Friends and Lovers (39 page)

Right about now my mouth was open like I had lockjaw. A fresh wave of heated anger was on the way. My chest burned, rose and fell like a lung was ready to pop. If he’d gone through my bills, that probably wasn’t the only thing he’d rummaged through.

I said, “Thought you pushed redial?”

He shrugged. “I made that up. Wanted to see what you were going to say.”

“So you thought this was some sort of a game?”

“This isn’t a game.”

It all came back. Every time I thought I heard him driving by my bedroom window. Then of the nights I’d get late-night hang-ups. But I wasn’t gonna let my resentment slow me down. This buffet was already on the table. It was time to feast before the food got cold.

I said, “Yeah, I called. But we never talked.”

Richard’s voice cracked. “Why didn’t you?”

“I was afraid.”

Richard opened his arms and stepped toward me. “Shelby.”

I snapped my hand up with my arm extended. The place was serene, but I felt like thunder and lightning. He kept his distance. Richard slid his hands over his butt, then looked around as if he was trying to see if anybody else was outside. My arm stayed out until he took a step back and softened his posture.

“Are your friends trying to get you and him back together?”

“This ain’t their business.”

He was drumming his fist into the side of his leg. “Why?”

“Why what?”

“Why did you call him?”

“I missed him.”

“Missed?” Richard kicked his heel into the concrete several times, each time saying, “Shit.”

He took quick steps over to me, was up in my face before I could raise my hand again. He sucked his teeth, bobbed his head.

“You fucked him, didn’t you?”

“What? No.”

“I saw him coming out of your bedroom last night.”

“You what? Please, quit.”

“Shelby, if you’re going to tell the truth, go all the way.”

“I didn’t have to tell you that much.”

Richard held his glower, shook his head, let out a groan.

He said, “I woke up and saw him sneak out of your bedroom.”

“You wish. Don’t even try that.”

“Why the hell was he tiptoeing out of your room at four o’clock this morning?”

“Is that what you were asking about this morning?”

“And you were all up in his face. With that shit on. It’s funny how you didn’t put it on until right before he came back.”

I snapped the creeping spandex out of my butt. “Tyrel was not in my bedroom. I was with Debra and you know that.”

“I don’t know where Debra was. Yesterday you had an attitude with him. Now you’re ignoring me and chasing the nigga. Something happened last night. I can put two and two together.”

“If you thought you saw something, why didn’t you walk down, say something, then?”

“Because.”

“Because you’re lying.”

“Because I love you, dammit. Don’t you get it?”

Richard sat on one of the deck chairs. He was doing it again. Taking control. Pushing me to get what he wanted. This time I love you was his weapon of choice.

“If I hadn’t come down, would you be with him?”

I sat on a deck chair facing Richard. For a few moments, my eyes went back at the house and contemplated. I’d never know how different things would’ve been if I’d flown alone. Maybe me and Tyrel wouldn’t’ve said a damn thing to each other. Maybe we’d’ve had a conversation about Leonard, and the emotions would’ve bonded us, and we would’ve loved away the pain like wild rabbits. Or maybe we would’ve just chilled, had a few laughs about old times, and been friends for a few days, then drifted our separate ways. Regardless, my feelings for Richard would be the same.

Richard reiterated, “Well, would you?”

“Maybe.”

“Would you want to be with him?”

“What do you mean?”

“Would you have fucked him?”

“A few days ago, yeah.”

“While we were engaged?”

I nodded. “If you don’t want to know, don’t ask.”

Richard shivered. His eyes misted. He gripped his beard and let out a long moan that chilled me more than the cool evening did. I was already cold enough, and my nipples were so hard they hurt. But this was jacked. Even when I tried to come correct, somebody always got hurt. And I was always at the top of the list.

“After what he did? After he mistreated you?”

“He never mistreated me.” My voice went distant, like I was reminding myself what had happened back then. “Tyrel didn’t kick me out. I dogged him and ran away because I was pregnant and I was too scared to think straight.”

“Pregnant?”

“Yep. Pregnant.”

“By him?”

“Yep.”

“You never told me that you two had a baby—”

“I didn’t have it. Keep wishing I had. Then me and Debra would be popping out rug rats close to the same age. Our children could play together, like we did. But I didn’t. So like Momma used to say, don’t cry over spilled milk.”

Richard didn’t make a sound. If he was gray, he could’ve passed for a statue. When I wiped my eyes, the tips of my fingers came back wet and salty. I straightened my back, cleared my throat. Gazed out over the hill and saw the city was lit up like a million candles.

I said, “I’m sorry. Seems like everybody gets hurt because of me.”

Richard grunted like he was constipated with pain. I held on to mine. Tried to puff some air, but my wind was short.

He said, “I don’t understand you.”

“I’m the only one who has to understand why I do what I do. Half of the time I don’t.”

He laid back and closed his eyes. After we shared an ungraceful moment of silence, his body calmed.

He asked, “Do you love me?”

“Nope. I’ve tried, but it’s just not gonna happen.”

“So you got engaged to me, but you won’t marry me?”

“Well, I guess you could put it that way.”

“You accepted my ring in front of my entire family.”

“Yep, I sure did.”

He let out a sad chuckle. “We just need some more time.”

“Time isn’t the problem. It’s compatibility.”

“What about him?”

“
Him
who? Why can’t you say his name?”

“Do you love—?” he coughed. “How do you feel about Tyrel?”

“What does that have to do with the cost of coffee in Jamaica? I’m talking about me and you.”

“Shelby.” His voice was so pained that it made me want to hold him, but I didn’t. As far as I was concerned, I’d resigned from the job I never wanted. He said, “Do you love him?”

“Think so.”

“In love with him?”

“Used to be. Think so. Yeah.”

Richard withered, shrank to half his size. “Fuck.”

He shut up and sat motionless for a long time. Gave me time to think. Time to rub and feel the diamond on my finger. Maybe it wasn’t such a bad thing that Momma didn’t have a ring on her finger when I gave her back to the earth. Just when I got used to the quiet, just when I thought I heard Momma talking to me in the winds, Richard sat up. Opened his eyes. He picked up his hand real slow, like it was made of lead, and wiped his face. Then he popped up like he’d stuck his finger in a light socket.

“I’m leaving.” He sounded revived. “Going back home to San Diego.”

I didn’t argue. Didn’t question.

We took short steps and roamed back to the house together. I even let him hold my hand. His touch didn’t feel so bad now.

Leonard’s voice came in loud and clear when the door opened. Debra was laughing and screaming.

When we passed by the den, Alejandria was resting on the sofa with her eyes closed, bouncing her foot. Bobby was on the floor, remote in hand, playing a VHS tape of Leonard and Debra. I’d recorded it, so I heard myself laughing in the background. Bobby was preparing some footage to be shown at the home-going.

Bobby sat up when I stepped in the den. Richard kept going toward the bedroom. When Richard was out of earshot, Bobby came to me, frowning. Alejandria stood, but didn’t cross the room.

Bobby asked, “You okay?”

“I’m okay.”

The lines in his cinnamon face smoothed out Alejandria gave me a golden smile. I sent a thank-you smile, finger-waved back.

Bobby said, “You’re sweating.”

“I know. Where’s Debra?”

Alejandria said, “She walked to a neighbor’s house.”

I lowered my voice and asked, “Tyrel?”

“He left when you and Richard walked out,” Bobby said. “I think he was heading down to the comedy club. You guys going?”

“Nope. I’m in for the night. No more drama for the kid.”

Richard had closed the bedroom door. I slowed, reached for the doorknob, but didn’t touch it. Stood there and listened. Snooped on him like he had been snooping on me. Dresser drawers were opening and closing. I did a slow walk down the hall.

Tyrel’s door was partway open. I peeped inside. Suitcases were on the bed. After I pulled my hair back, I went into Debra’s room. Closed the door. Looked over myself in the mirror, showered again, put on Debra’s wrinkled, white Malcolm X T-shirt and plaid USC sweat
pants. Pulled on a pair of ragged Thorlo hiking socks. There was a gentle knock on the door.

I paused, counted backward from ten, then sighed, “Come in.”

The door opened and Richard stood in the doorway. Bloodshot eyes. Skin puffed out, bags underneath. I felt bad for him. Actually, I felt bad for us. Once again, I’d wasted my time.

He said, “I wanted to apologize.”

“You didn’t do anything.”

“I knew you cared about him. But I love you and I’m not used to this. I don’t know what to do or how to make you love me.”

I didn’t answer, but that plea bargain wasn’t a real question. He was old enough to know you can’t make people love you. But I suppose when you’re wounded, logic ain’t logical. I let loose my empathy and kept my words soft. Tried to let him down easy. He was so unlike the intoxicated man who had pinned me down and gnawed my neck.

But it was hard to do the opposite of what you really felt. So much bullshit had happened so fast. Maybe it had been happening all along. Everything was different for everybody. Leonard was gone. Three days ago he was the dog who ran this yard. Now he was gone. Made me wonder where I’d be three days from now. This relationship was dead. It just needed to be buried.

He asked, “We’ll get together and talk when you get back.”

“No.”

“Just like that, no?”

“No.”

“Should I wait to hear from you?”

“No.”

“Will I hear from you?”

“Maybe.”

“Maybe?”

“Maybe. But I wouldn’t count on it.”

“Can I get something more definite?”

“I don’t know.”

Richard sighed.

I said, “Please don’t push it, okay? You always do that. I need to make my own decision uninterrupted.”

“Shelby—”

“Damn.” My empathy went away. “Right now I don’t know. All I can say is maybe. Maybe, all right? But that’s not a promise.”

Richard cleared his throat. “Sorry. Nervous habit.”

“It’s okay.”

My engagement ring sparkled when I took it off.

“No,” Richard’s eyes widened when he said that. “Keep it until this blows over and we’ll talk. I bought it for you.”

“No. It doesn’t work like that.” My feelings were definite without room for doubt. “I don’t want to owe you anything.”

“What are you saying?”

“The bottom line?”

“Yeah.”

“Let me break it down for you. You ain’t the one, the two, the three, the four, or the five. So, don’t expect anything.”

He whispered an offended “Don’t expect anything.”

When he reached out and took the ring, his hand touching mine felt strange. Like it would be the last time I ever touched him. Final. And that hurt, in a way. I cared more than I thought I would, but I didn’t mind the pain. I’d just pack it up and add that little hurt to my big hurts. It didn’t make me happy, but the new pain wasn’t unbearable. It was dull and fading.

I said, “I’ll take you to LAX.”

“Don’t bother. I already made reservations and called a cab. It’ll be here in a few minutes. I’ll be back home in a couple of hours. My sister is going to pick me up from the airport. Soon as I get home, I’ll call and let you know I made it in safely.”

“Don’t.”

He made a humph noise. “Well, at least tell Debra and Bobby and Alejandria I said good-bye. Give Debra my condolences.”

I shook my head. My voice wasn’t soft. “I don’t think so.” “What?”

“You know what’s really messed up more than anything between me and you?”

He was clueless.

“My best friend’s husband died. You own a big-ass flower shop. You did not bring or bother to send one single flower.”

My hard words made his jaw lock and his back straighten.

I asked, “Don’t you think that’s just a little bit fucked up?”

Richard stood for a moment, bobbing his head. His eyes were still calling me. He said, “I’m hurting, Shelby. You know you hurt me. You led me on.”

Richard stared at the ring, shook it around in his hand, bobbed his head, put his eyes back on me. I’d been nothing but a big frown with hair since my last words. Richard made a fuck-it sound, then turned and marched to the doorway.

He wiped his face and said, “Remember, what goes around, comes around.”

“It already has.”

The door made a soft clicking sound when it closed.

My hand was much lighter. Much.

Richard’s footsteps faded to nothing as he trudged down the hall toward the bedroom. Ten minutes later, a horn blew out front. More soft footsteps left the room down the hall. The front door opened. Closed. A taxi pulled away.

I thought I’d be ready to break out the Korbel champagne, but some sort of hollowness took over. Damn, I was empty.

Things I’ve read ran through my mind. Stuff like “Speech is a mirror to the soul.”—“Think a lot and talk very little.”

The thought that felt the heaviest was “One is not born a woman, one becomes one.”

I lay back on the mattress and watched the pearl-white
ceiling fan spin. Going in circles. Just like my life. Sniffled a few times. Let the silent tears roll down the side of my face and wet Debra’s pillow. Chewed my bottom lip, hummed a Luther Vandross song about a house not being a home, twisted my hair at the roots for a while, then leaned over to the nightstand to grab some tissues for my stuffy nose. Blew, then coughed, then blew again.