Borrow Trouble (4 page)

U
nlike a lot of the Black girls that I knew growing up in Ohio, near Cleveland, I had a pretty good life. Even after my daddy died from stomach cancer when I was thirteen. Mama was eight months pregnant with my baby sister, Frankie, at the time. I missed my daddy, but I was thankful that I still had Mama and a lot of other relatives in the area.

Mama always made sure I had everything I needed. She collected Social Security for Frankie and me, but she also worked part time. Frankie and I never had to wear secondhand clothes or eat meals purchased with food stamps.

I put myself through college by working three part-time jobs and falling back on a couple of student loans. That was enough, but Mama still insisted on doing all she could for me. “I don't want nobody running around here feeling sorry for us,” Mama told me more times than I could count.

There were times when all Mama could spare was some loose change. She wouldn't take no for an answer when I tried to refuse to take it from her, telling me, “These few pennies ain't much, but it's a few pennies more than you got.” I was lucky that I'd been raised by a generous and caring woman like Mama. It made me have a lot of hope in mankind.

My love life was average, but by the time I'd finished college, I was ready to settle down and start a family. Mama had told me that it would be nice to settle down with a man who could take care of me, but she expected me to always be able to support myself, too. I looked forward to my future.

I had just started teaching second grade at Butler Elementary when I met Inez McPherson. The year before, she had opened Soulful Nails, the first Black-owned nail shop in our neighborhood. It was in a strip mall between the office of a gynecologist and a popular beauty shop, so there was a steady stream of women in the area at all times. Business was good for Inez. The shop was always neat and clean. There was a large TV, reading material, and restroom facilities to accommodate her customers. And most of them tipped well.

Other than our nails, Inez and I didn't have much in common. But we hit it off right away. I enjoyed her company a lot more than I enjoyed the company of my other friends and my family. I was twenty-two, and she was the only person in my life who treated me like an adult at the time. Mama had a key to my place, and she'd sneak in during the week to do my laundry and clean the little one-bedroom apartment I rented above a candy store. No matter how much I told her not to, she never left my place without leaving a pot of something that she'd cooked on my stove. “Girl, you ought to be glad I come over here and cook you a mess of greens every week,” she'd tell me. “This way, I know you eating at least one decent meal every week.” I didn't like to argue with my mother. I rarely won, anyway. No matter what the outcome, it did me more harm than good. She eventually started cooking for me two times a week. I was lucky to have a mother who cared so much about me. And, I was lucky to have Inez. I had most of my fun during that time because of Inez. If she wasn't the one giving a party, she always knew where a good party was being held. It didn't take long for me to regard Inez as the big sister that I'd always wanted.

“Baby girl, I want you and that fine-ass man of yours to come to my engagement party next Saturday night,” Inez told me a couple of months after we'd become friends. Inez was twenty-five at the time. Technically speaking, she was not a classic beauty. She had dull brown eyes and a slight overbite. When she turned to the side, her lips protruded like a carp's. But she had beautiful bronze skin and a decent head of black hair, which she'd bleached blond years before blond hair on a Black woman became popular. She'd had matching blond hair weaved into her own.

Inez was tall and nicely built. I was almost as tall as Inez, but not as shapely. With my big brown eyes and round face, a lot of people described me as cute, or even pretty. But I'd never been called beautiful.

I dropped into Inez's nail shop after work and on weekends on a regular basis, whether I needed my nails done or not. One thing that had attracted me to Inez was the fact that she lived such a fascinating life compared to mine. The first time I saw her, she had on a T-shirt that said:
WHEN GOD CREATED ME, HE WAS SHOWING OFF
.

“
Engagement
party? Engagement for what? You're already married,” I said, amused. One thing I could say was that with Inez, there was never a dull moment.

“It's over with Paul,” she announced, with a casual wave. “He's lost three jobs because of his drinking. God made only one man that I'd be willing to support, but they nailed him to a cross.”

“Don't most women usually get a divorce before they get engaged again?” I chided.

“I'm not like most women,” Inez reminded me, with a wink. “As you know, I don't have many shemale friends. You are the only one who understands me. I need you there at my party, Renee.”

I didn't have the nerve to tell my girl that I did
not
understand her, but I told her that I wouldn't miss her party for the world. I was hoping that some of Inez's confidence would rub off on me.

I had never been married. It seemed like I'd kissed nothing but frogs since I was thirteen. So far, Robbie Dunbar was as close as I could get to a prince. We had attended Butler High at the same time, and we had started dating in the ninth grade. He was reasonably attractive, despite the fact that he was bowlegged and had a receding hairline, which had started its premature decline before he even finished middle school. Poor Robbie. I probably could have done better at the time, but the boy was so devoted to me, I got spoiled and comfortable.

I was disappointed when Robbie dropped out of school in the middle of our sophomore year. Even though it was so he could work at a gas station that his uncle owned, so that he could help support his mother and three younger siblings. I admired the fact that Robbie cared so much about his family that he would sacrifice his education, but I thought that he could have come up with a better solution.

Robbie and I didn't communicate much while I was away at Ohio State, but as soon as I finished my education and moved back home, Robbie was waiting for me with a marriage proposal, knowing that I'd had other relationships throughout my college years.

However, as much as I hated to admit it even to myself, men were not lining up to be with me, so I didn't hesitate to accept Robbie's proposal. But right after he'd slipped a cheap engagement ring on my finger during a two-for-the-price-of-one dinner at a Ponderosa Steakhouse, I went into the ladies' room and cried. Not tears of joy, but tears of disappointment and sadness. Robbie was as sweet, obedient, dependable, and loyal as a puppy. I believed him when he told me that I was the only woman he'd ever slept with. But all of his good qualities were not enough for me. As a matter of fact, Robbie was too good for his own good. For one thing, he was way too passive. Not just with me, but in everything he did. He didn't argue with people who tried to cheat him at the gas station. He didn't defend himself, or me, when two thugs overpowered us one night outside of a movie theater and ran off with my purse and his wallet. I was the aggressor in my relationship with Robbie, and even though it was not that obvious, I was on the passive side myself.

“Robbie ain't perfect, but he's perfect for you. I know his mama, and I know she raised him right,” Mama told me. I knew my mother like I knew the back of my hand. What she really meant was that Robbie was probably the best I could do. My aunts and a lot of other people in my family never let me forget that all of my female cousins and a few nieces, with the exception of my severely retarded cousin, Eileen, had all found husbands by the time they were twenty-one.

Inez had already been married once before. Right after she'd graduated from Butler High, she moved to Europe with Jeremy Knight, a White boy that she'd been in a relationship with for a couple of years. When she returned to Ohio three years later, she had a new husband, a Black soldier named Paul Dunn, whom she'd latched onto in Germany. She also had two beautiful daughters, one by each of the men she'd married. The older girl, Ingrid, resembled her father: platinum blond hair, very light skin, and blue eyes. The younger girl, Malena, had inherited the looks of her darkly handsome father: dark brown hair, eyes, and skin. Both children were extremely exotic.

Despite her loosey-goosey lifestyle, Inez doted on her children, and she always put them first. She didn't even let her boyfriends spend the night when her kids were with her, which was only 50 percent of the time. Inez's divorced mother and her father and his young wife adored the children, too. Several times a week, the girls spent a few days with either their grandmother or their grandfather. I was proud of the way that Inez was raising her kids. I was proud of Inez, period. I loved calling her my best friend. However, she did a lot of shit that was strange, even for her. Like throwing an engagement party to celebrate her upcoming nuptials to one man while she was still married to another!

I
nez divorced Paul and married Vincent Tunney. She kept her maiden name each time she got married, claiming that it helped her maintain her independence.

“When are you and Robbie going to tie the knot?” Inez asked me when she and Vince returned from a romp in Vegas, where they'd celebrated their third anniversary.

“Next year, I guess,” I said, with a heavy sigh.

“You guess? Well, you don't have to jump up and down about it. Don't you love him?”

“I guess.” I shrugged.

Inez's mouth dropped open. “Look, I didn't want to say anything, because it wasn't my business. But I hope you don't do something you'll regret. If you don't want to marry this man, don't do it.”

“I can always get a divorce. I'm sure you can walk me through that,” I said, with a touch of sarcasm. “I just don't know if I am ready to give up my freedom for Robbie Dunbar. What if I meet somebody I like better after I marry Robbie?”

“Listen, don't you make any plans for this Friday night. I'm taking you to this club off of Superior in Cleveland. It only takes about fifteen minutes to get there from here. It's where I met Vince. If there is somebody else out there for you, he'll be at the Victory Club.”

Inez had her new husband baby-sit her two daughters that Friday night when she took me to the Victory Club. There was nothing out of the ordinary about this club. The décor was typical: dark carpets and furniture, obligatory plants, and murals of handsome men and beautiful women on the walls. The band was a little better than the bands at some of the other clubs I went to, and most of the men had on suits and ties.

For the first hour, nobody asked me to dance. Inez didn't wait for men to ask her to dance, she asked them. And not a single one turned her down. I was on my way back from the ladies' room when I met Leon. I don't know where he came from. There was no man near me, and then, all of a sudden, he was there. It seemed like he had just jumped off of one of the murals on the walls. Luther was crooning in the background, making things even more conducive to a possible romantic interlude with another man. But I decided to be cautious. I told myself that I hadn't come to this club to look for someone to replace Robbie, per se. I
was
on a mission, though, but it was a soul-searching expedition. I needed to be sure that Robbie was the man I wanted to give up my freedom for. I didn't know if my mission could be accomplished in one night, but I had to start somewhere.

“I'll let you play with my toys if you let me play with your toys,” Leon said, falling in step beside me. Before I could respond, his arm was around my waist. I was glad that I had on my black dress. Even though it was short and tight, the fact that it was black made me look several pounds slimmer. Not that I had a weight problem, but I was as vain as the next woman. Even at a firm size 8, I was still trying to do home improvements on my body.

“Excuse me?” I said. I had on a pair of panty hose that had a sturdy control top, but I still sucked in my stomach. My admirer had a strong grip on my waist, and it felt good.

“What are you drinking?” he asked, sitting down at my table like I'd come to the club with him.

“White wine,” I mumbled. “Do I know you?” I asked dumbly.

“Not yet,” he smiled. “I'm Leon Webb.” He fished a business card out of the breast pocket of his double-breasted navy blue suit.

I looked at the card, then at him. “You are the first IRS auditor I've ever seen in person, thank God,” I said, rolling my eyes.

“Are you surprised to see that I don't have horns and a tail?” He laughed.

“I'm surprised to see that you guys are actually human,” I teased. “No offense, but I've always hoped that I'd never have to face one of you guys.”

“Well, as long as you don't try to cheat Uncle Sam, this might be the last time you come face to face with the IRS.” Leon paused and smiled. He was already handsome, with his medium shade of brown skin, closely cropped black hair, shiny black eyes, and movie star Blair Underwood–type features, but his smile and expensive suit made him look even better. “In more ways than one,” he added, with a wink that made my toes tingle.

“Do a lot of people really lie on their taxes?” I asked, trying to keep the conversation neutral. This man was breathtaking, and I didn't know how long I could keep my hands off of him.

“Sister, if I had a dollar for every lie I've been told by taxpayers, I could retire, move to Italy, and live like a king.” He even sounded like Blair Underwood. Compared to Leon, Robbie looked like one of the Muppets.

I sniffed and tried to appear not too interested. “I wouldn't lie to you,” I said.

“So if I ask if you're married, you'll tell me the truth? And please tell me that you came here alone tonight,” Leon said, with a pleading look on his face. His neatly manicured hand covered mine and squeezed.

“I'm not married,” I replied, with a shy smile. “But I am…uh…there is someone here with me.” I didn't see any reason to tell him that I was out with another woman.

Leon released my hand and gave me a disappointed look. “Is it somebody I need to be worried about?” he asked, looking behind him, and then over my shoulder.

I shook my head and grinned. “I don't think so. There is nobody in my life that you need to be worried about.” I didn't feel good about what I'd just said. The truth of the matter was, Robbie was no threat to Leon. He was not even a challenge. A feather could have knocked Robbie out of first place in my heart. I felt somewhat better when I told myself that Robbie was too good for me.

Leon took both of my hands in his and led me to the dance floor. And that's where I stayed for the rest of the night in that club, wrapped in his arms.