Just Another Damn Love Story (3 page)

Kimberly’s bedroom was decked out like that of an Egyptian princess.  She loved black and gold, and she loved ancient Egyptian artifacts and artwork.  Her bed was a platform bed that rose only inches off of the floor.  On top of that flat platform, she had her memory foam mattress, clad in gold and black silk sheets, and covered with a thick gold and black comforter with hieroglyphics and pyramid motifs on it.  The bed dressing matched her curtains, as well as her black and gold artwork.  On the wall, was her other pride and joy; a sixty-five inch flat panel television.

Kimberly strolled across the floor of her apartment, into her kitchen, and fixed herself a nice hot cup of espresso.  The Miele espresso machine had been a gift from her aunt, and it turned out to be one of the best house warming gifts in the history of Western Civilization.  The stainless steel machine made the best espressos, lattes, and coffees in the world.  It really came in handy on cold winter mornings and back breaking days like today; days when she needed to simply lay back in her leather recliner and relax.

Her trip to her recliner was interrupted by the telephone.

“Hello?”  Kim said, lifting her cordless to her ear.

“Kimberly, darling, how are you?”

Kimberly rolled her eyes and exhaled forcibly.  “Mother, how are you?”

“Just sitting in my sun room, worried sick about you,”  Mrs. Neel told her.

“Why are you worried about me?”  Kim asked.  “I’m fine.”

“How would we know?”  Mrs. Neel snapped.  “You never call, you never come by.  No e-mails, not even a lousy postcard.”

“A postcard?  Mom, I live in Manhattan, you live in Westchester, why would I send you a postcard?”

“You could send a telegram or a letter by pony express for all I care.   Your father and I just want to hear from you.”

“Mother, I just saw you in church last week.”

“But you missed service yesterday,” Mrs. Neel countered.  “We hadn’t heard from you, anything could have happened.  We worry about you so much.  I mean, living in the city is so dangerous, especially for a
single
woman.”

Kimberly exhaled and got comfortable.  She knew what was coming next.  Her mother’s diatribe about marriage was an almost weekly ritual.

“I’m fine, Mother.”

“No, you’re not fine, Kimberly!”  Mrs. Neel said forcefully.  “You’re living in the middle of all those wild and raunchy people, you’ve tossed away your only immediate prospect for a husband, you're stuck in a dead end job, and you refuse to go back to school and get your MBA or your CPA.  I don’t know what to do.”

“There is nothing for you to do, Mother.  Times Square is not filled with raunchy and dangerous people, it’s just full like that on New Years.  I did not throw away my only prospects for a husband.  John and I split, because he had way too many issues, way too many children, and way too many baby mommas.  And my job is not a dead end job, I’m an ad executive at one of the largest magazines in the country.”

“John is an orthopedic surgeon, for Pete’s sake!”

“Yeah, with three different baby mommas!  One of whom slashed my tires, and another who threw a brick through my car window and keyed my car door!”

“And you blame him for their behavior?”

“I just couldn’t deal with the drama anymore, Mom.  The stalking, the telephone calls, the messages left at my job.  It was too much.  And he wasn’t helping to control the situation.”

“You let a good man get away, because you weren’t willing to fight for him?”

“Mother, please.  Not this conversation again.  I’ve had a rough day.”

“Well, if you were the wife of a doctor, you wouldn’t have to work at that dead end job.”

“Mother, I love my job.  It’s challenging, and rewarding, and…”

“And it leaves you exhausted and broke.”

“I’m not broke.”

“Do you need money?”

“I could use some,” Kimberly said softly.

“Ah-ha!”  Mrs. Neel told her.  “See, if you go back to school, get your MBA or your CPA, then you could get a job that pays some
real
money.  And, if you furthered your education, it would dramatically improve your chances of getting into the Links.”

“Mother, who said that I wanted to join the Links?”

“Don’t be silly, dear.  Everyone wants to join the Links.”

“You may find this hard to believe, but not everyone wants to join your group of gossiping old women.”

“Kimberly!”

“Mother!”  Kimberly exhaled.  “Look, Mom, I have to go.  I have something cooking on the stove.  Tell Dad I love him, and I’ll talk to both of you later.  Love you.”

Kimberly hung up the telephone before her mother could get another word in.  She reclined in her chair, lifted her warm espresso, and turned her attention toward her television.  A nice Lifetime movie would do her some justice right now.  She needed to see something about women overcoming, overpowering, or snipping off the protruding parts of a lousy, cheating man.  Hopefully, that man would be a cheating orthopedic surgeon with way too many ex-wives.

*****

Sterling strolled through the park toward the playground.  It was a playground he knew well, as it served as his weekly pick-up spot for his most cherished possession in the world; Sterling Williams III.

“Daddy!” Sterling III raced to his father and leaped into his arms.

Sterling lifted his son into the air and spun him around.  “Third!” 

Sterling planted kisses all over his son’s face.  He was too much in rapture to notice the approach of the boy’s mother.

“You’re late,” Carmela said sternly.

“I am not,” Sterling protested.

Carmela peered down at her wrist watch.  “You were supposed to be here at two o’clock.”

“For Pete’s sake, Carmela, its two minutes after two right now!”  Sterling told her.

“Which means you’re late!”  Carmela told him.

“I’m not going to let you ruin my day,” Sterling told her.  “Me and Third are going to spend some time together in the park.”

“Look, I don’t even have to let you do this!”  Carmela reminded him.  “It’s not the weekend.  I’m just being nice and letting you spend time with him, since we were going to be here today anyway.”

Sterling held out his palms, calming the situation.  “Okay, I know.  I thank you for it.  We’re just going to head over to the swing and spend some time together.”

Carmela peered down at her watch.  “You got fifty five minutes left.”  She turned, seated herself on a nearby park bench, and engrossed herself in the novel she brought along.

Sterling wrapped his arm around Third, and the two of them headed off to a nearby play area.

“So, how have things been going?”  Sterling asked.

Third shrugged his shoulders.  “The same.  Mom made me go to church Sunday.”

“That’s good.  You’re supposed to go to church.”

“But when I got home, my X-Box messed up.”

“What happened to it?”

Third shrugged his shoulders again.  “I don’t know, it just stopped working.”

“Well, it just so happens, that I went online today, and I checked a certain young man’s grades, and they were all A’s.”

Third smiled and nodded.

“So,”  Sterling continued.  “I think a brand new X-Box can be arranged.  If I would have known you needed one, I would have brought it today.  But, since I didn’t know, I only brought this.”  Sterling reached into his pocket and pulled out a video game.

Third instantly snatched it out of his hand.  “Madden ’13!  All right!”  He again wrapped his arms around his dad.

“I wish you would call me when you need something,” Sterling told him.

Third nodded.  “I didn’t need anything.”

“You needed a new X-Box.”

“Mom said that a new X-Box is a want, not a need,” Third explained.  “She said that it was a privilege.”

Sterling laughed and nodded.  “Your mom’s right.  You make sure that you always listen to her.  You be a good son, and you do what your mother tells you to do.”

“I want to live with you, Dad.”

“You can stay with me on the weekends like you’ve been doing.”

“But I want to stay on the weekdays too.”

“Your mom wouldn’t go for that,” Sterling told him.  “I would love to have you live with me all of the time, but I can’t.  Your mom loves you just as much as I do, so we have to share you.”

Third nodded.  “But if we all lived together again, then both of you could share me all of the time.”

“Yeah, and that’s a really good idea,”  Sterling said uncomfortably.  “But, your mother and I have to have different houses right now.”

“Why?”

“Because, we like to do things different.  Your mom has certain ways of running a house, and your dad has his ideas about how things should go.  So, instead of arguing about which way to do things, we each have our own house so that we can do things the ways we like.”

“My teacher says that everyone should compromise.”

Sterling threw his head back in laughter.  “You kids are getting sharper with each passing generation.  Here, climb onto this swing so I can push you.”

Third seated himself on the swing, and Sterling pushed from behind.

“I’m really proud of you, Third.  You’re doing really well in school, and you’re doing really well at home.  You help your mother a lot, and you’re a fantastic kid.  You’re the best son in the whole world.”

“Are you buttering me up?”  Third asked.

Sterling laughed and rubbed his son’s head.  “No, I’m not buttering you up!  I’m just telling you how fantastic you are.  You make me the happiest dad in the world, and I’m just letting you know it, that’s all.”

“Can we go get ice cream?”

Sterling peered at his watch.  “We’ll ask you mother if she’ll let us go for some ice cream.”

“You think she will?”

“Maybe, if we let her go with us.”

“I love you, Dad.”

“I love you too, Third.”

Chapter Four

Chin Chin’s was Manhattan’s premier spot for upscale Asian cuisine.  Nestled between 2nd and 3rd Avenues, the restaurant was patronized by the Big Apple’s elite.  Wall Street movers and shakers, as well as sports stars, music artist, and runway superstars could be found sitting in the restaurant’s VIP section throughout the day.  The restaurant’s delectable cuisine, as well as the potential for star gazing, was what made it one of the city’s trendiest spots.  It was also what made the restaurant a favorite meeting place for Kimberly and her girlfriends.

“Hey!”  Kimberly rose from the table and greeted Mia, who was the first to arrive. 

“Hey, girl!”  Mia said, hugging Kim.  “I thought that I was early.”

Mia was half Malaysian, and half Philippine.  Her skin was a deep caramel, while her hair was long and wavy.  She had full lips, hazel eyes, and thick natural eyebrows.  She could have continued to model, and been a runway superstar, but instead her dreams took her to Princeton, where she majored in political science.  She graduated from college at the age of eighteen, and received her Masters at the age of twenty.  By the time she turned twenty one, she had her Ph.D in Political Science, and was a rising star in New York’s State Democratic Committee.  Her current job was with the National Democratic Party’s New York office.

“Let me look at you!”  Kimberly told Mia, lifting her arms up.  “Girl, love that Obama ’12 t-shirt!  That is so cute!”

“Twenty-twelve, girlfriend!”  Mia said, hi-fiving Kim.

“Are we gonna get it done?”  Kimberly asked.

“We gone get it done!”  Mia told her.

Mia had been one of Kim’s best friends since Princeton.  Mia had been in graduate school, while Kim was an undergrad.  But they were the same age, and they were dating roommates across the campus.  Mia’s dating of Black men, often earned her the consternation of sisters on the street, and often brought Kim into the mix in defense of her friend.

“Hey, girlfriends!”  Brittany squealed as she walked to the table and hugged Kim and Mia.

“Hey, girl!”  Kim said, exchanging hugs.

“Hey, girlfriend,”  Mia said, hugging Brittany in turn.

The three of them took their seats, just as the waiter approached and left menus around the table. 

“You cut your hair!”  Kimberly declared.

Brittany patted her pixie cut and modeled her new hair style for them, while they pretended to ooooh and aaaaah.  Brittany was the silly one of trio.  She had a goofy sense of humor, and took things much less seriously than the other two.  She was white, privileged, and rich.  Having light, naturally blond hair, crystal blue eyes, a gorgeous shape, and a degree from Princeton gave her an advantage in life that most would die for.  The fact that her parents owned Sherwood Hotels didn’t hurt either.  She could afford to take life as it came.  Brittany’s biggest problem was whether she should marry Brent, the thoracic surgeon, or Bret, the oncologist.  She had life by the horns, and like few others, truly controlled her own destiny.

“Girl, with that Halle Berry cut, and that big old butt, people are going to think you got a little black in you,”  Mia told Brittany.

“Well, I’ve had some black in me before,”  Brittany laughed.   “Remember Gary?”

“You’re nasty!”  Kim laughed.

Brittany rose and started bouncing her butt like a video girl.  The three of them broke into uncontrollable laughter.  Brittany seated herself and tugged at Mia’s red, white, and blue Obama t-shirt.

“That is so cute!”  Brittany told her.

“That’s what I said!”  Kim told them.

“What’s your boy gonna do?”  Brittany asked.

“Win!”  Mia said determinedly.  “He doesn’t have a choice, not with Mia on his team!  It’s win or win, no other option.”

“They are really getting down on him about changing his position on drilling offshore,” Brittany told her.

“And for changing his position on opening up the national petroleum reserves,”  Kimberly added.

“He had to,” Mia told them.  “People are so blind, so short sighted.  All they are worried about is how much they are paying for gas today.  They don’t understand that nothing can be done to change gas prices in the immediate future.  We could discover an oil deposit the size of Texas, but it takes time to extract it, refine it, and distribute it.  And we don’t have enough refining capacity to deal with the oil being extracted now!  But all they want to hear is more drilling, more oil, forget about the environmental consequences!”