Distant Lover

by Gloria Mallette

Evonne saw Jared go to the back of the house. She pulled the door up. “So, Michael Jared, how are you? Are you okay?”

  “Uh-huh,” he answered as he walked toward the SUV.

  “A night out with your dad,” Evonne said, walking along with MJ. “That’s gonna be great fun,

  “Uh-huh.”

  At the front of the SUV they stopped. Evonne glanced back at the front door. She lowered her voice. “I can’t remember the last time I went to the movies. I don’t have anyone to go with, and I hate going alone. I would love to go with you and your dad. Would that be all right with you?”

  “It’s boys’ night out, Miss Evonne.”

  “That’s cool. I’d love to go with you guys. Wouldn’t that be cool, Michael Jared? Wouldn’t you like that?”

  Uncertain, MJ glanced back at the door.

  “See, Michael Jared, it could still be boys’ night out. If I went, I would just watch the movie and not say a thing. You wouldn’t mind that, would you?”

  MJ dropped his eyes. “Um, I guess not.”

  “Michael Jared, you want me to come, don’t you?”

  MJ again glanced back at the front door. “I guess. You should ask my dad though.”

  Evonne, too, glanced furtively back at the door. “Maybe,” she said in a hushed voice, “if you ask your dad if I could come along, it’ll be okay.”

  Anxiously looking at the door, MJ bit down on his lower lip.

  “All three of us could have a lot of fun, MJ.”

  “You really wanna come?”

  “I’d like to, but only if you want me to.”

  MJ lightly kicked the front tire of the SUV. “I guess.”

  “Michael Jared, I won’t come if you really don’t want me to. Do you want me to?”

  MJ shrugged.

  “Are you sure?”

  “I guess.”

  “Let’s get going, MJ.” Jared quickly locked the front door and bounded over to the SUV. Unlocking it with his remote, he pulled the door open for MJ. “Good-bye, Evonne.”

  Evonne quickly put her arm around MJ’s shoulders, holding him back from climbing up into the SUV. With a single finger, she tapped him firmly on the upper arm.

  MJ lowered his eyes. “Dad,” he said, softly, “can Miss Evonne go with us?”

  It wasn’t hard for Jared to read MJ—he was avoiding looking him in the eye and the earlier excitement was gone from his voice. “Not tonight, son, it’s our night.”

  MJ started to smile but Evonne, smiling herself, tapped him again.

  “He wants me to come, Jared. Right, Michael Jared?”

  MJ, his eyes again lowered, said nothing.

  If he hadn’t already been a victim of Evonne’s scheming, Jared would not have believed what she was doing with MJ right before his eyes.

  “MJ, get in,” Jared ordered.

  “Jared, I would love to come. It would be fun.”

  MJ quickly slipped from under Evonne’s arm and climbed up into the SUV. He scooted across to the passenger seat, claiming his place.

  As he closed the door, Jared glimpsed MJ’s furrowed brow. Without a doubt, it was Evonne’s idea to come with them. She was disgustingly conniving.

  Jared grabbed Evonne and pulled her away from his SUV, out of earshot of MJ. He squeezed her arm. “Don’t you ever try to use my son again. In fact, you stay your conniving ass away from him and away from me.”

  Evonne tried to pull her arm free. Jared was hurting her. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. Michael Jared asked me to come. Ask him.” She called out, “Michael Jared, didn’t—”

  Jared snatched Evonne hard. “Leave him alone!”

  “Jared, please let me come. I’ll see the movie and you can bring me back here to my car afterward. Then I’ll go home.”

  “You listen to me, Evonne. Stay the hell away from me and my son. Stop calling my house, stop showing up at my door. You call or come around here again, I’ll get a restraining order so fast, you’ll get whiplash from being served. And if I have to file charges against you, I will do it gladly. Now, get the hell out of here.” Jared punctuated his threat with a light shove.

  “Jared, please.”

  Jared climbed up into his SUV and slammed the door.

  “Okay, Jared,” Evonne said pleasantly, forcing herself to smile. “Maybe next time.”

  Jared backed quickly out of the driveway.

  Evonne waved. “Bye, Michael Jared. Enjoy the movie.”

  Through the rearview mirror, Jared watched Evonne wave. The woman had to be out of her damn mind. She was trying to insinuate herself into his life and mess with his head. She had played him that night he slept with her, and for all he knew, she was playing Tandi, too. The woman was a snake and, apparently, Tandi never suspected.

  “Dad.”

  “Yeah, MJ.”

  “I didn’t want her to come with us.”

  “Don’t worry about it, son. I got your back.”

  35

  In four days, Sporty was coming home. After two weeks in the hospital flat on his back and six weeks more in a rehabilitation center getting speech and physical therapy so he could at least learn to turn over on his own and get himself up off the bed and into his wheelchair. He was coming home with the blessing of all who had worked with him. He had been a terror.

  For two nights Tandi had been unable to sleep. She dreaded Sporty’s return and hated she had to be there for it. Sporty was not going to be able to live alone; he needed constant care. He couldn’t cook for himself, he couldn’t dress himself, he couldn’t get in and out of the tub by himself, and, as yet, he couldn’t go to the bathroom by himself. For the time being, she was forced to stay because Glynn wasn’t going to. He was bringing Sporty home but she doubted he’d do much more. In fact, it was surprising he had found time to visit Sporty nearly every day, even if it was but a quick minute; minutes more than she did. She had refused to go see him after the first three weeks. She had grown tired of seeing the angry, accusatory look in his eyes. If Sporty could have spoken coherently and not made the gobbled grunting sounds he’d been making since he woke up, he would have cursed her for sure. As it was, he glared at her constantly, and with the right side of his mouth drooping, he appeared to be sneering at her.

  For sure, Sporty was angry at her and about his situation, but she was angry, too. Her new life had to be put on hold. She had to give up her new apartment, she had to delay adding more hours to her work schedule, and she had to give up Michael Jared. The more time he spent with Jared, the more he wanted to be with him. He asked to go live with Jared full time once he learned Sporty was coming home, and although Sporty wasn’t going to be home for a while when Michael Jared asked, he still didn’t want to be in Sporty’s house. With a heavy heart, she let him go. She didn’t want to make his life any more difficult than it was. The irony of it was, she was now spending less time with him than Jared used to.

  God, her life was miserable. Not only couldn’t she be with Michael Jared, things weren’t what she had hoped they would be with Brent. Something wasn’t right. She couldn’t figure out what it was, she just felt that something wasn’t. She spent a lot of time with him, mostly making passionate love that left her sexually sated for the moment, but that seemed to be all there was between them. They didn’t go out much nor did they talk much about anything of consequence. She couldn’t say she was happy about that, especially since she had begun to notice Brent was all about himself. He no longer indulged in the foreplay that fed her carnal senses like he did the first weeks they were together. Instead, he wanted her to constantly massage his naked body until her fingers cramped, and she was tired of touching him. Oh, Brent still said the right things to keep her coming back, but he, at times, when she couldn’t come, pouted and held back from making love to her the next time they got together.

  Like that evening, Brent was acting like a spoiled child. “I’m just a little tired tonight,” he said, yawning.

  Yet, for all his so-called tiredness, Tand
i saw that Brent was as naked as a hairless cat with an erection as big as a Polish kielbasa. Apparently, his tiredness was only a state of mind. She watched him lay on top of the bed on his back with his arms straight out from his body. She knew immediately what he wanted—he wanted her to work for his loving. He wanted her to massage his body by rubbing her oil-covered body all over him, slithering over him like she was a snake, while he lay prostrate, outstretched with his eyes closed, relishing the smooth, erotic feel of her body on his tantalized skin. Then he wanted her to kiss him anywhere and everywhere her lips and tongue dared. Oh yes, he made her work for the loving he now knew she craved, and that was sad. She had come to realize she needed to get lost in an orgasmic session of lovemaking so she could forget, for a little while anyway, that her life wasn’t turning out like she had envisioned. All that, Brent was aware of, which was why he smiled as she took off her clothes, but she had no intention of doing any of what he wanted tonight.

  Brent made love to her anyway, and as soon as he grunted his last thrust, he leaped off her, unceremoniously uncorking her like she was a wine bottle. She felt like a hooker. Brent had never done that to her before. He bound across the room to his bureau and pulled out the bottom drawer. From it, he took out a round, royal blue tin, the kind that fancy candy or nuts came in. He brought it back to the bed.

  Tandi could see it wasn’t a new tin—it had a few dents in it. Curious, she sat up.

  “I got us something to enhance that good feeling we got going on between us,” he said, pulling off the top and holding the tin out for Tandi to see.

  Her jaw dropped. There was no candy, there were no nuts. There were three small, clear plastic snack bags—one held what had to be marijuana, another had two tiny vials of white looking rocks, and the third had about a tablespoon of white powder Tandi assumed was cocaine. Brent was smiling at her like he had shown her his secret cache of gold coins. This, Tandi didn’t need, and Brent didn’t seem to notice her pulling back from him as he was busy putting two thin sheets of bamboo paper together. That’s when she saw the small glass pipe. She had heard and read enough to know this tin of contraband wasn’t for an anti-drug using naysayer like herself.

  Tandi wrapped the sheet around her body. “I don’t like this. I don’t do drugs.”

  Brent gingerly sprinkled marijuana onto the paper held between his fingers. “Baby, this is purely recreational—it’s like an aphrodisiac. I don’t do hard drugs.”

  She looked at him like he was stupid. “Crack? Cocaine? The last time I heard, those were hard drugs.”

  Brent opened the bag with the cocaine in it. “Baby, I use only a little of this stuff when I’m stressed out. It mellows me out. If you had seen me when I got home this afternoon, you wouldn’t’ve wanted to be around me.”

  “What? Are you saying you’re high now?”

  “Baby, relax. We only have to smoke one joint to get a nice buzz.” He sprinkled a pinch of cocaine over the marijuana.

  “We won’t be smoking a joint.”

  Brent looked at her. “Don’t tell me you don’t smoke once in a while.”

  “I have never smoked. The question is, why didn’t you tell me that you did?”

  “It’s no big deal,” he replied, rolling the joint between his thumbs and forefingers.

  She could not believe how delusional Brent was. Suddenly, she did not want to be there. Now she knew what she had only sensed when she felt something wasn’t right. Brent was a drug user. Was this something Glynn also knew about him way back in high school?

  “Baby, this is light stuff. I smoked my first joint when I was fourteen years old. I never smoked around you—you were so sweet and innocent.” He leaned in to kiss Tandi.

  She pulled back. “Well, don’t do it around me now. I’m still innocent—or should I say naive?”

  Brent stroked Tandi’s cheek with the back of his hand. “Baby, you’re not naive. You’re sweet.”

  His touch left her cold. What she was, was blind. How had she not seen the signs? And now that she was thinking about it, there had been signs. Brent’s eyes were always glassy, and there were times she smelled something and couldn’t quite put her finger on what it was because there was always incense burning. Now that he told her, she knew the smell. When she was younger she had gone to parties and sat in movie theaters where the smoke hovered and drifted, giving nonsmokers contact highs. One time she had zonked out and bumped her head on the back of her seat. She never did get to see the movie. She didn’t like it then, no way was she going to like it now.

  Brent ran his tongue along the edge of the paper. “C’mon, baby,” he said, quickly sealing the joint. “Don’t tell me your husband never took an occasional hit.”

  “No, he never did,” she said indignantly. She watched Brent slip the whole joint into his mouth and out again, wetting it. “Brent, I’m not comfortable with this. I don’t like you doing this.”

  “Chill, baby. I told you it’s no big deal.”

  “Chill? I will not chill out. Brent, I am against illegal drugs. You smoke crack, too, don’t you?”

  He glimpsed the glass pipe and the crack vials. “Oh, that? A friend gave me that. It’s nothing. I don’t mess with crack.”

  “Then why would your friend give you that stuff?”

  “Why would anyone give me argyle socks or a red bow tie for Christmas? I have no use for them either, but I don’t throw them away. Look, baby, I’m the same person I was a few minutes ago before you saw my stash. This is nothing,” he said, easing the whole joint into his mouth and out again.

  “You can go to jail for this.”

  Brent clicked his teeth. “Baby, everybody and their mamas got a stash in their house.”

  “I don’t.”

  “Well, you don’t count.”

  “I beg to differ. I do count when it comes to drugs—I’m against it, Brent. Don’t you get it? This is illegal. You can be arrested for this.”

  “Baby, they can’t lock up everybody. There would be no one left to run the country.” Winking, he flicked his lighter and lit the joint.

  Tandi couldn’t believe Brent was smoking a joint in front of her and not caring how she felt about it. The smell was pungent. How had he kept this from her over the past four months?

  Sucking hard on the joint and then holding his breath, Brent held the joint out to Tandi.

  She pulled back. “No!”

  Brent blew the smoke out in Tandi’s direction. She covered her nose and mouth. “Come on, baby, take a drag. You can’t get lung cancer from marijuana.”

  Turning her head, she put up her hand to ward him off. “I said no.”

  “This is seis, the good stuff. No seeds. Baby, take just a little one. Do it for me.”

  Tandi angrily shoved Brent’s hand away. “I said no!”

  “Damn, baby. You almost made me drop it.” Brent saw that the fire had gone out. He relit the joint.

  Tandi frowned at the pungent odor and the cloud of smoke surrounding her. She covered her mouth. “Put it out.”

  “Just a minute.” He took a deeper drag. The tip burned bright.

  Totally disgusted, Tandi watched as Brent sucked in the smoke, held it, puffing out his cheeks. Suddenly he leaned forward and blew the smoke right into her face.

  “Brent!” she screamed, shoving him hard.

  He laughed.

  “Damn, Brent! This isn’t funny.”

  “Okay, baby. I’m sorry. I just wanted you to get high with me. Sex will be even better if we’re both high.”

  “Are you saying you’re usually high when you make love to me?”

  “Hell yes. That’s why our sex is so damn good.”

  Tearing the sheet from around her body, Tandi almost fell trying to get off the bed. “I’m going home.”

  “Okay. Baby, damn. I’ll put it out.” He drew on the joint long and deep, like he was about to go under water.

  Totally disgusted, Tandi began grabbing up her clothes. “I’m never coming back here
!”

  Brent still had not put out the joint. “Baby, c’mon.” His voice was low and mellow. “Calm down. You’re gonna blow my high.”

  Tandi ran out of the room into the bathroom across the hall. She began to immediately pull on her clothes. She could not believe Brent used drugs. Drugs never crossed her mind. If she let Brent around Michael Jared, she’d never be able to lay her head down again without worrying about whether he would expose Michael Jared to drugs.

  “Okay, baby, I put it away,” Brent said from the other side of the bathroom door. “I’m sorry.”

  Fully dressed though not feeling exactly fresh, she opened the door and pushed past him. “I have to go.”

  “I said I was sorry. I didn’t know you didn’t do a little something.”

  “Yes, you did,” she said, slipping her feet into her shoes, “or else you would have let on months ago that you did drugs.”

  “Yeah, well, I tell you what. Let’s make a deal. I won’t do any drugs around you, and you—”

  “No deal. It’s no better if you’re doing it behind my back.”

  “Baby, it doesn’t affect me. You didn’t even know I smoked, and I do it every day.”

  She was appalled. “You’re absolutely right. I really didn’t know, so I wonder what the real Brent Rodgers is like. The one who doesn’t use drugs to bring himself down or to get it up in order to make love to me.”

  “Baby, I am the real Brent Rodgers. I told you, drugs don’t affect who I am.”

  Tandi couldn’t believe what he was saying. “It saddens me, Brent, that you believe your own lie. I’m leaving.” She started past Brent.

  He took hold of her by the waist and pulled her up against his body. “Baby, why are you so upset? It’s not like I’m a junkie.”

  “I really hope you’re not, Brent, for your sake and mine because I can’t be in a relationship with you if you are.”

  “Baby, I’m not.” He began to grind himself on Tandi’s thighs. He whispered in her ear, “You feel that? That’s all yours.” He tongued her ear, tantalizing Tandi. “Baby, let me . . .” He began kissing her neck while he shoved his hand in between her thighs and grabbed her. “. . . put my Johnson in your sweet hot box.”