The Other Side Of the Game

by Anita Doreen Diggs

  He sighed. “Yes, a psychiatrist. I’ll pay for it.”

  “Put Evelyn on the phone.”

  “Evelyn is not here. She and I broke up, too.”

  I didn’t know what else to say.

  Chapter 38

  SAUNDRA

  I managed to squeak through my final exams and complete registration for the upcoming and last semester. God must have just held my hand each step of the way because it all felt like an out-of-body experience. Asha has been real sweet about everything and she must have said something to Phil because he has backed off.

  Yero is another story. Up until yesterday, he was showing up every day, but I kept telling the doorman not to let him upstairs.

  Christmas is one week away. I’m amazed at how much has happened to all of us in just a few weeks. Hopefully, Nick will take Asha away on a winter vacation. I’d rather sleep through the holidays than pretend to be cheery for her sake.

  Asha gave me some pamphlets about where to go for grief counseling, the warning signs of clinical depression and a book called Letting Go and Moving On. On top of all that, one night she pushed a business card into my hand. It was a referral to some psychiatrist on the upper West Side. I hope she doesn’t hit me with any more of that stuff. What I really need is to get out of this city and that will happen in May—right after the graduation ceremony. A train ticket to Los Angeles will be pinned to the blouse underneath my gown.

  A few days ago, Asha wanted to know if there was anything I needed. Yes—all my clothes, pets, books, design equipment and the sewing machine. And you know what? Her friend Nick rented a small truck, they changed into matching overalls with matching blue caps and zoomed off into the night. They brought back everything except Blinky. Asha is terrified of snakes.

  In fact, Asha doesn’t like the turtles, snails, fish, or my hamster. So, she avoids the living room and spends most of her time in the bathroom, bedroom, or kitchen.

  It isn’t fair to restrict someone else’s space so I’m going to surprise her by selling all the animals. I just need to get through the holidays first.

  Chapter 39

  ASHA

  I called ahead and by the time Nick and I showed up for Saundra’s things, Phil was nowhere in sight. There was just a very sad-looking Hugo. He watched silently as we carried stuff out.

  Yero and I had a pact. We would share clues and solve the mystery together.

  Saundra still refused to tell me what happened; she wasn’t taking Yero’s calls or letting him come upstairs. All she did was brood, take long walks, read and meditate. I plan to give her this one last night of grief and then I’m putting a stop to it.

  To my surprise, Saundra was on the phone one night when I got home from work. I waved at her and she responded by blowing me a kiss.

  She kept running her mouth as I threw my coat on a chair and hunted around among all the strange items in my refrigerator in the hopes of finding one normal beer.

  “You finished the collection! Twenty-five poems that you’re satisfied with?” she asked into the receiver. “I’m so incredibly happy for you! Oh, you’re giving me way too much credit. Encouragement is one thing but you did all the work. Yes, I’d love to read them. Well, I’m living here with my sister now. As a matter of fact, she just walked in.” She waved me toward the phone. “Well, it was nice talking to you.”

  “Who is it?” I whispered.

  “Derrick. He said you left a message on his machine.”

  “Whatever,” I said, angry that it had taken him weeks to return my call.

  “Asha, how are you?” His voice sounded lazy, like he had just smoked a joint.

  “Wonderful,” I made my voice sound light and devil-may-care.

  “Sorry it took me so long to get back at you but I’ve been focused on a project. Just wrapped it up last night.”

  He was cute, sexy and had a tight ass but my life had changed a lot since that night at Tea Party. Getting him into my bed didn’t matter as much as getting Saundra out of it. “Don’t sweat it, Derrick. My sister had told me all about your poetry collection.”

  Saundra’s jaw dropped at the lie.

  “So, what did you want?” he asked.

  WHAT? This man had seen me live and in person! He should have been hoping to take me out on a date. Praying that I would let him climb into bed with me. Instead, his voice was rife with disinterest and he was merely returning a call to his friend’s sister out of politeness. Oh, no! The brother was gay and I’d made a complete fool of myself.

  I had to save face. I thought of a quick lie and my tone changed to regretful. “Oh, this is really too bad. I was having some folks over for drinks because one of my girlfriends was here from out of town. To make a long story short, you seemed like her type and I wanted to hook y’all up. She’s gone now. I’m sorry.”

  “Very interesting.” He sounded amused.

  Time to get brotherman off the phone. “Thanks for calling back, Derrick.”

  “No problem, have a good night.”

  Saundra was puttering around the kitchen, not looking me directly in the eye. “So how was your day?”

  “Work is work,” I snapped.

  “Are you mad at me about something? Let me make you a cup of cinnamon tea.”

  “Cut the crap, Saundra. Your little joke wasn’t funny. Why didn’t you tell me that Derrick was gay?”

  “Because he isn’t. The truth is that he is into white girls so don’t take his rejection personally.”

  “Why didn’t you tell me?”

  Saundra’s eyes narrowed in anger. “Because I was tired of your irresponsible antics with men, that’s why.”

  The self-righteous bitch.

  Chapter 40

  SAUNDRA

  Having my possessions and talking to Derrick had made me feel a lot better. At least I felt like I was back among the living.

  The next evening Asha insisted that I go out to dinner with her. Even though, I wasn’t feeling well enough to sit around some fancy restaurant, she wouldn’t take no for an answer.

  “Saundra, will you fix me something to drink while I change?”

  I twisted some lemon into a glass of chilled Evian water.

  She looked at the glass and then back at me. “Thanks for the lemon. I’m feeling a little risqué tonight.”

  Oh, so she had wanted a glass of rum. I thought she was just thirsty.

  It went without saying that she was going to order alcohol in the restaurant. Why did she have to drink so much?

  I forgot her warning and flopped down on her Ethan Allen you-shouldn’t-flop-down-on-it leather couch. I picked up a crystal carving of the Eiffel Tower. “Asha, I’ve been meaning to ask, where did you get this? It’s gorgeous.”

  “Oh, Brent gave me that. He’s an executive at Tiffany’s. They have a lot of those kinds of crystal carvings. By the way, he plans to take me with him to Paris after the holidays.”

  “He works for Tiffany’s!” I didn’t even know they let black folks up in the ranks there.”

  “They take good care of him. He has no limit on his corporate expense account.”

  “He sounds perfect for you, why don’t you marry him?”

  “For the same reason you refuse to have a nice juicy steak. The very idea just makes me sick.”

  I sucked my teeth. “So when are you going to Gay Paree?”

  “As soon as he gets back from Aspen with his wife.”

  Aw, man! “His wife?”

  “Wait till you see these emerald earrings he bought me.”

  “You’re awful.”

  “Yeah, I know. I’ll be right back.” she grinned.

  She couldn’t wait to show them off. They were the most exquisite emeralds I had ever seen—oval shaped, nicely cut with diamond studded frames.

  She dropped them into my outstretched hand. “Look. Aren’t they beautiful?”

  I peered into my hand and then gave the pair back to her along with the truth. “No, Asha, they’re not. You slept w
ith a married man to get them.”

  “No I didn’t, he gave them to me as a present. Besides, I’m not the one who promised to love and cherish that woman, he did. If he doesn’t respect his vows, why should I?”

  My stomach clenched in disapproval but I was staying in her house so I decided to change the subject. “Where are we having dinner tonight?” I asked.

  “Jade Crown.”

  I smiled because Jade Crown wasn’t too fancy schmancy. They served the best Chinese food in the city for a very reasonable price.

  After our surprisingly traffic-less cab ride to Sixty-Third Street and Columbus Avenue we arrived in front of Jade Crown in exactly fifteen minutes. To our relief, as soon as the heavy glass doors of the restaurant closed behind us the noise from the street vanished, leaving us with just the peaceful tinkling of traditional Chinese music. We were greeted cordially by a tiny woman with an extraordinarily flat butt and escorted to a small red booth by the window.

  The restaurant was dimly lit, warm, and crowded. There were oil paintings of magnificent pagodas and giddy laughter from a couple sitting out of eye shot. It was hard not to think about Yero. I pushed him way back into a dim corner of my mind.

  As I sipped my tea, I noticed twinkles of mirth in Asha’s light brown eyes. “What’s on your mind?”

  “I’m thinking about my trip to Paris.”

  “Why?”

  “I’m thinking about what a diva I’ll be when I get there.” She grinned.

  I laughed because I knew she was right.

  “So what do you plan to see first?”

  “The Eiffel Tower, of course, but I’m really excited about seeing the Montmartre and Montparrase districts.”

  “That’s where all those jazz singers did their thing, right?”

  “Yeah, those neighborhoods were the Jazz Age in Paris.”

  “You’ll probably find nothing there.” I said.

  “Why do you say that?”

  “You’ll probably look just like those white folks that tour Harlem on buses every weekend, looking for a way of life that has vanished.”

  We both had a hearty laugh. “I don’t think so, Saundra.”

  “What I can’t believe is their lack of shame as they ride through like they’re on safari. We went shopping up there a few months ago and I couldn’t believe it. Harlem has once again become some kind of romanticized hub for a new generation of prima-tivists.” I stopped in mid-rant. “Asha, some guy keeps staring over here every time his date isn’t looking.”

  She swiveled her head around and then giggled. “It’s Brent. Come with me to the ladies’ room so I can get a look at his wife.”

  I didn’t want any part of this. “What makes you think that the woman is his wife?”

  Asha insisted.

  We walked slowly toward their table and Asha stopped, looking surprised. He was with a Polynesian-looking woman who looked like she could be a model.

  “Hi, Brent! How are you?” Asha said cheerfully.

  Brent’s eyes got extraterrestrial in size. “Hey, Asha!”

  She actually extended her hand to the woman. “Hi, I’m Asha. This is my sister Saundra.”

  She shook our hands and smiled uneasily. “I’m Lula.”

  To say I was uncomfortable would be a huge understatement.

  “Nice to meet you Lula. Well, I’ll see you later, Brent. You enjoy the rest of your meal.”

  We turned around and walked at a normal pace towards the ladies’ room. When we got into the bathroom we checked all the stalls to make sure no one heard us.

  “I can’t believe it,” Asha said, pacing back and forth. “That woman is not his wife.”

  “Surely you didn’t think you were the only one.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “The fact that you’re upset about whoever that woman is.” She waved a hand impatiently. “I couldn’t care less who Brent sleeps with. Didn’t you notice her ears? He gave that girl the same earrings except hers are ruby. Why did I get the emeralds and she got the rubies?”

  “Perhaps because that really is his wife,” I replied sarcastically.

  We collapsed against each other laughing at her greed.

  “No, Saundra. His wife is white and Hawaiian Tropic out there certainly isn’t that.”

  We left the sanctuary and returned to our table.

  When our waiter came back with our drinks we noticed Brent and Hawaiian Tropic leaving in a hurry. A few seconds later the hostess came over to Asha and shoved a note in her hand.

  Asha looked at me and back down at the balled up napkin. “What the hell?”

  She silently passed the note over to me.

  Neatly written in pink lipstick were the words STAY AWAY FROM BRENT OR ELSE.

  Chapter 41

  ASHA

  The note surprised the hell out of us. Who would have expected that sweet-looking woman to be a closet Glenn Close? Saundra wanted to confront them before they got too far up the block but I didn’t think that was the smart thing to do. Obviously Lula wasn’t playing with a full deck and, if she was crazy enough to write the note, then who knew what else she was capable of. I didn’t want to find out. Saundra suggested that I tell Brent that he might have a problem on his hands but I thought, why should I? He’s a lying, cheating bastard and he should learn the hard way.

  Kevin buzzed in that I had a phone call from you know who.

  “Thanks, Kevin, I’ll take it.”

  “This is Asha Mitchell.”

  A cleared throat. “Hey, Asha, it’s Brent. How are you?”

  “I’m fine and yourself?”

  “Good, good. Hey, I just wanted to say . . .”

  “One second, Brent, I got someone else on the line. Hold on.”

  I sat there with the phone on hold. I wanted him to suffer through this. After going to the water cooler down the hall and getting a Snickers out of the vending machine, I came back.

  “Sorry about that, you were saying?”

  “I was saying that I wanted to apologize about last night.”

  I rolled my eyes at how rehearsed his apology sounded. It’s almost like he quantified the exact pitiful sounding tone and pitch to get my forgiveness.

  “I don’t know why you’re apologizing, Brent. We have no commitment, so save that guilt trip for your wife.”

  Silence.

  “Uh . . . okay. Well, then, can I see you tonight?”

  “Sure.”

  A deep sigh of relief. “Good, I’ll send a car to take you to the Four Seasons at about five-fifteen.”

  “Okay I’ll see you then.” I said calmly.

  “Ciao.”

  After work it was pouring rain and I ran to the sleek gray Lincoln Town Car and hopped in the backseat. The driver nodded a hello and took me to my destination. As I walked through the cold, geometrically complicated building and up the stairs to the discreet Four Seasons restaurant, all I kept thinking about was how I was going to bring up the ruby earrings.

  “Good evening, Ms. Mitchell. How are you?” the maître d’ asked.

  “Fine, Lucio, and you?”

  “Very well, madame. What is the name of your party and I’ll check the list to see if they have arrived.”

  “Uh . . . Davis.”

  The maître d’ squinted as he scanned the long list. “Ah, right this way please.”

  I was confused because there were no other Black people in the room. We stopped in front of a tall blonde sitting with her hands folded.

  I tapped Lucio. “I’m sorry there has been some kind of mistake. I was looking for Mr. Brent Davis.”

  “There has been no mistake. I am Mrs. Brent Davis.” The blonde said softly.

  My heart began to thump wildly in my chest. Shit. What the hell was going on here? The tension must have been painfully obvious because Lucio scampered away like a frightened squirrel.

  “Uh . . . hello . . . I’m . . .”

  “I know who you are,” she said with her eyes narrowi
ng.

  I couldn’t believe this was happening. “What’s this about, Mrs. Davis?”

  Her mouth was drawn tightly in anger and when she parted her thinly glossed lips, it looked painful. “Please have a seat, Ms. Mitchell, we need to talk.”

  “I don’t have anything to say to you, Mrs. Davis.” I turned to walk away.

  “If you take one more step, I will embarrass us both. Please sit down.”

  Now I was getting furious. A part of me wanted to test her but Mama always told me never to test someone who is desperate and has nothing to lose. I used the Four Seasons a lot for business and I couldn’t afford to get banned. I eased down in the chair and sat there stoically.

  “You have been sleeping with my husband for quite some time, Ms. Mitchell.”

  The turtleneck I was wearing felt like it was squeezing tighter and tighter around my throat. “Obviously if you went to this trouble to get me here, you must know for a fact that I am sleeping with Brent, so I won’t insult your intelligence. But to be quite frank, Mrs. Davis, I think this is a personal problem between you and your husband.”

  Her milky skin became a rosacea-colored blush. She leaned forward with her teeth gritted. “I’m glad you won’t insult my intelligence because I know exactly what you’ve been up to. I’ve been looking at all of Brent’s receipts and credit card statements and the purchases . . .”

  I held up my hand. “Like I said, this is between you and Brent. Don’t worry about him seeing me anymore because I’m done with him. I don’t need this drama.”

  She sat back with a smirk on her face. “It doesn’t matter if you see him or not because I have filed for divorce and I’m going to take him for everything he has. So, Ms. Mitchell, he won’t be able to afford Badgley Mishka and all those other gifts you’ve been receiving.”

  So much for the ruby earrings.

  “How did you get me here?” I asked.

  A waiter came over to take our order. He looked fresh from Sicily.

  “I’ll have a cup of Earl Grey,” she said.

  “I’ll have the same.”

  She sat sideways so her long stockinged legs could cross. I could tell by her mannerisms that this woman came from old money.

  “Brent was at home when he called you. I heard everything when he asked you to come here to meet him. I simply called his secretary back pretending to be you and cancelled so I could meet you here.”