Good Girls Ain't No Fun Boxed Set (The SIX romance and urban fiction volumes of the LOVE, SEX, LIES series)

by Jessica Watkins

  He seemed to wince in pain as he looked at Lyric longingly. “Are you serious?”

  Veronica snapped, “Very serious!”

  Lyric turned towards Veronica with pleading eyes that begged her to just shut up, to please stop the blows before she killed what might be left of what Bradley feels for her. I believe the shock of Veronica’s deceit made Lyric speechless. It indeed had me speechless as I watched from the side as Lyric struggled with shock and confusion while not knowing what was the best thing to do or say.

  Bradley’s eyes also pleaded with Lyric, begging her to say that it wasn’t true, and seemingly begging her to at least lie to him to make him feel better.

  Then he simply walked away; slow and steady down the steps with his head low.

  Lyric didn’t follow. She looked so guilty. I believe that she felt so guilty for being so dishonest to that loving man that she knew that she didn’t deserve him, so she didn’t even fight to keep him.

  VICTORIA

  There was a visual on the campus of Kraton High this evening for Delilah, given by her class. There were about two hundred students, faculty, and parents that stood with candles as they prayed for her soul and for the souls of the youth that were both fortunate to still have life and unfortunate to be forced to continue the struggle of surviving in this city.

  Crystal and I stood closely by one another. Crystal literally had to hold me up as my tears flowed from my eyes like a treacherous river. There was such an eerie feeling over me. I couldn’t understand why God would allow someone to take a life that desperately looked forward to experiencing better days.

  Pastor Spencer, an English teacher on staff at Kraton High, spoke to the crowd. He spoke of salvation, giving our lives to Christ, loving thy neighbor, and other foundations of faith and the cease of violence. It was so hard for me to embrace his words because my heart felt so violated and betrayed by faith in every region of my life.

  But then again, who was I to feel deceived by faith when I had given all but God the chance to fix me.

  Nineteen

  Saturday, December 13, 2008

  VICTORIA

  The next morning the doorbell woke me up.

  It was ten o’clock on a Saturday, and by the grace of God, my one-year-old was still asleep, so who so ever it was better have a strong undeniable resemblance to Jesus.

  After I walked into the living room in a tank, boy shorts, and head scarf that kept my carefully wrapped hair in place, I peered out of the window and recognized Tricey’s cherry red Chrysler in my driveway. I figured something had to be wrong since she never comes over unannounced in this new-age of cell phones and text messaging.

  I opened the door without a word, and there Tricey stood looking all too annoyed and messy.

  “Hey, girl,” Tricey said with a yawn. “I would have called you, but I knew you wouldn’t answer this early on the weekend.”

  “What’s going on?”

  We walked into the living room and sat closely by one another.

  “Giiiirl,” Tricey growled. “You would never believe what happened.”

  I asked anxiously, “What?”

  “So you know yesterday was Lyric’s wedding rehearsal, right?”

  I simply nodded.

  “Did I ever tell you that she ended things with Veronica?”

  “You told me, but not in a lot of detail.”

  “Well, yes, she did. Veronica doesn’t like it. She’s be calling Lyric back to back, but Lyric refuses to talk to her.”

  “So last night, Lyric and I are pulling up to the church, and we see Veronica and Bradley standing on the steps having a heated conversation.”

  “Shut up.”

  “Girl, this heifer told Bradley the truth about her and Lyric.”

  “Shut up!”

  “Yes,” she swore.

  “So Bradley believed Veronica?”

  “Lyric didn’t even bother to deny it.”

  “So they aren’t getting married?!”

  Tricey shrugged her shoulders in disbelief, as if she was still shell shocked from what happened.

  “He just walked away,” she answered. “Lyric didn’t even bother to stop him. Then Veronica just left with no words, and Lyric didn’t say anything to her- nothing. I sat next to her on the steps, and she didn’t say anything. There were no more tears or words. She just stared into space for a long time. Then I had to make her hurry up and leave before folks started coming for the wedding rehearsal and she was forced to explain herself.”

  “So what is she going to do? What did she say?”

  “I drove her home, but when we got to their house, Bradley had some of her belongings in the lawn with a note on them telling her that if she had any sense, she would not use her key.”

  I cringed as if the words were meant for me.

  “That’s when she broke down. I mean down; crying, screaming, snotting, and hyperventilating- the whole nine.”

  “Where is she?”

  “At my house. I was up all night with her because she couldn’t sleep and couldn’t stop crying, which means that I couldn’t get any sleep either,” Tricey answered. “I just wish you could have been there. She needs so much support right now. She is dying inside; literally.”

  “I can’t believe that heifer turned state’s evidence like that,” I said.

  “Exactly! No sooner than Lyric comes up for air, her first thought is going to be how she is going to kill Veronica, and the second will be how she can get away with it.”

  Crystal caught our attention as she walked into the living room carrying a duffle bag in one hand while rolling a suitcase with the other.

  She smiled as she greeted Tricey, and Tricey returned the gesture.

  I asked her jokingly, “You goin’ on a trip?”

  With a long and satisfying sigh, she answered, “I’m going home.”

  Then she seemed to pause and wait for my approval.

  “Don’t look for me to say yay or nay,” I told her.

  “I’m not,” she lied.

  “When did you decide that you were going home?”

  “Last night. Delilah’s death put so many things into perceptive for me. Life is too short to focus on the drama and the pain. My happiness with Sean outweighs the bad. That’s my husband and I love him. No matter the bad, I love him. He completes me. I feel like a part of me is missing the longer we’re separated.”

  Both Tricey and I looked at her in jealously of the unconditional love that spilled from her. As she spoke, I wondered if I made a mistake by never returning to Taij. I wondered if I should have given him a chance despite his infidelity. Some women are so quick to think that they are such fools for allowing a man to go unpunished for his wrong doings, but the separation from the other half seemingly punishes the woman more than anyone else.

  Despite Sean’s actions, I saw so much pure happiness in Crystal just knowing that she was going home to her man.

  I must admit, I miss that feeling.

  “So,” she said as she rested on the arm of the couch. “Did you call Vince back like I told you to?”

  Tricey asked with excitement, “Vince called?”

  “Last night,” Crystal answered for me.

  Tricey asked me, “Why didn’t you talk to him?”

  “Because he was only calling because of Delilah. It wasn’t for me.”

  “Tragedy brings out compassion in people,” Tricey replied.

  “He hasn’t been calling, so he shouldn’t start now.”

  “You are such a bitch,” Crystal cursed me.

  Tricey laughed while saying, “You didn’t know that already?”

  “Whatever,” I replied.

  “Okay. Keep on with this routine and you are going to be one lonely heifer,” Crystal told me. “Stop punishing yourself for what Taij did. Is Taij missing out on any love because of what he did to you? Is he tearing himself up and ridding himself of all happiness? Hell no!”

  “Do I look unhappy as I share my tales o
f lust?” Then I laughed devilishly.

  “Its momentary happiness,” Crystal corrected me. “Temporary contentment that goes away no sooner than that dick gets up from on top of you.”

  Finally, I accepted the reality of her truth and wallowed in self-pity.

  Tricey added, “Vince likes you and you enjoy him. Trust in that joy.”

  I figured that the only way I could get Tricey and Crystal off my back, and to keep from continuing to look like a total idiot, was to give into their commands and call Vince.

  However, to call him in order to have such an important conversation was very juvenile, so I waited until I was outside of his home watching his car sit in the driveway to call.

  “Hello.”

  Just hearing his voice after so long gave me feelings of bliss that scared the shit out of me.

  “Hi,” I replied. “Can you come outside so we can talk?”

  “Sure.”

  I hung up the phone and glanced in the mirror quickly. I simply washed my face, brushed my teeth, slipped on a pair of jeans, and combed my hair down before driving here. Doing anything more would have given me time to contemplate and recant.

  Vince emerged from the house in a leather coat, jogging pants, and house shoes walking fast to beat the biting twenty-five degree cold.

  As soon as he got in the car and his familiar smell came over me, I felt so idiotic for dismissing this man because of a boy’s actions.

  All I could do was smile at him. He didn’t return my smile, but he didn’t shun me either. He simply looked at me; wondering, anticipating, and contemplating.

  “I didn’t call you back last night because I needed time to think,” I told him. “I couldn’t, and still can’t, find the words to say to you.”

  Without looking at me, he told me, “Just say what you feel.”

  “I’m sorry for the way that I talked to you. That was rude and you didn’t deserve that.”

  “I apologize as well.”

  The way he couldn’t look at me gave me proof that what Vince feels for me is real. He seemed to be ashamed of my stupidity, rather than selfishly pissed at me for not loving him. I appreciated that so much that I wanted to give him back the same unrestricted selflessness.

  “I don’t like the distance between us,” I spoke. “I miss you, but it hurts me to be around you knowing that I don’t want the same things that you want. You want a relationship when I’m simply not ready emotionally.”

  “You’re so stubborn,” he tsked.

  “I’m not being stubborn,” I declared whole-heartedly. “I have been so hurt by love that my heart rejects that feeling. I hate it. Do you know how it feels to hate love?”

  Vince looked at me like I was a sadist.

  “This emptiness in me is bigger than Taij. It’s bigger than you. It consumes me, and I need more than another relationship to fix it. I know that you care about me…”

  “I love you,” he corrected me.

  “But I can’t love you until I love myself.”

  TRICEY

  Amiel was sitting in front of my building when I pulled up at about eight o’clock this evening.

  Admittedly, I took my time getting out of the car. My mind was flooded with worries, wonder, and desire. My heart was having a fight with my common sense. I knew the smart thing to do and say, but his absence had only made my lust and the need of a familiar voice and touch grow founder.

  “What are you doing here, Amiel?”

  He seemed hurt that my words for him weren’t softer.

  When it took him too long to answer, I repeated myself with more force. “What are you doing here?”

  “I wanted to see you,” he answered. “Why haven’t you called?”

  “Because I said all that I had to say the last time we talked.”

  He seemed to be so frustrated that he wanted to kick the air like a small child.

  “Tricey, what do you want me to do? You want me to just up and leave her? Leave her with nothing? Put myself in the position to be raped financially?”

  “I want you to do whatever you want to do,” I answered. “But please understand that I do not have to accept it.”

  My sudden ability to stand up to his decision made him stagger.

  “If you want to breast feed Bridget for the rest of your life, then, by all means, proceed,” I told him. “But know that that only shows me that you do not love me. If you loved me, all the excuses you pull out of your ass would not exist. That is what I believe, and since I don’t try to make you change your views on love, don’t try to change mine to make me believe that this shit between us is right.”

  In my dreams, this conversation would be going a lot different. In my fantasy, Amiel would have shown up with his bags in tow and would have chosen our chemistry and happiness over an ‘arrangement’. However, that’s when I realized that, like Lyric, I also was in love with a fantasy and not the man. In myfantasy, love always loves me back. Yet, thereality of this man never measures up to my fantasy of love.

  All what played back in my mind as Amiel stood there, not saying what my heart wanted to hear, was the unconditional joy in Crystal’s eyes as she returned home to her husband, as she spoke to us about the contentment of that union no matter his bullshit, and how she held on to that faith with no reservation. Her joy is what I aspire to obtain, so I be damned if I continue to come between that same joy for another woman.

  What I saw in Crystal’s face was unconditional love for a man that she wants to be committed to for the rest of her life. Knowing that I want the same, I can’t purposely come between that or ruin that fantasy for any other woman- even if I am in love with her love and even if he isn’t in love with either one of us.

  “I never want to see you again.” As I separated personal keys from my car keys, I continued with faith that what I was doing was right. “Take the car and leave. Focus on your family, Amiel. That is your obligation, and I don’t fit into that plan.”

  I handed him the keys, and I seemed to let them go before I was even sure that he would be able to catch them.

  My walk away from him was so light and effortless. The further away from him that I got, the more liberated I felt. In the back of my mind, I still questioned deserting perfection. The connection between Amiel and I was perfect; something that only storybooks could illustrate. He was my ”perfect rhyme over a tight beat”, but, fortunately for me and unfortunately for him, in my play list there are many songs that play the perfect beat for me to live and be happy to.

  We were one mind in two bodies, and for him to knowingly wash his hands of something that powerful is disgusting to me.

  However, I know that though my heart may ache in the midnight hour, it will still continue to beat.

  My heart resembles my feet in my best pair of Franco Sarto pumps; sometimes there is discomfort and pain, but the knowledge that the longer I keep moving, the less my feet will hurt, keeps me walking.

  Seven months later…

  Love Hangover

  ONE

  Saturday, July 11, 2009

  TRICEY

  I was lying in bed wearing nothing but panties and a bra. I just got out of the shower, so I was enjoying the cool breeze as it blew from the vents. I even had the ceiling fan on its highest level to reinforce the cool breeze.

  Since it is the middle of July and I am eight months pregnant, I am miserable. I have been out all morning buying furnishings for the baby’s room. The sun seemed to be stalking me with its unbearable heat as I went from Baby’s R Us to Baby Gap, and then to this cute little baby boutique downtown that was way too damn pricey.

  When the doorbell rang, I grunted in discontent of having to get up from my temporary arctic haven. I knew it wasVic, so I had to roll off the bed to answer quickly before she started hammering on the doorbell impatiently.

  When I opened the door,Vic was on the other side with several bags in hand from Party City. As a favor, she picked up a few things that I needed for the baby shower tomorro
w.

  DeSire slowly followed her mother into the living room with her Dora the Explorer book-bag dragging the floor as she drank from her sip cup.

  After she landed on the couch, Vic looked me up and down, and laughed. “Where are your clothes?”

  “It’s too damn hot for clothes,” I grunted.

  “Well, you can at least cover up for our sake. I don’t want to see all that.”

  “Heifer, it’s not all that.”

  Surprisingly, I am carrying the baby very well. Most of the weight I have gained is in my stomach and hips. My face is a little fatter, but overall, I thankfully have not turned into another person yet.

  As I looked through the bags of decorations and supplies, I saw napkins that totally clashed with the pink and blue color scheme for the baby shower. Since I decided against knowing the baby’s sex until I give birth, I chose both colors for the decorations.

  “What are these black napkins for?”

  “Oh, you can give me those. I have to take those with me to church in the morning.”

  Vic is in church every Sunday and Thursday. She has made such a major change since her days of hopping from one dick to the next. A few months ago, she finally realized that she had several mental problems to deal with before she could truly be happy. Her psychologicalissues were starting to take a toll on her physically. In addition to the reckless sex that she was having, all aspects of her life were beginning to deteriorate as she began to realize that her mother’s death, the molestation she suffered from her father, and the way Taij broke her heart still affected her emotionally. She was not as “over it” as she was teaching herself to feel, and it was all definitely playing a negative roll in the decisions that she was making in her life.

  A week after Vic confessed to Vince, very good potential that she turned away about eight months ago, about her insecurities and inability to date him wholeheartedly because of them, she contacted a therapist. Vic initially thought she needed professional help, but those visits made her feel like a psych patient, so they only lasted two months. Then a co-worker, Lynn, invited her to church.