Diva Diaries

by Janine A. Morris

  Her frustration with her husband had her feeling a lot more spunky than normal, though.

  So, she answered, “My name is Chrasey, and I’m not sure how old you think I am, but I am 34 years old, and I am really not into children.”

  The young man, not even looking offended or fazed by her response, said in return, “Well, my name is Trevor and I’m not sure how old you think I am, but I’m 27 years old and I am far from a child, so it looks like me and you may have a bright future.”

  Not being able to help but smile, Chrasey reached over and shook Trevor’s hand.

  “My apologies, Trevor. It’s just that I am waiting on my husband to pick me up from work and he is forty minutes late, and I am really in a bad mood.”

  “He is picking you up at the bus stop? That’s kind of weird,” Trevor said jokingly.

  “No, he picks me up in front of my job, but I don’t feel like waiting anymore so I am going to take the bus if it comes before he gets here.”

  “You have so little faith in him, you must not think he is coming at all ... or he has done this before, because you seem to have no patience,” Trevor said.

  Chrasey just gave him a look, like don’t get me started.

  “Maybe something happened, and he got held up,” Trevor continued.

  It’s like some man thing, like the police’s blue code of silence. All men, regardless of how little they know a man, must defend other men. It’s like the dogs’ secret bark.

  “He has done this before. I have heard every excuse in the book, trust me.”

  Just as Trevor started to respond, after scrambling for a clever comeback, she saw Keith’s black Jetta pull up at her workplace.

  “There he goes ... nice talking to you,” Chrasey said as she gave Trevor a slight wave and hurried down the street.

  Halfway back down Stewart Avenue, her cell phone rang. Of course it was Keith calling because he didn’t see her standing in front. She didn’t even bother to answer—she was only steps away from the back of the car. By the third ring she was walking around the side opening the door and getting in.

  “Where were you?” he said as soon as she sat down in the car.

  “Keith, don’t you dare. Where were you is the question.” She looked him right in the face.

  “I was caught late in a meeting at work,” he replied with his already prepared excuse.

  “You couldn’t call, Keith? You knew I would be out here waiting.”

  “By the time I got out of the meeting, I just rushed here.”

  “Whatever, Keith, let’s just go,” she said, frustrated by his lame excuse.

  As Keith made his U-turn to go down the block, Chrasey noticed Trevor was still standing at the bus stop down by the corner. As Keith proceeded down the block, Chrasey glanced over at the bus stop in Trevor’s direction. He was already looking at Chrasey when she turned her face, and as soon as she made eye contact he smiled and winked. Feeling like the moment seemed to be in slow motion, she gave him a sweet smile and turned away.

  It was then that Chrasey took in just how fine Trevor really was. He stood about six-two, 205 pounds. He was brown-skinned, with a round face. He had a slight dimple in his left cheek, and a narrow nose with a few dark-brown freckles. He had pretty, light-brown eyes, with perfectly trimmed eyebrows. He was a good-looking young man, surprisingly handsome. If she had just seen him walking by on the street, she would think he was out of her league—not that she was looking. As she realized that this fine young man had showed interest in her, and thinking she looked a hot mess as usual, she thought to herself maybe she needed to give herself a little more credit.

  Fifteen minutes after her moment with Trevor, Keith and Chrasey were just making it out of Long Island and back into Queens, heading home. First they had to stop off of Rockaway Boulevard to pick up the kids from Keith’s mother’s house. Once they reached home, it was business as usual.

  By day Chrasey was the director of TMHS Human Services Corporation. She ran the quality assurance department for the agency’s facilities for the developmentally disabled. She had been in this field since high school, and she had been promoted enough times to make her one of the field’s experts. By night she was supermom for her two kids, Kelsey and Quinton.

  Starting her normal routine, she began cooking dinner for the kids, helping them with their homework, and got them washed up and ready for bed. Kelsey was 5 and Quinton was 6, and between the two of them, Chrasey had her hands full at all times. With two small kids, she barely found time for herself, which made it hard to keep herself up as she would like. She was usually not dressed to impress and sometimes it was weeks before she made it to the hair or nail salon. Her normal outfit for a day was a pair of black Lycra work pants and a sweater or button-up with the same pair of black shoes. On weekends, she was a complete mess. She would wear sweatsuits that sometimes had a bleach stain or a hole or two, with an old pair of sneakers. She would pull her hair back in an unbrushed ponytail, and wear no makeup except maybe some lip gloss. Chrasey wore a lot of different-styled weaves, always halfway down her back. That was the one thing Chrasey didn’t play with—her weaves were always tight. The rest of her needed maintenance on a regular basis. Her kids, though, they were fresh from head to toe. They had taken all of her self-admiration and style away the day they were born.

  Her inability to put time into her looks only lowered her self-esteem and made it easier for her to tolerate Keith’s neglect. He barely needed to help with the kids because Chrasey did so much. It wasn’t as if he even tried to split the parental duties in the evening. The only time he would help is if Chrasey wasn’t home from work early enough to do it. He usually crawled onto the couch with his Heineken beer and started watching television. It didn’t dawn on him that she could use a break from time to time, even when she was home.

  Most nights Chrasey would just bite her tongue and feel a bit disturbed about her situation. At other times she would end up asking Keith a provocative question or just flat-out start an argument because he barely helped out. More times than most, she went the quiet route, just trying to keep peace in her house. However, on this specific evening, she was feeling a little better than usual about her situation. That young man at the bus stop made her feel attractive for the night.

  5

  Prince Charming

  The next day was Friday, Chrasey’s day had ended, and as usual she was ready for part two of her life’s work, her kids and her home. She came outside of the building to wait for Keith, and when she didn’t see him she walked to the snack shop a few feet away from her building’s front door. She ordered an iced tea, and as she waited for her change she glanced to make sure Keith wasn’t there yet. Once she was done with her purchase, she proceeded back to her waiting post, sipping on her drink. She heard a horn, looked around, and all she saw was a black BMW parked in front of her. Thinking it was intended for someone else, she paid it no mind and continued to wait.

  Then she heard someone call out, “Chrasey!”

  She turned and looked closer into the car. After she was able to make him out, she realized it was the young man from the bus stop yesterday.

  “Oh, hello there ... Trevor, right?” she said, faintly showing her excitement at seeing him again.

  “Yes, how was your day, Chrasey?” he said, trying to show he hadn’t forgotten her name, either.

  “I’m good, just got off work. I am waiting for my husband again ... what are you doing out here?”

  “Just waiting to pick someone up,” he replied with a serious face.

  “Oh, you know someone who works here?”

  “Yeah, this gorgeous lady I met yesterday. I wanted to be out here just in case she ran out of patience again waiting for her ride.”

  Now, Chrasey was a 34-year-old woman who had seen her share of chivalry and heard all types of game, and, she thought, almost every line in the book. Still, Trevor managed to impress her with his charm and pickup lines. For some reason there was something abo
ut Trevor and his smoothness that was getting to her.

  “Stop playing, Trevor. You are waiting for your girlfriend or something, out here trying to make me blush. You better get on your way before you get in trouble,” she said quickly, trying to disguise her thoughts.

  “No, I’m not. I really came back to check on you ... and I don’t have a girlfriend, to answer your question. If I did, I wouldn’t be here regardless of how beautiful you are ...”

  Chrasey didn’t say anything—she just looked at him and gave him an expression that read, you’re good.

  “Honestly, I’m here because I got off work early today to get my car out the shop, and I couldn’t help but try my luck and see if you were left out here again,” he continued.

  “Oh, so my pain—your gain!” she said, smiling.

  “Well, I was hoping it could be both of our gain.”

  Chrasey just laughed. “Good one,” she said.

  After fifteen more minutes of waiting and chatting, Trevor convinced Chrasey to tell her husband she got tired of waiting and took the bus. He promised to take her straight home—he just wanted a few moments to talk to her without her looking over her shoulder the whole time.

  Chrasey knew better than to get in the car with strangers and all those rules every woman is to follow. But something about Trevor’s angelic baby face made her feel like she was safe with him. She told him he would have to drop her off at the bus stop by her house in case her husband was already home, and she didn’t want him to know where she lived. He agreed, and at 5:25 off they went.

  “So, do you do this knight in shining armor skit for all the girls you meet?” said Chrasey.

  Laughing, Trevor replied, “No, just the ones who look like they need my help.”

  “I am not in need of any help, especially not from another male. All of you are problems waiting to happen.”

  “So, are you saying you are about to switch to the other side?”

  “No, I’m just saying I can do badly by myself.”

  “So, you are doing badly? That means you can use some help.”

  “Listen, I am happily married. Like all couples, we have our issues ... he works a lot.”

  “So your relationship has issues because he works a lot? I find that hard to believe.”

  “No, it’s a lot of things. But we are fine. Is that why you picked me up from work? You wanted to help me out because my husband was a few minutes late yesterday. You figured I was your good deed for the week.”

  “Not at all, Chrasey. Just something about you really stuck with me for the rest of the day, and I had to see if I could get the chance to get to know you.”

  “So, what’s with the whole husband interrogation?”

  “We don’t have to discuss anything you don’t want to discuss. I just found it odd that you said you were happily married, because you’re sitting here with me.”

  He must have made a strong point, because Chrasey had no reply, just silence.

  6

  Rise and Shine

  As Dakota slowly opened her eyes, she looked over to the other side of her queen-size bed and noticed David, fast asleep.

  She immediately jumped up and eased further away from the side of the bed he was lying on. She must have had too many glasses of wine, because she couldn’t believe she’d allowed him to sleep over. Lucky for her, Tony hadn’t called or come over.

  After about ten seconds of thought, Dakota got out of the bed and went to the bathroom. After she brushed her teeth, she looked in the mirror and noticed her hair was a mess. She hadn’t wanted to wrap it the night before because it would have ruined her sex appeal. Her hair was evidence of a wild night with David; she picked up a brush and began to fix it. One thing Dakota never felt comfortable with was letting a man see her first thing in the morning. She wasn’t insecure, but she wasn’t quite as secure with just the raw Dakota ... stank breath, ruffled hair, crusty eyes, hoarse-voiced Dakota Watkins. The “morning” Dakota didn’t have quite as much sex appeal. So, it became her ritual that any time a guy slept over, when she woke up she would slightly fix herself before engaging in any type of interaction with him. Not too much fixing up, but just enough to look like she even woke up beautiful.

  After she finished flattening her hair back down, wiping her face with a wet washcloth, and brushing her teeth, Dakota started back toward the bedroom. As she reached the doorway, David had just finished his morning stretch.

  “Hey, beautiful,” he slurred.

  “Good morning.”

  She lay back down beside him and gently kissed him on his cheek.

  “Did you sleep well?” he asked.

  “Yes, how about you?”

  “Well, I must say you put me to sleep quite nicely.”

  She smiled, and rolled over toward him. “Well, how about I wake you up just as nicely?” she said in a seductive tone.

  “Mmm, that sounds good to me.”

  Just as Dakota begin to guide her hand under the sheets, her cute little Sony cordless phone rang. “Hold that thought,” she said. She reached over and checked the Caller ID. It was Chrasey. Calling at 10:00 A.M. on a Saturday morning, it had to be something either real important or real juicy. Tempted not to interrupt David, but curious to know what Chrasey wanted, she answered the phone.

  “Yes, my dear. You better be calling me for a good reason this early in the morning,” Dakota said.

  “I don’t need a good reason to call you. Besides, 10:00 A.M. is far from early on a Saturday morning for a woman with kids. Just because you have no one to wake you up at the crack of dawn ...”

  “Don’t assume,” Dakota said with a hint of bad girl in her voice.

  “What ... you have company over there? Tony finally showed his sorry behind up?”

  “Yes and no.”

  “Yes, and no? What, someone else is there?”

  “Yeah. I was a little busy—can I call you back in about—”

  David interrupted Dakota. “Go ahead and talk. I will go and cook breakfast.”

  After a moment’s hesitation, she responded, “OK, I will be in the kitchen soon.”

  “Mmm-hmm. And who is that?” Chrasey said.

  “Girl, you all messing up my groove.”

  “I will let you go, you little freak.”

  “No, he is going in the kitchen to make breakfast.”

  “Who is he?”

  “Remember that guy David I told you about a while ago?”

  “The cutie you used to work with?”

  “Yeah, him. Well, he came by to cook dinner last night and—”

  “Cooking dinner and breakfast—he sounds like a keeper.”

  Dakota couldn’t help but laugh. “Tell me about it, girl. And he put it on me last night ...”

  “Don’t even tell me—it’s been way too long for me, and I am tired of living vicariously through you,” Chrasey said.

  Dakota loved being the single one sometimes, getting to still be a black Carrie from Sex in the City, while her two close girlfriends were married with kids. These were the times it didn’t depress her. She knew these were the times that being married was a bore compared to her life.

  She called Jordan on three-way, so she could have her moment. Dakota described pretty much blow for blow how David showed up, cutting short her night of depression. How he cooked dinner, served dessert with champagne, kicked back and watched a Lifetime movie with her, and waited for Dakota to make the first move. It was perfect. As soon as the move was made, though, he took over like a champ.

  About twenty minutes into the phone call, Dakota, Chrasey, and Jordan had all shared their juice from their previous nights of drama. Dakota told them all about David’s skills in bed, and how bad she felt at first because he was just some rebound sex because of Tony’s no-show. She felt bad until Chrasey reminded her how Tony still hadn’t shown up or called, so she did what she had to. Chrasey told them both about her new friend Trevor, and how she gave him her number.

  After Jordan
reprimanded her for being a married woman giving her number out, Chrasey explained, “It’s just something about him.”

  Jordan took the exchange of gossip as her opportunity to get what happened with Jayon off her chest.

  “Are you serious?” Dakota yelped.

  “I wish I wasn’t,” Jordan said.

  “I knew he never stopped wanting you. He was probably pissed you and Omar had gotten back together when you guys were in grad school,” Dakota said.

  “Well, I don’t know what to do now. I don’t even think I can face him. I haven’t even told Omar yet,” Jordan said.

  “Don’t tell him that, Jordan. You are just going to start something for nothing. Keep this one to yourself,” Dakota advised.

  After Chrasey agreed, Jordan explained, “I can’t do that. I wouldn’t want Omar to keep something like that from me. Besides, what if something big comes from this—how can I explain it to Omar after the fact.”

  Chrasey said, “You are right. Do what you feel is best. But I ain’t telling Keith a damn thing about Trevor.”