by Cydney Rax
I felt an odd sense of pleasure by the way Jeff’s eyes penetrated mine. His lips were thick and curled when he smiled. He made me feel warm, gooey, and sexy. I flirted with him, too, knowing full well that it might be the first and last conversation I ever had with this man. But it didn’t matter. I went for it, not making a fool of myself or seeming desperate for attention. I felt fully comfortable being who I was, Rachel Merrell. Not a beauty queen, no college degree, not the owner of a successful business. Just an ordinary girl, with an ordinary life, who wanted to experience good things with genuine people.
By the time the evening ended, Jeff had asked for my phone number, and I was happy that he knew my birthday, favorite color, all-time-favorite movies, restaurants, and a lot about my background. I felt safe with him, an extraordinary thing to realize when you’ve just met someone. And even though, ultimately, our ending turned out worse than our beginning, I want another chance at love. I don’t care how many failed relationships I experience, I hold on to the hope that there’s someone special out there designed just for me. A man who treats me with kindness and respect. Someone who makes me laugh, listens to my troubles, and shares my enthusiasm for life and love. I’ve learned so much in the past month or so. I’m ready for the promise of true love again.
I log back on to the SoulSingles site and start clicking on the criteria, making sure that it will help me to find the exact type of guy I want.
I set up new parameters and do another search. It’s amazing how dozens of profiles pop up. Yayyy me. But as I click through them one by one, discouragement fills my heart. Men who can’t spell (“She must have a since of humor”). Shallow guys (“Big booty/dime pieces only”). Or, worst of all, men who refuse to fill out the entire profile. Those guys aren’t serious. They can be compared to people looking for a job but instead of fully completing the application, they simply write: see résumé. Not impressive.
But one profile catches my eye. First, it has a photo of a giant teddy bear sitting behind the wheel of a Cadillac convertible. That makes me smile. It seems he’s got a sense of humor. Second, I love that he considers himself a workaholic, doesn’t visit bars, has no kids, and says he’s super confident. His screen name is COCKY247.
I decide to send him a flirt. Tell him I saw his profile. Let him know I think we might get along and should chat sometime. I push back from my desk and decide to chill out in the living room. I am in the mood to watch a good romantic comedy. Marlene is looking stiff and sitting at the dining room table, tapping her hand against her purse. Her eyes look vacant while she stares into space.
“Hey,” I say. “What’s up?”
“Not a whole lot.”
“I hope you aren’t still waiting on him.”
“What? Oh, well, he apologized for the other day.” Marlene was so upset at Jeff for not showing up or calling Sunday afternoon. I had to talk her out of calling him and leaving a nasty voice mail. I told her to just leave it alone. And she did.
“Oh, yeah, when?”
“Monday. He explained that he’s been sick and was under some medication that makes him drowsy. He was knocked out all afternoon and didn’t wake up till two in the morning.”
“Hmm, I remember how when Jeff would get sick he would really be down for the count.”
“That’s kind of how he explained it to me. So I accepted his apology. He said he’ll make it up to me. In a special way.”
“I see,” I tell her. “What’s he gonna do?”
“Wouldn’t say. Like it’s a big surprise.”
“Figures.” I stop and think aloud. “I cannot believe I’m having a conversation with you about my ex and I’m not freaking out like normal.”
“Me, either.” She looks almost apologetic. “Maybe Jeff and I being together is fate. That the reason you’re not so hung up over us anymore is because you two were never meant to be.”
Even though I feel I’m getting over him, her words sting. “Um, I’m not sure about all that. I know he loved me. I loved him. Our partnership was real, even if it didn’t work out.”
“Yeah, but—”
“Anyway, if you don’t mind, I want to pop in a DVD.”
“You’re not bothering me, Rachel.”
Right then, I hear a loud knock on our front door. It’s twilight by now. I go to the door and look through the peephole. But it’s too dark to see clearly what’s happening outside. So I unlock the door and open it. A flicker of light captures my attention. I step out on the balcony. The cool air feels good against my skin. Jeff is standing near the railing, a huge smile on his face. It’s obvious he’s made a table setting for two on our balcony. I notice some empty Olive Garden bags neatly folded on one of the wrought iron chairs. There’s spaghetti and meatballs, Greek salad, a basket of bread sticks, and a bottle of wine with two wineglasses.
“Wh-what’s this for?”
“Where’s that cute older sister of yours?” he asks, his voice filled with excitement.
I flinch but point toward the door. “In there.”
“Go get her.”
I stare at him, irritated by his pushiness.
“Pretty please, with sugar on top?”
“Okay,” I cheerfully tell him, but inside I am furious.
I bounce back inside the apartment. “Hey Marlene, there’s someone outside waiting for you. And it looks like you won’t need your purse or your money … this time.”
“Why you—”
“Just go,” I tell her with more annoyance in my voice than I want her to hear.
She gives me a puzzled look but does what I tell her. I watch her go outside on the balcony. She squeals in delight. And there’s no doubt in my mind that she’s grabbed him and kissed him. I return to my room, no longer caring to watch a stupid and pointless DVD.
I pick up my cell phone and call my mama. “Hey can I ask you a question?” I say when she answers the phone.
“Sure, Little Bit.”
“How long does it take to get over a man who you loved?”
“Some men, it won’t take long at all. It’s either because they treated you so bad toward the end that you know ain’t no way you could possibly put up with a man like that. Or it may take you a lifetime to get over him. Your love for that man runs so deep that you love him even if you can’t be with him anymore. You never stop thinking of him. Even if you go on to be with other people, he’s always in your heart.”
“I see.” I sigh. “I don’t know how to feel sometimes, Mama.” I bite my bottom lip. “And I may act strong, act like I don’t care, but …”
“I know, baby girl. I know. It hurts so much when it’s right there in your face. Some people have no class. Your sister, I swear to God.”
“I’m trying to be a good girl. I don’t want to lay hands on my sister anymore. I am sick of cursing her out. I am trying to do right, Mama. But what has it gotten me? I’m still all alone.” I gasp and catch my breath, trying to hold back a sob. “I’m all alone searching for a movie to look at to fill up my time, and she … he brought food over for them to eat … on a balcony. Mama? Do you know how that makes me …?”
“It’s like the fucking movie is playing out in front of you, instead of on the TV. Damn shame. That Jeff is the bastard of the year, yes he is. I don’t like to say stuff like this around you, because I know you’re still stupidly sweet on him. But …”
“Mama, it’s as if I never truly knew him. He’s not acting like the man I used to know. I don’t like the man he’s become, but I miss the man he used to be. The one I fell in love with. It sounds weird, but that’s the only way I can explain it.”
“Well, if it helps any, think less of who he used to be, but focus more on who Jeff is right now, this very second. How is the man acting now? Is he respectful? Grounded? Loving? Loyal? What he’s doing now is way more important than how great he was when you first met. But, the funny thing is, the man he seemed to be in the beginning really wasn’t him.” Mama sounds stunned, like she’s discovering hor
rible truths about Jeff herself.
“Hmm, it’s awful, unreal.” I nod and wipe some hot tears that slide down my cheeks. I don’t want to cry. But I don’t know how else to deal with the hurt that lives inside of me. Hurt I’ve never fully processed. “Mama, I guess I know what you mean. It’s like Jeff is showing his true nature.” I sniff and wipe my nose. “And if that’s how he really is, could I have truly been in love, or was I just deceiving myself?”
“Ha,” Mama yelps like she’s reflecting on ancient memories. “God knows I swore up and down I loved this man or that one. At the time he’s all I could think about, couldn’t imagine living a day without hearing his voice. But then, when the relationship is over, I look at his picture and don’t feel a thing. The sun doesn’t rise and fall on the guy anymore.
And I question why all the love I used to have went away. Where is the love that I swore would last forever?”
“That’s how I feel, Mama. And that’s why I wonder if my relationship is all I imagined it to be. It’s what I’ve thought about when it came to me and Jeff. I still don’t know the truth.”
“Time will tell, Little Bit. Time always tells.”
Mama and I talk a few more minutes. I promise to drive out and check on her this week. “Yes,” she says. “Do that. I need you. Been wanting to see you in person.” It would do me good to help her with housecleaning and other chores that have been neglected.
Right now I could use something to drink. My throat feels dry, like I’ve been sleeping with my mouth open all night. Plus my tongue feels thick and gummy, probably because of my crying spell. When I enter the kitchen, the lights are off in the living room. The DVD player is running. I can see the movie Love Jones flashing across the big-screen TV. Marlene’s huge butt is sitting directly on Jeff’s lap, her huge arm snugly wrapped around his neck. They look happy and relaxed on a corner of the couch. I notice sounds of lips smacking against each other every couple of seconds as they watch the movie. Bile rises to the top of my throat. I hold it in. I rush to the refrigerator and pour a glass of cold lemonade and return to my room as soon as I can.
“I gotta do something, gotta get out of here,” I say aloud. I arch my neck and chug down the whole glass of lemonade in a few gulps. It tastes sweet, cold, and good.
Something tells me to go check my SoulSingles account.
“Hey now,” I say to myself. COCKY247 has sent me a flirt and two e-mails. I see that he sent these to me as soon as I sent him a flirt a while ago. I like his responsiveness. His flirt is pretty standard. His e-mail isn’t.
Hello HoneyBrownTX. Your screen name is pretty. Let me cut to the chase. I’ve been on this site for three months. Sure, I’ve met a couple of women here and there. Things didn’t work out. No hard feelings. But there’s something about your photo. I love the fire in your eyes. And your smile makes me want to get to know you for myself, so I can make you smile. I am an honest, hardworking black man who loves life and enjoys experiencing good things (when I get the time). I am not in a serious relationship. No baby mama drama. No priors. Sound good so far? Enough about me. I want to hear more from you. Oh, I’ve attached my photo so you can decide if you want to meet me in person or not. Please be kind. It’s not my best photo (plus I look way more handsome in person). You can call me Denzel. Cocky247 is just an attention-getter (smile).
I decide to review his profile again. We have so much in common. He likes going out for long rides in the country and wants to travel to Europe. He loves music, the same artists as me (T.I., The.Dream, Ciara, and Rihanna). And he loves the NBA (favorite team: the Spurs).
“This is sounding kinda good here.” I pick up my cell and speed dial Alita.
“What’s up, Hardly Berry? Is London with you? I want her to do something for me.”
“Yep, she’s here. I’ll put you on speaker.”
“Yo, Mama, what’s going on?” London says.
“Girl, I am sitting here at my computer, and there’s this guy … I am really feeling the things he’s telling me. His words are like poetry. I want you to go meet him for me.”
“No problem. When?”
“Don’t know. I haven’t written him back yet. When’s a good time for you?”
“Friday night is cool. Um, let’s say dinner around seven?”
“Okay but hold up, I gotta check his schedule.” I laugh and feel excited yet mischievous.
“I want to do this,” I continue saying, “but what if he’s my dream man? If he knows I posted a fake photo, he may not want to have anything to do with me. I am scared of messing up my chances.”
“So what are you thinking of doing?” Alita asks. “Do you want to come clean now? Or come clean during y’alls fuck session?” She bursts out laughing.
“Oh, you’ve got jokes, huh?” I say, irritated. “Please, Alita, it’s not funny. I’m having a serious anxiety attack. I can feel my shoulders tensing up.” I take a deep breath. “But I want to do this. And I pray that he’s a hundred times better than weed-smoking Smoky.”
“So true,” London says. “Anyway, so what’s this guy look like so I’ll know who to look for at our date?”
“Oh, snap,” I yelp. “He sent me an attachment, but I was so busy reading his profile that I forgot to take a look. Let me open it now.”
I click on the photo and wait for the picture to upload.
I gape. Stand to my feet. Hold my fingers to my neck. Gasp.
“Damn, girl,” Alita says. “Is he that fine? You sound like you’re about to faint.”
“I am,” I manage to tell her. “The photo on this guy’s profile … is Jeff.”
I sit down, nervously run my fingers through my hair. “What’s he doing on this man’s … Maybe he’s doing a friend a favor and letting him use his photo, like us?” It’s more like a question than a statement. Because my mind is zooming in so many different directions, none of what I’m thinking makes sense.
“Mother …” Alita says. “Are you serious? Jeff is on the down-low on a dating site?”
London starts giggling in the background. “Ooo wee, we’re going to have some fun, ya’ll. Set up the date, Rachel. Set it up. He doesn’t know me. I’ll fix his ass.”
“Wait, ladies,” I tell her and start whispering. “Check this out. Oh my God. Jeff is a few feet away in my living room, probably licking Marlene’s toes. Yuck! I hate to think where his mouth has been last.” I stand up, pace the room. “What should I do? Tell me,” I plead.
“I think you should answer him like everything is normal,” Alita tells me. “Set up the fucking date. And I don’t care how hard it is for you, do not talk to Jeff and let him know you’re aware of the shit he’s trying to pull.”
— 14 —
MARLENE
There’s Something You Need to Know About Jeff
“You feel so good I wanna bite you,” Jeff tells me. His middle finger is moving back and forth in my vagina. And it’s very juicy down there, so wet I can hear swishing sounds.
“Oh, Jeff, stop it.”
“No, I can’t stop, Beautiful Girl.” He thrusts his finger deeper inside me. It hurts, but I like this type of pain. My eyes roll in the back of my head. “Let’s go,” I moan. “Right now.”
He twists and turns his finger and develops a back and forth rhythm. My hips rock with him trying to match his pace. He slowly removes his finger from inside me and stands up. He reaches toward me and hoists me up in his arms. I feel like a kid being carried by her father.
“Oh my God,” I say laughing but trying not to be too loud. “You’re shocking me, Jeff. That’s what I like about you, love about you.” I rest my head against his warm neck and enjoy the feel of his skin against mine.
“You love me?”
I nod, then move my face toward his lips and kiss his mouth and his chin.
“That tickles,” he complains, “but keep going.”
I laugh and kiss him again. It feels so good to be with Jeff right now. He’s been pulling out all the stops tonigh
t. I love how romantic he is. He surprised me with dinner on the balcony from my favorite restaurant. He made me open my mouth and fed me delicious spaghetti. I shivered when he slowly inserted that fork in my mouth. I could taste his tongue and his body right then and there. He didn’t even let me pick up my own bread sticks, said that he wanted to take care of everything. He poured me a tall glass of wine. And he entwined his hand around mine and we toasted.
“To us,” he proclaimed.
“To us,” I repeated and took a sip of the best wine I’ve ever tasted.
We relaxed on the balcony him looking me deep in my eyes in a way he’s never looked at me before. And it’s easy to predict that this man will be in my bed tonight. But it’s getting late. I have to get up early to go to work. Jeff’s been so busy lately working hard. But we need this. I deserve this.
Jeff drops me on the bed and cracks up when the mattress bounces and the bed squeaks. “It’s like sailing in a boat on the ocean,” he says, winking. “Hey, don’t go anywhere.”
He stares at me and walks backward until he reaches my bedroom door. He secures the lock without taking his eyes off me. It’s like he’s in a zone. A love zone.
“May I undress you?” he asks.
I nod and wait for him to come to me.
He removes his leather jacket. I can hear his e-mail buzzer going off on his cell. He picks up his device, pushes a button, and the buzzing sound ceases. I want to melt even more. When a man is with a woman and he turns off his cell phone, you know he wants her undivided attention. And right now he’s letting me know that nothing is more important than the time we’re about to spend together.
“You’re so sexy,” he tells me. “I’ll bet you haven’t heard that too often, have you?”
“I dunno.” I shrug, not trying to remember what other men have said to me in the past. Who cares? All I care about is spending time with Jeffrey Williams. He possesses a magnetism that’s difficult to ignore. Even when I’ve gotten upset with him for being inconsiderate, and I tell myself I won’t brush aside his mess anymore, those feelings disappear each time he calls. He starts off calling me sweet names that make my ears tingle. Then he apologizes: “I’m sorry, baby.” He promises he’ll do better. Then he talks about the future and what he wants us to do together. Instead of screaming because I’m mad, I want to scream with happiness.
