by Tiana Laveen
“Did they tell you that before or after you slept with the same girls, too?”
“Oh, don’t get it twisted. I pulled way better girls than him.”
“Okay, now you’re just hatin’ on him.” She chuckled. “I think that’s a bit of an exaggeration, but I was aware of his ways and reputation. Anyway, like I told you, he and I were undefined. Maybe I’m being naïve, but I believed him when he told me he wasn’t having sex with other girls right before he left for college. He may have pretended as if he was involved to save face, uphold his reputation, but he actually wasn’t.”
He was quiet for a while, as if he too, was recalling that things had in fact changed, but he wouldn’t utter the words.
“I should call the police. He was on his way to college and you were a junior in high school. Messin’ with kids.”
“You really need to stop.” She laughed. “I hope your arms don’t hurt from all of that reaching. I have no idea why you’re so mad about this. You’d think we’d run off, got married and had a love child without your knowledge.”
“If you two liked each other like that, I would’ve helped you. I would’ve made sure people left you alone about it when we were in school. You know if I ever heard stuff, I never let anyone mess with you. The problem was, I was in different classes and sometimes, by the time I heard about something, it was too late. To this day, I don’t know why some of those girls bullied you like that, but I believe it was jealousy. You were smart. Real smart. And I don’t care how much you were down on yourself about your weight when we were younger; you were pretty, too. And not pretty for a fat girl, pretty simply ‘AS IS.’”
She smiled at his words.
“Now that I’m older, I know my weight was used as a tool to try and hurt me because they felt insecure. I get that now, but at the time that didn’t matter. It hurt. And I know you felt protective of me, Andre. It’s just that I didn’t want you to ever feel obligated to fight my battles. You had your own stuff to deal with.”
Truly, Andre had been quite protective of her in high school. However, he’d also been dealing with many problems at home, and the last thing she wanted was to compound that.
“Anyway Andre, please don’t tell anyone. When I’m ready for others to learn about this, I will tell them directly. I’m letting you know as a courtesy.”
“So, I take it then that you are going to go out with him like he asked? To see where this goes?”
“Hold up a minute, Andre.” She finally reached the gate, slid in her parking card, and waited for the arm to raise. Relieved to be out of the dark garage staring at nothing but brake lights, she pulled out onto the main drag. “I haven’t told him yes yet, but yeah. It’s been nagging me since I saw him two days ago. Andre, it’s like all those old feelings came flooding back. It was insane. All the anger, the happiness… it was all there. You know I’m a rational person. I try to not live in the past, but this was different. It was almost like it was… this is going to sound stupid, but destined. It was like we picked up right where we left off.”
“I don’t know how I feel about this, Egypt. On one hand, I’m happy you’re happy about this, but on the other, I really wonder if Jordan has changed. This guy is smooth, all right? He’s got the world in his hands and you may be a challenge for him because you’re probably the only girl he pursued to some extent, but due to the circumstances, you got away. I’ll have to think about it.”
“Well, lucky for you, you don’t have to worry about trying to figure out how you feel because I didn’t ask you how you felt about it, Andre. All that matters is what Jordan and I think about it. I don’t go around asking you to let me talk to each woman you date beforehand. If I did, I’d be asking every other week!”
“Egypt, you don’t need to get mad at me. I’m just looking out for you. I don’t want you to get hurt.”
“Andre, please don’t think I forgot about what you said about the recent Christmas commercials that have been out.”
“Huh?”
“You said that there is an agenda for White men to date Black women, that it’s being pushed down our throats. But funny how I never hear you say that when it is a White woman and a Black man all chummy with their cereal bowls and biracial children on the television. You’ve said lots of things like that over the years. Now look, I’m not accusing you of being racist, I know you actually truly did like Jordan, but you still are triggered by things like this, which makes you not objective. Will you be honest and admit it?”
“Nah, ’cause that shit isn’t true and there are far more Black women with White guys walking around, in the movies, and on these shows. Even on the damn cartoons you see it now, rather than the other way around. What happened to embracing Black love? Can’t you see how they are trying to program us? The media is trying to pit Black women and Black men against each other. I’m not even saying interracial dating is wrong, as long as it’s done for the right reasons.”
“Bull. You have a problem with White men. You on some level feel inferior. I know all about feeling inferior and faking it until you make it. Don’t play with me.”
“I’m not playin’ with you, and you’re projecting. Not everyone is like you, or thinks like you, and I don’t have a problem with White men just because they’re White – that’s ridiculous. But you’re being naïve if you think that these White guys, especially men like Jordan, are really tryna get serious with a Black woman without some sort of strings being attached.”
“Oh, because a man who looks like Jordan, has a job like Jordan wouldn’t possibly want lowly ol’ Egypt, huh? I may have lost the weight, I might have a good job my damn self, I may have an education, a great personality and beautiful smile, but I’m still not on his level because I’m not a White woman? Andre! Boy, bye! I can read between the lines, and I don’t need glasses to see right through you. You’ve stuck your entire foot in your mouth.”
“He kept you a secret all these years because he didn’t want anyone to know he was messing with a Black girl, Egypt, and I find it kinda fucked up that you’re willing to overlook that!”
“You have no clue as to what I have overlooked and what I have not. You must think I’m an idiot.”
“No, I don’t. I just think you’re infatuated right now. I think someone you once cared about showed up at the right time, and you’re clinging to him because you two had some good memories together. Like I said, I liked Jordan. He wasn’t a bad guy at all. But you’re romanticizing the past. He doesn’t even live here anymore! You honestly think he’s going to leave his cushy job and lifestyle in Cali to be with you? What are you gonna do when he finds his next piece of ass in California and goes with her instead of you? Dude is thirty-four years old, no kids, never been married. That’s by choice. He’s out here playin’.”
“And I’m the unicorn, as you call me, so I’m out here playing too, right?”
“Look, all I’m saying is he wants his options open. I’m a guy. I know how we think, Egypt. He’s going to get back to California and forget about you. You’d probably never know until it was too late, and then you’d be calling me, upset and sobbing and I won’t be allowed to tell you that I told you so. Look, Egypt.” He took a deep, audible breath. “You’re not dating anyone, the holidays are here, it gets lonely.”
“Oh, wow! You didn’t really just go there? You don’t think I’ve thought about that? You don’t think he and I discussed the fact that he kept me hidden? There were reasons for that, and he was open and candid about why. Didn’t make it right, but I appreciate him stepping up to the plate and telling the truth.”
“Hey, I’m not the bad guy here. If it was me, you’d be telling me the exact same thing. I’m just being honest. I care about you.”
“Honest? Jordan sure as hell was a lot more honest about his take on this subject matter than you are. And you know me better than this. As if I’m living in a dream world, some fairytale. Settle? Me? Never! I’ll be the old cat woman with the fat bank account traveling all ov
er the world before I hitch myself to someone who is ashamed of me in my adult years, or just wants to use me and move on to the next pair of legs. I was overweight and a nerd, and I still had confidence. No, I wasn’t going to run to you for protection. Maybe I should’ve, maybe I had too much pride, and yes, I had bad days, more than my share, but I knew who I was and what I had to offer the world and a man once I was ready.”
“I just find it confusing that this guy has apparently swept you off your feet in a matter of days, but you’re super paranoid with most of the other men you’ve dated. They’re never good enough.” She knew exactly what Andre was implying, and she gritted her teeth as she tried to reign in her temper, get herself under control. She could count on one hand how many times she and this man argued, and it seemed to always revolve around a relationship – either his or hers.
“Okay.” She laughed mirthlessly. “I see what you’re doing, where you’re going with this. Newsflash. Not all Black women think the White man’s water is colder, Andre. We simply try different watering holes and see who can handle our drought. I couldn’t give a shit about the color of the damn fountain. Now, on that note, I have to go.”
“Come on, E. You’re blowin’ this outta—”
“Until you can be honest with yourself, then you can’t be honest with me. Enjoy the rest of your day, sweetheart.” She ended the phone call and turned on the radio. ‘So Many Tears,’ by 2Pac was playing. She swayed to the beat, snapping her fingers to one of her favorite songs from her youth. Forty minutes later, she was finally home. As she pulled into the driveway, she noticed something on her condo doorstep. It appeared to be a package.
“What is that? Did I order something?” She pulled into her garage, grabbed her briefcase, and entered her home. After turning off the alarm, she opened the front door and picked up the parcel wrapped in pretty white, silver and gold, a large red bow in the center.
Bringing it into the kitchen, she turned on the light, and set it on the marble island counter. Hmmm, who sent this? It had no name written on it, no label. Well, maybe it’s an early Christmas gift from Ms. Frieda or Davis. She often would bake cookies for two of her neighbors, two elderly women she often checked in on. Sometimes, they’d repay the favor and leave her a little something, too. She carefully undid the wrapping, revealing a game of Connect Four.
“Oh my God! No, he didn’t!”
The giggles bubbled out of her and joyous tears filled her eyes. It was the same gift he’d given her for her birthday, so very long ago. I told Jordan that my favorite game had been burned in the fire. We kept the board games in our kitchen pantry, where the fire had started, and they were all gone. He brought this up to the library in a giftbag, along with a birthday card that had a big gerbil holding a pink cake on the front.
It was then that she noticed a small piece of paper taped to the bottom of the board game. She peeled it off and read it:
Egypt,
When I saw you in person again, I can’t even describe to you how excited I was. I remember everything about what we shared together. We were friends, but so much more. We’re much older now, things are different, and I don’t have all the answers, but I know this feels right. The first thing I thought about when my plane landed in Boston was you. Board games burned in fires can be replaced. What we had cannot. Try and prove me wrong. I dare you.
She picked up the game, held it to her chest, and rocked with joy and happiness…
“You know you wondered what I was like in the sack.” They drove past the Nova Scotia trees, all aglow with Christmas lights. Upbeat classic Christmas jingles played on the rental car radio as he moved slowly down street after street, enjoying the sights with Egypt. It had been her damn idea. He’d proposed a movie and some chow, but she wanted to go look at Christmas displays in Beacon Hill. It seemed like forever since he’d been out that way.
“You have a dirty mind,” she said with a laugh. “I said I wondered what you were like with your family, not in bed. I never got to see you with them for obvious reasons, but I knew they meant… well, they mean a lot to you. I saw what you were like with your friends, at school, and with me alone, but that was a missing piece. A big piece. Look at that!” She pointed at a window. “They put a Santa on the chimney and he’s moving up and down. That’s cute!”
“I definitely want you to meet my family.” She turned towards him, and he reached for her, pushing curls from her bangs out from her face. “That’s no problem. Back to the sex though. See—”
“We weren’t talking about sex. You were.” She stuck her tongue out at him and turned away.
“Yeah, we were. Don’t try to change the subject now. It’s too late. I caught ya checkin’ out my meat when I picked you up.” He laughed as he reached for the small carton of chocolate milk he’d bought from the convenience store and took a swig. He’d been meaning to get hot cocoa, but this was the best he could muster.
“That’s a whole lie!”
“No, it’s not. Your eyes went straight for my crotch. I always wondered what sex with you would’ve been like.”
“I’m sure you did. You have a one track mind.”
“That means I know the route well.” He winked at her.
She grimaced, then sucked her teeth and rolled her eyes.
“I have a question for you.”
“Yeah? What’s that?”
“You said the other day that you’d never really checked out any Black women, besides celebrities.”
“Oh, geez fuckin’ Louise.” He slapped his forehead. “Here we go.”
“No, no, hear me out. That doesn’t upset me, I’m just curious. I haven’t dated a whole lot of White guys, either. I mean, I’ve dated a couple, but nothing real serious. I’ve mostly been with Black men so I’m in no position to judge. Have you ever dated Black women or was I the only one?”
“Are you serious? Hell yeah, I’ve dated and fucked Black women!” She burst out laughing and shook her head before turning back to look out the window. “My God, Egypt. I was fuckin’ eighteen and in a bubble when I left from home. All I knew was Dorchester. Life outside of here was a mystery to me. Well, with the exception of that one trip I took to Washington D.C. I was Masshole townie. Anyway, that was a long ass time ago. As soon as I got out to L.A. there were women out the fuckin’ wazoo, let me tell ya. I was in shock. They hadn’t seen many guys like me, and I hadn’t seen any women like them. They said I didn’t pronounce my R’s. Their vowels were too exaggerated. It was somethin’ new. Freshman year I definitely jumped in with both feet. My dick was worn the hell out.”
“Okay, I think I get the picture. That’s—”
“I never had it so good, and bein’ on the football team at UCLA? Bruins? Not the Boston Bruins – that woulda been a dream, you know. The UCLA Bruins… Geez! The snatch was bein’ thrown at me like confetti at a parade. I’ve had everything under the sun. International snatch, too. Pussy from Brazil, pussy from Japan, pussy from Russia, pussy from Italy and pussy from this little country called Malta. It’s between Sicily and the North African Coast.”
“I know where Malta is…”
“She was a real peach! Pussy from fuckin’ Peru, pussy from Philly, Detroit, Vegas… had a couple sisters, too. Not like Black chicks – actual sisters. Threesomes are overrated, but every once in a while, ya get lucky and it ain’t so bad.”
“TMI, sir. Tee. Em. Eye! You’re disgusting, and proud of it.” She rolled her eyes, hating how she found him a tad bit funny, all the same. “And UCLA is a great school, but the football team is lackluster,” she jabbed, feeling a bit petty.
“Yeah, yeah, whatever. I was one of tha best. Look up my record. It’s not the Bruins that are the problem, E. The problem is UCLA never had the same support as Trojan football has had. The talent is not in question, but if ya don’t have the backing you need, it won’t work out. And let me make somethin’ else crystal fuckin’ clear.”
“Oh, please do, Mr. Ho, Ho, Ho, ‘I’ve got Hos in Different Are
a Codes.’ You certainly are Ludacris.” She crossed her arms and glared at him.
“It’s not that I didn’t find Black girls attractive, all right? I don’t think I explained myself well the other day. It’s like I just wasn’t really payin’ attention because ya know, that’s just how it was.” The woman looked at him as if she didn’t understand one damn word that rolled out of his mouth. “It’s kinda like if ya didn’t think you’d enjoy string beans because you’d never had them and they weren’t served in your house. If that’s the case, when you go to a restaurant, ya wouldn’t look at the string beans on the menu, right? You’d scan right past them.” She nodded in understanding. “But once you had the fuckin’ string beans, and you found out the shit was tasty, then you were ordering the fuckin’ string beans a lot. You were a string bean eatin’ motherfucker.”
At this, she burst out laughing.
“You make me sorry I asked. Oh, look at that house, Jordan!” He slowed down at a house that was all aglow in a spectacular flashing Christmas light show, with music and all. Dancing elves decked out in red and green, prancing reindeers with gold bells around their necks, festive pinwheels that spun like amusement rides and glossy candy canes in vibrant red and white. On the roof of the house were flashing lights spelling cheerful words for the season. ‘Noel,’ ‘Joy,’ and ‘Peace.’ He watched her watching the lights. The glow hit her face like stardust, illuminating her beauty for him to covet and enjoy.
Putting the car in park, he reached for her chin, wrapped his hand around the back of her neck, and leaned close … closer … until their lips touched. He slid his tongue in her mouth, and deepened their contact. She tasted like mint and cinnamon, smelled of expensive perfume, and felt soft and warm. He moaned, unable to control himself as he caressed a supple breast over her sweater, and squeezed. She vibrated against him, her sighs of pleasure compelling him to keep going. He soon felt her arms wrap around him, holding on tight.
