by Elaine Allen
The next few minutes pass as I listen to the melodies of the live jazz band and hushed conversations of others around me. “I thought you had a family thing tonight,” the deep, familiar, masculine voice comes from behind me.
I don’t have to look around. For the past couple of weeks, I’ve heard that sexy ass voice over the telephone and in person, smiling, laughing, and joking. Shit, I hear it when his ass is nowhere near me. After taking a deep breath, I finally turn around to focus my eyes on Carter. My eyes have just received a delicious treat. This is the first time I've seen him dressed formally. And— “Well, damn”— is all I can think. This man is Denzel fine, Billy Dee Williams in Lady Sings the Blues fine, from head to toe. He's wearing a black dress shirt with a red silk tie; his black suit pants are perfectly creased down the center of each leg and hits the middle of his expensive Italian shoes that match the designer belt that tapers his waist.
The expression on his face clearly conveys that he’s angry. I've talked to him enough to know that lying isn't something that he tolerates. I was even afraid to be as honest as I was with him. I want something with him, so I'm not going to lie about this. “I did,” I respond. Without invitation, he removes the chair that is on the other side of my table and pulls it right next to mine. Carter shrugs as he waits for me to explain. “That shit was the worse,” I say, rolling my eyes.
“Alieas, I was hot as shit with you earlier.”
I already knew he was upset. The first time I called, it went straight to voicemail, and when I called right back it rang twice, and then he cleared the call. I thought about texting him but decided against it. It's only been a month and I am afraid of him. Truth be told. I'm scared of his whole deal. Him, the kid, what he's looking for in a woman, and I'm scared that if he finds out who I used to be, he'll be the one running.
And since he just witnessed me pouring my heart out, it may be too late for that. When I told him that I wasn't ready to commit to anything serious, he was cool about it. When I told him about the dinner party, I envisioned him laying down the law but he didn’t; he was annoyed, hot, from what he’s said.
“So, what happened on your “family” date? And what was all that about?” he asks. I knew he would want to know what was up, so I feel that I can tell him.
“Are you on a date?” I inquire, just so I can see him smile.
He did and said, “Nawl, I don't have to date around to find who I want.”
I flag him. “Whatever, Carter,” I reply with a huge smile.
He takes my hand in his and asks, “When are you gon’ stop running from me?”
I laugh, loving the feel of his rough hands on mine. I even have butterflies in my damn stomach, but they disappear quickly enough when I think about telling him the truth. “You don't even know me,” I laugh, changing the subject.
“I'm trying to know you. You’re the one backing away and fuckin’ with a bunch of knuckleheads.”
“Are you here alone?” I ask because I've wasted enough of both of our time. He is going to find out the deal. I'm going to put most of my cards on the table and see if he wants to fold.
“Dave drove up this weekend. Him and D came through.”
Philly is huge but we still managed to kind of know the same people. Dave and Daemon are my cousin Tyree's best friends, and Dave is also Trina’s, one of my closest girlfriend’s, ex. And Daemon is the man of another girlfriend, Case’s dreams.
“Where they at?” I question. In college, Dave used to make trips to see Trina, even when they weren't together. They had enough drama to make my life seem mediocre. And I guess it’ll continue at the wedding. Catrina hasn’t seen or spoken to him in a little over a year.
Everyone is extra concerned with how’ll they’ll respond to one another when they do finally see each other. I don’t have to worry because since she’s planning the wedding; Catrina will be on her best behavior. And Bri will shut Dave down if he tries to start some shit on her big day.
It’s been a year since my girlfriend Case had finally worn D down into dating, and I’m sure that their union will soon lead to babies and marriage. They are already over heels in love.
“Over there in the corner,” he replies and points over to a bar seat.
“How about we both go tell them goodnight so we can get out of here,” I suggest.
Carter frowns, looks intently at me and asks, “What are you trying to get into?”
“We have the potential to be more. There are a few things that you need to know about me if you're serious about being with me.”
He nods. “Come on.”
We go over to talk to Dave and D, and I notice that Carter still has my hand in his. The fact that they fit makes me feel safe.
“Look at you, Lieas. Drop that dickhead and start goin' off on bitches,” Dave smirks, embracing me. “But you fuckin' with this dude, now?” he laughs, slapping Carter on the back.
I lean down and hug them both. D is the silent type, so he doesn’t say much more than “hey”. But Dave is the lighthearted jokester out of their man trio.
“He aight,” I admit. He is way more than alright, I thought, looking over at Carter.
“Yeah, I'm aight,” he mocks.
“Your friend, man,” Dave sighs heavily. “She still tripping. You probably gonna be acting all shady with her the next time I see you. Tell her I still love her,” Dave confesses. The thought of seeing her must be weighing heavy on his heart. He shakes his head and coughs into his fist. “Anyway, that shit up there was hot. I still got a copy of your poem.”
I frown. “What poem?”
“The One Minute Man one. You be hatin'.”
I laugh. “They out here in these streets, waiting to disappoint a sista.” Laughing, I consider his request. “I’ll try to speak to Trina for you. We bout to leave, though," I tell him, giving him another quick hug.
The three of them shake hands, and as we turn to walk away he says, "Cart, you just got yourself a whole lot to handle,” D finally speaks.
Carter only laughs and wraps his hand around mine again, only tighter this time.
An hour passes between the time we leave The Spot and I finish telling him about my past and what I want for the future.
“I'm sure that we all have something in our past that we're not exactly proud of. I've slept with plenty of women in my life, and I'm not as nearly harsh on myself as you are,” he replies when I call myself a whore.
It's different with women, though. The world views us different. Fucking as many women as you can in a male's world is seen as a big deal. An accomplishment to most. The more women you have, the higher your status. With women, it's the exact opposite. You're viewed as a whore by those same males who do the same exact thing.
“I'm telling you this ‘cause I like you.” I said that already, I know. But I'm nervous. And I repeat myself when I'm nervous. And obviously, I also overlook shit like demanding to know if we are going to be exclusive. I’m not even sure if I’m ready for exclusivity. I want it, though. I want him to want it enough to ask.
The room seems warm and small. Carter is sitting in front of me on my damn glass coffee table, and I don't even care.
“You seem like you have a lot within yourself that you need to work out....”
Hold up; those sound like let-down words to me. I laugh, shake my head, and shrug it off.
“It's cool if you wanna change yo—”
I stop speaking because he starts laughing.
“I'm not changing my mind, Alieas. I'm saying that I'll give you the time and space you need to do what you gotta do to fix whatever it is that ails you.”
Hmmm. I get up. It still sounds like he's saying, 'I can't fuck with you like that,' to me. I begin pacing the room. I do that when I'm wound up, too.
“What the is that supposed to mean?” I ask, thinking that I'm more upset than I should be, considering my omission of Justin.
He stands up. “It means that whenever you’re ready, I'll be waiting.”
I suck my teeth, eyeing him. “So, you still wanna see me?”
Then he does it. He licks those fuckin' sexy lips and replies, “Yeeeahh.”
Carter is close enough to me now to touch me. He takes advantage of the opportunity and grabs my hips with one hand and uses the other to tip my face up to his. He holds my chin as he says, “Listen, I'm not tryna put you off. I'm literally trying to put you on. But I'm gon' be dead straight. I don't think you ready for all the things you told me you want. After what I been through, I’m not trying to be mixed up in all that. But I think you have potential.”
My lips form a sneer. How he gon' tell me what I'm ready for? I thought in my Sanaa Lathan voice when Omar was dumping that ass in the third quarter of, Love and Basketball.
“Cut it,” he says with a motion of his hand to his neck. “Let's not get into that dramatic shit you be trying to pull.” His eyes are daring me to dispute it. “I'm not saying that you don't want it. I'm simply saying that you don't sound as if you're ready for it now.”
“How you figure?” I complain, getting a kick out of the fact that he's analyzing me.
“Simply because you are still trying to find yourself. You got it going on.” He takes a step back and looks me up and down, nods in approval, and then adds, “Make no mistake about that. You’re still young, though. You just said that you’re not who you pretend to be. Why do you have to pretend if you know who are?”
I didn't respond, so he took that as I was thinking about it.
“I want to be your friend. I want to get to know you better and the people you love. And since sex has been a huge stumbling block for you in the past, we won't have to worry about it. Friends don't fuck—”
“Hold up,” I interrupt. No sex? No dick? “What?!” Now this man wants to only be friends?
Carter frowned, creasing his forehead. “How ‘bout you listen for a minute?” he demands.
Ohh, I nibble on my bottom lip and consider how that simple request shuts me up. His deep voice when making subtle demands has the power to make me submit to his desires. He could have me right here on my coffee table if he wanted to.
Face down, ass up.
He next says, “Sex is an illusion.” The lusty fantasy I envisioned burst like a bubble, the wet droplets landing on my nose to bring me back to reality. “And it crowds all the important things in a relationship. Am I going to talk when we can fuck all the time? Probably not. I want something with you. And before you give yourself to me that way, I want you to know exactly what you're getting into,” he explains.
See, this the shit. All his talk be scaring the shit out of me; got me thinking, 'Damn, what am I getting into?'
I don't know but I want to be in it, though.
Carter drops a quick kiss to my lips, moves away, and glances down at his watch. “I’ma gi before I change my mind. I'll call you when I get home. Think about what I said and let me know what's up.”
It is clear that he’s leaving everything up to me. And for the first time in a very long time, I don't know what the fuck to do. I want him but seriously, I don't know if I can handle him. Damn, there's never been a man in my life where I doubt my ability to reign. Plus, I'm still thinking about him telling me that I don't know myself. I feel a little ache in my heart because half of what he said is true. I've known this man on a personal level for a little over a month, and from one conversation that lasted a little over an hour, he knows that I am lost and confused. A borderline bullshitter ready to reform. But he saw that I was at least worth possibly wading in the deep end of the water for.
Seven
Alieas
I know that I’m opening myself up for trouble and I can’t help it. Justin called me and for the last couple of weeks, we’ve been talking on the telephone and going out. I’m so into Carter yet here I am with this man.
There’s always that one thing about a guy that a girl can’t just let get past her. That’s the thing with Justin. He has that one thing. And if you ask me what it is, I wouldn’t even be able to begin to explain. I know that sounds stupid as hell— young as hell—but trust that I am neither.
There’s about to be some trouble in these waters, and I know I’m going to need a lifeboat. This man is educated, employed, doesn’t mind spending money, is funny as hell, and child-free.
“Come on now, Lieas,” he announces as he starts up his car, “you really don’t want to know.”
I’m laughing hard as hell. “You’re a clown. Yes, I do.”
Justin holds up his hands and shakes his head. “No, you don’t.”
“Yes, I do,” I argue.
“The last time a chick asked me about another chick and I told her, she stopped messing with me. And I liked her. I learned my lesson.”
“Oh, please. I ain’t about to stop talkin’ to you over no other girl.”
“That’s because you a pimp and you think I’on know.”
“Justin, please. You’re the pimp.”
“Alright. I got a old head; she thirty-two with a couple kids, a good job, good credit, and fine as hell.”
It always intrigues me to listen to men describe other women. “So, what’s wrong with her?”
“Nothing really. I can’t just call her up and say let’s do this; she has responsibilities.”
I understand that. My exact yet unspoken issue with Carter. “So, who else?”
“My young buck. Now, she a ryder. Don’t ask too many questions, always got my back, cool as shit. No kids, but she live at home with her parents when she not away at school, and they’re always in her business.”
I could see from his expression that she was the girl that he was really into. “So, you really like her.”
“She cool.”
Just like a nigga. “How long y’all been talking?”
“Met her on New Year's Eve. You done?”
“I’m just tryna see where I fit in.”
He chuckles. “Game and so much of it. I’m still waitin’ for your man to roll up on us.”
I adjust my seat so that it leans all the way back and put my feet up on the dashboard. “You know me better than that.”
“You must have dude in check. Wouldn’t happen over here.” He gives me a long look and taps my calf so I would put my feet down. When I ignore him, Justin shakes his head and sighs. “Be real with me though; do I have a chance?”
Honesty is always the best policy. “There is somebody.”
“Tell me about him.”
“We been dating for two months. He has a three-year-old daughter, works real hard, is fine as hell, and is really into me. He also has an extremely intense personality; he knows what he wants and goes after it. I admire that in men.”
“If he’s all that what are you doin’ out with me?”
I shrug. It was that one thing plus I wasn‘t ‘bout to pass up an invitation to The Cheesecake Factory. “You wanted to take me out. And I like you.”
“Two months? That’s like a month before I met you. I could still get you.”
It is the way he says it that has me eyeing him cautiously without him knowing it. “You’re just tryna sleep with me.”
He tilts his head and licks his lips then sighs. “You know I wanna hit that.”
I chuckle. It has definitely crossed my mind. “Yes, I know. You ain’t gettin’ it, though.”
“That’s cool. ‘Cause if I hit that, you gon’ be looking for me. Like, Justin, why you‘n wan come over? And all that… I‘ma have to back you down if I break you off with this.”
“I told you you’re a clown.”
“Nah, I’m playin’.”
“No, you are not.”
“You’re right. So if you gon’ be dating both of us, how you divvy up your time between us?”
“On the real, if I hadn’t told you about Carter you would never know about him. You gotta make everybody feel like they’re the only one.”
“You cain’t do that. Someone is gonna feel left out. You gon’ enjoy one per
son’s company more than you do the other. There is no equality when it comes to bein’ in multiple relationships. I hate to think that if I’m gettin’ in that that someone else is too.”
I nod because I agree. “Everything does not boil down to sex. Plus, all men think that way. But you having sex with your old head and your young buck. Me, I’m not having sex with anyone.”
“Ohh, come on. You ain’t let boah hit?”
I shake my head. “We on a different vibe. I want what my parents have, and he seems like he wants to give it to me.”
“Yo, you sound like boah your man and all. I’m really not tryna step on his toes. And you definitely can't get what your parents have with him if you out on a date with me.”
Oh, God; he is right. “Justin, it is not that serious,” I lie just a little.
“I’on want no nigga tryna wild out on me over they girl. And a nigga would definitely wild out over you.”
“Now, who got game?”
There is a glint in his eyes when he says, “Just let me know when you don't wanna play no more.”
Eight
August 2002
Carter
“I can't believe you can't skate,” I tease Alieas. Leaning back to catch her eyes, I squint and add, “And how is it that you never been here? You sure you from North?” I playfully push her leg off of mine.
Carmen’s Skating Rink used to be a staple in the community, and hearing her say she's never been here has me dumbfounded. All the churches in the neighborhood had parties here. People had selling parties and fundraisers galore here in my youth. I have plenty of great memories at the rink. My aunt throws a skate party every three months, so I bring Bug when I can. She straps on her Fisher Price 1-2-3s and tries her best to think she at a roller derby. Mira was extra excited when Alieas said she was coming. Over the last few months we've been dating, we've been on play dates with Alieas and her nephew, so Bug is familiar with her and enjoys Lieas' company.
Laughingly, Alieas holds a finger up in the air while rolling her neck. “Don't let the color of the street signs fool you, son,” she sassily replies in reference to the street sign colors that distinguish the county you live in. “And I didn't say, I can't skate. I said I haven't been skating in forever. Like, since I was ten maybe.” Alieas shrugs and then makes a production out of putting her leg across my knees. “These heavy ass skates. I’m just gonna sit over here and watch you skate with Bug.”
