by Tiana Laveen
He turned off the bathroom light and returned to the bedroom, only to find Sky sitting against the headboard, perched there like some little queen, messing with her phone. A big, greasy smile was spread across her happy little face.
Oh, how he loathed her…
He crossed his arms and glared at her.
“What are you doing?” He walked around the bed, then slid under the sheets next to her.
“Sending Scarlet a text message…” She giggled.
He wasn’t amused.
She HAD been out here laughing…
“And may I ask what you’re tellin’ her?” He tried to look over her shoulder and take a peek, but she gave him the gas face and leaned away, blocking his view.
“Hold on…” She laughed again, her fingers flying across the keyboard.
And then, something quite strange happened, she handed him her phone. He took it, curiosity gripping him, and she shrugged, that smile still on her face. Fluffing her pillow, she made as if she were going to sleep and completely turned her back to him. Shaking his head, he proceeded to read the text messages between her and Scarlet…
Sky: Girl! I had to give in. We just got finished.
Scarlet: I knew it! I hadn’t heard back from you in hours. I hate u bitch. Was it good?
Sky: Is Roseann Barr batshit crazy? What do YOU think?
Scarlet: BIIIIIITCH! I need to live vicariously through you, with your boyfriend stealing ass! I GOT QUESTIONS! How big is it? Can he work it? How many times did you cum, bitch?
Sky: 1. At least 8 or 9 inches. BIG AS FUCK. 2. Yes, the White boy has moves and that tongue? GIRL! OMG! Never came so hard in my life. 3. Came at least 5 times. No lie. Damn he is good!
Scarlet: Have you told him?
Sky: No I am not telling him. His ego is already huge.
Scarlet: No, not that.
Sky: Told him what?
Scarlet: What u told me last week????
Sky: Nope. But he just came out the bathroom so I’ll tell him now. By the way, he told me first.
Scarlet: BIIIITCH! ARE YOU FOR REAL?! YOU ARE IN! Guys like him don’t do that – you got him, bitch! SHARE THE BAG! If it wasn’t for me you wouldn’t have gotten this far. I require a 40% finder’s fee. Wingmen’s Lives Matter! Well, wingwomen.
Sky: LOL. I’m about to hand him the phone since he is being nosey so he can read it for himself: LAZARIST, I LOVE YOU, TOO…
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Money Can’t Buy Me Love…
LAZARIST SAT IN the café by himself, nursing a cup of coffee and typing away on his computer. He’d told himself that he was going to go to Manhattan, get away for a bit and work. There’d be no distractions, just him and the music from his computer, the people talking, the cars going by, and the big world all around him. He took a seat outside in the courtyard of the Intelligentsia Highline Coffeebar located in the Highline Hotel Chelsea. He’d never been before, but his girlfriend—
He paused and smiled.
Girlfriend…
He was still getting used to such a notion in the pleasantly odd turn of events. But anyway, Sky had recommended it, saying it was her little spot to just sit back for a spell, especially in the warmer part of the year. She’d been on him once again about work-life balance because he’d been backsliding.
Initially, he’d protested, claiming it was all in her mind, but just when he thought he had her convinced, she pulled out receipts. The woman was keeping tabs on him! His comings and goings… she’d used an app to track everything. How dare she! The hours working were once again creeping up, and though they still spent quite a lot of time together, she insisted on him making a change for his own health and wellbeing.
‘I love you… I don’t want to see you lose yourself again. One day, Lazarist, you are going to wake up, look around and wonder where the days went. By then, it’ll be too late…’
Perhaps if he were not at the club, but out in the fresh air enjoying a different environment, it would be better than no change at all. So, he’d conceded and agreed to try. After all, at least it was a compromise of sorts. He glanced at the time.
I need to call Mom sometime today… check in on her…
He wasn’t certain what made him think of his mother right at that moment. Perhaps he’d picked up a scent that smelled like her apartment, or someone wore a similar perfume. Whatever it was, she edged her way into his mind and he placed her in high priority.
He kept on typing for quite some time, updating various bits of information and seeing to different tasks. After a while, his cellphone rang. He answered it with a smile.
“Well, hello there. What a nice surprise.”
“Hi, sweetie,” came the sultry voice on the other end. “The class just let out. I’m going to pick up a salad, eat it real fast, then head over to Fox’s and look for a dress.”
“Over there on Kings Highway?”
“Yeah, that’s the one. Since you said we were going to that show I wanted to look nice.” He smiled into the phone. “I mean, I have a few dresses already but nothing as fancy as I’d like. Besides, I can wear it other places too. I’ve been needing something new that is a bit more upscale.”
“I’m certain you’ll find something nice. And I can’t wait to see you in it… then take you out of it.”
She laughed on the other end.
“Your mind is always in the gutter.”
“No other place I’d rather be. Anyway, as far as the musical, I think you’ll like it. When was the last time you saw a Broadway show?”
He tapped the table with his fingertips.
“Oh, goodness, Laz, it’s been years. I’ve never seen Phantom of the Opera, though. That’ll be a new one for me.”
His smile grew larger. He loved doing things like this, taking people to places they’d never been, showing them things they’d never seen. It had to be a matter of control for him, kind of like being a teacher or a tour guide; there was power in that, being the one in the know while the rest followed his lead. But, he also just enjoyed pleasing people, treating friends and family to a good time, seeing their faces light up with delight.
“I can’t wait tuh take you, baby… it’s gonna be great. Do you want my credit card number for your dress at Fox’s?”
“No! Why would you ask that?!” He was taken aback at her response, as if she was deeply wounded by such a proposal.
“Why tha hell are you flyin’ off the handle? It was just a question. I just thought it would be a nice gesture is all! What are you tryna prove, Sky?”
“No, the question is, what are you trying to prove? I have told you several times, Lazarist, that I do not need you to do that for me.”
“Do what for you exactly, Sky?” He flopped back in his seat and rolled his eyes, soon remembering why women got on his nerves and were oftentimes a lot of hassle.
“Pay for everything. I make a decent amount of money where I can purchase my own clothing, okay? Now seriously, you’ve bought me enough stuff. It’s just stuff, right? Clutter… things! Is that what we need more of, Lazarist? Items? Shoes! Hats! Coats! We only have two feet. What do we need thirty pairs of shoes for?! I have seen too many apartments to count that look like an episode of Hoarders. Yes, I like pretty dresses; I like nice jewelry, too, but time is valuable. It’s the most expensive thing in this world and once it’s gone, we can never get it back. Stop flashin’ money at me and flash me your time! Flash me you takin’ on your day and having fun! Flash me your vulnerability and not your Mr. Boss man antics.”
Her words hit him hard. They stung.
“Unbelievable. I offer my girl a fuckin’ piece of change to buy herself a fuckin’ dress for a fuckin’ show that I fuckin’ invited ’er to, and get chewed tha fuck out! You’re somethin’ else! I don’t have time for this shit!”
“You need to calm down. All I am saying is—”
“I need to calm down? Try lookin’ in the mirror! Now, unless there is something pressing you really must say, I am hangin
g up. I hope you’re finished, because I really need to go.”
“Oh, that’s real interesting! You never need to suddenly get off the phone when I’m praising you, complimenting you, or sayin’ all the things you want to hear… strokin’ that big ol’ ego of yours. When I say something you don’t like though, tell you the truth, suddenly, the phone needs to go dead. Look, baby, there are too many things in this world, and not enough love and fun. Nice things are… well… nice, and I appreciate them, baby… I do.” Her voice softened, as if she realized she may have come on too strong. Perhaps his silence just then led her to that conclusion. “You’re so thoughtful, and yeah, I love so many things you’ve given me but if you spent ten bucks on a matinee movie for me in some dump of a theater, I’d have a good time there, too.
“I just want to be with you, Lazarist… You’re the fun, baby! You’re the party in the flesh! You’re the main attraction, not your money.” They both went quiet for a while as her words sunk in deep. “You must notice how people gravitate to you, right? Your laughter is loud and big, your presence swallows up a room! People love to be around you not just because you’re rich, but because you’re funny, you vibe well with crowds, you come across as down to earth and in the know! You are Lazarist Zander, self-made millionaire, sexy beyond belief, and best of all, you’re all mine. I’m not tryna hurt you. I just want you to live your life… enjoy it! You’ve earned it, honey. You deserve to clock out sometimes…”
“I’m all yours,” he said, but he was hurting. He did his damnedest to ensure she didn’t hear the pain in his voice. Her words brought it all home. It was now crystal clear…
He’d been overcompensating, tossing more and more at her due to something he didn’t wish to admit: he was afraid to lose her. Now that he’d gotten her, the thought of her drifting away caused him so much anxiety that he didn’t dare even go there in his mind. He was petrified because he was in love, and so afraid that she would see his inadequacies, find something within him that she didn’t like… perhaps a weakness?
“I’ll let you get back to what you were doing.” He forced a smile.
“But I’m the one who called you.” She chuckled. “All right, well, I’ll call you later on today. I look forward to seeing you tomorrow.”
“Me, too.” He blew her a kiss over the phone and she returned it, then he ended the call. He sat there for a long while, mulling over her words, playing them on repeat. She’d told him off, and loved him through the verbal ass-kicking. Nevertheless, he knew he wouldn’t be able to stop…
That’s just one of the ways with which I show my love… I buy things… The things are the leaves I wrap around the forest floor for protection… camouflage. Don’t look at me too closely; look at the things, my pretty distractions… It makes me feel good to do it… the shiny stuff, the diamonds, the nice smelling ointments and perfumes… I had them as a child, and then they were gone, so I busted my ass to get them again, and then some… and I have that right. I have made certain that I will never be broke again! Wise investments… ownership of property… plenty of money in multiple bank accounts. It’s called stability. Money talks in this city. Broke people don’t have a voice. I had no voice! I roared, but no one heard me! NO ONE GAVE A DAMN ABOUT ME AND MY MOTHER AND MY SISTER!
Now people listen! They fear me when they see me coming! They squirm during business negotiations because I let nothing slide! I am not a pushover! I am not soft! I AM NOT A FUCKIN’ PUSSY! They give a shit about what I have to say now! My money does the talking!
He looked around him and when he lifted his gaze to the sky, the sun almost blinded him. People walked about with their briefcases, luggage, and shopping bags, looking straight ahead, aiming for their destinations. They were all over the place, milling about. The world was passing them by. They didn’t get to see the whimsical flag waving at the top of one of the buildings that he just now noticed—it had a pink flamingo on it. They didn’t see the adorable little blond-haired girl crying as she pointed to her pretzel that had fallen on the ground. He turned in another direction and swallowed. It was so beautiful… just everyday people, with stories of their own, a hurried lifetime shoved in one single day…
They all had beating hearts inside of their bodies; they had dreams and ideas, girlfriends, wives, husbands, children and friends who loved them. Where were they rushing off to? Perhaps home? Was their house empty like his? Only filled with the vile rantings of a madman who showed up at his door every now and again at three or four in the morning?
No, he surmised most people were not like him. Most people had someone to hug, someone to miss, someone to care about. And now, so did he…
And she fell upon him like the sky, her words cutting to his core. He’d never let her know how deeply wounded he was, but it didn’t matter. What she’d said was true.
He was missing out…
He was missing out on the heartbeat of the city…
The heartbeat of the world…
Too busy trying to collect all the riches in the universe.
He swallowed the last of his coffee, packed up his laptop, and headed out of the place with a plan of action ready to be shot out of the barrel.
Today was officially declared a ‘Fun Day.’ No work allowed.
He was going to walk around the streets and go into stores he’d never paid attention to; the lousier they were, the better. He was going to speak to the owners, say hi to the customers, and buy something cheap and poorly made, and love every second of it. He was going to order a nice big greasy slice from a street vendor cart and enjoy every horrible bite of it, too. That was something he hadn’t done since he was a teenager, but back then, it was all he could afford. He was going to get himself a tall Coke with ice, or Snapple, either-or. He was going to purchase a bike to go riding in Central Park the next weekend. No! He’d purchase two! One for him and one for his beautiful Sky…
Whipping his sunglasses out of his pocket, he placed them on his face and beat the concrete with determined steps. He looked up at the sky and at the large, tall buildings. It seemed like they were looking down at him too, staring with their hundreds of rectangular eyes, winking at him and blowing him a kiss from their opening and closing windows.
I don’t know where I’m going, but wherever I end up, that’s where I need to be…
MOM HAD ON a red apron, the exact same shade of her lipstick. It was always rather comical how the woman made provisions to coordinate herself just so.
“Mom, why do you come over here and do this?” Lazarist chuckled as he sat down in his kitchen and watched his mother putz around, pulling out pots and pans, pretending as though she recalled where everything was from her last time pulling such a stunt. “I invite you over. I send a car to bring ya. I tell ya, ‘Mom, I’ve got dinner covered’ and then, you come over here with a big ass bag of food to cook up, your apron on, and the determination to treat me like a child! Why are ya doin’ this?!”
Smiling, Mom turned to his sink and transferred a bag of lettuce into a colander, then proceeded to wash it.
“You’ll always be my baby… you and your sister. Hey.” She shrugged. “This is what moms do. Besides, I missed ya.” She looked at him from over her shoulder, her mid-length salt and pepper hair hitting her shoulders just so.
“You’re beautiful, ya know that?”
She looked back over at him and stuck out her tongue.
“You always lay it on thick when you want something. What a manipulative son of a gun!”
“No, I’m serious!”
“Okay, what have ya done, boy?!”
“What?” He tossed up his hands and laughed. “I can’t pay my mother a compliment without havin’ a trick up my sleeve?”
“I dunno.” She giggled as she turned the water off and shook the bowl, forcing the water to drain out of the small holes. “You’ve been actin’ real strange lately, Laz.”
“How so?” He crossed his ankles and cocked his head to the side. He loved having her at his
home. Her energy felt good, even when she was going to sock it to him.
“Well, for one, you’ve been callin’ me more. Before, I’d get a call once a week if I was lucky and you were rushin’ me off the phone as soon as I’d say ‘hello.’”
“That’s not true!” He grinned, knowing damn well that it was.
“Like hell it’s not. Then, you’ve been smilin’ and laughin’ more. I mean, don’t get me wrong.” She set the colander down on the counter and turned to him, raising her leg a little to rest her foot on the cabinet under the basin. “You’ve always been silly, super silly, but this overkill.”
“So I get shit from ya if I don’t call enough, and now you’re sayin’ it’s like the body snatchers nabbed me because I’m treatin’ you like the queen that you are! Really, Mom?”
“Don’t play coy, Laz. You know what I’m talking about.” She walked over to his refrigerator and pulled out a stick of butter. “The flowers… I get enough flowers from ya to open a funeral home, but that slowed down and now, you send little notes and cookies… those tiny chocolate ones I like from the bakery. You know I love those cookies.” He nodded in agreement. She most certainly did love those cookies. Anything for Mom… “But those silly little poems and notes you’re writing? Hilarious!”
“Glad you like them.” He sat a bit straighter in his chair, proud of himself. She placed a small pot on an eye, unwrapped the stick of butter, and dropped it inside. Then, she turned and gave him a look as if she wanted to say something more, but instead she changed the topic.
“So, how’s work been treatin’ ya overall?”
“Good. Things are going great, actually. I, uh, I’ve been leaving on time lately, and getting more rest, too.”
The woman looked at him suspiciously.
“Let me tell you somethin’, Laz. You were always lazy, ya hear me?” She picked up a spatula and waved it in his direction. “If it didn’t come easy to you, you didn’t want to do it, but if you were really good at something, I mean, really, really good, then I would have to beg ya to stop, to slow down. You would pounce on it and never let up. That’s how I knew you owning this club was good for you. You’re passionate about it and you work very hard at it—and then what ends up happening is other things in your life get neglected. But…” She shrugged. “That’s just who ya are. I had to accept it. And how can we argue with success?”
