by Elaine Allen
But that was another time.
“No, I’m not, Tony.”
He stops pacing and stoops down in front of me and takes my hands into his and kisses them.
“Can you honestly tell me that after all we’ve had, you don’t feel anything?”
I snatch my hand away from him quick. I have to get up. I want to be standing when I give him his answer. “I felt a lot of things a month ago, like when I found a bunch of your things in my closet or when I looked at the photos of you and I hugged up.” I look up at him because this was something he needed to understand. “I felt some type of way that you didn’t want forever with me.” I stand still and then I shrug. “Now, I’m over it. I threw your shit in the trash and burnt the pictures, and I also realized that you're not the person I want to spend my forever with.”
This is the last thing he wants to hear, and I can see that he’s not taking the news well. “So, you don't miss me?” His voice is angry and impatient. Tony lacks the logic to see that this is all his fault. And that's exactly what I want to scream at him.
“Not enough to forgive you and take you back. I’m happy with myself and I haven't been that way in a while. Not even when I was with you.”
He completely ignores my answer. “Are you going out with the guy you came to Mike's party with?”
“We’re friends, Tony. That’s all I’m going to say.” He knew what type of friends kept. Well, the type I used to keep. I guess that's why he made this unreasonable trip to my home at three am. This man is jealous and very possessive.
“You fuckin' him?!” he demands.
He’s frustrated now because I'm not as easily persuaded as I’d been in the past. Rest assured that it’s not going to happen. Tony is the last man I need right now. I’d be damned if I put myself through that again.
Our relationship was toxic. Last year, I fucked his car up; busted out all his windows, bleached and cut up his clothes, and we were back together in less than a couple of months. I can’t get dragged back into anything so destructive just for the sake of saying I have someone. We’re not right for one another.
“Anthony, what we had worked while it lasted, but it's over and I've accepted that. I think that you need to do the same.”
“I love you but I'ma leave because I wanna give you a little more time to think things through.”
As if I need any more time. It's funny that he seems to forget that I’ve had two months to think. “I'm not going to change my mind, but I do want you to explain to me why you think it's okay for you to try and put my life on hold time after time to pursue whatever it is that you want. It's always been what you wanted. I did every fuckin' thing possible to keep you happy even when I was sufferrin' ‘cause I knew that you didn't give a shit about me. You made it seem sweet ‘bout how you never wanted me to be with anybody else and never once considered that I felt the same.”
“Come on now, Lieas, let’s be real. You know that I always get what I want,” he warned, standing up, his whole six feet three inches of him trying to intimidate me.
I lick my lips. “You don’t want me, Tony,” I say as I walk over to the door. I open it up and continue, “If you did, you wouldn't have let me go.”
Three
June 2002
Alieas
The scale read two hundred and twenty-four pounds today after my morning workout. So far, I've lost a good thirty pounds since I began my get-healthy workout regimen. I’m proud of myself and kind of happy that when I finally get to my goal of one-eighty-five, I’m going to have to go on a huge shopping spree.
“You should eat something and go get washed,” my mother says as she cleans the kitchen counter of the breakfast she, my father, and lil' Gray have just eaten. I'm still dressed in my sweats and sneakers. She hates for me to look non-feminine.
“I ate before I worked out, and I am about to get dressed.”
Even though I have my own apartment, I like to spend at least one weekend a month at home with my parents. I'm such a spoiled baby. Anyway, they have a home gym that is absolutely worth the visit.
“Tyree called this morning; he said that Nadia and Pat are having the initial fittings for bridesmaid gowns. I don't think that you're ready to get fitted for yours.”
“Ma! What is that supposed to mean?”
“Lieas, I’m just saying that you still have a good thirty more pounds to go before December gets here. Stop being so sensitive.”
Sensitive my ass. “Whatever, Ma, you always got jokes.”
“Never. Trina called too; she said to remind you that you need to go with her to pick up something for Mama."
"God, I almost forgot. Nana wants us to go to some antique store to pick up this hairpin that she thinks Bri will love. She wants her to use it as her ‘something old’. Any other messages?’ I ask, ‘cause my mom will give them one-by-one, and we'll end up having a separate conversation for each.
“Bri and Ty are coming over for dinner tomorrow after church. Do you plan on going to church tomorrow?”
I roll my eyes. I’m been making a mental note to look for a new church home. My church pulled a coup on my pastor and he was voted out my freshman year of college. I haven’t been feeling them ever since. I loved Pastor Furlow so my allegiances lay with him but he doesn’t have a permanent church home. Combine that with the fact that I love sleeping in on Sundays so I’m usually missing her.
I can feel the heat of my mother’s stare so I say, “I'll be here.”
“Good. There's one more thing; your father and I have a nice young man we’d like for you to meet. We’ve planned a small dinner party for next week or so and have invited the young man and his family,’ my mother tells me as I swallow down half of liter of water.
I don’t know who told my parents that I needed help with my love life but every since my breakup with Tony. They've been like a non-stop dating service. Well, my mother at least. She wants me to find someone so badly. My dad is like, ‘focus on building yourself up. “How he look?”
“He's alright.”
“That’s exactly why I can find my own man.” She doesn’t seem to think that looks are that important.
“Hmm,” she sighs. “What was wrong with Robert?” she asks me. She has that tone that I know means that I am being unreasonably picky. In her eyes, Robert would have made the perfect son-in-law and the perfect father of my children. His being a future black surgeon may have had something to do with it.
“He was stuck up and conceited—“
“Like you're not,” she interrupts.
“The whole time during dinner, he talked about himself.”
“Alieas, I’ve heard you do the same exact thing.”
“That’s when I’m trying to get rid of a guy I don't like.” There was no question of if he was trying to do the same.
“He's going to be a surgeon, girl. There are some things that I'm sure can be overlooked,” she stresses.
“I overlooked the fact that he wasn’t cute.”
My mother gasps and holds her breath. “I thought that his looks were acceptable.”
“I know. That's the sad thing and the reason you won't be hooking me up anymore.”
“Well, you sure act like you don't want to get married anytime soon. You're twenty-two and you’ll be an old maid if you don’t stop being so nitpicky.” Don't you want some of what all your friends are experiencing?"
Old maid? I roll my eyes. My mom can be dramatic at times. She and my father have been married for twenty-seven years. Their relationship is more than half the reason I want to get married. I see what my parents have, and I want it and I'm not going to accept anything less. My maternal grandmother was married at twenty-five and her mother before her was married at fifteen and had nine children. My mother’s expectation of me is for me to secure the husband and have the children and then kind of worry about everything else.
“Ma, I just got out of a relationship. I have other things going on in my life. I love my job and I'm losing
this weight.” I've tried to explain time after time that I like the way things are right now. For a time, I'm just going to focus on me.
“My dream man will come. Who knows; he could be right around the corner,” I say to make her happy.
An hour later while sitting on the porch with lil' Gray resting on my lap and my parents nestled together on the swing with my father reading something from a magazine to my mother, I notice a grey Ford Explorer riding by.
Damn, I didn't get a good look at the cutie driving, but I’m wishing I had. I don't need to wish that much because he stops a couple houses up and begins to back up until he was in front of the house. Both of my parents look at each other and then accusingly at me. I shrug; I don't know who it is. At least I didn't think I did.
The guy, Carter, I’d met three weeks before gets out of the Explorer and is now walking toward the house. My mother raises her brow; Carter is very handsome, so naturally, she approves of his outward physical appearance.
“Hi, Mr. and Mrs. Stiles,” he addresses my parents, leaving me out.
“Hello, young man,” my mother happily replies. My father doesn’t say a thing; Lil’ Gray smiles and sends a cheerful, ‘hi’.
“You probably don’t remember me, but I'm Carter Reed and I went to school with Grayson, and I just recently met your daughter,” he says to them while looking at me. Nicole is smiling her ass off 'cause she charmed by his fine ass. My father is, as usual, unaffected.
“Your face looks familiar,” my mother lies. She can’t remember him from like ten years ago.
“Umm, what are you doing around here?” I ask him.
“Checking out a property for a kitchen remodel,” he replies.
I feel like I need to explain to him why I hadn't called him. He’d left a couple messages on my cell, but I’d ignored them. I'm up in an instant and putting Gray down so I can talk to him. I don't want to talk to him in front of my parents, so we walk down a little and he takes my hands in his like he had the first day we met.
“Why didn’t you ever call back?” he begins.
There is no reason to beat around the bush so I tell him straight out, “I wasn't going to.”
“I thought that we agreed that you were,” he disagrees.
“No, we agreed that you definitely were going to call me and you did,” I tell him, looking up the couple inches to his face.
“This some kind of game you running on people?”
“No, I was actually looking forward to getting to know you better.”
“Then why didn’t you return any of my calls?” he presses.
“Because I have this thing—”
“What thing?” he inquires, stopping me.
“I thought that it was rude and very stereotypical of you to have said that I looked really pretty and that I carried myself well for a ‘big girl’.”
Carter watches me confused. “I offended you?”
“In a way, yes. I thought that maybe you were one of those guys who thinks he’s doing a ‘big girl’ a favor if he gives her the time of day. And frankly, I’m too good for that.”
“It wasn’t like that at all. I’m attracted to you and excuse the term, but I love women with some meat on her bones. You look good and I just thought that I was letting you know it.”
“By saying, ‘You look good for a big girl’, it’s like big girls don’t look good all the time. Do you tell skinny girls that they look good to be thin? I just think that men should watch what they say before they say it.” By this time, he’d taken his hands off mine and had put them in his back pocket.
“You could have told me this over the phone or to my face the day we met. Three weeks have gone by, and we could’ve had something by now. I thought that you were interested.”
I smile. “Oh, I was.”
“Good, ‘cause so was I,” he says, inching closer to me.
Okay. I'm so done. Fuck the big girl comment. I’ve got to have him.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Carter
Damn, I really mucked that up. I remember the change in her when I think back on it. That cold splash of water when I thought I was macking. And she had already dismissed my ass.
Damn, the vicious type. Straight cut a brotha off. I rub my ribs. I'm more intrigued.
The way her black capri tight things clung to her thick thighs had my mouth watering. I was digging her style; she had a pair of mid-thigh jeans shorts over the tights and a black and red AC/DC shirt that she’d cut at the neck and shoulder to expose more skin. She’d also cut a triangle out the back. The large earrings dangling from her ears were replicas of Queen Nefertiti on a map of Africa. Her toenails were painted some frilly pink, and she’s wearing men’s flip-flops. Alieas was colorful and vibrant. I could use some color and a vibrant thang in my life right now.
I wasn’t pressed or anything, but I felt a great sense of loss after she never called me back. Truth be told, I was plotting on that ass. The young boahs on the worksite had hyped me up to get on Black Planet, and I did but that shit really ain’t for me. Nothing but a bunch of thirsty twenty-somethings looking to hook up for quick dates and fun. I’m cool. Not saying that I’m not down for both.
This shit takes work. You gotta be in the mood. Gotta have incentive.
Taking her in, I just realized that I might be in the mood for more.
The princess is gonna have to work on being more vocal and saying what she means. Men aren’t mindreaders, no matter how much women think we are.
I don't waste time. Not by choice so not at all...
Clearing my throat, I extend my hand to her. “Let’s start over. I apologize for my inconsiderate comment.” There’s an interested sparkle in her eye as she accepts my hand. I pull her close to me, causing a feminine giggle to escape her luscious lips. “You think that we could go to a movie tonight?" I invite as the scent of what I believe to be Daisy by Marc Jacobs intoxicates me.
Playfully, Alieas tilts her head up so she can look me in the eyes. “Only if you're paying for it,” she jokes.
“I'll pay for this one and you can pay for the one next week.”
“Who says that there’ll be one next week?” she saucily replies.
Letting go of her hand, I brush my fingertips across her cheek. “If there isn't a movie, I can think of a few other things that we could probably do.”
“I bet you could,” she snorts with a hesitant giggle.
A car pulls up behind my Explorer and beeps its horn. The street is wide enough for the other car to go around it, but the driver doesn't. Torn between this moment with her and the thought of letting it pass, I linger for a second, just drowning in her golden state.
It was like she’d cast a spell. The car impatiently beeps again, breaking it. “Alieas, I’ve got to go. I’ma call you, though. You sure you wanna talk to me this time?”
She nods in response.
“Dang, Princess.” Surprising myself, I lean down to brush a soft kiss to her blush-stained cheek. “Got soft skin,” I murmur close to her ear. “Think about the movie and me—"
BEEP, BEEP, BEEP
“Until later,” I promise her before I run off to move the car.
Glancing back, I catch Alieas fanning her cheeks. By the time I get to the corner of the block, I still want to talk to her, so I call her. I’m not a beat around the bush type of guy. I’m pretty straightforward.
Alieas answered quickly, “Hello?”
“Are you thinking about me now?”
Laughter bails out and she doesn’t even ask who it is. “Yeah, I have to say that I am,” she admits.
“Good, ‘cause I’m thinking about you and the last time I saw you.”
There was a huff of air. I guess she is blowing out what she assumes is bullshit. “You just now left.”
“But I just realized that I didn’t want to stop talking to you”
“Well,” she jokes, “you really know how to make a girl feel special.”
I do and I
was becoming increasingly interested in doing so for her. “That’s what I want to do.”
“Sounds like a plan to me. Tell me a little about yourself,” she starts.
If I hit all the basics, I’m pretty sure she'll be able to answer all her mother’s questions. “I’m twenty-six— and single,” I stop after that. That was the easy part.
“You sure?” she inquires. Her voice is a cross between wonder and skepticism.
The first thing to know about me is that I'm a man of my word. I don't just say shit because it sounds nice. “I told you I’m single. Anything that I say out of this mouth is going be the truth.”
“Okay. We'll see,” she doubts.
Possibly has trust issues. Something else we could work on. I've definitely had my share. Don't think I've allowed myself to trust in a long time. Trying to settle down is hard, especially when you're a full-time father, which leads me to my next truth.
“There's no a woman, but I do have a three-year-old.”
There is a silent pause and then she follows it up by asking, “A three-year-old what?”
“Daughter.” My ladybug is everything to me, and she’d have to be as important to anyone I decided to be with. My youngest sister is the same age as Alieas, and none of her friends are into dating guys with kids. She also has a no-children policy. Says she dealt with the baby momma from hell and now, all men with children are off limits. It may be the same with Alieas. I'd have to respect it. But it would be a shame.
“So… where's her mother?” she questions next. I wish we were face-to-face, so I could read her instead of the questioning pauses.
Can't really say I’m ready to discuss my past relationship. I have no emotions toward Latoya. I loved her and then I hated her. The love was wearing off by the time she finally decided that she wasn't going to move back to Philly from Florida. She’s probably in a trailer park fucking with some Peety Pablo-looking mofo. I'm not concerned about her. I don't like her because she didn’t want to be a mom to my bug. And I can't forgive that.
