Tears on a Sunday Afternoon (5 page)

I walked toward the front door. “We’ll be back for our things.”

“Daddy, but Mommy…” Emerald ran to Lauren. They hugged and she kissed him.

“Go with your daddy. I’ll see you later.”

Lauren watched me with hate-filled eyes. I returned the same look.

“Go to the car, Emerald. I’ll be right there.”

“Daddy, where are we going?” Emerald asked, moving to the door.

“Go to the car,” I repeated.

When the door was shut, I turned to Lauren; my face strained with anger.

“You should’ve killed me,” Annette said, holding a green towel around her head.

“Next time, I promise that I will.” I was glad to make that promise. “I’ll be back for our clothes.

“You’ll be back all right. You’ll be back with my son and living right in that room down the hall,” Lauren said, picking up the phone.

The gun in my waist nudged at my skin. Two bullets were all it would take. I would walk up to both of them and calmly put a bullet in each of their foreheads, turn around and walk out the house. I would get into the car and drive until my tank was empty.

I shook my head and walked out of the house. In my life, timing was everything, and tonight was not that time. There would come a time when things would change, but I had to make sure I followed the blueprint.

“Is he asleep?” I asked Julie as she walked back into the living room.

“Yes.” She looked at me in dismay. “I don’t know how much that little boy can take.”

“It wasn’t my fault.” I threw my hands up in the air. “How can that bitch walk around the house at 9:30 P.M., naked except for a strap-on dildo? What happens if my son comes to the refrigerator for a drink or something? This shit will only happen over my dead body. As long as I’m alive, I won’t let this happen to my son.”

“But, Donald, you have zero control over what happens when you’re not there. And, most of the time, you’re not home. You’re always out there in bed with some woman.”

“I’m not at home because that would mean looking at those bitches for a lot longer than I care to. Don’t you think I want to be home with my son?” I was starting to get angry with Julie.

“Don’t give me that look.” Julie pointed at me as she took a seat. “I didn’t put you in this situation.”

“I know you didn’t.” I motioned for her to sit by me.

She remained motionless in the chair across the room. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“Why?”

“I don’t know, but Brian and I are really working out. I don’t think that I could be the kind of friend I used to be with you.”

“Fuck, how long have we been friends?” I asked, rising from the couch, blood circulating in my body at an orgasmic level.

“Don’t act like that, Donald. It’s not necessary.”

“If it’s not necessary, then tell me what is necessary. You’re starting to get dick from this brother now and, all of a sudden, I’m nobody to you.”

“Donald, I know you’ve had a rough evening so I’ll keep Emerald here. I think you should go,” she said, walking to the door.

“Go where?”

“Donald, with the amount of female friends you have, I seriously doubt that you’ll be homeless tonight.” She left the door open and came back to sit on the chair.

I rose and took the keys that I had laid on the foyer table when I had walked in. The door shook for a few seconds after I slammed it. I got into the Benz and headed onto the Belt Parkway. My life was a mess and wrapping around a tree at a speed of over 120 mph would have only emitted a small sound of displeasure from me. But they say if it’s not your time you ain’t going nowhere. I pulled into the Hilton because God wasn’t ready to take my sorry ass.

The short Mexican lady at the front desk asked if I had a reservation; I told her no. Instead of paying $159 for the night, they charged $259 to my corporate American Express card. I took the white pass key with the Hilton logo emblazoned on one side and a magnetic strip on the other up to the room. The hotel cashier asked me if I knew how to use the keys. I smiled because I spent more time in hotel rooms than in my own bed. My rule of thumb was to never sleep in a woman’s house unless she could give you the keys to the front door. A woman giving up the keys to the front door doesn’t mean that she loves you or anything like that. It just makes the insanity plea work both ways. Like I said before, there are always rules to the game. I put my keys down on the small table in the hotel room next to the chair that I hung my jacket on. I picked up the remote next to the TV and lay down on the bed, my feet on the floor. I flipped through the stations, going from reality shows to dramas. The pay-per-view selections were of recent Hollywood duds. I settled on an Asian porno flick. I selected buy so that the $12.95 would be charged to my room. The first scene was two Asian women eating each other out in bed. After they had finished doing each other orally, the dildos came out.

“Fuck!” I turned the TV off and got up from the bed. I grabbed my jacket and headed out the door as if the smoke alarm had gone off in the room. I took the elevator and went to the first floor. The hotel bar was located to the left of the main lobby. I needed a drink like a motherfucker.

There were about ten people in the bar. Three middle-aged white men sat on bar stools, their wrinkled suits providing evidence of a long, exhausting day at the office. They each sat with a chair between them as if they were afraid of spreading their tiredness. There was a group of four young people sharing a pitcher of beer and Buffalo wings. NYC College of Technology logos were imprinted on their gray sweatshirts.

I ordered a Hoodlum and took it to a table with two chairs located three tables away from the college students. I was angrier with myself than Julie. Julie was my rock and my salvation. Life at home was becoming totally unbearable but I needed to stay put until I could leave for good. The Hoodlum tasted like the Hilton was following in the footsteps of Delta. In this case, the bartender had skimped on the alcohol. I thought about going back and asking for more alcohol but my butt felt like lead. The dramatics of the day were taking their toll on my body. It was the replay of my day that had taken me away from my reality. I didn’t see when she came in and I was startled when she spoke.

“You look like the only one here who doesn’t need to be carried to his room. Do you mind?” she asked, pointing to the chair opposite me.

“No,” I said, looking at the blonde white woman pulling out the chair. She rested an apple martini on my table. She was dressed in a sheer white blouse with no bra, her perky breasts pointing at me. Her short denim mini-skirt disappeared under the table, allowing me only a fleeting glance at her legs.

“What’s your story?” She wiggled herself in the chair as her eyes looked through me.

“Life and all its complications.” The ice had melted in the drink, leaving me with water that tasted like unsweetened iced tea.

“My life is the opposite of complicated. I’ve been married for six years to my high school sweetheart. We have two children; Anthony, five, and Mary, two. This was supposed to be the weekend when we got the magic back in the big city.” She stopped to take a sip of her drink. “Magic is the same as lust. Once it’s gone, forget about it.”

“Where’s your husband now?” I asked, glancing over at the bar. I was still trying to decide if I was going to get another drink.

“He fell asleep, after he screwed me with his semi-erect penis,” she said, looking directly into my eyes.

“Maybe you should’ve given him a blow job.”

She laughed, as if I was about to replace Dave Chappelle.

“Look at me. I’m a white girl; our specialty is blowjobs. I sucked that man for half an hour to get his penis semi-erect. I stopped because I was getting dizzy from going up and down and his penis was starting to deflate.”

I stared at her small, thin, pink lips. My dick had begun to itch. “So what do you want to do?”

“Aren’t you the one from big bad New York City? What do you think I should do?” She continued to hold my gaze.

“We could go upstairs and fuck,” I said.

“What would that do for me?” She bit into the slice of apple they had put in her martini.

“I’m not a psychiatrist. You implied that you were tired of semi-erect dick so I offered a hard one. You could take it or go upstairs to your husband.” I pushed my drink away.

She picked up my glass and drank the remainder from her glass. “Life is complicated.”

I watched as she walked to the bar. Her legs were long and well-toned. Her butt lifted up the skirt; making a nice indentation. I was going to fuck her.

“Hoodlum, you don’t look like one,” she said, placing the fresh drink in front of me. “You look more like a pretty boy.”

This small talk was getting us off the topic. “Is your husband going to be up soon?”

“The hotel has to be on fire for my husband to wake up.”

That was all I needed to hear. I put the glass to my mouth and finished the drink. She followed suit.

“What room are you in?” She pushed the chair back. I followed her action.

“Room 224.”

She smiled. “Maybe life is not that complicated after all.”

I followed her up the stairs to my room. She leaned against the side of the wall, next to my door, while I slid the card in to unlock the door.

“What’s so funny?” I asked.

“We’re in room 220.”

My dick became erect immediately. I grabbed her hand and rested it on the door knob. I came around behind her; lifting up her skirt. She didn’t have on any panties. I slipped a condom onto my penis and I entered her immediately. I pounded into her fast and furious. As her decibels increased, I became even more excited. I was thinking about her husband, maybe asleep, maybe not, two doors down from us. It was giving me an erection that Viagra couldn’t compete with. This was a good release from the tension of the day. I didn’t know her last name and most likely I never would. We were two strangers reaching out for solace in a cruel world. Tomorrow belonged to no one right then. The sweat from my brow was dripping onto her pale butt. As I felt her body shiver, my scrotum started to itch and together we were about to collapse onto the floor. As we did, she let go of the door as if her hands were useless to her. I absorbed the force of the fall as I turned toward my right side and she fell on top of me. My penis lay flaccid against my leg as a door slammed outside. I got up off the floor, extending my hands out to her to lift her up. She clasped her hands around mine and, for the first time, I felt the warmth of her hand. I pulled the condom off and pulled up my pants as she adjusted herself.

“Can you open the bar and bring me one of the small bottles of Bacardi?” she asked.

As I went toward the small refrigerator, I sighed. I didn’t need any more company for the night. “You want another drink this late?”

“No, but I need to do something.”

I opened the cheap bottle of Bacardi and gave it to her.

“Thanks.” She took the bottle and threw it down the front of her dress. The small remainder she drank quickly.

“Tricks of the trade?” I asked.

“No. Believe me or not, I’ve never cheated on my husband.”

Normally I would’ve replied that Bush loved poor black people but I didn’t.

“A girlfriend of mine told me about this. I have to go directly to the shower when I get in the room and I don’t know what state my husband will be in when I get in. Now I don’t care since I have every reason to go and take a shower. And God forbid he picks up my clothes, the smell will totally disgust him. You’re a man so I’m sure you have some secrets.”

“Yeah, I do, but this is a good one.” I smiled.

“Thanks.” She opened the door and poked her head outside.

“Maybe I’ll see you again.” I lied.

She looked back at me as if to say that I was dreaming. “No, it’s time to go home forever. But thank you for everything.”

I nodded and she walked out the door, closing it gently behind her.

After she left, I walked to the door and tested it to make sure that it was locked. I threw myself on the bed and night turned into day. The ringing of the cell phone jarred me awake and I stumbled toward the table. I picked it up and flipped it open. I didn’t look at the number on the phone.