Love the One You're With
Page 29
I smiled. “Thank you for both the ride and the high of my life—literally.”
We laughed.
“Not to mention the jood movie and the very jood food,” I added.
“Ha, which dishes—the entrée, the dessert, or the salads we had this morning?” He winked.
“All of the above, especially those salads.”
“You are most welcome. Hay, I aim to please, and I’m a man of my word: I said I’d take you on a trip, I said you’d be experiencing a lot of firsts, and most of all, I said I don’t meet you and eat you on the same night.”
I giggled.
“I guess I’ll see you next lifetime,” he predicted.
“You believe in people having more than one life?”
“No. I’m talking about another time in this life. The time was wrong—but we weren’t.”
Silence.
He tapped his helmet. “I get the feeling that neither one of us …”
“Then let’s not say it.”
“I can go for that. But neither one of us wants to be the first to walk away either.”
I tapped his front wheel with my right foot. “You wouldn’t exactly be walking away.”
“You know what I mean.”
I nodded. “I do. Well … why don’t we both walk away at the same time. On the count of three, you go your way”—I pointed north—“and I’ll go mine.” I pointed south with my left elbow.
“Okay.” He revved up the engine. “Who’s gonna do the count?”
“I will.”
“All right. I’ll read your lips.” He held out his hand; he searched my eyes. “Next lifetime?”
I folded his hand into mine. “Next lifetime.”
We smiled. He placed his helmet on.
I took a very deep breath. “One … two … three …”
I repeated the heel turn I did yesterday as he zoomed up the block. I quickly spun around to watch him as he rode out of sight.
I cheated—again.
18
LOVE STORIES
“So …,” B.D. began, after I had told him the entire story, “do you have any regrets?”
“Well … I do regret doing it.”
“Mmm-hmm. But you don’t regret enjoying it.”
A grin formed across my face.
“That, no one ever regrets,” he declared. “What would be the point of doing it? But you do regret doing it … at least that says you have a conscience.”
We sipped our tea in silence. We were at Tiffany’s, a restaurant in the Vill.
“I guess I’m trying to figure out why I did it,” I confessed.
“Like I said before, the man is a Sexy Ass Motherfucker—that ain’t reason enough?”
“But I’ve been surrounded by SAMs the past two weeks; why him? I keep thinking that … there must be something wrong with what Pooquie and I have.”
That he was not featuring; he wore the same frown Gene had given me during that infamous game of Truth or Shade. “You fooled around; don’t be no fool about it.”
“What do you mean?”
“You know what I mean. That is the trap most folk like to conveniently fall into: they stepped outside of their union because something is wrong with their union. I mean, they gotta blame what they did on something, right? But they know that ain’t the case—and so do you. You didn’t do it because you fell out of love with Pooquie. Or because you fell out of like with him. Or because the spark you two share is no longer there. Or because you were feeling neglected. Or ignored. Or bored. You did it because you wanted to. The question you need to be asking is not what this says about your relationship with Pooquie, but what it says about you.”
“What do you think it says about me?” I mumbled.
“It says that you are just like the 999,999 other folks who also decided to cheat on their significant others the same time you did: human.”
I nodded.
“You stepped out on Pooquie, but at least you didn’t step out of yourself. You creeped, but you creeped with a man who could clearly see you belonged to someone else and, in his own way, respected that boundary. Y’all only talked about certain things—and only did certain things. Believe you me, if your lips had so much as grazed his, you and Pooquie would not be celebrating eighteen months together in a couple of weeks.”
“I wouldn’t throw away what I have with Pooquie—”
“Uh-huh, this from the same man who emphatically stated that no other man could turn his head. Not only did Montee turn your head, he turned your tail.”
Indeed.
“Montee knew he could only go so far with you; if he stepped over the line, he would’ve been in over his head—and his heart. The man didn’t want to break up your happy home, he just wanted to borrow the welcome mat for a while—and he knew exactly where to lay it down.”
He sho’ ’nuff did.
Sips. Silence.
He tapped his teacup. “You two meeting … it must have been fate.”
“You think so?” I was wondering about that myself …
“Sometimes the universe presents us with opportunities, just to see what we will do. And, if my calculations are right again, you and Montee kept running into each other every three days—and things usually happen in threes.”
Wow … that we were running into each other often, I noticed; that it was happening in a particular numerical sequence, I hadn’t. B.D.’s not as ditzy or dense as he pretends to be.
“And, given the way you two … connected, he could be your soul mate,” he predicted.
My eyes bugged. “My soul mate?”
“Yes, your soul mate.”
“I don’t feel for him the way I feel for Pooquie,” I objected.
“Who says that the way you feel for Pooquie is the way you’re supposed to feel for a soul mate? A soul mate doesn’t necessarily have to be someone you fall in love and settle down with. Babyface isn’t my soul mate.”
“He isn’t?”
“Nope. And I’m not his.”
“Then, what are you two if you’re not soul mates?”
“Partners in love—and in life.”
Hmm … “Then who can a soul mate be if he isn’t someone you fall in love with?”
He put on his thinking cap for this one. “It can be someone you immediately recognize—but have never met or seen before. Someone whose eyes tell a story you’ve only seen played out in your dreams. Someone you feel such a seismic bond with, it’s scary. Someone who may only appear for a brief moment—but makes a lasting impression, maybe for a lifetime.” He shot me a quizzical glance. “I take it by the expression on your face that Montee falls into one if not all of those categories …?”
“Uh … yeah.”
He nodded. “Mmm-hmm. Fate. He came into your life—now—for a reason.”
“Why?”
“Maybe this was a test of will—or better yet, willpower. To prove to you that love don’t love nobody. Not only can you get hurt, you can cause some of that hurt.” He paused. “Are you gonna tell Pooquie?”
“I … I don’t know.”
“You more than likely will. You’re just not the keeping-secrets type.”
He knows me well …
“But if you’re gonna tell him, tell him at the right time,” he advised.
“And what would be the right time?”
“After he tells you about his affair.”
“You think he had an affair?”
He shrugged. “As you yourself learned over the past two weeks, anything is possible. But some stones are better left unturned, so don’t rock the boat unless you are ready to be knocked out of it without a life jacket.”
Silence.
“Your secret’s safe with me,” he promised. He raised his cup. “Just another page in your life …”
I lifted mine. “Yeah.”
Clink.
19
DADDY’S HOME
“Pooquie?”
“Yeah?”
“Are you okay?”
“Yeah. Why?”
“The last time you gave it up like that … ha, was the very first time you gave it up.”
I slapped him on the right booty cheek. He giggled.
“You were workin’ that back out somethin’ fierce. I thought you were gonna break it!”
He laughed. “You should talk, standin’ on yo’ shoulders givin’ it up. Day-um. I ain’t know you could do that.”
“There’s a lot of things I can do you don’t know about.”
“Oh, yeah?”
“Uh-huh. Very special occasions call for very special positions.”
“They sho ’nuff do.”
Smack, smack, smack.
“Not to mention a very special drive home from the airport,” I purred.
“Yeah. I knew I was gonna see you in tha backseat of that limo, but I ain’t think you was gonna be butt bootay nekkid!”
“I wasn’t totally naked—I was wearing a big red ribbon around my waist.”
“Baby, pleeze. Like that ribbon was coverin’ up anythang?”
I giggled. “I asked Gene if he would be our chauffeur, but the last thing he wanted to hear was us smoochin’. He heard enough of that when we were on the phone at his house.”
“I bet. B.D. ain’t seem ta mind. He was prob’ly enjoyin’ da show.”
“Oh, he was!”
“And that ’Welcome Home, Pooquie’ sign B.D. was holdin’ … that wasn’t no sign, it was like a billboard!”
We cracked up.
Silence.
“So how does it feel?” I queried.
“What?”
“Doing your first movie.”
“Uh … I don’t know. It was a lota work, but it was madd fun. And now that it’s over … it all happened so fast, but it went so slow.”
“Whatcha mean?”
“You know. It’s like … when you in tha thick of it, time just goes so slow. It was a long-ass two weeks.”
“I know.”
“But it was only two weeks; it wasn’t like it was two months. Even tho’ it felt like it.”
“I know. Believe me, I do.” I sighed. “We’ll have to get used to your being away …”
“Yeah. But it ain’t gonna matter how long we apart, or how far apart we are. Long as I know you waitin’ right here …”
“That I will be.”
Smack, smack, smack.
I glanced at the nightstand. “It’s almost nine o’clock. You know Junior is just waiting by that phone for you to call.”
“Ah … yeah. I’ll call him in like five minutes. I just wanna lay like this wit’ you a little while longer.”
“Okay.”
Silence.
“Little Bit?”
“Yes, Pooquie?”
“I missed you much.”
“I missed you much much.”
“Much much?”
“Yup. Twice as much.”
“Then I guess you gonna hafta show me twice as much.” He squeezed my ass.
“You know I will.”
Smack.
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
Pooquie, Little Bit, Li’l Brotha Man & I would like 2 thank …
God
Bam Bam, for continuing to remind (God)Daddy what life is really all about
Lonnell “LW” Williams & Prince Albert, my “Jood Judys” for being so lovely and so looney!
John McGregor, for the brotherly representation
Kelli Martin, for the sisterly, editorial eye
Manie Barron, for bringing us to Amistad and respecting my vision
the ph-ph-ph-phyne Bruthaz of Rundu and Champion Men, for the inspiration
Aretha, Luther, Dionne & Friends, Mary Jane Girls, Meshell, James, Oleta, the O’Jays (two times!), Minnie, Grover & Bill (and Will), Lady T, Donny, Stevie, Uncanny Alliance, Maria, Karyn, Jennifer, and Jermaine, for helping us “name” each chapter
and to all readers around the world who have adopted us. Thanks for letting our family become a part of yours....
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
An honors graduate of the Columbia University School of Journalism, JAMES EARL HARDY is the author of the bestselling novels B-Boy Blues, 2nd Time Around, If Only for One Nite, and The Day Eazy-E Died. He lives in New York City.
Visit www.AuthorTracker.com for exclusive information on your favorite HarperCollins authors.
Praise For James EARL HARDY’S
Love the one you’re with
Black Issues Book Review
Best of 2002 Recommended Fiction
“The light storyline is generously studded with slangy vernacular and a host of barbed, campy one-liners, especially during the warm and wicked gay-friends-as-surrogate-family gatherings. A well-documented ‘soundtrack’ (Hardy knows his music) and scenes with Pooquie’s young son lend a soft glow to the story.”
—Publishers Weekly
“Hardy’s greatest strength has always been chronicling the lives of what he calls ‘same-gender-loving men,’ and he adds subtle shading to the portrait here, revealing how a group of friends functions as a family.”
—Kirkus Reviews
“Hardy’s crisp and authentic dialogue, biting humor, heartbreaking drama, and unabashed celebration of culture makes this book a genuinely good treat from start to finish.”
—Venus
COPYRIGHT
This is a work of fiction. The characters, incidents, and dialogues are products of the author’s imagination and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
LOVE THE ONE YOU’RE WITH. Copyright © 2002 by James Earl Hardy. All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the nonexclusive, nontransferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, decompiled, reverse-engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins e-books.
“So So Satisfied” composed by Nickolas Ashford and Valerie Simpson was reprinted with permission, © 1976 by Nick-O-Val Music Company, Inc.
“All the Man You Need,” “Sometimes,” and “You’re Gonna Love What I Got” composed by James Earl Hardy, © 2000 by It’s All Jood Music/A Division of It’s All Jood, Inc.
The Library of Congress has catalogued the hardcover edition as follows:
Hardy, James Earl.
Love the one you’re with : a novel.—1st ed.
p. cm
ISBN 0-06-621248-0
1. African American Gays—Fiction. 2. New York (N.Y.)—Fiction. 3. Gay men—Fiction. I. Title.
PS3558.A62375 L68 2002
813'.54—dc21 2002066630
ISBN 0-06-051239-3 (PBK.)
EPub Edition © FEBRUARY 2013 ISBN: 9780062279446
03 04 05 06 WBC/QW 10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1
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