I Saw Your Profile (9 page)

    
“Your son? You mean
the son that you never see because you are never home? The son who barely knows
you? I’m moving out.”

 
    
“How are you going to
make it without me?”

 
    
Nicole laughed. “You
must be kidding. I’ve got a job, Jamal, remember? You’re a piss poor excuse for
a man and an even worse excuse for a father. I’ve been alone living
with
you so I know I can do alone
better
without
you.”

    
Nicole gave the movers
instructions, put the baby in his car seat and drove off. She headed south on
the Baltimore-Washington Parkway for Bowie.

    
She followed
hand-written directions to her new address; a tree-lined street with neatly
manicured lawns, and drove into the driveway of the town home she’d rented with
an option to buy.

    
She sat in the
driveway and cried silently while the baby slept in the back. Leaving his
father was the right thing to do, but that didn’t make her feel better. She
wasn’t supposed to be a single mother, a statistic. She was a college graduate.
She was supposed to have a career. Before she became a mother, she was supposed
to have been a wife.

    
She looked in the
rearview mirror and wiped the tears from her eyes. “Enough self-pity. He’s not
worth it.”

    
She whispered in her
son’s ear as she lifted him from the car seat. “We’re going to be just fine.”

    
She grabbed her purse
and keys and walked into her new, empty home.

    
Nicole pushed the
doubts she had begun to have about Chauncey to the side.
She left
the gym and went back to the hallway and dialed his cell phone. She needed to
hear his voice.

     
“Hi, baby.”

    
“Hello sweethaart. I’m
on my way home. When are you coming?”

     
“Soon as the
game’s over. Jay’s team is winning. He told Jamal he had a game tonight and the
man actually showed up.”

    
“That’s good for the
boy. I can’t remember the last time he came for him.”

    
“Apparently he’s
getting serious with some woman and she wants to meet Jay.”

    
“That’s what it takes
for some men, I guess. Daahling, make sure you come straight home. I want to
spend time with you before I leave.”

    
“Where are you going?”

    
“Don’t you remember? I
told you I had a pamper party.”

    
The feelings of doubt
came rushing back. Nicole sighed.
    
“No, Chauncey. I don’t
remember.”

    
“Well just think about
the money, sweetie. If things keep going well, I can take you on the vacation
we’ve been talking about and I will pay for the entire trip.”

    
Nicole felt as though
a heavy rock had sunk to the bottom of her gut.

    
Was she blind? Were
Candace and Jamal right?

    
“I’d rather you pay
more bills,” she said through clenched teeth. “I never see any of this money
you make from these parties. What do you do with it?”

    
“Daahling, you know
that I am helping to take care of my mum back home.”

    
Nicole’s blood
pressure and tone began to rise.

    
“It’d be nice if you
helped out more where you eat and sleep for
 
a change. When are you coming back?”

    
“Sunday. It’s just a
weekend gig,” Chauncey said.

    
Feeling several pairs
of eyes on her, Nicole stepped outside. She was too hot to cool down and didn’t
want the attention.

    
“California was a
weekend gig and you stayed five days,” she shouted.

    
Chauncey remained
calm. “Daahling why are you so upset?
  
They arranged for me to see more
clients, so I stayed longer.”

    
Nicole clenched her
teeth and put her free hand on her hip. “If I called your clients would they
give me the same story?”

 
   
Chauncey’s response was
filled with righteous indignation. “Story? It’s not a story. I will give you
the name and the number if you like. But if you have to make that call, then
you shouldn’t be with me in the first place.”

    
Silence.

    
Nicole’s moment of
clarity had been suddenly clouded by the thought of being alone. She took a
deep breath and regained her composure.

    
“Let’s finish this
when I get home.”

    
“Are you sure you want
me to be here when you get home? If I’m not handling my share of our
responsibilities to your satisfaction, perhaps you’d like me to make other
living arrangements?”

    
“Did I say that,
Chauncey?”

    
“Sometimes, it’s not
what you say, dear. It’s how you say it. I sense a lack of trust on your
behalf. Without trust, we have nothing.”

Chapter Nine

The
doorbell rang repeatedly followed by a thunderous knock.

The pounding roused Janelle from
the peaceful slumber she had just slipped into following a session of carnal
pleasure with her new masseur.

The neon
red digits on the nightstand clock screamed one p.m.

It was
Sunday. Janelle lay in bed hoping the intruder would disappear.

“Janelle
open the damn door. I know you’re home. I see your car out here.”

It was
her best friend Vanessa, yelling from the living room window by the front door.
Janelle’s bedroom was right off the living room and Vanessa’s voice rang clear.

Janelle
rolled out of bed naked, her round face framed by matted and tangled hair, the
inside of her thighs moist and sticky. She snatched a robe from the bedpost,
slid on a pair of flip-flops and toddled to the front door dragging her feet.

“Alright
already. Hold on.”

She
opened the door and Vanessa, a light-skinned sister whose loud voice
contradicted her petite frame, rushed in impatiently. “What the hell is up with
you? Are you sick? You couldn’t call and tell me you weren’t meetin me?”

Confusion
covered Janelle’s face like a blanket.

“What
are you talking about, Vanessa?”

Vanessa
stomped past her, swinging her shoulder-length brown hair, and bounced on the
living room couch.

 
“What? You tryin to say you don’t
remember?”

Janelle
plopped down beside her. “Remember what and why are you talking so loud?”

“I
always talk this loud and I wanna know why the hell you had my ass at Denny’s
waitin for you for over an hour while you been here chillin out?”

Janelle
slapped her cheeks. Her mouth flew open as if her jaw was wired to her hands
like a garage door to a remote control. “Oh my god. I was supposed to meet you
for breakfast. I completely forgot.”

Vanessa
changed positions to get a better look at Janelle. “You look like you had a
rough night.” She sniffed. “And what is that smell?”

Janelle
crossed her legs and tightened the belt around her waist. “What smell?”

“Sex,
heifer. You smell like sex!”

Chauncey
emerged from her bedroom right on cue. “Is everything all right out here?” he
asked.

One of
Janelle’s clients had been so impressed by the pamper party at the salon; the
client had arranged a party at her home that weekend.

He and
Janelle hooked up when he was done working.

Vanessa
exposed her tonsils at the sight of Chauncey standing in Janelle’s living room
wearing only a pair of pants.

Janelle
had shown her his online picture.

“Ain’t
you the massage man?” she asked.

He
grinned. “Well, no one’s ever referred to me by that name, but yes. And you
are?”

Janelle
interrupted. “This is my friend, Vanessa. We were supposed to have breakfast
this morning and I forgot.” She turned to Vanessa with raised eyebrows. “I am
sorry, sweetie. How about dinner a little later?”

“That’s
okay, Janelle,” Chauncey said. “You go ahead. Spend time with your friend. I
need to get on the road anyway.”

Janelle
was disappointed. “Are you sure?”

“Yes. I
need to pick up my partner at the motel. May I use your shower, dear?”

“Sure.
I’ll get you a towel and face cloth.”

“It was
nice meeting you Miss Vanessa.”

 
After he showered and got dressed,
Janelle, still unkempt, walked him to the door. He kissed her goodbye and
promised to call when he got home.

She
watched him from the window, running her eyes over his muscular frame, smiling
at the way he leaned back in the driver’s seat and cocked his head to the side.

 
“Girl, get away from that damn window
actin like a teenager.”

“Shut
up, Vanessa.”

 
“You sure gave it up easy. What’s this
your second time hookin up with him? You should have gotten your funky ass in
that shower with him. What’d y’all do screw all night?”

“We
didn’t screw. We made love. You make everything sound so nasty.”

“Y’all
screwed, girlfriend. People who’ve only known each other a few weeks don’t make
love. They fuck.”

Janelle
sucked her teeth. “You should know.”

“That’s
right. I should.”

“I’m
going to take a shower.”

“Please
do. I can wait. You know I ain’t goin nowhere until I get all the details on
Mr. Massage Man.”

The aroma
of hazelnut coffee, bacon and eggs filled Janelle’s kitchen as she prepared
breakfast as a peace offering for standing up Vanessa.

But the
real dish was the events of the night before.

“He’s
everything I’ve been looking for in a man; smart, educated, good looking and
great in bed,” Janelle said as she placed freshly cooked strips of bacon on a
paper towel.

Vanessa
was sitting at the table waiting to be served.

“You
need to slow your ass down, Janelle. You can’t tell the difference between lust
and love ‘cause you move too damn fast.”

Janelle
turned away from the stove to face Vanessa. “That’s not true. You make me sound
like a slut when you’ve had more dick than ten prostitutes.”

    
Vanessa gave her the
finger. “Fuck you, Janelle. This
              
           
ain’t
about morals or how many guys you slept with. But since you and Alvin broke up,
the ones you have been with ain’t been about shit.”

She took
a sip of coffee and continued. “Women don’t know how to separate the physical
from the emotional. And when you get physical too quick, you get all caught up
and you think it’s love. Aren’t you sick of makin the same mistakes over and
over?”

 
Janelle put the food on the table, then
refilled Vanessa’s coffee mug before taking a seat.

“This
one is different. Besides, his kiss was so intense, so passionate, I couldn’t
help myself. There was nothing I could do but sleep with him.”

“Yeah
there was. You could’ve stopped kissin his ass and you damn sure didn’t hafta
drop the panties. What the hell do you know about this man? You just met him.”

“I know
enough. I know I like him. I like the way he makes me feel about myself when
I’m with him. I think he sees past what size I wear.”

Vanessa
sighed as she filled her plate. “Look. There ain’t no way you can tell what the
hell this man sees or cares about after two dates. I don’t care what he says.
And you should feel good about yourself without a man.”

Vanessa
ate a forkful of eggs and talked as she chewed. “If it’s dick you want, then
get you some dick. Men been shaggin the pussy and pullin a Houdini since the
beginning of time. But if a sista likes to fuck, she gotta be a ho or a slut?
No I don’t play that shit. All I’m sayin is don’t get all caught up with this
nigga in your head. ‘Cause that’s a whole notha story.”

Janelle
slammed her hands on the table. “Why are you raining on my damn parade? I
really like this guy. I think he could be the one.”

“How do
you know that when you don’t even know him?”

“It’s a
feeling.”

“Alright,
Ms. It’s a feelin. Don’t be surprised when you find out he’s got a wife and
kids stashed some damn where. You’ve had two dates with this man and you’ve
already got yourself walkin down the aisle with him. That’s how we women are.
We meet a guy who’s halfway decent and we’re makin weddin plans before the
waiter brings the check.”

The
conversation stole Janelle’s appetite. She snatched up her plate and scraped
the contents into the garbage disposal. “Damn, you are so bitter, Vanessa.”

“I’m
bitter because I’m tellin you to slow your roll? Shit, Janelle. This is a man
you don’t know from Adam. All I’m sayin is be careful.”