What A Person Wants (14 page)

ISABEL

It didn’t take long for reality to sink in. I was jobless, single, and less one best friend. But after my mini pity party, I cleaned myself up, pulled together and continued on with life.

A few weeks had passed since the fiasco at my apartment with Lawanda and Kyle. I hadn’t spoken to my sorry excuse of an ex, but Lawanda tried to call me several times with piss poor apologies that I didn’t care to hear.

So instead of dealing with the two of them (or anyone else, for that matter), I made it a point to sit in front of my laptop every day and write something. I tried to expand upon some weak ideas I had for stories, but to no avail. Those strong, creative ideas that used to flow from my imagination and down through my fingertips onto paper just wouldn’t come. I knew I was a sad sight sitting at my desk typing feverishly for hours only to reread my work and exercise my right to use the “backspace” button. It was a pathetic cycle.

Today was on one of these frustrating afternoons when I felt the need to leave my apartment. I had been holed up for days, only leaving to look for work. Tara and my mom always came by to check on me, but for the most part, I stayed inside and kept to myself. This one afternoon, however, I had to get up and get out. I was never one to stay at home for too long anyway.

After getting showered and dressed in black Capri length leggings and a long white button up shirt and broad black belt, I slipped into some cute open toe sandals with a high heel and ankle straps. I quickly applied some makeup and ran a flat iron through my long tresses.  After everything was done, I checked my reflection and smiled. It had been a while since I felt the need to get dolled up, but it felt good all the same to see how nice I looked. With that little boost of confidence, I grabbed my purse and a lightweight jacket, and walked out.

It wasn’t until I made it to the corner that I realized I had no idea where I was headed. I knew I didn’t want to sit at home and stare at the TV or frustrate myself to the point of tears in front of my computer, but I had no true destination. This was definitely one of those moments when I wished I had owned a car.

Not that it mattered. I kept walking. The day was clear and bright despite the fact that it was later in the afternoon. The air felt crisp against my skin, but not chilly. I walked for a few blocks and smiled to myself as I noticed people admiring me. I knew I was attractive and nicely put together. The stares I received confirmed it.

Truthfully, I hadn’t felt this good in weeks. Something as simple as taking off the sweatpants and putting on makeup just to take a walk made me feel like there was still hope. Kyle wasn’t the only person in the world who could show interest in me. Lawanda wasn’t the only friend I could make. Angels Unlimited wasn’t the only job I could have. To hell with all of them! Isabel Maldonado was going to be just fine.

About six blocks away from home, my cell phone rang. I answered, keeping up my brisk pace. It was Rhys.

“Hey, sweetie!” he said. It had been a minute since we had conversed. He had called every day, but I never had much to say to him. After a while, I simply stopped answering the phone. Today, however, I felt like chatting.

“Hi, Rhys! What's up? How’s it hanging? How ya livin'?”

“Um…you must be feeling pretty good today,” Rhys laughed.

“I guess you could say that. I'm feeling better than how I've been feeling these last few days. I don’t know. It must be the afternoon air.”

“Uh huh. That's what's up! I'm glad to hear that. Where are you? Home?”

“Nope! Just walking around.”

“Walking around?”

“Yeah.” I had come to a busy intersecting. As I stood on the corner waiting to cross the street, I realized I hadn’t seen Rhys since the infamous party at my house. An idea struck me.

“Hey, Rhys, what are you doing right now?”

“Me? Oh, nothing, just thinking about you,” he said in a low voice.

“Oh, just thinking about me? I hope they were all good thoughts.”

“Of course, baby! They are always good thoughts.”

Baby?
Since when does Rhys Pediway call me “baby”? I decided not to press the issue. I ignored the name and asked him why he was thinking about me.

“Because I haven’t heard from you in a while. I mean, I call you every day to check up on you, and if you’re not rushing me off the phone, you flat out don’t answer. And you never call me back anymore. I need to see how you’re doing, Izzy. I worry about you, and...I miss you.”

“Aw! You missed me, Rhys?” I asked as I headed to the bus stop across the street.

“More than you know.”

“Well, I’ve missed you, too, and I’m glad you called. I know I’ve been acting like a hermit lately, but I’m coming out of my rut now and I’m headed to your place. So, if you’re not home right now, I suggest you hightail it over there and meet me.”

Rhys let out a throaty laugh.
My, he was in a good mood
. He told me he wasn’t far from his house, and that he could get there within ten minutes. I checked my watch. It would take me at least twenty minutes to reach his place. No problem. I hung up with him and got my bus ticket out of my wallet. Now, after all that walking, I finally have a destination.

It actually took me a little longer to get to Rhys’ place over in Hampton. Traffic was killer. By the time I made it over there, I was anxious to see him. It had been so long since I’d been able to hang out with him one-on-one. While stuck in traffic on the bus, I had thought about the last time we had done something together, just the two of us. It was a few days before the party. Rhys and I had met for a quick lunch one day while I was out looking for work. The lunch itself wasn’t much to write home about, but I did enjoy hanging out with my old friend. Between work, Richie, Kyle, my mom and my lackluster writing all vying for my undivided attention, Rhys had sort of fallen off to the side. That was about to change, though. Today was Rhys’ day.

As I rang the doorbell, I noticed that his wife’s car was gone.
Humph! Tiffany must be on another grand shopping spree or somewhere up Chloe Childs' ass. 
It didn’t matter. I didn’t come here for her anyway.

I heard the quick pitter patter of Rhys running down his stairs. Before I could so much as blink, he yanked the front door open. He was all teeth and grins, looking as good as ever. He wore a simple white jogging suit - crisp and clean; it made his smooth brown skin stand out even more. I smiled back at my friend knowing I was in for a fun evening.

                                          *              *              *              *

              “How do you like your drink?”

“Hmm?” I took another sip of my vodka and cranberry. I sat slouched down on Rhys’ plush couch with my bare feet propped up on his coffee table. I glanced at him sitting comfortably on the adjacent love seat; he was staring at me with an amused expression on his face.

“It tastes pretty good,” I responded sitting up a bit. “Good” was an understatement. I always said Rhys could make great money as a bartender. The cocktail he had mixed for me was so well balanced I could barely taste the liquor. I could damn well feel it, though.

We had been in his apartment for a few hours drinking and talking. The sunlight that followed me to Rhys' house had been replaced by the harsh yellow glow of streetlights, which flooded his still open mini blinds. It created a nice ambience. The soft sounds of some music seeping through Rhys' stereo added to the effect. For the first time in a long time, I felt completely comfortable and at ease. I felt peace.

Or maybe I was a tad bit drunk.

Rhys still stared at me with a handsome smirk adorning his face. A few times throughout the evening, I caught my old friend sneaking a peek at me when he thought I wasn’t paying attention. After my interest was highly piqued and I had downed a tall glass of liquid courage, I finally called him out on it.

“Why do you keep looking at me like that?"

“What do you mean? Look at you how?”

“Like you’ve never seen me before.”

Rhys Pediway gave a wry grin and looked away. Sitting back in his chair, he answered, “Maybe because I
am
just seeing you.”

“Huh?”  I blinked and tried to process his enigmatic reply. I wasn’t too drunk to have a coherent conversation, but I wasn’t exactly sober either. “What are you talking about, Rhys? Spell it out plain, please. You know I can't think when I drink.”

He chuckled and looked my way again. His stare was so intense that I had to turn my own gaze.

“Well,” he began hesitantly, "I was thinking about what our lives might have been like if I married you instead of Tiffany.”

My mouth fell wide open. “Say whaaa?” What the hell was this man talking about? “You just happened to be thinking about that right now?”

“No, I’ve actually been thinking about it for a while. A long while.” Rhys' voice had become slightly husky. I was not accustomed to that tone, not from him.

For a few moments, neither one of us moved nor spoke. The only sound came from the stereo and the ice clicking against my glass as I took a shaky sip of my drink. Rhys sat back in his seat staring straight ahead with a solemn expression on his face. I didn’t know exactly how to respond or where this was even coming from, so I did what anyone does nowadays to change the subject while talking to Rhys: I asked about his wife, Tiffany.

He immediately balled up his face in disgust. Maybe changing the subject was a bad decision on my part, but I stayed with it.

“What more can I say about Tiff?” Rhys asked bitterly. “She’s out with her friends right now. She’s been gone all day and I’m not expecting her to come home until the morning. I don’t even fight it anymore. She’ll come and go as she pleases anyway.”

“But, Rhys, doesn’t she understand that she has a husband at home? What the hell is her problem? It’s not like she needs to be under you all day every day, but she could at least spend a little time at home seeing as how you’re breaking your back to maintain the house by yourself. I can't believe she turned out to be so selfish!”

Once again, Rhys got that intense look in his eyes and a grin to match. “See, that’s what I’m talking about! How come I never realized how considerate you are?”

Um…Now I was really confused. There was no way I would be able to keeping sipping my drink and have the kind of conversation Rhys seemed determined to start.  Without a word, I set my drink down on the coffee table.

“So,” I began with a perky voice in the hopes that it would break the budding tension, “you’ve known me for years, but you’ve never noticed I was considerate? What kind of friend are you?” I laughed at my own corny joke knowing full and well it wasn’t funny.  Rhys didn’t follow suit. Instead, he got up and moved to sit next to me.

I didn’t mean to lie back against him when he put his arm around me. It just felt nice to be held. Or maybe I was just
really
feeling the booze.

While stroking my shoulder Rhys said, “Izzy, don’t tell me you never thought about us.”

“Us? What ‘us,' Rhys? We’re good friends. Nothing more, nothing less.”  I wished I knew where all of this was coming from. I desperately wanted to finish my drink, but I knew better. This was not the time to get too tipsy.

“So you mean to tell me you never think about what life would be like if we were together?”

I looked up hard and long at Rhys. Our faces were close together and our lips inches from touching, but we refrained from kissing. I could tell he wanted to, though. It doesn’t take a genius to figure out that when a man starts licking his bottom lip with a heavy gaze in his eyes, he’s ready to put his mouth to work.

A sudden flash of heat ran through me that I wasn’t prepared to deal with. I sat up quickly and grabbed my drink, downing half of it in one gulp.

“Rhys, you know I used to think about ‘us’ all the time back when we first met,” I stated after coming up for air. “But you made it clear that you didn’t want to compromise our friendship. I respected that, I respected you, so I did what I could to get you out of my system. It was tough, but in the end, I decided I wanted a friendship with you more than I wanted a date. Not that it mattered. For years, I questioned whether you and I were missing out on something better, but you never seemed to want me. You left me with no choice but to get over you. So, to answer your question: No, I don’t think about 'us.' Not anymore.”

If I could have erased the sharpness from my words, I would have. Rhys’ expression had turned glum as I spoke.

“It doesn’t matter anyway,” he said after a few minutes. “I know I fucked up with you. I see that now. I had a damn good woman in my life for years, but I never realized it. And now that I can... tell me it’s not too late. Izzy, please?”

“Rhys, you’re married.”

“To a woman who couldn’t care less about me if I paid her to!” he flashed out angrily. He moved to the edge of his seat, facing me. “Izzy, I spent too much time trying to keep this broken marriage together and it's not working. Tiffany and I are not going to make it. It hurts me to say it, but it's true, and I'm tired of kicking my ass every time I see you and Richie together.”

Now I may have been a tad bit drunk, but that little slip of the tongue didn’t get past me. He immediately began fidgeting in his seat.   He didn’t mean to say it, but there was no denying the truth.