Can I Get a Witness?

by ReShonda Tate Billingsley

  “Wanna bet?” Kyla laughed.

  “I’m serious,” Dionne continued. “It is not easy dating nowadays. Men today are either gay, taken, or got four baby mamas. I swear I’m gon’ make me a T-shirt that says ‘Gay? Married? Playa? Check one!’” Everyone at the table cracked up laughing.

  “It can’t be that bad.” Kyla chuckled.

  Dionne looked at her archly. “Oh really. What about that clown Chris? You remember him?”

  Melanie and Trina burst out laughing.

  “Who is Chris?” Kyla asked. She’d only become their friend over the last few years, so she’d missed out on some of their dating horror stories.

  “Well,” Dionne began, “Chris was this guy I went out with twice, which was two times too many. The only reason I went out with him that second time was because on the first date he had taken me out to my favorite restaurant for my birthday and had been the perfect gentleman. On our second date, he wanted to cook dinner for me at his place and I agreed.”

  Melanie giggled before Dionne could even get the rest of the story out.

  “First of all,” Dionne continued, ignoring Melanie, “the smell of weed hit me in the face the second he opened the door. Two of his friends, with their eyes bloodshot red, were walking out when I walked in. That should have been my first clue to get up out of there, but I decided to give him the benefit of the doubt. All during dinner his phone kept vibrating, and finally after dinner, we heard keys jingling in the lock from outside. Before he had a chance to move, his mama walks in and smooth goes off! She wanted to know why her house smelled like weed, and who was the hoochie he had up in her house while she was at work. She told him that since he didn’t pay any rent, he didn’t have any business bringing company up in her house when she wasn’t home. I grabbed my purse and walked out just as she was saying something about we better not have been doing the nasty on the clean sheets on her bed.”

  Melanie was laughing like it was her first time hearing the story.

  “Did she mention that Chris was thirty-seven?” Trina threw in, fighting back laughter herself.

  “Dang.” Kyla laughed. “Did you talk to him after that?”

  “Girl, I haven’t heard from Chris since that night, and it’s a good thing, too, because I’d probably have a few choice words for him,” Dionne responded. That memory alone was reason enough why she didn’t want to return to the dating scene.

  Kyla put her drink down and said, “All jokes aside, have you ever thought about whose fault is it that you always seem to choose the losers?”

  Dionne narrowed her eyes. Leave it to Kyla to get all philosophical. She thought maybe she just might tell them about the baby. According to her doctor’s visit this morning, she was eight weeks along. But then she decided that she wasn’t ready to share her news. Not because she hadn’t decided if she was going to keep it—abortion simply wasn’t an option for her. Rather, she wasn’t in the mood to hear anyone’s mouth about how she could let herself get knocked up.

  “My pastor always says that if you keep choosing the same type of man, then you are in a cycle and you need to change cycles,” Kyla continued.

  Dionne thought about that as the waitress brought them another round of drinks. “All I ask for is an honest Christian man who has good morals. Someone I can trust completely, who I can count on no matter what, and who has a good sense of humor and knows how to communicate,” Dionne finally said as she took a sip of her cranberry spritzer.

  Trina flashed a smile. “Girl, you just described Jesus. You better lower your standards a little and work with what you get.”

  “That would be a no!” Dionne exclaimed. “I lowered my standards and it got me all the busters I’ve dealt with up until this point. I’m through lowering my standards. Roland has opened my eyes. I’m prepared to wait on my prince.” Dionne didn’t know who she was trying to convince more—her friends or herself.

  Trina tapped on her glass, making it ding. “You’re waiting on a prince?” she asked. “Then prepare to grow old alone.”

  Everyone laughed, except Dionne.

  Chapter 13

  Dionne stared at the kiwi green BCBG warm-up suit that hugged the mannequin’s body. It was similar to the no-name gear she had on right now, except it looked expensive. Dionne fingered the knit material, debating whether to shell out the money, even though she really didn’t have it.

  She decided against the idea. Usually she loved shopping, and being broke had never stopped her before. But right now she didn’t even feel like making the effort. Dionne knew she had to be down in the dumps if a trip to the mall wasn’t cheering her up. But it wasn’t just depression over the breakup with Roland. A bout of morning (or, rather, afternoon) sickness was kicking her butt.

  “I think that would look so cute on you,” Rosolyn said as she walked up to her sister. They were inside the new Neiman Marcus, which had just been built at Memorial City Mall. Rosolyn was dressed in a tracksuit, too; but with that elastic at the ankles, hers looked like something Aunt Ida would wear.

  “Yeah, Auntie Di, that’s tight,” Bryson said.

  Dionne tousled his curly hair. She always loved being around her adorable little nephew. Bryson was spoiled rotten since he was the only child in their family. But he was still basically a good kid. “What do you know about something being tight?” she said, a smile finally crossing her face. “You ain’t but seven.”

  “Seven and a half,” he replied. “And I know when somethin’ is tight.”

  “What did I tell you about that language?” Rosolyn chastised.

  Bryson poked out his lips, then turned his attention back to his Game Boy. He’d begged to come to the mall with them and Dionne could tell by the look on his face that it was a decision he now regretted.

  Rosolyn shot him a stern look before turning back to Dionne. “Seriously, though. That outfit is cute. Why don’t you get it?”

  “Please,” Dionne responded, fingering the outfit again. “You know I can’t afford anything in this store. I thought about getting it, but then I wouldn’t have any electricity to see how good I looked in it because I wouldn’t have the money to pay my light bill.” The meager salary she was paid as a receptionist at a travel agency would never bring her the lifestyle she desired. She found herself once again regretting dropping out of Prairie View her junior year. She’d kept promising herself that she’d go back, but so far that had been nothing more than talk. The one time she’d gotten serious about going back, Roland had come along. And since he always had a thick roll of money, her education once again took the back burner.

  Roland hadn’t been big on dating, but he did shower Dionne with fine things. He worked as an insurance claims adjuster, but Dionne knew he was dabbling in something shady because he always had a pocketful of cash. One night when she was at his place, some well-dressed man named Link had dropped by. Dionne had excused herself but watched from the other room as the man had slid Roland a wad of money and told him to pad the damage claim for his company, Casper Dealings. At first Dionne was shocked, but then Roland had given her money to go shopping so she didn’t say anything about it. She should have known then, she told herself. A man who could cheat at his business could cheat at home.

  “You know what? Can we go? I’m really not in the mood to shop,” Dionne told her sister. Thinking about Roland had gotten her depressed all over again.

  “Let’s go to Marble Slab Creamery,” Rosolyn announced. She draped her arm through Dionne’s and led her out of the store. “I bet some strawberry and banana ice cream could cheer you up.”

  Dionne decided against protesting and followed her sister out. She knew nothing, not even her favorite ice cream, could bring her out of this slump.

  Dionne had broken down and called Roland again yesterday. He’d started talking that mess about “me time” again and all but told her he thought it would be best if she didn’t call him anymore.

  They made their way to the food court and walked up to Marble Slab. B
ryson immediately began eyeing the play area.

  “Mommy, can I go play?” he begged.

  “What about your ice cream?” she asked.

  “I’ll get it later. Please.” He clasped his hands together and batted his big puppy dog eyes.

  Rosolyn smiled. “Fine, since I can see you from here. We’ll be sitting right there.” She pointed at a small table near the play area. “You only have about ten minutes before—” Bryson dashed off before she could finish her sentence. Rosolyn shook her head as she walked up to the counter and ordered for both herself and Dionne, who was already heading for the table.

  “How long are you going to be in a foul mood?” Rosolyn asked after handing the cup to her sister.

  “You just don’t understand,” Dionne said as she took a nibble of her ice cream. “Your life is so perfect.”

  Rosolyn sat down and chuckled as she played with her ice cream. “Nobody’s life is perfect, little sister.”

  Dionne put her spoon down and massaged her temples. Her head had been pounding ever since her conversation with Roland yesterday. “I just don’t get it. What’s so wrong with me? Why can’t I find a husband?”

  Rosolyn spent a few seconds weighing her words before she said, “Honestly, you seem to be in love with the idea of marriage and not the idea of love.”

  Dionne cut her eyes at her sister. “What the heck does that mean?”

  “Just what I said. How about you look for love and just let marriage come.”

  “I have been looking for love,” Dionne protested. “Shoot, I loved Roland. And I loved Greg before that. And Mike before that.”

  Rosolyn shook her head. “Let’s see: Greg told you before you started dating that he couldn’t be monogamous. But you thought you could change him. And Mike, the only date you ever went on with Mike was to Costco to pick up free samples of food. You let him convince you that that foolishness was romantic. And you found out just how much he really loved you when he wiped out your checking account.” She held up a finger, thinking. “And the only time you saw Roland was at three in the morning when he was calling to say he was on his way over. You’ve never met his family. Yet you think you two were in love?” Dionne wouldn’t meet her eye. She hated when Rosolyn acted like the know-it-all big sister. “Let me see, what else?” Rosolyn went on. “Oh yeah, he was cheating on you and his wife! That’s some kind of love.”

  Dionne didn’t respond. Her sister was right, but she did love Roland. She didn’t care what anyone said.

  “And I keep trying to tell you the grass is not always greener on the other side,” Rosolyn continued. “Look at Vanessa. She was married and look what happened to her.”

  “That’s because Vanessa doesn’t know how to take care of her man. I took good care of Roland.”

  “Yeah, so did his wife and his other girlfriend.”

  Tears welled up in Dionne’s eyes. Rosolyn relaxed her harsh look as she noticed Bryson walking back over to their table. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said that, but you’ve got to shake yourself out of this slump. It’s been two weeks.” Rosolyn repeated some words of advice she’d given her baby sister before. “Get to know Dionne. Fall in love with Dionne. Then maybe you won’t have a problem getting someone else to love you as well.” She smiled just as Bryson came bouncing toward her.

  “I’m ready for my ice cream now,” he announced.

  Rosolyn stood up, transforming easily into a mother. “I’ll be right back.”

  Dionne sat for a few minutes, letting her sister’s words sink in. Rosolyn was right, she thought. Rosolyn was so balanced. Rosolyn had love for herself. She had just resolved to listen to Rosolyn’s advice when her eyes suddenly grew wide. She recognized the wild red bushy hair immediately. Even better, she recognized the tall, muscular man sitting across from her. He was playfully feeding the woman french fries.

  “What are you looking at?” Rosolyn asked as she and Bryson returned to the table. When Dionne didn’t respond, she turned and scanned the room. “Uh-oh…”

  “That low-down—” Dionne stood up.

  “Dionne, wait!” Rosolyn said, reaching for her sister’s arm. But she wasn’t fast enough. Dionne had already begun stomping over to their table.

  “What happened to some ‘me’ time?” Dionne snapped as she approached.

  Roland looked up in shock. “Dionne, wha…”

  “What’s the matter, cat got your tongue?”

  The woman chuckled as recognition set in. “Well, well, well. If it isn’t the other woman. Excuse me,” she said, taking a french fry from Roland’s outstretched hand, “but me and my man aren’t in the mood for company.”

  “I don’t think I was talking to you,” Dionne growled, holding her palm up toward Tasha’s face.

  Tasha stood up, ready to do battle. “No, you didn’t. I knew I should’ve kicked your butt the other day.”

  Dionne didn’t back down from anyone. “What day would that be?” she said sweetly. “Would that be the day me and Roland spent making love to each other? Or the day that this coward here”—she pointed at Roland—“scaled a fence to get away from you?”

  “Dionne, chill,” Roland said as he nervously looked around the food court. He never had been one for scenes.

  Right about now, Dionne couldn’t care less. “Don’t tell me to chill,” she spat. Personally, she didn’t like scenes either, but she could not believe Roland would show off this tramp in public. “You just told me you wasn’t messing with her.”

  “Well, then he lied.” The woman folded her arms across her chest and rolled her neck.

  “I didn’t tell you I wasn’t seeing her. I said it’s not like that.” Roland tried pleading. “Dionne, look, please don’t come up in here starting nothing.”

  By that point Rosolyn was standing shoulder to shoulder with her sister. “Yeah, Dionne,” she whispered, “let’s get out of here. You can deal with this later. In private.”

  Dionne snatched her arm away. “Don’t start nothing?” she exclaimed. She knew she was getting emotional, but the pain she felt in her heart was unbearable. “I think you started something when you lied to me.”

  Tasha leaned in to Roland. “See, baby, I told you when you mess around in the gutter, you can’t help but pick up trash.”

  No, she didn’t have the nerve to call me gutter trash. “Oh, I got your trash,” Dionne said, grabbing Tasha’s bushy ponytail. She was surprised when it came off in her hand, leaving a stub of natural hair sticking straight out.

  “Owwww!” Tasha screamed, grabbing her head. Before she could say another word, Dionne pounced on her. She wasn’t a fighter, but something in her just snapped.

  “Dionne, no!” Rosolyn screamed as the people seated around them scattered out of the way.

  “Y’all stop,” Roland said, stepping off to one side. “C’mon, you two.” He had the nerve to be laughing like it was funny.

  Rosolyn grabbed Dionne’s arm again and pulled her back. “Have you lost your mind?”

  “Yeah, she must have!” Tasha screamed from the floor. “And I’m about to kill her!”

  Dionne lunged at Tasha again just as she pulled herself up off the floor. This time, though, Tasha managed to grab Dionne’s hair and push her face down on the table. “Girl, you don’t know who you’re messin’ with!” Tasha shouted as she picked up Dionne’s head and slammed it onto the table. Dionne cried out in pain.

  Two security guards finally showed up and managed to pull Tasha away. Set loose, Dionne scrambled away. Her chest was heaving as she tried to calm herself down. Luckily, Tasha was as wild as a banshee, so Security focused completely on her.

  “Why y’all on me?” Tasha screamed, struggling to free herself from their grip. “She started it!”

  “You see what you have me doing?” Dionne shouted at Roland. “You got me up in here fighting!”

  Rosolyn took Dionne’s hand, firmly this time. “Come on, Dionne. Let’s get out of here.”

  “You’d better chil
l out before I have you arrested,” one of the guards said to Dionne.

  “Ain’t nobody got you doing nothing,” Roland said, still laughing.

  Rosolyn squeezed Dionne’s arm again. At that moment Dionne hated him with every bone in her body. Her eyes filled with tears as she said, “You make me sick,” before breaking free from her sister’s grip and stomping off.

  Rosolyn didn’t catch up with Dionne until they were outside in the parking lot. Bryson stood next to her, a look of terror on his face. “Auntie, are you okay?” he softly asked.

  Rosolyn took his hand and marched him toward the car. “Auntie’s fine, baby. She just got a little mad.” She cut her eyes at Dionne, who opened her mouth in protest.

  “It wasn’t my fault. I—”

  “Unh-unh.” Rosolyn cut her off. “Don’t say a word. Don’t say a word to me until we get home and I can get my son away from this foolishness.”

  No one spoke until they were back out on the freeway. “You know you were out of order, right?” Rosolyn finally asked.

  Dionne leaned her head back on the headrest. “Just let it go, Ros.”

  “I can’t do that.” She continued driving, fingers rigid on the steering wheel, then sighed heavily. “You know, maybe you need to find you another man. That will help you get Roland out of your system.”

  Dionne gazed out the window. “I don’t want another man.”

  “Just somebody to help you take your mind off Roland.” Rosolyn’s eyes grew bright, like an idea was just popping into her head. “And I know just the person.”

  “Please,” Dionne groaned. “I am not trying to meet any of those busters from your church.”

  Rosolyn grinned. “No, I think you’ll like this one. Give me a minute to find some things out. If he’s single, then I definitely think he’s the one.”

  “Whatever,” Dionne mumbled. She wasn’t paying her sister any attention. There was only one man she wanted, and she’d just seen him at the mall with another woman.