We lay still, two friends, talking and enjoying each other. I massaged his shoulders, his back, kneading all of his tensed muscles. And watched him become putty from my touch. The crinkles in his forehead diminished and the stress in his face disappeared. Finally, he said, “This is what I need. After fighting wars all day, I need a woman to have compassion for me.”
After stroking each other’s bodies and egos, we fell asleep. I wanted to make love to him, but I wasn’t sure if he was ready to. He was different and I had to strategically plan this out. If I played my cards right, he was probably a man who could be got. Considering he was that rare type of man that I could honestly see myself with, it was worth the effort.
It wasn’t until I stepped into the office on Friday morning that my master plan didn’t seem so smart anymore. How am I going to manage him going home every weekend? Suddenly, I had an attitude as if he’d made me do something that I didn’t want to do. I was angry, but I couldn’t understand why. I was losing it. I stormed past his office and casually waved.
His voice lingered behind me. “Ms. Dixon.”
As I poured my coffee, I shared conversation with people in the break room and stared up at CNN playing on the hanging flat-screen television. A chill ran up my spine when Dwight rubbed my neck.
“Morning, Ms. Dixon. Did you enjoy your day off yesterday?”
I looked through him. “It was okay.”
“Just okay?”
I nodded and left the break room. He didn’t immediately follow. I was at my desk for nearly twenty minutes before he stood in my cubicle. “Now, can I get a better greeting?”
“Dwight, it’s not appropriate. Not here.”
He laughed. “I didn’t ask for a kiss or anything.”
“What time are you leaving?”
He looked at the clock on the wall. “What time does my boss want me to leave?”
“I don’t know. Maybe you should ask him.”
“I’m asking her.”
“It doesn’t matter to me. You can leave now.”
“Maybe we should go to lunch before I leave.” I shrugged. He said, “Meet you downstairs at twelve.”
I nodded and turned to my desk. After checking e-mail and tying up some loose ends, I decided to send an e-mail message to my girls. The subject was:
OOPS, I DID IT AGAIN
. In so many words, I explained that I appropriately did the inappropriate, but this time I wasn’t planning to love ’em and leave ’em. They all wanted to know how the sex was and I had a hard time convincing them that this was different. We didn’t have sex . . . I was attracted to him on a deeper level.
After I got yelled at from three separate angles, I realized that no one would understand. Before I knew it, it was lunchtime and time to explain to Dwight that I was wrong and I shouldn’t have come on to him. Somehow, it didn’t come out that way. I just needed to know more about the state of his marriage before I totally let go. Maybe he was fed up and it would be over in a matter of time. Maybe this was destiny. Maybe his wife was ready to leave him. I said, “Does your wife know how you feel?”
“She knows that I’m tired of running back and forth. I’m burned out. When I get there, we argue like you wouldn’t believe. She’s mad that I’m not there to help her and I’m mad that she’s too stubborn to do what’s best for the family.”
“So, do you plan to bend?”
“I probably would have, but like I told you, this situation has really exposed a real ugly side of her.” His big brown eyes reached out for understanding. “It’s bad. I never thought I would regret marrying her. She’s just acting like a materialistic brat.”
“Do you think she’s fallen out of love with you?”
“I just think she’s more in love with that house than she ever was with me.”
“Wow. That’s bad.”
“Who are you telling?”
“So whatchu gonna do?”
“I really don’t know.”
That wasn’t exactly what I wanted to hear, but at least he was honest. Clearly, he felt differently about his wife than he did when he arrived. Each time I tried to convince myself to run away and leave this situation alone, something else told me that he was different.
Alicia
T
he sun had barely peeked through when my phone rang on Sunday morning. Dwight’s voice sounded slightly groggy. “Hey, you.”
I sat up in my bed with a huge smile. “Good morning. Are you at the airport yet?”
“My flight leaves at four, so I’ll be in town around six. You tryna do something this evening?”
I threw out a couple of options and he threw out some, but we ultimately agreed on dinner on the water and watching the sunset. He almost began to share the drama that occurred over the weekend, but I asked him not to. I didn’t really need to know the what, how, and where. All I really cared to know was how much longer they planned to pretend this long-distance marriage was working.
It was clear that he and his wife were in a sexual drought as well, based on some casual references he made. It had been a minute for me as well. So we were definitely on the same page.
By the time Dwight called to say he’d arrived in Maryland, I had already showered and put on the skimpy hot pink panty set that I purchased just for the evening. I slipped on a comfortable black dress and pulled my twists back into a ponytail.
Before coming to pick me up, he went home to shower, and by the time he got there, I’d had a glass of Chardonnay and dozed off on the couch. The doorbell startled me. It felt like I’d been asleep much longer than I had. My heart raced as I rushed to the door.
When I opened up, he smiled and I slightly retracted. It was so weird that I’d become attracted to this man. He wore sharp suits, but his casual gear was definitely slacking. His jeans gathered at the bottom. He wore a gray polyester button-down shirt and his shoes were semi-platform. It took me a second to get over the sight, but after he opened his mouth, my superficial preoccupation was erased.
He asked, “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine. I fell asleep and I . . .”
“Can I get a hug?”
He was such a sweetheart. I turned around and gave him a hug. He squeezed me tightly. After I grabbed my purse, I said, “Are you sure you want to hang out? You look tired.”
“I want to be with you, whether we hang out or not.”
Before I stepped into my shoes, I said, “I wouldn’t be mad if we chilled and watched a movie here.”
“Wow.” I raised my eyebrow. He smiled. “You’re one of a kind. You know that, right?”
“Yeah, I know.” I laughed. “I’m just joking. Thanks.”
We ended up ordering pizza and I poured both of us a glass of wine. He wanted red and I had my regular. We sat Indian-style in front of my coffee table. When he lifted his glass to toast, he tilted it toward me.
I said, “No, you do it.”
“Okay. To peace and happiness and to, as you say, living in the moment.”
I nodded my head aggressively and took a sip. Wine dripped from the corner of his mouth and I leaned in. “You got wine on your mouth.” He reached to wipe it off and I moved his hand. “Let me taste it.”
While still holding my glass, I wrapped my arm around his neck and began kissing him. He moaned. “Hmmm. Does it taste good?”
He yanked off my ponytail holder and ran his fingers through my twists, while pulling my head toward him. His sudden aggression aroused me. I kissed his neck and thrashed my tongue in his ear. I lifted his shirt and poured the remainder of my wine on him and began licking it from his chest and navel. His eyes rolled and I reached down to unbuckle his pants. He pulled my hand from his belt. I looked up and asked, “What’s wrong?”
“I think we should wait . . .”
Wait?
My body struggled to comprehend this. I knew he wanted me as much as I wanted him. I grabbed his hand and guided it up my dress, so he could feel the ocean gushing from me. I pulled my dress over my hand, so that he could admire my undergarments. He played around down there for a minute, but stopped abruptly. Unlike me, his will was stronger than his nature. I was offended, but at the same time, I was sure he was what I thought he was.
We lay beside each other on the floor, breathing heavily and staring at the ceiling. I was slightly angry that I’d tarnished my good-girl credibility. So I said, “I’m sorry. I’m just really attracted to you and I wasn’t . . .”
He reached over and draped his arm over my breast. “I’m the one with the commitment, not you.” He leaned over to kiss my shoulder. “I see so much in you and I don’t want to ruin what could be. If it becomes physical and I’m still back and forth with Tracey, that could mess up a good thing.”
Why did that make me want him more? I was more determined to make him my man than before. I said, “Thank you.”
“I can wait. And I’m willing to wait so that in the end we’ll respect each other.”
I reached for my drink and swallowed the frustration. The doorbell rang and I jumped. I’d completely forgotten about the pizza. He laughed. “Cover yourself up. I’ll get the door.”
I rushed into the kitchen. By the time he returned with the pizza, his expression looked as if he expected that I would no longer be in my panties. Instead, I sashayed around him just to test his strength. I put soda and glasses with ice on the table.
He said, “Are you going to eat like that?”
When I shrugged, he smiled and sat at the table. After I sat, he began to laugh.
“What?”
“I was getting ready to say grace, but I can’t even concentrate right now.”
“Why?” He looked me up and down and shook his head. I laughed. “You’re funny.”
He touched my leg and said, “You’re sexy.”
After we ate, we relaxed on the floor and talked about life. What he wanted. What I wanted. And how we planned to get it.
We shared thoughts. We shared vision. His plans were just like my plans. He wanted to own a technology firm and ultimately just do business acquisition. He stared at me. “If I’d only met you ten years ago.”
I smiled and he clarified, “This is the area for technology. If I’m going to live my dream, I need to be here.”
I nodded. He wrapped his arms around me. “We would be a power couple. Oh, yeah, that’s what it’s about, too.”
“What?”
“Marriage is about sharing a vision. Without a shared vision, it’s disposable.”
I could do nothing more than nod at everything he said. He made me think of things I’d never even considered. I’d never met anyone who understood me and what I wanted out of life.
Tracey
I
was about to meet with a potential seller and on my way there, I dialed Dwight to say hello. After I gave him the ultimatum, he seemed to distance himself emotionally, which made me more distant. But some days, I call out of formality or habit. Neither of us says a whole lot. Our communication is gone, but he still answers every time I call, even if he has to call me right back. However, this time I didn’t get him, I got his answering machine. I left him a message telling him that the girls were looking forward to seeing him this weekend. I couldn’t bring myself to say that I wanted to see him, too. Men like the chase and I couldn’t be too available.
All I saw when I took my shades off and walked up the driveway were patches of missing grass from the yellowish-green lawn. I rang the bell and a young man came to the door.
“Hi, I’m here to meet Mrs. Randolph.”
“Come on in. Mama, the door.” The young man yelled and an older woman with thick glasses came to the door with him and said, “Yes?”
“Hi, I’m Tracey Wilson. You called me the other day about selling the house.”
“Oh yes, come on in and have a seat.”
An older man wearing suspenders and high waters walked into the room. “Glenda, I told you I don’t want to sell this damn house. What are y’all doing? Y’all trying to sneak and sell the house? Pops ain’t even settled in the ground yet, and y’all already selling the house.”
“We had a family meeting and we selling,” Mrs. Randolph said.
“That ain’t right.”
“It is right. Pops ain’t leave this house to you. And you ain’t finn’ to hold us up on the sale.”
I didn’t know what to say as my eyes went from family member to family member. My weight shifted from one leg to the other, impatiently. I was extremely uncomfortable standing in the middle of a family feud. There was an obituary on the table. The man on the cover had a service uniform on and I could tell the picture was nearly fifty years old. As I glanced at the date, I better understood what was going on. The funeral had been two days ago. I didn’t want any part of this.
“Say, how much can we get for this house anyway?” the older man asked.
I pulled out printouts of the other houses that had sold in the neighborhood. “Well, the last house to sell in this neighborhood went for around three hundred thousand. So somewhere in that ballpark. I mean, depending on the condition of the house. That’s something I’ll be better able to tell you after I look at everything.”
I did a once-over and I’m not sure if all these people lived in the house, but it looked worn out. They totally disregarded my last statement, as the eyes of everyone in the room became dollar signs. “That’s a hundred thousand apiece.”
“Rudy, that money can go towards Toya’s college.”
“Y’all ain’t right. It just don’t seem right. We grew up in this house. I rather set this house on fire than see y’all sell it.”
My phone buzzed and I assumed it was Dwight returning my call, but it was Danielle telling me not to forget our dinner date. As the family members decided what was right and not right, I excused myself and told them to contact me when they had all reached an agreement.
I walked to my car and sat and put my forehead in my hands. I hated dumb people. I hated the fact that I had to hustle like this. I wished I was just a rich woman with a great husband. But that so wasn’t the case. I had an asshole for a husband and I hadn’t sold a house since September. I needed him to stay in Maryland to continue to pay all the bills. My head was spinning and I needed a distraction from my drama-filled life.
I couldn’t wait to update Mama Dee and Danielle on everything that their son and brother had been putting me through. I know they will side with me—they always do. Unfortunately, tonight was not going to be about me. By the time I had arrived at the Outback Steakhouse, Danny was near tears and Mama Dee was shaking her head. Danielle’s tall frame looked malnourished and her brown skin was pale and her usually stylish hair was all over the place. She took one look at me, got up from the table, and took her phone conversation outside.