I'd Rather Be With You

by Mary B. Morrison

  I didn’t understand why I loved Madison so much. I had to pray for the answer.

  “Are you going to let Mom take over Tyler Construction?” Chaz asked. “I say we do it.”

  “You know Hurricane Helen despises Madison and Johnny. If we let her storm through their company—”

  “Correction, our company. Legally, Madison is still my wife, which makes her the only one hundred percent owner.”

  Chaz mumbled, “You did that on purpose. Wish we can find a way to get around that.”

  My motivation had been to help, not hurt Madison’s family. “Mom will try to sell it from under them,” I said. “I know we’re going to replace Johnny, but let’s keep Mom out of this, and let’s wait until after the baby is born before we make a move.”

  Chaz nodded. “The baby, the baby, the baby. Man, what we got? Another four months?”

  “About that,” I said, smiling at my brother. “Changing the subject, I’m excited about your handling preseason. I’ll be ready to take over everything for the season’s opener.”

  “Cool. Long as you keep me as your assistant. I love this life, man.”

  “You got it.” It was awesome working with my brother.

  Drew, the general manager, approached our table. “Welcome, fellas. You don’t have to ask—I’ve already alerted my staff to make sure you’re not disturbed. Order whatever you’d like, it’s all on the house tonight.”

  Eddie V’s Prime Seafood was a five-star restaurant in many ways that kept us coming back. “Thanks, Drew,” I said.

  Chaz added, “Two tickets. Box suite or the fifty-yard line for the next home game?”

  Drew smiled wide. “Never been in a suite or sat on the fifty.” Everyone we knew, and some we didn’t, requested tickets. Before the season ended, we had a long list for the next season. Mom and her friends. Dad and his buddies. Friends of their friends begged more than family. I hadn’t overlooked Drew. There were no seats to offer. Chaz had no problem saying “no” to anyone, including Mom and Dad. Depending on Drew’s selection, someone was getting bumped.

  I wasn’t Mr. Nice Guy. I knew how to say “no.” The difference between Chaz and me was that I was a man of my word. A commitment by Chaz was more like a promise that he had no problem breaking, especially when it came to women.

  “Think about it, let us know before we leave,” I told him.

  “Oh, Chaz, I’ve been meaning to ask. Can you create an app for me? I need to find a creative way to connect with and increase my followers. I just landed a part in a movie. Nothing big, but it’s a start.”

  “That’s great, man. Congrats.” I was excited for anyone who got an opportunity to pursue his dream.

  “Straight up? Congrats,” Chaz said. “Already got some things in mind. Call me next week.”

  Creating apps was my brother’s first love and business. Maybe that’s why we were different. Tech brains processed information like a computer did. When Chaz was in programming mode, his communication sometimes required decoding. After what happened in court earlier, I was glad we were relaxing.

  “Who’s giving up their two tickets?” I asked.

  Two was quickly becoming a good number. The two gorgeous women that were in the courtroom earlier entered, then stood near the bar, scanning the room. The one I liked caught my attention immediately. She was striking. Her cream-colored, sleeveless dress hugged her curvaceous body. The neckline covered her collarbone. The hem stopped right above her knees. The diamonds and pearl necklace complemented her diamond earrings. I’d guess five-nine and a perfect size nine. I already saw her wearing a jersey with the number ninety-nine and nothing else.

  “I thought you’d like her,” Chaz said, motioning for them to come over.

  Speaking between closed teeth, I asked, “What are you doing? I was just enjoying the view. Real men don’t stray. Remember? You know I’m a married man.”

  “On paper. You said you were open to meeting someone, and there she is,” Chaz said, then smiled. “You were so close to death—you deserve to live a little. Do like President Obama says, ‘Move forward.’ ”

  The president being the husband and family man I aspired to become, I was sure whatever my brother had in mind wasn’t what Obama had meant.

  When I saw her up close, I held my breath. I hadn’t felt this since I’d met Madison. Butterflies zigzagged in my stomach. My hand trembled underneath the table.

  Chaz stood. “Roosevelt, this is Sindy, with an S, Singleton.” He placed emphasis on “Single,” then continued. “And this is her friend Numbiya Aziz. Numbiya is my date,” he said, flicking his brows up twice.

  Sin, Sin, I thought, exhaling. Men exhaled too. But we never waited for it. It just kind of happened unexpectedly for us. I felt as though I was already cheating on Madison.

  Not wanting to be impolite, I stood and then shook their hands, as though they were here for a business meeting. If Sindy was anything like Madison, sexual pleasure definitely didn’t come with the initial acquaintance.

  Numbiya slid in. My brother sat on the side next to her. I waited for Sindy to scoot over, and then I sat on the edge away from her. Before she placed her legs under the table, I’d gotten a good look at her open-toed leopard shoes, noticing her impeccable red polish and suckable toes.

  “You can come closer, Roosevelt. I won’t bite,” Sindy said, swiping her long, straight cinnamon hair to one side. Her silver-and-gold Rolex watch, with diamonds, was like the one I’d bought and planned on giving Madison on our honeymoon in Bora Bora. That was the plan before we were married. The trip was nonrefundable; but when I told them what had happened, they said I could reschedule. If we hit it off, I’d gladly take Sindy on that vacation.

  I loved a woman who could afford to buy for herself the presents I’d give her. I wouldn’t dare give Madison any more presents. As the father of her baby, if it were mine, emotionally and financially I’d do right by Madison and my child. As my grandpa Wally would say, “Respect is for you, not the other person.”

  Suddenly I became sad, thinking about lying in that hospital bed, longing to see my wife. She never came with good intentions. I wondered if Loretta’s support was self-serving too. Damn! Why did some women have to be so devious?

  Chaz was right. I deserved to live a little.

  Sindy whispered, “Hey, you. You good? You look like you could use a hug.” Gracefully, she opened her arms.

  Her mocha lips were inviting. She had a light complexion like Madison’s. I prayed she wasn’t from Port Arthur. I had a clear view of her face. Her eyes were golden. She smiled and I inhaled an amazing scent. Everything about her was womanly. Her French manicure was impeccable. There was a diamond solitaire on her left middle finger. Her ring finger was bare. I stared at Chaz. Regardless of his good intentions, I was not ready for this beautiful woman. I couldn’t ignore her, but why had he invited them to the trial?

  We embraced. I would never forget our first hug. She didn’t pat me. Slowly she slid her hand up and down my spine as she gently scraped her nails against my back.

  Forgive me, God! This woman excited me. Why was I too sentimental? Most men wouldn’t notice how a woman felt, as long as he got between her legs. An erection was emerging. I had to let her go.

  I saw the way Granville looked at my wife in that courtroom. Grown men don’t cry in public over a woman. He was in love with Madison. Yet, he didn’t have compassion for Loretta. When Loretta was handcuffed, he was happy. What made men not go the distance for Loretta when they’d jump overboard without a life-preserver for Madison or a woman like Sindy?

  Drew placed a bottle of champagne in a silver bucket, filled with ice, at the end of the table. “Only the best for you, fellas. Suite seats, please.” He left and a waiter arrived with four flutes, filled our glasses, then whisked away.

  Answering Sindy, I said, “I’m good,” and then I looked at Chaz.

  He knew I’d like Sindy. Hopefully, there would be other times for me to get to know her. Changing my fo
cus, I asked Numbiya, “What do you do?”

  She smiled. Her natural chocolate lips exposed the whitest teeth. There was a sexy gap between her top front teeth. Her dark, radiant skin appeared soaked in shea butter. The bright red Afro was about five-inches high. She had an unconventional type of sexiness that resonated from within and beamed through her eyes. I saw why my brother was attracted. She was different.

  “I’m a sexologist.”

  A what? He’d met her where? Glancing toward my brother, I frowned. I looked at Sindy, wondering if she was one too.

  Chaz laughed.

  I held up my glass of champagne. “A toast to Numbiya, the sexologist.”

  Wasn’t quite sure what she meant; but knowing my brother, I was in for something, let’s say, “jaw-dropping and eye-opening.”

  CHAPTER 36

  Loretta

  Yesterday had been the worst day of my life.

  “It’s time for your strip search,” she’d said. “Come with me.”

  Flashing to the video of Granville’s dick going inside Madison’s ass, I had realized that it was my turn to be violated. I wondered how invasive the strip search would be. Tears had streamed down my face.

  Why hadn’t I just told the judge the truth? Ultimately I might have still ended up here, but I felt like a fool for being locked up for lying. I felt bad for what I’d done to Madison.

  “Have a seat in the BOSS chair,” she had said firmly.

  I learned “BOSS” stood for body orifice security scanner. The chair would scan my entire body for all metal objects—cell phone, weapons, and contraband.

  I sat in the seat. The arms, seat, back, and footpad were hard, boxy, and flat. I did as I was told. Didn’t need any time added to my stay. The machine beeped, but I hadn’t been sure why.

  “Do you have any mercury or gold fillings?”

  Damn. “Yes” had been all I said.

  I had to place my jaw over a circular plate, which was attached to the side of the chair. It beeped.

  “Open your mouth wide.” She looked inside. “I don’t see any fillings. Open wider,” she had said, probing my mouth. Her fingers pressed my jaws outward.

  She had started to annoy me, but I hadn’t shown it. “I have two gold fillings in the back, which are covered with white porcelain.”

  Rubbing my gums, she said, “Okay, your search is complete. You’re cleared.”

  The room that the chair was in doubled as a storage room. The walls were lined with racks stacked with tan and green prison attire, socks, blankets, and a few large brown cardboard boxes.

  I had felt relieved then. I had thought after she’d put on those rubber gloves, she was going to shove her fingers up my vagina and rectum.

  “Let’s go,” she had said, following me. “Turn right.”

  I walked a short distance in what they called the intake and discharge room. I envied the inmates checking out. She opened a door. There had been a woman waiting for me.

  The room had been small. A desk. A chair. The worker. And me.

  “Have a seat,” she said. “You’re being booked for perjury. After this interview you’ll be given the clothes you must wear and a blanket for your bed. We can either mail the clothes you have on to wherever you’d like or you can donate them. Which would you prefer?”

  Her pen had hovered over a piece of paper, awaiting my response.

  “Someone is going to bail me out today. I’m sure of that. So can’t I just wait in a holding cell down here?” I was scared. I didn’t want a bed or a blanket or their clothes. I wanted to go home.

  She smiled. “You don’t get it. Judge Owens is tough. You have to serve a mandatory thirty days. No one is getting you out before then. And if you want to get out in thirty, stay to yourself.”

  My heart had stopped for a second. Was she serious? For telling a lie I had to do that much time? It wasn’t like I was a criminal, had a record, or had even committed a real crime. A sin? Yes, one that I’d repented, and God had already forgiven me for it.

  “You can mail my clothes to my parents’ home,” I said, giving her the address.

  Someone had tapped on the door then, opened it, and handed me a short-sleeved tan pullover, tan pants, brown socks, brown underwear, and a pair of shower shoes. Refusing to touch any of it, I had sat there, staring at her. She placed them in my lap.

  “Visitation is once a week, but your visitors must be on your list. Anyone you’d like to see?” she had asked, holding her pen in position.

  Immediately I gave her my parents’ names, then added, “Tisha Thomas, Madison Tyler.”

  I had thought about Raynard, but I decided I didn’t want him to see me in here. I didn’t know what was on the video he claimed he had, or if he’d used it to try and control me.

  “Anyone else?” she had asked.

  “Yes.” I had to add his name to see if he’d return my favors. “Roosevelt DuBois.”

  She stared at me, shook her head, then put down her pen. “Let’s go.”

  There had been three of us in a line. We were escorted to the women’s unit on the sixth floor. I was shown my cell. The top bed was mine. Covering my bed with the blanket I was given, I got in and went to sleep. I hadn’t wanted dinner or conversation with my cellmate.

  Morning came an eternity after my lockup. It hadn’t been twenty-four hours, but it felt like it should be my last day.

  It was seven in the morning—wake-up call and count, and then breakfast was served. Most of us were allowed to eat in the common area. A few of the women who were notorious for starting fights had to eat in their cells.

  I sat alone. Shuffling food from one side to another, I missed my daughter.

  My cellmate sat next to me. “What you in for?”

  “I’d rather not say.”

  “Word is, you and your boyfriend, Granville, across the floor, tried to kill Chicago.”

  What the hell? “I don’t have a boyfriend, and I’ve never tried to kill anybody,” I said, talking way more than I wanted.

  Nodding upward, she said, “Eat your food.”

  “Make me” was what I wanted to say, but I wasn’t looking for trouble or trying to add time to my stay. “You can have it.”

  “I don’t want your food. I want you,” she said. “Eat it, or I’m going to eat you tonight, Lovelace.” She slid her finger along the side of my face, over my lips, and then left.

  I ate everything, praying I’d have to take a really good shit right before bedtime.

  CHAPTER 37

  Granville

  Two weeks of trial. Another two weeks of deliberation. My closing argument was probably the best the judge and jury had heard. I was confident that today I’d finally get to go home.

  This was the last time I’d be told when to eat, sleep, and wash my ass. No more free labor for the state from me. Companies paid workers in China more than seventeen cents an hour. Well, they got a lil more than four months out of me.

  Scrubbing my ass, I thought about all the times I stood at the window inside my unit, hoping to get a glimpse of Loretta dressed in prison clothes. I never saw her. She was used to wearing the boring black pants and blouse to her high-paying pharmaceutical job. Trading that for khakis every day shouldn’t matter, but I bet having girls hit on her was new. All that yap about how my dick wouldn’t work—what if she discovered she was into females and that was why she couldn’t keep me happy?

  We were on the same level now. I rinsed and then dried off my hot bod. Put on my prison gear for the last time. If I got a job and she was fired, she’d beg me to take her back. Imagining the look on Loretta’s face the day they handcuffed her made me want to pee in my pants. The whole time she was here, she was directly across the hall from me. Our narrow, rectangular-shaped window faced one another.

  Every day I took turns for the lookout with G-double-A and No Chainz to get a glance of Loretta in her new uniform. If the guard thought any one inmate was lingering too long, they covered the window from the outside with
a brown magnetic strip and blocked our view. I didn’t see Loretta the day she’d checked in, but I’d heard this was her last day too. The judge was serious about making Loretta stay thirty days. Whatever sentence they felt I deserved should be given to Loretta for making that bet with my Madison and entrapping me.

  I checked for the fiftieth time that my name was on the posted list for my verdict today. It was.

  I couldn’t wait to put on the new suit Beaux bought me with the money from pawning the $15,000 engagement ring I’d bought Loretta. Wish I had my favorite cowboy boots, but G-double-A said they were too flashy and the jury would prejudge me. I didn’t understand what difference he thought that would make on judgment day.

  Beaux had paid G-double-A’s mom what I’d hoped would be the last grand for his helping me. There was $6,500 left over from the $7,500 proceeds of the ring to pay my rent and car note for a few months. Beaux had suggested I give up my apartment, move my furniture into his garage, sell my truck, and save the cash. He’d said, “Use your money to start over fresh when you get out, bro.”

  Precious had said, “I got my own spot. Come stay with me, boo.”

  Shacking with her was my last choice, but it was better than being homeless. The second I got out, I was going to pick up where I’d left off. I wasn’t living at home with Mama, my brother, or Precious. Soon as the jury told the judge I was not guilty, I was going to my house.

  Staring at my handsome, irresistible reflection in the window of my cell, I licked my fingers and smoothed my eyebrows. I kissed the picture of Madison that I’d taped to my wall. “Love you, dear. See you soon.” I ripped the picture into tiny pieces. I didn’t want no other inmate dreaming about my woman.

  The barber had shaved my head silky smooth yesterday. I had him trim my skinny mustache extra thin for good luck.

  The guard announced, “Granville Washington.”

  No Chainz said, “Well, G, this is it. I don’t want to see your ass back here, nigga.”

  G-double-A patted me on the shoulder, and said to No Chainz, “He’ll be back.”