My Best Friend and My Man (22 page)

—36—

V
ERON

After Demetria leaves,
I admit,
I feel a little awkward for the first few moments. But Seaphes never mentions what just happened. He simply turns off the TV and sits on the couch, quietly sipping his chocolate martini.

And the fact that he respects my silence makes me respect him even more.

“You hungry?” I ask. “Can I make you another plate?”

“Nope, babe, I’m good. Thanks.”

“Okay,” I say trying to fill the silence. “I guess I oughta be going myself. It’s getting late.”

“No way.”

“But,” I say yawning. “I gots to get up early.”

“So do I. I get up to go running at five.”

I roll my eyes. “Well, I’m not going to be doing all that, but there’re things I want to do at home,” I say. I head for the door.

“Okay,” Seaphes says, waving me away. “But that means you won’t be getting the back massage I was thinking about giving you.”

Fifteen minutes later we’re naked in Seaphes’s shower. I’m giggling while he tickles me. I’m covering up my breasts, and he keeps trying to make me laugh so my hands will fall to my sides and he can get a nice little feel.

“Stop it, Seaphes. I’m trying to be mad at you. You promised me a back rub!”

“Don’t,” he says, kissing me on the back of my neck, “be mad.” Kiss on my ear. “Maybe I’ll get to it.” Kiss on my hair. “Later.” I grunt when I feel Seaphes press his body against my back. He wraps his arms around my waist; the combination of water splashing me against my chest and feeling his erection pressing against my backside makes me even more wet.

“You ready?” he moans, wiggling his butt around until his dick begins to press inside of me from behind.

“Mmm hmmm,” I groan, closing my eyes, and reach behind to grab him and guide him in.

He pumps lovingly inside me for a long time, and as I climax I think to myself how ironic it is that I have Demetria to thank that I finally got some loving.

—37—

D
EMETRIA

When I see Veron
at work the next
morning she’s walking with a spirited bounce. I stop her in the hallway.

“Hey, Vee, got a moment?”

“Yes, baby girl, how you doing?”

“Let’s go in the ladies’ room lounge.”

She follows me, and we sit on the houndstooth couch just like old times.

“Thank you for being there when I needed you. I know I’m not easy to deal with…”

“Please, Demetria, you don’t have to explain. We’re good. We’re very good,” she says, and winks.

I stare at her. “You?”

“Yep.”

“Damn! Go girl,” I say, and we high-five. I’m glad for her, but I can’t help but wonder…would Seaphes have liked it better if I’d been there to join in on the fun?

“Well, how was it?”

She hesitates but says, “I don’t kiss and tell.”

“What?” I screech. “Girl, come on. I always tell you when Thad and I do the do.” My face falls at mentioning his name, and I begin fiddling with my hands.

“You haven’t heard from him, huh?”

I shake my head. “It’s killing me, too. Part of me wants to call, but no way. Unless a woman maintains control, her relationship is doomed.”

“Oh, Demetria, you can’t be serious.”

“What you talking about? That’s in the book. I know you know that.”

“Yeah, but I’m starting to wonder. You have to read that book critically. There’s some stuff in there that I don’t know if it works. I mean, sure, there are some helpful tips, too, things that have actually worked in my favor.”

“Example?”

“I agree with the part that says if we stay feminine, we’ll appeal to the part of a man that wants to protect us. I’ve noticed that Seaphes really responds when I let him be the man.”

“Ah ha,” I say and give her a thoughtful glance. Maybe that’s part of my problem. I try to be so strong most of the time, which I thought was the right way to be. Except last night my weakness helped me learn that my friends do care about me. That even when I’m not on top of the world and I’m down in the dumps, they’re there for me. And that lesson is worth learning, even if it’s risky to expose my true self.

“I hear ya,” I tell Vee. “Well, I hope to hell that book can help me get Thad to talk to me. But I just don’t know for sure.” I stand up and pace the length of the room.

“Talk to Seaphes. He’ll advise you.”

“Y-you sure, Vee?”

“I’m positive. Seaphes has a good heart and he won’t steer you wrong. You have my blessing.”

Shocked, I tell her, “Thanks, girl. I’ll give it a try.” We hug one more time. And I’m learning you can never hug too much, never be loved too much.

Later on, right after the lunch break, Seaphes walks into my office. “Hey, I heard you wanna see me.”

“Yep, it’s about…Thad,” I say and squirm.

“Who is this guy?”

“It’s not important.”

“Don’t give me that.”

“Well, there are certain things that I’m not at liberty to discuss.”

“You love him?”

“I don’t have to answer that. I just need you to help me get him back. That’s your role. You tell me what I should do, because right now I can’t think clearly for myself.”

Seaphes sighs. “Okay, Demetria. What you need to do is get in touch with him—only give it a few days. Don’t delay longer than that, because the more time passes between you after a falling out, the less chances you have of getting back together. He’ll assume you’ve moved on, and that will give him the justification to move on, too.”

“That makes sense. But meanwhile, what can I do to keep myself from going crazy? I hate not knowing everything. I mean, he sent me this crappy text message that indicates he’s been spying on me.”

“Oh, yeah? You didn’t tell me that part.”

“It’s embarrassing. And maddening. I don’t know whether to be totally angry or flattered in some sick sort of way.”

“Well then, I don’t know, Demetria. You may want to close the door on this relationship. That’s not healthy behavior.”

“Oh great, just what I
don’t
want to hear.”

“You’re a strong woman, Demetria. I’m sure you’ll figure out what to do.”

Seaphes stands up and gestures at me. I stand up as well, arching my neck to look in his eyes. I am grateful for his attention, something that I desperately need right now. We hug, and he goes back to his office.

For the rest of the work week I lay low. I want to reconnect with Thad, but every time I pick up the phone to dial his number, I hesitate and hang up before I can press the seventh digit. I know we’re playing the game right now. Who can hold out the longest? Who’s gonna cave in first and say the dreaded words “I’m sorry”? It’s times like these when I wonder if the game playing is worth it.

Regardless, I’m pretty relieved when I get through the work week without crawling back to Thad on my knees. And by the time Sunday morning arrives, I am fueled by a burst of energy from preparing for the Walk America event.

A group of us from work have decided to hang together. I’ve never participated in this event before, but Vee assures me that it’ll be something that I’ll never forget, this day spent helping babies born with birth defects. Plus, we’ll have loads of fun.

We’re at Vee’s apartment. I decided to swing by her place by seven thirty this morning, so we can ride to the University of Houston together.

“Demetria,” she says, “if you really know someone, you can sense when something is wrong. And I know you, girl.”

“Ah, hmmm,” I say, then concentrate on tying my shoelaces. “Well, at least I still look good. No man is going to take away my self-esteem forever.”

“Amen to that.”

We grab our iPods, a water cooler, and a couple of towels, and are on our way.

When we arrive at UH I am amazed at the hundreds of people already gathered for the event—in every direction, there’s a sea of walkers wearing colorful T-shirts. From toddlers to college students, to senior citizens, to dozens of uniformed policemen…it feels as if everyone and their mama are out here on this hot Sunday morning.

Vee and I cart our belongings to the City of Houston tent. The loud sounds of southern rap songs blare from the stereos.

“Hey,” Veron says, “I’m going to try and reach Seaphes.”

“Alright, girl,” I say, smiling, and for a rare moment I don’t mind that she gets to talk to him without me being in on the conversation. I bought new gear just for this event, and to me new clothes represent a new attitude, a new me. So I’m not surprised when I break into another wide smile when I see Seaphes and Veron walk toward me. They’re looking at each other and sharing a laugh. Good for them, I think. Seaphes turns around and a petite young lady walks up huffing and puffing and pushing a huge stroller.

I step up to her and hold out my hand. “Hey, you must be Greta, Seaphes’s sister?” I say, then stoop down until I tower over the stroller. “And this here must be cute little Tupac. Oh, he’s so fine. May I hold him?”

“Okay,” Greta says, “but only for a minute. You don’t know how much trouble I had to go through just to get him tied up in this thing. He hates being confined,” she explained.

“I don’t blame him,” I coo and wait for Greta to unstrap her son. “Hey, cutie. We’re going to be best buddies today. I’m Auntie Demetria.” He smiles at me.

“Don’t hesitate to put him back if he gets too heavy to hold,” Greta says.

“Aw, girl, don’t worry. I got this,” I assure her.

We assemble in a growing crowd of walkers behind a rope. Soon we’re off. People are chatting away, taking swigs of bottled water, listening to iPods, and taking one step at time, as they will be doing for this approximately six-mile walk.

“You feel okay?” Seaphes asks. He’s walking next to me with Veron on his other side and his sister tugging along behind. Tupac is still in my arms. Out of the corner of my eye I notice Ursula Phillips walking behind us, Percy Jones tiredly tagging behind her.

“I feel great, Seaphes,” I say a little too loud. “The weather is beautiful. It’s great to see all these people out here. Shoot, I may catch someone today.”

“That would be great,” Veron says, looking carefully around at everybody who’s walking nearby. No hot men. She shrugs.

Eventually we step onto North MacGregor Drive, a street filled with aging mansions that reflect the rich history of Houston’s Third Ward. With its towering trees and horseshoe driveways, the boulevard is bordered by the wide stretch of Brays Bayou, which includes a curved hiking trail lined by an oasis of trees and shrubs.

“Look, Tupac. Isn’t the water beautiful?” I say, pointing.

He hops up and down in my arms, and it’s so cute I squeeze him against my chest in a loving hug.

Suddenly I look up and see Thaddeus and Marilyn pass by us, only a few feet away. I stop in my tracks.

“Dang, he’s getting a little bit heavy,” I murmur and look back at Greta.

“Oh, girl, sorry about that. I’ll take him now.”

I hand him over and click off the volume on my iPod. I run a few steps ahead, leaving my crew behind, until I am just inches away from Thad.

I pull out my BlackBerry, hands sweating so much that I nearly drop the phone. I dial Thad’s number. He isn’t even talking to Marilyn as they walk. But I see him reach for his phone, glance at the number, and slide the phone back into his belt clip.

Again I stop walking. Seaphes bumps into me seconds later.

“Oh, sorry,” I say.

When I don’t move, he turns to me. “You alright, Demetria?”

I point ahead of us.

“Who’re you pointing at? There are a million peeps out here.”

“Him” is all I say. Seaphes looks ahead and gets it.

I feel close to collapsing. But Seaphes pats me on the back and gives me pep talks, filling my soul with the strength I need to stay on course the next hour or so. His soothing voice and reassurance keeps me from feeling worse about Thaddeus, but it does little to combat the harsh stares I keep getting from both Veron and Ursula.

—38—

V
ERON

Despite my better
judgment, I agree
to go to lunch with Ursula the day after Walk America.

We decide that, if you’re in the mood for breakfast food, nothing beats eating at The Breakfast Klub, which is known for its waffles and chicken wings, and is probably among the most popular black-owned restaurants in town. We knew we were going to have to take an early lunch; if you don’t get there by 11:30 a.m. the line can extend outside the door and spread down the sidewalk.

We place our orders and find a table in the corner of the dimly lit restaurant.

“Well, I’ll just be honest,” Ursula starts. “I can’t stand what’s-her-face.”

I want to laugh but don’t. “Aw, be nice.”

“How can you expect someone to be nice to a backstabbing bitch like Demetria? She totally dominated Seaphes for almost all of the event. I can’t believe that he was going to get her lunch and sodas after we got back to the tent.”

“Girl, Seaphes is like that. He’s a good ole southern guy and hardly ever forgets his hospitality.”

“I don’t care what his mama taught him about manners; she should’ve added advice about watching out for fake women like your girl. She acted like she was bleeding to death or something. Now, tell me, this man who dumped her, what’s he about?”

“Oh, he’s someone who catered to her every need, but then I guess he decided to get ghost on her. It is shocking to see her go from one extreme to another.” I feel kinda like a snake telling Demetria’s business, but when I think about how selfish she can be, my feelings of compassion are largely quieted.

“Well, there’s something about her that I just don’t trust. Besides,” she says, leaning in closer since the restaurant is getting much noisier. “How can you trust a woman who sleeps with your man?”

“You just saying that, or you know it for a fact?”

“All the signs are there, Veron. Watch how Seaphes and Demetria interact with each other. He is very in tune to her even though he pretends like he isn’t. He had the nerve to tell me they operate on a strictly professional level. He must think he’s talking to a fool.”

“I don’t know. It’s hard to know from just that. She’s just flirty.”

“Well, I’m convinced,” she says. “And girl, I’ve seen this enough to know what I’m talking about.”

Despite myself, I’m starting to have doubts. There have been enough little things that have bothered me…as much as I want to trust Seaphes, what Ursula is saying is starting to nag at me. She sees this and continues. “As a matter of fact, when we get back to work I want you to go in on something with me. It’ll be harmless fun.”

Ursula leans in further and describes what she thinks I should do.

When we get back to work I am prepared to conduct a test. Although I have to admit I have been silently stewing at Demetria ever since she dominated Seaphes’s time for the Walk America event, I know I have to give in and act like we’re on good terms. So I roll by her office still holding my purse and wearing the biggest smile I can muster up.

She is sitting at her desk scrutinizing some documents.

“Hey, Demetria, how was lunch?”

“Oh,” she says, looking surprised. “I thought you were pissed at me.”

“Why would I be pissed at you? May I sit down?”

“Sure, knock yourself out.” She continues concentrating on her work and talks to me without looking at me. “I dunno why. But I passed by your office and said good morning, and you turned your head away.”

“Oh, it wasn’t on purpose. I was busy.”

“You weren’t on the phone. No one else was in your office. You looked dead in my face and ignored me. Is it because of Seaphes?”

“Girl, you gotta be kidding me,” I tell her with wide eyes. “What does he have to do with anything?”

“Nothing, actually, and it’s about time you realized that. I don’t mean to sound insulting, but you gotta be more secure.”

“Oh, like how secure you are with Thaddeus?”

“What did you say? That’s an altogether different thing. Thaddeus is intentionally acting foul—he won’t talk to me, and keeps sending me these stupid text messages…”

“Oh, yeah, what have the messages been saying?”

Demetria grabs her BlackBerry and scrolls through the messages.

“Look at this. I tried to get him to go talk with me, and this is what he writes. ‘I am trying to decide if having a one-on-one will be worth it.’ It sounds so cold, like he never knew me, Vee.” She puts the phone down between us on her desk. “I am this close to cursing his ass out, but I’ve been chilling. And that’s because of your man, okay? He’s been keeping me sane. Talking me out of doing things I might regret. He gives me good advice and I need that, you know that, right?”

“Right,” I say slowly. “Of course.”

Her office phone rings and she picks up and listens for several seconds.

“What?” she says, looking confused. “What the hell are you calling me about that for?” She listens for another few seconds, then turns around a little to yell into the phone. “Damn, I don’t care!” she says. Meanwhile, I reach over and grab her cell phone and drop it into my bag. Easy.

She’s still yelling. “Call somebody who gives a damn!” She hangs up finally and turns to me. “I can’t believe it,” she says.

“What happened?”

“Percy Jones had the nerve to call me just to ask if I looked at TV last night, that
I Love New York
crap with her transvestite-looking ass. He wanted to know who I thought would win. What the hell do I care who she ends up sleeping with? See, Percy and I are hardly on the same level; he can barely hold a conversation with me. That’s why he’s messing around with Ursula.”

“Yeah, they both deserve each other.”

“Wait a second, weren’t you two acting buddy buddy yesterday at Walk America?”

“Girl, I was just being nice. She was gossiping, wouldn’t shut up.”

“Well, at least you know how to pick your friends. I don’t know what any man would see in a woman like her.”

I stand up and excuse myself, grateful that she is so busy running off at the mouth that she doesn’t notice I slipped her phone inside my purse.

As planned, Ursula and I meet up on the third floor in the ladies’ room.

“You get it?” I ask.

“No, actually. I was in there for a while, but he wasn’t about to leave while I was there. Excuse me for saying so, but your boy was acting like a real prick. It seems like every time he sees me he gets on the immediate defensive. I guess I’ve screwed up royally with him.”

“Whatever happened between you two?”

“We were lovers,” she says point-blank, and looks like she’s going to keep talking.

“Okay, I don’t want to hear any more. But…you two are through, right?”

“Huh?” she asks distractedly. “Oh, yeah, you don’t have to worry about him ever wanting to hook up with me again.”

“But you still want to hook up with him?”

She just stares at me with emotionless eyes.

I hand Ursula Demetria’s phone, tell her that I’ll see her later, and prepare myself to do one of the hardest things I’ve ever done. It feels weird to say you care about someone but you still don’t know if you should trust him. I guess it’s the way Hillary Clinton feels about Bill. She totally stood by her man when he publicly humiliated her with his philandering. You have to wonder if, behind closed doors, she pulled off her earrings and pumps and socked him in the eye on a few occasions.

I head up toward his office, and as soon as I lay eyes on Seaphes I can’t help but break out into a genuine smile. I can’t believe I’m playing games with him. He looks especially fine today, in his three-piece Armani, shoes shined to perfection, hair freshly cut. And he smells so good that at first I don’t say anything, just stand there inhaling him for a minute. Why can’t I just trust him? But I can’t stop thinking about what Ursula said. She sounded so sure. And I don’t want to be the last one to know if anything is going down between him and my friend.

“You going somewhere?” I ask, nodding at his fancy clothing.

“Yep, got an important meeting. And now my freaking printer is acting up. I need to print ten copies of a proposal. Can you help me, please?”

Blushing with the foolishness of what I’m about to do, I ask, “You want me to sit here and try to get the copies to print?”

“Yes, thank you so much! That way I can run downstairs for a few minutes and see if the project manager has the drawings I requested.”

And just like a man, Seaphes rushes from his office but leaves his keys and his cell phone prominently spread out on his desk. He makes things so easy, I think, and I grab his phone, rotating the track wheel and clicking it until it displays the call log. It shows me every number that has been dialed and received for the past ten days: Greta, Veron, Timothy, Aunt Crystal, Marimon (his boss), Sparkle, Floyd, Bank, Gerald, and quite a few other names. No Demetria.

When he comes back in, I hand him the documents that I got to print out while he was gone. “Here you go, baby. You get to your meeting. Good luck.”

“Thanks, Veron,” he says, looking me in the eyes and smiling. “You’re the best woman I know.” He gives me a quick kiss and leaves.

Feeling lower than the bottom of a coal mine, I sit at his desk and pull out drawers. Supplies, books, stationery. Finally I come across a file labeled
PERSONAL
as Seaphes’s office phone rings.

The caller ID says Demetria.

I pull out Seaphes’s personal file and tuck it under my arm, walk out of the office, and go to meet Ursula.

“You get his phone?” she asks.

“Girl, I looked at it, but I’m not going to steal the man’s phone.”

“Are you kidding?” she snaps. “We can copy and paste his address book and print out the info.”

“I don’t think it’s necessary to do all that.”

“Yes, it is! ’Cause with a man like Seaphes, it’s not just Demetria that you have to worry about. It’s the other freaks that he hides in the closet.”

“Ursula, you’re scaring me.”

“I’m not the one you should be scared of,” she insists. “It’s those other two conniving people that you gotta watch.”

“Yeah, but I didn’t see any calls to Demetria, so maybe he’s not as into her as you think.”

“Homeboy may have erased her incoming calls and texts. I
know
she texts him.”

“I’m sorry; how would you know all that?”

“Because people are stupid enough to say things to people, and those people come back and tell me. And I don’t forget certain information. You never know when you’ll need to use it.”

“Well, I’m just going to leave it. I looked through the phone.” I pause. “What about Demetria’s?”

Ursula waves it at me. “This tramp got so many men’s phone numbers in her address book that my hands are getting tired from flipping through this info. Shoot, is there anybody in Houston she hasn’t screwed?”

“Well, I got his personal file and I want to look through it, but I refuse to do it here. Let’s go sit in my car.”

“Great idea,” she says.

We head down and settle in my car. Ursula makes all kinds of disapproving sounds as she looks through Demetria’s phone. “Yep, she texts your boy a lot.”

“Let me see,” I say, feeling a little scared.

“See this name Sparkle? It’s attached to her cell number.”

“Hmm, sneaky,” I say and read the texts.

CALL ME.

LUNCH 2DAY?

DID U ENJOY UR SELF LAST NITE?

“Wait, what does she mean by that?” I say. I show the message to Ursula.

“Uh-huh. See? I bet they hooked up for a nice little fuck session. Bitches are so stupid. One thing you never do, if you’re a smart ho, is leave a paper trail. No text messages, e-mails, nothing that mentions the hookup. Nothing is private anymore, it’s a damn shame,” she says, energetically looking through Demetria’s phone.

I give her a funny look and start flipping through Seaphes’s personal papers. His time sheet notes that he’s been out several times in the last few years for funerals, which is sad. I dig through a lot of papers with his insurance information, that kind of thing. Suddenly, my eyes enlarge when I notice a silver-framed photograph showing Seaphes grinning as he poses cheek to cheek with a woman sitting on his lap. She’s smiling too, holding up her hand and flashing a gorgeous ring on her wedding finger. And she’s wearing a sterling silver heart-shaped pendant that bears an inscription:
SEAPHES LOVES SAPPHIRE
.

“Who the heck is she? I never knew he was engaged….” I stop talking, too angry to realize he had more than one fiancée.

“He’s a sneaky bastard,” she says, awed.

“You know, I can’t do this anymore. My head is starting to hurt,” I say, feeling the painful lump in my throat. “Maybe this is why they say be careful what you looking for. That’s why I’ve never done a criminal history background on a man or gotten on that site DontDateHimGirl.com. Some things I just don’t want to know.”

“Veron, when it comes to your man you have to know certain things, even if it hurts,” Ursula says. “Shoot, you think I enjoyed waffling through my husband’s shirts and pants pockets after he’d been gone all night? You know how it felt when I went through his briefcase and found hundreds of Polaroids of strange, fat white women in various provocative poses?”