My Man's Best Friend II

by Tresser Henderson

“How long she been gone?” her mother asked.

  Here was the question I didn’t want to answer but didn’t have a choice. I could lie about how long. “She’s only been gone a couple of days. She was supposed to be traveling to visit with you. Maybe she stopped to get some rest somewhere. I’m pretty sure she’s okay.”

  “I knew she was comin’ home but not dis soon.”

  “I think she was trying to surprise you,” I said.

  “Well how ’bout dat. I love surprises.”

  “Well act like you are when she comes, okay? I don’t want to ruin her surprise for you,” I said, playing it off.

  “I will. My baby is comin’ home,” Ms. Clemmons said joyously.

  “And when she gets there, can you have her call me?”

  “I sure can,” her mom said.

  With that I hung up the phone. Something was definitely wrong. I picked the phone back up urgently and dialed Essence’s number again.

  “Hey, you have reached Essence. Please leave your name and number and I will get back to you as soon as I get this message. Later.”

  “Essence, this is Zacariah again, girl. Where the hell are you? I’m worried about you. Please call me as soon as you get this message and all the other messages I have left you. Call me back,” I said, hanging up the phone.

  This was not like Essence. Somebody always knew where she was. I thought it was time to call the police. What choice did I have? She had been missing for over forty-eight hours so they had no other choice but to investigate.

  With the phone becoming my closest companion, I dialed the police station. When I brought the phone to my ear, I heard somebody saying, “Hello.”

  “Hello, Essence,” I said, getting relieved.

  “No, this is not Essence.”

  “Then who the hell is this?” I said, allowing that relief to turn back into my panic state.

  “I just called to tell you it’s done.”

  In my irrational state I said, “What’s done?”

  “It’s done,” the voice said again and I caught on to what was going on. My panic state turned into one of elation.

  “Are you sure?” I questioned.

  “Yes.”

  I didn’t even think I said good-bye before I hung up the phone. I did a dance in the middle of the living room floor. Plan “get my baby back” was now underway. I knew Derrick would need some comforting and now was the perfect time to show up and be there for him. I knew his spirits were lower than low right now and I counted on the fact that he wouldn’t care who attempted to help him pick up the pieces of his life, just as long as he had a warm body by his side. Finding Essence would have to wait until tomorrow. She’d been gone this long. One more day wasn’t going to hurt. I had to go be with my baby. It was about time I got some good news.

  I packed an overnight bag with my favorite Victoria’s Secret fragrance, Pure Seduction, some lotion, soap, and deodorant. I pulled out my sexy lace panty and bra sets and placed them in the bag along with a couple of changes of clothes. I would keep this in my trunk just in case Derrick needed me to stay over for a few days.

  I primped in the mirror, making sure everything was straight. Lucky for me my bruises were finally gone and I was back to looking like the gorgeous woman I was. Thirty-six, twenty-four, thirty-eight were my measurements and I looked fine as ever with my coffee-colored complexion looking like smooth chocolate. I winked at myself for looking so good before exiting the bathroom. I picked up my bag, purse, and keys and headed to my old stomping ground, Derrick’s house.

  When I arrived, it was around 8:00 P.M. It wasn’t quite dark yet but the sun was losing its battle with the horizon. I couldn’t tell if Derrick was home. He usually parked in the garage. I parked in the driveway, thinking he was home. Getting out, my excitement was spilling over. I was finally going to get with my baby and I didn’t have Ms. Kea here to interfere with that. I went to the door and rang the doorbell. I turned, looking at the brick two-story homes across the street with their immaculate lawns, hoping I would be living back in this neighborhood again.

  No one came to the door. I rang the doorbell again and still no one answered. I went to the side of his house, peeking in the window of his garage, and didn’t see his car so he wasn’t here. For a minute I thought he might have seen it was me and decided to ignore me but lucky for me that was not the case. I wondered where he could be. Maybe he stepped out for a minute. It didn’t matter because I was willing to wait for him.

  My wait ended up turning to three hours. It was now after eleven and still no Derrick. Where in the hell was he? I wanted to call him but I knew as soon as he saw my cell phone number, he wouldn’t answer. I wanted to wait longer but I was hungry. My butt hurt from sitting and I had to use the bathroom. So I decided to pick me up something quick. Maybe when I got back Derrick would be home.

  Pulling in the parking lot of Wendy’s, I practically jumped out of my moving vehicle and ran inside the establishment. My bladder was on the verge of making me look like a fool because I couldn’t hold it anymore. On my way, I bumped into some buff dude coming out of the men’s restroom.

  “Excuse you,” I said, still running to the women’s door. Once inside I ran to the stall farthest away from the door. I kicked the stall door open, pulled my jeans and panties down, and relieved myself without bothering to shut the stall door. This felt so good. I was so glad I made it in time. A few more minutes and I would have been driving myself home for a shower and change of clothes. I heard the main bathroom door open and pushed my stall door closed, since I still had it wide open, while I wiped and flushed.

  When I exited the stall, how shocked was I to see a man standing in the restroom with me.

  “Excuse you. I think you got the wrong facilities. The men’s restroom is out that door and to your right.” I pointed.

  “No. Excuse you. You bumped into me and didn’t bother to say excuse me.”

  “Is that why you in here? You want an apology,” I said, laughing. I walked over to the sink, squeezing the dispenser for soap. I turned on the warm water, which wasn’t warm at all, to wash my hands. I didn’t understand why most restaurants didn’t have hot water. Who wants to wash their hands in ice cold water?

  “So are you going to apologize?”

  “Man, I had to pee. You were in my way,” I said.

  “But that didn’t give you the right to be so damn rude.”

  “Okay,” I said, pulling two paper towels and drying my hands off. “If it’s going to make you feel better I’ll say it. I’m sorry, sir, for bumping into you. Do you feel better now?” I asked, using the same paper towel to turn the water off. “Now can you please let me exit so I can get me something to eat?”

  The man hesitated for a second. He stood there and stared at me and that’s when it hit me: a flashback from the last bathroom incident. Was this brother about to do something crazy too? What was it with me and crazy damn people in bathrooms? The last girl I talked to in a restroom stabbed herself all because her man was cheating on her with me. She died before they could get her to the hospital. Now I had this thick dude blocking my way just like skinny girl did me months back. I’m not going to lie, I got scared. I almost felt like I needed to avoid bathrooms at all cost since it seemed like every crazy person who existed seemed to enter with me.

  “This time I’m being polite. Can you please move out of my way?” I said sternly, hoping this man wouldn’t pull out a gun and start blasting. The world was crazy and I didn’t put anything past people. I was a little scared but not as much as I should have been being trapped in a women’s restroom with a man I didn’t even know. He could have been a rapist. But when the guy stepped to the side and allowed me to leave, I knew I was home free.

  “Thank you,” I said, using that same paper towel to open the door to leave. I didn’t want to touch the handle after washing my hands since I knew so many nasty damn women left without washing theirs.

  Once I was out I looked back to see the man exit w
ith me. This didn’t make me nervous. Hell I guess he figured he needed to leave before another woman caught him in there and screamed. He was a black man and a very nice-looking one at that. They might have thought he was some kind of pervert trying to get his voyeurism on.

  I went to the register to be greeted by a tall, scrawny white boy with braces.

  He said, “Hi. Can I take your order?”

  “Yes, I would like a number six please.”

  “Would you like to make that a large?”

  “No, thank you. I don’t need any extra calories.”

  “Okay, ma’am. That will be $6.45.”

  I handed the young guy exact change and stepped to the side to wait for my food. The crazy guy from the restroom stepped up to place his order. Staring at him more I noticed he was fine as hell. Standing about six foot four at about 240 pounds, the guy had a very nice build. I didn’t notice before either, but he was dressed very nice. He had dreads, which weren’t my thing but on him it was fitting enough to catch my attention. By habit I checked out his ring finger only to see it was empty. His teeth were white and perfectly straight. His hygiene was on point because he smelled real good. Must have been some of that come-and-get-some-of-this cologne.

  For a minute I found myself attracted to him. No man had had me like this since Derrick. I mean I had slept around but nobody made my heart go pitter-patter. Only Derrick had done that. I didn’t believe in love at first sight but, after looking at this guy, I was starting to wonder. Then again, this could have been lust at first sight.

  The guy ended up ordering the same thing I did, a spicy chicken combo, but he asked for honey mustard sauce. When the guy told him his total he looked over at me and asked, “Do you got me?”

  “Got you like how?” I asked, frowning.

  “I need six dollars and forty-five cent to pay for this. That’s the least you can do for being rude to me.”

  Was this man kidding me? Me, pay for his food. Hell he should have been paying for mine.

  “Hell nawh, I’m not paying.”

  He giggled and reached in his pocket, pulling out a roll of money. He peeled a fifty dollar bill from the stack and handed it to the young boy.

  The young boy noticed the money the man was holding too and looked at me as he stretched his eyes. I guessed maybe he was thinking the same thing I was. He could have paid for my meal, the girl next to me ordering, and probably everybody else waiting to order.

  Me being me I said, “You asking me for money and you pulling out a stack like that.”

  “I wanted to see how generous you were,” he said.

  “Well I didn’t see your generosity stepping forth either,” I said, angrily wishing I could jack this punk for his money.

  “You don’t seem like the type of woman who needs help with anything,” he said, grinning at me.

  He had a point there. Talk about reading me right.

  “Well still you could have been nice and paid for a sister’s food.”

  The young guy set my bag in front of me along with a medium cup for me to get my drink. I grabbed my items and said, “It was not nice meeting you.” I walked over to the beverage fountain only to have him follow right behind me. He didn’t have his food but he had his cup in hand.

  “My name is Fabian. Fabian Hill,” he said, holding his hand out to shake mine.

  “I didn’t ask for your name, nor do I want to shake your hand. I don’t know where your hand’s been.”

  Fabian smiled, pulling back his hand. “Okay. Still rude.”

  “And I think you are stalking me. I mean for real this is getting old.”

  “A brother was trying to be nice and now I get accused of stalking. Just allow me to get my drink and I’ll be out of your hair.”

  “Get your drink then,” I said, putting the top on my Pepsi.

  “Beautiful but still unladylike,” he mumbled as he put his cup under the dispenser to get ice.

  “Unladylike,” I snapped.

  “You heard me,” he said, now getting some Sprite.

  “First of all, you don’t know me. Second, I ought to slap you for being so damn ill-mannered.”

  “Do you think I should have slapped you for being ill-mannered?”

  My mouth fell open at his words.

  “You started this entire thing. I was minding my own business when you practically bum-rushed me. The only thing I wanted was an apology.”

  “Which I gave you!”

  “Which was also condescending. You act like one of them angry sisters. You know the ones who are uncouth for no damn reason and think their beauty is all they need to get away with such a stank attitude. I don’t know who has hurt you in your past but you need to let all that resentment go so you can be nicer to people, and stop thinking the world revolves around you because it doesn’t.”

  With that the man walked away, leaving me standing there with my mouth still open. He walked up to the young boy, who handed him his bag. Fabian took it, looked back at me, shook his head, and walked out of the restaurant.

  I was fuming. How dare he disrespect me like this? And, in front of people. The young white boy was gawking at me. Once I made eye contact with him, he turned his head real quick.

  I stormed out of the restaurant. Once outside I searched the parking lot for this asshole. I saw Fabian getting into a black Charger with tinted windows. Before he could shut the door, I was there holding it. He turned to see what was hindering him from closing his door and saw me.

  “You owe me an apology,” I demanded.

  “For what, telling you the truth?” he asked, snickering.

  “You were being an asshole back there.”

  “And you were being a bitch. So I guess we are even.”

  “Bitch. I know you didn’t just call me a bitch.”

  “Yeah, I did,” he said calmly.

  It made me snap. I peeled the top off my drink and tossed my beverage in his face. The drink was dead on, not only hitting him in the face but also hitting his ride.

  “Now, that’s a bitch,” I said, slamming his door and walking away.

  Chapter 8

  Derrick

  I found myself sitting at a table in the corner of this bar, holding my fourth drink. I gulped down my Hennessy and Coke, watching the basketball game that was playing on the TV mounted up on the wall. I was trying to drown my sorrow, hoping it would erase the image of my body touching Kea’s. Every time I closed my eyes, images of her hands caressing me invaded me. I envisioned her lips placing soft kisses on me and then the act of me penetrating her.

  I tossed back the rest of my drink, wishing to forget but, no matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t get Kea out of my head. I wanted her so bad right now but knew I had to obliterate her from my mind. I wanted to expunge the feeling of loving the woman who I just found out was, indeed, my sister.

  “Is this seat taken?” a woman asked me as she sat across from me in the booth, not giving me the opportunity to answer.

  “It is now.” I looked at her hesitantly. I didn’t feel like this now. Company was the last thing I felt like entertaining but even in my state of mind I didn’t want to be rude.

  “Drowning your troubles I see?”

  Isn’t that obvious? I thought, looking up at her.

  “It can’t be that bad,” the beautiful woman said.

  “I promise you it is,” I retorted.

  She smiled and ordered a drink when the waitress came back to my table with my fifth drink. After ordering the woman started watching the game with me, but the only thing I was interested in viewing now was her.

  Ms. Bohemian was what I wanted to call her. She was dressed in an earth-tone dress, with gold bangle bracelets jingling from her wrist and wooden hoops dangling from her ears. Her long, curly hair was pulled atop her head with some strands draping her face. She was striking. She smiled, pausing to pay me some attention before returning her eyes to the game. I took in her full lips and face without any shadow of makeup on it, just
a hint of lip gloss and a scent that resonated with fruit. Leaning forward with both arms on the table crossed in front of her, I could see a tattoo decorating her right arm, her left wrist, and the nape of her neck. She was sexy.

  And what really drew me in were her eyes. They were aqua blue and didn’t quite match up with her golden, caramel features but in a weird sort of way they did. It was like looking into the clear waters on a tropical island. I had to wonder if they were hers, or if she was just like most women thinking it’s sexy to wear fake contacts. Something told me that as real as she seemed, so were her eyes.

  “Have you finished ogling me?” she asked flirtatiously.

  I nodded.

  “You don’t talk much do you?”

  I nodded, bringing the glass to my lips as I savored the burn of the liquor on my tongue as it slid down my throat.

  Holding out her tiny, manicured hand, which was dainty yet strong like she appeared, she said, “My name is—”

  I held my hand up, stopping her. “Please. No names,” I said, shaking her outstretched fingers.

  “Okay, I will respect that.”

  “Names make things official and I’m not ready for that right now.”

  “I understand,” she said tranquilly.

  I motioned for the waitress to bring me another while I sipped on the last of my drink. Ms. Bohemian looked at the several glasses that adorned the table but didn’t say anything about them.

  “You look like you could use some company tonight. Would you like to come to my place?” she asked boldly.

  My glass paused in midair and I looked at the confidence in her face. “You don’t look like a woman who picks up random men and invites them back to your place,” I said.

  “I’m not but it’s something about you that I like.”

  “You don’t know me. I could be a rapist or mass murderer.”

  “Well are you?” she asked.

  “If I was, do you think I would tell you?”

  Ms. Bohemian giggled, saying, “My gut tells me you are none of those things. I get a good vibe from you even though your spirit is in turmoil.”

  “And you can sense all of that?” I asked.