Fitness 4Play: One Night Stand (Novel 1) (4 page)

"I know. I'm just happy to see my only baby."
She starts rubbing my head. Whether I was sick as a dog or
graduating from college, rubbing my head is my mother's signature
gesture. I guess it was her way to ensure me that everything will
be alright. She lets me inside the house.

(Johnny Taylor "I Believe In You"
playing in the background)

It is a warm, sunny Sunday morning. My mama
removes cleaning gloves from her hands and turns down the radio.
The blended aroma of Pine Sol, Clorox Bleach and Windex circulates
the air. Cleaning up during the weekend is her thing. Back in the
day, she made me get up on Saturday morning and clean up with her.
I dreaded hearing her little footsteps come towards my room armed
with a broom and dusk pan. Being a custodian wasn't in my
future.

"Uh oh! Somebody's got a man coming over
later on", I said jokingly to my mother while playfully nudging her
arm.

"Boy, you crazy. Ain't no man coming over
here…is there?" she replied, revealing her trademark grin. We both
laugh.

One trait I inherited from my mother is a
sense of humor. No matter how bad things get in life, she always
maintains a good sense of humor. I recall a few years ago when she
was diagnosed with type-2 diabetes. I can remember her response
vividly. Most people would be distraught by such news. Not my mama.
She smiled and said to the doctor, "Well diabetes never met Teresa
Banks so it might as well be ready to put its dukes up and get
ready to fight me." She raised both her hands and started throwing
punches like a boxer. Mike Tyson would've been proud. I remember
the doctor laughing and saying no other diabetic patient ever
responded positively when given the bad news. That's Mama Banks for
you.

"So I see you didn't go to church. What you
got planned for today?" I asked while sitting uncomfortably on my
mother's red and green sofa. I wish my mama would invest in new
furniture. Some of this furniture belongs in a castle. My mama is
thrifty. She would rather save money than purchase a modern plush
sofa. Here is where we are different. I would rather no furniture
at all than some '1980s, The Cosby's Show' looking furniture in my
crib.

"No. I didn't feel like it today. My
arthritis been flaring up lately and I don't have much tithes to
give in church," she replied somewhat solemnly.

"Oh. Well I understand the arthritis part but
God don't care about tithe money. As long you show up to church and
praise him. Ain't that what you taught me?"

"Yea, I did. But I don't want to show up and
give him some of my utility's bill money. Then I'm gonna have to
pray to him to not get my lights turned off." We both shared a
chuckle.

"True that!" I reply, still laughing. "So how
is everybody in the family doing?"

"Everyone is good for the most part. They
always ask about you."

"Ok. That's good to hear. So even Uncle Teddy
is doing well?" I said with a huge grin

"Devin, your Uncle Teddy is something else,"
replied shaking her head with a smile. "He is doing fine. He is not
drinking as much as he use too. Also, he plans on getting married
to a nice lady he has been dating for the past year."

"Wow! Uncle T is getting married? I thought I
would never hear about that day. I've got to get in touch and
congratulate him."

Uncle Teddy was a positive male influence for
me growing up; especially during the years my dad was battling his
drug and alcohol addiction. The funny thing is my uncle loves
Budweiser as much as my dad. But for some reason, he never allowed
alcohol to overcome him.

Back in the day, Uncle Teddy was as Jerome
from the TV show, Martin, would say "A playa, playa from the
Himalaya." Uncle Teddy was instrumental in advising me about women.
He would always provide pointers on how they are and how to act
around them. One of his favorite sayings is, "Every pretty woman
got a story involving a man. So never put all your stock into her
until she proves she is 110% down for you." I never quite got that
saying until I entered college as an 18 year old wide-eyed
freshman. To this day, every attractive female I run into has a
dude in her past (or present) lurking somewhere in the background.
This is why I'm apprehensive in revealing or giving too much of
myself to a woman.

"Soooo speaking of marriage, when will I meet
Mrs. Banks?" my mother said with an inquisitive look.

"Mama. Now you know there isn't no Mrs.
Banks. I'm only focusing on me and my career." I hate when my mama
asks that question but I understand. Every mother wants to witness
their son find a phenomenal woman to marry. My mother will have to
wait on that day.

"Oh ok. I understand. Just make sure you
don't let your career get in the way of finding true love. You have
too much to offer a woman to keep it to yourself," she replies with
a look of slight disappointment.

"Don't worry mama. I will definitely take
advantage when I meet a quality lady," I replied with a smirk.

My mother is clueless of my quest for a
quality lady. I'm not sure if one woman is enough for me though.
However, one thing my Uncle Teddy always told me is, "One quality
female trumps ten so-so females." I never could comprehend this
concept. How in the hell could one female be better than 10 or
more? How could having sex with one woman forever exceed fucking a
multitude of women on a weekly basis?

I thought Uncle Teddy was bullshitting. His
engagement suggested otherwise. Then again, he is 60 year old man.
It's easy to throw away your player card at 60! His advice
mystifies me. One woman trumps countless women? No way.

"Well mama, I enjoyed chatting with you but I
got to run," I reply while viewing the time on my smart phone.
Several text messages await my response. Most are from various
females and one is from my best friend, Greg. He says we need to
catch up sometime. I shoot him a text back to say we will soon.

"Well baby, I enjoyed your company. Don't be
stranger now," she replies as she gets up to hug me and walk me to
the door.

"Yes ma'am. I definitely won't," I say before
exiting from her home.

"Hey. Whenever you can, please check on your
father. He really wants to see you."

I rolled my head around and huffed. "Yes
ma'am. I will check on him soon." My dad has been in a drug and
rehab center for several months now. I've yet to visit him. I would
prefer not to witness my father in such a vulnerable state. In
addition, I'm still somewhat resentful that he force my mother into
a single parent role. Despite my parent's turbulent relationship, I
wanted us to remain a family. I will make an effort to visit
pops.

As I walk towards to the Mackmobile, a
peaceful smile forms across my face. I rejoice how blessed I am to
have such a wonderful mother. Afterwards, I began thinking if one
woman I meet could be half the woman she is. They say the woman you
remain with forever possess similar characteristics of your mother.
I wonder is this true? If so, where the hell is she? When I meet
her, "perhaps" I will join Uncle Teddy on 'One Woman Island.'
PERHAPS!

(Nas "The World Is Yours" playing
from my car stereo)

I just arrived at Greg's house. Before
getting out of my car, I quickly reminisce on first meeting my best
friend while attending The University of Memphis. This brother is
something else. First off, we are similar yet so different. For
one, we both share the same views and interest. We love sports
(particularly basketball and football), women, and most
importantly, thought-provoking conversation. How are we different?
His favorite sport is baseball (I can't stand baseball), loves big
women (I prefer a curvy woman minus a ton of gut), and doesn't care
to exercise. I try to get Greg to exercise with me but he ignores
me like a Jehovah's Witness knocking at his door. Nonetheless, he's
still my boy!

As I get out of the Mackmobile and head
towards his house, he flings the door open.

"Devin! How are you doing?" he exclaims while
extending his arms and standing at the doorway. I hate when he does
that!

"You startled me a little but I'm good.
Trying to get like you," I said. We exchanged hand slaps. "Mane,
you always say that. You're the one with the clean ass Mustang and
messing with more women than Hugh Hefner," Greg said with a sly
grin. We both began to laugh.

"True but I mean it. You're the one with the
high paying tech job. Also, you got a loving wife who fully
supports you. You're winning G," I said while waving my hands up
and down like he is a pharaoh.

"Dab, you crazy. We're both blessed. Anyway,
come on in." I began to walk in his house and sit down on his
couch. His place is damn near spotless. Here's another difference!
Greg is the neat freak of all neat freaks. Back in college, his
dorm room was always clean and well-organized. It was so
immaculate, I wondered, "Does he even live in his room?" As for my
dorm room, you would be lucky NOT to see a week old Papa John's
pizza box on top of the mini refrigerator. Of course, I would tidy
up before a female guest came over though.

"So can I get you anything to drink? I got
some beer," says Greg with a smirk.

"Yeah, I'll take a bottle of that," I reply,
sarcastically. Greg is aware of my hatred for beer. Its taste
couldn't be further from urine. Another reason is my dad loved
beer. His lifelong battle with alcoholism made me detest beer
further.

"Aw Dab. You got to drink beer with me one
day. Like my uncle say, it'll put some hair on your chest."

"Playa, I like the hair I already got," I
reply, stroking my goatee. We both laugh.

"I hear you. So you want anything to
drink?"

"No. I'm good. So what's been going on with
you?"

"Nothing much. Just working, taking care of
the bills and spending time with my wife. My life ain't as
thrilling as yours." Greg always makes comments about how my
lifestyle is more fun than his. I appreciate the compliment but it
makes me a tad bit uneasy. I don't want him to think that he is
missing out on anything. He has a thoughtful, caring wife. Their
relationship is damn near impeccable. In actuality, that's what I
desire with a woman.

"Ok. That's cool. You're doing what a man's
supposed to do. What I'm doing out here is something else. I mean
it is fun but how long can I keep doing this? What you got is what
every real man desires." I point at his wedding portrait hanging on
the wall.

"Yeah, I suppose. Marriage life is not always
peaches and cream but I am happy."

"Yep, and that is what it is all about.
Finding real love and happiness. The shit chick flicks be talking
about." We both share a chuckle.

"True. True. So you're sounding like a man
ready to settle down. This doesn't sound like the Devin I met at
freshman orientation." Greg cracked open his beer and sat back in
his chair in anticipation of my response.

"Whoa now, cowboy! I didn't say I was
settling down with nobody. It's just when you get older, you start
thinking about your future more. I don't want to be the 75 year old
cat in the club with a pacemaker trying to holler at these young
gals."

"I feel you on that," he replies, chuckling.
"So have you met anybody? Is there any lady who got the potential
of being Mrs. Banks?"

"Wellll, not exactly but this one female does
have me intrigued."

"Oh really? Well, who is this girl?" Greg
asks with a quizzical look.

"Her name is Lucy."

"Oh ok. Lucy. What's her nickname?" he asks
with a sly smile. Greg knows I give women I date nicknames.

"Pink dress," I replied with a smirk.

"Pink dress??? You and these nicknames! So
where did you meet her?

Remember the bar you told me to check
out?"

"Yeah."

"Well that's where I met her at. She was
wearing this pink dress. Playa, she was looking too right that
night," I replied with a big grin.

In my mind, I momentarily reminisced when I
first saw Lucy. She had a glow about her and it wasn't just lip
gloss. It seemed like all the other women at the bar/club faded
into obscurity. It's weird how this woman possesses a hypnotic
appeal over me after one night. It's strange we had not seen each
other since the morning after our sexual encounter. Yet, I think
about her as if we've dated for decades. I am hesitant to inform my
best friend my true feelings for Lucy after one interaction.

"Oh ok. So let me guess. Y'all had umm sexual
relations?"

"You already know playa. I began sitting back
in the chair with my arms folded behind my head.. Like Big Rob,
Greg always wanted details of my sexual escapades.

"I knew it. Another one bites the dust. So
what happened?" I began filling in the details of what occurred
between Lucy and I at my place.

"Wow. So you picked her up like one of them
dudes in those porno movies? You wild mane. Ain't no way in hell
I'm gonna pick up my wife," Greg jokes.

"Well you are about 150lb and she is about
260 or 270lb so I understand. However, if you would work out with
me, you would be strong enough to fling her around like a Barbie
doll." We both laugh.

"True. I've gotta hit the gym so you can
train me. You can't be the only one looking all swole." He began to
a make muscle on his skinny frame. I snicker, shaking my head.

"Well we shall see. Speaking of personal
training, I want to talk to you about something."

"Ok. What's up?"

"I want to start my own business. My own gym
facility where I train people. It's time for me to have my own gym.
Besides, Freewill Fitness isn't paying a brotha enough."

"Ok. Sounds good. So you got a business plan?
Any idea of what your niche is going to be?"