Waiting to Exhale (44 page)

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Authors: Terry McMillan

Tags: #African American Studies, #Arizona, #Social Science, #Phoenix (Ariz.), #Contemporary, #General, #Romance, #African American women, #Female friendship, #Ethnic Studies, #African American, #Fiction, #African American men, #Love Stories

BOOK: Waiting to Exhale
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"They're in the bottom drawer, where they always were," I said. "And what's with the nasty tone? I haven't done anything to you."

"I know it," he said, in the same tone. "I'm just not sure about this shit."

"What shit?"

"Me being here under these circumstances and all, when what I really need to do is be by myself so I can think straight. I can't take coming in here and being pressured about what I'm doing or not doing with my wife."

"I'm not pressuring you, Russell. I just asked you a simple question, which I think I have a right to have answered. Don't you?"

"Look. I'm trying to work this out, okay?"

"Okay," I said. "Now come on and get in the bed."

He looked in the bottom drawer and put his pajamas on, then got under the covers.

"I'm going to Tucson on Friday morning. I'm staying down there all next week."

"Is it your daddy?"

"Well, really it's my mother. She's not doing so good. Anyway, I need to be there."

"Is there anything you want me to do while you're gone?"

"Just water the plants."

"I can do that. Good night," he said, and gave me a bullshit kiss on the lips with no tongue, then rolled over to his side of the bed. A few minutes later, he was snoring so loud, I couldn't even think about sleeping.

The phone rang. I knew who it was. "Hello," I said in a low voice.

"Robin, what's up?" Troy said.

"Nothing," I said. "I'm in bed. Can I call you tomorrow?"

"Yeah," he said. "Say something sexy to me, baby?"

"I can't."

"Why not? You got somebody over there?"

"No."

"Don't lie to me, Robin."

"I'm not."

"Then say something nasty."

I hung the phone up. I figured he'd get the message.

"Who was that?" Russell said, scaring the daylights out of me.

"Savannah."

"I suggest you tell your boyfriends not to call here after eleven," he said, and rolled back over.

He's jealous. That's a real good sign. I felt a grin emerge on my face, and I sat there for at least another fifteen or twenty minutes. Then I had to go to the bathroom, so I got up. I closed the door behind me. Russell's clothes were still on the floor. I threw his jeans over my arm, and when I picked up the shirt I smelled something. I brought it to my nose and sniffed. The whole right side of the collar and the sleeve smelled like Eternity. I didn't want to, but before I knew it, I grabbed his briefs and turned them inside out. I looked at the crotch. There was no sign of anything unusual. I smelled the shirt again. It was Eternity, all right, and I don't wear Eternity. I threw all of his clothes back to the floor and kicked them into a corner.

I flushed the toilet, got back in bed, and looked over at this asshole. I'm so glad I didn't tell Michael that Russell was back. I can see he's not serious. He's trying to pull the same old shit. But I'm not taking it this time. I mean it.

Wait a minute! Hold it! Don't be so stupid, Robin. She was probably crying on his shoulder or something, being melodramatic. Begging him to come back. That's why his shirt smells like this. Could he help it if she got close to him? She probably did this on purpose, knowing I'd smell it when he got home. That I'd be pissed off and maybe he'd go running back to Her. Well, I wasn't falling into her trap.

I turned on my side and pressed my breasts against Russell's back, dropped my arm over his torso, then wrapped my hand around his right wrist. I could feel his bones. When I gave his wrist a little squeeze, I thought he'd feel my body heat and snuggle a little closer, but instead he lifted my hand up, put it back on the sheet between us, and moved closer to the edge of the bed. He must really be tired.

Chapter
21

Waiting to Exhale (1992)<br/>DRUNK

"We should drag her butt out of the house," Robin said.

"I dare you to try it," Savannah said, then laughed.

"You know we can't get her fat ass to go anywhere, so why don't we take a few bottles of champagne over to her house, get a birthday cake, order a pizza or something, and help her celebrate." This was Bernadine. Miss Levelheaded these days.

"Sounds good to me," Savannah said. She took one last sip of her coffee and put her cigarette out. They were having lunch indoors at a sidewalk cafe. Savannah couldn't believe that it was the end of
September and 103 degrees outside. It was humid as hell, but it beat the frost that was probably on the ground in Denver right now.

"You're still not smoking?" Savannah asked Bernadine.

"Nope. Haven't had a cigarette in almost three months. And don't want one, either."

"How'd you do it?" Savannah asked.

"I just quit."

"This girl in my office went to an acupuncturist," Robin said.

"Did it work?" Savannah asked.

"She hasn't had a cigarette since. She swears by it. So," Robin said. "Does this mean we're having a hen party?"

"Why, will it kill you?" Bernadine said.

"Go to hell, Bernie. I just asked."

"Have you guys noticed how weird Gloria's been acting?"

"I have," Robin interjected. "Ever since Phillip got those shingles. I think something's up. Whatever it is, she's not talking about it."

"Let's go in one car," Bernadine said.

"Yeah, let's go in your BMW!"

"Fuck you, Robin," Bernadine said, and started laughing.

"Are we splitting this check or what?" Robin asked.

"No, we should make you pay it," Savannah said.

Robin looked at the bill. "Ten apiece."

Bernadine and Savannah put their money on the table. Robin picked it up, put it in her wallet, and dropped her company's American Express card on the table. "I'm broke," she said. After the waiter took care of it, they all got up and walked out into the hot sun.

"Wait!" Robin yelled at Savannah and Bernadine, who'd gone on ahead of her. "What about birthday presents?"

"Oh, shit," Bernadine said. "I forgot all about that. Yeah. Let's each get her something. And, Robin, please wrap it."

"Go to hell, Bernie," she said. "How old is she gonna be?"

"Thirty-eight," Savannah said. She and Bernadine turned past a building into the parking lot.

Robin stepped off the curb and got into her car. She removed the window shade and turned the radio on. Paula Abdul was singing. I don't care what Savannah thinks, she thought. This girl can sing.

They had begged Gloria not to be at work, the grocery store, the mall, or any other place except home by eight o'clock. She knew they had something up their sleeve. Gloria could use a little pick-me-up. She'd been depressed ever since Phillip got sick. She still didn't have a replacement for Desiree, and yesterday Cindy had told her she was accepted at court-reporting school. She'd be going full time, starting in January. Gloria was trying to deal with all this. Trying to figure out how she'd get three replacements. She and Joseph wouldn't be able to run the shop by themselves for too long. She didn't know if and when Phillip was coming back. Nor did she want to talk about this with her girlfriends. It was her problem, not theirs.

Her pressure was up too: 190/140. Almost stroke level. She'd gone to the doctor three days before, and Gloria swore up and down she felt fine. The doctor told her there weren't usually any symptoms. He said exactly what Gloria anticipated he'd say: that she needed to lose some weight, needed to stop eating salt and foods high in sodium, and to avoid cholesterol altogether.

Tarik said he didn't want to be in a house full of old women. He asked if he could go to the arcade with Bryan. "Midnight," Gloria told him, "and not a minute later." He promised he'd be back before then and kissed her on the cheek.

This morning he had knocked on her bedroom door. She told him to come in, since she was under the covers. "Happy Birthday, Ma," he said, and handed her a package she could tell somebody else had wrapped. She was glad he remembered. She opened the package and he'd done one of those numbers where there were four boxes, one inside the other, until she finally got to the smallest one. In it was a pair of mother-of-pearl earrings shaped like birds. They were pretty. Gloria never wore this kind of jewelry, but she slipped them in her ears and told Tarik she'd always wanted some like these.

Now she was waiting for her girlfriends to show up. They'd told her "not to do a thing." Leave everything to them. Gloria was trying, but she couldn't sit still and do nothing for ten minutes, let alone a half hour, so she started reorganizing bottles of cologne on her dresser. She moved the Paris in front of the Ysatis. When she noticed a bottle of Anais Anais was almost empty, she threw it in the trash. She had dusting powders galore, because she sweated so bad. She decided to take them into her bathroom, then changed her mind and brought it all back and put them where they originally were. "This is ridiculous," she said, and went down to the living room.

She heard a car pull up, and she heard the music. Sometimes Gloria couldn't believe her girlfriends were all around the same age as she was. She felt much older than they were-especially Robin. Maybe because she was the only one with a teenager. Sometimes they acted like they were still in their twenties. She didn't see anything wrong with having so much energy, and Gloria often wished she had their spirit. But that was something you either had or didn't have. Gloria knew she didn't have much. She opened the front door and walked outside to meet them.

"
Happy birthday
!
" they yelled in unison.

"Thank you, thank you, thank you," Gloria said.

They were pulling bags out of the trunk. Marvin was watering his grass. He waved from across the street.

"Who's that?" Robin asked.

"That's my neighbor. Marvin."

"Watch out!" Robin said.

Gloria spotted a white box that she knew had to be a cake. This was so thoughtful of them, she thought, as they led the way inside. She followed them but first checked to see if Marvin was still there. He was. Gloria waved again.

"Where's the party?" Robin asked, once they got inside.

"Where's the music?" Savannah asked.

"Let's get this party moving," Bernadine said.

Savannah made another trip to the car, came back with three presents and another grocery bag. She dropped the bag on the coffee table, pulled out birthday hats, little horns, and party favors. Gloria was tickled.

"Well, what are you waiting on, Gloria? Go get us some glasses," Robin said.

Savannah was fumbling with Gloria's stereo. She'd brought he
r l
atest CDs, and the girl only had a tape deck. "You mean to tell me you own your own hair salon and you're too cheap to break down and buy a CD player?"

"I've got tapes that sound just as good as a CD. Why should I waste my money?" Gloria yelled from the kitchen.

"Gloria, this is the nineties, girl. Get with it. Let me see what kind of tired music you have down here."

Savannah and Robin both got on their knees and started going through one old tape after another. "Wait a minute," Robin said. "Look at these. Real albums! When was the last time you bought some music?"

Gloria came back in with four wineglasses. "I don't know. Tarik buys most of the music. He keeps it in his room. But I don't touch his stuff."

"Well," Robin said, "I haven't made Tarik any promises."

"Every tape the boy has is rap or hip hop. I have to listen to that shit enough as it is, so I'd appreciate a break from it tonight. Especially since it's my birthday!" she said.

"Now you're getting some life into your big ass," Bernadine said.

"We started to get one of those male strippers," Savannah said.

"Why didn't you?" Gloria said.

"Because to tell the truth, we'da probably raped his ass, considering our condition."

"Your condition couldn't possibly be as bad as mine," Gloria said.

"I think my pussy's dead," Bernadine said.

"What happened to Vincent?" Gloria asked.

"Who's Vincent?" Robin asked.

"Nobody," Bernadine said. "I had to get rid of him. He turned out to be a big baby."

"Well, mine is mad at me. Once again, I broke down and gave Kenneth some. For the last time, I swear to God," Savannah said, looking at Bernadine. Bernadine eyed her back, as if to say, "So what."

"Well, mine is in good working condition," Robin said. "I try to get a tune-up at least once a week."

"From who?" Gloria asked. "Or should we take a wild guess?"

"Not from Russell. He's out of my life. For good."

"Bullshit," Bernadine said. "Anyway, let's pour some of this champagne and toast to Gloria's thirty-eighth birthday."

Savannah tried to pop the cork.

"Oh, oh, ladies! You won't believe this. Guess what I found over here?" Robin said.

"What?" Savannah asked.

"Rick James!"

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