After The Dance (23 page)

“Scoobie’s mama? Girl, now you know good and well Old Lady Payne spent more time in the crazy house than she did out. Hell, she’s liable to have said some of anything. Remember that time she ran out in the middle of the street and was hollering and carrying on about some damn chipmunk mafia? And how all the neighborhood chipmunks had been meeting every night and were straight plotting to take her ass out?”

Yeah, girl, like Nora’s really in a position to out-and-out call somebody else crazy. And if that didn’t beat all, when I let her in on the news that I had broken things off with Carl, she went so far as to question my own sanity.

When she finally came to the end of her loud tirade, I told her like I’d told him: It was good while it lasted, but he’d had his three turns at bat and it was over. “Furthermore,” I said, “if you really want to know the truth, the only reason Carl and I hooked up in the first place was for the sex. Basically, all it boiled down to was a relationship of convenience.”

That only got her all fired up again. She said, “Oooh wee, Faye. You know you need to quit. Ain’t no way you’re fixing to sit up here and tell me Carl wasn’t ’bout the best thing to come into your life since Just My Size panty hose. And what about Memorial Day? Huh? When was the last time you ever took anybody home to meet your mama?”

I said, “Heifer, that was your bright idea. Remember?”

And she was like, “Oh … yeah. But still, had he been any other brother you’da found some way to leave his butt behind. Say I’m lying.”

What I chose to do was shut my mouth and not say any more about it. Nora just doesn’t understand. I like Carl. Really, I do. And committing myself to a full-blown, honest-to-goodness relationship with him is something I fully intended to do. But this jones I’ve got for Scoobie runs deep.
After all these years I thought I’d shaken it, flushed it all out of my system, but obviously I was wrong and there’s no sense in me lying to myself about it. Deep down, I still feel something for him. Could be, some small part of me always will.

Even if I did decide to turn away from Scoobie and step toward Carl, I’d be forever glancing over my shoulder and pondering all the
ifs.
What if Scoobie really has grown up? What if his heart finally is in the right place? What if he’s sincere about the desire he’s expressed to find our son and forge a new life for the three of us?

And how would any of that be fair to Carl? It wouldn’t. No, girl, I’ve got to see this thing on through to the end or at least allow it an opportunity to run its natural course. If the point should arrive where I’m forced to yet again close the door on Scoobie and walk away from him, I want to be able to do it without feeling even the tiniest compulsion to look back.

Like I told Faye, it wasn’t me who started that mess. I had every intention of handling our split in a civil if not outright cavalier fashion. For me that pretty much meant taking whatever steps were necessary to avoid running into her, dude, or, God forbid, the two of them together. And it wasn’t like I was trying to hold a grudge. As much as I hated the idea of coming in second to dude, deep down I couldn’t hold it against Faye that she wanted to try and work things out with him. After all, if getting back together with my ex had at any time been even a remote possibility, you’d better believe I’da crawled over a bed of hot coals on my belly at the chance.

But getting back to the unfortunate incident that I somehow ended up getting the blame for. Almost a week had passed since ol’ girl and I had done the deed and agreed to go our separate ways. It was a Friday night and like I said, up until then the ol’ duck-and-dodge routine had served me well. It was something after ten when I went out to my car to retrieve a couple of new CDs I’d left out there. But as luck would have it, just as I was headed out to my car, dude came sliding up in his. After parking and jumping out his pretty ride, he practically came running up the sidewalk that leads to Faye’s place and mine. We met up midway and I’ll be doggone if he wasn’t wearing that same dumb-ass smirk he’d treated me to the last time I’d caught him lurking around there after dark.

Rather than return the nod, I was decent enough to extend him and keep on ’bout his damn business, dude stopped and said, “What you say, bro?” And while standing there with his hand all stuck out, as if he really expected me to reach out and shake it, he had the nerve to add, “No hard feelings, huh?”

I looked him in the eye to let him know he was treading on shaky ground before I told him, “Yeah, man. Whatever.”

But instead of quitting while he was ahead, just as I was moving past his ignorant ass he says, “You know, Carl … It is Carl, isn’t it?”

When I didn’t say anything he went on with, “Well, anyway, I don’t mean any harm, partner, but you might want to let this be a lesson to you.”

I was trying hard to keep it in check, but I could feel the North Memphis thug in me getting ready to erupt. I stepped toward him and said, “Is that right? And how you figure that?”

“Simple addition, my brother,” he said, backing away from me on tiptoe all the while. “One plus one equals me and Faye, minus you. So the next time you call yourself
stepping to my lady, do yourself a favor and try bringing something to the table besides a big dick, all right?”

With that, I dropped down to his level and went all the way back-alley with him. “Listen here, man,” I told him. “I don’t know what kind of niggas you’re used to dealing with, but if you think I’m about to stand out here and let you talk shit to me about Faye, the size of my johnson, or anything else, for that matter, you’re sadly mistaken.”

By that point he’d backed himself all the way up to the steps that lead to Faye and Nora’s front door. He opened his mouth, but before he could pop off again, I snatched him up by the collar and told him, “What? You think I’m joking? Fool, I will jack your shit so tough you won’t know whether you’re coming or going.”

‘Round about then is when Faye and Nora came flying out the door, both of them doing about seventy miles per hour. While Nora stood back, Faye came over and put her hand on my shoulder. I guess she called herself trying to calm me down, but it was a move that only made me think about the way her fingers had caressed my shoulders and the back of my neck the last time I’d made love to her. My response was to grip dude even harder and raise him even higher off the ground. When he started gurgling, Faye sank her nails into my arm and said, “Carl, don’t. You promised me you weren’t going to do this.”

I let go of dude’s collar and watched as his punk ass bounced off the steps and hit the ground. I turned to Faye and told her, “I kept my end of the damn deal. It’s your smart-mouthed boyfriend here who somehow saw fit to bring that shit to me. If you’re looking to lecture somebody, you need to start with him, all right?”

While dude sat on the ground, coughing and massaging his windpipe, Nora finally summoned enough courage to come over and jump into the mix. “Okay, Carl,” she said, “it’s over, baby. Why not squash this now before it gets way out of hand?”

“Yeah, you’re right,” I said, staring at Faye, who was standing there shaking her head. “Consider it squashed. But over? Uh-uh, not hardly.”

I wasn’t sure if I was supposed to take Carl’s “it ain’t over” declaration as some kind of threat, just another testosterone-inspired act of bravado, or what. I do know that he wasn’t totally to blame for the round of fireworks that nearly blew up outside the condo that night.

Nora and I both heard Scoobie out there thumping his chest and talking trash, as if he really had the balls to follow up all his silly posturing with some kick-butt sho’ ’nuff. And I most certainly want to go on record as saying that I’ve never discussed the intimate details of Carl’s anatomy or what went on between the two of us in the bedroom with Scoobie. So where he was coming from with all of that mess is anybody’s guess.

When I asked the brother to explain himself and his behavior, at first he tried to blow it off as just a whole bunch of sour grapes on Carl’s part. And when that didn’t get a rise out of me he went in for the kill. “What would ever possess you to get involved with a roughneck like him anyway? Hell, I’m willing to bet all it would take is one missed car note and his ass would be back on the corner with all the rest of the bums.”

Not wanting to add any more fuel to the petty little fire Scoobie called himself trying to build, I just left it alone. I see little to gain from allowing myself to get all worked up on behalf of a man who, one, I’m no longer seeing, and two, has shown himself quite capable of defending his own honor without my or anyone else’s help. I’ve gotta tell you,
girl, given the way Scoobie was out there acting, had Carl hauled off and straight-up smacked the brother one good time, I really wouldn’t have felt all that bad about it.

When Nora stopped by early the next morning to check on me, I told her, “I guess I looked like a pretty big fool out there last night.”

I was shocked when she grinned and said, “Based on what I overheard, I’d say dude damn well had it coming.”

After all the laughing and joking died down, I asked her, “So … is she in love with this guy or what?”

Nora got serious and said, “The only thing I can tell you, Carl, is what girlfriend keeps telling me—she just feels like this is something she’s got to do.”

I had a sense that there was actually a whole lot more than Nora could have told me had she allowed herself. But rather than force the issue, I just listened and kept my mouth shut until she up and said, “Well, what’s your plan? Maybe I can help.”

I was like, “Plan for what?”

She said, “Duh! For getting your woman back, what else? I know you’re not about to just step aside and let this fool take her—especially after what you said last night about it not being over.”

I told her, “You know I wasn’t doing nothin’ but talking junk. Besides, Faye’s already made her choice pretty clear. I’ve got far too much pride to keep going back to her groveling and sniveling in hopes that she’ll give me another chance. Nope, I’m afraid that there is some tail I’m through chasing.”

Nora wouldn’t let it go, though. She kept insisting that
it was too early in the game to give up yet. When I finally got right tired of hearing it I said, “Well, what about you? You wouldn’t happen to need the services of a good man, would you?”

It was only a joke. You know, an attempt on my part to lighten the mood. But without so much as a moment’s thought homegirl broke out with a loud, “Psst, Negro, please! I ain’t trying to chump on you or nothin’, ’cause you ain’t half-bad in the looks department, but be for real! You got way too many chillren and not hardly enough cash to be trying to roll with my flow. Besides, all that sitting ’round watching videos and conversating you like to do woulda been done drove me crazy. No, sweetheart, I’m afraid when it comes to men, me and Faye’s tastes are worlds apart.”

I know, man. How’s that old saying go? Be careful what you ask for ’cause you just might get smacked dead upside the head with it?

I had just arrived back from my Saturday morning stint at the grocery store when I spied them—Carl’s two little girls, Renita and Renee.

For a moment they were too engrossed in what looked and sounded like some newfangled version of Miss Mary Mack to notice me. But soon as I slammed shut my car door they stopped their clapping and chanting and came running over.

They said, “Hey, Ms. Faye,” before almost knocking me over with a joint hug.

Renee, the one who sounds and acts most like Carl, asked if they could help with the groceries.

I told them sure. I mean, they’re ten-year-olds. All I figured they were looking for was something to do and possibly a little spare change.

While we were carrying the bags into the house, Carl came out and poked his head over the fence. Still obviously upset about Scoobie, the fight, the breakup, and everything else that had gone down between us in the last week or so, he looked at me with eyes so cold, girl, I nearly lost my grip on the sack I had pressed against my chest. A couple of ice-filled seconds ticked by before he eased up on the freeze and said, “They bothering you?”

I told him, “No, they’re fine.”

He’d started back to his condo when all of a sudden he spun around, threw the twins a look, and said, “Ladies, don’t forget what we talked about.”

“Yes, Dad,” they said in unison. “We won’t.”

It didn’t take a Ph.D. to conclude that whatever they’d talked about had something to do with
moi
. But since what was done, was done, I wasn’t trying to sweat it.

After the girls finished helping me bring in the last of the groceries, I pulled out my wallet and was about to give them a couple dollars apiece when Renita, the twin who I’m guessing takes after her mother’s side of the family, piped up and said, “That’s okay, Ms. Faye. I don’t think our daddy would like it very much if he found out we’d taken money from you.”

So I offered a couple of Twinkies and a glass of milk as a possible substitute, which, after a bit of whispering between the two of them, they decided to accept.

I joined them on the opposite side of the breakfast bar with a snack and a glass of milk of my own. Everything was cool and we’d giggled our way through a good three minutes’ worth of girl talk when, with her mouth partially full, Renee just up and out of nowhere said, “Ms. Faye, are you mad at my daddy about something?”

“Now, what would make you ask something like that?”
I said, trying my best not to get rattled, even as the other child started coughing and shaking her head, like something might have gone down the wrong way.

Renee said, “I don’t know. I was just wondering why you guys didn’t seem particularly happy to see one another. I hope he didn’t cheat on you like he did my mama.”

That did it for Renita. She jumped off her stool and snatched her sister by the arm. “Renee! Don’t mind her, Ms. Faye. She runs off at the mouth like she don’t have a lick of sense sometimes. Come on, girl. It’s time for us to go.”

I was like, uh-uh, hold up. “Is that what your daddy told you? I mean, that he and I were boyfriend, girlfriend?”