Tunnel Vision

by H. R. Kitte-Rojas

  “Hello, Frank,” she said, unable to fill her greeting with any of the venom she wanted to.

  She also couldn"t recoil from his touch as she wanted to. His touch stunned her with how good it felt.

  Frank and his people set up outside on the back patio, and she couldn"t help stealing glances from time to time. He laughed and joked with them as they set up. There was an intriguing energy that just seemed to pulse out of him.

  She needed to check herself because she was becoming attracted to him all over again. Maybe it was worse, now, because he certainly wasn"t shy. He flashed her an endearing grin every time their eyes met, like he was waiting for her to swoon or something.

  How could she have been so wrong back in college? What she mistook for bashfulness had evidently just been polite disinterest. But the way those sexy eyes kept lingering on her sure made it seem he was interested now.

  Just like before.

  What was his game?

  She should have cussed him out when she had the chance.

  Frank left the back patio momentarily, and brought an ice chest in from his car. He set it down on the kitchen counter and opened it up, then handed a wine cooler to Shauna.

  “Here you go,” he said. “Miles says you like these.”

  “Thank-you, Frank,” she said, sincerely. “You"re so sweet!”

  “Got one for you, too, if you like,” he said, this time to Celeste, with that heart-stopping smile.

  Celeste shook her head.

  “Got plenty of other stuff,” Frank said, undaunted. “I know you like lemonade, so I got some of that.”

  “I"ll pass,” Celeste said, as coldly as she possibly could.

  Frank"s smile faded into an expression of confusion. He studied her eyes closely, as if piercing right through to her soul. Then, recovering quickly, the smile returned and he said, “Well, if you change your mind, it"ll be right out back, here.” He hefted the ice chest, transferred it to one powerful arm while his other hand slid open the glass patio door, and stepped outside, closing the door behind him.

  Shauna had one hand on her hip, staring at Celeste.

  Uh-oh.

  “Celeste,” she said, with a lecturing tone. “That was just plain rude. You know he"s a friend of ours. Why would you talk to him like that?”

  “I didn"t say anything rude,” Celeste said, lamely, unable to meet Shauna"s gaze. “I just said I"ll pass, that"s all.”

  “You know what I mean. It"s how you talk to him. You were the same way with Miles at first. And that really made it hard for both of us.”

  Celeste thought she should keep a no-big-deal attitude when discussing anything about Frank. She failed. “I"m tired of all these phony-ass men undressing me with their eyes, then expecting me to melt when they offer some token gesture of civility!”

  Shauna"s eyes widened. Celeste turned back to the salad she was tossing.

  “I haven"t seen Frank do that to you,” Shauna finally said, “and I"ve been watching. In fact, he"s never been lewd toward anyone since I"ve known him.”

  Celeste had no answer for that.

  Shauna loweredher voice to a hushed tone. “I don"t believe it, Celeste: it"s like you hate white people. My best friend has become a bigot.”

  Now it was Celeste"s turn to put hand to hip. “Now you know I"m not bigoted, girlfriend. I don"t hate white people; I just don"t trust white men.”

  “Mmm-hmm,” Shauna hummed, skeptically. “That"s spelled B-I-G-OT-ED.”

  Celeste waved her off, but half wondered if there was some truth to the accusation, after the initial shock. After all, few bigots actually saw themselves as such. She hadn"t thought of herself that way. Yet her attitude toward white men had grown cold and hard since that experience so long ago.

  Celeste"s instincts told her to deny it, rationalize it, or change the subject by pointing out a fault in Shauna or Frank. But this was her best friend, and she didn"t want to act childishly. She forced out the words that tasted more bitter than beer mixed with vinegar: “I"m sorry, Shauna. I didn"t know I was coming off like that. I guess I keep projecting my own experiences onto you and Miles and…other folks.”

  Shauna"s expression softened a bit. Celeste had told her about her freshman year. She had confided in nobody else about it.

  “You and Miles really are great together,” Celeste admitted. “You got yourself a good man. And he loves you like you deserve to be loved.”

  Shauna closed the distance between them and hugged her warmly. Celeste wrapped her arms around her best friend and squeezed back.

  Both of them had moist eyes when they let go, and giggled at each other for it.

  “We"re so emotional,” Shauna said, wiping her eyes and returning to the seasoned chicken.

  “I won"t tell if you won"t,” Celeste said, wiping her own eyes.

  They laughed some more at themselves and each other.

  Celeste pondered the ironic coincidences that had conspired against her. Shauna didn"t know Frank was the white boy from her past. Celeste might tell her some day, but didn"t feel comfortable about doing it right now.

  What to do about him? This matured version of him was in her face, almost flirty despite the cold shoulder she turned to him.

  She should at least be polite to him, for Shauna and Miles" sake if for no other reason.

  She regretted misleading him. It was a defensive reflex. She wanted to confront him; throw freshman year in his face; put him in his place.

  …And get some answers?

  She shook her head, disappointed in herself. Why was she still obsessing about that silly childish mess that happened a lifetime ago?

  Shauna"s parents arrived, with Katina. Shauna, her mother, and Katina embraced each other and filled the house with chatter and laughter. Shauna"s father was far more reserved, if not downright uncomfortable. He didn"t trust white boys either, and had not been jubilant about Miles stealing his daughter"s heart. That he was even here must have taken a lot of coercion from Mrs. Gales.

  One of Shauna"s aunts and a couple cousins arrived. Tyrell and Denny, who knew Miles from Avcom, plus Gary, Phil and Brian, friends of Miles since high school and/or college, straggled in afterwards. Shauna warmly greeted each of them, expressing her gratitude for coming. But the arrival she seemed most pleased about was Miles" mother.

  From what Celeste gathered, Miles" relationship with his parents was a fragile one. They had divorced when he was a child, and he didn"t seem to want to even talk about them, much less talk to them. Apparently, each parent refused to attend the party if the other was present, until finally Shauna just decided the mother would be less trouble. And even at that, she hadn"t been sure she would come.

  Even more surprising than Miles" mother was Celeste"s sister, Nikita. Celeste invited her out of desperation when it turned out her other friends all had other plans for the night. Nikita was living in town, now, between men, complaining about being bored on weekends, and Celeste reasoned that with both her and Shauna at the party, Celeste would at least have someone to talk to at all times.

  Nikita was even darker than Shauna. Her face was shaped similar to Celeste"s, but her hair was arranged in an orange-dyed pixie. She wore her usual array of silver jewelry, plus a short red party dress that showed off her substantial curves—an attribute Mama had handed down to both her daughters.

  Celeste had dressed in jeans and a white shirt, knowing Miles well enough not to overdress, but not wanting to look frumpy, either. “This isn"t the club,” she sing-songed through a gritted-teeth smile as she hugged her sister hello at the door.

  Nikita patted her back as if burping her before breaking away to greet Shauna. “I never been to a white folks party,” she announced in her loud, brash voice before accepting Shauna"s hug.

  Noticing Denny talking with Phil across the room, Nikita"s head jerked back slightly. “Oh, and there"s some, right there.”

  Celeste stifled a groan. No matter what kind of mood she was in, everyone within a square mile of
Nikita always knew her thoughts, however shallow, mundane or offensive, because her big mouth broadcast everything to everyone, whether they cared to hear it or not.

  Shauna called Miles periodically to get an idea when he"d be coming home, to time it so the barbeque and other food would be finished on time. After one such call, Miles" supervisor Denny walked up and put an arm around Shauna, giving her shoulder a squeeze.

  “Don"t worry,” Denny said. “I made sure he had a light day today.” Then, with a conspiratorial grin, he added, “But not so light that we all couldn"t get here before him.”

  A little later, her ear to the phone again, but one hand covering the mouthpiece, Shauna told the guests, “Okay, he just finished his last one and is on his way!”

  Denny set down his beer and went outside to load ribs and chicken on the grill. Shauna"s mother went around the living room, pulling the curtains closed. Frank and his crew hurried to test their audio-visual setup.

  Shauna kept on the phone, asking about his day as he drove toward home. She handed the phone to six-year-old Katina after warning her, hand clamped over the receiver, not to blow the secret. Katina chatted and giggled a lot for a few minutes before her mother took the phone back.

  After some more small talk, Shauna covered the mouthpiece again, and hissed, “He"s on our street!”

  Everyone hushed, even Nikita, and Gary turned out the lights.

  “I"m putting you on speakerphone, “Shauna said. “So don"t say anything crazy you don"t want our house painters to hear.”

  “Why are you putting me on speakerphone?” Miles" voice reverbed through the room. “You"ve been kinda" weird for the last couple days. Are you sure you"re okay?”

  “I"m just fine, sweetheart,” Shauna said. “I love you.”

  “How did Katina"s shots go?”

  “She was a little trouper,” Shauna said, reaching down to stroke her daughter"s chin. “They hurt, but she got candy afterwards and she"s good until next year.”

  “That"s my girl.” Even through the tinny speaker, they could all hear the pride in Miles" voice for the daughter that was his in every way except biologically.

  “Are you afraid to tell me you love me with other people listening?” Shauna asked, a teasing tone in her voice.

  “You"re the one with the PDAphobia, remember?”

  “You still haven"t told me.”

  “Okay, okay: I love you too.”

  Starting with the men present, soon joined by the women, a teasing “Awwwww…!” sound reverberated through the living room. Shauna egged them on, grinning, using her free hand to make a “give me more” gesture.

  “Did you hear that?” she asked.

  “I heard. Now my Casanova license is in jeopardy.”

  A few guests around the room chuckled. Then they heard his work van pulling up outside.

  “Jeez, baby! How many painters did you bribe?”

  Shauna bit her lip, laughing silently.

  “Come on now, Shauna: It doesn"t take a hundred people to paint a room. They"ll all be getting in each other"s way.”

  “I"ll talk to you inside,” Shauna said, and hung up.

  The door swung open and Miles wiped his feet before coming inside. “Why is it so dark in here?” he asked.

  The lights turned on and everyone yelled, “Surprise!”

  Miles blushed, scanning the faces around him. At first his expression was one of shock, but it quickly turned into an embarrassed grin as he shook his head, gaze dropping to his feet. Shauna and Katina went to him, pulling him into an embrace.

  Shauna certainly had come a long way. From being too scared to let almost anyone know she was dating a white boy, to a planned showcase of her love for him like this…she had made some long strides.

  Other guests came up to hug Miles, backslap or shake his hand. The most awkward greeting was with his own mother.Nikita and Shauna"s father were content to remain in the background. Celeste made sure to give him the warmest hug she could offer.

  Shauna motioned for silence, and the crowd complied. “A lot of you remember how I was at first, when Miles and I first started seeing each other,” she said, suddenly teary-eyed. “I had some hang-ups.”

  Miles waved his hand back and forth. “C"mon, baby. Don"t worry about it. You don"t need to—”

  Shauna gently placed four tiny fingers over his mouth. A few girls laughed at how she shut him up.

  “It might have seemed like I was ashamed of him,” Shauna continued, sounding choked. “But I promise you, I"ve never been ashamed of this wonderfulman.” Now the tears flowed freely down her cheeks and audible sobs broke through her speech. “I love this man with my whole heart, and I want everybody important to us to know how proud I am to be with him.” She faced Miles, gazing up into his eyes. “Miles, honey, I love you so much…” and then she couldn"t overpower the emotions anymore.

  Miles picked her up off the floor in a tight hug, closing his eyes, pressing his face against the side of hers, kissing at her tears. She buried her face into his collar and clung to him desperately.

  Celeste felt a bit choked up, herself. She glanced toward Nikita, halfexpecting her sister to be miming a gag reflex. But Nikita behaved herself, perhaps even a bit reverent for the occasion.

  After Shauna got her crying under control, Miles finally lowered her back to her feet. Everyone stared at him, expectantly.

  Blushing again, Miles looked around the living room and said, “You all didn"t paint a doggone thing.”

  Everyone burst out laughing—a comfortable relief after Shauna"s tear- jerking display.

  Miles held his hands up in a calming gesture. “Okay. I"m not big on speeches, but I want it on the record that I think I"m the lucky one here.”

  Somebody hooted.

  “All of you who know Shauna probably have an idea how beautiful she is, on the inside and out. But none of you have any idea how beautiful she is to me.” Now he looked down, as if it was difficult to express what he was about to share. “I"ve never been in love before. And if I hadn"t been so lucky as to meet Shauna, that would still be true. But I"m so in love with her…she can paint the house any color she wants.”

  Whether he planned it that way or not, Miles charmed the crowd perfectly. People were touched by his declaration of love, but able to laugh heartily, hiding whatever sentiments they didn"t feel comfortable showing.

  Miles dipped Shauna backwards to plant a passionate kiss on her mouth. Shauna wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him back. There were whistles and catcalls, then even clapping when Miles let go of her.

  Now Katina jumped into Miles" arms. “Don"t worry, daddy: Thirty isn"t too old.”

  Everyone laughed again.

  “Hey, the party"s out back,” Frank announced.

  Miles, Shauna and Katina led the procession out to the back patio, where Frank and his crew had set up a DJ booth, a screen and video projector along with speakers and amplifiers all over the yard.

  Frank leaned over to speak into the DJ"s microphone. “I picked this first one, Miles ol" buddy, to cheer you up.” He nodded to the DJ, who pushed a button.

  “What a drag it is getting old…” blared the Rolling Stones over the sound system. Everyone burst out laughing. Frank wiggled his eyebrows at Celeste. Miles mimed death threats at Frank.

  Celeste approached the DJ and put in a request of her own.

  Pleasing aromas were wafting from the grill. Some of the men lined up to get the first pieces of chicken.

  When the DJ played her request, Celeste waited for Frank to seek her out, then wiggled her eyebrows at him as the Beatles screamed, “You say it"s your birthday…!”

  When the DJ slowed it down to some R&B jams, Shauna"s parents began to dance on the patio. Shauna pulled Miles out, too. In time, Tyrell was out showing his moves, first with one of Shauna"s cousins, then with Nikita.

  Poor Tyrell, Celeste thought.

  The DJ"s voice piped through the sound system. “Got another request. Y"all are kill
in" me with these oldies—gotta dig waaaaaaaay down in my collection to find some of these. This next song is dedicated to Celeste, from Frank.”

  Celeste"s heart stopped, as her face heated, cringing at whatever was going to happen next.

  “Why Can"t We Be Friends” was the song. Shauna"s mom hooted, still dancing, and really began to get her groove on, now.

  Nikita, fresh back from her dance with Tyrell, sidled up to Celeste. “So who"s Frank, baby sister?”

  “Just a friend of Miles,” Celeste mumbled.

  “He wanna be your fri-end!” Nikita sang, gyrating in a circle, teasing her with a puckeredlips expression. “Was that the young brotha I just danced with?”

  “No, Nikita,” Celeste sighed. “Frank is white.”

  Nikita"s eyebrows raised. “There"s a whole lot of jungle feva goin" on up in here, ain"t there?”

  Across the yard, Frank grinned at Celeste, raising his beer in toast.

  “Nikita, please. That is such a demeaning phrase.”

  “Ooooh,” Nikita intoned. “Baby sis still got a thing for vanilla, huh?”

  “I never had a „thing" for white boys,” Celeste retorted, struggling to keep her voice down. “I just wasn"t prejudiced like you and Mama.”

  “So which one is Frank? Point him out.”

  “Why? So you can embarrass both of us?”

  “I"m just curious.”

  “There"s nothing there,” Celeste said. “Shauna and Miles are our mutual friends, that"s all.”

  “And he dedicated a song to you.”

  “Please don"t go telling this to Mama and spreading it around everywhere. We had kind of an argument about music. I guess this is his way of apologizing or something.”

  Nikita gyrated to the beat some more, snapping her fingers. “Why can"t you be friends? I don"t know, Celeste. Sounds like he"s kinda" puttin" himself out there for you, all public and stuff.”

  “Maybe he is attracted to me,” Celeste said. “That doesn"t mean I feel it, too.”

  “Alright, baby sis. Aight. I"ma" go get some ribs.”

  Soon everybody was seated outside on lawn chairs or at fold-up tables, with Styrofoam plates full of barbeque, salad, potatoes, macaroni and other back yard fare. The DJ played light tunes you might hear at a restaurant. Celeste sat between Shauna and her cousins, Katina playing musical laps on them until whenever Miles sat down—then she clung to him like ivy, and ate right off his plate.