And, not to mention, I am little nervous about seeing Samuel. He’s not expecting me. His wife could be here for all I know. There’s a lot on my mind, and I did the right thing getting into this bathroom. There is no telling what might have come out of my mouth.
“Envy, sadness, and anxiousness ran me up in here,” I say out loud to my reflection in the mirror. “Understanding and confidence will get your fine self back out there. Let’s go, girl. Shake it off, go on out there and smile, and then smile some more.”
I take another five deep, cleansing breaths and decide to leave.
Michelle is coming into the bathroom as I am exiting.
“Are you okay?”
I see her lipstick is almost smeared off. She and Carlos must have gotten into a little lip action before she came in to check on me.
“Oh, I’m okay, girl, just a little gas from the cheeseburger at school, and I didn’t want Carlos to hear me poot. He would have never let me live it down.” I look at her directly, making a reference to her attitude earlier this morning in the lab bathroom.
Her round eyes widen and she nods. “Oh, I know, boys remember our poots forever. Like it makes us nasty, and they do it out loud and laugh, but let a girl part company and we are stinky heifers for eternity. It’s not fair. Well, if you are okay, I’ll meet you at our seats.”
She enters a stall, and I walk out of the bright black and gray bathroom.
Behind the braided black velvet robes, I see Carlos towering over a crowd of boisterous little kids. He is handing the tickets to the usher and being let through the robes.
The lobby is filled with what looks like third and fourth graders. Carlos looks like Gulliver, a giant among dwarfs. The kids are loud and busy. It must be like three or four different classes. I see two teachers trying to control them as best they can. At least the kids are in a line.
Carlos passes the ticket window and gets to me. “Mama said the tickets were student passes. I assumed she meant high school student passes. I didn’t know we would be here with munchkins. Where did Michelle go?”
I was right about him and Michelle. He has lipstick smeared on his neck. I ran out of his car in a frantic state, and he takes time to make out before he checks on me, bastard. I don’t tell him about the smear on his neck.
“She is in the bathroom right behind us.” I have to yell because the kids are so loud.
“That’s pretty cool about her hair and the wigs, huh?” He is yelling too.
“Yeah. Now you don’t have to dump her.”
He looks like he did when I beat him at Madden: shocked stupid. “How did you know I was thinking about dumping her?” he asks. He doesn’t yell, and he looks behind me for Michelle.
“Boy, I know you.” I dismiss him with a wave of my hand.
I spot Samuel across the lobby, and he has seen me. He is making a beeline through the disruptive kids in our direction. He has on a pair of Levi’s, a white sweatshirt, and a pair of all-white Reeboks. My baby looks fresh.
“Here comes your old-ass boyfriend, and here is your ticket. I’m gonna stand over there and wait for Michelle. Oops, I almost forgot, not that you care, but Walter told me to remind you that he is stopping by tonight. He said he had something real important to tell you.”
“I haven’t forgot Walter is coming over, and it’s really crude of you to say I don’t care about him. I can have more than one male friend.”
He just doesn’t want me to be with Samuel. He couldn’t care less about me forgetting Walter’s visit.
“Yeah, right. You ain’t been thinking about nothing but him.” He nods his head in Samuel’s direction. He walks to the other side of the ticket window, and once there he shoots Samuel a hateful, teeth-baring look that only I can see. Carlos is a trip. But who cares? Samuel is grinning and happy to see me.
“Mmmm, don’t you look good.” He bends down to hug me. “I almost didn’t recognize you in that fur jacket. I thought you were one of the teachers. Who did you come here with?”
The sound of Samuel’s voice reminds me of a motorcycle cruising down the block. The way he talks, the rhythm of his words, makes me think of Grandma’s humming. He stands straight up, releasing me too soon from the snug hug. I could stay linked to him for another hour. He smells good, too, sort of like caramel.
“My next-door neighbor and his girlfriend brought me, but Mama is picking me up,” I shout over the kids.
“Hold up, your mama is not here?” he says into my ear.
“Not yet. She’ll be here ten minutes before the play ends,” I say into his ear.
“Baby, I was on standby for this performance and just found out they won’t need me. My brother’s apartment is right across the street. If you want, we can go over there and be alone for the duration of the play.”
“Just you and me?”
“And our desires.”
Our desires. He thinks I want to give him some, and he’s right. “I would go, but I am not sure about my mama. She might come early.”
“My brother’s window faces the theater. We will see every car that pulls up. And nothing will happen except for what we both want to happen.”
Talking into each other’s ears like this is very intimate. Thank goodness for unruly kids.
“What do you want to happen?” I ask.
“I want to show you how I feel about you.” He strokes my cheek while he’s talking in my ear, and that makes the back of my legs and toes tingle.
“No, what you want to do is feel on me. So, what do you think I want to happen?”
“I think we both know we are only half a step away from love, and I think we both are ready to take that half a step.”
“Are you telling me that if I go across the street with you, we will fall in love?” I’m looking at him intently since he is lying, because a smart girl learns a liar’s face for future reference.
“No. What I’m saying is there is an opportunity for us to make love, and perhaps us making love will makes us fall in love.”
He nibbles on my ear. And now I feel the tingle from the back of my legs rise up my spine and spread across my shoulders. I’m going, but not because of the stupid mess that just came out of his mouth. We’re going because this girl has wanted to do it with him a long time, and my body is tired of waiting. I turn to tell Carlos what’s up, but he has left the lobby area.
Smiling back to Samuel I say, “Come on.”
Chapter Three
Samuel is sweaty wet and lying on top of me like he is about to pass out. This grown man has just popped off for the second time, and neither time did he pull his big ding-a-ling out like he promised. No problem though because I am on the pill, but he doesn’t know that, and once he got started he didn’t care. And while he was doing what he was doing, I didn’t care too much either because of how he was doing what he was doing.
At first, it didn’t feel good, and I started not to do it. His ding-a-ling is almost too big, but he squirted a lot of baby oil on it, and I mean a lot, and then it went inside and felt much better. It started feeling so good that my thinking got all jumbled up. My brain told me he was supposed to pull out, but my pussycat wouldn’t let my hands push him off. My pussycat wanted him doing what he was doing just like he was doing it.
I do want him to roll off me now though, but I’m too tired to budge. He’s not the only one sweaty wet, tired, and blowing long, satisfied breaths.
He rolls off of me and lays his head on the one pillow with me. He has pretty eyelashes, and they are longer than mine. “May, whatever you need, baby, and I mean whatever, whenever, if you need something, baby, just let me know. I swear to God if I weren’t married I would marry you today. I want to wake up to you every morning. Watch what I tell you, girl. I’m going to figure this out. We are going to be man and wife. You are my soul mate. Whatever you need, baby, I got it or will get it.”
The sex was definitely worth taking the risk of not being at the theater when Mama pulls up. He made me feel that shiver
from the inside out a bunch of times. I would have been cool with just the good feelings, but since he’s talking that “whatever I need” stuff it’s time to tell him what I need, but I have to do it quick because Mama will pull up to the theater in a minute.
“Are you serious about helping me with what I need?” I move my fingers lightly up and down his clammy back. His neck smells like the Gucci counter at Macy’s.
“I am your man now, baby. I have to take care of you. You mine.”
“You my man?”
“That’s right baby. I’m yours, and you mine.”
“For real?”
“Baby, it’s me and you ’til the end.” He kisses me—no tongue, just puckered lips—but I like the feel of it.
“Then since you my man, I’m going to tell you what I need, and if you can’t do it just tell me. I know what I am asking is a big deal because my mama can’t even do it.”
“What is it, baby? What do you need? Tell your man. Tell your man what you need.”
I inhale a long breath through my nose because I don’t want him to hear me taking it. I say, “I need three hundred dollars to pay my senior fees and get my prom dress. Can you help me with that? Mama just told me yesterday she didn’t know how she was going to pay the fees or get the dress. If you give me the money, I’ll tell her the school waived my fees and that my friend Michelle will make my dress. If you can do that, I won’t have to worry about anything.” I keep my eyes on his because he is not looking away. “And the best part is that since I will be buying a dress, I won’t have to be over at Michelle’s getting fitted for a dress. My dress fitting time will be our time. I can see you during the time I am supposed to be going over Michelle’s to get fitted for the dress.”
I lay my arm across his shoulder and kiss him. I don’t know where the plan came from. It just popped up in my head, but it sounds good to me. “And if I have the money before Mama picks me up, I can tell her all this today, and she can meet Michelle. Can you give me the money before we go back to the theater?”
He blinks his pretty eyes one, two, three, four, five, six times, and says, “Three hundred, huh? I only have a hundred on me.”
“Three hundred is what I need from my man.” The proof is in the pudding. That’s what my mama says.
He smiles and puckers for a kiss. I give him one.
“Okay, baby, let me run downstairs to the 7-Eleven. They got a cash machine down there. If it works, you’ll have what you need. If not, you’ll have to put things on hold until the morning.”
“I don’t think it will work tomorrow. Today, Michelle will be there to tell Mama that I have to come by her house for the fittings. If we wait until later, Mama will want to talk to Michelle’s mama and all that.”
“Yeah, I can see that,” he says. He rolls out of the sleeper sofa. He rises up, kisses me, and slides into his clothes and out the door.
This will be the most money a boy ever gave me, but, that’s right, I keep forgetting Samuel is a man.
His brother lives in what Samuel calls a studio apartment. It’s just one room and a bathroom. We did our thing on a pullout sofa. And when Samuel opened the door to go to 7-Eleven, I had to pull the covers over me so no one passing in the hall would see me naked. This studio is not a cool way to live.
Before I can get completely dressed, Samuel is back with fifteen crisp twenty-dollar bills. He wants to fool around some more, and I do too.
But I tell him, “Mama might already be down there. If we stay up here and do it some more and wind up late, she’s not going to listen to anything I say. And if I walk up late with you, it’s all over. If we want the prom dress thing with Michelle to work, I have to be inside the theater when she pulls up.” I put my hand in his pants and wrap my fingers around his thick ding-a-ling. “We can do it again next week and the weeks after if we are smart today.”
He blows a heavy sigh. “You’re right. I am the one who should be thinking how you’re thinking.”
* * *
When I get back to the theater, the play is still in progress, and since it’s mostly little kids in the audience, the usher lets me go into the auditorium. I find a seat in the back row and sit down. I pull out my purse and count the fifteen twenty-dollar bills again. Around Samuel, I could not act as excited as I really am. I acted grateful, but not thrilled about the money. This girl is thrilled. Counting the bills again, I let out a little squeal.
“Three hundred dollars!”
I fold the bills and try to think of a place to keep them, a safe place, until I can get home and hide them. Dudes around here snatch purses, and I’d have to cut a thug to the bone for taking this purse. I slip the money into my bra under my right breast. It’s a little bigger than the left one, and the money will stay under it.
When I look to the stage, the actors are taking their final bows, the lights come on, and the play is over. The kids are clapping, so they must have enjoyed themselves. I spot Carlos and Michelle sitting low in their theater seats all hugged up. The two teachers are standing up before the kids. One comes to the back by me, and the kids begin to line up behind her. The other teacher stays at the front. The kids have settled down, a lot, and the line is actually orderly as they pass out of the auditorium into the lobby.
Michelle and Carlos are behind the other teacher walking slowly up the center aisle.
“Did you enjoy it?” Michelle asks me.
“Oh, yeah, it was the bomb.” I’m talking about Samuel, not the play. I stand from my seat and join them behind the line of children.
“Hey, Michelle, I need to talk to you about something. Didn’t I hear girls at school talking about you sewing?”
She nods her head. “Mm-hmm, I sew.”
Following them out of the auditorium, I notice her belt is dangling from her jeans belt loop. I tug it, and the belt slides out of the loops. We all stop.
“Oh, my, what were you two doing?”
“Not as much as you,” Carlos says. “At least we were at the play.”
Blushing, Michelle reaches for her belt and makes a spry break to the bathroom. I decide not to follow her because I want to tell Carlos about the $300. We walk to the front of the ticket window as the children and teachers continue out.
“So where did you and ol’ boy go? And I do mean old boy.” By the size of the grin on his face, he thinks he has said something clever.
“We went across the street to his brother’s place, but, listen to this, he gave me three hundred dollars.”
Carlos, who was leaning on the counter of the ticket window, stands erect. He looks like a pigeon just pooped on his shoulder. “For what?” he asks. “Men don’t just give women money like that. You need to give him every penny back because whatever he wants you to do, you ain’t ready for. God only knows what he wants done for three hundred dollars.”
His shocked expression has changed. The look on his face now reminds me of the time Papa pulled me off the curb when a motorcycle ran up in our yard. That was the first and only time I saw Papa scared.
I want to put Carlos at ease, but all there is to say is, “He gave me the money because I told him I needed it for school and for prom.”
“Don’t he know your mama is going to pay for all that?” he asks in a low tone.
“No, because that’s not his business. His business is what I tell him.”
He’s shaking his head from side to side. “You sound like your mama talking about one of her friends. May, please tell me that man didn’t give you three hundred dollars. Let me see it.”
He’s right. I did sound like my mama, and I’m not sure I like that.
“Let me see, May,” he demands actually reaching for my purse.
I pull the purse away but step closer to him so we can continue talking in hushed tones. “I’ll show it to you later, but what I want to know is, do you think Michelle will go along with a lie? I need her to tell Mama she is sewing a prom dress for me.”
“Have her sew the dress for you and you won’t
be lying.”
“No. I am going to use the time when I’m supposed to be getting my dress sewn to be with Samuel.”
“What? You ain’t fixin’ to pull my girl in on all that mess,” he says, no longer whispering.
“What? Your girl? Man, less than two hours ago you were about to dump her butt because you thought she was bald-headed.”
“Sssh!” He puts his long index finger to his thick lips. He wants to whisper again.
“Now you worried about me pulling her into some mess? Get real, Carlos. I need you thinking like your normal self. Not like a boy who just got a good blowjob.”
His mouth drops open. “How did you know that?” His face is covered with wonderment as if I just figured out the solution to world hunger.
“Focus, Carlos. Will she go for it?”
“Tell me how you knew she did that, and I’ll try to focus.”
“It’s a girl thing. Focus on what I am asking you now, please.”
“Tell me!” he says in a whispered shout.
“Fine, it was a simple observation. There was only so much she could do for you in a theater seat, and since you didn’t have an erection when you came walking up the aisle, you must have been satisfied. And since there was no wet spot or a dried spot where a wet spot should have been had she given you a hand job, she obviously didn’t do that. Hand jobs leave a mess. There is no way around it. No mess, no hand job, but you are satisfied, so she must have given you some head, and since you are now referring to her as ‘your girl,’ I can only assume that the head was good to you, and that she not only satisfied you but she must have also impressed you by swallowing.”
“Ugh! That’s nasty. She didn’t swallow it. She had some tissue from the bathroom. You must be part witch to figure all that out,” he says with no humor in his voice.
I would comment on the witch reference, but Michelle and my little scheme are on my mind. “Now will you focus on my question, please?”
He takes a couple of aimless steps in front of the ticket office, hunches his shoulders, and rubs the fussy hairs on his chin. He looks at me earnestly. “I don’t know because that will involve her mama lying too if you supposed to be over their house. Why don’t you just ask Michelle can she do the dress without all the other stuff? If she says yes, you can go from there. One step at a time makes a plan.”
Mama's Girl Page 4
