He's Just A Friend (23 page)

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Authors: Mary B. Morrison

BOOK: He's Just A Friend
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CHAPTER 33
S
aVoy busied herself perfectly restocking and aligning groceries on shelves. Tyronne hadn't called since he'd left her home. It was Wednesday and her delivery was so late she considered closing early and going home but she was completely out of twenty-ounce Cokes, Vanilla Cokes, and Sprites. The new delivery guy finally arrived almost six hours late.
“What took you so long?” SaVoy questioned him before he finished unloading her order.
“Not you, too. Look, miss, I apologize. Through no fault of yours, I've had an extremely rough day and I still have three more stops. I'll be in and out as soon as possible,” he remarked, motioning for her to stand aside as he tilted his hand truck. He quickly stocked the cooler and headed toward the door. “Have a nice day, miss.”
“Hey, I apologize for snapping at you. You really
are
new, aren't you?”
“Yeah, that and my supervisor told me ‘hands off' as far as you're concerned.”
SaVoy smiled. “Really?”
“Yeah, really. You must be something special. I gotta run before he gets here.”
“Have a good evening, um . . . what's your name?”
“I'm sure you can think of something to call me other than what my mother named me, Sylvester.” He smiled, then waved. “I'm out.”
The new delivery person reminded SaVoy of Tyronne in a few ways. SaVoy locked the door, raced to her office, brushed her teeth, washed her face, and replenished her lipstick.
Whoever was banging on the door, SaVoy heard the knocking all the way in the back. She raced to the front. It was Desmond. SaVoy unlocked the door.
“Hey, I knew you were still in here. What's up?” Desmond held his arms open, waiting for a hug.
SaVoy hugged Desmond lightly, patted his back a few times, then stepped back. “What's up with you?”
“Man, why every time I drop by the store you all up on my woman?” Tyronne said, walking in the door.
“What's up, man? Don't trip. I ain't gon' take your woman.”
SaVoy casually said, “Can't.”
“Whatever, y'all trippin'. I just came by to let SaVoy know Fancy had a terrible incident. She has no insurance. She refuses to go to Highland Hospital. So she's at home doctoring on herself.”
“Oh, my gosh. Desmond, what happened?” SaVoy asked, staring at Desmond.
“Dude, old boy tried to kill Fancy for having him locked up.”
“Hell, you can't blame him for that. Why in the hell would she do something stupid like that for anyway?” Tyronne asked.
“Man, she reported his car stolen. The one he gave her and took back. Cops picked him up from his house—”
Tyronne interrupted, “You mean that crazy ho called the cops for some indignant ass bullshit. Hell, I woulda—” Tyronne shook his head.
“Y'all get out of my store,” SaVoy said with one hand on Desmond and the other on Tyronne. “I can't believe my ears. Lord, forgive them.”
“Us?” Tyronne questioned. “What'd we do?”
SaVoy couldn't believe how Desmond and Tyronne, especially Desmond, were bad-mouthing Fancy. Did they talk about her the same when she wasn't around? SaVoy drove as fast as she could to Fancy's. There were no parking spaces out front so she circled the block and parked around the corner. Fifty-five degrees. That was good November weather.
The doorman rang Fancy's phone several times but Fancy didn't answer.
“Please, I have to see her. She's sick,” SaVoy pleaded with the doorman.
“Okay, but call me from her unit when you get upstairs.”
SaVoy rang the buzzer, knocked on the door, and paced until Fancy answered, “Who is it?”
“It's me, SaVoy. Girl, let me in.”
Fancy cracked the door so SaVoy let herself in and followed Fancy to the love seat.
“Desmond told you, didn't he?”
“I came as soon as he did.” SaVoy sat next to Fancy. Fancy's neck was swollen and bandaged. “You wanna go to the hospital? I'll take you.”
“I am not going to sit up at Highland waiting until all the gang bangin' drive-byers who done got shot, stabbed, or killed, been taken care of. I can take care of myself.”
“Well, how about I take you to see my doctor in the morning and I'll pay the bill.”
Fancy's eyes watered but she didn't speak.
“You don't have to tell me or anybody else what happened except Mandy. Have you talked with her?”
Fancy shook her head.
SaVoy placed Fancy's feet in her lap and began massaging them. “ ‘Be anxious for nothing,' Fancy, ‘but in everything by prayer and supplication, with thanksgiving, let your requests be made known to God and the peace of God, which surpasses all understanding, will guard your heart and mind through Christ Jesus.' ” SaVoy softly quoted scriptures from the Bible until well after Fancy was asleep. Subliminally perhaps some of the messages would become ingrained in Fancy's mind. SaVoy went upstairs, found a pillow and blanket, curled up on the floor by Fancy, and slept.
In the morning, SaVoy was taking her best friend to her doctor. And when Sunday came, SaVoy was taking Fancy to church.
CHAPTER 34
Y
esterday, despite SaVoy's greatest efforts, Fancy was adamant and refused to go to church. SaVoy had said, “The Lord said come as you are,” but Fancy was certain He meant her heart and did not mean come with broken acrylic nails and a worn-out hair weave.
Desmond said he couldn't loan her any more money and Fancy would rather be homeless than live with SaVoy or Caroline.
Fancy parked at a meter on University Avenue. She unraveled her plastic bag, covered the meter, and headed across the street. Mandy had agreed not to charge her for the thirty-minute session.
Fancy didn't speak to the receptionist. She walked into Mandy's office, took her usual seat, and began talking. “I'm cursed.”
Mandy frowned. “My gosh. What happened to your neck?”
Fancy softly touched the remaining scabs on her neck. “Byron assaulted me.”
“What happened?” This time Mandy didn't stare over her frames.
“Well, he claimed it was because I called the police on him but I don't think that's the real reason.”
“Okay, why did you call the police? And what do you believe is the real reason?”
“I called the cops because he took my car.”
“Your car? Are you sure it was legally your car?”
“He gave it to me so that made it mine. You don't just give someone a car, then take it back.”
“Maybe part of that is true but, Fancy, can't you see? When Harry raped you, that was a crime and the appropriate time to call the police. When Byron took his car, if you felt the car was a gift, you should have taken him to court, not called the police. But when Byron assaulted you, that's when you really should have called the police.”
“What difference does it make now? It's all in the past.”
“But don't you see? Your past is your future. How you resolve this will determine how you handle future conflicts.” Mandy paused, looking at the clock. “I'll make you a list of suggestions and send them to you in the mail. How's Caroline?”
“Fine, I guess. I don't know. I have my own problems to deal with. Like how I'm going to pay my rent and bills without taking on additional sponsors.”
“How's real estate school?”
Fancy smiled. “I'm a licensed agent. Haven't sold any homes yet but I do have three listings and my license has only been listed with Kees Realty for ten days. Howard Kees says that's great for a newcomer, so I'm excited.”
Mandy smiled. “You're headed in the right direction. You can come in for thirty minutes on Thursday. I'll bill you and you can pay me later.”
“Thanks.” Fancy left Mandy's office feeling better but not much. She really wanted to get revenge on Harry and Byron.
Fancy drove by Desmond's house. His car was parked in the driveway so she parked on the street blocking his exit.
Fancy rang the doorbell. When Carlita opened the door, Fancy stepped back.
“Is Desmond here?”
“No, he's at work. But I'm glad you stopped by. Come on in.” Carlita opened the door wider.
Fancy thought about it for a minute, then walked inside. Desmond's roommates were either gone or in their rooms asleep because the house was quiet.
Fancy headed to Desmond's room. Carlita turned and said, “Have a seat in the living room. I'll be in in just a minute.”
When Carlita disappeared into the kitchen, Fancy entered Desmond's bedroom. His entire room was redecorated. Matching comforter and pillows. The new entertainment center had an eight-by-ten photo of Desmond and Carlita on the top.
“This room is off-limits to you. I said the living room.”
Fancy sat on Desmond's bed. “Desmond's bedroom is never off-limits to me. So what did you want to talk about?”
“You know, that's why no one respects you.”
“What are talking about? You don't know me.”
“True. But I know enough about you. My only advice to you is to grow up. Start acting like the beautiful queen you are and stop trying to use men. Honey, you shouldn't want a man that'll let you use him. Trust me. I know. If you're using him, then he's definitely using you. Look, I'm in love with Desmond and Desmond is in love with me, but he's infatuated with you. If you're really Desmond's friend you won't make him choose between us. You could have given him what he needed a long time ago but you weren't woman enough.”
“You—”
“Let me finish what I'm saying and then I'll listen to you. What I'm telling you, honey, is real women don't play games with men's lives or their livelihood. A man is going to be a man. You can't change him. But you can and you do set the standards for yourself and other women based upon how you treat your men. If you open your legs every time a man gives you money, then he thinks every woman can be bought. But if you have your own money, you're not in control of him but you'll never compromise your womanhood in exchange for his money. Keep your legs closed and enjoy him until you're ready to have sex. And don't have sex with him. Make love to him. Trust me, he'll know the difference.”
“So is that why you have four kids by four different daddies? Because you kept your legs closed?” Fancy said as she bounced on the bed.
“No, and that's exactly why I'm talking to you. The same way I talk to other women. If someone had talked to me maybe I wouldn't have four kids. I love my kids. I used to be a lot like you. Dating rich men for money. I get paid very well by each of my children's fathers. Some are better fathers than others. But if I had to do it all over again, I'd trade all four of those rich men for a man like Desmond. One who cares about me. If you really want to learn how to make money, call me.” Carlita reached into her purse and handed Fancy a card.
“I can handle my business. I've got three real estate listings right now.”
“I have a client who's looking to buy her first home. Call me tomorrow, and I'll give you her number.”
“You know, you're pretty and pretty cool,” Fancy said, looking at Carlita's card. “I'll do that. I'll call you tomorrow.”
Carlita must have subscribed to
Keep your friends close and your enemies closer.
Otherwise, why would she have offered to help Fancy?
“Remember, if you can't accept the man, don't accept his money.” Carlita opened the front door. She yelled as Fancy unlocked her car door, “Do your own damn thing!”
Fancy repeated, “Do your own damn thing. Yeah.” That was good advice, but Fancy was Desmond's friend whether Carlita liked it or not.
CHAPTER 35
S
aVoy sat in her car outside Tyronne's apartment. What was so urgent that he requested she come over right away? “Lord, I know you won't give me more than I can handle so I'm going in. Cover me. And thanks again for blessing Papa with the deed to the store.”
The lights were on. SaVoy placed her hand over her eyebrows.
“Woman, get in here. I have someone I want you to meet.”
SaVoy sat on the sofa. “Where is she?”
Tyronne went into the bedroom and walked into the living room carrying Tyronne, Jr. on his shoulders. “This here is the man. Say hi, TJ.”
“Hey, baby.”
“Man, that's my woman. I told you to say hi.”
“Hey, baby.”
SaVoy laughed, holding her side. “What are you teaching him?”
“Life.” Tyronne stood TJ up and said, “Go get in the bed. Nap time.”
“Tyronne, he's adorable. He's two now, right?”
“Yeah, just made two. Now I have three adorable people in my life,” Tyronne said, looking at his mother's picture.
SaVoy watched Tyronne bend on one knee. She smiled. “You are so silly. Get up.”
Tyronne reached inside his pocket, and said, “No, this time I'm serious. SaVoy Edmonds, will you marry me?” Tyronne partially opened the blue velvet box, then snapped it closed. “You don't get to see the ring until I get an answer, woman.”
SaVoy wrapped her arms around Tyronne's neck. “I love you, Tyronne. And I'd be honored to be your wife.”
“See, that's why I love you. You always have my back.” Tyronne opened the box and placed a square-shaped three-carat solitaire on SaVoy's ring finger.
“You lucked out. My old man told me a man should spend one month's salary on an engagement ring. And since I bought this ring after my promotion”—Tyronne held SaVoy's hand—“you got an extra grand.”
“It's beautiful, Tyronne.”
Tyronne checked on TJ and returned. “That boy snores worse than me.”
SaVoy raised her eyebrows.
“Chill out. You know I don't snore. But seriously, woman, you don't know how relieved I was to finally find somebody who cares enough to make me take an HIV test. Who cares enough to wait to have sex. Who cares enough to help me pursue my dreams. Who cares enough to call me her king.”
“That's because you are a king. Is TJ spending the night with us?”
“Naw, Lisa will be here in about an hour to get him. But you can spend the night with me.”
SaVoy eyed the Play Station remote control.
“Aw, see. Now I'mma havta spank that ass. You will not beat me again.” Tyronne stood and folded his arms high across his chest, and he was her superhero.

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