Another Man Will

by Daaimah S. Poole

  “Oh, well, tell this dummy not to change the channel,” Mercedes stated.

  “Mimi, stop calling him out of his name. Both of you cut it out before I don’t take you school shopping and I take a nap instead.”

  The mall was busy with back-to-school traffic. I didn’t know about all the parents, but I was so happy. With the kids out of the house, I could get peace and would be able to think. Thankfully, Doug had sent some extra money this week, which would help cover some of the back-to-school bill. Mercedes was easy to shop for. I bought her two uniform shirts and three pairs of pants to start off with. Now, Brandon was different. He was entering high school and was going to be a little more challenging to clothe because of his husky size and big feet.

  At Foot Locker Brandon tried on a bunch of sneakers. He thought he wore a ten, but the salesman measured his foot and it turned out he had gone up another size since the beginning of the summer.

  “Mom, I want these.” I turned the shoe over and almost fainted at the $145.00 price tag. My budget was only $150.00 for them both.

  “How about these, Brandon?” I said, suggesting black Nikes that looked like they would last for a long time and conceal the dirt once they were older and were much cheaper.

  “No, Mom. I really like these. Can I get these in an eleven?” he asked the salesman.

  I didn’t want to pay $145.00 for one pair of sneakers, but I didn’t want Brandon to be the corny kid, either. I remembered how that felt, to want a certain look and hear my dad say, “I’m not buying that,” so I gave in. I would have to make the money up from another bill.

  I felt like I’d accomplished something. They had uniforms and sneakers, and I had enough money to pay the most important bill, which was shelter. And after I paid that, I wouldn’t have any money. Everything else would have to wait.

  A few lights away from the mall, my Chevy Malibu started making noise and smoking, and before I could pull it all the way over, it just gave out; steam was rising from the hood. Mercedes asked if we had run out of gas, and Brandon got out of the car and asked me to pop the hood, like he was a mechanic.

  “Boy, get in here. You don’t know what you are looking for.”

  “Yes, I do. I can push you out of the street.”

  “I can help him,” Mercedes said as she took her seat belt off and got out of the car.

  “Both of you, get back in the car.” It was embarrassing enough to have a car smoking on the side of the road. I didn’t need two kids pushing it. I got out and pulled out my cell phone and tried to think of someone who could help us. A tow truck driver pulled up next to us and asked if we needed a tow.

  “I’m not sure. How much is a tow?”

  “I can take you wherever you want to go for a flat fee of seventy-five, but before I tow you, do you know what’s wrong?”

  “No, it just gave out on me.”

  “Do you have a mechanic?”

  “ No.”

  “There is a shop not too far from here, and I can tow you there.”

  At the auto repair place, we had a seat and waited for the mechanic to come back with the results of my car’s diagnostic.

  “It’s your head gasket, and with parts and labor, it’s going to run you like four-fifty. Let me show you.” He walked me into the dark, oily garage and pointed to connected metal parts inside my open hood. “See right there? That’s your cylinder block, and that’s connected to the head gasket. You have water in your gas, and once the water’s in there, there’s a fifty-fifty chance your engine is going to go. Now, I would suggest you get a new engine, but then you are looking at about a thousand dollars, or just get the gasket fixed for four hundred dollars. If you decide to get it fixed, I can have it ready by this evening.”

  I needed my car, but I needed to pay my rent. But if a job called, I wouldn’t be able to get there if I didn’t have a car. I chose to get the car fixed and was going to have to get more money from somewhere.

  The car was fixed, but I needed rent money ASAP. I broke down and called Hector. I knew he would help me, but I was really angry with him and didn’t want to talk to him. I was sure that if he hadn’t opened his mouth, I wouldn’t be going through any of this. But he had said to call him if I needed anything, and I did.

  “Where you been, Yvette? Everything all right with you?”

  “No, not really. I have a lot going on right now.”

  “You know I’m here. What’s up?”

  “My ex didn’t give me my half of the money. He stole like twenty something thousand from me.”

  “Can’t you do something?” He was asking the same annoying question everyone had asked. I didn’t feel like going through the motions again.

  “No, Hector I can’t. If I could, I would. I’m calling you because I really need money.”

  “Like how much do you need?”

  I didn’t know what to say. I needed enough to pay my rent, storage, and buy food, but I knew he didn’t have that kind of money.

  “Uh, whatever you can give me.”

  “Come on, give me a number. Like, what you need? A couple hundred, five hundred? What?”

  “Five hundred is good.”

  “Okay. I have to stop at the bank after work. I’ll give you a call when I get off.”

  The next day I met Hector at a BP gas station near my old job. He was grinning hard when he gave me a hug and handed me a skinny white bank envelope.

  “Here, it’s only three hundred. I forgot I had loaned my brother some money.”

  “That’s cool. It will help,” I said, but I’d been counting on the entire five hundred.

  “I know you stressing, but when am I going to see you and my lady again? I need to feel you, Vette. I miss you and need that.” He didn’t know sex was the last thing on my mind. I couldn’t care less. “Let’s get a room.”

  “No, Hector. No offense, but I’m tired, stressed, and drained and don’t feel sexy.”

  “You need some of this; it will release all that stress.”

  “I’m sure it will, but I’m good right now. Listen, thanks for the money. I will call you.”

  I walked towards my car and left Hector at the gas station putting his fingers up to his ear like a phone, mouthing make sure you call me.

  CHAPTER 16

  Dana

  Tiffany was dragging me to a professional happy hour called Second Fridays. She claimed there were going to be distinguished gentlemen in attendance and said that I should get dolled up. I told her I was coming straight from work and wasn’t getting any better dressed. Whoever was going to be at this happy hour could take it or leave it. And I was glad I followed my instincts, because I would have been mad if I had got pretty for a bunch of women.

  It was the typical sixteen-to-one ratio. I saw it every time we would go out. There would always be a roomful of attractive professional black women huddled in groups, buying and sipping their own drinks, waiting, hoping, wishing for a half-decent man to approach them. Meanwhile, the few men in attendance would stand around, pretending to be gods, figuring out which women they wanted to pursue, since they had a large selection to choose from. And I guess we got chosen this time. Lucky us. Tiffany met a seemingly nice man. She told him she had a boyfriend, but that made him more interested. He asked us if we wanted to have a cocktail with him and his friend.

  I said no, but Tiffany said yes. So we met them at the Walnut Room, a lounge a few blocks from the Second Friday event. Tiffany’s new friend was keeping her attention, and I had to be her wing woman and babysit her new friend’s friend. His friend was not attractive at all. He was dressed well but I couldn’t see past his creature like features. I was already in a bad mood and didn’t care to exchange pleasantries with anyone. I ordered my own drink and had a seat.

  “So, what’s in your glass?” asked the friend’s friend.

  “Wine,” I answered very dryly.

  “Well, excuse me. Did I say something wrong?” He looked around, as if someone was going to answer him. “What�
��s your name?”

  “It’s Dana.”

  “Okay, Dana, you ain’t have to say it with such an attitude. I’m Leon.”

  “No, I don’t have an attitude. I guess I’m just a little tired. I came straight from work.”

  “Oh, okay. What kind of business?”

  “I’m in marketing.”

  “Oh, that’s cool. I thought y’all were nurses or something. Where did you go to school?” he asked.

  “Maryland Eastern Shore.”

  “I went to Lincoln. So you married? Divorced?”

  “Neither.”

  “How many kids do you have?”

  “None.”

  “No kids? That’s good,” he said, surprised. “How you manage that?”

  “Easy. It’s called birth control.” Where was Tiffany? I was becoming increasingly irritated.

  “Really, yeah Dana I think I like you. No kids, good shape. ’Cause I’m really getting tired of seeing these ugly chicks with big guts and bad shapes.”

  “Is that right?” He must not have looked in the mirror in a long time.

  “Yes, it is, but I like you. You’re relaxed and calm. I like that. I’m glad you are not a vulture like a lot of women out here. Most of the time these women be all over a good black man.”

  “A good black man,” I repeated almost choking.

  “Yeah, you know, desperate scavengers. Like all those chicks, at that second Friday. I mean of course it is way more of y’all than it is of us, but damn, give a brother some room to breathe.” He continued, “Most of the time I always have to say slow down, let me get to know you. I usually take them on one date and then they want to know if I can be their boyfriend. Then on the second date, they want to know my plans for marriage. I’ve seen so many women mess up really good relationships by talking about marriage,” he said, shaking his head and laughing to himself. “Or they want you to pay their bills, and I’m thinking, How were you paying your bills before you met me?”

  If anyone was trying to marry you, you should have probably said yes, I thought.

  “Plus, I have a few years before I settle down, anyway,” he continued.

  “How old are you?”

  “I’m thirty-eight. I probably get serious about forty or so. When I do it, I want to do it right. I’m trying to find a good girl that don’t mind spoiling and taking care of her man.”

  I couldn’t be hearing him right. He was thirty-eight and wanted someone to take care of him, and he had a few years before he would be ready to settle down. I was laughing so hard inside that it seeped out as a cough I couldn’t control. He had absolutely no reason to be conceited. I toyed with the idea of knocking down his ego, but I didn’t even have the energy. I just got up from the table and said, “Nice meeting you.”

  “Nice meeting me? What’s wrong? What happened?” he asked.

  I let him sit at the table and figure it out himself. Tiffany was still carrying on her conversation, but I tapped her and told her I was ready to leave. She said good-bye to her new friend and came running after me.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “Tiffany, I’m so tired of all these losers. I’m totally convinced there aren’t any good men out here. It is not us. It is them. Like, really, that man was none of that, and someone has him thinking he is a gift. He said he was happy I wasn’t a vulture.”

  “Hold up. A vulture?” She laughed.

  “Yes, all the women are all over him, trying to get with him.” I was walking so fast, and she was trying to keep up. “I’m not going to let these men continue to beat up my self-esteem. There is absolutely nothing wrong with me. I’m a professional with a home, a nice car, no children. I should be happily married or beating off men. I’m really getting tired of these horrible black men and their fucked-up egos. They want you to baby and coddle them. They don’t want a commitment and if you ask them about a relationship they’ll say ‘Oh, hell no, you trying to tie me down. I’m still in my prime.’ They think they are hot until their ass is, like, forty-five and nobody else wants them! That dude is crazy; he said he was looking for a good girl to spoil him. He must be on drugs, ugly fuck.”

  “That’s not true. All men are not the same. You just haven’t come across the right one. Me and Solomon are still new, but he is a good guy.”

  “Well, you need to keep a hold of him. All I know is you don’t see white women or Asian women going through all of this. And you know why? Because they are not dating crazy-ass, spoon-fed black men. I’m not patting anyone on the back and declaring him a good man because he is not the status quo. Because he has a good job and provides for his family. That’s what the hell you are supposed to do. I’m tired, Tiffany. I’m so tired of our men. I am not dating another ego tripping, backward thinking black man. Fuck them all. Fuck black men and all their bullshit. Fuck the black women that chase after them, acting like they are an extinct species. And fuck the horrible ones that think they are prize and ain’t. I’m not doing it anymore. Fuck black men, all of them. I’m going to date others from here on out.”

  “Well, if you feel that strongly, maybe you should try the other side,” Tiffany said, because she knew she couldn’t argue with me.

  “It is not a maybe—I am.”

  CHAPTER 17

  Crystal

  Kori’s cries awoke us. I got out of bed to grab her bottle. By the time I returned to the room, Rell was already next to the crib, patting her back. I picked her up and put her in my arms. He watched as I fed and burped her. I wondered how it made him feel to be awakened every night by a child that wasn’t his. Rell had really been a blessing in my life, especially since all the trash Kenneth and Syreeta were talking about me. I think I was starting to believe that no one was going to ever want me or accept me and my kids. I didn’t think it was possible to be this happy and feel this loved. I thought it was going to take me years to bounce back from Kenneth. Love must have come into my life, because I wasn’t looking. It really just came and wrapped its loving arms around me in the form of Rell and hadn’t let go.

  It had been a few weeks and we were still getting to know each other, but I could already say he treated me better than anyone I had ever met. It was like he gave me the same amount of love I gave him. He always told me how smart and beautiful I was, and didn’t judge me at all. He knew the story behind all my kids’ fathers, and he didn’t care. He thought they were all fools for passing me by. I loved the little things and big things about him. Like the other day he was at the sneaker store, and he asked me what size the kids wore and brought them all sneakers. And he paid my mortgage this month, and he didn’t even live here. I told him not to, because the job hadn’t called him yet and it was not even like he had money coming in. He was spending what he had left from the military on us.

  He was a good dude with a good heart, and that was worth a lot. I kept telling myself, Something is going to happen. I had never had a relationship go this well. I hoped I didn’t mess it up, like I somehow always did.

  My boo bear was watching his ESPN, and I was ironing and planning what everyone was going to wear for the week. While it was on my mind, I called my mom to check on her.

  “Mom, what are you doing?”

  “No, the question is what are you doing? I want to discuss this man you have around the kids.”

  “Huh?” I looked at Rell and walked out of the bedroom. “Mom, what are you talking about?”

  “I hear you have a man staying over there with you, and Kori’s not even six months yet, and he doesn’t even have a job, and your father and I are upset.”

  “Mom, that’s not true.”

  “Well, I sure hope it’s not, because I know you more responsible than that, because the last thing you need is to get pregnant again.”

  “Mommy, I’m going to call you back.”

  I already knew who told my mom about Rell. I called Dana and when she answered I tried not to raise my voice so Rell wouldn’t hear me in the bedroom.

  “Hey, Dana. For st
arters, I think you should start worrying about your own life, and not mine.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “You know what? I don’t appreciate you telling Mommy and Daddy about anything that happens in my household. What I want them to know, I will tell them myself.”

  “I didn’t say anything about you having a boyfriend. Mommy asked me.”

  “Dana, I know you said something. You’ve been a snitch your whole life. I don’t need you to judge me.”

  “I’m not judging you. I just don’t understand how a man without a job can help you. I just want the best for you and those kids, and I want you to stop making the same mistakes over and over again.”

  “You know what? Please Dana, whatever choices I make in my life—and who I decide to make them with—are none of your concern. Okay? So I would appreciate it if next time you just mind your own business and worry about your own affairs.”

  “Don’t say anything when you got a big belly and are sitting alone in the labor room again. Don’t call me, because I don’t have time to keep going to court with you.”

  “I won’t ever call you, bitch,” I shouted and hung up on Dana.

  Rell walked into the hallway. “What’s wrong?”

  “My sister and mother are talking a lot of crap.”

  “Like what?”

  “Like I shouldn’t have anyone around the kids, and you don’t have a job and you going to use me, get me pregnant, and leave me.”

  “Do you think that?”

  “ No.”

  “Well, I’m not going anywhere.”

  “I know you’re not, Rell.”

  It was hours later, and I still was thinking about the conversation I had with my mom. Everyone was asleep; the house was quiet except for the sound of the television. I got out of the bed and walked to the bathroom. Rell turned over and asked what I was doing up.

  “Just turning off the television and going to the bathroom.”

  “We need to talk, Crystal. I don’t want you to get in any fights with your family over me.”

  “Rell, it’s no big deal. They trip about every guy I date.”