Double Pleasure, Double Pain

by Nikki Rashan

  David was sitting cross-legged in front of me and massaging my hands and fingers with lotion before finishing my manicure. He’d loved polishing my nails since I was about six years old. You could still see the faint pink spill stains on the light blue carpeting if you stared hard enough.

  “What do you think the family would say if I told them about Steph?” I asked David.

  “Lucky for you, girl. I already took the stigma of homosexuality out of the family. Everyone would be shocked all right, but it might not be as bad as you think. There would be an adjustment period, but I don’t think you would turn into the black sheep of the family.

  “Honey child, look at me,” he continued, running his fingers over his platinum blond Sisqó hairdo. “I fit every gay stereotype there is and our family loves me just as I am.”

  “Can you picture me bringing Steph and Jaron to Christmas dinner as a family?” I asked, laughing at my question.

  “Yes, I can,” he responded seriously. “The question is, can you?”

  I was tired of asking myself questions. I felt like my heart already knew the answers, but I wanted to do the right thing. But was it the right thing for me or for everyone else?

  “You know what else you have to think about?” David asked. “What would you do if your relationship with Stephanie didn’t work out? I’m not wishing that on you, but keep it in mind, sweetie. Would you go back to dating men or be a full-blown lesbian? You’d never be able to go back and erase the fact that you once had a relationship with a woman. It’ll follow you forever.”

  Good question. I hadn’t thought about that. Would I go back to men? Or was I bisexual? I remembered a girl from one of my women’s studies classes who identified herself as bisexual. She said she was looking for love and didn’t care if it came in the form of a man or a woman. No, I didn’t think I felt that way.

  David picked up an emery board and squarely shaped my natural nails.

  “Are you in love, Kyla?” David asked.

  I didn’t hesitate. “I think I am, David. I love everything about Steph. The friend she is, the mother she is, the lover in her, the career woman. I feel like I can share anything and everything there is about me with her and never have to pretend to be something I’m not. I feel like I could look into her eyes forever and it would always feel like it was the very first time.”

  “Hmph. Sounds like you know what to do, honey, you just need the courage.”

  We heard a creak at the door and fell silent. Then there was a knock and Yvonne walked in.

  “Hey, what’s up?” she asked casually, though she had that same guilty look on her face from childhood when she used to eavesdrop on David and me.

  “What are you two talking about?” she asked, looking at me, knowing good and well she heard.

  I could lie and she would know I was lying. Or I could tell the truth and start the process of filling my family in on my newfound revelation.

  “We were talking about love,” I answered, beating around the bush, something I was fairly good at.

  “Who’s in love?” she asked.

  “We all are, aren’t we?” I asked, hoping the subject would change to Byron.

  She forgot about me so fast and started in on Byron that I knew the girl was sprung.

  “He’s so wonderful. It took long enough for me to hook up with someone, but he was worth the wait,” she said, clasping her hands together with that dreamy look in her eyes that is usually only seen in movies.

  “I’m happy for you, Yvonne. He’s a really nice person,” I said, grateful she accepted the bait.

  “Yes, he is,” she said. “I just can’t wait until his divorce is final.”

  David stopped filing my nails and looked at me before we both turned to Yvonne.

  “What?” I asked in shock.

  “Rewind that tape, honey! What did you say?” David asked with a hand on his hip.

  “He and his wife separated about six months ago and he’s in the process of filing for a divorce,” Yvonne answered nonchalantly.

  “Girlfriend, has he actually filed yet?” David asked.

  “Well, no, he’s still looking for an attorney.”

  “Sugar, divorce attorneys are not hard to find. Just open the yellow pages and point,” David said, demonstrating by pointing his finger.

  “He said he wants to find a good one.” She thought for a moment. “But it’s not like they have a lot to fight over. They don’t have any kids or own a house,” Yvonne said, suddenly sounding curious.

  “Why are they getting divorced?” I wanted to know.

  “He said they want different futures,” she said. “They got married right after college and spent the next few years trying to get financially stable, but he says she doesn’t know the meaning of the word budget. He’s not a tightwad, although being a financial advisor makes him value every dollar. Anyway,” she exhaled. “His wife is ready to move to the next phase and start a family, but he wants to save money, buy a house, travel, and wait until he’s sure he’s ready to be a father.”

  “Are they sure that’s grounds for divorce? It sounds like they might be able to work it out through counseling,” I said.

  “They tried counseling right before he moved out. They still decided to separate,” she replied.

  “Be careful,” I warned. “Don’t get all wrapped up for him to turn around and go back to his wife. You could be a temporary fill-in.”

  David snapped his fingers in the air. “I know that’s right. You’re on the rebound, girl,” he said.

  Now I wished I hadn’t gotten her that sexy nightgown with the matching furry, high-heeled slippers.

  Yvonne frowned her face at us. “He’s coming tomorrow, so don’t treat him funny. I know he’s going to divorce her,” she said in Byron’s defense.

  “Do Mom and Dad know?” I asked her.

  “No! And keep it that way. We both can keep secrets, can’t we?” she said, looking me in the eye. She was turning the conversation back to me and I wasn’t playing into it.

  At that moment, David was my only confidant. He put the last finishing coat of really red on my pinky fingernail.

  “Blow, darling. And don’t mess them babies up,” he instructed me. Then he proceeded to paint his own nails the same color.

  We all left around midnight. The house was beautifully decorated with strings of white lights twirled through Gladyce’s five floor plants. I had hung red, gold, and green garland at the ceiling in half circles, making a wall trim in Christmas colors. Red cinnamon candles were placed on the coffee table, the stereo speakers, the bookcase, and anything with a flat surface. At Gladyce’s request I spread gold glitter on her tan carpeting for a shimmer effect, but I had the feeling she wouldn’t do that again after cleanup.

  Again, I waited until I had driven down the street before calling Steph from my car.

  “Merry Christmas,” I said cheerfully.

  “Back to you,” she said, sounding wide awake.

  “Can I come by and bring you and Jaron’s gifts?”

  “I didn’t think I would see you until after the new year.”

  “I can’t wait that long, Steph. Plus, I want you to have the gifts before Christmas, not after.”

  She pretended to sound irritated by my persistence, but I could feel her smile through the phone. “Okay, come on,” she said.

  David pulled up next to me at a stoplight just as I was hanging up my cell phone.

  “Stephanie or Jeff?” he inquired after lowering his window.

  “You don’t have to ask, do you?” I replied.

  We laughed, though the look in his eyes seemed like sorrow for Jeff. A pang of guilt skyrocketed through me, yet I continued on to Steph’s apartment.

  Her place smelled like a bakery when I walked in. And she looked like Betty Crocker in an apron and cooking gloves.

  “Smells delicious,” I said, inhaling the scent as I took my coat off.

  “I’ve made three cakes and the last one is in the
oven,” she said.

  She led me into the kitchen and proudly displayed her German chocolate cake, pound cake, and lemon cake with chocolate icing. She pointed to the oven.

  “This one here is a ginger cake,” she said. She took her gloves off and swiped her finger around the mixing bowl. She put her finger in my mouth for a taste. “You like?” she asked.

  “Very much,” I murmured without letting her finger go. She allowed my tongue to linger for a moment before snatching her finger back.

  “No. No more booty calls,” she said, smiling.

  I reached in my pocket and pulled out an unwrapped bracelet.

  She squealed in delight when she saw it.

  “Kyla! When did you get this?”

  “While you were sleeping, I went down and talked to the concierge and one of them picked it up for me.”

  The bracelet was handcrafted, made of sterling silver bands and beads with a single onyx stone in the middle. She had seen the bracelet at a gift shop when we were in Nassau and drooled over it for at least ten minutes. Instead of purchasing it, she opted to purchase a gift for Jaron.

  She threw her arms around my neck and jumped up and wrapped her legs around my waist. She kissed me over and over, telling me, “Thank you” in between smacks.

  In an attempt to prove my strength, I tried to hold her up while kissing her back, but my arms gave in and we fell to the floor. We rolled around laughing and making so much noise that I was sure Jaron would wake up and the cake would fall. I laid on her and stretched her arms above her head and put the bracelet on her right wrist.

  I hoped to make love to her right there on her kitchen floor. But I would honor her request. I didn’t want her to feel like I was using her for the good sex we shared. Still, I pressed my body into hers to see if I could get a reaction. She closed her eyes and grinded long enough to get my panties dripping wet and then stopped abruptly.

  “What did I tell you, Kyla?” she said, trying to sound stern, but her eyes were filled with pleasure.

  “Okay, I’ll behave,” I said.

  I got up and pulled her up with both hands. I kissed her and got my coat on.

  “I better get some rest. Tomorrow will be a busy day for both of us,” I said.

  “I’ll be thinking about you,” she admitted.

  “And I’ll be thinking about you,” I said. “I’ll call you the day after tomorrow. Bye, sweetie.”

  She blushed at my words and it was so adorable.

  After I left Steph’s, my cell phone started ringing as soon as I got in the car.

  “Hey, I’m outside your apartment. Where are you?” Jeff asked. I was just about to lie, but he kept on. “I called your mom and she said you left about an hour ago.”

  “I just dropped Jaron’s gift over by Stephanie’s. I wanted to make sure he had it on Christmas morning.”

  “Oh.”

  “Are you going to wait for me?” I asked.

  “I’ll be right here,” he said impatiently.

  I hurried home and pulled up next to his truck.

  “What’s that on your clothes?” he asked after we were inside and I took my coat off. I looked down and saw stripes of chocolate on my jeans that must have come from Steph’s apron. I hadn’t even noticed.

  “She was baking cakes and I must have gotten dirty,” I explained.

  “How?”

  “I don’t know.”

  He stood there looking at me, I guess waiting for a better explanation. I wondered if he was beginning to speculate about the depth of our friendship.

  “I’m tired. Let’s go to bed,” I suggested.

  As usual, he dropped the subject and followed me into the bedroom, telling me about his evening at his parents. His brother had made a major announcement that his girlfriend was pregnant. Kent first mentioned it to Jeff a couple of months ago but had him swear to secrecy.

  “I would have told you, but you don’t always keep secrets very well,” he said, eyeing me curiously.

  “Are they going to get married?” I asked him.

  “That was my mom and dad’s first question too. Kent and Kendra don’t want to rush and get married just because she’s pregnant. And I agree, it’s their decision.”

  “I’m surprised she doesn’t want to get married. She’s older than him, isn’t she?”

  “Yeah, she’s thirty-one, but she has an eleven-year-old daughter and she’s been married and divorced already. I guess her parents sent her to the courthouse the first time, so she’s in no hurry to rush to make that same mistake again.”

  “Well, she already went and got pregnant, didn’t she?”

  He looked at me like that wasn’t a very nice thing to say. I tried to clean it up.

  “So you’re going to be an uncle. Are you excited?” I asked him.

  “Hell, yeah! If I like it enough, I’ll have to make some rug rats of my own,” he said, smacking my behind as I put on my nightshirt.

  I changed the subject to Byron, telling Jeff I couldn’t believe Yvonne had gone and gotten herself mixed up with someone who already had somebody. Then I shut my ass up as soon as I thought about Steph’s involvement with me.

  “I can talk to him tomorrow and see where he’s coming from,” Jeff offered.

  “Oh, no. My parents don’t know, so you can’t bring up the topic.”

  Plus, if Jeff spilled the beans and Yvonne found out, she might resort to letting out my little secret. I couldn’t chance that.

  We got into bed and he wrapped his big body around mine, and I pretended to fall asleep immediately. He kissed my forehead and it wasn’t until I felt his body ease away into dreamland that I allowed my body to relax and drift off to sleep myself.

  Gladyce’s home was filled with Christmas merriment as the BeBe and CeCe Winans First Christmas CD played through the stereo speakers. Everyone had feasted on ham, greens, chicken, dressing, green beans, and potato salad; and those were just a few items on the menu.

  My grandma and grandpa, who I generally spend time with only when I visit their suburban retirement community, sat in the leather recliners on opposite sides of the Christmas tree, each sharing family stories and doling out years of wisdom when asked for advice from the younger generations. Aunt Pearl found joy in the company of her sister and brother-in-law and other members of the family that she didn’t get to see on a regular basis. Mr. and Mrs. Oldham, Kent, Kendra, and her daughter blended well with my family, cracking jokes and interacting with everyone there. Being a beautician, Kendra took a special liking to David, who reminded her of two of the hairstylists in the salon that she owned. Byron handed out business cards to all in attendance, assuring them a prosperous future if trusted with their finances. And Aunt Shari was Gladyce’s partner and aide, helping serve dishes, keeping glasses full, and making sure guests were comfortable, all while trying to keep gold sparkle off of plates, out of children’s hair, and removed from clothing. She fussed at her sister all evening, questioning why she would do such a thing as place glitter on her carpeting.

  I was headed back into the kitchen for my third helping of macaroni and cheese when the doorbell rang.

  “I’ll get it,” I yelled over the music and chatter and went to answer the door. Three familiar faces smiled brightly at me when I opened the door. “What a nice surprise,” I said, giving Tori, Vanessa, and Roger each a hug. “What are you doing here?”

  “What? We can’t come see our best friend on Christmas?” Tori asked.

  “I don’t remember inviting you,” I said sarcastically. “But I’m glad you’re here,” I added.

  “Look who’s here,” I yelled at everyone as I walked the group into the living room. No one seemed surprised by their entrance.

  “Right on time, we were just about to open gifts,” Gladyce announced with a little too much enthusiasm.

  David, dressed in tight black leather pants, a red sweater (to match the nails), and a Santa Claus hat, handed his gifts out first. I opened my box to find a poem written on a
mirrored wall hanging. It read:

  Let’s treasure each moment that we have, because tomorrow is not guaranteed.

  Let’s not waste our lives in fear or anger or pain, but break free of all constrictions to live in a way that fulfills us.

  Let’s express what we feel we need to, and do the things that reward us.

  Life is too short to waste, and time can never be recaptured.

  Engraved on the back he quoted William Shakespeare:

  This above all: to thine own self be true.

  To my baby girl, much happiness and success in school, career, and love. David

  “Thank you, David,” I said, kissing his lips flavored with strawberry gloss. I don’t think anyone else in the room knew how special those words were to me. No one had any idea that I was internally tearing myself apart struggling to figure out just what it was I needed to be happy and what my true self was.

  We continued with our gift opening and I hated to give Yvonne her gift. Jeff and I shared a knowing look when Yvonne whispered something in Byron’s ear and you could practically see his dick get hard through his pants.

  I gave Jeff his gift of three books by Michael Baisden, a money clip engraved with his initials, and two floor tickets to the Bucks vs. Lakers game in the spring. I did some serious groveling with a VP at the store and got the floor seats. Jeff shook his fist in the air like Arsenio did when he was famous back in the nineties. I knew he would love the tickets the most. Who wouldn’t want to see Shaq and Kobe work their magic on the floor?

  “So, Kyla, does this mean he has to take you to the game?” Roger asked, stepping close to Jeff like he was his best buddy in the world.

  “No, he can take whomever he chooses. I don’t want to go,” I replied.

  “All right!” They knocked fists together, confirming their date.

  Jeff stood up and asked for everyone’s attention. Gladyce hurriedly turned the music down as Jeff took the spotlight and started talking in her direction. I sat down, slightly confused by what he needed to say to everybody.