1 Night Stand

by Amaleka McCall

  Melody didn’t have even a minute to apply as much as a sheen of lip gloss to her lips before she heard the loud knocks on her door. Melody slid into her furry, high-heeled slippers, and as she hurried to the door, she tied the waist belt on her long, white silk kimono-style robe. She ran her hands over her hair and tucked the loose strands behind her ears. She cleared her throat.

  Before Melody could open the door, another round of knocks reverberated from the other side.

  “Okay, okay!” she yelled in response. Melody yanked the door open. Her doorman, Ralph, stood with his face contorted in disgust.

  “This guy says he’s your family?” Ralph droned, his white-gloved hand holding onto her visitor like he was contagious.

  Melody’s cheeks flamed over and her face immediately contorted into a frown.

  “What? What the—” Melody was dumbfounded.

  “Listen, I . . . I know I’m the last person you . . . suspect, I mean . . . expected to see,” Ron slurred, his words drifting out of his mouth on an alcohol-scented cloud. “But I . .. I . . . need to say some . . . some things to you.” Ron’s left pointer finger moved unsteadily in front of his face.

  “My God, Ron. You’re a mess,” Melody said, eyeing his twisted, untucked shirt and the big wet spot on the front of his pants. Ron could barely stand up on his own.

  “You are . . . you . . . fuck . . . fucked uh . . . up. Fucking up . . . my marriage,” Ron warbled.

  “You’re pissy drunk,” Melody said, fisting the material of her robe at the chest, frowning.

  “You can’t break up . . . no . . . break up my marriage with your stupid . . . tour,” Ron said, dribble running out the side of his mouth.

  “Ms. Love, I can call your security and have them come if you need me to. I can have him removed as well,” Ralph said, still holding onto to the collar of Ron’s shirt with one hand. With the other he held Ron’s jacket between his thumb and pointer finger, like it was contaminated.

  “No, no. Trust me, he’s not a threat. Look at him. He couldn’t harm a fly right now even if he wanted to. He just needs to dry out,” Melody replied, shaking her head.

  “You just need to get out. Get out . . . out . . . of my marriage,” Ron said indignantly.

  “Ron, just come inside and dry out. You’re not yourself right now,” Melody said evenly. She was not going to take his mess much longer.

  “No. I came to say . . . I love . . . love my wife. You can’t do this to uh . . . us.” Ron leaned forward toward Melody and almost fell.

  “Whoa!” Melody and Ralph both reacted at the same time, keeping Ron on his unsteady feet. Melody’s face reddened. She nodded at Ralph.

  “Thank you, Ralph. I’ll take it from here.”

  The doorman looked at her skeptically.

  “Honestly, it’s okay,” Melody assured.

  Ralph shrugged his shoulders and slowly released his grip on Ron. Melody stood aside as Ron staggered into her place.

  “I came here . . . here to give you . . . a piece of my . . . my. . . mind.” He almost hit the floor again.

  “Listen. Concentrate on staying on your feet.” Melody grabbed onto his arm and guided him to her white leather couch. She tossed his jacket down first then helped him onto the couch. Ron was mumbling something that Melody could barely understand.

  “Sit down. You are a complete mess right now.”

  “I . . . didn’t have any place left . . . I mean . . . else to go,” Ron garbled almost incoherently. “I . . . I didn’t . . . have anyone else to tell. She . . . hurt me. She . . . hurt me bad. You caused all . . . all of it.”

  Melody immediately wondered if he was talking about Harmony. Melody couldn’t imagine how Harmony would’ve let Ron out of her sight long enough for him to get like this. And how would Ron have ended up at her place, of all places?

  “Where are you coming from this time of the morning? A bar? A party?” Melody pressed as she retrieved a bottle of water from her wet bar fridge.

  Ron closed his eyes and lay back on Melody’s couch for a few minutes. His mouth hung open and his breathing was labored.

  “Does Harmony know where you are?” Melody inquired.

  Ron groaned.

  “What is going on, Ron? I mean, I don’t even know how you knew where to find me. I’m only here once in a while. With Ava’s death and all, of course I’m here this past week and a half. You come here in a complete mess, accusing me of doing something to your marriage, looking like you’ve been on a bender for a week, and, ew, smelling awful,” Melody said, waving her hand in front of her nose.

  Ron let out another low groan. Melody placed the cold bottle of water on Ron’s forehead. That got him to open his right eye a crack.

  “You probably need ten of these.” Melody held the water out in front of her.

  Ron looked like he couldn’t even find the strength to accept the bottle of water from her. Within seconds, his eyes were shut again.

  “I’m going to call Harmony,” Melody said, flustered.

  “No! Please. Don’t,” Ron shouted, the words falling heavily from his mouth. That had gotten his attention. Melody was startled by how adamant he was. Ron closed his eyes again and spoke.

  “She can’t know that I came to you. She . . . she can’t see me . . . like this.” Ron hiccupped a sob. “I wanted to fix it.”

  Melody rolled her eyes. Ron couldn’t make up his mind if he wanted to be a mad, confrontational drunk who had come there to give her a piece of his mind, or a sad, sobbing drunk who was so ashamed of his behavior that he was hiding from his wife.

  “I’m sure Harmony would understand what you’re going through right now. She’s your wife,” Melody said, her voice trailing off as she stared down at Ron’s gorgeous face. Melody tilted her head to the side and stared at him for a few long seconds. Something inside of her stirred. He might’ve been lying on her couch, dead to the world and drunk out of his mind now, but Melody had watched how he loved on Harmony at the funeral and back at the gathering.

  Melody had tried to get to know Ron at the repast, but he seemed a bit distant and resistant at first. He had finally started to open up slightly when they were interrupted by Lyric. Melody thought about what Lyric had said, and then she thought about what it would be like to have a man like Ron or a gorgeous little baby girl of her own.

  Melody stumbled back a few steps, dizzy with conflicted feelings. This man was her sister’s husband. He seemed to be the source of great happiness for her sister. He seemed to be the complete opposite of Sly. Melody wondered what made him come to her house.

  Ron snored so loudly. The sound snapped Melody out of her fantasy.

  “Oh my goodness.” She gasped, her hand flat over her racing heart. “No way. Stop it.” Melody quickly shook off the thoughts. She was different now. She didn’t want to hurt anyone, especially her sisters. She really wanted to try to be a family this time. But did they feel the same way about her? Did Harmony and Lyric really want to see her happy after Ava mistreated them to favor her? Melody had to guard her heart; she knew that. She couldn’t be weak, not even for the love of her sisters.

  Melody sighed. She set the water down at the side of the couch and rushed to her bedroom to retrieve her cell phone. Melody looked at Harmony’s number in her contacts list and went to press the button several times but stopped herself. Ron had asked her not to call Harmony. Melody didn’t really want to either.

  “That’s between them, Melody. Let him tell her.” Melody spoke to herself out loud.

  Melody rushed back into her living room, where Ron lay snoring like a grizzly bear, obviously in an alcohol induced coma-like sleep. Melody smiled for a few seconds. He was so damn cute, even with the piss stain on the front of his pants. She picked up her phone and snapped a few pictures of Ron, asleep on her couch.

  “Just in case,” Melody mumbled. “Just in case.”

  * * *

  It was six hours before Ron groaned awake and tried to open his eyes. Melody had already
showered, had her makeup artist Shannon come by to do her face, and her stylist Jetti to help her get dressed. She was flawless, as usual.

  “Finally.” Melody laughed, watching Ron slowly come into consciousness. His eyes were wild and dazed as he touched his chest and then his legs. Melody could see him struggling to recognize his surroundings.

  “You had a rough night,” Melody said as he struggled into a sitting position.

  Ron swiped his hands over his face and blinked rapidly. When his eyes finally came into focus, they went as wide as dinner plates. He opened his mouth to speak, but the words wouldn’t come. Ron blinked a few more times, as if he had to make sure that who he was seeing was actually there.

  “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.” Melody chuckled in response to the where-am-I, what-the-hell-am-I-doing-here look scribbled all over Ron’s face. “Well, I’m not a ghost. Just little old Melody Love here,” she said.

  Ron touched his chest and then his legs again. He looked at her.

  “Oh, if you’re looking for your clothes, they’re over there, folded on the floor next to you. I had them cleaned, because Lord knows between the sweat, the liquor, and the piss, you reeked so bad I couldn’t stand to have you in my living room,” Melody told him, crinkling her nose to drive home her point.

  “Oh God,” Ron grumbled, bracing himself on the edge of the couch. “How did . . . how did I—” He tried to stand, but his legs were like two wet noodles, and he fell right back down. “Oh God.” Ron whipped his head around like a little lost boy. “What? Where?”

  Melody was getting a kick out of seeing him so frantic. She swore she could see the vein in his neck pulsing even from a distance. She figured that must’ve meant that his heart was pounding.

  “I guess you went on a bender and some way, somehow, you found my address and ended up here. It surprised me too, but I wasn’t going to turn you away. I tried to call Harmony, but you wouldn’t hear anything of it, so I’ll leave the explaining up to you,” Melody said, smiling like she harbored a deep, dark secret. She purposely left out that Ron had come there to give her a piece of his mind.

  “Don’t you remember anything? Anything that happened?”

  Ron shook his head slowly and winced from the hangover headache. Fear danced in his eyes. He swiped his hand over his face several times again, as if he could make this all a nightmare. He put his palms on either side of his head and squeezed.

  “Oh God. What did I do?” Ron croaked. He got to his feet this time. His eyes were wild, like a child lost at an amusement park.

  “It’s not that bad, Ron. I mean, at least you didn’t end up in some strange woman’s bed.” Melody chuckled.

  Ron looked over at her, his eyebrows knitted together. “What? I mean, did anything . . . ” Ron started.

  Melody busted out laughing. “You really don’t remember anything, huh?”

  “I have to go,” he rasped, his throat and lips desert dry. “I have to get out of here.”

  Ron whirled around like he was caught at a fork in the road and couldn’t decide which way to go. He grabbed his clothes in a heap against his chest. He spun around, not knowing which piece to put on first. He almost fell trying to put on his pants.

  “Calm down. There’s no rush. You’ve already been gone past sunrise. I think you should have some food or at least black coffee before you try to navigate these New York streets,” Melody replied, shrugging like it was no big deal. “I can have Milly whip you up a quick meal, something healthy that will be good for the hangover I see playing out on your face. I mean, you were really a mess.”

  “No, no, that’s okay. I’m fine,” Ron said, panicking. He slid his shirt on in a hurry. “Did I have my . . . um . . . ” Ron asked, patting his back pocket.

  “Your wallet? No, I haven’t seen it. When you arrived you were in pretty bad shape. I mean, you still look green around the gills, but much better than earlier this morning.”

  “Fuck! What time is it?”

  Melody laughed. “It’s ten o’clock in the morning, silly. Lucky for you this is the time I usually get up and head out to rehearsals. I mean, I was so shocked you showed up here at four o’clock in the morning. I would never turn you away, but I was shocked nonetheless. I don’t think you could ever imagine how shocked I was. You coming to see me,” Melody rambled.

  “Fuck!” Ron shouted, cutting her off. “I can’t believe this. I have to go,” Ron said, snatching his jacket and rushing for the door.

  “Okay, but my breakfast offer still stands,” Melody told him.

  “Thank you, but I really have to go,” he said, shrugging into his jacket. “Harmony is going to be worried sick. I can’t believe I—Oh my God. Harmony,” Ron huffed, clutching his chest like just saying his wife’s name was going to make his heart explode.

  Melody’s stomach dropped at his mention of Harmony’s name. Melody walked Ron to the door. Before she opened it, he turned to face her.

  “I’m sorry for intruding on you. I don’t even know what made me come here or how or—I mean ... I . . . I was out of my mind. I . . . I’m really—Please don’t tell,” Ron stammered.

  In one swift move, Melody boldly crushed her mouth over his, her tongue sending his words tumbling back down his throat.

  “Mmm,” Ron moaned.

  His body stiffened, and he jumped back and pushed Melody away like she had bitten him.

  Melody jumped too. She didn’t know what had gotten into her. She put the back of her left hand against her mouth and lowered her head in shame.

  “I didn’t mean to. I . . . I know you’re—” Melody stuttered, her heart pounding so hard she felt nauseous.

  What are you doing? What are you thinking?

  “I have to go,” Ron said for the final time.

  He snatched the door open and hurried out, still staggering. Melody stood in the doorway and watched him race toward the elevator. She felt like her insides were being run through a meat grinder. Melody hadn’t wanted something or someone so badly since the days when she had longed for fame and fortune.

  “Ron!” she called out to him.

  He froze and looked over his shoulder. His eyes were wide and wild, like he was looking back at his worst nightmare.

  “There’s a reason you ended up here in your drunken state. Remember, the drunk mind is the true mind,” Melody proclaimed.

  Ron whipped his head around and raced to the elevators.

  “Maybe you were thinking about me,” Melody murmured as she watched until he disappeared. She stepped back inside of her loft and closed the door. She leaned back against the door and closed her eyes.

  “He’s not yours, Melody. He can’t be yours. He belongs to her. He belongs to your sister.”

  Chapter 15

  Lyric

  Lyric held her left nostril closed as she used her right nostril to inhale the small mound of white powder laid out on a pocket mirror in front of her.

  “Whew!” She flinched as the drugs hit her system. Her eyes snapped shut by themselves, and her body went limp for a few seconds. Lyric slumped over, nearly kissing the floor.

  “Hey. Hey, be easy on this shit, girl,” Lyric’s friend Kim said, grabbing Lyric before she face-planted.

  “Damn,” Lyric huffed. “That is the shit!”

  “I told you.” Kim laughed. “This is premium. Not that stepped-on shit you and Rebel are used to. Now be easy because this is not to be messed with,” Kim said as she stepped between the little mountain of white powder and Lyric.

  “I’m a pro.” Lyric waved her off. “Let me hit that again. That shit is better than sex and chocolate and chocolate and sex.” Lyric laughed and pranced around.

  She opened her eyes and looked in the mirror. She finally liked what she saw. Lyric flipped the long side of her hair and rubbed the lipstick off of her teeth. “I’m ready for the next one.” Lyric loved how she felt: invincible, beautiful, happy. She’d finally found that high again.

  “Lyric, I’m telling you, gir
l. You have to get used to the kick of this shit. You can’t be blowing through it. You’re a lightweight when it comes to this straight-off-the-boat product. Take one more quick sniff and that’s it. I mean it,” Kim warned. “I am not trying to pick your ass up off the floor or be in the damn morgue,” Kim joked.

  “You worry too much, girlie. We came to have a good time. Shit, if I end up in the morgue, at least you can stand up at my funeral and say, ‘That bitch went out hiiigh as a motherfucker,’” Lyric replied, raising her hands above her head for emphasis.

  Kim laughed. She had been Lyric’s friend for six years, and she had watched Lyric’s entire life change, not for the better. Lyric had told Kim all about how the singing group had broken up and how Lyric desperately wanted to still be famous, but Lyric had never told Kim everything that she was battling inside.

  “One more. Dead ass,” Kim said sternly, stepping aside to give Lyric access to their little party stash.

  “One more,” Lyric acquiesced. “I promise. Just one more.” That was the famous drug addict line—it was always just one more, or one last hit.

  This time Lyric held her right nostril closed and vacuumed up the powder with her left nostril. When the tiny line of white powder was all gone, Lyric threw her head back and shook her shoulders. The pure, uncut cocaine hit her central nervous system with a bang. Lyric saw colorful fireworks erupting behind her eyelids. This was better than any heroin high she’d had in years.

  Lyric’s drug addiction had taken on a life of its own over the years. It had started with the pills Andrew Harvey fed her every time she was forced to be with him. At first, Lyric tried to resist, but she quickly learned that the pills made it and him easier to deal with. Then, after he died with his dick inside of her, Lyric had graduated to using heroin. Her first time was with Rebel. When that high wasn’t strong enough for her to escape reality anymore, Lyric began mixing things and using whatever she could get—alcohol, pills, meth, cocaine and/or heroin. Lyric didn’t care so long as she didn’t have to feel any pain. So long as she didn’t have to live with reality.

  Lyric let out a high-pitched squeak and cackled somewhat maniacally. Her head hung down until her chin was touching her neck, causing her hair to spill forward wildly. She could feel the vibration from the club’s music pounding in her chest. Lyric felt good.