by Derrick Jaxn
"All right, Jaz, you got it. I'm out. I gotta get back home. I know Danielle's about to start getting curious."
"Yeah, wouldn't wanna be tardy now would you?"
"What's that supposed to mean?"
"Nothing, Mr. Defensive, take a joke."
I walked out feeling some type of way about her comment. It's kind of like the same thing your homeboys do when they're trying to make you feel stupid for staying out of trouble. But I should've expected that.
Jazmin was never a huge fan of rules or following protocol anyway. That was the biggest difference between her and Danielle. That 'friends with benefits' shit would never fly with Danielle, whether she was looking to be in a relationship or not.
She wasn't into any lingering friendships after intimacy. I admired that about her; the way she was always so emotionally responsible. When I was a teenager, I followed my heart blindly into a lot of pain, but Danielle paid attention to the road signs her mind gave to keep her heart out of danger. Even though Jazmin and I were more alike, Danielle was the perfect balance for me, and that's why she was the one holding my heart.
I got home to see her curled up on the couch in a scarf, wearing one of my t-shirts, eating homemade cookies and watching some drink-throwing reality TV show. She was picking up a habit of snacking more often lately, but the last thing I needed was to initiate a "you have to love me for me" argument so I let her do her thing.
"Hey, Superman. How was practice?" she said as I walked in.
"Long. Coach's wife must be holding out on him because he drilled the shit out of us today."
"Well, maybe if he stops spending so much time with y’all, and more with her, she wouldn't be so stingy with it."
"Hold on, where'd that come from?"
"Nowhere, I'm just saying." She kept a straight face and continued chewing the cookies. "You hungry? I made one of your favorites tonight. There should be enough spaghetti to last us a week this time. I made a huge pot."
"Oh, you shouldn't have. Thanks. I was starving." I don't think she realized just how often she cooked spaghetti and just how fast I had gotten tired of it. It used to be once every few months, but now it was damn near bi-weekly. "So what's that you're watching?"
"Real House Side Chicks of Atlanta. I missed the last episode, so I'm finally catching up tonight. I can't believe that Jacky had the nerve to pop up on her best friend's man at work. I swear, these side chicks be having main chick emotions then wonder why no man will take them serious. They just have no respect for themselves. It's fun to watch though, so I'mma keep on doing it."
"I'm surprised you even get entertained by that stuff, Danielle. I thought you had too much substance to even tolerate it. Ain't you supposed to be somewhere sitting Indian-style, listening to audio books, and eating leaves?"
"Ugh, eating leaves for what?"
"I don't know, I figured that's what people who listen to audio books do. Seems peaceful."
"Now you're the one that needs to stop watching so much TV. I feel like you just subliminally called me a goat."
"Oh, come on now, of course I didn't. But if you were a goat I'm sure you'd be the most beautiful goat in the whole flock, baby." I reached down and kissed her forehead.
"Superman...sweetie…..goats don't travel in flocks. Those are birds."
"Look, you know what I mean. I think that reality TV is making me dumber by the second. Turn to some ESPN. I'm tryna see Lebron and the Heat play tonight."
I went in the kitchen and fixed a plate of ol' faithful, a.k.a. spaghetti. As she promised, there was more than enough spaghetti to fill a kitchen-sized trash can which is exactly what I had in mind, but I knew better.
I couldn't expect her to be outstanding in every category, but I was in lust with the thought as I watched the re-heating plate rotate monotonously in the microwave.
I looked back at the couch and noticed she was completely ignoring my request to change the channel. It was like the reality TV show had hypnotized her into a trance, lowering her IQ with every martini that flew across the table. But I let her have it. With the way I had been coming in late, I didn't have a lot of room to talk so a few sacrifices on my part wouldn't hurt.
Chapter 11
I Got You
"Jazmin, I can't. No, as matter fact I won't. I simply refuse."
"Stop being a bitch. You're a big boy, you can handle it. Or can't you?"
"If I eat another piece of that cheesecake, I'm not going to have an appetite for dinner and Danielle's going to kick my ass."
"She won't mind, that just means more leftovers and less cooking for her. Now come on, eat up."
"Okay, if you insist." Gladly, I succumbed to the peer pressure and dug my fork into another chunk of her strawberry cheesecake. The more regular the spaghetti dishes at home became, the tougher it got to witness the greatness that was happening in Jazmin's kitchen without being a part of it.
"Good, I knew you wouldn't resist. I made this one a little different from the last one. I found another spice, normally used for apple pies, and put that into the crust. That and a few other secrets I won't share just in case you feel the need to go back and tell everyone. I might open up my own restaurant one day."
"Yeah? What would you name it?"
"Jazmin's." she said, as if a vision of the actual restaurant just flashed before her.
"Oh, how creative of you. Did you come up with that all by yourself?"
She rolled her eyes and sucked her teeth. "See you always gotta be a hater."
"You know I'm just kidding, Jaz. You got talent. On top of that, you actually enjoy doing it. Most people cook because they have to. Either they got a family, or they're trying to diet or something. But you do it just for the love of it."
"Well, my momma always told me that the way to a man's heart is through his stomach. I don't know how true that is, but I know whoever my man is will be well-fed."
"Yeah, I'm sure. I hope you like ‘em chunky 'cause he gon' be fat as hell once he tastes this cheesecake. Your restaurant gon' stay packed."
She looked at me, scanning my face for sarcasm. "You really think that, Shawn?"
"Yeah, man, I know it. Just give me and my family free meals so I can get refuge from Danielle's cooking every now and then." I hadn't fully gotten the words out my mouth before I realized how wrong that was. My heart was the worst when it came to filters, and it was speaking under the influence of the deliciousness that was on my fork.
"Well, maybe you could take some of the pressure off her and do a little more in the kitchen yourself. Why do men think it's the women's job to do all the cooking? I love to cook and I still get tired of it every now and then."
"I mean you're right, but to be honest I'm no Rachel Ray on the stove either."
"Well, I can teach you to cook. That way you won't be over there starving."
"For real?"
"Yeah, I'm surprised you haven't already asked me to actually. While you over here struggling to resist my food, you can just make the same thing at your house."
She had a point. While I was busy being Jazmin's taste tester, I should've been doing more to help Danielle out. It had been a few months since we had gotten back together and now the daily routine of living together was getting tough. Being the man of the house was still about teamwork and I wasn't being the best teammate.
"Okay, cool. I'm down. Well write up your recipes for me and I'll try-"
"Oh, no, no, no. You will not be writing down any of my nothin'. That's how stuff gets stolen. Real recipes are memorized anyway. My momma never used a written recipe and neither will I."
"But Jazmin, I can't always be here for you to teach me."
"Don't you want better food at home?"
"Yeah I do, but still I-"
"But nothing. That's probably why she keeps making the same thing over and over again. She wants you to step up and help her out. I swear you guys just have no clue about us."
"Okay, but I don't need a full menu for her to see
my effort, do I? A few dishes and we should be good."
"Look, cooking is just like sex. Once you get the basics down, the rest is pretty much up to you and your creativity. And you never were too creative."
I snapped, "The hell that's supposed to mean?"
"Oh nothing. Isn't it about your bedtime? I got a test I need to study for and surely Danielle is wondering where you are."
"If you want me to leave, just tell me to leave. I was on my way out of here anyway." I got up and headed toward the front door, the remainder of my cheesecake in hand. "Tomorrow, 7 o'clock sharp. Let the cooking lessons begin," I said as I walked out.
I doubt Danielle was curious about my whereabouts. At least that's what her actions were saying. She was acting strange lately, distant almost. She had gotten more and more wrapped up into TV and everything at home just became a mundane routine.
Long, passionate French kisses turned into pecks on the cheek as we parted ways in the morning; lazy ass "it gets the job done" sex every now and then, and that damn spaghetti.
We still talked, but even the conversation had been reduced to the habitual "Hey, babe, how was your day" conversations as I rambled, she nodded, and then vice versa. Then she would run off to her reality TV shows and studying, and I'd either go to work or sleep.
Danielle and I not only lived together, but we also had the same classes, so the few minutes I did spend at Jazmin's house after practice became a breath of fresh air. She was my only friend, outside of Danielle, and ever since the incident that led to our "break", Danielle made me her only friend.
Naturally, things got a bit stuffy, but I supported her efforts to rectify our trust by avoiding miserable females who wanted company. So I kept my mouth shut and hugged her through it as usual.
One night, I came home and I noticed something was different. Danielle was really starting to pack it on. Her stomach, her thighs, and everything else had noticeably gotten bigger.
In my eyes, she would always be beautiful no matter how big she got, but what worried me was where this pattern of behavior was coming from, or better yet where it was leading to.
I saw her in the living room on the couch. This time the TV was off, but she was still watching it. "Babe...what's up. You all right?"
"Yeah, I'm all right, why?" she mumbled.
"You don't sound all right. Baby, you do know the TV is off?" She looked away as if I touched a nerve.
"Yeah, I know."
"What's wrong? Talk to me, sweetheart." Even though we were within arm's reach, she continued to avoid eye contact.
"I just don't feel...happy. Not like with you, I just mean in general. I have a weird feeling and I don't know what it means to be honest."
"Okay, so you sure it's not me? Is there something I can do to fix it or make it better or-"
"No, Superman, it's something I gotta figure out." I saw her eyes water before she dropped her head again. "I think I'm just overwhelmed by life right now. Everything is too much. Sometimes I feel like I need a pause button so I can catch my breath. I get sick and tired of waking up every day trying to dodge judgments, discern amongst the fake smiles and greetings, sifting through people's bullshit just to get to the little piece of truth if there's any to be had. Most of all, I'm sick and tired of being sick and tired. I'd love to give all my burdens to God, but I feel like He's the one giving them to me and I don't know why or how much longer I can carry them."
We both paused a moment to let everything she said sink in. It was clear this was something she had been thinking about for a while by the emotion in her tone.
I cupped one of her hands between both of mine and looked her in her eyes. "Baby, that's what I'm here for. Until you feel like you've given your burdens to God, at least let me help you carry them. Holding it all in is only going to make it heavier on your conscience, and there's no need when I'm right here. He gave you burdens but He also gave you help. You just have to be willing to accept it."
"If it was that easy, I would've done it by now. You know how much I hate complaining, but not everything is so cut and dry or in black and white."
"I'm not saying it's easy, but we didn't make it this far by giving up. It'll take some time, sure, but the time has to pass either way. We might as well spend it working through this together." She looked back up at me. I must've caught her attention. "Look, we can find some hobbies together, maybe start taking morning jogs or dance lessons. Try to work out some of that negative energy and use it as quality time."
"Are you naming exercises because you think I'm fat?"
"No, of course not, you look fine. If you have gained weight, I sure can't tell." I looked at her, trying my best to keep a straight face. I could tell she bought it by the half grin she gave me.
"Well, I think I might have put on a few pounds so working out doesn't sound like a bad idea. Not right now though, let's start next week."
"Why next week?"
"I don't know. It just seems like a good time to start. You can't just start things in the middle of the week. It's bad luck...or something."
"Okay then, babe, next week it is. Can I have a kiss?" She smiled and reached over for another peck, but I turned my head to steal one on her lips. I locked in and grabbed her love handles to pull her closer. I could sense an uneasiness when I touched them, as if she was more conscious of their existence, so I held on.
I wanted her to know that it didn't bother me. That no matter what, I was going to embrace her. I think we all go through our emotional ups and downs, and it's hard to tell what someone's battling internally by looking at them. But a lot of times, smiles are just knots at the end of the rope we use to hold on a little longer. For whatever reason, things were getting to her, so I needed to make myself more emotionally available for times like these. My love meant that she'd never have a problem again that had her name on it without mine beside it.
Chapter 12
But Baby...We Can Still Do This
The next day I called off the cooking lessons with Jaz. While it seemed like a good idea at first, I'd probably have more fun cooking with Danielle and messing it up with her than spending more time away from home to perfect the craft.
Jaz was upset, only because she went out and bought ingredients to do the teaching, but after my promise to pay her back and let her keep the food, she let it go. No sooner had I gotten off the phone with Jaz before I got a call from work. It was the middle of the day, so I assumed it was a mistake.
"Hello?"
"Hey, Shawn, are you on your way?" It was one of my coworkers, not sure which one. I purposely never paid enough attention to any of them to be able to distinguish between their voices.
"What do you mean, 'Am I on my way'? I don't work again until tomorrow."
"Well, according to the schedule, you're supposed to be at work right now, as in one hour ago. She just told me to call you before she wrote you up as a no-call-no-show." A no-call-no-show was grounds for automatic termination. I had military-like discipline when it came to showing up to work on time, but when it comes to cheap labor, that still doesn't get you very far.
"No, there's some kind of mistake. I only work third shift. She knows I have class in the daytime."
"Well, she's the one who told me to call you so it must not be a mistake."
"Put her on the phone."
"She's busy right now. Because you ain't here. So you coming or what?"
"No, I'm not coming. I'm walking into class right now. I can come right after to try and figure out what the problem is. Hello...hello?"
She had already hung up by the time I finished my sentence. Manners weren't too high on the priority list amongst my coworkers and neither was class so I wasn't surprised.
There was no way I could be on the schedule for day shift. I went into class long enough to be counted presented and pretended to excuse myself to the bathroom so I could leave. I wasn't able to concentrate anyway so it was doing me no good to just exist in class.
Having a job seemed
like more of a burden than a blessing. It was stressful, and it did a number on your self-esteem when you see people who have everything just handed to them while you're scraping for every dime you get.
Bills will make you do some crazy things.
I pulled up at my job and saw three charter buses in the parking lot. Some soccer teams were on a road trip and just so happened to stop by apparently for a quick mid-day breakfast. I walked in and saw my manager at the front register glaring at me.
"Hey, what's going on? I got a call saying I was on the schedule for today."
"Oh, don't worry about it. I fixed it."
"Thank God, you had me worried for a second. I knew it was a mistake because I-"
"Oh, I didn't say it was a mistake. I said I fixed it." She continued to glare at me with a 'what you gon' do about it' smirk on her face.
"What do you mean? Like you took me off the schedule this week?"
"I mean the schedule is no longer any of your concern because you're fired. If I can't depend on you to come to work then I need to find someone else."
"But wait, how was I supposed to know you changed the schedule? I've had the same work hours for months now and they've always been at night. You never said you were doing anything different with the hours. C'mon you know if I had known to be here I would've come or at least have let you know something."
"It's your responsibility to check that schedule every day to see if anything's changed. You can't go on thinking that everybody's going to baby you and hold ya hand. I swear y’all college kids so spoiled." She curled her lips as if she wanted a reaction. I was still in too much shock to give her one. "I'll need your apron by 3 p.m. tomorrow or it's coming out of your last check."
"What check? We only get paid in tips."
She folded her arms. Clearly she didn't care about the apron. She just wanted to rub it in that she was firing me.
I had never gotten fired before and it was just as fun as I thought it wouldn't be. I looked over and saw everyone lined up in the back snickering and watching us. A part of me wanted to go off on them, but a better part of me knew that one wrong move, and I was going to be in the system dealing with that kind of shit for the rest of my life.
