Fool and Her Honey (9781622860791) (15 page)

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Authors: Kimberly T. Matthews

BOOK: Fool and Her Honey (9781622860791)
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“You couldn't call me?”
“My phone was dead, babe,” he said, offering the blacked-out, nonresponsive device as proof. The job he was currently working, a car detailing gig, paid him under the table, so he dug into his pocket and pulled out a small wad of folded bills and handed them to me. “Here's some money for letting me stay with you.”
That completely caught me by surprise. Equanto would pick up a few groceries here and there or pay for dinner if we went out, but he'd never put money in my hand before. That kinda made him an official tenant, except he wasn't on my lease. And I couldn't even front. When he wasn't working, he saved me a few dollars by keeping Linwood while I worked, instead of me having to take him to day care.
“Don't worry about li'l man. He can stay here with me,” he'd said. Anybody with a kid knew that someone who was willing to keep your kid for free was a plus. Then he didn't mind cooking on top of that, although the meals were fairly simple: spaghetti, hot dogs and fries, fried chicken with boxed mashed potatoes and canned green beans. He got no complaints from me, and I found myself making excuses for his lack of employment to Candis and Dina.
“It works better for us this way, 'cause I don't have to pay child care. And he does the laundry and stuff.”
“So he's the damn woman in the relationship,” Candis observed.
“Only if you think about it in terms of traditional gender roles, but this is not the nineteen fifties anymore,” I argued, defending myself.
“Well, get his ass an apron, then,” Candis replied.
“It's just what works for us.”
“But the Bible says a man who doesn't work doesn't eat.” Dina was always trying to put a church spin on stuff, but I had an answer.
“It also says in Proverbs thirty-one, which is supposed to be about the perfect woman or something like that, that she goes to work and makes her man proud of her.”
“When have you ever read that!” Dina exclaimed. “I gotta Bible right here in my purse.”
“Turn to it.” I challenged. She did, and after reading all that stuff that the woman did, spinning wool and planting vineyards and selling linen and whatnot, there wasn't a whole lot she could say about me working.
“But you ain't married to him,” Candis shot back. She always had something negative to say. “It would be one thing if he was your husband, but ain't no way in the world I would carry a grown-ass man on my back.”
Now, there wasn't a whole lot I could say about that. Regardless, what did my stupid ass do? Shortly after that conversation with the girls, I proposed to him after we'd finished making love.
“E, I'm not comfortable living like this,” I said.
“Like what, baby?” He was still lying on me, breathing softly in my ear.
“You living here, lying up in my bed every night, and we're not married. Especially in front of my son.”
“So what're you saying? You want me to get out your house?”
“No. I want to get married.”
Equanto grunted, “I don't know about all that.” He lifted his weight and slid to his side of the bed.
“Why not?”
“'Cause.”
I waited for him to say more, but nothing else followed.
“Because what? We're already living like we're married. I need to put the right kind of relationship example in front of my son . . . and I love you.”
Even if he was still going to say no to marriage right now, I did expect him to say that he loved me too. He didn't say it.
“I don't know about all that, Celeste.” He turned his back to me and dozed off, while I lay there disappointed, hurt, and spilling tears on my pillow.
It seemed like things just really went downhill from there. I was used to him not keeping a job and being home most of the time, but it started to turn into extreme laziness, and I got impatient and angry. I'd come home from work, and he'd be sitting on my couch with the damn Wii remote in his hand, playing some stupid game, telling me what level he'd made it to and some new cheat code he'd discovered. On top of that, the house looked like a hurricane had come through, even though I'd straighten up every night, before I went to bed. Our bed wouldn't be made, and no kind of meal had been cooked. My baby was surviving off what I called the C food group—cereal, crackers, cheese puffs, chips, cookies, and Coolie drinks, all of which he could get for himself. Coming home to a lazy unemployed man was like getting off of one job and going straight to another. Except the one at home was twice as hard.
“You gonna have to go, Equanto,” I asserted one day, when I'd just reached my limit, coming home to find three other men in my house, around my baby, drinking beer and playing dominoes.
“Why? Go where?”
“I don't care where you go, but you gonna have to get outta my house.”
“Oh, so now it's your house by yourself?”
“Hell, yeah! You don't pay rent or nothing else around here!”
“Yeah, but I do other stuff,” he argued.
“Like what?” With my hands planted on my hips, I looked around the room. The trash hadn't been taken out, dishes were in the sink, which was a mystery, because nothing had been cooked. And beer cans were strewn on the floor, and the house smelled like stank feet, sweaty underarms, and musty balls.
“I keep Linwood for you, and I cook and stuff sometimes.”
“That ain't cutting it no more, E. You gonna have to get a job or get out my house.”
“Well, you gonna have to take Linwood to day care so I can go fill out some applications.”
“That ain't no problem!” I snapped, but actually it was. I had long withdrawn him from the center he'd been enrolled in, comfortable to some degree with him staying home with Equanto. I'd have to call them to see if they had room and then reregister him if they did. If not, I'd have to go day-care shopping, which was time consuming. Not to mention, the expense that I'd gotten used to not having to pay. Oh well. I was doing things on my own before I met Equanto, and I could sure as hell carry on without him now.
By the time we went to bed that night, he had calmed down and wanted to talk.
“Baby, I am gonna look for a job tomorrow, but don't put me out of your and li'l man's lives. I know I can do better, but y'all like my family now. He's like my son.”
“And what am I like, since you don't want to get married? Am I like your wife, or am I like your ‘something to do till something better comes along?'”
“You know it ain't even like that.”
“What I do know is, you don't love me, you don't want to marry me, you can't keep a job, you're not contributing anything to this household, and now you're letting your friends come up in here and sit on my furniture, watch my TV, eat up my food, inhale my air-conditioning, and run up my electric bill. And I'm supposed to be okay with that? You must be out of your mind!”
“I didn't think it was gonna bother you like that, babe.”
“Whatever, E.”
“And I been thinking about what you said about us living like we married and stuff, but I was raised in church and I know it ain't right. I was gonna ask you to marry me, but I was too ashamed, because I didn't have a ring to give you.”
What? I was at a loss for words.
“I do love you, babe. I'm just trying to get myself together so I can be the man I need to be for you.”
He said some more stuff that was pleasing to my ears, and in no time the panties were off and the legs were spread. Before the month was out, we went down to the justice of the peace and tied the knot, even though he was still unemployed, unmotivated, and
un
everything else that I wanted my husband to be. Including unloving.
My life had been hell on earth ever since, and Candis knew it. So why in the world would she want to jump up and marry a dude she met on freaking Facebook?
Chapter 24
Dina
As soon as Celeste closed the door behind Candis, we started up. “Do you think she's serious?” I asked with my brows lifted so high, it made my head hurt.
Celeste just stood at the door, one hand still on the doorknob and the other on her hip. “I sure hope not.”
“I don't know, Celeste.” I forked more lasagna in my mouth. “If she is, what are we going to do?”
“What can we do? Hopefully, that man will show his ass before this gets out of hand. Candis is too old to be acting this stupid.”
“It's already out of hand if she is talking about marrying him,” I replied, throwing up a hand and letting it come down on the table. “Don't you think so?”
“Kind of, but not really. With that bubble gum ring she got, maybe it's just a pretend engagement. You know, wishful thinking, a promise ring.” Celeste meandered back to the living room, grabbed the remote from her coffee table, and took a seat. “He hasn't put a real ring on it.”
“Did you hear her say he mailed her the ring?”
“Mailed it?” Celeste jerked her head toward me so fast, it was a miracle her neck didn't snap.
“She said he didn't have the money to come out here, but he didn't want her walking around with nothing on her hand, so he mailed it.”
Celeste shook her head. “That doesn't even make good sense.”
“Nothing about this whole thing makes any sense at all. I can't believe she is being so desperate. She needs to take her time and spend some time with him in person, not online.”
“I know, right?”
“But, look, what are you going to say when she asks you to be in the wedding? Because you know she's going to ask,” I said. We were Candis's best friends, so I was sure she'd be asking us to be bridesmaids.
“They probably won't have a wedding. I can't see them having one. It will probably be a justice of the peace thing like E and I did, if that.”
“Are they planning on living here, or is she going to go out there?”
“She said she's moving to Baltimore,” Celeste replied. “If she knows like I know, she better stay here, where she can get to some help if she needs it.”
“I know that's right. You know how abusers do. They isolate you first, then go to whippin' your ass!” We both paused, pensive.
“She's going to snap to her senses,” Celeste finally said, but she didn't really look like she believed what she'd said.
“Marriage is hard enough all by itself without adding all this extra drama to it. Trust me—”
“Wait a minute,” Celeste interrupted. “He didn't have the money to fly out here and propose like a real man?”
“Nope.”
“So if he ain't got the money for a plane ticket, how in the world he got the money to take care of a wife?”
“Exactly. That's what I was thinking. She'd be a fool to marry a broke-ass man, then move all the way across the country to live with him,” I shot.
“Well, you can't live anyone's life but your own. I just hope he don't kill her,” Celeste observed.
“We need to do something to talk her out of this mess.”
“Something like what?”
“What happened with her and Hamilton? Maybe we need to try to hook them up again,” I suggested.
“I don't think they ever kicked things off. The chemistry wasn't there.” Celeste twisted a finger into her hair, pulled on the coil and let it spring back toward her head. “Well, I take that back. She gave him some of her hot chocolate, and he went on about his business.”
“What about Russell?”
“Engaged Russell?” Celeste asked. “She just told us she dissed him.”
“That's just for now. You know she loves him. We're gonna have to try to hook them up again.”
“Yeah, right. And Candis would be mad at us for the rest of our lives,” she said, pulling on more strands of hair.
“So? At least she'd still have a life to be mad about. It's worth a try. You know how sex with the ex can be. It might be just the thing she needs to come to her senses.”
“Sex? See, you're going too far. Do you think his fiancée is going to agree to all that, just to keep Candis from marrying some pervert? She better be glad she doesn't have any kids, because he's probably a pedophile.” Celeste stretched her eyes to emphasize her point. “But still it's not our place to try to control her relationship or mess up Russell's engagement. I'm still trippin' off the part that he mailed her the ring instead of coming to meet her. What kind of mess is that? Who ever heard of mailing somebody an engagement ring?”
Really Celeste couldn't talk, because Equanto hadn't put so much as a rubber band around her finger.
“Where did she say he worked at again?” I twisted my own engagement ring around my finger. “At a gas station, right?”
“Yeah, pumping gas and washing windows. He doesn't even have a good job. I don't mean no harm, but Candis needs some help.”
“She need something!” I agreed with her.
“She needs to take it from me. Starting off on the wrong foot is not fun. She better learn how to appreciate her singleness and stay single,” Celeste threw in, thinking about her own godforsaken marriage.
“We're never satisfied with where we are, because the grass always looks greener on the other side.” I shook my head. “You know every single person wants someone to cuddle up with at night.”
“Yeah and every married person is wondering what the hell were they thinking when they got married in the first place.”
“Can't live with 'em, can't live without 'em.”
“You got that right. I'd trade places with Candis in a minute to be single again.” Celeste paused for a few seconds but decided to switch the subject before she fell into a depression behind Equanto and his drama. “So what's going on with you and Bertrand?”
“Please don't even get me started, Celeste. I'm trying to enjoy my evening.”
Celeste was shocked to hear me respond that way. To her, Bertrand and I made the perfect couple, despite typical ups and downs.
“I'm just asking. I know you said y'all were going through a little something, but I didn't know it was like that.”
“It's not just a little something.” I shook my head and looked away. “I'm just about ready to break our engagement,” I added, looking like I had a hard time forming the words and letting them leave my mouth.
“Girl, stop lying.”
“I'm serious. I can't keep living my life being miserable, and I don't see how it's going to work out between us. I tried to get him to go to premarital counseling, and we went to one session and he quit. Didn't want to go anymore. I try talking to him, but he doesn't want to talk, so what am I supposed to do?”
“You're supposed to try to work it out.”
“I've tried to work it out. I don't know what else I can do, and I'm tired of letting him ride my body but not work on our relationship, while I wash his nasty drawers, cook dinner, and keep the house clean. That's why he ain't got no coochie in almost two months now.”
“Two months!” Celeste gasped.
“Yep. Two months.”
“Dina, you know you can't put that man on sex restriction like that and think things are going to get better.”
“Why can't I? Explain to me how it's right for him to get what he wants, pussy on demand, and I get nothing but hurt feelings. How exactly does that work?” My voice escalated, as my anger grew.
“Oh snap! You're mad for real huh?” Celeste paused and grinned while I silently scowled. “You didn't say kitty kat, Tootsie Pop or goody box like you normally say; you said pussy! You shonuff mad!” she chortled.
She was right, I was completely fed up. “But you have to know you're playing a dangerous game by not fulfilling that very important part of your duties.”
“We aren't married, so I don't have any duties,” I argued. “And even when I was fulfilling them, he snuck out here and decided to screw around.”
“Did anything come out of the counseling?”
“I just told you, we only went to one session. Nothing came out of that except how much of a liar he is, sitting in there, acting like he was clueless as to why we were there, wouldn't admit any fault, just sitting there, looking dumb in the face. That's such an insult.”
“So what did the counselor say?”
“What could he say when nothing of substance was being said? I expressed what my issues were—that I thought he was a controlling cheater—and Bertrand didn't say much of anything, even when the counselor posed questions.”
“I know he just didn't sit in there and just stare at the man,” Celeste replied.
“He might as well have, for all he said. ‘I've not done anything wrong. Dina believes what she wants to believe, '” I said, trying to mock Bertrand's voice. “I just can't do it, girl. The towel is in my hand and ready to be thrown in. I mean, we're not married, so why struggle with something I don't have to deal with at all? We've not made any solid commitments or taken any vows. As a matter of fact, all I'm doing is living in sin. Why should I sit up here and risk going to hell for a shabby, ragtag relationship?”
Celeste sighed. “Just make sure that you think things through before you make any decisions.”
“I have thought things through.”
“Have you told Bertrand that you want to end things?”
“Yeah I have.” I dropped my head like I was scared or ashamed.
“So why haven't you moved on if that's what you want to do?” Celeste challenged.
“I don't know, and there are some parts of me that are uncomfortable with that. I think some of it is fear.”
“So in other words, you haven't made up your mind about what you want.”
“I guess not,” I said, sulking.
“You know that's not fair to Bertrand.”
“I'm not concerned about what's fair to him right now. What he did wasn't fair to me. What he did didn't consider me, regard me, honor me, or respect me,” I said almost growling.
“So is it your plan to just try to make him miserable?”
“Am I supposed to be miserable just so he can be happy? Is that what you're suggesting, Celeste?” I questioned with an attitude.
“No, I'm not saying that. I'm just saying, nobody is perfect. You are going to have to deal with something no matter who you choose to be involved with, and I really don't think Bertrand is all that bad. He's a good man.”
“Good in what way?” I rolled my eyes.
“Hell! In what way is he
not
good? So what if he wants to hear from you all day and all that jazz? That mess is petty. He keeps a job and pays the bills. And all you gotta do is give him some extra attention. I'd trade Equanto for Bertand any day and do whatever he asked me to do. Cook, clean, drop it like it's hot, let him know where I'm at twenty-four hours a day. Girl, you are seriously trippin'.”
“You're forgetting about how he cheated on me.”
“So he made a mistake.” Celeste shrugged. “It was one time. We all make mistakes. Forgive him, let it go, and move on.”
“It's not that easy, Celeste. I don't know that it was one time. As far as I know, it could still be going on.”
“Girl, please. I'd marry that man so quick, and if I found out he was cheating on me, he'd
really
be taking care of me, 'cause I'd divorce his ass, take half his stuff, and collect alimony.”
“Not everybody wants to willingly put themselves through potential heartbreak,” I noted.
“And obviously, not everybody recognizes a good man when he's right in the palm of her hand.”

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