by H.H. Fowler
****
Coming to the home stretch of their five-mile jog, Dominic took a seat on the grass, several yards from his car. Sanchez flopped down next to him, out of breath.
“If my mind's not fooling me, I think that was Tayah back there,” Dominic said. “Ever since I took her home that night, she's been avoiding me.”
Sanchez cracked a small smile. “Leave it to you and you'll find a way to bring up her name in every conversation.”
“That's not true.”
“Dom, so what if she's avoiding you, man. That's her God-given right as a married woman.”
“I know that…”
“No, you don't…”
“What you mean I don't? I know how far to go. I know my boundaries.”
“Whatever, man. You sittin' here moping over a chick that's off limits. You need to stop wastin' time and move on with your life. Mount Moriah is loaded with rows and rows of Nubian beauties. Bruh, even my sister digs you, but what do you care? As long as Tayah is in the picture, no other woman stands a chance.”
Dominic really wasn't into hearing Sanchez preach to him about love and relationships, especially when Sanchez had problems keeping his dirty imagination in check. He stood up, brushing the dirt from his butt. “Let's drop this conversation right now.”
“You are so touchy when it comes to her,” Sanchez grinned. “You see, you're already upset. And for what? All I did was tell you the truth.”
“I don't wanna talk about it,” Dominic said, making an effort to head to his car. “You keep talking smack and you’ll have to find someone else to carry that mouth around.”
“Man, I tell you, women make us say and do some crazy stuff,” Sanchez said. “Even King Solomon, in all his wisdom, was fooled by them. I wonder how you would react if Tayah had actually felt the same way about you.”
Dominic kept walking ahead, annoyed by his friend’s need for jocularity. “She’s married. So I guess we’ll never know, will we?”
“Boy, stranger things have happened,” Sanchez’s mischievous smile turned into a toothy grin. “I’ve learned that the future is very unpredictable.”
Chapter Twenty-Nine
