Laugh Now

by Rahiem Brooks

  Out of curiosity, Toi asked, “How are we paying for this spree?”

  Kareem paused and grinned devilishly inside. We’re not, he thought as he prepared his lie. He hated to lie to her, but he was aware that men showed signs of weakness when they brought their villainous-street behavior home. He told her, “My dad left over...well the amount is not important...but the money was for my college fund. As you know I had a full scholarship, so I am using that money to buy whatever you and I want.”

  “What ever I want?” she asked and snuggled up to him. She kissed his ear lobe and whispered into his ear, “Are you sure?”

  He shifted his head and let his lips touch hers. “You can have anything,” he told her, before he kissed her salaciously.

  When he released her, she tapped on the limo driver’s window. “Take us to Burberry.”

  ***

  Several hours later, at six-thirty Kareem and Toi returned to the hotel room for a candle lit dinner. They had the limo driver stop them at a movie shop and they bought Love Don’t Cost a Thing and You Got Served.

  They ate dinner and reflected on their relationship, and where they saw themselves in the years to come. They set goals and time tables to complete them. That was their favorite pass time.

  Toi had become tired and preferred to stay in and not go out to any clubs. Kareem was fine with that, because he did not want to run into Erin, or any other chicks that he flirted with the night before.

  After getting comfortable, they shared ice cream, which they fed each other. Toi had her head rested on his chest, dressed in a Fredericks of Hollywood nightie. They watched a movie and cuddled.

  Midway through the movie, Kareem caressed Toi softly. She emoted, relishing the moment. She looked up into his eyes and a look of passion and emotion forced her to move up to kiss his lips.

  Softly.

  Her kissed progressed and became forceful and aggressive. He perceived, her kisses indicated how she wanted to be made love to. She was ready to lose her virginity, right there in LA. Kareem thought strange things only happened in Vegas. He turned off the TV and turned on The Beat, the urban station. Slow jams played, mellowing the mood another notch.

  On his way back to the bed, Kareem lost his boxers along the way. Back on the bed, he pulled Toi’s nightie over her head. He removed her bra and then planted soft kisses upon her breasts. Just as anxious, Toi removed her panties and climbed on top of Kareem. The two kissed intensely. He wanted to slide his pistol up into her badly, but he did not want to appear fiendish, or rush her. This was her special moment.

  Exhibiting her lust, she grabbed his manhood and attempted to sit down on it. He watched the pain shoot across her face. Her face was twisted with horror, and her body shivered. She released an anguished groan, sprang to her feet, and threw herself on the bed. He grabbed her tightly. Planted kisses down her midsection until he reached her wet spot. He kissed it a few times and led himself to believe that, he kissed it to make it feel better. For the moment, because he was finishing the job. He wanted things to be just right for her first time. After, he had given her the first oral orgasm of her life. She pulled his head up, and whispered, “Fuck me, Reem.”

  He wrapped her legs around his waist, and told her to entwine her feet together and rest them on his back. “I’mma put the head in and then you use your feet to pull me in deeper. As much as you want.”

  She shook her head up and down, as she stared at him. When he entered her, she sighed, but did not make an attempt to pull him in deeper. He took it upon himself and slowly entered deeper and deeper into her, not pulling out.

  When his waist was nearly rested against hers, she told him to, “Stop.” Her arms wrapped tight around his back, and she told him, “It hurts so badly, Reem, but it feels good, too. And I want to do it.”

  He pulled out and told her, “You have to relax baby. You’re going to open up. This pain is going to go away. I promise.” I’m tryinna beat this thing up. You are long the fuck over due.

  She gained her composure and decided that she wanted to make her man happy. She grabbed his dick and felt it. Ran her hand across the length, and told herself, I can take all this. She gained control, and garnered courage to guide him into her. She couldn’t believe how wet that she was. She knew what it felt like moments earlier when he had made her orgasm and she wanted to please him the same way.

  R. Kelly’s The Greatest Sex blasted through the radio and Kareem whispered the lyrics into her ear. Affectionately, she grabbed his ass and slowly pulled him further into her. She let out a subtle moan. And then another. Biting on his neck, lightly. She was determined to give him something to remember.

  She convinced herself that the difficult part was over and gained the nerve to endure the pleasurable pain. She boldly winded her hips slowly to meet his grinding thrusts. She continued to grind after he remained still to let her get it all by herself. “That’s all you, Toi,” he said, looking deeply into her eyes, and sexually bit his bottom lip.

  She appeared to be comfortable, so he slowly pulled out of her—up to the head—and then plunged his entire piece into her. He was mesmerized by how deep and wet that she was. He entered her deeper and harder. He felt his dick head tap on her deepest wall. Her cherry, he thought. Toi was no longer a virgin, after Kareem made his way through that.

  Forty-five minutes worth of intimate strokes later, Toi pumped harder and pulled Kareem deeper into her. He felt her body shiver, and knew that she had climaxed a second time. He rushed and plowed into her and they came together.

  PART THREE

  AUGUST 2005 (Two Summers Later)

  CHAPTER 39

  Toi sat at a cozy table for two at Justin’s, P. Diddy’s upscale restaurant in New York City. Kareem had her meet him there for their weekly Wednesday “Hump Day” lunch date. After she waited twenty minutes, Toi felt agitated and lost her urge to be around Kareem. Although, she worked at a high-end home décor retailer, she relentlessly complained about Kareem’s work habits. She worked on the debut interior design line, but had doubts that she would be in Kareem’s life to debut it with his clothing line.

  Another ten minutes rolled by and Toi snatched her cell phone off the table to call her mother.

  “Toi, baby, what’s wrong,” her mother asked, having read her daughter’s mood.

  “I’m stressed.”

  “Stressed from what, Latoya?”

  “Mom, I do not know exactly. Kareem!”

  “Please do not tell me Kareem’s busy schedule is the

  problem, again. Baby, he loves you, and you have not given me reason to think otherwise. You better grow up before you loose a good man. There ain’t many.”

  “Excuse me! A good man for whom, mom? You or I? I have to live with robot man. Not you.”

  “He’s a robot because he is a hard worker. You silly little girl. I have raised you better. He is making a way for you two to live forever. Don’t you dare blow it.”

  “Blow it? Listen, I better talk to you later.” Toi stared up at the ceiling, desperately attempting to prevent the tears from falling.

  Moments later a tall, brown-skinned man approached her. She gathered herself when the man helped himself to a seat at her table.

  The strange man said to her, “Excuse me, beautiful, but why the long face?”

  “Can you excuse yourself? My boyfriend will be here any minute now.” She was polite, but wanted to get to the point.

  “Damn, do not be so mean. Is he the problem?”

  “Gee, you’re right,” she said sarcastically. “So, like him, and other men, you would never understand.”

  “I would over-stand, try me. I am a good listener.” He did not want to lose the opportunity to talk to her.

  “You’re a stranger and I seriously doubt that you can effectively advise me. Besides you do not even know me.”

  “Come on. Psych’s do it every day.”

  “Yeah, they take at least a half hour to hear a client’s past, prior to helping them. My
boyfriend, as I said, should be here any minute now, so we hardly have time for that.”

  “I think that he’s the problem. Stood you up, huh? Probably the second time, too. You have been here forty-five minutes alone.”

  “We will be fine. Just need to iron some things out.”

  “You should iron him right out your life. But good luck though. Retouch your lipstick, sexy.”

  Toi pulled out her lipstick and hit her lips. Before she could put it into her purse, he lightly grabbed her hand and took her lipstick from her. He then used it to write his number and name on a napkin.

  “Call me, if you ever want to talk over lunch. I promise not to be late. Or stand you up, like you’re boyfriend.” He simply left the table, without allowing her to respond.

  “Uh, Shimir,” she called out, having learned his name from the napkin. “I doubt that I ever call you.”

  “Your loss,” he said, and continued away from the table. He was the prize.

  Toi slipped the number into her pocket as Kareem looked at her. She had no idea that he was in disbelief. He stood at the host station and watched her interaction with Shimir. He calmed down. Maybe she knew him.

  Kareem approached her and she did not stand to hug him as usual. He became further pissed.

  “Toi, I was trapped in a crazy traffic jam and New York’s finest stopped me, for using my cell phone without an ear- piece. I was tryinna call you.”

  Toi looked at him, as if she didn’t give a damn. Kareem knew how to get words out of her, though.

  “You were not silent when that pariah was all up in your face.” Kareem was mad, and she knew it.

  She was equally mad, but she was ready to talk, since he attacked her. “He’s an after thought. Don’t go there.”

  “Do you have his number?”

  “No, boy—”

  “Man!” Kareem had to correct her. He had long ago

  stopped being a boy. “So, you knew that clown?”

  “Look, it doesn’t matter. What, I can’t have a conversation with a damn man? I did not come here to be harassed by your dumb ass.” She stood and headed to the exit. “Urghh, you irk the shit out of me.”

  Kareem sat there stunned. He watched her walk out the door. Knowing, he could not let her leave without chasing her, he pounded his hand on the table. Other patrons looked. He went into his wallet and threw $50 on the table and told the maitre d’, “Excuse me, this will never happen again. Here is my card. Contact me if there are any charges that need to be settled.” The maitre d’ smiled as Kareem ran after Toi.

  Kareem had graduated from Columbia U last summer, and he put in four days a week at GQ, which was largely responsible for helping him launch his line. His GQ contacts enabled him to schmooze with manufacturers and distributors who wanted to mass produce his line. He planned to use them, but he had contingency plans, too. To cut the first-year over head, he had been searching for a foreign warehouse to manufacture his line. Now, he had to chase after his woman. Had he not, she would have complained that he did not chase her because, he did not love her. What the fuck, I don’t have time for this bullshit.

  CHAPTER 40

  Under the restaurant canopy, he looked both ways like a second grader crossing the street alone. He spotted her red blouse, and then dashed behind her.

  He caught up to her, but she continued walking. “Toi, please stop walking.” He knew that she was wrong, but he remained in control. The man of the house. He was pissed that she kept walking, and common sense compelled him not to choke her. “Toi!” He yelled. He gave himself a second to calm down and then he spoke in a refrained tone. “I cannot believe that you would walk out on me in the middle of a packed restaurant. You whine about the dumbest things, and I do not deserve this bullshit! I refuse to fail, so I work hard. Better yet, I can’t fail. I’ve made it too far and sacrificed too much. You know that. In a year or two, an antic like that would make it out of the mouths of bitches like, Wendy Williams. I ain’t going for this drama, Latoya.” He stopped talking because, she had not paid him any attention.

  “All you worry about is your image. What about me? Fuck you and your image, nigga.”

  Kareem could not believe that she had flagged a taxi and hopped in. He stood in front of the taxi, preventing it from pulling off. “Toi don’t leave me here, or you better have this mutha fucka take you to Amtrak, to get you on a one way ride to your mom’s.”

  She ignored him He moved out the way, and she rolled away.

  Kareem trekked to his car and sat in it. He loosened his tie and tossed it in the back seat. He thought of their few arguments. They were mild and he usually controlled how they elevated. He was mature, and he found it beneath him to argue with a woman. He had too much confidence. A lot of swagger.

  He went into his trunk and put in the R. Kelly Chocolate Factory CD. Back in the car, he played track three: I Will Never Leave.

  Kareem’s cell phone rang, and he ignored it. He was then chirped.

  “Kareem answer your phone.” It was Rhonda, his cousin, best friend, and confidante.”

  He picked up his phone on the second ring when she called back. “Cousin, what’s happening?”

  “Nothing, chillen. Just calling to let you know that I opened three corporate casino accounts.”

  “That’s good, baby girl. Let me get at you later.”

  After ten minutes of sulking, rather than cry his anger and misunderstanding out,

  Kareem bottled it up and drove to the Royal Theater to see “A Raisin in the Sun.”

  CHAPTER 41

  After the play, Kareem had his Play Bill signed by Phylicia Rashad. He drove up Madison Avenue to his loft, as he gathered his mettle to face Toi. He knew that he had to be canny with his words to her. This was, of course, if she was home. One thing was for sure: Kareem had not been the staunchest man, but his infidelity was clandestine.

  He parked, and entered the lobby of his building. He nodded to the doorman and checked his mailbox. It was full. Not the norm. Was Toi home? This entire conundrum arose because he was a hard worker. This is bullshit, he thought, as he rode the elevator to his floor. I don’t need this and I don’t deserve it.

  He opened his loft door, and found music playing. She was home, but why the Waiting to Exhale soundtrack? Is it that deep?

  With no sight of her, he went to the bedroom. There she lied on the bed flipping through an Essence magazine, singing along with the soundtrack. He sat his briefcase on the floor, hung up his blazer, and sat on his side of the bed. He searched for the words to say to her.

  He undressed, put on his robe, and then headed to the shower. Toi stalked behind him. He stopped abruptly, knowing that she was in pursuit, and she bumped into him. Now she blushed, after she had been making weird faces behind his back. She walked past him without words. Kareem grabbed her.

  “What the fuck is?” He stopped talking to refrain from using the epithet. “What is the problem, Toi?” He was serious and she did not see any of his usual charm.

  “You stopped, so I bumped into you,” she said, dumbfounded. “Sorry.” And she had an attitude.

  “Toi, Toi, Toi.” He let out a deep breath and shook his head in obvious disgust. “You know that I am not talking about you slamming into me, Latoya. You’re becoming more and more irrational. I thought your feelings of neglect would be short, and that we were past that? I must have been wrong.”

  Toi, determined to be obstinate, stared at him blinking her eyes uncontrollably to avoid tears. After no words and reflecting on her mother’s words, she fell back into the wall. Kareem watched her and became annoyed; he never thought that she would ignore him.

  She slid down the wall, and a tsunami of tears followed. “I’m sorry. So, sorry, Kareem,” Toi proclaimed, and broke down. On the floor, face in her palms, resting on her knees, she sobbed.

  Her sudden emotional change startled Kareem. He was confused. He knew that he worked hard, but she also had some guy’s number in her pants pocket. He sat next to
her, pulled her close to him and placed her head on his shoulder.

  “Don’t cry, baby. Please don’t cry.” He rocked side to side and patted her like a tyke.

  Moments later, she regained her composure and her outburst reduced to sniffing. She sat up and Kareem kneeled in front of her, and cleared her tears with his finger tips. He kissed her closed eyes, and then went down her cheeks, slipping his tongue into her mouth. He kissed her and they stood up slowly.

  She pulled away from him, “Kareem, I am so, sorr...”

  He pressed his lips to hers and squelched her. “Pretty, I work hard all for you. GQ, Chase, the gym, and the clothing line—all for you. You have nothing to worry about. I have a lifetime of fidelity just for a special lady. You! No need to explain your behavior. No need to apologize, just do not let this happen again.” His words were soft, albeit stern and she took him as meaning every syllable.

  He picked her up and carried her up to the loft. She was about to be erotically punished. And she deserved it for being a bad girl.

  CHAPTER 42

  Dre lived in New York, too, and had been a model citizen of the Big Apple, and loving father and fiancé. He purchased a four-bedroom in the Bronx and moved Tasha and Amare there. Tasha was a stay at home mom, while he attended New York University’s accounting certificate program. He also had transferred to a New York post office. Kareem received most of his credit cards from this office, where Dre stole them by the dozens. He also stole checks, Social Security cards, and bank statements.

  When Dre arrived to his duplex, around ten p.m., all he wanted was dinner and some love. Wednesday’s were hardest for him, because after work, he had to attend classes. When he walked into the door, he was greeted by Amare, who climbed slowly off the sofa and walked to Dre’s feet to be picked up. He yelled, “Honey, I’m home,” with a big grin on his face.

  Tasha walked out the kitchen and responded, “That was so Cliff Huxtable.”