The Man in 3B (5 page)

“What in the world are you ladies doing out on the stoop this early in the morning?” I asked, checking my watch. It was a little after seven on a Saturday morning, and half the women of the building were sitting out there in their housecoats, coffee cups in hand. “Surely there aren’t any breaking news stories already.”

“Girl, please. You must think we’re stupid,” Nancy snapped to her coanchors before directing her next comment at me. “We out here for the same reason you are.” She looked me up and down. “Only thing is you got one up on us.”

All eyes were on me as I stared at her, puzzled. “What in the world are you talking about?”

“I’m talking about that sweat suit you wearing. It’s new, ain’t it?”

That damn woman knew more about my wardrobe than I did. What, was she sleeping in my closet? “Yeah, it’s new,” I told her. “What about it?”

She shook her head and grinned at me. “You can play dumb if you want to, but all I wanna know is when did you take up running?”

One of her coanchors chimed in, “Right after she found out Mr. Graham up in 3B takes his morning run around the park about this time.”

“You know what? You ladies are a mess.” I shooed my hand at their silliness. I had no idea Daryl took morning jogs. “This ain’t got nothing to do with our new neighbor and everything to do with me and my husband. I’m trying to look good for him.”

“Mm-hmm, we hear you,” Nancy said sarcastically.

With a smile on my face, I headed to the park, shaking my head at the women and their antics.

I got started on the walking trail and realized quickly that this was not going to be as easy as I’d thought. I was starting to feel tired after only the first few steps. Lucky for me, there were resting spots every so often. Well, they weren’t really resting spots. There was equipment for joggers to stop and stretch on, but for me, they were resting spots. All I did was lean on the equipment and pray to God I didn’t collapse.

“Hey there, pretty lady.”

The words I heard coming from behind gave me a sudden burst of energy. My body, which was initially slumped over the piece of outdoor workout equipment, suddenly perked up like a twenty-year-old’s nipples. I’d know that voice anywhere. I’d know those words anywhere. Not many people referred to me as a pretty lady—not even my own husband. And only one man had a baritone voice like that. Daryl Graham.

“Hi there, neighbor,” I said as he approached. I was actually surprised to see him. Even though the ladies back at my apartment building had told me Daryl took morning runs, my mind had been on other things—like how to reignite my marriage, or even more basic, how to catch my breath.

“Look at you. First I see you taking the stairs instead of the elevator, and now you’re getting your workout on in the park. You really are serious about getting in shape, aren’t you?” He bent over to tie his sneaker.

“Yes, I am.” I felt my cheeks getting warm, but I didn’t even know why I was blushing. I seemed to lose all sense of control whenever this man was around.

“How far are you going? A mile? Two miles?” He began to stretch. Unlike me, he was using the equipment for its intended purpose.

“I was going to try and make it around the entire park. That’s five miles.”

He raised his eyebrows and let out a low whistle. “Impressive. I usually jog about a mile, maybe two, but five? That’s a little too ambitious for me.”

I blushed again, but this time I knew why. I was embarrassed. “No, no, I don’t plan on jogging it. I’m going to walk it.” Avery’s cutting comments from this morning rang in my head.

“Oh, I see.” Unlike my husband, Daryl looked supportive. “Maybe I’ll walk it with you. If you don’t mind.”

“I can’t think of anything that would make me wetter—I mean, I’d like
better
. Jesus Christ. I’d like that,” I said. Gentleman that he was, Daryl acted as if he hadn’t even heard my obvious faux pas.

We began our walk, me and the most handsome man I’d ever met.

“I haven’t seen you around much. I guess you don’t hang out on the stoop like the other ladies,” he said as he gave me a charming smile.

“No, I have a job and a husband to take care of. I don’t have time to be sitting around gossiping all day.”

“Preach, sista!” He laughed, raising his hand as if he were in church. “Do any of them work? Every time I come outside they’re out there. It doesn’t matter what time.”

I answered, “Oh, I’m sure a few of them have jobs, but from what I hear, they all like to sit on the stoop because they like the view.” I glanced over at him, thinking,
And I can’t really blame them.

He looked puzzled. “Really? Not much of a view if you ask me. Maybe they see something I don’t.”

“Maybe.” Was it possible this man really didn’t know the effect he had on women? I couldn’t help myself; I busted out laughing.

He turned to face me. “What’s so funny?”

“Nothing,” I replied, trying to contain my laughter. “Just a personal joke you wouldn’t understand.”

There was an awkward moment of silence where I just stared down at my tennis shoes; then I tried to break the tension by changing the subject to something more mundane. “So, uh, where are you from?”

“Born and raised in Queens,” he said proudly. “Been in Queens all my life. I used to live in Jamaica, down by the projects.”

“Southside? Whoa, that’s a pretty rough area.”

He shrugged. “Not really. No rougher than any other hood in the five boroughs.”

“I suppose.”

“What about you?” he asked. “You always live in Queens?”

“No, been here about three years. My husband and I moved here a few years ago from Long Island.”

“Speaking of your husband, I haven’t had a chance to meet him yet.”

“Well, he’s pretty busy with work. He’s a salesman for Sam’s.”

“Cheap Sam’s Furniture? I got my living room set from them.”

I nodded.

“How’s that working out for him?”

“It’s not. He hates it. It’s just something he’s doing until a management position opens up or the housing market picks up again. He used to be a mortgage broker doing real good for himself. And now he’s just…” I lowered my head. Thinking about all the changes going on in our life right now saddened me. Avery was so bitter. “He’s just miserable.”

Daryl stopped walking and put his hands on my shoulders. He waited until I raised my eyes to look at him before he asked, “Is everything all right? I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to pry.”

“No, it’s nothing like that at all.” I had this sudden urge to reach out and hug him, to thank him for the kindness he was showing me. I couldn’t remember the last time a man was so interested in hearing what I had to say. For some unexplained reason, I felt like I could trust this man even though I hardly knew him.

“Mr. Graham—Daryl—can I ask you something?”

“Sure.”

I swallowed my pride and asked, “What does a man really want out of a woman?”

I half expected him to start laughing, probably because it’s what Avery would have done if I had asked him that question. But Daryl stayed quiet and considered his words before he answered, “The usual. A woman who is sexy, sophisticated, classy, kind, giving, sexy, gentle, submissive to a degree… and did I say sexy?” He chuckled, but when I didn’t laugh with him, he realized there was something deeper going on.

He said simply, “Why do you ask?”

And with that single question, the floodgates opened. I started walking again so I wouldn’t have to face him. Daryl kept his stride beside me.

With tears rolling down my cheeks, I said, “I know I shouldn’t be confiding in someone I just met, but my husband doesn’t look at me the same. Sometimes he won’t look at me at all. And he sure as hell doesn’t want to touch me. But I think you just answered my question for me. As a matter of fact, I don’t even know why I asked. What man
doesn’t want a sexy woman by his side? And I sure as hell ain’t sexy no more with all this weight on me.”

“Ah, I get it.” I could see him piecing it all together in his head. “That’s why you take the steps and now you’re out here exercising. It’s for your husband.”

“Yes. I’ve put on a few pounds since we got married a few years ago. I’m almost sure that’s the reason for the change in our marriage,” I admitted.

“Well, exactly how much weight have you gained?” He paused. “If you don’t mind me asking.”

I didn’t mind. I was the one who’d brought it up. “I don’t know… forty, fifty pounds.” I shrugged, knowing that it was exactly fifty-two pounds and five ounces.

“Can I keep it real with you?” he asked, sounding hesitant for the first time.

“Please do.” I sighed anxiously, fearing that this gorgeous man was about to tell me I was huge and disgusting. But I needed to hear the truth. It was the only way I could fix things in my marriage.

“That is quite a bit of a weight gain for a brotha to have to contend with.” His words hurt, but then he softened the blow with, “But if he loves you, at the end of the day, he should just see it as more of you to love. I mean, hell, it should be him out here with you, not me. If you were my woman, that’s how I’d see it.”

There I went blushing again. “Speaking of which, why don’t you have a woman? A nice guy like you, seems like you’d have them lined up on your doorstep.” Technically speaking, if one counted the news crew, he actually did.

“Oh, I’ve got my share of friends. You’ll see them coming through from time to time, but there’s no one serious.”

I hate to admit it, but my heart leaped at the idea that he was single.

His phone rang, and he raised his hand politely. “One second. Let me get this.”

“Hello,” he said, then stopped in midstride, as if whoever was on the line had surprised the hell out of him. “Yeah, wow, it has been a long time.” He covered the phone. “Connie, can you give me a sec?”

I nodded and walked on ahead in order to give him some privacy. About five minutes later, he caught up to me. I couldn’t quite gauge the look on his face.

“Everything okay?” I asked.

“Ex-girlfriend wants me to visit her tomorrow.”

I felt a momentary twinge of jealousy, which bothered me. Why should I care about his ex? “Is that a good thing or a bad thing?” I asked.

“I don’t know. A while back I thought we were gonna end up married with a house full of kids, but in the end she hurt me pretty bad.”

I was touched by his openness and sincerity. It had been a long time since I’d witnessed a man exposing feelings other than anger and disappointment. It made me want to protect him.

“Sorry to hear that. What happened?”

We stopped at the next stretching station and sat down on a beam designed for balance exercises.

“Let’s just say she turned out not to be who I thought she was.” He looked away, clearly reliving some old hurt. “Now she’s asking me to forgive her.”

“Can you?”

He shrugged. “I want to, but I don’t know if I can trust her. What I do know is that I loved her. Don’t know if I’ll ever stop.”

I felt my eyes tear up again as I thought,
I wish Avery could love me that way.

After a few sad, silent minutes between us, he took a deep breath and stood up. “Okay, enough about me and my past loves,” he said, sounding renewed. “Do you really want to get rid of those extra pounds and get in shape?”

“Of course.”

“Then let me help you. I exercise almost every day. And if I’m not tooting my own horn, I’d say it works out for me just fine.” He flexed his muscles and struck a Mr. Universe pose. “Let me help you find what works for you.”

“You’re going to be my personal trainer or something?” I laughed, but it was more to cover my insecurity rather than my thinking
anything was funny. With Avery’s negative comments still in the back of my head, I wasn’t sure I believed I could really lose the weight.

“Actually, yeah, if that’s what you want to call it. I’d be your personal trainer.”

I didn’t want to insult him, and I truly appreciated his offer, so I got serious, even though I was scared. If I tried and then failed, I’d feel even worse than I already did. “Sure, that would be… great,” I said halfheartedly. “But how much is it going to cost me? My husband and I are on a pretty tight budget.”

He thought for a minute. “You cook?”

I held my arms up and looked down at my ample figure, as if to say,
What do you think?

He smiled at my joke. “Then let me think about a favorite meal you can prepare in return for my services.”

Seeing him standing there, looking at me with not a hint of disgust in his eyes, I felt inspired to at least make the effort. I don’t know what it was about Daryl, but he made me feel like I was worth something, like this shouldn’t only be about Avery. Like I owed it to myself to get healthy.

“You’ve got a deal.” I reached out and shook his hand. “When do you want to start?”

“Heck, we’re already here at the park standing by a piece of exercise equipment. What do you say we get started now?”

And start we did. That man worked me out on every piece of equipment along the walking trail. Over an hour had passed by the time we headed back toward the apartment building.

“Daryl, I must say, my body is tore up, but you know what?” I stopped walking and faced him. “It feels good.”

“Glad I could make you feel good.” Maybe I was just imagining it, but it sounded like his voice became just a little deeper.

What they say about exercise raising the endorphins must be true, because that one little comment had me, a faithfully married woman, thinking all kinds of naughty things about other ways Daryl could make me feel good. Oh yes, I was going to enjoy working out.

“Okay, I’ll see you tomorrow morning, Daryl. Bye.”

I was so elated when I hung up that I almost jumped out of my chair and did a jig. It had been three days since Rodney came to visit Monica. Three days during which I had to listen to her scream, beg, and plead for more at the top of her lungs. Three days since she reminded me that I too had a “Rodney” in the form of Daryl, who could have me anytime he wanted. I’d spent the better part of those three days on Facebook, reconnecting with old acquaintances and friending people I would have much rather forgotten, all in a quest to track Daryl down. I’d had absolutely no luck finding him until this morning, when I got a text from a mutual friend down south who had Daryl’s phone number.