“Hey, what’s up?” she chirped into the phone.
My answer was to sob loudly into her ear.
“I’ll be right there after I pick up Denise,” she responded.
*****
“She’s pregnant?!” Denise shouted after I brought her and Trevia up to speed on my little trip to Lloyd’s.
I nodded. “Yeah, I can’t believe this shit. I mean. How did I miss this?” I took a bite of the ice cream Trevia had brought with her.
Denise shoveled a piece of her mom’s sweet potato pie into her mouth, and between bites said, “Because he had to be experienced at cheating.”
“But I’m not dumb. I know the signs from my other relationships and from watching you two. Hell, my daddy was a cheater back in the day. I knew better than to get caught off guard like this. I trusted him. Maybe I should’ve just moved in with him when he asked me to.”
Trevia shook her head. “Don’t do that. It’s not your fault. But, just out of curiosity, why didn’t you move in with him?”
I shrugged and placed my bowl on the coffee table. “I like having my own space, and Lloyd is so particular about his stuff. You have to take your shoes off at the door. Stuff like that.”
“Then how in the hell were you going to be married to him?”
“I figured once we married and combined our lives and our stuff we could come to some type of compromise. That’s what you do when you love someone.”
Denise nodded but didn’t respond. Neither did Trevia.
“Y’all think I was stupid, don’t you? We were too mismatched, weren’t we? He hated that I traveled so much even though it’s my job. Said he didn’t get why I like traveling alone. He didn’t like most of my clothes, thought my look was too bohemian, hated my furniture, especially this yellow-ass couch. We were incompatible, and it took him dumping me without telling me he was dumping me for me to realize it. Shit, I’m an idiot.”
“No, you were in love. Believe me, I know how that can shut your damn brain down. It’s like love and logical thinking can’t coexist,” Denise offered. “But I applaud you for not running up on him and his whore and beating their asses.”
“Here, here!” Trevia said, lifting her slice of pie in the air like a wine glass. “Nasty trick needs to be throat punched!”
“Y’all know that’s not my style.”
“Well, it’s my style,” Denise said, flipping her jet-black weave over her shoulder. “That along with slashing tires and taking a bat to a windshield. Lloyd is lucky he messed over you and not me!”
“I know that’s right!” Trevia chimed in.
I was obviously the voice of reason among the three of us, always had been, but even I had to admit the thought of wrecking Lloyd’s shit sounded therapeutic. “Don’t tempt me,” I said.
“I wonder what his new fiancée does for a living since he had a problem with you traveling so much,” Denise said.
“She’s definitely not a beautician,” I mused. “Because that bob was tragic.”
Denise fell back onto the sofa and cackled loudly.
“Nope, she’s a teacher,” Trevia informed us.
“How do you know that?” I asked.
“I told you I checked out Lloyd’s page using my sister’s account. His page led me to her page, where I found out her full name. She doesn’t share much publicly, but there was one photo that was linked to her Instagram account which is public.” She grabbed her phone from the coffee table, swiped at it a few times, and then handed it to me. “See, Tami Fletcher. Kindergarten teacher at Belk Elementary.”
I held the phone and stared at the pictures. Her alone. Her with her friends. Her with her sorors holding up some hand sign. And the most recent picture was of her hand, showcasing her ring. “Bastard bought us the same ring! What did he do? Get a multi-purchase discount?”
“Yeah, I saw that,” Detective Trevia said.
Denise snatched the phone from me. “That sure in the hell is the same ring! What is wrong with him? Son-of-a-bitch!”
I shook my head and stood from the sofa, walked over to the window that overlooked my apartment complex’s pool. “She looks nice. Maybe she didn’t know about us.”
“She knew,” Trevia said.
I glanced at her. “Now how in the world would you know that?”
“Look at her page. There’s no mention of Lloyd anywhere, no pictures of him either. She didn’t even mention his name under the picture of the ring. And all of her friends are under there commenting about how they didn’t know she was seeing anyone. She knew he was taken.”
I shook my head, amazed at her investigative skills. “You should’ve been a PI or something.”
She laughed. “Oh, no. I love making clothes. That’s my thing. Being with Wesley, I have to be able to follow clues. His ass is as slick as they come. That’s how I acquired these skills.”
I reserved any comments I might have had about her man for later, and besides, she knew how I felt about Wesley Anderson. Sure, he was attractive, sexy even, but his job as an exotic dancer exposed him to the one thing he couldn’t resist—women, and a lot of them. For the life of me I never understood why she stayed with him all these years. Trevia was tall and slim with flawless mahogany skin and exotic-looking almond eyes, and she was a beast with a sewing machine. She owned her own boutique and made good money. She didn’t need Wesley’s trifling ass.
“I’ve been through some stuff, too,” Denise said, “but I don’t have your skills, Trevia. You need to teach me your ways for the next man I get.”
“Why, so you can torture the man with the intel you gather?” Trevia asked.
“Yep,” Denise confirmed through a belch.
We all laughed.
Denise rubbed her stomach and said, “Greer, your ass needs to stop laughing and come eat this pie I stole from my mother’s freezer. I think it’s one of the ones she cooked earlier this summer and was saving for the holidays. She’s gonna have a fit when she finds out it’s missing, and even with all the folks that come in and out of that house, she’s gonna know it was me.”
I walked back over to the sofa and reclaimed my seat between my friends. “You didn’t have to steal your mama’s pie, ’Nise, although I do appreciate it. Can’t nobody make a pie like Ms. Jenny. Patti ain’t got nothing on her!”
“Yeah, my mama’s mean as a snake, but she can cook her ass off. It’s the only good thing about living there. I’ll be glad when I can move out! I miss having my own place.”
“You making any progress towards moving?” I asked.
“Still trying to pay off some stuff and fix my credit so I can get a decent place. The problem is, once I think I’ve got a handle on things, another account or credit card in my damn name pops up from out of nowhere that I knew nothing about! If my credit was five years ago what it is now, I wouldn’t have gotten my job at the bank. Hell, I’m a loan officer who couldn’t get a loan at my own bank if my life depended on it. Kevin Buhari really screwed up my finances and my life. I will never get married again. Worst decision I ever made.”
I looked over at my friend who was the shortest of the three of us at five feet even. I always thought she was so pretty with her honey brown skin and round face. She was about a size twenty with curves in all the right places, what most men would term thick. “He had us all fooled, ‘Nise,” I said.
“Yeah, he seemed so nice. Who knew he’d wreck your credit, empty your bank accounts, and bail?” Trevia offered.
“I know, right? But I got his ass!” Denise said, hopping up from the couch and swinging an imaginary bat.
I doubled over in laughter. “Girl, I have never seen a car that jacked up! And when you went after him? I’ve never seen a man run that fast in my life!”
Trevia was laughing so hard, she slid from the couch to the floor. “Yeah, there me and Greer were trying to hold you back, and Usain Bolt couldn’t have caught him if he tried!”
Denise laughed and said, “Enough about Kevin’s sorry behind.
No, enough about sorry men, period! We got pie and ice cream to eat, and you got Netflix. I’m trying to watch Luke Cage’s fine ass.”
13
I stood at the door of my house and almost wondered if I should knock. Better yet, I thought I should just leave, but I needed to check on the place since I hadn’t stepped foot in it in more than two weeks. I also needed to pick up some of my things. So I took a deep breath and unlocked the door, stepped inside, and yelled, “Anyone here?”
I was relieved when I was met with complete silence. I picked up the stack of mail from the table in the entryway and rifled through it as I made my way up the stairs to my bedroom. Everything was undisturbed and since I was alone, I decided to take a quick shower in my own home and change before heading back out. After all, I’d had the shower custom built to my specifications, including the ceiling-mount rain head with multiple spray options. As soon as I stepped into the spacious stall and felt the warm water rain down on me, I remembered why I loved my place so much. I’d really missed it.
Twenty minutes later, I stepped out of the shower and toweled off, grabbed a robe and put it on just in case. Good thing I did, because there was a surprise waiting for me when I entered my bedroom.
“I didn’t know you were coming home today,” Sasha said from her seat on the side of my bed. I hated the way she made it sound like we were sharing a home or something.
I walked to the closet and pulled out a pair of jeans and a t-shirt. “I needed to pick up some things.”
“Oh...you wanna stay for dinner? I could hook something up real quick for you. I know you’re in a hurry to leave. You always are.”
Was she trying to sound pitiful, like this entire situation was my fault? “No, I’m good. I’ll grab something after I leave.” I dug through my drawer for some underwear.
“Fast food? You hate fast food. Don’t be like that, let me fix you something. It’s the least I could do.”
I squeezed my eyes shut for a second and sighed. “No...thank you.”
“Derek, are you ever going to stop being mad at me?”
My back was to her, but I could hear the quiver in her voice. “I’m not mad, I’m just…you know what? I’m doing the best I can under the circumstances.”
“You ran away from your own house! I hear you’ve been sleeping in your office like some homeless man! How is that doing your best? Why won’t you just stay here?”
I turned around to find that she had left the bed and was standing only a few inches away from me. “Because I don’t want to be around you.”
I could see the tears in her eyes. “You don’t have to be so cruel.”
“Cruel? I opened my home up to you when you had nowhere to go! That’s cruel?”
“No...you know what I mean.” She rubbed her hand over her bulging stomach, which seemed to have doubled in size since I saw her last.
“You’re the one who’s being cruel about that, not me.”
“No I’m not!”
“Then agree to the test. Let’s find out for sure whose baby that is.”
“It’s yours, Derek. I already told you that.”
“Sasha, I’m not some careless kid. I’m careful, very careful, always. I don’t believe that’s my baby.”
“Then why am I here? Why are you letting me stay here?”
“Because, one: you needed a place to stay. I wasn’t going to let you be homeless whether that’s my baby or not. Two, I did have sex with you so there’s a chance, a slim one, but a chance the baby is mine. But I want the test done. I’ll pay for it. I need to know for sure if that’s my baby.”
“I’m telling you it is! And I’m not getting some test that could hurt our child!”
“You know it doesn’t have to be invasive. You just like this, don’t you? You like being able to hold this over my head. We’re over, Sasha. OVER. We were over before you moved in here. We were over before you popped up pregnant. Hell, you could be pregnant with octuplets by me and we’d still be over.”
“Why?” she whined. “Why can’t we try to make it work again? We were so good together…”
“Because you cheated on me, or did you forget that?”
“No, I didn’t cheat! Not really. I mean, it’s not like I cared about him. It just happened.”
“Yeah, as if it makes it better that you busted it open for some random dude you didn’t care about. I want the test done. And you need to find you a place. Didn’t you have homeowner’s insurance?”
“Yes. I told you, I’m waiting for the insurance company to pay me.”
“You probably burned your own damn house down just to get my sympathy. Gonna get your ass arrested for arson.”
Her mouth dropped open. “I can’t believe you would say something like that! I lost everything in that fire! You think I would do that on purpose? You think I wanna be here at your mercy?”
“As a matter of fact, I do.”
She shook her head. “Something is going on. You’ve never been this mean to me before. Is there someone else?”
“Someone else? There would have to be an us for that term to apply, Sasha. Look, I need to get dressed, so I’m gonna need for you to leave my room.”
“It’s not like I’ve never seen it before.”
“Damn it, go!”
She dropped her eyes and her lip trembled as she scurried out of the room.
I locked the door behind her, sat on my bed, and wondered how I’d gotten myself into this mess.
14
Things were getting back to normal for me and when I wasn’t planning my next trip, I was working hard to secure some affiliate deals, sell ads, and form partnerships. My big project was trying to strike a deal with an airline company to partner with my blog.
My plan, as I shared it with several companies, was for them to provide me with discounted airfare in exchange for virtually unlimited exposure to my readers via my reviews of their services, prominent and possibly permanent ad placement, and inclusion in my recommended companies if applicable, not to mention the possibility of their company being featured in any articles I wrote for other publications, which I did from time to time. In my correspondence with the companies, I informed them that my reader demographic—young, successful African Americans—would readily support any company that showed interest in servicing them. I argued that this demographic was an adventurous group who traveled often both for work and for play. I made several points that should’ve had these companies jumping at the chance to at least place an ad on my blog, if not provide me with the discounted airfare.
I contacted the companies via email and snail mail and had been turned down by every last one of them so far. I was still waiting to hear from three more companies, including the company Lloyd worked for, but things didn’t look good as far as this little pet project of mine was going. It was frustrating that no one was even entertaining my idea. It wasn’t like I wanted something for nothing. What I wanted was to create a mutually beneficial arrangement, and I would’ve thought these companies would be glad to diversify their marketing efforts. What better way to do that than to partner with an African American travel blogger with a huge following? Evidently, young African American dollars meant nothing to them.
I hit send on another email to another company then reclined in my chair and rubbed my tired eyes. I’d been staring at the computer for hours. Standing up from my desk, I stretched my pajama-clad body and shuffled to the kitchen to grab a bite. I had a bad habit of plowing through work without eating. It was three in the afternoon and I hadn’t had a bite to eat all day.
I was almost done with my peanut butter and honey sandwich when my mother called. “Hello?” I answered, and gulped down some almond milk.
“Hey, sweetie! How are you? Things okay?” That was her way of asking without asking about how I was coping with my broken engagement.
“I’m fine. Working. How are you guys?”
“Good. Dad says hi.”
“Tell him I said hey. Where are you
two this month?” I asked, as I hopped up from my sofa and sat at my desk again. Since my father retired from his government job, my parents had been using their savings and his retirement to travel the world. They hadn’t set foot on US soil in three years and had no intentions of returning any time soon. They were living it up and they deserved it.
“Paris. You should come visit.”
“Hmm, maybe I will.” I tapped the mouse pad and saw that I’d received an email from Adventure Airlines. “Hey, Ma, let me call you back.”
“Okay, honey.”
I laid my phone on the desk and opened the email, fully expecting another rejection, and that was exactly what I received. What I didn’t expect was for the email and very nice letter to come from Lloyd Robinson.
*****
Denise sat on my living room floor staring in awe at my laptop. “When did Lloyd get to be VP of Marketing? I thought he worked in corporate compliance or something like that.”
“He did. Guess he has a new position,” I said.
“Bastard. I knew we should’ve rode up on his ass.”
I kicked my legs up on the sofa and rolled over on my side. “He’s not worth the trouble. Hey, where’s Trevia? She never misses our spa night.”
“When I went by her place to scoop her up, she said she’d be over later. I think she and Wesley were into it or something.”
“I don’t know why she stays with him.”
“Because he’s fine with a huge penis. Are you forgetting that we all met him at the same strip show? Trevia just happened to decide to take him home.”
“I know. I can’t believe it’s lasted three years.”
“It hasn’t, not really. They’ve just spent three years breaking up and making up. She knows he’s not going to act right. I think she likes the drama.”
Higher Love Page 4
