Authors: Carl Weber
Tags: #Fiction / African American - Contemporary Women, #Fiction / Contemporary Women, #Fiction / African American - General
Not too long ago, I would have expected her to start crying, begging me not to divorce her, but this time, she just tucked the envelope into her purse and said, “My attorney is looking over the papers,” and then kept it moving. “I’ll be in touch in about a week or two. Have a nice life.”
It felt like I was being dismissed right in front of all those gossiping heifers, who were hanging on every word like they were watching a soap opera. They obviously couldn’t wait to start running their mouths about what was going on between Connie and me… or Connie and Daryl… or whatever.
Speaking of Daryl, he’d stopped at the bottom of the steps and waited while Connie and I had our little exchange. Now he was standing there looking like he was dude from the Old Spice commercial. I was divorcing Connie, but something about this guy parading her around like she was some sex kitten pissed me off.
“You sure spending a lot of time with my wife,” I snapped at him.
“Soon-to-be
ex
-wife” was his slick-ass reply. “And well, have you taken a good look at her lately? Somebody has to do it.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” I asked as he came up the stairs.
He got in close to me as if he were about to share some deep wisdom, and then he said, “What it means is that you had a beautiful wife, a real good woman, and you fucked up.” He looked over at Connie and allowed his eyes to roam her body from head to toe, his eyes lingering on her ass.
I wanted to punch him. He was lucky I’d promised Cain I’d lay low while he was out of town. Next time, he wouldn’t be so lucky.
“You fucked up real bad,” he said, then placed his hand around Connie’s waist. He looked over his shoulder and winked before disappearing into the building with Connie, which for some reason infuriated me.
I hadn’t been able to sleep in days and it was starting to show. The bags under my eyes were bigger than some of the purses Kim Kardashian carries. It was getting so bad I couldn’t even stand to look at myself in a mirror. I needed sleep badly before all this ugly became permanent.
I’d decided to go out to the park and play some handball like I used to do in the old days. I was hoping that the physical activity would tire me out enough so that I could at least get in a good nap. Heading back to my apartment all sweaty now, I planned to take a warm shower and crawl under the covers.
I didn’t want to admit it to myself, but my lack of sleep was due to the incident with Daryl last week. It had me physically and mentally out of whack. I still couldn’t believe I’d accused him of trying to rape me. Of all the excuses I could have come up with, that one had to be the worst. The fact that Daryl could hardly even look at me and definitely wouldn’t talk to me now was driving me crazy. It didn’t seem like anything could tear my thoughts from him—except maybe those blue boxes Slim left behind, and those seemed to be coming a little less frequently all of a sudden.
“Uggggghhhh!” I kicked a can on the sidewalk. If only there was something I could do to let Daryl know how bad I felt about that little stunt I pulled. But what words could I possibly say to make him understand? Even if I had the right words, it wasn’t likely I could get him to listen to me anyway.
I rounded the corner near my building, and like every other day, I saw Nancy, Pam, and Ms. Bertha—the three Wicked Witches of the
West as I called them behind their backs. They were gathered around the stoop with their eyeballs peeled, looking like buzzards in search of a carcass. What new juicy bone of gossip were they tearing apart now, I wondered.
Nancy saw me coming and called out cattily, “Your daddy was here looking for you.”
“He’s gone now, though,” Pam said with a smirk as I approached the stoop. “Got run off by the man from 3B.”
“What?” My voice jumped an octave higher. Why would Daryl and Daddy get into it unless…?
Oh, God, I hope Daddy didn’t hear that he tried to rape me.
“What happened?” I asked.
“You ain’t heard? Your stepmomma is stepping out with the man from 3B,” Nancy announced, more than happy to spread the gossip. Had it been any other news, I might have played along, but I wasn’t about to listen to this bullshit.
“Stop lying,” I sneered.
Nancy raised her hand and testified, “If I’m lyin’, I’m dyin’.”
Although I felt like she’d hit me in the solar plexus, I stood up tall and scoffed, “Y’all really need to get a life.” Meanwhile, my heart was pounding. I didn’t know whether to laugh or to scream.
No way would Daryl stoop that low to mess with Connie… would he?
I was barely up three steps past their little huddle when I heard one of them say under her breath, “She think she all that since she got engaged to Slim.”
“Well, from what I saw, Miss Goody Two-shoes ain’t so good. Slim might be falling for that ol’ bull, but I know better. I saw her tonguing Daryl in the hallway the other day. I know what she told Slim, but I saw what happened, and these eyes don’t lie,” Pam whispered loud enough for me to hear.
“Say what?” Nancy replied.
“Mmm-hmm. She’s already cheating on him and they ain’t been engaged a month. She ain’t shit.”
I couldn’t believe these brazen heifers, talking about me within
earshot like I wasn’t even there. I didn’t give a damn if there was some truth to it. I turned around as I pushed open the front door and threw a remark over my shoulder. “You bitches need to mind your business. And I know you ain’t talking, Nancy, or you either, Pam, ’cause you two the only ones around here who don’t know that y’all sharing the same man. And your ass is married, Nancy.” There was a long silence, and everyone but Nancy and Pam lowered their heads. “Now, y’all want something to talk about, talk about that.”
Once I closed the door behind me and was out of sight of the Wicked Witches, I buried my face in my hands. I was devastated by what they’d said about Daryl and Connie, and tears fell freely from my eyes as I walked to my apartment.
He wouldn’t do that, would he? He wouldn’t mess with Connie just to get back at me. I’m the one who’s vindictive, not him. He wouldn’t do that to hurt me. Would he?
Oh, God, between the lack of sleep and now this, I was an emotional wreck.
I went into my apartment and flopped down onto the couch. Angry tears were still falling. Why would Daryl want to hurt me this way?
With tears still blurring my vision, I pulled out my phone and typed in Daryl’s number. I sent him an angry text:
a little birdie told me that ur fucking my stepmom connie. how could you?
I’d sent him several texts since the incident in the hallway and he hadn’t responded to any of them, so I was shocked when my phone beeped to alert me to an incoming text. I wiped my eyes and read this response:
connie! have u lost your mind?
I dashed off an angry reply:
no but u must have if it’s true. if u were trying to get back at me for what happened with slim in the hallway the other day this is not the way.
His response came fast:
if ur with slim why do you care who i’m with?
I had to read that one twice. What did he mean by “with”? Was he saying he was actually with Connie, or was he talking about being with someone in general? Either way, I didn’t want to think about him being with anyone but me. I had to convince him that we were meant to be together.
I texted back:
1st she’s my stepmother and i hate her. 2nd i’m a very jealous woman. 3rd i love you. 4th i don’t think i can live without u.
Plain and simple, that about wrapped up how I felt.
It took him a while to respond this time, but I felt relief wash over me when I read his text:
why don’t u come up.
I couldn’t type a reply fast enough:
really? do you mean it?
He replied:
as long as you put something sexy on.
My heart leaped with excitement. I texted back:
you ain’t said nothing but a word. give me five minutes.
I rushed to the shower, perfumed up, and threw on one of my sexiest Victoria’s Secret negligees with a matching thong. I touched up my makeup and freshened up my lip gloss, then put on a pair of stilettos. Putting a London Fog coat over my negligee, I headed out to win back my man. I was so excited I was already moist.
I knocked on the door four times before Daryl answered. “Who is it?” he called through the door, sounding a little irritated.
“It’s me.”
Finally, Daryl cracked the door an inch. Even so, I could see Connie’s fat ass peeping over his shoulder. I almost lost my lunch.
“Can I help you?” Now his voice had a whole lot of attitude.
“Yes, can
we
help you?” Connie opened the door all the way.
I stared blankly at him for a second, trying to grasp what was going on. Had he set me up? Did he tell me to come over just to humiliate me?
“What is she doing here?” I blurted out.
Connie countered with, “The question is, what the hell are you doing here?”
“You… you played me,” I said sadly to Daryl. I felt like such a fool standing there in my negligee. That bastard had probably had a good laugh with Connie, telling me to come over in something sexy.
Yet he still played dumb, like he had no idea what was going on. “I didn’t do nothing to you,” Daryl said, sounding perplexed.
“He’s right, Krystal.”
I recognized Slim’s voice right away. I turned to see him walking
over from the stairwell, and I swear it was like I saw our whole relationship flash before my eyes. “He didn’t play you,” Slim said. “You played yourself, you dumb ass.”
“Slim, I—Wha…?” Shit. How was I supposed to lie my way out of this one? It wasn’t like I could accuse Daryl of attempted rape, considering how I was dressed and the fact that Connie was standing right beside him. Having no clue what I could say to Slim, I finally just went with, “How did you know I was here?”
“It’s a funny thing about those text messages. They sure can get people into a lot of trouble if they get sent to the wrong person.” He held up his phone, reading from the screen, “First, she’s my stepmother and I hate her. Second, I’m a very jealous woman. Third, I love you. Fourth, I don’t think I can live without you.”
Oh no! My heart sank. He was right; I was a dumb ass. I was so upset before that I must have mistakenly typed in Slim’s number instead of Daryl’s without even noticing it. How the fuck could I have been so stupid?
“Slim, baby, this is all a misunderstanding. You see, I was only trying to see if this bitch Connie was messing around behind my father’s back.”
Slim looked down at my stilettos and my bare legs, and his face twisted into a look of pure hatred. “Bitch, I am so sick of your lies.”
I started sputtering desperately, “Slim, baby, you know you always got what I need. Baby, you gotta listen to me.”
“Yeah, I always got what you need all right, but that’s coming to a stop too. You can forget ever getting one of these from me again.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out one of his little blue boxes. I almost jumped out of my skin when he threw it at me. I tried to catch it, but the box opened in midair and its contents flew out, covering my face, hair, and overcoat with white powder.
“What the hell is that?” Connie turned to Daryl, but his attention was on me.
“Cocaine,” Daryl said sadly, finally turning his head toward Connie. The disappointment in his eyes was more than I could bear. “She’s back on cocaine.”
“Back on? This bitch has been a junkie for years. The day I met her she damn near freebased an eight ball by herself,” Slim said.
“Wow… is that why she’s been looking so out of it lately?” Connie asked.
I wanted to crawl into a hole somewhere and die. My secret was exposed—and it wasn’t just that I was addicted to cocaine. The saddest part was that truthfully, my relationship with Slim had only lasted this long because he kept me supplied with coke. I know it sounds pathetic, but the thing that hurt the most was knowing that Slim would no longer be bringing me those little blue boxes.
Slim stepped up to Daryl, his face twisted into a grimace, and pointed his finger in Daryl’s face. “Dude, I don’t like you and I’m gonna tell you like this: stay away from me and mine.” Then he turned to me. “Get your ass down these stairs.”
I moved like my life depended on it. Maybe I could save this relationship after all.
My man Cain sure knew how to live life to its fullest, and I was now totally convinced that his way was the best way. It had only been about five or six weeks since that day we met on the bridge, but I’d totally changed my life around. For the first time in five years, I was financially stable. I ate in the fanciest restaurants, wore the finest clothes, drank the finest spirits, and fucked the finest bitches.
There was nothing I couldn’t accomplish if I put my mind to it. I’d proven that earlier in the day, when Cain and I took down a pawnshop in New Jersey for almost two hundred grand in cash and another hundred grand in jewelry. It was our largest score to date, and the first one I’d planned entirely by myself. Cain had praised me so much when we got back to his place you would have thought I discovered a cure for cancer.
I was supposed to be out celebrating with him and the girls at some club in Long Island, but I hadn’t left Queens yet. I’d made a detour over to my old building to see Connie. It might have seemed like I was going to my old building more than I had when I lived there, but it wasn’t even like that. I wasn’t sniffin’ around trying to see what Connie was up to with that guy Daryl. Hell, if I wanted her, she’d be mine. After all, technically she was still my wife. Anytime I came by, it was strictly business. This time she’d called me up to let me know that her lawyer had approved the paperwork and that I needed to drop off the rest of her money. It just so happened that I had a pocketful of cash, so I was bringing her what I liked to think of as my ticket to freedom.
As I rode the elevator up to the third floor, I wondered if Connie was with that asshole from 3B again. I couldn’t forget my last visit and the way that smug bastard had acted. I didn’t know who the hell he thought he was, but I had something for his ass this time if he tried to embarrass me.