My Mans Best Friend (9781622860241) (6 page)

BOOK: My Mans Best Friend (9781622860241)
10.18Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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Kea
The sun did beat Jaquon home. When I got up to get dressed for the day, he was not in bed next to me. My stomach felt like bees were buzzing around in it, stinging me every time I took a breath, but I couldn't cry. My tear ducts had dried up. I had been crying so much my eyes were swollen. I really couldn't open them much. They felt like weights were pressing down on them. Looking in the mirror in the bathroom, I stared at my reflection thinking,
What is wrong with you? You are a beautiful woman and can do better than Jaquon. Why do you feel you have to stay with him?
I answered my own question speaking, “It's because I love him.”
I watched my lips move, repeating those words over and over again. “It's because I love him.” I didn't know why I loved him so much. All he did was hurt me. What did I do for him not to want to be with me? I really couldn't see myself without him. And I knew once those keys jingle in the door, I was going to be so happy he was finally home, thinking,
He chose to come home to me. Whoever she was, it didn't matter because he still came home to me.
However, it was the next day, and whoever she was, she had him all night while I slept alone.
Still staring at my reflection, I shook my head at my excuses.
It's because I love him.
The voice inside me said
, When are you going to start loving yourself?
I shrugged, watching my shoulders almost touch my earlobes. I started to run some warm water in the white porcelain sink. I had to wash the residue of salty tears off my face which was incased by it, like I slept with a facial mask on all night. With pores tight, I dipped the washcloth in the soothing water and gently rubbed it across my face. With each stroke, I felt renewed. Afterward, I ran cold water over the cloth and placed it over my eyes to help with the swelling. I couldn't go meet my sister looking like this.
I didn't feel like being around my sister today. I was supposed to meet her at the bridal shop to try on my bridesmaid dress one last time before her wedding next Saturday. Instead, I wanted to crawl back under my blue cotton sheets and relax all day. I was in no mood to feel happy about her getting married to a great guy who owned his own home and had lots of money. Every time I went around her, she talked about how happy she was and how this had to be the wedding of her dreams. I knew I was supposed to be happy for her, but my life was not a cakewalk like hers. We lived totally different lives. I had issues going on and to see her breeze through life like things were peaches and cream disgusted me.
After showering, doing my hair, and eating a bowl of cereal, I began to get dressed. Soon as I snapped on my last bracelet, the phone rang.
“Hello.”
“Hey, Kea, this is Derrick.”
“I guess you calling to tell me Jaquon was with you all night.”
“Yeah, he stayed with me. If you don't believe me, ask Zacariah when you see her next time. You know she will not lie for Jaquon. She can't stand him.”
“That's all well and good, Derrick, but he stayed out all night long again and I could care less if he was sleeping at your house or in an alley somewhere. Jaquon should have came home.”
“Kea—” Derrick called out, but I continued to take my frustration out on him.
“I'm tired of his crap. He like's sleeping over there so much, then maybe he should move over there permanently.”
“I know he needs to get himself together,” he said before I cut him off again.
“Why are you calling for him anyway? Why couldn't he be man enough to call me himself? Is he trying to get a feel on the type of mood I'm in? Well, you can tell him I'm pissed the hell off.”
“I just called to tell you he was on his way home. I don't know why he didn't call you himself. He told me to give you a ring, so I did.”
“Well, thank you for calling me, Derrick.”
“Anytime. And Kea?”
“Yes, Derrick?”
“Don't hurt my boy too bad,” he said laughing.
A few minutes later those keys I had been longing to hear jingled in the door lock. My heart kicked up some beats, and I almost ran to him, but I didn't. I wasn't going to be nipping at his heels like I always did, wrapping my arms around his neck, then arguing with him about where he's been all night.
Hearing the screeching of the door hinges, the door opened, and then closed. I heard Jaquon call out to me. “Baby, where are you?”
I didn't answer.
“Kea, baby, are you here? You got to be here because your car is still outside.”
The more he spoke, the closer I could tell he was getting to me.
“There you are,” he said, coming over to me with one hand behind his back. He tried to kiss me on the cheek, but I stepped back before his lips could touch me. He paused, looking at the side of my face before backing away. I didn't say anything.
“Damn, you look good,” he said with his eyes roving up and down my body. “You smell good too. What's that fragrance again?” he asked in his joking manner, and I continued to ignore him.
“I brought you some flowers,” he said bringing his hand from around his back, holding a dozen yellow-stemmed roses. He held them out to me, but I didn't bother to take them.
“Baby, I know you're mad at me.”
I paused and looked at him like, “Duh,” still saying nothing.
“So you're going to give me the silent treatment now?”
Still nothing.
“I'm getting scared because this is unusual for you. Your mouth should be running a mile a minute by this time.”
Still I said nothing, rolling lip gloss on my lips.
“Baby, say something,” he pleaded putting the flowers on the bed and trying to pull me toward him. I pushed his hands off of me and went to the closet to get my shoes.
“Where are you going?”
“Out,” I said, finally speaking.
“But I just got here.”
“And?”
“Baby, I'm sorry for not coming home last night. I got drunk with the fellas and ...”
“... you stayed with Derrick because you couldn't drive. He called me like you told him to. It still doesn't explain you not being in our bed last night and how your fingers couldn't pick up the phone to dial our number.”
“I did call, but you started arguing with me.”
“Because you weren't here with me,” I snapped. “I'm sick and tired of you getting off of work every Friday and not showing your face until the next day. I'm also tired of you getting your boy to do your dirty work. And to be honest, I'm starting to get sick and tired of your cheating ass.”
“I'm not cheating. I was trying to get here as soon as possible.”
“Soon as possible should have been last night,” I stated, “with me.”
“You're right, baby, and I'm apologizing.”
“Jaquon, I have heard it all before, remember? I have numerous lines logged into my memory, along with all the hurtful things you have ever done to me. And right now, my gut is telling me you are lying yet again, and that you were with a woman last night. You probably did stay with Derrick, but at some point last night you had your dick buried deep in some trick.”
“Baby, come on. I know I hurt you in the past, and I promised you I wouldn't do that again,” he said actually sounding like he meant it.
“And if you think calling me from a pay phone was supposed to smooth things over, you must have fallen and bumped your damn head because I don't believe your cell phone went dead.”
“My phone did go dead,” he said. “That's another reason why I couldn't call you.”
I looked at him like he was stupid. Walking over to the nightstand, I picked up my phone and dialed his number. His cell phone rang. I looked at him, and his face fell to the floor. His chin was deeply tucked in his chest while he tried to think of another lie.
“Dead, huh?”
“It was, until I charged it. Derrick has the same phone I do.”
“And you used his cord to charge your phone, right?”
“Yes.”
“You were too drunk to drive home. You were too drunk to call me. But I'm supposed to believe you were sober enough to remember to plug your damn phone in and charge it?”
“Yes. No. I mean ... Baby, you're confusing me,” he said.
“People who lie get confused, Jaquon, and you are a straight up liar,” I stated, getting madder each second that passed that he was near me.
“Kea, I know you think I was cheating.”
“Did you?” I asked with arms crossed.
“No, I didn't. I was with the guys.”
“Sure you were. You know what? I'm too pissed to talk to you right now. You come strolling up in here like things between us is all good, but they aren't. If you want me to be wooed by your flowers and want me to throw my arms around your neck, happy you finally came home to me, it's not going to happen this time. What I should have done was wait at the door to issue you a can of Whoop Ass before I gave you your walking papers.”
“Don't do this.”
“I'm furious, but I'm not going to trip. I'm not going to mess up my makeup fighting with you. I got somewhere to be.”
“Baby, where you going?”
“If you were here like a man should be with his woman at night, then you would know. But since you're acting like my
roommate
, you'll get no information from me.” I picked up my keys, tossed my purse over my shoulder, and left him standing there bewildered.
Kea
Pulling in front of the bridal shop, I practically jumped out of my vehicle before it stopped moving. I rushed into the place, yanking open the double glass doors to get in. Looking around, I saw my sister Emory talking with one of her bridesmaids.
“Sorry I'm late. I got held up,” I said.
“You're almost an hour late, Kea. You barely caught me.”
“I know, Emory, but I told you I got held up.”
“It must have been Jaquon,” she said turning her lips up at me.
I looked at her not wanting to explain anything. I guess from the expression on my face she knew to leave it alone.
“Okay, I will not go there with you today. It's about me now. So let's get started,” she said pulling me by the arm, taking me to the woman handling the order.
“Now you know each of you have chosen a different style of gown, but all of them are the same color.”
“I remember,” wishing I could forget.
“I can't wait for you to try yours on because it is gorgeous. I saw it when she took out the other dresses.”
Looking around at the many women smiling as they tried on their dresses, I followed Emory to our section where we had our own salesperson to help us. Three other bridesmaids were there already trying on their dresses, happy with the selection they had chosen.
I was late that day too when we came here to pick out our gowns. Again, everybody was there trying on dresses and it looked like all the best ones had been chosen. I was mad because each of them had on gowns that were my style. If I would've gotten there earlier, I would have beaten them to the punch in choosing the dress I wanted. Instead I had to search for one that was not old-fashioned. I didn't want any puffs, lace, and bows on my bootie. I wanted sleek and elegant. I searched the rows of gowns and found one that was to die for. I took it down, happy it was in my size, nine. No bows and no frilly chiffon. Putting the gown up against me looking in the mirror, I knew this was the one. Checking my color choices, it did come in lilac.
Having this be my final time to try on this dress before the wedding next Saturday, I went into the rather large dressing stall. I proceeded to undress and slipped on my garment. Emory kept peeping in at me like I didn't know how to dress myself. I told her to stay out. Zipping the side, it fit like a glove. I turned to see the bootie I was blessed with sit high on my back and hips with enough curves to see them from the back and the front. I came out of the dressing room, and Emory's mouth fell open.
“That dress looks fabulous on you,” she said beaming. “I wish you didn't have all that ghetto bootie though,” she said looking at it like it made her sick.
“I don't know why you trippin' because you got the same ghetto butt,” I struck back.
Everybody around us laughed.
“I do, but not like the one you got on your back. You've been getting way too much protein.”
“And it does the body good,” I said, slowly descending my hands down my body.
“You are
so
nasty,” Emory threw out.
“You said it, I didn't.”
“Turn around and let me get a full view,” she said twirling me around.
I took off walking like I was modeling designer clothing at fashion week. When I turned, I snapped my fingers and said, “Diva is here.” Laughter filled the air, and it felt good to not think about my problems for a little while.
“I'm so glad you picked this one,” Emory said to me.
A pair of rhinestone-studded strapped shoes made the garment complete. They were cute, yet sexy, with three-inch heels. I had to walk around in them to make sure they were comfortable. I didn't want to be standing at the front of the church mad because my feet hurt. They were comfortable.
We finished after an hour of dresses, shoes, flower girl, and Emory also picked up her veil and tiara with her gown. Now, we were finally on our way. Each of the bridesmaids kissed Emory on the cheek, telling her they would see her at the bachelorette party which they were having in a couple of days. I tried to leave like everybody else, but Emory called out to me.
“Wait a minute, Kea. I want to talk to you.”
What is it now?
I thought.
“You know I love you and ...”
Oh boy, here we go. This can't be good.
“... and I don't mean to get all up in your Kool-Aid, but I got to ask you something.”
“Ask away,” I said smiling sheepishly.
“Where did you get those scars on your back from? I noticed them when I walked in on you dressing.”
“What are you talking about?”
“You know exactly what I'm talking about, Kea. Is Jaquon putting his hands on you, because if he is, we need to call—”
“Jaquon isn't crazy, Emory! I may put up with him cheating on me, but I be damn if I let a man put his hands on me,” I exclaimed, getting angry at the thought.
“Then how did you get them?” she asked sincerely.
“I don't know. Maybe I fell into something,” I replied, looking at her like she didn't know.
“Sounds like you making excuses for that man of yours.”
“He didn't do this,” I protested.
“I don't believe you, but there's nothing I can do about it since you're denying it. But I tell you one thing. If that man is putting his hands on you, you need to leave him.”
“Did you not hear what I just said or are you just playing stupid?”
Here she was trying to be this caring sister that she never was to me. I was trying to figure out when we lost that sister bond, and then it occurred to me. Childhood. We were siblings, but only by blood and not by emotions. We loved each other, but it was this unspoken pain between us that neither of us ever wanted to discuss. Especially Emory. Ms. Goody Two-shoes knew exactly where these bruises came from, but she must have blocked remembering all the abuse. Yes, she was above my level in intelligence, beauty, importance, and I can name a few more, but that was because Mother put her there.
Emory was the favorite one, and she knew this. Sometimes it bothered her, but sometimes she acted just like our mother with that better-than attitude. I never knew which sister would show up when I got with her. It used to be she would at least try to salvage the closeness Mother tried so hard to separate between us, but lately, each day that passed revealed Emory following in Mother's footsteps more and more. Everything had to be in place with her and her home. Everything had to be expensive. Everything had to represent money. Those were the qualities of Mother. I just prayed she wouldn't pick up some of Mother's other demeaning ways.
If we wanted to talk about looking rich, my dear mother's picture would pop up if you googled her. She always looked exquisite on the outside. But her spirit was that of the devil. She was pure evil, and I was the demon-child she never wanted, and she never hid the fact that she hated me. Sometimes I wished she'd aborted me. Every time she spoke to me, something negative spewed from her mouth.
You have to get good grades, Kea.
Don't have sex before marriage, Kea.
Sit up straight, Kea.
Smile like you mean it, Kea.
Why can't you be more like your sister, Kea?
I wish you were never born, Kea.
You are never going to be anything, Kea.
Every word out of that woman's mouth seemed like a critique to be this vision of perfection that she never would see me as anyway. Why else would every word that came out of her mouth be used to destroy me? The only thing missing to make us abide by her rules were the wire hangers, and even then, she found other objects to get results.
Every time I saw Mother, she would brush my clothes, removing invisible lint from them. She would brush my hair away from my face, push her open hand into my back to straighten it up, and put her finger under my chin to lift my head higher.
“You need to be more like your sister,” she would say. “Do you see how fabulous she is? She's getting married to a wonderful man and has a rewarding career. All you have to show for yourself is a degree, a thug, and an inkling of your sister's beauty.”
Talk about uplifting the spirits of a daughter. She might as well have been screaming
ugly, stupid, fat,
and
worthless
to me. I knew I was none of these things, but having to deal with my mother's unattainable standards was too much for me to deal with. After the last time visiting her, I told myself I would never make an effort to see her again. That was the last time she thought I needed lashes across my body like a slave from the past as she tried to make me into this person I knew I could never be in her eyes because she hated me. I think she enjoyed humiliating me. And every time she demeaned me, I swore I could see a smirk on her face, like she enjoyed inflicting pain upon me.
The only thing positive about going to her house of horrors was my father. He was there, and I loved him dearly. If it wasn't for him, I wouldn't bother to see Mother at all. But since he was still her husband, I had no choice but to continue to visit the mother from hell.
Looking at my sister Emory, I just smiled. She knew deep down where my bruises came from. Maybe Emory was waiting for me to tell her. But this was something she already knew of. Even if I told her, what could she do about it? All Emory knew how to do was walk the straight and narrow playing little Ms. Goody Two-shoes, pretending the things in her life were majestic. I loved her with all my heart, but I knew one day her perfect little world would come crashing down. I just hoped Emory would be strong enough to handle the devastation after her collapse.
BOOK: My Mans Best Friend (9781622860241)
10.18Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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