So You Call Yourself a Man (4 page)

Brent, Sonny, and I were at Madison Square Garden. By halftime the Knicks were getting their butts whipped by Shaquille O'Neal and the Miami Heat. That was okay, though. The night was still young, and after the game we were going to head over to Hooters to celebrate Sonny's new job and Brent's last few nights as a bachelor. I tried to arrange a big shindig at a strip club with all of our friends, but Mr. Born-Again Brent nixed that idea a couple of nights ago. I had to twist his arm just to get him to let Sonny and me take him to Hooters.

Despite his holier-than-thou protest during the week, Brent had been in high spirits from the minute we picked him up and headed to the game. I think he was a little more excited about the whole Hooters thing than he wanted to admit. I guess that's how it is when you're going to be married in less than twenty-four hours. You wanna see someone else's titties one last time. You don't necessarily wanna touch 'em, but you do wanna see 'em. Then again, even for an old married guy like me, a beer and some titties sounded pretty good. Who knows, I thought, maybe if we were lucky and he drank enough beer before the end of the game, Brent might let us take him to a real strip club.

I turned to Sonny, who as usual had his cell phone glued to his ear, talking to that bubble-butt, gold-digging wench he called a wife. Damn, I couldn't stand that bitch. It seemed like she was calling every half hour on the hour since he got into town just to see what he was doing. I felt like grabbing his phone and saying, “He's at a basketball game, bitch! Same place he was half an hour ago when you called. Damn! Give the brother a break so he can watch the game.”

I didn't blame her as much as I blamed Sonny, though. We were all dedicated to our women, but I'd never seen anyone as whipped as him. He was mesmerized by that oversized ass of hers. He acted like he was a dog on a leash and she was his master. I was convinced that anything she said, he'd do, and that included jumping off the Brooklyn Bridge. I was starting to get heated just thinking about it, so it was a good thing my cell phone began to ring before I opened my mouth.

I reached in my pocket and hit the talk button without looking at the caller ID. A big mistake, I soon found out.

“James.” It was Michelle, and a wave of anxiety came over me when I recognized her voice. I was supposed to drop off $200 by her house earlier that afternoon, but my route had more packages than I anticipated, and I ended up doing more overtime than I expected. In my haste to get home, shower, and pick up the fellas, I completely forgot about it 'til now.

“I got your money,” I assured her.

“Good, but that's not why I'm calling.”

I hesitated before speaking, and I could feel both Brent's and Sonny's attention turn to me. “Then why are you calling?”

“I need you to babysit your son.”

From the tone of her voice, this was not a request, it was a demand. I turned my back and spoke low so Brent and Sonny could barely hear me. “Michelle, I can't babysit tomorrow. Brent's getting married.”

“Who said anything about tomorrow? I need a babysitter now.”

“Now?” I snapped, glancing at my friends.

“That's right. Now,” she snapped back. “I gotta be at work by nine o'clock and the lady that usually watches him is sick. I can't afford to miss work.”

“What about your mother? Why can't she watch him?”

“My mother's down South, James. She's been down there taking care of my grandmother for the last three months. I don't know when she's coming back.” It almost sounded like she was pleading.

“Michelle, I'm sorry, but I can't do it tonight. I'm already in Manhattan. In order for me to get there by nine, I'd have to leave now.”

There was silence on the line until she spoke in an ominous, threatening tone. “Look, James, I don't have time to argue with you. Now, I need you to babysit, so you might as well get your ass up and come on back to Queens!”

“I heard you the first time, Michelle, so you don't have to yell. But like I told you the first time, I can't do it tonight. I'm busy.”

“Oh, is that right?…Well, is your wife at home? 'Cause if you can't watch him, I'm damn sure gonna ask her.”

All of a sudden my head began to hurt. Michelle had a way of pushing my buttons like no one else. “Don't go there, Michelle,” I said angrily.

“No, James! Don't you go there. I told you before, I'm not playing with you. This ain't no game to me. I will call your wife. So, what's your home number again? Oh, yeah.” She repeated the digits. I'd never heard anyone sound so serious, and it scared the hell out of me, especially when she continued. “Now, she don't go to bed early, does she? 'Cause it'd be a shame to wake the sister up when all you gotta do is come over here and babysit.”

“Aw'ight. Look, let me call you back in five minutes. I'll see if I can arrange something. But I'm gonna call you, so don't do nothin' stupid until then.” I hung up the phone and turned to my friends. “Guys, I got a problem.”

I'd been on the phone with my wife during most of the game, making arrangements for my return to Seattle and our move to New York. We'd decided to rent a house with an option to buy somewhere in Long Island. It would have to be near the Queens border, so I could see my friends. I was thinking someplace like Valley Stream or Elmont, where they still had some black folks and the schools were good.

I loved New York, especially Queens, but I was not about to subject my kids to the New York City public school system. I knew I wouldn't be able to afford to send my kids to private school. James sent both his boys to private school and it was costing him damn near as much as his mortgage payment. I'm sure he wouldn't be able to afford it if Cathy didn't work. I wasn't about to ask Jessica to get a job. She'd been a stay-at-home mom so long, just the thought of going to work would probably give her hives. So, my goal was to get my kids in some decent schools and still be able to afford to own my own home in New York someday.

While my wife and I were working out the details, I heard James shouting into his own phone, “I got your money!” He had this strange look on his face, like whoever he was talking to had him terrified.

“Hun, let me call you back,” I told my wife.

I hung up the phone and turned toward James, who was now trying to hide his conversation. What the hell was going on, I wondered, and who the hell did he owe money to? James wasn't the type to gamble, and if he needed to borrow some money, I'm sure he would have gone to Brent. That's what I would have done.

I made eye contact with Brent, who seemed just as puzzled by James's strange behavior as I was.

When James finished his conversation, he turned to us, looking defeated. “Guys, I got a problem.”

“What's up?” Brent asked, his voice filled with concern.

James lowered his head and whispered, “I can't hang out tonight. I've gotta go take care of something.”

“Excuse me,” I said in disbelief. “You can't leave. You're the one who insisted we all go out tonight. Did you forget the man's getting married tomorrow?”

James turned to Brent. “No, I didn't forget, and I'm sorry, Brent, but something's come up. It's important. I've gotta go back to Queens.”

“Back to Queens for what?” I stared at my friend. This wasn't like him. James didn't keep secrets from us. If anyone, I was the one who kept the secrets.

It took a while for him to speak, but when he did, I was even more confused. “I gotta go babysit.”

“Babysit? Babysit who? What's going on, James?” If you think I was annoyed, you should have heard the irritation in Brent's voice.

“It's a long story.”

“Well, then, give us the short version,” I demanded. I continued to stare at him in amazement. The brother couldn't even look at us.

“I really ain't got the time. I gotta get back to Queens before nine, so I don't piss her off.” He tried to stand up, but I placed my hand on his shoulder and pushed him down. He glanced at Brent, then at me. I think he finally realized he wasn't going anywhere without giving us an explanation. A full explanation.

“Okay, okay, but you've gotta promise not to tell anyone. Not even your wives. If this gets back to Cathy, my marriage is over.” He glared at us both, tight-lipped, waiting for our reply.

“Don't worry, James. We're not gonna say anything. Are we, Sonny?” Brent's eyes moved to me.

“Nah, bro, you ain't got to worry. Shit, we got your back. You know that.” This whole thing was starting to get interesting. The only time I'd ever seen James act all secretive like this was when he was fooling around with this girl named Michelle a few years back, but to my knowledge, that was over and done with. Besides, if he was messing with her or anyone else, he would have told me. Or so I thought.

“Y'all remember that girl, Michelle, that I used to see a few years back, don't you?”

Oh, my God, he is fucking her again.

“Who could forget her? For a skinny girl, she had one of the
phattest
asses I've ever seen.” Brent didn't seem to know what we were talking about, so I used my hands to emphasize my statement. “Come on, Brent, you know her, the redbone with the big ol' ba-dunk-a-dunk. Damn, how could you forget her? It ain't like James had a thousand affairs.”

Brent finally nodded as if a lightbulb had just gone off in his head. “Ohhh, yeah, I remember her. The girl from your UPS route, the one you almost left Cathy for, right?”

“Mm-hmmm, that's her. But I wasn't going to leave Cathy for her or anyone else.”

“No, but you're about to leave your best friend's bachelor party to babysit her kid, aren't you?” I asked in disgust. “You just couldn't resist that big ol' booty, could you?”

“Why are you always classifying women by their asses?” Damn, ol' boy had it pretty bad. He was even defending her honor.

“Some people remember faces, James. I remember asses. Now stop trying to change the subject. You messin' with her again, aren't you?”

“Nah, I ain't messing with her, Sonny.” James had a little attitude to his voice now. “But she says I'm her baby's daddy.”

There was a brief, shocked silence as his words registered.

“What did you say?” Brent asked, the disbelief in his voice and on his face.

“I said, she says I'm her baby's daddy.”

“Oh, shit,” I mumbled, clearing my throat as I sat back in my chair. There was another moment of painful silence before Brent and I asked, “Are you?” in unison.

James shrugged his shoulders, giving us the lamest answer we could possibly hear. “I really don't know.”

I jumped out of my seat, pointing my finger in his face. “What you mean you don't know? How the fuck you don't know? Did you fuck her without a raincoat?”

All he did was nod, and I went off on him again.

“Oh, my God! What the fuck is wrong with you?” I was about two seconds away from putting my foot in his ass.

“Sit down, Sonny,” Brent ordered. “Let the brother explain.”

“Explain! There ain't no explanation for this, Brent!”

“I said, let the man explain. Other people are trying to enjoy the game.”

I looked around and everyone in our section was staring at me. So I did as Brent asked, folding my arms and staring angrily at James. I was disappointed in him, really disappointed. He was the one who always had his shit together.

“You're right, Sonny. I should have never slept with her without a condom, but hindsight is twenty-twenty. I just have to deal with the consequences now.”

“So, did you have some type of blood test or something?” Brent asked.

“Nah, I asked her for a blood test, but she threatened to tell Cathy about the baby if I pushed the issue.”

I unfolded my arms. “That's 'cause the baby ain't yours. Can't you see she's trying to trap you? That's why she don't want you to have a blood test. That's what these young girls do.” I was so heated, you would have thought she said it was my baby.

“Yeah, but what am I supposed to do about it? She told me if I don't pay her child support and babysit, she's gonna go to Cathy.”

“Fuck it. Let her tell Cathy. But I wouldn't give that bitch shit!” I told him adamantly.

“He can't do that and you know it, Sonny.” Brent chimed in like he was Johnnie Cochran defending his client.

“Why the fuck not?”

“Because Cathy will divorce me,” James said, “the same way your wife would divorce you if you showed up with a baby by some other woman.”
Yeah, right,
I thought to myself.
My wife's not going to divorce me if I come home with a child out of wedlock—she's going to castrate me
.

“But that baby ain't yours, man,” I protested.

Brent shook his head. “Have you listened to a word the man's said? He's not sure if he's the father himself, so why should you be?” I didn't have an answer for that.

“Look, you guys enjoy the game and Hooters,” James said with finality. “I gotta go babysit.”

“Keep your head up, bro. We're gonna figure a way outta this for you, man,” I told him with certainty.

“The only way out of this is to keep this crazy bitch happy so she doesn't go bothering my wife. And that's exactly what I'm going to do.”

Brent grabbed his arm. “The only way out of this is to put your faith in God and pray on this.”

James looked him in the face and said, “I've been praying, Brent. I'm just waiting for God to answer my prayers.”

“I love you, Mr. Williams.”

“I love you more, Ms. Hendy…I mean, Mrs. Williams.” I smiled as I said it. I was sure my bride-to-be was smiling.

We'd been talking on the phone for about twenty minutes. I was lying on my living room sofa about to take a shower, change into my pajamas, and go to bed in anticipation of tomorrow's big event. After the game, I'd gone to Hooters with Sonny at James's request, but I still couldn't believe he actually left the game to babysit a kid he wasn't even sure was his. Lord, I hoped Cathy never found out about this. Not having James around kinda spoiled the rest of the evening for Sonny and me. We didn't even stay fifteen minutes at Hooters before deciding to leave. When I got home, I prayed, then I called Alison to say good night.

“Mrs. Williams. Lord knows I love the sound of that,” Alison said. So did I. It was hard to believe, but this time tomorrow we'd be on our honeymoon on Paradise Island in the Bahamas. We were planning on trying to have a baby right away. Both Alison and I loved kids, and we both wanted at least two. I wanted to be a dad more than anything in the world.

“Me too. I can't wait to show you off as my wife.”

Alison was quiet for a moment before she said, “Brent? Can I ask you something?” Her tone lost its excitement.

“Sure, baby. What is it?” I sat up.

She never asked a question. It was more like a statement, a confusing statement at that. “You don't have to do this if you don't want to. I'll understand if you wanna back out.”

I pulled the phone from my ear, staring at it before resting it back against my head. “Huh? What are you trying to say?”

“I wanna know if you really wanna marry me. Are you sure you're not just doing this because you feel sorry for me?”

How could she be questioning my love? Maybe she was just having last-minute jitters, but her comment caught me off guard and left me feeling insulted. “Why would you ask me that? You know I love you, Alison. Have you ever even seen me look at another woman?”

“No, but I see the way they look at you. They all want you, Brent, even the married ones. How long are you going to want me, with all of them waiting in the wings for us to fail?”

“Until death do us part,” I answered, confused by her sudden lack of faith in me.

“I hope so, Brent, because sometimes I think that you could do better. That you're just settling with me, and I don't want you to settle.”

“I'm not settling, Alison. I love you.”

“But why? Why me? I'm black as hell, I'm damn near forty, and I weigh over two hundred fifty pounds.” Her curse caught me by surprise. “The only thing I got going for me is my Indian hair.”

“You're the woman I fell in love with, so all the rest of them don't matter. And I don't give a darn if you weigh two
thousand
pounds. I love
you
, Alison, for the woman you are inside. I don't care about that superficial stuff. I want you to be my wife.”

“That's all I wanted to hear,” she answered, sounding more like herself again. “'Cause once we walk down that aisle, I'm never giving you up. And I mean never.”

“I don't want you to give me up. Alison, you're the woman I wanna grow old with.”

She let out a thankful sigh. “I love you too, Brent, more than anything in the world.”

“Good, then we still have a date to meet at the altar tomorrow?”

“I'll be there,” she assured me.

We chatted for a few minutes longer, then said our final good night before hanging up. I took a shower and got ready for bed. I thought about calling James to see how things were going with the babysitting, but before I got to the phone, there was a loud knock on my door. I jumped out of bed.

“Who is it?” I asked as I went to the door.

There was no answer, so I pulled back the curtain on the window beside the door. I did a double take, letting go of the curtain when a figure I recognized turned toward me. There was another knock on the door, and this time I opened it with a sense of excitement and fear.

Jackie Moss, my church's sexy organist, walked into my house. There was no question in my mind that Jackie was intoxicated, but even drunk, Jackie's presence had a way of warming my heart and chilling my soul. It had been obvious from the first time we met that there was a mutual attraction between us. I've got this thing for green eyes, and Jackie's were the greenest I'd ever seen.

“Jackie, what are you doing here?” I couldn't help but stare.

Ignoring my question, Jackie strolled over to my living room bar, taking out two glasses and filling them with Hennessy, then offering me one. It almost fell to the floor in our exchange.

“You're drunk?”

“Uh-huh. I wouldn't be here unless I was.”

“So, why are you here?” I asked again.

Jackie gulped down the entire glass of Hennessy, giving me a look that told me everything I needed to know and more. “I came here to get you to cancel this ridiculous wedding. You can't marry fat-ass Alison Hendy.”

“Why?” I snapped, not happy about the insult to Alison, “because you're jealous?”

Jackie laughed. “Whether I'm jealous or not doesn't matter. The whole congregation is laughing at you, Brent.”

“So, let them laugh. What are they going to say when Alison and I are still together forty years from now?”

Jackie frowned. “Brent, you're the most handsome man in the church. People like you and I aren't supposed to get married.”

“How can you say that? You're married.”

Jackie placed the glass back on the bar and approached me. “That's exactly why I'm telling you that you shouldn't. You don't really love her.”

“I do love her, Jackie. She's everything I ever wanted in a woman.”

“Please. Then why are you looking at me that way? You can't even take your eyes off me. You know it's me you really want.”

I tried to look away, but the truth is the truth. I did want Jackie. I'd never met anyone so attractive, so perfect, but my mother always warned me that if something seems too good to be true, it usually is. In Jackie's case, Momma's words rang truer than ever, because my true soul mate was already married—to a prominent member of our church. In another place and another time, our fates probably would have been different. I'm sure it was the Lord who intervened and forced First Lady Wilson into introducing me to my bride-to-be, Alison. If she hadn't, Jackie and I would have probably started an affair that would have rocked the church. And that was something I would never do.

“Sometimes what you want isn't necessarily what you need,” I said. “I'm sorry, but I will not give in to lust. I love Alison, and I'm going to marry her.”

“You don't love her. Not the way you could love me.” Jackie stepped up and kissed me like I'd never been kissed before. My entire body began to tingle and blood was rushing to places it shouldn't have been. I was so turned on it took everything I had to pull myself away.

“That's where you're wrong, Jackie. I do love her. Maybe not in the physical sense like you're offering, but in an emotional and spiritual sense that will last a lifetime. Now, I think you should leave.”

Jackie grinned at me wickedly. “Do you really want me to leave, Brent?”

I was hesitant, but I nodded.

“Okay, I'll leave. But not before I give you your wedding present.”

“What wedding present?”

“This one.”

Before I could respond, Jackie's lips were pressed against mine and a warm, Hennessy-flavored tongue parted my lips and began to explore my mouth. The alcohol taste didn't bother me at all, and we kissed passionately for a good ten seconds. This time, I couldn't hold myself back. Believe it or not, it was Jackie who ended our kiss abruptly with a grin. “Now, that's a present I'm sure you'll carry with you throughout your marriage. Feel free to share it with your new wife anytime you like. I'll see you tomorrow at the wedding.”

And on that note, Jackie strode toward the door and walked out.