Brothers and Wives (18 page)

“Change of plans. ’Bye, Anya.”

“Before you go, ask yourself one question. When it comes to you trying to play the game against the other woman, what qualities do you have that are far superior to what she’s bringing to the table? If you don’t rank higher than her in just about every category, you can forget about Boardwalk. Don’t even think about Park Place. You won’t even be in the game, let alone win it.”

LaNecia nods her head thoughtfully and tells Anya she’ll get with her some other time.

She walks into the den and immediately spots Dani sitting on the sofa with Scottie nestled on the floor, seated between her legs. He’s freshly dressed and relaxing after his
shower. Dani’s fingers tenderly rub Scottie’s shoulders. His eyes are closed, and he looks peaceful.

“Ahem.” LaNecia clears her throat. “Hey everyone, I don’t mean to interrupt. But I think I left my bra upstairs from a few minutes ago when we were showering….”

“Cousin, don’t front. Ain’t no bras upstairs.”

Dani jumps in. “He’s right. I can see right through your shirt and it’s obvious you’re wearing a bra. Not that you need one.”

“Um, excuse me. Talk what you know. Because he sure got an eyeful when we were upstairs. Or didn’t you know that?”

“He told me how you just invited yourself in when you knew good and well he was in the shower. He told me what you said, everything you said.”

LaNecia stares at Scottie.
How can you tell her what we did?

“I know my man. And for the record, I do trust him. He is faithful. He is honest.”

“But …”

“Another thing, I told Scottie he needs to remember to lock the bathroom door whenever he’s in this house. You never know who or what is going to just wander in.”

“This is my family’s house, you hear me? I am welcome in every single room in this place, you got it?”

“Well,” Dani says, “next time you even
think
Scottie is in a room, don’t even try to go in.”

“Is that right? He’s in
this
room and I came in
here
. That doesn’t even make any sense. You can’t keep me away from my own family, old lady. I don’t care what you say.”

“Cousin …” Scottie butts in.

“I’m Necia. I’m baby doll. I’m the best piece of ass….” LaNecia stops herself before finishing with “you’ve ever
had,” words he used to tell her after they had sex. She absolutely doesn’t want to break down even though she feels she’s coming close to it. She stares at Dani with hatred and realizes she’s been playing the game all wrong.
I always end up doing what she wants me to do. I gotta make this old lady do what I want her to do
.

LaNecia barely says good-bye before she runs out of the house and to her car.

She flips opens her cell phone, logs on to the Internet, and is relieved and happy that Scottie hasn’t changed his e-mail password. She quickly requests the new password that Scottie recently changed for his MySpace account.

No way this game is over. The dice haven’t even started to roll yet
.

It’s Saturday night. I’ve
just given Brax his bath and read him a story he loves called
The Berenstain Bears Count Their Blessings
.

We’re seated on a taupe polyester recliner that I got on sale from JCPenney. It’s my favorite place to snuggle with my son, especially on a rainy evening like tonight.

“Sister Bear is happy for the things that her parents have given her. See, Brax?” I point at the colorful illustrations while he sits on my lap with his head comfortably pressed against my chest.

“She’s hap-py,” he shouts.

This little girl bear feels happy but I wish to feel like her
.

I continue engaging Brax. “We should be grateful and happy for what we have.”

“Hap-py! Hap-py! Hap-py!”

Inside my heart seems to sink lower than my knees. But outside is what counts because outside is what Brax sees.

“Mommy not hap-py. Mommy sad. Mommy cry baby.”

“What did you say?” Earlier I was in bed wiping my eyes with some tissues. When Brax wandered into my room, I pressed the tissue to my nose and coughed. He said, “Excuse me,” and then ran out of the room.

But now he keeps looking from his book to my face.

“Kiss Mommy!”

“Of course,” I yelp, and I let him kiss me on the cheeks.

“Okay son, it’s nine o’clock. Way past your bedtime,” I say, trying to sound cheery so he won’t think I’m too upset at him for not going to bed when I told him to an hour ago.

“No, Mommy.”

“Don’t say no to me. You go to bed right now or I’ll call your daddy.”

I feel like a creep pulling Neil into this. But I don’t have any other options. After all, Neil is Brax’s daddy, right? It’s not like he has any other daddy.

Once I get Brax tucked into his bed and attempt to sing him a lullaby, he protests for a few minutes until his eyelids droop and he starts snoring. I give him a peck on the forehead and close the door to his room. I go back to the living room and throw his book on the floor. I pull my knees up on the recliner so I can get comfy, and I check up on Neil. Anya and Vette mentioned they might attend a children’s play at Solomon’s Temple even though Reese’s role is somewhat minor.

“Hmm, what’s the matter?”

“Neil! Is that any way to greet the sexiest woman in Houston?” I murmur into the phone. “What are you up to?”

“Nothing.”

“I’m glad you’re home.”

“Why’s that, Dani? What are you even doing calling me if it doesn’t have to do with Brax?”

“Hey, I resent that.” I pout. “I think we should be able to have a conversation that doesn’t totally center on our son.”

“Whatever, Dani.”

I feel a slight pinch in my chest. Normally Neil is elated
to hear my voice. I can tell when Anya’s not home because his voice grows tender, softer, and sexier by the minute. But right now he sounds like his regular stiff self.

“Won’t my brother feel resentful that you’re sitting in his face and calling me?”

“He’s not here.”

“Where is he?”

“Um, he said he had to do something important.” Problem is, I feel uneasy about what that exactly means. Scottie’s been acting secretive lately, and it bothers me.

“He’s doing something without you? I thought Saturday was your weekly date night.” Neil sounds sarcastic, which makes me feel better. That’s the Neil that I know.

“Well, um, it is, but I guess he had something critical to take care of.”

“You better hope the old Scottie isn’t on the prowl.”

“What do you mean by that?” Feeling scared, I sit up in my chair and twist my hair into a circle.

“Back in the day, this man would see three different women in one day. He’d meet one chick for breakfast at IHOP. Then he’d join another chick for coffee that afternoon. And by night, he’d be laid up with some girl after they went to a midnight movie.”

“Neil, don’t tell me. I don’t want to hear all that,” I say, feeling sick to my stomach.

“I’m doing what you wanted. And if you ask me, that’s something he should have already told you.”

“He does tell me a lot of things, but tonight he was unusually evasive.”

“Figures. Oh well. Not like I didn’t warn you. Not like my cousin didn’t try and tell you.”

“Wow,” I murmur. “Why does this always happen to me?”

“Don’t tell me you got socked in the eye by so-called love?”

“No, no, I wasn’t in love. But your brother is a lot of fun to hang around with. He was connecting with me in a strong way. We just enjoyed dinner with your mom a few nights ago. Nothing real fancy. We met her at a Pappadeaux….”

“Where LaNecia worked?”

“No way. We were on Westheimer near Kirkwood.”

“How’d it turn out?”

“Interesting, to say the least. It was weirdly polite at first. Then it became a kind of open forum. Your mom asked some pretty direct questions about Scottie and his plans, his job, and how our relationship was affecting you.”

“Did she? My mom’s looking out for her favorite.”

“Don’t flatter yourself. She cares for Scottie very deeply. I can see that.” I pause and choose my words carefully. “She told me that she finds it hard to believe that I can sincerely have feelings for Scottie after what you and I have been through. She was hoping that Scottie and I had dated for a few weeks, and then it had turned ‘into nothing like the rest of ’em.’ That’s what she actually said to me. Can you believe that?”

“That’s a mother for you. She doesn’t play.”

“Yeah well, we managed to get through all that, and by the time the evening ended, we were laughing and talking about Brax. So that was good. Still, I dunno. I thought he wanted me to bond with your mom on a whole different level. Now he’s nowhere to be found.”

“You sound like you don’t trust him.”

For a second I wonder if I have a right to tell Neil such personal things that have happened between Scottie and
me. But who else can I tell? I’ve already called Summer three times tonight describing what’s going on, and I’ve worn out my welcome on that conversation. Neil is the only other person who I feel I can talk to. I do believe that he’d kick Scottie’s ass if he ever hurt or betrayed me in the slightest way.

“Until your brother does something outright disrespectful in a way that I know he’s dissing me on purpose, I can’t find any fault in him. He’s tried to capture my heart.”

“Has he succeeded?”

“Only time will tell.”

At one in the morning I am dead asleep having a dream about people getting shot and killed when my cell rings. Groggy, I pick it up and say, “Hello.”

“Open the door.”

“Scottie? What’s going on? Where you been?”

“I’ll explain in a minute. Open up.”

I hang up the phone and stumble out of bed, down the hall, and swing open the front door, which squeals like it’s angry.

Scottie gives me a sheepish look, then brushes past me and starts pacing across my living room. He looks a combination of frustrated and worried.

“You need to start explaining yourself,” I say and fold my arms under my chest. I gape at him and wait for his excuse.

“Well, you see, it’s like this. I was going to do one thing but ended up doing another. And then it seemed like things weren’t going to work out, but I had to do something. No way was I going to let the night end without doing
something.”

“I’ve never seen you act this way before.”

“I’ve never felt this way before. It’s confusing and hard and …”

“Are you trying to tell me something?”

“Yes, Mariah, yes.”

“I really wish you’d call me by my name. Because as long as you call me Mariah, I feel like you’re living in a fantasy. Like you’re afraid to face who and what I really am.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah, I hear what you’re saying. And I think you’re right.”

“Scottie, please. Do you want anything to drink?” I sniff the air and know the answer without him having to say anything.

“How many beers did you already drink?”

“More like shots and beers!”

“You went to a bar?”

“It was a nightclub.”

“Without me?”

“I had to work for a minute and then I had to do some other things….”

“Did the other things have to do with a woman?”

He gives me a solemn look. “Of course, Dani.”

I throw my hands in the air and start pacing opposite him. “I see. I should’ve known better. You can’t fit a square into a triangle. It wouldn’t have worked. Too many odds.”

“Dani!”

“No, it’s cool. I’m okay with it. I’m glad you had the guts to come and tell me to my face. I’ve always hated cowards.” I laugh, then stop. “At least you’re different from the guy I dated last year. His name was Marc Fletcher. White guy! Can you believe that? When he realized he started feeling me too much, he sent me a freaking text message. He claimed how
he cared about me, but he was too scared of his strong feelings, as he put it. He never told me he loved me. Five months of dating. Exclusive dating, mind you, and he couldn’t get his mouth to form those words. But he had no trouble saying he wanted to date other women just to see if his feelings for me were real.” I stop walking and look angrily in Scottie’s direction. “Since the bastard never called or texted me back, I guess his feelings weren’t real, huh?”

I storm toward my bedroom without waiting for Scottie to reply. I stand at the foot of my bed and crawl in. I imagine myself being a three-year-old, like Brax, getting into bed with someone who’s promised to love and protect him. I pretend like I’m crawling and making steps toward a person who will hold me in his arms, surround me with pure love, and promise that he’ll never leave, he’ll never hurt me, he’ll never choose anyone else over me.

When I reach the top of my bed and all I find are four fluffy pillows, I can’t take it anymore. I let out all the fear and anxiety I’ve been holding in since the last weekend in July and maybe even before.

When you’ve blown it in relationships too many times to count, there comes a point when you have to face the hard truth that some people just aren’t meant to succeed in love. For whatever reason, God is mad at me. He doesn’t want any man to stick around longer than a few nice fuck sessions, and he certainly doesn’t want any decent man to put a ring on it.

I sit up, tilt my head toward the ceiling, close my eyes, and let out a piercing wail. I scream for all the times a man has told me he loves me, just to up and marry the next woman he dates after he’s dumped me. I scream for every lonely night I’ve spent on New Year’s Eve, looking at stupid
music video countdowns, noticing other people smile and party with their partners, watching them kiss and hug the one they love, the one who’s there with them at the end of the year, and the one who’s with them at the start of another year. Scottie bursts through the door and cups his hand on my mouth. I twist and turn, and sink my teeth into his hand. He winces but still holds me. My screams weaken with every second. I stare at him, trying to breathe through the small open crevices that his fingers allow.

“What’s wrong? Why are you acting like this?”