Distant Lover

by Gloria Mallette

  “Brent, we haven’t seen each other in more than twenty years. These two days together have been wonderful and—”

  “And the rest of our life will be just as wonderful. I know you don’t doubt that.”

  “Not that I doubt it, I just think we should get to know each other again before we make such a serious commitment. Actually, I think it would be fun to date for a while.”

  “Baby, dates are for kids. I’m a man who likes having a serious relationship.”

  “That’s good to know,” she said, realizing she hadn’t given much thought to what it might mean to really be with him. “But, Brent, suppose you don’t like that I clip my toenails in bed?”

  “Hand them to me, I’ll eat ’em.”

  She slapped him on the arm. “That’s disgusting.”

  “There is nothing disgusting about you, baby. I wanna be with you. I don’t want another twenty years to get by us.”

  Tandi lay down again and nestled up against Brent’s strong, warm body. Isn’t this what she wanted? “I need a little time to get my son used to the idea. My son is pretty attached to his father, and I don’t wanna scare him into not wanting to live with me.”

  “How about a week?”

  “Brent, I need more time than that. I can’t put a timetable on my son’s well-being.”

  “Okay, two. That’s my final offer,” he said, gently massaging Tandi’s breasts. “I don’t want you to change your mind.”

  “We’ll see,” she said, not wanting to be pressured into cementing their relationship before she had time to catch her breath. “How about your children, Brent? Are you close to them?”

  “My ex-wives are vindictive. I left them, so they figure they can punish me by keeping my children from me.”

  “They can’t do that legally. Have you filed for visitation?”

  “I did for my daughter, but her mother gave me a hard time every time I went to pick her up, so I let it go. I didn’t bother to file for my sons. They’ve already been brainwashed. That’s why I moved back to New York—out of sight, out of mind.”

  “Oh, Brent, I’m so sorry,” she said, hugging him. “I think that’s awful. You have a right to see your children.”

  “Tell their mothers that.”

  “Are you paying child support?” Tandi didn’t know what made her ask that question.

  “Every payday, but I don’t wanna talk about that. Being back with you is the only thing on my mind.”

  They made love again. This time they were slower, but they were no less passionate. Hungrily, Tandi took all Brent was willing to give. He wanted her to stay the night. She couldn’t. She needed to be where Michael Jared could reach her if he had to. As soon as she walked into Sporty’s house, she went straight to the telephone in the living room. Her mood was lighter, the tenseness had lifted from her body, and she was well sated. She felt like talking to Michael Jared after all.

  “He’s sleeping,” Glynn said sleepily.

  She was a little disappointed. “How is he? Was he upset?”

  “Not at all. He and Sean played computer games after they did their homework.”

  “Did he speak to Jared?”

  “No, we couldn’t reach him. He wasn’t at home or at his office and his cell phone was taking messages.”

  “I’m not surprised,” she said, starting to feel badly again. Jared must have been with Evonne all day. “Glynn, thanks for taking Michael Jared. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  “Tandi, by the way, your son doesn’t want to be called Michael Jared anymore. He wants to be called MJ.”

  “He said that?”

  “Yes.”

  “Jared is the only one who calls him MJ. I’ve never particularly liked it.”

  “Well, just so you know, he does.”

  “Why has he never told me?”

  “Probably because you’re his mother and you’d try and talk him out of it.”

  “I would not.”

  “Then maybe it’s just a male thing. Hey, whatever. He wants to be called MJ.”

  “MJ, it is,” she conceded, though her feelings were hurt. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  “By the way, you sound better.”

  “Yeah, I feel better. Good night.” If Glynn only knew how much better she really felt and why, he’d have a fit. He’d find out soon enough about Brent, but this name thing with Michael Jared wanting to be called MJ, that concerned her. Jared had called him that almost from birth, and although she had noticed he responded to it right away, she had continued to call him Michael Jared because she liked the way the two names rolled off her tongue. Perhaps what was bothersome about him wanting to be called MJ was the thought that maybe, subconsciously, he wanted to be with Jared and not her. She could not lose her son to Jared, especially if Jared was going to be with Evonne. There was no way she would allow Evonne to be a part of Michael Jared’s life. That was never going to happen. But she had to stop thinking about Evonne and Jared. They were ruining the afterglow of her blissful evening. If they wanted to be together, then so be it. She was going to be with Brent.

  Sporty had not gotten back from Atlantic City. She had the house to herself, but she didn’t feel like going up to her room. Turning on the television, she stretched out on the sofa and let herself sink into the deep thick cushions. She could rest for now, knowing that her life was looking up right nicely.

  28

  Jared didn’t know why he went back to the bar, but this time he had enough sense to not drink what he couldn’t handle. A glass of sparkling club soda was a safe bet after the day he’d had. Tandi didn’t show up with MJ. That didn’t surprise him. It was the tear that slipped from his eye right out in front of his office that did. He kept his face turned away from the office because he knew Marci was watching him sitting out there waiting for Tandi. By four o’clock he knew for sure Tandi wasn’t coming and since he couldn’t handle being at work with Marci’s questioning eyes on him, he pulled off when more tears threatened. He found himself on the Southern State Parkway headed out to Long Island with no particular destination in mind, just a long, endless drive to clear his head and to be alone with his thoughts. He didn’t think his life could get any worse, yet he didn’t think he’d ever find a way to make it better. Damn. It would be his luck that after having problems with getting it up for Tandi he would get drunk and get it up with Evonne with no problem—that is that he knew of. He had gone and bought the Irish moss like Les the bartender had suggested but he hadn’t touched it—it was still sitting unopened in the refrigerator. It was his bad luck that his nature, when it least needed to, would rise on its own without any urging from him. What a cruel joke.

  It was late when he got back to Queens Village, but there was no reason to go home. He ended up back at Les’s Bar, the place of his total undoing.

  Les stood in front of Jared, his hands resting on the bar. “Going it alone tonight?”

  “I should have gone it alone last night.”

  “You didn’t seem like you were hurtin’ none. Your wife made sure of that.”

  “That wasn’t my wife.”

  “Man, you coulda fooled me. That babe was on you like white on rice, like stripes on a zebra. Man, the way you talked about your wife, I thought it was her.”

  Jared shook his head solemnly.

  Leaning in closer, his elbows on the bar, Les whispered, “Couldn’t get it together with your old lady?”

  “Never got a chance.”

  “Man, you know how women are. They play hard to get when they’re mad. They want you to crawl on your hands and knees until your bones poke through. Didn’t your daddy ever give you lessons in crawling?”

  Jared chuckled sourly. “No, but I tell you, after what happened this morning, I’d crawl on my belly if my wife would even consider talking to me.”

  “What happened this morning?”

  Jared pulled back. “You’re mighty nosy, aren’t you?”

  Les laughed. “When it comes to my customers, I l
ike to say, I’m sympathetically curious. Talk to me, brother. I might be able to help.”

  “No one can help me with this.”

  “Give me a chance. Marriages are my speciality. What happened this morning?”

  Les’s eyes reminded Jared of a dog hungrily watching his master prepare to hand him his dinner. The only thing Les wasn’t doing was letting his tongue hang out.

  “C’mon, man, talk.”

  Jared did feel like talking. “That woman you saw me with last night was my wife’s best friend.”

  “You didn’t.”

  He barely moved his head, but he nodded.

  “Did you get caught?”

  Jared barely blinked.

  “Aww, man,” Les said, pushing away from the bar. He raised his hands to his head and quickly dropped them. “You’re not supposed to get caught.”

  Jared glanced from one end of the bar to the other. No one was looking at him, but a woman was looking at Les. “C’mon, man. Hold it down.”

  Les lowered his voice. “Boy, you should be beat over the head with a stupid stick.”

  “Why don’t you tell me something I don’t know.” Jared was annoyed with himself for opening his big mouth. That’s all he needed was to be told how stupid he was. He pulled three singles from his wallet and tossed them onto the bar. He stood.

  Les pushed the bills back toward Jared. “Hold on. Don’t be so hasty. I just didn’t expect that from you, especially knowing how you feel about your wife. Sit down.”

  Only because he still didn’t want to go home, Jared climbed back on the stool and immediately drank his club soda. He brought the glass down hard on the bar and pushed it aside.

  “That’s rough, man,” Les said sympathetically. “You drank a lot last night. I knew you wasn’t a drinker but I thought you had it under control.”

  “Control, my ass. I was blind drunk. I didn’t even see it coming.”

  “The girlfriend ate you alive, huh?”

  “Man, I can kick my own ass.”

  “Your wife isn’t hearing a thing you say, is she?”

  “Not a word.”

  Les took Jared’s glass and put it in a pan under the bar. “I know a guy who was caught by his wife, not one time, not two times, but three times. Mind you, he wasn’t drunk, he knew what he was doing.”

  “Is his wife still with him?”

  “Nope. She left him after the third time but he didn’t care. He always had a woman waiting in the wings. He used to say, ‘Man, if your wife ever catch you in bed with another woman, deny, deny, deny. And if she don’t believe you, recruit a spare.’ ”

  That irritated Jared. “That’s dumb. How does anyone deny something like that when he’s caught with his pants down?”

  “That dude? Easy. He told me once if he got caught on top of his own mother, he’d go to his grave denying it.”

  “A real asshole,” Jared said. “Man, don’t tell me anything else that idiot said, but I do wanna know how he got his wife to forgive him after the first two times.”

  “Hell, man, he said he kissed her ass every which way but the wrong way. And I can tell you, he had some big-ass lips, so you know he did some big-ass kissing. That dude had the kind of lips that cover the whole top of a beer can and half the label down the side when he turns the can up to his mouth. Now that was a sight to behold.”

  Jared wasn’t amused. He didn’t crack a smile.

  Les sucked air through his front teeth. “Man, you’d ruin a stag party.”

  Jared still didn’t react.

  “Anyway,” Les said flatly, “the short of it is, the dude’s wife forgave him. A year later he got caught again but those lips weren’t hitting on a damn thing. He said his wife tried to scratch his eyeballs out.”

  “I never thought I’d say this,” Jared said, “but he’s one dude his wife should have castrated.”

  “Ouch,” Les said, frowning. “Man, castration for infidelity will never get my vote. That’s extreme cruelty and inhumane punishment. I’d rather you cut off my head.”

  “That’s—”

  “You know what head I mean.”

  Jared began chuckling softly at first then a little louder. Though he was laughing on the outside, inside, he was miserable. Ironically, he was in a way sentencing himself for what he’d done to Tandi. No way did he want to lose his manhood, but at that awful moment when he saw the devastated look in her eyes, he might have complied as humbly as any candidate of eunuch school. He had never been so ashamed.

  “Jared, man, go see your wife.”

  He shook his head. “She won’t let me near her.”

  “Then call her.”

  “I don’t think—”

  “Don’t think, man. Just do it. Women love that sort of thing. Do you want her back?”

  Jared lowered his eyes. He was close to tearing again. Damn, he was messed up. He hadn’t cried this much since his brother died and before that, never as a man.

  “Well, do you?”

  “Yeah,” he said, looking up again.

  “Then call her and beg like a man looking down the barrel of a shotgun. I mean if you think about it, you are begging for your life.”

  He nodded pensively.

  Les reached back and picked up the cordless telephone on the shelf. “It’s on the house.”

  Jared started to take the telephone but realized he would have no privacy. Les would want to listen to every word, and he wasn’t into begging in front of an audience.

  “I have my cell phone out in my car.”

  “I’m on your side, brother. I feel your pain.”

  “Thanks.” Jared lightly thumped fists with Les.

  “Let me know how it goes. I’m not closing up until midnight.”

  On the way out the door, Jared raised his thumb, thanking Les, but Les’s advice wasn’t enough. He was going to say a little prayer before calling Tandi.

  29

  In the hazy dawning of her awakening, Tandi could hear Sporty saying, “I don’t know, Jared. You know how stubborn Tandida is. I’ve never been able to talk sense into her myself.”

  Wide awake, Tandi sat up and looked across the living room to the étagère where the telephone usually sat. It was not there and neither was Sporty anywhere to be seen. The telephone cord lay on the floor snaking its way through the archway of the living room out into the hallway, disappearing somewhere down the hall. Tandi hadn’t heard the telephone ring but she was certain Jared, who had to have found out she was at Sporty’s from Michael Jared, must have called because Sporty would not have called him. They hadn’t spoken in years. The last time was five years ago when Jared told Sporty he didn’t like the way he spoke to her. The two of them argued. Jared was kicked out of Sporty’s house never to step foot in there again. The fact that they were speaking now could only mean that neither meant her any good.

  “Come over and talk to her yourself. I—”

  “No!” Tandi bolted off the sofa. She sprinted out into the hallway.

  Sporty stood halfway down the hall holding the telephone base in his left hand and the receiver to his ear. He stared at her.

  “I don’t want him coming here.”

  “Let me talk to her,” Jared said.

  Sporty held the receiver out to Tandi. “Tell him yourself.”

  “Hang up the phone, Daddy.”

  “This is my phone. You don’t tell me what to do.”

  “I said, hang up the damn phone! I don’t wanna speak to Jared, and I most certainly do not want to see him.”

  “Tell him yourself.”

  “Daddy, this is not your call. I will not speak to Jared, and you should not be speaking to him either.”

  “You don’t tell me who I should or should not be speaking to. This is my damn house and my damn telephone. I’ll speak to anyone I damn well please, and I will have anyone I want in my house, including Jared Crawford.”

  “You must really hate me.”

  Sporty brought the receiver back to his e
ar. “Jared, Tandida got her ass up on her shoulders about something. With her nasty attitude, I can see why you had to put her out.”

  “Mr. Belson, I did not put Tandi out.”

  Tandi glared at Sporty. “You’re a vicious old man.”

  “Girl, don’t make me draw back my hand.”

  Jared shouted, “Mr. Belson, what’re you doing?”

  The last time Sporty threatened to hit her, Tandi had just graduated high school and even back then, although he intimidated her, he had to know she wouldn’t stand still for him putting his hand on her. Her anger at him, then and now, gave her the strength to stand strong. She stared him down, daring him to hit her.

  Sporty saw that Tandi wasn’t afraid. “I’m your father, girl. You give me my due!”

  “Mr. Belson! Mr. Belson, leave her alone!”

  Tandi felt strong. “Have you ever given me my due, Daddy? You have always treated me worse than any bum on the street. You’re a hateful, bitter old man.” She watched Sporty’s eyes shrink into tiny brown peas right before her eyes. She wondered if he was thinking about hitting her with the receiver he gripped so tightly.

  Listening on the line, Jared felt helpless. He could not believe he had made things even worse for Tandi.

  Sporty wasn’t backing down. “It’s because of you that I’m bitter.” “Blame me, as usual. Aren’t you getting sick and tired of that same old song? This is why you don’t deserve my respect.”

  “That’s the thanks I get for raising another man’s bastard.”

  Tandi gasped. She felt the blood drain from her face.

  “Goddamnit, Mr. Belson!” Jared screamed. “What the hell are you saying?”

  “Don’t be cussing at me, boy! I ain’t nobody to play with.”

  Tandi was livid. She struggled to understand what Sporty had just said. That’s the thanks I get for raising another man’s bastard. As mean as Sporty had always been to her, and as often as she wished he wasn’t her father, strangely, she was not the least bit happy to hear him finally say she was some other man’s child.

  “You’re a vicious old bastard!” Jared shouted into Sporty’s ear.