Before I allowed myself to move in their direction, I studied the man’s features. Everything about him, from the bald head to the color of his skin to the way he laughed, was a replica of Malcolm. What really shocked me was the fact that he picked the almost naked broad up by her waist and dropped her in the water. She came back up, laughing, wanting him to do it again. It was Malcolm, all right, but I still didn’t move. I lay there watching them.
I took my mind back to O’Hare Airport early that morning. I recalled the conversation I had had with Malcolm about bikinis. I didn’t wanna get up from the lounge chair and go off if I wasn’t absolutely sure that I’d warned him against this type of intolerable behavior, but I distinctly remembered telling him what I would and would not put up with. However, it shouldn’t have mattered whether I had warned him or not, since he was old enough to know better. Some things should be common sense. But since Malcolm was acting like he didn’t have any or was simply disregarding what I’d told him in Chicago, I had to do the fool.
I calmly stood from the lounge chair, folded both our towels, and put them in my beach bag, along with my shades and the sunscreen lotion. I then placed the bag on my left shoulder and walked toward the ocean. I got in the water and wormed my way through the people having fun and splashing water on each other. I snuck up behind Malcolm just as he was getting ready to pick the girl up and drop her again. I tapped his shoulder, and he turned around.
You could always tell when men were caught with their hands in the cookie jar by the expression on their faces. Malcolm looked like he’d seen a ghost.
“Oh, h-h-hey, baby,” he said nervously.
I looked at him and asked very calmly, “What are you doing?”
“Oh, I was just, uh . . .” He looked at the girl. “We were just, uh . . .”
“We?” I asked with raised eyebrows.
The broad had the gall to come from behind Malcolm and step in front of him to face me. “I’m Precious, and you are . . . ?”
She tried to show me up. I took my beach bag off my shoulder and let it fall in the water, forgetting about its contents. I took a step closer to her. “Who am I? I’m the one that’s about to whup your precious butt. That’s who I am.”
I had to give the girl her props, because she was bold. She was getting ready to come at me, but Malcolm stepped in between us. “Whoa. Hold on, y’all.”
“No, you hold on,” I said to him. “What did I tell you at the airport before we left Chicago?”
“Rhapsody, don’t trip. Okay? We were just talking.”
“Talking? What kind of language are you speaking when you’re picking her up and dropping her in the water?”
“My kind of language,” the broad said.
Malcolm saw the look on my face, and he knew me well enough to know I was getting ready to react violently. He quickly turned to her. “You might not wanna say nothing else, ’cause she will jack you up out here in this water.”
“Screw both y’all,” she said and waded away.
I looked at Malcolm and said, “Let’s go.”
“Go where?”
I picked up my floating beach bag and saw that everything in it was soaked. “Up to the room. It’s time to take a nap,” I said over my shoulder as I made my way back to the sand.
“But I’m not sleepy.”
I stopped walking, turned around to look at him. I balled up my lips and gritted my teeth. “Well, get sleepy!”
On the elevator up to the suite, I didn’t say a word to Malcolm. I waited till we were away from the public and in our suite before I spoke to him. I didn’t want any witnesses to my threats, ’cause if he was found dead, floating in the ocean, I would scream and holla and do everything else a woman did when she had lost the love of her life. “You got off easy, Malcolm. The next time I won’t do no talking. I’m just gonna stab you.”
Malcolm got undressed and climbed under the covers. “Girl, you ain’t gon’ do nothin’.”
I didn’t comment. I didn’t need to. I figured I could show Malcolm better than I could tell him. I stepped out of my sundress, got in bed, and snuggled next to him. We were both snoring in less than five minutes.
Chapter 37
We had arrived in Cancún on Friday morning, and by Sunday night I was ready to take my behind back to Chicago. Malcolm was wearing me out. I felt like I was his mother the way I had to keep telling him over and over again not to do this and not to do that. I got tired of hearing my own doggone voice.
“What are you lookin’ at her for . . . ?”
“What did she say to you . . . ?”
“Why are you smilin’ in that broad’s face . . . ?”
“Why did it take you so long to come back from the bathroom . . . ?”
“Why do you gotta go back to the gift shop . . . ?”
“Who is the gift for . . . ?”
And I could’ve sworn I’d heard him call out Sharonda’s name in his sleep last night. It had taken all that was within me to keep from smothering Malcolm with my pillow. I’d vowed to myself that if I found out that he was screwing Sharonda, in hell would I lift my eyes, because I would kill him.
It was Monday morning and our last full day in Cancún. Since we’d got there, Malcolm had been moping and pouting, saying that I had been a Debbie Downer the whole trip. He wasn’t lying next to me when I woke up. I slipped into my robe and found him sitting on the terrace, looking down at the folks doing water aerobics in the pool. I sat in a chair next to him.
“I’m sorry that you’re not having a good vacation.”
He looked at me. “Rhapsody, don’t think that I don’t appreciate this vacation, because I do, but when you told me we were coming to Cancún, I was geeked because there’s so much to do here, but you won’t let me do nothing.”
He was right, and I knew it. Being paranoid and insecure wasn’t fair to him. “Okay, Malcolm, it’s our last day, and I’ll do whatever you wanna do except horseback ride. It’s too dangerous for the baby.”
I thought I saw a little excitement in his eyes. “Are you for real?”
“Yep. Whatever you wanna do. We’ll call this Malcolm’s Day.”
He was definitely excited. He sat up from his slouching position and rubbed his palms together. “Okay, cool, cool. How about we hit the Jet Skis first? After that, we’ll check out parasailing. And yesterday I heard a tour guide tell another couple about a safari trip we can take to see animals in the wild. And there’s a water park about two miles from here, with all kinds of twisted slides we can ride.”
Just sitting there listening to Malcolm made me wanna throw up. I was thirty-four years old and pregnant. All the crazy crap he wanted to do was out of my league.
He saw the distraught look on my face and frowned. “What? You don’t wanna do it?”
I faked a smile. “Yeah, boo, I promised you this would be your day. I’m game.”
He hopped up from the chair and whistled his way to the shower. I sat on the terrace, looked out over the ocean, and shook my head from side to side, wondering what I was gonna do.
Twenty minutes later Malcolm was dressed and ready to go. I, on the other hand, was taking my own sweet time.
“Dang, Rhapsody. What’s taking you so long?”
“I’m moving as fast as I can, Malcolm.”
“Baby, you’ve been brushing your teeth for twenty minutes. Come on.”
I dreaded leaving the suite. I took my time, Malcolm’s time, and everybody else’s time getting dressed. And that morning the saltine crackers and the 7Up didn’t work; I vomited three times. I swooshed a capful of Scope around in my mouth and spat it into the sink. “Okay, Malcolm, you’re always rushing me. I’m almost ready.”
“I’ll just meet you down on the beach.”
“You just wanna look at the bikinis. You’re gonna mess around and make me stab you for real, Malcolm,” I warned him. “Wait for me. All I gotta do is put on my T-shirt and shorts.”
It was another hot day in Cancún. M
alcolm was so hyped about his day, he could barely eat breakfast. Watching me eat like a turtle, he drummed his fingers on the table, looking bored as heck.
“Will you quit that?” I asked, glaring at his fingers.
“Will you hurry up? You’re eating slow on purpose. You know I’m ready to hit the waves.”
I drank the last sip of my orange juice; then Malcolm and I headed to the beach. It wasn’t long after we got to the beach that I found myself listening to an instructor give me and Malcolm the dos and don’ts regarding the Jet Skis. He pointed far out into the ocean to a neon orange cone floating in the water.
“Do go tha fah. Tha wheyah shar. Wen get ta con, com bak.”
I leaned into Malcolm. “What is he saying?”
“He said not to go past the orange cone, because there are sharks.”
That was it. I was done. “I ain’t going.”
Malcolm exhaled loudly. “Rhapsody, don’t start. Ain’t nothing gonna happen to you. Put a life vest on and let’s go.”
I had never been so scared in my life. At that point, I was willing to tell Malcolm to go and find that broad he’d been splashing in the ocean with and invite her to ride with him. “Why can’t you go by yourself?”
“Because you promised me you’d hang with me today.” He marched over to Jet Ski we’d been assigned.
Those who were standing around waiting for the next available Jet Ski found my hesitation humorous. Malcolm got on first, then waited for me to climb on behind him. When I hesitated, he said, “Okay, Rhapsody, get on behind me.”
With tears in my eyes, I climbed on. I looked at the lady who was next in line. Tears dripped onto my cheeks when I spoke to her with a shaky voice. “My name is Rhapsody Blue, and I’m from Chicago. If I don’t come back, call my mama, Lerlean Blue, and tell her I got about six hundred dollars in my bank account, which she can have. And tell her to bury me in my new lilac suit I got from Neiman Marcus.”
I was really sincere, but those who heard me, including Malcolm, laughed their butts off. The Jet Ski sounded like a motorcycle.
Once Malcolm and I were secure and set to go, the instructor approached us. “Hit way reeyah ha an go reeyah fas so no tur ovah. Go reeyah fas, reeyah fas.”
I understood everything he said, and I had to throw up real bad. I wrapped my arms around Malcolm’s waist and held on for dear life. I pressed my face into the back of his neck. The next thing I knew, we were flying at one hundred miles an hour in just eight seconds. I started screaming.
Malcolm was having the time of his life. “Woohoo! Yeah! This is da bomb diggidy.”
“Slow down, Malcolm!” I yelled.
Either he didn’t hear me or he chose not to obey. A big, gigantic tsunami wave was coming at us.
Malcolm sped up. “Yeah! Get ready, boo. We gon’ hit this wave like champions.”
I imagined being in a head-on collision and having my air bag inflate hard against my face. That was what it felt like when the wave rushed into us. Malcolm was out of his mind, yelling at the top of his lungs.
“Yeah! Yeah!”
We were both drenched, and I could barely see. We were coming up on the orange cone, and Malcolm knew he had to turn around, but instead of slowing down, like he should’ve, he did the turn at eighty miles an hour and the Jet Ski capsized. We both landed in the water, and I started kicking and screaming.
Malcolm knew I couldn’t swim, and he was immediately at my side, reminding me of the life vest I was wearing. When I realized I wasn’t sinking, he left me alone to get the Jet Ski upright. In my peripheral vision, I saw something bright orange in color and remembered what the instructor had said about the sharks, and I lost my self-control.
I was delirious. “Jaws is out here, Malcolm. Come get me. Come get me!”
He climbed onto the Jet Ski and came over to where I was. He saw that I was hysterical. “Calm down before you drown out here.”
I kept crying, “Jaws is out here! He’s gonna eat me.”
Apparently, Malcolm thought my dilemma was funny. He was laughing when he pulled me from the water. When I was safely on the Jet Ski, I started hitting him repeatedly on the back of his head. “Get me off this water!”
He tried to duck and dodge my blows, but I kept hitting him until my feet were back on the sand. Those still waiting their turn had seen what had happened, and they applauded my safe return.
“We knew you could do it,” someone said.
We turned in our life vests and walked away. Malcolm grabbed my hand.
“Wasn’t that fun?” he said.
“No, not even a little bit.”
Our clothes were drenched through and through, but it was still hot. I saw that Malcolm was leading me to the parasailing section on the beach. I witnessed a small white sailboat leave the shallow water at a rapid speed; then two people attached to it by a long rope flew into the air behind it, sitting on what looked like a swing seat. A gigantic light blue kite sailed up above them.
I stopped walking. “Nope.”
Malcolm looked at me and smiled. “Come on, Rhapsody.”
I shook my head from side to side. “I ain’t gon’ do it.”
Malcolm squeezed my hand, then pulled me toward his chest and hugged me tight. “Boo, it’s gonna be all right.”
I wasn’t giving in to him that time. “No, Malcolm, no.”
He didn’t say anything else. He held me, squeezed me tight, then looked down into my eyes. “I love you.”
My heart melted because he hadn’t said those words to me before. Can it be true? I wondered.
“Do it for me,” he pleaded.
“What did you say?”
“I said, ‘Do it for me.’”
“No, before that.”
He thought for a moment. “I said, ‘I love you.’”
By then I was ready to walk through fire with Malcolm. He loved me.
When the instructor strapped us into the swing seat, he saw tears streaming down my face.
“Wy u cry, senorita? U no wan fly?”
“She’ll be all right,” Malcolm said sternly.
The instructor stepped away and gave the driver of the boat the cue to step on the gas.
I looked at Malcolm, sitting next to me. Through my tears, I saw three of him. “I hate you for making me do this.... Ah, Ah! Jesus, Jesus!” We were in the air, flying high, and I was acting like a fool. “Oh, oh, oh, Lord. Jesus, Jesus, Jesus, Jesus. Jesus, Jesus, Jesus.”
Malcolm laughed at me so hard, he was crying himself. I closed my eyes so tight, my eyelids looked like they were glued together. I didn’t wanna see nothing.
“Open your eyes, Rhapsody.”
I didn’t do it. I couldn’t do it. I knew if I looked down, I would faint.
“Boo, open your eyes.”
“Shut up!”
We must’ve hit an air pocket, because we took a quick dip, and my stomach dropped. “Ah, ah! Jesus, Jesus, Jesus.”
Malcolm kept on laughing.
I decided to make a deal with God. “Lord, if you let me get off this thang, I promise to never do nothing this crazy ever again.” I didn’t think God heard me, because we hit another air pocket. “Ah, ah, ah! Jesus, Jesus, Jesus, Jesus.”
After parasailing, we went up to our suite to change into dry clothes. I was starving and couldn’t wait to see what the lunch buffet consisted of. Malcolm and I both wore white. He dressed in white denim shorts, a white T-shirt, and tan flip-flops. He wore a white bucket hat on his head. I pulled on a white, asymmetric linen tank blouse, a long white linen skirt, and white flip-flops. I pulled my hair back from my face and tied a white scarf into a bow on the top of my head. We were gorgeous and looked good together. We got on the elevator and met a woman who was coming down from a floor above us.
“You two look cute,” she commented. “Did you get married today?”
That made me feel good, but I said, “No, we didn’t.”
“You look like a couple who’s very much in love with o
ne another.”
That was the first of many compliments we received on our way to the buffet. When we walked into the restaurant, someone asked, “When’s the wedding?” Another woman said, “You must be on your honeymoon.”
It blew my mind when a couple who was on their honeymoon came to our table and asked us to pose for a picture to show the folks back home in Atlanta how many newlyweds were in Cancún, at the Caribe Real Resort, at the same time as they were.
Since I had clowned and acted like a fool during the parasailing and Jet Ski excursions, Malcolm forgave me my promise to go to the water park and on the safari. He said he couldn’t take any more of my screaming and hollering. Once we had eaten, we left the restaurant and walked hand in hand along the beach. It was mid-afternoon, and the temperature had already reached ninety-six degrees.
“Thank you, boo,” Malcolm said to me.
“For what?”
“For doing what you do best, which is taking good care of me and always looking out for me, and for giving me great sex.”
I laughed. “Is it great, Malcolm?”
“Mmm-hmm. Each and every time.”
I let go of his hand to write our names in the sand. I got as far as Mal before the water came ashore and washed it away.
“Hold the water back, Malcolm.”
“How in the heck am I supposed to hold the water back?”
I moved farther up on the sand, higher on the beach, where the water wasn’t able to reach, and wrote my message.
Malcolm Luvs Rhapsody.
Malcolm held his camera in his hand, and I asked him to take a picture of our names in the sand, but I could tell he didn’t want to. The expression on his face kinda, sorta told me that what I had written in the sand was a lie. In his expression, I saw a question: he was asking me why I had written a lie. When he saw how I was examining his expression, Malcolm snapped the picture, but the truth was out.
“You lied to me earlier,” I said to him.
“What are you talking about?”
“Before we parasailed, you told me you loved me, but that isn’t true, is it? You said that only to get me in the air.”
The Ugly Side of Me Page 24
