by Candice Dow
Her office chair faced the opposite direction. I wondered who brought her so much joy on the other end. I cleared my throat. She took a few seconds before turning her chair around. Finally, she hung up the phone and looked at me.
I felt the vibration on the floor from her heart dropping. Her eyes widened before she smiled. After she found her breath, she pointed to a chair. “C’min Devin. This is a surprise.”
“I can tell.”
“You could have called, you know.”
“My gut reaction told me to just pop up.”
She chuckled. “If I were mean, you could have gotten your feelings hurt.”
“If I thought you were mean, I wouldn’t be here.” I smirked. “Nah, let me correct that. You are mean.”
“No one has ever called me mean.”
“I take you out, send you flowers, and I never hear from you.”
“Whatever. If you want to talk, you know my numbers.”
“Guilty as charged. So, how’s your man? Is everything cool?”
She blushed. “Wonderful.”
Damn. I hoped she’d tell me he was a jerk and she stole him back for no reason. Instead, she looked undisputedly happy. “That’s all right.”
“So, what’s up with you and your love life?”
“Quantity and no quality.”
Her eyes looked compassionate. “I can’t imagine.”
“I never imagined it either.”
We laughed. “I know the feeling, though.”
“So, you want to do something for lunch?”
She winced. “I’ll be busy until around two and I have something to do at six.” She looked at the time. “So maybe we can go for coffee or something.”
“That’s cool. I’ll meet you outside at 2:30.”
“I’ll be standing outside of the building.”
Like clockwork, she walked outside of her building when I pulled up. She hopped in and asked. “Where we going?”
“I scheduled a massage.”
“A what?”
“I know you like massages.”
She smirked. “Yeah, I do but . . .”
“It’ll be fun. We can have our Dr. Phil sessions while we get our massages.”
She raised her eyebrows. “So, we’re going together.”
“We won’t see each other’s goods.” I chuckled. “I promise I’ll close my eyes.”
“You promise.”
When we got out of the car, Taylor and I stood face to face. She couldn’t pay me to believe that she wasn’t feeling what I felt. She smiled. “Devin, you’re funny.”
“What did I do?”
“Nothing,” she said, shaking her head.
When we got into the salon, I whispered to her, “I always get tense before I get a massage.”
She chuckled. “Why is that?”
“I’m always afraid that I’ll get aroused.”
She curled her lips like she didn’t want to visualize it. “Spare me.”
I would spare her all right. I just hoped that opportunity arose. We were taken into a small transition room. Wine and brownies were there. I picked up a brownie and put it up to her mouth. She bit into it and I wiped the crumbs from her lip. She smiled. I wanted to kiss her, but didn’t want to scare her off like the last time.
When the therapist came out, she told us we could change in the same room or separate rooms. We agreed on separate rooms, but to have the massages done in the same room. She looked like that was strange. I gave her the we’re-not-fucking-yet eyebrow raise. She chuckled. “That will be fine.”
When I entered the room, Taylor was lying on her stomach under a white sheet. My fear of being aroused crept up on me. I quickly lay on the table across from her. She lifted her head from the head rest. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah, I’m good.”
When the massage therapists came in, they discussed different aromatherapy scents. Taylor requested Clairvoyance. She said, “Is that okay with you, Devin?”
I laughed. “Yeah, I need some of that.”
“Me too.”
As the sounds of nature began to play, we both settled. Water washing up on the beach forced me to imagine Taylor in a bikini, us sharing a private island in paradise. As I inhaled the aroma, I prayed that her vision was as clairvoyant as mine.
A relaxing fifty minutes with one woman massaging every inch of my body and one beside me who had been one of a few to massage my mind made me feel like a king. I didn’t want it to end. When they told us it was done, I popped my head up. Taylor continued to lay with her eyes closed. One of the therapists said, “You guys can relax as long as you like.”
“Hey, Taylor.”
“Yes, Devin.”
“Did you enjoy it?”
“It was exactly what I needed.”
I swung my legs off the table and wrapped a towel around myself. I stood by her table. “I’m glad.”
Without opening her eyes, she said, “Are you in a rush?”
“No. I’m just going to change and let you relax here alone.”
“I thought we were going to talk about your issues.”
I hopped back on the table. “Okay.”
“So, tell me about your quantity.”
I scowled. “Not worth discussing.”
“How’s your baby?”
“She’s good. Remember we toasted to forgiveness. My ex-wife and I are actually working on being better friends.”
“That’s good.”
“Nothing else too much.”
I wanted to know more about her, but it was obvious she wasn’t sharing. “Okay, let’s get out of here. Maybe we can grab coffee before your six o’clock appointment.”
When we got dressed and out of the spa, she looked so peaceful. I wanted to resist, but I didn’t. I hugged her in the parking lot. She kissed my cheek. “Devin, you’re a sweetheart.”
“You seem more reserved than you did the first time we hung out.”
I opened the car door. I kissed her lips. She smirked. “Devin, I have to stay away from you.”
“Why?”
She sat in the car. I stooped down to hear her explanation. She sighed. “Because of this.”
“You feel it. Don’t you?”
She hung her head. “My boyfriend left a woman he planned to marry for me. I can’t risk what we have. You and I have too much chemistry. I think it’s best to stay away from you.”
I stood up and closed the door. Disappointment loomed over me as I walked to the driver’s side. When I sat inside, I respected her stance. “Taylor, your man is so lucky.”
38
SCOOTER
After working thirty hours, I should be asleep. Instead, I’m flying down I-95 en route to Taylor. You’d think I’d be tired of the same routine after three months, but to make my baby secure this is what I do. She’s a good sport considering my living arrangement. To get away from the war zone I live in, this seems like the lesser of two evils. My income tax return was deposited in my account three days ago. My new apartment was verbally approved and I could move in three weeks. We are so close to our destiny, I can smell it. Once I’m in my own place, Taylor can stay as long and as often as she likes without spending money. I’d hoped that I could surprise her with the approval letter this weekend, but the rental office didn’t send it out yet. I’ll give it to her on Valentine’s Day, her birthday.
I swerved to avoid a pothole. Bang! I felt that one. Suddenly, my car felt like it was riding on a square wheel. Thump. Thump. Thump. This must be a joke. As my car drifted onto the shoulder, I shouted, “Fuck! Shit! Damn!”
I just wanted to lie in Taylor’s fluffy queen-sized bed. Damn if I wanted to go back to Connecticut and sleep in that cheap daybed. Shit! I’m still in Connecticut. Rain pounded on the roof of my car. As it registered what was going on, I dropped my head on the steering wheel. Instead of calling for help, I called Taylor.
“Hey, boo-boo. Whatchu doing?”
“Sitting on the side of the road.
I got a damn flat and I don’t have a donut,” I said dismally.
“Oh no! I’m sorry. Do you have AAA?”
I nodded.
“Do you?”
“Yeah.”
“Why don’t you call them?”
I nodded. Why did I even call her? What did I think she could do?
“Yeah, I’ll hit you back.”
“I hope you can still make it.”
I huffed. “Yeah, me too. I’ll call you back.”
As I attempted to call AAA, a police officer pulled up behind me. He hopped out of his car and tapped on my passenger side window.
“You need help changing the tire?”
“Nah, I don’t have a spare.”
“You got AAA?”
With the phone up to my face, I nodded. “I’m calling them now.”
“Do you have anyone to come pick you up?”
Anybody who could pick me up was at work. Akua is post-call, too. We barely speak. Damn if she’ll get out of her bed after a long night of work to come get me. I prayed the tow company could drop me off somewhere to get a rental car.
When I spoke to the AAA representative, she asked if I’d be with the car when the tow got there. Where the hell else will I be? She checked on the trucks in the area.
“Sir, it’s going to be about two and a half hours.”
This is absolutely unbelievable. Trucks and cars sped past me going twenty miles over the speed limit. The slightest swerve around a pothole could slam one into the back of me. I had to get off of the highway. Putting my pride aside, I paged Akua. I sat there praying she’d call back.
When my phone rang, I jumped. “Ku.”
“What the hell do you want?”
I sighed. “Are you asleep?”
“Do you think I would have returned your phone call if I was asleep? I don’t fuck with you like that.”
“No.” I paused. “I need a favor,” I said.
“From me?”
“Yes, from you.”
“What do you want?”
“I’m on 95, right before Southport at Exit 20. I got a flat. I need you to come pick me up.”
“Wait on me, nigga!”
She hung up the phone. I don’t even know why I called her. Another officer came up behind me. He asked, “Is someone coming out?”
“Yeah, AAA. But they won’t be here for about two hours.”
I hoped he’d offer a solution, but he nodded. “Okay, I’ll come back and check on you in about an hour.”
This is bullshit! I leaned my seat back hoping I could at least get some rest while I waited. What a joke. A police officer tapped on my window every ten minutes or so. Don’t they have some kind of walkie-talkie system to say that there’s some dummy at CT-Exit 20 stranded in a Honda Accord? Don’t bother him, he’s okay. Obviously not. I pulled out an anesthesiology book and planned to study. My head nodded as my eyes glazed over. Headlights flickered in my car. A horn blew. I looked into my rearview mirror and saw Akua’s Ford Taurus.
I quickly called her. “Hey, I have to call AAA to let them know where the key will be. Don’t get out of your car. I’ll be back there in a minute.”
After I made arrangements for them to take my car to the nearest tireshop, I hopped out. From my car to Akua’s car, I got drenched. Unconsciously, I leaned over and kissed her cheek. “Thank you, Ku. I really appreciate this. I know you didn’t have to do it.”
“My father says a man should always have a spare tire.”
I wanted to tell her to tell her father to go to hell. Instead, I nodded.
“Where is your spare?”
“My spare was a new tire. When I got a flat a few weeks ago, I put the spare on and didn’t buy a new one.”
“You never think, do you?”
“Nope.”
She huffed. “I guess you were going to see your freak-ass girlfriend.”
I nodded.
She chuckled slightly. “That’s what your bitch-ass gets.”
I felt like I hadn’t seen her smile in months. We brush past one another in the house, barely sharing two words. We pretend we don’t know each other in the hospital. I chuckled, too.
Her eyes inspected my expression. We paused. She turned to the road. “You must love her to ride in all this rain, post-call. Maybe she is the one.”
I felt like I should lie. No. She’s not the one. For the sake of not saying anything, I looked out the window.
We rode back to New Haven in silence. When we got in town, we stopped at Starbucks. I asked, “When my car is ready, will you take me back?”
She nodded. At the same small table we used to study at when we were interns, we broke banana bread. The rain trickled down the window. She smiled. “Today is perfect for sleeping.”
I nodded. “Yeah. I should have gone home and gone to sleep.”
“I had a pretty light night last night, so I was wired this morning.” She curled her lips. “You’re lucky.”
“Thank you. I really appreciate it.”
“Don’t mention it.”
I felt like I was sitting with a stranger. She obviously had come to accept it was over. She wasn’t throwing out her usual slurs. She seemed peaceful. Maybe she’s been this way for a while, I just hadn’t noticed because I was so involved in my own life.
When we got to the apartment, I turned on the television and she sat beside me. We were zoned to separate rooms. What was up with this? I flipped through the channels. A reality show popped up. She raised her arm about to take the remote. Then, she relaxed. “I’m sorry. I was going to say, I like that show.”
Since she’d rescued me from the highway, she could say and watch anything of her choice. I handed her the remote. “Go ahead. What’s this?”
“A group of women that know they have some issues all go to this house and work on their issues.”
As if I cared, I asked, “What kind of issues?”
She shrugged her shoulders. “All of them have different issues. Some are OCD. Some are irresponsible. Just like social disorders.”
I frowned. “You like this show?”
“Yeah, sometimes I feel like I should go on there.”
“You?”
She nodded. “I could lighten up a little.”
“You could.”
We laughed. She smiled more this morning than at some of the happiest periods in our relationship. Maybe she’d come to accept her flaws. I appreciated that. Why couldn’t she have done this when we were together?
When they called to say my car was ready, Akua was in the kitchen. She asked, “Do you want a sandwich?”
I kidded. “So, am I allowed to have things labeled Akua?”
“If I’m making it, it’s okay. But my stuff is still off limits to you.”
I walked in the kitchen and my hormones pushed me up against her. I wrapped my hands around her waist. “Really?”
She tilted her head and looked at me. She smiled. I expected her to say, “Get the fuck off of me,” but she didn’t. Why did I feel a sense of accomplishment? Why did I like knowing that I could hit it despite all I’d taken her through?
I backed up. “I’m just playing.”
“What do you want on your sandwich?”
After we had lunch, we got in the car to pick up mine. Before she started the car, she sniffed. I looked at her and tears started rolling down her face. I’d been in this position once in my life. The person in the passenger seat seemed so heartless. Tears like the ones streaming from Akua’s eyes only fall for that one true love. Taylor was mine. I was hers. In all these months, she’d been angry. I didn’t think she was capable of this type of emotion. I sat stunned.
“I love you. Please don’t leave me.”
It was too late. Why didn’t she react like this at first?
“I know I have my faults, but I can change.”
I was speechless. She pleaded, “I have never loved anybody like I love you. I don’t care what anyone thinks of me. I don’t care if my fa
mily never speaks to me again. I want to be with you.”
Who was the girl beside me?
“I love you. I can’t imagine living without you.” She dropped her head in her hands. “It just hurts so bad. Please take the pain away.”
I rubbed her back, and she whispered, “What did I do so bad to make you leave me for someone three hundred miles away? Tell me. What did I do?”
Finally, I spoke. “You didn’t do anything. This was just something that I never resolved.”
“Don’t lie to me. I had to do something. I thought you were happy. I tried to do everything for you.”
I stroked her braids. “I know baby. It’s not your fault.”
She started the car. I felt like shit. When she put her hand on the gear, I said, “We don’t have to go. I’ll stay here this weekend.”
39
TAYLOR
Determined to make our relationship work, we were spending about five hundred dollars a week. I am a frequent Friday evening passenger on the US Airways flight number 977. It rolled out of Reagan National Airport at 5:25, and landed me in Scooter’s arms by 6:30.
While I waited to board, I sent him a text message: GETTING ON THE PLANE.
He quickly replied: CAN’T WAIT TO SEE U. I MISS U SO MUCH.
The five days separating us always feel like an eternity. I was burning inside to see him too, but I suppressed the desire to tell him. Instead, I stared at the loving note on my screen. As I re-read the message umpteen times, my cheeks stretched closer and closer to my ears. When they called my row, I stood up, rolling my carry-on with one hand and my wide-open flip phone and plane ticket in the other. I bounced toward the attendant taking the boarding passes. He noticed the sunshine beaming on my face in the middle of winter. “Guess this is going to be a special Valentine’s Day for you.”
Feeling rather silly, I tried to justify my jolly expression. “It’s my birthday. So every Valentine’s Day is good for me.”
He nodded as if he didn’t ask for so much info. “Well, happy birthday and Happy Valentine’s Day.”
I strolled through the terminal in a daze and sat in my seat. Before I turned my phone off, I took one last glance at Scooter’s message. As if it would make me feel closer to him, I rubbed the ball of my thumb over the screen. Then, pressed OFF. I snapped on my seatbelt and anxiously awaited takeoff.
