Where I Want To Be

by Maryam Diaab

  “Why I didn’t call you back is none of your concern,” Alexis said, removing a sky blue tank top from a rack and holding it up to her chest. Alexis checked the price and size on the tag hanging from the shirt’s hem.

  “What in the hell is your problem? You have been acting really shitty all morning,” Morgan asked, tossing a purple bikini top back onto the shelf and glaring at Alexis.

  “Oh, I know what the problem is,” Claire said, she too glaring. “You know Mr. Six Figures doesn’t like to stay the night after he gets his rocks off. He probably up and left before you had a chance to visit with Big O.”

  Alexis returned the tank top to the rack and looked at her two best friends. “It’s much worse than that.”

  Claire and Morgan looked quizzically at each other and then at Alexis. “What happened?” Morgan asked. The anger and annoyance previously in her voice disappeared and was replaced by empathy and concern.

  “Well, the night before last—” Alexis began.

  “Oh, my God, you caught him with another man, didn’t you? I swear, that is just like something you would read in an E. Lynn Harris book. I knew he was on the downlow. I knew it! After I heard that man on Oprah explaining that kind of lifestyle I knew Kevin fit the profile.”

  “Why must you always be so dramatic?” Alexis asked impatiently. “Kevin Washington is not on the DL, at least not in the way you think.”

  Alexis saw the total confusion in her friend’s eyes. “He’s married,” she said, looking from Claire to Morgan.

  The two gasped simultaneously.

  “Wait, I’m not finished. Not only is the man married but he has two kids.”

  Morgan clamped her hand over her mouth in shocked disbelief. “Oh, my Lord,” she said quietly.

  “Ain’t that a bitch?” Claire asked, shaking her head. “Well, I knew something wasn’t right with him. I would have never guessed that he was married, though.”

  “I know. I feel so completely clueless.”

  “Why?” Morgan asked. “It’s not your fault. He’s the one that lied to you,” Morgan said, giving Alexis a sisterly hug.

  Feeling a lump form in her throat and her eyes well with tears, Alexis unsuccessfully tried to keep her emotions in check. Tears began streaming down her face, prompting Morgan to hug her even tighter.

  “Girl, stop crying over his low-life ass. You are better off without him as far as I’m concerned. He didn’t do anything but piss you off with all that disappearing stuff, anyway. Not to mention the fact that you were beginning to question yourself—like something was wrong with you! But you probably will miss those gifts,” Claire said, never failing to find the humor in a situation.

  As much as Alexis didn’t want to admit it, she knew Claire was right. Alexis stepped out of Morgan’s hug and wiped her eyes. “Okay, you’re right. I am better off without him.” But Alexis thought that was easy to say but not that easy to make herself believe.

  “I know I’m right. Now that you got your little crying jag out of the way, tell us how you found out.”

  Taking a deep, cleansing breath and standing up straight, Alexis began to tell her story. “Well, I called him to find out why he had left early again, and he gives me his usual excuse about needing to go to some early-morning meeting. Then he tells me that he’s coming over later and that he has a present for me. I get all cute and light candles and I even prepared lobster.” Alexis told the story in hushed tones so that the entire store wouldn’t be privy to her life. “He gets there and we’re talking. We sit on the chaise and I start feeding him lobster and he gives me this beautiful platinum heart and key bracelet. After that, you know I had to put it on him. My dumb ass thought he was being thoughtful and sweet. Anyway, we fall asleep, but he wakes up about six and is banging about, snatching on all these clothes and about to fall over, talking about he’s going to be late for work. It’s Saturday.”

  “Girl, you know he was a fool. He couldn’t even get his lie straight enough to realize that it was the weekend,” Claire interrupted.

  “Oh, you haven’t heard the worst of it. As he’s panicking trying to get out of my apartment, the phone rings, and it’s his wife telling me that he hasn’t been home and his kids miss him. She asks to speak to him and I oblige.”

  “Are you serious?” Morgan asked, not wanting to believe what she was hearing.

  “Girl, yes, I almost fell out. Anyway, after he gets off the phone with her, I tell him that he needs to get the hell out. He tries to explain, but then he calls his wife by the wrong name. And after all that I come to find out he’s not only cheating on his wife with me but with some other chick, too.” Alexis felt exhausted. Retelling that story was both physically and emotionally draining.

  “This is the first time in my entire life that I have been absolutely speechless. I feel like I need a drink,” Claire said, returning to her search through the racks.

  “If you feel like having a drink, what do you think I feel like?”

  “Probably like smoking some crack,” Morgan said, following Claire over to the clearance section.

  * * *

  After each woman had spent nearly two weeks’ pay on clothing and spa treatments, hunger set in and they ended their day with dinner at Angie’s Soul Food Café.

  “You know what, Alexis? You should just consider what happened between you and Kevin as a blessing in disguise. I mean, now that you are unattached, you can really let loose in New Orleans without worrying about what anyone else is going to say. You can even join in my quest for the sexiest Southern gentleman,” Claire said, spearing one of Angie’s famous salmon croquettes with her fork.

  Alexis laughed. “The only thing this experience has taught me is that men are not to be trusted.”

  “Not all men are like that, Alexis. Look at Craig and me. We have been together for almost four years and are truly happy. He has never cheated on me, and it’s going to stay that way,” Morgan said wistfully, taking a sip of her mango-flavored iced tea.

  Claire rolled her eyes, and Alexis reached across the table and placed her hand over Morgan’s. “You honestly don’t have a clue, do you?” Alexis asked, her tone mockingly soothing.

  “What is that supposed to mean?” Morgan asked angrily.

  “Nothing. Alexis is just throwing salt because her man turned out to have more women than Bishop Don Juan,” Claire said.

  Alexis gestured with her middle finger and continued. “All I’m saying is that I’m tired of being played and mistreated. My love life seems as if it’s in a never-ending downward spiral. Last year, it was Michael with his controlling ass; the year before that it was Mama’s Boy Quentin. Now Kevin. It just seems like all the men who are attracted to me and vice versa are completely incapable of showing me the love and respect I deserve. I refuse to put myself through that again, and I am okay with the fact that I’ll be spending the rest of my life alone.”

  “You sound really ridiculous. You aren’t even twenty-five yet, and you’re already planning to be an old maid. I don’t know why I’m your friend, because we have absolutely nothing in common. And when I spoke about the men in New Orleans, I wasn’t suggesting you find a husband. I was suggesting you find someone to bang your brains out and make you forget all about Kevin. Or is he going by Hugh Heffner now?”

  “Look, I am not going down there to get involved with any man on any level. I just want to forget about men totally and concentrate on other more productive and rewarding things.”

  “I just don’t understand how you can say that because as long as we’ve known each other, which has been a very long time, you have been talking about wanting to get married and be a mother and do all the things that you need a man to accomplish,” Morgan reminded Alexis.

  She had to admit Morgan was right. When Alexis met Claire and Morgan the day she and her family moved into the neighborhood, all Alexis talked about was getting married and having five little girls. At just seven years old, she would devote hours to creating Barbie Doll wedding dre
sses out of her brother’s sweat socks while other children her age were out riding their bikes or playing freeze tag. In high school, Alexis became a majorette just to be noticed by the most popular guy in school. And in college, she started a hope chest so that when the right man came along and asked her to marry him, she would be ready.

  “I just have one question, Alexis,” Morgan continued, putting down her fork and looking Alexis straight in the eye. “Are you planning on becoming a lesbian? Because that’s what it sounds like to me.”

  “Good question,” Claire concurred, turning in her seat to look at Alexis.

  Alexis sighed, this time giving both of them the middle finger. “No, that is not what I’m saying. What I am saying is that no man is worth the pain and humiliation that I’ve had to deal with these past few years. I know it’s sad and completely against the things I have always wanted for my life, but if I have to be celibate in order to protect my heart and save my sanity, then that’s what I will do.”

  “Well, instead of this trip for your birthday, we should have gotten you a lifetime supply of batteries, because you are going to rack up a lot of miles on your vibrator.”

  5

  THE BIG EASY

  Alexis stepped onto the latticed balcony of the hotel room she was sharing with Claire and Morgan, and the suffocating Louisiana heat drove her straight back into the air-conditioned room.

  “Why is it so hot out there? It feels as if we just touched down into the depths of hell,” she said, closing the French doors behind her and sitting on the bed next to Morgan.

  The three had arrived in New Orleans earlier that day after a three-hour flight and were completely excited to finally be there. The hotel room was gorgeous and had two double beds, a Jacuzzi tub, a minibar, and a separate sitting area. The walls were the color of a deep wine and exuded indulgence and sensuality, much like New Orleans itself. From the moment they arrived, Alexis and Morgan had raved about their accommodations, while Claire had proclaimed that the room was too nice for them not to be spending much time there. “Had I known it would be like this, I would have saved my money and reserved three separate rooms at the local motel near the airport,” Claire had said.

  Morgan fanned herself and checked the room’s thermostat. “I know,” she said, agreeing with Alexis’s assessment of the city’s heat. Moving from the thermostat to the mirror over the dresser, she pulled a pink halter over her head and threw it to the floor. “It must be at least eighty-five degrees out there, and it’s ten o’clock at night. Can you imagine what it’s going to feel like tomorrow afternoon?”

  “I don’t know and I don’t care, because I plan to be lying in the bed getting a nice long nap to rest up for the concert tomorrow,” Claire said, applying black eyeliner to her right eye. The twelve-dollar pencil made her already large, almond-shaped eyes look even bigger. The white low-cut dress she wore looked fabulous against her Hershey-brown skin, and with her short pixie cut, Claire knew that she would be the talk of the town that night.

  After much thought, Alexis had decided on a much more understated look. Her outfit consisted of an orange halter tunic, snug-fitting jeans and strapped tan stiletto sandals; it was simple but sexy. Alexis arranged her hair in loose curls that brushed her neck, applied eyeliner, mascara, moisturizer and lip gloss and was ready to go in under forty-five minutes. Morgan, on the other hand, was still engaged in a marathon of clothes selection, and the once-immaculate hotel room looked as if a hurricane had blown through it. A slew of clothes, shoes and hair products were strewn about, and three very different perfume scents filled the air.

  As soon as their plane had touched down in New Orleans, the ladies had been ready to experience everything the city had to offer, wanting nothing less than letting loose and partying. Claire turned on the radio in their rented SUV to find out what was happening on the club scene that weekend. In just a few minutes of listening, they had learned that the House of Blues was the hot spot for the evening.

  As Alexis began transferring essential items from her everyday purse to a tan clutch, Morgan was pulling a yellow spaghetti-strap mini-dress over her head and smiling in the mirror. After fluffing her shoulder-length curly hair, applying lipstick and strapping her gold high-heeled sandals around her ankles, she grabbed the matching purse and declared herself ready to go.

  On the short drive to the House of Blues through the historic streets of New Orleans, the three friends recognized some of the city’s landmarks, planning to see more of them during their trip. The speakers in the SUV blared Destiny’s Child, and when the song “Through With Love” began to play, Alexis lifted her hand up in the air, swaying with the beat and proclaiming the song her new anthem.

  “I wonder how long this little act you have going on is going to last?” Claire asked Alexis, who was loudly repeating the words to the song as if she were the fourth member of the group.

  “This is no act. This is the new me, and I hereby declare that I am through with love.” Alexis sang along as Morgan pulled the SUV in front of the club. She kept singing even as the valet opened the door and helped her step down onto the pavement.

  “Look, why don’t we leave the singing to the professionals and just enjoy ourselves. This is supposed to be the spot tonight, so let’s get a table, order some drinks and meet some men,” Claire said, positioning herself between Alexis and Morgan as they hurried up the club’s walkway. The moment they left the humid New Orleans air behind and stepped into the cool air-conditioned entranceway of the House of Blues, Alexis fell under the seductive spell of the nightclub and forgot the song she had been singing and promised herself to have a good time.

  The club had been open less than an hour, but the dance floor was already packed. Couples were bumping, grinding and swaying to the music of Usher. There were people everywhere and as the three made their way across the club, Alexis got lost in the crowd until Morgan grabbed her arm and led her to a table overlooking the dance floor.

  “Girl, look at all these men,” Claire said excitedly, looking around the dimly lit club at the throngs of men who were standing at the bar, dancing or scattered about the club talking to various women. Alexis had to admit there were a lot of handsome and sexy men in the club that night. But she promised herself that she would not stray from her resolution; she was through with love and planned to keep her vow come hell or high water.

  “Welcome to the House of Blues, ladies. Can I get you anything to drink tonight?” a waitress in a black HOB uniform asked, placing three black cocktail napkins on the square table.

  Morgan ordered an apple martini. Claire asked for a chocolate martini for herself and then ordered a screaming orgasm for Alexis. “She really needs one,” Claire told the waitress, leaning close to her. Both women looked at Alexis as if she were some kind of charity case.

  “You know what, Claire? You are truly an asshole. Why would you say something like that?” Alexis griped after the waitress retreated. She was agitated, and had Claire not been one of her oldest and dearest friends, she would have punched her in the mouth.

  “It was just a joke; don’t be so sensitive.”

  “Excuse me, ladies, but the gentlemen in the corner would like to purchase your drinks for you,” the waitress said, returning to their table before going to the bar. Alexis, Morgan and Claire looked over at the dark corner where two men sat. Seeing the women looking at them, they smiled broadly, revealing entire top rows of gold teeth.

  “Oh, hell no!” Claire blurted loudly.

  “Could you please tell the gentlemen that we do appreciate the gesture, but that we would really prefer pay for our own drinks,” Alexis said, attempting to cover for Claire’s tactless outburst. The waitress took the message back to the men.

  “They are not the kind of guys I planned on meeting down here,” Claire said, wiping tears of laughter from her eyes.

  A crowd of mostly female club goers rushing the entrance prompted the three women to crane to see what the commotion was all about. “Where
in the world are all those women rushing to?” Alexis asked, half in an attempt to get a better view.

  The crowd parted like the Red Sea as five men nearly as tall as the archway they had just passed through stepped forward. The women, most of them clad in nothing more than what looked like underwear, were standing around them like little lost puppies and shamelessly making complete asses of themselves.

  “Look at those hoes,” Claire said, standing up so she could see over the crowd.

  “Are you trying to get a better look at the hoes or at who the hoes are falling all over?” Morgan asked, thanking the waitress and taking a sip of her green-apple martini.

  “Both.”

  The waitress placed Alexis’s screaming orgasm on her napkin and turned to Claire. “They play for the Hornets. I’ve seen them in here a couple of times, but not too often, mostly for special events and stuff.”

  As the waitress left to take other orders, Claire licked her lips and checked her cleavage.

  “I know you are not about to try to talk to them?” Alexis hissed in disbelief. She reached across the table and grabbed Claire by the wrist, pulling her back into her seat.

  “I most certainly am going to talk to them. Why shouldn’t I?” Claire stood again, smoothed out the tiny wrinkles in her dress and sauntered toward the five men.

  “I don’t know what makes her think that she can just walk over there and get these guys to talk with her. I mean, look at all those women. There’s no way that she’s going to get their attention.” Morgan took another sip of her martini and watched doubtfully as a determined Claire neared the men.