A Weekend Affair

by Noelle Vella

  The tears that I’d been fighting against started to stroll down my cheeks.

  “So you want a divorce is what you’re saying?” I asked him, just for clarity.

  “I don’t want to be with you no more. I don’t.”

  I inhaled and exhaled heavily. “Malik, this is a marriage. You don’t just walk away from a marriage. This isn’t some rinky-dink relationship. We stood before God and took vows!”

  “Yo, where my kids?” he asked, completely ignoring everything I’d just said.

  “Malik!”

  “Where my kids?”

  Outside my window, it was cloudy, but had just enough sunlight to brighten the day for the outdoor activities of the festival. I wished I could see just a little of the sun in my life . . . in my future. As of now, gloom had settled in.

  “So, you’re for real? You’re just going to walk out on me like that? Make me a freaking single mother because you want to chase ass?”

  “Making you a single mother because you chose to be one. You had a husband, but I guess other shit was more important than me.”

  “Malik, I stay at home all the damn time,” I explained, tears rushing down my cheeks. “I go to Washington once a year for a book conference. I go to school at home for the most part! I work from home! What more do you want from me?”

  Malik barked into the phone. “Pay attention to a nigga sometimes. You stay shut up in that damn room doing whatever it is you do on the computer. I come home from work and have to take the kids. Shit, I get tired too. Then you won’t give a nigga no pussy. I can’t even get my dick handled because you put your work and your school before me.”

  “Malik, all I asked from you was to watch the kids for a few hours after work so I can get some work done. That’s it. You’re barely getting any hours at work. So I work extra hard to meet deadlines so I can get advances. Work damn hard to keep my GPA up so I can qualify for scholarships so what’s left can be sent back to me so I can help with bills around the house. You don’t want me to work outside the home. You don’t want me to go anywhere,” I yelled. “Jesus Christ, what else do you want from me!”

  I knew he could hear me crying. By now, I couldn’t stop the tears from falling. The soul wracking sobs shook my shoulders and weakened me to the point I plopped down on the bed behind me.

  “I don’t want to hear all that shit. Where the fuck my kids at? Your moms got them or what?” was all he said to me.

  When all I could do was cry, not giving him the answer he wanted, he hung up on me. I dropped the phone on the bed wondering what had I done to him to make him treat me like I meant nothing to him. I wracked my brain trying to remember a time when I had made my husband feel less than. I went out of my way to never disrespect the man. Did everything he asked me to, and it still wasn’t enough.

  I showered in solemnness. Tried to wash away the memories of Carl and couldn’t. Tried to lather up enough soap to get rid of the sin I’d committed. Not only was I married, but Carl was too, no matter if he was going through a divorce. My God, what I was thinking? As I beat myself up, I pulled on a pair of yoga pants and a tank for the time being and headed downstairs. My braids hung down my back.

  Gabby had the sliding door open, leaving the screen closed. For the life of me, I didn’t want to burden her with my woes so I fixed myself up best I could. As the waves hugged the shore for the moment, the call of the seagulls and other birds could still be heard. The sizzling of frying bacon greeted me. Scrambled eggs sat fluffy on a serving tray along with golden toast.

  “Well, it’s nice of you to join the living,” Gabby jibed once she realized I was in the kitchen.

  I smiled and headed for the pitcher of orange juice. She was smiling, but I could see that she was tired. Dressed in only red biking shorts and a sports bra, I could tell she was relaxed.

  I poured myself some juice and said, “Ugh. I barely got any sleep,” I told her.

  “I heard,” she said, then laughed.

  I rolled my eyes, a bit embarrassed at it all. Still, when those memories came flashing back, I had to grab ahold of the counter.

  “I feel so bad, Gabby,” I told her.

  She didn’t ask about what. She knew exactly what I was talking about because she knew me.

  She rolled her eyes. “The deed is done now, Shell. Can’t take it back, so there is no need to beat yourself up over it. Did you at least enjoy it?”

  I nodded as a slow smile adorned my features. “I did. Best sex I’ve had in a long time. I’m not sure how to feel now. On one hand, I enjoyed myself a little too much, and on the other hand, I feel like crap because I betrayed my vows.”

  “Girl, Malik has been betraying those vows since I’ve known you.”

  “Yeah, but—”

  “But what?”

  She gave me a side eye as she stirred grits on the stove. I hadn’t expected her to be cooking grits. She hated the things. Thought they were disgusting. So there was no doubt she was cooking them for me.

  “You’d better not be about to stand up here and say anything that remotely sounds as if you’re about to excuse Malik’s behavior. I heard you upstairs, so I know what happened. Screw him. Let’s not forget that bacterial vaginosis you had almost two years ago. And I’m not here to beat you over the head with I told you so, but I did tell you so.”

  I thought back to the time when I’d thought Malik may have given me an STI. After jumping down his throat, only to have him deny it vehemently, I had called Gabby in a panic because my vagina smelled like a fish had crawled inside of me and died. Most traumatic moment in my personal life. Luckily, my doctor had told me that BV didn’t necessarily have to come from sexual intercourse. She’d told me it could have come from a number of things that may have caused my vaginal pH balance to become unbalanced. So I chalked it up to that and left it alone. Now it was coming back to haunt me.

  Gabby turned to look at me.

  With a hand on her waist she said, “Shell, I can explain it to you, but I can’t understand it for you. Malik has done you a favor. And I’ll just leave that right there. Now back to you and Carl. Did he treat you like a cheap whore and leave money on the nightstand?”

  As much as I wanted to be mad at her for saying how she felt—making me feel stupid in the process—I couldn’t help but laugh at what she’d asked.

  “No, but I wish he would have. Checked my bank account this morning and it’s not happening for me.”

  Gabby waved her hand. “Give me your account number again and I’ll transfer you some money over.”

  I started shaking my head. “Gabby, no. You’ve already done enough. I have debt with you now. I know you’re trying to help, but no. I’m just venting, I promise. Just because I talk about my issues, I don’t want you to think I’m fishing for money.”

  Gabby frowned, went to the sink to fill a glass with water, then tossed it on me.

  A big splash of water hit my face, neck, ears, and chest. I squealed and inhaled hard. I couldn’t believe she had done that.

  “Gabby, what the hell?” I yelled.

  “That’s for insulting me, and because I know if I hit you I’m too tired to fight your country thick behind off me. I would never in my life think you were fishing for money because you vented your problems to me! What the heck kind of friend would I be if I thought such a thing? Who does that?” she quipped, a bit angrily.

  “I wasn’t trying to offend you. I just wanted you to know that—”

  “I don’t care. You did offend me. I’m your friend, and if the first thing I think is that you’re fishing for money when you come to me, then I don’t know how to be a true friend.”

  With that, she walked off and headed to the bathroom. I rushed over to grab the grits so they wouldn’t burn. She’d made me feel bad about the whole thing. I hadn’t meant any harm. Just wanted her to know that as my friend she wasn’t obligated to help me and that I would never abuse her generosity as such.

  I guess just because I didn’t mean any h
arm doesn’t mean I didn’t cause any. When she came out of the bathroom, I apologized to her. She accepted. We hugged it out and moved on. I walked over to the door and looked out. The scenery looked as if it should have been put on a postcard. Even though the air was a little cool and the sun was battling the clouds for dominance, the beauty of the island couldn’t be denied.

  “I can’t believe I had sex with a man I’d met only hours before,” I said after a while, talking to myself more so than Gabby.

  “I can’t either, but, hey, it happens all the time.”

  “Yeah, but not with me.”

  She shrugged. “First time for everything.”

  My brows furrowed, and I walked over to feel her head to see if she had a fever.

  She knocked my hand away from her head and asked, “What?”

  “Trying to see if you have a fever. Is this the same Gabby from last night? The one who was trying to talk me out of a one-night stand?”

  She shook her head and rolled her eyes as she put the last of the bacon on the serving tray.

  “Oh my gosh,” I yelled. “You slept with Diego, didn’t you?” I asked.

  She tried to hide a smile as she picked up the tray and went to set it on the circular glass dining table. I grabbed the juice and two glasses since she had already set the table. She took a seat. Once the food was blessed, I kept staring at her.

  “What, Shell?”

  “Are you going to tell me if it was even good or not?”

  She chuckled. “I didn’t say I did anything!”

  “But you did. I know you did.”

  “How?”

  “Because if you hadn’t, you would be scolding me right now.”

  “I mean, you’re grown, so you can do what you want.”

  “Which is apparently what you did.”

  She took a bite of her bacon, and then looked back up at me. “Yes, I did, and no, I don’t regret it. I thought I would, but I don’t. It was fun actually, and it was worth it.”

  I couldn’t believe it. The woman who was against one-night stands had participated in one. Then again, I’d done the same. So there we were, two peas in a pod. Of course, I needed to know if he was as good in bed as he looked. Had to know. Diego was fine as shit and being as tall as he was, I had to wonder if he was well equipped.

  “So is he one of those brothers whose height and good looks makes up for the fact he has a little dick?” I asked.

  “No, I must say, he is very well taken care of in the penis department. Took me a minute to adjust to the size.”

  I grinned wide. It had been so long since she’d had some good dick. I knew it was crass, but I didn’t understand her pain until my husband had started to drop the ball sexually in our marriage. It really sucked not to be getting good sex, but it sucked more when you had available dick, and they still couldn’t satisfy you. So I would never be mad at her for taking the bull by the horns and riding that motherfucker until the hooves fell off.

  We laughed and talked some more, then cleaned up the kitchen as we talked about the night before. Afterward, we took some time to pick out outfits for the day. She chose black tights that looked as if they had been painted on, a cute turquoise baby doll top with high-top sneakers of the same colors. I thought the simple attire looked absolutely gorgeous on her. Showed off her shape and brought out the youthful features she had.

  I decided to be daring. I grabbed a pair denim shorts to go over my black leggings. I hadn’t worn shorts in years, and I knew if Malik had seen me in them he would have a fit. But as I slid them over my thighs and hips, I couldn’t help but enjoy the freedom this weekend had allotted me. I pulled on a fish tail button-down shirt. The fish tail just meant it was longer in the back than in the front. I had on black combat boots that came up to my knees.

  I pulled my braids into a ponytail, then went to help Gabby style her locs. The woman had a lot of healthy hair, and I often wondered how she handled it when I wasn’t around. Anytime she and I got together, she said she would breathe a sigh of relief that I could help her do her locs. Not that she couldn’t, it was just that I knew an array of styles she could wear and often styled her hair in many of them.

  Once we were all fancied up and ready to go, we headed out. I was glad it hadn’t started to rain again. I really wanted to get out and enjoy the day. The drive to town wasn’t really much of a drive at all. The streets were blocked off so you had to pay for parking and walk the rest of the way to whichever event you wanted to take in. There was a big DJ booth set up at the end of the street and a makeshift dance floor that already seemed to be crowded. Grills were going at every corner. Food trucks sat about. You could smell different kinds of food for miles. Arts and crafts were on display, as well as hand sewn clothing being sold by different African American designers. The weather didn’t seem to be on anyone’s mind.

  “So, you plan on seeing Carl again before you leave?” Gabby asked me once we had parked the car.

  We passed through the sea of people crowding the street. I looked up at the big banner advertising the twenty-fifth annual celebration for the black community in Savannah and the year’s theme was “Dare to Dream; Create a Legacy.” Gabby had wanted to catch the play Flyin’ West. As the day went on, she and I found ourselves in the thick of things. If you didn’t know, Savannah had a rich African American history. Gabby and I were trying to keep cognizant of the time since at seven that evening we were supposed to head to the Savannah State University’s Kennedy Fine Arts Building to see Flyin’ West.

  The play was set in Nicodemus, Kansas, in 1898, and depicts the story of courageous, black pioneer women, former slaves, and free women of color, who went west to build a new life for themselves. Gabby was all for women’s empowerment and loved things that showed how we as black women overcame such a tumultuous time.

  I wanted to catch the W. W. Law Lecture Series, named after Westley Wallace Law who was born in the 1920s and was one of the most prominent civil rights leaders in Savannah. So we started to walk toward the Savannah Civic Center. We had our whole day mapped out.

  I shook my head. “I don’t think I can do that again. I just can’t. I’m barely able to live with myself now. As good as he was in bed, I’m good on that. What about you? You thinking about getting some of Diego again?”

  She smiled. “I did tell Diego he was invited if he wanted to come back.”

  My eyes widened. “What?”

  “Hey, don’t judge me. It’s been a minute. And besides, who says a woman can’t enjoy a little responsible fun?”

  “Errr . . . you. You told me that.”

  “Do as I say, darn it, not as I do!” she said with a laugh.

  I playfully shoved her. “You’re so full of it.”

  Chapter 14

  Gabrielle

  Shell and I walked around checking out the various booths that lined the streets. The temperature had warmed up nicely, despite the looming clouds. While it appeared to be the calm before the storm, the threat of rain didn’t deter the throngs of revelers. Although the event was designed to celebrate the rich heritage of black Americans, people from all backgrounds partook in the numerous festivities. Good food, good drink, and good music all seemed to have a way of bringing people together.

  Generally, I’m a very healthy person, but this was my weekend to indulge. I was dying for something sweet and came across a shop located on East River Street. Savannah’s Candy Kitchen had just what I needed to fill my craving. I dragged Shell inside, much to her dismay.

  “Gabby, why do I have to go in there with you? I’ll probably gain ten pounds just looking at all that stuff,” she protested.

  Sighing, I said, “Ma’am, if it makes you feel any better, you can wait outside.” I knew how sensitive she was about her weight.

  She quickly bolted for the door, leaving me standing there with my mouth open. As I surveyed the shop, I noticed the wide assortment of confections; an assortment of pralines, taffies, turtles, baked goods, fudges, and numerous
other sweets filled the place. I needed to pick something quickly before I went overboard. I settled on a quarter pound of maple walnut fudge, then made my way back to Shell.

  She was at a booth that sold scented oils. I had a weakness for those; owned quite a few. I loved them because not only could they be used as body fragrances; they also could be used in oil warmers at home. I picked out a few for myself, as well as for Shell, paying the vendor.

  “Damn, Gabby.”

  “What?” I was taken aback by her reaction.

  “You have to stop spending your money on me. You make me feel like a pauper because I can’t really afford anything.”

  My brow furrowed in confusion. “It’s just a few bottles of scented oil. What’s the big deal?”

  “The big deal is I couldn’t even afford to buy them for myself.”

  While I understood why she felt the way she did as far as her money situation was concerned, what I couldn’t understand was why, after we’d had been friends for so long, she would still have issues with me doing little things like this. Sometimes she was just too prideful. But I wasn’t going to belabor the point.

  “Fine, if that’s how you feel, I won’t buy you anything else.”

  “Look, Gabby, I don’t want you to think I’m ungrateful; it’s just that I hate that I can’t get the things I want. And I hate feeling like a charity case.”

  I looked at her. “Shell, if that’s how you really feel, then that’s on you. But like I said, I won’t buy you anything else.”

  We walked in silence for a while. I didn’t want to argue. I wanted to enjoy the festival, and the rest of my time on the island. Wasn’t in the mood for pity parties or drama, and right now, Shell was being a real Debbie Downer. But when we came upon a particular booth, her mood instantly changed.

  It was the booth for Electron Enterprises. It appeared to be fully staffed with employees performing health assessments. There was a sizable line of festivalgoers patiently waiting to receive the various services. At the booth, handing out pamphlets and chatting with participants, were Diego and Carl. I glanced at Shell, who was trying to hide the slight smile on her face. I could tell by her body language that although she felt guilty because of what she had done, she wasn’t completely guilt-ridden.