The Ugly Side of Me

by Nikita Lynnette Nichols

  I heard him excuse himself from wherever he was. “What are you talking about?”

  “I have three weeks of vacation time, and I’m taking one of them starting tomorrow.”

  “Rhapsody, you know the procedure for taking vacation time. You have to submit a request in writing at least one month prior.”

  “Apparently, you’ve misunderstood the purpose of my call, Mr. Duncan. I’m not asking for your permission. This is a courtesy call. I’m telling you what I’m going to do.”

  “I don’t have anyone lined up to take your place.”

  I almost told him that I didn’t care, but I held my piece. “I’m sure you’ll figure something out. I ran this office all by myself while you were gone all last week. If I can do it, you can do it. Heck, you’re the boss, not me.”

  “If that’s the case, why are you telling me what you are and are not doing? I’m gonna have to write you up, because you’re in violation of the rules.”

  I spoke very calmly to him. “Mr. Duncan, you can write me up, mail me up, or do whatever kinda up you wanna do. Oh, and I’m leaving at two o’clock today ’cause I got stuff to do.”

  “Two o’clock? You can’t leave that early. Somebody has to be there to answer the phones.”

  “Then I suggest you hightail your behind back here, ’cause when this time clock strikes two, I’m out.”

  Without waiting for a response from him, I hung up the telephone. I did realize that I might not have a job when I returned from Cancún, but to be quite honest, I really didn’t care.

  “Hey, sweetness.”

  I turned around to see Willie Boston standing in the doorway.

  “Good morning, Willie. What are you doing here?”

  “I stopped by to see if you needed any more money.”

  “How much money you got?”

  “How much do you want?”

  I wondered if I could break even and have Willie cover what I had spent for Mexico. “About seven hundred dollars.”

  Willie pulled a wad of one-hundred-dollar bills from the front pocket of his work uniform pants. He unfolded seven of them and laid them on the table nearest him. I walked over to Willie, pulled him farther into the office, closed the door behind him, and locked us in. I picked up the money from the table and verified the amount. I folded the seven bills and placed them in my right bra cup.

  “Of course, for this kind of money, the stakes are high,” Willie said to me.

  I closed the vertical blinds and let Willie have his way with me. When we were done, he said, “What will you let me do for a grand?”

  “Do you have a grand?” Some extra spending money for Cancún would be great.

  “I will in two weeks.”

  “Then come back in two weeks and find out.”

  Chapter 36

  At four fifteen on Friday morning, Malcolm and I stood at the counter at Southwest Airlines. I gave the young clerk our passports. She took the documents from me but spoke to Malcolm, who was standing next to me.

  “So, you’re going to Cancún?”

  “Yeah,” he answered.

  After comparing our names, she began to check our baggage, while at the same time admiring Malcolm’s pectorals, which were bulging through his white tank top. “The weather is real hot down there, so be sure to use plenty of sunscreen.”

  This broad was acting as though I was invisible. She kept talking to Malcolm as she placed our baggage on the conveyor belt to be loaded onto our plane. “I wonder if it ever snows in Africa,” she said directly to his chest.

  I snapped at her, “What the heck are you talkin’ about Africa for? Who gives a darn about snow in Africa? Just check the bags and shut up!”

  The big-eyed broad got scared and didn’t say another word.

  Malcolm looked at me and shook his head from side to side. “Rhapsody, must you act a fool everywhere you go?” he asked as we walked toward the boarding gate.

  “She was flirting with you. What do we care about snow in Africa? We’re going to Mexico.”

  “She was just doing her job.”

  “Well, she needs to learn how to do it with her mouth shut.”

  “I know you ain’t jealous of a li’l white woman, are you?”

  “I don’t give a rat’s behind if she was orange. She talks too much. I started to hit that ho right in the top of her head.” I stopped walking and looked at him. “And let me tell you one thang, Malcolm. Don’t let me catch you looking at the bikinis in Mexico. You keep your focus on me.”

  “I can’t make any promises about that,” he said. “My grandmother was a churchgoing woman, and she used to say that my grandfather had the spirit of the wandering eye. It could be hereditary.”

  “Oh, yeah? Well, I got the spirit of crazy. Now, you can get to Mexico and piss me off if you want to. I will clown on you and those skinny, thong-wearing broads so bad, the governor of Mexico will have us banned from the country forever.”

  I saw the pure white sand and the turquoise-blue water as we flew over the resorts along the Caribbean Sea. Malcolm had fallen asleep during the four-and-a-half-hour plane ride to Cancún. I tapped him on the shoulder to show him the view from the air. We saw folks Jet Skiing and parasailing.

  “Wow! I can’t wait to Jet Ski,” Malcolm said excitedly. “You’re gonna roll with me, baby?”

  I turned my nose up. “Heck, no.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because I can’t swim.”

  “Put on a life jacket. You’ll be all right.”

  “Malcolm, I’m not getting on a Jet Ski.”

  “Well, can we at least go parasailing?”

  “I’m pregnant. I can’t be doing all that crazy stuff. Why can’t we just have a fun, relaxing time on the beach?”

  “I don’t have a problem with that, but there’s more to do than just lying on the beach all day.”

  “Of course there is. We can get massages and facials.”

  A frown appeared on his face. “Massages and facials? That’s women’s stuff. What about horseback riding and snorkeling?”

  He made me feel really old. I should’ve known that I couldn’t tame a twenty-one-year-old, especially in a city like Cancún. “Horseback riding is dangerous for a pregnant woman, Malcolm, and snorkeling is out because I don’t like water in my face.”

  He sat back in his seat and sighed. “What did you bring me here for? We may as well have stayed in Chicago since you don’t wanna do nothin’.”

  “Caribe Real is a five-star hotel. I’m sure there will be plenty to do.”

  He didn’t say another word. Five minutes later, our plane touched down at the airport in Cancún, Mexico.

  After we collected our luggage, we stepped outside the airport and were greeted by a Mexican man wearing a light blue Hawaiian shirt. He stood next to a van and held up a sign that read TRANSFER TO CARIBE REAL RESORT. He loaded our luggage in the back, and Malcolm and I climbed in the van with four other couples who were staying at our resort. Everyone introduced themselves, and we settled in for the twenty-minute ride.

  The hotel was absolutely beautiful, and the interior of the lobby took my breath away. Because the weather in Mexico was fair all year long, there were no doors. A huge open archway welcomed us. Mauve-colored tiles decorated the floors and walls. To the immediate left of the entryway was a stage area, where a band played music and a pretty dark-haired lady sang a welcoming song in Spanish. We didn’t know what the heck she was saying. Whether she was singing “Welcome to Caribe Real” or “Here come the niggas,” we didn’t know. Malcolm and I were there to have a ball. We left our bags with the bellboy and walked to the concierge at the check-in counter.

  “Hola, señorita. Hola, señor.” A tall Mexican man wearing a white shirt with palm trees on it greeted us. I could tell his smile was forced. I looked at another man and two women who were behind the counter, wearing the same shirt and checking folks in, and saw that their smiles were forced too.

  Malcolm responded, “Hola.�
��

  “Hola,” I said and informed him of who we were. He checked our reservations and then gave us two key cards, along with a list of the restaurants at the resort. After putting red rubber wristbands on our wrists, which signaled that we had an all-inclusive package, he gave us a map of the huge hotel, along with a list of activities that were featured daily. He pointed us in the direction of the elevator that would take us up to the fifth floor.

  No word could describe how beautiful our suite was. In the middle of the room sat a double king-size bed. It was humongous. If Malcolm and I lay on opposite sides and rolled over toward the middle of the bed five times, we still wouldn’t meet.

  Next to the bed were mauve-colored his and her sinks. Across from the sinks was a closet that housed an iron and ironing board. On the top shelf of the closet we saw a small silver safe. To the right of the closet, a door led to the bathroom, which had a mauve-colored sunken Jacuzzi tub, a separate shower behind glass doors, and a rose-colored toilet.

  “Rhapsody, come look at this view.”

  I went out onto the terrace and stood next to Malcolm. Down below, a large pool that could fit up to three hundred people was half full. A game of water volleyball was under way. Dark blue lawn chairs surrounded the entire pool. Three minibars that looked like little huts were very busy. Straight ahead was the Caribbean Sea in all its glory.

  “Ooh, Malcolm, look at how pretty the water is.”

  The waves rushed up on the sand, and the water was crystal clear. About twenty feet into the ocean, the water was turquoise. Farther out, where the motorized sports took place, the water was royal blue. I looked up at the sky and saw that it matched the three colors of the ocean.

  “Malcolm, our suite faces the east. So we’ll be able to see the sun rise out of the water. Will you get up early with me to see it?”

  “How early?”

  “About four o’clock.”

  “Girl, you must be crazy,” he said. “I’m on vacation, and I ain’t getting out of the bed till the afternoon. Did you notice that there’s no clock on the nightstand?”

  “Yeah. Why is that?” I wondered out loud.

  “Because when you’re on vacation, time doesn’t matter. You’re supposed to do whatever you want whenever you wanna do it.”

  I stepped to him and wrapped my arms around his waist. “So, what do you wanna do now?”

  He kissed my lips softly. “I don’t know. You picked this resort. What do you wanna do?”

  I shoved my torso into his. “You know.”

  Malcolm laughed at me.

  When we stepped into the room from the terrace, there was a knock on the door. The bellboy stood in the hall with our luggage. Malcolm brought the luggage into the room, and I tipped the bellboy twenty dollars and sent him on his way.

  “You wanna get something to eat before we have sex?” Malcolm asked.

  “Let me teach you something, boo. Never eat right before you screw, ’cause you’ll get full and tired. Always screw before you eat. That way you’ll work up an appetite.”

  Malcolm and I made our presence known to anyone who was in the suite above and below us, next door and across the hall from us. It was almost 10:30 a.m. when we emerged from our suite, and according to the list of activities the concierge had given us, we had a half hour to make the breakfast buffet at two of the four restaurants at the resort. I had slipped into a light blue, chiffon, floral, spaghetti-strap sundress and white flip-flops, while Malcolm had opted for a short-sleeve khaki shirt, khaki shorts, and a pair of black Tommy Hilfiger flip-flops.

  I hadn’t realized how hungry I was until I saw the buffet. I piled a plate with bacon, sausage links, scrambled eggs, and French toast. I found a table that gave us a view of the ocean while we ate. I assumed Malcolm was behind me, but when I looked around for him, he was nowhere to be found. When I sat down, a waiter was quickly at my side.

  “Hola, señorita.”

  I smiled. “Hola.”

  “Wha u ly fa dree?”

  The look on my face must’ve told him I didn’t understand, ’cause he repeated what he’d said. This time he made the letter C with his hand and brought it up to his mouth, as though he was drinking from a cup. “Dree. Wha u ly fa dree?”

  That time I got it. “Oh, what would I like to drink?”

  He smiled and nodded his head. “Sí, señorita, sí.”

  I still didn’t see Malcolm, but I ordered for him, anyway. “Two cups of orange juice, please.”

  The waiter walked away to fulfill my request. That was when I saw Malcolm coming toward me, balancing three plates. He placed them on the table, sat down, then looked at my plate.

  “That’s all you’re eating?” he said.

  On one of his plates were bacon, sausage, and fried honey ham. On another plate were grits, eggs over easy, and hash browns. On the third plate I saw a stack of pancakes and French toast.

  “Malcolm, that is so ghetto. Why couldn’t you make one plate, eat it all up, then go back for seconds?”

  “Because I’m hungry, and they’re starting to remove all the breakfast foods. The mid-morning snack buffet is being set up now.”

  Our friendly waiter sat our cups of orange juice on the table, then shook Malcolm’s hand. “Hola, señor.”

  “Hola,” Malcolm said with a mouth full of food.

  “R u hubben n wy?”

  Malcolm understood him perfectly. “No, we’re not married. We’re just friends.”

  “Jus frees? An u come to play ly thees?”

  “What do you mean, ‘a place like this’?” Malcolm asked.

  “A play fa peepa who n luv,” he said and walked away.

  Malcolm looked at me, and I looked at him. We stared at each other for a long moment. I didn’t know if Malcolm was in love with me or not. But if I were honest with myself, I’d have to admit that I had, in fact, fallen in love with him.

  Do you love me, Malcolm? I imagined myself asking him. I wanted to tell him that I loved him, but I’d be devastated if he didn’t echo the words back to me.

  After breakfast, Malcolm and I went to the gift shop at the resort to buy souvenirs. Even though I was mad at Anastasia, there was no way I could go back home without a gift for her. I saw beautiful brass wind chimes I knew she’d love to have.

  Malcolm tried on a red bandanna, and I liked it so much that I bought four of them. Daniel and Walter didn’t deserve a souvenir, but out of the goodness of my heart, they would each get a bandanna. Trevor was like a brother to me, so he’d get one too. The fourth one was for Malcolm, since he looked so good in it. For Chantal, I chose a straw doll wearing a sombrero. I got my father a box of cigars that had been dipped in cognac. I’d always loved the smell of that. I didn’t know what to get for Lerlean.

  Malcolm came over to me, holding up a white sundress with I’M HAPPY IN CANCÚN written on the front. “I think I’ll get this for my mother,” he said.

  “Get another one.” The dress was ideal for my mother as well.

  I couldn’t forget about Mr. Duncan. At first I wasn’t going to buy him a souvenir, because he got on my nerves every day, but he did bring me a pretty mug from Jamaica. It was only right that I got him something. Besides, if I brought him back a gift, he might not fire me.

  Mr. Duncan was a drinker, and I saw the perfect T-shirt for him. It showed a shot glass filled with a brownish liquid and had the words ONE TEQUILA, TWO TEQUILA, THREE TEQUILA, FLOOR on it. At the bottom of the T-shirt was a man who had passed out. Malcolm bought the same shirt for his friend Ivan. For his sister, Cherise, he bought a yellow jewelry box. When she opened it, she would see a porcelain ballerina twirling to soft music. A tan bucket hat with CANCÚN across the front was what he bought for his brother-in-law, Sean.

  We stood at the counter and watched as the cashier took the time to carefully wrap each one of our gifts in newspaper or plastic to ensure they wouldn’t get damaged when we packed them in our luggage.

  “One thousen thendy-thee pesos,” she
said.

  I understood the one thousand twenty-three part, but we didn’t have any pesos.

  “How much?” I asked with raised eyebrows and a high-pitched tone.

  She smiled at me. “One thousen thendy-thee pesos, senorita.”

  “How much in U.S. dollars?” Malcolm asked.

  “One hondud two dolla, dirty cen.”

  “Whew.” I exhaled loudly, and to my surprise, Malcolm’s hand came out of his pocket with the money.

  We collected our gifts and headed to our suite.

  “Who’s caring for your mother?” I asked while we were on the elevator.

  “She’s staying at Cherise’s house till I get back.”

  Once we had separated our gifts and had packed them away, we changed into our swimwear. Malcolm complimented me on my fuchsia one-piece. It was low cut in the back, and it had a little skirt around the waist to hide the dimples in my thighs. He looked nice in his navy blue swim trunks. I put our beach towels, sunscreen lotion in my beach bag and off we went for some fun in the sun.

  I didn’t know how much fun we were gonna have in the one-hundred-plus-degree heat. I spread my pink beach towel and Malcolm’s blue towel across two lounge chairs on the beach. I squeezed sunscreen lotion in Malcolm’s hand, and he rubbed it on my legs, arms, and back.

  “You want me to return the favor?” I asked him.

  “Nah. I’ma get in the water.”

  I turned to lie on my back and watched him dive in the water like he was a marathon swimmer. I put my shades on my face, leaned back, and closed my eyes. Before long I dozed off.

  I didn’t know how long I’d been asleep, but I woke up to laughing. It took me a minute to gain my focus and remember where I was. The beach had gotten more crowded. Not far from me, I saw a woman lying on a lounge chair, topless. Many people were in the water, and I couldn’t find Malcolm anywhere. I removed my shades and scanned the area for navy blue shorts and saw a pair that matched Malcolm’s about five feet in the ocean, straight ahead of me. I knew that there was no way it was Malcolm in those shorts, because the man wearing them was snigglin’ and gigglin’ with a woman who looked half my age and was definitely half my size.