Full Figured 5

by Brenda Hampton

  “I’m fine, Travis. How are you?”

  “I couldn’t be better. I just signed a huge deal, so things are really looking up for me.”

  “That’s great.”

  “Yeah. I’m interviewing network administrators, so if you know anyone, feel free to refer them to me.”

  “I’ll do that.”

  “What are you doing this weekend?” he asked.

  “Nothing much. I plan on going to church and visiting my folks.”

  He stood there, staring at me as if he had more to say. He looked as if he was trying to find the words to use, but as soon as he said, “Have you seen that movie—” Sarah butted into our conversation.

  “Hi, Travis,” she said, with the weirdest smirk on her face.

  “Hi,” he replied.

  He quickly turned back to me. But that fool grabbed his arm and pulled him toward her. “I have a question to ask you.”

  “What is it?” he asked as if he was agitated.

  “It’s my computer. I can’t open up my homepage. I’m not sure what’s happening, but when I turned it on to type in my password, it gave this message that my password is not valid. When I request to change it, it won’t allow me to.”

  “Well, I’ll look at it the next time I visit the office.” He started walking back toward me when she again grabbed his arm and asked, “Do you want to try to pin the dick on the cat? I mean, the tail on the cat?”

  Travis looked at that bitch in disgust. I didn’t have to say a word. His face told how he felt about the comment she had just made.

  She hung her head and walked away in shame. Bitch was thinking about his dick. That was why she said that shit. I knew her ass was embarrassed.

  He smiled at me. “I love to see little kids having a good time.” He turned his head and watched the children. A huge beach ball bounced in his direction and he giggled as he hit it back to the kids.

  “I know. I love throwing parties for the kids.”

  “That’s why I like you so much, Malika. I know you care.”

  I took his hand into mine and squeezed it. “Thank you.”

  We resumed talking about people, the happy children, and politics. He never finished asking me about the movie. I wasn’t sure if he was going to ask me to go with him. Sarah messed that one up for me. I had to remember that I owed her for that. It was going to take me a couple of days to come up with the assignment from hell to pay her ass back for interrupting Travis and me. Now I would probably never know whether he wanted to make me his mistress. For that, Ms. Sarah would pay dearly.

  Just as I turned to walk toward the food and beverage table, Felicia took the microphone and announced the Soul Train Line was forming. “For all the pumpkins, Jay Leno, and Michael Jackson wanna-bes, put on your dancing shoes and get ready to take a trip on the S-o-u-l T-r-a-i-n.” Felicia announced that like she was Don Cornelius himself. Suddenly, there was a stampede as the children and their parents ran toward the area where Felicia was standing. The music was turned up and the kids were dancing all over the place.

  After the kids and their parents had gone down the line once, my staff took their turns. I looked around and saw Travis. He was standing to the side, laughing and smiling, when one of the kids left the line and pulled him over. He was embarrassed, so he basically did something like a walk-dance down the aisle. He was just walking and stepping to the beat and every step or so he would bounce. The kids cracked up. Travis couldn’t dance.

  Felicia with her smart ass decided I needed to participate and get off the sidelines. She pulled me and asked me to go down the line with her. So we did the old-fashioned bump all the way down to the clapping and laughing of everyone. We had a ball.

  Finally, it was time for the day to end. We started cleaning up as the cabs returned to pick up their passengers. Travis stayed and helped us clean up the place. He stayed there until every family was gone. Sarah never did come around us again. She stayed away; I assumed she was too embarrassed to be in our presence. Who could blame her, because she actually made an ass out of herself.

  After I returned home, I started thinking about the evening with Travis. I thought about what he meant to me. It was strange he knew more about my job than my own husband and that made me sad. How could I not be attracted to a man who paid so much attention to me? My own husband didn’t even want to hear about my day, but here was this man, taking an interest in my life. Why wouldn’t Dexter try to act like he was interested in what I did? Yet I was falling for this guy and no matter how hard I tried to get my own husband to pay more attention to me, it was not working.

  I tried again to engage him in conversation when I returned home. “Hi, honey, what are you watching on television?” I asked in my sweetest voice.

  “What are you begging for now?” he asked sarcastically. “Some money?”

  “Every time I try to talk to you, it’s like pulling teeth.”

  “Well, don’t try to talk to me. Every time you say something, it’s about spending money and the answer is no.”

  Just that fast I was angry. Who in the hell did this bastard think he was? I worked every day and if I wanted something, you best believe I was going to get it. So brother man was wasting his time making a statement like that to me. “Your ass don’t rule me. Until you are taking care of me, you don’t tell me what I can and can’t do. If I want to spend some money, I will. You ain’t running shit up in here.”

  I stormed out of the living room and ran up the stairs to our bedroom. I lay face down on the bed and cried like a baby. “How come I can’t make this marriage work?” I whispered to myself.

  Li’l Dex walked into my bedroom and asked me what was wrong. I told him I was just upset about some things.

  “Anything that I can help you with?” he asked with concern in his voice.

  “No. I’ll be okay.” I sat up and hugged him tightly to my chest. “Don’t worry about me. I’m okay,” I said.

  He walked out of my bedroom, looking perplexed. He was such a good child. He played football and basketball and was very good at both. He brought home good grades.

  I was afraid he would end up like his father. I didn’t want that to happen. I was teaching him to communicate. All his young life, I had spent time telling him to talk about his issues, to share himself with his family and me. He was doing just that. He often expressed his feelings about girls and questioned his dad about math and biology. He had a good relationship with both his father and me. We were very proud of him. I certainly had no complaints. Dexter always attended his basketball and football games, as a proud father should.

  Dexter was taking advantage of me. He stopped taking me out as much as he used to. We went to a movie once every three or four months. We rarely did much of anything else. Thinking about it, our life together was very boring. His main goal was to save as much money as he could for the future. Whose future did he mean? Certainly not ours because he wouldn’t even talk to me.

  I had to keep trying to make my marriage work. I had to make him see that he was the one pushing me out of his life. So I jumped out of the bed and walked quickly to the stairs. Taking my time and trying to relax, I took some deep breaths. I walked slowly down the steps to make sure I wouldn’t trip. I had to keep my composure. I didn’t want him to burst out laughing.

  I sat on the couch next to him. “We need to talk.”

  “About what?”

  “About us. I’m trying hard to keep this marriage strong, but you won’t help.”

  “Malika, I don’t understand you. You have a man who is home every day and who takes care of his home by paying the bills and you are still not satisfied. I don’t know what else I can do to show you that I love you.”

  “You can take an interest in my life. You can act like you are interested in me and what I do.”

  “Why should I pretend? I am not interested in what you do on your job. But that doesn’t mean that I don’t care about you. If I didn’t care, I wouldn’t be here.”

&nbs
p; “Marriage is more than just being here. It is about sharing, communication, and respect. Half of the problem is I can’t count on you to listen to me. I need you to be interested in me and my job, or whatever makes me happy. I want you to be a part of everything in my life.”

  Dexter was getting frustrated. “You know me or you should. I love you. You know that a man who doesn’t love his family will not provide for them. I’m here and not running the streets. If you want to throw away our marriage on something stupid, then that’s on you.”

  “I am not trying to throw anything away. I just want you to spend time with me.”

  “I’m here, aren’t I?”

  I was not getting anywhere with this conversation. Either my husband didn’t understand or he didn’t care. I needed to find out and soon, because I couldn’t take much more of this. I got up and walked into the kitchen. He followed.

  “Malika, how many men do you know who cook almost daily for their family?”

  “Not many. I admit that.”

  “Isn’t that love? Am I showing my family how much they mean to me?”

  “I guess so. But why can’t we do things together?”

  “We go to the movies.”

  “Every three months,” I said.

  “But we go, don’t we?”

  “There’s more to entertainment than attending a movie every three months.”

  “You want to travel, go out of town?”

  “How far?” Hell, I wanted to know. Ever since the 9/11 tragedy, I was fearful of flying. So to take me away from St. Louis would be like pulling teeth.

  “That’s what I’m saying. What’s in St. Louis that we haven’t done?”

  “Theater, mystery dinner theatre, concerts, and parties.”

  “We’ve done all that. Why keep doing it?”

  “To be together and enjoy each other’s company.”

  “Okay, just plan something and I will go,” he stated. “I have no problem with that. Just let me know when.”

  I walked away, unsure of how I should’ve felt. Sure, he would go with me if I planned something. But rarely would he come up with an idea. I wanted more. Did I want passion and a listening ear? I thought that was what my heart was missing. I needed something else. I needed someone to desire me in the worst way. Or was I just bent out of shape and not sure what I wanted or needed because another man was paying attention to me? I was so confused.

  I wanted my husband to take an interest in my life. I needed him to understand my needs. I wanted him to love me like he did when we first got married. I wanted my husband to need me and if he couldn’t do that, Travis could. At least that is what I wanted to believe. But if I really looked deep inside of me, I wasn’t sure what the fuck I wanted.

  Chapter 10

  Daydreaming and I’m Thinking of You

  The weekend came and went. I spent it mostly hot and moist between the legs. Who would have ever thought you could want a man so bad that when you thought about him, you became wet? Well, that’s what happened to me the whole damn weekend. I thought about Travis’s dick. Was I obsessed with having some of that man or was I so hard up for love that I couldn’t let go of wanting him inside of me? It was just like I was walking around with a hard dick in my pussy. Otherwise, how was I staying so horny for him all day?

  If Travis knew my obsession with him, would he visit me at the office as much as he did or would he have simply sent one of his technicians? Better yet, maybe he knew I desperately wanted to fuck him and suck on his earlobes, his nose, and whatever part of him that I could have. Mmm, I could imagine tasting him right now. His skin would taste so good like hot chocolate, supple and smooth. I had to get this boy out of my head. He made me constantly think of sexing him to death. This was not me, not the person I knew. I had enough work to do than to sit here day in and day out, thinking about sucking another man’s dick, especially when I didn’t want to do my own husband’s.

  Monday morning, I walked into the office with a plan to do research via the Internet on single working women making low salaries, so I could write a grant. As I typed in the subject on the address line of the Internet, my phone rang. It was Dexter. “Hey, babe, would you pick up my clothes from the cleaners? I have to work late tonight, so you will have to cook dinner, too.”

  “No problem. I’ll leave work early today.”

  Just as I hung up the phone, Sarah walked in, took a seat, and asked, “How was your weekend?”

  “It was great. What about yours?” I asked, not really wanting to know.

  “It was fine. I cooked a big meal. Some collard greens, fried chicken, yams, macaroni, cheese casserole, and cornbread.”

  “I know all six of your kids came for dinner. That sounds like a wonderful, delicious meal. Sounds like you slaved over the stove the entire weekend.”

  “Not really. I enjoy cooking for my family.”

  I started to say something negative, but decided to continue to remain professional. I wanted to ask her if all six of her children’s daddies came, but decided that since she was being pleasant, I should be too. Just as we began to have a decent conversation—and don’t think for one second I let my guard down—Sarah asked, “You talked to Travis over the weekend?”

  “I don’t get you, Sarah. Why in the world would you think that I talked to Travis over the weekend?”

  “I just asked because I thought you all were friends,” she said, as she rolled her eyes to the top.

  If I was not careful, this girl was going to catch me off guard and make me cuss her ass out in front of witnesses. But I kept my cool. “Travis and I are not friends. We are business associates. Please let me explain what that means, since you have never worked in management. It simply means that we only communicate about the work he was hired to do in the office. This means that I have no reason to talk to him outside of the office unless it is about something involving his work under that contract. For your information, I would not hire a friend to work for me unless I was absolutely sure that they could handle such a feat. I would never lose a friend over work issues. So to make a long explanation short enough for you to understand, Travis is not my friend. He is a contractor who bid on work and won a contract.”

  “Oh, I see. I understand.” Sarah sat in that chair as if she were glued to the seat. She did not budge.

  “Do you have anything else you would like to say?” Damn, I thought. I should slap my own face for engaging her further.

  Crossing her legs at the knees, this heifer thought she was getting ready to get me to gossip with her. “Did you hear what Felicia did?”

  “No, what did she do?”

  “She was getting all in Frances’s face about something she didn’t want to do. Did you hear about that, since you hear about everything else?”

  “So what are you trying to say?”

  “Well, you know everyone around here thinks that you and Felicia are too close. But like I say, these people around here are a major trip. They are always talking behind each other’s backs. Be careful, Malika. All they do is sit around and talk about Travis. Everybody wants him, you know.”

  “No, I didn’t know that. The people here should concentrate on helping our mothers find jobs that pay more than minimum wage. They should work on their files and other things that they need to do rather than harass a contractor.”

  “But, Malika, sometimes it is hard to work when he is around because he is so fine.”

  “Well, maybe you all need to think about whether or not you can work around here, because we need contractors for various jobs and we have so much work to do that we don’t have time to gawk at men doing work to support this office.”

  “I know what you mean, but sometimes it’s hard. Malika, you know he is fine.”

  “You can’t run a business getting involved because of how someone looks.”

  “Malika, how do you keep it so together? I feel like no matter how hard I try, I just can’t seem to make my life work. I want what everybody else has: a happy f
amily, a man who loves me, and peace at home.”

  “Remember, you can’t look at people’s lives through rose-colored glasses. The grass really isn’t always greener on the other side. You must find your own peace. What makes you happy?” I suddenly felt sorry for Sarah. Her eyes seemed to have a cast over them, like a cloud had just covered up her sun. Here she was, looking pitiful and lost. She was seeking solace from me—the person she hated and despised the most. I felt good, but not proud that here, the troublemaker in the office, was crying on my shoulder. All I kept thinking was this bitch was trying again to set me up. I shrugged off my attitude to embrace this lost sister. “You have your health,” I said. “Your children are happy and seem to be doing well. They are not in jail, on drugs, or preg . . .” I tried to take that one back, because Felicia told me Sarah’s twelve-year-old daughter was pregnant.

  “Well, I’m healthy, but things can be better. See, you have everything together.”

  “You can too. If you know what you want.”

  “Do you find Travis attractive?” she asked.

  See, that was what pissed me off. First, she walked in my door, tried to get in my business, and I impeded that, only to be given enough information to make me feel sorry for her, then she came up with this shit about Travis. Now I was boiling. But I did what Pamela had told me to do when we were ten years old—take deep breaths and exhale. This was supposed to make me feel better. I needed my best friend to talk to me now, so I could calm myself down; you know, remain professional.

  Finally, after much deliberation, I said, “I’m not going to discuss Travis with you, because it is not professional to discuss the business of workers, contractors, or anyone unless there are problems that I need to address. Please don’t discuss your personal feelings about workers with me. It is unprofessional and out of line.”

  “How come every time I bring his name up you get an attitude? Maybe, Malika, you need to check yourself too, because you get so angry at the mention of his name.”

  I tried to figure out how I could respond to that question, remain the sweet person I was, and put her in check. This sister just didn’t get it. I mean, was she that desperate or what? I wasn’t going there with her today. I would not let this girl bring me down.