Full Figured 5

Home > Nonfiction > Full Figured 5 > Page 27
Full Figured 5 Page 27

by Brenda Hampton


  Okay, I thought. He’s more scared of me than I am of him. He didn’t even answer the question. Dang that was weird.

  I shook my head and proceeded to the office. I met with the staff to parcel off Sarah’s clients and to thank the staff for supporting me. Felicia was twisting in her seat like it was burning her butt and she couldn’t stand the heat. She kept grunting. I could tell she wanted to say something. Finally, she jumped in.

  “Sarah deserves what she got. She kept disrespecting you. I don’t know why you took so long to fire her.”

  Gwen, the other social worker, said, “She had to follow policy and procedures.”

  “I realize that, but that heifer should have been long gone.” Felicia finally stopped fidgeting.

  The others laughed and we chatted about having a program for our mothers that focused on Sudden Infant Death Syndrome. We selected a date and staffed the activity. Afterward, I went to my office to read my e-mail and instant messages.

  The first instant message was from Travis. It read: Who is the friend who likes me? That was the only thing the message said.

  I wrote back: What if I told you it was me. What would you say?

  Five minutes later, I received this e-mail: That wouldn’t be good. I work for you.

  I responded: So what! No one would know. I hit send.

  He responded: Have you ever done anything like this before? I mean, have an affair?

  I replied: Have you?

  He responded: No. What’s next?

  This whole conversation was tripping me out. I couldn’t believe that after all these months we were finally discussing this. So I responded: You tell me. This is a first for me. I nervously hit send.

  His next e-mail read: Let’s meet and talk. Malika, once you cross the line, there is no turning back.

  I became anxious, almost upset. I replied: What do you mean? I have never done this before. What are you saying? I thought you had never done this either.

  His next e-mail read: Hold your horses. I’m just saying we are taking a big step and once we do this, we can’t take it back. When can I see you?

  I got scared. Suddenly, I didn’t want to have sex. I wanted to talk and let that lead to it. This entire conversation had me terrified. I was a grown-ass woman who wanted this man’s dick so bad, I couldn’t concentrate. Now that it looked like I might be getting it, I totally freaked out. I was too nervous to type a response. I was sweating and my knee was bouncing up and down so hard it was slamming against my desk. The shit was about to hit the fan, and I couldn’t breathe. I hesitated before I typed again.

  I sent another instant message: Dang, I just can’t jump in bed with you. I need time to talk and to get to know you.

  “Okay, how stupid was that,” I whispered. I bit my lip until it bled. I was shaking. I was so nervous the words in my head became jumbled. I wanted him badly. Hell, I needed this. For months I’d been fantasizing and desiring this. I even prayed for this and, now, I was a mess. Please, Lord, don’t let me push him away.

  Travis replied: I need to see you just to talk, okay? We just need to talk.

  “Calm down, girl.” I was talking to myself and hyperventilating. You about to get this dick! Stop tripping. Be calm. Let this shit play out. Okay! I shook both my hands and flexed my fingers in and out. I stood up and paced the floor. I felt like a dumb teenager who had gotten herself into something much bigger than she could handle. I responded: What about Monday at five when my staff is long gone?

  Travis’s last e-mail read: Fine, I’ll see you then. Have a good weekend.

  I signed off: You do the same.

  After I signed off my e-mail, I felt excited. Finally! Now what? I started panicking. I couldn’t let another man see me naked. Oh my, I needed to diet. Suddenly, my anxieties were kicking in. I was terrified.

  After I collected my thoughts and reread the instant messages over and over, I went home. As I pulled into the garage, I got out of the car and walked into the front yard to speak to Li’l Dexter. He was playing with some neighborhood kids. I hugged him.

  As I headed to the garage, I saw Zena’s car coming into the subdivision and decided to wait for her to talk. I walked across the street and waited for her to get out of her car. “Hi, Zena. How are you?”

  “Girl, I’m fine today.”

  “I have that book for you on depression. Do you still feel sad?”

  “All the time. I am barely making it to work and back home. I find myself crying a lot.”

  “You should call your doctor. I know since you are in school for nursing you may think—”

  She interrupted me quickly. “Oh, no, girl. I don’t think I know everything. I am a student.”

  I unzipped my purse and reached in, pulling out the thin book. “I’ve been carrying this in my purse, waiting to see you.” I handed it to her. She glanced at it.

  “Thank you. The symptoms are listed here clearly.”

  “Good. Do you have any of those symptoms?”

  “I do and I’m so glad you brought this. Sometimes you don’t want to face your fears.”

  “Are you gonna call your doctor?”

  “Yes.”

  Zena pulled out her cell phone and called her doctor’s office. He wasn’t in, but she left a message to set an appointment.

  “Girl, thanks. I want to get better, because feeling in the dumps all the time is not much fun. Thanks for giving me the courage to seek help. I’ll let you know what’s going on.”

  “No problem. I’ll check on you this weekend.”

  As I prepared to cross the street, my cell phone vibrated. I answered it while looking back and forth to cross the street, checking for oncoming traffic. Not that there were many cars driving through our neighborhood, but you never knew.

  “Hi, this is Malika.” I said as I crossed the street and walked up my driveway.

  “Heifer, what are you up to this weekend?” Pamela asked.

  “I’m going to spend time with my family.” I stopped walking to concentrate on what I was saying.

  “Cool. You talked to Dexter about your issues?”

  “Yes, Pamela, I have and again he feels like there are no problems in our relationship. But he’s willing to go to counseling with me.”

  “See, I told you he would do what he had to. All you needed to do was to keep talking to him.” Pamela said as she smacked her lips together making a slurping sound like she was eating something.

  “Well, maybe there are no major problems to him. But I’m glad he agreed to go.” I shifted my purse to my left shoulder.

  “Counseling will help. But in order to work on your relationship you need to let that other shit go and keep building your home with your family. Ain’t shit out here in the streets.” Pamela giggled.

  “It ain’t like I’m trying to get in the street. I just want something to stir my juices up.”

  “As I said before, get stirred up at home.”

  “Okay Pam, let me check with you this weekend, okay?”

  “I’ll holler this weekend, love you girl.”

  “I love too, Pam.” I ended the call.

  Walking through the garage door into the kitchen I was hit with the smell of baked chicken, which was my favorite. Dexter could actually cook better than trained chefs. We had decided long ago that the first one to arrive home should start the cooking. This was because I usually had training in the evening for the staff. Today, he was busy cooking baked chicken, green beans, and Li’l Dexter’s favorite, spaghetti, which made me feel proud to be his lady. He topped that with a tossed salad. Honestly, I loved this man. He was a great husband, a tender sex partner, and a great provider. His weakness was he didn’t like to talk. He was quiet and generally didn’t like to be bothered. He wasn’t interested in my job or day-to-day activities and I just didn’t understand that. It pissed me off. How could I have a strong relationship when my partner only talked when he wanted to? That was our problem. I was being stimulated with conversation and Travis had that area
of my life cornered.

  Travis and I talked about everything. But one thing I couldn’t change and that was my love for my husband. I really wanted my marriage to work, but I wanted one time with Travis. I needed to feel him; then I could go back to loving and taking care of Dexter. After all, he was a good man and I wasn’t planning to lose him for anyone. Thinking about it, I was scared. What if I enjoyed sex with Travis and wanted to go back for more? Is this the reason I panic?

  That night, as I lay next to my husband after having sizzling sex, I silently cried. I cried because I cared for another man. I cried because I had done something so stupid. My mother always said never to say out loud what you wanted, because the devil would try to make sure you got it, so you would follow him. Stupid-ass me! I said I wanted Travis out loud, so the devil would let me have him. I loved God. I had been pleading with Him to let Travis and me get together, but He didn’t play that. So I said I wanted Travis out loud, so Satan himself would give me my desires. Now you know that was stupid. Now I lay in bed crying, ashamed of myself, because I was letting a man come between God and me. In my right mind I would never ever do something that stupid and crazy. Help me, God, please help me, I begged.

  “Malika.”

  “Yes.”

  “Are you crying?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Why?”

  “I don’t know. I’m scared of losing you.”

  Dexter sat up and put his arms around me. “I promise you. I’m not going anywhere. Whatever is bothering you, this counseling should help. I love you. I might not say it all the time but I pray my actions show you that.”

  “Thank you. I love you too.” I kissed him and we lay in each other’s arms until I fell asleep.

  Saturday was our church day. We are Seventh-day Adventists. It is also our family day. We went to church and visited with my mom and several of my family members and close friends. While at Mom’s, I saw my brother, Kurt. As usual, he was begging for money. This really pissed me off, so I avoided him until I spoke to my niece.

  “Malika, your brother, Kurt, stole my daughter’s Easter dresses, the ones you bought for her—the pink one with the jacket and the red and white one. He took them both,” Olivia’s mother, Nikina, said.

  “Are you serious? Oh, my God, I am going to kill that boy.”

  “He is always over here searching for something to steal and your mama just lets him.”

  “Mother,” I screamed through the house. “Where is that no-good son of yours? How dare he steal things that I bought? I want his head on a platter. That boy is a crackhead and he needs help. You have got to stop being an enabler.”

  Olivia stood there and asked, “Malika, what is an enabler?”

  “It is a person who supports an addict. You support him because you provide for his illness. You give him money and allow him to steal from your home because he is your son. There are no penalties for him because he is your child. But guess what? If you don’t let him hit rock bottom, he is going to continue to bring everyone else down with him.”

  “That boy will be all right. He said he doesn’t use drugs anymore.”

  “Well, if he doesn’t, who stole the baby’s clothes and why is your buffet almost empty? Mom, where is your fine china and expensive crystal glasses?”

  “I guess he took them.”

  “Okay, Mama, I am through with him. He better not ask me for a dime!” I screamed as I walked away.

  Later that evening, after we had our weekly family dinner at Ponderosa, Kurt showed up at Mama’s.

  “What’s up, Malika? Got some change?”

  “If you don’t get out of my face and get some help . . . Something is wrong when you steal children’s clothing to feed your habits. Go to treatment.”

  “Let me get out of here before you piss me off.”

  “Before I piss you off? You stole clothing I bought for a toddler. I’m the one who is pissed.”

  “Do you have a dolla’?”

  “Yeah, I have one, but you will never see another penny from me until you bring back those dresses.”

  Just like that, he walked out of the house. I was left so angry and deep down I knew he was sick, but I could not understand why drug addicts would not seek help when they sank as low as Kurt did. I also knew Kurt was gonna have a more difficult life if Mother didn’t stop enabling him. But I knew I had to stop worrying about folks who didn’t worry first about themselves. I decided I was through with this situation. Kurt was an addict and my mother was his enabler. I gave them both information on treatment options and phone numbers to call treatment centers and I left them.

  Chapter 16

  My Best Friends and Chicken Wings

  Early Sunday evening, I met Pamela and Zandra at Culpeppers Restaurant on Highway 67. We sat in a far corner of the restaurant, so we could have some privacy. We all ordered their hot famous chicken wings with blue cheese dressing. We laughed at Pamela as she described a sexual encounter she had years ago. As we ate our chicken wings and salads, she went on to tell the story about how she almost killed this man. As they were having sex, she would turn her butt to him and ask him to screw her from behind. Then she would flip over and offer her vagina to him. Seconds later, she would flip back over on her stomach and cock her legs to the side, so he could hit it from the back again. It was so funny how she was quickly turning over and giving instructions like a woman out of control. She said when she looked back, the man looked exhausted. She finally admitted she cried and apologized to him because she acted like an insatiable animal in heat.

  “Girl, you are too silly,” I said. “I can imagine your ass sticking up in the air. And you talk about me wanting Travis to dick me.”

  “Yeah, but I wasn’t getting nothing at home. At least you are.”

  “Well, keep in mind that sex isn’t everything and that you still need other stimuli to keep the fire burning.”

  Zandra joined the conversation. “You two are man hungry and crazy as hell. All y’all talk about is sex. You are both freaks.”

  “You got that right.” Pamela laughed.

  “So tell us, Ms. Thing, if you fuck Travis, what is going to stop you from falling in love?” Zandra asked.

  “Zandra, you are too late. She is already in love with Mr. Computer Man,” Pamela volunteered.

  “That’s not true,” I replied. “I really like him. I enjoy talking to him and—”

  Before I could finish my statement, Pamela said, “And you want to fuck him.”

  “Chill, Pamela,” I said. “You are a little too loud, folks are staring.”

  “Let them stare. Who gives a fuck?” she responded. “Now, let’s not get off track,” Pamela added. “We are here to convince Mrs. Hot in the Pussy to not do anything she doesn’t want to live to regret.”

  “Ladies, the only thing I am going to regret is not getting a chance to sample his dick.”

  “Look at you. You are getting too streetwise on us. Fantasizing about another woman’s husband will make you act like that.”

  “It’s not like I want to keep him.”

  “Yeah, that’s what you say now,” Zandra said “But guess what? Once you are with him, you are going to keep wanting more and that’s how women get messed up and fall in love.”

  “Maybe that’s true,” I somewhat agreed. Zandra was looking intensely at me.

  “Be careful,” she added.

  “So, you are not going to tell me not to do it with him?” I asked.

  “You are a grown woman,” Zandra said. “If you want to have sex with someone who is not your husband, that’s your business, but as your friend I say don’t do it. But you are going to do what you want anyway.” Zandra steadily looked at me intensely. “I just wish that as my friend you will listen.”

  Pamela clapped her hands. “Bravo. Bravo. What a speech.”

  “Fuck you, Pamela.” Zandra was getting upset.

  “Okay, my friends. Let’s call a truce. Let’s stop talking about this. We have so much mor
e to discuss. Plus, you all said clearly you didn’t want me to do anything. So we need to move forward.”

  “Although we don’t want you to get hurt, know that we love you and if you need to talk about anything about that situation, we are here for you.”

  “I know. Thank you, ladies!”

  As the evening wore on, we enjoyed each other’s company and talked about everything. The subject of Travis and me was closed, but not within my heart. I had a meeting at 5:00 P.M. on Monday with Travis. Tomorrow could not come soon enough. We were going to discuss our feelings.

  Monday, I met with my staff. As we discussed the upcoming workshop, the door to the office opened and in walked Travis. I couldn’t stop the smile that swept across my face if I wanted to. Several of the staff stared at me.

  They knew. Both of our faces said it all. We were smiling and staring at each other as if we were hungry for each other. We were worse than a bear eating steaks. So I did the only thing I could to get my staff out of our business. “Ladies, I am so sorry. I forgot about my meeting with Travis. I need to speak to him about some bids on the computer. Can you all finish up for me?”

  “Sure!” Felicia and Frances responded at the same time. I left the meeting, so I could see my baby.

  Felicia and Ingrid typed out a schedule for the staff to make sure everybody knew what their roles were. Sadly, I was a little embarrassed that they had to take over because I was so smitten. But what could I do? You can’t hide your feelings when they are all over your face. I tried to save face by making them think I had an emergency meeting I forgot about.

  “Malika, we need to talk. Would you walk outside with me?”

  “Yes, Travis.”

  I picked up my keys, locked the personnel cabinet, and walked out the door with him. As we walked to the elevator, I looked at him and he was staring at me.

  “What’s up?” I asked.

  “You! I have been thinking about us a lot and getting involved with you is unprofessional and wrong. I work for you. You are my boss.”

 

‹ Prev