by Nikki Rashan
“Be careful doing that. I don’t want you hurting yourself or anyone else.”
He got cocky. “I know. What would you do without me?”
“Anyway,” I said sarcastically.
“What are you doing?”
“Stephanie and I are at breakfast.”
“Okay, I’ll let you get back to her. I’ll see you later, right?”
“Of course,” I said.
“I missed you, Ky.”
I looked up at Steph. She was staring right at me, amusement dancing through her pretty eyes.
“I know, Jeff. I’ll call you when I’m on my way.”
“I can’t wait.”
I hung up and tucked the phone back in my purse. Stephanie was still looking at me with a grin on her face.
“What?” I asked.
“You didn’t miss him?”
I laughed. “You don’t miss a thing, huh?”
“Never. Don’t forget that,” she said with a nod of her head.
After we made arrangements to hook up Friday, I headed to the radio station to claim my prizes. I spent the rest of the day at work studying every woman I encountered. I looked at their hairstyles, checked their makeup, analyzed their clothing, their walk, their talk, and anything I thought would clue me in on their sexuality. I wondered if every single woman I saw was a lesbian.
Compliments to my ignorance, I assumed every woman with short hair and even the mildest hint of tomboy was gay. Then I realized I shouldn’t make that assumption, considering all feminine women weren’t straight. Look at Stephanie. She was a prime example. Most women would feel intimidated if they caught their man in a conversation with Steph, not knowing Steph couldn’t care less about having the man for herself.
Later that afternoon I watched one particular woman who reminded me of Vivica Fox. She was tall and nicely shaped, with curves in all the right places. Her hair and makeup were done to perfection. She was shopping alone for about ten minutes before I asked if I could help her find anything, since I didn’t like to attack people as soon as they come into my department. I didn’t work on commission anyway. She said she was just looking but would let me know. Her cell phone rang several minutes later.
“Hey, baby,” she said in a sexy tone.
I put my ears on a bionic dial and tuned in. She was listening to a story the person was telling on the other end. Finally she said, “Girl, I would have told him to go to hell!”
Girl? Up until then I had been doing so well pretending like I was concentrating on folding sweaters. But my head darted in her direction. She didn’t appear to notice and kept on with her conversation. Could this beautiful black woman be a lesbian? I studied her every move for the next five minutes looking for a sign. What kind of sign, I’m not sure. I moved to the counter and stood behind the register, anxiously waiting for her to check out. She decided on a brown pair of nylon and spandex slacks with a matching sheer shirt.
“How do you think this will look on me?” she asked when she laid her clothes on the counter.
I looked at the fitted pants with a flared leg and pictured her in them. It was a nice visual.
“I think the outfit will look great on you,” I told her. “You should check out the lingerie department for a teddy or bralette tank.”
“I was thinking the same thing,” she said, studying the shirt.
“It’s on the next level up.” I felt like being nosy, something I was getting good at lately. “Going somewhere special?”
“Yes. My girl and I are celebrating her birthday. I want a new outfit to look extra special.”
Okay, no big deal. I would buy a new outfit if I were going out to celebrate a birthday with Tori or Vanessa, so that was no help. And I always call them my girls too.
“Sounds like fun!” I couldn’t think of anything else to ask so I hoped she would volunteer. And she did.
“Yeah, we’ve been through four birthdays together, but this is the big three-oh, so I want to make sure she has a great time. Wednesday is her birthday, but we’re going on that radio station boat cruise this Friday night and this is what I’m going to wear.”
“You’re kidding? I’m going this Friday too.”
She smiled and checked my wedding finger. “Wonderful. And who might you be going with?” she inquired, trying to get into my business the same way I had hoped to get into hers.
“Um, some friends.” Why did I leave Jeff out?
“Mmm, okay. I guess we’ll see you there,” she cooed. She took her receipt and plastic bag and sashayed up the escalator.
I beamed the rest of the day and couldn’t wait for Friday to come. And then I wondered if I was going to spend the rest of my life examining every woman I met to determine if she was gay. What was I doing to myself? I had a fun afternoon watching everyone, but why were gay women suddenly so fascinating to me?
Women are naturally intimate with one another, so it doesn’t seem so odd to hug a woman, lay next to a woman or even kiss a friend. But I’ve always been uncomfortable in the presence of another naked woman, always avoiding looking at her body. Suddenly I wondered why.
5
Jeff greeted me at his apartment door, wearing nothing but boxer shorts, holding a rose in one hand and a bowl of ice cream in the other. I could see what he had on his mind. I dropped my book bag and purse and put my arms around his neck. No homework was going to get done.
He smelled of Irish Spring soap and Tuscany cologne. He kissed my neck and licked my collarbone up to my ear. His breath smelled of Colgate toothpaste. I let his tongue flicker around my ear before reaching for his mouth with mine. We kissed a deep kiss to let one another know how much we missed each other.
He gently released himself and scooped a spoonful of French vanilla ice cream and fed it to me. I opened my mouth for another helping and he gave me more. This time I let the spoon linger in my mouth and licked it clean, looking at him, to let him know what was to come if he was a good boy. He studied my tongue until I thought he was about to start drooling. He took my hand and led me to his couch. I stood in front of him while he sat down and unzipped my jean skirt, tugging it until it fell to the floor. He brought his mouth to my stomach and kissed my belly button, sending shivers up my spine from his cold tongue. He moved lower, down to my underwear. He kissed, licked, and rubbed his mouth all over my silk thongs until I thought I was going to scream. He reached and pulled down one side of my panties and I lifted my left leg out, positioning it on the couch. I stood with a pair of wet panties around my ankle, with Jeff’s head between my legs. It didn’t take long for me to come. I could feel my juices rush down to greet his waiting tongue. He loved the taste and continued as if he were licking a plate clean.
One thing I learned about Jeff early in our relationship was that he had no hang-ups venturing down south. At first I was uneasy about that, unsure just how many places his lips had been. But I let go of that worry and let my man please me as often as he wanted to. And luckily, he didn’t automatically assume he was getting the same in return.
I reached down, cupped his face in my hands and kissed him to taste the sweetness in his mouth when, suddenly, Steph’s face unexpectedly popped into my head. I let out a quick gasp and stopped kissing. We finally spoke.
“You all right?” he wanted to know, with a concerned look on his face.
“Umm . . . yes, I’m fine. I’m sorry. I must have bit my tongue.” I lied, something I tried not to do very often.
“Let me see,” he said, trying to inspect my mouth.
“No, no, I’m okay,” I said, covering my mouth with my hand.
He ran his fingers down my spine and rubbed my ass, his way of telling me he wasn’t finished. I lay on the couch and he got on top of me. My head was racing and I hardly noticed when he entered me and when he came. My mind was elsewhere. Why was I thinking about Steph? I’ve always enjoyed kissing Jeff and tasting myself on his lips, because I find it so erotic. But I had never imagined tasting another woman until that momen
t. I could only assume that other women tasted the way I did. Hmm . . . I was suddenly curious.
“Hmmm, what?” Jeff asked.
“What?” I asked, afraid I had been thinking out loud.
“You said ‘hmmm,’ like you just had a revelation or something.”
“No, I wasn’t thinking anything.” Another lie. I was on a roll.
He positioned himself next to me and started telling me about his weekend. Robert, a colleague of his, had gone to the conference with him. On the trip he found out that Robert had been having an affair with one of the female bosses. Apparently, this woman finagled a reason to attend this conference and the two had shared a few too many glasses of wine and lost all inhibitions in public.
Saturday night Jeff had gone down to the gift shop looking for pain relievers and found them cozily seated in the lobby waiting for a cab. He said the look on Robert’s face went from the shock of being caught to embarrassment of the same thing. The two of them talked about Robert’s affair the next day. Robert had been married twelve years and I’d met his wife on several occasions at company events. She seemed like a sweet woman, wore a bit too much makeup like Tammy Faye, but I assumed they were happy. Apparently, looks can be quite deceiving.
Robert said that their marriage was just a picture, an image of what family life is supposed to be. They had two children together, an older son and younger daughter. He worked, she stayed home. The kids attended private school and exceled in academics and extracurricular activities. However, he and his wife lived in a joyless household. Since the birth of their daughter, he said he and his wife’s sex life had been nonexistent. She told him that the demands of motherhood took first priority and having sex with her husband was last on her list of chores. It had become another task that didn’t get completed at the end of the day. Robert said that while they were great partners at parenting their children, they were strangers in all other aspects.
Jeff turned and looked at me. “Do you think that will happen to us?”
I shook my head. “No, not at all. You know how I feel about marriage as it is, and I have no intention of doing it unless I’m sure it will last forever.”
“How do you feel about it right now?”
My heart rate picked up the pace. Was he about to pop the question? I chose my words carefully.
“I know right now I’m very happy and I can’t imagine us not continuing to get along as well as we do.”
Was that satisfactory? I hoped so.
“I feel the same way,” Jeff said, pulling me close to him so I could smell his freshly applied deodorant.
Whew, good. I guess the answer was all right. I’m not saying I didn’t love Jeff or that our relationship wasn’t the best I’d had so far. But even though we’d been together over four years, I wasn’t sure how I’d feel if he wanted to get married. Marriage scared the hell out of me. I had no role models except for Jeff’s parents. Of course, I admired my own parents, but they’re divorced, so I didn’t know how much of their marital advice I was willing to take.
“So can you tell me that you missed me now?” Jeff asked, reaching for a hug.
“You know I did, Jeff. I always miss you when you’re away. But Steph and I spent time together, so I stayed busy.”
“You’re becoming good friends, I see,” he observed.
“Yeah, she’s pretty cool. Oh, she’ll be coming out with us on Friday. Tori planned for us to go on the midnight cruise instead of meeting at the restaurant. It’s not really at midnight. I think we board at ten and get back at midnight, something like that.”
“That’s cool. Something different will be nice,” he said.
I replayed that statement in my head. Something different will be nice. That simple statement right there can easily be taken out of context. That statement says that routine becomes uninteresting and boring. A job becomes routine, the same Friday-night plans become uneventful, and people in relationships become predictable. I guess that’s how my parents felt and that’s why so many relationships end in divorce.
What makes relationships get to that point? In the beginning, it’s so exciting and thrilling to receive a phone call, a kiss, a touch . . . Why does that wear off? Do we dislike the person the more we get to know them? Do people change? I don’t know if I believe that people change. I think we eventually learn things about that person that they didn’t clue us in on before. And maybe they weren’t even aware of it themselves.
After my Wednesday-morning class, I met Yvonne for lunch. We decided to meet at Percy’s, a little joint frequented by everyone from NBA players and public officials, to drug dealers and retirees. For once, she wasn’t geared up in her polyester blue slacks and starched white oxford, her standard work uniform. Instead, she wore black pants and a long-sleeved, scoop-neck olive sweater. She wore her hair pulled back in a bun, emphasizing her prominent cheekbones and high forehead. Her eyes were coated with soft brown eyeliner, and mascara with a light golden gloss covering her lips. I knew she had to be off today because that girl wore her uniform as proudly as if she were in the armed forces.
I greeted her with a hug and a kiss on the cheek. I could smell the scent of jasmine perfume on her skin. She was smiling and seemed extra perky today.
“What are you grinning about, young lady?” I asked her.
“I have a lunch date,” she said excitedly.
“Well, I know you’re glad to see me, but damn,” I said, playing with her.
She rolled her eyes while still smiling. “This man who shops in the store asked me to have lunch with him today and I agreed. He’s so handsome, Ky!”
“He must be something because I can count the number of dates you’ve had in the last year on one hand,” I said, holding up a fist, indicating none. “What’s his name?”
“His name is Byron and his business card says he’s a financial advisor.”
I looked over my menu. “I take it you won’t be eating then, huh?”
“No, sorry, sis. I didn’t want to cancel on you, though, since we rarely get together. But maybe I should eat something so I don’t go pigging out in front of him. What do you think?”
“I think if your ass is hungry, then you need to eat. Don’t pretend you don’t like food when you really do. Then when he finds out you can throw down just as well as he can, he’ll wonder what else you’re hiding. You know what I’m saying?”
“Yeah, you’re right. I’ll hold off and eat with him. Especially because we’re going for steaks, and you know I love some steak,” she said hungrily.
A waitress who looked like she was skipping school came and took our order. I decided on fried chicken, mashed potatoes, and lemonade.
“I thought your friend, Stephanie, was really nice,” Yvonne said. “She seems to have a good relationship with her little boy too. He was well behaved. You don’t see that too much these days.”
“They take good care of each other. That’s what she says.”
“You know, the more I thought about it, I remembered she used to come into the store pretty often.”
“Yeah?”
“Um-hm. She was usually shopping with this really pretty woman,” she went on.
“Yeah?” Just get to the point, Yvonne.
“Yep, they grocery-shopped together a lot, so they must have been roommates.”
Yvonne was looking at me as she took a sip of her water. I realized she was feeling me out. She must know.
“Maybe. She doesn’t have a roommate now, but she may have at some time.” I toyed with the straw in my glass, then asked as casually as I could, “What did the woman look like?”
“Wow, she was a beautiful brown-skinned woman with one of those sharp short haircuts. She didn’t wear a lot of makeup, but it was always done right. She looked about your age with large, gorgeous brown eyes.”
She’d just described Michelle, the woman in the picture on Steph’s table. That must have been her ex-girlfriend’s mom that died. No wonder the death affected her the way it
did. And then she lost Michelle because she couldn’t cope with her mother’s death.
“You know, I thought I saw them holding hands once,” she said.
“Yeah?” That was my word for the day. Why didn’t she just come out with it?
“Um-hm.”
Now she waited for me to respond, but I wasn’t biting the bait. I hated to play these games with my sister, but I wasn’t interested in gossiping about Steph’s business. I was sure she had to deal with that all the time.
“Mom’s birthday is coming up,” I said, changing the subject.
Yvonne gave up. “It sure is. What do you want to do for her this year?”
“I thought we could take her out for a nice dinner. She always likes that.”
“That sounds good to me. Just let me know when, so I can take that night off.”
“I was thinking, next week Saturday.”
Yvonne thought out loud. “That should work because Mark, the other manager, is returning from vacation next week. I’m sure he won’t need Saturday off already. I’ll check with him and then go ahead and make the plans.”
We talked about Gladyce a while longer until Yvonne checked her watch. “Oh, I gotta get going. I need to get downtown and I don’t want to be late.”
I finished my potatoes and guzzled the last of my lemonade. As I paid the bill, I realized that I spent a lot of time in restaurants. That’s one thing I would have to change if and when I settled down. I know eating at home saves lots of money. Then I wondered who cooked the home meals, Stephanie or Michelle? Who was the “woman”? I also wondered if that stereotype even existed.
Friday night I decided on a figure-fitting black mini-rayon-and-polyester shirt dress with black pumps. I pinned my hair up and curled a few ringlets around my forehead and neck. I chose silver-and-black earrings with a matching necklace and bracelet. I bathed in a warm vanilla bath so I was smelling candy sweet and feeling extra sexy. Stephanie was meeting me at my apartment, and Jeff was picking us up from there.
I was putting on a shiny clear coat of polish over my copper-colored nails when my doorbell rang. I waved my hands in the air as I walked to the door and managed to turn the knob with the palm of my hand. There was Stephanie, looking absolutely stunning in a lavender silk pantsuit. She wore open-toe matching lavender heels. Her hair was blown straight and was silky smooth with a part down the center, and hanging well beneath the middle of her back. Her eyes were rimmed in black eyeliner with a hint of lavender eye shadow, and her lips were a shiny color of jazzy plum.