Authors: Cydney Michele; Rax Lutishia; Grant Lovely
Crush (23 page)
6
Tell It Like It Is
After Lorraine and Wendell had their awkward conversation, for the rest of the week Lorraine felt as if she had to walk on eggshells around him. She desperately wanted to compensate for her insensitivity. On Friday, she decided to stop by a popular breakfast taco stand prior to coming to work.
When Lorraine arrived at their office, she was relieved that he wasn’t there. She immediately set the brown paper bag containing several food items on his desk. It didn’t take her long to locate his favorite coffee mug. Once she logged into her e-mail account, she decided enough time had passed and she strolled down the hall to the kitchen and fixed Wendell a steaming cup of brew.
She hurried back to the office and waited.
The second Wendell arrived at work and said hello to Lorraine, enticing aromas greeted him.
“Is this what I
think
it is?”
think
it is?”
“Mm-hmm,” she said in the flirtiest tone she could muster. “Now open up that bag so I can watch you handle your business.”
“Oh woman, I swear, if we weren’t at work I’d pick you up and swing you around in a circle.”
“I can’t even see it,” she smirked. “But I think that’s your way of saying thank you, and you’re welcome. I didn’t buy myself any, but I’d love to get a tiny bite of your potato and egg taco.”
“Your wish is my command.” Smiling, Wendell opened the bag and picked up one homemade tortilla neatly wrapped in soft aluminum paper. The food was still warm and the sharp fragrance of cilantro filled the office.
“Mmm, cheese toppings, too. You did a great job, Lorraine.” He unwrapped a small portion of the food and thrust it at her. As she bit into the taco, he stared at her with such a dreamy expression she began giggling. Bits of scrambled egg flew from her mouth and landed on the carpeted floor. She covered her mouth with her fingers and laughed uncontrollably.
“I know what
not
to buy you in the morning,” he teased and leaned down to clean bits of egg off the floor. He rose up and grinned. “Glad to finally see a pretty smile on your beautiful face.”
not
to buy you in the morning,” he teased and leaned down to clean bits of egg off the floor. He rose up and grinned. “Glad to finally see a pretty smile on your beautiful face.”
“Oh Wendell. Please,” she said dismissively.
His eyes darkened and narrowed. “So you don’t believe me? Should I have said your ‘ugly’ face?”
“No,” she said indignantly. “You shouldn’t.”
“Then why would you give me a hard time when I’m coming from the heart?”
“Look, I didn’t mean—”
“I don’t understand why women accuse men of lying all the time. If we give you a genuine compliment, you blow us off or act all coy and stuff like you don’t know how to respond to kindness. A simple ‘thank you’ is usually the best answer.”
“Jeez, get a grip. I’m sorry. You’re being hypersensitive right now.” Feeling embarrassed, she swirled away from him, eager to return to her cube.
“Wait, no,” he said looking regretful. “Lorraine, I’ll admit it. I am feeling oversensitive these days. I-I guess this means we should have a little talk. There’s something you need to know.”
Wendell wheeled a guest chair across the floor and patted it so Lorraine could take a seat.
“You’re beginning to worry me,” she said, folding her arms over her chest.
“Don’t worry. It’s just that in the short time we’ve been around each other, I can tell you’ve never met a man like me. I guess I should say there’s more to me than meets the eye.”
“And you’re telling me this because . . . ?”
“The deal is this, as far as my personal relationships go. Wow, this isn’t easy to say, but”—he took a deep breath—“I-I met this chick that I caught feelings for and, needless to say, she affected me to a great extreme. Sometimes a woman can do that to you. You’ll be so into her, she blinds you to everything around you.”
“Hmm, I heard that. She must’ve been pretty special, huh?”
“It was like I lost my mind. And the only way I can describe it is this: It was like I built a house that had a whole lot of windows, yet I still couldn’t see through them.”
Lorraine listened to him open up to her and she wondered if she should do the same. She quickly determined a relationship with a man could never develop if she was unwilling to be vulnerable. Even though she was scared to get hurt, relating to people always involved risk.
“Wendell, you’re preaching to the choir. But I can preach, too.”
“Preach!”
She unfolded her arms and stood to her feet. She began to pace the floor as she talked.
“You see, I know what it’s like to be involved with a man who, by all outward appearances, I shouldn’t have even been with. We spoke two different languages, and were way beyond the Mars versus Venus type of thing.”
“Explain.”
“I was educated.
Am
educated,” she corrected. “Highly educated. In contrast, my former lover barely graduated high school. He struggled financially, but had the nerve to state that he made one hundred grand a year on his MySpace profile. Truth was he periodically dabbled in under-the-table jobs to make ends meet. And back in the day, magazine articles advised women to stick with someone who shared the same social class, upbringing, and spiritual beliefs. But now, advice columnists tell you not to restrict yourself to just the same old predictable guy who you think you should have. They tell you if you can’t find your Ivy-League white-collar guy with the BMW, give a fair chance to the blue-collar man who has an associate’s degree and drives the Ford Focus. You hear what I’m trying to say.”
Am
educated,” she corrected. “Highly educated. In contrast, my former lover barely graduated high school. He struggled financially, but had the nerve to state that he made one hundred grand a year on his MySpace profile. Truth was he periodically dabbled in under-the-table jobs to make ends meet. And back in the day, magazine articles advised women to stick with someone who shared the same social class, upbringing, and spiritual beliefs. But now, advice columnists tell you not to restrict yourself to just the same old predictable guy who you think you should have. They tell you if you can’t find your Ivy-League white-collar guy with the BMW, give a fair chance to the blue-collar man who has an associate’s degree and drives the Ford Focus. You hear what I’m trying to say.”
“I hear ya.”
“Well, keep listening because there’s more. The fact that I was an educated black woman who paid her bills on time, listened to classical music, and ate somewhere besides Chickfil-A every other day made my little high-school-diploma guy feel he had to throw his weight around, put me in my place, tell me that my earning that degree wasn’t about anything. It’s just ‘a stupid little piece of paper.’ Can you believe he said that?”
“I believe that his response to your accomplishments says everything about
him
.”
him
.”
“Huh, my ex’s reaction said more than I ever wanted to hear,” she replied, happy Wendell understood. “Shoot, I studied hard and worked even harder to obtain that ‘stupid little piece of paper.’ But he was mad, he acted bad, and the boy can keep being sad because I’ve decided I will
not
dumb myself down and feel scared to share my accomplishments since it’s obvious he’s insecure and feels like a nobody because he ruined his life with poor choices. Not my problem. Not my fault.”
not
dumb myself down and feel scared to share my accomplishments since it’s obvious he’s insecure and feels like a nobody because he ruined his life with poor choices. Not my problem. Not my fault.”
“Baby girl, sounds like he wished he had what you had, but because he didn’t have what it takes to achieve success like you did, the only thing he was fit to do was degrade you!” Wendell said excitedly. “That’s what haters do.”
“I know, Wendell. But don’t get me wrong. Half the time he acted like he was proud of me, the other times he would hate on me and I would try my best to stop all that. I mean, how in the hell can a black man despise an educated, good-looking black woman, yet any of these black men would be sooo proud to flaunt a three-hundred-pound white or Hispanic woman who only has a funky G.E.D. but she’s a manager at Kroger? Not that there’s anything wrong with being a retail manager, but jeez, my issue is with the
man
. I don’t understand how some act as if he’s got it made only because he convinced a less successful non-black woman to marry his ass. Do you know how awful that makes me feel? As if a black woman who has her stuff together isn’t good enough? I’m getting pissed just thinking about it. Humph! That’s why I’m by myself right now.”
man
. I don’t understand how some act as if he’s got it made only because he convinced a less successful non-black woman to marry his ass. Do you know how awful that makes me feel? As if a black woman who has her stuff together isn’t good enough? I’m getting pissed just thinking about it. Humph! That’s why I’m by myself right now.”
“I’m not mad at ya.” Wendell nodded. “Your story makes me wonder about my own sit-u-ation,” he said emphasizing his words in a way that made Lorraine grin. She took a deep measured breath, settled in his guest chair, and waited for him to share his story. She appreciated this side of Wendell, the side that didn’t mind getting down and dirty. These days telling it like it is was what she wanted. She felt that black men ought to be strong enough to let their woman shine and know that her accomplishments didn’t take anything away from him.
“Wendell, you got a situation?” she teased.
“We all got sit-u-ations, let me tell ya.”
“I’m listening. Go ahead.”
“She walked like a queen who had a throne; head held very high, so high that I was afraid she wouldn’t even notice me the first time I noticed her.”
“Ah ha.”
“Elegant, wore Elizabeth Taylor perfume that smelled so sweet I could taste her. Vivacious shape with smooth brown skin that was so pretty I wanted to cup her face between my hands.”
“You liked that, huh?”
“I
loved
that. Loved how she carried herself: strong, confident, sexy, alluring. She had me from hello.”
loved
that. Loved how she carried herself: strong, confident, sexy, alluring. She had me from hello.”
“She said ‘hello’?” Lorraine said teasingly.
“Well, I said it
first
, but she said hello back, and she had me and had me and had me until she didn’t have me anymore.”
first
, but she said hello back, and she had me and had me and had me until she didn’t have me anymore.”
“Hold up. You’ve lost me.”
“See, this woman—”
“Again, does this woman have a name?”
“Faye.”
“Faye. Got it.”
“Faye had
me
, but as much as I wanted her, I never had
her
. She was a pro at playing the cat-and-mouse game. She let me get close enough to sniff it, but she wouldn’t let me touch it.”
me
, but as much as I wanted her, I never had
her
. She was a pro at playing the cat-and-mouse game. She let me get close enough to sniff it, but she wouldn’t let me touch it.”
“Ahh, and you really wanted to touch it, right?”
“I wanted to touch it and renovate it, put my hands all in it like it was that sand out there on Galveston Beach. I wanted to dig in it and mold and reshape it and make it everything I wanted it to be.”
“But she wasn’t down with that,” Lorraine said.
“Hey, are you going to let me tell the story in my own words or what?”
“Sorry, go ahead.”
“She wasn’t down with that,” he said sheepishly.
Lorraine felt like smacking Wendell, but she resisted and let him continue.
“The more Faye put space between us, the more I wanted to fill up that space. And I scared her away, frightened her right out of my life.”
“Where is she now?”
“She’s wherever women go when they’re trying to get away from a man.”
“She moved to another city, a different state?”
“She might as well have; that’s how far she feels from me.” Lorraine could sense that Wendell’s playful description of what happened was nothing to play with. He seemed deeply despondent. In a way she kind of wished he could be with the woman Faye, since he wanted her so badly. But just because you want something so badly that you hurt inside and out, it doesn’t mean that obtaining it would ease your pain.
“Wendell, I hear what you’re saying and I can relate, but maybe, for the both of us, not having these people in our lives is for the best. Some relationships are toxic and they make you worse, not better. Would that be true in your case?”
“I’ll never know, Lorraine. I never got close enough to even find out if her love tasted like poison. I just wanted a small sample.”
“Well, I can tell you one thing: you have admitted more intimate things to me than any man I’ve ever known. Usually they just won’t go there.”
“Won’t or can’t?”
“Maybe both. Guys can barely understand themselves, so it is hard for them to adequately explain the emotions they feel inside. To me it seems like some guys lack emotions. They can be so cold and cruel and uncaring.”
“Baby girl, what you don’t realize is behind closed doors, and late at night, real men break down. They cry when they think about their struggles. Many times they hit the gym, get fitted up in boxing gear, and take out their frustration on their sparring partner. It happens every day. Truth.”
“I appreciate that.” Lorraine thought about all the days Posse would tell her that he needed to let off some steam. Sometimes, he invited her to watch him shoot hoops at the neighborhood basketball court where the white net had been stolen, but the orange rim would suffice. The guys aggressively shoved each other, trying to defend their team. They’d dribble the ball all the way down the court, leap off their feet, ferociously slam that ball inside the hoop, and scream at the top of their lungs like they were releasing all their pain.
“Maybe I should have taken time to understand my guy a little more. I could rant and rave and accuse him of never wanting to spend time with me. And he’d argue back, tell me I was ‘wigging out’ or ‘you bugging, Lo.’ Eww, I hated when he’d say things like that. I’d tell him to speak English. He’d tell me the same thing. We were talking
to
each other but we couldn’t
hear
each other. It’s really sad when you think about it.”
to
each other but we couldn’t
hear
each other. It’s really sad when you think about it.”
“And so the story continues,” Wendell jumped in. “You meet a new man. Y’all hook up. Everything feels rosy. Time passes. Reality sets in. You have your first argument. It’s amusing at first. But then the arguments occur with greater frequency. What used to seem cute now makes you cry. And you wake up one day, balled up in pain and hating his guts, and you wonder how you got there.”
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