My Mans Best Friend (9781622860241) (7 page)

BOOK: My Mans Best Friend (9781622860241)
12.63Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads
Essence
“Urrrrhhhh,” my body jerked as my knees dug into the tile of my bathroom floor. The toilet was calling my name, and I answered with heaves. My morning breakfast came up with a force that made my body tremble. Coughing, I tried to pull my hair back so puke wouldn't coat the strands of my long auburn-colored locks. At this point, I wished I had pulled back my hair in a clip so I wouldn't have to fight with it, the toilet, and my puke.
Finally happy that my upchucking was over, I sat on the cold floor, leaning against the wall wondering why I did this to myself. Why was it every time I ate, I felt like I needed to get rid of the food within me? Oh, that's right. I didn't want to be fat. Fat was not an option for me. Fat was my enemy combined with the fear of cellulite, rolls, and public humiliation.
Growing up a chunky kid, I was ridiculed for the way I looked. I was always the big girl with the cute face that my grandparents loved to grip in the palms of their hands.
“You have such a cute face,” they would say like that was the only part which existed of me. I had a body attached to this face, but I guess it wasn't cute by society's standards, nor by my family's.
I didn't see myself as beautiful, which is why I made a promise to myself that as soon as I found a way to get the weight off, I was going to keep it off in order to fall into the category of beautiful. Diets didn't work for me because I loved to eat. Portion control and salads weren't doing it for me. I refused to go on the crack diet. It did seem to work for some family members of mine though. I heard the drug made people skinny, but maybe it was all that running around they did stealing and selling merchandise that keeps their weight down too. Still, I didn't want to resort to such drastic measures.
Back when I was growing up, they didn't have weight-loss surgeries, so I had to suffer through it. And suffer I did. I wanted the weight to simply vanish without me really putting too much effort into it. We all wished for that magic potion that would make you lose pounds in days or even weeks. And it didn't help that I was unlucky enough to inherit the genes of my parents who were considered big boned. Both sides of my family were considered big boned. We were what you called Southern, which meant everything was fried and cooked in a lot of fat and butter. Even corn bread was made to taste like soft slices of cake, and Kool-Aid had enough sugar in it to make two gallons off of one pitcher. Southern was a heritage I loathed, but now I could embrace it with love since I was skinny. I could eat whatever I wanted by just sticking my finger down my throat to make those same delectable calories come shooting back up and not land on my thighs.
I was enjoying fitting into a size five/six jean. My stomach was flat, my tits sat up, and my inner thighs were not rubbing together, ready to catch fire and have everything around me go up in a blaze. I loved myself now, despite the stigma around bulimia. That's why it remained my best friend and also my little secret.
Getting up off the floor, I washed my face and brushed the rancid taste of digested pancakes, bacon, eggs, and fried potatoes out of my mouth. Gargling with mouthwash, I went to my room to get ready to go to the gym to work out.
Laying out my workout clothes, I picked up my cell to see if anyone had called. Four missed calls appeared and three saved messages. Two calls were from Zacariah and two from my mother. Dialing my voice mail, I listened to the messages.
First saved message.

I don't know why you aren't answering your phone. I guess it's because you got you some last night. I'm coming by anyway so you better clean you coochie and kick him to the curb because I will be there soon. And I know you got gym but wait for me. You better wait too, Essence, because I will come down to that gym and embarrass you. I got some juicy info to dish to you. Later girl
.”
Beep.
I didn't feel like fooling with Zacariah this early in the morning. She always seemed to get me vamped up for some reason. I could tell by the urgency in her voice she had some information to tell me even before she said anything.
Second saved message.

Essence, this here is yo' mother, jus' in case you forgots my voice. I haven't heard from yah in quite some time now. I am glad to see yah circular phone number ...”
Circular phone?
I thought.
“... hasn't changed since the last time I spoke to yah. You know it wouldn't hurt for you to pick up a phone and call to see how yo' parents are doing. Better yet, come see us. We still live in the same place, baby. I know you don't likes the country, but this here is where you from and yah shouldn't never forget that 'cause we still here. Just 'cause you city now living hundreds of miles ...” Beep
.
Mama's message was cut off midsentence. I was wondering how long it was going to let her talk. I was happy to hear from her, but at the same time, I cringed at the Southern tone she used. Her words were slow and drawn out, which is why she probably got cut off. But still, that was Mama's style, slow and steady.
Third saved message.

Yo' machine cut me off so I had to call back. I don't know why it did that to me ...”
with me hoping this time she would get out what she wanted to say in this message
. “... but anyway, all I was trying to say is yah living so far away don't mean you can just forget about your dear parents. Baby, we miss you. Give us a call so we can hear your voice and know yah still alive. Baby, life too short so pick up that phone as soon as yah get this message. Call me. I love you. Bye.” Beep
.
I decided now was not a good time and I would have to call her later. I knew if I got on the phone with them, I would be talking for at least an hour. And that would be because I would have to speak with each of them and anyone else who was in the house this day. And it was Saturday. Everybody and their mama were perched up somewhere in Mama's house, and I didn't feel like answering the same questions over and over again.
“What you been up to?”
“How's city life?”
“What's the temperature today?”
“Where you going?”
“You met any celebrity people?”
“You got any sexy friends you can hook me up with?”
“When you coming home?”
I was not trying to go through that right now so I decided to take my shower and get ready to leave so I could work out some of this stress that was building.
After taking my shower and getting dressed, I grabbed my duffle bag to leave. I picked my keys up and headed out the door. Zacariah wasn't here yet, and I wasn't about to wait for her slow behind to show up. Zacariah saying, “I'm coming right over,” meant three hours later.
Walking down the sidewalk, I looked at my keys in my hand to unlock the car when I was taken aback at the sight before my eyes. My mouth fell open and right at that moment an insect saw this as an opportunity to fly into my mouth. I choked, gagging as I tried to cough up the bug and get it out of me. Staring at my car, I looked at it in disbelief. Somebody had covered my car in what looked like petroleum jelly. Hair grease? Who in the hell would do this to me and how in the hell did they manage to come up with so much of it?
Walking closer to my ride, I could see it was smeared on the hood, the door panels, the roof, lights, trunk, and all the windows. A quick blast of water was
not
going to get this off my car. Under the wiper blade sat a white piece of paper. I pulled it out, holding it with the tips of my fingers, trying not to get the substance on my hand.

Since you like screwing people over, I thought I would give you some lubricant to help you with that. Watch your back, trick.”
What was this all about, and who did this? I hadn't screwed anybody over. Maybe Zacariah, but not me. Maybe this person got me confused with her or somebody else. I was hoping so, but if they did get it right, I didn't have any clue about who could have done this tome.
Kea
What better way to find out about Jaquon's goings-on than to talk to the main person he claimed to be with all the time? After arriving home, I couldn't stand being in the same place with him. He was acting like things were cool with us. His “I don't give a damn” attitude ticked me off a lot, and I refused to live like this. If he wanted somebody other than me, than he needed to go. But today, I chose to leave.
I knew Derrick didn't want to meet me because like any man, he didn't want to get involved. I called and practically begged him to meet me at a local donut shop. Derrick stuttered over his words, looking for every reason not to meet me, but I knew my tear-filled voice persuaded him.
Entering the facility, the sweet smell of the donuts engulfed me. I instantly became high with excitement about eating one of these warm pastries. For a second, I almost forgot why I was here. Looking around, I saw Derrick sitting toward the back of the establishment. I went to the counter and ordered two glazed donuts and a cup of hot chocolate before going over to him.
Looking at Derrick's dark mocha skin and neat close cut tapered to perfection made my heart flutter a bit. I had never had this reaction to him before, but seeing him looking more handsome than ever flipped a switch within me that I didn't think could be turned on by another man.
“Have some,” I said, trying to break the awkwardness of our meeting. I didn't know why it was awkward. I had known Derrick for a long time, so this shouldn't have been as uncomfortable as it felt.
“No, thank you. I just ate two myself.”
“I was really hoping you were going to say no anyway,” I said smiling.
He smiled back saying, “You know those things are addictive.”
“I know, right? Especially when they're warm. These just came out too,” I said looking down at the glazed bread. I picked one up and bit into it. The taste made me close my eyes in tantalizing delight.
“Good, isn't it?” he asked.
“Too good. I think I could eat a dozen of these things, but I know I don't need the extra pounds.”
“A little weight won't hurt you,” he said watching me lick the glaze off my fingers. Just the thought of him watching me made me wonder what he was thinking. Then I thought I knew what he was thinking as I removed my wet index finger from my mouth. This was too much like ... like ... Well, you know.
I picked up a napkin wiping my hands.
“Derrick, I'm glad you came to meet me.”
“Well, you really didn't give me a choice in the matter.”
“Sorry for the tears, but I really needed to talk to you.”
“I know this has to do with my man, so what do you want to talk about?” he asked getting to the point.
I lowered my head trying to build up the courage to ask him these questions I had to know the answers to.
“You have known me for quite a while now, and I hope we have become good friends.”
I looked to him for confirmation, and he said nothing, but his nod gave me the answer I wanted. So I continued.
“I know we are not close as you and Jaquon, but I hope you know I'm not a bad person.”
“I know this, Kea,” he said leaning with his elbows on the table.
“I need to know one thing. Is Jaquon cheating on me again?”
Derrick lowered his head shaking it.
“I know he's your best friend, and you don't want to betray his trust, but I have to know. Please tell me,” I said with pleading eyes, which he was trying to avoid.
“Did you ask him?” Derrick questioned.
“You know I have, and he denies it. He denied it when he was cheating before so why would he start telling the truth now? To be honest, I don't know if I can bring myself to believe anything coming out of his mouth.”
“Kea, I don't want to be involved in this,” he said genuinely.
“Just tell me. Shake your head yes or no, anything to help me decide what I need to do.”
“What does your gut tell you? Deep down, I know your womanly instinct has already given you the answer you're seeking.”
“I'm scared that my paranoid state could have a lot to do with my gut, Derrick.”
“Is that what Jaquon is telling you?”
I nodded.
“Kea, you know the answer already. I don't have to be the one to confirm or deny this. What do you feel?”
“I feel he is cheating on me again. What are you going to tell me?”
“You are putting me in a bad situation. I can't believe you expect me to help destroy what you all have.”
“So are you saying he is?” I asked.
“That's not what I said, Kea,” he replied nervously.
“Derrick, you are not helping in the destruction of what Jaquon and I have. He's doing a good job of that all by himself.”
“So why do you need me? I can't betray my friend.”
“I'm going to take this as you having something terrible to tell me,” I said complacently.
“Again, I say, go with your gut. You're a smart, beautiful woman. You know what you need to do.”
“Was he at your house last night?” I asked like he didn't say anything.
“Yes,” Derrick said nodding.
“What time did he get there?”
“I'm not sure.”
“Was it late?”
“Yes,” he said.
“Were you out with him?” I asked not wanting to give him the opportunity to think of a lie.
“No.”
“I knew it. He told me he was with you all night.”
“He was, but it was earlier, so he's not lying about that.”
“Don't lie for him, Derrick. That's not your style.”
He nodded.
“He's lying again. I know it, and I'm sick and tired of dealing with his games,” I said getting upset. I covered my face with my hands trying to calm my nerves and will the tears back into their ducts. Dropping my hands to my lap I said, “Why does it have to be like this, Derrick? Why can't he just love me and be true to me?”
“I don't know. But what I do know is you deserve to be happy.”
“But I'm not. I'm miserable.”
“So put yourself first for once in your life.”
“But it's so hard,” I said with my voice cracking.
“I've been where you are. Zacariah stepped out on me, but I gave her another chance,” he said.
“And you trust her?”
He looked around as if the answer were going to fall out of the sky.
“Not fully,” he said turning back to look at me.
“So why are you with her?” I asked finally taking a sip of my now-warm cocoa.
“I'm with her the same reason you're with Jaquon.”
“Love,” I said nodding.
“We've been through a lot together, and I guess another reason I might stay with her is fear. I've been with her for so long now, I don't know how to be by myself. I don't feel like getting back into the dating scene.”
“That's how I feel.”
“Kea, you don't need me to help you with this. Regardless of what I say, you're still going to be with Jaquon. You've proven this already when you caught him before.”
“You're right,” I said, looking down at my half-eaten donut.
“Jaquon has done some trifling things in his past, but one thing I do know is that he loves you. He may not show it like he should, but I know he does care for you deeply. You're the best thing that has happened to him.”
“Derrick, I'm really not feeling the love right now.”
“Talk to him. Hear him out and go from there.”
I finally got the courage to look Derrick in his face after looking at everything but him during our conversation. Most of the time I spent twirling my fingers and looking out the window or at my donuts, but this time, I wanted to look into his eyes which represented a genuine spirit I wished Jaquon had.
“Why us?” I asked.
“What do you mean?”
“Why did we choose individuals who cheat on us? Why couldn't we find each other since the two of us are the ones remaining true?”
He smiled saying, “Jaquon lucked out and got to you before I did.”
“I wish I would've met you first, Derrick. I know I wouldn't be going through what I'm going through now.”
We stared at each other a few seconds too long before Derrick broke the connection.
“Okay. I think it's time for me to go, that's if you don't have anything else you want to talk to me about.”
“Nawh. We're good. I appreciate you speaking with me.”
“It's all good. I hope things work out for you. Remember what I said. Try making yourself happy first and everything else will come together.”
BOOK: My Mans Best Friend (9781622860241)
12.63Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

Other books

A Place to Call Home by Deborah Smith
Unexpected Guest by Agatha Christie
Sultry Sunset by Mary Calmes
Darkest Love by Melody Tweedy
A New Dawn Rising by Michael Joseph
Plastic by Sarah N. Harvey
Lights to My Siren by Lani Lynn Vale
Operation Inferno by Eric Nylund
Click by Tymber Dalton