Over the Hedge: Part 2- The Finale (Lucky in Love)

by Minerva Vesta

  Flashbacks of our argument came to me, and I decided to give him one more day of being in his feelings before I said something. I wasn’t going to let Sean’s attitude about our difference in opinion ruin my day.

  CHAPTER 16

  SEAN

  “Yo, what’s good man?” Ian asked as he answered the phone.

  I heard the crashing waves echoing over the line. He was most likely sitting out on the beach, something he did every night around this time of year. This call was for me, but I could tell it was for him too. Losing your family at such a young age was a tough pill to swallow. Ian, the ever-present voice of reason in our group, had taken the loss in stride. But times like this we would always notice the change in him and tried our best to keep his spirits high.

  “I’m good. Who else is on?” I asked.

  “Me and Brent,” Jackson answered. “He put the phone down for a second.”

  This was a common occurrence for us. Getting on a conference call, or a ‘bro powwow’, as we liked to call it, was something we did almost weekly. It started back in high school one summer before we all got cell phones and before there was a thing called group text messages.

  Ian had gone overseas to spend the summer with his uncle in Norway. Brent was off on some European vacation that rich people talk about taking every year. Jackson was away at space camp with NASA. I was at home working my first job as a teen camp counselor at the science center. It was our first time since becoming friends that we couldn’t hang out for an extended period. So, to keep in touch, we got on the phone almost nightly to talk about what was going on in our lives.

  And now, even as adults, the tradition was still alive and kicking. Sometimes we had Jamal on the line too, when he wasn’t in town. He whined a lot about us keeping him as a side-chick in terms of our friendship. I don’t agree with that sentiment. We were all close. I was just closer with Ian, Jackson, and Brent. Jamal was my bonus friend.

  “I’m back. What did I miss?” Brent asked with a huff.

  “Nothing,” Jackson answered. “So, what’s good with everyone? I can’t stay on the line too long. Sarah isn’t feeling too good. The baby’s messing with her…got her dealing with some nausea. Not to mention, she’s got this nipple peeling situation going on.”

  “Yuck. Jeez, man why the fuck would you tell us about that? I don’t want to hear the details of your wife’s gross, pregnancy symptoms,” Brent hollered, sounding like a pubescent boy.

  “Ah come on. Pregnancy is a beautiful thing,” Ian countered.

  Out of the group he was the most family oriented. Maybe it was because he grew up in the foster care system or his profession as a psychologist. When one of us wanted to get sappy, he was the friend we called on.

  “Man, what the fuck is going on with you three?” Brent questioned, voice laced with irritation. “Jackson’s married with a kid on the way. Sean’s been having empty nest syndrome or some shit. And now, Ian’s touting, ‘the beauty of pregnancy’. When did my three friends become so baby crazy?”

  “Chill out man.” Ian laughed. “No one is baby crazy except Jackson. Empty nest syndrome is for older adults whose children leave home for college or just move out.”

  “Trust me…shit ain’t all it’s cracked up to be,” Jackson grumbled. “What’s going on with you guys? My life is pretty much the same day in and day out. Please tell me something exciting. I gotta live vicariously through y’all.”

  The line was quiet for a few minutes. Until Ian spoke up. “Got a second interview with the agency next week. First one was interesting.”

  We all snickered.

  “Meaning there’s a woman involved,” Brent said knowingly.

  “Actually, yes and no.” Ian’s voice was low as he spoke. Letting me know there was more to the story than just being about another woman.

  “I ran into that same girl, again. The one from the grocery store—same one who came into the ER that one time.”

  “Really?” I inquired. I remembered him talking about this woman a few times before. Something about her getting attacked and brought into the hospital where he’d done his internship in the psychiatry department, but that was years ago.

  “How did that go?” Jackson asked.

  “She looked at me like she knew me but didn’t say anything. We were standing in the lobby with a bunch of people; so, I didn’t really get a chance to introduce myself. I might get another shot at seeing her though. I think she’s applying for a position there. When I was coming off the elevator, I heard the receptionist say something about her, ‘final interview’. If the executive team brings me on as a consultant, then who knows what might` happen.”

  I could hear the optimism in his voice. The guy was too curious over a woman he’d only spoken a handful of words to. I wasn’t one to talk. I knew how he felt. It didn’t take long for me to get enamored by my lady. Hell, I could remember a few short months ago just the scent Lashawnda left lingering in the elevator had me transfixed for days.

  “That’s great and all, but not good enough,” Jackson replied sardonically. “Next update better top that.”

  “How about a threesome with a world-renowned tennis player and her sister?” Brent boasted.

  “I need details before I can say, ‘yes’.” Jackson laughed, sounding like a little kid about to hear the biggest secret of his life.

  “Ran into Natalya Gorlovka last week at one of those dinner parties my mother is always throwing. We started talking; one thing led to another, and we ended up back at her place. I didn’t know she had an older sister—never heard about her in the media.”

  “Please tell me they look like twins,” Jackson cut in.

  “They look like twins in the face,” Brent said. Jackson’s follow-up exclamation made me shake my head. “But complete opposites physically. Natalya is all sleek and muscular. Her sister is curvy with an ass I would never imagine on a Russian woman.”

  Jackson whistled. “Bro…the best of both worlds.”

  “Best Friday night I’ve had in a month.” Brent conceded.

  “I need details,” Jackson asked.

  I shook my head. “No one wants details. We’re all grown men. We know what threesomes are like.”

  “Not all of us.” Jackson’s voice rose an octave.

  “Well too fucking bad. I’m not gonna sit here and listen to another one of Brent’s sexcapade stories. If you wanted to have your own wild time, sleeping with tons of women, then you should have made that decision instead of choosing to settle down in your early twenties,” I barked.

  “Why the hell not?” Jackson bellowed. “What the fuck is your problem? Let me guess, menstrual cramps? You’ve been pissy all night.”

  “Come on, isn’t it obvious?” Ian answered. “He’s having trouble with Lashawnda.”

  “No way. How did you fuck that up so fast?” Brent asked.

  “First of all, I never admitted there was any trouble in our relationship. Second, why are you assuming it was me that fucked things up?” I said, trying to defend myself.

  “Because you’re the guy, Sean. Lashawnda is damn near perfect,” Jackson answered.

  “I cosign that,” Ian replied. “That woman could never be the source of any problems in your relationship.”

  I ran a frustrated hand down my face. Even among the men that knew me best, I wasn’t getting any breaks. “Look, I didn’t fuck it up, and I’m not saying she did either.”

  “But you’re saying y’all are having problems?” Ian said, asking for clarity.

  Resigning myself to just admit shit wasn’t perfect, I let out a heavy sigh. “Yeah, we’re going through something right now. I’m not sure if it’s her or me that’s the issue. I feel like I’m in the right, but I’m sure she feels the same way too.”

  “You’re beating around the bush. Let it out,” Ian interrupted me.

  “I want us to move in together. She doesn’t want to move in with me. I tried to understand the why, but she said she’s just not ready.
What really pisses me off is her promising that we’d talk about it when we reached the six-month mark in our relationship. Now that we’re here it’s like she’s brushing me off with another excuse,” I explained.

  The phone was quiet. Not a single background noise could be heard between the three other lines. I took that as a sign they thought I was wrong—this was all my fault. All I wanted was for my woman and me to live together, officially. What could be wrong with that? Women have cursed me out in the past for avoiding commitment at all cost. Yet, here I was getting called out for trying to commit too completely? As a man, I felt like I could do no right.

  “Okay, one of y’all say something please,” I pleaded, irritation rising by the second.

  Ian was the first to speak. “Hear me out before you jump down my throat. But, why not just enjoy your relationship as is? What’s the point of moving in together, when you guys practically live together now?”

  “Because this is what I want!”

  “Yeah, and fuck what Lashawnda wants right?” he replied sardonically.

  “Man…” I started. Was I the only one who saw a problem with that way of thinking? Of course, it wasn’t fuck Lashawnda’s feelings and what she was thinking.

  “I get it,” Brent chimed in. Of all the guys, I thought he would be the last one to agree with me. “You’re addicted to the pussy, and you want to keep it on lock.”

  I threw one hand up in frustration while gripping the phone with the other. “Bro, this is not about sex.”

  “Then, I don’t know what to tell you. Jackson, you’re married. Care to enlighten us on relationship crazy talk?” Brent asked.

  “I know how you are feeling, Sean. It’s not about sex or keeping things stagnant. I remember getting a lot of shit from you guys, and everyone around me, when Sarah and I got married. But, when you find the woman you know you’re supposed to spend the rest of your life with, there’s no point in staying stagnant. You want to build, create, and flourish with her.”

  “Exactly,” I added, finally feeling I wasn’t alone.

  “They don’t get it yet,” Jackson explained with light laughter. “But the moment they find that woman that’s meant for them, they’ll be singing a different tune. Don’t stress about it; I’m sure Lashawnda will come around.”

  Unfortunately, things carried over to the next day and the day after that, until it turned into an entire week of us being mad at each other. At one point the discussion got so heated between the two of us, she said, “if I didn’t want to be with her anymore, it was my choice’. It was during this time I realized how much Lashawnda hated confrontation and arguing.

  Yes, we could have healthy discussions on just about anything, but as soon as it turned into an argument, Lashawnda would clam up and didn’t want to speak anymore. It was a trait I realized I didn’t like about her. Giving me the cold shoulder was the worst possible thing she could do during an argument.

  I wasn’t sure how to handle the situation. I honestly didn’t know why Lashawnda wanted to get another place. The townhouse was perfect for us. We spent more time there than we did at her place. I knew she was pissed because I didn’t agree with her, but instead of working it out she had pulled a disappearing act on me. Now, I was lying in bed frustrated and not sure how or who to go to for advice. Picking up my phone, I called the one person that could help me out of this mess.

  “Boy, I better not be getting any bad news with you calling me so late at night.”

  “Sorry, Mama,” I answered remorsefully.

  “Everything all right? You’re not in jail, are you?”

  “No…nothing like that.” I scrubbed a hand down my face trying to find the right way to start this conversation. Apparently, my hesitation was enough for my mother to realize things were bad.

  “Oh, Sean what have you gotten yourself into?” I could hear shuffling in the background. Guilt started to set in for waking her up at such a late hour. “You only call me, ‘Mama’ when things aren’t going right, any other time it’s just, ‘Ma’. Not to mention you sound like you’ve lost all motivation for living.”

  “Yeah, it feels like that.”

  “You’re not in jail, again are you?” she asked again, voice rising slightly.

  “No, Mama, I’m at home.” I clenched my fist, unable to catch myself from calling her, ‘Mama’.

  “Where’s Lashawnda; It’s awfully quiet over there?” she asked, getting at the root of what spurred my late-night phone call.

  “Maybe she’s sleeping,” I offered to lighten the mood.

  “Is she sleeping?” Ma’s voice held a hint of sarcasm, knowing what the answer would be.

  I rubbed the back of my neck nervously. Thoughts of my mother’s prayer a few weeks back flitted into my mind. Was I screwing this up by not giving in to Lashawnda’s wishes? Yes, I wanted her to be happy, but I also wanted her to trust and believe we were a unit now—nothing was going to break us apart.

  “Maybe. I wouldn’t know for sure; she’s at her place,” I answered.

  I could hear my mother take a deep cleansing breath as is she was preparing for battle.

  “I don’t understand what’s going on with you two, and I don’t want to jump to conclusions. If I know you, and I think I know you pretty well, you already set your mind and heart on spending eternity with this girl. Lashawnda seems like she’s a reasonable woman. So, I’m not too worried that whatever this is, can’t be fixed.”

  “I hope you’re right.”

  “Well, tell me what happened, and let me see if I can help.”

  I got up and ambled around the townhouse, all the while telling my mother about the disagreement we were having. I tried my best to tell both sides of the story; but I really wanted my mother to understand my side of things. I pointed out all the pluses of us moving in together and emphasized that my main issue was Lashawnda thinking we needed to slow down cause our relationship might end. After what felt like forever, with Ma just adding a grunt or a ‘hmm’, I waited anxiously to see what she would say.

  “Sean what are you trying to accomplish?” she asked

  I walked into the kitchen and opened the fridge. I wasn’t sure what I was looking for; but without Lashawnda in the house, I seemed to have lost all sense of direction.

  “I don’t know what you mean,” I answered,

  Pushing the bottles of condiments to one side of the fridge, I arranged them by height. Lashawnda thinks it’s crazy that I organize them like this. I even organize her hair products too. Not to be overbearing, like she accused me, but I just think it’s easier to find what you are looking for this way.

  “Why do you have to choose this moment to put your foot down?” Ma asked.

  “I am not trying to be difficult about this situation with Lashawnda. This isn’t just about where we live.” I unconsciously slammed the fridge door shut.

  “Then please explain to me what this is really about.”

  “Trust,” I stated simply.

  “How is this about trust? All the girl wants to do is get a place of her own.”

  I plopped my massive frame into the chair around the table. I really hoped my mother wasn’t going to make me feel guilty.

  “Ma, I know Lashawnda. The only reason she won’t move in with me is because she is afraid things aren’t going to work out. I know she won’t say it out loud, but her not moving in with me is her way of saying, ‘when this fails, at least I can’t kick her out of my place’.” I ended the last part of my speech in a high-pitched feminine voice.

  “And, what’s wrong with that?”

  I was starting to feel my ire rise.

  “Ma, come on; are you serious? There is plenty wrong with it. She needs to be able to say with confidence that we are in this for the long run.”

  “Well, I’m sorry to break it to you, Sean, but most women would feel the same way Lashawnda does.”

  I huffed and dropped my head on the flat surface of the table. “Well, women are illogical.”

/>   Ma let out a wheezing chuckle.

  “Yes, sometimes we can be.” She sighed.

  “You can only imagine all the illogical things I did to get your father’s attention. Greyson Colcord used to think I was crazy; just like how you think Lashawnda is crazy. But you all love us just the same,” she reminded me.

  If she was still sitting in bed, I could almost imagine her looking at the picture that forever rested on her bedside table. Her and my dad were dressed for some party. Classic 80’s style with a little country flare. Not sure where they were headed, but Ma always said fondly, ‘it was the best time of her life’.

  “I really want her to see the big picture, Ma. I want her to know her lack of trust in what we have hurts.”

  “Sean, do you know how many failed relationships a woman experiences in her lifetime?”

  “No, I don’t, but Lashawnda has only been with me and her high school sweetheart. It’s not like she’s had a whole slew of relationships,” I added, not seeing what this had to do with them.

  “Well, let me tell you a little secret about women…we talk. Especially about the bad things men do to us. When I say she has experienced failed relationships, I don’t mean just her own. When her sister is having trouble with her husband, who do you think she calls?”

  “Lashawnda,” I answered without hesitation.

  “Exactly, and when her other friends want to vent about their boyfriend troubles, who do they look to for a shoulder to cry on. When coworkers share their dating horror stories, who is there lending an ear?”

  “Lashawnda.”

  I thought back on how often I would see the women in the office stop by just to chat with Lashawnda about what was going on in their lives. Even on the weekends she got phone calls from friends needing to vent. She was good at giving solid practical advice. I almost wished she could call herself so we could work through this mess.

  “Right again. So you see, she has had a ton of experience with failed relationships. She knows all about the bad things that some men are capable of.”