After The Dance (37 page)

That’s when Nigel—I mean Squirrel—jumped all in the mix with, “Man, you know you oughta stop telling that tale. Ever since you and Red fell out with one another, you ain’t been doing nothing ’sides laying around here whining, pining, and wearing the grooves out on all of them old dusty Al Green albums you got.”

I stopped pacing the floor long enough to look at that fool and say, “Keep on, hear. I’d hate to have to up and whup your ass in front of company.”

Nora said, “Carl, I know you’re upset, but if you’d just calm down for a sec, I think I could explain to you how that whole situation with the kid transpired.”

I threw up my arms and was like, “Hello! News flash! Being that I do have three of my own, I think I pretty much know everything I need to about how that whole thing with the kid transpired.”

Nora invited herself to a seat next to me and said, “Don’t play, Carl. You know damn well that’s not what I meant.” Then, looking all serious and teary-eyed, she took both of my hands into her own and squeezed them before she said, “She wanted to tell you, Carl. Really, and I’m sure she would have had things not gotten so muddled early on between the two of you. But what you need to try and understand is that very few people in Faye’s inner circle
know that this child even exists. The shame and secrecy of it all is something I’ve watched her struggle with for years. Hell, it’s been over a decade and to this day she still hasn’t found a way to tell her folks.”

Squirrel butted in with a “Yeah, go on and cut the girl some slack, dog. Ain’t like none of that mess you did behind Bet’s back while y’all was married was any less foul.” Before I could fix my mouth to cuss him out, he picked up my phone and tossed it to me and said, “Call her up, why don’t you? From what I understand, she and ol’ boy done already went their separate ways. Ain’t that right, Nora?”

She nodded and said, “Umm-hmm. I don’t know what you waiting on. You know she’s had you sprung since that first night y’all hooked up to watch videos.”

Determined to stand my ground, I shook my head and told them both, “Nope. Not gonna happen. Not this time around. If Faye wants to make things right, she knows where and how to find me. Until then, I’d kindly appreciate the two of you leaving me the hell alone to enjoy all of my musty, dusty Al Green albums in peace and by my damn self!”

On her way out the door, Nora pulled up short, cocked her head to one side, and said, “Al Green, huh? You know, Faye listens to him a lot these days. Marvin too. And for some reason here lately, that
After the Dance
track is one she can’t hardly seem to get enough of.”

I was milling around in the bakery section of the grocery store the other night, trying to decide if I was in the mood for the chocolate doughnuts or the French twists, when I heard this voice behind me: “Goodness, girl, you’ve lost
even more weight since the last time I saw you, haven’t you?”

When I turned around, the smiling face that greeted me belonged to none other than Miss Betty, Carl’s ex. Always the friendly one, after embracing me with a warm hug, she looked at the pastry boxes I was clutching in each hand and said, “That’s right, girl. Go on and get it out your system. A binge every now and then ain’t never hurt nobody—just so long as you don’t let it turn into an every-other-night affair.”

I laughed and assured her that I only planned to buy one box and I’d have to find a way to sneak that past Nora’s greedy tail.

We stood there like old friends, shooting the breeze about this, that, and the other for several minutes. She told me she’d just dropped the girls off at a friend’s house for a sleepover, while she herself had made plans to spend the evening with her friend Charles—the tall, strapping, chocolate chunk of eye candy I’d met briefly at her sister’s wedding. And evidently the prescription her physician’s got her on is doing the trick, because every time girlfriend said her boy Charles’s name, she looked durn near on the verge of wetting on herself. Too polite to come right out and ask me if I had anything on my Friday-night itinerary besides the box of pastries I was hanging on to for dear life, Miss Betty instead asked me why I hadn’t been by her place to pick up the pictures.

Yeah, girl, about a week prior to our run-in at the grocery store, Betty had called and left a message with Nora about some pictures from the wedding that the twins wanted me to have. Now you know durn well I’d just about had my fill of pictures of any kind, so I hadn’t been in what you might call too big of a hurry to get back with her.

After I fibbed and told her I’d been busy but that I fully intended to drop by her place one day soon, she went and
did me one better. She said, “Well, guess what? You’re in luck. It just so happens that I’ve got them with me.”

Hell! Wasn’t anything I could do but follow her over to one of the little cafe-style tables they have in the store’s bakery section and watch while she dug around in her purse. On finding the package, she first passed me all of the cute snapshots of the twins and said, “They insisted that I made sure you got these.”

I smiled and was about to tell Betty that I’d have to call the girls later and thank them, when she added, “And oh, don’t let me forget these.”

A tremor raced up my back as I stared down at the photos the girls had taken of me and Carl cuddled up on the bench beneath the trees. Totally speechless, I just sat there for a moment gazing at the pictures and trying not to let on that they made me feel one way or another.

Betty took it upon herself to fill in the pause with a surprisingly tender “You really do make a nice couple.”

I looked up and without the slightest hint of humor in my voice said, “You think? I bet people said the same thing about the two of you when you were together.”

Being the lady that she is, she ignored my saltiness and asked if I’d talked to Carl lately.

I shouldered up my pocketbook, like I was ready to go, looked hard at Betty, and said, “I’m sure you already know that I haven’t.”

She stared back just as hard and said, “Yes, but what I don’t get, for the life of me, Faye, is why? I know you’re not going to stand here and deny your feelings for him. Anybody who was paying the least bit of attention to the two of you that night at the party could tell otherwise. Don’t think I missed the way he was looking at you or the way you were trying not to look back at him.”

“Listen,” I said. “I don’t have any problems with saying that Carl’s one of the sweetest guys I’ve ever met, bar none. What woman wouldn’t be attracted to him?”

“So what’s the
but?
” she said. “Because if it has anything to do with that little hoochie who was shaking her little stank behind—”

“It doesn’t,” I told her. “I’d already messed things up between me and Carl long before she showed up in the picture.”

To my surprise, rather than try and coax all the sordid details out of me, Betty looked on in silence as I studied the pictures of me and Carl. After a few seconds or so, she placed a hand on my arm, dropped her head closer to mine, and said, “Hey, now here’s a thought. Why don’t you call Carl up and offer to bring a box of these baked goodies by his place tonight? Given that it’s a Friday evening, you and I both know it’s highly unlikely that he’s doing anything other than sitting up somewhere with his hands in his pants, watching some ol’ Pam Grier video.”

Even though we’d both enjoyed a good laugh behind the comment, don’t think I didn’t give it several minutes’ worth of serious thought after I left the grocery store that night. I even went so far as to pull out my cell phone a couple of times with the intent of calling him. In the end, though, I chickened out and decided it best to sleep on it, rather than do anything rash. Good thing I did too because as fate would have it, the following day is when I accidentally caught sight of the brother out frolicking in the park with his kids and some woman.

Yeah, girl, I was driving past Audubon Park late that Saturday afternoon when out of the corner of my eye I spotted them—Carl, the twins, Benjamin, and this woman. No, not his friend from the party. It was some other slim. And you know I circled back around just to be sure. In any case, given the grand ol’ time they were all having, chasing one another and rolling around in the grass, Ms. Thang was obviously someone Carl and the kids knew very well.

Seeing them out there like that pretty much messed me up for the rest of the day. From the looks of things, the
worst had happened—I’d waited too late and homeboy had decided to move on without me. Even though on a certain intellectual level I could accept that, what I couldn’t do was just let it go. I was still in dire need of some sort of resolution to all that had happened between us. So come nightfall, I squared my shoulders, mustered up my courage, and made myself go to a place that emotionally I’d rarely if ever permitted myself to go before.

She called. It was a little past eleven on a Saturday night and I was laid up in bed, fully engaged in my favorite fantasy-dream sequence starring Angela Bassett, Vivica Fox, Lela Rochon, and yours truly. Irritated by the interruption, I snatched up the receiver and said, “Yeah?”

She said, “Hello, Carl?”

The voice sounded familiar, but I was still somewhat on the groggy and confused side, so I guessed, “Nora?”

“No,” she said. “It’s me … Faye.”

“Faye?!” For some reason, man, I shot straight up in bed and bunched the sheets between my legs, as if I suddenly felt the family jewels in danger of being kicked, smacked, or in some manner assaulted.

“I’m sorry if I woke you,” she said.

“I wasn’t really asleep,” I said. “I was just laying up here, well—” I glanced down at my hand and gripped the sheet a little tighter before I said, “Anyway, what’s up on your side of town?”

“You were busy, weren’t you?” she asked, voice cracking around the edges. “You’ve got company?”

“Yes and no,” I said. “Angela, Vivica, and Lela were just leaving …”

She said, “Oh … I see. Maybe I ought to call back tomorrow then.”

I said, “Faye, I’m just joking. Are you okay? Is something wrong?”

“No, no, nothing’s wrong,” she said. “I was just thinking … about you …”

“About me?” I said. All of a sudden my grogginess was gone and my interest extremely piqued.

“Yes, you and the fact that I still have something that belongs to you,” she went on to say.

“Yeah, you do—my heart,” I whispered, half-joking, half-serious, and fully aroused at that point.

True to form, she ignored the comment and said, “Well, actually I was referring to your videotape—
Wanda Does Watts.
And if I’m not mistaken, I think you still have my book—
Jungle Passions.
So I was wondering if we could possibly get together and exchange them?”

I said, “Great. How soon can you get here?”

She had the nerve to be offended. “Carl, this isn’t a booty call. I’m not looking to get laid tonight.”

“That’s too bad,” I said, before I could catch myself.

After I agreed to meet her at Tom Lee Park, the following Saturday, she said, “Fine. Thank you very much. Goodbye,” and proceeded to hang up, but not before I managed to slip in “Hey, Faye … I’m glad you called, but you don’t need an excuse to see me, you know. My Friday nights are still free. Most Saturdays too.”

Naw, man, player, player, my behind. I was just trying to give ol’ girl an opportunity to stop playing and come correct with it for once. See, the problem with Faye is she always wants to make things more complicated than necessary. Granted, the fact that the sister even picked up the phone and dialed my number indicated a definite crack and thaw in the ice, but instead of hatching up some silly scheme to see me, all she had to say was, “Carl, honey, I
was wrong. I’ve been lonely and miserable without you, and I’m ready to kiss and make up.”

As it was, more than a couple of months had passed since we’d last seen or spoken to each other and I’d all but given up on any chance of us getting back together. Mentally and emotionally I’d graduated to a whole ’nother sphere—or so I thought. Her calling didn’t do anything but upset the delicate balance of things in my world and make me mad. And the more I dwelled on it in the days to come, the madder I got. She obviously had me pegged as some kinda Howdy Doody type whose strings she could twist and pull whenever it suited her fancy. Why else would she want to meet me on some mosquito-infested downtown riverbank rather than in some quaint little cozy restaurant, or better yet, her place or mine?

Well, I’d had enough of her self-indulgent, childish games. When Saturday finally rolled around, I went prepared for the worst, intent on doing my own share of damage, and slightly on edge from having spent the night before tossing, turning, and having bad dreams. I was hoping and praying my nightmare wasn’t some kind of awful premonition, ’cause in the dream, man, the real reason Faye had asked to see me was so she could let me know she was with child—mine, I assume.

Yeah, I know it sounds crazy. It had been months since our last intimate encounter. And she sure as hell didn’t look pregnant that night we hooked up after my birthday party, but hey, with my luck, anything’s possible. I had been slow to rubber up that last time. And on one of those slips in—who knows—something just mighta slipped out. Now, while the two of us sitting down and mutually agreeing to have a child within the confines of a long-term, committed relationship is one thing, having a kid unexpectedly sprung on me is yet another.

Check it out, though—in the dream, man, I didn’t waste
any time waiting to see what the sister had to say. As soon as I caught sight of her and that big baby-filled belly, I took off running. Bad thing about it, though, is she took off after me. Yeah, man, chased my ass all up and down the muddy banks of the Mississippi. And if that wasn’t bad enough, somewhere along the way she was joined in the chase by my son, Benjamin, his mama, Clarice, my ex, the twins, even my study partner from school, Victoria.

I’m telling you, man, the whole damn crew of ’em was running and screaming and grabbing at me, like a pack of evil, demented, swift-footed Cheshire cats. Yeah, you laughing, but I woke up on the floor next to the bed, drenched in sweat and babbling like an idiot.