White Lines

by Tracy Brown

  Sunny heard the phone ringing just as she was contemplating going upstairs to take a hit. She walked to the living room and picked up the cordless handset. “Hello?” she answered, as she headed for the stairs.

  “Wassup, Sunny?” Raquel’s voice resounded in her ear.

  “Dorian’s not here.” Sunny prepared to hang up the phone.

  “I know. ‘Cuz he’s here.” Raquel sounded like she was laughing at her.

  Sunny stopped climbing the stairs, holding on to the rail for support. She kept her voice nonchalant, and said, “What kind of desperate shit are you pulling now, Raquel?”

  “You told me to keep riding Dorian,” Raquel reminded her. “And I’ve been doing just that. I’ve been riding him, sucking him, fucking him—”

  “Whatever!” Sunny laughed, as if this was all bullshit. “He don’t want you, bitch.”

  Raquel laughed last, and hers was sinister as she cackled in Sunny’s ear. “Oh, yes he does. He’s supposed to be in VA now, right? I know what he told you. Check inside the zipper in his duffel bag when he comes home. He loves to see me in these.”

  The line went dead, as Raquel hung up the phone. Sunny was furious, and distraught. Raquel must be crazy. She sat there on the stairs leading to her bedroom, leading to her drugs. She paused, wondering where Dorian really was. After all, they were hosting a party in less than an hour, and he was supposed to be driving home from Virginia, just as Raquel had said. He was driving home from VA, she told herself. Dorian wouldn’t mess with Raquel again after all they’d been through.

  Sunny felt a tear roll down her cheek. And she wondered who she was kidding. She looked around her at all the things she and Dorian had, all the things they shared: the photos, the memories, the furniture, the paint on the walls. It was all theirs. It was what they had built. She had the appearance of love, and of protection. But where was Dorian? Where was he every night when she was getting high with her friends, and spending money like time? All the years of women—Raquel and others—and she had stayed. She stayed, and she got high to ease the pain.

  She was angry, and she was hurt. It was probably true. Raquel had probably been fucking him all along. Sunny cried, realizing that she got high so much to escape that truth. But she’d known it all along. Part of her was not at all surprised by what she had been told. She turned and ran up the stairs, and into her bedroom. She looked around, and grabbed her red Coach bag. She pulled out her stash, and laid her escape route out for herself once more. But looking in her dresser mirror at her own reflection, Sunny saw herself so clearly. She paused. She looked at the sadness in her eyes. The pain. She saw herself as she truly was, and she shook her head in despair, and held on to the dresser for support.

  She had to stop running from the truth. Sunny saw herself, really, as the beautiful bombshell who still didn’t think she was good enough. She was the swan who still looked in the mirror and saw an ugly duckling. Every time Dorian cheated on her, Sunny’s self-esteem plummeted another notch. She reasoned that he must be cheating because she was unable to give him children. She was flawed, she thought, and Dorian wanted what she couldn’t provide for him. It made her feel inadequate, and she had tried so hard to be his all in all. She wanted Dorian to see her, and to want nothing more.

  Sunny took her hit, and proceeded to pack her belongings wildly. She ravaged their bedroom, bathroom, and linen closet as she prepared her exit. She was out of there! She knocked over vases and picture frames, perfume bottles and jewelry boxes. Tearing a path to her luggage, she proceeded to toss all of her things into suitcases. Fuck the party! Fuck Dorian, and all of it! Sunny was fed up.

  Dorian finally arrived, at the very height of Sunny’s frenzy. As soon as she heard him come in the front door, she came charging down the stairs, and pounced on him. Knowing that Sunny was a live wire, at first he thought she was happy to see him. It was the night of Born’s birthday party, after all, and he knew that Sunny loved to party. But instead of embracing him, Sunny snatched his duffel bag from his hand, zipped it open, and reached into its inside pocket. She dug around for a second, and then pulled out a piece of pink fabric. Holding it up, she looked at him, heartbroken. Dorian was confused. Realizing what it was, he tried to grab it back. But Sunny held it at bay. He knew right away that Raquel had set him up. That little bitch!

  Dorian stood calmly, looking around at the path of destruction that had been laid throughout his home. He looked at Sunny as she screamed at him, so close to his face that he could smell her Newport-tainted breath. “I hate you!”

  She ran up the stairs to resume packing her things. Her suspicions had been confirmed, and she was fed up. Dorian was furious with himself. He knew that he was slipping. He knew that Raquel was open. He knew she hated Sunny, that the two of them were in a competition for his love. But to Dorian, there was no competition. His heart belonged to Sunny. He had love for Raquel as the mother of his son. And yeah, he played himself from time to time and hit it. But only because of the sense of entitlement he felt with her. She was his baby’s mama, so in his mind that gave him carte blanche to fuck her when he saw fit. Raquel was good in bed. But at the end of the day, she was just a plaything he found hard to resist.

  Raquel was cut off completely when she shot at Sunny at his party. Dorian had refused to see her, and forbid her from coming near him or Sunny. Raquel had followed all his rules, and didn’t bother him. She had been civil toward him when it came to discussing their son. But otherwise it had seemed that she was ready to move on. But then she had gotten herself a new man. When Dorian found out that Raquel was fucking with some nine-to-five nigga who her friend had introduced her to, he was upset. He was at her house picking up D.J. one night when Mr. Legit came to take her out. Dorian had just put D.J. in the car when he saw the guy pull up in his Audi, and ring the bell. Dorian walked back toward the house, and was at the man’s side just as Raquel opened the door.

  “Who the fuck is this?” he had demanded, looking at Raquel while pointing at her date.

  Raquel looked surprised, but she explained that his name was Jason and he was taking her out. Dorian shook his head, and looked at the lame beside him. “You ain’t taking her nowhere, my man. Beat it before I lose my temper.”

  Jason looked at Raquel, expecting her to protest. She didn’t. Not wanting a fight with the intimidating character before him, Raquel’s date turned and got back in his car, and drove off. Raquel was furious. She had argued with Dorian for over an hour, telling him that he couldn’t ban her from his life and then forbid her from having one of her own. Dorian, honestly, didn’t understand why he felt so territorial when it came to her. But he wasn’t ready to let some other man play father to his son. Against his better judgment, he started fucking with her again. His only condition was that she had to agree to be discreet and keep it from Sunny. Raquel had been complying with that rule for months, and giving him top of the line head to boot. He had spent the past two evenings sitting back in his favorite seat in her living room, with her on all fours on the floor before him—all while a porno played on her big TV. Dorian had felt like a king, as Raquel had devoured his manhood like a hungry cat. With her ass seductively posed in the air for him to see, she would stare into his eyes as she pleasured him. The look in her eyes said, “I adore you.” “I’ll do whatever you want.” He was caught up, and he had let his guard down. And now Raquel had exposed that vulnerability.

  On this day Raquel had sexed him so perfectly that Dorian had fallen asleep afterward, right there in his favorite chair. He had only meant to close his eyes for a second, but that second had lasted hours, and Raquel had let him sleep. She never even bothered to awaken him, knowing that this was the night of Born’s party and that Sunny would be waiting. Raquel was no longer allowed to attend events that Sunny attended, so she was more than happy to let him rest comfortably. Obviously, she had slipped the panties he liked so much into his bag. He had fucked up, and he knew it.

  He climbed the stairs, and surveyed the dam
age that Sunny had done to their home in her fury. Sunny was angrily packing her things, and Dorian stood in the doorway of their bedroom watching her.

  “Here I am trying to have a party, and show Ava that this shit is love. That this shit is sweet. But it’s all fake, Dorian! All this shit is fake! You’re fuckin’ ‘I love you? are fake, you’re fake!” Sunny was irate. “The bitch fuckin’ shot at me! She shot at me, Dorian! She terrorizes me with the fact that I can’t have your kids, and you’re still fucking her! You heartless bastard! I fuckin’ hate you!!”

  Dorian calmly stepped over the clothes and bags, shoes and boxes strewn across the floor. He sat in the leather armchair near the window, and lit a half blunt that sat idly in the ashtray on the small table close by. He puffed the marijuana smoke as Sunny ranted and raved, as she packed her things, with tears cascading down her face. She was furious that he sat there so calmly, because she was seriously leaving. Even though she dreaded going back to her mother, who would surely urge her to work it out. After all, Dorian financed their lifestyles. Their whole family had too much invested for her to walk away. She had no idea where she would go. But she had money, and that’s all she needed. She was leaving Dorian for good this time.

  Dorian exhaled, and the smoke filled the room. He watched Sunny struggle to zip her overstuffed suitcase. “I know you’ve been stealing from me,” he said. “And I didn’t leave you.” He puffed some more. Sunny turned around and looked at him, the shock evident on her face. Dorian took another toke, and continued. “I’ve always known about it. Why do you think I started leaving more money than usual laying around? I used to ask you to count my money for me, when I had already counted it. Just to see what you would do. I was testing you. ‘Cuz I always gave to you.” Dorian’s tone was calm and very relaxed, as he continued to smoke. “Whatever you wanted. Trips, clothes, cars, parties, whatever you wanted. I do for your family. But I know women always want more. They can’t resist temptation. So eventually, things changed, and you slipped. Eighty-seven hundred dollars on the dresser became eighty-five hundred dollars when I woke up. I was gonna leave you then. But I watched and waited to see what you would do. I wanted to see what you would buy that I wasn’t already giving you.”

  Sunny stood still, tears streaming down her face, hanging on his every word. She was stunned by what she was hearing.

  “I watched you. But you didn’t use the money you took to buy anything. You started stashing it. I saw you hiding money. You would put it in a box of shoes at the bottom of your closet.”

  Sunny smirked, amused at how well Sherlock had known her all along.

  “You had a shoebox with a pair of pink high heels inside. But inside the toe of the shoes, you used to hide money. I knew all about it. You had a lot of it, too. When you filled up that box, you started using another one at the bottom of your closet. At first I thought you was trying to play me. But you just kept stacking dough. I saw that all you really wanted was to be able to feel like you had your own. You were so independent, and you always hated having to come to me and ask for money. I always noticed that. I would tell you, ‘Sunny, you and your family can come to me for whatever you need.’ And your family came to me. They came with no problem. But not you. You didn’t like feeling like you were getting a handout. So you stole to make yourself feel like it was something you earned. But even what you took was used for me or for us, for the house. Sometimes just for you, but I didn’t mind. I loved you. I understood you.” Dorian paused, and lit the blunt that had burned out as he talked. He inhaled, exhaled, and stared into Sunny’s eyes across the room. “But then my work started to come up short.”

  Sunny held her breath, her heart racing like a horse in her chest.

  “I always told you stories about my dealings with these customers of mine. I always warned you not to go that route, because of what I’ve seen. I told you that muthafuckas will make it sound appealing and fun, but that shit is no joke. Cocaine is nothing to fuck with. I once saw a fiend take a hit, and then she just broke out running and screaming at the top of her lungs. It was funny, and me and you laughed about it when I told you. But that shit ain’t really funny. What I’m selling here is the devil, just in powder form. This shit is poison. And I warned you that that fiend who ran off like she was possessed was no different from the bitches you see at parties looking gorgeous, and are still in the bathroom getting high. It looks like they’re maintaining. But that’s just an illusion. There’s always a story behind all that bullshit. It looks fun and enticing, but that shit is the worst. And you said you understood, princess. I told you! I told you about all your friends who were models and actresses, and all that other shit. They’re the worst ones. Most of them bitches are high all the time. You thought I wanted to hold you back. You acted like I didn’t want you to have your own spotlight. But I was only trying to keep you from getting too close to the fire.”

  He put his blunt down, and walked silently toward her. Sunny could barely look him in his eyes.

  “When my work started coming up short, I thought I was buggin’ at first. Figured I counted wrong. But the first time, it was one missing. The next time, it was three. Whoa, wait a minute. I knew I didn’t count wrong. So I watched you one time. You thought I was distracted with D.J. when he came over. He was little then, and you came upstairs to find some movie he wanted to watch. You thought I was downstairs with him, but I crept up the stairs and watched you. You came in here, and you went in my stash, and you took one. Then you went in the bathroom.” Dorian shook his head, still disturbed by that memory. The first time he knew for sure that Sunny was using. “I knew. I didn’t confront you, because I didn’t know what to say about it. I was already in love with you, and I felt responsible. I felt like it was my fault, because of the life I lived, and how I exposed you to the shit.”

  Sunny saw Dorian’s eyes getting misty. He had never seemed so hurt in all the years she’d known him. And she was ashamed that she was the one who had disappointed him so much. She continued to cry.

  He took her chin in his hand and tilted her face toward him. Dorian looked at her, piercingly. “When I found you, you were my little ghetto princess. I showed you this life … I gave you this life. You didn’t know about this lifestyle until I introduced you to it. I thought I didn’t really have a right to say nothin’ to you because of how I was living. I saw that you were maintaining. You didn’t seem to be so far gone. I watched you even closer after that, and I would leave shit in your path to see if you would bite the bait. You did, and I never said shit.” Dorian shook his head in regret. “But I never left you. Didn’t stop fuckin’ with you. Over and over again, you stole from me. You still steal from me. But I love you, and I never left. And now you’re gonna leave me, baby girl? We both got things about us we need to change. But how you gonna stand in a glass house and throw stones at me, when you have your own reasons to be sorry?” Dorian gripped her chin more firmly.

  Sunny was in full tears now. There were no words, because she was at a loss. What could she say? Dorian knew the truth.

  He saw the terror in her eyes—fear mixed with regret—and he let go of her face. He looked in her eyes. “I still love you, Sunny. But now, your shit is out of control. Now, you’re always high. You’re high right now. You can’t control it no more. And as much as I hate to admit it, you need help now.”

  He wiped her eyes. And he felt himself almost want to cry. But Dorian wasn’t the crying type. He manned up, and bit his lip to stop it from shaking. “I feel responsible, because I knew, and I didn’t stop you. I didn’t have the heart to stop you—”

  Sunny had the hiccups from all her waterworks. She hadn’t said a word so far, and she felt the need to try to explain. “It’s not your fault, D. I got myself on this shit. I was just…”

  “I know how it happens. I seen the shit a million times. But as long as you seemed to be in control, I was giving it to you, on the low. I might as well have been putting it in your hand. And then when you started being high ev
ery day, I couldn’t stand seeing you so twisted all the time. I couldn’t stand to be around you. I couldn’t watch you like that—destroying yourself. But I loved you so much that I never had the heart to walk away from you.”

  Sunny wiped her eyes and looked up sadly at Dorian. “So is that why you’re still fuckin’ with Raquel? Because you think I got a problem?”

  Dorian hugged Sunny. “You do have a problem,” he said. He kissed her on the forehead, and took a step back from her. “And yeah, that’s part of it. But I can’t place all the blame on you. I made a big mistake. I was fuckin’ with Raquel; I won’t insult your intelligence and deny it. I was fuckin’ her. But only because I could. And I’m sorry for that. I let her weaken me. But I still don’t love her. You’re still my angel, Sunny. You’re still my heart. Even with you using that shit, and stealing my dough … I got it bad for you, ma. I can’t walk away from you. And I’m telling you now I ain’t letting you walk away from me.” He looked like he meant it, and Sunny was so happy to hear him say it. She didn’t want him to let her leave. She wanted him to make it all right. Dorian pulled her into his arms. “But you gotta stop. You gotta get this under control.”

  Sunny nodded, clinging to Dorian for dear life. “I will. I’m gonna stop, I swear.”

  He rocked her in his arms, told her that he still loved her, and pulled her toward their bed. Dorian undressed her slowly, and made love to her for the first time in months. They did it right there on the bed on top of all the clothes she had thrown across it in her haste to leave. They were blind to all the scattered debris, and for the moment they were above their problems. It seemed like they had rediscovered each other, and they loved one another with a passion that took their breath away. Drenched in sweat, and drained, they lay together afterward, knowing without saying it that this was a new beginning for them. They had finally stopped ignoring the truth.