Overcoming

by H. R. Kitte-Rojas

  Her instincts told her she should call Celeste, but she didn't want to hear the I-told-you-so.

  What, then? She damn sure wasn't going to get any sleep that night.

  She called his Nextel again. When she got his outgoing message, she hung up and hit redial. He should still be on stand-by, so he couldn't turn his Nextel off. She would keep redialing either until his battery died or until he answered.

  Finally, he did answer. "What?" his voice barked, angrily.

  Now that she had him on the line, she wasn't sure what she wanted to say to him. Too many horrible thoughts were jumbled together in her mind.

  "Hello," he said, impatiently.

  "Who is she, Miles?"

  "Who is who?"

  Her voice cracked as she snapped, "You know damn well who! That old tramp who had her hand in your lap and her tongue down your throat!"

  "I told you about her," he said, flatly.

  "Oh, your 'friend with benefits'."

  "Who were you there with?" he asked, accusingly.

  "My daughter," she said, then, grudgingly, added, "and the friend I told you about."

  "So why are you so pissed off?"

  "Because I wasn't all up on his nuts, Miles! I didn't have my hands all over him, or my mouth on his face!"

  "No. You just had sex with him. That's all."

  She took a few deep breaths and tried to calm her voice. "I told you: that's in the past. We're just friends, now."

  "A friend that's more important to you than I am, now, obviously," he retorted, his own voice rising.

  "Grow up, Miles. I told you we had made plans before you and I got together. He took a day off work. It wouldn't have been--"

  "Bullshit!" he interrupted. "You didn't want to be seen in public with 'Whitey.' You needed some GQ 'brutha' to keep up appearances. You'll be friendly with me in secret, but as soon as another black person comes on the scene, you throw me under the bus."

  "It's not like that, Miles."

  "How is it, then, you two-faced hypocrite?"

  "What did you call me?"

  "You heard me," Miles said. "You talk out one side of your mouth to me, and another side for everyone else. You tell me you want us to stop seeing other people, then the first time something comes up where your friends and co-workers would find out we're together, you push me aside for some escort who's the right color for you. I don't need that shit!"

  Shauna took more deep breaths. "Look, if you think I did wrong by you, you should come to me and discuss it. It's not an excuse for you to go cheating on me."

  "Cheating? Cheating? For it to be cheating, we have to be in a mutual commitment, Shauna."

  "We are! At least, I thought we were."

  "Bullshit. You saw it all as a one-way street. You want me to be all committed, but when you get around your own kind, hide the honky cracker in the back room."

  "Miles, I'm not some horrible person. You make it sound like I'm nothing but a bigot."

  "Duh. If the foo shits, Shauna."

  The door swung open and Katina stepped tentatively inside with a concerned expression. "Mommy?"

  "Just a second," Shauna told Miles, then covered the receiver. "Yes, baby?"

  Overcoming

  "Are you okay?" Katina asked. She forced a smile. "I'm fine, Baby. But it's about your bedtime. Go put your pajamas on and lay down. I'll come tuck you in in a little while."

  Katina sauntered away, shutting the door behind her. "Let me tell you how I see it," she said, into the phone. "You wanted to sample some chocolate. So you charmed your way into my bed. You told me everything I wanted to hear--whatever it took. Now that you've got that notch in your gun, you're back to screwing every woman who will spread her legs, and this baloney about Clarence and the picnic is just your excuse."

  "There's no way you even believe that, yourself," he said. "I welcomed you into my house, introduced you to my friends, and was even gullible enough to break it off with the woman I was seeing because of your snow job."

  "It sure didn't look to me like you broke it off," Shauna said.

  "She was out of town. I was gonna tell her when she got back."

  "Right, Miles. It sure didn't look like you told her."

  "She got back in town yesterday. After I found out you were full of it."

  "Oh, how convenient, Miles. You must really think I'm stupid. So I hurt your poor little feelings and you just have to go prowling for cougars in heat?"

  "What's it matter to you--how is any of it your business?"

  "It's my business," she hissed, "because I gave you part of me. That's not something I take lightly."

  "You didn't give me shit," he said. "You loaned it out, in private, until it was time to keep up appearances."

  Shauna used her free hand to play with her braids. She had always considered smoking a nasty habit, but right then she could partially understand why people did it...if the nicotine truly did relieve stress like this.

  "Miles, did you sleep with that woman?"

  "None of your damn business."

  She cleared her throat. "Miles, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry for hurting your feelings--"

  "No you're not. You're sorry you're being held accountable. That's all."

  "--But it is my business, Miles. We're in a relationship. We've been intimate. We shared something I just don't share with anyone. And I need to know if you slept with her."

  "That's a crock. What's it matter?"

  "It matters because I can forgive you if all you did was grope and kiss, because you were angry at me. But if you had sex with her..."

  "Hell yeah, I nailed her." His callous words pierced her like a hot icepick. "I'm gonna nail her again later. I'm gonna pump her every chance I get. Why the hell not?"

  With little warning, tears seeped from her eyes and streamed down her face. "If you wanted to hurt me, Miles, you've really done it. Congratulations. I hope it was worth it."

  "If you're so hurt, I'm sure your black boyfriend can console you."

  "Can you forget skin color for a minute, Miles? I'm a human being with feelings."

  "Oh, you people want to look at everything racially when it suits you. When it no longer serves your purpose, we're all supposed to forget about it."

  "'You people'?" She echoed, incredulously.

  "Don't play dumb. Yeah: 'your people' are a bunch of hypocrites. You complain about discrimination all the time, when it doesn't go your way. But you're all for it when it works in your favor. Out one side of your mouth, you say hiring decisions shouldn't be made based on ethnicity, but you don't see anything wrong with Affirmative Action, which does exactly that."

  Shauna was speechless--confused and disbelieving.

  "This 'brother' you feel so obligated to--is he really more deserving than I am to be seen with you?" Miles continued, seeming to build momentum in what was becoming a furious rant. "That promotion you got--did you really deserve it more than the other candidates?"

  Shauna hung up and sat staring at the wall.

  26

  Miles listened to the sound of a disconnected call, then pushed the "end" button on his Nextel and stood in the street with shoulders slumped.

  Waves of guilt splashed over his brain. He had gone too far and really hurt Shauna.

  Why had he gone off on her like that? She needed to be held accountable for her hypocrisy, but his response had been out of proportion. The whole business with Tyrell and Tre Townsend had pissed him off, but he shouldn't have taken it out on her. For all he knew, Rumkis was blowing smoke and Townsend really was the more qualified guy.

  Who gives a shit? If she don't like the heat, the bitch should stay out of the kitchen!

  Miles pocketed his phone and ambled back toward Rita's house.

  Rita gave him a wink over her coffee cup, then took a drag from her cigarette.

  He flashed her a smile. It probably looked phony. It felt phony. Who cared?

  "Everything all right?" Rita asked.

  "Just some stupid
shit," he mumbled.

  She made no effort to drag it out of him. Boy, was that a relief. He just wanted to be left alone right then, not forced to answer questions. Rita left him alone.

  She retired to the living room and watched some TV. He eventually wandered in, collapsed on the couch and sat like a zombie, staring through the television screen into nothingness. Eventually Rita handed him the remote and went to bed. He sat motionless for another hour before breaking out of his vegetative state, then went to bed himself.

  Rita stirred when he climbed between the sheets, and attached herself to him, complaining that she didn't sleep well without sex. Between sleepy joking and physical teasing, she worked him into an aroused state.

  Once his passions were awakened, they were hard to control, and his sexual efforts were rough, angry, almost violent. Rita seemed to enjoy it, coaxing him on to even more frantic abandon as if she could take anything he could dish out.

  They climaxed together in a chorus of her screams and moans. Afterwards he wasn't just spent, but felt utterly empty.

  When he awoke with the emptiness still aching in him, there was nothing to fill the vacuum but the sensuous woman in his arms, who so willingly gave her body to him.

  *** Shauna kept to herself for days, only talking to her parents when necessary and avoiding Celeste's calls.

  Then one night Celeste showed up at her apartment with a bag of Jolly Ranchers and a four-pack of wine coolers. The gifts demonstrated that Celeste knew her friend was hurting. The Jolly Ranchers were comfort food while they re-broke the ice and Celeste cheered her up with girlfriend talk. The wine coolers were for later, when Shauna bared her soul and welcomed Celeste to commiserate.

  When they were ready for commiseration, hours later, Shauna told her Miles had brought another woman to the picnic and made out with her in public. She told Celeste about the phone conversation afterwards, and the horrible racist remarks Miles had made.

  "Oh my god, girlfriend," Celeste said, skooching closer to her on the couch to proffer a hug. "I'm so sorry."

  Shauna embraced her briefly, then patted her arm to signal the hug was done. I'm fine. I'm not fragile. I'm tough enough to handle this.

  "Here's your chance to say 'I told you so'," Shauna said.

  "There's something I don't understand, though," Celeste said, ignoring the remark. "For him to find this other woman at the picnic, he must have snuck away from you for a while..."

  Shauna shook her head, exhaling heavily. "No. He didn't sneak away. We drove separately."

  "So he just showed up with another woman and expected you to join in a chocolate-vanilla ménage a trois?"

  "Well, no. I went with Clarence, and Miles was mad about that, so I guess he called up his friend-with-benefits from before."

  Celeste sat silently for a long moment, examining her friend. When Shauna grew uncomfortable, Celeste averted her eyes, but still looked disturbed.

  "I had promised Clarence from before," Shauna protested. "He took a day off work so he could take me and Katina. It didn't seem fair to brush him off just because I had a new boyfriend."

  Celeste took a sip of her wine cooler. "It does seem childish of him. But it also sounds like you really hurt his feelings. Rejection is hard to take for anybody."

  "I didn't reject him!" Shauna snapped. "I explained that Clarence and I are just friends now, and how he took a day off work and all that. But Miles kept bringing up that I had sex with Clarence."

  Celeste said nothing until Shauna took a swig of wine cooler and leaned back, closing her eyes.

  "Um, Shauna," Celeste said, then cleared her throat. "If the shoe was on the other foot, wouldn't it have bothered you if he had turned you down to take some other girl...who he had sex with before? Even if he insisted they were just friends, now?"

  Shauna opened her eyes and stared in bewilderment at her friend. "Are you defending him?"

  "No," Celeste said, quietly, took another sip and flashed a sympathetic smile. "No. You're better off without him. There's too much drama from all directions when you're a mixed couple, and there are plenty of fine brothers out there who would kill to have you."

  "Damn right," Shauna said, without conviction.

  Celeste gave her until the next weekend, and then began applying the pressure for Shauna to put herself back on the market. They got rid of the braids and bleached some highlights into Shauna's new wavy 'do. After more wine coolers--this time for a different purpose, Celeste convinced Shauna to accompany her to the club one night.

  They danced and mingled and, sure enough, received plenty of male attention.

  Again due to Celeste's nagging, Shauna gave out her digits to one handsome high-yellow brother who claimed to own his own car wash, and had a BMW emblem on the car keys he set on the table.

  He called her the next night. He was respectful and real, but Shauna felt like a fish out of water during the whole conversation. He asked her out to a concert, but she declined, using Katina as an excuse.

  Neither he, nor Celeste, gave up easily. She went out to dinner and a movie with him, and went clubbing with Celeste again. Soon a rotation of several men were leaving her voice mails.

  One time, assuming it was Jamario ringing her phone off the hook, she answered without checking the caller ID.

  "Shauna?" It was Miles.

  "Hello," she said, flatly.

  "How you doin'?"

  "Fine."

  He stumbled through some lame attempts at small talk. She kept her voice even as she gave terse responses, but her heart raced.

  She was still mad at him. She was mad at herself, too, for missing him so much.

  "Is there a purpose to this call?" she asked, as coldly as she could.

  "Yeah. What I...I mean, I just... Well, my reason is to apologize."

  She wouldn't have guessed it possible, but her heart rate sped even faster.

  "I shouldn't have made those remarks about your job...all that bigoted stuff. There's no excuse for that. I'm sorry."

  "Okay," she said. "is that it?"

  "That's it. Um, bye."

  And he hung up.

  Shauna sat clutching the phone for a while and, further angering herself, cried some more.

  Damn him!

  Why had she let him off so easy? She should have let him have it with both barrels. Sorry about the bigoted stuff? What about the slut he took to the picnic?

  He'd been having sex with her ever since, no doubt. She was probably screwing him silly that very minute. The call was nothing but an attempt to alleviate whatever guilt penetrated his sorry excuse for a conscience.

  What if he had apologized for everything? She was such a fool, she'd probably forgive him.

  No "probably" about it--she would have. She ached for him. Not just his touch, his validating compliments in her ear or that wonderment in his eyes when he looked at her. Also the sound of his voice, the way he moved, his scent, how they laughed together, how he shivered when she caressed his back or played with his hair...

  How had she become so enamored in so short a time?

  She needed time alone. All these men Celeste wanted her to sample were just making her feel all the more overwhelmed. She needed to forget about men for a while.

  *** Miles finished early enough to catch Frank's next movie night. He and Rita simply walked over from her house. Miles was halfway to drinking himself into a stupor when Frank pulled him away for a private discussion in the room Frank used for editing.

  "What's up, Miles? You playing?"

  "Playing?" Miles echoed.

  "Burning the candle at both ends," Frank clarified. "Shauna and

  my neighbor?"

  "Shauna's history," Miles said, flatly.

  "Really." Frank looked almost grim. "Why's that?"

  "I'm sick of her BS, man. This interracial stuff don't work." Frank probed him for specifics, but Miles was evasive. Normally,

  when he knew Miles didn't want to rehash something, he'd let it go. This time, howe
ver, he mercilessly questioned his friend until Miles spilled everything.

  They sat in opposite swivel chairs for a long, silent moment, then Frank sighed deeply. "Miles, any man who says he understands women is full of it. But just from meeting her the one time, I can tell Shauna's a good woman. And I think she's right for you."

  Miles squinted at him, as if trying to access some part of his brain not pickled in alcohol to contemplate this idea. Then he blinked his eyes and shook his head as if fighting to stay awake. "Apparently not."

  Frank shook his own head. "Her going to the company picnic with the other guy wasn't cool. Her acting embarrassed to be seen with you isn't cool, either. Okay? I'll give you that. But you were even more wrong for what you did."

  "I apologized for the racist stuff," Miles protested.

  "It's not just that," Frank said. "You went way all out of proportion with the revenge thing. What she did didn't justify you sleeping around on her; and it sure doesn't justify you rubbing her face in it."

  "Hey, she asked me a question; so I answered," Miles retorted, face flushing red. "And she slept around with this other dude, too."

  "In the past."

  "How do you know it's all in the past?"

  Frank sighed again. "Look, dog: Do you want to be with this girl?"

  Miles' gaze dropped and veered away. "Hell, no. Not with all this drama."

  "Don't lie to me, Miles. You're my boy; we're tight; so keep it real. Swallow your pride, straighten your drunk ass up and tell me if you wanna be with Shauna."

  Miles took forever to answer then, looking sheepish, said, "I guess I do."

  "Then you're gonna have to be the bigger person, sometimes!" Frank declared, sounding almost angry. "Forgive her! Fix your own hang-ups, and let her fix her own!"

  "My hang-ups! What hang-ups?"

  "Start with the big grudge you been carrying around for Jones and Townsend. It must be eating at you or you wouldn't have thrown it in her face."

  "I apologized for that, I said."

  "Don't just say you're sorry," Frank said. "Show her. Eat some crow. Talk about your feelings with her--all that girlie shit. But let her know you want her back."

  "I'm not the only one who was wrong," Miles said. "If I take all the blame, that just reinforces to her that everything's always my fault, and she don't have to change nothin'."