I can’t put the blame on anyone but myself. I realize I have to take responsibility for my actions too. Well, so far, I mean, there won’t be any actions. Today, when we were playing touch football, I couldn’t believe I almost kissed her. We were so close and she felt so good! I almost kissed her, and my hand lingered a little too long on her breast. But that won’t happen again. That shit freaked me out! My best friend’s wife! Man, that’s fucked up! I decided today that I am going to have to control my feelings and distance myself from her gradually. I wouldn’t do anything to hurt my man Brice.
Once we got back to the house I called Renee, the fox from church, and asked her out for tonight. I knew she’d been checking me out at church earlier today. I saw her looking at me out of the corner of her eye several times. I pretended not to notice her. And to be honest, I didn’t, because my eyes were on Mia, but Renee has it going on. She has all the right equipment: big butt, big legs and big breasts. I think my chilling-out period is over. You have to be careful with these churchwomen. They want you to at least pretend that they are holier than thou, show them some respect, once it’s said and done, they will drop the drawers and open wide just like any other woman.
Yeah, you can always tell when a sister wants you. For a second today, I thought I felt that in Mia. Anyway, Renee and I are going out tonight to the movies, and I bet she can make me forget all my problems.
I was right on target as usual. Renee was a little freak. By the time the evening ended, I had had her every which way but loose. She could have been an aerobics instructor, she was bending all kinds of ways. We were all over the bed, floor, her dresser, you name it. She definitely made my return from “chilling out” memorable.Yeah, she definitely knew how to work that ass. Renee had me screaming out like a little bitch. She could put a grind on you that made you want to slap your Moms. I fell asleep before my head hit the pillow, but when I woke up I made a big mistake. I made the mistake that all men fear.
Renee woke me up the next morning by kissing all over my face and chest. I guess she wanted some more before she left for work. But I was beat. She had worn me out. So I was still kinda half asleep when I pulled her close to me and called her Mia. The shit hit the fan. She called me every name but the name of God, and what could I say? I was busted. Cold busted.
23
Mia
T
his has been one of the best Christmases ever. Christmas has always been one of my favorite holidays, ever since I was a child and Daddy would spoil me. I thought I would be miserable without Brice by my side, but I’m not. I’m actually having a ball and enjoying my freedom. Hmmm. I talk to Brice every night. It’s amazing how I miss him when he’s away. He always says the right things, and I can feel his love pouring through the phone. But when he gets home it can be a different story. I never know which Brice is coming home, my black knight or the mean muthafucka.
I have heard so many tales about the adventures of Brice and Christian since I have been staying at my mother-in-law’s. She is so loving and warm, but that husband of hers can be a trip. He doesn’t say much, but when he does he expects everyone to jump at his beck and call. He better get real. I take enough shit from his son. He has been in poor health the last couple of years, but from what I heard he was a mess. He is very proud of Brice and Christian, whom he treats as his own. Women, he treats like servants.
Hopefully, Brice will be here in two more days. Christian has been great as usual. Lately he has been seeing this lady from church. It’s very obvious that Renee likes him a lot. A few times, Renee and I have gone out shopping for items for the church ball that is coming up in two days, just in time for me and Brice and Christian and Renee to attend. I’m really excited about it because it’s a fund-raiser to help renovate the church. It will be a formal affair with a band and ballroom dancing. Mama and I picked out this sexy black gown and black shoes for me the other day when we were at Lenox Mall. Mama is doing better, much better. She said that she still has her good days and bad days, but lately there have been more good days. She told me that she will never let her guard down because she will always be an alcoholic, but she realizes the answers to life’s problems aren’t found in the bottom of a liquor bottle.
I’m proud of her because she—hell, we—have seen some bad times since Daddy died. I thought I was going out of my mind a lot of days. I felt like I was the mama and she was the child. A stinking, pissy, vomiting drunk is not a pretty sight, especially when it is your own mother. I vividly recall coming home from school—I think I was in the eleventh grade at the time—to find Mama passed out on the sofa, reeking of liquor, vomit and her own urine. That day had actually started out good. I had been told that this cute guy, who had transferred from another school, liked me. Looking back, I was depressed and didn’t know it then. Anyway, in the process of trying to clean up Mama, I got the vomit all over me. I finally sank to the floor and just cried. I thought I was losing it. My sanity, back then, came through reading and studying hard. I knew I had to get good grades in order to get a scholarship and escape her. I remember calling Uncle Larry and begging him, literally, to let me live with him and Aunt Ruth. I ate enough meals there that I might as well have moved my clothes in. Uncle Larry told me that Mama was having a rough time of things, but we were family, and family looked out for one another. So I stayed. I still never brought anyone home, out of embarrassment.
Yeah, I hated her, actually hated her at one point in my life. I knew when Uncle Larry found out I was marrying Brice, he thought I was trying to leave home to get away from Mama and her problems that became my problems as long as I lived there. I told him that wasn’t true. I was marrying for love and a little lust. I didn’t tell him the lust part though.
Speaking of parents, the strangest thing happened the other day when Mama and I went shopping. Parents, especially mothers, have a way of sensing when something is not quite right with their children. Mama is no different. I guess it was inevitable that she would suspect that there was trouble in paradise sooner or later. When we talked to each other every Sunday—I never missed a Sunday—I usually kept everything as upbeat as possible. Sometimes I would complain about feeling lonely when Brice traveled, or I would make light of some negative comment that Brice had made. Lately, he had gotten off the cooking comments and was focusing more on my weight. He was always telling me that when he touched me he wanted to feel some meat. He didn’t want to make love to sticks and bones. Evidently, since he couldn’t keep his hands off of me, my weight, or the lack of it, wasn’t turning him off, that’s for sure. He was still getting his and more. Brice is insatiable.
And it wasn’t like Mama and I lived in the same state and saw each other all the time. So I was literally shocked as hell when she starting asking me these questions about Brice and Christian.
Mama and I had finally chosen the perfect black gown for me to wear to the church ball, and we were taking a much-needed break at Chick-fil-A before we started our search for just the right shoes. I was munching on my waffle fries, wondering if Brice would make it home in time for the party and thinking what a good day it had been for Mama and me. Mama had never been one for beating around the bush; she’s very, very direct and straightforward. Still, her question caught me off guard.
“Mia, what’s going on with you and Brice? Don’t tell me nothing, because I know better.”
I looked up from my fries and daydreaming and responded, “Mama, what are you talking about?”
“Girl, don’t look at me like I’m crazy. Why isn’t he here with you, and why are you always with Christian? Are you and him having an affair?”
I stared at Mama in utter disbelief. I didn’t know whether to explode in anger or laugh or cry.
“Mama, you know Brice travels all the time. It’s not like he has a nine-to-five job. He’ll make it here. Don’t worry.You also know the situation with Christian. The Matthews see him as a member of the family, a son. They sorta adopted him after his mother died. So Christian is home with his family, enjoying the holiday season, just like me. We just happen to be here at the same time, but not necessarily together. And, no, Christian and I aren’t having an affair. My God, Mama, be for real. He’s Brice’s best friend. Christian and I are just friends.”
“Ummm-humm, just friends. Right, tell me anything, you think I’m just an old lady who don’t know any better.”
“Mama, you and Daddy raised me right. And if I were having an affair, it wouldn’t be with Brice’s best friend.”
“Yeah, and we also didn’t raise a fool. That man cares about you, and it’s more than as a friend.”
I just looked down and murmured, “Whatever” because I was tired of explaining my relationship with Christian.
I looked up to find Mama staring at me.
“What?”
She hesitated for only a moment and said, “I don’t know how to say this delicately, that’s not my style, so I’ll just say it. Has Brice been hitting you?”
My expression must have gone from shock, to dismay, to shame, to surprise and then to anger. “What are you talking about?”
“Mia, when you were trying on the dresses in the dressing room, I peeked through the curtain and I saw some fading bruises on your arms and legs.”
I didn’t know what to say or how to respond. For a moment, I was speechless and couldn’t bear to even look at Mama. I could feel her piercing stare focused on me, anxiously waiting for an answer to her question.
When I looked back up and met her eyes for a brief second, just a second, I said, “Oh, those bruises. Mama you know how clumsy I can be at times. I fell down the stairs back at our apartment when I was taking out the trash last week.”
She just looked at me ever so calmly and said, “Oh, I see.”
There was an awkward silence as we each sat there lost in thought.
“Mia.”
“Yes?”
“Remember, no matter how bad things may look, you can always come home. I’ll always be here for you. You know that.”
After lunch, I was able to pick out some shoes in record time. I wasn’t being too picky; I wanted to get away from Mama and her accusations about Brice as soon as possible. I suddenly had a horrible headache. I tried to think back to the times the three of us, Brice, Mama and me, had been together. I tried to remember if she had seen or heard anything out of the ordinary. The one and only time she came to visit me in North Carolina, she had walked in from the Food Lion grocery store and seen Brice push me into our bedroom wall. Brice apologized to her profusely. He didn’t to me.
He was upset because I had dropped off his lunch at his office, wearing shorts that he thought were too short. Mama and I had just returned from sightseeing, what little there is to sightsee in Fayetteville. We had stopped by the apartment and went back out to drop him off a sack lunch consisting of Mama’s leftovers, since Brice complimented her so much the night before on her meal. When I walked in, I could feel the eyes taking in my body bit by bit as I greeted everyone and then walked the short distance to Brice’s desk. I don’t know what it is about military men; they all seem to be oversexed or something. You couldn’t pay me to be a female in the armed services.
Anyway, when Brice arrived home that evening, Mama was at the grocery store down the block, picking up collards, neck bones and okra to make us dinner for the next day. She had a key to the apartment, so we didn’t hear her when she came back with her packages. Brice had been screaming at me about my clothes and my flirting, let him tell it, and his temper got the best of him as usual, and he pushed me, no knocked me, into the wall. Mama walked in, in the middle of his tirade and him knocking me into the wall. I had only a slight bruise that time.
Of course, I pretended it was the first time something like that had ever happened, and I thought she believed me because it was never mentioned again.
You would think that Renee and Christian have known each other much longer than a week and a few days. They talked me into going out with them to Club Kaya’s the other night and they were all over each other. I felt like a third wheel, and to be honest, I felt—I know it’s crazy being that I’m a married woman—but I felt jealous. Christian was catering to her every whim. He wasn’t ignoring me or anything, but I wasn’t the center of his attention as I usually am. That night I also caught Renee watching Christian and me interact. I informed her the day that we went shopping that Christian is a good friend and nothing more. She looked at me like she still didn’t believe me.
Anyway, that night we all got a little tipsy. Christian was being the gentleman and dancing with the two of us. He would take turns. It was my turn, and we had started out grooving to a fast song. We were really out of it, at least I was. When a slow song came on by Whitney Houston, the one that she remade and sang better than Dolly Parton ever did, I turned to go back to our table so that he could dance with Renee, since I saw her looking our way in anticipation, but Christian gently pulled me back onto the dance floor.
“Hey, can’t I have this dance?” he asked as he put his arm around my waist and pulled me to him.
“Sure, I would love to dance with you,” I said, doing a curtsy and almost falling flat on my face. Luckily, Christian caught me.