“Hey, Rashida.” Antoine walked up in a pair of fashionably ripped jeans and a dusty gray, graphic print t-shirt. I could tell right away he didn’t pick out that outfit himself. He grabbed a chair.
“Nice seeing you again, Antoine,” I said. “It’s nice to be able to reconnect like this.”
He gave me a blank stare and then sort of winced. He looked like he didn’t want to be there. I knew something was on his mind, and it killed me knowing that it wasn’t my place to ask.
“So, what’s new in your life these days? Still over at HarlaTech?”
“Yep,” he said.
“That must be nice. You working your way to the top still?”
“Trying,” he said.
This was getting really awkward, just as I had feared. “I got transferred to wedding announcement writer.”
“Oh, wow.” Antoine almost sounded sarcastic. “You must really enjoy that.”
He looked to the left and smiled to himself. I knew it wasn’t a prestigious position, but it was a lot better than what I was doing before.
“It’s not as exciting as I thought it would be, and it gets a little redundant at times, but it’s much better than the obituaries,” I said. This conversation was becoming very one-sided. “Although it pays the same. Who would’ve thought?”
It was quiet for a moment.
“Would you like me to order you a latte or something?”
“No, that’s alright. I don’t plan on staying long,” Antoine said while looking straight into my eyes. I wondered then and there why he even bothered meeting up with me in the first place.
“Oh. Okay then,” I began to gather my things. “This was pointless.”
I spoke quietly but loud enough that he could hear it. In the old days he would’ve picked up on it and immediately asked me what was wrong. I knew he heard it, but he didn’t say anything.
In five seconds flat I had exited the coffee house and my feet were hitting the hot pavement outside. Two seconds later I heard, “Rashida, wait.”
I turned to see Antoine standing in the doorway. I stopped, turned, and walked back to him with my head down. I felt embarrassed for even getting myself into this situation, but it seemed like maybe things were starting to turn around for me.
“You forgot this,” Antoine reached out to hand me my cell phone.
I couldn’t help but laugh. I probably seemed crazy by laughing in that moment, but it was all I could do to keep from crying. I snatched the phone from his hand and walked as fast as I could towards home feeling like a fool all the while.
I can’t remember how long it took to actually get home that night, but I booked it and made it in record time. The smell of my apartment had never been so sweet, the carpet had never been so soft, and my bed had never been as inviting as it was that night.LaLa
I laid in my bed for a while feeling sorry for myself, but then I got hungry. I decided to drown my sorrows in a big bowl of Frosted Flakes with extra sugar sprinkled on top. I didn’t need it, but I sure deserved it.
The next morning happened to be a Saturday. It was tradition for LaLa and me to go down to the farmer’s market together, but LaLashe was missing in action. As I thought about it, I realized she hadn’t been home when I arrived last night, either. That was definitely unusual.
I pored over the kitchen table and counter tops for some kind of note, but there was nothing. I glanced in her bedroom and her bed was still made. She likely didn’t come home the previous night. I resolved that I wasn’t in the mood anyway for those insane farmer’s market crowds so I was perfectly fine staying at home for a change.
As if on cue, LaLa walked in the front door.
“What’s with the smug look on your face?” I said.
“What are you talking about?”
“Where did you go last night? You hate not sleeping in your own bed,” I pointed out. “Did you have a date?”
“What’s with the fifty questions? I went out last night with my cousin and his girlfriend and their friend, Demarius,” LaLa finally answered. “Demarius Hansen.”
“Demarius Hansen? Do I know him?” I asked. “Why does that name sound familiar?”
“No, but he’s the guy who dated Ayla Giovanni back in college. Ripley’s friendLaLa, remember? It wasn’t exactly a double date, but it kind of was. It was just dinner and drinks. I stayed at my cousin’s place afterwards.”
LaLa
“You didn’t happen to get any scoop, did you?” I had to ask.
“Actually, Demarius got really drunk and wouldn’t shut up about Ayla,” she said, tucking a strand of hair behind her left ear. “It was kind of annoying.”
I grabbed her arms and shook her. “Spill it all!”
Startled and laughing, she began, “Well, apparently he cheated on her and he really regrets it. He said she was an amazing girlfriend.”
LaLa winced, knowing she had not told me what I was expecting to hear.
“Interesting,” I said. I got lost in my own thoughts for a few minutes as I tried to erase my mental image of a bitchy, snooty Ayla Giovanni and replace it with a kinder, gentler Ayla. As hard as it was, I finally wrapped my mind around the thought of Ayla as someone I could see myself befriending in another life, under different circumstances.
My mind gradually flashed back to my two year anniversary with Antoine. The newness of our relationship had long worn off, and I was struggling to keep some kind of pilot light going in hopes that someday the spark would return to our mundane relationship. Antoine craved the comfort and stability of a long-term relationship, while I was still trying to figure out what I even wanted to do with my life.
Antoine always took care of me. He was my biggest advocate. When I announced to my parents that I wanted to go to nursing school a week after announcing I wanted to be a real estate agent, Antoine stuck up for me. When I got the bright notion to make extra money by donating blood, Antoine did the research for me to make sure it was safe and worthwhile. When I had a long day at work, I knew I could come home and count on Antoine to be there with dinner on the table and my favorite movie already in the Blu Ray player.
He was everything anyone could’ve wanted, but the relationship bored me to tears at times. There was no drama. No chaos. No rollercoaster of emotions. It was too safe. Too predictable.
Part of me felt guilty for staying with Antoine, for keeping him all to myself. He made me happy in the most self-centered of ways, and I knew deep down I didn’t truly appreciate him. I felt like I was hoarding him away for my personal, selfish needs when I knew there was someone out there who would love him the way he loved me.
Then I met Jake. Jake was dashing, charismatic, intelligent and lit a fire under me like no one had before. He made me feel alive for the first time in over two years, and I realized how much I missed that. Poor Antoine; he never saw it coming. Although the Jake thing lasted a mere three weeks, it was life altering. Sometimes I think that if it weren’t for meeting Jake, I’d still be with Antoine living my Groundhog’s Day life over and over again, day in and day out.
When I broke the news to Antoine that it was over, he didn’t cry at first. He admitted that he didn’t see it coming, but he didn’t cry. He asked if it was something he did, and he wanted to know why I was unhappy. I couldn’t give him an answer. I couldn’t give myself an answer. Antoine was the perfect boyfriend, and I didn’t know why I couldn’t make it work.
“Rashida, I’ve never met anyone as fickle as you,” my mother said when I told her what I had done. “When are you finally going to know what you want?”
I thought of my two older brothers. They were happily married and well educated, each with two children. My parents adored them and my father constantly praised each of them for their “stick-to-itiveness.”
“Preston knew he wanted to be an attorney since he was in middle school. He graduated from college and went straight into law school. Alston knew he wanted to be a politician and he’s now on the city council,” my father woul
d always remind me.
Preston and Alston were fraternal twins and older than me by six years. We weren’t exactly close, and growing up I hated living in their shadows. I never considered myself one of those lucky people who always knew what they wanted to be when they grew up. I was constantly looking for something to ignite my inner flame, flitting from one dream to the next. .I doubted I’d ever [r4] lived in the present, and maybe that was the reason behind my constant malcontent.
CHAPTER 4
I went for a jog with LaLa on Sunday morning. It was our tradition to do two laps around Clover Lake each weekend, and the weather was amazing. I lost myself in the reflection of the sky in the water and welcomed the distraction. Hardly a minute had gone by in the last few days when I didn’t think about Antoine and what might have been.
“You’re so quiet. It’s weird. It’s not like you at all,” LaLa said between breaths.
“A lot on my mind,” I said.
“Antoine? Still?”
“What do you think?”
“Liv, I love you, but get over it. Move on with your life. He did.” LaLa jogged ahead of me. It was rare to annoy her, and I’d apparently succeeded with flying colors.
I caught up with her a few seconds later and motioned to a park bench, “I’m sorry if this is hard for you to understand.”
“You’re right. I don’t understand it,” LaLa heaved as she took a swig from her bright green water bottle. “Antoine was so good to you. Do you realize how rare guys like Antoine are anymore? And you threw him away, like you were just done with him.”
I didn’t know what to say. LaLa was right.
“You broke his heart, and now you want to come back into his life like nothing happened. He’s happy now, Rashida. Don’t ruin it for him.” Her eyes pleaded with me to listen. “You’re my best friend, but he’s such a nice person.”
My phone started to vibrate in my pocket. I reached down to pull it out but didn’t recognize the number.
“Hello?”
“Rashida?” he said. “This is Kevin Harris.”
“Kevin!”
“I hope you don’t mind, but I looked you up in the system and found your number. I just wanted to apologize for the other night,” he said.
“Apologize?” I said. “We were the ones who stepped into a crime scene. You have nothing to be sorry about.”
“Either way,” he said. “I know this is sort of out of the blue, but I was wondering if maybe you’d like to have dinner with me some night soon?”
“Dinner? Okay. That’s fine,” I said. I tried not to act overly enthused, but on the inside I was reeling.
“Actually, I know this is late notice, but are you available tonight at all?” he asked.
“I think I can switch a few things around and make it work. Where were you thinking?”
“Well, if you like Italian, I was thinking maybe Zestos on Third?” he answered.
“Seven?” I asked.
“I’ll pick you up,” he said.
“Wait. How do you know where I live?”
“Same way I know your phone number, I guess,” he said with a bit of a chuckle.
“Oh,” I said, feeling a little dumb. People in his line of work probably had access to all kinds of information. That or he was extremely resourceful.
I hung up the phone and turned to tell LaLa my good news, but she was already gone. I looked up the path, and she was easily a quarter of a mile ahead. I got up, stretched for a second, and continued my jog. It was all I could do.
I started thinking about what I was going to wear on my date with Kevin. I started thinking about how random it was that we met the way we did and how strange it was that we were going on a date now. What were the odds?
An hour later, I walked in the door of the apartment. LaLa had already been home and was showering. I went to my bedroom and ransacked my closet for something to wear that night.
“Liv?” LaLa stood in my doorway in her white velour robe, hair in a towel fashioned into a turban. “I’m sorry I got mad earlier. I just don’t understand, I guess.”
“It’s okay,” I said. “I know you don’t understand. I don’t even understand any of it.”
LaLa smiled. I could tell she was relieved. She hated any kind of tension or conflict, which was probably why we rarely fought.
“Kevin called and asked me on a date,” I said. “It’s tonight at seven.”
“That’s great,” LaLa said. “I’m actually going on a solo date tonight with Demarius.”
“Ayla’s ex, Demarius?”
“Yeah, he asked. It’s better than staying home alone,” LaLa said.
“Well, we can get ready together. It’ll be fun,” I said. “Just like our college days.”
LaLa retreated to her room, and I continued to search for something perfect to wear.
As I hopped in the shower, I started having second thoughts about this date. Kevin and Ayla were neighbors. If Kevin and I started dating, that would mean I’d probably be over to his place on a regular basis. If I was over to his place, I’d definitely run into Ayla and/or Antoine at some point. If I ran into Ayla and Antoine, Antoine might think I was stalking him. I was definitely over-thinking the whole thing, but I couldn’t help it.
Five o’clock rolled around, and LaLa and I turned on some music and started getting ready for our respective dates. I had the dresser with the big mirror, so we set up camp in my room. My bed was covered in a wide assortment of makeup and hair products.
“Will you do my hair and makeup?” LaLa asked.
“Of course, hon,” I said. “What would you like to look like tonight? A hooker? A grandma? A teenager? I can create ‘em all.”
“Seriously,” LaLa said. “Just make me look good. I don’t care what you do.”
I began with my favorite primer, followed by matte foundation, perfect pink blush, deep coffee eye shadow, charcoal liner, dramatic mascara and clear lip gloss. I grabbed my piping hot flat iron and straightened her thick, wavy brown hair into smooth as glass strands. By the time I was finished, LaLa was a radiant work of art.
“You look gorgeous,” I said. I stood in awe of my masterpiece. LaLa wasn’t homely by any means, but she couldn’t do her hair or make up to save her life. As a result, LaLashe tended to look more natural in her everyday life. There was nothing wrong with that, but I was proud of her for stepping up her game for her big date.
She stood in front of the big mirror, staring at herself. A smile began to crack from the corners of her mouth. She turned her head to the left, then to the right. She swung her hair back and forth. “Wow. I should have you do this for me every day.”
“Okay, now it’s my turn. He’s going to be here soon,” I said. I grabbed my makeup bag and recreated a similar look on myself, though I gave myself some large barrel waves with my curling iron and finger-combed them to loosen them up a bit I slipped on my favorite pair of skinny jeans, black Louboutin heels and a slinky, cream sleeveless top. Three squirts of my best perfume and I was ready to go.
“He’s here,” LaLa said from the next room.
My heart began to race. I rechecked my makeup. I could hear their voices from the living room. I scrambled to find my clutch and make sure I had everything I needed. Then I collected myself and walked out to greet my date.
I walked into the room to find LaLa’s arms wrapped around him in a friendly hug. I was a little annoyed, but knowing LaLa, it was perfectly innocent. As he turned to face me, I realized it wasn’t Kevin. It was actually Demarius. That was the “he” to whom LaLa was referring.
“Demarius, this is my roommate and best friend, Rashida,” LaLa said.
“Nice to meet you,” Demarius replied. He seemed nice enough and looked like most of the guys LaLa tended to go for. He was tall and lanky with short black hair and golden, hazel eyes. She could never control herself around those hazel eyed charmers.
“Yes, nice to meet you. Where are you two headed?”
“I’m taking her f
or a round of mini-golf at Green Sky, then for a sushi dinner at Taki,” he said.
Green Sky was the most romantic mini-golf joint in town. It was on the roof of the tallest building in Harrisville and virtually kid-free on the weekends. Taki wasn’t a cheap place for dinner, either. He was really trying to impress her.
“You two have a great night,” I said.
“Thanks,” Demarius said. He had his hand on LaLa’s lower back as he ushered her out the door. The entire time, he couldn’t take his eyes off her. Good for them.
Your Ex My Man Page 3