The Sweetest Taboo (16 page)

“So, if he was this great dude, then where do the pornos come in at?”

“That shit snuck up on me. He always told me he did movies, but I didn’t know it was pornos…at first. I guess I didn’t really ask either. I was so caught up in everything he was doing for me; and it wasn’t the money, the clothes, the jewelry or the house, at least not at that time, it was how he made me feel. He made me feel like ain’t shit else matter but me. And not since my mother died had I felt that way. So one night he asked me to do an audition and I did.”

“Real talk?”

“Real talk.”

“I can’t believe you did that.”

“Where was I gon’ go? He was all I had. And, yeah, I had a degree, but my degree didn’t make me. I thought Hassan did. So I had to balance the risk of me leaving him against losing my life. So I did what I had to do.”

“So you punked out?”

“No, I was seeing things for the way they were.”

“What? A buncha lies?”

“I didn’t see it that way. I saw it as survival.”

“Survival or caught up?”

“Both.”

“What about now?”

“Honestly, life is kicking my ass, but I’m in my own zone right now, trying to get it together.”

“So, if Hassan was so perfect, when did he change?”

“I don’t know. I wasn’t paying attention, I wanted to avoid the shit. I was too busy covering up for this niggah being fucked up, you think I took time to pinpoint exactly when he changed? Hell, one night I went to sleep with Prince Charming and the next morning I woke up with Flavor Flav.”

“Delicious, Flav gon’ kick yo’ ass.”

“Anyway,” she said, playfully rolling her eyes, “here I am with a husband I can’t stand. We fight, he talks to me any kind of way—”

“Fight? He puts his hands on you?”

“Well…yeah, he has…”

“Why would you allow him to put his hands on you? You could stop that. You should stop that.”

“Woulda, coulda, and shoulda are all friends and they have left the building. The only one still standin’ is me.”

“Look, ma’, I’m feelin’ you, I am. But this is too much drama.”

Immediately Drae’s heart sank, she started to think maybe she’d told him too much. “Besides,” he continued, “I promised myself I wasn’t going back down the married-chick road—”

“Cool, then don’t.” Rejection was always easier if she could cut the shit short. “Let’s enjoy the afternoon, you buy me some ice cream”—she pointed to the Mister Softee truck—“and we part, no love lost.”

“Why did you cut me off?”

“I didn’t cut you off.” She stood up.

“You did, but it’s cool.”

“Okay, Nasir, what?” She sat back down. “What were you going to say?”

“Nothing. You ’bout to bounce?”

“You puttin’ me out the playground?” Drae asked, surprised.

“I told you this was your world.”

“Well, I want some ice cream.”

He pulled out a twenty-dollar bill. “Here, go get it.” He pointed to the truck. “And then go home.”

“Now you being rude?” She did all she could to fight off her smile. After having her heart broken momentarily, she realized she had him in the palm of her hand.

“You know what, you’re right,” Naz assured her. “Have a seat, I’ll get it.”

“You should know by now that I like chocolate.” She licked her bottom lip.

Instantly Naz’s dick was hard, but he tried to play it off. He walked toward the truck and grabbed one cup and one cone of ice cream.

“This isn’t chocolate,” she said, as he handed her the cone.

“I figured you needed to get used to vanilla.”

“No problem, vanilla tastes good slidin’ down my throat.”

Naz shot her a “Stop fucking with me” look and Drae smiled. She leaned back on the bench, crossed her legs and started licking her ice cream, purposely letting the melting sides slide between her full cleavage.

“Oh damn.” She sucked her teeth. She arched her back and held her titties in his face as if she were Betty Boop. “Can you get this for me?”

He twisted his lips at her. “Drae”—Naz couldn’t help but smile—“why you fuckin’ wit’ me?”

“You have all the napkins.”

Naz took a napkin in his hand and wiped the melting cream from her cleavage.

“Oh, goodness,” she said. “It’s soooo sticky. Do you have anything wet you can squirt down there?”

Naz didn’t respond. He simply looked at her and continued eating his ice cream.

“You wouldn’t happen to have an attitude, would you?”

“Nah.” He licked his ice cream off the spoon. “I’m cool.”

“I thought so…wait—Baby,” Drae said sounding as if she was in a panic, “you have something right there.”

“Where?”

“Right here…” Drae moved in close to his face, took her tongue and slowly licked off the ice cream that had melted down his chin, leaving a trail of kisses down his neck and stopping at his chest hairs, which peeped up from the top of his wife-beater.

“What are you doing?”

“I was helping you get the ice cream off.” She took her thumb and ran it across his lips.

“I wish I could fuckin’ resist you. I’d leave you sittin’ here.”

“You can’t resist me?”

“Nah, and that’s a dangerous spot to be in with yo’ ass, ’cause you don’t give up.”

“Would you want me to?”

“I don’t do drama.”

“You don’t have to do drama, just do me.”

Naz couldn’t help but smile. “There you go.” He took a deep breath. “We got one time for me catch fever and this is a wrap.”

“I thought you didn’t do married chicks?”

“You’re married?” he asked sarcastically.

“Maybe not forever.”

“Look, I’m feelin’ you, I am. But I got a daughter and I’m not trying to get into no crazy shit, a’ight?”

“So what are you saying?”

“I’m saying that if we gon’ do this, it’s gon’ be by my rules this time.”

“And what are those?”

“We have to take it slow—”

“Okay. All I ask is that you be honest. Believe me, I’ve been lied to enough.”

“I will always be honest with you.” He pressed his chest against hers. “Now that we’ve established that, can we arrange for me to get some pussy tonight?”

She pressed her lips against his. “I was just thinking that.”

Yuri

         Every time Yuri looked at Jeff she hated that she wasn’t ready to leave him. She couldn’t stand to lie next to him, couldn’t stand the smell of him, the look of him or the thought of him. And she hated that corny-ass Caesar he rocked, that Mr. Clean fuckin’ earring he had and those hot-ass suits he wore…day in…and day out, and those ridiculous-ass Italian ties with the dice, the stripes and the eagles flying.

Not to mention he snored too hard, coughed too loud, sneezed too much, wasn’t freaky enough and the sound of his Prada penny loafers (with actual pennies in them) clacking against the hardwood floor more than pissed her off.

Jeff leaned against the bathroom door and stared at Yuri. Earth, Wind & Fire preached in the background as the lingering smoke from his dead cigar snuck in from the hallway.

“I can’t take that smell,” Yuri said, almost in a whisper, as she sat on the edge of the tub, holding the sides of an old mop bucket, where she’d been vomiting and having hot sweats for the last hour. She was too weak to stand, which was why she threw up in a bucket as opposed to the toilet. Unfortunately, vomiting and waking up next to Jeff had become a morning ritual she couldn’t seem to get rid of. When she first started getting sick, she thought she had the flu, but after a week straight of Theraflu and no change she diagnosed herself with a stomach virus, which by now should’ve run its course.

“What’s the problem, Jeff?” Yuri asked as she looked toward the door. “I’m holding you up from going to work or something?”

“Give the attitude a day off, Yuri, it’s obvious you’re really sick, and I decided to stay home and check on you. I scheduled a doctor’s appointment for tomorrow.”

“You…” she said in disbelief, “scheduled…a doctor’s appointment for me?”

“Yes, I’ll drop you off on my way to work.”

“Why, Jeff? You want some pussy or something—” before Yuri could continue, she was throwing up again.

“Yuri, drop it.” After she finished vomiting he touched her forehead. “You feel like you have a slight fever. What do you think is wrong?”

“I don’t know.” She wiped the sides of her mouth. “I’m just sick. Ever since I ate Chinese food a week or so ago at work, I’ve been sick as a dog.” For the first time it ran across her mind that maybe she had food poisoning.

“You need to get in bed,” he insisted.

“Why are you being so nice?”

“I’m not. I just don’t want you dying on my watch.”

“Hilarious, Jeff.”

“Yuri, just come get in the bed. This is ridiculous; we don’t hate each other, do we?”

She stared at him. “I don’t think so.”

He helped her up, she rinsed out the bucket and they walked to their bedroom, where she could tell he’d been strolling down memory lane with the multitude of records he had sprawled on the floor. She hoped he didn’t pull out his beat machine or, even worse, take out his Kangol hat and microphone.

Yuri crawled into bed. “What are you listening to?” She pointed to the records on the floor and the record player he’d hooked up.

“Five Star, ‘All Fall Down,’” he said, pulling the covers up to her chest and tucking in the sides.

She fell out laughing.

“What are you laughing for?” He couldn’t help but admire her smile, framed by two deep dimples. “This used to be my jam and you used to sing it to me; that’s how you hooked me. Don’t try and forget.”

“Oh please, I hooked you because you wanted some of this young inexperienced pussy,” she laughed. “Remember when you rapped and I was your backup singer?”

“I sure do, you were the Mistress of the Mic.”

“And you were MC Ice Right. Whatever happened to our group?” she snickered.

“Life. Life fucked us up, caused us to get married and mess up a good thing.”

“Jeff,” she said, taking a deep breath, the smile she wore immediately leaving her face, “why do you always have to bring up shit like that? How come you never go with the flow?”

“I don’t know what the flow is anymore.” They each stared at the other in silence. “I’ma run to Duane Reade,” Jeff said, breaking the troubling monotony, “and get you some medicine. You want some soup?”

“I don’t have an appetite.”

“That’s a new one….”

“See why we don’t get along? Damn, Jeff,” she said, exasperated. “It doesn’t stop.”

“You’re right. My apologies, that wasn’t called for.”

“Apology accepted,” she said halfheartedly.

“Well, you
have
to eat something.”

“Jeff, I’m
not
hungry.”

“I’m getting you some soup and that’s the end of it.”

“If you insist.” Yuri lay in bed and watched Jeff leave the room. When she heard the front door close, she turned over and called Drae.

“Hello?” Drae picked up on the first ring.

“What the hell is all that noise in the background?”

“I’m in the playground.”

“Why?”

“Remember that guy from the club?”

“The one-night stand you were fucking in the bathroom?”

“He wasn’t a one-night stand. Anyway, I’m on a mini-date with him.”

“Are you cheating on your husband? Oh, we have to talk.”

“Yes we do.”

“Look, I called because Jeff is being a little too nice. So if you don’t hear from me by eight o’clock tonight, bring your ass over here and make sure I’m not bodied and bagged.”

“Well, I hope I’m your beneficiary,” she chuckled. “And if you are bodied and bagged, how am I supposed to get in the house?”

“The Venus statue by the door—look behind it, there’s a spare key. Now, good-bye.” And she hung up.

“Yuri,” Jeff said in a whisper, “wake up.” He sat on the edge of the bed, handing her a tray with Tylenol Cold & Flu, chicken noodle soup, saltine crackers and a single red rose on it.

“This is sooooo sweet,” she said, smiling. She couldn’t bear to tell him that she couldn’t take the smell of the rose, so she bore with it. “Thank you. Make sure you keep on being sweet,” she teased.

“How I’ma keep being sweet when you know as soon as you get well, you won’t be home?”

Yuri looked at Jeff as if she could strangle him. “Is it even safe for me to eat this?”

“I’m not gon’ hurt you, Yuri, I’m simply making a statement.” He sat down on the floor and she noticed he had a bacon, egg and cheese McGriddle sandwich and an orange juice.

The smell was making her sick all over again. “Jeff,” she said while praying she didn’t vomit, “what you wanna ask me?”

“Ask you?” He sipped his juice.

“Yeah, what is it?” She placed the soup tray on the nightstand. “You got something that’s been on your mind and I’m giving you the opportunity to just ask me.”

“Yeah, right.”

“I’m serious as hell, Jeff. I’m not gon’ snap.”

“I’m not trying,” he said as he took a bite, “to argue with you, Yuri.”

“What did I just say? I promise I won’t snap, I won’t go off, none of that. I’d rather you just ask me than say a buncha slick shit.”

“All right…” It was obvious he was stalling. “Do you…still love me the same way you did…when we first…got together?”

“Do you still treat me the same way?”

He paused. “Maybe not.”

“Then, maybe I don’t feel the same way.”

“So what, you’re not in love with me anymore?”

Yuri stared at Jeff and she knew by the look on his face, the one underneath the smug smirk that attempted to say he didn’t give a fuck, that his heart sat bleeding on his sleeve and his mind pleaded for her to say something he desperately wanted to hear. “I still love you, Jeff.” She barely got out “But I’m not sure…”

“Sure of what?” he said anxiously.

“How long I can keep loving like this.”

“Like what?”

“Like we mad-ass roommates. I wanna be desperately in love. I wanna look at my man and see my whole world.”

“So that changed? You don’t look at me and see that?”

“Oh my God, have you been fucking yourself or what? Do you see how you treat me? You don’t treat me like you still want me. I’m with you but I’m dying for attention. You depend too much on me just waking up every morning being in love, as if the air holds some type of keep-me-sprung magic.”

“Excuse me, what about you? Since we being honest how about you owning up to the part you contributed to us being in this situation.”

Yuri sat quietly for a moment. She’d never really thought about taking any responsibility for their marriage falling apart: after all, he was the one with the bastard child. But then again, she was fucking Britt and perhaps her part in that didn’t make her and Jeff much different. “Yes, Jeff, I know that I haven’t made it easy to try and rebuild our marriage, but what you did really hurts. And every time Kathy calls here or your son comes over, it just takes me back to that day when I found those child support papers. I mean how would you feel? You’re in the hospital, I’m looking for insurance papers and guess what I find? A child support order. What the fuck do you think happened to me that day? Do you know how much I cried, how loud I cried, how quiet I cried, how plain and simply fucked up I was?!”

“Yuri, you never wanted any kids.”

She sat up in bed. The space between her throat and her esophagus ached, “And what…the fuck…does that have to do with you fucking that bitch and getting her pregnant? Nobody told you to go strolling through the trailer park picking up trash!”

“She’s not trailer park trash, Yuri.”

“You defending this bitch?!”

“No,” he said defensively, “I’m just saying you’re being a little harsh. Whether we like it or not she’s Jr.’s mother.”

“Do I look like I give a fuck?! Her being Jr.’s mother was your choice; I didn’t get not one nut outta that. Shit, for all intents and purposes I’m Jr.’s fuckin’ mother, half our income is taking care of his ass. What the fuck does Kathy do? That bitch doesn’t even work. You provide health insurance, she lives with her parents so she doesn’t pay rent, and not only do you pay child support, you pay Jr.’s tuition, pay for all his birthday parties, Christmas, Easter, everything you pay for. And you know what’s funny?” Yuri couldn’t believe it, but she felt as if she was about to cry, “I was here first,” she pointed to her chest. “We were a family, and then you let this bitch and this little boy come and take over your life and now I’m on the outside. It’s like I’m the mistress and shit.”

“So what you saying? You wanted to be Jr.’s mother?”

“Jeff please, I don’t even want a dog named Jr.”

Jeff blinked his eyes and cleared his throat. “Damn” was all he could say. After a few troubling minutes of silence, Jeff said, “You hate my son just that much?”

“No, I hate what you did.”

“So the problems come back to being Jeff’s fault again? I fucked up. I’m taking care of responsibilities with my child, Yuri—”

“Yes, Jeff, you are, but somebody, somewhere has to tell me how the hell to be happy about that.”

“I don’t know what to tell you, Yuri.”

“And I don’t know what I wanna hear either.”

They sat silent for a moment.

“A’ight,” Jeff said, “I can accept that, but let me ask you something, though, Yuri. Were you ever in love with me? I mean truly, truly in love with me?” Although he tried to look cool, she knew he wasn’t ready for the truth.

“What did I just tell you, Jeff?” She couldn’t bear to tell him again she loved him. “Nothing will stop me from caring about you, but you’re so wrapped up in me being in the streets, that you’re pushing me out there. You accuse me almost every day of cheating, so that I feel like either you’re doing it…again…or I may as well do it—”

“I’m not cheating on you, Yuri. I learned my lesson the last time.”

“When? When my GYN told me I had STDs that you and your eighteen-year-old mistress gave to me? Or when I found out you had a son?”

Jeff leaned back against the bed as if he’d fallen against a wall. “We’ll never get through this.”

“Maybe not.”

“So we’re done talking?”

“No, Jeff,” she said exasperated, going against her better judgment, “we’re not. I said we weren’t going to argue and that you could ask me anything. So go ahead.” She held her hands out in an “after you” fashion. “Continue.”

“So it’s cool?” He arched his eyebrows.