Crazy Love

by Desiree Day

  “Hey, that’s good. Why don’t you do it? You’re still young enough to keep up with the kids,” he joked.

  “I don’t know…” Stacie hedged, then said, “It’s not the age thing…I don’t know the first thing about being a teacher,” she admitted, suddenly feeling stupid.

  Jackson wrapped his arms around her waist. “They have this new thing called the Internet. Have you heard of it?” he joked, and Stacie playfully slapped him on his hand.

  “That’s a good idea. I guess I feel so overwhelmed that I don’t know where to start. And I’m not sure if I have what it takes,” she said softly. “I never stick to anything. I get so excited about stuff, then halfway through when it’s not going well…I just drop it. So how do I know if I’ll stick to this teaching thing?” she asked, though Jackson wasn’t sure if she was asking him or herself.

  “At least you act on what you want. So many people sit on the bench and watch life go by. At least you jump in and play a little, even if you’re tired by halftime. You just need to learn how to stay in for the whole game.”

  Stacie burst out laughing. “Thank you, Coach Brown,” she said, and Jackson chuckled. “I’ll give it a try. What about you? What would you be?” Stacie asked.

  Jackson thought for a second, then said, “A bus driver.”

  “A bus driver?” Stacie asked, frowning. “That’s not playing fair, you’re already a bus driver. You have to pick something that you really want to be. Think hard. And tell the truth!” she demanded.

  Jackson laughed. “Baby, I am telling the truth. I wouldn’t make this up. If I had to be anything in the world, I’d be a bus driver. It’s wonderful. I get to meet a lot of people. Case in point, I met you.”

  “Yeah…but you really didn’t meet me on the bus. First you met me at Houston’s, then on the blind date, then we met on the bus,” she finished.

  “That’s what I’m saying. If it wasn’t for the bus, we wouldn’t have seen each other again,” he teased, then his voice turned serious. “Besides, I’m driving people to the next step in their lives.”

  “Really?” Stacie asked. He made being a bus driver sound so interesting.

  He nodded his head. “I’m dropping people off at their jobs, doctor appointments and job interviews. When people get on the bus they’re moving…literally. It’s an awesome job,” he finished, then added, “And I like working a big piece of equipment.”

  “Oh!” Stacie uttered as a slow grin spread over her face. “Which one?” she quipped.

  “Which one you think?” Jackson drawled.

  Her hand slipped down between his legs. “This one?” she asked with wide-eyed innocence. Jackson groaned as she gently stroked his crotch.

  “You’re not tired, baby?” he asked. Stacie shook her head no, then pulled his pants off.

  Jackson smiled. “You’re a hot little something.”

  “You want me to cool it down?” Stacie asked as she slid down to her knees in front of him and gently began nipping at the inside of his thighs.

  “Aw, hell naw!” Jackson moaned as his legs widened to accommodate Stacie. Her eyes were closed as she lovingly tongued his thighs, then gently blew warm air on the wet kisses. Stacie inched her way down to the back of his knees, where she made little circles with her lips. She grinned when Jackson’s legs twitched.

  “You liking this, baby?” she whispered, and Jackson whimpered in response. “Well, you’re gonna like this a whole hell of a lot better,” she promised, then reached up and grabbed his sack and gently rolled it around in her hand.

  “Stacie,” Jackson uttered in a strangled voice.

  “Just playing with part of your big equipment,” Stacie chuckled, then wrapped her hand around his penis and tenderly caressed it. Jackson’s hips mirrored her hand movements. “Feels good?” Stacie asked, and Jackson nodded. Leaning down, she gently brushed her lips against his tip, then teased it with her tongue until it began pulsing in her hand.

  “Stop playing and suck it,” Jackson begged. Stacie lowered her head and took him in her mouth. Jackson slowly exhaled as her lips wrapped around him. He gripped the couch cushions as her head bobbed up and down. “Ahhh, baby, are you ready for the big equipment?”

  “Give it to me,” Stacie said, and waited while Jackson slipped on a condom. “How do you want it?” she asked, staring hungrily at him.

  “A million ways, but right now, bend over the back of the couch.”

  “I’d love to do it with you a trillion times,” Stacie said as she got into position and her body shuddered when she looked over her shoulder and saw Jackson staring at her with lust-filled eyes. “Do me, baby,” she whispered.

  “A million ways,” Jackson promised as he slid into Stacie and she whimpered with excitement.

  “Oh, Jackson,” she panted as she pressed her butt up to meet his strokes.

  “Move that ass for me!” Jackson shouted. Stacie clung to the back of the couch as Jackson leisurely pumped in and out of her.

  “Princess, I lo—” Jackson heard a car door slam and he froze. “Oh shit! They’re back.” He was so close to coming; all he needed was a couple more strokes. He increased his speed when he heard Jameel on the other side of the door. “Stacie, baby, make me come,” he begged, with one eye on the door.

  40

  Sometimes an Occasional Detour in Life Is Just What the Doctor Ordered

  Tameeka poured herself a glass of wine before heading to her bedroom, where she locked the door. She picked up a shopping bag and pulled out a leather-bound journal. She took a sip of wine, then settled on her bed. To Know Oneself Is to Know Your Best Friend: How to Live a Fulfilling Life said that she should get straight to the point and write like she was talking to a friend. Tameeka thought for a moment, then her pen flew over the pages as her thoughts tumbled out.

  I messed up—really messed up. I cheated on Tyrell. I know that’s incredibly bad. Horrible!!!!! I still can’t believe I did it. Not once, but twice. I had spread my legs faster than a drunk college coed at a frat party. And it was with Mohammad, my ex-fuck buddy. Crazy!!!

  I always teased Stacie about being a dick lover. But look at me, I’m just as bad, maybe even worse, because I’m a hypocrite. At least Stacie knows what she is and embraces it.

  I don’t know how I could’ve done what I did to Tyrell. So what, he eyeballed women like he hadn’t seen one in years, and so what if he wanted me to give up my friend? I mean, that isn’t reason enough to cheat, is it?

  I mean, I love Tyrell, I really do. We’d go out, he made crazy love to me, he left me breathless. Was he my soul mate?…I don’t know, but he was close to it. But the brother couldn’t keep his eyes on me. No matter where we’d go, his eyes bounced around like two balls. They were glued to some lady’s ass, legs or tits. Am I wrong for wanting him to admire only me?

  The cheating wasn’t planned, it really wasn’t, it just happened. How many times has that excuse been used? Anyway, it wasn’t like Mohammad and I planned for something to happen, it just did, it truly did.

  The first time it happened, at Heaven on Earth, I was mad at Tyrell. We had had a fight the night before about his eyeballing. This isn’t an excuse, I’m just telling you what happened. Then Mohammad came along and he made me feel beautiful, as if he would never look at anyone else. Damn! The sex was hot. The second time when he did a pop-in at my apartment, I couldn’t turn him away, he looked too adorable.

  Tameeka set down her pen, then wiped tears from her face.

  She really needed to be accountable for her behavior. She knew that. She couldn’t blame her actions on what Tyrell had done. She picked up her pen again.

  I miss him so much, I hurt. I haven’t felt like eating. It’s not a fun way to lose weight. Not that I lost a lot, but some. I don’t think that I’ll ever get over him.

  I don’t know why I did it. Maybe because my parents left me to be raised by my grandmother. So maybe I have abandonment issues. Or maybe it’s what the book says—I feel I don’t deserve lo
ve, so I sabotage my chances at it. I bet that’s it. That’s how I feel. If I look back at our relationship I can see where I intentionally pissed Tyrell off. Like bossing him around and not getting the keys from Mohammad.

  Tameeka set down her pen and silently reread what she had written.

  “I need to call Tyrell and ask for his forgiveness. Am I ready to do that?”

  41

  Single Father’s Guide to Dating Tip #2

  Baby momma drama is more painful than having surgery sans anesthesia—avoid both at all costs.

  Saturday morning when Jackson pried open his eyelids, they felt heavier than a set of bricks. He hadn’t gotten a good night’s sleep. A quick glance at his legs told him that he did a lot of tossing and turning; the blankets were snaked around his legs like restraints.

  He kicked the blankets off, then swung his legs over the side of the bed; and that’s when it hit him. Michelle’s unsupervised visits started today. She’d have Jameel for five hours. Five unsupervised hours outside the house.

  Jackson and Ettie Mae were sitting on the couch, stiff as two statues, when at five minutes to nine there was a knock on the door. Jackson huffed, then inched toward the door. When did she start trying to be on time? he thought. He was taking longer than he should have because Ettie Mae cut her eyes at him so sharp that he swore if he’d looked down, he’d see a gash across his chest. He picked his pace up a little, but not by much. Why rush to give my child over to the devil?

  There came a second knock, harder and more insistent than the first. Jackson snatched open the door to see Michelle on the threshold, glaring at him.

  Their eyes locked, staring at each other defiantly, neither one willing to back down. Jackson didn’t mind; the longer she played this game, the less time she had with Jameel, so he held her gaze and milked it for what it was worth. She sensed his strategy and her eyes softened. She started smiling like she had just found the biggest stash of crack. Jackson opened the door wider and she breezed in.

  “Is he ready?”

  “He’s ready. Have him back by two o’clock,” Jackson demanded curtly.

  “I know what time he’s supposed to be back,” Michelle said amiably. She wasn’t looking for a fight. “I’ve got the paper right here,” she said, patting her purse.

  “Whatever,” Jackson grumbled, as he clenched and unclenched his hands. For the first time in his life he had the urge to hit a female. “Two o’clock. That doesn’t mean two-thirty, two forty-five or two-oh-five. But two o’clock on the dot!” he barked. He didn’t notice Jameel sneaking up behind him.

  “Two o’clock. I hear you,” Michelle agreed. Jameel quietly watched their exchange with wide, frightened eyes. He didn’t like it when his daddy was mad.

  Jackson began firing questions at her “So where you taking my boy?”

  “I’m taking our son to the zoo, then to lunch.”

  “My son!” Jackson corrected. “Who’s driving?”

  “Look here, nig—” She clamped her mouth shut, silently counted to ten, then started over. “I’ll be driving. Haven’t had any accidents yet,” she proudly boasted.

  “Yeah, probably haven’t had your license long enough,” he sneered. He held out his hand and demanded to see her license.

  She refused, then quickly changed her mind. She didn’t want any arguments. All she wanted to do was get her son and leave. “Hold on.” She dug around in her purse and pulled out the laminated document and passed it to Jackson, who carefully inspected it. Satisfied that it didn’t look counterfeit, he passed it back.

  “Where’s your car?”

  Michelle simply nodded toward the street. Jackson opened the front door. A shiny black 1999 Honda Accord was in his driveway. He didn’t ask whose car it was. All he knew was that she couldn’t afford it. “You insured?” he asked.

  Michelle put her hand on her hip. “It’s in my glove compartment. Would you like me to go get it?” she asked sweetly.

  “Naw, that’s all right. Do you have a cell phone?”

  She rattled off her number and Jackson fumbled around for a pen before quickly jotting it down.

  “Are you done? It’ll be all right…I’ll take care of him…he’s my son too,” Michelle said. But her reassurances fell on deaf ears as Jackson watched, openmouthed, as she grabbed Jameel’s hand and sauntered to the door. At the threshold, Jameel turned to his daddy, eyes wide with confusion.

  “Aren’t you coming, Daddy?”

  Jackson felt a tightness in his chest. “Not today. It’s gonna be just you and your mo—Michelle,” he said quietly.

  “Your mother,” Michelle corrected him.

  “I want you to come too,” Jameel whined. Jackson knew from experience that a tantrum wasn’t far away. He was almost tempted to let him explode, but then thought better of it. He leaned down and pulled his son to him.

  “Listen, Jam…I can’t come. You’re gonna have fun with Michelle, you guys are going to the zoo, then going to eat. I bet if you’re good, she’ll buy you a hot dog.” He looked up at Michelle and she gave him a short nod. “We’ll do something tomorrow, just us men. Okay?”

  “Okay,” Jameel squealed, his eyes bright with excitement. He loved spending time with his daddy.

  “We’ll be leaving now.” Michelle grabbed Jameel’s hand and trotted down the steps. Jameel kept looking over his shoulder at his father. Jackson watched as Michelle buckled him in the car; he watched as she backed out the driveway; he watched until the car disappeared around the corner.

  42

  Why Family Is So Important

  They keep it real

  They keep you grounded

  They are always there for you, no matter what

  Stacie and Jackson lay together on his bed. Jackson was on his side with his arms wrapped around her waist, and Stacie’s rear end was molded perfectly to his front. Lying on top of the blue-sheeted mattress, they looked like a slice of the moon floating on the ocean. The bedcovers were strewn across the floor, along with empty beer bottles. It was one o’clock, another hour before Jameel was expected home, and Jackson was wound as tight as a pair of church lady’s drawers and he had been ever since his son had walked out the door four hours ago.

  She wanted to give him something else to think about, so she brought up a subject that he loved to talk about.

  “I need your help,” she said, and when he didn’t say anything, she continued. “I don’t know what I’m going to do about money. I’m up to my neck in debt. Can’t afford to get my car fixed, and the money I get from unemployment isn’t makin’ it. And I really want to pay my bills. What do you think I should do?”

  “Be more damn careful with your money, that’s what I think you should do,” Jackson snapped.

  Stacie shot up. “Excuse you? Don’t be getting tart with me, Jackson,” she said as she crossed her arms over her chest and rolled her eyes at him.

  “That’s all you talk about, your bills, no money—”

  “Well,” Stacie huffed. “I didn’t realize it bothered you so much. I won’t…” comprehension dawned, her face softened. “I’m sorry, baby. I’m so sorry. Here I am being selfish, talking about my problems, and you’re worried about Jam. Oh crap, all I wanted to do was to give you something else to think about, instead I’ve made you feel worse,” she said.

  Jackson tugged Stacie and she fell on top of him. “It’s all good, princess. I shouldn’t’ve gone off on you. I’m sorry,” he said as he nuzzled her neck.

  “It’ll be okay,” Stacie reassured him while hugging him tightly. “I think I drank too much juice, I need to use the bathroom.”

  “Okay, when you get back, we can go over some ways for you to save money.”

  “Cool,” Stacie said as she slid off the bed, slipped her feet in her shoes, then hurried off to the bathroom where she locked the door. Even before using the toilet she had her shoe off and up to her nose. Ten minutes later, Stacie had used the bathroom and was back in Jackson’s room. “So are you ready
to help me now?” she asked brightly.

  “Yep. Come on back on the bed. I’ve been thinking. Since you’re so good at writing lists, why don’t you make a list of things that you could do to save money,” he offered. Stacie snatched her purse off the floor, then fished around in it until she found a pen and a pad of paper. Jackson shot her a bemused look and she wrinkled her nose.

  “I’m a sistah who’s always prepared,” she retorted. “I’ve kinda sorta already done one, but I can always add to it,” she said, then bowed her head and began working on her list.

  Stop getting manicures and pedicures

  Do my own relaxers

  Buy store-brand groceries

  Jackson peered over her shoulder, grabbed the pen out of her hand and scratched off the first item.

  “Hey! Whassup? Why did you do that?” Stacie questioned.

  “I’ll pay for you to get your nails done, I can’t have you walking around here with crusty heels and messed-up fingernails,” he joked, then he glanced over at his nightstand. “Oh shit!” he groaned.

  “What?” Stacie asked alarmed.

  Jackson shook his head. “Jam’s inhaler. He left it. If he has a coughing fit, he might die.”

  43

  Single Father’s Guide to Dating Tip #3

  Remember that you should always hand your problems over to God.

  He’ll be okay, won’t he?” Stacie nervously asked.