Complementary Colors (20 page)

“I think you’re about to become talk of the town.”

Roy’s Adam’s apple bobbed when he swallowed.

“You regret telling her?”

“Never.”

Right there in front of the world, he kissed me on the forehead.

“Oh my God.” A girl with wild curly hair and green eyes appeared from behind a door in the kitchen. She propped her elbows on the counter in front of us. “Momma wasn’t lying. You gotta boyfriend.” She had her mother’s smile.

“This is Shara,” Roy said.

She waved at me. “Is your name really Paris?”

“Yes.”

Shara clicked her tongue and shook her head. Curls stuck to her cheeks, and she pushed them back. “You white people come up with some funny names. Countries, states, and cars. There’s this girl in my homeroom, her name is Lexus. Can you believe that? If I was gonna have to be named after a car, it would at least be a cool one.”

I propped my chin on my fist. “And what do you consider a cool car name?”

“Lamborghini, or Bugatti, or maybe Aston Martin. That would be a good name for a boy.”

“Aston Martin does have a nice ring to it. Maybe I should consider changing my name.” I nudged Roy with my elbow. “What do you think?”

“Your name’s fine the way it is.”

I shrugged. “You heard him. No name change.”

“Well, you ain’t married to him yet. Means you can do whatever you want. So if you want to change your name, change it. Momma says no man should own a woman. I guess that would go for boys too.” She eyed Roy. “You should’ve told Becky you liked boys. She’s gonna be heartbroken.” Roy stared at the fork in front of him. “Momma and her been looking at wedding dresses.”

I raised my eyebrows at Roy. “Wedding dresses? Sounds serious.”

“I only met her once,” he said.

“Must have made quite an impression.”

“He did.” Shara bounced on her toes. “Becky done nothing but talk about Roy since she met him. Roy this, Roy that. She talk about you so much I almost get tired of hearing your name.”

I folded my arms and fought the smile trying to crawl across my face. “Well, maybe we need to rethink this dating thing we have going on.”

For a second, Roy paled.

“Naw,” Shara said. “When you like boys, you like boys. Momma said when that happens, they’d just made that way.” She leaned closer, and so did I. “But I know this girl, she likes girls and boys. She really do.”

“It happens,” I said.

“You think Roy might like both?”

I flicked him a look.

Shara nodded. “If he do, then he could marry Betty and you. Then he could have both.”

Roy made a strangled sound.

“No,” I said. “I’m pretty sure Roy only likes boys.”

She stood back up. “Oh well. Guess that means you’re gonna have to adopt, seeing you can’t have no babies.”

“Shara.” Louise popped her head out from behind the door in the back. “Get your butt in here right now.”

She rolled her eyes. “I gotta go. Momma will want me to do inventory now that she’s all on the phone. See ya.” She leaned forward again but stopped. “Since you like boys, do that mean I can’t kiss you on the cheek no more?”

Roy turned his head. She gave him a peck and bounced away.

“That was cute,” I said. “How old is she? Fourteen?”

“Twelve.”

“Isn’t she tall for twelve?”

“All of Louise’s kids are tall like their father.” He nodded at the man hovering over the stove, cutting up hot dogs in buns and drowning them in a myriad of toppings. The teenager helping him looked like a younger version.

“How many does she have?”

“Eight.”

“Wow. I hope you’re not expecting us to have that many.”

Roy opened his mouth. Then shut it. “Not funny.”

I poked his stomach. “I bet you’d make a terrific mommy.”

“No, I—”

“Butterball stomach.”

“I’m not—”

“Your feet would swell, and I’d rub them.”

“Paris—”

“You’d get to eat all the ice cream you want.”

“Don’t—”

“We could go to Lamaze classes together, and afterward, you could go out with all the other mommies and talk about baby shoes and diapers.”

He scrubbed his face. “Why are we even talking about this? It’s not even possible.”

“With the wonders of modern medicine? Never say never.”

An older version of Shara stopped by. “Momma said she forgot to get your drinks.”

“Coffee and water,” Roy said.

I nodded at the wine bottle. “Just a glass. I brought my own.”

“It’s still a quarter, but the ice is free.”

“A quarter is fine and hold the ice.”

She cocked her mouth to the side and gave Roy a look. “Why you have’da get some white boy who’s gonna blow away in the wind?” The girl tromped away.

“Yeah,” I said. “What the hell were you thinking?”

“You’re not that skinny.”

“Then why are you always trying to feed me?”

“You’re not skinny enough to blow away.”

“What about the white boy part?”

“Nothing I can do about that.”

I laughed. “Maybe I should get a tan.”

“You’d burn to a crisp.”

The girl delivered our drinks, and her father followed up with two mutilated hot dogs in buns drowning under a tower of chili, cheese, peppers, and other substances I couldn’t identify, contained in two metal boat-shaped trays. She left, but he didn’t.

“Roy, I hope you’re proud of yourself.” He took the towel off his shoulder and wiped his hands. “You got Louise stirred up so bad I’ll never get her off the phone tonight.”

“That wasn’t my intention, Jonathan. I’m sorry.”

“So when you boys gonna tie the knot?”

Roy almost dropped his coffee cup.

“Don’t look at me that way. With the way Louise is talking, you two done bought a house, a dog, and got three kids.”

“And you told me you couldn’t have children,” I said.

Roy glared at me. To Jonathan, he said, “We haven’t been together that long.”

“Well, you better keep this one.” He nodded at me. “‘Cause she’s probably back there ordering your cake and booking you a place at the church.” He slapped Roy on the shoulder. “Enjoy.”

“Have we set a date yet?” I said.

Roy rubbed his forehead while poking his food with a fork. “Sorry about that. Louise can get a little exuberant.”

“I’ll say. You married her daughter and divorced her within a minute, proposed to me, got pregnant, and now we have a dog.” I poured some wine into the empty glass. “That’s a lot to happen in one night. Even for me. I’m kind of speechless, come to think of it.” I held up the bottle. “Want some?”

“No, thanks.”

“Might make you feel better.”

“It’s not…I don’t…” He made a frustrated sound.

“So when you propose, will it be on your knees and with a ring?” I held up my hands and wiggled my fingers. “I’m partial to platinum. Plain. Nothing gaudy.”

There was something close to sadness in his eyes. “Unfortunately, the best I could ever do is something from the pawn shop.”

I pulled over my boat. “That’s pretty clever of him to use sundae dishes for the hot dogs.” A glob of chili dripped over the side. “I’m having flashbacks of my last chili experience. Strangely enough, I’m not turned off by the similarities, and another evening with heartburn and indigestion has acquired some appeal.” I took a bite. Sweet and spicy, tipped with reds and yellows, spread over my tongue. “Damn that’s good.”

He quit staring at me and ate a few bites of his food. The knots in my back loosened.

“So what’s his secret?” I said.

“No clue.”

“Do hotdogs taste different cut up?”

“You’ve never had them before?”

“Maybe when I was little, but I don’t think so, because I’d remember this.” Another bite made me moan. “I’m going to come here every day and eat these. Maybe twice a day.” A slice of yellow pepper slid off the mound of spreading chili. I caught it on my fork.

Roy laughed. “I’m glad you like it.”

“Like it? I think my tongue is having orgasms.” I held up my glass. “You should really try some of the wine. The hotdog makes it taste like ambrosia.” I missed my mouth, and a glob of chili landed on my shirt. “I think it’s trying to escape.”

Roy handed me a couple of napkins.

“Are you kidding? I’m not going to waste a drop of this.” I scraped it off with my finger and licked it clean. “Who needs veal and lamb when you have…what do they call this?”

“A slaughtered hotdog.”

“Glad it tastes better than it sounds.”

He drank his coffee, and I poured myself a second glass of wine.

Between the last few bites of his dinner, Roy said, “Thank you.”

“Hey, this was your idea, not mine.” I moved the remaining lumps of bread and chili around in my dish. I was too full to eat anymore but not quite ready to surrender.

“I mean for what you did. At the restaurant.”

Surely I could get one more bite down. I scooped it up on my fork, and it dripped through the prongs.

“I’m just sorry you had to do it.”

I put down my fork. “I’m sorry I didn’t stop to think about what a place like that costs. I should have paid for it to begin with.”

“I’m the one who wanted to take you to dinner.”

“Doesn’t matter.”

“I would have never let you.”

“I know.” I pushed my bowl away. “That’s why I didn’t suggest it.”

“I appreciate that. At least this way, I get to save face.”

“You were never at risk of losing it to begin with.” I guzzled the second glass of wine just to fill the silence. The room tipped, and I almost sat my glass down in the empty boat. Roy took the glass before I dropped it. “Sorry, that hit me harder than I expected.”

“Maybe it’s because you drank the entire bottle.”

“I did not.” My temples throbbed. “You had a glass.”

“But I didn’t drink it. You did.”

“I usually hold my wine a lot better than this.” I touched my nose. “At least it’s not cold anymore.”

“Are you ready to go?”

“Sure.”

“Wait here, and I’ll pay the bill.”

“I’ll leave a tip.”

“No, I’ll let them keep the change. This is my treat, remember?” When he walked away, I stuck a twenty under his coffee cup.

While Roy exchanged goodbyes, I pulled on my coat and made my way to the door.

“Hey, wait up.”

I teetered to the right, and Roy caught me.

“You running off?”

“No, I just…I thought maybe the cold would clear my head.”

“Clearing your head is one thing, freezing to death is something else.” Roy buttoned my coat and tightened my scarf. “Where are your gloves?” He patted down my pockets. “Here, put them on.”

I did. “Happy?”

“Very.”

We stepped out into a new world silenced by a blanket of white. The streets had cooled enough for the snow to gather in the gutters. More covered the cars parked at the curb. There was hardly anyone left on the street, driving or walking.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen it snow like this before.” I pulled my scarf higher to protect my ears.

“Do you want me to hail a cab?”

“I’d rather walk.”

“You might slip and fall.”

“Then you’ll have to catch me.”

“And who’s going to catch me?”

“The sidewalk is tougher than it looks.”

Roy fell into step beside me.

“Besides,” I said. “If you hail a cab, then I’ll get home quicker.”

“And that’s a bad thing?”

“Anything meaning less time with you is a very bad thing.” I looped my arm in his, partly because I wanted him closer and partly because my knees were rubbery.

We’d gone two blocks when Roy said, “I know I can’t afford to take you to fancy places or buy you nice things.”

“Roy, I—”

“Let me finish.”

We stopped under the awning of a clothing store. The lights in the windows turned the mannequins into faceless ghouls.

Roy dusted some of the snow from my bangs and tucked them behind my ear. “I don’t have money, but you do, so you can buy yourself everything I can’t.” He put his finger over my lips, stopping another reply. “But there are some things money can’t get you. Things I know you’ve never had.” His touch followed the curve of my mouth, sending a shiver through me. “That’s what I have to offer you, if you’ll give me the chance."

A boy’s laugh echoed off the building and was followed by the crunch of dead leaves.

At the corner, the red light turned green, and a man on a bicycle made an illegal left turn.

“Paris?”

The lost wail of a car siren started and stopped. There was music playing, but I couldn’t tell if it was coming from one of the bars a few blocks down or a car I couldn’t see.

There was nothing but me, the snow, and the darkness. Sweat cut a line down my back.

Roy made me look at him. “What’s wrong?”

I swallowed and tasted dirt.

Roy shook me. “Paris, talk to me. What’s wrong?”

I took a step back. Mud caked my shoes and ankles, bits of forest clung to the leg of my pants.

“Hurry up, Paris.” Julia stood by the tree. Her dress was stained, and the white stockings she wore had runs all the way to her knees. At some point, she lost her shoes.

She’d blame me later.

“I’m tired.” The muscles in my arms refused to pick up the shovel, and the bottom of my foot hurt from trying to push it into the ground.

“Like I care.” She pushed her hair back, leaving a streak of dirt on her cheek. Her melting mascara gave her raccoon eyes.

“The ground’s too hard.”

“Dig, Paris.”

“There are too many roots.”

“Fine. Fine. We’ll put it somewhere else.”

“Please, Julia. I don’t feel good.” I tried to show her the blisters on my hands, but she turned away.

“Quit your whining and help me pick it up.”

Snow surrounded me, and Roy searched my face. “What did you take?”

Everything felt so far away, but it was getting closer by the second.

“Answer me.”

“No…no. I didn’t take anything.”

“Don’t lie.”

“I’m not.”

“Then why are you talking about the ground being too hard?”

What else had I said? I gasped for air.

Roy dragged me to the store window and sat me on the ledge. He scanned the street.