Just Like Cats
Dear Dr. C.,
I dated a man for two years and felt like we had a really strong relationship. Like any couple, we went through some things, but there was no denying the love that we shared. Then one day, all hell broke loose. I found out that he was cheating on me. The thing that really threw me for a loop was that all the things that he claimed to love most about me—my intellect, my ambition, and the way I carried myself as a woman—they obviously didn’t mean that much in the end. The woman he left me for was a mess compared to me. I eventually met her after I found out that he’d moved in with her and was taking care of her two kids.
This was a year ago. Well, all of a sudden he wants to come back. He has been calling my job nonstop. I don’t take his calls, even changed my extension. He has sent me e-mails and he has even gone to my mother to tell her how much of a fool he was. I have been seeing someone for a few months, but I honestly do miss my ex and what we had. What I want to know is: Should I give him another chance, and how do I know if he’s real this time?
Still Loving Him in Los Angeles
Still in Love,
First off, I have to applaud you on being real with yourself. This is a tough one. Your situation is the epitome of damned if you do, damned if you don’t. What if you take him back and he hurts you again? What if you deny him and yourself the chance to be with your true love?
You see, even your true love can take you through monumental changes on the way to becoming your ideal mate. Sometimes it takes a period of growth by trial and error. You have to look, with your eyes wide open, to determine if he is sincere. They say nothing good comes easy. If you decide to give him another try, which I would do if I were you, then move slowly. See what he is willing to do to get back in good. Make him earn it every step of the way, your trust included. If he proves worthy, then move forward. The only reason I suggest giving it a shot is that you still love him. Remember, though, it’s not for him…it’s for you. Remember that, but never mention it to him. And make the following agreement with yourself that you don’t break under any circumstances. The second you find yourself unhappy…drop him like he’s hot.
Yours truly,
Dr. C.
April 2006
The meeting had seemingly come from out of nowhere. A friend of a friend of a music exec had seen Jacob’s performance with his group at Hammerjack’s in Baltimore and the call had come two days later.
Talk of No Question recording an album had been going on for three months now and nothing had come of it. Jacob had begun to get frustrated. It wasn’t so much that he feared that his time was passing him by, it was more that he didn’t want to become just another member of a local band. He’d seen other artists blow up in the D.C. area and he knew that he was just as talented as any of them. One small record company out of Philly was interested in signing them as a band, but neither a contract nor any money had been offered.
Elise had also been in his ear during the couple of months he’d been seeing her. He’d been amazed that a girl so young could have such a practical outlook on life. “Jacob,” she’d said. “Loyalty is a great thing and you should always strive to bring other people along when you find success. Unfortunately, you can’t truly help anyone until you make it, not without sacrificing the very success you are striving for. You have a chance to be great. You can’t give that up for your friends in the band. I wouldn’t even want you to give it up for me.”
As they sat in the bed she’d added, “People see you headed for stardom and they don’t want you to hop on board that train without them. But a lot of times, they don’t know what you did to get that ticket. They don’t know your pain, the risk you’ve taken. All they know is their own fear and that they don’t have that same ticket.” She’d leaned in and kissed him on the forehead that night. “You’ve got to punch that ticket, baby. Another train is leaving the station right behind you. They can prepare to board that one.” Elise had become his biggest fan and his personal cheerleader.
A week later, Jacob recounted the entire conversation as he sat in Gladys Knight’s Chicken & Waffles out in Largo. Sonny Kingsdale, an A&R guy from Warner Records, was ready to walk Jacob right into headquarters and get a deal done. “It’s not a question of can I get you signed. It’s just a matter of you being prepared to do what you have to do. I can’t promise you anything about your band. I can’t even tell you that they’ll be able to play for you when you tour. Maybe, but maybe not. They do sound great behind you on the demo, but who knows? When it comes down to it, these things take on a life of their own. A year from now, they might not even be able to get a ticket to one of your shows. I’ve seen it happen before. I’m only telling you this because I’m a straight shooter. The last thing I want is an unhappy artist. You go solo. You blow up. You lose friends and sometimes even family.”
Jacob felt pressured. “So how soon do I have to let you know?”
Sonny was a fast talker. It was how he got paid. He looked at his watch. “About forty-five minutes ago,” he said in a matter-of-fact tone. “Listen, Jacob. It’s a no-brainer. You sign with me and I walk you in. You get a deal and you have a career. If not, I walk away and your ship has sailed. Maybe you get another shot down the road. Maybe you don’t. But you risk playing in these little hokey spots until you’re forty-five. There’s a million cats who can sing, but not a million record companies. I hate to be short, but I gotta run. I’ve got a flight to L.A. leaving at four and traffic’s a bitch. What’s it gonna be?”
Jacob thought about it. He thought about his band members and all the things they’d talked about doing. How they’d believed in him and had helped him even get into a position to have someone offering him a shot.
Sonny went on about how Jacob was going to be the male version of Jill Scott. “You mean the next Maxwell, then, huh?”
“Exactly. That’s putting it even more precise. You’ll be huge, as far as neosoul artists go,” he said.
Jacob signed the paper. He was officially in negotiations with Warner Records and could no longer shop for a deal or perform with No Question, not until his deal was done. Sonny hadn’t left anything to chance. He didn’t want anyone stealing away his new commodity.
“You won’t regret this. Keep your nose clean and I’ll talk to you next week to let you know when we’ll be sending for you.”
“Do you think I’ll be able to finish out the school year?”
“Why would you want to?” Sonny laughed. “But sure. If you want. That’s what, two months, right?”
“Yeah, about.”
“Okay. We’ll still get you out to Cali some time in the next couple weeks to get your deal done and we’ll take it from there.”
Jacob walked through the door of Elise’s apartment. She was seated on the couch Indian style, watching Hustle & Flow on DVD. When she looked up she couldn’t read his expression. “So how’d it go?”
When he explained how everything had gone down and that he’d signed the deal, Elise leaped up and screamed, doing a little dance on the floor. “I’m so happy for you. I’m so happy for you.”
Then they hugged and she kissed him on the cheek. While she held him she whispered in his ear, “I’m so proud of you.” He could barely contain his emotions. They were winning together. Then she added, “I hope this doesn’t blow you, but I have some news as well.”
Jacob didn’t like the look on her face. “Oh yeah. What’s that?”
She exhaled and said, “I’m leaving. I’m going back to Indianapolis.”
Puzzled, he said, “You hated it there, though. Why?”
“My aunt is really sick and I need to go and help out. She really needs me. The kids need someone to look after them.”
Jacob’s heart sank. “So you’re leaving as soon as the school year is over?”
“No, I’m leaving next week.”
“What?” he yelled. “You can’t leave…I—” He cut himself off. Then he went on: “Elise, what about your dreams? I’m
going to do this music thing and I want you with me.”
“You’ll be fine. We’ll be in touch.”
“Be in touch?”
“It’s not like you’ll never hear from me again.”
“You can’t go, baby.”
“Don’t do this, Jacob. Don’t try to make this hard.”
“But, sweetheart, you inspire me and…” His voice began to crack. “…I need you.” Jacob’s heart was now throbbing. He couldn’t bear the thought of her leaving. In an instant it felt as if his whole world was crashing down. Honestly, he felt like crying.
“I’m sorry, Jacob. But you’re a grown man. Those kids need me, too. Their mother is sick and she was there for me when I needed someone.” She sounded as if she didn’t care about walking out on him. As if leaving was easy for her. Perhaps the whole thing had been in his head. Maybe the time they’d spent together had really been nothing.
Out of pain his tone became biting. “She used you as a housekeeper and a babysitter. You don’t owe her.” He moved closer to her and his desperation became clear as his normally smooth voice cracked. “She can hire someone to help. I’ll pay for it. You don’t owe her…”
“Well, I don’t owe you either.” Her expression turned ice-cold. She stood and shouted, “Man, I can’t believe you’re acting like this.”
“I can’t believe you’re acting like this. What about all that stuff you just finished saying about following dreams and not letting anyone hold you back. You’re acting like a gullible little girl right now.”
“Yeah, a little girl, huh? Was I a little girl when you were digging all up in this?” She waved her hand dismissively and said, “Jacob, get the fuck out of my house.”
“You—”
She cut him off and repeated herself three times in all, her voice growing louder with each demand. The last time she walked to the door, opened it, and yelled, “Now.”
As Jacob moved slowly to the door he noticed a tear rolling down her cheek. He stopped and said, “Elise, I’m sorry.”
“Jacob, just please go. Please.”
He walked out the door and down the steps. He sat in his car for a minute before he started it. It should have been one of the most exciting days of his life; he was going to record an album. Instead, he felt like his head was about to explode the same way his heart had. Before he realized it, he was crying. He drove off and tried to pull himself together as he faced the fact that he was in love with Elise.
Elise’s hands were trembling as she dialed the number. “Hello” came the voice on the other end.
“I did it, okay,” Elise said. “I ended it. Now please, just leave him alone.”
“I’m warning you. If I see you with him again…any of his shows, I will go to the principal and the police. I will ruin him.”
“Don’t worry, you won’t.”
“I better not,” she said as she watched Jacob pulling off.
“You made your point,” Elise said, and hung up the phone. As the pain of losing what she’d built with Jacob began to consume her, she climbed up off the couch and struggled to make it to her bedroom. She didn’t make it. Her knees got weak and it was all she could do to make it to the toilet, where she threw up, again.
Usually Paige didn’t have much time when she rolled through. Half the time she came in the door and immediately devoured me. Fuck first, ask questions later. Since the night we’d met, our sexcapades had grown in frequency until I was sure that I was hitting it more than her husband. She was staying until the wee hours of the morning so often that I was wondering where her man was fitting into the equation and if he actually lived in the house.
I had gotten used to enjoying her company even when we weren’t sexing each other up, but there was no mistaking what our relationship was about. We’d lie in the bed sometimes and talk afterward, and that was cool. Other times she’d simply admit that she only needed an attitude adjustment. On those occasions she’d come through the door, bend over the sofa, and take it hard and fast. Then she’d head home to her husband before her panties even had the time to dry.
This weekend we’d planned to really hang out some since her husband was off at a motorcycle convention of some sort down south. So with his absence, we’d spent the day out at Tyson’s II, doing some shopping. Paige had been thoughtful enough to pick up a couple things for him while she shopped. When we finished we decided to get a bite to eat at Legal Sea Foods.
Over dinner we had a talk about my career. “Diego, I read your column the other day,” she said as she sipped on a glass of Chardonnay. “It was pretty good. But I have to ask. Where do you come up with some of the bullshit answers you give?”
“Pardon me?”
“I mean, do you really believe the things you say? Like that women should be submissive. Or that men don’t want to know that their women are cheating?”
“Everything I say is from the heart. Absolutely.”
“Wow. So what kind of response are you getting? Do women like your answers?”
“Hell yeah. They write all the time with their praises. I get so many e-mails from sisters all over the county saying that they have been waiting for someone to come along to keep it real with them. Most people try to give politically correct answers, or say something simply for the sake of being controversial. That’s bullshit. I say what’s real. If you gave a nigga some truth serum and asked him some questions…that’s what you get with me.”
She nodded. “So, how much do they pay you for that?”
“They pay me.” I laughed. I figured that she was trying to figure out my financial status. She’d seen me spend a thousand bucks at the mall and I figured it had her wondering. She knew that I taught school for a living, and the damage I’d done in Saks wouldn’t add up in her mind.
“They must be paying you okay,” she said. “You seem to stay fly all the time.”
Actually, my stylish dress had been a new development. I had just recently been able to spend a few bucks on nice things. The first part of my advance from my deal for my radio show, Ladies Listen Up, had just come through. So Paige had come along at just the perfect time. With the money from the column and my school salary, I was able to blow a few dollars. Since she was the main woman I’d been sleeping with since I’d fallen out with Lanelle, she was the recipient of any generosity. I purchased her a Louis Vuitton bag and a couple pairs of shoes. She seemed really grateful.
WJDS had agreed to pay me $150,000 a year to host the show. My agent, Kenny Stein, whom I’d hired at the direction of Jonetta, had been incredible. He’d gotten me $50,000 up front, and after his commission, I had just cashed in a pretty nice check. We were going to begin rehearsing in a month and the show would launch at the end of June.
We finished up dinner and headed back to my place. Paige had brought an overnight bag and was prepared to spend the night. As we drove around the beltway she gave me head while we listened to the best of Barry White.
I didn’t cum while I was driving as she’d assured me I would, but she more than made up for it once we got settled inside. I wondered why it was that I felt more free with married women. I was truly enjoying Paige. It wasn’t just the sex either. When we were allowed the time, we could talk for hours on end. I would listen to her tell me stories about her childhood. She was from Camden, New Jersey, and she had the greatest stories about her childhood. Her father had been a member of the Harlem Globetrotters and she’d traveled the world with him.
An evening that had been all up suddenly went downhill when at around two in the morning her cell phone began to ring. Her husband was dialing her. From inside her home, no less, when he was supposed to be out of town. The fact that I’d picked her up, and that her car was parked in her garage, had me thinking that she was busted and in major trouble.
Though she was tired and worn out from our lovemaking, she remained calm. “Relax,” she said.
She quickly dialed one of her friends. “Hey, girl. You got any company? Good. Did he call you? Well,
if you see my house number or his cell, don’t answer. I’ll be to your house in fifteen minutes. I’ll have him come and pick me up from over there…” She paused. “I don’t even know. His ass must have come home early. No, I don’t know why, but I’ll call him when I get over there.” Pause. “You know the drill. Pop a bottle of wine and put two glasses on the table. We were watching movies and fell asleep.” Pause. “Love Jones, of course.”
By the time she hung up the phone, I had my pants and shoes already on ready to walk out the door. So did she.
23
Out with the Old
Dear Dr. C.,
Last summer me and my girls went on a vacation to the Essence Festival in New Orleans. There were six of us, all of us married except two, and one of them is newly divorced. We talked and bonded during the trip and had a really great time. One thing in particular disturbed us. Through our conversation, we realized that by our last night there, we had all been hit on by a brother who was either married or in a “serious” relationship. It got us to thinking about our men. Were we cynical to think that given half a chance, our men wouldn’t do the exact same thing?
During a round of drinks at dinner, one of the girls, I’ll call her Katrina, suggested that we make a pact. The agreement was that we all take that last night and live out our fantasies with whomever we chose and that whatever happened in the Big Easy would stay there. Of course we dismissed her as being crazy, but as the night wore on and the Hand Grenades and tequila shots continued to flow, a few of us decided to go through with it. I’m ashamed to admit that I was one of the girls who decided to do it. I don’t know why. I’m not unhappy in my marriage and I love my husband. Yet and still, I actually lived out one of my fantasies and had a ménage-à-trois with two of the finest brothers I’d ever seen. The only problem is that I’ve been feeling really guilty about it for the last nine months and I’m considering being honest with my man.
Ladies Listen Up Page 21
