Leftovers With Benefits: An Interracial Contemporary Romance

by C. L. Donley

  “You don’t know me,” she broke the news.

  “I do,” he insisted.

  “You don’t.”

  “I know we just made love to each other,” he said quietly. Her heart quickened speed, even while his words made her feel all squidgy. She tried to remember the last time she heard a man use those words.

  “Only because the ones we want to do it, won’t.”

  “Really,” he rolled over on his back, sounding exasperated.

  “Really.”

  “Why are you pushing me away?” he wondered aloud. “Should I treat you like shit?”

  Ah. The honeymoon was over already. A record, probably. Seems like as soon as a man got his pussy quota this was always the end result.

  “You’ve got a lotta fuckin’ nerve,” she shot back, feeling a bit sad that their relationship was about to become like all the rest.

  “You’re scared shitless,” he challenged.

  “The minute Becky waves her pinky, you’re gonna go crawling back,” she confirmed his suspicions, “so fuck you, and your stupid love.”

  Kevin lay quiet. Kenya continued to face the opposite direction.

  “Why would you say that?”

  “Because it’s true.”

  “He really did a number on you,” Kevin insisted.

  Kenya scoffed and said nothing for awhile. He wondered if she were asleep.

  “We don’t have a relationship,” she blurted.

  Kevin chuckled a little in disbelief. He’d never felt closer to a woman.

  “Your definition of relationship is much different than mine, then.”

  Finally she turned to face him, her dark eyes blazing and expressive.

  “We don’t talk about the future, we just talk about the past. We don’t even talk about ourselves, we just talk about them. And what they did to us.”

  “We talk about that because that’s who we are right now,” he defended his position. “And I’m saying I don’t want that anymore, I want to talk about you. I want to talk about us.”

  “Us.”

  “Let me take you out. Properly,” he offered. “Someplace nice.”

  Kenya could think of no immediate objections.

  “Fine.”

  “Not as friends,” he clarified.

  “As a date. I get it.”

  “No Voldermorts allowed to be discussed,” he set the rule.

  “I can do that. Can you?”

  “Hey, you talk about him just as much,” argued Kevin.

  “No, I don’t.”

  “You brought him up while you were… giving me oral,” he reminded her.

  Kenya squinted in doubt, searching the sensual memory.

  “No, I didn’t!”

  “You were talking about his PTSD.”

  “Yeah, but that—”

  “Counts,” Kevin insisted. “No more talking about ourselves in the context of them.”

  “Fine.”

  “Fine.”

  “Wanna do it again?”

  “Yes,” she objectively answered.

  Instantly she rolled on top of him and his long wiry hands clutched her back while they kissed and kissed.

  * * *

  The next day, Kenya was pleasantly distracted at work thinking about her upcoming date. Even though it wouldn’t be for another day and a half.

  While she was on break, Kenya noticed she’d received a call. It was from Cecil. She rolled her eyes and called him back, both with trepidation and curiosity.

  “Hello?” he answered.

  “Hey,” she said limply, the years of familiarity inescapably present.

  “Hey,” he returned, not needing to ask who it was. “I left some things in the garage. My uniforms, some other stuff,” he said.

  “Okay.”

  “Can I come by?”

  “Yeah, come on.”

  He paused, grinning.

  “You sound awfully chipper.”

  “I guess.”

  Cecil snickered.

  “What?”

  “I guess,” he parroted her.

  “What, you expected me to still be down in the fuckin’ dumps?”

  “So it’s true then?”

  “Is what true?”

  “You been fuckin’ Lindsey’s ex?”

  Kenya’s pulse quickened, feeling oddly exposed, resenting the way it sounded coming from him.

  “How would you even know some shit like that?”

  Cecil laughed his infectious laugh. Kenya’s vexation continued to grow.

  “You know what? Actually I’m busy this weekend,” she reneged spitefully.

  “Come on now, don’t be like that,” Cecil whined.

  “No, you know what? You don’t get to comment on my choices. Ever,” she answered sharply.

  “I’m not! It’s just… my God, Kenya. You ain’t gotta go through a woman’s trash.”

  He was doing that thing where he pretended to be lighthearted about something but he was really salty. Not only was she suddenly never happier to be free of him, she couldn’t resist digging at his underlying jealousy.

  “I didn’t go through shit; he came looking for me. I can’t help it Becky threw away a good one. Finders keepers.”

  “Dude must be parched,” he sniggered. She ignored the jab and sent him one of her own.

  “Not anymore,” she said.

  “Oh, it’s like that??” he chuckled, acting jovial. His charismatic way wrenched a smile from her lips. Dude was straight sociopathic. Nothing about the situation was amusing. It was 100% fucked up.

  “It is. Got me chill enough to have this triflin’ ass conversation.”

  “Oh, okay! Well. Good for you,” he said. His response had a warm, empathetic tone that Kenya was wary to trust.

  “I’m sure you were worried,” replied Kenya sarcastically.

  “I was. You got some good things about you, Kenya. But… if he can deal with the rest of it, then more power to him.”

  There is no ‘rest of it’ ‘cause he ain’t a hot mess, she wanted to say but didn’t.

  “Yeah, well. Ditto…” she said instead.

  “Well, I’ll be by there tomorrow,” he wrapped up the conversation.

  I hope you both slowly die eating each other’s heads off, she thought but didn’t say.

  “Cecil, do you and um…ol’ girl. Do you guys ever…talk about…us?”

  “Who, you and me?”

  “Yeah. Or does she bring up Kevin?”

  “No.”

  “No?”

  “Not even a little bit.”

  “Really?”

  “Shit is gross, Kenya,” Cecil insisted with conviction. “You gotta tie that shit off.”

  “Hate to say it, but I think you’re right,” Kenya replied.

  “Anyway, we’re… kind of on a break right now.”

  Kenya’s eyes went wide and her brow wrinkled until it almost broke.

  “Sorry, what?”

  Cecil gave an exasperated sigh.

  “Kenya I know you heard me, don’t make me repeat myself.”

  She chuckled and shook her head at the irony. “Wooooow. You are really something else.”

  “First of all, you can relax your horrible perception of me, because it was her decision, not mine.”

  Her accurate horrible perception remained in place, but she was genuinely surprised at that last piece of news.

  “So the chick that you left me for—”

  “If it wasn’t her, it would’ve been someone else, Kenya,” he answered callously. “Look, I didn’t call to start a fight, but of course you figured out a way…”

  Kenya had never felt happier to hear Cecil pelt her with judgments.

  She never realized more that they just were not right for each other. At all. He genuinely loved the chaos, while she wore herself out trying to stave it off. Why be angry?

  Since she was done being angry, she was also done working up apologies.

  “Fine. Fuck the whole city and g
et the clap,” Kenya said.

  “Thanks, maybe I will.”

  “Be the old dude at the club. Fuck white chicks til your credit hits 800. Drink kombucha. Eat sprouts.”

  “Bitch, I know you ain’t bringin’ up white people, white as your lil’ boyfriend is. You fidna go hikin’ ain’t you? It’s about time, you could use it.”

  “Wait, wait, wait, what about the…” Kenya hesitated.

  Did she really want to bring up this whole baby thing to him? Was it even appropriate?

  “What?” he prompted her while she was in her thoughts.

  Leave it, she thought in her brain. Not your life, not your business. Or your problem.

  “Never mind,” she dismissed. “If I’m not home the key’s in the pot,” she said and hung up the phone.

  * * *

  Kevin rummaged through his closet, looking for the jewelry box that Lindsay had bought him for their anniversary. Tonight he was busting out the cufflinks.

  He was taking Kenya out. Properly. And he was determined to show her a good time. She kept texting him her outfit choices. Each time he would smile and say they were perfect.

  “Wear the blue, we’ll match,” he texted her.

  He was in the middle of the reply when he heard a sound downstairs that sounded an awful lot like a knock on the door.

  He froze, waiting to hear the sound again. He did. This time it was fainter, but longer, more intentional.

  He wrinkled his brow, squinting as he smirked.

  What was Kenya up to? Was she playing a trick on him?

  When he opened it, he felt pukey and fearful, as though looking into the eyes of a hallucination.

  The color drained from his face as Lindsey stood before him in her beige cashmere peacoat and scarf, holding her arms at the elbows. Her hair was a bit shorter and perfectly in place, her steely blue eyes pleading, the tip of her pixie nose reddened.

  “Lindsey?”

  “Kevin… hi.”

  Lindsey instantly started to break down.

  He marveled at the sight of her. At the significantly lower effect she had on him overall. Her presence frankly annoyed him.

  Still. He didn’t like seeing her cry. Especially if someone else was the culprit.

  She noticed he was wearing a crisp dress shirt and he was growing his hair out longer. Like when they met and it curled along his neck and at the top of his ears. She hastily dabbed her eyes, attempting composure.

  “Is this a bad time?” she asked.

  Instinctively he kept his plans for the night to himself.

  “Don’t worry about it. Come in.”

  She discarded her peacoat and scarf on the loveseat and the sight took him aback.

  Lindsey was showing a bit by now, he could tell. She walked in the house she’d decorated and sat on the couch.

  “What are you doing here?” he said.

  “Well, there’s no easy way to say this, so I’m just going to say it.”

  “Okay.”

  “I’m pregnant.”

  “I know,” he replied. Lindsey wrinkled her brow.

  “You do? How?”

  “Well, I’m looking at you, for one” Kevin began, “but I knew already. Did some Webster stalking,” he said, leaving Kenya out of it.

  “Ah.”

  “Not sure what all this has to do with me.”

  “The baby’s yours,” she sighed.

  Kevin blinked.

  “I…” Kevin’s brain was in a million pieces. “Are you sure?”

  “Yes, I’m sure,” Lindsey said, sounding offended.

  “Sorry, I’m just trying to process this,” he flopped down on the couch next to her. “I mean… are you sure?” he repeated again. “We were careful.”

  “Not always. I was always careful with Cecil,” she emphasized, her eyes wide and looking straight ahead at the tv, “which is why I’m confused.”

  “So you’ve had this suspicion for awhile.”

  “That stupid weekend in Vegas. I should’ve never let you… We were dead in the water. I should’ve never let you talk me into that,” she closed her eyes regretfully. “When they told me how far along I was, I wanted to throw up. It didn’t add up. I just wanted it not to be real.”

  Jesus, tell me how you really feel, Lindsey.

  “Keeping this a secret must be eating you alive,” he said.

  Lindsey looked at him, offended.

  “Actually I told Cecil. Right away.”

  As if he hadn’t figured it out, he thought. “And what did he say?”

  Her look turned into a glare.

  “What do you think he said?”

  “I have no idea. That’s why I asked.”

  Lindsey slowly got up off the couch and looked directly at him, adopting a threatening posture.

  “You have ruined my life… so thoroughly. I wish to God I’d never met you.”

  The words stung a bit, but something about her demeanor rung hollow.

  “Well, the feeling’s mutual, but unfortunately we now have a child to raise,” he replied.

  “'We?’”

  “Yes,” he said emphatically. “However we feel about each other, I intend to be a father to my kid, Lindsey.”

  “Do you mean that?”

  “Of course.”

  Lindsey breathed a sigh that became sobs. She turned slightly as though trying to pull it together, even though she didn’t want to cry in front of him but she’d literally cried a moment earlier on the doorstep. He watched awkwardly as she carried on, Kevin sitting stoically on the couch.

  “I signed the papers. Did you get them?” he broke in.

  What was his deal, she thought? He was being so cold. How could he bring up divorce at a time like this? She nodded.

  “Yes,” she said.

  She ventured an olive branch.

  “I don’t suppose you could meet me at my next doctor’s appointment?”

  “Sure. Let me know the day.”

  She relinquished another breath as her shoulders shrugged.

  “I apologize. You haven’t ruined my life. My hormones are all over the place. Cecil and I are… I’m staying with my parents.”

  “It’s okay. I’m sorry our marriage got in the way of your happiness,” he said, mostly sarcastically.

  Lindsey giving him a burning look as she breathed through her nostrils. She shook her head and laughed incredulous.

  Okay. This was going to be a nightmare.

  She wordlessly put her coat back on, gathered her things and walked towards the front door.

  “I missed you,” he offered, not looking up as he sat on the couch.

  She stopped, bristling, but she took the comment for what it was.

  “I’m not here to reconcile or whatever,” she added, her eyes still on the door. “I think you know that. And I know you probably think I’m insane for even coming back here—”

  “I don’t.”

  “I didn’t really understand. What I did to you. How it must’ve felt. I do now. And I want you to know that I’m truly sorry. I wouldn’t wish this on anyone.”

  An apology.

  Was he in a dream? He’d never seen Lindsey so sober, so reasonable.

  Kevin felt a pain in his gut. Kenya had been right. Not only about her own husband, but about him.

  When she came back, he’d let Lindsey right in. Not romantically, but still. He felt an overwhelming pity for her.

  “I’m sorry. That that happened to you.”

  “Me too.”

  “If you ever need to talk. I’m here.”

  Lindsey nodded a bit and stared at the floor as she turned the knob, as if choking back emotion.

  “Thanks for opening the door… honestly I didn’t know if you’d be willing to see me or not.”

  “I didn’t know either.”

  And like that, she was gone again.

  Kevin sat in the quiet of his house, overwhelmed. In the quiet he noticed his phone warbling upstairs.

  Kenya
had sent him a picture of her hot comb, that looked more like an instrument of torture than a beauty product.

  “You better be worth it ;),” read her caption.

  Kevin put his phone down on the bathroom sink, hands shaking.

  He knew that he wasn’t.

  * * *

  Kenya switched on the light in her closet, parted the sea of clothes on hangers until she found the sleeveless navy blue dress.

  It’d been an unseasonably warm night, and the navy blue dress she most anticipated having the occasion to wear. It was now or never, she thought. The dress was tight and showed off her curves where it ruched, so her white wool granny sweater should balance it out.

  Her hair and makeup done, she gingerly placed the dress over her head and carefully adjusted her hair, hanging much longer now that it had been straightened. It was parted down the middle, Asian straight and thin as it lay well past her shoulders. It was already plenty shiny but she gave it another spritz, filling the bathroom with fog as she gave herself a look in the mirror. As she posed this way and that, her confidence grew. She smiled. Not as camera ready as she would’ve liked, but would still probably knock Kevin backwards. She’d already put more effort into this date than she wanted. It seemed she couldn’t help herself.

  It really had been awhile since she’d been out. There was a time when she couldn’t wait to dress up for Cecil, let him show her off at the Marine’s ball. “I got the hottest wife in here,” he used to brag. The memory turned to ash as she set it ablaze with her hindsight. He wasn’t saying it to make you feel good. That was about him. He could care less how you felt.

  Suddenly there was a knock at the door.

  Her heart shot to the moon.

  She smiled, grateful that Cecil hadn’t stolen it all.

  Her heels were at the entrance. She’d been frightened she would sprain her ankle at this precise moment. She stepped in her shoes and waited a few seconds to open the door, savoring the butterflies. They’d only lasted a day or two before they’d melted away with Cecil. She wasn’t sure why she was still feeling them with Kevin since they’d already had sex, but she welcomed them.

  When they were face to face she couldn’t stifle her smile as she studied his appearance, and his expression.

  He wore a beautiful blue suit, light blue shirt and pale yellow tie. His hair was perfectly slicked and combed, his hazel eyes popped and grew wide as if they needed more power to interpret the sight of her. Slowly they moved down her body. His eyebrows went up in surprise.