All the Things I Meant to Tell You

by Tiffany L. Warren

  I smiled. “Yes. This place is my favorite. Their sushi is incredible.”

  I plucked the little sushi order form and pencil out of its cradle on the table. I placed little x’s next to all of the rolls I wanted us to try. There was way too much food on the order for us to finish here, but maybe we could finish it later.

  “You made this sushi dinner sound like an emergency,” DeAndre said. “Is everything okay? Or did you just want to see me?”

  “It is an emergency. I woke up this morning thinking about you. About our date. I think I even dreamed about you, but I couldn’t remember once the brain fog cleared.”

  “Humph. That does sound like an emergency. I looked for you at the gym and was kinda disappointed that you weren’t there.”

  “I had a seven o’clock appointment this morning. Actor with an early flight. Her veneers had loosened on the bottom.”

  DeAndre poured himself a glass of wine and took a sip of it.

  “That’s good,” he said.

  “I know. I was on my way to killing the whole thing if you hadn’t showed up.”

  “There’s no way I wouldn’t show up. I feel so lucky that I met you. I was tripping this morning thinking I said or did something to mess it up. I was kicking myself for telling you about all my failed relationships.”

  I marveled about how someone as fine as DeAndre could feel insecure about messing up a first date. I mean I got it that good men and women were far and few between, but he had nothing to worry about. Not with me.

  “No, that was great. It felt like you really wanted me to know you.”

  “I did. I want to know you too, but I can tell that you don’t want to move too quickly.”

  “Moving quickly doesn’t bother me like it used to. Sometimes you just know. It’s not like we’re in our twenties.”

  “Word.”

  I held the sushi order form up for our server to see that I’d made our selections. She came over, took the paper from me and gave a little bow before she backed away from the table.

  “Their ramen is good too, if you’d like some,” I said.

  “I’d only eat ramen for lunch, not dinner. The liquid and noodles leave me a little bloated afterwards. I especially wouldn’t eat that on a date.”

  “Not if you wanted to get some action later?”

  DeAndre laughed. “Exactly right. Always have to leave my options open for that.”

  “I have a funny story about that.”

  “Please tell.”

  “So, I was on a date with this guy. He was so hot, and we had made out a couple of times. I was ready to take it to the next level.”

  “I like this story already,” DeAndre said.

  “Well, we went out and I had an ice cream sundae. I was young and at the time I had no idea that my body had decided to become lactose intolerant.”

  “Oh shit.”

  “Exactly. We got back to his place, and he started kissing on me and I was getting into it. Kissing him back.”

  “You’re building the dread here. All I can think about is that ice cream you ate.”

  “Right. My stomach started bubbling like crazy.”

  “Please tell me you made it to the bathroom.”

  “I did, but barely. When I tell you, my ass exploded on this man’s toilet.”

  DeAndre burst into laughter. “Oh my god. Was it loud?”

  “Sounded like a machine gun.”

  DeAndre had tears in his eyes from laughing so hard. “W-what did you do when you came back out?”

  “Wait! First, I didn’t want to leave his whole situation splashed and splattered, so I was looking all over the bathroom for cleaning supplies.”

  “He ain’t have none.”

  “I mean not a one! Then I panicked and started wondering if the toilet had ever been cleaned and what had I sat my ass down on in the first place.”

  “At this point, nobody’s getting none.”

  “Hell naw. That explosion required me to sit in a bathtub or hot shower for an hour before I’d feel comfortable.”

  “So, what did you do? Did you come out of the bathroom?”

  “Not for a long, long time. I kept flushing trying to get rid of some of the splatters.”

  DeAndre howled so loudly that other patrons started looking at us. I giggled at how tickled he was.

  “I was legit contemplating my life choices in there,” I continued. “Then, he knocked on the door.”

  “W-what did you say?”

  Now, I was laughing as hard as he was. I couldn’t help it.

  “I was like, w-who is it?”

  We deteriorated into uncontrollable and loud laughter. We both had tears pouring down our faces. DeAndre took his glasses off and set them on the table, so he could wipe his face with the cloth napkin.

  “He just stood outside the door for a few minutes, and I didn’t say anything else,” I continued. “After awhile I heard him in another room on his telephone. He sounded like he was talking to another girl.”

  “I guess he just decided that yo ass wasn’t shit. Or was shit?” DeAndre laughed some more.

  “Listen. I opened that door so quietly, grabbed my purse, and snuck out of his apartment.”

  “How did you get home.”

  “I. Walked.”

  DeAndre tried to calm himself down by drinking more wine. His laughter quieted to a chuckle or two between breaths.

  “He never called me again. I didn’t call him either,” I said. “He was fine too. Oh well, it was ruined.”

  “Twila, I’m not sure that was an appropriate dinner story, but I needed that laugh.”

  “I am never appropriate. And I do mean never. I think that might be one of my tragic flaws.”

  “One of them?”

  “Yeah. The other one is I’m always finding broken things and turning them into a project. Friends, men . . .”

  “Teeth. You fix people’s mouths.”

  “Exactly.”

  “I think our biggest flaws are only flaws when they’re taken out of context.”

  “The last dude I dated was broken, and I’ll tell you what, it was definitely the wrong context. My friends had to come move him out of my house when he decided he was going to lay up with a chick in my bedroom.”

  “He couldn’t even take the girl to his own crib?”

  “Man, what crib?”

  “Oh, yeah he was broken broken.”

  “Mmm hmmm.”

  “I already told you my biggest flaw. My serial monogamy. It’s only a flaw with the wrong person. That’s why I still believe in falling in love.”

  I smiled at him. “I want to believe in it. My two best friends seem to have found it.”

  “You will too.”

  “You’re sure about that?”

  “You’re too perfect not to.”

  “Thank you.”

  I rested back in my chair and gazed at this man. I knew he wasn’t a mirage because other people could see and hear him too, but he damn near seemed like one. The pieces had never fallen together for me this way, and it scared me.

  DeAndre slid his glasses back onto his face. Superman became Clark Kent again. He was still fine. I wanted to sex them both.

  * * *

  We both felt the pheromone rush or chemistry or whatever because we’d taken the sushi to go. DeAndre offered to drive and bring me to pick up my car later, but I told him I was fine to follow him back to his place. I really needed to make a phone call first.

  I called Hahna first. She answered on the first ring.

  “Twila? You had me worried. You coming home tonight?”

  “Maybe. Hold on. Let me get Kimberly on the line too.”

  Kimberly took a few rings to answer. I hoped she wasn’t laid up with Ron. Who was I kidding, she probably was.

  “This better be good heffa,” Kimberly said as she answered the phone. She sounded out of breath.

  “It is. Take a water break and tell Ron you be right back with your nasty self.”
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  “Girl!”

  “Hold on. Let me click Hahna on.”

  “Both of y’all there?” I asked.

  “Yes, I’m here,” Hahna said.

  Kimberly sucked her teeth. “Hurry up.”

  I laughed. “Okay, girl. I’m gone let you get back to that python you over there wrangling, ’cause I think I’m bout to wrangle one of my own.”

  “Who? DeAndre?” Hahna asked.

  “Yep.”

  “Ooh, that fine ass lawyer that works in Hahna’s building? I didn’t know you were seeing him.”

  “That’s ’cause you been missing in action. Picking out flowers and shit,” I said. “He’s incredible y’all, and I need some.”

  “Do you have condoms?” Hahna asked.

  “Yeah, I picked up some on the way to the restaurant.”

  “A prepared ho. I love it,” Kimberly said.

  “Anyway. Neither one of y’all gonna try to talk me out of it?”

  There was silence on the line.

  “Hello?” I called.

  “Do you want to be talked out of it?” Hahna asked. “Because I wouldn’t. His abdominals are crazy.”

  “Girl, I can’t wait to lick them.”

  “I mean, I can’t really, in good conscience tell you not to get yours,” Kimberly said. “Not when I’m over here sweating out this good silk press.”

  “Well, I just wanted y’all to know where I am. Hahna did a background check on him, so I’m not worried.”

  “Yeah. Have fun. If you want to be talked out of it, we can get Samantha on the line.”

  I laughed. “I think I have a bad connection. Must be bad reception over here . . .”

  I disconnected the call and kept laughing. It seemed like it was taking forever to get to Duluth, so I turned on music. Then, my phone buzzed. It was DeAndre. I put him on the Bluetooth speaker.

  “Hey, I just wanted to hear your voice some more,” he said.

  “I thought I just talked your ear off.”

  “You didn’t. Your voice is sexy. Your laugh is too.”

  I responded to that with a laugh. “I don’t know if anyone has ever said that to me. My laugh is super loud.”

  “It’s sexy, because you sound like you’re really having fun. It’s a I don’t give a fuck laugh.”

  “I can see that.”

  “We’ll be at my house in a couple minutes, and I want you to know a few things.”

  Something about how he said this raised alarm.

  “What?” I asked.

  “I have a full bathroom downstairs and upstairs. Both have full cleaning supplies under the sink. There’s also towels and body wash if you should have an unfortunate occurrence. I don’t care if your ass explodes. I still want you.”

  I hollered. “My ass is just fine, thank you.”

  “Also, I don’t want you to feel like it’s a foregone conclusion that we’re going to have sex. If you change your mind at any time, I’m fine with waiting. Just let me know you’re not feeling it, and we can stop.”

  “You trying to talk me out of it?”

  “Not at all. You’re worth it, tonight or the next night.”

  And that was the sexiest thing he could say to me. Again, he was perfect without even trying. I wished I could’ve met him earlier in life. The flawed version of him. Because he hadn’t started out perfect. A man who knew exactly what to say and do had made his share of mistakes. But so had I.

  One thing he clearly had done right was purchase real estate. I gasped with appreciation at the mini mansion we pulled up to. He opened his three-car garage and parked his car. There was a spot available for me, and another spot that held a Lamborghini. I knew he was a lawyer and that he did well, but Atlanta had so many smoke and mirrors folk, it was hard to know who really had a buck and who didn’t.

  DeAndre had the house, the cars and the private practice complete with clients. He was much more than smoke and mirrors.

  “Dammit, I bet he has a little penis,” I said to the inside of my car.

  That had to be it. A man with all of this, and who loved love, and who looked the way DeAndre looked would be locked down by somebody. He wouldn’t have made it to his forties without being married and without a woman popping out his pretty little chocolate babies.

  Well, if nothing else, this would be a good story to tell on a girl’s night over wine and popcorn.

  DeAndre closed the garage doors, and I took my spend the night bag out of the trunk while he grabbed the sushi. He looked at the bag and laughed.

  “Oh, you’re prepared, huh?”

  “Not prepared as much as hopeful.”

  “You didn’t have to be hopeful. All you had to do was say the word.”

  DeAndre pulled me close to him with his free arm. He bent down as I stood on my tiptoes. His lips were warm and soft, and his breath still tasted like wine. His kiss was intoxicating and the swell that I felt in his pants wasn’t small. It felt just right. I wanted to stroke it to make sure, but I restrained myself. Hungrily kissed him back instead. His groan told me he was as famished as I was.

  He held my hand as he led me inside. The first thing I noticed was that it smelled clean. Like essential oils and cleaning supplies. I felt myself relax. Had I found a man obsessed with a clean house like I was? Oh, my goodness. I could’ve proposed to him that night.

  He turned on a light and the house was immaculate. I shuddered.

  “Your house is so . . . so clean,” I said. “Let me touch you. You can’t be real.”

  DeAndre laughed. “I like things neat, but I’m not this good. The housekeeper was here today.”

  “Even better.”

  I pulled his face to mine and kissed him again. I had to keep the physical connection before he floated away like the mirage that he had to be.

  He set the bag on a table, so that he could pull me closer with both his hands. He gripped my waist in a way that felt gentle yet assertive at the same time. I wanted to feel his fingers on my skin, and not through fabric. Suddenly, I felt impatient for the full meal and this felt like an appetizer.

  “May I use your bathroom?”

  “Yes, it’s right down that hall. First door on the right.”

  I took care of my business in the bathroom including freshening up and changing my panties. I swapped out the regular all-day long bikini briefs for a red thong that matched the red bra I was wearing.

  I left the bag in the bathroom and walked back into the dining room where DeAndre had dinner on plates. One place setting was at the head of the table and the other at the seat to right of it. He’d even taken out chopsticks.

  “Hungry? I popped a piece in my mouth while I was setting up,” DeAndre said. “It’s so good.”

  “I am starving.”

  I sat down at the place he’d set for me, and he sat too. We ate in silence.

  “Why does it always get awkward when you know at some point in the evening, you’re going to have sex for the first time?” I asked. “We were about to get kicked out of the restaurant for laughing, but now we’re silent.”

  “I think because you get turned on, and you start fantasizing about how good it’s going to be, and then you let your mind create a bunch of scenarios of what could go wrong.”

  “That is exactly right.”

  “So, stop thinking about it and enjoy the sushi and the wine.”

  I took in a deep breath and let it out. “You’re right. I know I mentioned this already, but I love when a man has a clean house. I can’t tell you how many times a guy invited me back to his crib and it looked like a tornado went through the place.”

  “I wonder why they weren’t embarrassed. My mother used to tell me and my sister the same thing. Nobody wants to be with someone with a nasty house.”

  “You have a sister. Is she older or younger?”

  “She’s two years older. Always bossed me around, especially after our mother died.”

  I didn’t ask about his father in case that was a bad memor
y. Didn’t want to spoil the mood.

  “You have any siblings?” DeAndre asked. “Family?”

  “Only child. Mom and Dad live in Birmingham. But I definitely get my cleaning frenzies from my mom.”

  DeAndre smiled and leaned toward me. “Come closer,” he said. “Bring your face to mine.”

  When I did, DeAndre kissed me again. I leaned back up and sipped my wine.

  “You had enough to eat? You wanna watch a movie?” DeAndre asked.

  “Oh, a little Netflix and chill,” I asked.

  “Better than that.”

  DeAndre grabbed the wine bottle and both our glasses. I followed him down the same hallway where the bathroom was. At the end there were a set of double doors.

  He opened the doors to a theater room with a huge screen and several big cushy looking chairs.

  “A theater? Oh, you’re taking let’s stay inside to another level.”

  “Absolutely.”

  DeAndre led me to the middle row of seats. “There’s clean blankets in the little cube right there,” he said.

  I sat down and immediately the seat started to recline. DeAndre laughed.

  “You must be sitting on the remote,” he said.

  I reached around beneath me and I was indeed sitting on the remote. For a second, I thought the chair had gone into autopilot. Get that ass mode.

  “I’d like to get out of this suit and tie. Can you give me a few minutes?” DeAndre asked.

  “Take more than a few. I’m patient.”

  DeAndre leaned down and put a soft kiss on my lips. “I’m not.”

  I rested my eyes for a for what felt like a few minutes, but it must’ve been more than that because DeAndre was back and wearing a t-shirt and gray sweats. Perfect. Easy access.

  “What movie would you like to watch?” DeAndre asked.

  “What’s your favorite?”

  “I’m sure you don’t want to watch my favorite. It’s an old karate movie with subtitles.”

  “Ew.”

  “What about Love and Basketball?”

  “Now you’re talking.”

  A movie that I could probably recite by heart, which was fine, because I didn’t too much plan on watching it. DeAndre pressed through several menus with his remote until he had the movie playing on the screen. Then, he came and sat down next to me.