Crush

by Lovely, Lutishia; Grant, Michele; Rax, Cydney

  “Did you hear me ask you a question or are you just ignoring me?” she asked, unable to keep the fight inside that was ready to burst open.

  “I beg your pardon?” he asked as they found their seats.

  “Did you find anything interesting while you were in the team shop?”

  “Ha.” He laughed and blushed. “I guess you could say that.”

  “But what are you saying? That’s what I want to know.”

  Wendell gave her a puzzled look and leaned toward her. “You’ll never guess what happened. I-I saw”—he gulped—“Faye Luddington.”

  “Her?”

  He casually shrugged. “I was so surprised to see Faye. She said she actually first noticed me—us—on the kiss cam. She fussed at me like she didn’t appreciate me forgetting her so fast and getting a new girlfriend. That’s what she said. Can you believe that?”

  I don’t want to believe that, Lorraine thought.

  “How did you respond?”

  “Told her I was single, you were just my co-worker—”

  “Just a co-worker,” Lorraine snapped.

  “Hey, aren’t you about raw truth?”

  That stung. “Man, you have a lot of nerve.”

  “Unless you’re screaming for the Rockets I’d advise you not to raise your voice. We are both adults and I think we can manage talking in a reasonable tone. We can do this.”

  She nodded and calmed down, not appreciating his attitude, but also reluctant to make a scene. “What else happened?”

  “Um, she gave me her new number. Told me to call.”

  “And I guess you’ll be calling her?”

  “I guess, shoot, I dunno.”

  “If you don’t know who does?”

  “It’s been a while since we’ve talked. It’ll be good to catch up.”

  “Hmm, funny how she happened to show up at the game tonight,” Lorraine said, trying to make light of the situation. “I guess that’s what happens when we’re always thinking about someone, talking about ’em. Sometimes they appear magically out of nowhere, huh, Wendell?”

  “I guess,” he said and turned away from her to look up at the big game monitor.

  8

  She Has Nothing on Me

  As long as man is born with a penis, a woman can never truly exhale. Why? Men are excellent liars . . . because even though they’re pros at hiding their true character when you first meet them, who they truly are will eventually be revealed. Think Tiger Woods (he’s a cheetah and he’s lion); Jesse James (the “Decepticon” who lucked out and married Sandra Bullock); Mark Sanford the governor of South Carolina, who was foolishly in love with a soul mate who (surprise, surprise) wasn’t his wife; and the list continues.

  These were the words written by Lorraine in a journal that she kept; periodically she’d be inspired to jot down her thoughts, especially when she was having a tough day and wanted to try to understand and work through her emotions. Today was one of those days. She and Wendell hadn’t held a personal conversation since they attended the Rockets game a couple weeks ago. That bothered her. It pissed her off, actually. She didn’t know what to do about it.

  She wiped her mouth with a white floral napkin that she’d packed in her lunch bag. She’d just finished munching on a tuna sandwich and some salty potato chips that she brought from home that morning. She silently sat in her office sipping on a bottle of water while she figured out what to do with the remaining thirty minutes of her lunch break. That’s when she retrieved her journal from her briefcase and wrote wherever her heart took her.

  She’d gotten writer’s block and couldn’t figure out what to write next when Natalie popped her head inside her doorway.

  “How are things going with you and your boy?”

  “Men will be men.”

  “Excuse me, but I thought the saying was ‘boys will be boys.’ ”

  “Tomato, tomato. Same difference.”

  “Hey,” Natalie said and pulled up a chair to sit close to Lorraine. “Something bad must’ve happened. Usually you’re grinning and acting giggly about the great Houston.” “Houston” was the weak code name that Lorraine suggested she and Natalie use to refer to Wendell whenever they discussed him in the workplace.

  “Things change.”

  “That fast?”

  “It’s like this. We went on a date. We were both having a good time until another woman caught his eye. Natalie, I can’t stand acting jealous and possessive so I held in my emotions as best as I could. But I don’t want to be caught up in a man who’s still caught up in someone he’s had a crush on. That’s not raising the standard.”

  “Maybe Houston doesn’t know how you really feel because you’re still accepting phone calls from Dallas.”

  “Hmm, you think he even notices?”

  “Hell yeah. How many times have you taken Dallas’s calls in private?”

  “Every time.”

  “See there. No wonder Houston is keeping his options open. You’re giving the man mixed signals.”

  “It’s not like we’ve ever truly discussed our feelings for one another. I think that would be premature. And I am trying to get to know him. Day by day. Conversation by conversation.”

  “And that’s a good idea. I think you’re so vulnerable right now with this Dallas situation. Dallas keeps you confused.”

  “Damn Dallas. Damn J. R.”

  “You’re silly. Damn yourself. If you really wanted to get rid of your ex, you could. All you need to do is change your cell number.”

  “I already looked into that. It costs thirty bucks.”

  “Girl, you can’t afford to not pay the fee.”

  “I just don’t want to go through all the trouble of getting a number changed that I’ve had since I was eighteen.”

  “Excuses, excuses.”

  Lorraine and Natalie heard someone walking down the hallway and changed the subject to how darned expensive it was to maintain a decent hairstyle and cute nails.

  “Do we do this for ourselves or for the opposite sex?”

  “I don’t know why you spend money to look cute. But I want to look good for myself and for my guy. Lately I’ve barely been in the mood to comb my hair.”

  “Not good, Lorraine. I don’t care what you’re going through in your love life, you gotta take care of Lorraine for Lorraine. A man shouldn’t be your incentive for being the best you can be, inside and outside.”

  “Girl, you’re so right.” Lorraine swallowed deeply and felt ashamed. Her mother had tried to instill in her the necessity of being strong and handling her business. She wanted Lorraine to have a great life no matter what.

  “ ‘Rain or shine’ is what my mother told me when it comes to men,” Lorraine explained to Natalie. “She said that it’s in a woman’s best interests to keep on keeping on no matter what’s going on in her love life, because while you’re lying up in bed acting depressed and hurting your body by eating a gallon of chocolate chip ice cream, a man is going about his business and not worrying about you. Mama’s right. I have to move on. If Houston is into another woman, I can’t be into him.”

  “It seemed you-all made a great couple. It’s a shame, too, because you’d think that a man of Houston’s caliber would act a little more mature and decisive.”

  “I guess we were wrong about him. Being wrong scares me. I’m starting to question my judgment, Nat.”

  “Don’t beat yourself up about one little error. We all make mistakes. Just gotta learn.” Natalie glanced at her Timex. “Anyway, I need to leave work now. My apartment complex called. Some pipes burst and they advised me to come get my stuff. I live on the first floor, unfortunately,” she added. “ And no one else is home to do the dirty work.”

  “Sorry to hear that. I hope you can retrieve your things before they get all messed up.”

  “Yeah, I’m waiting on a cab. My hooptie is in the shop. I wish taxi man would hurry up and get here already. I can barely afford the fifty bucks it’s going to cost for the long
drive home.”

  “Oh, did you want me to drop you off? I can put in for an hour of emergency vacation and get you there quicker than a cab.”

  “What? Um, no, it’s cool. I don’t want to bother you.”

  “You sure? I want to see where you live anyway.”

  “No, Lorraine, don’t worry about me. I’ll be fine. You need to figure out your love life, all right?”

  Natalie thanked her for the offer. As soon as she left, Wendell strolled into the office, walking slowly with his jacket slung over his shoulder and grinning.

  “Wendell, are you serious? Since when don’t you have time for me?” Lorraine heard the crackling voice of a female coming through Wendell’s cell phone. He was holding a conversation on speakerphone. Lorraine thought that was sooo rude.

  “I don’t have time because all my free time is spent with my woman,” he told the lady.

  “What woman? That stick-figure chick you took to the Rockets game? Please tell me you’re pulling my leg.”

  Lorraine’s eyes widened. Wendell held up a finger at her.

  “Come on, Faye. You know I’m not pulling your leg. That so-called stick figure is the best woman I know right now. We have a good time together.”

  “Really?” Faye asked in a shaky voice. “I’m having a hard time figuring out what you saw in her. Shit. She has nothing on me. And you know it, Wendell. I’m Faye fucking Luddington.” She laughed like she couldn’t believe it herself. “I’m the baddest bitch in the game.”

  “Not trying to take nothing away from you, but what I have is even better.”

  “Negro, please. Now I know you’re lying. It’s cool, though,” Faye said, her voice loudly popping through the phone. “I tell you one thing. You are dating beneath you. I could look at the chick and tell she’s not your type.”

  Lorraine rose to her feet and took a giant leap toward Wendell. He waved at her to sit down.

  “What could you tell about her?”

  “Ha! Her shoes were scruffy looking. Looks like she puts her makeup on in the dark. Her T-shirt was wrinkled like she sleeps in her clothes. And the girl’s weave was through.”

  “Um, correction. That’s not a weave. My lady was born with her own hair, unlike some people,” Wendell replied. “Everything she has, she was born with.” He chuckled.

  “You’re actually defending that puny bitch over me? You must be out of your damn mind.”

  “Now, Faye, don’t be like that,” he said, sounding mad instead of amused. “Lorraine is not the b-word in any shape, form, or fashion.”

  Lorraine leaped to her feet again, her face pleading with Wendell to let her address Faye’s derogatory comments.

  “Yeah, well, like we discussed in the Toyota Center,” Faye said, “don’t forget, I’m on the sandcastle competition for my firm. And I’ll be checking out your new woman up close. And if I find out she’s not better than me, which I already know she isn’t, be prepared to hear me tell you about yourself. And you know I will.” Faye’s voice grew softer. “It’s just hard for me to accept this, because I have a need to be the only woman in your bed, sweetie. You know what I mean?”

  “No, I didn’t know, Faye. Hmm. Too bad you’re taking a sudden interest in a brother. Bad timing. I never wait around for a woman. If she’s feeling me she better let me know ASAP because I got a nice, long waiting list, if you know what I mean.”

  “Hmm, I know you ought to place me at the top of your so-called list. For real. Anyway, let me go. I’m sure your little girlfriend is hovering somewhere nearby like a helicopter passing over the ghetto. She looks like the insecure type who constantly spies on her man. Good luck with that one.” Faye hung up.

  Lorraine pounced on Wendell immediately. “What in the hell was that about?”

  “Calm down.”

  “Calm down my ass. You are lying to a woman I don’t even know. And she’s lying on me; she couldn’t even see my shoes.”

  “Faye’s dramatic like that. Ignore her.”

  “Ignore her? I don’t appreciate you letting her talk about me as if I wasn’t in the room. And why’d you tell her all that mess about us? You know how I feel about stuff like that.”

  “You look so cute when you’re mad.”

  “This isn’t about how I look. Why’d you let this happen?”

  “You’re so adorable, even sensual.” He made kissing noises and leaned in.

  “Stop avoiding my questions. You act just like—”

  “Your ex boy?” Wendell sobered up. “Are you trying to replace him with me? C’mon, Lorraine, now’s your time to tell me what’s up!”

  “Ugh!” She spun around and folded her arms. She felt afraid. Confused. Was Wendell playing games? If so, she wanted no part of it.

  “Did you hear me ask you some questions, Ms. Eafford? I’m waiting.”

  He sat on the edge of her desk and folded his arms.

  “I think the burden of answering lies with you. Explain to me why you held a conversation in which I am the topic on your speakerphone. You did it on purpose, didn’t you?”

  “Yeah.”

  “I’m not a toy.”

  “I know that.”

  “Apparently you don’t.”

  “You want the truth? It’s like this. You are a cool chick. I enjoy hanging out with you. I can see myself doing it again. We’re going to do it again. Soon. Tonight.”

  “Wendell—”

  “No, really. Faye and me: Hey, let’s face it. She’d walk all over me. But you’d walk right beside me. I need that type of woman.”

  “Wendell, don’t play. Please,” Lorraine begged. She couldn’t believe they were having this conversation. She desired to get closer to him, but not like this. Yes, she felt drawn to him even more. The way he was acting infuriated yet intrigued her. He had more layers than she originally thought.

  “Lorraine, I swear I’m not playing. We’ll meet tonight. At seven. Let’s do this.”

  Wendell came and stood close to Lorraine, giving her a tender and apologetic look. He enfolded her in his arms, pulling her thin frame against his chest. She resisted him but he held on tighter. Being hugged by Wendell felt soothing, yet disturbing. She gave in and rested her head against his chest. Right then, she didn’t care if anyone saw them. Although she didn’t appreciate what had gone down with Wendell and Faye, she momentarily forgot how angry it made her feel. Instead, she relaxed and savored how good it felt to be in this man’s arms. Comforting. Warm. Loving.

  Wendell said nothing as he embraced Lorraine and relished the feeling of her breasts against him. When he felt the beating of her heart calm down, he released her, told her he’d see her later. He busied himself with work for the rest of the day.

  At exactly seven o’clock that evening, Wendell called. He informed her that he’d ordered her chicken pesto pasta, rosemary roasted potatoes, broccoli, and a bottle of white zinfandel from La Madeleine. He’d arranged for her dinner to be delivered to her apartment.

  “How’d you know my home address?”

  “I know, Lorraine.”

  He apologized for not being able to make it in time to break bread with her, but said he’d be over after eleven. He promised to call her thirty minutes before coming by. A few minutes before twelve, he arrived at her place. He stepped inside the foyer for a few minutes, then suggested they leave. He got Lorraine situated in a limo that he rented and they took off. Wendell asked the limo driver to start off driving around the Reliant Park area. Then he steered the driver north on Main Street so they could pass the Texas Medical Center, Hermann Park, the Museum District.

  “Have you ever been on a midnight drive before?”

  “I’ve never been in a limo before,” she said in a hushed tone.

  “Good.”

  They ended up downtown. Lights streaming through the windows of several skyscrapers illuminated the sky. Few could be seen on the streets. After he asked the driver to park, he insisted they get out of the vehicle. Wendell clasped Lorraine’s hand i
n his. They ambled down Dallas Street and passed by the Houston Pavilions, a mixed-use commercial development with tenants such as Lucky Strike, Books-A-Million, and McCormick & Schmick’s, a seafood restaurant Lorraine had always wanted to try, and the House of Blues.

  “This is nuts, Wendell,” she finally blurted to him. But she had a contented smile on her face. Wendell made her feel so protected and important. For that moment he made her feel like the center of his universe.

  “I’m trying to build something, here.”

  “Like what?”

  “Trust.”

  “Hmm.”

  They continued to stroll hand in hand down Main Street and stopped in front of a display window of the ten-story Macy’s. This historic building was the only free-standing central business district department store located in the Southern United States.

  Wendell cleared his throat and squeezed Lorraine’s hand. “Tell me something. Which artists would you name as the greatest singers ever?”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “Building something. Now answer.”

  “Oh okay.” She blushed. “Well, if we’re talking about the greatest of the greats, you gotta place Marvin Gaye on the list.”

  “Can’t deny that.” Wendell lit up. “His voice was like melted butter.”

  “Smooth, sexy, haunting, soulful. The world truly misses his talent.”

  “Thank God for sampling, huh? What other singers are on your list?”

  “Hmm, gotta go with Sade; the woman is a genius.”

  “Oh hell no. Her songs last way too long.”

  “Why do you say that?”

  “You can turn on the CD player. Pick a Sade song. Get in your car. Go grocery shopping. Come back home. And that same song will still be playing. It’s like damn.”

  “Ha, that doesn’t mean she can’t sing.”

  “Does too.”

  “That’s wrong. Soo wrong.”

  “Not wrong. I know music.”

  “Okay, Mr. Know-It-All. Who would you name?”

  “Whitney.”

  “No way. She’s lost her voice. It’ll never be the same again.”