He's Just A Friend (20 page)

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Authors: Mary B. Morrison

BOOK: He's Just A Friend
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“How about I give you the beginner's package? And
if
you can hang, I'll advance you to intermediate. Next time.”
Tyronne's tongue probed inside SaVoy's vagina. He eased up to her clit and gently sucked. First the tip. Then the tip and a part of her shaft. Then he wiggled the tip of his tongue all the way up to the base of her shaft. Down again. Up again. And back to her clit. Tyronne eased up to SaVoy's breasts and gently kissed each nipple. Softly he bit, licked, and sucked one nipple, then the other. As he alternated back and forth his dick hardened. Tyronne grabbed his dick, brushing the head against SaVoy's vagina and clit over and over.
SaVoy felt the warmth of his friction and said, “Um, that feels good.” She moaned, trying to ease herself onto Tyronne's manhood.
“You think you slick, huh, woman. Now I'mma have to spank you.” Tyronne slapped his penis against SaVoy's pubic hair several times. Then he buried his face in SaVoy's crotch and showed her how much he loved her.
SaVoy whispered, “Stop.”
Tyronne kissed her lips, then eased her head under his shoulder, and stroked her hair.
SaVoy drunkenly said, “Was that really the beginner's package?”
“No, not really,” Tyronne said. “That was the amateur's package. You ain't ready, woman.” Tyronne threw his hand up and said, “You're fired! Relax, I'll be right back.”
The warm towel felt good as he gently cleaned the crevices of her lips.
Afterward Tyronne snuggled his body behind hers. Their legs alternated against the mattress, his then hers, his then hers. Tyronne hugged her waist and rested his head on the same pillow right behind hers. SaVoy had so much fun experimenting she decided she'd definitely hold on to her virginity until after she'd gotten married.
CHAPTER 25
F
ancy lay in her bed next to Desmond. She tossed and turned all night. Byron hadn't answered any of her calls. She'd phoned far more times than she'd left messages Saturday, Sunday, and Monday, telling him she was having the abortion Tuesday morning but he still didn't return her calls. When she blocked her number, he answered, “Hello,” on the first ring. When she said, “Byron, it's me, Fancy,” he said, “Grow the fuck up and stop playing games. Since you wanna play games, I have a surprise for you.” Then he hung up. She tried calling back to apologize but each call never rang, not even once—all of her calls went directly into his voice mail. Fancy had stopped calling after Desmond arrived at her place last night.
Desmond rolled over and sleepily said, “Hey, you up already? How you feel?”
“Tired. I've been up all night. Couldn't sleep.” Fancy looked over at Desmond. “I'm not sure I'm doing the right thing.” Then she sat on her side of the bed.
“You'll be okay. I'll be here for you.” Desmond reached over and massaged the small of Fancy's back.
Fancy stood up and said, “I'd better get dressed. If you want something to eat, help yourself. They told me not eat anything this morning.”
“What about water?” Desmond asked. “I can get you something to drink.”
“I can have water. No juice, though.” Fancy closed the bathroom door, sat on the toilet, and cried. She wondered if Caroline was scared and nervous before she had her first abortion. Was she being selfish? What if it was Byron's baby? What if it was Harry's or Desmond's? Why did that even matter now that another life was growing inside her? Her innocent unborn baby was getting ready to be killed because she didn't want to accept responsibility for her actions. Fancy cried in the shower. She cried while slipping into her yellow fleece suit and white jogging shoes.
Picking up her purse, she unwrapped a peppermint and grabbed a bottle of water. “Dez, let's go.” Fancy sniffled and opened the door. “If I'm late they'll cancel my appointment.”
“I'm ready. I thought you said you couldn't eat anything,” Desmond said, pressing G on the elevator panel.
Stepping into the garage, Fancy pressed the unlock button on her car remote but she didn't hear a double beep. She looked around. “Where's my car?” She peeped through the wrought iron gate onto the street. Occasionally she'd park on the street but she was certain she'd parked in the garage. “Where's my fucking car!”
“Maybe dude took his Benz back,” Desmond said, hunching his shoulders, looking at all the empty spaces.
“Byron wouldn't do that to me. He loves me.” Fancy buried her face in her palms and started crying. “Why is this happening to me?”
“Yeah, dude loves you so much he's the one going with you to the clinic.” Desmond clenched his back teeth and his jaw pulsated. “Let's take my car. You can worry about yours later.”
Fancy cried all the way to the clinic. What was she going to do without a car?
Desmond dropped her off in front of the abortion clinic. A few people with picket signs yelled at her, “Murderer!” Fancy started crying again when she looked at the lifelike baby doll lying in a tiny wooden coffin. She ran up the six steps that separated her from those maniacs, and entered the freezing-cold building.
The woman behind the counter motioned for Fancy to come closer. Handing her a clipboard the woman said, “Fill out this form,” then asked, “Did you have anything to eat?”
“No. Just a mint and some water.”
“Well, that's something,” the woman said with an attitude. “Nothing means nothing. So we're not going to be able to put you to sleep as you requested for the procedure. If you want, you can reschedule.”
Fancy thought for a minute as she watched dozens of young girls complete the same form. There were maybe about four women that appeared older. Tears formed in Fancy's eyes as she fluttered her eyelids to wash them away.
Desmond walked up to the counter and said, “I can't take off from work another day so you need to do this today or have dude come back with you.”
“Whatever. I'll just do it today,” Fancy said.
Fancy completed the paperwork and silently waited until she was called into the nurse's office. The nurse handed Fancy a cup. “Urinate just a little, then I need you to hold this under your flow for a few seconds. Then set the cup in the cubbyhole over the toilet so the lab can verify your status.”
A few minutes later Fancy was instructed to change in a small dressing room with several other patients. Each of them undressed and put on the open gown and went into a waiting area. Several of the girls were crying. Some were bragging like they were hurting the guy.
A woman wearing a white lab coat entered the room and called out, “Fancy Taylor.”
When Fancy heard her name she thought about leaving like Caroline had done with her. Somehow she found herself in a smaller room with doors on both sides. She entered from the hallway behind the woman. When Fancy looked through the other door, hospital beds were lined against the wall occupied by women who'd already had the procedure.
The nurse closed both doors. The anesthesiologist injected medication into Fancy's IV. The doctor came in. He was friendly. He turned on a vacuum and began suctioning out Fancy's insides while talking to her at the same time. Fancy cried. She was too young and too old to be so careless. Fancy promised herself that was the first and last time she'd have an abortion.
Desmond handed her a bouquet of fresh assorted flowers when she exited into the lobby. “How you feel? You all right?” he asked.
“What kind of question is that? I just killed my baby. No, I'm not all right. I'm fucked-up, Dez. They said I should stay home a couple of days but considering I don't have a job, that's easy to do.”
“Well, you know I'mma be here for you. I'm just a phone call away if you need me.”
Desmond was always there for her. He stayed the rest of the day. Went to Walgreens and filled her prescription for Vicodin. Fancy thought about her car. She couldn't buy another one. What if Byron didn't take the car? What if he did? Since she never saw the title she wasn't sure who owned the car. She could take him to court because the car was a gift. Fancy decided tomorrow morning she'd call the police and report the car stolen.
CHAPTER 26
S
aVoy knelt beside her bed and prayed. “Thank you, Jesus, for bringing Tyronne into my life. Thank You for letting Papa rent the unused space to Tyronne so Tyronne can start his business. Lord, please continue blessing Tyronne. You know his needs, Lord. Thank you, Lord, for leading Tyronne back into your house of worship. I, too, can see how much more focused he's become. And Lord, as always, I ask that you watch over Mama and Fancy and keep them safe. Amen.” SaVoy always said a prayer for Fancy but lately her friend was struggling, so SaVoy prayed a little more often. Fancy's struggle was a good one because like Tyronne and Desmond, Fancy had accepted responsibility for her own success. But Fancy still refused to admit she needed anyone's help, including God's.
SaVoy admired her lemon-colored knee-length dress in the mirror. The canary sweater Vanessa gave her was a perfect match. SaVoy tossed her purse on the bed and answered the phone.
“Good morning, my friend. How are you this beautiful Sunday morning?”
“Great.” Fancy replied. “On my way horseback riding. With Darius Jones.”
“What?
The
Darius Jones? When and where did you meet him?”
SaVoy was curious because she and Darius grew up together in Sunday school. Darius was spoiled then and he was worse now that he owned a major corporation. But after Darius's Ma Dear passed he came to church once a year, each time with his stepsister Ashlee. Rumors had spread throughout the church. Supposedly Darius and Ashlee were kinder than kin. SaVoy never repeated gossip but Darius and Ashlee did seem awfully close to be related. Fancy's luck couldn't possibly be that good or that bad. Darius was way out of Fancy's league but at least he had one thing Fancy didn't. Religion.
“Girl, I'm just kidding. I wish I could get in touch with his rich fine ass. You sound like”—Fancy's voice lowered as she said—“you might know him.”
SaVoy did one of Fancy's numbers and ignored her inquiry. “Tyronne's going to church with me again this morning. You wanna go?”
“I called because I wanted to know if I could borrow your car or if you would pick me up after class again this week.”
SaVoy felt blessed supporting Fancy getting her real estate license. Although she could have told Fancy to catch the bus home, picking Fancy up every Wednesday gave them time to bond. The more SaVoy listened to Fancy the more she understood her. Although she wouldn't admit it, Fancy's ways were a lot like Caroline's and Fancy was simply living what she had witnessed most of her life.
“Of course I'll pick you up.”
SaVoy didn't want to start any bad habits that might jeopardize their friendship. She knew Fancy couldn't afford to pay her deductible so SaVoy certainly wouldn't risk Fancy wrecking her car—her only source of transportation.
“Thanks, girl. I gotta go. Steven is here.”
“I thought you changed your number to get rid of Steven months ago.”
“Girl, sponsorships are scarce these days.” Fancy laughed, then hung up the phone.
Fancy should've come to church because Darius's brother Darryl, who was better looking and had a slightly smaller ego than Darius, was visiting. Darius had named Darryl vice president and COO of Somebody's Gotta Be On Top, making Darryl a very wealthy man.
“ ‘Love thy neighbor as thyself . . .' ” Pastor Tellings preached.
Pastor Tellings's sermons got shorter each passing year but the congregation loved him so they wanted him to deliver the message every Sunday morning. Instead, Pastor agreed to preach only on the first Sunday.
After service Tyronne said, “So you wanna go to Bible study for singles on Wednesday?”
SaVoy smiled and said, “Have I created a Holy Ghost?” “Naw, you just helped a brotha return to his roots. That, and I wanna do right by you. I love you, woman. And since I'm gonna be a biznessman”—Tyronne tugged on his collar—“I need a strong black woman by my side.”
“I'd like that, but—”
“But what?”
“Give me a minute. Wednesdays I pick Fancy up from school. So that means we'll have to meet at the church so I can pick her up on time. Or you can ride with me.”
Tyronne responded, “That's easy.”
SaVoy and Tyronne looked one another in the eyes and spoke in unison, “Separate cars.”
CHAPTER 27
T
his time, instead of parking her car on University Avenue, Fancy exited the bus and waited for the light to change. She had to figure out a way to get another car because the caliber of men she liked were not bus drivers or bus riders.
SaVoy could have loaned Fancy her car. It was not as though she had someplace to go other than the store. Or over to Tyronne's—and he drove whenever SaVoy was with him. What was taking the light so long to change? Two Mercedes rolled by. Each driver flirted with her. Fancy ignored the first one. Broken-down Benz. Older than her mama. And the guy was butt ugly. Honestly, he didn't think she'd be interested in him? The second sports coupe was the same make and model as the one she used to have. Fancy leaned over. She lifted her eyebrows without cracking a smile. The man driving had on construction overalls and a wedding band. The last thing Fancy wanted was another Adam. What would she look like, sitting in his ride, a single woman with her Venice designer halter, matching black leather pants, and full-length coat? As soon as the walk signal flashed, Fancy strutted across the street and pranced into Mandy's office.
“She's waiting for you, Fancy,” Mandy's assistant said. “Go on in, Ms. Diva.”
Mandy was scribbling notes. Perhaps from her last session or maybe in preparation for her talk with Fancy.
“You look nice, Fancy. You can hang up your coat and have a seat.” Mandy jotted a few more notes.
“I feel salty,” Fancy said, sitting in her usual place.
“Salty?” Mandy frowned, then asked, “Why?”
“Whew! Let's see,” Fancy said, nervously rubbing her hands back and forth along her thighs. The leather felt baby smooth. “I followed through with the abortion. Byron took back the car he gave me so I reported the car stolen. I don't have a job. And I'm tired of borrowing money from Desmond and SaVoy.”
Mandy nodded but Fancy couldn't tell if Mandy agreed with her or if she was simply acknowledging her statements.
Fancy continued. “But I'm actually enjoying real estate school. I'mma get my own properties. I'll show them. I don't need no man to take care of me.”
“Did you ever find out who was the father?”
Fancy snapped. “What difference does that make? Desmond was the only one willing to take me to the clinic.”
“How is Desmond?”
“What? Not today, please. This is about me. Don't waste my dime bringing up my past.” Fancy breathed heavily.
Mandy shook her head. “You don't know a good thing when you have it, do you? Did you really want a baby? Or did you want bargaining power?”
“Bargaining power. Now. There. Are you satisfied? I wanted bargaining power.” Fancy threw her hands up in disgust.
“Whoa, settle down. Are you looking for a job?”
“The next person I work for is going to be me.” Fancy sat up straight. “I have a plan. I'm going to buy one of those HUD homes for a dollar, then I won't have to worry about rent. I can keep Steven and get a few new sponsors and keep on buying more houses until I'm rich. I don't know why I didn't think about this sooner.”
“I hope you have a plan B because HUD doesn't sell one-dollar homes to the public. Those homes are sold to other government agencies. How's—”
“Yes, they do.” Fancy twisted her neck.
“How's Caroline?”
Fancy stood and said, “If I leave now, can I get a refund?”
Mandy laughed. “Of course not. So I take it you haven't spoken with your mother. How about we invite Caroline to the next session? If you agree, I'll call her. You don't have to answer now. Just think about it.”
“Whateva. Whateva. Do what you want. I gotta go.” Fancy slipped on her coat and left Mandy's office fifteen minutes early.
Fancy rode the bus home. When she arrived a late notice was posted on her door where everyone could see. That bitch! It was only the sixth of the month and barely noon. Fancy snatched the paper, walked in her apartment, and slammed the door. She removed her black leather boots.
Fancy undressed and lay across her comforter. Life had to get better. Fancy hesitated on answering her phone.
“Hello.”
“Hey, what's up? I snuck into my boss's office so I could check on you.”
“I need a place to stay if I don't come up with two thousand dollars soon.”
“What?” Desmond said. “What's going on? You late on your rent again?”
“Duh, yes. I got a late notice today.” Fancy rolled onto her back. “Uuuhhhh.”
“Don't stress. I can give the funds. I can drop it off after work.”
“What? Man, are you serious, Dez?” Fancy sat in the middle of her bed. “I said I need two
thousand
dollars.”
“I heard you. Look I gotta go. I'll call when I'm on my way. Get some rest. Bye.” Desmond hung up the phone.
Fancy hung up and swung around on her dancing pole. She did the cha-cha-cha on her balcony. Where was Desmond getting that kind of money? Who cared? Fancy had been spared one of her nine lives once again.

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