Authors: Braya Spice

Dear Drama (20 page)

BOOK: Dear Drama

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Chapter 26

They say that you never really know a person and that time doesn't make a friend. Some people even say that there are always signs that something is bound not to work out. That was all true sometimes, but usually it was not so simple. My logic was, number one, a person showed you what they wanted you to see, and number two, some people just changed over time. So you didn't always have an indication as to how things were gonna turn out till they actually turned out. You couldn't meet a man and determine if he was gonna be the greatest love of your lifetime or if he was gonna be the greatest mistake you ever made. Gamble, gamble, gamble that was what love was. And most of all, you couldn't control the motives or actions of others. But when it was revealed ...Those motives, those actions ... Then what?

I had to understand this and become better acquainted with this notion. I couldn't change the men of my past. I could change only myself and what I accepted. I cried and cried and didn't want to get out of bed, but in the end, I had reasons to wake up in the morning, and they included Sierra. So I had to clean my face off. I didn't look at Sierra as an obligation. She was a blessing, and my responsibility was ultimately to her. No matter how hard James's betrayal was to face, I had to face it, grieve, and move on from the whole situation. I had no other choice in dealing with the matter.

The last thing I remembered about that day was James's brother, Omar, walking to the car and handing me the itinerary for James's wedding. I saw a picture of James and a woman. It was the chick who was in his car that day. Maybe she had the bomb. Who knows? For a second I thought maybe she had something over me. But I knew better than to second-guess myself given who James chose to deal with. I still had to love myself in spite of all that. So I took my sister's advice and kept busy.

I didn't have my car, but I was able to do what I needed to do by bus. But a car was more convenient. I knew it was only a matter of time before I got another one. I was officially in my last year of college and was doing well in my classes. My hard work, twenty hours a week, earned me a promotion at my school. I was no longer on work study but was a regular school employee. It was only a fifty-cent raise, nothing substantial, but it made me feel good when they acknowledged all the hard work I had been putting in. Any downtime outside of Sierra, work, school, and household duties I put into working out at home. When Sierra went to sleep, I put my iPod on full blast and danced until I sweat. I started getting compliments from people at work and in my classes, and even from random men on the street.

“You looking good, girl!”

I blushed at some dude who was driving by in a shiny blue Caprice Sierra. Sierra and I crossed the street to our home. I had on a pair of jeans and a tank top. I was whipping my body into shape. It was amazing what two months of working out could do to a sista.

He was fine. But, hey, I wasn't ready. I knew I need to take a break and stop jumping from one man to the next out of loneliness. I needed to chill on that.

“Thanks,” I told him, acknowledging his compliment when I saw he had stopped his car.

He smiled at me, hesitated, then drove away.

I was glad that he did. I didn't need nothing else to get over. Not now.

When Sierra and I were both inside the gate, I went to my mailbox. Etta was chilling on my stoop, puffing on a cigarette.

“Hey, Etta,” I said.

“Hey, girl. Hey, baby.” When Sierra made it to our steps, Etta gave Sierra's bottom a pat.

“Hi,” Sierra chirped.

“Tired?” I asked, shuffling through the mail I'd retrieved from my mailbox.

“Girl, yes. These white folks gonna kill me one day.”

I laughed. “Rest as long as you want. I got some water and juice in here if you want it.”

“All right, babe.”

I walked past her, unlocked the door, ushered Sierra out of my way, and checked my voice mail. I dialed the number and put in my pass code.

“Mommy, I'm hungry.”

“Okay, just a sec, Si.”

I cradled the phone to my ear and searched in the fridge for something to feed her. I didn't have time to really cook, because I had a final to study for. “What do you want, Ma? A corn dog or a potpie?”

She put her hand to her little face, like she watched me do when I was thinking. I chuckled and shook my head.

“Umm, potpie,” she said.

“You have two new messages,” the automated voice said.

I popped the potpie into the microwave, set it at five minutes, and pressed ONE on the phone to hear the first message.

“First message, sent at six forty-five
P.M.”

“Bitch, where the fuck are you? Lose a few pounds and lose your mind, but you ain't as fine as me.”

I love you, too, Creole,
I thought and erased the message.

Sierra sat down at the table, fork in hand.

“You're really hungry, aren't you?”

“Yep.”

“Okay,” I said, smiling. “It will be done in five minutes.”

“'Kay. Mommy.”

I listened to the next message. “Sent at six fifty-nine p.m.”

“Hey, it's me. I know you don't want to hear from me, but I wanted to tell you how sorry I am for the pain I know I've caused you. I shouldn't have come to you that day, Allure, but I couldn't stay away. You have something that I can't get out of my system. And I know this doesn't make a difference, but, baby, I do care about you. I love you, Allure. I was just calling to say I'm sorry, baby. I never meant to hurt you.” The line beeped while he was still talking.

It was James.

I played the message over.

And over.

I would have played it again if I didn't hear, “Mommy, Mommy.”

“Huh?”

“My food's done.”

I took the potpie out of the microwave and laid it on the counter to cool, feeling perplexed, not knowing what to say....

I got two more disturbing calls at work the next day, when all I wanted to do was watch these people's kids so I could go home to mine. One was from Greg. Greg tried out his new role of a person who had changed and wanted me back, and said that he had gotten baptized and had prayed that God would reunite us and God always answered prayers and blah, blah, fucking blah. But the annoyance in my voice told him I wasn't trying to hear it. The next phone call was from James.

“This is Allure.”

Silence.

“This is Allure,” I repeated.

“Hi.”

I froze. “Who is this?”

“It's James.”

I greeted him with silence, which lasted ten seconds before I huffed out hatefully, “Why are you calling me?” I knew I should have hung up on James, like I had on Greg. But truthfully, I wanted to hear what he had to say. I needed to understand why he did me the way that he had.

“Did you get my message?”

“Yes, I did.”

“Well, what do you think?”

“Look, James, I don't have time for this, and I really don't know why you're calling me. You have a wife, remember? Someone you loved enough to marry.”

“No, I love you.”

“What?”

“Baby, I'm sorry. I didn't know things were going to be this way. I can't stop thinking about you. I didn't know things were going to end up like this.”

I breathed deeply into the phone.
He loves me, but he married someone else?
I thought.

“Baby, I'm so sorry.”

“James, please.”

“Baby, let me make this right. Let's meet so we can talk.”

“No!”

“Allure, please, just over lunch. I can't move forward until I make this right with you, baby,” he pleaded.

“James, I don't think I should see you.”

“Just lunch. I promise. We can meet somewhere, talk, and then I'll leave you alone. Allure, I swear to God.”

Truth was, I wanted to hear what he had to say. Maybe hear an apology and an explanation. That would take the anger away, so I could get over him fully, forgive him. Forgiving really was not so much about, “Okay, I forgive you for doing bad.” It was more about letting go of the hope that things could be different than they were. I needed to do that with James.

“All right, all right, but lunch and that's it.”

“Okay, you name when and where.”

“Tony's on the Pier. Saturday. At one p.m.”

“I'll be there, baby.”

Chapter 27

I borrowed my sister's truck to go see James. When I made it to the restaurant, James was already seated and looking at a menu. I watched him for a couple of seconds before making my way over to him. He smiled and stood to his feet. When he tried to embrace me, I took a step back.

Embarrassed, he said, “Let me get your chair for you, baby.”

“Thank you.”

He eyed me up and down as I lowered myself to my seat.

“You look nice. I never saw you wear that dress before.”

I gave him a cold stare. Then I looked down at my black dress and pumps. The dress was short sleeved, tight fitting, and I was wearing the hell out of it. Thanks to my nightly workouts, my waist had gone in, my booty was poking out, and my calves were banging. I had my little Jeremiah to thank for my rump. I had James drooling. He wouldn't stop his eyes from flickering down my body. Maybe he couldn't.
Humph. Humph. Humph.

“Thanks. It was a gift from my sister. She bought it for me, hoping it would make me feel better.”

Stupidly he asked, “Better about what?”

“You leaving,” I replied sharply. “Coming back, making passionate love to me, promising to come back to me, leaving, not coming back, and then, without informing me, getting married.”

He took a sharp intake of breath and looked down. “Man ... I deserve that.”

“Yeah
,
you
really
do.”

There was silence as we looked at our menus. While I looked at mine, I could feel James studying me.

James broke the silence by saying, “I ordered you a pink lemonade, baby.”

I ignored the comment and continued to look at my menu.

A few minutes later the waitress, a friendly blond girl, came to our table. “Hello. I'm Rachel. I'll be your server. Would you guys like to order now?”

Without hesitation James said, “Steak, well done, and a loaded baked potato.”

She jotted it down. “Okay, and for you, miss?”

Without even glancing at the menu, I said, “The filet mignon, with a side of jumbo shrimp, a Caesar salad, and two petite lobster tails. Oh, and a side of crab legs.”

James didn't even so much as glance my way for ordering all that foodâwhich I had no intention of eating, but since it was the last time he would be able to take me out to eat, I was going to make his ass come out the pocket. However, the waitress did.

I gave her a sharp look that faded her shocked expression. “Problem, Rachel?”

She smiled and gushed out, “No, no, I'll go put in your order.” She collected the menus and walked back to the kitchen.

Once she was gone, James turned back to me. “It's so good to see you, Allure.”

He tried to touch my hand, which lay flat on the table, but I pulled it away and clasped both my hands on my lap.

He looked hurt at my coldness and said, “I know you're mad at me. But you gotta understand that I didn't want things to be this way? I wanted to be with you. I still want to.”

“You have a wife now, dum-dum!”

I looked pointedly at the shiny ring that glistened on his left hand. What was wrong with him? Did he forget that he had made a vow before God? Now it appeared he was trying to break the shit.

“But she's not the one I want.”

What? No!
I wasn't going to fall for that, so I kept my poker face.

“Look, she was pregnant. That's why I married her. I didn't want to do her dirty.”

He got me with that one. The pain made me unable to swallow for a second. But I tried to stay strong. I didn't want him to see me break down. “So was I,” I whispered. “I gave you a child. It didn't stop you from doing me dirty.”

“Yeah, well, he's dead. Get over him.”

Low.

“How the fuck could you?” That was what my look said. Then the callous mention of our son caused tears to spill from my eyes.

“No, I didn't mean that. Listen. She started out as a sidepiece. She knew her position, and she was with it. Then I realized she was better for me. We're on the same level, she has no kids, no baggage from a past relationship, and she is already established. She has her own place, and it's not in the
hood.
She has a house. She comes from a good family. She's been finely bred. She's a Zeta, has her master's and whatnot and ...” He coughed. Then he looked down at the table. He took a sip of his water.

He'd avoided my eyes while he said what he said. He'd made it seem like it was my fault he made the decisions he made. Why did he continue to hurt me? It would have been better if he had just plain out said, “I love her. I never loved you.”

I wanted to say, “Yeah, she's fucking fabulous, but the bitch knew you had a woman and she was content with you giving her head in your truck?”

“What the fuck does this have to do with how you did me?” I said instead.

His lips popped out. He looked irritated. “I'm trying to say sorry. Why can't you just ... just ...”

“Just what?”

“Stop being bitter, Allure.”

“I'm not bitter I'm hurt, and I'm tired. Tired of men like you who dump their issues on women like me.”

“Yeah, and what kind of woman are you, Allure?”

“A damn good fucking one with a lot of potential, even if you didn't see it. One who can go through shit and hurt so much, where it feel like I've died, like I've lost a piece of who I am as a woman. And even after all of this, I still find a reason to wake up and smile. I'm somebody that loves so damn hard and so damn good. Ain't shit about me watered down. You got the best I had. And men like you wanna rob me of that best, which should be reserved for a man worthy of it.

“You pretend to be that man. Then, when he do come, I ain't got nothing to give him, because by the time I get to him, sorry-ass men like you have drained me. I tell you, it fucks me up because you don't want to share with me that you don't wanna do right. So you pretend to do right, while all along, behind my back, you doing me so wrong. Like I asked you to be there. I didn't. And finally, I'm tired of men like you who come into my life, reserve your spot in my baby's heart, and walk out of it, and it's so fucking easy. Like this thing ... life is all about you and don't nobody else matter.”

I got closer to his face. “You came in my life, and you fought for me. Said you would never play me like other men would. You ended up hurting me more than anyone could. I gave you what you wanted, and I never half stepped. I didn't come with the problems I could have come with, James. I loved you, really loved you. When I told you I was pregnant, you was cool on me. Fine. I went on. Then here you come again. But you still had no real intent to do right. If you did, you wouldn't have been fucking around.

“Then I take you back, and when we needed each other the most, you bounced. You pop back up, fuck me, and leave. And if that's not enough, you slap me in the face by getting married and explaining how she is more of a woman for you and how I'm not! Bullshit. You don't want me, cool. But don't come back, make promises, and leave me again. You don't love me, cool, but don't you dare sit in my face and hold me responsible for that! Try to make me feel like I'm lacking something, 'cause you ain't shit and 'cause you lack a conscience and fucking humility.”

He placed one of his hands in the air. “Okay, you're right, Allure. I know I fucked up. And I know what kind of woman you are. I know you're a good woman baby. But I really thought I didn't want to be with you. I popped back up to tell you I was getting married. And truth be told, I realized in that moment, standing in your living room, that you were the one I loved, not her, and that I craved for time to rewind and that day I treated you the way I did that I had did things differently, held you, comforted you, and made love to you again. Went to sleep in your arms, then woke up, fed Sierra, went on to work, and looked forward to being in your arms when I came home. But it was too late, and I couldn't do shit about it but make love to you and marry my fiancÃ©e.

“Somewhere along the way the wrong things became important to me. So my mind was already made up. But in that moment, staring at you in that robe, seeing that look you had in your eyes, the way you used to stare at me, Allure, like I was a king, same with Sierra ... Being around you two ... baby, it was different than with any other woman. I always felt like I was important. Doing simple shit, like dumping the trash, you were always gracious, appreciated me. If I brought Sierra a lollipop, you would have thought I delivered a fucking pony on your doorstep.”

He went on. “And, shit, I felt powerful with you, like a real man. You let me lead, and you respected the decisions I made. You let me have it however I wanted it whenever I wanted it. You made a point to please me. You engaged with me. Listened to all the bullshit I talked like you were really interested. You wanted me there. I felt like I had a real woman that would do anything for me and would always be loyal to me.

“Jeremiah's death crushed me. I wouldn't grieve. Instead, I filled myself up with anger and took it out on you, when, baby, I know you were hurting just as much as I was. And even in your pain you tried to help me get past mine. How could I not have loved a woman like you? That's how you used to make me feel, and when I went back that day to see you, you still had that look, still after all I had done. It showed me you could love me again ... showed me you still loved me. She and I ... . it doesn't feel like it feels when it's you and me together.”

The stuff he was saying was crushing me. Because he did love me, and if he had done some things different, we would still be together. And he had completely ruined the chance of mending our relationship by marrying her. He didn't have to do that!

“If you felt that way, then why didn't you call the wedding off? Why leave me with a false pretense and go off and marry someone else?”

“At the time I thought it was the right thing to do because she was pregnant.”

“Okay. So you have a wife and a baby on the way with this
better
woman, right? Then what do you want from me?” I was trying hard to look at him, but his words had me teary-eyed, so I kept my eyes closed. I loved him and I couldn't ... I couldn't have him.

“I want to see you again, baby. I can't divorce her. But I can't not have you in my life.”

No, the fuck he didn't! See me again? That was what this was about? He was trying to fuck around on his wife with me, and he thought I was going to let him? He had me fucked up. As much as I loved him and probably would always love him, I refused to be a sidepiece.

“No.” I grabbed my purse and stood to my feet.

He stood as well.

“You know what? I knew you didn't invite me here to
make things right.
I shouldn't have even agreed to meet you. After all we have shared, gone through, and all you have done to me, you want to make me a sidepiece.”

“Allure!”

“Look, you had my trust and my love. I begged you not to hurt me, to be up front, and you weren't. You came into my and Sierra's life, and you fucked it up. Now we back on track. We've moved past this and you... .” I took a deep breath. “Save this. You don't know what the fuck you want. So I'm not gonna entertain your bullshit. I have given you chance after chance, and every damn time that I do, you do some shit to hurt me.”

When I say I was crying, man, was I crying.

“Sierra and I, we deserve so much more than you. Somebody who is going to love us, honor us, protect our hearts, not continue to step on them. He will appreciate the blessing that he has. That's something you could have done, but you chose not to.”

I turned to go and was walking to the door when he chased after me and grabbed my arm snugly.

“I love you, baby. Don't end it like this.” It was like he was warning me.

BOOK: Dear Drama

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