DUBIOUS (7 page)

“
You think so?”

“
I know so. I’ll even come over in the morning to do your makeup. This will give me an excuse for going to court with you because I ain’t missing this shit for all the tea in China. Just promise me you won’t spend the rest of the night crying, messing up all my hard work.”

“
I’ve done enough crying. It’s time for something different.”

“
That’s what I’m talking about. I wish I could go shopping with you. Make sure you pick out a killer outfit that’ll have Randy drooling. Make it short, too, so he can see your long legs. I’ll see you in the morning.”

“
Thanks, girl. I’m sorry for being such a bitch.” I gave her a hug and a kiss, said my goodbyes, and strutted across the floor feeling good. I paid the receptionist on the way out. I was a silent partner in the business, and Kenya gave me hell every time I attempted to pay so I never put the money in her hand. According to her, I’m entitled to free services for the rest of my life since I would not allow her to pay me back for the initial down payment I had fronted her. As far as I was concerned, it was a gift between friends; however, every time I brought up transferring the title from both of our names to just hers, we ended up fighting so I quit mentioning it.

CHAPTER 6

I really didn’t feel like shopping, but my clothes were falling off of me. I had no choice. Even though I wanted to look my best, I didn’t know where to begin. I decided on a small boutique that I passed often but never stopped in. It was located in a plaza that would meet all of my beauty needs. The clothes in the window always looked so pretty. Since they were geared to smaller women, I never wasted my time going in.

The sales associate looked up from her fashion magazine as I walked in. I detected her attitude immediately. It took all I had not to turn around and walk out the store. Evidently she must have thought I couldn’t afford the trendy fashions because she didn’t move toward me as I browsed the prêt-a-porter racks. Cracking gum loudly, she flipped through the pages of her magazine while shooting me the evil eye. She was about to get on my last nerve. She was in her early twenties and as skinny as a rail, but her beauty was superficially marred by her funky attitude.

I snatched several outfits off the rack and looked for the dressing room. I could have used that heifer’s help, but I wasn’t about to ask her for shit. I saw the dressing room sign near the back and stomped my way toward it.

“
We got cameras in there,” she called out behind me.

I stopped and faced her. “And your point would be?”

“
I’m just saying it,” she said, snapping her gum in dismissal.

It took all I had not to throw the clothes on the floor and snatch that skinny wench up by her throat. Obviously, she did not know who she was talking to. She was lucky I liked the outfits I had picked out or she would be plucking them out her ass. “I’m going to pretend that your stupid ass did not just say that to me. However, I’d advise you not to make the same mistake twice because then I won’t have no choice but to kick your ass.” I stomped the rest of the way to the dressing room only to find the door locked.

If it were possible for smoke to come out of my ears, it would have happened at this precise moment. I was sitting on go and the bell was about to ring. Spinning around, I damn near knocked the heifer down. With all my stomping, I didn’t hear her sneak up on me.

“
It’s locked,” she said, blowing a big bubble that nearly brushed my face. She walked around me and unlocked the door. The urge to reach out and touch this twit was so strong I could taste it. Instead, I walked into the dressing room.

“
You’re only allowed six pieces at time,” she cracked again.

I held up each item for her inspection. Why I was putting up with her insolent behavior was starting to bother me. It wasn’t like I couldn’t afford to go anywhere else. I guess it became a principal for me to show her what I was working with. I had more money in my wallet than she probably had in her entire bank account.

People kill me judging folks without knowing them. For all she knew, I could have been Oprah in disguise. Furthermore, she would’ve pissed away a fat commission with her ignorant attitude. Regardless of my appearance from the neck down, she should have at least pretended to give a shit. I tried on each outfit and was delighted to find out that none of them fit. I poked my head outside the dressing room door. “I need a smaller size.”

She gave me this honey-please look that would’ve gotten her shot if I had a gun. I stared back at her in defiance. She finally got up, grabbed some keys off the counter, and shuffled to the dressing room as if concrete blocks were weighing her steps.

“
If you don’t mind, I’m in a hurry.” I could tell she wanted to get smart but thought better of it.

“
What size do you want?” she said, reaching for the outfit I was holding out.

“
Bring me a ten.”

“
We don’t have this in a ten; we only have an eight.” A few minutes later, she brought me the eight with this kiss-my-ass smile on her face. “Still want to try it?” Her voice was melodic as if she were taunting me.

“
Hand ’em here.” She pissed me off so badly, I was determined to wear them even if I had to bust a seam or two getting in them.

The skirt fit like a glove made for me; it was perfect. I turned to admire myself in the mirror. The difference was amazing. I took the jacket from its hanger and tried it on. I doubted it would fit because of my boobs but surprisingly it fit too. With the new hairdo and the clothes, I didn’t recognize myself.

I tried on the other two outfits. They fit as well and I was ecstatic. I was so happy I went to find some other things as well, forgetting all about the hateful salesperson. She stared at my bare feet but didn’t say anything as I flittered about the store. My pile of clothes grew on the counter as I tried on practically everything in my size.

Exhausted, I put back on the clothes I’d wore into the store and stepped to the register. Nothing would have pleased me more than to walk about the store with nothing but that would have been silly since I looked so good in them. “Do you work on commission?”

“
No,” she replied as she rang up my purchases. She tried to hide the smirk on her face when she told me how much I owed.

I didn’t flinch. I just handed her my credit card with a smirk on my face. She didn’t start to bag my items until the little machine finished processing my purchase. Finally she smiled, showing all of her teeth.

“
I’m glad,” I said as I took the bags from her hand.

“
Huh?”

“
I’m glad you don’t get a commission off of me because your attitude sucks. Had you been nicer, I might’ve bought you an outfit or two.”

The smile on her face disappeared.

I reached up to flip my hair back off my shoulder but my attempt was only met with open air. I had to get used to my hair being short. Hopefully, she didn’t notice my haughty attempt to flaunt my stuff. I took my packages to the car and doubled back to the spa for the pampering my body was screaming for.

* * *

I drove home with V103 tuned on my radio. The music was blasting, and I sang along the whole ride. The spa was exactly what the doctor had ordered. I treated myself to a mud bath, a facial, a body wrap, and a full-body massage. I’d gotten rid of the bush growing over my eyes and had my feet and nails down as well. I walked away feeling like a million bucks in spite of my tacky attire. I couldn’t wait to get home and really unwind.

***

I checked my answering machine as I put away my clothes. There were no new callers who needed or wanted my attention. Sighing, I went into the kitchen to fix myself a drink. I was preparing to take this relaxation mode to the next level.

As usual, Justus was lying in the corner looking as if he’d lost his very best friend. I could relate to him one hundred percent because I was still an emotional wreck. I could not help but to climb back aboard my pity train, feeling unloved and unwanted. In my mind, my life had been regulated to a series of
before
-and-
after
events.

Before Randy had left, there was always someplace to go and something to do. Since he’s been gone, our phone hardly ever rang unless it was someone selling something. I’d come to realization that most of our friends were really his. The only friend that I had was Kenya. This reality depressed the hell out of me, making me feel alone and frightened. I didn’t even have the comforting arms of a parent to fall back on since both my parents had passed. My father was killed in a car accident when I was in my final year of high school, and my mother died of breast cancer shortly after that. I’d met Randy in my freshman year of college and he’d grown to become my friend and eventually my family.

“
Girl, stop being so damn melodramatic and shit,” I chastised myself. I didn’t need fair-weather friends anyway. I grabbed a bottle of wine, a chilled glass from the refrigerator, and took them to the bathroom. I turned on a light jazz radio station on the wall-mounted stereo and poured a liberal amount of bubble bath into our Jacuzzi.

I grabbed my robe from the foot of the bed and began to take off my clothes. For a few seconds, I debated on whether to throw them away or not. I decided to keep them as a reminder of my last day as a married woman. I slipped into the warm water.

“
Ahh, now that’s what I’m talking ’bout.”

The wine immediately went to my head. It was probably because I had forgotten to eat. This, however, didn’t stop me from draining my glass and filling it again. I was so lonely. I was not used to spending so many nights with myself. I vowed to change the “loneliness” as soon as I had the trusty divorce papers in my hand.

My thoughts drifted to Randy.

I wondered who he was spending his time with. With the divorce pending, I assumed Randy would try to get something on me so he could at least get possession of his stupid dogs. If it weren’t for that, I would’ve called an escort service and ordered one of their super-sized maintenance men. I laughed at the thought and allowed myself to slip farther into the tub, trying to erase the loneliness from my mind.

As I lathered up my wash cloth, my hand glided over my breast. I briefly squeeze it, but this only irritated me. I missed the touch of a man, and I wanted nothing more than to be dicked down proper. I envisioned myself jammed up against the wall giving as much as I was receiving, grinding my ass against a hot piece of burning flesh. Oh how I’d missed those feeling.

I finished my bath and climbed out of the tub frustrated. That celibacy thing was overrated and for the fucking birds.
I can’t see how women do this for years. It’s been so long since I’ve been fucked, I feel like I can bite through raw steel. As soon as I march my happy ass out of that courtroom, I’m finding me a hard dick. God didn’t intend for me to live my life this way
.

Over in the corner, Justus was resting his head on his paws. I never had a dog before so I didn’t know what, if anything, I should’ve been doing to keep him company. Once I tried to flip a Frisbee to him but he let it hit him in the nose. He hid under the couch for two days behind that shit.

After I put on my nightgown, I turned my attention to my laptop. I wanted to check my investment portfolio and do some more research on the dogs I’d inherited. Randy had picked these dogs for a reason, and I refused to ask him why they were so special. They weren’t bred in the United States, so I needed to find some key selling points to help me get the most from the dogs if I sold them on EBay. I wanted to dispose of them as soon as the dust settled. When I told Kenya that this business was going to finance my dream vacation and all the cosmetic surgery I’d ever thought about, I meant it.

I passed the mirror with my laptop in hand, and my reflection damn near scared the shit out of me. I wasn’t use to the short haircut. My hair had been my security blanket for so long. I used it to take the focus off my big nose and large forehead. My nose was too pointed for my face, my lips were too thick—in my opinion—to be considered attractive; so I would use the money from the sale of the dogs to finance the ultimate makeover. I would call it a parting gift from my husband whether he liked it or not—a last laugh and a
fuck you too
at the same time.

The phone rang and interrupted my fantasy of the ultimate makeover. The shrill tone jerked me back into the real world. I snatched up the receiver wanting the noise to stop. “Hello?”

“
Please don’t hang up. It’s me,” Randy said.

Fire comingled with desire as I listened to his smooth, sexy voice. I loved the sound of his voice. I could not speak. My tongue suddenly felt thicker, blocking the words of endearment that wanted to flow out of my mouth.

“
Felicia, are you there?”

“
What is it?” False hope filled my mind. I mouthed a silent prayer, hoping he’d changed his mind and was willing to drop this whole silly matter and come home where he belonged.

“
Are you busy? I could call you back later.”

Who the hell is he kidding? Am I busy? Doing what? You took my life with you when you left.
“I can spare a few minutes.”