by Cydney Rax
“Nothing!”
“Don’t lie to me. I know when you’re lying.”
“Then since you know when I’m not telling the truth, and you have such insight into what I’m thinking at all times, why ask me what’s wrong?”
“I want to hear it come from your mouth.”
“You’re tripping as usual.”
“Don’t put the blame for your rotten mood on me, Neil. Shoot, I’m in here thinking about you, trying to prepare something good for you to eat.”
“Love is more than about what you can put in my stomach, Anya!”
I throw an uncracked egg at the wall and scream.
Neil runs to me and places his hand over my mouth. “Woman, shut up. You better be glad we have the house to ourselves.”
I yank my head back, but Neil maintains a solid grip. “No, you listen to me. Calm down, Anya. You’ve been acting so freaking moody lately, it’s unreal. Are you gonna be okay? Can I trust you to not get loud?”
He gently releases his hand and holds my shoulders. “Whatever you’re going through, it’s going to be all right. Okay, Anya?”
“Have a seat. I have something to tell you.”
We sit at the breakfast bar on black leather stools.
“Babe, I have been holding back, and it’s hard to tell you what I need to tell you, but …”
“Just say it, please.”
“What do you see when you look at me? When you stare in my eyes, when you see this?” I point to my stomach, arms, and thighs.
“Anya, is this a trick question? Do you want me to say I see an overweight slob?”
“Well, I wouldn’t believe that, because it’s not true.”
“Exactly. You don’t weigh what you used to weigh, but it doesn’t matter because I still love you. Now, you could stand to do some sit-ups….”
“I know, but even if I did, it wouldn’t do any good. My doctor told me I need to have surgery. I’m scared. I hate anesthesia.”
“What? Why?”
I explain to him about the ultrasound and the fibroids and how sick I am of stinky menstrual periods.
“You’re just now telling me? Were you going to have the surgery without letting me know, too?”
“Of course not. I’m sorry for taking so long in telling you, but I just wish I weren’t in this position. I’ve heard about other women who had surgery and they didn’t make it through. And Kanye West’s mother passed after surgical complications. I’m afraid to die, Neil.”
“Anya, are you serious? You’re not going to die!”
“I will one day. I am not ready for this.” I stand up and pace the kitchen. Neil is right behind me.
“You gotta have faith and think positive and know that everything will turn out fine. You will be better than ever, and you’ll never have to buy expensive maxipads again. Isn’t that something to look forward to?”
“I guess,” I say wistfully, thinking how stupid he actually sounds. “More important than that is will you still be attracted to me?”
“Now, Anya, you know me better than that. I’m not that shallow.”
“What about …”
“What about?”
“Dani!” There! I said it.
“What does she have to do with this?”
“Everything!”
“You’re being silly. So you’re telling me that if you don’t have the surgery it will make you feel better and more on the same level as Dani? Ha!” he says and walks away so I can’t see his face. “She’s not thinking about me anyway. Scottie’s the man who has her attention.”
“Do you have to sound so depressed when you say that?”
“I’m not depressed. Just facing the truth.”
“Neil, look at me.”
“No, I’m good.”
“But I’m not, so turn your face around so I can see your eyes.”
He turns around and averts his eyes like he wishes he could be anywhere else instead of standing before me.
“You still love her?”
“No!”
“You’re a terrible liar.”
“Again, since you know the answer to the question, why ask? Not that you truly know. You just think you know.”
“Hmm, I don’t want to talk about any of this anymore. It hurts. It does. I don’t know what to think or what to do.”
“Anya, in spite of you feeling all these insecurities,” he says, “I’m positive you’ll figure out what to do and come out stronger.”
“Yep,” I say with sadness. “If I do have the surgery, it’ll definitely have to happen early next year. December is almost here, and I am determined to see my fortieth birthday.”
— 10 —
DANI
Love Is Sometimes Selfish
It’s the fourth weekend in October, almost three months since I’ve met Neil’s brother, one week before Halloween. Scottie decided he wants to show me off, so we’re on our way to a costume party that one of his friends is hosting.
I feel it’s only appropriate that Scottie meets my close girlfriend Summer Holiday. She’s heard about him, and now’s her chance to see him face-to-face. A week ago, I called Summer and asked her to meet us at the get-together. This moment is huge. I’ve never taken this long to introduce Summer to the man in my life. But now that Scottie and I have been going strong for months, it seems like the right thing to do.
“Why you so jumpy?” Scottie asks me while I’m seated next to him in his car.
“Do I look petrified?” I ask him as he’s driving north on I-45. “I just have so many mixed emotions. How do I look?”
“Like I told you when you were getting dressed, I ain’t feeling the cop outfit, but I gotta admit, your legs look hot, hot, hot, baby.”
“Of course, you’d say that.” My costume consists of a long-sleeved navy blue jumpsuit with shorts that come midway down my thighs. Silver plastic handcuffs are fastened to a wide black belt that fits tightly around my waist. My hair, which is combed straight, is covered by a police hat with a wide black plastic rim. And I am wearing thigh-high black leather boots.
“Please, Mrs. Officer. Don’t arrest me,” Scottie sings.
“I’m not a Mrs.”
“Not yet.”
“Oh, hush.”
I settle in my seat. The temperature is amazing, almost eighty degrees on this pleasant Saturday evening.
“I hope Brax is okay,” I murmur. “He was pitching a fit when he saw us sneaking out of the house. Earlier, when I was getting dressed, he ran to his room looking for his plastic pumpkin and his Transformers outfit. I had to tell him over and over it’s not Halloween yet. That boy took one look at me and didn’t believe a word I said.”
“Aw, that’s my little man.” Scottie laughs, then flashes me a serious look. “My momma loves him to death. I wish my father could have seen him.”
“You don’t talk much about your dad.”
“I know. I was fourteen when Daddy died. I guess that’s why Neil acts how he does with me. But a brother is not a dad. Neil can never take his place.”
“Of course he can’t. I’m sure Neil knows that.”
“I dunno. Sometimes he treats me like I’m still little Prescott. I hate that.”
“I know, Scottie. But I’m positive he has your best interests at heart.”
“If that’s true, then you and I wouldn’t be together in this car right now headed to a wild party.”
“Maybe you’re right.” I bite my bottom lip. “Just because Neil has your best interests at heart doesn’t mean he has mine.”
“Hey.” I raise my voice and carefully look in the outside mirror. “Watch your speed.”
“Aw, shit.” Scottie slows down from going almost eighty in a sixty-five zone. A police car pulls up on the side of us and drives at the same pace as Scottie. He looks straight ahead. After several minutes, the patrol car increases its speed and within seconds is way ahead of us.
“Bastards. All of ’em.”
“You’re good
, baby. Just try to drive the limit, okay?”
Scottie doesn’t speak another word to me for the rest of the trip. We exit the freeway in The Woodlands and coast along until we come to an intersection that leads to a private road. We stop in front of a white frame house complete with dozens of towering trees and a horseshoe driveway. A series of orange lanterns sits on the ground next to several wooden posts.
“Hey,” I tell him once he turns off the ignition. “Let me call and see where Summer is in case she needs better directions.”
I get her on the phone and realize she’s about five minutes away. “If you don’t mind, I want to wait in the car. Summer and I can go in together.”
“No problem. ’Bye!”
The minute Scottie leaves, my cell phone rings.
“What’s up, you dope?”
“Is that any way to answer the phone? I was wondering about Brax.”
“Then you should call your mother and ask,” I tell Neil. “Sorry for being such a bitch. You know your son. He was complaining and begging me to let him put on his Halloween costume. I kept telling him the holiday is in one week. He looked at me and said, ‘Hal-ween is tonight, Mommy.’”
“The boy is smart. You can’t lie to him, Dani.”
“So are you really calling to see how Brax is doing, or are you calling for another reason?” I can’t resist messing with this man.
“Dani, I just haven’t seen him all day, since it’s your weekend.” His voice is warm, even sexy.
“Neil, you could have kept Brax tonight if you wanted.”
“I couldn’t. Anya wanted me to take her to see a play at Theatre Under the Stars.”
“Aw, good for you. Y’all need to get out for a change.”
“Dani!”
“Neil.” I laugh hysterically. “You don’t know how to treat a woman, I swear.”
I hear him make disapproving noises. I know I’ve gotten under his skin.
“I don’t know how to treat a woman, but I do know how to treat my wife.”
“Oh, here he goes again with the wife thing.”
“That’s something you know nothing about.”
“Well, if your brother has his way, that’s going to change.”
“Don’t be stupid, Dani. My brother is infatuated with you, but … he can’t marry you.”
“And why the hell not?” I say indignantly. “You think I’m going to spend the rest of my days being some man’s lifelong fantasy? I’m not good enough to be a Mrs.?”
“I didn’t say that.” He pauses. “You could have been mine.”
“Okay, I’ve gotta go, Neil. My girlfriend just parked next to me, and you’re talking unbelievably shitty right now. I don’t appreciate you saying things like that. You know good and well you turned me down. I couldn’t be your wife because you were too scared to get divorced. So there!” I hang up on him and open the passenger door of the car to greet my girl.
She emerges from her Corvette wearing a black Spandex halter and matching leggings and a red miniskirt. A decorative red rose is clasped to the side of her brownish red shoulder-length hair. A black-and-red choker is fastened around her thin neck. She told me she was coming dressed as a Spanish dancer.
Summer refers to herself as a “mutt” because she is known for saying “Like a cake made from scratch, I’m mixed up with some of everything.” Her mom is Asian, African American, and German. Her dad is Hispanic and Irish. She told me when she fills out job applications it takes her fifteen minutes to decide what race she wants to be that day. She used to live in my apartment complex but last year relocated to a more luxurious apartment closer to downtown. We’ve kept in touch and I consider her the closest girlfriend I’ve ever had.
When we first met and were getting to know each other, I spilled the beans and told her the lowdown about me and my baby daddy. Summer, kind and sympathetic, agreed to step in and act as the peacemaker when it comes to our child. Brax loves her to death, and she feels the same about him. I consider her Brax’s godmother even though she’s only twenty-four.
“Hey mamacita!” I squeal.
“Okay, where’s this godlike man you’ve been chilling with, girl? I bet I can point him out based on the photos you’ve texted me. Sorry I’ve been so busy with Andre that I’m just now able to hook up with you.”
We knock on the door one time and enter the one-story ranch. The ceiling is covered with a black plastic spiderweb net. Orange and black helium-filled balloons bob along the ceiling. The sounds of thunder and lightning play in the background through surround-sound speakers. Dozens of people are packed in the dimly lit living room holding drinks, talking, and dancing.
“Damn, it’s so dark in here I can’t even see the white people, let alone the black ones,” Summer jokes.
“Girl, hush.” I am in front of her and reach behind me to grab her hand. “Let’s keep going. I hear people in the backyard, too.”
We pass by a bearded magician who’s doing card tricks.
“Pick a card,” he says, “any card.”
We giggle and run toward a lighted room.
“Hallelujah, we’re out of the dark. I’ve never been so glad to see a kitchen in my life.”
“That sounds funny coming from a chick who doesn’t like to cook.” Summer laughs. “How are you going to keep Scottie’s attention if you don’t cook?”
“I cook in the bedroom.”
“You’ve never told me about that.”
“Some recipes must remain secrets.”
“He must be putting it on ya, then. I heard that.”
We scoop up a tray of cheese popcorn and pick out two small cups of orange punch.
“Ready to go outside?” I ask.
Scottie calmly walks into the kitchen. I grin at his half-buttoned purple silk shirt, white elephant pants with two pockets stitched in the front, and white platform shoes with matching shoelaces. He takes one look at me, yells, and rushes toward me. He picks me up around my waist and swings me around. Orange drink leaps out of my cup and spills on the floor.
“Scottie, dammit, put me down. You act like you haven’t seen me today.”
“Sorry, babe. Don’t worry, it can be wiped up.”
He walks over to a paper towel dispenser and tears off a sheet.
“Here.” He hands it to me.
“No, you made me spill, so you can wipe it up for me!”
Scottie bends down and vigorously wipes up the orange drink.
“Hey now, mama. So far, so good, Miss Danielle Frazier. I think you’ve scored a decent man,” Summer gushes.
“Oh, stop. Check him out for more than two seconds before forming your opinion.”
Scottie rises to his feet and extends his free hand. “Scottie Meadows. It’s about time she let us meet, huh? She has a lot of nerve keeping her best friend from her man.”
“Well, Dani just wanted to make sure that you’re a keeper, and she wouldn’t let us meet until that part was secure.”
“Is that right?” he says and grabs me around my waist, hugging and kissing me on the lips. “Am I a keeper, babe?”
I turn the other cheek so he can kiss it, too. He starts nibbling on my ear, and I tilt my head and moan like a kitten getting stroked by its owner.
“Ahem, can’t y’all do that after the party?” Summer teases. “I’m feeling left out.”
“Scottie, let me go. Down, boy!”
He releases me and puts his arm around my shoulder and gestures at Summer.
“So, what do you think? Honestly. How do we look together?”
“You do look like you’re together. Physically, it can’t get any better. But how you click mentally, emotionally, and spiritually is something I wouldn’t know.”
“Well, physical is a good start.” He grins like he’s proud and then asks, “You ever been married?”
“Um, no, that’s probably number eight on the to-do list.”
“It’s number three on mine,” he says.
“Hey, you guys,”
I butt in, “can we please go have a seat or something before we dive into this really deep conversation?”
Scottie tells me okay, then leads the way down a gravel-covered path to an area of the backyard that has a raised oak deck with ten lawn chairs situated around a table filled with sodas, candy, and miniature hot dogs.
Summer and I take a seat while Scottie observes the other guests.
“As you were saying?” Summer asks as she eyes Scottie. “Dani, this is fucking unbelievable. A man with a plan. Do you know how rare that is?”
“Having a plan is nothing. Executing it is what’s important.”
“Well, I not only have goals, I have the vision and determination to see all this stuff happen in my life. Don’t forget I’ve practically been on my own since I was a teen,” Scottie says.
“I never knew all this.”
“After my father passed away, I set out to make my own path. Neil couldn’t keep up with me.”
“Ahhh, the infamous older brother who loved your woman before you even knew she existed. How’s that working out?”
“Summer!” I shriek. “Not now.”
Scottie turns away from us and holds a conversation with a guy dressed in a red Thriller jacket.
“Why not? This is something you’ll have to deal with. It’s obvious your boo is crazy about you. I notice how he keeps staring at you, smiling, and he looks like he wants to touch your arm, your hand, your face every second. He knows who he wants and isn’t ashamed. But the fact that his brother’s child could one day be his stepson is an absolute bitch. It is quite fascinating in my opinion.”
“Summer, wipe the grin off your face,” I say, feeling embarrassed. Everything she’s saying is true. But I’m just not ready to face the seriousness of our complicated situation. I have tried so very hard to keep a tight lid on my emotions when it comes to how I feel about Scottie. Do I like Scottie for himself, or is it because I could never have his brother the way I wanted to have him?
Scottie finally takes a seat next to us.
“Don’t think you’re the first one to have to deal with this,” Summer replies. “Have you heard the true Hollywood story about how Woody Allen married Mia Farrow’s young adopted daughter? I saw it on one of those entertainment shows recently. Anyway, it was such a huge scandal. But Woody and the girl didn’t care. They went on with their lives, and I think they’re still married to this day.”
