by Cydney Rax
Foolish me.
While I continued to weep, Jeff resumed ranting and raving, actually screamed at me the way a ten-year-old boy screams at his little sister for losing his favorite video game.
I was standing up by then, shoulders shaking uncontrollably, and, wishing I could hide, I slowly backed away from Jeff. He rushed at me, grabbed my hand, and forcibly removed the engagement ring from my finger; he twisted and turned and pulled on the ring until it popped off, making my skin look bloodred. He peered angrily at the ring, then shoved it in his pocket.
Boy, was it beautiful: eighteen-carat white gold with sixteen exquisite diamonds. It always flashed brilliantly in the sunlight, partially blinding me whenever I stared at it with dreamy eyes. I went to bed wearing that ring, showered with it on, always gently stroked its beauty with my fingers. But I guess I should have loved the man more than the ring. And after Jeff snatched and concealed the jewelry he stared at me with hateful, water-filled eyes. He looked like he wanted to say something else but abruptly turned and walked away from me.
I watched my now ex-fiancé’s back grow smaller until a lonely distance was created between us. When I couldn’t handle looking at him anymore, I fled to my car, trying to leave Memorial Park as fast as possible.
I got in my car and drove toward home, still weeping and mumbling, “Oh God, oh Jesus, please help me, I’m about to lose my mind. I’m sorry, I’m sorry, so sorry.”
I felt so distraught and confused that I missed my exit driving south on I-59 toward Sugar Land. Every landmark flashed by me so fast. I quickly sped past a shopping complex called The Fountains, the Kim Son Restaurant, Borders bookstore. Further down the road and across the highway was the defunct Bill Heard Chevrolet. I drove with such speed I felt as if I were ascending toward a place I’ve never been.
And remembering the day that I broke up with him, I find myself here, alone in the apartment. I tightly hold the phone in my hand and listen to my ex romance my sister. I think deeply about my relationship with Jeffrey Williams. Why on earth would Marlene betray me by going out with Jeff? I wonder about where I have been, and try to figure out where I’m going.
— 2 —
MARLENE
The Jeffrey Williams Way
“Wooo, Jeff, be careful,” I sweetly tell him as I stick a forkful of steak and mushrooms near his open mouth. The well-done meat is sizzling and dripping with savory brown juices.
“Mmm,” Jeff moans, eating up everything off the fork. “That tastes sooo good, Marlene. More, more, more.”
I giggle and continue feeding this starving man. “You like that, Jeffy Jeff?”
“I love it, girl, but I feel guilty. I should be feeding you. You’re the one who deserves to be honored.”
“Awww, that’s so sweet. But it’s cool. I love doing this; just don’t let that meat burn your tongue. What on earth can I do with a burnt tongue, you know what I’m saying?” I hope Jeff understands my sense of humor and realizes it’s also an attempt to show him I am a sensual woman. He’s ever so polite, and I want to get him to be more than just a good friend to me. When I ran into him today at Walgreens during my lunch break, we caught up on the current happenings. He’s still purchasing and renting out property all over Houston. I’m still doing the bank thing and am contemplating taking a night class at the University of Houston. All safe, simple info. But I was careful not to mention Rachel. She was like the big ole elephant standing in the itty-bitty room, and I wanted to keep it that way. Instead of bringing her up, I excitedly mentioned the fact that my boss promoted me to lead bank teller earlier today.
“Yep, Jeff, it’s cool to be doing something different. I’ve been at the darned bank more than three years now, and they’re just now recognizing a sista’s skills.”
“Well, congrats, Marlene. Hey, we ought to do something special. You wanna go out with me tonight? Do a little something something to celebrate your promotion?”
“Hey, I’m cool with that.” Inside I was screaming with pure excitement over the fact that Jeff wanted to go out, but outwardly I feigned an expression that suggested I didn’t give a care one way or the other. I feel it’s important to show a little interest but never act too desperate. Although I’ve always liked him, it doesn’t mean that he feels the same about me. Plus, I noticed that he didn’t seem to be concerned about Rachel, which made me wonder about his motives. Is it an innocent dinner? Would Rachel even care if I spent time with her ex? I felt a teensy nervous about what she may think but was too thrilled about going out with him to even second-guess what I was doing at the time.
“Alrighty then, let’s just meet up at seven or so,” Jeff told me. “I would scoop you up, but I got to meet a couple potential tenants at one of my properties on the north side.”
I really didn’t believe him when he said he would pick me up. After all, I live with his ex. I’m not sure if he wants to face Rachel under those circumstances. And I am not ready to face her, either. How would I be able to explain our being together? Besides, if it turns out to be just dinner, there won’t be any need to tell her anything.
So that’s how we hooked up at a restaurant. Wasn’t planned at all. Yeah, I got real lucky. But before meeting Jeff for dinner, I needed to make a little pit stop at my church, Solomon’s Temple. As a high-ranking member of the college scholarship committee, I’d taken home tons of papers a few days ago, prescreening applicant info that I insert into a nice fancy spreadsheet. As soon as I returned the scholarship applications back to ST’s administrative office, I sped to the steak restaurant, eager to meet up with my sister’s ex.
I went on about my merry little way, and, quite naturally, I wasn’t about to tell Rachel where I was going and who I was meeting to celebrate my good news. That would’ve been like asking Flavor Flav to get a face-lift. Dude thinks he’s fine just the way he is, so there’s no need to insult him about the way his face looks. And that’s how Rachel would’ve felt: insulted, pissed, hurt, wounded, every negative adjective in the dictionary.
But if things go the way I hope they will, I will have to figure out a nice way to get this girl to calm down and maybe grow used to the idea of a Jeffrey Williams and Marlene Draper hookup. I may be rushing things, but, shoot, when it comes to love, strange things happen. People fall in love at first sight. They end up with someone they hadn’t counted on. So you can’t help who you fall in love with. Rachel’s twenty-two; she oughta know that. And just because things didn’t work out between her and Jeff doesn’t mean I’m not allowed to get to know him better, right? Show me the written rule that says she and I can never be attracted to the same guy. If Chance and Real both knowingly went on the I Love New York reality show to compete for the same woman, then it’s also not unusual for me to be attracted to a guy Rachel’s dated.
“Hey baby, taste this,” I say to Jeff. I gently press a forkful of veggies against his open mouth. I didn’t feel as if I was overly flirting by calling Jeff “baby.” In the South, that’s just our standard friendly way of talking to people. Certain people.
“Mmm, it’s good.” He takes one bite but then glances closely at the food. “Ooo, hey don’t do that,” Jeff says, laughing.
“What?”
“Um, I don’t do broccoli. I like the cauliflower and carrots, but broccoli makes me break out.”
“Oh, sorry. I’ll have to remember that. You know I can throw down in the kitchen.”
“I’m sure you can,” he says, and eyes me up and down. “I’ve tasted your delicious cooking before.”
“Oh, yeah?” I say, smiling into his eyes and ready to hear how we’re connected in a way I didn’t realize.
“Yep, Rachel would …” and his strong voice turns into a weak whisper. And I flinch at hearing her name again, but am determined not to let his conscience spoil our night.
“Hey, let’s toast,” I say, changing the subject.
“Damn, you’re right. Sorry.” He smiles and picks up his glass of wine, raising it high above our table. “T
o Marlene Draper. Congratulations on your promotion, the increase in salary, and to your fabulous new beginnings at Compass Bank.”
“… and new beginnings for my life, period,” I say with determination. “This promotion makes me feel like I can improve in other parts of my life. Including my love life, which hasn’t been the most wonderful.”
“Oh, yeah?” Jeff grins. “What’s been going on?”
“I just haven’t met the kind of guy who gets me excited to wake up in the morning, you know what I’m saying? But today, right now, I just feel encouraged about my future,” I say and smile broadly. “You feel me?”
“I do understand. When good things happen, even if they are tiny, you feel hope about everything around you.”
“I couldn’t have said it better myself, Jeff.”
We clink glasses. He starts to take a sip of his wine, but I clear my throat. “Excuse me.”
“What?”
“We need to wrap our hands around each other, and I’m supposed to spill a little of my drink into your glass and vice versa.”
“Huh?” Jeff frowns.
“Toasting is to ensure that there’s no poison in our drinks. That we both trust each other enough to drink from the same glass. That way I know you aren’t trying to kill me.” I laugh.
“Woman, excuse me, but that sounds ridiculous. For all I know you could be trying to kill me,” he says with seriousness. “Hey, I’m just trying to give major props to a sista that’s getting her grind on. Listen! You drink out of your glass, I drink out of mine.”
His defensiveness makes me eye him closely. Whatever. I’ll do what he wants. This time!
“Okay chill out, Jeff. I was just trying to do it the right way.”
“When you hang out with me we’re going to do it the Jeffrey Williams way. Is that all right, sweetheart? Baby doll? Beautiful girl?”
And I smile and melt and melt again, and I agree to do things the Jeffrey Williams way.
While sitting there I feel self-conscious. What if someone who knows Rachel pops up in the restaurant? Would it be embarrassing? Would I try to act like everything is cool? I feel like people are looking at me, but I can’t help how wonderful it feels to be around Jeff. He makes me laugh; he is very complimentary; and considering how busy he is with his job, the fact that he is using his time to celebrate with me means a lot.
As soon as we finish our delicious meal and freshen up in the lavatory, Jeff kindly pays the tab and walks me to my car, a pink Volkswagen Beetle with a cream-colored convertible top. It’s the cutest little car that any confident and flirty woman can own. I feel on top of the world every time I drive the darned thing!
“Hey, nice ride. Is this new?” he says, closely examining its body.
“Yep, I traded in my SUV for something, you know, a little more flirty and a lot more fly. Plus, I’ve always wanted a convertible. Always wanted to drive something that makes people stare.”
“I knew there was something I liked about you. You know, Rachel … oops, I meant to say, Marlene, I gotta drive you around in my newly purchased Mach 1. I paid cash for it a few weeks ago. Red body. Black stripes with hood pins and louvers. I named her Ella, and she’s the most important thing to me in the world, beside my rental properties.”
He was talking about his car, but I was silently fuming about how he’s mentioned my sister several times in thirty minutes. I guess her being in the periphery of his mind is something that comes with the territory. Will I be able to deal with that?
“Hey, I’m game, baby boy. I love driving, especially on a beautiful Sunday afternoon when the weather is just right. Sun shining bright, no clouds in the sky. Ooo wee!” I laugh. I want him to think that his slipup calling me Rachel doesn’t faze me.
“Sounds like a plan. Anyway, follow me and we’ll go hang out at my crib. This here is my work ride,” he says, sounding calm and confident. “I’m sure you remember my other car …” His voice drifts off. “As you can tell, I love cars.” Jeff walks a few feet away and points at an all-white Honda sedan that is sitting directly under the parking lot lights. “It’s a good five years old but well maintained. Main thing is it gets me from point A to point B.”
I like how he’s freely sharing with me some of the things he loves most in his life. He walks me back to my car again, then enters and starts his Honda, backs out, and blows his horn. I follow close behind him as he heads for his place.
While I’m alone driving in my Volkswagen, Blinky rings me up, but I’m not really in a Blinky mood right now.
“Hey, Daughter Number One, whatcha doing, whatcha doing?”
“Hi, Blinky,” I say coolly. “I’m out and about. That’s what I’m doing.”
“Oh, well, don’t forget to swing on by the crib Sunday. Around two o’clock.”
“Dang, who told you?” I complain. Monday is Blinky’s birthday, but the family is getting together to celebrate one day early.
“Y’all know you can’t keep nothing from me. Shoot, I’m almost sixty, and I didn’t reach this age by being dumb.”
“No comment, Daddy. No comment.”
“Are you trying to call your daddy dumb?”
“You say you’re not dumb, but you don’t know what ‘no comment’ means? Where’s Mama?” I say, changing the subject.
“She’s bent over a sink messing with some turnip greens, black-eyed peas, and corn on the cob, and she’s about to get into some crawfish, getting them good and ready for ya.”
“Oh, wow, crawfish, your favorite. Yep, I’ll be at your little so-called surprise party.”
“Good, darling, I can’t wait to see ya. Now where’s Rachel?”
“Um, probably at home. Playing flip TV. Sleeping for hours. You know Rachel.”
“Damn shame. I hope she’s not still depressed.”
“If she is it would be all her fault for ending her relationship with a good man. Times are hard right now when it comes to men and women sticking together for the long haul. Everybody knows that. And finding a good man who’ll treat you like a queen is like stumbling upon gas that’s a dollar a gallon. Now, she’s the real dumb one, Blinky.”
“Hey, Pretty Girl, don’t be talking smack about your younger sister. She needs you right now, needs you to be in her corner, not talking her down to people.”
“Well, if she doesn’t wanna get talked down, she’s gotta stop with the dumb stuff. I mean, jeez, any strong, intelligent woman knows that. I’ve known so many women who kicked out their boyfriends and are now crying for them to come back. She should’ve thought about the consequences of her decision before regretting it a week later.”
I guess my bad attitude is my way of justifying the fact that I’ve sneaked and gone out with her ex. If she didn’t want him, isn’t he free to find a woman who will?
“Pretty Girl, you’re not acting too pretty right now. Humph, I didn’t see you taking your own advice when you were down in the dumps after your failed relationships.”
“Blinky, you can’t compare me to Rachel, now can you? Nope, don’t answer, because you can’t. I hate when you do that.” He always defends Rachel. I’m not sure why.
“You ain’t any better than her, so get off your high horse.”
“Blinky, she owes me two hundred dollars—”
“Ha,” he laughs. “Girl, you better kiss that money goodbye. You know how Rachel is. Treat it like a gift instead of a loan. And how did we get on the subject of someone owing someone money?”
“Blinky, from six A.M. to six P.M., you’re always taking her side, but she doesn’t deserve it.” I have always been overly sensitive about how my daddy defends my sister.
“Okay, Pretty Girl, I can hear you getting all upset. I’ll back down,” he says quietly. “But frankly I don’t see how you two live in the same apartment with the attitude you got, Marlene.”
“My attitude? Ha!”
“Why you yelling, huh?” Blinky asks, and I realize it’s in my best interest to calm down. It wouldn’t be cool
to go to Jeff’s place in a rotten mood.
“No, we’re straight, Blinky,” I say and dab at the corner of my eye with my finger. A twinge of guilt gnaws at me, since my daddy doesn’t know I’m following behind my sister’s ex, going over to hang out at his place. I attempt to keep my voice reassuring and strong. “For real, you shouldn’t be overly worried. Everything is okay between us, and if it’s not it will be. Nothing we haven’t been through before.”
“Your voice sho sounds funny.” I don’t say anything to him. He continues, “And where you going so late at night?”
“Blinky, how you know I’m in my car?”
“Daughter Number One, do I sound like I was born yesterday? I know things. I always know things.”
My daddy has always been able to sense things about me and my life and has no qualms speaking his mind; he rarely backs down from putting me in my place. I guess he and I are alike when it comes to that. We don’t mind facing what scares us.
One thing I’ve learned in my twenty-six years of living is that even if you are scared out of your mind, sometimes you gotta act on your fears. You gotta be brave enough to walk out on that long diving board and take the plunge. Because that’s the only way you’re going to get anywhere or gain anything worth having. Playing it safe doesn’t belong anywhere in my life. And all that scared-acting stuff is not the right move for Marlene Draper. I guess I inherited that attitude from our daddy Vaughn Draper, aka Blinky I’m told he was given that nickname because as a baby he blinked all the time like something was caught in his eye. The name stuck. Well, this man is not a baby; he is an experienced man who will take a risk even if it damn near kills him. And so far death has escaped him, because, in our family, living to see sixty is a major accomplishment. I plan to follow in his footsteps. Taking chances and living life in such a way that it helps me get what I want. And I want a chance to be with Jeff.
