Dating Games

by RM Johnson

  “There,” Livvy said. “Well, I know that about you now, and that’s more than enough to know that it’ll never work.”

  THIRTY-EIGHT

  LATER THAT night, Rafe and Henny sat in his car, parked out in front of her building. He had picked her up after work and taken her home, even though she said she felt like celebrating him going down to school with her.

  “What’s wrong? You haven’t said anything all night,” Henny said, staring at the side of his face.

  Rafe didn’t respond, just kept looking out the windshield, because he didn’t want to say what he knew he had to, what he had been convinced to tell her.

  “Ain’t nothin’,” Rafe said, under his voice, his eyes still pointed forward.

  “Raphiel. Raphiel, look at me,” Henny said, when he continued not to acknowledge her. Rafe reluctantly turned his face toward her.

  “You got to be open with me. Now just tell me. We can’t be living together down at school, and you start acting like—”

  Rafe cut her off, not knowing any other way to tell her. “I’m not going with you to school.”

  Henny fell silent, unable to voice words for a moment, then asked quietly, “What do you mean you’re not going to school with me? We just decided that you were.”

  “Well, I’m not now,” Rafe said, his tone filled with anger. He didn’t mean to be cross with Henny. It wasn’t her fault.

  “You would just get in the way,” Henny’s mother had said to him. “I’ve been speaking to Henny’s ex-boyfriend down there, and he’s looking forward to her coming. He wants to get back together. So it’s best you just leave her alone, because how could you compare to him?”

  Rafe balled his hands into tight fists and shut his eyes, trying to suppress those words from echoing in his head. “I’m sorry,” he said. “But I just can’t go, so you might as well just get on out. Leave.”

  “But Raphiel,” Henny pleaded.

  “And I don’t think that we should see each other anymore.”

  The look on Henny’s face changed from sadness to anger. “What the hell is going on with you!”

  “Nothin’,” Rafe said casually, turning away from her as if none of this meant anything to him, when actually it was killing him inside.

  Henny grabbed his shirt at the shoulder, pulling at him to make him turn around. “No. That’s bullshit. You just don’t change your mind like that. Something happened, and I want you to tell me what.”

  Rafe looked at her, an apathetic expression on his face at first. Then all of a sudden he looked as though he was in as much pain as she was. He started to shake his head.

  “Raphiel, please tell me. Just tell me.”

  THE ELEVATOR couldn’t go up to her floor quick enough, and Henny couldn’t burst into the apartment fast enough to curse her mother out.

  The tears Henny cried hadn’t mattered—these being the same tears that stung her face now. Rafe wouldn’t listen, just kept pulling away from her, kept telling her she had to go, and kept trying to push her out the car. What did her mother say to him? she kept asking herself. It had to have been very bad, she thought, as Raphiel got out the car, came around to her side, opened the door, and pulled her out. It had to have been so bad.

  “I’m sorry,” he said, and he was hiding his face. She couldn’t see the tears but heard them in his voice, and she knew he was crying too.

  He quickly jumped back into the car and sped off, Henny running behind him a number of yards, her arm outstretched, as if trying to grab onto some piece of him.

  Now the elevator doors opened, and Henny practically ran out of them, thrust the key into the lock on her apartment door, opened it, then furiously slammed it shut.

  Livvy had been sitting on the sofa, peacefully watching TV, but jumped, whipping her head in the direction of the door. “What is your problem slamming the door like that?”

  Henny stood just inside the apartment, her chest heaving, fists at her sides, an angry scowl on her face. “How dare you, Mama!”

  “Child, what are you talking about?” Livvy said, looking at Henny as if she had lost her mind.

  “You went to Rafe’s house, didn’t you?”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “Don’t play that shit with me,” Henny threw back.

  “What?” Livvy said, shocked.

  “I said, don’t play that shit!” Henny raised her voice, taking steps forward. “You went to his house to tell him not to see me anymore, that me and David were going to get back together, when I can’t remember the last time I even spoke to him. How could you have done that?” Henny said, the tears spilling quickly from her eyes again.

  “Baby,” Livvy said, rising slowly from the sofa. “It would never work—”

  “How would you know!” Henny yelled.

  “Because I been through it,” Livvy said, speaking in a soothing voice. “I’ve been where you are, and I know what you’re thinking: that you love this boy, and you two will be together forever, happily ever after. But sweetheart, it don’t work that way. It’s hard enough being two people that got everything in common, but you got nothing.”

  “You don’t know that,” Henny said.

  “You’re going to college. He’s been to jail. Don’t sound like a lot in common to me.”

  “How did you find that out?” Henny gasped, looking toward her bedroom, knowing that Ally had to have betrayed her trust, told their mother about his prison time, even though her sister promised that she wouldn’t.

  “It doesn’t matter how I found out.”

  “I don’t care what you think, Mama. I love him, and he’s coming down to school with me, whether you like it or not!” Henny stormed away and headed toward her bedroom so she could take care of business with her sister. Before she was able to take two steps, she was grabbed by the arm and spun around to face her mother.

  “I don’t know who you think you’re talking to, young lady, but I am still your mother. And it does matter what I think. If I say he’s not going to school with you, then he’s not.”

  Henny snatched her arm out of her mother’s grasp. “I’ll be eighteen by the time I leave, and I’m going on scholarship money. You ain’t payin’ for none of it, so you can talk all you want, but it don’t mean a thing.”

  Her mother was stunned, and Henny could see it on her face, but she didn’t care. She deserved to be hurt right now.

  “Hennesey, baby,” Livvy said, taking a milder approach, grabbing her softly by both shoulders. “You’ve come all this way. You’ve done so well up to this point. Why throw it away now on some worthless man who can’t do anything for you?”

  “He’s not worthless,” Henny defended.

  “He is, Henny. He’ll never amount to anything. I know them when I see them.”

  “How? Because that’s all you ever get involved with?” Henny said, hearing more than enough of what her mother had to say. She was taking this too far. “I’m sorry that every man you ever chose to be with was a loser,” Henny continued, holding nothing back. “Including our father. Who knows why you always end up with that type. Maybe you just like getting fucked around by these men. But whatever the case, I’m thinking before you start trying to make decisions on how I run my life, maybe you need to get your own shit straight.”

  The last word wasn’t even completely out of Henny’s mouth before Livvy hit her across the face with a hard, loud smack that seemed to echo throughout the entire room.

  It burned like hell, and Henny knew as she stood there defiantly, staring hatefully into her mother’s eyes, her face was probably already turning red.

  Her mother didn’t do anything, just stared back, matching her daughter’s stillness, her silence, and Henny knew their conversation was over. She walked past her mother, opened the front door, and said, looking back, “I’m still seeing him, and there’s nothing you can do about it.” Then she slammed the door behind her as hard as she could.

  THIRTY-NINE

  TH
E NEXT day at work, Livvy tried busying herself with her responsibilities, but she couldn’t keep her mind on what she was doing. She thought about the argument she had last night with Henny, how it ended, her hand across her daughter’s face. She had never hit her before, never had to, but now … Livvy looked at the palm of her hand, still thought she felt the stinging there, still saw the reaction on her little girl’s face after the assault.

  Henny had to know what she was doing was a mistake, Livvy thought. And she would do whatever it took to make her aware of this, short of hitting her again. Livvy just hoped that she would have another opportunity, hoped that Henny wouldn’t entirely shut herself off to her mother, never want to speak to her again.

  Livvy was in the employee locker room now, and she was going for her jacket and purse. It was only a little after four, but she had told her supervisor that she wasn’t feeling well and had to go home sick. It was a lie, but only partly. She was ill, but not physically. It was the stress of everything that was happening recently—of her having to argue with her daughter, her having to go to that boy Rafe’s place and tell him never to see Henny again. And then it was the stress of looking down on that table in the hallway of that boarding house, and seeing that envelope.

  At first she just thought her eyes were playing tricks on her, but then she took a closer look and saw the name on the letter definitely said Wade Williams.

  After Rafe’s and her discussion ended, she said, “I’ll walk myself to the door.’ She figured he wasn’t going to offer anyway, and she wanted to get another look at that letter. It ended up in her purse, and since then she had looked at it a thousand times and called Wade at home twice. Both times she’d gotten his voice mail, but didn’t leave messages, because she really didn’t know what to say. This was something that she needed to discuss with him face to face.

  Only now, sitting in the locker room, her jacket on, her purse slung over her shoulder, did she sit down, the letter in her hand, and decide to tear it open. It was a phone bill. All the time she was carrying it with her, she was thinking that maybe there was just a mix-up over at Ameritech, or maybe there was more than one Wade Williams. There had to be. It wasn’t the most common name, but it was common enough.

  When Livvy pulled the billing statement from the envelope, saw the record of calls on the page, there was no longer any question as to who this Wade Williams was. She saw her phone number on that page at least a dozen times. She looked at the “minutes per call” column to the right, and saw how long he had been on the phone with her. There was the two-hour conversation that one night when she had her candles burning, and there was the one-minute conversation that Saturday morning when he had called just to say that he was thinking about her. How sweet, Livvy had thought at the time. But now …

  Every single time she’d spoken to him on the phone, when she thought he was standing in his ten-room home, complete with huge kitchen, family room, master bedroom, and three bathrooms, he was living in someone else’s home, renting a room, just like that loser Rafe. Only difference was, Rafe was still a kid, while Wade was almost fifty, and at least Henny knew how her man was living. Only now did Livvy have a clue as to what was going on with Wade, because that mother-fucker on countless occasions had sat there and lied to her face about where he was living. Then she started thinking that if he lied about where he lived, then he probably lied about a lot more: who he really was, what he did for a living, what he was making.

  Livvy stormed out of the locker room, the billing statement crumpled in her fist, as she made her way to the employee break room and the phone that allowed her to make outside calls.

  She had to talk to him, had to confirm all the lies she believed to be true. She grabbed the phone off the wall, put it to her ear, and was about to punch in his number when she realized her finger was trembling. Livvy thought she had finally found the right one, found someone who was paid. But those weren’t even the real reasons she liked him so much. It was because he was honest, caring, and affectionate, or at least she thought he was. Livvy knew that if she made this call, all the lies would be confirmed and the relationship would be over. Once again, she’d be alone.

  She thought of slipping that phone right back into its cradle and pretending she had never found that envelope, let everything fall into place however it would. Sure, she would always be looking at him oddly, waiting for the truth to come out his mouth, questioning everything else he said. But at least she’d still have a man. At least she wouldn’t be alone.

  She held the phone tightly in one sweat-covered hand, the finger of the other still poised to punch the buttons. She just couldn’t let him get away with lying to her like that, without at least letting him know that she caught up to his slithery ass.

  She dialed the number. His voice mail picked up again. She slammed the phone down, angry that she could not release her fury on him that moment. He was probably still at work, she thought. Then she looked down at the phone bill again.

  Livvy picked up the phone and started dialing random numbers. After hearing a few random voice mails, some unanswered rings, and the voice of an old man, wondering how he and Ace Hardware could help her today, she finally heard a woman ask, “Tanner Lincoln Mercury, how may I help you?”

  “Hi,” Livvy said. “Does Wade Williams work there?”

  “Yes, he does. Would you like for me to connect you?”

  “Uh, no. Can you tell me how late he’ll be there tonight?”

  “Just a minute,” the woman said, and a moment later, “nine o’clock.”

  “And your address?” Livvy took down the location the woman gave, and said, “Thank you very much.”

  LIVVY found the dealership half an hour later, parked her car, and entered the showroom, looking around for Wade. She saw no sight of him, but after wandering around on the showroom floor for a few minutes, a large white fellow wearing a sport jacket and slacks approached her.

  “Can I help you, miss?”

  “Yes, I’m looking for Wade Williams. Is he available?”

  “Hold on. Let me check, okay,” the man said. He turned and walked toward an office some fifty feet away, just off the showroom floor. He knocked on the door, stuck his head in, and afterward, walked back over to Livvy. “He’s in with a couple of customers, but he’s finishing up. Would you like to wait?”

  “Most definitely,” Livvy said. Then thought to herself, Most motherfucking definitely! “And could you tell me what position Mr. Williams holds here?”

  “He’s one of our preowned automobile associates.”

  “Ah, I see,” Livvy said, a fake smile glued to her face, while she felt herself burning from another lie he had told her. He said he was a dealership owner, when this fool was nothing but a used car salesman.

  “Would you like anything to drink?” the man asked. “Water, pop, coffee?”

  “No thank you,” Livvy said, trying to smile. He smiled back, and turned to walk away, when Livvy stopped him.

  “Is the coffee hot?”

  “Piping,” the big man said.

  “Okay. Give me the biggest cup you have.”

  “How would you like it?”

  “Doesn’t matter,” Livvy said, but when the man gave her an odd look, she said, “Oh, black. Black is fine.”

  The man came back with a big container of black coffee and handed it to Livvy.

  “Everything fine?” the man said.

  Livvy noticed the steam rising off the liquid. “Everything is perfect.”

  Livvy watched the man walk off and disappear down a hall. She waited a couple of moments and then started across the showroom floor, stepping between a Mercury Marquis and a Lincoln LS. She stopped just in front of the office Wade and his customers were in.

  Holding the still steaming cup of coffee in her left hand, she grabbed the doorknob with her right and asked herself if she was doing the right thing. No, it wasn’t necessarily right, she decided, but it felt right, and that was all that mattered.

 
; Livvy turned the knob and threw the door open. It banged hard against the back of the office wall, startling the young husband and wife sitting before Wade’s desk, as well as Wade himself.

  When he saw Livvy standing there, he looked as though his mind could not comprehend what his eyes were seeing. He shot up from behind his desk, and said in a shaky voice, “Livvy. What are you doing here?”

  “What am I doing here?” Livvy said, anger heavy in her voice.

  “Yes, that’s what I said. What are you doing here?”

  “Well, I wanted to talk to you about something, so I went to your house and you weren’t there.”

  “What do you mean, you went to my house?”

  “I went to your house, or, I’m sorry, I mean, your room, and you weren’t there.”

  Wade was starting to look sick.

  “But don’t worry. I did pick up your mail,” Livvy said, reaching into her jacket pocket with her free hand, and bringing out the wrinkled phone bill and dropping it down on his desk as proof that she really had been there.

  Wade’s widened at the sight of the bill, his name and address at the top. He gave Livvy a sorrow-filled look, then turned to his customers, smiling sheepishly in their faces.

  “I’m sorry folks,” Wade said, walking around the desk, trying to do damage control. “There’s been a little misunderstanding,” he said, extending an arm, touching Livvy on the shoulder. “But if you just give me five minutes,” he said to the baffled-looking couple, “I’ll be right back, and we can have you sign the papers, and be off in your car.”

  Wade tried to direct Livvy out the door, but Livvy pulled away from him.

  “No, you won’t be right back, and there hasn’t been a goggamn misunderstanding!”

  “Livvy, I wish you wouldn’t say that,” Wade whispered, as if his customers, not a foot away from him, couldn’t hear him.

  “And I wish you wouldn’t have lied to me, motherfucker.”

  “Let’s just step outside. We can talk about this,” Wade said, trying to calm Livvy down.

  “We can’t talk about this, Wade. Ever again,” Livvy said, then with her right hand, she reared back, slapped Wade across the face as hard as she could. It was a good one, landed flatly, and she knew it pained him, but he played it off as though it hadn’t even happened. Then he looked Livvy in the eyes and said in a calm voice, “Now Livvy, why don’t you just cool off.”