I Want Candy (4 page)

Candy looked at the caller-ID. The number seemed familiar, but she couldn’t place it. No name appeared on the screen. She debated answering it as she held the dust cloth in one hand and the phone in the other.

“Hello?” she finally answered, turning her iPod speakers down.

“Hi, Candy,” came the familiar deep voice. “I hope you don’t mind. I got your number from the office yesterday.”

Candy’s tongue felt like it was covered in cement.

“Hello?” repeated the voice.

“Yes, Quentin,” Candy said after catching her breath. She slid down into one of the chairs at the dining room table. She flexed her bare feet, her freshly painted hot pink toenails shining in the light.

Quentin gave a nervous chuckle. “You don’t sound exactly happy to hear from me.”

“I told you I had a heavy workload and asked you to tell me what this was all about, but you never emailed me back.”

“Well, I figured a phone call would be more appropriate. E-mail is so impersonal,” Quentin explained.

“But that didn’t stop you from sending a text message to let me know that you and I were over,” Candy said. She immediately regretted saying it. She didn’t want him to know that she was still wounded.

Quentin sighed. “I suppose I deserved that. Look Candy, I want to apologize to you. You’ve been on my mind lately and…Man, I miss you.”

Candy paused a moment before responding. “That’s very touching and all, and I’m glad that you have fond memories, Quentin, but I can’t say the feeling’s mutual. You hurt me very badly, and I’ve finally gotten over it. I’m not upset with you anymore. I just really have no desire to reopen the door.” Her voice trailed off as images of their failed relationship re-emerged.

“I knew this would be an uphill battle. Candy, I still care about you. I still…” he paused for emphasis, “love you. I messed up. I guess I was scared and ran. We had something really special.”

“So special that you ran back to your ex-girlfriend. Look Quentin, I’m truly not trying to give you a hard time, I just can’t afford to give a damn about you anymore. I think…”

“I know that’s a lie. You do give a damn about me, and I’m gonna give you some time. I’m gonna leave you with this: I love you. I want you back. I want to be with you. I miss our conversations, our friendship, and the beautiful lovemaking. Take all the time you want, but just know I’m back.” He hung up the phone.

Candy sat there with the phone in her hand, looking down at it. She watched as her display flashed the duration of the call. She closed her eyes and rubbed her temples before standing up and turning her music back on. She walked into the kitchen and opened the refrigerator, looking over the choices: milk, eggs, lettuce, bread, apple juice, leftover baked fish, cake…cake. She reached into the refrigerator and grabbed the piece of leftover double-chocolate cake. One of her coworkers had had a birthday the day before. Candy had eaten one slice and taken another home. She reached into her black granite island drawer, pulled out a fork, and shoveled a large piece into her mouth. She closed her eyes as she chewed it, savoring the taste. She reached back into the refrigerator and grabbed the gallon of cold milk. She went to the other side of the massive kitchen and pulled out a large drinking glass. She poured the milk to the rim and drank it nearly as fast as she poured it, polishing the cake off in record time. She then retrieved the takeout menus and called the Chinese restaurant that was a few blocks away.

“Hi, yes, I’d like the beef and broccoli, two shrimp eggrolls, a large hot-and-sour soup, an order of your chicken dumplings, and some Crab Rangoon. Yes, that will be all. Yes, 783 Dixie Drive. Thank you.” Candy hung up the phone and picked up her dust cloth again, going over the same baseboard, her thoughts drifting in and out until she was brought out of her trance by the sound of the delivery boy ringing her doorbell.

* * *

“OK, you know what you have to do right?” Dallas said as she ate the cherry from her drink. She lie back lazily on Candy’s living room couch while their mutual friend Jasmine flipped through an old Essence magazine that she picked up from the oval coffee table.

“What?” Candy asked cautiously as she took a bite of her grilled chicken and guacamole quesadilla hors d'oeuvres she had prepared along with shrimp and pineapple kabobs.

“You need to go ahead and let him come over. Let him give you some of that body, then kick his ass out!” Dallas laughed as she slapped her knee. “Let him feel what it feels like to be treated like shit for a change. Use that man for some sex, Girl!”

Jasmine rolled her eyes. “That’s a bad plan.”

“Dallas, that sounds like somethin’ Jasmine would say! I can’t believe you!” Candy laughed.

“You know Candy can’t sleep with someone without catchin’ feelin’s. What you
need
to do, Candy, is tell him you’re not interested and you have a new man. You have to lie to these men because they can’t handle the truth. If you told him he wasn’t shit, you hate the sound of his voice, and you wish he was dead, he’d take that as a challenge and do everything in his power to be with you. Matter of fact, that
is
what you should do. Tell him he ain’t shit.”

Candy smirked. “You both are leadin’ me down the wrong path. I’ve made enough bad choices without you two addin’ to ’em,” she laughed.

“Well then, what are you gonna do?” Jasmine asked. “Ever since he called, you’ve been cleanin’ like a maid and stayin’ in the house like some little ol’ lady. This is gonna have to be addressed sooner or later. You obviously are still mad and have the right to be. That asshole did you dirty. He didn’t even care. He didn’t even have the decency to tell you the truth. Instead he blamed it on the wind, saying you two weren’t compatible anymore! Lyin’ ass Nig…”

“Wait a minute!” Dallas interrupted. “What if you did this instead? What if you just sent him an email – don’t call. Make it rude like he did you with that text message. Just send an email or text sayin’, “Please don’t call me again.” I swear, Ladies, we make things entirely too complicated. This man does not deserve a meetin’ between three intelligent women on what to do with him. Instead, we should be callin’ some strippers!” Dallas laughed as she whipped out her cell phone.

Candy nodded as Jasmine snorted and removed a shrimp kabob from the platter.

“He just threw me for a loop, y’all. I thought I’d never hear from him again,” Candy frowned. “I guess his new but old relationship didn’t work out either. Somethin’ is wrong with that man!” Candy laughed as she stood and picked the used napkins up from the table, taking them to the trashcan in the kitchen.

Jasmine called out while Candy walked away, “Of course it didn’t. Doesn’t it kill you when they keep bouncin’ back and forth between different women? One relationship isn’t workin’, so they go back to the old one, and then when that one hits a rough patch, they go to another one, and back and forth he goes, spreadin’ that dick between two women with his nasty ass and Lord knows who else. Y’all should see some of the stuff I’ve seen in that doctor’s office!” Jasmine shook her head. Dallas held up her hand, refusing to be subjected to Jasmine’s stories as a gynecological medical assistant. “Jasmine! Don’t even go there. I don’t wanna hear your nasty war stories from that place!”

“OK, but wait a minute,” Jasmine laughed, “This one woman, her husband gave her genital warts, it looked just like brown cauliflower. I woulda shot that fool. He had the nerve to tell her he didn’t know what she was talkin’ about, that she must have been the one messin’ around. This woman was faithful. I felt so bad for her. She was cryin’ in the office. I held her hand while Dr. Polsar lasered that shit off. The bad part is it may come back.”

“How am I supposed to finish my food now, Jasmine?” Dallas complained as Candy brought in another round of Long Island Iced Teas.

“Wait a minute, y’all. This one sista came into the office talkin’ about how she had this really strange discharge. Dr. Polsar gave her a pap smear, and she had almost everything under the sun. She was married too, and her husband had been pickin’ up prostitutes. She knew about it, but he swore he had stopped. Now she has herpes, and ain’t no coming back from that – it’s permanent! I promise you, after I finished school, I never had unprotected sex again. It just isn’t worth it! You lucky if all you get is a baby nowadays.” Jasmine rolled her big brown eyes as she crossed her long, thin caramel legs.

“That’s what really gets me,” Candy said as she sat back down. “Why is it that it seems some men have no sense of honor? We know that most of ’em cheat, but with a prostitute? Really? You go pay some drug addict for sex and don’t even use a condom? You must not care about that wife at home at all! It makes me certain I’m never gettin’ married again!” Candy dipped a jagged, salty chip into a creamy bowl of ranch dip.

“Girl, don’t let one idiot stop you from true love,” Dallas warned. “Eric was a womanizer and a manipulator. Quentin is just a bastard. You know what your problem is, Candy? You care about the man more than yourself. You get lost in the relationship. Jasmine and I used to make a joke about you. Whenever you were in a new relationship, we’d say, “Well, we won’t be seein’ Candy for a while!” You just forget about everything that used to matter to you and build your whole world around these guys. I mean, damn, Candy, you have a great career, you’re nice lookin’, and look at your crib! It’s fabulous. You cook, you clean – shit, you’re great at math and you’re a good catch.”

“Yeah, but she’s overweight,” Jasmine chimed in, swinging her crossed leg which brandished a rose tattoo.

“Jasmine!” Dallas snapped.

“Look, I’m just tellin’ the truth. Candy’s weight yo-yos like I’ve never seen. I work in the medical field, and it’s just not healthy. Candy is an emotional eater. One week, she’ll be ten pounds lighter than she is right now, then three weeks later, she’ll be twenty pounds heavier. She’s a pretty girl, don’t get me wrong. She has a really pretty face, gorgeous actually. Men look at her all the time, but that’s her downfall,” Jasmine said flippantly, rolling her eyes.

“I’m sittin’ right here, Jasmine! Don’t talk about me like I’m not in the room,” Candy warned.

“Oh, Candy. I’m sorry. We just have known each other so long I thought I could be honest with you,” Jasmine said.

“You can be honest without being nasty about it, Jasmine!” Dallas corrected. “Look, Candy, OK, your weight does fluctuate and I guess…”

“Food is my drug of choice,” Candy interrupted. “I know what’s goin’ on. I’ve been down this road many times before. I’m not one of those women who walk around unaware. It’s what I do. Unlike being hooked on crack or alcohol, I have to eat. I love to cook. I also don’t have a fast metabolism like Ms. Jasmine here who apparently thinks her shit don’t stink and everyone can eat a cheeseburger and still look like her!”

“Now wait a minute, Candy. I never said that I was perfect. I was just sayin’ that…” Jasmine began to explain, before Candy interrupted her.

“I know you’re not perfect, and I know what you were saying,” Candy yelled.

“Your drug of choice is putting down others to make yourself feel better. I love you anyway, but we’re sittin’ here just being honest, right?” Candy rolled her eyes. “And screw you with that pretty-face shit. Fat girls hear that over and over again. It’s like tellin’ a paraplegic “Well, at least your legs are thin even though they don’t have muscle tone because you can’t walk” – like it’s a compliment or something. Get the hell outta here with that!”

Dallas
burst out laughing, slapping her knee as Jasmine sat there stunned with her mouth open.

Jasmine took another bite of her kabob. “Heifa, you’re far too sensitive. Look, let me finish my sentence this time. Whatever is triggerin’ you to overeat is lessoning your chances of findin’ a good man. It’s the one thing that will make you lose out, because like Dallas said, you do have it all. That’s the only thing that’s missin’. You’re intelligent, funny, and everything else she said – but damn, girl, leave that fried chicken alone!” Jasmine grimaced in disgust. Candy laughed and gave her the middle finger.