by Lolah Lace
“My disgusting wife left her family and moved in with her much younger boyfriend. She didn’t want joint custody of the kids. After meeting her young prick of a boyfriend she wasn’t into being a full- time mother. She sees the kids about once a month for a few hours. That’s if she fits them into her busy whore schedule.”
Gregg spit out all those sentences with a high level of disdain and utter disgust. This was a terrible marriage and a horrible divorce.
“Is your ex-wife your kid’s biological mother?” I had to ask. He must be lying. Why would any mother abandon their kids?
“Yes, she gave birth to them and just deserted them.”
I was super-confused. There has to be more to this, and me being me, I had to get to the bottom of it.
“Does she live in this state?”
Gregg sighed. “The cheating slut lives ten minutes away from me.”
“Oh.” I wasn’t expecting him to say that.
“She’s just a selfish bitch. Her inability to be a mom makes it hard for me to go out on dates. I have to be at home with my kids. Most single women don’t want to share my time and attention with my kids.”
“ So she just cheated on you and left you and the kids?” That was it in a nutshell.
“Basically.” He shrugged.
There had to be more to the story than that. Gregg didn’t look like a wife-beater. No woman I knew would leave her kids with a violent man. He had to be a good father.
“I’m sorry.” I couldn’t think of anything else to say. I was stumped.
“Well, when we were married, she had gained a lot of weight when she was pregnant with our daughter. She gained even more weight after she had our son. I didn’t care about her weight. We grew up together. We lived on the same street when we were kids. We dated in high school. We got married young and had kids. She got really depressed because she gained all the weight. She wanted gastric bypass surgery, a tummy tuck, liposuction, breast augmentation, and a rhinoplasty. What was I supposed to do? She was my wife. She was really depressed so I worked a lot, got a second job, and saved up so she could get all the surgeries she wanted to make her feel better about herself.”
I was speechless after that. Basically he never thought about buying her a gym membership before he went and spent all that damn money? This man may look good but he wasn’t the sharpest tool in the shed.
I let him finish his little story.
“She got her body back together. She got all of her confidence up and then started sleeping with some young asshole at her office. When I found out about her affair she didn’t even want to work on our marriage. She wanted a divorce. She wanted that young boy.”
“ Did you ever think that maybe she was doing all this plastic surgery to attract another man?” It was a thought that just popped into my head.
“ No, not at the time.”
Gregg married young. His ex-wife probably married him to get out of her mama’s house. This guy was clueless. There was no way it all went down this way. He was slow. There had to be some signs that this marriage was headed for Splitsville USA. I’m sure those signs were before all the plastic surgeries.
This man’s issues weren’t regular baggage. This was the overhead bins and the whole damn cargo area baggage. This was too much damn information. If she left a man this fine that takes care of his kids it’s got to be more to this horrible story. I wasn’t a shrink. I couldn’t figure out this hot mess foolishness. I didn’t even want to.
I looked out the window as he rambled on and on about his thot of an ex-wife. My mind was blown. I needed to check out. I shut my brain off and drifted into a daydream.
I imagined I was in a quaint room with walled bookcases. I was wearing glasses, holding a clipboard, and dressed like a medical professional. I had a on a hideous sweater. My hair was pulled back and I looked like a legit intellectual. The plaques on the wall read that I was a psychiatrist.
Gregg was lying on his back on a quilted couch. I sat in a huge comfortable leather chair beside him. I had a pen in my hand and started scribbling something down on the paper I secured to the clipboard.
“Tell me. Have you let go of your hostilities toward your ex-wife?”
“Are you talking about that cum sucking slut, that plastic Barbie whore, that cheating cunt?”
“Ah, your babies mama?” I pushed my glasses up my nose.
“Yes Doctor, I think I let go of all my hostilities. You see, I hate that skinny-fat bitch but I no longer want to kill her with my bare hands. Now, I would be happy if her double D’s, that I paid for, leaked toxic matter into her chest cavity, dripped deadly acid into her right ventricle, clogged her superior vena cava, corroded her aorta and made her heart stop.”
I shook my head up and down. “That is progress. You used to want to kill her with a weapon, your bare hands, or poison. And now you’re waiting for an act of God.”
“Yes exactly. I’m in a much better place now Dr. Lockheart. I knew therapy would work.”
“ Yes, but it’s moving a little slower then I thought. So I’m going to have to prescribe a few pills for you.”
I looked down at the clipboard and there was a photo. It was the cartoon body of the Operation kid’s game that had been marked for plastic surgery. I giggled inside. It fit with this crazy situation. I placed my clipboard on the end table beside my chair.
I stood and grabbed a black garbage bag off the floor beside me. I opened the bag, looked inside, and poured thirty or more prescription pill bottles on Gregg’s face and body. He needed more meds to handle his anger issues.
“She’s gone. Get over it!” I yelled into his face.
With a misplaced smirk I snapped back into the present and out of my fantasy Funland. I was sitting across from this daddy daycare loser. He’s lost his wife and lost his freedom. I wasn’t even remotely interested in proceeding forward.
“I’m not bitter.” He said as I turned from looking out the window.
“You shouldn’t be. You only have eleven years left before your youngest kid goes to college.” I did the math. “Then you can go on as many dates as you like.”
“Well that’s true.”
“Do you ever want to get married again?” I asked, although I didn’t really care.
“No way. I don’t see how that’s possible.”
I chuckled. “ So that means you don’t want any more kids?”
“No, I had a vasectomy.”
“Seriously?”
He hunched his shoulders. “I didn’t know I was going to be divorced and back on the market.”
“ Ya’ know, technically you’re not really on the market because you don’t want to be married or have kids.” He’s more like on the clearance rack. His damaged ass is on the shelf with the dented cans and soon to be expired meat.
“I never really thought about it that way.”
“ It’s something to think about.” I smarted. “Most women that are younger than you, without kids, probably want to marry and have kids.”
“Ha, yeah I guess that’s true.”
“Seems like you’re just trying to hook up.”
“No, no, I really want a relationship. I want a life partner.”
He must be kidding. How! He can’t even come out to play! He can’t even go out on dates. I zoned out and eventually he figured out I wasn’t interested. What more was there to say? I wanted to but I didn’t run away. I waited for him to end the date and go on about his business. The third time wasn’t a charm and this was getting exhausting.
I was just happy when I was back in my car and driving away from Tasty Dog. I made a detour before heading home. After a few hours I walked into my apartment and flopped down on the couch beside Tamika.
“Girl, where have you been? I’ve been texting you.”
“ After my meet and greet I went over to my mother’s house and fell asleep.”
“You went home to mommy. That’s cute. Was the date that bad?”
“Yes. He was good-lo
oking and that was all. Literally all he had to offer.”
“ What was this one’s name?”
“ Gregg with three G’s. The G’s stood for get- gone- goofy.”
“Wait. Maybe you’re being too critical. You know you are a little uppity.”
“ Check it. He had a trifling ex-wife that gave him full custody of the kids because she wanted a babysitter. This is all so she could kick it in her brand new body. This fool bought his wife all these surgeries only for her to leave him for some young dude. So basically this trick is cock blocking from afar. There’s more but the story is too damn extra to repeat.”
“ Don’t let this get you down.”
“I can’t even with this mess. How come you’re not out with your boyfriend? Isn’t this date night?”
“He’s at an anime convention with his crew. I can hook you up with one of his boys. If you want a boyfriend that plays videos all day and dresses like Naruto Uzumaki on occasion, I got you.” She joked.
“I don’t know what that is. All my boyfriends are full-blown adults.”
“Is that something to be proud of?”
I rolled my eyes. “Hey, I have a confession.”
“Confess! Confess! Confess!” Tamika was mimicking that religious zealot, the Septa from Game of Thrones that was torturing Cersai Lannister. I wasn’t amused.
“Sometimes, I miss my ex-boyfriend.”
Tamika blew air from her mouth. “Sometimes shit doesn’t flush all the way down the toilet and your point is what?”
“ Okay well that was a bit extreme but thank you for visually pushing him out of my entire brain.”
“You’re welcome. Anytime.”
“Why do you hate him so much?”
“He’s a dirtbag that dumped you on a text message. I’m supposed to hate his ass.”
“Thanks for reminding me I was dumped by text message.” How could I forget?
“No more talk about men tonight. Let’s burn candles, dress in all black, eat Twizzlers, drink red wine, sit on the floor, and watch The Craft.”
“Really?”
“Yes, really.”
“ Now I need to learn to put spells on these men just to get one?” I asked.
“ It worked in the damn movie.”
“How pathetic.”
“Blessed be. Let’s just chill.”
“Okay, fine whatever.”
Tamika leaped off the couch. “Light as a feather. Stiff as a board.” She chanted. I joined in with her mantra. “Light as a feather. Stiff as a board. Light as a feather. Stiff as a board. Light as a feather. Stiff as a—”
Our fictional witch chant was interrupted by the sound of a ringing iPhone. It wasn’t me. Tamika quickly snatched her cell up off the arm of the couch.
“Hey, hold on.” She said into her cell phone.
“Go on and get out of here. I don’t want to hear you talking nasty to your little boyfriend.”
Tamika rolled her eyes at me and scurried out of the living room. I watched her leave the room.
TAMIKA
I had to get out of there. I hurried out of the living room. I dashed into the kitchen because I needed privacy. I placed the phone to my ear. I had to keep my voice down. I didn’t want Latanya to hear what was going to be a very brief conversation.
“Hello...Why are you calling me?... She blocked you... You disgust me... No, you need to leave her alone... I swear you better stop trying to contact her... I will tell her everything... Don’t make me tell her what you did... Nick, don’t ever call her or me again.
I ended the call and sighed heavily. This bastard had a lot of nerve calling me. Woo lord, he needs his ass beat.
Electric Blue
LATANYA
The next morning I was jarred out of my sleep with a loud— “BANG! BANG! BANG!”
My heart was beating fast as I tried to figure out what was going on. I heard the banging again. I quickly realized it was the sound of loud knocking on the apartment’s front door.
I jumped out of bed and stumbled over a pair of my shoes. Thank God I didn’t fall as I rushed out of my bedroom. My feet carried me toward the front door while I wiped the sleep from my eyes.
I unlocked and opened the door with no hesitation. Tamika was standing at the door with a goofy grin plastered on her face.
“I forgot my key.” She muttered as she rushed inside, almost knocking me over.
I was so tired of this, her forgetfulness. “You woke me up!” I was irritated. I needed my rest. I could’ve been dreaming about Liam Hemsworth or something.
“Why you still sleep?”
“Don’t worry about it.” I barked. “Just remember your key next time.”
“And if I don’t.”
“I will leave you right out there in the hallway.”
“ Ugh. Why you are so grouchy, Smurf?”
“ Why you so forgetful, Smurf?”
“For your information there is a forgetful Smurf but you wouldn’t know that because you don’t watch cartoons.”
“Excuse me for being a grown-ass woman.”
“ We all grown. You’re not special. Why are you acting up? It’s a beautiful day outside. Get out. Do something with your life. You must be hungry. You look hungry. I’ll make you breakfast. Come to the kitchen in thirty minutes.”
Tamika’s energy level freaked me out. She never got tired. I walked back to my bedroom to sulk. I sat down on the edge of my bed. I was ready to be wide awake.
I could be extra grumpy or grouchy if I wanted to be. What was she even talking about? She was right about one thing though. I was freaking famished. I’m so hungry I could eat a table with a side of kitchen chairs. I hoped that didn’t mean anything. It could mean something. No way. I couldn’t be that. There was only one way to find out. I needed to buy a home pregnancy test.
I stood and left my bedroom. I walked down the hallway toward the bathroom. I took a peek in the kitchen and saw Tamika standing over the stove. I stepped inside the bathroom and locked the door behind me.
Looking in the mirror, I didn’t notice anything different about me. I pulled my sleep shirt up from the bottom hem, exposing my stomach. I examined my semi-flat belly thoroughly. I turned from the front to the side. Nothing. I rubbed my tummy, looking for a bulge that just wasn’t there. I pushed my lips out as I inspected my torso. Nothing. I see nothing.
I turned around and looked down at the floor. I stepped my bare feet on the digital weight scale. I was three pounds less than my normal weight. I wasn’t gaining weight at all. So, like I thought, I’m not. I couldn’t be. I’m not pregnant. Coming on my period would eliminate all doubt. Where was Aunt Flo when you needed her?
I removed my pajama shirt by pulling it over my head. I stepped out of my pajama shorts. The shower curtain screeched when I slide it open. I bent down into the bathtub to turn the waterspout on. I switched the stream of water from the bathtub to the shower. I tiptoed into the shower, closing the shower curtain closed with another screech.
Relaxation filled me as soon as the warm water washed over my body. I closed my eyes and let that feeling soothe me in my time of uncertainty. I reached out of the shower and grabbed the shower cap that was on the hook a few inches away. I didn’t want to get my hair wet, so I placed the cap on my head.
I used body wash to lather my body. At that moment I wanted to think of nothing but enjoying this hot shower. With my eyes closed, I lingered off into what had been my customary means of solace, my daydreams.
I found myself inside my apartment in my bathroom. The bathroom was cloudy with steam from the shower. I heard a faint chant that I can’t seem to understand. It was a discernible but unrecognizable mumble. I instinctively squinted, hoping to hear the words better.
“Tami, is that you?” I call out beyond the shower curtain. When I don’t receive a response I step from under the shower spout. I move my ear closer to the shower curtain. That’s when the chant becomes clear and concise.
“They’re all g
oing to laugh at you! They’re all going to laugh at you!”
Panic hit me hard as the chorus of voices taunted me over and over with the same mocking phrase. It was apparent this daydream was more like a waking nightmare.
I grabbed the shower curtain and quickly pulled it back. As I looked out, I was repeatedly struck with brightly wrapped tampons and colorfully wrapped sanitary napkins. Phantom hands were pitching these items at me.
I ducked the flying hygiene products trying to avoid being hit. There were too many to dodge, and I moved back until my body hit the shower wall. The chanting never stopped. I soon realized I was in this spooky reenactment of the high school shower scene from the Stephen King movie Carrie. My wet body slid done the shower wall until I landed on the floor of the bathtub. I shut my eyes, hoping to escape from this nightmare.
I opened my eyes, and I was out of this fantasy and back under the comfort of the hot shower. I looked down and around at the bathtub floor to make sure my vision wasn’t reality. I stepped out of my shower at the same time my stomach started growling. I dried off and got went back to my bedroom. I got dressed in a fresh t-shirt and sweatpants.
I walked down the hall and went into the entry of the kitchen. Clean skin made me feel a little better. Tamika was slaving away over the stove.
“Don’t take up for him. If he’s that confused, he needs to kick rocks.” She randomly said.
“Who’s confused?” I blurted.
Tamika turned to the sound of my voice.
“Nobody.” She said to me.
I didn’t realize she was on her cell phone. I could see the earbuds in her ears.
“Oh, sorry,” I said. I thought she was talking to me.
“Hey, I will call you back later... Bye.” Tamika quickly ended her call by tapping the screen on her cell phone on the counter by the stove. She slipped her cell phone in her back pocket.
“Oh, you took a shower.”
“Yeah.”
“Food’s not ready yet. I’m making pancakes.” Tamika flipped a pancake over with a spatula. “Eggs and bacon.”
