Sunday Brunch

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Sunday Brunch Page 5

by Norma L. Jarrett


  “Negro, please. Yes, I am having an affair-with God,” I quipped.

  “Oh, no. Not this again,” he said, rolling over.

  “Yes, this again,” I said, moving toward the closet.

  “Everybody sins,” he said.

  “Reggie, I really think we need to talk.” I saw his look of reservation. Oh, no, he must be thinking, here we go again with the nagging. But I didn't care. I'd had enough.

  “I have to break this off for good. No more midnight drop-ins. There is no ‘maybe’ or ‘I think.’ I have to close this door. I've prayed about it, and I know in my spirit what God is telling me I need to do.”

  “I don't believe this,” he said as he shot up. “Who have you been talking to? Your girls? Or is it that ridiculous Pastor Graves. You just wanna be like him and his wife! Well, that's not me. I think you go way too overboard with this Jesus stuff.”

  I was seething, but focused.

  “Be careful of what you say, Reginald. I can think for myself. You're being spiteful. You have no one to blame but yourself for what's happening now. I've told you for a while now that I was unhappy. You didn't listen. Now, I have to show you rather than tell you. If you care for me, you won't be selfish and will accept what I've decided.”

  “Whatever, Lex. It doesn't matter. There are too many women in Houston to go through all of this,” he said as he began dressing.

  “What?” I turned to look him in the face.

  “You heard me. There are plenty of other women who I can get with who know how to treat a brother. I've had it.”

  My heart sank. He'd never talked to me like that before. “Reggie, just get out.”

  “You'll call me. You're looking for the perfect brother and he ain't out there. I'm the best thing you've ever had. Take a good look, Lex, 'cause once I'm finished, I'm through.” He walked out of the bedroom.

  I heard the door slam. I sat on the bed and the tears began to flow. I knew I'd done the right thing, but it still hurt.

  _____

  lexis, there's a Jewel Whitaker on line one for you.”

  “Thanks, Ms. Hobby.”

  “What's up? Don't you have anything else to do besides bug us folks that have real jobs?” I said.

  “Just calling to see if Friday is still on for you. Jermane called last night to double confirm,” Jewel said.

  “I'm in, but I know I'll probably be dead tired. The past few days have been rough. I've been in and out of court all week. I'm looking for the Jefferson case to settle, and we were so close, but now there's a delay. I also had to give Reggie the boot.”

  “What?” Jewel said.

  “Yeah, we finally broke it off.”

  “You broke it off with him I hope?”

  “Yeah, two days ago.”

  “Did you catch him cheating?”

  “No, just other stuff. I'll talk to you about it on Sunday at brunch.”

  “You know that's not right. Don't leave me hanging! I always tell you every single, solitary detail of my breakups!”

  “Jewel, please don't take me through this drama now. I don't have time for it.”

  “Fine. Everyone says Friday is still good. We're meeting at my place at 7:45 p.m. There's an 8:30 show at Club Jontel, and then we're going to head to the party.”

  Jewel was always our social coordinator because she had the least to do at work. She was usually finished with her work by mid-afternoon and then spent the rest of the day on her personal agenda.

  I hung up, looked at the pile of papers and folders on my desk, and realized that organization was not a gift that the Lord had blessed me with. I made a mental note to add that to my prayer list.

  There has to be a better way.

  dashed home Friday from the office to take a quick shower and dress for girls' night. We met at Jewel's so we could carpool. Angelica drove her car and Jermane drove her SUV. We all looked good, but Jermane shocked me.

  She wore a strapless black dress that clung to her curves. Her hair was slicked back and her gold hoop earrings added to her sexiness. She had traded her red lipstick for a bronze hue, and she glowed. Men would be falling in line for her.

  We pulled up to Club Jontel and had to wait about 15 minutes for the valet to take the keys and park the cars. We found a table and kept our jackets on since the air-conditioning made the room feel like a fridge. Jermane seemed more excited than usual, moving her head to the music and being silly. If I didn't know her, I would've thought she had had something to drink before coming out, but Jermane rarely drank. The waitress came over, made a quick inspection of the table, and asked if she could get us anything.

  “Would you like to start a tab?” she said.

  “Yes!” Jermane answered enthusiastically before we could all answer.

  What was her problem? Lord, why am I here? I don't want a drink. I'd rather be at home relaxing, watching The Best Man for the one hundredth time. Just for the part when Morris Chestnut comes around the corner at the beginning of the movie. This is too much madness.

  I looked around the room at the clusters of women drinking and talking loud. This is so not me.

  The music was pumping and we strained to hear each other. Finally, we gave up talking. At that moment, the announcer—a short man in a royal blue suit—came onstage.

  “Ladies, I want to take this opportunity to welcome you to Club Jontel.”

  “That must be Mr. Jontel,” Jewel said.

  “Shhh!” we said in chorus.

  “All right, all right,” Jewel said.

  “We have for you tonight a show that will make your bodies scream, and your fantasies become reality.” About one thousand women, or what seemed like one thousand women, started to scream.

  I have a headache.

  “This is ridiculous. It doesn't make sense to me. Are we this hard up?” I yelled.

  “I feel you, Lexi. I can think of better things I can do with my dollars,” Capri said.

  “Could you both please just not be so sensible tonight?” Jermane said. “I just want to have a good time.” Then she let out a scream, acknowledging the announcer.

  We all just looked at her and then turned toward the stage.

  “Now, ladies, without further delay, Club Jontel presents ‘The Chocolate Delight Revue!!!!’”

  The music changed, the lights went down, and green, yellow, and red lights started flashing signs on stage that read:

  FEVER

  THE MECHANIC

  ESPRESSO

  NICE AND EASY

  MAGIC MAN

  JERONIMO

  COGNAC

  My mouth dropped as oiled chests, bulging calves, 6-to-8-pack abs, and tight, bulbous onions paraded by. As each man circled the stage and made his pose, I fanned myself, 'cause I was getting a little hot and bothered. Capri's mouth was hanging open. Jermane was almost standing on her chair. We had to pull Jewel back from rushing the stage, and Angel remained cool and composed while she held her cigarette.

  By the middle of the show, every jacket was off. Jermane was getting increasingly intoxicated and screamed with abandon. Capri had stuck dollar after dollar after dollar in the dancers' drawers. We were having a ball.

  “Ladies, we have a surprise for you. Our last and final dancer is the winner of the National Male Dancer competition held in Las Vegas. This is a special treat. He is big, bronzed, and a love god. They call him … The Black Zorro.”

  Flamenco music wafted through Club Jontel. Then Zorro made his entrance out of dry ice.

  “Whoa!”

  He was tall, about 6′2″, wearing a black-and-red cape with tight black leather pants and a red peasant shirt, bearing part of his buffed, bronzed chest. He had on a mask, but even from a distance, you could see how intense his eyes were. His brown skin had reddish undertones, and his crown of dreadlocks were sun-kissed with a light chestnut tint.

  He just stood there. That's all he had to do for me. Then the music got faster and he started moving his middle with a snakelike motion. The
crowd went wild.

  I couldn't believe my eyes. Jermane was standing alone, at the edge of the stage. After about five minutes of crowd-pleasing, Zorro eased over to her. I could not watch. He kneeled down, rubbed her face, and stood up slowly. He snatched off the cape and threw it at her.

  She wrapped it around her. She was in a trance. She had lost her mind. Rex would kill her if he saw her right now.

  Zorro pulled off his shirt to expose his perfectly defined chest. His stomach was so tight you could bounce a quarter off it. It was like nobody else was there, just Zorro and Jermane. He pulled her onto the stage and held her close, their bodies moving from side to side in unison.

  I covered my eyes momentarily, then opened them to see their movements getting more … vigorous.

  “That's it!” I grabbed Capri's arm, and we went to get her.

  “Let her have some fun!” Angel yelled. Ignoring her, we made it to the edge of the stage.

  “Jermane, get your butt down here!” I whispered loudly, clenching my teeth.

  Finally, Capri went up and grabbed her arm. Jermane instantly snapped back into reality. She left the stage and bolted back to her seat.

  “What in the world got into you?” I asked.

  “Would you get off my back! I deserve to have some fun. You're not my mother!” she yelled.

  “Thank God,” I said under my breath.

  “I told you,” Angel said, continuing to take in Zorro's body and moving in her seat.

  “Jermane, what's happening to you?” I said.

  “Alright, alright. I'm sorry,” she said.

  “Are you OK?”

  “Yes, just let me relax.”

  “Well, we better get going to the party,” Jewel said as Mr. Jontel announced when the next show would be held.

  “Jermane, you want me to drive?” I said, trying not to sound patronizing.

  “Yeah, ah, you better,” she said, lightly patting her face with a tissue.

  I thought you'd agree. You may be trippin' tonight, but you know better. Rex would definitely whip your behind if something were to happen to his car.

  I grabbed her keys.

  _____

  e got off the elevator, and it was instant Black folks. Everyone was dressed impeccably, and I recognized many of the faces from my old club days. Some people make a career out of that life. I could write a book of experiences from partying in Houston alone. What is really sad is when the same men who tried to talk to you two years ago approach you again and don't even remember you from the first time. I just can't hang anymore.

  “Hey, I see Roderick, one of my coworkers. I'll be back,” Jewel said, gliding to the other side of the room.

  Angel was at the bar, already being hounded by some overzealous guy. Jermane, Capri, and I headed for a table.

  “My head hurts,” Jermane said. She sounded more like herself.

  “You know you can't hang. Zorro wore you out,” I said.

  She said nothing.

  “I have some aspirin in my purse. Do you want one?” I said.

  “Yes. I'll be back. I'm going to the ladies' room,” she said.

  “I'll go with you,” Capri offered.

  “No, no, stay. I'll be fine.”

  We watched her struggle through the crowd, delayed every few steps by some interested man.

  “Isn't that Mr. Stanton over there surrounded by a small harem?” I said, nodding my head in his direction.

  “Umm, yeah, I guess so,” Capri said. Jewel came bouncing over.

  “Hey, isn't that your man over there, Capri?” Jewel said.

  “Jewel, chill out. I told you athletes turn me off.”

  “You are so dry,” Jewel said as she eyed some man at the bar.

  A waitress came to the table.

  “The gentleman would like to run a tab for your table.”

  We looked at each other.

  “What gentleman?” Capri asked.

  We sneered.

  You had to be careful. If you allowed a man to spend money on drinks, that meant he might want to hang around, which could be detrimental to the quality of your evening depending on who the man is.

  “Mr. Anthony Stanton,” she said in an indignant tone.

  “We'll gladly accept!” Jewel chimed.

  “It wasn't our imagination. He was looking at you, Capri,” I said.

  “Jesus,” Capri said, and rolled her eyes.

  About ten minutes later, Anthony strode toward us. His legs and arms seemed to go on forever. Just as he reached our table, he flashed a smile, revealing a deep dimple on the left side of his face. His hair was cut close and he had a small hoop earring in his left ear. His skin, the color of dark molasses, was slightly covered by a trace of five o'clock shadow. His eyebrows were thick and he had very expressive eyes. His lips, juicy and full, looked soft and moist. I think we all got lost in his presence for a moment. None of us spoke.

  “Hi, I'm Jewel Whitaker. Please excuse my rude friends,” she said, extending her hand. “This is Alexis and Capricia.”

  I could see Capri fuming. Number one-she hated being called Capricia. Number two-she hated the oversized egos of professional athletes.

  “Capri. My name is Capri,” she said as she looked at Jewel, effectively cutting her off from any other voluntary speeches.

  “I just wanted to introduce myself,” he said “I'm …”

  “Anthony Stanton!” a woman in a tight red dress and auburn weave exclaimed. She ran over and grabbed his hands. Before we knew it, there was a small circle of people around him. I kind of felt bad for him because he seemed slightly embarrassed and uncomfortable.

  But this just gave Capri more ammunition. She sat there, staring at the gathering, sipping on her wine as if she was being entertained at a show.

  In a few minutes, the circle vanished. Anthony turned toward us.

  “I apologize. Sometimes it gets rough,” he said softly.

  “Oh, that's all right, Anthony,” Jewel said.

  “Please, call me Tony. May I join you ladies for a minute?” he said cordially.

  I was tired of Jewel's mouth, so I spoke up this time.

  “Sure,” I said, “and thank you for the drinks.”

  “So, are you ladies enjoying yourselves?” he said, looking directly at Capri.

  “It's cool,” she said, clearly out of obligation.

  “Yes, it's a very nice atmosphere,” I said.

  “We try to keep a certain clientele,” he said.

  “A certain clientele?” Capri asked. “What do you mean by that?”

  “I mean, we just make sure the crowd isn't too young and there aren't any problems.”

  “Uh huh,” Capri replied.

  “I'm not sure I understand. Did you help throw the party?” I said.

  “Uh, actually, I own the lounge.”

  Jewel's eyes instantly opened wide and beamed. Capri took another sip of her wine, remaining aloof.

  At that, he eased out of his chair and cleared his throat. “If you ladies need anything else, please don't hesitate to let me know. It was a pleasure meeting you all,” he said in a velvety, sexy voice.

  I waited for Capri to say something. I could not believe she was about to let this man get away. Is it a full moon tonight? All my friends are losing it.

  He looked at Capri once again before he walked away and passed Angel and Jermane, who were on their way back to our table.

  “How in the world did you let that walk away?” Angel asked, gazing in Tony's direction.

  “Capri,” Jewel and I said.

  “If y'all want him so bad, you can have him. And, furthermore, I don't need any lessons from Gold Digger University,” Capri said, looking at Jewel. “I do have a good job and I can take complete care of myself!”

  Angel just shook her head and grabbed a cigarette.

  “Well, I'm going to dance,” Jermane said and got up. She'd apparently gotten over her headache and proceeded to groove to the music by herself.


  I think we started something we're going to regret.

  Angel soon went back to the bar and Jewel went, well, all over the place. Capri got up to dance as well, but not with Tony. He just stood at the bar, watching her.

  As I sat there, wishing I'd driven my own car, I felt someone's hand touching my neck. Ugh! Someone who barely knew me felt free to put his hands on me. Then I recognized the cologne. It was Reginald.

  “Hey, girl. You havin' a good time?”

  Dang, he's lookin' kinda good.

  “Hey, Reggie.”

  “You look good. How come you ain't dancing?” he said.

  'Cause I'm scared I'll be a weirdo magnet. “Just tired I guess.”

  “Well, me and my boys just got here,” he said, looking refreshed. He didn't seem to care at all about our nasty split.

  “Yeah, I've been here a while,” I said.

  “Is that Jermane?” he said, looking in disbelief as she shook her behind on the floor.

  “Yeah, that's our ‘little Jermane.’”

  “She looks good. Real good.”

  The nerve! He just broke Rule Number Four in the relationship code book. You never comment on how good your woman's friends look. Ifyou do, you better make it sound like it's totally innocent, not like you're really checking them out. But I guess it doesn't really matter with him, at this point.

  “Well, don't you have somewhere to go?” I said.

  “Don't be so hard, Lexi. Ya know I didn't want us to stop being together.”

  Just at that moment, Tony walked by with a trail of people following him. I looked at him with a “help me” look on my face. He looked like he needed a break, too, so he sat down and joined us.

  “Oh, Reggie, this is Anthony Stanton.”

  Reggie looked like he was staring at a ghost.

  “Yeah, man, I know who you are. I've been checkin' your game out,” Reggie said.

  “Uh, may I please speak to Alexis alone?” Tony asked. “It's kind of important.”

  “Uh, sure, man. Lexi, catch up to you later,” he said.

  “Ex?” Tony asked after Reggie had disappeared.

  “Yeah. It's that obvious, huh? You look like you were getting mobbed,” I said.

  “Yeah, it's frustrating at times. You don't know who is for real. I'm not really used to all this hype. When I played high school ball in Mount Vernon, back in New York, I got attention. But nothing like this.”

 

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