Dear Drama

by Braya Spice

  “You pretend to be that man. Then, when he do come, I ain’t got nothing to give him, because by the time I get to him, sorry-ass men like you have drained me. I tell you, it fucks me up because you don’t want to share with me that you don’t wanna do right. So you pretend to do right, while all along, behind my back, you doing me so wrong. Like I asked you to be there. I didn’t. And finally, I’m tired of men like you who come into my life, reserve your spot in my baby’s heart, and walk out of it, and it’s so fucking easy. Like this thing ... life is all about you and don’t nobody else matter.”

  I got closer to his face. “You came in my life, and you fought for me. Said you would never play me like other men would. You ended up hurting me more than anyone could. I gave you what you wanted, and I never half stepped. I didn’t come with the problems I could have come with, James. I loved you, really loved you. When I told you I was pregnant, you was cool on me. Fine. I went on. Then here you come again. But you still had no real intent to do right. If you did, you wouldn’t have been fucking around.

  “Then I take you back, and when we needed each other the most, you bounced. You pop back up, fuck me, and leave. And if that’s not enough, you slap me in the face by getting married and explaining how she is more of a woman for you and how I’m not! Bullshit. You don’t want me, cool. But don’t come back, make promises, and leave me again. You don’t love me, cool, but don’t you dare sit in my face and hold me responsible for that! Try to make me feel like I’m lacking something, ’cause you ain’t shit and ’cause you lack a conscience and fucking humility.”

  He placed one of his hands in the air. “Okay, you’re right, Allure. I know I fucked up. And I know what kind of woman you are. I know you’re a good woman baby. But I really thought I didn’t want to be with you. I popped back up to tell you I was getting married. And truth be told, I realized in that moment, standing in your living room, that you were the one I loved, not her, and that I craved for time to rewind and that day I treated you the way I did that I had did things differently, held you, comforted you, and made love to you again. Went to sleep in your arms, then woke up, fed Sierra, went on to work, and looked forward to being in your arms when I came home. But it was too late, and I couldn’t do shit about it but make love to you and marry my fiancée.

  “Somewhere along the way the wrong things became important to me. So my mind was already made up. But in that moment, staring at you in that robe, seeing that look you had in your eyes, the way you used to stare at me, Allure, like I was a king, same with Sierra ... Being around you two ... baby, it was different than with any other woman. I always felt like I was important. Doing simple shit, like dumping the trash, you were always gracious, appreciated me. If I brought Sierra a lollipop, you would have thought I delivered a fucking pony on your doorstep.”

  He went on. “And, shit, I felt powerful with you, like a real man. You let me lead, and you respected the decisions I made. You let me have it however I wanted it whenever I wanted it. You made a point to please me. You engaged with me. Listened to all the bullshit I talked like you were really interested. You wanted me there. I felt like I had a real woman that would do anything for me and would always be loyal to me.

  “Jeremiah’s death crushed me. I wouldn’t grieve. Instead, I filled myself up with anger and took it out on you, when, baby, I know you were hurting just as much as I was. And even in your pain you tried to help me get past mine. How could I not have loved a woman like you? That’s how you used to make me feel, and when I went back that day to see you, you still had that look, still after all I had done. It showed me you could love me again ... showed me you still loved me. She and I ... . it doesn’t feel like it feels when it’s you and me together.”

  The stuff he was saying was crushing me. Because he did love me, and if he had done some things different, we would still be together. And he had completely ruined the chance of mending our relationship by marrying her. He didn’t have to do that!

  “If you felt that way, then why didn’t you call the wedding off? Why leave me with a false pretense and go off and marry someone else?”

  “At the time I thought it was the right thing to do because she was pregnant.”

  “Okay. So you have a wife and a baby on the way with this better woman, right? Then what do you want from me?” I was trying hard to look at him, but his words had me teary-eyed, so I kept my eyes closed. I loved him and I couldn’t ... I couldn’t have him.

  “I want to see you again, baby. I can’t divorce her. But I can’t not have you in my life.”

  No, the fuck he didn’t! See me again? That was what this was about? He was trying to fuck around on his wife with me, and he thought I was going to let him? He had me fucked up. As much as I loved him and probably would always love him, I refused to be a sidepiece.

  “No.” I grabbed my purse and stood to my feet.

  He stood as well.

  “You know what? I knew you didn’t invite me here to make things right. I shouldn’t have even agreed to meet you. After all we have shared, gone through, and all you have done to me, you want to make me a sidepiece.”

  “Allure!”

  “Look, you had my trust and my love. I begged you not to hurt me, to be up front, and you weren’t. You came into my and Sierra’s life, and you fucked it up. Now we back on track. We’ve moved past this and you... .” I took a deep breath. “Save this. You don’t know what the fuck you want. So I’m not gonna entertain your bullshit. I have given you chance after chance, and every damn time that I do, you do some shit to hurt me.”

  When I say I was crying, man, was I crying.

  “Sierra and I, we deserve so much more than you. Somebody who is going to love us, honor us, protect our hearts, not continue to step on them. He will appreciate the blessing that he has. That’s something you could have done, but you chose not to.”

  I turned to go and was walking to the door when he chased after me and grabbed my arm snugly.

  “I love you, baby. Don’t end it like this.” It was like he was warning me.

  I looked him squarely in his eyes. “You ended it like this. Go home to your ugly-ass wife.”

  I released his hold on my arm and walked out the door.

  My composure during our confrontation vanished as soon as I made it to my sister’s truck. For thirty minutes I cried like a baby, for a mixture of reasons. Some I understood; some I didn’t. I understood that this was someone I had come to care for deeply. Someone I had made love to, had had a kid with, and someone who had never belonged to me and never would. He had basically tried to change my status. He wanted me to be the jump-off now that she was wifey. And the truth was, I felt sorry for her, because if he hadn’t introduced her to heartache yet, he would. Funny thing was, at first, when I found out that he had married another woman, I wanted to be that woman. Now I wanted neither of those spots. She had actually done me a favor, because James was now out of my life for good.

  Epilogue

  May 25, 2011, six months later ...

  I graduated from college. I didn’t think I could have got through it or made it this far without a certain day occurring and the encouraging words that day gave me.

  It was the day after I had met with James. As much as I knew that I needed to move past him, I was still feeling hurt by the stuff that he told me. I knew I was going to get over this in time. But James and I had a history, so it would not be easy. And to be honest, I thought that the love that I had for him just might be a love that would always be with me.

  I was sitting on my porch, watching Sierra play, when Etta’s late ass came through the gate. Today she rather quickly deposited the mail in the boxes. I waved at her, and she approached me.

  In all the time she had been delivering the mail to our building, Etta had never taken the time to have a heart-to-heart talk with me. We would just say hey and chop it up here and there. But never about personal stuff. But I knew she was nosy as hell and was well acquainted with my business and who c
ame and went from my apartment. So I was surprised when she came over and said, “You mind if I sit next to you?”

  “Go ahead.”

  She got comfortable on the porch. “Thanks, girl. Them white folks ain’t gonna kill me today.”

  I chuckled.

  She observed me.

  “Did you ever think that the reason you haven’t found the right man is because it’s not your time? Sometimes God lets bad things happen to us as a sign that something is not right. He also does it to make us stronger. God got a plan for you, and you gotta stop fighting it. I bet that little girl got enough love in her little heart that not ten of these fools you come across could measure up to. And while you out searching, you fail to realize that your time will come, when it’s time. I‘m an old lady, but follow my words, darling. Focus on you, and let God lead that man to you.”

  Once I got over the surprise of what she had said, I told her, “You gotta excuse my frustration with God, ma’am. Every man he seems to send me breaks my heart. All these men I didn’t go looking for, and still they managed to hurt me and leave scars.”

  “Baby girl, them ain’t sent from God. God’s gonna send you a real man, and he’s gonna be so good to you that at times you gonna think he’s all you need. Damn food, television, the clubs, girlfriends, and jewelry, all that shit. And with everything you give, he’s gonna give it right back to you and then some. And when you really look at it, he’ll be all you need. And all those clowns from your past will serve their purpose too. They gave you the ability of discernment. So you’ll see through the bullshit from this point on. But for now just focus on you and that little girl.” She blew a kiss to Sierra. “The right guy, he’s gonna love her like she’s his own. Why wouldn’t anyone, anyway?”

  I didn’t know what to say, but I didn’t get a chance to say anything.

  She said, “Girl, go on and get your mail.” And she rose and walked toward the gate.

  “All right. Come sit with me again sometime,” I offered.

  She chuckled. “I will.”

  “Sierra, in a minute you need to come in and help me with dinner.”

  Although it still sucked to be alone, I had Sierra there with me, so I wasn’t so alone. It was just the way I looked at it, I suppose. I didn’t have a man by my side, but I had a special little girl who loved me to pieces.

  I stood and walked to the mailboxes. I pulled my keys from my wrist and unlocked my mailbox. I knew it wasn’t nothing more than bills. I pulled my letters out and closed the box back up. I had my phone bill, gas bill, light bill, cable bill. But there was one more letter peeking through the stack.

  “Sierra, come on,” I called.

  My eyes passed over the label on the last envelope. ACCOUNTABLE HEALTH. My doctor’s office. The bastards who let a homeless bitch give me a false reading. What did they want now? I thought. To tell me they had made another mistake and I indeed had AIDS? I ripped open the envelope and yanked out the letter, my fingers rubbing against the staple in it.

  Dear Ms. Jones,

  I was surprised and disappointed to hear of your unpleasant experience at our facility. Professionalism is important to us, and we strive to provide our patients not only with accurate health services but also with courteous service. Needless to say, we have dealt with this issue internally, and it will never occur again in our facility. Please allow us to fix this problem—so that you don’t feel compelled to seek counsel and, more importantly, so we don’t lose you as a customer—with this check attached and our sincerest apologies.

  I stopped reading the letter and I flipped the page over and my eyes got buckwide. Stapled to the next page was a check for twenty thousand dollars.

  I screamed and kicked my feet in the air. That meant I could finish my last year in college without struggling, buy a new car!

  Sierra came running up to me. “Mommy, what is it?”

  I scooped her in my arms and kissed her all over her face. She laughed and struggled in my arms.

  Etta was across the street, watching us and cracking up laughing.

  Thinking about that day now had me teary eyed. I looked at where I was then, how hopeless I felt, and how I felt now. I was definitely in better spirits and was so full of hope for the future, for the journey Sierra and I would go on now, and for what God had in store for us.

  When the dean of the college announced my name at my graduation, I stood and smoothed down my skirt. I heard my mom, Crystal, Kendra, and Creole. They all screamed my name until their voices sounded strained, but no voice was sweeter than that of my daughter, and when she saw me take the podium, she cheered and clapped with joy. There I was, now twenty-five, a single parent and now a college graduate—the first in my family. I wasn’t married, or even engaged, there was no man waiting for me with roses and a kiss, and there was no man to take me out to celebrate my success, a success that seemed to have taken me a lifetime to achieve.

  But I was alive, God had got me up that morning, and most of all, I knew I had myself, and that made everything okay. I knew one day God was going to send a man my way, a real man who would love everything about me. But until then I was going to focus on myself and Sierra, like Etta said, and not be so gung ho about giving myself to a man and accepting his BS just to fill the void, just to have a piece of a man. Nor did I need to allow a man to hurt or mistreat me and then just accept it out of fear I would lose that person. I had learned that if a man didn’t treat me right, he didn’t deserve to be in my life, anyway. I had needed to find a quick-fix-it man and had gone from one bad guy to the next. All that did was bring problems into my life and make it more chaotic. I was moving on and saying good-bye to all that drama.

  The End

  About the Author

  Braya Spice also writes as Karen Williams. She is the author of Harlem On Lock, The People Vs. Cashmere, Dirty to the Grave, Thug in Me, and Aphrodisiacs: Erotic Short Stories. She is also in the anthologies Around the Way Girls 7 and Even Sinners Have Souls Too. She currently lives in Bellflower, California, works as a probation officer, and is the mother of two, Adara, fourteen, and Bralynn, two.

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  Dear Drama Copyright © 2012 Braya Spice

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any means without prior consent of the Publisher, except brief quotes used in reviews.

  ISBN: 978-1-5998-3287-6

  This is a work of fiction. Any references or similarities to actual events, real people, living, or dead, or to real locales are intended to give the novel a sense of reality. Any similarity in other names, characters, places, and incidents is entirely coincidental.

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