In Too Deep (2 page)

At first Monique let Tina's meddling roll off her back. Like I said, Tina wasn't the first pain in the ass she'd dealt with, and baby mama drama wasn't new to her. She'd gone through similar circumstances herself, so she knew how to deal with Tina's little comments or her unexpected visits to my place. But as time passed, and Tina's persistence increased, the inevitable started to happen: our relationship began to suffer. It just became too hard for Monique to ignore Tina's unfriendly attitude toward her and the way she blatantly threw herself at me. As Tina had undoubtedly hoped, Monique and I started to argue. She couldn't understand why I accepted Tina's nonsense. Why I let Tina call whenever she wanted. Why I never put her in check when she was out of line. Why, when Jalisa was with Tina for the summer, she still found it necessary to call me.

“Why is she calling? She has Jalisa with her. What could she possibly need?”

“Baby, don't worry about her. She just wanted to let me know what time they would be arriving next week.”

“At one o'clock in the morning?”

“It's only seven o'clock in Italy.”

“And she knows what time it is here. Come on, Randy. Why don't you put a stop to her shit? You know what she's doing. She knows what she's doing.”

“Baby, everything's fine. There's nothing to worry about.”

“Right. And maybe one day she and I could be friends.”

“I wouldn't allow that. I need you just the way you are—untainted.”

“Then why do you allow her to do what she's doing? I know you don't tell me everything she says to you. But I know she's saying something you don't like, or don't want to hear. I can read it in your face.”

“Monique, I'll handle Tina, Okay?”

“When? I'm getting tired of her calling whenever she wants to. I'm tired of her little surprise visits. And damn it, if she gives me one more smart-ass comment, or look, I'm going to slap some ugly on her.”

“Baby, can't we all just get along?”

“I'm not joking.”

And she wasn't, either. Because the following week when Tina brought Jalisa home, she did what she normally did, and Monique did exactly as she promised. She smacked Tina so hard, I know the makeup artists had a field day trying to cover up her bruise. I couldn't blame Monique, though, because Tina deserved it. But it all happened in front of Jalisa, and even though Tina was Tina, she was still Jalisa's mother.

“What the hell was that about?” I'd asked Monique. I had to confront her about it, because I didn't want it happening again.

“I told you what I would do if she gave me another comment.”

“Yeah, you did, but damn Monique, use some common sense. You didn't have to do that in front of Jalisa.”

“Common sense? Common sense would be to tell that bitch that she is Jalisa's mother and that's it. Common sense would be to make her understand that you want nothing to do with her other than when she comes for her daughter, who she had no problem disrespecting me in front of. I'm tired of her shit, Randy! And frankly, I'm getting tired of you playing her little game.”

“Game? Who the hell is playing games?”

“You! Every time she calls or comes by, you play Mr. Softy with her. What? Are you incapable of saying ‘Leave me the fuck alone'? And don't tell me she doesn't want you. I can read her thoughts, because she puts them out there for me to see in plain sight.”

“Come on Monique, we've gone over this before. You need to stop worrying. She doesn't want me.”

“Bullshit. I'm a woman. I know these things.”

“Right, you are a woman. And you are bigger than she is. And so what if Tina wants me. I'm with you, and I damn sure don't want her.”

“Then get it through her thick, weave-wearing, head.”

“There's no need to.”

“Randy, I know the body language. I know how to read in between the lines. You don't have to admit anything to me if you don't want to.”

“Monique, listen—”

“I don't want to listen. I don't want to talk about this anymore. I'm sorry about slapping her in front of Jalisa. I really am. And I'll apologize to Jalisa. But I will not continue to put up with Tina's shit. And if you don't want to try and do something about it, then I don't want to put up with yours either.”

“Monique—”

Before I could get another word out, she stormed out. That was the last argument we had. And since then, Tina's called me on my cell phone—thankfully. But this last time, Monique was sitting right next to me when it went off. And of course when I didn't answer, she wanted to know why.

“Why didn't you answer your phone?”

“It wasn't anyone important,” I said.

She looked at my phone and said, “Hmmph. It was important enough for them to leave a voice mail.”

“I'll check it later.”

“Right. Later.”

Damn.

I
knew who the call was from. He should have just taken the damn call, instead of avoiding it and trying to play it off as if I were fool enough to believe his pathetic lie about it being no one important. His actions showed me that the suspicions I'd had, had some merit behind them. Had the call been innocent, he would have had no problem answering it. But he didn't, and that could only mean that Tina was definitely out to steal my man. Well, here's what I had to say about that.

If she wanted him, she could have him.

I mean, I loved Randy to death, but I just couldn't continue to stand by and watch Tina play her little mind games with him. More importantly, I refused to be ridiculed by her. Oh no! I definitely wasn't having that. So if Randy wanted to be baited by her, then fine. In love or not, I was getting tired of all of the stress anyway.

Before I met Randy, stressful relationships were all I knew. I dated one fine caramel brother who put Shemar Moore to shame with his looks. I mean Ivan had it going on. He had pretty-boy looks, with eyelashes to die for. His body had to have been sculpted from the Super Black Man catalogue. And best of all, he made love like he invented it. Brother was so smooth with his, that he had my peaches and cream overflowing. Unfortunately, looks and sex were all he had going for himself, because months into the relationship, I quickly discovered that he couldn't keep a job to save his life. And when it came to career goals, he had no clue as to what they were. Worst yet, as soon as he realized I was making a nice-sized salary, he became a leech trying his damndest to survive off of all of the long hours I put into my job. I got rid of him quickly, but the damage had been done: time and energy had been wasted.

My next pleasure trip was with Derek. He wasn't the prettiest of brothers, but at least he had a steady job, and was a great conversationalist. After six months, I learned to look past his beady eyes, his crooked smile, and his flared nostrils, and take him for what he was—a nice, hardworking black man. Only problem with Derek was that he forgot to mention to me that he had six kids to four different women, and enough baby mama drama to make Carl Weber proud. Thankfully, I never let him have a piece of me.

I dated a few others here and there, but like all the rest, they gave me nothing but grief. I soon developed the mind-set that men couldn't hold a job, couldn't keep their zippers from falling down, couldn't tell the truth, didn't know what it meant to make love, and didn't understand that the world didn't revolve around them. I was frustrated and intent on avoiding the whole relationship pit, so when I met Randy, the last thing I expected was to fall head over heels for him.

I was in the mall shopping, when he literally ran into me, nearly sending me to the ground to join the bags I'd been holding. I was in a foul mood that day. I'd just lost a case earlier that morning, and my client had to go to jail for three years simply because his friend decided to rob a 7-Eleven while he waited in the car. He was in the wrong place at the wrong time, and to his “good” fortune, they were in my client's car. His friend shot the cashier behind the counter, almost killing him. That had been the nail in the coffin. They were arrested, and my client, who happened to be my girlfriend's little brother, became an accomplice to the crime.

Needless to say, Randy bumping into me was not what I needed at the time, because I was already ticking and ready to blow. And that's just what I was about to do until I looked up and made eye contact with him. As God was my witness, I swear I was almost at a loss for words; that's how fine Randy was. And it wasn't just his looks. I mean yes, he did have an intense pair of deep-set chocolate-brown, bedroom eyes. And yes, his lips were so Boris Kodjoe fine that I wanted to stretch up on my tiptoes and sample them for days. And okay, his build was all man—broad shoulders and thick arms—both major turn-ons for me. But what truly made him one of the handsomest men I'd ever laid my eyes on was his style. Everything was just right. The Brooks Brothers suit he wore was expensive and tailored, and didn't hide the fact that he was a regular at a gym. The jewelry he had on—a silver bracelet and silver chain with a cross hanging from it—were both simple, unlike the gaudy pieces most men like to wear these days. He was well groomed with a faded goatee connected to his sideburns. And instead of cornrows, his hair was cut low and tapered at the sides. Best of all, with his back straight and his chest out, his posture reeked confidence and professionalism, and that was a big plus in my book, because as far as I'm concerned, there is nothing worse than a man with bad posture.

Completely taken by the complete package standing in front of me, I didn't say anything for a few short seconds, but instead stared at Randy and thought to myself that there was just something about him that felt familiar and right. Finally, when I opened my mouth to speak, instead of exploding like I was going to do, I did something that was out of character for me: I flirted. To make a long story short, Randy flirted back and we ended up spending the rest of the day together. The next evening we met up for dinner.

It was nice to have a stimulating conversation with a man who had it going on, yet didn't desire to be the main topic. We spoke about our jobs, politics, movies, sports—everything. We talked until the restaurant closed, and after that he drove me back to my house in Queens, and since it was mid-July and the nighttime air was just right, we talked for another hour outside. As our night came to an end, he gave me a hug and a very soft, sweet kiss. Then he dropped a semi-bomb on me.

“Before this goes any further,” he said with the most serious of stares, “I have to let you know, I have a four-year-old daughter. I'm telling you this because my daughter's very much a part of my life. I'm hoping that this won't be a turn-off for you, but if it is, I understand.”

At first I was a little apprehensive, because of having been in those situations before, but I was really into him, and after he explained the whole situation to me, which included telling me about Tina, I realized just how much of a “real” man he was. I told him I was okay with his situation and agreed to see him again. Two weeks passed before anything became official between us.

I couldn't remember having as much fun with anyone as I did with Randy. We were like teenagers experiencing love for the first time. In a sense, it was kind of like my first time, because I had never felt that way about any man before. I couldn't get enough of him. And when I wasn't with him, he was still with me in my thoughts. We spent as much time together as we possibly could. The only time we were truly apart was when he had Jalisa on the weekends. But even then we spent those nights together on the phone. We experienced sunsets and sunrises with the receivers glued to our ears.

We did that for a good six months before the day came when I finally got to meet Jalisa. I was as nervous as I could ever remember. I wanted to connect with her, but I was prepared for a chilly reception. After all, I was the outsider, and I was sure that in her eyes, I was probably trying to take her daddy away. I guess because I had been so disillusioned by the lovers of my past, I never really gave any thought to having any kids of my own. But with Randy I'd begun to think about it, and I knew that how I dealt with Jalisa was probably going to be the measuring stick he was going to use to determine if I would be a good mother or not; something I was unsure about.

So I went with him to pick her up from her mother's house.

“Now before we go, remember, Tina can be weird sometimes. And if she acts funny towards you, don't sweat it. Just let it roll and ignore her like I do.”

“Don't worry, baby,” I reassured him. “Everything will be fine.”

Damn, was I wrong.

Everything wasn't fine.

Especially after Tina opened the door.

Now I'm sure she was attractive and deserved to be a model, but on that day, she was as ugly as ugly could be. She gave me the nastiest glare when Randy introduced me. I tried not to let it get to me, so I just ignored her little “humph,” and extended my hand to her. Damn if the bitch didn't take it. She pouted her lips, looked away from me to Randy, and then turned her back and called for Jalisa. When Jalisa came to the door with backpack in hand, I sighed. All two feet of her jumped into Randy's outstretched arms, and gave him the biggest kiss.

“Daddy!” She was the spitting image of Randy, except she had wide, permanently frightened eyes, almost like Tina's.

“How's my little munchkin?”

“Fine. Who's that?” she asked, pointing at me.

Before he could introduce me, Tina took the opportunity to make sure one thing stood perfectly clear. She took Jalisa from Randy's arms, put her back down, stared back at me and said to Randy, “Take care of
my
little girl.” Then she bent down, gave Jalisa a hug and with her leveled up at me, said, “Now remember, honey, no talking to strangers. If you don't know them, then they don't need to know you.”

I took hold of Randy's hand and gave it a light squeeze because I could tell he was about to say something. The last thing I wanted was to have an ugly scene break out right then and there with Jalisa standing silently looking at me. It's bad enough she was probably wondering why the “stranger” was clenching and unclenching her fist.

Take Jalisa out of the picture and I could have slapped Tina, no questions asked. But instead, I turned around and walked away down the hallway to the elevator. When Randy, with Jalisa skipping in tow came, I simply looked at him and shook my head. He shrugged his shoulders, gave me an I-warned-you look and pressed the button for an elevator.

While we waited, Jalisa tugged on my pants leg and looked up at me with the most adorable brown eyes. She smiled, and in a voice as sweet as sugar, said, “Don't worry, Daddy told me you weren't a stranger.”

I melted and said, “Oh, he did?”

Jalisa nodded her head like she had trouble balancing it on her neck. “Yup.”

I put out my hand. “Well in that case, I'm Monique.”

She took my hand with her own little fingers. “I'm Jalisa.”

“That's such a pretty name.”

“Yup. My daddy thinks so too.”

“Well, he's right.”

Jalisa giggled out loud and then hid her face behind her hands. “Yoooou can't seeee meeee!”

I gasped and said, “Randy, Jalisa disappeared. Get the police.”

The little angel removed her hands and smiled her father's smile. “It's okay. I'm right here.” She giggled again, and any feelings of anger I may have had quickly went away. When we got on the elevator, Jalisa's hand was in mine. We bonded that first day, and after that everything was cake.

Except when it came to Tina.

After our first encounter, nothing got better between us. And little by little, she made sure to do whatever she could to interfere with the relationship Randy and I had. Whether she had Jalisa or not, she would stop by Randy's apartment unexpected and unwanted.

“I was in the neighborhood and I thought I'd—oh,
she's
here.”

She.

That's who I was. She never used my name. Finally, one day, I had had enough.

“That's right, Tina. I am here. And just in case you forgot, the name is Monique. Use it.”

“Is
she
talking to me, Randy? I know
she's
not talking to me with that tone.
She
better not be, because I will be all up in
her
face.”

Before I could say a word, Randy took her out into the hallway and closed the front door. I don't know what he told her, but all I heard was, “bitch!” Ooh, that set me off. I quickly opened the door ready to pull out some hair, but instead of the catfight, I watched, with smoke coming from her ears, as Tina stormed down the hall and into the elevator.

“Please tell me Miss Thing didn't call me a bitch.”

“I told you she was nuts.”

“Oh no, she does not know me to be disrespecting me like that. I may look nice, but believe me, I have a whole lot of ugly wanting to come out on her flat ass.”

And believe me, I did. Tina worked my first, second, and last nerve. To make matters worse, as her modeling took off, her head grew right with it, which gave her an even greater-than-thou attitude. It was impossible for us to be in the same room. Hell, the city almost wasn't big enough.

“Baby, do you think you can try to keep your claws in when Tina brings Jalisa by?”

“Keep my claws in? You're asking the wrong woman to stay composed. Why don't you just do something about her, Randy? I'm getting tired of having to be the calm one when she comes around. I'm at the end of my rope with her.”

“I'll deal with her, okay? Just remember that she's not all there. Besides, she's going to be traveling a lot, which means that you won't have to deal with her as much.”

“We'll see.”

For the first couple of months, Randy was right. The more Tina traveled, the less stress I felt. We eventually moved into an apartment together, and since my relationship with Jalisa was outstanding, I looked forward to having her around. I became like a second mother to her, which I'm sure she didn't mind, because she didn't get the full attention she deserved from Tina anyway. I later found out that Randy felt the same way I did.

“Baby, I want to ask you something.” Randy said.

“What is it?”

“I'm not going to beat around the bush with you, okay? I'm just going to come straight out and ask.”

“Okay.”

“You know I love you, right?”