Kismet 3

by Raynesha Pittman

  It was Sunday around noon, and there wasn’t much to do, so I went and sat by the fountain at Centennial Park. It was a nice day out, a little chilly, but still nice. It was the perfect day just to sit, clear my mind, and enjoy the scenery. There was a couple, hand in hand, sitting on the bench across from mine. They were staring into each other’s eyes deeply. I could tell they were in love because they wore their feelings on their faces. Even if they tried, they wouldn’t have been able to hide their love for each other. I had never shared a moment like that or those deep feelings with anyone but Dre. They must’ve thought I was crazy by the way I stared at them, but if they could’ve read my mind, they would have understood.

  Mentally, I had turned the man’s face into Dre’s and envisioned myself as the woman. We were sitting there, enjoying each other, confessing our love and planning out our future together. The more that I stared at the couple, the stronger the cravings became of getting my happily ever after with Dre. It was time to be honest with myself and admit that the only thing that was stopping me from having what the couple in front of me had... was me. It wasn’t Dre being in jail, nor was it the way I was raised. It was the decisions I allowed myself to make. I hadn’t learned shit from Mama taking my money and Dre away from me. I kept fucking up, and this time, I really needed to right my wrongs without being forced to. I wouldn’t tell Dre that I had slept with Mike or Amir. I’d clean up my mess without a confession like I did with Royce. It was going to be hard to go another four months without dick, but I had Stephanie’s basket, and I would have to learn how to satisfy myself. I was proficient with a gun now, so Mike’s ass could go back to Nashville, and I had left Amir with an understanding that it was just sex this time. I could cut him off like I had before.

  The thoughts going through my mind had lifted my spirits, and I was ready for the new start my mama told me I was paying for. I walked up to the couple and thanked them without giving a reason. Then I pulled out my cell phone.

  “Hello, is this Mama Dee?”

  I called Dre’s mama and had a civil conversation with her that lasted an hour. I made arrangements to come to her house for dinner Saturday night so that I could meet her face-to-face. She was thrilled, and we ended up laughing as we said our goodbyes. My next phone call was to Ryan. I told him I’d be driving to Nashville this weekend to spend some time with Dre’s mother. I said we needed to talk face-to-face Sunday. I decided that I would tell him what happened between Mike and me. I wouldn’t tell him about us having sex but the person Mike became once he drank. He agreed to meet me, and I moved on to my next call.

  In Washington, it was nine o’clock in the morning, and I was sure everyone was getting ready to go to the eleven o’clock service, but I needed to hear my family’s voices. I spoke with Sade first, then Mr. Jefferson for an update on my father.

  “Your daddy is holding up fine. He hasn’t had a thing to drink since that day, and he even has a lady friend he’s been hanging out with from the church. Now, don’t go telling Mrs. Jefferson on me, but she’s a good-looking woman. Nice and round, and she always smells like candy. So far, she’s keeping your daddy smiling, and that’s just what he needs.”

  I was happy to hear it and told him to send my daddy and Memphis my love. I’d call them when I thought they were out of church. I had one more call to make, and I knew I would get his voicemail, but that’s exactly what I wanted.

  “Hey, Will, it’s me, Savannah. I’ve been trying hard to figure out what it is that I’ve done to you that would make you not return my calls and stop protecting me, but I’ve figured it out. I’ve been one-sided in our friendship, wanting you to give your all into it and not returning the same. I should have been there for you when you told me you and Alvin had broken up. Instead, I wanted you to be there for me as I continued to fuck up. I apologize for mistreating our friendship. I love you, and I’m here for you whenever you forgive me. Please call me when you do. Bye.”

  Leaving Will that message had me choked up, but it felt good to apologize to him, regardless of whether he’d accept it. If I could just hear Dre’s voice, my day would be complete.

  Amir called my phone the rest of the day, and I sent him to voicemail every time. When I made it home, I lay across my living-room couch and watched gospel on BET. I wasn’t religious, but I knew I needed to build a relationship with the Lord. My future husband went to church twice a week, and so did the rest of our family. I wouldn’t continue to be an outsider to the Lord or miss out on blessings.

  Around ten o’clock that night, Mike came knocking on the door. I let him in, and he was ready to talk, but I turned down the conversation invitation by going to bed.

  My week was going great. Dre had called me from his cell phone on Monday. He told me how much he loved me, missed me, and was proud of me for trying to get to know his mother. He gave me his cell phone number but told me to send a text; then he would call me back, just in case the guards were around. Tuesday was an even better day because one of the deals I had been working on for the past month went through, and the partners gave me companywide recognition. I knew it was eating Stephanie’s ass up. Every time I reread the email, I tried to picture her reaction to it. Besides Amir calling my phone all day and night, my week couldn’t have gotten any better. Then along came Wednesday. I woke up to a private number calling my phone. I normally don’t answer blocked numbers, but I wasn’t sure if it was Dre.

  “Hello?” I said in my morning voice.

  “Is this Savannah?” a woman’s voice asked.

  “Yes, this is Savannah.... Hello, hello?”

  The caller hung up but called back a few hours later, while I was at work.

  “Hello?” I repeated the greeting from earlier.

  “Watch your back, bitch. I’m coming for you.”

  Before I could say anything else, the caller hung up but continued to call me all day. After being hung up on twice, I stopped answering the calls. I was going to tell Mike about the calls when I got off of work, but I decided to wait until Sunday and tell Ryan instead. I focused back on work. Then lobby security notified me that I had a visitor at the front desk fifteen minutes before the end of my shift. It was Amir, holding what must have been three or four dozen roses.

  “Amir, what are you doing here? I’m working.” I tried to whisper it because the security guards were staring dead at us, trying to listen in on our conversation.

  “Why haven’t you returned any of my calls? I call day and night, and you don’t answer. Are you mad at me?”

  “No, Amir, I’m not mad at you, but remember what we talked about....” I leaned my face closer to his ear. “It was sex only. If and when I want more, I’ll call you. Never come to my job again. Do you understand me?”

  “Yes, I understand you, Savannah, but I need sex too. I want to sex you and cook for you. Let me massage you and make the tension go away, baby—”

  “No.” I had said it louder than I meant to, which caused the security to listen in even harder.

  “Amir, you need to leave. I will call you when I get a chance. Bye.”

  I was ready to walk away when he asked, “Can you please take the flowers I brought you, at least? They’re for you.”

  I grabbed the flowers and headed back to my office. It didn’t surprise me to look back and see Amir still standing there watching me walk off. I sat at my desk for another ten minutes to give him some time to leave. After I was sure he was gone, I grabbed my flowers and headed out the door to meet Mike in the parking lot. As we swapped seats, and I waited for him to get in the passenger side, Amir was parked directly behind us, watching the entire time. I drove off without giving him any extra attention.

  Amir blew up my phone from the time I pulled out of the parking lot at work to the time I made it home. I had to set his calls to go straight to voicemail. When I walked into the house, I threw the roses on the kitchen counter and went to use the restroom. Mike’s voice greeted me as I walked out of my bedroom.

  “To Savann
ah, the only woman I’ve ever loved, and the only woman I will ever love. You own my heart and my dick. They are both yours forever. I love you baby. Amir.”

  Mike was holding the card that came in the flowers in one hand and tossing the flowers in the trash with the other.

  “Does Dre know about your ‘one true love, Amir’? You think I’m gon’ sit here and let you play my boy?”

  “Mike, you have no idea what you’re talking about. I’m not playing ‘your boy.’ This is an old stalker from way before Dre and I met. Apparently, he’s starting back up.”

  Mike held the card in front of his face like he was reading it again because he felt he missed something. Then he looked at me and said, “Bitch, please.”

  He walked past me and went into the guest room, closing the door behind him. I wondered if he would tell Dre, or if I should beat him to the punch and tell Dre myself.

  The phone calls from Amir and the blocked number poured in all day Thursday, and so did the rain. It seemed as the rain came down harder, the worse the bullshit got. I checked my voicemail because the indicator light kept blinking, which meant my mailbox was full. Thirteen out of the fifteen messages were from Amir. He sounded like a lunatic with all his confessions of love, future plans, including children, and threats to kill my boyfriend, which I guess he was assuming was Mike. I wouldn’t correct him or stop him from getting Mike if that’s what he really wanted. That would be getting rid of two headaches at the price of one. The other two messages were from the woman with the blocked number. I was sure it was Melinda calling and threatening me, but Stephanie could have put somebody up to do it on her behalf. One of the messages was just her laughing, but the other was more informative.

  “Why aren’t you answering my phone calls, Savannah? I want to play with you. Don’t you like playing games with people? I’m coming to Atlanta for you, Savannah, and we will play a game that I think you’re going to love because you play it a lot. It’s called ‘Revenge,’ bitch, and I’m coming to get mine, so watch your back. Don’t you wish Dre were there to protect you?”

  How did she know Dre wasn’t here to protect me? I didn’t tell my job I was moving back because he went to jail, so Stephanie couldn’t have known. That worried me, because if it were Melinda, how would she have known of Dre, period? It wasn’t public information that I was dating or engaged. This shit was stressing me out. I needed a break from all the bullshit, and I couldn’t wait for Friday so I could drop Mike’s ass off in Nashville and spend some time with my in-laws. I couldn’t get the thought of meeting Dre’s mother out of my mind. I decided to finish up my work today and take Friday off to get my hair and nails done before meeting her. It would also put me under Ryan’s protection so that I could feel safe.

  I looked up salons in Nashville and made a three o’clock appointment for a full sew-in at one with high ratings. Afterward, I set up my auto response on my office phone and email, letting those who tried to make contact with me know I’d be out of the office until Monday. Then I headed out the door to meet Mike. My car wasn’t parked in the parking lot, nor was he anywhere to be found. I waited thirty minutes and called his phone over twenty times, but it went straight to voicemail. After another thirty minutes passed, so I called a cab to get home.

  When I walked in, my house was a mess. Empty Chinese food cartons covered my coffee table in the living room, pizza boxes and empty vodka bottles covered my kitchen counter, and the whole house smelled of weed and Black and Mild smoke. I charged into the guest room, but Mike wasn’t there. All of his belongings were still in the house, but he was physically missing. I looked out of his room and noticed the bathroom light was on from the space at the bottom of the door, but before I could make it in there, my bedroom caught my attention. I could hear the sound of my headboard hitting the wall repeatedly and soft moans. As I approached the door, it was cracked enough to where I could peek in. Not only was Mike in my room, but he was also stark naked lying across my bed with a white bitch straddled across his face and another one riding his dick as he used his phone to record it. If he hadn’t been lying on top of it, I would have gone for my gun and cleared my house out, but instead, I went back to the living-room closet and grabbed one of my old crutches.

  Then I kicked the door open in the room and started swinging and screaming, “Get the fuck out! Get your nasty asses out of my fucking house!”

  My crutch had connected with the side of the girl’s face that had been riding Mike’s dick. She fell over like a domino while the other jumped off his face and grabbed her clothes, begging not to receive the same fate. As the women scattered to get dressed and exit my house, I noticed Mike didn’t make a move. He didn’t even attempt to cover his naked body. He grabbed his half-smoked blunt out of the ashtray he had sitting on my nightstand, lit it up, and smoked it like he was a king. When I heard my front door slam behind Mike’s sluts, I started in on him.

  “Who the fuck do you think you are, motherfucker? You bring two unknown hoes in my house and have the nerve to fuck them in my bed. Get your nasty ass up!”

  He just looked at me like I hadn’t said a word and continued to smoke. I cocked the crutch back to get in the position to swing, so he’d know I meant business. That seemed to get some of his attention. He at least spoke up.

  “They were twins,” he smiled, then continued, “and I’m already up. Don’t you see how hard my dick is? I had a little talk with your friend Amir today, man to man, and he told me about you. Why don’t you give me a sample of that throat? From what Amir said, you don’t gag, and I think I’m going to need it if you don’t want me telling Dre how you got dog-fucked last weekend on Amir’s car.”

  He put the blunt back in the ashtray, closed his eyes, put his right hand behind his head, and held his dick out with the left. I took a deep breath, pulled all my strength together, and swung the crutch as hard as I could, making sure to not only hit his dick but to connect with his balls too. I repeated the swing until I had connected with every part of his body I could reach as he ran for protection.

  “Bitch, I’m gon’ kill you!” he yelled out in pain as he held his dick, which was now covered in blood. He grabbed his T-shirt off the floor, wrapped it around his dick, and then charged at me. Thanks again to Ryan’s training, in two quick moves, I had him lying on his back with a possible injury to his spine. As he lay there screaming in agony, I made it to the side of the mattress that stored my gun again and aimed it at him.

  “Get out. Get the fuck out of my house now, Mike. I don’t give a fuck about you being hurt or naked. You need to go. You can tell Dre about me and Amir. I don’t think he’ll give a fuck, especially after I tell him he will have to get a DNA test for his son and how you raped me.”

  “Ain’t nobody rape you, ho. You gave it up.”

  “It’s your word against mine, bitch!” I spat at him. “And after he finds out you’ve been lying to him for all these years by fucking his baby mama, I’m sure he will believe me over you.”

  I took a few steps nearer to him, and he scooted backward on his naked ass into the hallway as I continued.

  “Mike, I’ll give you two options. You can keep your mouth shut about the little shit between Amir and me, and I’ll do the same with the shit between you and Tasha. I’ll let you get your shit and get dressed, and you can leave here in a taxi to the Greyhound station and head back to Nashville like you left because we both feel I’m now capable of protecting myself. Or there’s Option Two. I can call Dre before your naked ass makes it to the elevators and tell him how you stuck your dick in me trying to rape me and how I had to fight you off. I can tell him how you bragged about fucking Tasha and that his son really is yours. Then I can call the police and have them come out and take a report and hint that they need to check the contents of those other two bags that you thought I didn’t know were full of weed. Yes, I know everything. And you thought you were slick trying to sell them while I was at work. There’s a lot about the night we fucked that I try to block out of
my mind, but I’d never forget you opening the wrong bag in search of your condoms and seeing just how dirty you really were. I watched those bags get lighter and lighter every week. So, which option is it?”

  He held his index finger up to indicate he was choosing Option One. I wasn’t dumb, so I left him in the hall and removed his bags out of the room, minus the two guns he had brought with him. I’d drive them back to Nashville myself and have Ryan give them to him. He wasn’t going to shoot and kill me. Next, I went to my linen closet and threw him a washcloth. I told him to freshen up before the cab arrived. When he was dressed and ready to go, I locked the door behind him and started cleaning my apartment. When the sheets were in the dryer, I packed my bags for Nashville, showered, then hit the road around eight o’clock that night. If Mike returned, he’d have no idea of my location.

  I slept in until my hair appointment, and when it was over, I went to the nail shop and had my nails, eyebrows, and lashes done all in one place. I wasn’t tired, but I assumed Mike was back in town by now, and I didn’t want to make the mistake of running into him. I went back to my hotel and hung out by the bar until I was ready to go to bed. It dawned on me as I ordered room service the next morning that I hadn’t heard from Dre since early in the week, so I sent him a text. The message came back, saying, Undeliverable.

  Not understanding why it couldn’t be delivered, I sent a text to Ryan, who immediately called instead of texting back. “Why didn’t you tell me you were on your way down here? Did Mike at least ride here with you?”

  “Umm, Mike is what I need to talk to you about. I know I said Sunday, but if—”

  “Where are you? I’m on my way.”

  He didn’t let me finish my sentence, but I guess he heard it in my voice. Less than an hour later, he was knocking at my hotel room’s door.

  I didn’t tell Ryan everything that happened from the time Mike moved in. I only told him enough. I made sure to leave out the part where we had sex and Mike’s confession of being Andre Jr.’s dad. I wasn’t sure if or when Dre should have to hear it. Dre has been Junior’s father for the last seven years. I can’t imagine what knowing that information would do to him, but I told Ryan everything else.