by Mary Monroe
Valerie’s eyes drifted to the side and she stared at the wall for a few moments before she gazed across the table at me with a pensive look on her face. “Maybe we’re being too hard on Brother Paul. Maybe you should give him a little more time. Maybe something happened that kept him from calling you when he said he would,” she said, her voice gentle and even. It was hard to believe that these words were coming from the same woman who had sounded so hard and harsh a few minutes earlier. “And if you don’t ever hear from him again, there’s plenty more where he came from.”
After a while I got tired of trashing Paul and laughing at jokes about him and the Tootsie Roll of a dick that Moanin’ Lisa said he probably had. I had told her about the little surprise that Earl had between his legs. Despite the fact that I still wanted to get to know Paul, I pushed him out of my mind.
However, when he called me up and invited me to dinner two nights before my next visit to Floyd, I was pleasantly surprised and overjoyed. My two roommates changed their tune about Paul as fast as I changed mine. This was the same hound-from-hell that the three of us had demonized. Now they wanted me to find out if he had any single friends.
Despite my previous opinions about Paul, I utilized my prerogative without hesitation. My plan was to enjoy dinner at the upscale French restaurant he had selected, wallow around in bed with him for a few hours, and go on about my business. But things didn’t go the way I thought they would. One bedroom romp with him wasn’t enough. It was so good I knew I had to see him again. For the first time, my commitment to Floyd bothered me to the bone. And Paul didn’t make it any easier. “LoReese, I don’t know what it is about you. But for some reason, I feel like I’ve known you all my life. It feels like we’ve already shared a past. Now let’s concentrate on our future.”
“We’ll see,” I muttered with slight hesitation. “There’s no reason for us to move too fast, though.”
By the end of that first night with Paul, I looked at Floyd as a burden. But the minute Paul drove onto my street to take me home, which was six o’clock in the evening of the next day, I looked at the house where Floyd used to live with Glodine. That made me feel like shit. As soon as Paul stopped in front of my address, I leaped out of the car while the motor was still running.
“Hey—can I call you tomorrow?” Paul yelled. I turned to see him getting out of his maroon Porsche with a dumbfounded look on his face. I guess he didn’t know what to think, especially after the way I’d clawed and pawed all over his body the night before. Neither did Valerie and Moanin’ Lisa. Those nosy heifers were looking out the front window in plain view! Valerie had an amused look on her face. Moanin’ Lisa looked like she had just finished crying and was about to start up again.
“Yeah!” I managed. I ignored my roommates and ran straight through the living room on upstairs. I stayed in my bedroom until it was time for me to head up to the prison to visit Floyd.
CHAPTER 34
I left the house before dawn the next morning. What was left of my brain felt like it was floating around outside of my throbbing head. During the two-hour drive to the prison, I replayed almost every word that had come out of Paul’s mouth the night before. On one hand I was overjoyed and impressed at what he had said to me. But on the other hand, his words had scared me. The way I was already feeling about him scared me. The fact that I had a deep, dark secret sitting in prison for life that I had to keep from him and everybody else scared me, too.
I had no appetite so I had not eaten or even drunk any coffee before I left the house. But as soon as I reached the freeway I wished I had. I was so drowsy I could hardly keep my eyes open and my attention on the road. I even thought about turning around and going back home and jumping into bed and hiding under the covers for the rest of the weekend, and inviting Paul to join me. But every time I thought about doing that, I pictured Floyd sitting in that cold cell counting the minutes to my visit.
I was glad that there were not too many other cars on the road because I was driving like a beginner. Twice I had to swerve to avoid hitting squirrels strutting across the road like they owned it. After those close calls I started driving so erratically I got pulled over twice by highway patrolmen who both made me do that balloon test so they could determine if I’d been drinking. One even made me recite the alphabet backward. After I’d convinced them that I had not been drinking, each one let me go with a stern warning.
I stopped several times at rest stops during the long, lonesome drive, just so I could organize my thoughts. I was so confused about what I wanted to do, and what I needed to do, I could barely think straight. I loved Floyd. There was no doubt about that. But if things went well with Paul, I knew that I could love him just as much. Choosing one over the other was something I didn’t want to think about. And wouldn’t, if I didn’t have to. Under the circumstances, neither one had to know about the other. As long as I could have them both, I would.
Floyd didn’t waste any time cutting to the chase. As soon as I sat down and picked up that prison telephone he got nosy. “What’s up with the dark glasses and the turtleneck sweater? You look like a spy.” I didn’t like that, and I didn’t like the cold look on his face. “You trying to hide something?”
“Who me? I don’t have anything to hide,” I replied quickly. “It’s just that I got up at the crack of dawn to drive up here, so I didn’t get much sleep. The circles around my eyes are so bad I look like a panda bear,” I joked. Floyd gave me a guarded look. And then his eyes roamed down from my face to my neck. I didn’t give him the chance to ask me why I had on a turtleneck sweater in the middle of July; I volunteered the information, which was a straight-up lie. He didn’t need to know that I’d spent the night with a man who had gnawed on my neck like a vampire and left sucker bites the size of quarters. “Uh, I drove with my window down and that cold air gave me a sore throat,” I said, rubbing my throat.
“I’m glad you knew you’d get a sore throat in advance to pack a turtleneck,” he said, his suspicious eyes still on my neck. Our eyes met for a moment. He was the first to look away.
“Uh-huh. Uh, you look good. . . . well . . . rested.” I stumbled over my words. I was glad he didn’t notice how much I was shifting my butt around in my seat. I was still sore between my legs from my workout with Paul.
“So,” he continued, crossing his arms. “Tell me something good.”
“I’m glad I got a new car. I don’t have to worry about renting cars or taking a bus up here to see you. Did I tell you, it’s a steel gray Honda Civic?” I said with the excitement of a child.
“Yeah, you’ve told me all that before. I hear more about that Honda than I hear about you. But you can talk about whatever you want to talk about. Your visits mean a lot to me,” Floyd reminded.
“Oh,” I muttered. “Well I really like it. I really needed it,” I insisted.
“That’s nice and I’m happy you got you a new car, Lo. I wish I had one,” Floyd said, giving me a stiff look. It was obvious that he had been working out. Everything that I could see on him was more defined, and he looked more handsome than ever. Under the circumstances, I didn’t think that a young man looking too good in a prison was a good thing. I knew more than I wanted to know about what went on among convicts who couldn’t stick their dicks inside women. That was a subject I had no desire to bring up. The thought of my man becoming some horny bastard’s bitch was enough to make me sick. The thought of it being the other way around was twice as bad for me to think about. But it was a thought that I couldn’t ignore. Especially since I knew how much Floyd liked to fuck. “How’s work on that love boat?” I didn’t appreciate his sneer, but I decided to let it slide this time.
“Uh, we hosted a literary cruise a couple of weeks ago. It was two women’s birthday, so we had a wild party afterward. My boss got so drunk she flirted with a busboy and then gave the ship’s doctor a lap dance.” I guffawed. Floyd didn’t see the humor. I stopped laughing and resumed a serious tone of voice. “I suggested a costume party
on our next cruise. The literary cruise was my idea, too. I wish you could have been there.” Floyd looked at me like I was speaking Arabic. I liked to crack open a good book every now and then, but Floyd was the kind of brother who would rather get a whupping than read. “And since it was such a huge success, my boss is going to give me even more responsibilities. That means more money . . . for us.” At the mention of money Floyd’s expression changed, and for the better I was glad to see.
“That’s good. I’m going to need it if I ever get a new lawyer,” he told me, with a hopeful look on his face.
I felt so helpless. I didn’t know what to say to make his situation less painful. I decided to let him introduce the subjects we discussed. However, I didn’t like the one he had just brought up. “New lawyer? What do you need a new lawyer for? Your trial is over and we lost. Baby, this is the end of road—”
“Thanks for reminding me. I hope you don’t mind, but every now and then I like to get a little optimistic.”
“Floyd, what do you expect a new lawyer to do? That’s all I want to know.”
“I need somebody on the outside trying to help me so I—”
“And what do you call what I do for you?” I asked, an exasperated look on my face. “Floyd, I promised you I would stick by you all the way, and that’s what I’m doing. Your case is closed. They’ve sentenced you. What else is there for us to do?” Floyd sniffed and dropped his head. He looked down for so long, I thought he’d fallen asleep. “Floyd, don’t make this any harder on yourself than it already is,” I pleaded. He looked back up at me with a dry smile on his face. “What is it, baby?”
“Remember all the plans we made about getting married? Those are the thoughts that keep me going,” he told me. “I would have been the proudest man on this planet to call you my wife. A straight-up trophy one at that!”
I couldn’t speak for a moment. No other man had ever said anything like that to me before, and probably never would. I blinked and then beamed. “And if things were different, I’d love to be your wife,” I said with a smile so broad it made my cheeks ache. “If I could marry you tomorrow, I would.” Despite the naughty secret that I knew I had to keep from Floyd about Paul, I managed to feel good the rest of my visit.
CHAPTER 35
There were a lot of single men up for grabs in the L.A. area. But a lot of them had as many cracks as a cheap plate. Compared to them, Paul was flawless. He was the man for me. Well, he was one of the men for me. As long as Floyd needed me, I’d be there for him, too.
I had no idea I could fall so hopelessly in love with another man after Floyd. Despite the fact that I felt just a little bit guilty, I was glad to know that at least I still had some love in me to share. My relationship with Paul didn’t change a thing between Floyd and me. I was still just as much his woman, as I could be, no matter how far I went with Paul. Bless his heart, he had been around for more than six months, and things could not have been better between us. He liked the fact that I was so independent, and I liked the fact that he didn’t badger me about my whereabouts when he couldn’t reach me. The relationship was perfect as far as I was concerned. I could not have been happier. And I was convinced that he couldn’t have been, either.
Not only did Paul treat me like a queen, he looked at me like I was the only woman on the planet. “Sweetheart, I’ve been looking for a woman like you all my life. Now that I’ve found you, I’ll never let you go.” Paul said those words while he was on top of me, pumping away so hard I was afraid that we would tumble off his bed. I knew that most men said a lot of crazy shit when they were fucking a woman. But he said the same things to me when he was not on top of me. Therefore, I believed every word that came out of his mouth. Why wouldn’t I? With him in my hip pocket, and Floyd in my heart, I had it all. I had the best of both worlds. And I was enjoying every minute of it.
Unfortunately, the same things could not be said for my two roommates. I knew that they were jealous of me, but I took it all in stride. In addition to half of Paul’s single male friends, and a few of his married buddies, Valerie had gone through several more men in the last six months. As usual, she didn’t hear from any of them again after two or three dates. And one even disappeared before the first date was over!
“I must have the most loathsome pussy in the world,” Valerie complained, sitting on my unmade bed as she watched me prepare for another date with Paul. He was taking me to Palm Springs for the weekend on the corporate jet! Valerie and Moanin’ Lisa were going to spend the weekend painting our living room.
“I wouldn’t say that,” I told her, wiggling into a loose black cotton dress that hid some of the lumps I’d been trying to get rid of for months. “You just haven’t run into the right man yet. Look how long it took me to find Paul.”
“And that’s another thing. Paul all but fell into your lap. You don’t even have to go looking for men, like I do. They seem to find you,” Valerie said with tears in her eyes. That poor woman. I felt so sorry for her. Unfortunately, I wasn’t the Wizard of Oz, so I couldn’t give her the help she needed. I couldn’t make a man fall in love with her. If I had that power, none of my female friends would still be single.
“That’s the problem,” I stated. I paused, hoping I didn’t sound smug. I must have, because both of Valerie’s eyebrows shot up so high they looked like horseshoes.
I could see that Valerie was close to having an anxiety attack. Her eyes and her body language told me that. She sniffed and swallowed so much air so hard, her chest rose like a balloon. She had to lift her chin and blink hard a few times to compose herself. Massaging her chest, she continued. “Men falling into your lap? You might think that’s a problem, but I don’t.” She held up her hand, and I held up my hand.
“Don’t you say another word yet. Let me finish. What I meant was the part about you going looking for men. Stop looking for a man. Let a man look for you,” I advised, as I brushed the curly auburn wig I’d been wearing for the past month. I gave Valerie a look that I hoped didn’t make me seem smug. “Why couldn’t I be as lucky as you and have some decent hair,” I said, shaking the wig. “I can’t do perms, and I refuse to get a weave. And my own hair gets so frizzy so fast.” I could tell by the look on Valerie’s face that she was not buying the way I was putting myself down. I knew that she knew I was doing it to try to make her feel better about herself, but I stayed on that track anyway. “With your looks and the fact that you are the sole owner of a highly successful business, you deserve the cream of the crop. None of the men I’ve been with could appreciate a woman like you,” I said. I knew that if I wanted to keep Valerie from getting too jealous of me, I had to say something that off-the-wall. From the thoughtful look that slid across her face, she must have fallen for that lame statement. “Relax and things will fall into place.”
I did feel sorry for Valerie, but letting her know that wouldn’t have done either one of us any good. I knew for a fact that she didn’t like to be pitied. And if I had told her that I felt sorry for her because she couldn’t get and keep a man, she probably would have cussed me out. And she should have. No woman in America, especially a pretty and successful woman, wanted to be pitied. That was a cloak of shame that most of the people I knew usually reserved for the homely, the poor, and the disabled. Valerie was neither one of those things.
But the reality of romance was cruel—for some women. And that could not be denied or ignored. Not only was the dating game a bitch, it was downright unfair and unpredictable. I was a good example of that. I didn’t have a lot of things that most of the men in L.A. wanted in a woman. Like a lot of money, fame, a jazzy car, and a fantastic background. But apparently I had enough. I wasn’t Miss America, but I was by no means a plain Jane. A lot of men told me to my face that I was beautiful and that I had a body that they wanted to get some dibs on. So I was all right in the looks department; that was in my favor. I was also loyal, dependable, and sensitive, and I knew how to hold a decent conversation. But all that described Valerie and
most of the other women I knew, too. The only other explanation for my success with men had to be luck. And I must have had enough for two women because I had two men in my hip pocket. And I was turning down dates with other men left and right.
I wanted every woman to be as happy as I was, especially my friends. Well, the tide finally turned in another direction. And as hard as it was to believe, Moanin’ Lisa had the nerve to get engaged to a bodybuilder who also serviced her truck. But that didn’t last long. A month after he asked her to marry him, he was gone. I was not surprised. The few times that he’d come to the house to see her, she had whined and complained the whole time about one thing or another. Even the strongest man could only take so much. “I bet he’s gay and was just using me to hide it,” Moanin’ Lisa decided. “Next time I’m going to hold out for a man like Paul, like you did. He’s everything I want in a man.”
CHAPTER 36
Paul was everything and more of what I wanted in a man. One of the most important aspects was that he was free. He was my man in every sense of the word, not just in name only like Floyd had become. Every time I visited Floyd I got so horny when I saw all the new muscles he’d developed from lifting weights every day, I wanted to hump him in the worse way. But with that glass wall between us, I couldn’t even fondle his balls or pinch his cheeks like I did Paul when I wanted to cuddle.
“Lo, you don’t know how much I look forward to your visits,” Floyd told me, a smile on his face and his chin in the palm of his hand. “You’re the only thing that keeps me going. And boy do you look good to me. Being in love sure agrees with you, sister. You are glowing like a big candle! What’s up with that? That’s cool, baby!”
“That’s love,” I said with a shrug and a pensive look.
