Jordan and Jayon would just chill and watch movies, take Jason to the park and get on the rides, too; they would have picnics and play board games—she felt like a teenager again, except better. There were a lot of nights when they did absolutely nothing. They would just be in the same room but in their own worlds. She would be briefing a case or reviewing a contract, and he would be on the other side of the room with a calculator and paperwork. Although they weren’t interacting, just having his presence in the room was all she needed.
Ever since she and Jayon had become more than friends, they’d gone out on a few double dates here and there with close friends of theirs and family. It was actually a little funny, because sometimes people would still make comments and treat them as if they were still just friends and colleagues. Some people would, understandably, forget that they had made the switch from time to time and bring up uncomfortable topics. One time one of Jayon’s associates tried to hit on Jordan right in front of him—it was weird but she and Jay found it kind of humorous. So Jayon played along, saying things like, Yeah, she is hot—right, and She just got back on the market. Jordan could have killed him; instead she just laughed it off and declined the offer. She should have fixed his butt and taken the number and set a date, all while he stood and watched—then see how many more jokes he would have had. They had become used to that kind of stuff, though, people asking her about Omar right in front of Jayon, people bringing up old memories and girls that Jay wanted to bang, right in front of her. Jay’s friends were the funniest—they had been used to her being just Jay’s homie for so long, it took a little adjusting for them to treat her as his girlfriend now. Really, it seemed to be quite weird for a few of them. There was Linston, and Jalil, and then there was his friend Horatio, who she just loved. He was so cool and funny, and he was always the one to have a joke about her and Jayon’s supposed friendship. He would say that they had been sneaking around on the low all of these years. It was funny how some of them hesitated to bring up hot girls on TV or chicks they dealt with without giving Jordan a look. She wanted them to behave just as they had around her for years—she was still Jay’s homie at the end of the day.
She remembered the day that she realized what had her so stuck where she was. She remembered realizing for the first time that this relationship with Jayon was a breath of fresh air. They were sitting at Seafood City in City Island, and the sun was beaming down upon them. It was a beautiful day, and the first day in a long time that Jordan had found the time to put everything to the side and relax. It was she, Jayon, his brother Ramar, and his fiancée Veronica. The four of them hadn’t hung out together in quite some time, and had planned to do this for weeks. When they were out with Ramar and Veronica, it felt like this was the way things were meant to be all along. The four of them talked about good times, love, relationships, and just the lighter side to life. They always had good conversations when they went out. It was normal for Veronica and Jordan to be on one side, Jayon and Ramar on the other. They had been doing this for years, and it was just that much funnier now that Jay and Jordan were an item.
“I never said that a guy can’t be friends with a girl—I’m just saying to guys, ass is ass,” Veronica defended.
They were in the middle of a friendly debate. Veronica and Ramar had a short friendship before they hooked up, so we were commenting on where the line was.
“You were checking for me first,” Ramar responded.
“Whatever,” she replied. “You guys just wait for us to get weak so you can pounce.”
“That’s not true. I was friends with this crazy chick for over a decade—she was always having some kind of emotional breakdown, and I never pounced on her,” Jayon interjected.
“Shut up,” Jordan said, slapping him on his leg.
“It’s true, though. If I was waiting, I would have given up,” he added.
“Well, maybe not literally waiting, but a female friend is not off limits in your mind,” she said.
“Well, not in y’all’s minds, either, ’cause y’all are right along with us when it goes down,” Ramar added.
“That’s when we are vulnerable, and we are usually blinded by all your evil plotting—we fall for the charm,” Jordan added with a laugh.
“Please, don’t even go there, because you wanted me since freshman year of college,” Jayon said to her.
Everyone started laughing. “Whatever,” she said, pushing him. “I was not ... I was taken, and you took out your lawn chair and tent and started waiting in line ever since.”
“Yeah, OK,” he replied.
“From the day you came into the school bookstore to buy those aspirins, and I was working there and you sparked that long conversation with me—you were on a mission.”
“OK. If that’s the story that makes you sleep better at night,” he said, laughing.
They sat outside for hours, drinking and talking. Jordan was on her third pina colada, Veronica on her fourth Miami Vice. Jayon and Ramar were on their fourth Strawberry Yaquiri, a strawberry daiquiri made with Hennessy, which was a new concoction they came up with that they thought was the best thing since sliced bread. There was this man playing his radio real loud by the bar, entertaining the Seafood City patrons with Latin music. The sun was setting and the view looking out onto the water was absolutely beautiful. Jordan just sat there, looking out at the beautiful scenery, and she thought to herself, This is what life is about. She had spent the past few years trying to be all that she could be, and hadn’t stopped to smell the roses. She rarely spent days like this where she was able to stop and watch the sun set. The rare days she put work aside, she was trying to make up at home to her husband and son. Time for herself felt selfish. She was thankful to Jayon for reminding her of the true meaning of life. At that moment she felt guilty that she couldn’t have had that with Omar—that’s all he really wanted from her. With him, he became another aspect of her busy schedule; he was another responsibility, so it was hard to see it with him. With her son staying with Omar, and spending her time with Jayon, it was the first time she was really able to see. She liked what she saw.
91
Wake Up ... DREAM OVER
Things hadn’t been the same since that night that Tony said that. He apologized a few times, and Dakota pretended to be cool. There was no erasing what he said, and maybe it was her raging hormones, but she was convinced he’d said that from the heart.
Tony didn’t want to have to be a part of her life any more than she wanted to have to give up her shape and her freedom. He was going along, trying to do the right thing, but this baby was not something he wanted. She knew that early on, but she allowed his recent behavioral changes to cloud her vision. She guessed she really believed her having a boy was enough to make their dysfunctional relationship whole. Boy, was she wrong.
They spent the next week and a half going through the motions. Tony still stayed over three nights that week, but it wasn’t the same. It was obvious his mind was somewhere else, and it was also pretty damn clear that Dakota had a slight attitude. She wasn’t intentionally holding a grudge—it was just hard for her to forget about that night. The two phones, calling Jonelle, and then that comment. It was like the straw that broke the camel’s back, except she internalized it. She hadn’t yelled or cursed Tony out yet. She just made a mental note that made her heart that much less accessible to him—not that he was trying to get in. She knew that their set up wouldn’t last. That the good times were over, her fantasy of what they could be, was now a harsh reality of what they actually were. Chances were when this baby was born, if they made it to then, they wouldn’t deal with each other anymore. It would be just about the baby. She was fine with that, too, because she was just about fed up with Tony.
Dakota was lying in her bed and hadn’t heard from Tony all day—she figured this was one of the nights he wouldn’t be staying over. Lately she was actually happy to be alone. She was able to just lie out, look a hot mess, even be a little funky if she wanted to.
She would just lay her oversized butt all over the bed—she didn’t have to worry about lying in a position where her rolls weren’t showing, or her legs didn’t look too big. She was free to be her, all 180 pounds of her.
Lying down watching some old reruns of Martin, it just so happened that one of her favorite episodes was on. She was sitting up with her back against the cushion headboard, sipping hot cocoa. She did have a few calls that she needed to make to some clients, but she was feeling too lazy and decided to get to them later. She was right in the middle of a hearty laugh at this scene where Pam was hypnotized and she was imitating old Marty Mar, when her house phone rang. She was still mid-laugh when she answered without checking the Caller ID.
“Hello,” she answered.
“Hello,” the voice on the other end said.
Her smile immediately faded. It was a female voice, and she wasn’t sure who it was, but she knew she didn’t recognize the voice as a friendly one.
“Yeah, who is this?” she asked.
“This is Jonelle ... listen, I’m not calling to argue. I just want to know if Tony is there.”
Dakota hesitated for a few seconds, debating whether to be the evil bitch she could be and say yes just to piss her off, or be a real sister and let her know, no, girlfriend, tonight he is probably with chick number three. Instead she just replied, “No, Jonelle, he is not here.”
“Is he supposed to be coming there?”
Now she was pushing it. Dakota was trying to be nice, but she could only be so nice. Still, she thought to herself, once this baby is born, this woman and I are probably going to have so much in common we will be the best of friends. Let me be the bigger person.
“I don’t think so, not that I know of,” she answered.
Jonelle paused for a second, then responded, “Are you telling the truth?”
OK, that was it. Did this chick not see that Dakota didn’t owe her anything? She could have hung up on her or hurt her damn feelings, but she didn’t. Then she is going to ask Dakota if she’s lying.
“Jonelle, I don’t have to lie to you ... I don’t even have to answer you. I’m trying to be nice, and you gonna imply I’m lying?”
“Nice? Nice? What is nice about you fucking my man?”
Oh, souky-souky now. No, she didn’t go there. See, this is why we black sisters can’t stick together.
“If he is your man, then why the hell you calling me, asking for him?”
“ ’Cause you trifling, money-hungry hoes can’t just stay in your lane ...”
“What?—First of all, I got my own got damn money, don’t get me twisted with these other skanks your man been screwing around on you with! Secondly, what you fail to realize is you worried about the hoes he is with and ain’t worried about him. We can’t stay in our lane if he lets us drive where we want to go.”
She was about to take this bitch to school.
“Whatever, but if you know he has a woman, why y’all dealing with him?”
“First of all, it ain’t no ‘y’all.’ I deal with him because he is damn good in bed; secondly, I don’t know he has a woman. He has a baby mother ... and now there’s two of us,” Dakota asserted.
She knew she’d pissed Jonelle off with that, and that was her intention. Don’t be calling my house with this nonsense and think that it’s going to go in your favor. Now, when I start playing myself making phone calls to people, then that’s different, she thought to herself. Until then, I am still D.D., as they used to call me in college—Dakota Diva, and that won’t change.
“You’re his baby mama, I’m his fiancée.”
“Well, you need to get him a damn ring for his finger, because otherwise no one can tell, ’cause he damn sure don’t admit to it.”
Dakota could tell she was breaking her down. The good girl can’t win in this situation. Dakota couldn’t be hurt because she knew her place; Jonelle was fighting a losing battle. She was the one that had to find stuff out from Dakota; she was the one who was supposed to have him, but yet Dakota was having his child. At least she was able to know Tony for what he was. Jonelle was the one being deceived—well, a lot more than Dakota was. Then, at least for the moment, she was happy she wasn’t the lied-to one, the one in the dark. It didn’t seem so special now.
“Whatever, bitch ... you know that he is engaged and you’re just sloppy seconds.”
“Well, now that I know, I’ll let him know for you as well, so he can act accordingly—but I have to go now because I’m watching television. But I’ll be sure to let your man know you’re looking for him.”
That was that.
She sat there feeling real good about herself for a minute. Like she was an outfielder for the Red Sox, and had just hit a home run against the Yankees, she was feeling herself. She went to call Jordan and Chrasey but neither answered her phone so she left them messages. She was tickled for a while after the hang-up, until she started to think about some of what Jonelle said. “Sloppy seconds,” “you’re his baby mama—I’m his fiancée.” She didn’t want to acknowledge it, but to an extent she had lowered herself to expect very little. The diva in her was supposed to demand enough respect that she would be married or at least engaged to the man she was pregnant by.
Dakota used to drop men like hot potatoes—they did one thing against regulation, and she was terminating their butts. She was just so fly, and she knew it, that she wasn’t accepting less than best. Men knew that the opportunity to be with her was one of a lifetime, and if it wasn’t treasured, then there was a problem. Cheating? Forget about it. Never would she tolerate such a thing. She wanted to be wined and dined, romanced and financed; she was a diva, dammit. That was cute in college and post-college, but after a while, as she got older, that D.D. thing wasn’t working out the same. Men weren’t wanting to hear all of that all of the time, and over time she didn’t expect them to. She lowered her standards and started to accept more. She didn’t plan it, it just started to happen. There came a time when she started to realize she was getting older, and if she ever wanted a shot at growing old with someone, she’d better act like she knew. She guessed she had come to that point unconsciously and unwillingly, but she was there.
Either way, if only a little bit, the old Dakota Diva still lived on, ’cause she made damn sure Jonelle regretted calling with that bullshit tonight.
92
Guilty Conscience
It was his birthday, September 6, and he was turning 34 years old today. This was the first September 6 that Jordan hadn’t spent with him in fourteen years. She felt empty, guilty. Omar hadn’t called her in months, and none of her calls mattered because he ignored them. She heard from his best friend, who told her that Omar was hurt and really pissed that she would choose another man over their marriage. He said that in his mind, she was dead to him. She didn’t know what hurt more, the fact that he wanted her dead or knowing he had killed her himself.
She called anyway. To no surprise, he didn’t answer. She left a quick, simple message: “Happy birthday Omar. I just wanted you to know that I am thinking about you on your birthday. I hope your day is happy—you deserve it.”
She hung up the phone and hung her head low. She had been reduced to generic birthday calls with the man she was supposed to have spent the rest of her life with. Her life had become one big, emotional roller coaster. It had become almost impossible for her to be completely happy with Jayon when their relationship was riddled with guilt.
Everybody who knew them both seemed to wonder if Jayon and Jordan were having an affair all along. Family of Omar’s just thought she was a complete whore bag, and even some of her friends felt that she gave Omar a bad deal. Then there were those who thought she and Jayon were like a fairy tale come true, and Omar was to blame for the marriage’s demise and that she had every right to be happy. She didn’t know what she felt anymore. Some days she felt like Omar should never have treated her so terribly and things would never have been able to change between her and Jayon. She couldn’t help
what her heart felt. Yes, she loved Omar with all her heart, but the pain and misery caused her to ward her feelings off to be able to get through what he was doing to her. It wasn’t her fault that he waited until it was too late to come to his senses. As for Jayon, he was just being the friend he had always been. She believed in her heart that Jayon would never have disrespected her relationship with Omar, and that day last year when he was drunk at the office he truly did regret. Jayon was an honorable man and he, too, felt terrible about Omar. He had even told her once or twice that she should give Omar another chance, and he would understand and would have no hard feelings. It seemed like a kind offer, but it wasn’t just about hurting Jayon. She didn’t love Omar anymore in that way. He’d hurt her for the last time, and she was truly happy with Jayon. She wasn’t putting her happiness second to Omar’s on this one. She might forever regret it if she did.
93
Pot Calling the Kettle Black
Chrasey was waiting on a call from her supervisor—he was supposed to be giving her the outline for a meeting he’d called. So, as she prepared herself and the kids for the next day, she kept an ear out for the phone.
She had ironed the kids’ clothes for tomorrow, made their lunches, given them their baths, and gotten them ready for bed. When she was done with them, she went ahead and looked for something for her to wear. She had to put a little more effort into it since they were having a meeting—she hated meetings because she always felt like she had nothing to wear. It didn’t help that she gained some of her weight back—everything she put on, she felt fat in.
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