Behind Closed Doors

R
EGINA CRUISED
the silver Mercedes in front of her two-story house and beamed with much admiration. The mere sight of Wesleyan Estates sent chills through her entire body. Perfectly landscaped lawns, a nearby golf course, gorgeous houses occupied by wealthy residents. She’d been blessed. Blessed at the age of thirty with what most black people were never able to reap throughout an entire lifetime. And it had all transpired in such perfect order too, one splendid event right after another. Graduating from U of I with no preposterous student loan balances to repay, marrying a well-educated, highly paid, gorgeous-looking black man named Larry, and then purchasing this immaculate home, located in a ninety-nine-percent white, upper-echelon subdivision. Simply put, they had it all. They’d obtained the American dream without even realizing it.

She crept past Larry’s crystal white Lexus, parked next to the Cherokee inside the two-car garage, and frowned when she realized the door had been left wide open. She’d fussed at Larry no less than a thousand times for not closing that garage door, and still he didn’t seem to be paying her the slightest bit of attention. Just didn’t seem to be worried, since they lived in this ritzy neighborhood. But then he’d have a totally different attitude once all of those expensive yard toys of his came up missing. That high-tech electric edger, top-of-the-line snow thrower, and brand-new mulching lawn mower. It was so strange how men always had to learn everything the hard way. Just couldn’t tell them anything.

She removed the key from the ignition, stepped out of the car, shut the door, pressed the garage door control on the wall, and walked through the door leading to the hunter green, country-style kitchen. She spotted today’s mail stacked on the wooden, tiled-top table where Larry had left it. Bills, bills, bills. Not a day seemed to pass by without one showing up. Nordstrom, Saks, Visa, Discover. She might as well have listed them as joint owners on her checking account with all the checks that were written out to each of them every month, she thought, tossing the bills back onto the table one by one. But at the bottom of the pile was an elegant picture of Oprah Winfrey displayed across the cover of
Essence
magazine. It was their twenty-fifth anniversary issue, and it appeared to be pretty interesting. She’d definitely have to make sure and find time to read this before the weekend was over.

As she climbed the winding stairs and entered the upstairs hallway, she heard the shower running. It was a bit early to be getting ready for a nine o’clock show, the one she and Larry usually took in every Friday night, but maybe he’d decided to take her to a real restaurant for a change and not one of those tasteless fast-food places. She was sick of eating generic seafood every Friday night. The Boston Sea Party was far more to her liking, and that’s where she prayed they were going.

Regina walked into the master bedroom, kicked off her navy blue pumps, slipped out of the navy blue crepe suit and carefully removed her panty hose by Christian Dior. Yesterday, before the clock in her office had barely struck noon, she’d torn a gigantic run in the ones she’d been wearing, and she was planning to get at least one or two more wears out of this pair before having to pitch them in the wastebasket. She’d known for a long time that these things were way too expensive, but as far as she was concerned, the ones they sold in some of those discount stores never seemed to cut it.

She heard the water tapering off and the shower door slide open. “Hey, hon,” Regina said, walking into the bathroom, shedding her underwear. “How was your day?”

Larry stepped out of the shower, sawing his back with a burgundy velvet bath towel. “It was okay. How was yours?”

Regina leaned over and pecked him on the lips. “It was a typical Friday, but I’m glad the weekend has finally gotten here. It was a long week.”

Larry finished drying himself off, moved in front of the double mirror, picked up his blue plastic razor, and began edging his mustache. “I know what you mean. It was a long week for me as well. I don’t know when I’ve had so many meetings and so many insurance claims to review. Oh, by the way, Ted and I are going out to his boss’s house again to play poker. Shouldn’t be gone too late, though. I hope you don’t mind.”

Where did that shit come from? He hadn’t mentioned going anywhere when she’d spoken with him at work. She’d assumed this Friday evening would be no different than any other. They would go to dinner, see a movie, and make love like two wild animals when they returned home. He had gone to play cards each of the two previous Fridays, but this once-every-week thing was a little more than she was willing to put up with, and it was starting to piss her off.

Regina placed her right hand on her hip, the way black women do when they intend to get their point across. “And what am I supposed to do sitting here all by myself on a Friday evening? This is the third week in a row. Here I am thinking you’re about to take me out to a nice restaurant, and you’re in here getting ready to hang out with Ted. We haven’t gone anywhere together in two weeks, and I’m getting sick of this.”

“We can go to the movies tomorrow. Right?”

“Do I have a choice? It sounds to me like you’ve already made your plans for the evening anyway,” she said, staring straight at him.

Larry rinsed off the razor, then his face. “Look, Regina. Ever since we started dating three years ago, I’ve pretty much spent every single Friday evening with you, so why is it such a crime for me to go play cards one night a week? I don’t see why you’re making such a big deal out of this.”

Regina was puzzled, but she had to admit that he was right. At least for the most part, because he had pretty much spent every Friday night with her since the day they’d gotten married. The only problem was, she didn’t see anything wrong with it continuing. They were married, and that was what married people did. Spend time together. Not go their separate ways like two single individuals with no ties to each other. If he wanted to hang out with his unmarried friends and play the little bachelor role, then he should have never asked her to marry him. He’d had no problem with spending all of his time with her before, and she couldn’t help but wonder what was going on now. Come to think of it, he’d been canceling their lunch dates as well, claiming he had too much work to do and then working an unusual amount of overtime in the evenings and on the weekends. Maybe he was starting to feel caught up. Maybe he needed his freedom to do whatever he wanted. Maybe he longed to be with someone else. They’d only been married two years, but hell, he was acting like he already had the seven-year itch and needed a nice, long scratch. Hmmph. Right now, she felt like giving it to him.

But Regina knew her imagination was working over
time, because with the exception of Larry leaving his clothes lying around for her to pick up, he was a good husband and a wonderful provider. She told herself he was only playing cards, and probably just wanted to do that male bonding thing that most men claimed they needed to do. Her secretary’s husband hooked up with his friends every Thursday for what he called a “guys’ night out,” so what was wrong with Larry wanting to go out every now and then with Ted? The answer was obvious: absolutely nothing. She didn’t know why she was being so silly.

“I don’t see anything wrong with you going out every now and then, but it’s just that I’ve sat at home alone for two Friday nights straight, and I’m really disappointed. I just wish you had told me earlier, so I wouldn’t have gotten my heart set on spending some time with you.”

“We’ll do something tomorrow. I promise.” He dried his face and kissed her on the forehead as he walked out of the bathroom.

Regina presented him with a bogus smile, stepped into the shower, and turned it on. The soothing, hot water running across her body felt so relaxing that she stood there for five whole minutes with no display of movement. She wished it would never end, but she could already feel the water slowly starting to cool down. There was only so much hot water available when she and Larry took long, steamy showers one right after the other.

Regina shut off the water and reached for her coral
pink bath towel. She walked out into the bedroom, dried most of her body off, and saw Larry putting on his dark olive dress pants and silk sweater. Clothing that was perfect for springtime weather, but inappropriate and too dressy if all he was going to do was play poker. Still though, as much as she hated to admit it, he was looking especially fine tonight. But then why shouldn’t he? Whether it was a business suit for work or a pair of jeans for running around on the weekend, she always got him the very best that their hard-earned money could buy. This man’s wardrobe had been a complete mess when they’d first gotten together, and it was obvious that he’d barely even heard of Marshall Field’s, Saks, or Nordstrom, let alone purchased any clothing from any one of them. Back then, he’d been the cheapest man she’d met, and to tell the truth, he still was right now.

Larry had a high-yellow complexion, almost-black hair, grayish-brown eyes, and a perfect, athletic build. He was the ideal man for Regina, her being partial to light-skinned men and all, and by far the best-looking man she’d ever laid eyes on. Simply put, the man was finer than expensive wine, and it was no wonder that when she’d first met him, there had been at least a dozen female vultures trying hard to sink their vicious claws into him and the reason she’d gone to major extremes to make sure they hadn’t come close to succeeding.

“You look nice,” Regina said, wrapping the towel around her body and securing both ends together at the point just above her breasts.

“Thanks, baby.”

Regina sat down on the side of the bed and watched him spray what must have been the last of his Cool Water cologne; just yesterday he’d asked her to pick him up a new bottle the next time she went to the mall. She crossed her legs and leaned back with both of her palms pressed against the bed. “What time will you be back?”

“Probably around nine or so. I’ll call you if it gets to be later than that, though.”

Uh-oh. She didn’t like the sound of that. Last week, it had been after eleven when he’d finally remembered where home was, and she sure hoped he wasn’t planning to stay out that late again.

Larry walked over to Regina, drew her into his arms, kissed her, and looked her straight in her caramel brown eyes. “I love you, baby, and I promise, we’ll do whatever you want tomorrow.”

“Have a good time,” Regina said. She really didn’t mean it, but she was trying to be sensible about this whole thing.

“I’ll see you when I get back,” Larry said and headed down the stairs.

Regina was about to follow him when she heard the phone ring. She answered it. “Hello?”

There was no answer.

“Hello? Hello?” Regina slammed the receiver on the hook and grunted. Nothing angered her more than when someone called and hung up. If a person had the wrong
number, the very least they could do was apologize before simply hanging up in someone’s ear.

“Who was that on the phone?” Larry yelled back up the stairs.

“Nobody important, I guess. They wouldn’t say anything.”

She heard him shut the kitchen door, and, not too long after, she heard the garage door closing. She couldn’t believe it. He had actually remembered to shut it this time. Maybe there was hope for Larry Moore yet.

A
S REGINA
reached for the remote control to switch the solid oak console TV to channel nine for the lottery results, the phone rang. She picked up the black cordless phone in the family room and pressed the Talk button. “Hello?”

No answer.

“Hello? Hello?”

There was still no response. Regina pursed her lips together, pressed the Talk button again, and slung the phone across the blue leather love seat. She was starting to get a little irritated with all of these hang-ups. They had become more and more frequent over the last month or so, and neither she nor Larry had the slightest idea who it could be. But this was finally it. She was calling Ameritech first thing Monday morning to order that Caller ID box that her best friend, Karen, had made such a fuss over and purchased just a few months ago. She had
practically begged Regina to order one, and right now, Regina could kick herself for not doing it. “You spend money on everything else. Why not this?” Karen had asked. Regina had known Karen was right, but usually when she bought things she didn’t need they were personal items like clothing, jewelry, shoes, or cosmetics—items for herself, not the general household. But now, though, this whole thing was getting out of hand, and she was starting to realize what a major relief it would be to find out who this unidentified caller was, and, more importantly, why he or she was calling in the first place.

The WGN announcer called out the Pick Four and Little Lotto numbers, and Regina jotted them down. 3-2-5-7 and 1-14-17-21-30. Whoever had made that phone call needed the crap beat out of them. Sister had missed the three digit, and nobody made her do that without hearing about it. Six months ago, Larry had yelled for her to come rinse out the relaxing cream from one of those wave curl kits he’d combed into his hair, explaining that it had been in for over twenty minutes and was slowly starting to burn his overly sensitive scalp. But Regina had ignored him and not moved one inch until the last of those lottery results had been flashed across the screen. By the time she’d made it down the stairs, Larry was trying ferociously to wash it out himself. Unfortunately for him, it was too late. Larry’s babylike scalp was on fire, and within three days, sores had scattered about his entire head. Needless to say, he’d never interrupted Regina’s Illinois lottery results again.

She reached over the left arm of the love seat, picked up her tan and evergreen shoulder bag, and pulled out the numbers she’d played at the 7-Eleven right after work. She checked the numbers twice but found that she hadn’t matched one number. The outcome was no different than any of the other times she’d played, but as usual, a look of disappointment covered her face when she realized her numbers were nowhere in the proximity of the ones that had been drawn.