by Cydney Rax
Thad is picking me up, which is good so I can spend the maximum amount of time with him. He opens the door of his silver Aston Martin for me, and I feel like the old Thad is back. This is a show-off ride if there ever was one. The convertible top is down, and the breeze hitting my face feels good. But the rush of the wind is so loud that I don’t feel like competing against it in order to talk to Thad. And he’s not saying anything to me either, he just gives me occasional glances, and I make sure to smile at him every time he sees me looking at him.
When we end up at Morton’s in downtown, I say, “I thought we were going to P.F. Chang’s.”
“Is this not good enough for you, Demetria?” Thad asks. We get out of the car and head for the restaurant.
“It’s perfect, Thad. Anywhere I can be with you is perfect.”
Thad requests a booth in a semiprivate area. That leaves me confused, too. Usually he enjoys showing me off and likes to sit front and center, so all the other men in the restaurant can stare at us with envy. But maybe he has something else in mind, something that requires privacy. I know I do.
We sit, and I order a glass of Cabernet Sauvignon. I’m glad when it arrives; I know my nerves will soon be calmed.
“Thad, I have a question for you.”
“I have some for you, too.”
“Um, have you missed me?” He doesn’t say anything. “Because I sure have missed you.”
“What exactly have you missed?”
“You, babe, you. I miss hearing your voice. I miss you calling me Sweetness. I miss you spoiling me. I’ve been so miserable without you.”
“Are you positive about that?”
“Yes, baby, why wouldn’t I be positive?”
He just stares at me and quietly sips his wine.
“Most of all,” I tell him, “I’ve missed us making love. I miss touching your body, you touching mine. Oh, Thad, I hope we can work things out, because I’m going crazy without you in my life.”
“I see,” he says.
“Um, is that all you can say? You sound like you don’t believe me.”
“I am not sure what to believe.”
“Why not, baby? You need me to prove it to you?”
“Yep, prove it. Prove to me that I’m the most important man, the only man in your life. Prove to me that you’ve been faithful to me, that while I’m gone taking care of business, you’re doing what you’re supposed to be doing at home: holding on to your honor and giving me a good reason to rush back home to you.”
“I, I, uh.” I take a long, deep sip of wine. It impacts my brain immediately, and I feel like holding on to the table even though I’m sitting down. “All I can say is you’re all I want, honey bun. In spite of your questions, in spite of what you think, I want to be with you. And that’s final.”
I wait for him to respond, but he doesn’t.
My appetizer is shrimp cocktail, which is one of Thad’s favorites. I dip a huge piece of shrimp in the zesty sauce and lift it toward Thad’s mouth, but he shakes his head and munches on his jumbo crab cake.
“Well, I’m so happy we’re together tonight, babe,” I say. “I got three new outfits and two new bikinis with the money you gave me.”
“Good for you.”
“They’re for our cruise,” I say.
He continues munching on crab cake.
“Uh…you’re still going, aren’t you?” I ask sweetly.
“Oh, yeah, I’m going.”
I wait for him to continue talking. When he doesn’t, I can’t take it anymore.
“Look, Thad, I’m sorry, okay? I’m sorry for anything I’ve done that may have hurt you. But I don’t like how this meeting is going at all.”
“What do you expect, Demetria, for me to bow down to you so you can kick me in the teeth one more time? You’re fortunate I’m not spitting in your face right now.”
I pause. “What did you say?”
“It’s not what I say. It’s the things that you’ve said. Take a listen to this.”
Thad pulls a mini tape recorder from his jacket pocket. And I hear the sounds of me and Darren moaning and grunting while we make love.
“Oh, God, I love this, I love this shit,” a recording of my voice cries out. “You the best pussy-eating mofo I’ve ever had.”
“Cut it off, now!” I say, looking around to see if anyone heard.
“Isn’t that your voice, Demetria? Is that how you prove how much you love me? By spreading your legs wide open to anyone who wants to come in?”
I dump my face in my hands, unable to hold back the tears. If it weren’t for all the people sitting near us, I’m sure I’d start wailing. I’ve never felt so much humiliation, so much pain, in my life. And I can’t believe he’d set me up like this, taking me to a restaurant to do this. I calm down and wipe my face with the cloth napkin.
“Okay, fine. I’m busted. Was this in the plan all along? How long have you been spying on me, hiding tape recorders in my house, huh, Thad? You got cameras, too, you pervert?”
“Never think you can outsmart a rich and powerful man. Who knows, you might not see this Darren guy in one piece for too much longer. There’s a bayou somewhere with his name on it.”
“You wouldn’t dare.”
“Try me, you lying used-up whore.”
I grit my teeth. “Why would you do this? Why would you bring me all the way to this restaurant just to treat me like crap?”
“You, for some reason, don’t know how to take no for an answer. I figured you would get it if I pulled you up on a stage in front of a lot of people and showed you, instead of just telling you, that you are not good enough to be fucked by a lame dog.”
Somehow I calmly get up from the table. I remove the Dodge Nitro car keys from my key ring and toss them in Thad’s glass of wine. And I walk away from his hate-filled eyes. My legs feel like bricks are attached to them, and I have a long walk ahead of me, but that’s okay. Because if it takes me an hour to get away from this sorry son of a bitch, then let it happen. I’m out.
I walk four blocks in the airy Houston night and dial up Seaphes.
“Come get me, please. I know it’ll take you a while to get here, but I don’t care how long it takes. I need help. Now!”
It takes him half an hour to reach me, but when I get in his car, I know I feel much safer with Seaphes by my side. While waiting for him to arrive, at least ten men whistled or gave me creepy looks, and I’m so glad to be inside his car.
“You’re my boy, Seaphes,” I say, holding back tears. “When I call you, you don’t laugh at me, you don’t tell me to fuck off, and you’re there like Johnny on the spot. I don’t know how I can ever repay you, but I will. You’re a good man, yes, you are.”
“It’s okay, Demetria, damn, I can’t believe old boy would just leave you like that.”
“I left him, Seaphes. When I took a good, long look at him and listened to the filth coming out of his mouth, I knew I had to get away. He violated my privacy, and violated me. And then he was talking about some crazy shit. This is a side of him that I don’t know. And,” I say and take a deep breath, “it scared me. I couldn’t deal. And now, of course, I don’t have a ride anymore.”
“Why not?”
“He, uh, he paid the notes for the Nitro. And I gave my other car to my sister, so I’m screwed. I can’t believe my life has come to this.”
“Well, you can get another car.”
“How?”
“I’ll drive you to a dealer tomorrow on my lunch break. I’m sure your credit is good, you should qualify for something. You got a nice-paying job. Think positive, Demetria. You’ll be alright.”
I lean against him while he’s driving and cry out all the pain. When we pull up in front of my house, I’m too angry to move or think. But I let him open my door, and he walks me in.
When we’re safely inside, he makes me promise to call him if anything strange goes down. “Don’t try to talk to him alone, Demetria. You’re strong but never be stupid. Cal
l me, call the police, keep your doors locked, and don’t ever talk to or meet this Thad guy again, you hear me?”
I nod.
“Don’t nod. Answer me, Demetria.”
“Yes, Seaphes, yes, I promise I’m through with him for good. I just want this nightmare to be over.”
“It’s a hard bump in the road, but that’s all it is, a bump. You have too much to offer to let this guy bring you down.”
“Yeah, I do, don’t I?” I sniff. “I just need something to take my mind off all this.”
“I have an idea,” Seaphes says. “I’m gonna throw a party. It’s called a Conversations Party. I’ll invite men and women, and we’ll play games, drink, eat, and just chill out. Don’t worry. We’re going to have fun and learn things about the opposite sex. I’ll create an Evite and hook this thing up for you.”
“Perfect! That’s why I love you.”
“You love me?”
“In a brotherly way, silly. Wipe that stupid grin off your face. You know, come to think of it, I’m sure Vee is wondering where you are.”
“I called her. I-I didn’t know what to tell her. I know she worries. I just said a friend was in trouble, and I was helping that person out.”
“You called me ‘that person’? That sounds so secretive. She’ll be suspicious.”
Seaphes just sighs.
I won’t let him go until he helps me find the little microphone Thad planted in my house. After he leaves, I smash it to bits.
The next morning, I call in sick and am eager to go back to sleep, but before I can settle in Darren calls.
“How you doing?” he asks in his honey-sounding voice.
“Not so good.”
“Oh, yeah, baby? What’s wrong? Anything I can do?”
I think for a minute. “I doubt it, Darren. But thanks for the offer.”
“Why won’t you let me help you, girl?”
“Oh, Darren, if only you understood.” I explain that I am at home because I’m not feeling well, and I need to be by myself so I can heal.
“You home alone? What you need? Name it. I’ll be there in a second.”
“Okay.” I laugh weakly. “I need a massage, and I’m hungry for some cold, sweet watermelon, like the kind my family would eat when I was a kid.”
“I’m on my way.”
And sure enough, within an hour, my doorbell rings. I quickly whisk Darren inside, feeling paranoid about Thad’s threats. I give him an extra tight hug and am so happy that he spends the next hour with me, rubbing my back and sore neck, feeding me fresh slices of sweet watermelon, and touching up my pedicure before giving me a long, passionate kiss good-bye.
I have time to take a nap before Seaphes comes to get me shortly after twelve. He drives me to a leasing agency on the north side and recommends that I lease a Toyota Prius hybrid. I pick out a red touring car that includes snazzy wheels and a nice little spoiler; we test-drive the car and poke around under the hood as if we know what we’re doing, and we close the deal a couple hours later. I follow behind him and drive the new car back home.
“Veron and I set up the Evite for the party,” he says. “Next weekend at my place. It’ll be fun, and you’ll learn some things in the process.”
“I sure hope so. I can use all the help I can get.”
When the weekend arrives, we’re at the party, comfortably gathered in Seaphes’s living room.
The movie Waiting to Exhale is looping on the DVD with the sound down. The men are sitting on one side of the room: Seaphes, Percy Jones, Michael West, and a few of Seaphes’s other male friends. The ladies include me, Vee, Ursula Phillips, Fonya and Tweetie from the book club, and a church friend of Tweetie’s named Riley Dobson.
Vee and Ursula have been commissioned to serve the food. I guess I was voted out on that task. But it’s cool, because the thing I get to do is much more exciting than pouring drinks and passing around trays of finger sandwiches. While Veron gets to play official hostess for this party, I get to MC the game and ask some of the initial questions.
When people arrived at the party, they were asked to write down the questions they had thought up before coming on a sheet of paper—it could be whatever topic they chose. I inserted them all inside a cardboard-covered box. And now that we’re all settled, I stand in the center of the room and begin.
“Hey, everyone,” I say. “Thanks for making it out on such short notice to the Conversations Party. I’ve never done this before, but when our host explained how it works, I was all in. Okay, someone will pull a question from the box, and we all have to give an answer, no matter what. You guys knew the deal, so you showing up means you need to participate! The object of the game is to stimulate conversation, learn something about each other that we didn’t know before, and perhaps find out something new about ourselves, too. Now, I sure enough hope your questions are juicy, because we wanna get down and dirty up in here. Can I get an ‘Amen’?”
“Amen,” Riley says and claps her hands. Everyone else joins in with the applause as I raise the box to the sky, then reach inside in the rectangle hole and retrieve the first question.
“Question number one. Where were you born? Borrring. Who wrote this? Just kidding. Let’s stick to the rules, go around the room and everyone respond or comment on the question.”
Mike says, “H-town! Born and raised in Third Ward.”
Percy replies, “What he said.”
“You weren’t born in Third Ward.” Ursula laughs.
“How you know? Did you see me come out my momma? I doubt it, ’cause I’m younger than you, baby,” Percy says, pouting.
“Shhh,” Ursula says. “Percy, be quiet about my age.”
“Sounds personal. Let’s keep things moving here,” I speak up.
Seaphes raises his hands, “Houston. Northwest side near good old George Bush Airport. But back then it was called just Intercontinental.”
We go around the circle, and everyone says where they were born.
“Okay,” I say, “can we get to the good part? Let me pull another question. This one better be good. Question number two: Have you ever smoked weed?” I laugh. “Okay, I can answer that. Uh…hmmm.”
“Go on, host,” Percy says, “don’t be scared.”
“Shut up, Percy,” I say jokingly. “Okay, when I was in college visiting my study partner one night, he convinced me to try it. But I never inhaled.”
“Thank you, Bill Clinton,” Fonya says loudly. “Lemme answer that. I been smoking weed since I was seven years old. My favorite uncle gave me a joint for my birthday, and I been flying high ever since.”
“That’s so sad,” murmurs Riley. “I haven’t smoked weed or anything else.”
“Tell the truth, girlfriend,” Tweetie says and playfully shoves Riley.
“Oh, don’t worry. I plan to be truthful; this just isn’t a question that’s going to trip me up.”
“Well,” I say, “we shall find one especially for you, Miss Riley.”
Everyone answers the weed question. The responses are split fifty-fifty.
“Hey, Vee,” I say, “why don’t you pull the next one?”
She reaches inside and begins reading. “Which celebrity would you marry and which one would you sleep with?”
Everyone laughs. Mike speaks up, “Easy. Beyoncé and Beyoncé.”
All the guys nod their heads, and I put my hands on my hips. “Beyoncé wouldn’t want any of y’all, so keep dreaming. Okay, Vee, you wanna answer that one?”
“Hmmm,” she says. “I’d want to sleep with Terrence Howard. He is so fine and sensual, and it seems like we’d be under the covers making love all night plus talking about some deep intellectual stuff.”
“He does seem like that type, huh?” Fonya says.
“But as far as marriage,” Vee continues, “I read on the Internet that he cheats on his wife. So Mr. T. Howard is good enough to sleep with, but he would never be the father of our kids.”
“Miss Priss,” Percy says, rolling his
neck around. “Well, I would sleep with Angelina Jolie, wooo-eee.”
“In your dreams, baby,” I say, laughing.
“Don’t be calling him ‘baby’,” Ursula suddenly snaps. There’s silence for a minute.
“It’s cool, Ursula. You and Percy got something going on?” I ask.
“If we did, I wouldn’t tell you,” she says angrily.
Everybody is still totally silent. “Ursula, are you okay?” I ask.
She doesn’t say anything.
“Ursula, I asked if you were okay.”
“I heard you the first time.”
Seaphes stands up, “Alright now, I think we should take a short break. It’s getting hot in here. Uh, you’re welcome to go get some more drinks and sandwiches. And I have some caviar dip made up if you have a taste for something salty. Back in five?”
Seaphes walks over to me. “Thanks, Demetria, you’re doing a good job.”
“Well, that won’t last if Ursula keeps copping her funky attitude. I can’t believe you invited her. I thought y’all two mixed like Jennifer Aniston and Angelina.”
“I thought she’d cooled down. Surprisingly, Ursula’s been real cordial to me the past week and a half.”
“Hello? It’s probably because she heard about your party and wanted an invite. Who told her about the party, anyway? ’Cause I sure didn’t.”
“Probably Veron.”
“Veron?” I ask, puzzled. “She specifically told me that she couldn’t stand that woman. Now why is she playing games like that?”
“I have no idea,” Seaphes says, and walks away when one of his friends asks him a question.
“Well, I sure plan on finding out,” I say, and wait for everyone to come back from the break.
—40—
VERON
“Damn, girlfriend,” Ursula says. We’re huddling in the kitchen during the break in the game. “You see the look on that ho’s face when I called her to the carpet? She ain’t about nothing. Thinks she’s running things and always gotta be the center of attention. I’m sick of her phony mess,” Ursula says.
