Brothers and Wives (14 page)

“Thank you!” I laugh and wipe a few tears from my eyes. I don’t want Vette to know they’re genuine tears, so I act like they’re silly tears. There’s no way this twenty-something young lady can understand how it feels to be me.

I glance at the mannequins wearing maternity dresses and place my hand on my belly. I feel heartbroken when I realize that if I have the hysterectomy, my body will never produce life again. So why am I here on this Earth? In ten short years, my daughter will be dating, applying for college, leaving the house, and making her own way through life. Then what will I do? Will Neil and I still have anything significant to talk about? Will the sex be exciting? In an effort to change the subject, I hop up and say to Vette, “Let’s go check out the maternity clothes.”

“Oh, Lord, I’m scared someone I know may catch me in here and assume things about me,” Vette yelps as she trails me into the store.

“Vette, please. You are
not
famous. No one is going to recognize you, Ms. Britney Fears.”

“Aw, you’re wrong for that.”

I browse several racks of turtlenecks and stop at a row of colorful fall dresses. “Beautiful. These styles don’t even seem like maternity clothes with the faux wrap. The clothes are so much better than when I was carrying Reese. Child, I couldn’t wait to go into labor, have my baby, and throw ’em in the garbage.”

“Hmm, I can only imagine how that feels.”

I turn down another aisle. A bright-eyed, clear-faced woman with a very round belly is oohing and ahhing over some cute and sexy nightgowns.

“You think my husband will like this?” She addresses me, holding up a pink sleeveless nursing gown with a V neck.

I want to say, “What difference will it make at this point with the condition you’re in,” but I tell her, “That’s a very pretty outfit. You’d look good in that.”

“I think you’re right. Thanks so much,” she says. Her eyes rest on my stomach.

“So what type of clothes are you looking for, and most important, when’s
your
due date?”

I blankly stare at her, but she keeps running her mouth. “I’m due around February fourteenth. That would be
awesome
, wouldn’t it? A child conceived in love being born on the most romantic day of the year.”

“Um, yeah,” I say and take a few steps away from her. “Vette, come on, let’s go. Now!”

“What’s the matter?” she asks trying to keep up with me as I head directly across the hall to Kids Footlocker.

“Nothing.”

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong.”

“C’mon, Anya, tell me. You’re certainly acting like something’s wrong.”

“Okay, now something
is
wrong because you
keep
bothering me. Getting on my last nerve.”

A few days later on a Friday afternoon, Dani comes by the house to pick up her son. I’m in the kitchen preparing one
of Neil’s favorite meals. Vette agreed to take Reese for a visit with Sola. LaNecia’s power finally got turned back on, so she returned home.

“Mmm, that sure smells good. What are you making, Anya?” Miss Thing, of course, follows her nose the second she gets in the house, trying to see what I’m up to.

“I’m chopping raw onions and bell pepper. You want some?”

“No, thank you.” Dani wrinkles her nose. “I smell meat. Is that a T-bone?”

“No girl, that’s porterhouse. Only the best for my man.”

“Oh, I see.”

“When are you going to cook for
your
man?”

“Scottie isn’t my man.”

“Quit playing around, Dani. You two are thick as thieves. Every time I see him, you’re not far behind. So what’s up?”

Dani walks to the refrigerator and swings open the door. “Wow, is that banana pudding? My mama would make this all the time when we were kids. Is it okay if I have just a tiny spoonful?”

“Don’t you have diabetes?”

“Um, hello, one tiny spoonful isn’t going to kill me.”

“Okay, then, how about half a bowl?”

“Anya Meadows. That isn’t funny!”

I laugh and wave my hand. “Dani, I don’t care what you eat. It’s your life, your body.”

“Where’s my baby?”

“I’m assuming you’re referring to Braxton.”

“Of course. Who else would I call by that name? Definitely not Neil.”

I don’t say anything. Scottie comes into the kitchen and says hello to us. He kisses Dani on the forehead, but she
ignores him. I continue chopping veggies and look in the refrigerator for some prechopped garlic.

Neil bounces into the kitchen. “Something sure enough smells good up in here.”

Dani hugs Scottie around the waist. “It’s probably Scottie. He just showered, I think.” She presses her nose on his neck. “Mmm, you smell so delicious, sweetie.”

“Do I, babe? What you wanna do tonight? Neil told me to get the fuck out his house so he can fuck his wife.”

“Man, you tripping. If you keep talking mess like that you won’t have a house to come to.”

“Whew, calm down, Neil,” Dani says. Neil immediately takes a few deep breaths.

“Well, I don’t want to intrude on you and your wife’s date night.” She laughs, then stops. “I can’t believe you’re making us leave. There’s room enough in this house for all of us.”

“No,” I say adamantly, ignoring her sarcasm. “No, no, no. Go on, get your kid, and y’all can hang out at your place.”

“This place is way more exciting than mine,” she says. “Dinner is already prepared. You probably have some DVDs already stacked up and waiting in the den.”

“Don’t pay her any mind, Neil,” I say and whack an onion with a long butcher knife. “Dani’s just being Dani. Dinner will be done in about thirty minutes, so if you wanna go and, um, get ready, now’s a good time.”

“Eww, I think she’s talking about him getting ready for some …”

Neil steps up to Dani and covers her mouth with his hand. I look at Neil like he’s lost his mind. He removes his hand from her mouth and disappears from the kitchen.

“Men are such little boys,” Dani remarks and laughs. “Ready, Scottie? I’m getting Brax. We’re leaving. Now!”

*  *  *

I am leaning over the dining room table, which is draped by a white silk tablecloth. Two vanilla-scented candles set in silver-plated holders burn on each end of the rectangular table. Neil is sitting on the opposite end staring into space. I have just served him his meal of well-done steak, mashed potatoes with gravy, green beans smothered in onions, side garden salad, and some hot buttered rolls.

“You’re too good to me, Anya,” Neil says as he slides some potatoes on his fork and places it inside his mouth. “Mmmm, these are so delicious. The best ever. What have I done to deserve this, my love?”

“I know when it’s time to spice things up, that’s all. The last time we did something this exciting was back in July during our anniversary, and it just felt like that time again.”

“I gotcha. Well, keep doing what you’re doing….” The rest of his words can’t be understood. He’s too busy stuffing his mouth.

I guess I can’t complain. My hubby is at home with me where I can see him. Other women’s husbands are on the other end of a telephone line, spitting out words that may or may not be the truth.

I’m working late, babe
.

I’m hanging out with the boys, that’s all
.

I’m not doing anything wrong, so stop tripping. You know I love you
.

I just got in the car and I’m on my way home now. Gotta get some gas first, though
.

Very few men will have the balls to say what’s really going on.

My chick on the side and I just got through having butt-naked sex. You just missed it
.

I’m in love with another woman. She’s kind, supportive, and gorgeous. She and I are having dinner right now, then we’re going to sneak away and hang out at her spot
.

I’m on my way to meet a beautiful woman in a bar. We’re going to have a few drinks, share a few laughs, then who knows what will happen after that
.

Oh, hell no. Ninety percent of men, married or in committed relationships, will never have the courage to tell the truth about what they’re really doing. We hope and pray to God that he is where he says he is. Because we can’t really see what’s going on for ourselves, we have no other choice but to trust.

And that’s why moments like right now are so important. He’s here, in our home, with me.

“Neil,” I say for the third time. “The food couldn’t be that good.”

“Huh?”

“I’ve been calling your name for the longest. You have this faraway look in your eyes.”

“Oh, um, it’s nothing. Work stuff.”

“Oh yeah?” I say with a raised eyebrow. “What’s happening at work?”

“Budget cuts. A couple of white-collar folks got pink slips.”

“Your job is not in jeopardy, right? That would be weird since you’re the moneyman.”

“You never know. Anyone who has a job can lose a job, I don’t care what your title or duties are. Anyway, I am not going to stress about it.”

“And you shouldn’t. Try to enjoy the moment. Our moment.” I raise a glass of wine.

Neil picks up his glass of white wine and tilts it toward me. We share a laugh. He takes a sip and begins eating again.

Sometimes I wonder if my cooking is really that appetizing or if he’s using eating as an excuse to not hold a serious conversation with me.

“What are you in the mood to look at?”

“It doesn’t matter. Whatever you choose is fine.”

“I was looking for a more committed answer than that.”

“Anya, you know I’m not that picky when it comes to movies.”

“That’s ’cause you usually fall asleep halfway through the film. I swear, if you conk out this time, do not wake up and start badgering me about what happened. I cannot stand when people do that.”

Neil actually starts laughing heartily. It’s good to hear him sound happy.

I take another celebratory sip of wine from my glass.

Neil clears the table and loads the dishwasher while I set up the Blu-ray DVD player.

I am wearing a red silk nightgown with spaghetti straps. I’ve slipped my feet inside some white velour Smart-Dogs indoor-outdoor slippers that feel divine on my skin.

Neil is lying on the couch with his hands clasped behind his head. I pick up the remote, aim it at the player, and sit down on the floor in front of the sofa next to Neil.

“Am I blocking your view?”

“A little. Your head is as wide as Peter’s on
Family Guy.”

“No way.” I chuckle. “Let me know if I’m in your way.”

“Just kidding,
Peter
. It’s cool.” Seconds later I hear loud, obnoxious snoring sounds.

“Ahem, stop playing around, Neil. The opening credits
just started. I’ve wanted to see
American Gangster
for the longest.”

“Yeah, me, too.”

We watch in silence for a good thirty minutes. After a while, Neil began touching my neck, his fingers softly kneading my skin.

“That feels really good. Thanks, Neil.”

“That’s not the only thing I can make feel good.”

“W–what you say?”

“You heard me.” He whispers at my neck. “Get up.”

I lift myself up until I’m on my knees looking down at my husband, who’s lying flat on his back.

“Kiss me,” he commands.

I lean over and press my lips against his. He runs his fingers through my hair and pushes my head closer to his. I thrust my tongue deeper inside Neil’s mouth, which is hot and wet.

I remove my underwear and climb on top. His eyes enlarge. He slides off his boxers, and I slide him inside of me and hop up and down enjoying the friction that makes me want to scream.

Neil’s eyes are glassy.

“You’re enjoying this?”

“Yeah,” he says, breathing hard.

“I love you.”

“Mmm,” he moans and grunts as he grabs my hips and pushes himself violently into me.

Hmmm, I love his aggressiveness. He likes when I take charge
.

I keep pumping while Neil stares into space.

“Oh, you came already?”

“Uh, yeah. Sorry.”

“You look like something heavy is on your mind.”

“Um, work stuff.”

The next morning I wake up before Neil and get out of bed around nine, which for me is late for a Saturday. I take a quick shower and wash off remnants of the lovemaking Neil and I shared last night. We went one round and a half. For some reason, in the middle of the night, Neil tugged at my panties and got himself a quickie. I was halfway asleep and definitely wasn’t feeling it, but as long as he got his I didn’t care.

I am in the kitchen trying to decide if I want to be bothered with making waffles or should I do a quick-and-easy bacon and scrambled eggs with toast breakfast.

Neil rushes into the kitchen and glances at the wall clock.

“Scottie made it back yet?”

“No, why? You need him for something?”

“Damn. When I do need him, he’s never around.”

“He has a life, Neil. Not like he’s a little kid you have to babysit …”

“I know that!”

“Don’t you dare raise your tone at me, Neil. What’s wrong with you?”

“Nothing!”

“Don’t lie to me. I know when you’re lying.”

“Then since you know when I’m not telling the truth, and you have such insight into what I’m thinking at all times, why ask me what’s wrong?”

“I want to hear it come from your mouth.”

“You’re tripping as usual.”

“Don’t put the blame for your rotten mood on me, Neil.
Shoot, I’m in here thinking about you, trying to prepare something good for you to eat.”

“Love is more than about what you can put in my stomach, Anya!”

I throw an uncracked egg at the wall and scream.

Neil runs to me and places his hand over my mouth. “Woman, shut up. You better be glad we have the house to ourselves.”

I yank my head back, but Neil maintains a solid grip. “No, you listen to me. Calm down, Anya. You’ve been acting so freaking moody lately, it’s unreal. Are you gonna be okay? Can I trust you to not get loud?”

He gently releases his hand and holds my shoulders. “Whatever you’re going through, it’s going to be all right. Okay, Anya?”

“Have a seat. I have something to tell you.”