admit it, she had a favorite and that was Jamal. They talked
over the phone or on the Internet at least four or five times a
week. She adored Jasmine; however Jasmine was a lot like her mother, and seeing how she didn’t much care for Olivia, it wasn’t uncommon for Jasmine and her grandmother to bump heads. Still, the idea of those two not coming to Atlanta this
year was going to break her heart.
“They won’t be able to make it this year.”
“And why is that?”
“Olivia is taking them to Greece this summer.” “What the hell is in Greece that they can’t come and
see their grandmother?”
“The Olympics.”
“Did you say the Olympics?”
“Yes ma’am.”
“See, I told you not to marry that skinny thing.” “Olivia was never skinny, nor is she a thing okay.” “How you can continue defending that woman after
what she did to you is beyond me.”
“Can we not go there.”
“Whatever, I swear she’s going to have my
grandchildren talking acting like Tiger Woods before it’s all
done and said for.”
I laughed at that openly before I said, “Look mom, if
they are half as successful as Tiger, they can talk or act any way
they want as far as I’m concern. So let’s not…”
“I swear to God if your father was alive, he’d…” “Do we really hafta go down that road again mom?” “No we don’t.”
“Thank you.”
“Don’t thank me, thank that selfish ex wife of yours.
Anyway, have you found yourself another woman Pumpkin?” “I’m working on it, mom. So I guess I’ll see you on
Saturday,” I said before I quickly switched over to Nique. “Are you still there Nique?”
“For you my love, I will wait forever.”
“Smoking crack are we?”
“No silly, I’ve been watching one of those corny black
and white movies that you seem to love.”
“For the record, it’s the writing I like.”
“I guess, so when did you get in?”
“About five hours ago, why, what’s up?”
“I just thought I give you a call to see if you wanted to
see me as badly as I wanted to see you.”
Things between Nique and I had changed seeing how we agreed not to rush into anything because she was a recovering alcoholic, and I was an alcoholic in the making. As soon as that agreement was set in stone, we somehow found ourselves back in bed trying our best to make babies. After that rather violent but pleasurable affair came to a slow but deliberate end, we decided to face reality by agreeing to attempt something that I had never done with a woman before. Of course I saw a lot other people doing the open relationship thing here in Atlanta, but I never once pictured myself involved in such a pointless endeavor. However there was something special about Nique that I had to have at this point in my life. Exactly what that was, I hadn’t the slightest clue. What made the whole affair even more interesting; there was something important about me that Nique had to have also.
Even though I agreed to participate in this shaky affair, I still gave it a great deal of thought while I was away. But after hearing Nique’s sexy but comforting voice while I was abroad, sort of sealed the deal for me. Having her wet love whenever I wanted it, and without any strings attached made it even easier to accept. A man I am, and man I’ll always be.
“I missed you too Nique,” I said before I stretched out on my floor.
“Didn’t say that now did I? But yes, I missed you too Omari.”
“Okay, so, have you seen this movie named, The Defiant Ones?”
“Lemme see, two escaped convicts chained together, one white the other black, and they must learn to get along in order elude capture. No, can’t say that I have.”
“Good, so how do you feel about sharing a movie and a rather large chicken fried salad?”
“I’m checking my Blackberry now. Well I’ll be damned. I think we can do this.”
“See you around eight.”
“Eight it is, by the way Baby, I really, really need to share something with you when I get there.”
“Are we talking you in a tee shirt and some sexy panties type sharing?”
“You’re so silly.”
“You bring that out of me. Is this serious or what?”
“We’ll talk when I get there.”
“Okay, but promise me you’ll do that thing with your…”
Nique cut that request short with a response that only I could appreciate before she hung up. ‘Man, I’m going to make this one special,’ I thought to myself before I allowed my body to return back to the floor. A few minutes passed, and I was still staring up at my Casablanca styled ceiling fan pondering a few things that would make Nique’s visit a memorable one. A few more minutes passed before I was up and about rearranging my home theater room so that it would represent a small piece of one of my favorite places in Atlanta.
It took a little digging in my closets and some major plant relocating from my outside garden in the beginning, but in the end my home theater room was transformed into a small picnic area like the ones at the Jimmy Carter Center. I even had Boney play some city park sounding background noise so to complete the picture. Other than that, all I needed was the food, a picnic basket, and a clean picnic blanket and it was on.
An hour and half later, I had everything ready to go and was about to jump into the shower when Boney chimed in and told me that my daughter was on the phone. Instead of feeing happy to hear from her, I Instantly felt this huge surge of guilt, so much so I thought about not talking to her. However I knew exactly why the other half of my heart was calling, so I took a chill pill and took the call.
“Hey Baby Doll,” I said before I downed a whole glass of Hennessey.
“Hello, Dad’da, it’s me Jasmine.”
“I know who this is, so what’s going on with you?”
“Crazy stuff,” she replied, sounding a year older than she was.
“Did you get all of your allowance, or did Olivia short you again?”
“Probably, but that’s not why I’m calling Dad’da.”
My head dropped, and my heart started to liquefy prior to me taking my medicine.
“I know I haven’t called you in awhile Jasmine, but Daddy has been real busy these days.”
“Mommy said the same thing, but I just wanted to talk to you. Is that okay?”
“Of course it’s okay. What’s on your mind?”
“Promise me you won’t get mad.”
“I promise.”
“Well, I was wondering why you and Mommy never ever kissed or hug in front of strange people? My new dad, well he’s always kissing and hugging Mommy…no matter where we are. Why does he do that Dad’da? Honestly, it makes me sick, am I wrong for feeling that way?”
I bit down on my lower lip and quickly retrieved that bottle of Hennessey. I poured myself another drink while I racked my brain for a mature but neutral answer. Nothing unbiased came to mind, so I tried telling a few jokes all in attempt to give me a little time to think about how I would respond to Jasmines request. Two, three, or maybe four straight shots later, I had a good answer for my beloved daughter. Lame as it may have been, it got her off of the phone right before Nique arrived.
Divorce isn’t for the faint of heart, I thought to myself before I buzzed Nique up. And as life would have it, Nique appeared happy and full of life when I greeted her with a half a bottle of Hennessey in my hand.
“What’s going on Omari?” she asked with disappointment encased deep inside her eyes. “Are you trying to be funny, because if you are, that some real foul shit!”
Half drunk, and completely dumbfounded, I thought about making a break for it. A single well-timed leap from my roof top garden would end everything. I gave that suicidal thought some s
erious thought before the idea of the pain I would feel from free falling from a six-story building started to set in.
“It’s not like that at all,” I said before my head found my chest.
“Your little girl called, didn’t she?” Nique asked without hesitation.
“How’d you know?”
“Believe it or not, I’m somebody’s little girl too. So I’ve seen that look on your face way too many times Lover. The question is, are you going to keep it real with me, or are you going to be half a man with this?”
Jasmine’s curiosity had me feeling less than half a man at that moment, and huge part of me wanted to deal with the pain by burning down a blunt, and slamming down a few drinks until the pain subsided. However, my life and the things that incorporated my life had changed. Decided to take one more gulp of the Hennessey for luck.
“My little girl misses me Nique. And um, you know what, there isn’t shit I can do about it. There it is. No, that isn’t true. Truth of the matter is, I’ve been avoiding her and my son because I’ve never got over their mother.”
Silence filled the room like water filling an empty goblet, leaving me to wonder if I should have continued drinking.
“Lemme guess, you gave her all kinds of childish ass promises didn’t you?”
“She asked me this incredible hard question that I really couldn’t answer right. I mean, what in the fuck was I supposed to do? What was I suppose to say?”
“I’m sure you said the right thing Omari.”
“Maybe, but you know what, I never planned on not being with my children, and you can’t… ”
“Things change Omari.”
I turned up that bottle Hennessey as if the answer to all my problems could be found there. And when I discovered that there wasn’t a solution to be found, my anger and frustration took over.
“When we were in New Orleans, I told your ass that this wasn’t a good idea, didn’t I? I mean, I like being with you and everything, but this is how I deal with this part of my life.”
“That’s a sorry ass excuse, and you know it.”
“Maybe, but this is how I deal with the pain. The guilt.”
Nique turned up her lip in anger and said, “I guess I was wrong about you, because you’re not that delightfully silly man that I’ve come to adore. Instead, you’re a guilt ridden jerk that hides behind a bottle of crazy,” Nique snapped before she made her exit.
I don’t know what hit the floor first, the bottle of Hennessey, or me. All the same, there I was laying face first on the floor facing all of my demons. And before the first tear left the wells of my eyes, Nique surprised me by being there to capture it.
“Friends. We are friends first, right, Omari?”
As the tears continued to fall from my eyes, I nodded my head yes as she embraced all that I was. A few moments later, after all of the tears had fallen, and the guilt had subsided, Nique and I were a perfect human sphere. Delicately holding each other as if we were holding a fragile but determined to live premature baby. Truth be told, Nique may have been the alcoholic who needed to be nurtured, but in the end, I was the person who needed all of the damn nurturing.
Morning, with all of its promises and things anew, came to me as a dream that I could speak to. Of course we talked a little, and even argued until I found my way to a bright new day. Nique, on the other hand was still wrapped tightly inside the warm hold of my bed, and appeared fearless as she burned the chains of yesterday away.
“Sleep all you want Baby,” I said before I prepared her breakfast. After making breakfast, I went for my usual early morning run. Two and half miles later, I was in the shower when Nique poked her zombie like face inside the steam-filled shower.
“Do you always get up that early?”
“I try to.”
“Do you do that running thing every morning?” “I try to.”
“You’re crazy,” she said before she returned back to
bed. After my shower was complete, I got dressed and called my daughter back. My ex wife’s phone ranged three or four times before she finally picked up
“Hey, it’s me.” “I figured it would be, but do you have any idea what time it is here?”
“Late, real late, just do me a favor okay, and tell Jasmine that…tell her that I said, it’s okay to be loved out in the open. Tell her that, I’ve been thinking about not being by myself anymore. Tell her, I’ve also been doing a lot of thinking about being on television.” I said before I told Boney to disconnect the line.
The other side of good-bye
Nique and I spent the rest of that week together until she had to fly off to Los Angles to close a record deal with a new talent that she had recently discovered. Our short time together was so refreshing, and stimulating that I didn’t want her to go. Saying good-bye to the people that I truly cared for, even if it was for a short time wasn’t something that I was good at. I tended to become emotional and down right childish in the end. I once asked my mother why I was like that, her explanation made perfectly good sense.
My father, God bless his heart, was the very first person that I ever said goodbye too, and seeing how he never made it back home was supposed to have scared me. This may have been true; nevertheless I generally avoided the whole affair by not participating. Instead, I usually said my good byes over the phone. I even tried to do it over the Internet once. Unfortunately, my mother rarely ever reads her email, so I made her shit list that year.
After Nique made her way west, I returned back to work and everything else that came along with running your own business. Outside of that pending investigation by the District Attorneys office, life was good for me until Saturday afternoon came around. Catering the City’s Annual Man of the Year after-party was a pretty big deal for any catering company. Still, I wasn’t enthused with the idea of letting somebody else take the job. I decided I would attend so that I could observe Antonio and his people from afar. As usual, Antonio and his nervous demeanor was going to accuse me of micromanaging from the shadows, but I didn’t care because it was my company’s reputation that would bear the brunt of an unsatisfied customer.
Dressed in a pair of Nautica blue jeans, a black turtleneck and a black leather jacket, I arrived at the recreation center on my motorcycle about an hour after the party started. I was aware that I looked out of place amongst the hundred or so tuxedoes and swanky dresses that occupied the recreational center. But this was work so I didn’t mind all of the occasional stare or the aggressive security that kept following me as I moved about. Right before one of the hired guns decided to stop me, September came out of nowhere and hushed them away. The hired guns couldn’t have known the place was named after me, so I didn’t hold it against them as a gorgeous looking September turned her attention my way.
“All you need is a cigarette Omari, and this bad boy image of yours would be complete.”
I’m not sure what left me more breathless, September’s beauty, or the way she filled the air that surrounded me. Whichever of those two it was, it didn’t matter because I decided to enjoy what I could regardless if I was being rude or not. Beauty, be it natural or man-made, was designed to be admired and sought after.
“My, my, my, would you look at you,” I said after I ducked inside a small shadow.
“Be careful old boy, there’s a raging bull under all this feministic illustration.”
“That went way over my head September.”
“As it was meant to.”
“Cute, so how have you been?”
“I am healthy, and I am happy, what about you?”
“I’m tired, stressed, and worried.”
September peered into my eyes for a moment before she came back with, “What you think about, you bring about Omari.”
“Excuse me.”
“Nothing, anyway, I must admit your people did a wonderful job with the place. The attention to detail, the splendid food, and the open smokers’ bar in the back was a really nice touch. So, this is how the ric
h and famous live?”
“No, this is how they like to be treated September, and nobody does it better than me I guess. I hate to be short, but I was looking for the man in charge, have you seen him?” I asked her as I caught a glimpse of a hippy, well-dressed diva that just happened to be my mother. From afar, she was truly in her environment, and playing her part as she celebrated with the rich and the not so famous.
“A short, Cuban looking guy?”
“That’s him.”
“The last time I saw him, he was in my office trying to reach you.”
“I wonder why. Anyway, if you ask me, you’re the toast of the party September. Just don’t tell Greg I said so.”
“Why not?”
“He may never talk to me after he hears that.” I said before I made my way to her office.
I was halfway to the office when Michael surprised me by waving at me from across the room. I thought about pretending as if I hadn’t seen him, but that was sort of hard to do seeing how he was wearing a mustard colored tuxedo. Only Michael could pull something like this off, and that’s exactly what he was doing. I respectfully waved back as I made my way to his table.
“Good afternoon everyone, hope you’re enjoying yourselves.” I said to the guests that were sitting with him.
“Everyone, meet public enemy number one,” Michael chuckled before he stood up and gave me firm handshake.
“And who do I have the honor of meeting this afternoon?” I asked him after I spotted an attractive female photographer heading my way.
From afar, her solid body, and pretty face suggested that she might have been living in her early thirties, however as she came closer there was something about her that told me that she was much older. I would have given her face a little more attention if she hadn’t suddenly spun around, kneeled and took a picture of somebody more important than myself. Before she had a chance to find another target, I took an afforded glance of her exposed pink panties before I gave Michael my full attention.
“This is going to make your day Omari.”
“I’m afraid somebody already beat you to that one,” I said with a scandalous smile.
Michael looked over where I was looking and said, “Everything’s fair game in your world I see. In any case, sitting right here is the lovely Twila Brunson, who just happens to be my editor-in-chief down at the paper. Luis Cunningham here is the editor in chief of sports, and Donna Mason is like me, she just a regular old beat reporter.”
The Other Side of My Kitchen Page 12
