by Cydney Rax
I touched Aaron’s hand, ran my fingers alongside his knuckles, picked up his hand and pressed it against my lips.
“Babe, you’re so good to me,” he said.
“What did you say?” I asked.
His eyes widened. “I said something wrong?”
“No, usually I’m the one who says ‘you’re so good to me.’ I’m surprised to hear you say that. Never thought I’d hear you say that.”
“Well, it’s true. I know I should have called you sooner than what I did. But I was so exhausted and Daddy’s health was key. I was just hoping you weren’t getting pissed at me and feeling like I was out doing something behind your back. Because I wouldn’t do that to you, and even if I were to do it, it would be in front of your face.”
“Oooh, you make me sick,” I told him and fell against Aaron’s head, pressing upon him like my bones had melted and I was fainting.
“Hey, I’ll help you get better too . . . baaabbbyyy.”
My insides warmed over like a sudden wave of heat showing up on a frosty winter day. I kissed the sides of his face and his moist nose, and blew my warm and sweetened breath on his eyelids. Even though I could tell he sucked in his breath so as not to smell mine, I didn’t hate on him, didn’t pop him upside the head. I held Aaron close in my arms, feeling like I was his mother in a way, yet loving him like his lover.
Lauren 29
The first Saturday in February, I worked the 10:30-to-2:30 shift. Once I punched out, instead of asking Mom to pick me up, I caught Metro. First thing I did when I got home was dial up Regis. Earlier in the week she’d mentioned something about hanging out.
“Rege, what’s up this weekend?”
“Hey, heifer. Uh, me and some of the crew going joy-riding tonight. Wanna roll?”
“Sure, I ain’t got nothing better to do. Who is ‘some of the crew’?”
“Well, Justine’s sister gave her a car last Christmas, and she’s our chauffeur. My cousin Hope is over, so she game. Then Zoe and Lia coming, too.”
“What about Charisse?”
Regis laughed. “What about her?”
“Oh, it’s like that, huh? Well, anyway, shoot, how many of us are going? One, two, three . . . six people. We can all fit in Justy’s car?”
“Yeah, we’ll fit. Don’t even sweat it.”
After that conversation, it felt good to know I had the place to myself. I mostly poked around the house, opening and closing the refrigerator every ten minutes until the girls came and scooped me up. That was around seven. Since my mother never showed up that afternoon or even bothered to call home, I decided not to leave her a note on the fridge.
Let her worry.
If only I were that fortunate.
“HEY, Y’ALL, WHAT’S HAPPENING?” I said, sitting down and fastening my seat belt.
“Whassup? Your hair looking cute, girl,” Zoe said. I turned my head around so she could see the back, too.
“Thanks. I know I’m blazing,” yelled Regis, who was sitting up front. Regis’s hairstyle, a display of tiny ringlets bunched up on top of her head, was so crisp it crackled. I could smell the holding spray before I even got in the car. She started patting the top of her hair and smiling.
Zoe stared at Regis. Then she turned back toward me and laughed. “I like those knots in your hair, Lauren.”
“Thanks, Zoe.” Ever since the beginning of the year, I’d been sporting Nubian knots on the crown of my head; the edges were resting at my shoulders in a light flip. Guys would usually look at me longer than a little bit, and I’d look back at them, but so far no phone numbers had been exchanged, no love connections made.
“Hey, boo, we ain’t seen you in a while. This is going to be fun, y’all. Just like at the slumber party.” That was Lia.
“Yeah, I could use a girls’ night out. Hey, can someone turn up the radio?” I asked.
I was squeezed behind the driver’s seat, next to the window. The seating arrangements were myself, Zoe, and Lia in the back. Up front Justine had the wheel, Hope was in the middle, and Regis had the window seat.
“Happy now?” asked Hope turning up the radio and bouncing and waving her hands. “The Thong Song” by Sisqo was on.
“Aw, heck. Every time I turn on the radio, that song is either coming on or going off,” complained Justine. She was heading north on Beltway Eight.
“What, you got something against Sisqo? Shoot, he sexy,” yelled Regis.
“Define sexy.”
“Uh, Justy, what planet are you from? The boy got the moves, the money, and the mike. What else he need? What else you need, Justy?” asked Regis.
“I like intelligence,” Justine said firmly.
“Duh, this is Houston.” Regis laughed. “Ain’t too many intelligent guys here. You gotta go to Austin to get that.”
“Oh, I don’t think so,” said Justine. “There’s some intelligent guys here. You might have to go to a college campus to find them, but they’re here, right, Lauren?”
“What you say?” I yelled, and leaned toward the front.
“Lauren’s not the one to ask. She and her college guy bit the dust,” shouted Regis, who was rocking in her seat and singing.
“Ooohh. What happened? I thought y’all were tight,” Lia asked, and leaned across Zoe to peer at me.
“Aaron dumped Lauren like a pot of burned rice.”
I reached across Zoe and squeezed the flab on Miss Bigmouth’s neck.
“Ouch. Lauren, stop. You know I’m telling the truth,” Regis moaned, rubbing her pinched skin.
“Well, no one asked you to do that, Regis. I know how to talk for myself.”
“Well, talk, sister, talk.”
“Regis, you need to quit,” I told her, almost wishing that I hadn’t agreed to hang out with the crew.
“No, I don’t. Now go ahead and tell us, Lauren. I wanna hear this one myself, ’cause you never told me the whole story.”
“Thank the Lord I didn’t. It’d be on Headline News by now.”
“Seriously, Lauren,” urged Justine. “Please tell us what happened.”
“Okay,” I told Justine. “But first, could Hope turn down that music? I can’t even hear myself talk.”
“Well, make up your mind,” said Hope. “First you want it up, then you want it down. What I look like? Kunta Kinte cloth?” she said jokingly.
With Sisqo’s voice now a faint cry, I leaned toward the front and looked around at all the crew. “Well, my boyfriend, rather ex-boyfriend, dumped me because . . . I wouldn’t give him none.”
“That bastard,” said Hope.
“Ole scrub,” added Lia.
“Ah, that sucks, Lauren,” said Zoe. “I mean, how did it happen? He just came right out and told you the reason why?”
“Well, he didn’t say it directly, but he did in so many words. I still can’t believe it, and it’s been about six weeks now.”
“If he dumped you over that, you didn’t need him anyway. You’ll find someone more deserving of you, girl.”
“Thanks, Justy.”
“So, when’s the last time you talked to the foul Negro?” asked Lia.
I squirmed in my seat. “You know, I don’t know. I—I try not to think about it.”
“I know that’s right. Huh, I’ll bet he was screwing someone else, tipping out on you while you trying to be faithful to his cheatin’ ass,” said Regis.
I smiled. I hoped that wherever Aaron was, he knew we were talking about him.
“So tell me something, Lauren. Did you have any idea that he was cheating on you, assuming that he was?” asked Justine.
“I didn’t have a clue.” I said this with bitterness. “Aaron was as slick as Clinton, and Clinton ain’t that slick.”
“Huh, I don’t see how you missed that one, Lauren. Ray Charles could have seen that,” claimed Regis.
“Well, Ray better be glad he wasn’t dating Aaron,” I said softly, and looked out the window.
As soon as I let those words out of my mo
uth, Justine made a right turn, heading east on Westheimer. Westheimer is Houston’s primary street for joy-riding and hanging out, kind of like a scaled-down version of Hollywood’s Sunset Boulevard.
Soon after making our turn, Lia yelled, “Hey, any of y’all’s wallets flowing tonight?”
“Sounds like yours ain’t,” murmured Regis. She pulled out a bill. “I got a five. Why?”
“How ’bout the rest of y’all?” Lia said looking around at us.
“I’m broke,” snapped Hope.
“I got a ten,” chimed in Justine.
“I got three bucks and fiddy-two cents,” said Zoe.
“And I have about seven or eight dollars, I think,” I said.
“Hey, y’all, let’s go and get two twenty-piece McNuggets,” Lia suggested.
“Oh no. In case you forgot, I work at Mickey D’s,” I reminded Lia.
“So what? It still tastes good, and I want some nuggets.” She laughed like what I thought didn’t mean a damn thing.
“Justy, there will be a McDonald’s on the left-hand side, right before you get to, uh, South Voss, I think,” said Zoe.
I rolled my eyes and slumped in my seat.
Seems like a few minutes later we pulled up to the McDonald’s.
With Regis leading the way, us girls filed into the restaurant.
Soon as we neared the service counter, I noticed them: my mom and my ex pulling up to the pickup window. Aaron was in the driver’s seat. Mom sat next to him, smiling. I got this awful feeling in the pit of my stomach, like I’d just got the news that someone died, and I didn’t want to believe it even if it was true.
But as close as they seemed, I was relieved that they were outside, that we didn’t suffer the drama of them actually coming inside the restaurant.
Thank God for small blessings, I thought, when I saw the car lurch away.
We went ahead and placed our order and were glad to find empty seats.
“So, Lauren,” Justy was saying to me while we waited on our nuggets, “do you regret not giving Aaron any loving?”
Fortunately she was sitting right next to me and talked in a low voice so that Regis and the others couldn’t hear. When I heard her question, it seemed like an opening that I’d been waiting for. Although I’d hardly admitted it to myself, I realized that, yes, I was very torn up over what had happened between me and Aaron, especially since I’d decided to wait to have sex based on Mom’s recommendation. The fact that she could advise me, yet didn’t know how to keep her own self in line, just made me wish I hadn’t listened to her in the first place. She got to know what I was missing out on, and somehow that just didn’t seem fair. Somehow it seems when you’re committed to doing the right thing, the wrong things happen.
“Well, Justy, I’d be lying if I said I don’t have some regrets. I mean, I didn’t want to be with Aaron because every other girl seems like she’s already been with her boyfriend,” I said, and swallowed deeply. “More than anything, I wondered if he was the right one, and the fact that he couldn’t wait for me, well, that made me wonder . . .”
I couldn’t go on, unable to imagine that the guy I strongly believed was the best real boyfriend—the only real boyfriend—I ever had, turned out to be someone who I wasn’t really sure cared about me. I felt major dumb, used in a way, even though I never even gave Aaron a significant part of my body. It was the principle. The fact that he could promise me one thing and do another, and then to get with . . .
I decided to hop up right then and fill my cup with Sprite and lots of ice.
By that time Regis, Lia, and Zoe were coming toward our table, carrying a couple of trays. Just as I was passing them, Regis stopped walking and pointed. “Hey, y’all, look over there.”
I saw what she saw, and wished for the first time in my life that I didn’t have the gift of sight.
“What?” Hope asked.
“Lauren, what’s your momma doing here with Aaron?”
“It’s not what you think it is,” I blurted, and looked at the floor.
“Uh-uh, I don’t even believe them,” Regis said. “They got some nerve. Your momma’s acting like she in high school or something. Hanging out on Westheimer. Girl, you need to get that shit straight.”
Her voice was loud and booming; the rest of the crew was torn between staring at Aaron and my mother, and trying to not steal peeks at me. I felt someone grab my elbow and I began walking backward. The vision of the two people in the world who had hurt me the most became smaller and smaller.
As loud as Regis was, I felt relieved that it appeared neither my mother nor Aaron saw us. They were standing at a register holding a white paper McDonald’s bag and looking like they were talking to the store manager. Justine ushered us together and waved at us girls to grab our food the best way we could, and we then ducked out of the restaurant. I looked at Justine and thanked her with my eyes. Eyes that were too shocked to produce moisture.
Lauren 30
“Take me to Aaron’s,” I ordered Justine, as soon as we drove about a mile away from the restaurant.
“Why you wanna go there, girl? He still back there with—”
“Will you just shut the hell up, Regis?”
“Excuse me!” she said, like she really didn’t care one way or the other, and increased the volume to the radio.
Zoe patted me on the thigh. I didn’t look at her. Looked out the window, into the blackness of the night. Knowing that something had to give.
WE PULLED UP IN FRONT OF AARON’S place.
“Thanks for the ride. I’m getting out here.”
Regis shot me a look. “I know you not going to see that scrub.”
“You have no idea what I’m going to do, so don’t even try it.”
I stepped away from the car and waved at the crew. Justine’s Buick crawled away; she kept looking at me with cautious eyes. One final look from Justy, and I found myself alone in the parking lot. I sighed and walked up to Aaron’s front door. Tapped lightly two times, then harder four times until my knock was answered.
“Oh, hey, how you doing?”
“Fine,” I mumbled.
He stared at me. My face and body felt the warmth of humiliation, like I’d just spilled a pitcher of grape juice on brand-new clothes.
“You all right, Lauren?”
“Yeah, I—I’m—no, I’m not all right. May I come in, please?”
Brad swung open the door and I slid past him into the living room. Set my purse on the couch and looked around. Sniffed the air. It smelled like nothing. Just like I felt.
“Whassup, Lauren? What’s going on?”
I opened my mouth, but it was like English was no longer my first or second language. I wished that he could read my mind, that he could say the words that were omitted from my mouth. Instead of reading my mind, he examined my empty hands, clasped one of them in his, and motioned at me to sit on the couch. I crossed my arms and began rocking back and forth like an eighty-year-old woman sitting on earth without a thing to do. He said nothing for the longest. But his silence didn’t make me feel bad at all. Felt like he understood. Or like he wanted to.
After a while he said softly, “You know, don’t you?”
I stopped rocking. “How could you tell?”
“Easy.”
“How?” I pleaded.
“Your face says it all, your body.”
“I just don’t under . . . I just don’t get it.”
He said nothing.
“Am I ugly?”
“Hell, nah, Lauren. Nothing ugly about you.”
“You’re just saying that.”
“No, nooo. Wouldn’t do that. You’re fine and you know it. Maybe your boy doesn’t know it.”
“Hmmm. My—my mom looks better than me, though, right?”
He shook his head. “Look, I don’t think it’s about how you look compared to your mother. Y’all two different women. Two different generations. No comparison.”
“But why didn’t he stick it out
with me, Brad? Did he . . . did he ever tell you?”
He shifted in his seat.
“Never mind,” I told him, and rocked even more vigorously.
“Nooo, Lauren. I don’t have anything to tell you as far as all that. All I know is, stuff happens. Aaron, well, maybe he just felt he had to move on, you know what I mean?”
“No, I don’t know. I feel it’s messed up to dump me because I’m trying to keep myself . . . and not because I wanted to, either, but just to please a woman who . . . I should’ve gone and done something anyway. Shouldn’t have listened to her. Hypocrite!” I yelled, releasing a lot of my pain.
The color in Brad’s face changed from brown to strawberry. His eyes grew as round as saucers. I wanted to laugh at his reaction, but I kept pulling my fingernails and twisting all my rings.
I thought about my mother. “I’m the one who tries to do the right thing, and I end up getting done wrong.”
Silence.
I jumped up and looked in the kitchen.
“Ugh, I could just—”
Brad leaped to his feet.
“You’re not going to start breaking things are you?”
“Ahh, ha-ha. That’s all you’re worried about, Brad?”
“No, that’s not all. Worried about you, too, Lauren.”
I looked at him. What he said sounded suspicious, but good. He walked to me and was so close I could detect the faint scent of his deodorant. He put his arms around me. Patted me on the back real soft-like. Barely felt it, but I knew his hands were on me. I stiffened at first. His hands on my body felt strange. Like they didn’t belong. But it was like his body couldn’t hear what my mind was saying. And he pulled me closer to him, against the warmth of his chest.
Comfort.
Acceptance.
“Am I ugly?”
“Nooo. Now stop asking me that before I lie and say yes.”
I smiled. Shoulders relaxed. My hands moved up his side, around his strong waist. Moved my head in closer to his shoulder.
Resting. Releasing. Feeling good. Feeling not so good. Wondering what I’d do if Aaron walked in. Wondering why I’d even care what he thought. Wondering what he and my mom were doing.
