by K Elliott
“You like her, don’t you?”
“Yeah, she’s cool,” Jamal said, remembering the good times he and Dream had at the beach.
“Didn’t you say she was a teacher?” Dawg asked.
Jamal nodded. “Yeah.”
“What in the hell do you have in common with someone like her? I thought we were players. You need someone from the hood.”
“Listen, junior,” Jamal teased, “the one thing I’ve found to be true, is that every successful man needs a strong woman by his side, preferably someone without a whole bunch of issues. I mean, I don’t need the drama, and I definitely ain’t trying to be down in no projects taking care of nobody’s kids. I need a sense of normalcy, and I think I can get that with a career woman.”
“Normalcy? What kind of word is that? You think you a scholar now?” Dawg asked.
“No, I ain’t no scholar, but I ain’t no dumb mu’fucka either.”
“Well, I hope your little teacher girlfriend calls you. I know you blew enough money on her down in Miami. I wouldn’t have bought nothing until I hit the skins.”
Jamal sat in silence. Dawg had made him feel stupid for splurging on Dream. For the first time since leaving Miami, he felt like he would never see her again.
*** It was eleven o’clock when Jamal arrived at his condo. The phone rang as soon as he opened the door. He wondered who in the hell was calling at this time of night. He knew it wasn’t any of his workers because he had asked them not to call him after nine o’clock. He would conduct no business at night. “Hello,” he answered.
“Is this Jamal?” the voice asked.
“Yeah, who is this?”
“This is Dream. I met you in Miami, remember?”
He smiled. Sure, he remembered. Besides making money, she
was all he could think about. She was the woman he wanted to marry. He wanted her to have his children. He remembered everything about her—from her scent to that curvaceous body. However, he wouldn’t let her know he was thinking about her. “So what’s been up since Miami?” he asked.
“Oh, nothing. Just working as a tutor.”
“I didn’t think I was going to hear from you again.” “What makes you say that? I thought we had a good time
together.”
“Yeah, I did as well, but it’s been close to two weeks and I hadn’t
heard from you. I thought you had forgotten about me.” “No. I was kind of busy, but I definitely didn’t forget about you.
I had a wonderful time.”
“So have you been thinking about me?” he asked.
“Absolutely.”
He walked into his bedroom with the cordless phone. “What
have you been thinking about?”
“The massage you gave me and what a great cuddler you are.” Jamal’s mind went back to the hotel room in Miami. He thought
about Dream’s smooth skin against his. Damn he missed her. He
even missed her scent. “Maybe you’ll invite me over for more
massages,” he said as he lay across his bed and rested his hand on
his crotch while imagining her lying beside him.
“What are you doing tomorrow?”
“Nothing,” he replied.
“Let’s get together tomorrow,” she said.
*** Jamal and Dream decided to meet at Sandford’s Urban Bistro, a downtown soul food restaurant. She looked even sexier than he’d remembered. She was wearing a beige pantsuit with heels, and he could tell she had a fresh manicure and pedicure. She paid attention to details and he liked that. He wore a sweat suit and some running shoes. He felt underdressed until she complimented him on his outfit. They had good conversation and white wine by candlelight, and they listened in on a poetry reading—a first for Jamal.
When Jamal looked like he wasn’t enjoying himself, Dream asked what he would like to do.
“I just like simple stuff, like renting movies and chillin’ out.”
“Homebody, huh?”
“I guess you can say that.”
“You don’t strike me as the homebody type. In Miami, you were wide open.”
“Well, in Miami, I was kind of celebrating.”
“What were you celebrating?”
“Freedom.”
Confused, she asked, “What do you mean, freedom?”
He turned from her gaze. “Dream, you remember when I told you that I use to live in Orlando?”
“Yeah? Were you lying or something?”
He didn’t want to tell her about his past, but he didn’t want to go into the relationship lying. He had already told her that he got his money from the streets, but this was the real test. “Well, I didn’t exactly live in Orlando, but I was incarcerated in Florida at a federal prison.”
“I see,” she said, and looked away.
“I’m sorry, but I thought I needed to tell you this.”
“I appreciate your honesty,” she replied.
When they left Sandford’s, Jamal walked her to her Jeep and she gave him a small peck on his cheek. “I guess this means we won’t be seeing each other again, huh?” Jamal asked.
She smiled. “Now I didn’t say that, did I?”
“Am I jumping to conclusions?”
“I think so. I was just thinking that I had a good time, but I could tell you weren’t enjoying yourself. Maybe the next time we can go to the movies. I’ll bring my girlfriend Keisha along, you can bring your boy along, and we can double date.”
“That’ll be cool.”
*** “I don’t like that broad,” Dawg said of Keisha after Jamal asked him to join him on a double date.
“I didn’t say you had to like her. Just do it for me.”
Dawg threw his hands up in disgust. “I guess I’ll go, but don’t expect me to be putting Keisha on a pedestal, because she’s just another broad to me.”
“That’s fine, man, calm down.”
“How should I dress?”
“Well, when me and Dream went out I wore a sweat suit and she wore some kind of pantsuit. To tell you the truth, I felt kind of underdressed, but I’m figuring that since we are just going to the movies and dinner, you can come casual.”
“Good. I hope you’re paying. Don’t even look at me when the check comes. I’m letting you know now that I ain’t paying for nothing.”
“I got it. Don’t worry about nothing. I’ll pay for everybody,” Jamal said, laughing.
*** After the movie, the group went to the Cheesecake Factory. After they were seated in a booth in the back of the restaurant, Jamal began to whisper jokes in Dream’s ear, and they laughed and flirted.
Keisha looked incredible. She was wearing a black tube dress with heels and her black shiny hair cascaded down her shoulders beautifully. Dawg was actually glad to be sitting next to her until she said, “Will you please get your elbows off the table?”
Dawg frowned. “Who do you think you are, my mother?” “No. Thank God that I ain’t.”
Jamal saw that Dawg was becoming angry and nudged him
underneath the table.
“What is that suppose to mean?” Dawg asked Keisha. “Nothing. You just don’t have any table manners, that’s all.” Dream made eye contact with Keisha. “Be nice, will you?” she
whispered.
“I’ve tried to be nice by coming along on this date. You know I
didn’t even want to come. For one thing, he is not my type, and
he has no class.”
“How you gonna say I ain’t got no class. You don’t even know
me. I mean, it ain’t all about you,” Dawg said.
“It ain’t all about you either. At least I know not to sit with my
elbows propped up on a table where food is going to be served.” “You are one ignorant bitch,” Dawg said.
“Oh, no you didn’t just call my friend a bitch,” Dream said. “You heard me,” Dawg said.
“Come on, everybody. Calm down,” Jamal said.
“Tal
k to your boy. He is real disrespectful,” Dream said. Jamal pulled Dawg aside. “I know you don’t like Keisha, but can
you just chill a minute for me?”
“I’m gonna chill, man, but don’t you see that these hoochies
think they’re better than us?”
“Just because she told you not to sit with your elbows on the
table?”
“It’s the way she said it.”
“Just chill until we finish eating.”
*** Jamal and Dawg got back to the booth but the girls were gone. Jamal quickly tossed a hundred-dollar bill on the table and ran to the parking lot. As Dream was about to pull off, he stopped her. “Can I talk to you?”
Dream glanced over at Keisha who was still huffing. “I need to take Keisha home.”
“Go ahead, talk to him,” Keisha said.
Dream jumped out of the car and she and Jamal walked around to the rear of the vehicle to talk.
“Listen, I’m sorry about what happened in there. I really don’t think we should have double-dated in the first place,” Jamal said.
“Well, I know it’s easy to say we shouldn’t have now, but we did, and your friend Dawg is a real negative person. He didn’t have to call Keisha a bitch.”
“You gotta understand, me and Dawg are street guys; table manners are not on our list of priorities.”
“Is that a reason to call somebody a bitch?”
“No, and I apologize for him.”
“I have to take Keisha home.”
“Will I see you again? I mean, I don’t think our friends should have anything to do with us seeing each other again.”
“I’ll call you tonight, and we’ll talk.”
“Promise?”
Dream looked him in the eyes. “I promise.”
After Jamal dropped Dawg off, he went home and showered. After he toweled off, he sat on the sofa thinking about what had happened at the restaurant. He wanted Dream to be in his life badly. He needed someone he could count on. He had Dawg, but their relationship was different. They were like brothers, and though they had love for each other, Jamal needed a woman in his life, especially since he didn’t know where his mother was.
As he admired his body in the mirror, he noticed a hint of flab forming around his waist. It was nothing to be concerned about. He knew he would probably lose his toned frame eventually. While in prison he’d had a lot of time to work out. Now that he was free, he had neither the time nor the discipline to work out on a daily basis.
He began to wonder if he had done the right thing by telling Dream he was previously in prison. He figured Dream must have told Keisha about his past. It seemed to him that Keisha had come on the date with her guard up and she’d expected something to happen. She wasn’t the same friendly girl he had met on the flight to Miami. Jamal felt as if he and Dawg were being judged. He remembered when girls thought it was cool to date hustlers. Has this whole idea changed? he wondered. Had he drifted out of his league? After all, Dream was an intelligent career woman who didn’t need his money.
He went into his bedroom and pulled a box of belongings from underneath his bed. The box contained letters he’d gotten while in prison and a small picture of him and his mother at an amusement park on his eighth birthday. He stared at the picture. He noticed that his mother and Dream had the same build and that they were the same complexion. He wondered if he had seen his mother in Dream, who was not the type he normally dated. He had dated mostly girls from the street, whose friends didn’t know what table manners were. Jamal thought about finding someone else to date, but he wanted Dream.
Dream had called Jamal the next day, and he apologized again for how Dawg had acted. She accepted his apology but didn’t want to talk about what had happened again. She’d given him directions to her apartment, but before arriving, he had stopped at Blockbuster and rented Men of Honor.
Midway through the movie they were all over each other. When Jamal finally attempted to pull Dream’s underwear down, she stopped him. “Wait. Let’s get in the shower first,” she suggested.
While in the shower she washed his back, and she asked him to wash hers. He started, but he was unable to finish once his eyes locked in on her ass. He drove his sex inside her, and when she moaned, her voice was filled with pleasure. The water was hot and refreshing as he grinded slowly and rhythmically. Finally, he turned her towards him. She stuck her tongue in his ear before biting down on his neck. He then picked her up and carried her to the bedroom and finished being the man she knew he was.
The next day Jamal came over with The Brothers and the day after it was Love Jones. On the fourth day he brought Kings of Comedy. She laughed when she opened the door.
“What’s so funny?” he asked.
“I see a pattern starting here.”
“What are you talking about?”
“I mean, every day this week you’ve come over, brought a movie, and we’ve fucked. We have got to start doing something else.”
“What else is there to do?”
“How about you and me go have dinner with my parents?”
“That’s cool,” he quickly responded, though he didn’t really want to meet her parents.
CHAPTER 7
J AMAL HATED THE NELSONS immediately. They were too perfect, and they talked too much. The girls he had dealt with in the past had major drama in their families, like infidelity or substance abuse. Never had he imagined sitting at the dinner table with the perfect family, passing potatoes and green beans after saying grace and answering questions about his personal life during the meal.
“So, Jamal, where did you go to school?” Mr. Nelson asked. David Nelson was a dark, slender man with salt-and-pepper hair. “I went to Garinger High School,” Jamal answered. David Nelson frowned. “Did you attend college?”
“No. Didn’t want to go,” Jamal said, placing his elbows on the
table.
“Why not?” Janice Nelson asked.
“’Cause I was tired of school,” he answered. “Besides I’m doing
okay for myself.”
“What is it that you do?” Janice asked.
“He sells urban clothing. You know it’s a lot of money in that,”
Dream lied, not knowing what else to say. “Could y’all just chill with the questions?” Mr. Nelson stared at his daughter oddly before buttering his roll. “Well, baby, we’re just trying to get to know your friend. Don’t get upset.”
“It’s okay,” Jamal said, turning to Dream. “See, Jamal doesn’t mind,” Janice said before resuming the questioning. “Who are your parents and where do they work?”
Jamal wished he could say something extraordinary about his parents. He thought about lying but quickly decided not to. He didn’t owe these people anything, and he surely didn’t have to see them again if he didn’t want to. He took a quick sip from his water before he spoke. “I haven’t seen my father since I was a kid, and I lost contact with my mother about five years ago,” he said softly.
Not knowing what else to say, the Nelsons remained silent for the duration of the meal.
*** After Jamal had taken Dream home, he drove around the city reflecting on the evening. He thought about the Nelsons and how they both seemed so phony. He really doubted that any family could be that perfect. The Nelsons made it clear that they would prefer Dream to be involved with someone who had at least attended college. He was not good enough for their daughter. He wondered whether he had made a mistake by telling the Nelsons the truth about his parents. He certainly wasn’t proud of the fact that his parents had not been there for him, and he definitely regretted that he had been to prison. But it was the truth.
An hour later, Jamal found himself at Club Champagne, a strip club. He was depressed and he wanted something to drink.
Jamal sat next to the stage and was on his third Heineken. A tall light-skinned woman approached. She had a perfectly toned body and hair down to her waist. The stripper was wearing a black garter belt a
nd G-string. She wore a tiny red football jersey with the number 69 etched in gold glitter and a pair of stilettos.
Her smile revealed beautiful white teeth. “Hello, Sexy. My name is Candy. Would you like a dance?”
Jamal sipped his drink before responding. “I didn’t come here for dances. I came here to have a drink.”
Candy frowned and sat on Jamal’s lap before he could say anything. “Why are you so uptight? Relax, baby. I’m here to make you feel better.”
Jamal looked Candy in her slightly slanted eyes and wondered if she part was Asian. “So how can you make me feel better?” he asked.
She blushed. “Well, we can start with a dance, and who knows what can happen next.” Candy grabbed Jamal’s arm and led him to the VIP section for more privacy.
Eight dances and two Heinekens later, Jamal asked. “How much will it cost for me to take you home?”
She laughed, running her fingers through his braids. “What about your woman?”
“What about her?” he slurred.
“Five hundred dollars and I’ll go home with you.”
“Are you out of your fuckin’ mind?”
“That’s my price, take it or leave it.” Candy got up from his lap and pulled a large amount of dollar bills from her garter belt. “I know you got the money. You’ve already spent close to two hundred dollars on dances tonight. Plus, I have to pay the club owner if I leave early.”
Jamal contemplated for a few minutes. He had never outright paid for sex before, but he was drunk and horny. “How long will it take you to get dressed?”
“Five minutes.”
They stopped at the Waffle House to get some hash browns and eggs. Shortly afterwards, they arrived at Jamal’s condo, and he led her to the bedroom where they quickly got undressed.
“Do you have a condom?” she asked.
“No, I don’t.”
Candy smiled “Don’t worry, I’ve got one.” She reached down in her purse and pulled out a small blue-and-white condom packet.
“That ain’t gonna work.”
Confused, she asked, “What do you mean?”
“I got too much for that little condom.”
“Don’t flatter yourself,” she said, giggling.
“Seriously, those ain’t made for brothers.”