Authors: Electa Rome Parks
After taking a long lunch, I was actually feeling better. Better than I had felt in a while. Taylor is good for me. She had me cracking up with her antics and good nature. At one point she was feeding me pieces of my grilled chicken Caesar salad with her fork.
“Come on, open up. Here comes the choo choo. Oh, I forgot to ask you, how’s your Coke?”
“Delicious, ice cold, and packed full of caffeine and sugar.”
“Good. Well, let’s make a toast to Drake. And then you must order another one.”
We held our glasses up and clicked. Taylor had witnessed Drake’s tirades over me drinking Cokes. I’d come to realize it wasn’t an issue of my health; it was an issue of control with Drake.
“Good riddance.”
“Ditto.”
We were laughing our heads off, being silly and giddy. It felt so good to laugh. In passing, our waiter asked if we had slipped some liquor into our cherry sodas. We giggled even more. But like they say, all good things must come to an end. I glanced down at my watch and realized I had overstayed my lunch hour and my voice mail probably held dozens of missed calls.
Suddenly, I noticed the atmosphere at our table had changed; it became ice cold. I glanced up at Taylor and saw her staring toward the entrance.
“What’s wrong?”
Since my back was to the door, I turned in my seat to see what had stolen her attention and evidently her good mood along with it.
I froze and my hands literally started shaking as Drake’s eyes met mine. I could see the familiar specks of green dancing in his pupils. Taylor sensed my immediate distress.
“Calm down, Kennedy. Be cool. We can leave,” she whispered between clenched teeth. “Just stay cool.”
“Yeah, let’s go. Now,” I barely muttered.
“Shit. His ass showing up made me miss getting my slice of cheesecake,” Taylor nearly screamed in anger.
As Taylor attempted to pay the check and leave a tip, Drake approached our table with a huge smirk on his face. He was looking as handsome as ever in his gray pinstriped suit, and it looked like he had gotten some sun because his skin tone was radiant. He didn’t look like a man who was pining over his woman or the loss of a doomed relationship.
“Hello, ladies. You two are a sight for sore eyes. Two beautiful ladies at one table. Today must be my lucky day.”
Taylor answered, “I wish I could say the same because my eyes have seen enough.”
“Taylor, how are you? Good to see you too,” he said sarcastically. “I see your attitude hasn’t changed. Still sucks.”
“No. I’m still not willing to let you treat me like a second-class citizen. I don’t think you could handle a woman who has a mind of her own.”
“I believe you think you are a man, with balls and all.”
“And if I do, then I’m still a better one than you could ever hope to be.”
Drake ignored her and directed his full attention to me.
“Happy Valentine’s Day, Kennedy. I started to send you some flowers, but then I remembered how you kicked me to the curb. You and I must talk,” he stated, reaching over to touch my left shoulder.
“Don’t. Don’t touch me. Don’t you ever place your hands on me again,” I managed to utter through clenched teeth as I pulled away like his touch was fire.
“You heard her,” Taylor screamed, pushing Drake out of the way and making her way from our table.
“Keep the fuck away from her, you arrogant son of a bitch.”
Following her, I sideswiped people in my path and was almost out the front door when I barely heard Drake call out, “Kennedy, we will talk. That’s a promise. You can’t run from me forever.” When I glanced back, our waiter and Drake were staring at us. There was amusement on Drake’s face and disbelief on our waiter’s.
On our brisk walk back to my building, Taylor managed to calm me down a little.
“K, don’t give that man your power. I don’t know what went down with you guys, but Drake is obviously getting joy out of your pain. Don’t let him. Don’t give him the satisfaction.”
“All I did was love that man. That’s all.”
“I know, sweetie, but sometimes love isn’t enough. He’ll miss you one day. He’ll realize what he lost in you, and you’ll understand what you have to offer a
real
man. In time your heart will heal.”
We had made it back to the front of my building, and all I wanted to do was walk the two blocks to my car and drive home.
“Let’s sit here for a minute,” she stated, gesturing toward an empty bench.
I reluctantly slumped down beside her.
“I’m serious, K. Don’t let Drake deflate your spirit. I don’t know what happened, but don’t let him break you. Okay?”
“Okay.”
“Good. That’s the Kennedy I know and love.” Taylor smiled. “You had mentioned you wanted to talk with me about something. Now is as good a time as any.” She looked at her watch. “I still have some time before I definitely have to be back.”
Sitting there beside Taylor, I sensed the love radiating all around her and I knew I could confide in her because I realized our friendship was genuine. It was the real deal.
I hesitated only a moment. “You know that I’m adopted, that has never been a secret, but I don’t think I’ve ever mentioned my desire to find my birth mom.”
“No, you haven’t, but I can see how you would have a natural desire to know your roots and I’m sure you have tons of questions for your birth mom. I know I would.”
In that moment, I realized I had been right in revealing my plans. She would support me.
“I’m torn because I don’t want Mother to think I don’t love her, because I do, with all my heart, but I have so many questions that have gone unanswered. Then again, I don’t want to betray Mother or Daddy.”
“Kennedy, your mother only wants what is best for you. That’s the bottom line. She loves you and I don’t think she would take it as an act of betrayal on your part.”
“I guess you’re right.”
She nodded and smiled again. “I am right.”
“I wanted to ask you if you’d help me with the process of locating her, my birth mother.”
“Girl, of course. I feel honored, but that was a given. Did you really have to ask me that?”
I audibly sighed a sound of relief.
“Are you feeling better now?” Taylor asked, looking me over.
“A little.”
“Well, that’s a start.”
I glanced at my watch this time. “I’d better get back.”
“Listen, K,” Taylor said. “Call me if you need me. I have a two o’clock meeting, but I should be at my desk after three o’clock, no later than three fifteen.”
“I will.”
“I mean it. Call me.”
“Thanks for lunch.”
“K, you are gonna be all right. Time heals all wounds. That and a new man with a big dick.”
She laughed. I didn’t.
As I headed into the building, I didn’t look back. I tried to walk tall and confident. If I turned around, Taylor would see the beginnings of new tears forming in my eyes. I didn’t want her to see how weak I was. I used the ride up in the elevator to mentally compose myself. I somehow made it through work for the rest of the day and managed to make it safe and sound through rush-hour traffic. All I could think about was my bed; it was my single focus. As soon as I entered my apartment, I was thankful that Mother wasn’t around as I left a track of clothes down the hallway. I stayed up long enough to write an entry in my journal before I was in bed with the covers pulled tightly over my head. In big red letters, I wrote:
Dear Journal,
Today was not a very good day. In fact, today was one of the worst in a while. When I saw Drake at Mick’s, I wanted to die again. With him standing there, gloating down at me, I felt smaller than miniscule. I hate that man. I despise him so much. What does he want to talk about? There’s nothing more to say. We are history, kaput, done. After what he did, there’s nothing more to discuss. I hate him for that. Absolutely hate his ass.
Happy Valentine’s Day. Yeah, right.
Sunday afternoon found me still in my pj’s. I didn’t feel like showering, dressing, eating, or doing anything. I simply didn’t have the energy or the desire. I didn’t understand why I let him get to me. There is always that one person who can just get under your skin. Drake was mine.
Even Mother couldn’t persuade me to attend church service with her at New Hope Baptist Church. As much as I loved to hear their choir sing, I just couldn’t get up. I finally crept out of bed because I had slept more this weekend than any one person was humanly capable of.
I hated myself for acting like the lead female character in one of the many African American relationship books I read. It’s cool to read about somebody else going through drama, but it’s another story when it pertains to you. Lately, my life consisted of relationship woes, drama, sex, and more drama.
Strolling into the living room, I absently turned on the TV and flipped through some magazines that were lying on the coffee table. I had gotten so behind in my reading of
Ebony, Essence, Today’s Black Woman,
and
O Magazine
that they were piled up. Briefly, I thought about fixing myself something to eat, more out of habit than anything else, but I couldn’t muster the energy to get off the sofa.
I did have one bit of good news. Mother informed me that she was thinking about moving back home. She felt that things were going well with me and she could check in on me over the weekends. I was happy because I craved my independence and personal space back.
I didn’t catch her secretly staring at me as much as she did after my situation. Around Mother, I tried to put on a happy face, so I guess she probably thought I was okay. And I was. I still had my bouts with depression, but I had no intentions of harming myself in any shape, form, or fashion in the near future. It was absolutely crazy what I had attempted to do. Never again.
With remote in hand, I crashed on my sofa and pulled a flannel blanket over my body. When the phone rang, I was channel surfing and replaying over and over in my mind my reaction to Drake in the restaurant. At first I wasn’t going to answer it, I didn’t want to be bothered, but at the last minute I picked it up.
“Hello?”
“Hello there, baby girl.”
“Daddy?”
“Yes, your one and only,” he proudly proclaimed. I heard the smile in his Southern drawl and it touched my heart. I missed him so much. There was a time Daddy could do no wrong in my eyes. I’d wanted to find and marry a man just like him. That was before he walked out and left Mother for a younger woman. Though I never admitted it to him, daddy disappointed me. You don’t give up on a lifetime of marriage without a fight.
“What a surprise. We don’t usually talk this much in one month,” I said, curling my legs underneath me as I sat up on the sofa, and made myself more comfortable as I pulled the blanket around me.
“Well, you were on my mind. In fact, you’ve been on my mind a lot lately.”
“Really?”
“Yes. Is everything all right with you, baby girl?” he asked with concern clearly etched in his voice.
“Yes, Daddy. Why would you ask that?” I asked, starting to feel a little nervous. I knew he couldn’t possibly be aware of what had occurred.
“I don’t know. I can’t explain it, but…I’m just glad you’re doing well. I want you to be happy.”
“I am. How’s life treating you?” I asked, quickly changing the subject.
“It could be better.”
“What do you mean by that? Is something wrong, Daddy?” I could clearly hear sadness in his tone that I hadn’t noticed before.
“Don’t tell that mother of yours because I’m sure she’ll gloat for the next forty years, but Loretta left me.”
“What? You’re kidding, right?”
“No, baby girl, I wish I were. She woke up one morning and out of the blue told me that we weren’t working out anymore. Said I was sapping away what was left of her youth. Said I made her feel old beyond her years and she was tired of people mistaking me for her daddy.”
“Wow. Loretta said that? I’m so sorry, Daddy.”
“No. Don’t be, baby girl. Months ago I knew our relationship had started on a downhill spiral when she starting spending an enormous amount of time away from home, at the local gym. Loretta is not the type who is into fitness that way. She told me she needed her space.”
“Oh.”
“It got to the point where we were more like roommates than lovers. I saw her in passing.”
“Really?”
“This is a pretty small town and I started hearing rumors.”
“That’s unbelievable.”
“Well, Loretta had herself a male personal trainer at the gym and I discovered he got a little more personal than necessary.”
“I’m sorry, Daddy.”
“Don’t be. Life goes on. No matter how hurt you may be, life doesn’t stop for your pain. You live and you learn and you’re never too old to learn a new lesson. Remember that.”
“I will.”
“You suck up the pain and get through it. Don’t ever give up on the beauty and joys life has to offer; they far outweigh the disappointments. God can get us through anything life may toss our way.”
I listened.
“Don’t get me wrong. Loretta has been gone for over a week now and it hurt when she moved out, still does. Our apartment feels so empty. We built a decent life for ourselves during the last five years. However, it just wasn’t enough for her; I wasn’t enough.”
“I don’t know what to say.”
“Sweetie, you don’t have to say anything; sometimes being an ear to listen is golden. In some ways, I was relieved she left because Loretta was never your mother. Couldn’t clean or cook worth a damn. She never ironed or folded my clothes the right way or bought and cooked my favorite foods. It’s funny because when she left, it made me think about how your mother must have felt when I walked out.”
“I don’t…”
“It’s true. What goes around comes around.”
“That’s what they say. Karma has a way of evening out the score.”
“Baby girl, I can only imagine what your mother has said about me since I left. Some of it is probably true and well deserved. Just know I never wanted to bring you into our situation, or hurt anyone, you or your mother. But I know this has been hard on you, whether you care to admit it or not.”
“Daddy, don’t—”
“And, I’m sorry, baby. I truly am,” he cried. “I know you are all grown up, but you are still my baby and always will be.”
“Daddy, there’s no need for you to apologize to me. It’s your life and you have to live it the way you see fit. You can’t worry about what other people think.” I realized I was repeating his words to him. “You only get one chance.”
“You’re right. Even if I came out looking like a fool in the end, which I did, this was something I had to do. Your mother was all I had ever known. I loved her, but I felt cheated and trapped. I owed it to myself to see what else was out there,” he ranted on like he had to rationalize his actions to himself. “The grass always seems greener on the other side.”
“Um-huh.”
“Speaking of the number one nagger herself, what has she been up to lately? Believe it or not, I actually picked up the phone the other night and almost dialed her number.” He chuckled lightly at just the thought.
“Really?” I was thinking that he wouldn’t have found her there, and if he had, he wouldn’t have cared to hear what Mother had to say. She would have given him an earful and then some. It would not have been cute.
“Yeah, but at the last minute, I came to my senses,” he laughed. “How’s old gal doing?”
“Mother’s doing fine.”
“She spending time with anybody?”
“You have to ask her.”
“Oh, I guess you have strict orders not to discuss her with your old man?”
“Something like that.”
“I should have known.” He chuckled again and coughed. “She still baking those peach cobblers and serving up her golden fried chicken by the buckets?”
“You know it, that will never change. Daddy, hang in there. Okay?”
“Just talking with you has made me feel one hundred percent better. And it’s been too long. I’m gonna have to come up there and see my baby girl face-to-face. Give you a big ol’ hug and kiss.”
“I would like that because you’re right, it has been too long.”
“Listen, tell your mother I said hello and hopefully one day soon she’ll find it in her heart to forgive me. Okay, sugar?”
“I will, Daddy. I love you.”
“I love you back. I’ll talk to you soon.”
“Bye.”
“Take care.”
After chatting with Daddy, I hung up the phone with a new, solid resolve. I realized no matter how old we get, we can still make mistakes. But as long as we have the wisdom to view them for what they truly are, we can move past them, learn from them, and overcome any challenges we face.
I decided then and there, on the spot, that I was going to stop the pity party, confront and acknowledge my mistakes, and look toward a happy future. I deserved happiness. My first stop was confronting Drake. It was time to stop being a coward.
Dear Journal,
Sometimes I close my eyes and dream of the day when Drake will love me. However, it’s just that, a dream…a carefully crafted illusion. I used to think I needed him next to me. Sometimes, I craved him so much I couldn’t sleep at night. Thoughts of him kept me at full alert. Drake was my natural high.
Now, that’s never going to happen—Drake loving me. There are situations and events that occur in one’s life that never allow you to go back. There aren’t any what-ifs, buts, or ands. Some things are totally unforgettable, unacceptable, and unforgivable. In some situations, saying “I’m sorry” is simply not enough. Not good enough. The only feasible solution is to go your own, separate ways because hate is your constant companion.
We were once happy though, at least I was. I’ll admit that. Drake, I think he was happy with me. At first anyway. There were many smiles, gentle moments in time, sincere mutterings of truths. I hope everything wasn’t a lie. However, I know, once you tell one lie, you have to continue to keep up with the first one. Eventually, your reality becomes based on a myriad of lies on top of lies, and that’s no way to live. You’re simply existing under an illusion of untruths.
I figured out, much too late, that Drake is all about the chase. The thrill of the game. He gets off on making women love him. That gives him an adrenaline rush. Once that’s accomplished, he’s gone…like a thief in the night. Game over. He is very competitive by nature. Love, just like business, is all about dividing, conquering, and winning. Once it’s accomplished, it’s another notch on his belt. Another line or two on his glorious resume. Broken hearts his souvenir.
Drake realizes he is very attractive, gorgeous even, a charming man, and most women’s fantasy. He uses that to his advantage. He has cultivated it to an exact science that turns women to putty in his strong hands, and then he attempts to mold and sculpture that clay to his heart’s desire.
So yes, in the beginning we were happy. Very happy. Drake wouldn’t have had it any other way. It was all part of the illusion he expertly crafted. In order to love him, you have to be happy first. And believe me, Drake knows how to make a woman feel special and desired. Special, intimate dinners, weekly deliveries of fresh, fragrant flowers, luxurious weekend getaways, whispered promises during midnight phone calls, “just because” cards that speak of love and devotion; these were all part of that total facade to make one love him. He succeeded.
I thought Drake was the one who could make my life complete. Now, I think that whole concept is totally ludicrous and I was crazy for thinking it. Neither Drake nor anyone else can make my life complete. I have to do that for myself. I didn’t come to this realization overnight; I won’t give myself that much credit. It took a near fatal mistake, reflecting, and growing up.
Looking back, I was at Drake’s beck and call. I’d drop everything to be with him. My family, friends, even myself, played second fiddle to Drake. It used to upset Taylor so much when I’d break an outing with her to be with Drake. All Drake had to say was jump and I’d ask how high. I had no shame. Drake became my entire world, and that’s when he became dangerous to my soul and well-being. Never make a man your entire world. Don’t give him that power.
“Kennedy, I could stay like this forever,” Drake whispered, leaning down and kissing me on the forehead. His body was warm and solid. I felt protected, secure, wanted, and loved.
“Me too,” I barely answered with closed eyes. I was still coming off my high. We had made love and I was relishing the moments before the sweetness fled into the darkness and cover of night. Candlelight flickered off the walls in my bedroom, creating strange shadows in their wake. And there was a strong and strange mixture of berries and sex that clung to the air.
Drake was slowly tracing his fingers up and down my arm. Each touch sent shivers throughout my being. And lying wrapped in his arms, I felt happy.
“How you feeling?” he asked.
“Great, babe, as always. You?”
“Satisfied.”
“I love you, babe.”
“Ditto.”
“Ditto. What does that mean?”
“You’re special to me. You know that, Kennedy.” He was still tracing patterns on my arm. Up and down.
“Special?” I questioned with a pout.
“I’ve dated a lot of women in my past, but you, you are, by a long shot, different and very special.”
“How many are a lot of women?” I asked jokingly, but curious at the same time. I rose up on one elbow so I could clearly see his face.
“Oh, come on, Kennedy, I’ve told you of my past. I’ve never had a problem meeting women. Women are always throwing themselves and their pussies at me. You are with me now. You’re my woman. So, it doesn’t matter how many,” he said, slightly agitated. The candlelight cast dark, contorted shadows across his face.
“You’re right, babe,” I crooned, relaxing back into his arms. “Wait a minute. Different? Is that good or bad?” I laughed, pulling myself up to look into his eyes again. Drake had the sexiest eyes. A woman could get lost in them, and before she knew it, she could simply drown. Sometimes I felt like I was drowning in his presence. I couldn’t breathe or catch my breath.
“Baby, of course different in a good way. It couldn’t possibly be in a bad way.”
“How am I different, babe?”
“You really want to know?” he asked, absently cupping my breast in his hand. “You really, really want to know?” he asked, ticking my side.
“Yes, seriously, I want to know.” The moment was perfect. A light rain had started to fall outside, and my apartment was warm and cozy on the inside.
“Well. For one, you don’t try to be the man.”
“What?” I laughed. “You’re joking, right?”
“There are too many women who are kidding themselves and thinking that they can do it all, have it all, all without a man.”
“What’s wrong with that?”
“Baby, a man wants his woman to need him. He doesn’t want to feel like he’s not wanted or appreciated or needed. There can only be one leader in a relationship. The man.”
“I see.” I was hearing this theory for the first time.
“Women in Atlanta are notorious for that type of bullshit, feminist attitude. ‘I don’t need a man; a man can’t do anything for me that I can’t do for myself.’ Bullshit. Then why are they at the club with a dress on two sizes too small showing all their ass, leaving absolutely nothing to the imagination? Why are they always in search of some dick? Answer that. Well, you aren’t like that.”
“Are you saying I’m not independent?”
“No, baby. I’m merely saying you act like a woman. You are content with letting me be your man. Your girl Taylor could learn from you, too.”
“What? How did Taylor get brought into this conversation?”
“I don’t care for Taylor, and it’s obvious that she doesn’t care for me either. Taylor thinks her shit doesn’t stink and one day she is going to learn otherwise.”
“I wish the two of you would try to get along. She’s my best friend and you’re my man. I don’t want to be caught in the middle.”
“And I don’t like her putting crazy ideas into your pretty head. I like the way things have gone with us these last few months, and I just don’t want anyone to destroy that.”
“Oh, really now?” I asked as Drake planted a kiss, then another, on my neck. He knew that was one of my weak spots; the meltdown began.
“Definitely. I like how you let me order for you in restaurants, how you accept my advice and opinions, surrender to me in the bedroom. Just small things like that.”
“Do you?” I asked while he traced a line up my arm.
“Yes, Miss Logan, I do.” Drake tweaked a nipple between his thumb and forefinger.
I moaned passionately. “And a woman shouldn’t be vocal and proactive in achieving her goals?”
“I’m not saying that. I’m simply stating that a real woman should make an effort to please her man and take care of his needs. If I tell you to get down on your knees and suck my dick, I expect you to do it. No questions asked. Again, there can only be one leader in a relationship. That’s why Taylor can’t keep a man; she thinks she’s one.”
“You are sounding like a male chauvinist, babe.”
For a moment, an angry look crossed Drake’s face and just as quickly disappeared. Then he broke into a huge, mischievous smile and he reached for me.
“Call it what you want. Now come here and surrender to your man again,” he said, as his hand found the warm place between my legs. “Dance for me.”
“What? Dance for you? Are you serious?”
“Stop with all the questions. Don’t I look serious? Stand up and do a striptease for me.”
“No, I don’t think so,” I said, embarrassed at the thought.
“Come on, just a small one,” he said, tugging on my arm to pull me to a standing position.
“I don’t know,” I said, pulling the sheet tighter around me.
“I thought you loved me.”
“I do, babe.”
“Well then, do this for me. Kennedy, it’s just you and me here. We are behind closed doors.”
“Okay, but just a little one,” I said, motioning with my finger.
“Just a little one then, “Drake said softly, assaulting my neck with kisses.
I hesitated.
“Okay, let’s see what you got,” he said, placing his hands behind his head and leaning back against his pillow, waiting for the show to begin. I shyly released the sheet and stood up in all my naked glory. Slowly, I started moving around doing a belly dancer–type routine that I saw on TV at some point. Drake was taking it all in like he was watching a show.
“That’s it. Lower your hands so I can see those gorgeous tatas. You know I’m a breast man.”
I continued to dance as I slowly lowered my hands, then raised them above my head, twirling my fingers in midair.
“Yeah, nice. Turn around, slowly. Tease me…Not too fast. Now, touch yourself for me, baby.”
“No.”
“Touch yourself. Don’t be shy. Play with your breasts and nipples. Real slow. We got all night.”
I paused for just a moment. Drake’s lust-filled eyes never left mine and I obliged.
“Yeah, squeeze your nipple. A little harder. The other one. Harder. Make ’em stand at attention for your man. Salute me.”
“Drake?”
“Shhh, you’re doing great. Now, keep one hand on your breast and move your other hand down between your thighs.”
“I don’t know.”
“Come on. Right now, you are sexy as hell. You got my dick hard as bricks…That’s right. Don’t stop; touch yourself. Stick two fingers in. Deeper. Pull ’em out. Back in. In. Out.
“Look at you. Yeah, you’re getting good and wet for me. Yes, I love it.
“Moan for me. Let me hear you enjoying yourself. That turns me on.