She was starting to piss me off. “I need to get a grip? Really, Stacy? Well, tell me something. How do you manage to keep your husband on such a short leash?”
“I manage because my relationship with Trevor is great. I make sure that his needs are met. I keep his belly full, and when he’s horny, I fulfill my wifely duties. Trevor knows that he doesn’t have to go out into the street to be told that he’s a handsome man, because I remind him of that every morning, before he leaves this house. And another thing, Rhapsody. A man doesn’t like to feel that his woman has her hand wrapped around his testicles. It wasn’t good for you to call Malcolm and leave that message, especially if he’s really not out there creepin’. And technically, he’s not your man. Leave him alone and let him breathe, because what you’re gonna end up doing is making him think that if you’re sweating him and accusing him all the time, then he may as well go ahead and cheat, because according to you, he’s already guilty.”
“Now, there is one thing that I love about Trevor. He makes me feel secure. When he leaves for work in the morning, he calls from his cell to complain about how bad the traffic is. Then he calls to let me know that he has made it to work safely. He calls home in between meetings and vents about what his boss is doing. He calls at lunchtime to thank me for puttin’ an extra Hostess Twinkie in his bag or for the little love note he found wrapped in his sandwich. Every day, at quitting time, Trevor calls to let me know that he’s on his way home and asks if he should stop at the convenient store or dry cleaners. And when he walks through the front door, he doesn’t leave out of it again until the next day.”
“Not that I care to know, but I know what Trevor is doing twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week. I’ve never had to ask him where he’s going or who he’s been with. Trevor knows all about my past relationship, so he takes it upon himself to keep my mind at ease. That’s what a good man does for his woman. I know that that doesn’t guarantee that Trevor isn’t cheating, but I will say this. When he’s not beside me, he’s on the telephone, talkin’ to me. If he can screw a chick and hold a lengthy conversation with me at the same time, then he’s a bad boy. And another thing. If Trevor is messing around, then she must be paying for their escapades and buying her own furs and jewelry, because Trevor puts his paycheck, uncashed, in my hand every other Friday. If there comes a time when that changes, then we’ll have a problem.”
“Now, I’ve said all of that to say this, Rhapsody. My relationship is tight. Trevor is a married man with a four-month-old daughter. He has responsibilities. He lived his life in the fast lane years ago. Malcolm, on the other hand, is twenty-one years old. He’s just starting to see what life is all about. He probably hasn’t even had his heart broken yet. He’s young, energetic, and full of spunk. It will be impossible for you to tame him and put him on lockdown. And trying to take ten years off your life to become one of his peers is even more ridiculous. So, I’ll say this in a way that you, Rhapsody, can understand. Malcolm’s dangalang is not made of platinum.”
I had taken to heart everything Anastasia had said to me and I was beginning to let it sink down in my soul until she made that last statement. It was obvious that Trevor had never put it on her the way Malcolm had put it on me last night. “See, that’s where you’re wrong, Stacy. Malcolm’s dangalang has been dipped in platinum, and there are diamond solitaires surrounding the base of it.”
I guess what I had just said shocked the heck out of her, ’cause she just glared at me, then stood and went back to the stove.
“You ain’t got nothing to say?” I asked her.
“Nope, not a thang,” Anastasia answered. Then, without turning around, she said, “Do yo’ thang.”
Chapter 9
After eating dinner, I hopped back in my car and arrived home at a quarter to nine. I had had a good time with Anastasia and Trevor. From the moment he’d walked in the front door, she had been all over him, like he’d been gone for months.
I’d loved the look on Anastasia’s face when Trevor presented her with a dozen white roses. I’d asked him what the occasion was, and he’d told me that there was no occasion, and that just because it was Tuesday, Anastasia got flowers. That had messed me up. Was it possible for me to be happy for Anastasia and jealous of her at the same time?
I was having strong mixed emotions. I ain’t never had a man buy me flowers just because it was Tuesday or Wednesday or any other day of the week. I remembered a time when I was at the Taste of Chicago with a guy I was dating. His name was Braxton. We were walking and eating when I saw a woman selling long-stemmed lilies. I asked Braxton to buy one for me. He looked at me and said, “For what? It ain’t your birthday.” Braxton was a trifling, cheap bastard if I ever saw one. I guessed it had slipped his mind that I had paid for those darn tickets we were redeeming to eat with. And everybody knew that if you wanted to eat good at the Taste of Chicago, you were gonna spend plenty of money.
I wasn’t hating on Anastasia; she was my girl. But I wondered when a Trevor would come into my life. After we had eaten, the three of us had sat in the living room and had chatted. By that time Chantal had woken up and was ready to eat. I sat my jealous self in the La-Z-Boy recliner and watched Anastasia cradle her baby girl and breast-feed her. Trevor sat next to his wife on the love seat, with his arm around her shoulders, and caressed Chantal’s head with his other hand. Both mother and father were making cooing noises as Chantal nursed.
My presence had been long forgotten. Since that was obviously a family moment, I decided to leave them to their private time. I thanked my best friend for dinner and kissed her cheek; then I knelt down to kiss Chantal’s forehead. Trevor walked me to the door and opened it for me. He told me how good it was to see me and that he was glad that I had stopped by. He then reached for the vase on the cocktail table, where Anastasia had sat her beautiful bouquet, and pulled a single white rose from it and gave it to me. I looked at Anastasia, who was smiling at me, and then I looked at Trevor and asked what the rose was for.
He said, “You make my wife smile, so you get a rose.”
Trevor walked me outside, all the way to my car, and opened the door for me. Once I had secured my seat belt, he kissed my cheek lightly and told me to be careful. “Make sure you call us when you get home so we’ll know you made it safely.”
Trevor shut my door and stood on the curb as I drove away. In my rearview mirror, I saw him still standing on the curb, watching until my car was out of sight. I wanted a real man so bad.
Even after Anastasia tried to talk some sense into my brain, I was still pissed because Malcolm hadn’t rung my telephone. I knew he must’ve gotten my message by then. Maybe Anastasia was right. I should’ve just left Malcolm alone and gone back to living my boring life.
I had sworn off men five years ago, when I found out that Jerome, the man I was engaged to, was the father of my cousin Cherelle’s baby. Cherelle was my father’s brother’s daughter. My first cousin. Ain’t that a trip? I should’ve figured something was going on when Cherelle, Jerome, and I stopped hanging out together as much as we used to. When Cherelle’s belly started to show, she would often tell me that two was company and three was a crowd. So she opted to stay at home when Jerome and I went out.
And funny little things started happening when we were all in the same room, like Jerome and Cherelle not saying anything to one another or purposely not looking at each other. Folks did that when they didn’t wanna be found out. But, hey, I knew I had to be trippin’, cause Cherelle and I had grown up together. We were the same age and were as close as sisters. Jerome and I had been together for about eight months, and we’d never really had any problems, so I thought our relationship was solid. Humph. I was in for a rude awakening, because when Cherelle’s baby boy was born, she named him Michael Jerome Blue.
When Cherelle first told me that she had given her son my man’s name, I was uncomfortable with it. But she explained how special Jerome and I were to her and how we were really the only friends she had. A
nd since her baby’s daddy was unknown, even to me, Cherelle said she felt the closest to Jerome. She assured me that if her baby had been a girl, she would’ve named her Rhapsody.
Well, a month went by, and baby Michael got sick and needed blood. It was 3:00 a.m., and my entire family was in the emergency room at Advocate Christ Medical Center in Oak Lawn. It was funny how out of all my uncles, aunts, first cousins, and grandparents, no one matched baby Michael’s blood type. So, we were all sitting in the waiting room, praying for a miracle and trying to figure out which long-distance cousin we could call at three in the morning to come and get tested for blood, when I looked up and saw Jerome walking through the sliding glass doors.
I jumped up to hug him and thank him for coming, because I knew he’d want to be there for Cherelle and baby Michael, but then I thought about something. I hadn’t called Jerome, so who had? All the attention was on baby Michael. Who would take time out and call my man? And the way he hugged me was way off. Jerome had always pulled me close to him and kissed my forehead, but that time the hug wasn’t tight, and there was no kiss. I looked into his eyes and was on the verge of asking him what he was doing at the medical center when his eyes answered my question before I even got the first word out.
He was as nervous as heck, and I knew why. Jerome had been screwing around with Cherelle all that time right under my nose. Michael Jerome Blue was my man’s son. Well, after I went off on Jerome and caused a scene, and after I threatened to whup Cherelle’s behind the minute she stepped foot out of the nursery, I was thrown out of the medical center. It turned out that Jerome’s blood was an exact match for baby Michael’s.
It had been five years since I’d seen or heard from Cherelle or Jerome. My mother had told me that he married Cherelle, but she divorced him after only eight months because she found out that at the same time she was in the hospital, delivering baby Michael, Jerome had another son being born at Rush University Medical Center. He was named Jerome too. So, while Cherelle and Jerome were playing me, he was playing both of us.
Mama Lerlean used to always tell my brothers and me that what went around came back around. I guessed Cherelle got what was coming to her. I didn’t really care about Jerome, because he was only a man and they were a dime a dozen, but Cherelle was my blood, and she should have known better.
I hadn’t had a committed relationship since. But I missed the sex I had had with Jerome. That was when I entered my promiscuous years. I allowed myself to accept booty calls at the midnight hour. Truth be told, I was addicted to sex and had been for a long while. I thought about it morning, noon, and night. I really believed that because Lerlean had had such a tight grip on me when I was living at home, I got buck wild when I got on my own. I was like a sheltered kid going off to college. I lost my doggone mind when I got out into the real world. Sex, sex, and more sex had become my life. Hundreds of men had passed through my bedroom. If my walls could talk, they’d probably nominate me to be listed in The Guinness Book of World Records for the girl who had had the most sexual partners.
I attended Spelman College, an all-female school, and it was directly across the street from Morehouse, an all-male school. My mother chose the college I attended. Neither I nor my father had a say-so in the matter. I completed grades one through eight at a public grammar school. And my mother didn’t have a problem with that. I guess she thought she’d lose her tight grip on my vajayjay if I went to a co-ed college. And even though I went to a women’s college, that was exactly what happened. When I learned that pectorals and six-packs were just a stone’s throw away, and I could see them come and go from my dorm room window, I lost my mind.
I was like a kid in a candy store when I went to my first frat party. The testosterone was thick in the air, and it smelled heavenly. Red plastic cups filled with alcohol were unlimited. I lost my virginity to the first boy who asked what my name was. There was no curfew in college. No one was watching me. For the first time in my life, I was free from Lerlean’s prying eyes and her lectures. I became addicted to sex in my freshman year of college and had been addicted ever since. I just loved to screw. At times it didn’t even matter who the man was. As long as he had a condom in his pocket, we were good to go.
In my bedroom I pressed the PLAY button on the answering machine, which sat on my nightstand, while I got undressed. Anastasia’s fried pork chops were heavy in my stomach, and I was ready to get into bed.
“Hey, sis. It’s Danny. You know Mom and Dad’s fortieth wedding anniversary is coming up. Walter and I thought it would be good if we gave them a surprise party. What do you think? Give me a call when you get in.” Beep.
“Hey, sis. It’s your big bro. What’s up? It’s almost nine o’clock. Where are you? I know you ain’t got a man keeping you busy, so what are you doing out of the house?”
I looked at the answering machine. “Shut up, Walter.”
“Listen, Danny and I want to do something special for Mom and Dad. Can you believe they lasted forty years? Call me.” Beep.
I hung my work uniform in the closet and went into the bathroom and inserted the plug in the tub and ran my bathwater. I didn’t return either of my brothers’ calls. Walter and Daniel were the cheapest men on the earth. Each and every time they decide to do something for our parents, they put the burden on me. Walter was a thirty-eight-year-old gynecologist, but he never seemed to have any money. Had he stopped inserting his dangalang in every vajayjay he examined and making babies, he would’ve been a rich man.
Daniel was thirty-six and was the CEO of Blue Construction Company. He was pulling in major bank, but he’d squeeze juice from a penny because he was extremely cheap. Every dime Daniel made went to the bank, and there was nothing wrong with that. But he could afford to take Antoinette, his girl of one year, to a nice fancy restaurant sometimes. Daniel’s idea of a date was pushing the ON DEMAND button on his remote control and purchasing a movie for $3.99 and ordering in a pizza. But, hey, if Antoinette didn’t have a problem with his cheap behind, then more power to her. There was no way I’d be spreading my legs for a CEO of any darn thang and not eat at Lawry’s steakhouse at least twice a month.
See, what Daniel and Walter wanted to do was have me make all the arrangements and book the hall for our parents’ vow renewal. Then they would put me in charge of the catering and make me send out the invitations, select the cake, and do everything else by myself. They figured that since I was a female, I would do a better job at planning a party. If I tried to get their opinion on something, they’d tell me to just go ahead and do what I wanted and we would split the cost three ways.
Well, that tactic didn’t work when I planned our parents’ thirty-fifth anniversary party. Daniel had a problem with the menu I selected, and Walter wasn’t pleased that I had invited our lesbian cousin, who brought along her wife. But had Walter taken the time to go over the guest list, like I had asked him to do, he would’ve known they were on the list. Who was he to judge, anyway? And if Daniel had gone with me to the food tasting, he would’ve known that I had selected roast beef instead of roasted chicken, which was what he wanted.
Then they had a problem with the cake I chose. I was the one making all the decisions, so I chose carrot cake. They wanted a vanilla cake. So since the two of them had their butts on their shoulders throughout the entire party, they decided that they weren’t going to give me what they owed me, which came to thirty-five hundred dollars. When they said they weren’t gonna to pay me their share, I cussed them out and didn’t speak to them for two months.
The distance between my brothers and me took a toll on my mother. Each day we didn’t speak to one another, Lerlean cried herself to sleep at night, and that upset my father. He called my brothers on a three-way and said, “I’m sick of listenin’ to your mother cry at night. If she develops an ulcer over this beef you have with your sister, I’m gonna put a cap in both of y’all’s behinds, so you better fix it.”
“But, Daddy, Rhapsody—”
“But nothin
g. Fix it, Walter, and fix it now.”
“Daddy, you don’t understand what—”
“Daniel, I don’t wanna hear nothin’ you gotta say. Just fix this with your sister.”
Three days later I received two separate money orders in the mail for $1,750.00 each. My brothers had reimbursed all my money. I loved my parents and would do anything for them, but I wasn’t going through that drama again.
I sat on my bed and lowered my head. I exhaled loudly. “Lord, I really need You to help me. I need You to make me a better person. I don’t wanna talk to my brothers, I’m jealous of my best friend’s life, and I fornicated last night. I know that eventually I’ll call Danny and Walter back, and I’m sure that I’ll learn to be happy for Anastasia, instead being envious of her. But with Malcolm, Lord, I’m gonna need for You to really help me with this situation. I know what I did was wrong, and I’m sorry for giving in to the lust of my flesh. I promise, Jesus, not to mess with him no more. I need You to keep me.”
Before I got in the tub, I called Anastasia’s. Trevor answered on the first ring.
“She and the baby are asleep, Rhapsody, but I’m glad you made it home safely.”
“Okay, Trevor. I’ll call her in the morning.”
After speaking with Trevor, I soaked in the tub for forty-five minutes. When the water got too chilly for me to stay in any longer, and my fingers and toes were white and wrinkled enough, I drained the tub and got out. I rubbed Johnson’s baby oil on every inch of my body; then I stood at the sink and brushed my teeth. I heard the telephone ring and thought it was my brothers calling again. I went into my bedroom to answer the telephone on my nightstand. I saw ANONYMOUS on the caller ID. I decided not to answer, because anonymous calls were usually bill collectors, and I had plenty of overdue bills. Then I changed my mind and grabbed the receiver just before the voice mail picked up the call.
The Ugly Side of Me Page 6
