My Best Friend and My Man (12 page)

She frowns and looks unimpressed, but I still sense that she accepts my words as truth.

“What do you want from Vee?”

“What I want,” I respond, “is another chance. I feel like I haven’t totally put my best foot forward. I need her to know that I can admit I screwed up, and she should give me a chance to see that I’m a decent brotha who’s not out to intentionally hurt her.” I wince as a vision of Ursula’s tear-stained face dashes across my mind. “I mean, it’s not like a woman hasn’t ever been hurt by me, but I try to be as fair as possible.”

“Well, that’s good,” she says. “Veron is a sweet girl.”

“Yes.” I smile and nod. “From the little time we’ve spent together, I can tell.”

“And she doesn’t have loads of experience with men, but you shouldn’t hold that against her. You’ll have to be patient and understanding.”

“Hmmm, I think I can manage.” I laugh out loud. “You won’t believe this, but I’ve been thinking about this woman every day. I gave up on calling her since she doesn’t seem too willing to talk to me, but I am hoping that time and now distance will heal any hard feelings. Where’d she go? Is she alone?”

“Seaphes, I am not going to go there. I tell some things but never everything.”

I peer at her thoughtfully, studying her apple-shaped face. “Why’s that?”

“You gotta do what works for you. Everyone does. I mean, do
you
tell it all?”

“Eventually.”

“I don’t believe you.”

“That’s your prerogative.”

Demetria looks intrigued. She moves a little closer to me, raking my body with her eyes. “I’d have to see it to believe it.”

“Keep your eyes open,” I advise her.

She looks at me. It’s an interesting look, a hungry, flirtatious one. But then she says, “Are you serious about Veron?”

“Why would you wonder that?” I say, puzzled.

“Because she told me you were all over what’s-her-face the other day.”

“I wasn’t all over what’s-her-face. And to answer your question, of course, I’m serious about Veron.”

“Alright,” she says. “So what’s your game plan?”

I study her curiously. “You always have a game plan?”

She shifts in her seat and breaks eye contact for a second. “I’m not the topic here. Let’s stick to Vee.”

“As you wish. Do I have a game plan? I’m not sure. It’s been a long time since I’ve been serious like this. I know what I would do if I just wanted to get some from her, but I don’t quite know how to go about getting her to like me again. And that’s the truth.”

“Why are you so into the truth? That’s different from most men.”

“Listen, I’ve been around a lot of women and some were cool as hell, smart, sophisticated southern sweethearts, but others were straight-out hos. If people would just be up front with who they are, a man like me could avoid all the nasty-ass hos we don’t wanna deal with.”

“That’s cold, Seaphes.” She stares at me a second. “What do you see when you look at me?”

“I don’t really want to go there.”

She gets up and sits in the chair next to me, her leg touching mine. I slightly scoot over.

“No, go ahead, Seaphes, tell me what you think of me. I’m curious.”

I lean toward her so close that I smell the mint fragrance of her warm breath.

“I’ve had you before, Demetria. You’re a woman who outwardly expresses confidence, vitality, and obvious beauty. You try extra hard to make people think you’re the shit, and usually that’s a red flag that something else is going on underneath the fancy wardrobe, the dangling jewelry, the sexy and bold talk. You’ve been hurt. And there’s more to you than meets the eye, admit it. Well, let me drop some truth on you. The part you’re hiding is the part that people really want to know. No man is gonna give a fuck about a woman who doesn’t have flaws or feelings.” I’m looking her straight in the eyes. “Listen, I would finish this conversation, but I need to go back upstairs.”

On my way back to my office, I remember the expression on her face. I wonder if I was too harsh. How many people is it gonna take to lift that woman up off the floor? I’m totally convinced that not even twelve people will be enough. That’s Veron’s friend. Why do I keep fucking up with this girl?

The next morning, Ursula stops by my office again. “I, um, stopped and picked up some pigs-in-a-blanket.”

“You know I don’t eat pig.”

“I know that. You didn’t let me finish. I also got you some of those strawberry-covered donuts that you love and two steaming-hot cups of coffee are sitting on my desk. I can’t possibly eat it all…”

“That’s very thoughtful, Ursula, but I’ll pass.”

A hint of anger flashes in her eyes. “I’m trying so hard with you.”

“And you’re wasting your time.” That was harsh. “I’m just being honest,” I explain as gently as I can.

She folds her arms under her breasts. “You played me!” she screams.

“Please, let’s not start.” I grab both her shoulders, gently shaking some sense into her.

“Hi, Seaphes, hey, Ursula.” Demetria passes by, and I keep my hands on Ursula’s shoulders, not because I want to, but because it will look too obvious if I remove them immediately.

“Now, Ursula, you going to be alright?” I ask, staring at her and ignoring Demetria, whose eyes are burning on me. Ursula just gives me a sad, dejected look. Demetria finally walks on down the hall, shaking her head.

“See,” I tell Ursula, letting her go. “You’ve gots to chill. I appreciate the offer of breakfast, but that’s the past, okay? Can you tell me if you’re gonna be alright with that?”

I don’t wait for her to answer. I’m headed out of my office. This is just great—nothing is ever going to go right on this one.

—18—

D
EMETRIA

“What happened, girl?”
asks
Veron. I’m outside sitting at a picnic table, talking to her on the phone.

“I just think you should know that your catching him hug Ursula wasn’t a onetime thing. This week while you’ve been on vacation, he’s been all over that girl. Your boy lets her bring him breakfast, and he was giving her a back rub right there in the open, so everyone can see that they’re screwing. Vee, why would you want a man who openly disrespects you like that?”

“But two days ago you told me that he misses me.”

“If he missed you so much, why his hands gotta be crawling all over her?”

“Awww, Demetria, he gave me that beautiful white rose. I know he was remorseful. It doesn’t make sense.”

“Sometimes things just don’t make sense, but they still happen.”

“Hmmm,” Vee says. “I guess you’re right. But I am not giving up. I’ll bet that Ursula throws herself at him, and he’s such a gentleman that he’s trying to be polite and not let her down too hard. He told me with his own mouth that he’s dealt with situations like that with other women.”

I start to get angry. This man is disrespectful—he even dared to disrespect me! I tell her, “I know you like him, Vee, but I’m wondering if you’re wasting your time with this one.”

“Well, I really don’t know what to say.”

“Just say no. If he comes up to you next week, lying and trying to sweet-talk you, tell him to fuck off.”

“I’m not going to do that.”

“Why not?”

“Because I’m not that mad. But it sure sounds like you are.”

“What? I’m trying to look out for you. If he screws you over, it’s just like screwing me over. So we’re both screwed as far as I’m concerned.”

“Calm down! Jeez, Demetria, maybe the book would call me a fool, but I want to trust that man.”

I make myself calm down, placing my hand over my chest until my breath gets measured and my heart stops beating wildly. That mutha doesn’t know who he’s dealing with. How can he sit and judge me? He knows nothing about me. I’ve got to make her see that he’s wrong.

“Vee, this man only shows you the sides he wants you to see, but the dickhead part of him is kept hidden.”

“Girl, you make him sound like a monster. I have a bad side that I don’t want to show. I get in bad moods and snap at people, whatever. Seaphes is probably the same way.”

“Believe that fairy tale if you want. I’d rather see you with Ferris than Seaphes.”

“Oh no, mmm mmmm, I want someone like Seaphes way more than Ferris. Oh, speaking of Ferris, he actually called me last night. I didn’t pick up but he left me a voice mail message, singing that song by Klymaxx called ‘I Miss You.’ I love that song, but I wish that Seaphes would’ve left it on my voice mail instead of all those hang ups. Why doesn’t he just talk to me? I mean, sure I was mad at him, but it’s not like I never want to hear from him again.”

“Pricks don’t talk. They just screw you over. That’s why. Wake up, girlfriend. You’ve just landed yourself a high-salaried, educated, SUV-driving asshole.” I’m so mad. Why is she refusing to see the truth? He’s a judgmental bastard. I tell her that I’ll call her back.

I go upstairs and tell my boss that I’m leaving for the day because I’ve got an emergency to deal with at home. And on my way to my crib I think about Seaphes Hill and how men like him convince a lot of women that all men are assholes. And it’s not just a joke, something that someone repeats because they’ve heard someone else say it and wants to make someone laugh. Many women think this, deeply in their hearts. They don’t understand how a man can be so emotionally detached from what is important to a woman.

And so we end up reacting in ways that men don’t like or understand. Because we are trying to protect our hearts, sustain our dignity. But if there’s one thing I want to keep, it’s my power as a woman. I want to show that I can rise above any circumstance no matter how badly it irks me. There’s no way I’m letting this man get to
me
.

When I call Vee that night to continue our conversation, she pleads, “Don’t quit on me now. I still need you. And I want him, too.”

“I know you do, boo,” I tell her. “So let’s rethink this and try to make it work. Actually, you’re in a good position. But we’re not totally there yet. So let me regroup, and I will work my magic on his ass tomorrow. I’ll keep you posted.”

“Sure, do whatever you need to do. I want him to be a different man by the time I get back to work.”

We hang up, but the phone rings again almost immediately. It’s Thaddeus calling to let me know he’s back in town. But I just tell him, “That’s nice,” and then explain to him I’m tired and want to get off the phone. He’s hurt, but not shocked. He knows I always have something going on. In fact, I wouldn’t be surprised if he does something extra special for me, since he has been a bit neglectful lately, doing things like staying gone for days and forgetting to inform me. And his divorce proceedings have been delayed because the court docket is too full. As usual, I roll my eyes and keep things moving. Like with Darren, who washed my feet again, and not only did my feet feel clean and soft, but I could just close my eyes and think of him and get wet.

I remember watching Darren blow hot breath on my feet. My toes curled up, he filled his mouth with hot tea and thick honey, placed his lips against my feet and started sucking on my toes until wetness came gushing out of my vagina. I cried and whimpered as he licked his way up my body, planting sweet kisses on my inner thighs, and kissing all around my cunt, teasing me until I grabbed his head and mashed him against me. “Damn, Darren,” I whispered, and I wept as waves of pleasure washed over me time after time.

I actually didn’t want to see him go that time. I enjoyed having him stick around, turning off his cell, and lying against my breasts, us enjoying some nice pillow talk until we both fell asleep. But when we woke up hours later and I discovered that my desktop computer was acting funny, I had to make him bounce because he “doesn’t know anything about computers,” and I sure know he doesn’t have the money to take me to the computer-repair shop. That burned me up, all that good dick going to waste in a man who can’t do anything for me.

The next day at work, I decide to change strategies and I send Seaphes an IM over the company messaging system.

DESparks:
Can you come see me when you get a moment?

SHill:
What’s this about?

DESparks:
I need your assistance.

SHill:
K.

Seaphes walks in my office a whole freaking hour later, rubbing his eyes and yawning.

“What’s the matter?” I ask. “You had a late night?”

“Not really. I’ve been so tired lately that I overslept today.”

“And you didn’t shave, either. I see some stubble on your chin. Looks nice though.”

“Thanks. Now, how can I help you?”

“You know anything about computers?”

“Sure. What’s wrong with yours?” He approached my desk and glanced at my PC.

“Oh, it’s not the one here. It’s at my house. Can you come take a look tonight? I’ve been working hard on my taxes, and I do not want anything to happen to my files.”

“Hmmm, I dunno.” He hesitates.

“I thought you said you know about computers.”

“What’s it doing?”

“I really can’t describe it. Just come over and take a look.”

“Where you stay?”

I pull up MapQuest on the Internet and print out directions from the office to my house.

“Oh, you want me to come there directly after work? Can’t a brotha go home first, change and shower?”

“Sure, that would be best,” I tell him, smiling.

He winks and starts to leave my office, but then stops. “What’s your phone number?”

I call it out to him but am disappointed that he just writes it down instead of inputting the digits into his phone. He says bye and I let him go without a fuss.

“Okay, girl.” I call Veron. “It’s all set. He’ll be dropping by my place tonight.”

“Wow, you’re good. So what do you plan to do?”

“He and I just got off on the wrong foot. I’ll be putting in a good word for you,” I say. Meanwhile, I’m thinking, I’ll make him forget all about Ursula, that’s for sure.

“I know you will, girl. Thanks. You’re the best. I wish I could be a fly on the wall.”

“Oh, you don’t wanna do that.” I giggle. “Talk later. I’m about to get off work. I need to go home and make sure the place is decent.”

“’K, do your thing.”

My place is sparkling and clean and smelling fresh like usual. I got up an extra two hours early this morning and rubbed down all the walls with Pine-Sol and hot sudsy water before I left for work. I also defrosted some salmon so I could bake it later on and picked up some delicious vegetable dishes from Whole Foods.

After I’m done preparing dinner, I draw a hot bubble bath. My phone beeps twice, indicating I have a voice mail message, but I continue soaping up my vagina with a sponge and squeezing hot water and bubbles on my breasts. It feels so good I almost don’t want to get out of the tub. But I finally make myself get up, pat myself dry with a thick cotton towel, and lay naked on my bed while I listen to the voice mail.

“Hey, Demetria. It’s Seaphes. Something has come up. A family issue. So I won’t be able to swing by. Give me a call so we can reschedule.”

I sit up. “No, he did not.”

I am pissed. I turn off the oven and store the salmon in the refrigerator. Then instead of doing something destructive, I decide to just go to bed early with my headphones attached to my ears. I fall asleep for an hour and a half, but then my bladder wakes me up. I remove the headphones from my ears, then pick up my BlackBerry. Voice mail message. I get it on my way to the bathroom.

“Hey, Demetria, girl. Call me back when you can. I wanna know how things are going.”

“They’re going just perfect,” I say out loud and delete Vee’s message.

Still naked, I use the bathroom and run my fingers through my hair, which is wild and tangled with a bad case of bed head. Suddenly the doorbell rings. I go downstairs and, figuring it’ll be Darren or Thad or someone else coming over to cheer me up, I sleepily open it up without first looking to see who it is.

Seaphes’s eyes pop wide open.

“Oops,” I say and slam the door in his face. I run to my closet to find my silk robe, pulling my arms through the sleeves and twisting the belt around my waist as I run back to the door. When I open it, he’s facing the street.

“Sorry about that. It’s okay to look now.”

He lifts up his chin and walks on into my place.

“Seaphes, I thought you had some emergency. I didn’t expect you to swing by.”

“Well, sorry, things turned out okay, and I called but I guess you fell asleep. I decided to come by anyway since it’s only nine.”

“Whatev.”

He follows me into the house, and I turn on a couple of lights so we can sit in my sunken living room.

“Nice crib.”

“You want some wine? I have some Chablis.”

“What about vodka?”

“Got that, too. Be right back.”

I find some long-stemmed glasses and pour him some Grey Goose.

“Hold up,” I tell him. I light three vanilla candles that are sitting on the mantel of my fireplace.

“Nice. This tastes good,” he says, sipping on his drink.

He sets down his glass and peers at me for a minute. “Your hair.”

I’m not wearing my weave. “Oh, my God, I’ll be right back.”

He stands up. “No, Demetria, no need to do all that. Just relax. Be yourself. Let me see the real you.”

“Well, the real me would have every hair in place.”

“No, she wouldn’t.”

Fuming, I snap, “How do you know what I normally do? Huh? You don’t know me any better than I know you, yet you’ve told me things about myself that have no basis.”

He slowly sits back down and nods. “You’re right. My bad. But I still insist on seeing you natural. I mean, women get so afraid to let a man see if she’s carrying extra baggage, unsightly hair, unpainted toenails.” He glances down at mine. “Ah ha, but not the great Demetria Sparks.”

“Okay,” I say suspiciously. “Tell me something.”

“Go ahead.”

“Why do you have a split personality?”

“I have a split personality?”

“And why do you repeat things? That drives me crazy. It’s like you can’t hear straight or something.”

He laughs out loud and takes another sip. “I’m sorry, no one has ever told me I have a split personality.”

“Maybe I’m using the wrong terminology, but sometimes you seem like a decent man but other times…”

“I act like an asshole?”

“You said it.”

“Look, Demetria, I guess you got hurt when I tried to assess you the other day. But I got the feeling you were fishing for a compliment, and I hate that. If you needed me to tell you that I think you look fine, just ask. I want to do that when I want to do it, not because I’m coerced.”

The light from the candles is hitting Seaphes in just the right way, and he looks hot. I love what he just said, but how do I get him to keep complimenting me? When I say nothing he breaks the silence.

“You just hide behind a curtain that anyone can see through. I didn’t mean to insult you—I was just trying to say that I’ve dated all kinds of women. And all of y’all fall into some basic categories. You, young lady, are no exception.”

I pout, staring at Seaphes. “What you mean?” I whine, trying to be cute.

“Listen,” he says. “If you are feeling me, why don’t you just say so instead of playing all these high school games?”

“I beg your pardon?” I say, standing up. “What nerve. My man is fifty times better than you. I need you to help me with my computer, and believe me, if the stupid thing was working properly you wouldn’t even be sitting inside my house right now. So before you come to more incorrect conclusions, let me show you my office so you can take a look. If you can fix it, fine. If not, no big deal.”

He laughs while I’m fussing, and I want to throw him out on his ass, damn the computer. I wring my hands and start pacing back and forth. “I really think it’s unfair for you to judge me like you have. You’re a hypocrite of the worst kind, because the thing that you accused me of is the thing that you do.”