Never Too Soon

by Tamika Christy

  “Thank you, Phil. That is the nicest thing anyone ever said to me.”

  “I’m sure it’s n-not, but it’s the truth.”

  She bid Phil farewell, deleted their photo, and got on the freeway. Forty-five minutes later, she was back in Oakland. Sophie decided to take the long way back to Rockridge. She passed through downtown where the hipsters lived. Cafes and bike shops populated every other corner, while murals and landscaping had replaced graffiti and blight. She was happy for progress but hated to see Oakland lose its history. Oaktown was now Oaklandish, and she didn’t know how she felt about the San Francisco transplants making their mark in her city.

  She called her mother, who was on her way to yoga. This was the third time they had spoken this week, and they hadn’t had a single argument. Yes, the conversations had been less than two minutes long, but progress was progress. Sophie was okay with small victories for now. She knew that part of her recovery depended largely on repairing her relationship with her mom. Her dysfunctional relationship with her parents was part of the reason she had starting using drugs in the first place. Getting high helped to numb the pain so Sophie was able to deal with the disappointment of knowing her parents chose to fight rather than spend time with her or try to keep their family together.

  She was driving up Broadway when her cell rang. She picked up, thinking her mom had forgotten something.

  “Hey, you.”

  Ugh. She wanted to hang up in Jabari’s face, but she also wanted to hear his reason for not calling. She decided to play it cool. She put J. Cole on mute so she could hear Jabari’s excuses.

  “Hey yourself. What’s up?”

  He said all the usual stuff: he’d been busy, he couldn’t stop thinking about her. All the same crap he used to say to her, that she used to forgive him for, but no more. If he missed her, he would have called, and if he cared about her like he said he did, he would have made time to see her. She wasn’t going to fall for his web of lies. She missed him, but she also missed the Obama administration. Sometimes you just had to let go, no matter how hard it was.

  After his unconvincing apology, the line went silent. He was waiting for her response. Sophie waited. Let him sweat.

  It didn’t take long. “Can you come over?” he asked softly.

  Could she come over? For what? For him to disrespect her some more and dream up more lies to tell her once she got there? So he could have sex with her and then tell her he had to go and help his aunt move? What did he take her for? Did he think she was some desperado who didn’t have any other options than getting played by some hip-hop wannabe chef who couldn’t be honest? No way.

  But she’d never been to his place.

  “What’s your address?”

  She hung up the phone and hit the steering wheel in frustration. She was weak. She put his address in her GPS and cursed herself all the way to his place. Why was her self-worth so dependent on his acceptance? Why did an invitation to his house suddenly make up for all the pain and confusion he had caused her? By the time she arrived at his apartment in Hayward, she still hadn’t figured it out.

  Jabari’s apartment smelled like grilled salmon and peaches, and he greeted her at the door with a kiss, though she returned it stiffly. He was in jeans and had decided he didn’t need a shirt.

  “I gotta watch the salmon on the grill, babe, but make yourself at home.”

  Don’t call me babe. Sophie stood in the center of his living room and turned around slowly. After all this time, she was finally in his space. Where he slept, cooked, rested, and talked to her on the phone when he bothered to call. It didn’t look like she had imagined. The place was clean and well decorated, with beautiful artwork on the walls and a lovely ceramic centerpiece on the dining room table. A small figurine she’d given him sat on the mantel, and a book of poems she’d given him was on the coffee table. The brown sofa wasn’t much to look at, but it was carefully masked by colorful throw pillows. There was no sign of any other woman in the living room.

  She found the restroom neat, just like the rest of the house. She freshened her lip gloss and stared at herself in the mirror before doing the inevitable. There was nothing in the medicine cabinet except men’s shaving cream, deodorant, some over-the-counter pain relievers, a little bottle of something for athletes’ foot, and Band-Aids with Dora the Explorer on them. Nothing damaging in there. She blew a kiss in the mirror and went back out to the kitchen.

  “Are you hungry?” Jabari asked, coming in from the patio with a plate of grilled salmon.

  “Sure. It smells amazing, Jabari.” Her mood was improving.

  He moved around the kitchen like an expert, dicing, slicing, and smiling at Sophie. How could this be the same guy who didn’t return phone calls and made her feel so suspicious? This man looked at her like he loved her. And when they were together, it didn’t feel like there was any place he’d rather be. It didn’t make sense, but she didn’t want to ruin the moment with heavy discussion. She would ask the hard questions after dinner.

  Dinner was delicious, and afterwards, they moved to the couch. He started kissing her lips and ears and neck. He pulled her dress over her head and caressed her breasts. She panted, filled with passion and happiness. This was it. They were going to be together and move past all the nonsense. When she reached down and grabbed him, she made a mental note to buy him new underwear.

  “I want you so bad,” he groaned.

  The first time she heard the doorbell, she thought she was hearing things. Then it rang again. And again, followed by pounding on the door. She pushed on Jabari’s chest.

  “Jabari, is that the door?” She tried to sit up.

  “Nah,” he moaned.

  “Jabari, I know you’re in there!” The muffled voice was female.

  “Someone’s at the door! Who is that?” Sophie jumped up and pulled on her dress, grabbing her handbag.

  Jabari looked guilty. “I dunno.”

  The pounding finally stopped, and his cell phone rang. Jabari put his fingers to his lips.

  “Don’t shush me!” Sophie rushed to the door, but Jabari got there first.

  “Sophie, don’t go out there. Please,” he whispered.

  “Then tell me the truth.”

  “The truth about what?”

  Sophie reached around him toward the door.

  “Okay! Wait,” he said, voice still hushed. “I’ll tell you anything you want to know. Please.” He flinched at the voice on the other side.

  “Jabari! I hear your voice. Open this door now!”

  “Who is that?” Sophie demanded.

  “My sister.”

  Sophie reached for the doorknob again.

  “Wait. Okay. It’s my friend.” What a persistent friend.

  Jabari wasn’t capable of loving anybody. He didn’t even love himself. Love is selfless and giving and kind. Love is not manipulative and deceitful. Once Sophie walked out, she would never come back. The guy she thought she loved and had been willing to do anything for a few moments ago was nothing more than a dishonest weasel. The fear in his expression and his tight, white underwear didn’t do anything to make him more favorable in her eyes. She pushed passed Jabari and opened the door.

  A furious-looking redhead with balled fists stood at the door. She furrowed her over-plucked eyebrows and stared at Sophie, dragging on a Newport.

  “I’m sorry,” Sophie said to the thin woman.

  “Who are you?” she demanded.

  “Babe,” Jabari said.

  The woman turned to him with fire in her eyes. “Don’t babe me, Jabari. You will pay for this.”

  Sophie stood there, frozen, watching the scene unfold before her.

  “I’m not talking to you, Becky.”

  Becky? No way.

  Becky took a long drag of her cigarette and continued to stare at Sophie.

  “Put that cigarette out.” Jabari’s tone was venomous.

  “Don’t talk to me like that!” Becky countered. “You were nothing wh
en I met you. Just a boy from the desert. You probably would have been recruited by the Taliban.”

  The Taliban? Sophie needed to get out of there. Why was everyone crazy today?

  Becky dropped the cigarette and extinguished it with the point of her thigh-high suede boot. She made her way inside as Sophie brushed passed her and ran down the stairs as fast as she could.

  After all the time spent examining her feelings and trying to offer him the opportunity to be honest with her, Jabari had been with another woman. The last thing she needed was to deal with some messy relationship gone wrong. She was done with negative headlines. The last time there was a story about her, she was high at Jack in the Box fussing about the French fries not being hot enough. Her parents almost disowned her after that episode.

  Since getting clean, she had stayed out of trouble and out of the headlines. She wasn’t going to allow Becky and Jabari to send her to blog hell. All of her emotional survival skills and training were out the window. Tears of outrage and humiliation temporarily blinded her vision, as she tried to decide what to do next, apart from punch him in the face and break his windows was illegal. She pulled out her phone.

  “Hello?”

  “Catie, thank God,” Sophie said, power-walking toward her car. Then she changed directions. She was too agitated to drive.

  “Sophie? What’s wrong?”

  Sophie took a deep breath and unloaded the entire story by the time she reached the front of Jabari’s gated complex. She was talking so fast, she had to repeat herself several times. Catie could hardly keep up.

  “Wait, wait, wait,” Catie said after listening to Sophie rant. “Jabari wears tighty-whities?”

  “Really Catie?” Sophie was almost hysterical. “After everything I just said, the only thing you comment on is the kind of underwear Jabari was wearing?”

  “You’re right. I’m sorry. I’m focused now. Okay. So where is she? Did you say her name was Becky?”

  “She’s in his apartment. And yes.”

  “Is she white?”

  “Yes.”

  “Classic.” She snorted. “Where are you?”

  “At the gate of his complex. I’m just walking off my anger before I get in my car.”

  “Oh, you’re not leaving. You finally get an invitation to his house after all this time, and while you are there, some white chick comes knocking on the door while you are making out and you leave?” Catie tore open a pack of something and started chewing loudly.

  “Yes. I didn’t know what else to do.” Sophie kicked the wall. Why was she feeling so helpless? She had notes, questionnaires, and books on this exact situation and she couldn’t think of anything to do. Stupid!

  “Look, I know I said I wasn’t going to cuss anymore, but bitch, fuck that. Get your ass back in there. That son-of-a-bitch has been telling you lies all this time, and you have the opportunity to find out the truth. March your ass right back up there and find out what the fuck has been going on. And after you leave, get yourself tested because that asshole has probably been in prison. Trust me. Any man under seventy years old who wears tighty-whities has been in prison. Or he’s mentally challenged. Either way, you don’t want him.”

  “Can you please stop with the underwear?”

  “Sophie, you have to go back and get answers. Having her in the room is the only way to know you’re getting the truth because he clearly doesn’t know how to be honest. And you deserve to know what’s been going on. Go back up there and get your truth.”

  Sophie felt her resolve hardening with Catie’s support. “Thanks, Catie.”

  “Girl, I gotchu. Call me when you get home.”

  “OK. Love you.”

  Catie hung up and Sophie walked back toward Jabari’s apartment, thinking about all the times she watched Carmen waiting for Terry to get home. She thought about all their fights about him lying and all the times she felt responsible for her parents breaking up.

  Regardless of our beginnings, we have the power to determine our ending.

  Sophie repeated the mantra to herself. Just because Sophie’s parents were dysfunctional and couldn’t make their marriage work didn’t mean that was Sophie’s destiny. She couldn’t fix Jabari, and she no longer wanted to.

  Sophie walked in to Jabari’s apartment without knocking. Jabari had put on a shirt and was sitting in the chair across from Becky, who sat on the couch, biting her nails and spitting them out. They stopped talking when Sophie came in.

  She sat down on the couch next to Becky. Jabari leaned forward with his elbows on his knees.

  She glared at him. Months of lies and excuses and you’ve been cheating on me with this redhead with over-filled lips and go-go boots. I’m so glad we used condoms.

  “Sophie, I didn’t think you’d come back. Thanks.” He rubbed a hand over his face. “I wanna apologize to the both of y’all.”

  He sounded as pathetic as he looked. The charm that once entranced both women had disappeared and most of the color was gone from his face. He lowered his frizzy hair in shame. “I’ve been lying for a long time, and I’m sorry.”

  “Ha, that’s the understatement of the fucking year,” Becky said, crossing one boot over the other.

  Jabari looked up to meet Becky’s gaze. “Becky, you cool and everything, but we both know our relationship’s been over for a long time.”

  Sophie eyeballed the ceramic centerpiece and fought the urge to smash it across Jabari’s head. She started counting. I need to calm down before this gets ugly. Terry will never forgive me if I show up on some blog for beating this guy down.

  “I didn’t know shit,” Becky spat. “All I know is you been running around with floozies behind my back.”

  Sophie bit her bottom lip. Floozies? One. Two. Three.

  “And you couldn’t tell me that? I’ve been asking you for two years now if you want to break up and you kept saying no! And each time,” Becky sniffled, “you said you wanted to fix things. All you had to do was tell me.”

  Two years, huh? Fifteen. Sixteen.

  “I know, and I’m sorry about that. I didn’t wanna hurt you. And I’m sorry to you, Sophie.” He looked at her, eyes pained. “I didn’t expect to meet somebody like you. I mean, when my cousin made up that dating profile, I knew I’d meet some cool people, but nobody like you. You threw me off with your travels and how cool you are. You never judge me. Then I started likin’ you a lot, but I was already . . .” He trailed off and hung his head again.

  “Finish your sentence, JB,” Becky lambasted him. She moved to the edge of her seat and Sophie thought she was going to punch Jabari in the face. It would serve him right. “Because you were already what? In a relationship?”

  “I wouldn’t call it a relationship,” he said bitterly.

  “Oh, you wouldn’t?” Becky tilted her head to the side. The entire thing was like a scene from a bad reality television show.

  “But you spent so many nights with me,” Sophie finally said. “How did you do that?”

  “I’m a firefighter, Sophie,” he said. “I spend three days a week at the station.”

  “You’re a firefighter?” She let it sink in for a minute. “I thought you wanted to be a chef.” What a web of lies. “So you were—”

  “Lying about his shifts,” Becky interjected. She turned to Sophie. “What kind of relationship were you in, girl, that you don’t know your man’s occupation?”

  Fifty-seven. Fifty-eight.

  “The same kind of relationship you were in not knowing where your man was for days at a time,” Sophie said. “No observer bias here, please. We both suffer from a collective unconscious that most women experience at one point or another in their lives. Transferring your anger to me is unproductive and creates unnecessary tension. Let’s not do that.”

  Jabari smirked.

  Becky looked confused, but didn’t keep quiet for long. “He just got this apartment a few months ago,” Becky said with a side-eye towards Jabari. “Said he needed space, so I gave it t
o him. I didn’t think he was over here cheating on me!”

  Becky needed to learn how to communicate without screaming.

  That’s why Jabari never invited me over. “And your parents?” Sophie asked Jabari, though she was afraid of the answer.

  “My parents are dead like I told you.”

  Whew. “Why couldn’t you just tell me about the rest?” Sophie asked.

  “Because he’s a filthy, stupid liar, that’s why,” Becky said. “Wait until my father hears about this.”

  Jabari looked down at his hands. Sophie looked back and forth between Jabari and Becky. Something wasn’t right.

  “I didn’t tell you,” he said to Sophie, ignoring Becky’s threat, “because I didn’t think you woulda stayed around.”

  “It was my choice, Jabari, and you took that choice away by lying to me.”

  “Well, my dear, that’s what he’s famous for. Lying and using people!” Becky yelled again.

  “It was a mistake.” He paused pensively. “I didn’t wanna lose you, Sophie.”

  “Don’t you dare try and pretend like I don’t exist. You wanted me!” Becky yelled, fighting for attention.

  “Please.” Jabari kneeled in front of Sophie and held her hand. “I’m sorry. I never meant to hurt you, Sophie. I swear.”

  “Blah, blah blah,” Becky said, turning redder the longer she was ignored. “How many times have you said that to me?”

  “Never,” he said, finally turning to her. “You told me you were pregnant. Twice!” It was Jabari’s turn to raise his voice.

  “I had miscarriages. That wasn’t my fault. If you weren’t stressing me out, I could have kept our babies.”

  “I’m not saying it was your fault, Becky, but every time I talked about breaking up, you brought up the miscarriages and said you were depressed. I couldn’t leave you like that. I’m not an animal.”

  “You tricked me too! You were cheating on me all this time,” Becky screamed.

  “Becky, please. I haven’t touched you in over a year. You knew something was wrong. Stop playin’ games. And stop yelling.”

  “You were a gangbanger when I met you.” She stood and hitched one hand on her hip. “Trying to finagle your way into any hustle you could. You are nothing without me.”