Somebody Else's Man

by Daaimah S. Poole

  While Dre was walking back to the table I was about to get up to leave. He had the wrong one. I wasn’t with the disrespect. That was my new rule. No disrespect at all. As I walked past him, he grabbed my arm and asked where I was going. At first I looked at him like he better get his arm the fuck off of me, then I said, “Listen, it was nice meeting you, but I have to go.”

  “You can’t sit and finish dinner with me?”

  “No!”

  “I’m sorry for being rude. That was a real important phone call. Listen, I’m really done with my phone. Let me make it up to you,” he said as he nudged me back toward the table.

  I reluctantly sat back down and we started our date over. I didn’t really want to leave, but I had to let him know what he was doing was not acceptable.

  Dre grabbed my hand and said, “Let’s start this date over. I apologize for being late and inattentive to you.”

  I laughed because he was cute and being corny at the same time. So now that he was on my time, I began probing him for information. “So, who keeps calling you? Your girlfriend? Or your wife?”

  “I don’t have one of them. It was my brother, and one of my sisters, and my children’s mom.”

  “Why they calling you so much?”

  “I would like to know the same thing. They all act like they can’t function or make decisions without me. I’m going to turn this thing off.” He sighed. Then, assuring me that he was being true to his word, he turned off his phone and then put it in his jacket pocket.

  “Everybody calling you. You must be really important,” I snickered, being sarcastic.

  “By the way my phone is always ringing, it looks that way, don’t it? But it is not like that. And my kids’ mom is crazy. She calls me more now than she did when we were together. I think she does it to get on my nerves. She is still mad that we broke up.”

  “Why is she mad? Why did you break up with her?”

  “I had to leave her because she couldn’t get herself together. She didn’t want to do anything with herself and wasn’t supportive on anything I did. I’m running my businesses and she just wanted to sit home and be lazy. Plus, she never had anything positive to say. So I finally gave up on her.”

  “Really,” I said, but I was thinking, Here we go again. Another man telling the no-good-woman story—I’ve heard it many times before. It usually goes, My ex was this, she was that, but yet I stayed with her for all these years, even though she was a bad lover, horrible cook, and had no ambition. Dre was just like any other lying man.

  “Yeah, sometimes I feel like she’s one of my kids. She calls me about every little problem—”

  Oh, shut up! I definitely started tuning him out. I was now sorry I’d gotten him to open up about his baby mama drama because he wouldn’t stop talking about his ex. I mentally went in and out of the conversation, adding murmurs that sounded like I was really listening, but I was actually thinking about what I had to do at home.

  “She begged me not to move out, and as soon as I moved back in she cheated on me. I was playing my part and everything. She just didn’t appreciate me. I don’t know what her problem was. I think she wasn’t raised right. I was taking care of my kids, her, and her other daughter that’s not even mine. Then her brother needed a job and I had him working with me, so he could stop stealing cars. I feel like I just wasted six years of my life. You know?”

  “Wow, that’s a whole lot to walk away from, two kids and six years,” I piped in, not really caring about his situation.

  “I know, right? But it was time to leave. She wasn’t trying to do her part and it just wasn’t working. You feel me? She was just real childish. She was into a lot of dumb shit. Her and her girlfriends always want to sit back and get high. And she could never keep a job. I’m the type of man who doesn’t mind paying all the bills, but do something. She wouldn’t even clean the house. I be at work all day and when I got home…no dinner…. house a mess…and the same dishes would still be in the sink from the morning.”

  “So, she never had a job?”

  “No, I sent her to a bunch of schools. She went to hair and culinary school and she never finished either one.”

  “So, what does that say about you?”

  What you mean? he asked, by his expression. I could tell he didn’t have a clue, that he didn’t think that he contributed to his baby mother’s behavior. He was doing so much talking he was becoming flustered and I guess rehashing old memories got him upset. He stopped talking enough to ask me if I wanted to have a drink. I said no, even though I needed a drink real bad if I was going to continue to listen to his tale of the “good for nothing woman.”

  “So, what you meant by what does that say about me?”

  “You stayed with her all those years, you might as well have stayed some more. Why leave now?”

  “No way. I had enough. Besides, the trust was gone.”

  “I’m just saying you were together for all those years. That’s a long time to be with someone you’re not even married to.”

  “I was going to marry her. But she was on some other shit.”

  “How long have y’all been broken up?”

  “A little over a year.”

  “That’s kind of long for you to still be this mad.”

  “I’m not mad. No, not at all. So, what’s your situation, Miss Nicole?” he asked, finally turning the focus on me.

  “I’m single.”

  “Nobody in your life? Not even a special friend? I’m asking you this for a reason. It may come back up later, and I’m going to come back to this conversation. So, again, are you positive?”

  “Yeah, I’m sure.” I felt like I should tell him about Malcolm. But what for? Me and Malcolm were over. My past relationships didn’t matter. So, I repeated my status. “I’m definitely single.”

  “So, who you say you live with, again?”

  “I live at home with my mom and stepdad. I do have my own house, but it’s just not livable.” I started getting mad thinking about my situation. “I bought a house and I got burnt by the contractors. I signed a thirty-one-thousand-dollar check over to them before they finished the work. At the time, I didn’t know any better.”

  “Damn, so they got you like that? You never pay anyone before they complete the job.”

  I nodded in agreement. “Well, yeah. I know that now. So, now I’m paying for a house that I can’t live in because it has no plumbing or heating system. This is the first time I’ve lived back at home in years. I had my last apartment for six years.” I told him so I didn’t seem like a loser who lived at home.

  “Where is the house at?”

  “West Oak Lane.”

  “Maybe I can take a look at it for you. That’s what my company does. We remodel homes and rehab houses.”

  “That would be good, but I don’t have any more money,” I said, laughing.

  “Don’t worry, we’ll work out a good price for you.”

  “All right. We’ll see, Dre. What’s your real name? Andre?”

  “No, Dondre.”

  “That’s different,” I chuckled.

  “Are you laughing at my name? My dad named me. He just passed two years ago. He was eighty years old, but he was still working and running around like he was younger.”

  “Eighty! How old was he when he had you?”

  “He was in his fifties and my mom was only twenty-five. My dad liked young ladies. This was his problem. My mom was his third wife, and I’m the oldest of my dad’s third set of kids. I got three sisters and a brother.” He looked up in thought, counting in his head. “I think I got like…um, seven older brothers and sisters and they all are, like, in their fifties and sixties. They ain’t never really dealt with us, though. They was mad at him because he kept having kids, even while he was getting up in his years. Yeah, he was a player for real.”

  “That is too funny. I’m the only child.”

  “Are your parents still together?”

  Dre had hit a subject I didn’t w
ant to talk about. My eyes blinked as I gathered my words. “No. Actually, they were never together and my dad passed away a couple of months ago.”

  “Damn. Sorry to hear that. Were you and your dad close?”

  “No, not at all.”

  “Yeah, I was close with my dad. My whole family is close. We do everything together. We go to plays, bowling, and restaurants all the time. Maybe one day you can meet them.”

  “Yeah, maybe,” I said as we finished the second part of our date.

  Over the next hour, Dre didn’t look at his cell phone. I learned that he was thirty and had a construction and a remodeling business with his best friend Syeed. Our conversation was a lot more serious and interesting than earlier. Dre talked a lot about his business goals and how he wanted to expand his company. I listened as he became more and more interesting. He paid for our meal, and he began walking me toward my car.

  “You not ready to go in, are you? Let’s go to this lounge that I like, not too far from here.”

  I looked down at my watch—it was only ten-thirty. “I guess I can stay out a little longer.” We turned around and began walking toward his car. We walked about three blocks and still didn’t reach his car. I was tired and the heels I was wearing weren’t meant to be worn for long walks. “How far did you park?”

  “Right up here. It’s only a few more blocks. Come on,” Dre said as we approached an intersection. He attempted to be romantic and hold my hand as we crossed the street. I snatched my hand away and the moment I did, I almost got hit by a car. Dre pulled me out of the street and said, “See, you being mean and look…you were about to get hit.” He grabbed my hand again and raised it up to his mouth and gave it a kiss. I didn’t want to get hit by a car, so I let him hold my hand until we reached his car.

  We drove a few miles and parked in the garage adjacent to the lounge. We walked across the street to the Red Sky Lounge. It was a nice place I had heard about but had never been to. It had art deco décor, with a half-circle bar, zigzag mirrors, and a red twinkling-star ceiling. We had a seat at a little table surrounding the small dance floor. It was semi-packed. There was a mixture of people, and the live band was playing Sade songs. Dre went to the bar and ordered two cranberry and Belvederes. He came back to the table looking better than when he walked away. I could see myself starting to like him. And though I shouldn’t have been drinking after what I’d been through, I figured, what the hell.

  “So, Nicole, what are you looking for now? Are you dating to date, or trying to settle down?”

  I was a little taken aback by his directness and I really didn’t know how to answer him. “I don’t know. How about you?” I asked as I flipped the question back at him.

  “You know what? I do want to be in a relationship. I like having someone special in my life. So, again…how about you?”

  “I don’t know. I’m just living. Whatever happens, happens. I feel like if I meet somebody I like and it is meant to be, it will be.”

  “So, do you like me?”

  “A little.” I smiled as the Belvedere crept up on me. I had taken only a few sips of my drink, but I guess it was affecting me because I didn’t eat that much and I hadn’t drunk in awhile. I was a little tipsy, but I didn’t let him see it.

  At the end of our date I didn’t want it to be over. We did a one-eighty. He had already asked me to go out next weekend. He opened my door and helped me step into the truck. I reached over and opened his door for him. He started the truck and turned on his radio.

  “So, did you have a good time?” he asked as he leaned into me.

  “Yeah, I really did,” I said, and then he tenderly pulled my face closer to his. Our lips connected and he began kissing me. His lips were moist and supple, but I still tried to pull away. Dre wouldn’t allow me to budge. Every time I moved away, he moved in closer. He continued to passionately kiss me all over my face and neck. With each kiss I went from doubt to certainty. Then I remembered we were sitting in his car in the middle of a public parking lot. I’m a grown woman and didn’t like the idea of kissing outside. “We have to stop. Can’t people see in here?”

  “No, relax, my windows are tinted. Nobody can see us in this truck,” he said as he kissed my neck, and his hands were exploring my breasts. I couldn’t stop him. I didn’t really want to. He lifted me up and scooted me to the backseat of his Crew Max truck. I felt moisture beginning to flow from my insides, and at that exact moment, I felt his fingers working to unzip my zipper. Before I knew it, he glided my pants off and his head was in my lap. He began kissing me on my stomach and hips. Then his kisses came closer to my feminine region. I squirmed a little as his lips landed softly between my legs. He slowly glided his tongue in and out of my pulsating interior. If it didn’t feel so good, I would have told him to stop. I still couldn’t get over the fact that we were in his truck. I looked at him as he gave me pleasure. He was in a semi-crouched position.

  “Please stop. You doing something to me,” I said as he continuously did what he wanted to do with my body. We were in an erotic zone, but I couldn’t help but think that somebody might see us. Out of the corner of my eye I saw a group of people walking past. I pushed him up. “Can’t they see in here?”

  “No.” He proved it by waving his hand at the people walking past. Oblivious to the sex show taking place inside the truck, they went on about their business without so much as turning their heads in our direction.

  Dre went back to pleasuring me, and this time I didn’t stop him. He gave every fragment of my body an orgasmic eruption. It was the longest, strongest climax I ever had. I sat back, dazed and a little confused when it was over. Dre grabbed a condom out of the glove compartment. He ripped the package open with his mouth, and threw the wrapper on the floor. He took off his jeans, boxers, and shirt. Then he placed his erection into my center, as I lay flat, with my legs open and welcoming. His body plunged inside me, thrusting hard and deep, forcing my head to bump up and down, banging against his camel-colored, soft leather interior. I felt like I couldn’t breathe. All I could do was moan with excitement until he exploded.

  How do you go from I hate you to I think I love you? We both were quiet as we slipped our clothes back on and climbed back to the front seats. Dre dropped me off at my car and walked me to my door. I kissed him good night and watched him drive away. I had no regrets—he gave me exactly what I needed.

  CHAPTER 11

  Ernest didn’t have cancer, but just the thought that he might have, scared my mom some. She had been trying to be more compassionate. But it was just not working for her very well. Her compassion came off as her acting strange. She was trying to be extra nice. She’d been calling me throughout the day to tell me she loves me. She even asked me if I wanted to go to the movies and have a girls’ day out. I told her no, I was too busy working, I didn’t have time.

  She was downstairs cleaning out the dining room, preparing to make another trip to the Goodwill. It was her fourth trip this week. She read somewhere that you can’t receive unless you give, and since she always wanted more, she was doing her part by giving away all the stuff she didn’t want or need.

  “You sure you don’t have anything else?” Lolo yelled up the steps.

  “No, that’s it, Mom,” I said as I examined my closet.

  As soon as my mother left, Ernest called my name. I ran to the top of the steps to see what he wanted. “You need something, Ernest?”

  “No, somebody’s at the door for you,” he said, coughing.

  “Who?”

  “Some woman. She said she had something important to talk to you about.”

  What woman? I thought. Then it dawned on me. Oh shit, Theresa. How did she find me? I’m not dating Malcolm anymore, so what does she want with me? Irritated, I came down the stairs and peeped out the window. All I could see was a woman with a lot of hair, dressed in a black leather jacket. I couldn’t get a good look at her face. I didn’t want to go to the door. But I knew she wouldn’t go away if I didn’t. I
nervously opened the door. She stared up at me. She kind of favored me, just a little chunkier. That’s why Malcolm loved me so much, because I was a skinnier version of his wife.

  “Are you Nicole Edwards?” she asked. Should I answer her? I wondered. She was clutching this green leather bag. That’s where she probably was storing her gun or whatever she was going to use to hurt me. As soon as she pulls out the gun I am going to duck and then run in the house and call the police.

  “Yes, I am Nicole Edwards. Who wants to know?”

  “Candice Hawk. I think I am your sister. Is Raymond Hawk your father?”

  “My sister! My sister,” I repeated as my heart pounded fast. I held my chest. She had no idea. “Yes, Raymond was my father.”

  “I saw you at the funeral and I told myself that it just can’t be, but when you broke down I knew it was you. I tried to find you that day, but I couldn’t. You must have left.”

  “I did. I went into the bathroom.”

  “Oh, well I didn’t see you anywhere outside. But I just had this feeling after I saw you. When we were growing up, Ray always used to tell me we had a sister—he said that you had another mother. And when we were little y’all came to our old house in south Philly. I never believed him, because I had asked my mom about it and she acted like she didn’t know what I was talking about. Then about a week ago, she finally admitted it and gave me your name.”

  “She did?”

  “But you were so hard to find. You weren’t on Facebook or MySpace. So, I hired a private investigator. It was hard to do all this because I don’t live in Philly anymore. But I found you.” As she spoke, tears streamed down my face. I couldn’t believe she had gone through so much to find me. She started crying and then I started crying even harder. She reached out and hugged me. “I’m sorry if I upset you.”

  “No, it’s just that I am so surprised.”

  “Me, too. I was shocked when the private investigator gave me the information. As soon as I found out where you lived, I drove right over here. That’s my boyfriend in the car. He thought I was crazy,” she said as she pointed to a car parked several doors down. “He looks like he is getting antsy. We have a long drive home, so I’m going to leave. But I just had to meet you. Is it okay if I call you and keep in touch?”