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Authors: Carl Weber

Tags: #Fiction, #Adultery, #Married men, #African American, #General, #Domestic fiction, #African American men

So You Call Yourself a Man (12 page)

BOOK: So You Call Yourself a Man
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23
James

It was a little after four in the morning when I pulled into my driveway with my headlights turned off, praying to God that Cathy was asleep. There wasn't a light on in the house as I eased around to the back door, so I was feeling pretty safe. I quietly let myself in, then slipped off my shoes in the kitchen. From there, I tiptoed up the stairs like a cat burglar, making sure not to make one stair creak. When I reached the top, I stubbed my toe on one of the kids' toys and went into mini-convulsions to keep from hollering. I was in so much pain, tears were coming out of my eyes, but I never made a sound. When I got the pain under control, I crept into my bedroom.

I couldn't make out more than the outline of her body, but it looked like Cathy was asleep on her side of the bed with her back to me. Now it was just a matter of getting into the bed without waking her up. One leg at a time, I slowly climbed in, trying not to make a sound. As I eased the covers around my neck, I sighed thankfully. God had answered my prayers, and now all I had to do was slide my pants off and go to sleep for the three hours before my alarm clock went off.

But there wasn't going to be any sleep for me tonight, because out of nowhere, there was movement from Cathy's side of the bed, and without warning, her end table light came on. The bulb's brightness stabbed at my eyes like a thousand pins, making me pull the covers completely over my face to protect them. When my eyes finally adjusted to the light, I was staring at Cathy's aggravated face. I hadn't seen her look like this since she tried to kick me out a few years back. Her face was flushed and her eyes were red, like she'd been crying for hours. There was no doubt in my mind that she knew I'd been gone, which meant I was in trouble. I clutched the covers up around my chin, trying to hide the fact that I was still dressed.

“Where the hell you been?”

“I didn't—” Cathy didn't even let me finish my lie before she reached down and snatched the covers off me.

She glanced at my clothes. “Now, I asked you a question. Where have you been?”

“Huh?” I was thinking about telling her I went for a walk.

“Don't
huh
me, James Robinson! You ain't hard of hearing. I said, where the hell have you been? I've been blowing up your phone ever since I heard your car pull out the driveway five hours ago.”

Let me rephrase what I was thinking before. I wasn't in trouble; I was in big trouble, because there's no such thing as a five-hour walk, especially since she heard me taking the car.

“Ah…ah…well…” What I was trying to do was get my lie together, to think it through so it would sound legit, but under this kind of pressure it was hard. The longer I waited to answer, the more heated Cathy seemed to get. Then a lightbulb went off in my head. Sonny. I'd blame it all on Sonny. Cathy would believe that since Sonny was always getting himself into trouble. But after seven years of marriage, she was on to that one before I even got the words out of my mouth.

“And don't even try that ‘I was with Sonny' crap, 'cause I called him. He said you were on your way home four hours ago, and I don't even believe he was with you then. I'm surprised he didn't try to warn you that I called. Anyway, it don't take four hours to come from his house. It only takes fifteen minutes. So where the fuck were you?”

Sonny probably did try to warn me, but I'd left my phone in the car to charge while I was babysitting Marcus. Stupid me, I never even checked to see if I had any calls. Well, there was always Brent. Now that he was married, Cathy would never call his house this late.

“Oh, and I called Brent too. He and Alison were at home in bed like married people are supposed to be, so don't even go there either.”

“I wasn't gonna say that.”

“Then what were you going to say?”

I stared at her dumbfounded for a few seconds because I was just plain stuck. I knew I had to tell her something. I just didn't have any idea what it was. When I didn't answer her question fast enough, her eyes began to fill up with tears. She shook her head like I'd already given her an answer and it wasn't what she wanted to hear. Slowly, tears fell from her eyes, until her face was covered with salty streams.

“Who is she?” she sobbed.

“Huh?”

Her voice became more serious and she was gritting her teeth. “Who is she?”

I'd never felt so trapped before in my entire life. I loved this woman more than I loved myself, and I wanted to tell her the truth, but sometimes the truth is more painful than the lie. I looked at Cathy and I could see the pain I'd caused her spread across her face. I knew I had to do something, but the only thing I could think of was to play dumb.

“What are you talkin' about?”

“What am I talking about? Don't you play stupid with me, James Robinson. I wanna know who she is. And please don't tell me it's someone I know.” I tried to put on a confused expression, like I didn't have a clue, but that only set her off. She reached down and grabbed the clock radio, throwing it at me. I batted it away with my arm, but if I was a second slower, it would have broken my nose.

“Hey, what's wrong with you? Stop it!” I yelled as she grabbed a coffee cup and flung it across the room. This time I ducked, and the cup ricocheted off the wall, hitting me in the back of the neck.

“I'm not stopping shit until you tell me the truth. Who the fuck is she?”

She reached for the lamp, and I grabbed her arm, throwing her on the bed. “I said, stop it! I'm not messing with anybody!”

“You're a liar,” she cried, then began swinging her hands at me like a maniac. “I know you're cheating on me, James.”

Before I could deny it, she hit me in the head, and God only knows where I found the control not to hit her back. “No, baby, I swear I'm not.”

She hit me again and I held her arms, pinning her to the bed.

“Damn it, Cathy, stop it! I swear to God I'm not doing anything.” She was struggling to get free.

“If you're not doing anything, why you sneaking out in the middle of the night?” She continued to struggle. “You don't think I noticed you've been gone all the time? You've got more excuses to be out this house than you do to be in it. If there's somebody else, just tell me! Just tell me so I can move on with my life.”

“Cathy, I swear to God I'm not cheating on you.”

There was a quick knock on the door, then light from the hallway flooded the room as my oldest son, James Jr., pushed open the door. I was praying that Cathy wouldn't continue her wild tirade with our son in the room.

“Mom, you okay?” he murmured, sounding scared and confused. I immediately let go of her wrists, as I watched my son staring at her tear-drenched face. “Mom, you okay?” he repeated. I was surprised when Cathy didn't answer him.

“She's fine, Jay-Jay. Go back to bed, son,” I said firmly.

He ignored my command, walking closer to our bed with a raised voice like he was a grown man. “I was talking to Mommy.” His voice softened. “You okay, Mom? Why you crying?” For the first time since he was born, my son challenged my authority. It was like taking a shotgun blast through the chest, because at that moment, I could feel my son's hatred, and I couldn't blame anyone but myself.

“Get off of her!” he shouted.

That was it. Whether I was to blame or not, I was not going to be disrespected by my eight-year-old child. I was about to get up and slap the taste out of his mouth. He knew I didn't play that shit. At that point, Cathy took over as only a mother could, putting aside her anger at me to protect my relationship with my son.

“It's all right, Jay-Jay. Mommy's fine. Daddy and I were just playing. Now go to your room like Daddy said.”

My son glanced at me with disdain as he wrapped his arms around his mother's neck, whispering, “Okay, but if you need me, I'm in my bedroom.”

I watched him walk out of the room like he didn't have a fear in the world, and the only thing that came to mind was that he was just like me.

“Get off of me,” Cathy snapped as soon as he was gone. I let her up from the bed.

“Do you know what he asked me yesterday?” Tears welled in her eyes again.

“No.” I closed my eyes, awaiting her response.

“He asked me, ‘Are you and Daddy getting a divorce?'” Cathy stopped talking for a second as her voice cracked. She swallowed back her tears and continued. “He's old enough to remember what it was like when we had problems before. He adores you, James, but he knows something's wrong. You didn't even go to their games on Saturday. You never missed a game before.”

I felt like shit. “I'll go talk to him.” I stepped off the bed and she grabbed my arm.

“I think you need to talk to me before you talk to him.”

She gave me that look again. I didn't want to go through what we just went through before, so I pleaded a little more humbly. “Baby, I ain't been with nobody. You gotta trust me.”

“Trust you? Why should I?”

“Okay, I didn't want to tell you this, but…”

Cathy sat up, looking at me with those big, innocent doe eyes. “Tell me what?”

“You really wanna know where I've been?”

“Yes.” She nodded slowly. “I wanna know.”

I wanted to tell her to be careful what she asked for, because the truth is a double-edged sword, so it can cut you from two directions. But if she wanted the truth, I'd give it to her. I was tired of lying, and even more tired from being up all night and fighting with her. It was time for the truth. Besides, it couldn't get any worse. She already thought I was fooling around. Which was worse, me having an affair now or me having a kid out of wedlock? I guess I was about to find out.

I reached out and took her hand. I was surprised that she let me touch her, although she looked like she was holding her breath as she waited for me to speak.

“Cathy, before I tell you this, I just want you to know how much I love you and our boys.”

“We love you too, James. Now tell me what's going on.”

“Damn, I don't even know where to start.” I heaved a deep sigh. “We're behind on the mortgage, Cathy. And I know you don't like it, but I took on a second job, driving for an escort service at night to get us caught up.” I just couldn't do it. I was so close to telling her the truth about Michelle, but I lost my nerve when this lie popped into my head. I used to drive female escorts around when Cathy and I first met, but she put a stop to it right after we got married. With that history, it wasn't so far-fetched for her to believe that I'd started driving again.

Apparently the lie was a good one, because she no longer looked concerned about me cheating; she looked scared to death about the mortgage. I was glad she never looked at the bills.

“How did this happen?”

“Thank your boy Mayor Bloomberg and his new tax assessment. Because of him, our mortgage went up three hundred dollars a month.”

“How far behind are we?”

“Well, we were three months behind, and they were about to put us into foreclosure before I took this second job, but now we're just two months behind.” I knew the word “foreclosure” would be enough to make her forget about her suspicions. Once the lie came to me, it was easy to keep spinning the false tale.

“Thank God. We're not going to lose this house, are we, baby?” Now I was “baby” again.

“No, we're not going to lose the house. Not if I can help it. But I am going to have to continue to work some late nights. I know you don't want me driving for an escort service, but it's the only fast money I know how to make.”

“Don't worry about me. You just do what you gotta do to save our house. If I have to, I'll get a second job too.” Cathy started to cry again, and I felt like such a dog, especially when she scooted over and put her arms around me.

Oh, the web we weave when we practice to deceive
, I thought. As soon as I told that lie, I knew I was going to have to tell another lie to cover it, but I couldn't bear to tell her about Marcus. I wanted to stop lying, but I just couldn't break her heart like that. How could I explain that I'd been with another woman while we were having problems, and conceived a child outside of our marriage? There were just no mitigating circumstances or excuses for that. When we first separated, Cathy and I had been going to counseling, trying to repair our marriage, and I'd still chosen to pursue the affair with Michelle. Cathy believed we were well on our way to happiness again, and this would seem like a mockery of all that she held sacred.

24
Brent

“Look, man, I gotta get out of here. Cathy's cooking fried chicken, and you know how much I love her fried chicken.” James smiled contentedly as he folded the check I'd given him and placed it in his wallet. We'd just spent the last hour talking about and even doing a little praying about his situation with Michelle. I'd known the guy for over thirty years, and I'd never seen him look this depressed, so I felt obligated to help him both spiritually and financially. I'd given him a check so that he could finally put this whole paternity thing behind him. Maybe finding out the truth would give him some peace of mind. I just hoped it was the truth he was looking for.

“I wanna thank you for this, Brent.”

“Not a problem,” I replied as he gave me a grateful hug.

“Tell Alison I said hi.”

“I sure will.” I walked him to the door and he hugged me again.

“Call me when you get your results.”

James nodded as he walked out the door. “You'll be the first to know. I'll see you at church on Sunday.”

“I'll be looking forward to it.”

I closed the door and walked into the kitchen to fix myself a frozen dinner. It was a little after seven in the evening, and Alison wouldn't be home from visiting the first lady until some time around 8:30, or 9 o'clock. Now that I thought about it, I should have asked James to call Cathy and see if I could join them for some of that fried chicken. Cathy wasn't a gourmet in the kitchen like my wife, but she could fry the heck out of some bird. Well, hindsight is 20/20, I decided, as I pulled out a potpie and turned the toaster oven up to 350 degrees. Just then, the phone rang, and I wondered if James had left something behind.

“Hello.”

“Brent?” It was Alison.

“Hey, honey, what's up? You still at the hospital?”

“Yeah, we're about to bring the first lady down to the chapel. There are too many people in the room and even more in the lobby. The entire women's choir showed up to see her after rehearsal, so the bishop asked the hospital chaplain if it was all right for us to have a service in the chapel, and he said yes.”

“Y'all having a service? Maybe I should come on down there.”

“No, you stay right where you're at. It's a women's devotional service for the first lady. I don't need you showing up and working up all these women. It's bad enough I've got to look at them gawk at you on Sunday. Besides, I want you to set the table for two. I've got a little surprise for you.”

“A surprise? Don't tell me.” I was smiling from ear to ear. “You're pregnant?”

“No, baby, I'm not pregnant yet,” she replied sadly. “But that is something we need to work on when I get home. I know I'm ovulating.”

“So…what's the surprise?”

“Did you eat yet?”

“No, I was just about to put a potpie in the oven.”

“Well, I'm glad I caught you because I just sent someone over to The Rib Shack to bring you some of those ribs you like so much.”

“Some Rib Shack ribs? Praise God, that sounds good.” I shoved the potpie back in its container, then into the freezer. I loved me some Rib Shack ribs. The meat just falls off the bone. “Who you got bringing them over? Don't tell me it's that crazy Shorty.”

“No, I haven't seen Shorty tonight, so I sent Jackie.” My heart almost missed a beat.

“Jackie? Jackie Moss, the organ player? Now, that is a surprise.” This was more than just a surprise, it was an unwelcome one. “Ah…you know, honey, that's not necessary. I'm actually kind of tired, and by the time Jackie gets here, I will have eaten my potpie and gone to bed. So go on and tell Jackie I said some other time.”

“I can't. I gave Jackie the money almost half an hour ago. Your food should be there any moment.”

Of course, you know at that exact moment the doorbell rang. I closed my eyes, praying Jackie would behave and respect my marriage. I didn't have much faith in my prayer being answered, though. Maybe I should have just told Alison about the advances Jackie had been making on me. What better way to stop your wife from sending her rivals to your bed than to make sure she knows who her rivals are? I actually considered telling her for a minute, but realized it would be impossible. Telling Alison that the spouse of a church trustee was relentlessly pursuing me would end up causing a whole lot more drama than I was already having fending off Jackie's advances. Besides, in a way, I was just as guilty as Jackie because I sometimes enjoyed the attention and couldn't control my attraction.

“Brent, are you still there, honey? Is something wrong?”

“No honey, nothing's wrong. I just hear someone at the door. I think Jackie's here.”

“All right, then. Go eat your dinner so you can get some rest. I'll be home after a while. I love you, Brent.”

“I love you too.” She hung up the phone as the doorbell rang again.

I slowly walked to the door, hesitating before I opened it. Once again, I closed my eyes to pray, but a vision of Jackie's exposed rear end waiting for me on the other side of the door flashed into my mind. My eyes flew open. That was not the thought I wanted to have as I opened the door. Not if I wanted to make it through dinner without getting myself into trouble.

I opened the door and as usual, Jackie was looking good and smelling good.

“Hey, Brother Williams, your wife asked me to bring you some dinner.”

I was surprised by Jackie's formality. Usually when we were alone, I was addressed by my first name or some endearing term. I stuck my head out the door, assuming there must be a church member lurking behind Jackie or sitting in the car, but there was no one.

“I know. She called.” I stood there trying to avoid Jackie's piercing stare. That is, until I realized Jackie wasn't staring at me at all.

“Well, can I come in? The food's going to get cold. I've got potato salad, macaroni and cheese, collard greens, corn bread, and two pound of ribs. Oh, and peach cobbler.” I stepped aside and Jackie walked by very nonchalantly, without even looking my way. I was confused. This wasn't the same aggressive Jackie that barged into my house so many times before and mooned me in the church two Sundays ago. No, this Jackie seemed more laid back, more subdued, more down to business, and maybe even uninterested in me. “Where would you like to eat?”

“How about over there?” I pointed to the dining room.

Jackie nodded, leading the way. Lord knows I tried, but I couldn't keep my mind or my eyes off Jackie's ass. It was as if there was a
LOOK AT ME
sign plastered on both cheeks. Jackie caught me looking too, dead to rights, but instead of that arrogant you-know-you-want-me smirk I was accustomed to, I got nothing. No reaction at all, just a, “Where are the plates?” And believe it or not, that bothered me. It bothered me a lot.

A few minutes later, Jackie was taking the dishes out of the breakfront and setting the table while I opened a bottle of wine. My dinner companion brought another confused look to my face by declining anything stronger than wine. On Jackie's last visit, my liquor cabinet had been raided within minutes. I was glad we avoided that because hard liquor made Jackie much more aggressive.

Once the table was set and the wineglasses were filled, we sat down to bless the food and eat dinner. The meal was uneventful, mostly small talk about church gossip and politics. I have to admit, I really enjoyed myself. I got a chance to see a side of Jackie that I'd never seen before, and as far as I was concerned, we could have talked all night. Not only was Jackie sexy, but was also surprisingly intelligent. There was one part of the meal where things got a little hot, though, and I'm not even sure if Jackie was aware of it. You see, Jackie had a way of eating ribs that was more like fellatio than consuming food. Just watching those lips nibble on those ribs and suck the juice out of those bones had my manhood standing at attention. By the time we finished our meal, I was sweating.

I was so sexually aroused that I actually thought about making a move. Probably the biggest reason I didn't was because something inside told me that Jackie and Trustee Moss had found some common ground in their relationship. I came to this conclusion because Jackie hadn't made one move toward me. I was actually upset when we were sitting in the living room and finished off the bottle of wine, because Jackie suggested it was time to leave. That, of course, was the last thing I wanted. Reluctantly, I walked Jackie to the door. Believe it or not, the thought of asking for a good-night kiss came to mind, although I wasn't brazen enough to open my mouth and do it.

“Brent, there's something you should know,” Jackie said softly, looking up at me. This was where I expected Jackie to tell me about working things out with Trustee Moss and that we couldn't see each other outside of social events.

“What's that?” I leaned over so that I could smell Jackie's hair.

“I'm going out to dinner on Friday night at Umberto's.” Well, that solidified it for me. I knew they were going to work things out because Umberto's was Jackie's favorite restaurant.

“I'm happy for you, Jackie. I'm sure Trustee Moss is happy about it too.”

“You don't understand. I'm not going with the trustee.” My back straightened up, and Jackie looked at me with what could only be described as a guilt-ridden face.

“If you're not going with Trustee Moss, then who?” I held my breath as I waited for an answer.

“Jonathan Wilcox.” The name rolled off of Jackie's tongue like a love song and stuck in my throat like a slimy piece of okra, making me want to gag.

“Jonathan Wilcox from the choir?”

Jackie nodded, and I was speechless for a few seconds. I couldn't stand whiney behind Jonathan Wilcox, and I'm sure that's one of the reasons Jackie was dating him.

“Jonathan Wilcox is a sissy boy,” I pointed out, still trying to conceal my mounting jealousy.

“No, he's not a sissy,” Jackie snapped defensively. “He's a nice young man.”

“Young is right. He's a kid! What is he, twenty years old? I thought you didn't like younger men.”

“He's twenty-four, and unlike some men I've been interested in, he appreciates me.” Jackie smirked as if a naughty thought had just come to mind, and I got a chill because that smirk used to be reserved for me. “He also appreciates what I can do for him.”

Oh, my God, had Jackie actually done it with Jonathan? An image of them together popped into my head. The thought turned my stomach. The truly absurd thing was that Jackie and I were sitting here discussing a date, both of us ignoring the obvious fact that married people are not supposed to be going out on dates to begin with.

“What you can do for him! What the heck have you done with him?” My voice was sharp and demanded an answer. The question was, did I really want one?

“I haven't done nothin' yet. But Friday's only three days away.”

“You can't be serious about Jonathan Wilcox.” I started to laugh but was cut off by Jackie's very serious face.

“Why can't I? You don't want me. I've given you every opportunity to make a move tonight. Do you really think I eat ribs that way?” An image of Jackie nibbling and sucking on those rib bones popped back into my head and I immediately broke out in a sweat. “That was for your benefit. I was trying to show you what I can do with my mouth. I wanted to turn you on. I obviously failed.”

No, you didn't
, I wanted to scream.

I couldn't believe Jackie had purposely been sucking on those ribs to put sexual thoughts in my head. I was so weak, I fell right into the trap. And even worse, now that I'd given it enough thought, another image flashed in my head of those lips working over my penis, and it instantly sprang back to attention. I tried to inconspicuously move my hand to conceal it, but it was too late. Jackie's eagle eyes spotted it, and I knew it when both eyebrows went up.

“Mmm, mmm, mmm, what do we have here? No, don't do that. Why you trying to hide it? I'm flattered.” Jackie's hands were on mine, moving them out of the way. I shuddered with pleasure and with shame as a battle raged within me. My conscience was screaming for me to stop, but the nearness of Jackie's body, the images flashing in my mind, and the fact that my wife had been spending too much time away from home all came together at that moment to overwhelm me. I'm sorry, but I could no longer control my desire.

I put my hand over Jackie's and held it on my erection. Our eyes locked, and I leaned in closer. My mouth pressed against those full, beautiful lips I'd been staring at throughout dinner and I felt the heat rushing through my body. I loved my wife, but she'd never made me feel this kind of electricity, especially with just a kiss. A moan escaped as I opened my mouth and my tongue came out to explore Jackie's mouth. As our tongues intertwined, I heard the last few faint protests from my conscience before my lust completely took control. There was only one thing I wanted now, and though it went against everything I believed in, I was ready to break my marriage vows and make love to Jackie.

“I want you,” I whispered as I kissed Jackie's ear.

“You ain't said nothing but a word.” It didn't take long for Jackie's jeans and underwear to slide down to the floor. “Come on, Brent, take it out. Let's see what you're working with.”

A few seconds later, I was unzipping my pants as I kissed the back of Jackie's neck. I'd never felt so much passion in my entire life as I watched my lover assume the position with hands flat against my front door.

“Put it in,” Jackie insisted, and I was about to oblige when a crucial thought crossed my mind. Lord, how would Alison feel if she knew I was about to make love to Jackie?

“I've gotta get a condom,” I replied as I dashed into my bedroom. I may have never been as consumed with lust as I was at that moment, but I just wasn't going to be stupid.

BOOK: So You Call Yourself a Man
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