Cheaters (45 page)

She took two plastic bowls out of the cabinet.

“I called her this morning, and she had a ‘tude with me. She practically hung up on me. I paged you, and you didn’t hit me back. And you’re acting all funny toward me now. Y’all mad at me because I got too drunk and puked a little?”

“Are you serious?”

She was being real.

All Tammy remembered about that night was getting sick at the Hollywood Athletic Club, saying good-bye to her friends, walking out to the car, getting dizzy, then waking up with a hangover and a nasty taste in her mouth. That morning I’d pretended I was asleep until she left for her rehearsal, so we never talked.

I said, “Well, you missed it all.”

“What did I miss?”

“Me and Karen had a fight.”

“You’re always arguing.”

“No. A fight. A real fight.”

I dropped down the details.

Of course, I played it all down like it was no big deal.

Tammy cracked up. She thought it was funny as hell.

She said, “Get real. I don’t believe you had a fight over a bucktoothed brother from Birmingham.”

“You think I was wrong, don’t you?”

She waited a moment, then said, “You’ve changed a lot, Chanté.”

I sighed.

She added, “I’m really worried about you.”

“About?”

“Well, just like a lot of the things you try to tell Karen to help her out, about thinking about her future, I think

that maybe you should listen to some of the things she tells you. In some ways, you need to think about your future too.”

Criticism sounded so much softer coming from Tammy. She had a skill, she knew how to talk to people. “I see. Well, thanks for being honest with me.”

“Me too,” she added, her voice so sensitive. “I have to think about my future too. That’s another reason why going to Paris is so important to me.”

“Well, partner, life has dragged all of us up some strange roads,” I said. “I’ve done things that I never thought I’d do.”

“That’s life, baby. All you’re doing is living. One thing about life, you never know which way the winds are gonna blow. Hollywood or Paris, You never know where you’re gonna end up.”

I gave a warm smile, patted her hand. “I’m okay.”

“I don’t think so. And you don’t think you are.”

Then she fell silent. I was quiet too. I stopped concentrating on self, and wondered if she was okay.

I said, “Karen made me so mad.”

“She has that talent. And you have that talent too.”

“Don’t you ever want to get back at somebody?”

“Sweetheart, I live in Hollywood. The home of the back-stabbers. I want to get back at somebody twenty-four-seven.”

“Why don’t you?”

“Baby, in Hollywood, today’s secretary is tomorrow’s movie producer. You have to keep your past from biting your ass.”

We laughed.

Somehow we started talking about men. I told her what had gone down at Stephan’s during the Sunday dinner. I told her about that half-breed hoochie from Palm Springs who came storming up in there and claimed Stephan as her man. I let her know that Darnell was there with his wife. I did that because I wanted her to back off from making herself available to Darnell. In my mind, I could still see the look in Michael’s wife’s eye when she caught him in my bed. I remembered how I felt when I realized I’d been fucked over by a married man. And that feeling didn’t rest

well with me. I described Dawn from head to toe, told Tammy every word of what she had said to me.

I asked my girlfriend, “If Darnell wanted to leave his wife and get with you, what would you do?”

“Give him a key. He already has the map to my heart. He’s already stimulated my mind. Now, right or wrong, this body has become an instrument I’d love him to play.”

“Damn.”

“I’m serious. I love him. But love ain’t nothing new to me. To be honest, I don’t know why he has my heart.”

“Tammy, baby, there are a million men out there you could be compatible with, why a married man?”

She shrugged. “The love stopped here for some reason.”

I thought about Stephan. I was mad as hell at him, but I missed him more than I wanted to admit, when I said, “Kismet.”

“Nothing more, nothing less.”

“Me. You. Stephan. Darnell. You wonder why all of us ended up in the same place on the same night?”

“Every damn day. If we had’ve gone to another club that night, everything would be different.”

“Definitely kismet.”

She repeated, “Nothing more, nothing less.”

“So, where does that leave you?”

“I wouldn’t try to take him from his wife, because I wouldn’t want anybody to take him from me. I just plain old love him.”

“What about Bobby? Don’t you care about him?”

“I kicked Bobby to the curb.”

“For Darnell?”

“Nah.” She waved like I was silly. “Some girl called me at three in the morning begging me not to take him from her.”

“When?”

“A while back. She was cool about it. She didn’t clown. She found my number and wanted to know if Bobby was playing her. I told her he was playing her like a game of dominoes.”

She laughed like it was no big deal. I laughed along, not because it was funny, but just so she wouldn’t be laughing alone.

Behind my fake ha-has, my feelings were hurt. I wondered

why she hadn’t called me when it happened. That was what I would’ve done, called her and called Karen. I would’ve rushed to lean on them because I would’ve wanted somebody here with me to share and help thin out my misery.

Tammy said, “So, Paris for a month will do me some good. I can put space between me and a lot of things, past and present.”

“What things in the past?”

She patted my hands. “Things I never been able to talk about. A part of my past that’s going to come back and bite me one day. There’s a lot about me you don’t know. I’ll tell you one day.”

I knew there was a lot about her I didn’t know. She kept her woes and secrets on her hip; I wore mine on my lips. Since day one, Tammy has brought only good news, friendship, and comfort to my doorstep, never the bad. If I hadn’t asked now, I probably never would have known she’d broken up with her beau.

Her words relaxed me, and a lot of tension fled my used and abused body. I grabbed a bowl of ice cream, and we sat at the dining room table with a plate full of Chips Ahoy cookies between us. Dipping, eating, and putting on the calories.

Tammy moaned, “This will go right to my thighs.”

“All four of ‘em.”

“Forget you. May your ass spread like butter.”

I put the sweetness between two cookies, made a too rich sandwich. Even though we were talking about other things, between every breath I was contrasting my old lovers to Stephan.

I asked, “What’re you thinking about?”

She hummed a bit. “What do you dream about, Chanté?”

“I used to dream about being married, me and my husband and my children taking vacations to places abroad, living comfortably, sorta like the Cosbys. Yep, I used to dream about me, Craig, and a bunch of kids that looked like him.”

She sighed. “If we don’t get a move on, or a decent sperm donor, our ovaries are gonna shut down.”

“We could always freeze our eggs.”

“And have a baby that looks like a Popsicle? I think not.”

We laughed so hard ice cream drooled out of our mouths.

I told her, “I can’t imagine you with a baby.”

Tammy looked kind of solemn for a quick sec.

She asked, “What do you dream about now?”

I shook my head. “I stopped dreaming.”

“When did you stop dreaming?”

“I should’ve stopped when
The Cosby Show
went off the air.”

We talked some more. About different things. Mostly about how foolish me and Karen had acted over a brother who needed a dental plan. We’d had arguments, but we’d never gone that far.

I confessed, “I already miss talking to Karen.”

“Forget Karen. She’ll calm down. What you got left to eat?”

“Look and see.”

I went into the bedroom, checked my answering machine. Thaiheed had called to say hi. I fast-forwarded past that one. One was from Stephan. I listened to it twice.

That was all he said. He struggled to get those words out, paused before he hung up, almost like he couldn’t put together the thoughts that were in his head.

I erased his voice. Romance was over. Time to move on.

Tammy yelled, “Karen call?”

“Nope,” I answered. My thoughts returned to that stupid fight. One true friendship. It’s not like I have a lot of friends. I really felt bad, like I’d messed up big time. We were a threesome, had been a threesome so long. I felt so sensitive, like a little girl, when I called out, “Tammy?”

“What?”

“I want to resolve things with Karen.”

“Call her.”

“No. Face to face. Now. The sooner the better.”

Traffic wasn’t bad on a Monday evening, so we decided to drive the twenty-something miles out to Riverside. I felt

derailed, and I had to get some of my emotions back on track.

I could’ve gone alone, but I needed Tammy there for balance.

It was ten-thirty, so after working all day at the DMV, Karen should be home, hair in rollers, getting ready to hit the sack.

I had Tammy stop by the Lucky’s grocery store across the street, and I bought another pint of ice cream, a bona fide peace offering. With that detour, it was close to eleven-thirty when we got off the 60 freeway, drove up Blaine to the Timber Apartments. Karen’s Altima was parked in her stall.

Delicate contemporary jazz flowed from inside the first-floor apartment. I stayed back, held the ice cream, reluctant because I felt unwelcome.

Tammy rang the doorbell.

I swallowed deep. Karen was going to read me up and down.

Tammy did her usual foolery by sticking her hand over the peephole to black it out.

“Think she has company?” I whispered.

“Her coochie’s a vegetarian.”

“True.”

“She’s probably humming and coming with Victor. She can put that artificial weenie on pause for a few minutes.”

“Does a vibrator have a pause?”

Tammy shrugged. “Hell if I know. I think it has a fast forward.”

“Maybe I should talk to her first—”

“Stop looking for an excuse to leave.”

“What if she—”

Tammy shouted, “Karen, open up!”

Tammy rang the doorbell several times before Karen’s sleep-ridden voice finally responded: “What?”

“It’s Tammy.”

“Tammy?”

“Is there an echo in Riverside?”

“What are you doing all the way out here?”

“Open the door and find out. Don’t worry, I’m through throwing up. At least I think I am.”

The door opened a little, just enough for her illegal herbal aroma to creep out in the night breeze.

Karen was tying the wrap on a satin robe I’d given her when we exchanged gifts last Christmas. We’d given each other presents while we sat underneath my Christmas tree and sipped hot apple cider. If she was wearing something I’d given her, maybe all hope wasn’t lost. I smiled at the memory, then at Karen.

She had some serious cleavage going on. Legs bare. Sweat on her brow. Hair pinned up.

Tammy joked, “Damn, that smoke is thick as San Francisco fog. What the hell is your sweaty ass doing in there this time of night? Getting high and working out to a Donna Richard tape?”

I thought Karen would either come out, or let us inside. When she’d opened the door, she didn’t crack it but a touch. The yellow porch light was in my face. The door was wide enough to reveal Karen’s surprise to see me.

She exhaled my name, “Chanté.”

I inhaled, then did the same, “Karen.”

Tammy playfully pushed the door open a little wider. Karen frowned at me like I was the last person she wanted in her life, gripped the edge of the door, and stopped Tammy in her tracks.

I was jarred by her rudeness, and so was Tammy.

“What’s up?” Tammy asked. “Why’re you going off on me?”

“Nothing is up,” Karen responded softly. She glanced at me, at Tammy, then her face shifted to a sideways glare that screamed out her sentiments.

Tammy’s hands were on her hips. “You going to invite us in?”

Karen shook her head. “Can’t.”

“Busy?”

“Kind of.”

“Masturbating?”

“No.”

“Alone?”

“That’s not important.”

Karen and I looked at each other for a moment. She was acting all hard, but I knew her, so I recognized the look in

her eyes. We mirrored the same hurt, were both waiting for the other to say something first.

I took the melting ice cream out of the bag, held it up, and gave her my wavering smile. “Butter pecan. Our favorite.”

I thought she would laugh a little, but Karen’s facial expression didn’t change. That nullified the only magic I had.

I moved up. “I’m sorry. I apologize for whatever I said at the club that night. I apologize for jumping in your face and putting you out. Can we still be friends?”

Karen was belligerent. “I don’t know.”

“What you mean, you don’t know?” Tammy interjected.

“I mean,” Karen reinforced, “I don’t know.”

“Just say yes or no,” I said.

Karen drummed her fingernails against the rim of the door frame, looked at my uneasiness, then shot a scowl back at Tammy.

Karen said stiffly, “Let’s get together and discuss this later in the week.”

“Hell, no!” Tammy said. “We need to resolve this. Now. You know I’ll be in rehearsal all week, and I’m leaving for Paris next weekend.”

Karen made a who-gives-a-shit expression, said, “We’ll talk when you get back from your funky little trip.”

Tammy said, “You dogging me like that?”

“Please, Karen?” I begged. “I’m losing sleep over this, all right?”

Tammy grabbed my wrist, pulled me behind her, then pushed her way through Karen’s door. Just like she had done me, Tammy’s bullheaded charge had caught Karen off guard. The base of the wooden door jammed Karen’s toes. Cursing, she let go of the door so she could grab her foot. She lost her balance and did a one-foot hop with the pain.