Brothers and Wives

by Cydney Rax

  “If I sucked a Negro’s dick, I’m sure you’d understand. But I won’t kiss and tell.”

  “Oh, but you expect me to?”

  “Look, Scottie. I know you. The way we used to fuck every other day, ain’t no way you can go up north and not find a girl who you can smash on the regular.”

  “Yeah, whatever, man.”

  “One thing for sure, you probably didn’t love her. It was just sex.”

  “You’re crazy, LaNecia. But that’s what I love about you.”

  “See,” she smirks and slips her feet inside four-inch pumps. “You just admitted it. You love me and you know you love me, but you’re too scared to let Ugmo know how you feel.”

  “Ain’t nothing ugly about Dani.”

  “Hmm, with a little bit of plastic surgery, she’d be lucky to upgrade to a three.”

  “Dayum, cousin, that’s cold.”

  “Cold sch-mold. I don’t want to talk about her. Where’s the old bitch at anyway?”

  “She’s home, remember?”

  “Not really. I’m not trying to keep up with her. I’m worried about my own self.” LaNecia starts tossing a few sexy bras and panties and a couple of shirts and shorts in her overnight bag.

  “Scottie, baby, can you give me a payday loan?”

  “Here, LaNecia.” He reaches for his wallet and hands her three twenties.

  “Don’t tell anyone I gave you that. I wouldn’t want anyone to know how nice of a man I can be.”

  “I won’t. I swear.”

  “You’d better not.”

  For the rest of the afternoon LaNecia walks around with a poker face. After they arrive at Neil’s and explain her situation, Anya insists that LaNecia stay with them until her electricity is restored. She, LaNecia, and Scottie are standing around the kitchen sipping on ice tea and eating microwave popcorn.

  “Girl, we got this curfew thing going on, so no one has an excuse to be outside after nine unless they’re coming home from work or school.”

  “Yeah, speaking of work, I’ve been missing a few days. And when I called to see when’s the next time I’ll be on the schedule, they say ‘Don’t call us, we’ll call you.’ Can you believe that?”

  “I sure can. In these tough economic times you better smile and act like you love your job even if you can imagine setting a bomb and blowing up the place,” Anya tells her. “I’m sure they’ll be calling you back to work soon. Just be careful, okay?”

  “I ain’t worried, Ms. Anya,” she replies and throws a few pieces of popcorn in her mouth.

  “She ain’t worried. Ha!” Scottie laughs and heads toward the den.

  LaNecia snatches her glass of tea and plops down next to Scottie, who’s now sitting on the love seat looking at TV.

  “Do you mind?” he asks.

  “What are you talking about?”

  “We’re the only two in the den. There’s a big empty sofa over there.”

  “What’s that got to do with me?”

  “Oh, you really think you’re funny, LaNecia.”

  “Do I see a smile? Is Scottie Meadows actually smiling?” Damn, I’m good. I knew I could get to him. All I gotta do is be myself, work my magic, and things will be just like they were last year. Can’t nobody tell me I’m not good at what I do.

  “Shhh, I’m trying to look at the sports highlights. I do not want to be bothered.”

  “Yes, sir.” She forces herself not to grin too wide. She sits back on the love seat, content just to be sitting near him, close enough to smell his deodorant.

  Even though Scottie may complain and make “zinger” remarks to her, LaNecia knows good and well he enjoys the attention she lavishes on him. She feels he puts up a front around Dani.

  But Ugmo’s not here, is she? Good for me.

  They get comfy and watch football highlights for another half hour. Then he asks her if she wants to play two-man spades.

  “You damn straight I do. I know you need to brush up your skills, so let’s do it.”

  LaNecia and Scottie are sitting in the dining room playing spades when the doorbell rings.

  Dani strides into the room and stands in front of Scottie. She leans over and puckers her lips. Scottie hesitates for a second, then gives her a kiss. She opens her mouth and they kiss for a couple of minutes.

  “Sorry I was late. I tried calling you, but you didn’t answer,” she says, wiping her mouth. “You ready to go?”

  Pissed, LaNecia glares at Scottie.

  “Yeah, I gotta go upstairs and get my phone. Be right back.”

  LaNecia dashes up the stairs right behind Scottie. After he enters his bedroom, she slams the door behind her and locks it.

  “What the hell is going on?”

  “LaNecia, please. I had a previous engagement with her.”

  “See, this is exactly what I’m talking about. You can’t keep a promise to save your life.”

  “Look, I said you’d be able to hang out over here and you are. I–I am just gonna go find a bite to eat with her and then I’ll be back.”

  “That’s foul. Scottie you told me that all your other plans were canceled. So to me that should include Ugmo, too.” LaNecia’s eyes are burning with jealousy. “I don’t know what you see in her. It confuses me. She’s so much older than you. What do y’all have to talk about? Geritol?”

  “Baby girl, you just don’t understand.”

  “Oh, I do understand. I think you’re in denial. That’s what I think.”

  He walks up to her and sweeps her braids away from her forehead. “Your nose looks so cute when you’re mad. I actually like it when you get mad at me.”

  “Negro, please,” she snaps, but she still allows him to smooth back her hair. “Can’t you tell her no for once? For me?”

  “That wouldn’t be cool.”

  “Scottie, she’s so much more of an adult than me. She’d be all right. It’s not like she’s your woman, right?”

  “Well …”

  “So she’s just a good friend. I’m family, Scottie. Family comes first.”

  “But, um.”

  With a gleam in her eyes, LaNecia places her hands on Scottie’s chest, kissing him on the cheeks, and pushes him until he’s sitting on his bed. He stares in her eyes as she gently shoves his chest until he’s lying down.

  She gyrates her hips and licks her lips. She reaches down and begins slowly unbuttoning her hot-pink blouse. Scottie’s eyes are locked on her, and she’s thrilled. She has him exactly where she wants him. I’m the type of woman who’s willing to go above and beyond to get the job done. I gotta do whatever it takes to get this man’s mind off that heifer who acts like she’s the Queen of England.

  LaNecia has unzipped her blue jeans. She hooks her fingers in the belt loops and slowly pulls down her pants, inch by inch.

  “You like this?” she whispers. She feels her panties getting soaked and can’t wait to take them off. She can imagine Scottie sticking a couple of his fingers deep in her vagina. That used to drive her crazy.

  “You know it’s been a while since I’ve been fucked good,” she purrs. She takes a sniff and detects the aroma of sex on her underwear.

  “You smell that?” she asks. She starts pulling down her pink lace underwear, making sure that Scottie’s imagination is completely engaged. She crawls in bed next to him and lies sideways.

  Men are visual. They love to fantasize. That’s what he told me when we first started hooking up. He used to enjoy my little stripteases. His dick would be so long and hard it felt like a microphone, and all I wanted to do was put it in my mouth and start screaming.

  LaNecia reaches for Scottie’s right hand and rests it against her vagina.

  He moans.

  “You’re so fucking wet.”

  “You did that, baby. That’s all you,” she whispers. Scottie removes his fingers. LaNecia grabs his hand and forces it to touch her again. Her eyes roll back in her head. She begins to pant heavily and pumps against his hip like she’s having sex.
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  “You want me to ride you?”

  “Yes,” he whispers, his mouth wide open as he lies flat out on his back. His eyes pop open. “No.”

  She feels his body stiffen, and not in the way that turns her on. He removes his hand from her vagina. Small dots of white cream stick to his fingers.

  She grabs his fingers, shoves them in her mouth and starts sucking.

  “You know what, you little freak? We can continue this conversation later. Company awaits.”

  LaNecia frowns and removes his fingers from her mouth.

  “Scottie, don’t do this. How can you leave me like this? I’m sick of you leaving me.”

  “But I always come back, don’t I?”

  “Yeah, but …”

  “I know it’s bad timing, but I swear I’ll be back,” he says, changing his voice to sound like the Terminator.

  “What time?”

  “In an hour.”

  “You better not be lying to me.”

  “Face it, cousin. Nothing I do will change how you are.”

  “Ouch. That hurts.”

  “Sometimes hurt is a good thing. Now I gotta be going. I mean it.” He scoots out of the bed and heads out of the room.

  She springs off the bed and yells over her shoulder, “You may wanna wash your hands before you go downstairs.”

  LaNecia can’t bear to watch Scottie leave out of the front door with Dani by his side. It’s now around seven o’clock. She makes a feeble attempt to eat the dinner that Anya prepared, steamed vegetables and tilapia with homemade bread and coleslaw. Although the food looks and smells delicious, she slumps in her chair at the dining room table, making loud scraping sounds with her fork as she pushes her broccoli, carrots, and cauliflower around her plate.

  Vette tells her, “We’re getting out of here in a minute. I’m going stir-crazy, and I can see you need to get out, too. We’ll steal Neil’s ride and see what kind of trouble we can get into.”

  “Girl, is it that obvious?”

  “Women know women even when we try to front. Let’s roll.”

  Vette finds Neil in the backyard raking a small pile of leaves. She sweetly asks Neil if she may borrow his Ford Explorer.

  “Why not secure a down payment and get your own car?”

  “Thanks Neil,” Vette says as she grabs his keys, which are sitting on the picnic table.

  “I won’t be long. LaNecia and I are going to see if we can find bags of ice.”

  “Yeah, right.”

  Vette laughs out loud and rushes into the house gleefully holding Neil’s keys up in the air. She grabs LaNecia’s arm and pulls her from the dinner table and out the door.

  Soon they are speeding down South Braeswood, a picturesque boulevard with dozens of oversize brick ranches, perfectly manicured lawns, and pricey homes that have enormous curb appeal.

  “Now what’s up? I saw how you looked so devastated earlier when Dani pranced into the den like she’s the lady of the house.”

  “Ain’t that a bitch? If I were Anya, I would have to beat that lady down. Why doesn’t she get on that homewrecker like any sane woman should?”

  “My sister-in-law handles matters in her own way. But all the Meadows are dysfunctional, so what do you expect?”

  “I expect a wife to put a wannabe in her place, that’s what. Ugmo voluntarily went into the refrigerator like she’s throwing down on bills or something.” She pauses. “You think she and Neil are still messing around?”

  “That would be outright nasty. No way she’s doing two brothers at the same time. But who are you to talk, kissing cousin?”

  “Girl, please. I don’t see why he and I can’t be running buddies like we used to be.”

  “Y’all were way more than that. I get sick just thinking of it. You two remind me of Angelina Jolie and her brother, who she kissed one time on the red carpet. You ain’t seen or heard from that guy since.”

  “He couldn’t take the heat, I guess.”

  “And what kind of heat are you trying to put on my brother, huh? Tell the truth.”

  “I already told you, Vette.”

  “You told me a lie, that’s what you told me.”

  “Dang, look at that!” LaNecia ignores Vette’s question and points to a long row of CenterPoint Energy white utility trucks that are lined up on the right side of the boulevard.

  “Looks like the electrical power rescue teams are out in force,” Vette says.

  “Hmm, that’s what I’m talking about. When people are in a crisis, someone is out there ready to respond ASAP. It seems like the only time Scottie pays attention to me is when I stir up high drama. Why are men like that?”

  “Most guys seem very self-absorbed trying to take care of their own needs first. They aren’t thinking about a woman unless she is giving him pussy, or money if he’s one of those broke-ass scrubs.”

  “Hmm, you may be right. I need to know what motivates Scot … I mean, men. I need to get inside a man’s head and see what makes him tick.”

  “The best way to understand a man is to ask another man, preferably a man who isn’t trying to sleep with you. Sex screws up everything.”

  “You’re too funny, but I guess you’re right. Shit, I had sex for the first time when I was just fifteen. I actually regret that experience.”

  “Why, ’cause it turned you into a freak?”

  “Shut up, dude. Seriously, I wanted my first time to be special. But this Negro named Clarence was a senior and I was a freshman going into my sophomore year. We’d go to the movies or the mall. And he’d ask me to come by his house when his mom and little sisters were gone. Like a dummy, I did.”

  “Oh, then what happened?”

  “Of course, he led me on the typical lame-ass tour of this teeny-weenie town house that they were renting. And we go upstairs. He showed me his room, then his mother’s room, which had a king-size bed with lots of pillows.”

  “Oh, you wanted to get in that bed, huh?”

  “Well, Clarence was like, ‘Let’s play a game. Husband and wife.’ I said okay. And he got in bed, took off his clothes and ordered me to take off mine. I was like, ‘What if your momma comes home?’ He was like, ‘I’m the man of the house and I know what’s best, so do what I tell you. Do you trust me? Do you love me?’ Girl, I was so confused, but flattered that he wanted to act like he was my husband. So I got naked, got in bed, and we got busy.”

  “Did it hurt?”

  “Hell yeah. I was squirming and squeaking, sounding like a freaking chicken mixed with alley cats. But Clarence kept going till he got a little nut. Then he got up, put on his clothes, and washed his hands, just like that.”

  “That sounds messed up.”

  “Yeah, it was awful. That experience taught me never to let a man be in control.” LaNecia suddenly feels a tingle of depression settling inside her heart. She remembers how strange it felt for her when Clarence didn’t want to take her to the movies anymore. He made up excuses, saying he was busy with his studies and football practice. But LaNecia didn’t believe him. She kept trying to call him and get him to take her out again, this time to a decent restaurant plus a movie. But he never responded to her requests.

  “Well, like I said before,” Vette says, “most guys are hard to figure out. Yet Anya says that guys are pretty simple. She had to learn that the hard way.”

  “What else did she say?”

  “That if you want to secure a man, feed him with good food, always be willing to give him the bomb sex whenever he wants it, and, yes, sometimes you gotta give up the cash. Now, if they make their own money, you’re straight. They will be giving you the dollars. But if they’re young and don’t have much money, they may want a little help.”

  “That sucks. I mean, I know I can fuck. I can cook. But I don’t have much money.” She frowns. “I’m going to try and get another job. My whole future is at stake.”

  Vette shakes her head. “I know you got something crazy going on inside your head, cousin, but you be carefu
l what you wish for. You gotta really think if Scottie is worth you losing yourself with all the little scheming you’re doing.”

  — 9 —

  ANYA

  Middle-Aged Beauty

  It’s early October, two-and-a-half months away from the big 4-0. My older girlfriends warn me about what to expect. They say once I reach middle age, I will look at life differently. Well, that new perspective has kicked in, and I haven’t even reached forty yet.

  It’s a beautiful Saturday afternoon, and the temperature is so hot you’d think it was the middle of July. I felt like getting out of the house today, and now Vette and I are at the Memorial City Mall, hanging out near the food court. She’s hungry for a chicken pasta salad from Le Petit Bistro. I have no appetite, and I’m sitting across from a double-decker Venetian-style carousel waiting on Vette to get her order.

  Children of all ages run around the perimeter of the massive merry-go-round. Other kids are content to sit on top of the high-gloss painted horses as they bob up and down and travel in that perfect circle to circus music.

  My eyes follow one little boy who looks seven. His head is chock-full of blond hair. His piercing blue eyes light up every time he laughs. His little hands are gripping his striped pole for dear life. I stare at the ride as it comes to a stop. Next thing I know, I’m getting in line and climbing on top of an off-white horse with a long mane.

  I know people are smiling and pointing at me, but I don’t care.

  The ride begins, and I lurch forward. “Oh, this is fun, brings back so many fond memories,” I say out loud to a pudgy Hispanic kid, who stares at me like I’m an alien.

  I close my eyes and get lost in childish wonder. When the ride comes to a stop, and my feet hit the ground, I have to grip a pole to keep from falling.

  “Anya, you must be out of your mind.”

  “Shhh, girl, don’t say my name.”

  “You don’t want anyone to know that it’s the great Anya Meadows who’s looking like a fool with her big butt on a kiddie ride?”

  “Hush, child. Nothing wrong with having clean, innocent fun.”