Getting to the Good Part

by Lolita Files

  “Dandre, baby,” I whispered, reaching back for him with my hand. I still didn’t bother to lift up my head.

  “Don’t Dandre baby me, Reesy!!” he snapped, shaking my hand away. “Damn!! What do you think, that you can just play me like I’m some sort of knucklehead off the street?”

  I could hear him pacing around behind me.

  “And where the hell did all these flowers come from?” he asked in an annoyed tone.

  He was jealous. How cute.

  “I’on know,” I grunted. “Fans, I guess.”

  Someone knocked on the door.

  “Go away!!” he yelled.

  I finally looked up. That shit wasn’t cute anymore.

  “What do you think you’re doing?” I asked sharply, gazing at him through the reflection of the mirror. “This is my room. You don’t dictate who comes in and who doesn’t.”

  Dandre was standing there in a black jacket and a tight navy blue turtleneck that hugged the contours of his chest. He had on a pair of navy blue wool pants.

  He made a good bully. It was a total surprise. He’d never jumped bad with me before.

  “We were having a discussion,” he replied flatly, his face all balled up.

  “So that means you get the right to disrespect me in my space? I don’t think so!” I glared at him through the mirror.

  “Disrepect you?” he cried. “I’ve done nothing but do right by you! You’re the one disrespecting me!”

  “Nobody disrespected you,” I mumbled, grabbing a handful of cotton balls and the bottle of baby oil on my table.

  Dandre was now the one glaring.

  “If I had done what you did, you would have screamed bloody murder! The least you could have done is give me a call. It’s not like you didn’t check your messages.”

  I began stripping away my makeup.

  “How do you know I checked my messages?”

  Dandre was standing behind me again.

  “Because. You always check your messages. Why should today be any different?”

  “Well, I didn’t check my messages today.”

  He sighed loudly and sat down in a chair just behind me. I could still see his face quite clearly in the mirror.

  “Don’t lie to me, Reesy,” he said in an even voice. “I haven’t given you cause to, so don’t lie just to be lying.”

  My hand froze in place, still gripping the cotton ball. I looked at his reflection.

  “So now you’re calling me a liar?”

  He stared back.

  “I’m not calling you anything. I’m just asking that you don’t try to play me. I think you’re confusing the fact that I’m openly expressive to you with weak behavior. I’m far from weak, baby. A long fucking ways away.”

  “Nobody called you weak.”

  “Well, I’m just setting the record straight,” he replied. “If you’re not gonna respect me enough to give me a courtesy call for damn near twenty-four hours, then don’t bother to call me at all!”

  Dandre got up and walked toward the door. When he got to it, he didn’t even look back. He just pulled it open.

  Damn. He was going to leave. Just like that. He wasn’t playing around at all.

  This was a surprise. I figured he’d indulge me. At least a little bit.

  “Hey!!” I called out.

  “What,” he answered flatly, not even turning around.

  I sat there a moment, thinking. I chewed my bottom lip.

  He began to pull the door closed.

  “I’m sorry!!”

  The door opened back.

  “What was that?”

  Dandre still had his back to me.

  “I said I flicked up.”

  Dandre walked back into the room, leaving the door open. He came back over to the chair and sat down again.

  “You happy?” I smirked, this time looking into his actual face.

  His expression was still the same. He shook his head.

  “It’s not about getting you to say you’re sorry, Reesy. It’s about showing each other respect.”

  “So I slipped. It’s not like it happens all the time. You don’t have to turn it into a federal crime. Jeez.”

  “You slipped for twenty-four hours.”

  “So I’m sorry. Damn. Let it go.”

  I got up from my chair and went over to his lap. I stared into those deep brown eyes of his.

  I kissed him gently, lingering against his lips.

  “Kisses can’t fix everything,” he muttered.

  “Depends on where you get ’em,” I replied with a grin.

  I picked up his arms and put them around me. He half-held me at first, then his embrace grew tighter.

  “Don’t do that to me again,” he chided in a soft voice. “You had me worried for hours.”

  “Sorry, baby,” I whispered, relieved to have gotten myself out of a potential mess.

  As we sat there like that, someone passed slowly by the door, trying to look in.

  I was nervous, hoping desperately that it wasn’t who I expected.

  It was Tamara.

  She saw us embracing. She saw me see her. Dandre, noticing a diversion in my attention, looked over at her, too.

  Tamara rushed away.

  “Hey!!” Dandre called out.

  “What’s up with you?” I asked in surprise.

  He patted me on the booty, trying to get me to move.

  “Hold up for a minute,” he insisted.

  I did, and he dashed out of the room, running after her.

  Well I’ll be damned, I thought. Ain’t this some shit?! Right in front of my damn face!

  I stood there like that, fuming for a moment, at a loss for what to do.

  It didn’t take me long to react.

  I stormed out of the dressing room, in search of him. He and Tamara were standing in the hallway, talking. He had his arm around her. Both of them were grinning.

  I walked up to the two of them, my face riddled with anger.

  “What’s going on here?” I demanded.

  “Reesy, you didn’t tell me Tamara was in the show!” Dandre exclaimed.

  “I didn’t know I needed to make an announcement,” I answered sharply. “Besides, you come here damn near every night. You’ve seen her before!”

  “Baby,” he grinned, “you know I can’t see past you. You get all my attention.”

  Tamara clucked her tongue.

  I glared at her, daring her to do it again.

  “Do you know her?” I asked.

  “Hell yeah, I know Tamara! I’ve known her since she was crawling around in dirty draws!”

  Tamara cheesed at him all cute and friendly.

  “Then that would be last week,” I replied.

  “Damn, baby!!” Dandre laughed, unaware my animosity. “That’s fucked up!!”

  Tamara ignored me.

  “I was bigger than that when we first met,” she declared.

  “Girl, you weighed a pound wet when I first saw you! What were you, about eight? Remember? It was at that family reunion?”

  “Oh yeah!” she said, laughing. “I forgot that’s when I first met you. It’s been so long.”

  I was beginning to feel like an outsider, and I wasn’t having it.

  “What family reunion?”

  Dandre turned to me.

  “Rick’s,” he replied, as though I should know this already. “Tamara is Rick’s first cousin.”

  Whoooooooaaaaa.

  I thought about it. Tamara H. Rick Hodges.

  Oh snap!!

  I’d never even made the connection. Hell, why would I?

  An assortment of thoughts started rushing through my head. My words to Misty during our lunch at Dolce were the first to come to mind.

  Good Lord. How was I going to tell her I was wrong?

  “I’ll be in my dressing room,” I announced, turning away.

  “Hold up, baby,” Dandre said, grabbing my hand. “I’ll walk back with you.”

  He turned
back to Tamara.

  “Does Rick know you’re in the show?”

  She nodded.

  “Yeah,” she said. “I talked to him a couple weeks ago when he was here. I hadn’t seen him in a while, but since then I’ve called him at the office a few times.”

  “I wonder why he didn’t tell me that he saw you,” Dandre mused.

  I watched Tamara now with a whole new fascination. I could actually even see some resemblance between her and Misty’s man.

  “I told him not to tell anybody,” she remarked. “You know my folks. They’ll be calling me asking for money if they find out I got a part in a show. It ain’t like I’m making a whole lot. I ain’t got none to spare.”

  I cleared my throat. Dandre caught the hint.

  “I’ll check you later, Tamara. It’s really good seeing you, girl!”

  “Yeah, I’ll see ya around,” she replied, scouring his body with her eyes. “Wit’ yo’ fine self.”

  That last part was uttered under her breath. It was meant for only him and her.

  Dandre knew I caught it.

  “I appreciate the compliment,” he said, putting his arm around me. “A brother’s just tryna stay in shape for his lady.”

  I couldn’t resist a smile.

  We turned and walked away, leaving Tamara standing there with her tongue practically hanging out.

  When we got back inside my dressing room, I shut the door.

  Dandre wrapped me up in a hug. I hugged him back, choosing my words carefully.

  “Baby?” I cooed.

  “Yeah, sweetie?”

  “Does Misty know that Tamara is Rick’s cousin?”

  He squeezed me tightly, kissing my cheek.

  “Don’t know the answer to that one, baby.”

  “Hmmph,” I muttered absently.

  Dandre led me over to the chair he had been sitting in before. He sat down in it first, and then pulled me down onto his lap, facing him.

  He wrapped my arms around his waist and held me close.

  “I don’t think she knows,” I mumbled, looking past his shoulder at the wall.

  “Who, baby?” he asked, obviously not listening.

  “Misty,” I replied with annoyance. “She’s never mentioned knowing anything about Tamara before, other than what I’ve told her. I don’t think she knows.”

  “Then tell her,” he insisted. “Introduce her to the girl.”

  Not hardly, I thought.

  I sighed heavily.

  I had to do something. For once, I had really put my foot in it. I had gone off on ol’ Rick without due cause.

  As Dandre rubbed my back and played with my braids, I tried to figure out just how I would tell her. I had to find a way to make amends.

  I was wrong, and the least I could do was own up to it.

  I didn’t go home with Dandre. I was too tired to hang, and I didn’t want to even put myself in the position to try.

  After a good deal of explaining and reassurance, I begged off and took my butt home.

  I just wanted to go to bed. I was whooped from that morning, which I was still not emotionally prepared to deal with, and my blood felt quite toxic from all the drinking the night before.

  I took a long hot shower, called Dandre up and told him good night, crawled under the sheets, pulled the covers over my head, and fell out.

  I was awakened a few hours later by a frantic knocking at my door.

  I glanced over at the clock. It was 3:52 A.M.

  Who the hell could it be at this hour? How’d they get in the building?

  I dragged myself up from my warm, cozy bed, grabbed my thick pink chenille robe from the floor, and trudged into the living room.

  “Who is it?” I mumbled, peering through the peephole. I never opened my door for people I didn’t buzz in after they rang me first from downstairs.

  “Me,” I heard a muffled voice cry.

  “Me, who? Stand back so I can see you!”

  “Open the door, Reesy!!” the voice cried again. “It’s me!! Let me in!!”

  I unbolted the top lock, clicked off the bottom one, and opened the door.

  She was standing there, looking like a wreck. Her face was tear-streaked and her hair was a mess of tangled curls.

  “Girl, come in!!” I exclaimed, snatching her by the arm. “What the hell happened?!”

  Once Misty stepped inside my apartment and I shut the door, she burst into hysterical tears.

  “Oh, honey!” I whispered, pulling her close to me in a hug. “What’s the matter?!”

  She just stayed there, limp in my arms, her body wracked with uncontrollable sobs.

  “Misty!!” I demanded. “Tell me what’s wrong! Did Rick hit you?!”

  “Noooooooo!!!” she whimpered.

  I held her at arm’s length.

  “Then tell me what happened,” I said softly. “What’s wrong?”

  Misty wiped her streaked face with both hands and wandered away from me, over to the couch.

  I followed her, sitting across from her in a chair. I waited for her to speak.

  It took her a few minutes. She sniffled erratically, catching her breath in gasps, like a little kid.

  “We h-h-had… ,” she sniffled and gasped, “… a… big… fight.”

  I sat back in my chair.

  “What about?” I asked.

  “Things… have… been…” She gasped and sniffled again, unable to get her words out all the way.

  I got up and got her a glass of water from the kitchen. I handed it to her and sat back down.

  Misty took a sip, still trying to catch her breath.

  “Take your time,” I said comfortingly.

  She nodded and took another sip.

  “Things have been… strained… ever since that day I talked to you.”

  “Um-hmmm,” I mumbled, feeling a bit unnerved.

  “I started accusing him of, of stuff every time he was 1–1-late, or had to make a private phone call.”

  I kept listening. I didn’t say anything.

  “I stopped having sex with him.”

  Uh-oh. I knew that heralded problems. Misty, like me, was definitely one to get her sex on, especially if she had a constant man nearby.

  “How was he dealing with that?” I asked, my voice as understated as I could make it.

  “He… he… he… ,” she sobbed gasping.

  She took another drink of water.

  “H-h-he was very upset. He kept saying that he wasn’t doing anything wrong.”

  “Did you believe him?”

  “I didn’t know wh-what to believe!” Misty cried.

  I rubbed my chin, a ton of guilt sitting on my shoulders.

  “So what happened tonight?”

  Misty’s eyes filled anew with tears.

  “I told him I knew all about T-T-Tamara and what happened that night!”

  Oh Lord.

  “And he stood right there and told me a blatant lie!”

  “What’d he say?” I whispered, almost afraid to hear the answer.

  Misty was angry now.

  “He said she was his cousin!!!” she hissed. “Like that’s not the oldest lie in the freaking book!!”

  “Did you tell him I told you?” I had the nerve to ask, trying to make sure I’d been kept out of the mix.

  “No!!” she cried. “He was too busy denying it for me to get a word in at all! That’s when I left!”

  Although I didn’t deserve it, inside, I heaved a sigh of relief.

  My phone started ringing.

  “Don’t answer it!!” Misty shrieked hysterically. “It’s him!! He probably knows I came here!!”

  “Of course he knows you came here,” I replied. “Where else would you go?”

  The phone continued to ring. It was like a death knell.

  She sat there on the couch, her hands shaking out of control.

  It was confession time. I was scared. This bomb of a doozy would probably tear us up for real.

  I let
out a deep breath.

  “Misty, I think that we should answer the phone.”

  She shook her head violently.

  “Nooo!! I don’t wanna talk to him!”

  “But you owe him that much,” I implored. “He’s your fiance, after all.”

  Misty’s face was twisted with confusion.

  “I don’t get it! You’re the one that told me he was a dog! Now you want me to talk to him?!”

  I sat there, staring at the floor.

  The phone was still ringing.

  “I’m not answering it,” she declared. “I don’t care what you say.”

  I had to say something. I couldn’t just keep it to myself.

  “Misty,” I began, looking up at her, “you need to pick up the phone.” I hesitated, then, just let it out. “Tamara is Rick’s cousin.”

  She stared at me, her mouth growing very small.

  “But you told me you heard him—”

  “I did hear him,” I said, cutting her off. “It sounded like he was trying to pick her up. But I didn’t know she was his cousin. Now that I know, their conversation makes sense.”

  Ring, ring, ring went the telephone.

  I kept my eyes fixed on hers, ready to take my lumps. Her expression was a mixture of betrayal and relief.

  “How do you know she’s his cousin?” Misty whined. “Why didn’t you call me up and tell me?”

  I exhaled deeply.

  “I just found out tonight. I was going to tell you. Dandre was talking to her outside my dressing room.”

  I saw a dark look flit across her face.

  “In front of me,” I stated. “He’s known her since she was little. She’s Rick’s first cousin.”

  “How do you know Dandre’s not just covering for Rick?” she asked, now suspicious beyond the call of duty.

  “He didn’t know there was anything to be covering up,” I protested. “I never told him about what I heard. I only told you.”

  The phone hollered.

  Misty still seemed in doubt.

  “Think about it,” I explained, “Tamara’s name is listed in the playbill as Tamara H. Nobody knew what the H stood for, but now it makes sense.”

  The phone was raising holy hell.

  “So you were wrong?” she asked at last.

  “Yes, Misty,” I replied, not trying to dress it up. “I was absolutely, one hundred percent wrong about your man.”

  Her glistening eyes narrowed at me.

  “You admit this freely?”

  I nodded.