“So, we meet again.” He gave me a sinister grin. “This is a nice house,” he said as he looked around the large gourmet kitchen fit for a king and his queen. “This would’ve been a perfect house for us—but, no, you had to go and marry that prick husband of yours. Did he ever tell you that he and I have bumped into each other?” He smirked.
I couldn’t believe what he was saying. He met Steve? When? Where? Did Steve already know about the relationship that I had with Lance? Was he keeping it to himself until I told him?
I didn’t believe what Lance was saying. Maybe he was just trying to scare me.
“How do you know my husband?” I glared at him.
“Don’t worry your pretty little self about how your husband and I know each other. Just know that we have met on many different occasions. But enough about him. By the way, you are looking good since you lost all that extra fat that you were carrying around. I put this meeting together so I could tell you that . . . and if you don’t get your act together, I’m going to have to tell your husband that you and I are still sleeping together.”
“That’s a lie, and you know it. My husband’s not going believe a liar like you,” I spat.
“Shut up,” he said and smacked me hard across my face. My face flung to the right due to the force of the blow.
How did I get myself in this situation? All I did was care about him while we were in a relationship; then I broke it off with him because I wanted to move on. Yet, there he was, torturing me every chance he got.
“What do you want from me?” I cried out.
“You know what? That is a damn good question. I don’t want you because you’re a whore, and you can’t be trusted. I trusted you, and you were playing me like a sucker. I never would have thought that you would get back with your ex after he got out of jail. I thought our bond was strong, and you let that dude interfere with what we had going on like I was nothing to you. I just want to . . . um . . . make your life a living hell.” He gave me another sinister grin. He was still holding on to the knife.
“Lance, I cared for you too. It was hard to break the news to you. But I rekindled the relationship with him because we have a child together, and my daughter really needs her father in her life,” I pleaded.
“Didn’t I tell you to shut up?” He smacked me across my face again. That time, I lost my balance and fell to the floor. “I didn’t tell you to talk, and I didn’t tell you to bring up that lame-ass dude in our conversation. You’re just using your kids as scapegoats. You really don’t care about them kids. You were never there for them; you were always with me. You always left them alone and let them fend for themselves. You are so full of shit, and I don’t want to even look at you any longer.” He was enraged.
His face was dark with fury, as if he was about to lose it. He came toward me with the knife and lifted it. I screamed out in fear. I knew he was about to kill me, but then, I heard a loud thump, and Lance moaned out in pain. I opened my eyes as he fell to the floor, and that’s when I saw Steve standing over Lance holding a large cast-iron skillet that he used to hit Lance over the head with.
“Steve! Oh my God! He was trying to kill me,” I shouted as I got up and hugged him. He hugged me for a quick second. I could tell he was also pretty shaken up from what had just happened. I wondered how in the world he knew where I was. But however he knew, I was glad he did because he’d saved my life. Lance was crazy, and I wished I would’ve known that before I got too close to him because I would’ve cut him loose a long time ago.
After Steve released himself from our embrace, he got down on his knees to check Lance’s pulse. His body was still, and at that moment, I realized that he had not moved at all after he fell to the ground.
“Oh, no. Is he dead?” I asked as I shook my head. My body was soaked from perspiration. Lance was a small man, and his size didn’t compare to Steve’s bodybuilder, muscular frame at all.
Steve looked at me with sorrow in his eyes and said, “Yes.”
43
Sasha
I still couldn’t believe that fool had me smoking weed laced with crack cocaine. And at that very moment, I sat in my home and thought about how I felt when I hit the joint. I kinda knew something wasn’t right, but I just thought it was me because I hadn’t smoked in a long time. Besides, I had heard people talk about how potent the good weed could be. I never in a million years thought I was smoking that shit that could get me hooked. I needed to make sure I kept my mind at ease because I didn’t want to be looking for a dealer to give me more of the drug. I was definitely done with Lamel. I was partying way too hard and doing way too much. Did we even use protection last night? I shook my head. What the hell was wrong with me? I was acting like a high school girl with no responsibilities. I had to get myself together before I lost it. I had too much going on for me to let a man bring me down with partying, sex, and drugs.
I was going to start planning for my book launch party, and I wanted it to be fabulous. I was a new author, coming out with the heat, and I wanted to make sure all my ducks were in a row. I didn’t want to half step nothing. I knew I was under a publishing company, but I knew I still had to grind and find my audience. I knew that I had to still promote and grind because nobody was going to put my work out like I would. I wasn’t playing when I said that I wanted my book to be on the big screen one day. But for that to happen, I had to get out and get noticed for the work that I did.
There was a lot of stuff going on, though. Melody had called me and told me that Rodney had gotten shot, but she thought he would pull through. But then she called back about a week later and said that he had passed away. I had gone over to her house the night before the funeral, and she was a mess. I felt so sorry for her and the baby that she was keeping a secret. But I really felt bad for Rayn. Melody wasn’t giving that child the time and love that she needed because she was busy grieving Rodney. I knew how it felt not to have a parent there to show affection. I just hoped that Melody got it together soon before her daughter suffered from what was going on.
When I went over, Rayn answered the door because Melody was closed up in her dark bedroom. I tried to make small talk with Rayn, but she didn’t want to talk. She looked depressed and sad. I told her that if she needed anything that she could call me anytime. She didn’t say a word; she just nodded her head.
When I opened up Melody’s bedroom door, she was slouched down in her bed, wrapped in her housecoat, staring at the wall. When we talked, she sounded as if she was struggling to say her words. She was weak, her eyes were red and puffy, and her hair was matted to her head. I could smell the stench from her breath from where I sat on her bed. I told her that she really needed to get up and tend to her daughter. But instead of answering me with words, she moaned. I was really concerned with her well-being. I was going to have to do something about it, and the only thing I could think about doing that would help was to call her mother and tell her to come down here and stay with her. My aunt always knew how to bring a person out of the slumps. She was heavily religious, and she would pray all your pain away.
“Come on, Melody, you need to get up. Let me make you something to eat,” I said as I pulled open her curtains to let the sunlight lighten up her gloomy room.
“I’m not hungry.”
“Well, that baby is. As a matter of fact, when do you go to the doctor? I’ll go with you.”
“I don’t know,” she said and pulled the covers over her head.
I tried so hard, but she wouldn’t get out of the bed. I made her and Rayn a pot of spaghetti; then I left. But as I walked to my car, I called my aunt to tell her that she needed to come and see about her daughter. When I got a hold of her, she had some disturbing news for me.
“Sasha, I was just about to call you,” my aunt said in a panic.
“What’s up, Auntie?” I said nervously because her voice didn’t sound right.
“Your mother’s in the hospital.”
“What happened to her? Is she going to be
all right?” I cried out. I pulled over onto the side of the road. I was thinking the worst, and I didn’t want to be the one to cause an accident.
“She’ll make it. She ran in front of a car, and the car hit her. She broke one of her ribs and one of her legs.”
“She ran in front of a car? Why? What was going on?”
“She said someone was chasing her, but there were witnesses out there when it happened, and they said that she was not being chased by anyone. I don’t know why she would do that. We are all baffled,” my aunt said.
“Well, tell her I’m on my way up there. I’ll be there in about an hour.” I hung up before she could say another word, swerved my car back on the road, and headed to Michigan.
* * *
When I got to the hospital, my mother was happy to see me. But I was sad to see her all banged up and bruised because I had a feeling I knew the reason why she was the way she was.
“Hi, Mom.” I walked up to her and kissed her on the cheek. I didn’t want to hug her because I didn’t want to hurt her.
“Hey, sweetie.” She gave me a half smile. She looked so uncomfortable. Her face was swollen, and her body was all bandaged up.
“Mom, tell me what happened.” I sat on the edge of her bed and looked into her eyes.
“I don’t remember. I don’t remember how I got hit by that car.” She was short with her words. She kept batting her eyes as if she was falling asleep. The nurse had told me that they had just given her some pain medicine.
“The nurse told me that there were people outside when the accident occurred. They said that they watched you as you ran down the block. They said that it seemed that you were running from someone and screaming, telling them to leave you alone. But there was no one following.”
“I said I don’t remember,” she spat out in anger. We were silent for a while. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to scream at you. It seems like I’m losing my mind. First, you told me about the horrible things I did to you as a child; then I get fired from job after job because my employers think I’m crazy, and now—this. I’m sitting in the hospital and can’t remember a damn thang.” Tears rolled down her cheeks. “I’m just so tired.”
“Mom, I think that doctor you talked to in the past was telling you the truth. You may be schizophrenic. Please, can you get a second opinion? I don’t want anything like this to happen to you again.” I took her hand and cuffed it in mine.
She nodded her head as she wiped her eyes with the Kleenex I gave her. We talked for a while, and I was stunned that she didn’t fall asleep because she looked so tired. She asked me what was going on in my love life. I told her that I had just gotten out of a relationship. She wanted to hear more, so I told her about how Lamel and I got down. Well, I didn’t go over all the details, but when I was done talking to her, she responded by saying that every woman needed a young man that liked to be spontaneous and carefree. Every woman needed a young man to bring excitement to the relationship. She was so giddy when we talked about my relationship. She said she hadn’t been in a relationship in years because men didn’t understand her.
While I was sitting and talking to my mother, I couldn’t help but to think about the irritation and burning feeling I was getting whenever I urinated now. I was thinking that since I was here in the hospital, I should walk down to the ER and get checked out. I figured it was just a bacterial infection. I was very sensitive and seemed to always contract infections.
* * *
After my mom finished her dinner, she told me to turn on the news. She never missed the news or Wheel of Fortune. When I flipped through the channels, I was shocked to see the news broadcaster talking about a death on the west side of Toledo. There was always stuff going on and people killing people. But I was shocked because Asia and Steve were talking on the news about some lunatic that was stalking Asia.
They said that Steve killed a man in self-defense. Asia held her head low and never looked into the camera. The only way people watching knew it was her was because her name was on the bottom of the screen. I couldn’t believe my ears. Steve killed someone? Wow. Someone was stalking Asia! Then, the deceased’s mug shot was up on the screen. That face looked familiar, but I couldn’t remember where I’d seen him. I squinted my eyes to focus and thought a little harder.
“Oh my God!” I gasped. That’s the man that I saw kissing Asia’s husband, Steve, in the parking lot at their wedding.
44
Melody
I lay in bed, contemplating my next move. I didn’t have the energy to move, but I knew that I had to do something because I had a daughter and a baby growing inside me that needed me. Sasha had made Rayn and me spaghetti, and she stayed awhile, preaching to me about how I needed to get out of my room and tend to my daughter. She was right, but I couldn’t stop crying, and my heart wouldn’t stop aching from the pain and emptiness I felt knowing that Rodney was never coming back to me.
I kept having flashbacks of us together. I thought about the times I would go to the YMCA and watch him play basketball with his boys. I loved to see his sexy, sweaty, muscular body dribbling the ball down the court before shooting a three-pointer, and then looking over at me and smiling. I would be on the bleachers cheering him on.
I reminisced about the times we went to the club together and how he would nibble on my ear and whisper sweet nothings in it. I remembered the times we would go out to eat at fancy restaurants, and he would order food that I thought I wouldn’t like. I would tell him I wasn’t going to eat it; then he would feed it to me, and I would fall in love with the entrée like I fell in love with him the very first time I tasted his lips.
Images flooded my mind of all the great sex we had. My body melted every time I felt him inside of me. He was always so gentle with me. He yearned to make me feel good, and he pleased me every time. He always made me feel sexy. I was in heaven when he touched me, and his caring hugs would uplift me out of any bad situation I was going through at that time. Oh, how I wished he could embrace me in his arms now. I was going to miss the texts I would get from him every day. He would text me good morning in the a.m. and good night when he knew I was on my way to bed—even if he was out late gambling.
I pulled out my photo album that I’d made just for Rodney and me. In all the pictures, we looked so in love and happy. As I flipped through the book, I saw the pictures of us at Cedar Point. I had a fear of riding roller coasters, but I got on the Magnum anyway—and I got sick to my stomach, and we had to leave early. He wasn’t mad that we had to cut our fun date short; he just wanted to make sure I felt better.
I turned the page and saw a photo of us with my aunt, mother, and Rayn together at this soul food restaurant. We were there, celebrating Rodney and Ryan’s birthday, which was on the same day. We had taken a dozen pictures at the club that I had kept for memory’s sake. Now, that’s all he is to me.
A memory.
Rodney was my better half; he was the one that I was going to marry. Yes, we had our ups and downs, but I knew that one day, he would come around and see that I was the one that he needed in his life forever. He introduced me to so many things in life. We talked about everything. We comforted each other when needed. I could be myself around him. We laughed, and we cried together.
There were some things that I just didn’t understand about him, but maybe it wasn’t meant for me to understand. No one was perfect; we both had things that we needed to work on. But now that he was gone, I wished that I could have at least said good-bye to him. I wished I could have hugged him one last time. And the fact that I didn’t was eating me alive. I was mad at my beautician for not getting me out of the salon on time to see him one last time. But I was also mad at Rodney for leaving me in this world alone and heartbroken.
Before Sasha left, she turned on the radio since I lied and told her I couldn’t find the remote for my TV. Jennifer Hudson belted out the lyrics to “Where You At?” “You said you’d be there for me.” With each verse, I felt a connection with the song.
That song represented what Rodney and I had and what he told me on a daily basis. I was pacing the floor, listening to the song. My emotions were all fucked up, and I was on my way to the radio to turn it off when Jennifer sang, “You said you’d be there for me boy when the tough got going.”
“Rodney, why . . . Why did you have to be there at that club? Rodney, why didn’t you sit yo’ ass down like the doctors told you to? Why . . . why . . . why!” I shouted out until my voice went hoarse. I knew my neighbors heard me, but I didn’t care. My knees became weak, and I fell to the floor and cried my brains out.
After the song went off, I didn’t have the energy to walk to the bathroom that was only about three feet from where I sat, so I crawled on my hands and knees, and once I entered, I lifted my butt to the toilet seat. Weakly, I turned to look in the medicine cabinet to find some pain pills to knock the headache out that I had. I didn’t see anything that would help my agony, but then, I looked on the basin of the sink, and I saw the razor blade that I had used to arch my eyebrows.
I picked it up and looked at it for a moment. The sharpness of it and how it shined under the light gave me a high of some sort. Maybe that was just what I needed. Pain pills wouldn’t have lasted long enough, but in my mind, at that very moment, that blade would take me out of my misery. I placed the blade diagonally against my thin wrist and stared at all the veins that popped out at me. I then closed my eyes.
My mind was blank, and I wasn’t thinking about anyone. Not Rayn, not my unborn child, and not my family. My hand shook unsteadily as I pressed the blade into my skin. And that was when I heard a cry. “Mom!” I opened my eyes quickly, and there was Rayn, standing in the doorway of the bathroom with tear-filled eyes. She had her hand up to her mouth in shock.
I immediately dropped the blade, which fell into the sink. That’s when I saw the blood on my skin. I gasped out from the sight, but then I called out for Rayn. “Baby, please . . . I . . . I . . .” I stuttered as Rayn ran out of the bathroom. I didn’t know what to say. I couldn’t believe that my daughter had seen me in that state of mind.
No Perfect Affair Page 19