Brothers and Wives

by Cydney Rax

  Fate is an amazing thing.

  I may not have gotten Neil, but I got the next best thing. And now I’m prepared to deal with everything that goes along with the preparation of officially being declared Mrs. Prescott Meadows.

  The next week, I go to my job as an executive administrative assistant at a pharmaceutical company in West Houston. I hold out my hand and smile at my coworkers. They gape, scream, hop out of their swivel chairs, and jump up and down with me in a circle.

  Then I ask Summer to cancel whatever she has going on and meet me for lunch and shopping. She says okay and I pick her up, and we drive on the north side to Willowbrook Mall. This mall is so substantial, it houses two Macy’s: One for women, and another one just for men and furniture.

  Summer and I park and begin a casual trek through the mall. Christmas is only a few weeks away; the flickering holiday lights, giant wreaths, and stringed decorations give the mall an enchanted and magical atmosphere. As we walk around admiring the scenery, I am nearly bursting inside with news about my engagement, but I decide to hold it in. Summer’s been traveling out of state lately, and I am dying to see the expression on her face when I share the good news.

  Today she is wearing an off-white cashmere sleeveless sweater and light brown slacks with four-inch pumps. She’s clutching the handle of a spiffy-looking Dooney & Bourke leather tote with a croc print, a bag so huge it’s nearly half her size.

  “Christmas must have come early for you.” I tease her, admiring her fancy new outfit and sophisticated bag.

  “Oh, girl, my honey Andre got me these things. And yep, you’re right, they’re an early Christmas present, with more on the way. I feel so lucky.” She sighs contentedly. I feel like I should let her enjoy her moment.

  But when we pass by a Waldenbooks, I grab Summer by the hand and drag her inside. I head straight for the videos and DVDs section. When I find what I’m searching for, I screech “Yeah” and snatch up a copy of one of my favorite films.

  “I’s getting married,” is the line I steal from The Color Purple to break the news to Summer. I wave the DVD at her, then my hand, and flash my engagement ring.

  “Oh, fuck! Oh, shit!” she screams. I laugh and hug her, and we rock back and forth on our heels for five minutes. “I can’t believe you held it in so long and didn’t tell me.”

  “I wanted to share this moment with you in person, not on the phone.”

  “Well, thanks. I appreciate that.”

  “You’re in the wedding. I know that much.”

  “I’d be honored, Dani. I’ve never been in a wedding before.”

  “That makes two of us.”

  We hug again, then browse a couple of jewelry stores to ogle other engagement rings and wedding bands. We simply enjoy ourselves on a chilly but pleasant December afternoon, talking about men and dreaming about the future.

  “What about you?” I ask. “How are things with you and Andre?”

  Andre and Summer have been dating for about six months. His eyes are wide and deep-set; his skin is golden brown like a delicious honey bun.

  “You know what, girl. I hate to say this and knock on all kinds of wood, but our sex life is getting better and better. And that’s strange, because at one point, it seemed to dwindle. I even got bored. It was routine and sucked, no pun intended.”

  “What changed things?”

  “I went out with another guy. Nothing serious. He’s my homeboy for real, and I don’t care for him in a romantic way, but when I decided to be honest with Andre and let him know my plans, girl, he straightened his ass up big-time. He called more, wanted to spend the night with me. And that’s when the freaky stuff really got started.”

  “Oh, do tell.”

  “Well, we’re very much into oral. Our lovemaking is three steps: foreplay, raw fucking, and pillow talk. When we stick to that, and throw in a little bit of surprises here and there, Andre always comes over on time.”

  “Mmm. Scottie and I have a pretty active sex life, too. It’s funny. We usually do it after we’ve eaten and my baby loves to grub. I like to tease him that he has so much cholesterol in his body, if you suck his dick you’d swear you were eating an omelet.”

  “Yeah, right, you wish you could eat an omelet.”

  “Oh Scottie’s body is delicious. Especially after he’s showered and shaved. His skin is so smooth it feels like velvet. I love our sex life. But I want to be like you and Andre. I want something to happen that gets his attention.”

  “What do you mean? Obviously something already did. He proposed!”

  “Yeah, but Neil told me it’s never too late to change my mind. That if I want to break off the engagement for any reason, I should, even if I have to pull an Eddie Murphy and dump Scottie two weeks after the wedding. Can you believe that?”

  “He can be a self-centered prick. Sorry, I know that’s your baby daddy and all, but jeez. Anyway, like I was saying, I had to do what it takes for my own relationship. And if going out on a casual date is what needed to change things, it was worth it. That’s when the guy seriously started to buy me really nice presents.”

  “Damn, so that did the trick, huh? The threat of another man? Even if it’s just a bone-headed friend?” I file that info in the back of my head.

  “Girl, these men are so territorial. Andre has his little blue toothbrush standing prominently in the toothbrush holder in my bathroom. He’s got his own drawer where we keep condoms, and K-Y Jelly, and …”

  “Okay, I get the picture.”

  Summer beams at me.

  “Things are about to change for us in a major way. I have big decisions to make.”

  “Both of you have decisions. Get used to including your man in these things.”

  “Right. It’s funny to dream of what you want and then when you get it …”

  “You don’t know what to do with it. You aren’t lying, girl. Now that I have a good, happy relationship with Andre, it’s like I’m looking over my shoulder, under my bed, to see if I’m forgetting anything.”

  “We women are so programmed to believe that we can’t have or deserve happiness that when we find it, we may feel guilty, or undeserving.”

  “Fuck that, Dani. I am going to enjoy my man for as long as I can. But I still gotta do what I gotta do to keep his ass on his toes.”

  “Girl, did I ever tell you this? Remember I told you how I heard LaNecia and her friend talking in the bathroom at Neil’s house? And I was so pissed because it sounded like I heard her plans for them to hook up with each other and have sex behind my back, all that?”

  “Yeah, whatever happened?”

  “A couple days after Scottie and I got engaged, I decided I couldn’t hold it in any longer, so I brought up the topic to him. I admitted I overheard that conversation.”

  “And what did he say?”

  “First, he told me I shouldn’t eavesdrop. Whatever, right?” I laugh. “But he said if I ever want to know something, I should immediately come to him no matter how awkward it makes me feel. Because what really happened is that LaNecia decided to get her horny ass some loving, and not with Scottie. It was with another guy, Summer! I heard wrong.”

  “Damn, that little girl is a mess. What was she trying to do, make Scottie jealous or something?”

  “That’s what she hoped would happen, but it backfired. And if that bitch keeps stepping into my territory, it’ll be time for me to fire back. I’m the one he put a ring on, and now it’s my job to make sure she doesn’t do anything to take my ring off.”

  — 17 —

  ANYA

  The Day I Turn Forty

  Damn,” Vette says to me. “It’s kind of weird that you’re going to help pick out supplies for your own party.” It’s one week before December twentieth, the day I turn forty. My birthday falls on a Saturday this year and I look forward to doing something special. Vette and I have just stepped out of my SUV and are walking into Party City, a discount superstore located off the Southwest Freeway in a busy part of
town near Joel Osteen’s famous church.

  I’ve decided that a casino night theme will work perfectly. At this point in my life, there’s no turning back. Life is like a gamble, and we’re going to be rolling some major dice next Saturday.

  “Vette, please. I don’t mind picking out decorations and party favors. It’s fun. Why wouldn’t I want to be involved?”

  “I know you’re not having a surprise party, but still … you’re taking the fun out of things.”

  “Don’t worry. I plan on having tons of fun. Thank you guys for letting me handle the invitation list. It’ll be interesting to see what happens.”

  Vette pulls out a shopping cart, and we breeze through the aisles until we locate the section that stocks casino party goods.

  “I’m so excited,” I exclaim. “I hardly know where to begin. Okay, I want the tablecloth with the black background, red dice, cards, and blue dollar signs bordered in green neon.” I tell her to throw that in the basket, plus the matching cups, some dice, casino money, a roulette wheel, and gold coins.

  “How about these flashing rubber dice that light up? That looks pretty cool.”

  “Yeah, get that, too. I plan on going all out.”

  We pore over Party City’s vast selection of tableware and then wait in line to pay. We’re about third in line with four more customers waiting behind us.

  “That clerk is so slow. Why would they only have one person at the register on a Saturday, two weeks before Christmas? That doesn’t make any sense.”

  “Who knows? It won’t do any good to complain,” I tell Vette. “Normally I cannot stand waiting in line, but you know what? I’m just glad to be alive. Not in jail. Not in the hospital.”

  “Not yet,” Vette reminds me. “When is surgery?”

  “Oh, I went ahead and scheduled it for next spring.”

  “Next spring? Why so long?”

  “Now that those lovebirds have set a date, I will go into the hospital after the wedding takes place. That way I know I’ll be physically strong enough to attend.”

  “Oh yeah. February fourteenth. It’ll all be over before they know it.”

  “Listen. When a man and woman get married, the day they say ‘I do’ is just the beginning.”

  There are some occasions people never forget. When I wake up in bed on December twentieth, the first thing I do is open my eyes and raise them to the ceiling.

  “Oh wow,” I say and shove Neil, who’s shaped in a lump, lying next to me in bed. “I can still see. No blurry vision. Check. Now, say something to me, Neil. Talk to me.”

  “Huh?” He rolls over and continues his loud snoring.

  “My hearing is fine. Check.”

  I inhale the air around me. The aroma of fried bacon, scrambled eggs, onions, and bell pepper fill my nose. “Mmm, my sense of smell is still excellent.”

  “Woman, you’re crazy.”

  “Not crazy. Happy.”

  I get out of bed and make my way downstairs.

  “What? Scottie’s cooking breakfast for me?”

  “You’re my favorite sister-in-law, and you deserve nothing but the best.”

  That’s how the remainder of the day goes; my phone rings off the hook with well wishes. My daughter hugs me and presents me with a card that she made out of fabric swatches, glue, poster board, and fashion magazine cutouts.

  Even little Brax closes both his eyes and belts out “Hap-py birdy to youuuu.”

  And hours later, when my official party gets into full swing and twenty-five people fill my house to eat, gamble, and celebrate with me, nobody can tell me a thing. Scottie’s playing groove after groove. Kool & the Gang, The Gap Band, and one of my favorites that I loved to dance to in the 80s—a time when guys told me I was a hot young thing—“Let the Music Play.”

  I dance and shake my butt till my hair goes from neat and stylish to slick and stringy. Strands get stuck to the side of my face from the sweat rising from my skin. I energetically fan my face and tell my guests, “I’ve been dancing ever since Scottie’s been deejaying. I gotta sit down. I may not be old as dirt, but I still need to catch my breath.” Neil’s popping his fingers and moving his neck around like he’s about to have a seizure. I wave at him as I walk away to take a seat on the couch.

  “Go on and sit down, Ms. Anya,” says Riley Dobson. “As a matter of fact, save me a seat right next to you. I’m worn out myself, hon.”

  “C’mon, Riley. It’s been a minute since we’ve had a real good chat anyway.”

  Even though Riley lives next door and we frequently wave to each other in passing, I rarely make time to bond with her like I ought, so it does feel good to spend time with her for a change.

  “Mmm, hmm! I hope I look as good as you when I turn the big 4-0,” Riley says, her long chandelier earrings dangling and sounding like wind chimes. “Of course, I hope to have a hubby by then. I sure don’t want to grow old by myself much longer. I heard about Dani, too. I’m glad for her. She needs to settle down.”

  “Tell me about it.” I nod. “Who woulda thought she’d be my sister-in-law one day?”

  “Ha, God works in mysterious ways, I know that much. ’Cause first of all, when I heard Scottie was back in town, and I saw him at the family reunion, then I saw her checking him out, hon, I smelled trouble on the horizon just like I can detect a cup of Starbucks a mile away.”

  “So are you saying you can look at them and tell that a divorce is in their future?”

  “I won’t go as far as to say all that, but Dani is a special kind of woman. She doesn’t think like a normal chick.”

  “What makes you say that?”

  “What makes me say that? You know it as well as me.”

  Then a romantic love song comes on that I haven’t heard in years. But I know Whitney Houston’s voice the second I hear it. She’s singing a pretty, melodic song from The Preacher’s Wife sound track, “My Heart is Calling.”

  Neil looks expectantly at me, but I shake my head no. My feet are hurting and I’m still trying to listen to Riley. He grimaces, spots Dani sitting alone in a corner, goes and takes her by the hand, and they start dancing. Even though it’s a midtempo song, almost a ballad, he doesn’t dare put his arms around her. They’re just standing in front of each other; she’s leaning in listening to him talk.

  “It’s like some women are so similar that they get along without much effort. They’re cut from the same cloth, think the same way, and share the same values. Then other females … Lord have mercy. Nothing you do can make them get along. They just don’t mix, don’t click, and will never understand each other. They can barely stand to be in the same room together.”

  “Hmm, you’re right,” I say to Riley while staring at the way Neil looks into Dani’s eyes. His hands aren’t on her, but they might as well be. I feel my cheeks warm up, but I have too much pride to act like I care. So I giggle and nod at Riley even though the woman hasn’t said anything worth laughing about.

  “What does he think he’s doing?”

  “Huh, what?”

  “Your hubby, that’s what. Why don’t you go up there and interrupt? This is your day, Anya.”

  “Oh, I’m not worried about that. I mean, I am looking right at him. He’d be a fool to try anything right in front of my face. Neil isn’t that crazy.”

  “But Dani is.”

  “I–I can’t appear insecure, Riley.”

  “Well, everybody’s looking, so … they’re expecting you to do something.”

  “I’ll give it another minute. I know my husband loves me.”

  “Love doesn’t stop men from having affairs does it?”

  “Riley, shhh. Let’s change the subject.”

  “Oh, don’t get me wrong. I’m not angry. He’s not my man. But if he were, he’d be wearing that whole bowl of fruit punch right about now. I’m just saying.”

  “You’re sweet to care, but he and I have been married a long time. You have to pick your fights, and you definitely shouldn’t air your dirt
y laundry in front of other people. I try not to roll like that.”

  “Why is it that you have to act so demure and mature and all the other fancy words and, on top of that, feel too embarrassed to make a scene, but the woman who should be ashamed isn’t?”

  “It’s because of what you said. Dani and I are two different women. And I don’t care what you say, I doubt that God meant for every woman to act exactly alike.”

  By the time I get those words out of my mouth, Dani prances over my way, smiling and waving at Riley. Riley waves back likes she’s so excited to see Dani. She grins like the girl is her BFF. I want to throw up, but I manage to hold in my nachos and guacamole.

  “Hello, ladies. I was just telling Neil that if I can reach my fortieth birthday and still be married to the same man, I’ll give up having sex for an entire week. Wouldn’t that be a miracle?”

  “I don’t know which is more bizarre. You being married, or you not opening your legs….”

  “Riley, hush, why don’t you go pour me another glass of punch? I want to talk to Dani in private. Go on, go.”

  I shake my head as Riley scurries toward the kitchen.

  “I want some of what Riley was drinking,” I say quietly.

  “Are you talking to yourself?” Dani asks.

  “No, I was talking to you. Now have a seat,” I tell her, and I actually feel much more relaxed than I thought I’d be feeling. What is that peace due to? Is it because Dani can’t be as big a fool as she’s perceived to be? After all, her soon-to-be-husband is in the same room with us. Dani isn’t crazy. Flirty? Yes. Whorish? Sometimes. So I will give the girl the benefit of the doubt.

  “What do you want to talk to me about? I hope you’re enjoying your party. I’ve had a ball playing roulette and that slot machine is off the chain.”

  Dani’s referring to a poker slot machine we’ve rented for the weekend. Most people who start playing the machine stay on for hours. Maybe I can lure Dani back to the machine in a few minutes.

  “I’m good, Dani. Thanks for asking but enough about me. If you want to get to where I am, you’re going to have to put in a lot of work. I feel kind of weird talking to you about these things.” Why should I give this hussy tips on how to make her relationship last? Maybe it’s because I feel if she’s truly happy with Scottie, she won’t ever want Neil again.