What A Person Wants

by Bell, Kris

  When he started calling her “Izzy," it brought back some memories. I did remember him talking about his friend Izzy, but we had never met. However, that wasn’t too strange to me. Rhys and I have been cool for over fifteen years, but I only met maybe half of the females he dealt with. There was just too damn many of them. Yet, despite the sheer number of women in Rhys' past, he always made it a point for me to meet any he deemed important. But the famous Izzy I had yet to meet.

  I brought this point up to Rhys while he continued to graze the food table. "Hold up. If she's so cool with you, how come I've never met her? I thought I met all your important women?"

  “You have,” he agreed. “But Izzy had moved to Philadelphia after we first met, so we talked long distance for a while. We kept in touch when she got back here to Virginia. I don’t see her too often, but I talk to her almost every day. I dunno. I just never really thought to introduce y’all.”

  “So, you’ll do it tonight?” I said, hopeful. Now that I knew this pretty lady wasn’t one of my boy’s rejects or ex-girlfriends, I really wanted to meet her. We watched her as she sat back on the couch with another girl and giggled with her. She was obviously beginning to enjoy herself. There was something about this lady; I couldn’t take my eyes off of her.

  “Um, I don’t think you’ll want to meet her,” Rhys finally confessed. “I think her friend is more your speed.”

  I looked at him cross-eyed. “The wild friend?” I asked. “Rhys, I’d rather meet the lady. Introduce me to Isabel.”

  Rhys thought about it for a second. “You sure? I mean, she already has a dude in the military. You might get the cold shoulder or something. Besides, you’ll probably corrupt her. You know, being a ‘reformed’ ho yourself and all.”

  I looked at Rhys like he was crazy. I could not figure out why he didn’t want me to talk to her. If she wasn’t an ex-girlfriend or an old booty call, there really shouldn’t be a reason why I couldn’t at least introduce myself. But since my boy wasn’t cool with it, I let it go. Leaving Rhys to stuff his face, I made my way back to the living room to find someone else to talk to. Maybe it wasn’t meant to be.

  ISABEL

  Two months later

  The clothing store where I worked, Angels Unlimited, normally has steady business throughout the week, but today was ridiculous. Mondays are typically dedicated to tying up loose ends from the previous week and preparing for the upcoming week: paperwork, fixing schedules, and setting the store up for new merchandise, things like that. However, my plans for a simple and easy shift flew straight out the window as soon as the doors opened for the day. A few dozen people must’ve hit the lotto judging from the number of women walking around the store with armloads of clothing and accessories. It looked like Christmas in April.

  Sneaking a glance at my supervisor, Angie, I could tell she was just as perplexed about the sudden burst of customer traffic as well as the type of clientele that we were currently assisting. Today, it seemed like most of the customers who decided to grace our store with their presence were either incredibly rude or physically looked as though they were in desperate need of a shower with strong soap. All day long, I had gone from spraying air freshener behind stinky women (especially in the fitting rooms) to modest attempts at keeping my temper in check. There’s only so many times I can take getting cursed at for not giving out unnecessary discounts for those too cheap to pay full price or getting snapped at for saying, “May I assist you?” My patience was wearing thin.

  Angie didn’t have better luck. From my vantage point in the lingerie section by the front desk, I could see that the current customer she was checking out wore a dingy “white” tee shirt with “I don’t have a fucking attitude” written on the front, which she had the audacity to pair with ill-fitting denim cutoff shorts. Granted, the weather was bright and mild for April, but she was wrong for stepping out of her house with those shorts on. Her gigantic legs were full of cellulite pits the size of potholes. We were in for a long day.

  I was so preoccupied with the people walking in and out of the store that I didn’t even hear my name called. Once I managed to detangle myself from a clingy, indecisive shopper, I turned toward Angie and saw her talking to a familiar face. It was my favorite cousin, Lawanda Wade. Lawanda and I had been practically inseparable since birth. She was the sister I never had, but always wanted.

  With her long legs and short brown hair, Lawanda was definitely a traffic-stopper. More often than not, guys fall in love with her on the spot. And, of course, she loved the attention.

  When Angie and Lawanda realized they had my attention, they waved me over.

  “What's up, girl?” Lawanda asked once I got close to her. The tone of Lawanda's voice always struck me as the type of voice a newscaster would have: no accent and perfect diction. However, her tone of speech belied her word choices. Lawanda may have sounded bland and proper, but she spoke fluent "hood."

  “Nothing much, just trying to catch my breath. I don’t know where all these people came from, but they are wearing me out.”

  Angie joined in. “I know, right? Did someone win the lottery or something?”

  I admitted the same thought had occurred to me. “I don’t know what the deal is, but I need it to end. These women are working my last nerve.”

  Ding Dong. The entrance bell went off. A well-dressed lady ambled into the store. Angie and I were not too enthused. Luckily for me, she flagged Angie down to help her. That left me free to talk with my cousin for a minute.

  Walking Lawanda towards the back of the store, I asked her, “So what brings you here?

  “Well,” Lawanda began, “I just came by to check on you and see if you had heard from Kyle yet. Wasn’t he supposed to be coming home this week?”

  I didn’t mean to bite my bottom lip or clam up at the mention of my fiancé’s name, but I did. I shook off a flicker of unpleasant thoughts and answered.

  “No, not yet. He told me a while ago that he was gonna be super busy with work, and of course, his family will try to monopolize his time. He probably got held up, but I’m sure I’ll hear from him by the end of the week at the latest.”

  Lawanda gave me a look of understanding mixed with pity. It’s a look I’ve grown accustomed to when it came to Kyle.

  “Izzy, it’s been almost five months since you’ve seen him, and I know he doesn’t call nearly as often as he should. Do you really think he’s gonna come home to you?”

  I really didn’t want to have this conversation, but I knew Lawanda too well. Dropping the subject was not an option, especially since she had come all the way down to the store just to talk to me about it.

  I took a deep breath as I glanced around the store in a feeble attempt to plot an escape route. I damn sure felt like I needed one. “I know he is. He’s just—”

  “He’s just what? Look, Izzy, I know it’s hard to hear, but you’re really wasting your time. Do you even know if he’s back in Virginia? His ass could still be in Texas for all you know. Have you thought about maybe moving on and counting him as a loss?”

  Move on? Move on to what? As much as I hated to admit it to myself, I had been thinking a whole lot about my situation with Kyle Bennett, even without my cousin's impromptu interrogation. He was in the Air Force and had left Virginia over six months ago to report to his new base in Texas for training. We had been in the midst of planning our wedding when he got his orders to leave. Now everything was on hold until he returned. He should have already arrived back home by now, but since we didn’t talk as much as we used to, it was hard to know for sure.

  I crossed my arms over my chest and took a deep, steadying breath. “Kyle is coming home. He wouldn’t just ditch me. It’s not his fault he’s got a lot going on right now. He’s a very busy man. I mean, I appreciate your concern, but I’m not worried, so you shouldn’t be either.”

  I knew my attempt to convince her that everything was fine between Kyle and I was futile since I was having a tough time trying to convince myself
. I heard the tremor in my voice when I said he wouldn't ditch me. I was never that good an actress.

  Lawanda rolled her eyes and put her hands on her hips. She parted her lips to speak, but closed them without saying a word. It was obvious to me that Lawanda wanted to continue the conversation I so desperately wanted to end, but she backed off. This surprised me. Usually Lawanda was too stubborn to relinquish an argument without having the final word, but today she had mercy on me.

  After a few heartbeats of silence, Lawanda dropped her hands from her hips. “Izzy, I’m just looking out for you, girl. I can tell you've been feeling some kind of way lately over this whole thing because every time I call, you just sound so damn sad. And I know you try to put on your big girl panties and act like you alright, but you can't fool your family. Just know that I got your back regardless. I mean, if you needed a place to get away from it all or a shoulder to cry on, you can come to me. But if you need to throw some bricks through some dude’s windshield, feel free to use the ones I have at home ready to go airborne. Either way, I got you.”

  We shared a laugh as my cousin pulled me into her arms and hugged me. As relieved as I was not to talk about my situation with Kyle anymore, I did appreciate her concern. We attempted to carry on a conversation, but the constant ringing of the entrance bell kept interrupting us. In fact, it was ringing so often, it had begun to sound like a remixed ice cream truck jingle. Lawanda and I decided to part ways, and I got back to my shift.

  * * * *

  I was standing at the bus stop waiting on the bus to take me home when I got the first phone call. It was well after ten pm, and I couldn't wait to get home from my exhausting thirteen-hour shift. I was alone in the small bus shelter, mentally willing the bus to hurry up. Thankfully, the street was busy and well-lit with a mix of orange-tinted street lamps and colorful, bright lights emanating from various stores and restaurants lined up on both sides of the street. A small mercy for taking public transportation so late in the evening. Even so, I never liked standing alone out in the open at night. I welcomed the call as a pleasant distraction until I looked at the caller ID and saw it was my mother. Sighing, I accepted the call and tried to brace myself for whatever news she felt I needed to know.

  “Isabel?”

  “Hey, Ma! What's going on? Everything okay?”

  “Hmm hmm. You just get off of work?”

  “Yeah.” I turned my head toward the street to see if my bus was coming. Nope.

  I heard my mother take a deep breath. “You won’t believe what this fool did to me today.”

  And so it begins. “You mean Petey? What did he do now?”

  Normally, she would chitchat a little longer before she dove into the drama of her current (and occasional ex) boyfriend. Today, however, she went straight to business. Clearly, she was badly upset.

  “I caught that bastard cheating on me.”

  Rolling my eyes, I asked her one of the two imperative most questions I needed answers to. “How did you catch him cheating this time, Ma?"

  Once again, my mother inhaled deeply and tried to steady her voice. She wasn’t on the verge of tears, but she was on the verge of cursing Petey out into my ear. Sometimes she forgot who she was talking to.

  “He knows better than to bring anyone over to the house now that I’m not working. I’m always home. No, I caught him on the Internet talking to some big, nasty looking woman who lives out in Chesapeake. Apparently, they had gotten together last week sometime and were looking to get a room somewhere again this weekend.”

  “Um, how did you find all of this on the Internet? Did he leave the screen up?” Something that dumb was not unbecoming to my mother’s boyfriend. Not only was he a compulsive cheater, but he was also missing a few fries from his happy meal. Simply put, he was stupid as hell. How that sorry excuse of a man ended up with my mother, I'll never know.

  “No, I cracked his password. I found a bunch of emails and pictures of this fat woman named Candy. She needs to stop eating that mess and drop a couple hundred pounds. Maybe then she could find a man of her own and leave mine the hell alone!

  A bus pulled up to the curb, but it wasn’t the one I needed. So much for using the “I gotta get on the bus” excuse to end the conversation. It was one my mother and I have had plenty of times before, and at this point, I had nothing new to say.

  “Why would you crack his code, Ma? You know if you do that, you’ll just find a bunch of stuff that you don’t need to see in the first place.”

  “Because,” she began, “I need to make sure that he’s not dealing with those females anymore. He told me that he left them alone and I needed to make sure he was telling the truth.”

  That’s it! I was beyond aggravated with my mother’s naivety. I was now pacing back and forth in front of the bus shelter in a futile attempt to keep from saying what I really thought about her relationship with Petey. While I didn't agree with their union, I didn't want to seem insensitive either. Instead, I just asked her a familiar, simple question, one I had yet to receive a satisfactory answer to.

  “Why don’t you just leave him then?

  Silence on the other end of the call. I kept talking as I continued pacing.

  "Ma, it’s not like you can’t find a decent man who would love you and only you. You’re still young, you’re pretty and you’re a good woman. Why are you settling for a nasty cheating fool like Petey? You can do better than that, Ma. He’s not worth all this hassle."

  I don’t know why I bothered to ask that question. I had already heard the answer before. Today would be no exception.

  “Because I love him, Isabel! He’s a good man. He just has some problems right now. What kind of woman would I be if I just up and ran every time trouble came our way?”

  “A smart one,” I mumbled under my breath. I stopped walking as I saw another bus coming around the corner. This time, it was the one I needed. I tried to end the call with my mother as I got my bus ticket ready.

  “Ma, I know you love him, but seriously, if he loved you, he wouldn’t treat you this way.”

  “I know, baby. I just wish he would do right.”

  “I know, I know. Listen, I’ll talk to you later. I need to get on the bus.”

  “Okay, Izzy. Call me later so I’ll know you made it home safe.”

  Relieved, I hung up the phone and boarded the bus feeling a little drained. Talking to my mother did that to me sometimes. I loved her to pieces and she has always been supportive of me, but when it came to relationships, she constantly played the role of the doormat. I hated to see her bend over backwards for worthless men. This guy, Petey, has been in and out of her life for almost five years, and it’s been the same story since day one: Petey cheats, Petey apologizes, Isabel mediates and Ma forgives. My mother shouldn’t even be with a grown ass man named Petey, anyway, I thought as I picked a seat on the near-empty bus. She needs a grown ass man named Stability.

  I hadn’t even gotten my seat warm on the bus when I got the second call. I didn’t recognize the number, so my heart almost skipped a beat. It could be Kyle. He didn’t always call me from his cell phone (which he seldom answered anyway), and he was supposed to get in contact with me. I prayed it was Kyle as I accepted the call.

  “Hello?”

  “Hey, sweetie!”

  I released the breath I didn’t even realize I was holding. It was just Rhys.

  “Hey, Rhys,” I said. “What’s going on?”

  “Nothing. Well, are you okay?” Rhys asked, concern in his voice.

  I did my best to hide my disappointment by trying to sound somewhat cheery.

  “Yeah, I’m good.”

  But Rhys wasn’t buying it. “Izzy, come on. What’s wrong? I can tell in your voice.”

  Damn, he knows me well. I don’t even know why I tried to disguise my tone. I should’ve just lied like I normally do when I’m bothered. It’s easier that way.

  “No, I’m good. I just had a long day at work.” At least that was halfway true. A hect
ic thirteen-hour shift on your feet would do anybody in.

  “Oh, okay.” Rhys said, accepting what I said. “You just sounded kind of down for a minute.”

  “I’m fine. Scout’s honor,” I reassured him.

  “Well, I just needed to vent. You got a minute to spare?”

  “For you? Of course.”

  “I’ll be quick then.” Rhys took a second to draw a deep a breath. Good god! What was going on today? Did I have “dump on me” written across my forehead? I shook my head and braced myself for whatever it was Rhys needed to talk about.

  “It’s Tiffany. I’m about to kill her.”

  It took a second to digest what he had just told me. I knew he’d been having some problems with his wife lately, but this was the first time that he had actually told me something flat out negative about her. Usually, he talks about her flaws with a Coke and a smile, or at least backs up what he says with a positive comment. But not this time. She must’ve really messed up.

  Rhys didn’t wait for me to comment. “I try to be a good husband. I work every day. I take care of the bills. I damn near spoil her, but it seems like nothing I do fazes her. What happened to the sweet woman I married?"

  I opted for telling him the truth as I saw it. “Maybe she was never sweet to begin with. You see what you want to see when you’re, um, whipped and in love and whatnot. Let’s call a spade a spade, Rhys. Your nose was wide open for the whole six months y’all dated. It was a pretty sad sight.”

  “That’s not true, Izzy. I was not whipped. I fell in love with what I thought was a good woman.”

  If you say so. I looked out the window at the passing cars and streetlights. A few more stops and I'd be home. “Well, what did she do this time?”

  “Nothing! Absolutely nothing! And that’s the problem. Tiffany's wakes up, gets dressed, and leaves the house by seven a.m. every day as usual. I’m thinking she’s been going to work. Then she springs on me today when I got home that she had quit her job two weeks ago because she didn’t like her boss’ attitude. I asked her what that had to do with anything since we had bills to pay and this woman had the audacity to tell me that she didn’t care.”