.” My head was a
ching, bile was rising in my throat, and my tongue felt as if it were about to melt as I continued. “The most dreadful thing is about to happen to me since my daddy died.”
“Oh shit! Honey, what is it?”
“Libby and Jeffrey are having some home improvements done on their house. Bertha told me they’ll be staying with us for a while. Kevin, their teenager from hell too.”
I heard Joan let out a loud breath before she spoke again. “Girl, I’m going to pray for you.”
“I’m going to need more than prayers to survive living with Libby. I’d even be willing to use black magic if I knew a good witch doctor.”
“Oh shit again. How long of ‘a while’ do you think they’ll be staying?”