Fixin’ Tyrone (3 page)

“He ain’t got no
girlfriends
!” the caller said. “He got a
wife
, and dat’s
me
. All them other bitches ain’t shit.”

Mia’s head spun. Her world was falling out from under her. She held onto the sink for support. “Maybe we’re talking about a different guy.” She hoped against hope.

“Naw, we talkin bout the same
sorry bastard
. Tall, dark and handsome, that’s why
you
want him. Work at the Post Office, got a black BMW, license plate F7R PU9. You got his phone, don’t you? Ain’t you been looking through it? Seen all them numbers in there? Everybody got a letter. He go from
A
to
Z,
girl. I don’t know how he remember all that, but he do.

“That’s a
playa’s
phone, baby.
Z
is his mama.
W
is work. A couple of them other letters
really is
his homeboys and stuff, but the rest of them is hos—
bitches just like you
! That’s why you can’t hardly catch him, ’cause you start callin’ them numbers and you don’t know who it is. What you think all them letters was for?”

Mia found it hard to catch a breath. Her eyes welled with tears and she couldn’t see straight anymore. Hot air fumed from her nostrils.

“I didn’t look through his phone,” she said finally. “I told you; I just answered it.”

“What am I? Am I still
D
? He change that shit up a lot. I been
D
,
E
,
F
, damned near all them letters.”

“Yeah, you’re still
D
.”

“Well, call
F
and
Q
, if you don’t believe me.
Q is
dat bitch Candy. She know about everybody and still be messing with him.”

Mia just listened and breathed. Somewhere down the line she pissed off God. That had to be it. Her mother wanted her to be a teacher, but she majored in business instead. She didn’t honor her mother and father, so God cursed her.

“You there?” D wanted to know.

“Yeah.”

“What, you
cryin’
?”

Mia sniffled and realized she was.

“You didn’t know
nothing
?” D asked.

“I just met him two months ago,” Mia admitted. “I thought he was too good to be true, but,
whoo
, I never thought it was this bad.”

D calmed a bit. “I feel you girl. He slick. He roll up on you at the grocery store? That’s where he meet most of ’em.”

“Yeah,” Mia sighed.

“Watch this,” the caller said, “‘
Hi. I don’t usually walk up to strangers
,’ you know, he be tryin’ to play all shy and shit, ‘
but I can tell by your purchases that we’ve got a lot in common
.’ He said somethin’ like that and then started talking ’bout the shit you had in yo basket? Right?”

Damn. That was almost verbatim.

“Yeah,” Mia admitted.

“He tell you he work nights sometimes?”

“This is
awful
.”

“Yeah, he hit you with the
standard
. He don’t
never
work no nights. He used to try to tell me that shit, but I go up there lookin’ for his ass. I was finna go lookin’ fo’ him tonight since he don’t wanna answer his phone, but I ain’t got nobody to watch the baby.”

Mia just shook her head.

“Are you at the house or the apartment?” D wanted to know.

“He has a house
and
an apartment?”

“Yeah, he slick, girl.”

“He doesn’t live with you?” Mia asked. A slight glimmer of hope shone for a moment. Maybe D was just a disgruntled ex.

“Yeah he stay with me, sometimes. We separated, but we got
fo’
kids. He ain’t tryin to get put on no child support.”

Mia coughed. “F-
four
kids?”

“Oh yeah, he like to say he ain’t got no kids, too. He good, girl. Go look in the living room. He got three pictures in there; one got all three of them. Two of ’em got just the oldest boys. He ain’t got no pictures of the baby yet, ’cause she new . . .”

“He said those were his nieces and nephews.”

“Like I say, he good, Meesha.”

Mia had been caught off-guard by a few players, but nothing like this. All of the information D had given her was impossibly horrific, and begged one question.

“Why do
you
still wanna be with him?”

But that was obvious. “What you talking bout? He my
husband,
” D said, then asked, “You said y’all at the
house
, right?”

“Yes. Why?” Mia asked.

“I’m on my way over there,” D said.

Whoa, stop the train
. “Why do you want to come over
here
?” Mia squealed.

“What you mean,
why
? I told you, he my
husband
.” She pronounced
husband
as if it had a couple of extra u’s and no s.
Huuubbin.

“I know, but—”

“What you finna do when you get off the phone? Go in there and tell him all this shit? He ain’t gon’ do nothing but deny it. He told Candy I was just some bitch he broke up with who want him back.”

Mia still hadn’t ruled that possibility out, but she wasn’t going to be another Candy. Even if Eric
wasn’t
still married to this woman, he was still a player, and he had more drama than she wanted in her life.

“Why do you want to come over here
now
?” Mia asked again.

“I’ma confront him. He can’t lie if we both standin’ right there.”

Mia shook her head. “I don’t think that’s a good idea. I don’t wanna be around that. You’re gonna be all loud and screaming.” Mia was black herself, and she didn’t like to label people, especially derogatively, but D was coming off a little
ghetto
. She sounded like the kind of girl who might be involved in one of those “Hood Fights” videos on YouTube. That thought made Mia fear for her own safety.

“I’m not gon’ get loud!” D said loudly.

“What about your baby?”

“She ’sleep. I’ll bring her with me.”

“Look, if you want to fight me, or whatever, I don’t want your man. I’m just gonna leave.”

“Where he at?”

“He’s in there sleep.”

“Good,” D said. “He sleep hard. It’s like four-thirty now. I can make it there by five. I’m already dressed.”

Already dressed?
The hair stood on Mia’s arms.

“No, naw. I’m just—I’m just going to leave. I don’t want any trouble.”

“What you think gon’ happen?” D asked. “You want this nigga to keep gettin’ away with this? See, it’s bitches, scuse me, I don’t mean to call you no bitch. I’m just upset.” D took a moment to compose herself. “
Girl
, it’s women like
us
that gotta stick together. You know what I’m saying? Niggas like Eric, they keep doin’ this shit ’cause we keep letting’ them. He don’t care if you leave. He hit it already, right?”

Mia didn’t like admitting to adultery. “Well, I mean, we . . .”

“Yeah, it’s cool, girl. I know. See, he already done got what he wanted. He don’t want
you
. He don’t wanna be with
you
. He just wanted what he got. You can leave— that ain’t shit to him. He got mo’ hos. What we need to do is
confront
his ass. He been lyin’ to me for a long time, and I want to look him right in the eye while both us standin’ there and see what he got to say then. He
need
to be caught. Ain’t you tired of triflin’ niggas doin’ this shit to you?”

And, that was the kicker. Mia
was
tired as hell of
trifling-ass
niggas doing this kind of shit to her. Eric needed to be taught a lesson, but the lady on the other end of the phone was seriously nutty.

D said she was on her way and Mia agreed to wait for her. Before they got off the phone, Mia had one last question: “Um, D? That’s not your name, right?
D
?”

“Naw, girl,” the woman said. “My name
Shareefa
.”

Shareefa? Wow.
No way was Mia going to stick around to see what Shareefa looked like. Oh, hells no.

* * *

Mia checked the time on Eric’s phone. It was a quarter after four. She would be out of there in no more than five minutes.

He shoulda just turned it off
, she thought.
This never would have happened
. But at the same time Mia was glad it was all out in the open. This would be devastating if she didn’t find out for another month or two.

To quash any doubts, Mia took a few seconds to look through the phone as Shareefa suggested. And either his
wife
was right, or Eric was a secret agent.

And Eric wasn’t no secret agent
.

There were no names in the contact list; only letters, from A to Z. There were more than fifty contacts, so there were also an AA, BB, and so on. Mia didn’t even consider dialing any of the numbers. She still couldn’t believe any of this, but she required no more confirmation.

She sat on the toilet for another minute, still more upset than angry. She wondered if there should be any repercussions. Eric’s wife, or whatever she was, was on her way, but Mia thought maybe she should pay him back, too. They only dated a short while, but she really liked him. It was much too soon to believe he might be
the one
, but when you’re single with two kids, you’re always looking for
the one
. Mia didn’t need a man financially, but she didn’t need her feelings kicked around, either.

She knew her girlfriends would tell her men are dogs and this type of thing is to be expected, but Mia wasn’t a man-basher like the rest of her clique. She knew she would one day meet one who wasn’t full of shit. It would have been nice if Eric was that one, but he really didn’t need to be. He just needed to be honest. He needed to stop hurting women.

She dropped the phone between her legs and it slid into the toilet water with no splash. That felt good, but Mia knew she wouldn’t feel significantly better until she got home, with her family.

She crept back into the bedroom and dressed in darkness, watching him sleep. Eric snored lightly, but it wasn’t offensive. It wasn’t something she couldn’t get used to if they lived together.

The hell? Damn, girl
. Mia gritted her teeth and forced the thoughts from her mind. It was over. She knew it was, but there was a part of her that still wanted him; wanted to know if this
Shareefa
lady really was Eric’s wife, and if so, maybe he could explain how they were divorced but she won’t let it go.

But the kids? The phone?

Mia slipped into her heels and crept quietly from the room. Before leaving, she checked the pictures hanging in the living room above the mantle. The largest one was of three beautiful children. A girl and two boys smiled back at her. She knew she probably shouldn’t risk turning on a light, but her curiosity got the best of her.

With the lamps shining brightly, Mia wondered how she missed the resemblance before. It was possible for an uncle to have som
e
similarities, but the oldest boy was Eric’s spitting image. Even the girl’s eyes and nose were like transparencies of her father’s.

All doubt gone, the anger finally rose in Mia. She wanted to throw the picture frame into the glass coffee table. She wanted to take it to the bedroom and smash Eric’s face with it. At least she could get a knife from the kitchen and slash his tires on the way out, but there was no need for that. Mia was thirty-two years old. She wore slacks and skirt suits to work.

That pretty Beamer sitting on flats was a delicious image, but Mia knew she wouldn’t do it. She had two kids. She was a professional woman, and professional women did not slash tires when they were scorned.

Mia held her head high and left, like a lady. She even closed his front door behind herself on the way out. Taking the high road never felt so bad, but she had only to think about her children to know she was doing the right thing. Anything she couldn’t do in front of them was probably not a good idea.

The high road came to an abrupt end when Mia tripped on one of the many bricks lining Eric’s driveway.