“Where is she? With her father?”
It’s easy for Vince to guess where DeSire is since he is the only man after Taij that I’ve went in depth with about my background. He knows that my mother died of Cancer when I was thirteen, that my father beat and molested me until I moved out at fifteen, and that, due to the way I “stole” Taij from Tricey, the only close friends that I have left is Tricey. Crystal and I aren’t close enough for her to ever baby-sit. Not that I would ask anyway. And Sugar, my other best friend, lives as hectic of a social life as I do, so I wouldn’t dare ask her to keep an eye on my one-year-old.
“Yep. She should be home this evening some time.”
Then Vince asked, “How was it seeing Taij?”
“Dark and gloomy,” I answered with a smirk.
Vince has the same impression that Tricey and Sugar have; that I’m not over Taij. I am over Taij, but the failed relationship may still hold some sadness in my heart. May or may not. I spend too much time working, being a single mother, and getting laid to really give a fuck.
Sam and I continued to text one anotheras Vince and I watched the movie. Whenever Vince was at a far enough distance that he couldn’t see the screen of my MDA, I was coordinating plans with Sam for later on this evening before DeSire returned home.
I don’t consider Sam one of my “hoes”. He thinks that we’re actually dating, but I don’t consider our bi-monthly dinners, outings, and then maybe sex as “dating”; especially when I have absolutely no feelings for him. I call him my fuck buddy. Yes, a fuck buddy and a hoe are two different things. Fuck buddies get to see the inside of my house, know a little more about my life, and I actually listen to what he’s saying.
I called Sam as soon as I climbed into my car.
“What’s up, baby?”
“Hey you,” I practically sang to him. “What’s up?”
“You and Tricey finished with your movie?”
“Yes, sir,” I answered flirtatiously.
“So you ready for me?”
“I sure am. Meet me at my place. I’ll be there in about twenty minutes.”
I actually look forward to hanging out with Sam. He was older; thirty-eight. Therefore, he was very seasoned compared to the guys that I usually associate with. He wasn’t physically my type; merely 5’9”, sort of chubby, and wore dreads and glasses. He’s a computer geek and a web designer for Soul Magazine, the internationally number one African-American publication. He’s also down to earth, kinda cute, with no kids, and has enough charisma to keep me interested in his conversation. When I first met him at a newsstand in downtown Chicago, my first impression of him was decent looking, mature, obviously well off guy, so said the fifteen hundred dollar watch he wore. Yet, I also felt that he was too short for me and way too geeky. Then a week later, he took me out to Benihana, fed me one too many drinks, and I found myself riding him in the back seat of his Bentley. The Bentley wasn’t my sexual motivation. It was the, measuring by eyesight only, eight and a half inch dick, with great width, that fell out of his pants that was the source of my inspiration.
As I approached the on-ramp for Lake Shore Drive, my earpiece began to sing to me. I glanced at my cell phone, saw that it was Sugar, and then turned down Jill Scott’s voice.
“What’s up, girl?”
“Hey, ma. How are you?”
“Great.”
“Great, huh?”
“Yes, ma’am. Just left Vince’s place, and now I am on my way to meet Sam at my place.”
“What do you guys have planned for the evening?”
“He’s just bringing over some Chinese for dinner.”
“So you all are going to eat, and then he’s going to eat you?”
I laughed, saying, “Maybe, maybe not. Surprisingly, it’s not all about sex with Sam, though I do appreciate the dick. But DeSire should be home soon, and I already gave Mike some the other day. A girl can only take so much.”
“Shit, you could have fooled me.”
“Whatever. So what’s been up with you? How is the married life treating you?”
Sugar isn’t legally married, but the way her girlfriend clocks her every move will make you think that they are lawfully attached by the hip. Sugar also left Champaign after graduation. She lives in the boonies; Rockford, Illinois. She got this great job offer from a high school out there and never looked back. She teaches English. That’s where she met Cassandra, her girlfriend, who teaches math at the same high school. They are both lesbians who love to sing their sexuality to the world. Cassandra loves Sugar to death, but she loves her too much. For the entire six months that they’ve been dating, she has been getting on Sugar’s last nerves with her constant nagging, possessiveness, and jealousy. Sugar doesn’t mind Cassandra’s behavior because she is trying to see if she can endure a relationship, since her pimp mentality was leading her into a very lonely adulthood.
She still cheats on Cassandra quite often, so she was never really able to put her pimp hand completely down.
“Fuck you. I am not married.”
“Might as well be.”
“Anyway,” Sugar said with a laugh. “Therelationship life is just fine, thank you. No fights, tears, or vents this week thus far.”
“That’s because it’s only Sunday.”
“You have a point,” she replied, continuing to laugh. “So when are we going to hang out?”
“Girl, anytime.”
“Yea right. You know I have to get penciled in just like every other dick in your life.”
“I treat you nothing like my dicks, sweetie. Though your lesbian ass wants to have a dick so badly, you don’t.”
“But I have plenty of them in my drawer. Shit, I wear a strap on so much that I might as well just keep it on and stand up when I pee.”
LYRIC
“Shit!”
I cursed as I heard the house alarm alert that the front door was opening. I nearly jumped out of my skin as I continued to curse and quickly grabbed my robe from the floor. Veronica scampered to find her skirt. Luckily, I hadn’t taken off her shirt and bra yet. However, I rushed to hide the toys and lubricants under the mattress.
Veronica cursed as she realized that she put her skirt on inside-out. “Damn it!”
I was in the mirror fixing my hair and wiping my face free of any of Veronica’s juices. Then I ran into the bathroom to wash my face and brush my teeth before Bradley could make it upstairs.
Veronica seemed to be in a much better mood than she’s been in for the last week or two. After Tricey talked to her in the kitchen during Bradley’s birthday party, she shaped right on up and hasn’t had a pout on her face since. That may be because I ran heavy damage control by asking her to spend the night Friday. Bradley was so drunk that he passed out in the bedroom, so Veronica and I made love in the living room. Bradley thought nothing of it when he woke up to see Veronica on the couch Saturday morning. She usually spends the night after we’ve hung out and she’s had too many drinks to drive home safely.
Then, this morning, I met her for breakfast and had her for lunch while Bradley was off with his boys playing basketball.
It’s obvious that I have to end the sexual aspect of me and Veronica’s relationship, since she has clearly become way too attached, but I still don’t know how I am going to end it. I have to prepare myself for letting her go and I only have two months to do it.
When I re-entered the bedroom, Veronica was dressed and sitting on the futon looking as if I hadn’t had my face in-between her legs and vice versa for the last hour. It sent chills down my spine when the memory of her riding my strap-on only twenty minutes ago came speeding through my mind.
“Are you hungry?”
She seemed to look longingly at my breasts that were barely revealed by the robe. I smiled and quickly kissed her lips as laughter came from downstairs. It sounded as if Bradley brought company home with him.
“A little,” Veronica finally answered.
“I want some pizza. Is that coo
l with you?”
“That’s fine.”
“Let me go see if Bradley wants some too. C’mon.”
Veronica and I trotted downstairs, and sure enough, Bradley had one of his barbers with him, Rick.
Rick kinda gets on my nerves. He’s a drug dealer gone legal to save face whenever the police come knocking. I hate the fact that Bradley hangs out with him, because I be damned if I get a collect call from jail because he has been caught up with any of Rick’s bullshit. Sometimes I wonder if they are so tight because Bradley actually dibbs and dabbs in the drug game. But the less I know, the better.
“Hey, baby,” I greeted Bradley as I approached him and kissed him on the lips.
“Hey, baby. What’s up?”
When Veronica sat next to Rick on the couch, his eyes went ballistic. Though I am sure he saw her at the party, Rick has never been formally introduced to Veronica.
“Rick, this is my friend, Veronica…”
Bradley jokingly interrupted me. “More like her other half.”
The irony in that statement gave me the bubble guts, but I continued, “Veronica, this is Rick, one of Bradley’s homeboys.”
As they greeted one another, Veronica acted like she didn’t even notice Rick looking as if he were imagining her sitting next to him butt naked.
Bradley took me by the hand and guided me to the kitchen. As we walked, he continued to hold my hand and pulled me close to him. I could hear Rick attempting to start conversation with Veronica, who was still being very distant.
I don’t really blame her. Rick and his Ebonics has to grow on you.
As soon as we were inside of the kitchen, Bradley picked me up and sat me on the counter top. Then he wrapped his arms around my waist and laid his head in my chest.
“Long day?”
He answered, “Long weekend.”
“Birthday celebration over?”
“Most definitely. I don’t need nan’ nother drink. I might sweat Patron for the next three days.”
“I’m glad you enjoyed yourself. Are you hungry? Veronica and I are ordering a pizza.”
“That’s fine, baby.”
Then my baby simply held me tighter around my waist and kissed my lips as if he’d waited all day to do so. Though I just experienced undeniable arousal just a few moments ago, it didn’t compare to the satisfaction and security that my man gives me. Sadly, though Bradley’s affect is always more effective than Veronica’s, I am stimulated by the two just the same.
FIVE
Thursday, November 20, 2008
VICTORIA
It’s been a very long day for me. I found Tiana, a freshman, crying in an empty hallway early this morning. It’s typical for freshmen to cry. It’s only November, so high school jitters have yet to disappear. However, Tiana’s cries were different. There was something about her sobs that told me that they were coming from a deeper place than nerves and anxiety, so I took her to my office and let her cry as I quietly checked emails. I just wanted to give her a place to vent without worrying about a rumor being attached to her tears by the end of the day. I didn’t pressure her to tell me what was wrong, because the answer would eventually come from her obvious need to talk to someone.
“I just miss my mother,” is what she told me after twenty minutes of her crying silently as Crystal and I sent emails back and forth about lunch.
“Miss her?”
“She died a month ago. She had a heart attack. She was here one day, and the next day she was gone. Now I’m suddenly living with my aunt, and I hate it.”
My heart immediately went out to her. My mother died of Cancer when I was in the seventh grade, so I felt Tiana’s pain. Back then, I was mad at the world and couldn’t understand why I was left alone at such an early age.
“I just haven’t had time to get over her death,” Tiana said.
“You’ll never get over it, but one day you’ll be able to live with it. One day you’ll be able to remember your mother without crying from the pain. One day there will be tears of joy.”
Tiana looked at me like what I was telling her was bullshit. At her age, I thought the same thing when Tricey and Lyric would tell me the same things. But eventually, after years and years of the sadness and depression of being a teenager without a mother and seemingly no one to replace her, I was able to think of my mother and smile rather than break down.
“Why do you hate living with your aunt?”
Tiana’s eyes literally rolled into the back of her head. I prayed it wasn’t for reasons similar to my own when I was forced to live with my father after my mother’s death. I lived with Jessie’s physical abuse for one year too many. When he got tired of punching and cursing me, he started feeling me up at night while I pretended to be sleep. The memories alone still nauseate me.
I miss my mother and wish my father was dead. Though I have never spoken a word to my father since I left his home when I was fifteen, his mere memory brings so much hate to the surface of my skin. I am sure the reason why I now refuse to get emotionally attached to a man is because the only two men that I’ve been emotionally attached to, my father and Taij, literally cut my heart out of my chest and ate it.
“She’s nothing like my mother,” is what Tiana simply answered.
“Does she abuse you?”
Immediately, Tiana frowned as if the mere notion was impossible. “I want to abuse her sometimes, but she doesn’t beat me. She’s just not my mother. Everything just happened so fast. Nobody asked me where I wanted to live or who I wanted to live with. This is all just too much to deal with.”
“I understand,” I told her.
And as many teenagers do, Tiana rolled her eyes like how dare I think I understand where she’s coming from.
“I do,” I assured her. “My mother passed away when I was in the seventh grade, so I know how you feel.”
That’s when Tiana’s demeanor changed from anger to compassion. It was as if she felt sorry for me because I actually was in her shoes.
“How did she die?”
“Cancer. After she died, I had to live with my father, and it was like living with the devil himself.”
“I’m so sorry.”
“I am too.”
Lunch couldn’t have come fast enough. I needed calories to soothe my anxiety. Tiana’s visit brought so many memories to the forefront; memories that I keep buried under piles and piles of bullshit in my brain.
After graduating from high school, I decided against going to DPU with Tricey and Lyric because it was too close to home. Though I no longer lived with Jessie, this city itself was a constant reminder of my mother, the beatings, the molestation, and the attempted suicide. I longed for the day that I could walk the streets of the neighborhood that I lived in without seeing anyone or anything that reminded me of my past.
Then I came back to Chicago and was forced to live with the memories all over again.
“Girl, what’s wrong with you?”
Crystal and I were sitting in my office eating salads. I have never told her about my past, so I opted to blame my sadness on what she felt was obvious. “Your lip.”
Crystal simply rolled her eyes at my answer.
When she walked into my office with an obviously busted lip, my anxiety got even worse. Though her husband’s abuse is her business, my blood pressure can’t help but to rise when I see obvious remnants of his abuse, especially when she waltzes in like it’s nothing.
However, I think her lack of acknowledging the bruises are a way of avoiding the shame that she would feel if she talked about it. I did the same thing when Jessie would beat the crap out of me. There was just too much embarrassment in talking about it with my friends and then going right back to the same house that the beatings were happening in.
“Girl,” Crystal said with a sigh, “I’m all right. We just had a fight. I started it…”
“We don’t even have to talk about it, Crystal. Obviously you don’t feel like talking about it, because if you did, you
would have mentioned it before now.”
I really wasn’t in the mood to hear some bullshit reason as to why, after yet another busted lip, she was staying with this trifling motherfucker. Granted, I made the same mistakes by constantly going back to someone who was beating the crap out of me, but I was fourteen/fifteen when I was making those dumb ass decisions- not twenty-eight.
LYRIC
“This is LyricCaldwell speaking. How may I help you?”
“Hey, it’s me.”
“Hey,” I greeted Veronica. “What’s up?”
“Nothing. Just calling to say hi. Are you busy?”
I wasn’t busy at all. Yesterday, I submitted the big grant that I have been working on for the past two weeks, so I was simply going over the details of me and Bradley’s wedding rehearsal in my locked office when Veronica’s call came in.
“Not that busy. Just sending out reminders for everyone to be at the church.”
“Church? Reminders for what?”
“The wedding rehearsal.”
And then there was silence.
“Hello?”
“I’m here,” Veronica told me in an obvious irritated tone. Suddenly, her tone changed from pleasant to cynical.
“What’s wrong with you?”
“Nothing,” she answered quickly.
Since she wanted to ignore it, I tried to as well. “So what are you doing?”
“Working. I actually have to go.”
Then I couldn’t ignore her attitude anymore. “No,” I immediately told her. “Don’t do that. Don’t act like that.”
“Act like what?”
“The attitude.”
“What attitude?”
Good Girls Ain't No Fun Boxed Set (The SIX romance and urban fiction volumes of the LOVE, SEX, LIES series) Page 8