All That Drama (20 page)

I
had never been to Conyers even though it was only about half an hour from my house in Stone Mountain. Driving was not my forte and I only went places where I absolutely had to go when I was behind the wheel. I had this great propensity for getting lost so I had my map next to me on the seat. The funny thing was that I didn’t know how to read the motherfucker so I could have left the shit at home and it would not have made a damn bit of difference.

The directions said to take Interstate 20 towards Conyers and to the best of my knowledge I was going in the right direction. Despite the uncertainty that awaited me, I was feeling good. I had the music cranked up and was not paying attention to the road that I was traveling on until I looked at the clock. I had been traveling for about forty-five minutes and I realized something was very wrong. I was in the country true enough but according to my calculations, I should have been seeing some of the landmarks that Norman had given me in his directions. I pulled out my cell phone and called Norman to tell him that I was lost.

“Where are you?”

“I don’t even know. Wait, I’m approaching a sign.” I slowed down the car to read it.

“Walton County,” I said, stifling a cry.

“Calm down, you messed up somewhere. Let me get my map.” He put the phone down and I pulled over to the side of the road to compose myself. I lit a cigarette and inhaled deeply. “That’s why I hate driving,” I said out loud, pounding the steering wheel. Norman got back on the line.

“I think you are on State Route 81. I need you to turn around and look for State Route 20. There will be an Eckerd’s drugstore on the right. Turn right and I will meet you at the Texaco station.”

Shit
, I exclaimed to myself when I found out he wanted me to take State Route 20, which I could have picked up by just going straight down Sigmund Road. Norman assumed that I knew where the hell I was going.

Now instead of being early for dinner, I would just make it or worse yet, I would be late. I hated being late more than anything in the world. The second most-hated thing for me was being lost and I was truly lost. I drove and drove and drove and finally had to park the car and wait for Norman to come find me. By this time, I was crying and had messed up my makeup. It was dark and I was out in the middle of fucking nowhere and not a happy camper. It took him almost thirty minutes to get to me and by that time, dinner was long done and over with.

I followed him to his mother’s house and I swear to God his directions would have never led me to the place he eventually took me. Even accounting for the fact that we were approaching it from a different angle, it was almost as if he messed up the directions to seal my fate with his family. Hell, I would have never found it on my own. It was way back on a small dirt road, deep into the woods.

When we arrived, I got mad at him for even thinking that I could have found it on my own since he knew my bad sense of direction.

He apologized for not making it clear that I should have been on State Route 20 instead of I-20 and while part of me accepted his apology, the other part of me that got lost was still pissed. I had wanted to make a good impression on his peeps, but now, I looked like an idiot that could not follow simple-ass directions.

The house he resided in, and I use the term loosely, was nothing more than a doublewide trailer. It was on a large lot of land as Norman previously stated, but it could not be considered “farm land” because the only thing that appeared to be growing on it was junk. I tried not to let the shock register on my face as I entered the rickety trailer but I am not that great of an actress.

The floor was sinking so badly that I was leaning to the right in my heels. I lost my footing and stumbled into the kitchen giving the appearance that I was drunk. I was mortified. Now I understood how his mother could get stuck in the kitchen. He should have warned me to wear sneakers instead of dressing to impress his family. As I looked around the group that was assembled at the table, I was the only one that had dressed up for the event. I felt about two feet tall.

His family was seated around the table finishing up supper and I just wanted to go back home and cry. The table was not very big but it was loaded with food and since the trailer was so small, it took up the entire room. Eating was the farthest thing from my mind since my entire fantasy was ruined. I had to make two of his sisters get up just so I could get a seat.

“Mom, I would like for you to meet Marie,” Norman said. His mother smiled at me. It was not the fake happy-to-meet-you smile but a genuine one felt from the heart. This made me feel much better.

“Hi, Ms. Parker. Sorry about being late,” I said, beaming back at her.

“And this is Kia, Kenya and Kim,” he said, pointing to each of his beautiful sisters. They appeared to be real close in age.

“Hi,” they said in unison. I nodded to each of them as I continued smiling and growing more and more uncomfortable by the minute. He saved the final introduction to his daughter for last.

“And this little lady is Allison,” he said while pulling out a chair for me. Allison was at the far end of the table and barely visible over the top. She was the cutest little girl that I had seen in a while, with the exception of my own daughter, of course. She was only four and from what they had told me, she refused to sit in a high chair ’cause she wanted to sit up just like the grown folks. As the only grandchild, I knew that this little lady would be a handful. She had a whole room full of people at her beck and call and I could tell that she already knew that at her tender age.

His family did their best to make me feel comfortable and I tried my best to get over my anxiety over being late and my disbelief of the sinkhole he had just brought me to. I was worried about finding my way home and I could not get over how different his house was from the way that he had described it.

Not that it made much difference to me that he lived in a shack instead of a house; it was more like he saw things differently than I did. For example, he drove a Lexus, which was easily worth $40,000 and his mother was living in a sinking pit. I had a problem with that on the real tip. He was a surveyor and his salary was at least $80,000 in a bad year. I didn’t even know what his paychecks looked like but I knew the business.

The question became why hadn’t he done something about his mother’s home, and it kept nagging at my soul. If he had moved back in (that is if he had ever left) to help his mother, why hadn’t he fixed the fucking floor? That had to be hell on the wheels of her portable chair.

I made it through dinner though I did not even taste the food that I ate nor did I recall one word of the conversation.

“Please, let me help with the clean-up,” I said as I choked down the last forkful. I wanted to tidy up so I could get the hell out of there.

“Nonsense, we got this,” Kia said as I tried to help wash the dishes but all the while I just wanted to go home and sort everything out.

Kia offered to show me back to Interstate 20, which was a real blessing ’cause I was so confused as to where I was, it would have taken me a week to find it on my own. I wanted to kiss her but did not know how she would take that shit! She said she was going to Chitchat and asked me if I wanted to go. I told her thanks but no thanks. Part of me wanted to take her up on the offer since I had not been dancing in a long time but one, I was not dressed for Chitchat and two, it would have probably given off the wrong impression to his family.

I just wanted help to get back to the highway and the safety of my house so I could think. I kissed Norman on the cheek and followed Kia’s car to the highway. She pulled up next to me and told me how great it was to see me again. She also told me that she thought her brother really liked me. I told her thanks and said that he was special to me as well. In restrospect, my heart wasn’t in my response to her.

T
he next day, Norman came over around 5:00. He was bearing flowers and my heart started to melt a little bit. He was looking too good in his black FUBU shirt with matching FUBU jeans and black Timberland boots. I had to give points to the man ’cause he sure knew how to dress. It wasn’t that he was sporting designer gear; it was the way the clothes hung on his frame. It got me to thinking, what was he guilty of, living off his momma? Hell, she allowed it and that did not necessarily mean that he would try to move in with me and live off of me, did it?

He came through the door and kicked it shut with his foot. He pulled me to his chest and gave me the most powerful kiss that I had had in a long time. When we were done, I was breathless.

“What was that for?” I asked still trying to catch my breath.

“I just wanted you to know how very much I missed you over the past week and to tell you how proud I was to introduce you to my family as my lady. They loved you,” he said. He had a wrapped box with him that he presented to me.

“Ohhh, I love surprises,” I squealed. The box was small enough for a bracelet. I eagerly grabbed it and started to unwrap it. “Take your time, sweetheart; I won’t take it back.” I tried to compose myself and act as if I were used to receiving presents outside of birthdays and Christmas. But I just could not take it. I got the paper off and threw it to the floor. Norman just laughed at me. I opened the box, which he had taped down as well, and saw that it contained a watch. “Wow, it’s a
Timex
,” I said to cover my dismay. Not that I had so much against Timex but damn! It even had one of those stretch bands on it that just collected dirt and caused your arm to change colors. I tried to keep those thoughts from registering on my face. After all, it was the thought that counted.

Part of me wanted to get pissed. I was not a superficial type of woman but I would not give a Timex to my children. If Norman had bothered to look at my arm, he would have seen what a real watch should look like. The watch I was wearing had twelve diamonds on its face and it didn’t have the stupid stretch band. I put his watch on next to my own and held it out for his inspection. If he noticed how badly his watch compared to mine he didn’t say anything. While he was busy being pleased with himself I tried to get over my initial disgust.

“It’s waterproof, too!” he declared.

I was at a loss for words. I pulled him into the living room and asked him what he wanted to do for the evening. Since I was so used to the
no pressure, I don’t have to have sex
routine, I was shocked when he backed me into the corner and started playing with my nipples. He did not give me a chance to object either ’cause he covered my mouth with his and tried to suck away my very breath. At that point, my brain shut down and my hormones took over.
Fuck the Timex!
I thought.
We are about to get busy.

He pulled one of my legs up off the floor and wrapped it around his body. He then proceeded to grind his body into mine against the wall. I could not have escaped if I had wanted to and believe me when I say, I did not want to. He broke away from my lips and started planting kisses along my neck alternating between biting and sucking my neck and throat. I was moaning and totally out of control. This was the most pleasure that I had received from another person in a long time. It had been too long since I had a man, I could hardly think straight. He was as hard as a brick and he was trying to get it in there despite the fact that we were both still fully clothed.

Norman pushed away from me, looked deep into my eyes and said, “I need you,” and that was all he needed to say. If I was a genie, I would have blinked our clothes away, but we had to do it the old-fashioned way.

He picked me up and carried me upstairs to my room. He gently lowered me onto my bed and proceeded to do a striptease dance for me. He stopped when he got to his bikini underwear. Damn, the brother had it going on! Hell, I thought he looked good with his clothes on but Lawd have mercy, near naked was off the chain.

“Would you undress for me?” he asked.

I’ll admit at that point my brain became disconnected. I was not in control anymore. It had been a long time since I had been this close to a near naked man and I was having a hard time staying focused. His upper body was chiseled and reminded me of the dancers at Faces on Sunday night.

I started grabbing at my clothes like a woman who had been stuck in the desert for months without anything to drink. I tore at my clothes the same way that I had with the wrapping paper on his present. That was how bad it was! I stripped down to my g-string before he could even blink an eye. I threw clothes everywhere and just lay there for his inspection.

That was by no means a striptease and I wanted to apologize but since he didn’t complain, fuck it. I guess he liked what he saw ’cause he turned around so I could get a rear view of the beautiful ass I had a spotted in his jeans so many times before we had gotten to this point. I could not wait until he turned around so I could get a glimpse of the cucumber that was between his legs. The same large member that kept me hung up on the dance floor and pinned against the wall earlier that night.

I was so excited I was panting and we had not even done anything yet! He told me over his shoulder that he loved my breasts. He said that was the first thing that had attracted him to me aside from my juicy ass! I was creaming and waiting for him to turn around. I assumed for all the fumbling he was doing that he was putting on a raincoat ’cause without a coat, wasn’t shit happening up in my camp! He kept talking about the different outfits he had seen me in and how they had made him feel, and I was just eating it up.

I began to rub my nipples getting them hard so when he did turn around they would be standing at attention. I was so ready for this lovemaking that I was about to pop without him even touching me!

And then, he turned around! My eyes traveled down the length of his body and got stuck on his dick or lack there of. He had switched the cucumber with a Sweet Pickle!

Shit, I’ll bet Kevin is bigger than he is
, I thought. His shit was so small it looked like my pinkie finger sticking straight out. What in the hell was I supposed to do with that?

My initial inclination was to jump off the bed and run for cover. I looked around for the big dick that had rubbed against my clit but he must have stuck it in his underwear when he took them off. Got damn, no wonder this motherfucker wanted to wait so long to have sex. He wasn’t packing shit! Don’t get me wrong; I have had some small guys before but they knew they were small and as a result, compensated for their shortcomings. This motherfucker was still under the impression that the cucumber was still in place and jumped me humping and bumping like he was doing something. IF he penetrated, I’m here to tell you I didn’t feel a damn thing. It was over so quickly; my thoughts could not keep up with the action. Just like that, he was through.

He rolled over on his side and the nigga was asleep before I could figure out what the hell was really going on. I was so deeply disappointed that I did not know whether to cry or to laugh. If I weren’t so horny, this shit would have been too funny but since I was, I failed to see the comical side of the situation. I nudged him to stop him from snoring but the brother did not move. I got out of the bed and went to get my real man, an eight-inch vibrator that had helped me get through many sleepless nights before.

I took the vibrator back to the bathroom and positioned myself up on the counter and took care of my own pleasure. This was the type of man I was beginning to think I needed. I did not have to do anything to my vibrator but plug him up. He did not require any special attention; all I had to do was wipe him off and he was ready to go again! My vibrator did not eat every damn thing in sight and he didn’t talk back, alas the perfect man. After I was finished, I ran a shower and got in the bed.

As I crawled into bed, the words to a song by TLC came rushing to my head.
First he came, and then he went, right to sleep so fast; I could not believe…he pulled a quickie on me.
Norman slept for a couple of hours and got up to go home. I had already figured out that he could not or would not spend the night at my house, which was just as well because I was ready for him to go. I should have won an award for the performance I put on before he left. I urged him not to go while he was steadily talking about how wonderful the lovemaking was. He did not call it sex, ’cause to him it was the most beautiful experience of his life. He kept kissing me on my hands, my face and neck, telling me over and over again how I had rocked his world. I gave him my key and told him to lock the door on his way out.

I had a lot to think about and I did not need him around to cloud my judgment. Before climbing back in bed, I checked under it to see if he had put the fake dick that he came into my house with under the bed, but he must have stuffed it back in his pocket and taken it with him. I could not wait to call Angie and tell her that shit. Before I could reach for the phone, Norman called.

“Hello,” I answered, pretending sleep.

“It’s me baby and all I can say is damn, girl!”

“I know what you mean,” I said, “but you got me so tired I have to get some rest. I will call you later.”

“All right, sweetness, think of me as you sleep as I will be thinking of you,” he replied.

The bile rose in my throat. Was this guy serious? Did he really believe that he had it like that? Suddenly the shit became funny and I laughed myself back to sleep.

I slept for a few hours more and went to the grocery store. The phone was ringing when I got back to the house. I looked at the caller ID and saw that it was Norman again. This was the third call that I had had from him that day and it was only 1:00. He had called first thing that morning waking me up after I finally fell asleep; he was on my caller ID again around 11:00; and now he was on the phone again.

Pissed, I answered the phone. “Hello.”

“Damn, baby, sounds like you need a little tender love and care. Do you want me to come over?” he said.

Only if you bring a friend,
I thought.

“Can I come back and get into bed with you?” he asked. I had to refrain from asking him if his mother would let him come out and play.

“I’m pooped, baby. Maybe tomorrow,” I lied as I hung up the phone. I was going to have to deal with this situation sooner or later but I still had not decided what bothered me most—the fact that he was living with his momma in a rundown shack or the fact that he perpetrated on his dick! I pulled out a chair at the kitchen table and sat down to weigh the situation.

I drew two columns on a piece of paper and at the top of one column, I wrote “Reasons to Be With Norman.” On the other column I wrote, “Dump the Dwarfed Penis.” I cautioned myself to think positively and to fill out the reasons-to-stay column first ’cause up until I had gone to his house, I was very much on the way to falling in love with Norman. In the plus column, I listed the fact that my kids loved him; he was very good-looking; he had a nice upper body (I could not say his whole body was nice anymore now that I had gotten a look at the goods); he had a great sense of humor; we liked the same movies, and some of the same foods; he was a great dancer; and he knew how to treat a woman.

In the negative column I listed first and foremost, his little dick; the house that he lived in with his momma; the fact that he could be moody sometimes; demanding, pushy, critical, egotistical and spoiled; he liked sports; had a tendency to hog the remote; and the fact that he gave me a fucking Timex.

After the list writing was done, I studied everything in the negative column and asked myself what, if any, of those things could I change and learn to accept. He was stuck with the little dick; God gave it to him and if it hadn’t grown to full size yet chances were good that it would never grow up. But I could teach him that there were other things that he could do to please me to make me forget about his little dick, at least for a little while. Hell, I could even show him how to use my vibrator on me!

The deal with the house was really not my problem. If his mother chose to live in the house, then what could I say? I could’ve asked him why didn’t he and his sisters contribute some money to fix the house up but I did not want to broach that situation unless I decided to keep him. The reality was that if the house continued to be an issue, I never had to go back there again. If there was another function that we had involving his family, I could have it at my house.

With regard to his being pushy, demanding, and egotistical, I was just going to have to decide how much of that shit I was going to take and have a serious heart-to-heart with him about that. I knew that if he caught me on a day when my tolerance level was low, I was more than likely to put him in his place real quick so that did not appear to be a real big issue. Finally with regard to the remote, if he got too damn happy with the shit I would just turn the damn set off ’cause after all, it was my TV!

Logically I had resolved all the issues I had with Norman with the exception of the watch; I simply would not wear it. I would put it back in its box and maybe give it to someone that I didn’t like for Christmas.