by Nikki Rashan
Her story reminded me of my dad.
“It’s funny,” she added, “because here I am, a young black woman without a degree, hiring Bill and Tom into management positions. Some of my coworkers aren’t happy that they spent four years at a university and yet we have the same position. But I’ve been there ten years and earned my position. I put a lot of work into that place for myself and for Jaron.”
Her eyes seemed to twinkle every time she said her son’s name. I examined every inch of her face as she continued to talk. She was a very pretty woman with honey-colored skin that sprinkled a handful of toasted freckles around her nose. Her almond-shaped eyes were a piercing light brown that sparkled in the sunlight and widened when she spoke intensely. She had long, dark eyelashes that even Twiggy, the most famous supermodel of the 1960s, would envy. Beneath her red lip-lined pouty lips was a set of straight white teeth that I assumed only braces could have perfected. Her hair was a wavy texture that she wore pulled back in a ponytail that hung down her back. Being slightly taller than me and with a body you’d think she paid for, she easily could have graced the cover of Vogue.
She must have asked me a question because her silence and stare brought me out of my trance.
“I’m sorry, Stephanie, what did you say?” I blinked.
She didn’t answer, only smiled and continued to stare at me. I didn’t know what to say and her stare made my stomach flip like I had just gone down the steepest roller coaster in the world. I was grateful when the waitress arrived and interrupted the unusual exchange. I dug into my casserole, a little embarrassed, and kept my eyes lowered for at least a minute. She eventually broke the silence.
“So, what do you do, Kyla?” she asked.
“Well, nothing like you, that’s for sure,” I answered. “I work in the women’s department at Newtons. I’ve been doing that since high school and I think I’ve been there longer than most everyone. I don’t know how many people make careers as a department store clerk.”
“You’re doing what you have to do to make a change, so don’t even worry about how long you’ve been there,” she encouraged me. “It won’t be forever. But, in the meantime, can a girl use that discount of yours?” she teased.
I smiled. “Do you know how many times I’ve been asked that question?” I thought for a moment while looking into her warm eyes. “But for you, I think I’ll make an exception.”
“Why, thank you,” she said, grinning. “So can I get that piece of bacon now?”
“How much do you want from me?” I laughed. “Here,” I said, breaking off a piece of casserole with a chunk of bacon and placing it on her plate. “Is that good?”
Stephanie quickly ate the bite. “Tasty,” she said with a light, playful smack of her lips. “Much better than the muffin.”
“Next time order some real food then, okay?”
“Oh, so you’ll have me for breakfast again?” she said, smirking.
What? “Um, yeah, I mean, sure,” I stammered. “We can go out to eat again,” I said, smiling inside, unsure why.
“Wonderful,” she responded. She finished her muffin, and I devoured the rest of my casserole.
“Thanks for letting me join you,” she said after the bill arrived and we each placed our money on the table. “I’m off on Mondays so I have to get back to school for my afternoon class. How many other classes do you have?”
“One more on Wednesday mornings.”
“Okay, well, I’ll see you next week.”
“I’ll be there,” I said.
“Bye, Kyla.”
“Have a good week, Steph. Can I call you Steph?”
“Girl, that’s fine.”
“Take care,” I said as we walked to our separate cars, mine parked along the side of the restaurant, hers directly opposite mine with our rears facing each other.
I sat in my car and began to touch up my make-up. I stopped, though, to watch Steph through my rearview mirror. She picked up her cell phone, listened intently for a moment, and then ended the call. Suddenly, she looked in her rearview mirror right back at me. I looked away quickly, then felt silly, so I looked back and waved. She waved back, put her car in reverse and pulled up next to my Camry. I lowered my power window.
“Hey, if you ever want to talk about class, give me a call,” Steph said and then handed me her business card with her home number written on the back.
“I’ll do that,” I replied, placing the card in my purse.
She flashed those brilliant pearlies again and drove off. I smiled as well as I finished applying my lipstick. She seemed like cool people. I thought it would be nice to have someone close to my age in class. Usually the women were young, eighteen to twenty, or much older than me, fresh out of a divorce or returning to school after the kids moved out of the house. Steph was a definite welcome relief.
3
Jeff and I were sitting in Tori’s restaurant with Vanessa and Roger. We usually spend Friday nights with our friends, winding down from the work week and getting pepped up for the weekend. It’s kind of routine, like Tori’s, Vanessa’s, and my Monday morning workout sessions, but the difference is that I truly enjoy this time together. The only workout I get here is raising my right arm to lift my glass and bring it to my thirsty lips.
The place was packed as usual, filled with everybody, from colleagues still socializing after work to those getting ready to hit the clubs. But our girl had reserved a table just for us, up front, of course. She planned to join us with her booty-call friend from the club after she finished up behind the scenes in the office. I couldn’t wait to see this dude, even though I figured he’d be just another smooth-talking, mack daddy fella that we’d become accustomed to as her date.
“So, Ky, how was your first week of classes?” Roger asked me.
“Not too bad,” I answered. “I have quite a bit of homework already, but I’m handling it. I think I may be on to something in this career.”
“Glad to hear it,” Roger replied. “My first week was busy as hell too. I need to be at home reading, but I wasn’t about to miss out on the Friday night festivities,” he said, taking a sip of his gin and tonic. “And definitely not miss out on spending time with my baby,” he added, with a kiss to Vanessa’s cheek.
Roger was a sweetheart, an intelligent black man, whose main focus in life was to please his women. And when I say women, of course I mean Vanessa, but I’m talking about his mama too. Yes, Roger still lived at home, bending over backward to cater to his mother’s every need in between school, work, and Vanessa.
I’ve received many late-night phone calls from Vanessa, holding back her tears as she told me how Roger canceled their evening plans because his mama needed him to stay home to write her bills out because her wrist was hurting (carpal tunnel, she claimed). Or to unclog the basement sink so she could wash her favorite skirt to wear to her church meeting the next day (favorite doesn’t mean only skirt, does it?).
But even though Roger’s mother had hidden the scissors to cut the apron strings and he was tucked neatly inside the pocket, Vanessa loved him dearly and agreed to marry him, mama and all.
“Hey, V, I met a girl in class that’s also majoring in social welfare,” I said. “We’re about the same age so I think we’ll be good leaning partners.”
“Good girl,” she said, patting my hand. “We need someone else to keep you headed in the right direction.”
“I am,” I said defensively. “I feel like something good is going to come out of this.” I raised my martini glass. “Here’s to my degree and Roger’s success in grad school.”
“Cheers,” we all said in unison.
Tori joined us an hour later with Doug, the infamous one-night stand. What I learned so far is Doug is a twenty-five-year-old truck driver with a silent wish to become a porn star. Only Tori could get a man to admit that kind of shit. Unfortunately, knowing this about him and knowing Tori’s own sexual prowess, I had a hard time engaging in conversation with him. I kept picturing the
m having sex and it was seriously disturbing me. I kept laughing to myself while Jeff looked at me like I had just escaped from the insane asylum.
Later, I mouthed to him numerous times throughout dinner.
We moved our party from the restaurant to Maxima, a hip-hop club on Water Street, a strip downtown known for barhopping. Tori and Doug headed straight to the dance floor for some foreplay, while Vanessa and Roger searched through the crowd for a table.
“Doug wants to be a porn star,” I blurted out when Jeff and I were alone. I couldn’t hold it in any longer.
He raised his eyebrows and smiled. “I’m sure Tori’s got him working like he’s a star already. From the stories you’ve told me and what Mac used to say, she wouldn’t do so bad in the industry herself.”
I punched him in the arm and stuck my tongue out to shut him up. Mac was one of Jeff’s Kappa brothers that Tori just had to have, once she laid eyes on him; a short, tawny-colored man with flirtatious green eyes, a red 325i, and a fierce dedication to his fraternity, rarely seen without sporting his Greek letters. They used to hit the sheets pretty often until Mac moved to Indiana with a job transfer. Personally, I believe Tori was disappointed when he left, but she would never tell us that. Broken heart or not, Tori always had a man waiting in the wings for her. With her smooth chocolate skin, never unkempt short haircut and gorgeous face, it was never hard for Tori to find a man.
Jeff headed toward the dancing crowd, with me in tow, moving his head to the beat before his feet even hit the shiny black floor. We flirted with each other while we danced, and I let him get a couple of free feels by grinding my backside against him. He responded with subtle thrusts against my dress, heating my body and thrilling my senses.
We finally headed back to his apartment around one in the morning. Jeff lived in newly remodeled apartments on the southeast side of the city, where the early stages of new development of condominiums and restored warehouses were beginning.
Once inside Jeff’s bedroom it didn’t take long for me to slip out of my dress and Jeff to come out of his pants. He laid me on the bed and knelt at my feet. Jeff’s tongue made its way from my toes all the way up to my ear. Slowly but intently, he was determined to please me. His breath was hot as his tongue dug deep into my ear, forcing an immediate tremble of my shoulders that sent a flutter straight down to the spot between my legs. I reached for his penis and guided him there. He entered me with ease, and tickled both my insides and outsides with each thrust. I twisted my hips in the way that pleased us both the most, and his face strained with pleasure as his momentum increased. He buried his face in my neck and his body shook as I felt him come inside of me before I did. He rested just a moment, then resumed his penetrations, still determined to please me. My body responded with a hard climax. Exhausted, we must have fallen asleep in that position because I felt him slip out of me and roll over about an hour later. I snuggled up close behind him and went back to sleep.
On Monday morning I was sweating bullets after running five laps around the indoor track at the gym, but Vanessa, fully energized like Popeye after a can of spinach, was chattering on about an upcoming interview with a prison inmate. We were now sitting side by side on the exercise bikes alongside the gym mirrors, which provided a full view of the gym and all of the crazy early-morning risers like ourselves.
“He’s being released after his conviction was overturned for being wrongly accused of abducting and murdering a five-year-old girl,” Vanessa explained. “He’s spent the last twelve years in prison and was let go because the actual killer came forward after getting life on another murder. Can you believe that?”
“That’s crazy as fuck,” Tori said. I agreed with a nod of my head.
“You don’t know how exciting this is,” Vanessa continued. “I’m getting the exclusive. My boss is working on getting the interview televised and who knows what will happen after that? Girls, my career might be going to the next level!”
I slapped her a high-five. “You go, girl! I knew you could do it.”
“Thanks, Ky. Maybe I can get you two on the set. Would you like to be there when your best friend makes her claim to fame?”
“Girl, yes,” Tori squealed.
A prison? A place full of horny men? That might not be a wise place for Tori to go. I grabbed my towel and left the exercise bike I had rested on. I was just sitting there pretending like I was about to do something on it anyway.
“All right, ladies, I have to hit the showers and get to class. I want to catch up to Steph before class starts,” I said as I began to walk off.
“Steph? Who’s that?” Tori questioned with a quick jerk of her head.
“She’s another girl in my class. I thought I told you about her?”
“That was me,” Vanessa corrected.
“Oh, right,” I remembered. “She’s real cool and I think we can help each other out this semester. You all keep reminding me that someone needs to keep an eye on me, right?”
“You got that right,” Tori said, laughing. “All right, girl, I’ll call you later.”
“Bye, Ky,” Vanessa said.
“See ya, ladies,” I said, heading to the locker room, wondering why I was leaving a whole half an hour early to see Steph. I mean, we’d get together after class for breakfast so I could talk to her then, right? Still, I couldn’t wait to see her to find out how her week had been. We seemed to click and I liked the way it felt.
The second week I was the first to arrive in class. I put my backpack in the seat next to mine and saved it for Steph. She arrived about ten minutes later and flashed that celebrity smile as soon as she saw me. Again, I felt myself teetering at the hilltop of a roller coaster with a flustered and excited stomach.
“Hey, lady, how are you this morning?” Steph asked brightly.
“I’m great. Just came from my usual workout,” I answered. “And you? Had your morning boost of energy yet?” I asked, referring to her coffee.
“You know I have. I’ll save the second for breakfast. We’re still on, right?”
“Of course. Where to this week?”
“I enjoyed the Nook. Why don’t we make that our spot?” she suggested.
“Sounds good to me.”
Mr. Jelenchick arrived and started class and it seemed like he talked for hours. I couldn’t wait to get out of there and get to breakfast, though I still couldn’t figure out why I was so anxious to be alone with Steph. He finally dismissed us at 11:15 with a new reading assignment and our first paper due the following week. Steph and I couldn’t get out of there fast enough as we met up at the Nook.
Steph and I found the same table in the restaurant. To start off, she ordered her coffee and water for me again. I looked at the menu trying to decide what I was going to have.
“I’m not pigging out today like I did last week. I’ll gain a hundred pounds eating like that every week with you,” I said.
“Girl, you look great! I can’t imagine you worrying about your weight,” Steph complimented.
“Thanks,” I said. “My boyfriend actually once told me I could use an extra pound or two.”
Steph put her menu down and leaned back into the cushion of the leather booth. I thought I saw her lips form a circle as if saying, “Oh.” But as quickly as it happened, it was over, and she was smiling at me. She was always smiling. “That didn’t bother you, did it?” she asked.
“No, not too much. I was surprised when he said it, though. But I appreciated his honesty. At least he didn’t tell me to lose some weight. Now that probably would have hurt my feelings.”
The same waitress from the previous week came to take our order. Stephanie ordered an onion bagel and I asked for a veggie casserole.
“Yeah, that would hurt anyone’s feelings,” she said, resuming the conversation. “What does your boyfriend do?” she asked.
I guess at this breakfast meeting it was my turn to open up.
“He’s a civil engineer. He’s been doing that for a little over three
years now and he’s very happy with it. He’s one of those people that knew exactly what he wanted to do right out of high school. He went to college, got his degree, and the rest is history. I wish I had been that focused.”
“Everybody moves at their own pace,” she comforted me. “That’s what makes people so interesting. We’re all different. What if everyone looked the same, talked the same, lived the same lives? How boring would that be?”
“I never thought of it that way. It’s just so easy to look at someone else’s life and wish it was yours.”
“The key is learning to be happy with what you have at the moment, and to be confident that you’ll get yours when the time is right.”
“Thanks. You’re right,” I said. Then I asked, “Do you have a boyfriend?”
She looked me directly in the eye and hesitated. Maybe I had gotten too personal or touched on a sensitive subject.
“I’m sorry. You don’t have to answer that if you don’t want to,” I said in response to her reluctance.
“No, that’s okay. No, I don’t have a boyfriend.”
“I know it can’t be because no one is interested. Look at you,” I said, admiring her perfect features. “You must have men lined up and banging at your door.”
She laughed like I had just told a really funny joke. “If they are, I haven’t been paying attention. I’m not trying to find a boyfriend.”
“So my trying to play matchmaker is out of the question, huh?”
“Hell yeah! Don’t even think about it,” she warned quite seriously.
“Okay, just let me know if you change your mind. Jeff has some pretty decent friends,” I said, already trying to figure out who she would be a good match with.
“Jeff? Is that your boyfriend?”