Never Trust a Stranger

by Mary Monroe

  Lola cut me off with a dismissive wave. “Stop tripping. You know what I mean.”

  I nodded. “Yeah, I think I do. He was the fantasy you hoped for, right?”

  “And then some. Girl, Calvin is everything I want in a man. The fact that he has a lot of sympathy for Bertha, and admiration for me still taking care of her, tells me she’d even like him.”

  “Do you think she’d like him more than that dickless choir director you’ve been dragging along with lately who shares a house with his mama?”

  “What’s wrong with you, Joan? You know better. Elbert Porter is just a friend and . . . and . . . that’s all he’ll ever be to me.” I noticed the hesitation and uncertainty in my homegirl’s voice, and it puzzled me. I decided not to mention it for the time being.

  “Well, Elbert is good-looking, and almost everybody I know buys most of their meat from the market he owns, so I know he’s got a nice bank account. Besides, he suits Bertha—which is something nobody can say about any of your other men. Elbert is everything she wants in a man, or maybe I should say son-in-law.”

  “I don’t love Elbert.” Lola stopped talking, glanced around, and then looked me straight in the eye. Her lips barely moved as she told me, “Joan, don’t laugh and please don’t tease me, but I think I’m in love with Calvin. After our brief hookup on Tuesday, he actually drove behind me all the way to my street because I told him I didn’t like to be on the road by myself in the dark. Yesterday, he was even sweeter. And the sex was better than it was the first time. I love him twice as much now.”

  As giddy as she had been acting over this man, I had been expecting her to tell me something like this anyway. “Oh? How do you know it’s not just a crush?”

  “I know the difference between a crush and real love. I’ve had a ‘crush’ on Denzel Washington since I was a teenager. Well, I’m a mature woman now, and I know what love feels like.”

  “Uh-huh. My next question is, do you ‘think’ Calvin is in love with you?”

  “Joan, I wish you’d be more supportive of—”

  I had to interrupt Lola in the middle of her sentence. “I asked you a reasonable question, and I am being supportive. You say Calvin is everything you want in a man. Do you think you’re everything he wants in a woman?”

  She hunched her shoulders and gave me a weary look. “I hope to find out real soon. He did say that he wanted to see me again, so that means there is some hope. He even called me up when he got home to tell me how much he’d enjoyed my company.”

  I shook my head and gave Lola a pitiful look. “Is that all you have to go on? He was a good fuck and he wants to see you again? Honey, the man picks women to sleep with through an online sex club! That’s how he picked you!”

  Lola gasped so hard, a hiccup followed. “Look who’s talking! I can’t believe what you just said! How is Calvin any different from your Mr. LongJohn Walden?”

  I kept my lips pressed together because I was afraid my jaw would drop open low enough to hit the table. I rubbed the side of my face and blinked rapidly several times and then I locked eyes with her. “You leave John out of this! For one thing, he is a married man. He has made it clear that he will never leave his wife, so I will never be anything more to him than a piece of tail. How do you know that’s not all you are to Calvin? If he is looking for a wife, do you honestly think he’d pick a woman like you?”

  Lola gasped again. This time her eyes got big and her nostrils flared. The puppy-dog look that suddenly appeared on her face was so profound, I thought she was about to start barking. Instead, she spoke in such a low and gentle tone I could barely hear her. “A woman like me?” she wheezed. A split second later, her voice turned on a dime and she snarled, “What the F do you mean by that?”

  Before I could respond, our server approached with our orders. She took her time arranging our plates and saucers on the table. We remained silent until we were alone again. Lola immediately gobbled up a few fries and bit off a huge chunk of her burger. “You know damn well what I mean. Answer my question, please,” I ordered gruffly.

  “Which one?” she snarled after she had swallowed her food.

  I softened the look on my face and the tone of my voice. “Never mind, I guess.” I started eating my fries, but I’d lost my appetite. “Hey, listen. I know it sounds like I’m giving you a hard time—”

  “Sounds like? Joan, I know I make fun of you and some of your men, and I’m sorry. I’ll watch what I say from now on. And I wish you would do the same for me.” Lola gave me a pleading look. “Now, if you don’t mind, let’s change the subject.” She sniffed and promptly resumed her end of the conversation. “What else is up with Long—uh, I mean, John?”

  At the end of the day, no matter what she said or thought about being “in love” with a sex club member, I thought it was crazy. I didn’t want to tell her that, because I figured she’d find out soon enough. My relationships with club members were just as outlandish as Lola’s, and just as dead end. The only exception was John Walden. I had no choice but to refuse his repeated requests to be his mistress . . . for now.

  “You want to talk about John some more?”

  “Why not? If you ask me, he’s as interesting to discuss as Calvin.”

  “Oh well. What the hell,” I heaved. I was glad Lola laughed along with me. “You know something, if John’s wife died or up and left him and he wanted to marry me, I just might do it.”

  “Uh-uh.” Lola shook her head and wagged a finger in my face. “Not as long as Reed is still breathing down your neck. By the way, how has he been acting since you got back?” I was glad that Lola was now speaking in a more pleasant tone. And she seemed to be in a much more jovial mood. There was a mischievous gleam in her eyes and a smile threatening to form on her lips. “We haven’t roasted him much lately.”

  “Same old same old,” I said with a very heavy sigh. “I’d rather not talk about him right now,” I added with my voice cracking. “It’s too depressing.”

  “Can you at least tell me if he’s still in the good mood he was in before you went to Phoenix?”

  I gave Lola a thoughtful look and shrugged. “When I told him that I’d like to go off somewhere by myself more often, and for a longer period of time, you would have thought I’d just told him I had a terminal illness. He asked me point-blank if the reason was so I could sleep with other men. He’s got this notion that all married women who go away without their husbands pick up strangers and sleep with them.”

  Lola gave me a guarded look. “He’s probably right. You didn’t pick up a stranger, but you did sleep with another man. It seems like the more things change for you, the more they stay the same.”

  “You got that right. The last time I was online, I noticed a couple of new club members I’d like to get to know.” I paused and lifted another fry, waving it in the air like a magic wand. “You know, I think we both need to keep ‘getting’ while the getting is still good.”

  “What do you mean by that?”

  “Well, if you and Calvin get serious about one another, I know you won’t want to stay in the club.”

  Lola nodded. “You’re right about that. Calvin is more than enough man for me. What about you? Do you think things will ever get better between you and Reed so you won’t want to stay in the club either?”

  “I hope so, Lola. I hope so.”

  Chapter 55

  Joan

  I HAD NOT BEEN HOME EVEN TWENTY-FOUR HOURS BEFORE I WAS ready to scream again. Reed’s euphoria had ended and he was once again as moody and suspicious as ever.

  “Joan, I hope your little vacation helped in bringing you back to your senses,” he began. It was Monday morning and Junior had just left for school. Reed was still at the breakfast table nursing his third cup of coffee. I sat across from him, making out a grocery list.

  “What do you mean?” I asked sharply.

  “I allowed you to go away on your own so you could pull yourself together. Now that that’s done, we need to move for
ward with our lives. But now you seem even more distant and distracted than before.”

  Bile rose in my throat, and I had to hold my breath to keep from puking. I dropped the pen I had been writing with onto the table and shot Reed a hot look. “Let’s get one thing straight now. You didn’t allow me to do anything. You’re my husband, not my father,” I hissed.

  “I’m only trying to—”

  “Trying to drive me crazy is what you’re ‘trying’ to do!” I interrupted, shaking my finger in his face. “And after all that talk about how you want me to be happy.”

  “I do want you to be happy!”

  “Then make me know it! I enjoyed going away by myself. I need to do more things like that so I can feel a little more independent.” I paused and softened my voice. “I’ve even been thinking about getting a job—”

  This time he cut me off. “A job? Woman, you don’t need to work. I told you before we got married that you’d never have to work a day in your life.”

  “I get bored sitting around here looking at the walls all day, every day. I need to interact with people more. I need something to get me out of the house on a regular basis.”

  “What about that book club you belong to?”

  “Huh?”

  “Just last week you spent three hours with them discussing the latest book by Mary B. Morrison, whoever the hell she is.”

  I had almost forgotten about the bogus book club I told Reed I had joined. I wasted no time doing some damage control. “Oh! The book club! Well, this book club gets together only once or twice a month. I need to find something to do that’ll get me out of the house more often than that.”

  “More often? Pffft! What about that disabled Liza Mae Ford woman you and Lola help out? That and your beauty shop visits, shopping, hanging out with Lola and your family, and now book club meetings—I think you already get out of the house on a regular basis.”

  “That’s not enough. I want to get a job.”

  “Fine. Get a job if that’s what it takes to make you feel more ‘independent.’ ” Reed waved his hands in the air. I didn’t like the exasperated look on his face and I didn’t like what he said next. “My receptionist is getting married in a few weeks and she’ll be moving to Sacramento. She gave her two weeks’ notice last Monday, so I’ve been interviewing applicants from an employment agency. So far they’ve sent nothing but dingbats, sea hags, and grandmotherly frumps. You can fill in until we find a replacement. If you like it, you can stay on as long as you want.”

  The thought of working with Reed made my skin crawl. Having to spend time with him at home seven days a week was bad enough. The last thing I wanted to do was work with him in the same office five days a week too!

  “Reed, I don’t want to be anybody’s receptionist. Every person I know who works in an office hates it. I was thinking of something that would be more fun, like waiting tables. Booker’s Barbecue is looking for help.”

  Reed gulped and looked at me as if I was speaking Arabic. “Waiting tables?” The way he said the two words, with his lips twisted and a look of disbelief on his face, you would have thought I’d said I wanted to perform in a porn movie. He narrowed his eyes and glared at me. “You want to be a waitress?”

  “Yes, I do! I think I’d like to be a waitress at Booker’s. Their business is booming, and I heard that some days his waitresses make over a hundred dollars in tips.”

  “Bookers?” he growled. This time his eyes got as big as golf balls. “You want to work in that greasy rib joint in the heart of the ghetto? Have you lost your mind, woman? That place is thug city! For one thing, you don’t need the money, so I don’t care if his waitresses make a thousand dollars a day in tips. I’d rather see you working on a chain gang! When I was in that hellhole last week, two low-life creatures were flirting with their server and she didn’t look half as good as you!”

  “When men flirt with me, I let them know right away that I’m a happily married woman.” I couldn’t believe I could tell such an outrageous lie with a straight face.

  “That doesn’t matter! Thugs don’t care if a woman is married or interested in them or not! They take what they want! A woman as pretty as you would get raped every day in that fucked-up jungle of a neighborhood!”

  “I can take care of myself, Reed. I grew up around thugs but I never got raped until that night . . . you know what you did to me.”

  “Joan, you know how sorry I am about what I did to you that night. I’ve prayed about it, and I’m convinced God will keep me on the straight and narrow from now on. All I want is for you to be happy.”

  “I’m sure I’d be very happy working for Booker Watson. Too Sweet used to do his wife’s hair, and I went to school with two of his daughters. His youngest daughter and I were born on the same day. We celebrated our sweet sixteenth birthday together, so the Watsons are like family to me.”

  “No—HELL NO!” Reed hit the table with his fist so hard, the salt and pepper shakers fell over. “You being a waitress is absolutely out of the question. I won’t allow it. Can you imagine how something like that would upset my family? And what would I say to my colleagues during social gatherings? Dr. Kline’s wife is a newspaper reporter. Dr. Maitland’s wife is a pediatrician. What would they think of me if I told them my wife worked as a waitress in a rib joint in the ghetto?” The mocking tone in his voice made me wince. “That’s one notion you need to get out of your head right now!”

  “You can’t tell me what to do and what not to do. I am not going to put up with you controlling me, Reed. You know me better than that.”

  “I know Lola put this idea of working in your head. I never wanted to say this, but I’m saying it now. That woman is a bad influence! I wish somebody would marry that heifer and keep her pregnant so she can stop dragging you down with her!”

  I chuckled.

  “Tell me what’s so funny,” Reed demanded.

  “You might not have to worry about her for long.”

  “Why not? Is she moving to another state or something?”

  “There’s a new man in her life and she thinks she wants to marry him. If she does, I’m sure you’d like to dance at her wedding.”

  “Humph. I’d rather dance at her funeral . . .”

  My heart almost stopped beating and a lump formed in my throat. Reed’s morbid comment stunned me and made me feel unbearably sad. I never expected him to say something so callous about someone who meant so much to me. “Reed, that’s the meanest thing I’ve ever heard you say about another human being. Lola is my best friend. If something happened to her, I don’t think I could go on.”

  “I know that feeling,” he said with a mournful look on his face, and that didn’t surprise me. He cleared his throat and stood up. “I’m sorry, Joan. I shouldn’t have said that about Lola. You know I’m not a mean person. I like her and I want her to be happy too. Who is this man?”

  “His name is Calvin Ramsey. He lives in San Jose, but I haven’t met him yet.”

  “What does he do for a living?”

  “He’s a long-haul truck driver.”

  “That figures. And where did Lola meet this truck driver?”

  “I’m not sure. I think she met him at a party a few months ago.”

  “Well, a few months is not enough time to get to know a person. We both know that, now, don’t we?”

  I stared at Reed. I wanted to slap that smug look off his face. “You didn’t have to marry me.”

  “But I wanted to marry you. And I’m going to stay married to you.” What he said next made me sick to my stomach. “’Til death do us part. . . .”

  Chapter 56

  Lola

  “YOU SURE ARE IN A CHEERFUL MOOD THIS EVENING,” LIBBY began when I walked in the front door humming Rihanna’s “Umbrella,” which was one of my favorite old tunes.

  I had just returned from my dinner with Joan. Bertha was in the kitchen banging pots and pans together. Jeffrey and Kevin were outside in the driveway fixing a flat tire on Kevin
’s bike. Libby claimed her usual spot on the living-room couch. She had a bottle of beer in one hand and her smartphone in the other. I gently eased down on the love seat facing her. “Is there something wrong with a person being in a good mood?” I asked, not sounding as sarcastic as I normally would have.

  “It is when the person is you,” she sneered, and then snickered.

  For the first time in my life, I smiled at her and was sincere about it. Since she’d told me the real reason she was so nasty to me, I didn’t resent her presence so much now. And even though she still said mean and stupid things to me, it was not nearly as offensive as before. I was mildly convinced that there was a chance we could eventually become real friends and behave more like sisters. It was a pleasant thought. And it was all because I had caught her with another man. That and Calvin. He had already changed me in ways I never imagined.

  But even if my relationship with Libby did improve, I still planned to feed her with a long-handled spoon. She was such an oddball, I would never be able to determine when she was being serious or only trying to get a rise out of me. Some of the stuff she said was meant to be funny, and sometimes I laughed along with her. I didn’t feel like laughing this time. I should have ignored her, but I couldn’t. “Well, if you really must know, I’m in love,” I announced. I didn’t realize Bertha was listening until she shuffled into the living room, wiping her hands on her apron.

  “You’re in love, Lola? Already? You don’t even spend that much time with Elbert!” Bertha yelled. “My goodness,” she added with a grin. “Hmmm. And the last couple of times he dropped by when you were out, he was happy to spend a few hours with me. He’s such a sweet and innocent man.”

  “Bertha, Elbert and I are just friends. That’s all we’ve ever been and that’s all we’ll ever be,” I clarified. I decided that the sooner I made it clear that “sweet and innocent” Elbert was not a potential husband for me, the better. “He’s getting real pushy about us spending more time together. I don’t want him to get his hopes up, so I’m not sure I’m going to continue going out with him.” And I decided that the sooner I revealed my “relationship” with Calvin, also the better. I couldn’t wait to see Bertha’s reaction when she met and got to know him and heard from him how he “encouraged” me to continue taking care of her even after I got married. “I’m in love with a man named Calvin Ramsey.” For me to be a woman in my thirties, and one with common sense, I was surprised that I seriously thought I had a future with Calvin. Especially when I didn’t even know if I’d ever hear from him again.