My Sister’s Ex: A Novel

by Cydney Rax

  “Look, Rachel. If I would have known Jeff was a jerk—”

  “You never would have messed around with him? Oh, but if he was a good and upright man, that would make it right?”

  “You don’t have to yell—”

  “I’m angry, you understand? I never thought in a million years we’d be going through this stuff. It’s not us. So give me a minute, okay? I’m working through my anger.”

  “Well, as long as you still bring me my Chinese food, I don’t care what you do.”

  “That’s sad.”

  “And don’t forget the wonton soup.”

  “Pitiful.”

  “And lots of fortune cookies.”

  “Bye, Marlene.”

  I hang up and dash over to our favorite Chinese joint, a restaurant off Bellaire Boulevard in a section known as Chinatown.

  When I go in, I decide to eat my lunch there and bring Marlene’s home. Make her wait. I ask for the moo goo gai pan lunch special, and place an order for Marlene. A cute Asian waitress dressed in a white blouse and black slacks is responsible for the area where I am sitting, close to the cash register. After she takes my initial order, she frequently walks past my table but refills my glass of tea only one time after I manage to flag her down. When I’ve finished eating, I signal to the waitress. After ten minutes she hands me Marlene’s food. Then she issues me the check and folds her arms while she waits next to my table.

  “How you pay?”

  “With cash. Why do you ask?” I tell her, irritated, because I don’t like her questioning me how I’m planning on paying. She watches me withdraw a twenty from my wallet, takes the money, then rushes away to ring up the transaction. I keep my eyes on her and notice her closely examining the currency I gave her, as if I’m trying to use counterfeit money. When she returns, she hands me a ten, two singles, and some change. Again she folds her hands and stands at my table, making me feel uncomfortable. I just sit there and play with the coins, annoyed at her behavior. She reminds me of the pharmacist I encountered at the CVS store. And the more I think about the way I was treated that night, the more agitated I get.

  Finally she backs away from my table and attends to other customers who are waving at her. When I look at the front counter and plainly see that two white male customers who were served by my waitress are paying for their meal at the register, I angrily snatch my purse and storm out of the restaurant, not leaving her even a dollar tip.

  Before my feet can even hit the parking lot, the waitress bolts through the restaurant door. “You cheap. You stingy. I work hard.”

  “You work hard at making sure my money isn’t fake,” I retort, “but you’re a terrible waitress.” I stop and stare at her. “I don’t think you need to stand over black people and make sure they pay their tab.” Still seething inside, I quickly get in my car and rush home.

  As soon as I enter the apartment, I go collapse on Marlene’s bed and stiffly lie next to her, still reeling from my unpleasant experience.

  “I’m sorry, Sis,” Marlene says, assuming she’s the one who got me bent out of shape. “I didn’t mean to stress you out. You’re right. I was wrong. I just can’t figure out why Jeff would be out there doing his thing. Why do that when he has me?”

  “That’s what we need to figure out,” I tell her. “Okay, here’s the deal.” I begin to describe how we’re all going to the restaurant to watch London and Jeff. I ask her to please act normal so Jeff won’t catch on. “He’s in for a rude awakening. I hate to make him an example, but as women, we must protect and assert ourselves,” I say. “I’m more upset with him than with you. He was my lover; he chose to be with me. You’re my family and you didn’t get to cast a vote … as far as being my sister.”

  Marlene agrees with me and promises to stick to the plan.

  A couple nights later I hear Marlene on speaker phone talking to Jeff.

  “Can we go check out a movie tonight, sweetie?”

  “Nooo, Little Mama. I gotta meet up with a tenant.”

  “Oh, yeah? Which one?”

  “Aw, some lady.”

  “Does the lady have a name?”

  “You’re being silly.”

  “No, I just don’t know why we can’t run and take care of your business and then go to the movies. You know I’ve been anxious to see the new Tyler Perry.”

  “Tyler Perry movies bash men. You know I’m not down with that.”

  I roll my eyes. “Oh, Jeff, it’s just entertainment,” Marlene says. “Plus I need a good laugh. Thank God my ankle feels better. And I really want to get out the house.”

  “Stay home and watch some of those unopened DVDs y’all have laying around there. I’ll take you out tomorrow.”

  “Hmm, okay. But can you stop over tonight when you’re done with your tenant?”

  “Huh? I don’t know how long it’s going to take. Chasing down money is stressful. I provide them with a home. All I ask is that they pay up on time. But some folks paying late, some aren’t paying at all. That’s messing with my pockets.”

  “I heard that. Anyway can I expect you later on?”

  “Argh, Marlene, please, enough with the questions. I don’t know what I’ll be doing later, but I promise to call you first if I can swing by. Will that do?”

  She makes a face but says, “That’ll work. See ya later, Jeff.”

  Marlene hangs up the phone and chuckles to herself. “That’s one of the hardest conversations I’ve ever had in my life.” She pauses and reflects. “In some ways I hope you’re wrong. I pray that this online stuff is just Jeff’s way of meeting potential tenants. I know for sure that he’s been struggling lately. One couple skipped out, moving their belongings in the middle of the night with no warning and leaving the place in shambles.”

  “Well, in my opinion, if he wanted to attract new tenants he’d advertise in the paper like a normal businessman. Trust me, he’s up to something.”

  “Well, let’s go see what he’s up to.”

  Marlene and I agree to ride with Alita, who decides to borrow Big Hen’s pickup. London travels solo to the restaurant in her black sedan. When setting up the date, London suggested meeting at someplace simple, friendly, and inexpensive and recommended a popular Vietnamese sandwich shop located downtown that serves banh mi sandwiches and vermicelli shrimp bowls, her favorites. But Jeff insisted on going all out and suggested Benihana.

  “Oh, he’s trying to show off,” I told London. “But do what he says.”

  So it’s now seven o’clock. Alita, Marlene, and I are huddled at a table in the far corner of the restaurant. London made sure to request a teppanyaki table. London looks so gorgeous, she’s absolutely glowing. She got blond highlights in her long and luxurious hair. She’s wearing a beautiful peach-colored dress suit that perfectly complements her unblemished skin. And her makeup is impeccable yet natural looking. She sits at the head of the table with an air of confidence even though there’s another family sitting across from her. I find it extraordinary that she’s comfortable enough to laugh and joke with people she’s only met several minutes before.

  Alita and I thought it best to sit next to each other so we can enjoy a full view of Jeff’s shenanigans. Poor Marlene is smiling so hard it looks like her face is about to explode. I can tell she’s nervous. I sense she’s still hoping against hope. Wishing that this whole thing turns out to be a huge misunderstanding.

  “Okay, we may as well order something while we’re here. My cousin shouldn’t be the only who gets to eat good food tonight.”

  “Have you seen the prices on this menu?” I balk.

  “Order what you like,” Marlene says. “I’ll pay. I don’t have an appetite.”

  “Your not being hungry is like Jesse Jackson saying no thanks when asked to be interviewed by CNN.”

  “Oh, be quiet. I couldn’t eat or drink anything if you paid me,” Marlene says somberly. “My stomach is in so many knots, even the best-tasting food can’t enter in.”

  “Hmm, you do
feel bad. Oh, well, let’s order,” I say with enthusiasm and snatch up the menu, happy that Marlene is willing to pay.

  London sends me a text that says, “He’s on his way. Said he had some business to handle.”

  “Hmm,” I say aloud. “Maybe his tenant alibi has some truth to it.”

  “Yeah, see,” says Marlene. “I told you, cut the man some slack. He may have messed up with Brooke, but it doesn’t mean he’s a completely soulless person.”

  “Marlene, please. If you can’t say anything worth listening to, just hush.”

  She starts to open her mouth, but I place my fingers to my lips and shake my head. From where I’m sitting, I can see Jeff being led into the restaurant in the direction of London’s table.

  “Look at how sharp he’s dressed,” Alita chirps. “If he’s trying to collect cash from tenants, wouldn’t he show up looking poor and needy?”

  Good point. Even from here I can see that the man has a fresh haircut. He’s wearing a business suit that costs at least a grand. And I know Jeff well enough to remember that he loves silk ties with unique patterns.

  “Brother Boy is looking good,” Alita says, eyeing him. “But he’s still foul. And that’s the most important issue.”

  We watch him confidently stride over to London. She stands up and grins. He pulls one hand from his back and presents her with a bouquet.

  “Incredible,” Alita says and whistles.

  “Now can you believe it?” I question my sister. “Would a landlord give his potential tenant flowers?”

  “Only if he’s trying to sleep with her,” Marlene mumbles. She sneaks a couple of peeks at them every few minutes. “This is driving me nuts. What is he saying to her?”

  I text London. Wait a few minutes. She’s too busy looking him in his face grinning and nodding to pay any attention to her cell phone. I want to walk over there so bad, but I know it’s not the time or the place.

  “What’s up with your cousin?” I casually ask Alita.

  “Oh, child, please. London is a professional dater. She’s used to men ogling her, taking her places. Believe me, none of this stuff fazes that girl.”

  “I hope you’re right.”

  “Now don’t tell me you’re starting to act funky.”

  “No, no, no,” I say hurriedly. “I’m just making sure we stick to the master plan. I wish I knew what they were talking about.”

  “She’s going to tell you everything, word for word, when it’s all over.”

  “Do you see how he’s grinning at London?” Marlene asks. Her eyes carry a type of hurt that only a brokenhearted woman knows. “I remember that’s the way he looked at me the first time we went out to celebrate my promotion. It doesn’t seem all that long ago.” Her voice sounds heavy with sadness.

  “Don’t worry, Sis,” I assure Marlene. “Jeffrey Williams is going to get double for our trouble.”

  — 18 —

  MARLENE

  You’ve Made Me So Happy

  The next afternoon, Aunt Perry, Alita, my sister, and I decide to go shopping at the Galleria Mall. Rachel and Alita completed their self-defense class a couple hours ago. Rachel is ecstatic that she got through the dreaded final test—dreaded because although the women experience lots of repetitious training and drills, none of the class is eager to do the actual fighting that’ll test their skills.

  “Ya’ll should have seen me,” Rachel brags. “All the women were suited up from head to toe in protective plastic clothing. When it was my turn, I felt like a mummy, really stiff, and it was hard to see through that helmet they made us put on. But when I went in the fight room and I saw those big guys in their fight gear coming after me, I lost it. Everything Floyd taught me flew out the window,” she says, laughing, “but I fought those guys like I was fighting for my life. Screaming, punching, kicking, hitting. I used thoughts of Jeff as my motivation and kicked one guy hard in his balls.”

  “There ya go,” Aunt Perry says. She’s walking around holding a Thirsty’s cup, but she’s pretending like her strawberry-banana yogurt smoothie is some Alizé. “That was your chance to take out your aggression on other men and not on Jeff. Not saying the man doesn’t deserve it, but it grieves me to hear ya’ll talking about what you wish you could do to the guy. Damn, I want to stomp Jeff’s ass to the ground myself, but I’m no fool. And I hope you young ladies aren’t, either.”

  “Oh, Aunt Perry,” Rachel complains, but she knows better than to say anything when my aunt gives her the look.

  “Aunt Perry, nothing. I want you to focus on other things besides jacking up Jeff.”

  “Aren’t you the one who encouraged my sister to whip my butt not too long ago?” I remind her.

  “Look. I’m old. You’re still young. You got your whole lives ahead of you. It’s one thing to have a fight with your sis. It’s a whole other ball game to be laying your hands on a non-family member. He could press assault charges. There’re plenty of women in prison who will tell you it wasn’t worth it.”

  I decide to ignore my aunt. Ever since she went to church with me, she’s had a changed attitude. I am glad for her, but I’m wondering when the real Perry is gonna make an appearance.

  We’re fighting a huge crowd of people who are streaming through the Galleria Mall like an army of ants. Kids, teens, elderly, and middle-aged moms rush from store to store checking out sales and doing some people watching. Saturday is always the busiest day at this spot. And I must admit, it feels great to be out, not tied down at home. Earlier this morning, I went to work. I felt so embarrassed for committing major errors while dealing with customers who were transacting business via the drive-through.

  Aunt Perry does her best to console me. “Honey, look at it this way. We know you’re not trying to mess up people’s accounts on purpose. Right? Right! Not my niece. We know your head ain’t on straight because you’re worried about your man. What he’s doing. Who he’s with. A lot of women go through that. Your customers should understand.”

  “Yeah, but I want to gain their trust. They’re not trying to be waited on by a cute but incompetent teller. People are already wary of banks as it is.”

  “They didn’t fire you, did they? So that means you get another chance to do better next time around, sweetie,” she says. “And no, I do not want to open an account with ya’ll.”

  “Perryyyy,” I complain, but my auntie is successful at getting me to smile.

  “Hey,” she says, motioning at Alita and Rachel. “I want to look at something in this store. Can you two meet us in front of the skating rink in a half hour?”

  “Okay,” Rachel says. “I’m going to see if there are any stores out here that sell personal Tasers.”

  Rachel and Alita huddle together and walk away, talking nonstop.

  “Did she say what I just think she said?” Aunt Perry asks.

  “She’s very serious, Auntie. Rachel may seem like she’s handling things well, but I know she’s very upset with Jeff. Last night, when we got home from the restaurant, she did something I never thought she’d do.”

  “She ate a whole gallon of ice cream.”

  “No, silly, she dumped everything Jeff ever gave her in a garbage bag and took it out to the trash compactor. That was surreal. He gave her a journal one time, a nice pair of gold hoop earrings, then there was this pretty dress he bought her right before they got engaged. A gorgeous hot pink dress that had yellow elephants on it. It never fit her, but she accepted the gift because she was shocked he’d buy something like that for her. She never wore it but kept it in the back of her closet.”

  “Mmm, girl, I still have a napkin a guy used to write his name and my name on it. Pete and Perry. Haha,” she cackles. “Those were the days. Holding on is hard. But staying attached when you need to be free is harder.”

  Aunt Perry thoughtfully gazes at me. “Come on. I want to show you something.”

  We pass alongside the skating rink, watching cute elementary school kids impatiently waiting for their turn to
break loose on the ice. The air feels so chilly when we walk by that I find myself rushing through the mall.

  “Slow down. You’re going to miss it.”

  “Miss what?” I ask.

  “Wow, it’s still there. See that?”

  I follow my aunt into EB Games. We stand behind a Hispanic kid whose hands are glued to an Xbox game console.

  “See right there?” She points. “Notice how part of the top corner of this game is chipped off? Like it’s broken?”

  “Yeah, Auntie, I see it. So what?”

  “I did that, that’s what.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “I called myself being big and bad trying to pay back this man who I felt treated me like trash. He borrowed … oh, my Lord, I’m ashamed to say this, but maybe it’ll help. He borrowed fifteen hundred dollars from me. Begged me to get a cash advance on my credit card.”

  “Hmm, interesting.”

  “I-I knew I shouldn’t have done it, but I was crazy about the guy. He knew it, too. I can’t believe I barely put up a fight. God knows I really couldn’t afford to give him that money.”

  “You gave it to him?”

  “Ha, I sure did. As soon as he got that money, girl, I could barely get his ass on the phone. Overnight, he suddenly became too busy for a sista. He avoided me for two weeks, Marlene. Told me he was ‘working on it’ and warned me if I didn’t back off, he wasn’t giving me a dime back. Well, what he have to say that for?”

  “Oh, God, what did you do?”

  “I knew he loved coming here to the Galleria every Saturday. He was younger than me and very much into playing video games. Shit, was that a hint and a half for my ass or what? So, when I see him up here buying a stupid video game, yet he says he can’t pay me back, well, this is what’s left of this console.”

  “Oh, Lord, Auntie Perry, you’re so crazy. Whatever happened to the guy?”

  “Last I heard he was serving a little time in Humble. And he’s keeping busy trying not to drop the soap.”