Diva Diaries (38 page)

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Authors: Janine A. Morris

BOOK: Diva Diaries
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87
Birds of a Feather Flock Together
C
hrasey couldn't talk about Jordan or anybody else, for that matter. She was supposed to be working things out with her husband, but there were still remnants of her affair haunting her.
One night she walked out of her job and she started to walk toward her car, which was parked up the street at a metered parking spot. She had been putting quarters in every two hours for the whole day, and she was running a little late, so she was hurrying so she wouldn't get a ticket. Cops sometimes just scope the neighborhood for expired meters, and after all her efforts all day she would be pissed if she got one now. As she rushed toward the block her car was on, she noticed a black BMW parked right outside of her workplace. It was too far away to see who was in it, but it was the same model and make as an old friend of hers.
Once she saw it and thought it could be him, she instantly became nervous. Butterflies were in her stomach, her breathing patterns changed, and she could feel herself getting sweaty. She anticipated him getting out of the car and walking up behind her or calling her name. She wanted to think he wasn't still an issue, but he was. To see Trevor would probably make Chrasey weak again.
He hadn't really been in touch much. He called once or twice, but for the most part, what they shared had died. He was respectful of her request, but he made it clear that he was giving her some time to think. She imagined him popping up at her job, just because he was that kind of sweet guy that would relive the first time they met over and over. She just hadn't imagined it today. So as she continued to walk to her car, she kept glancing over her shoulder. The car was just sitting there and no one was getting out. She started to wonder if it wasn't Trevor, but what a coincidence that would be.
By the time she got to her car, there was still no activity from the BMW. Then she realized what a fool she was, because she was hoping that was Trevor and it wasn't. She had to laugh at herself. Here she was, trying to get prepared for his attempt to see her, and he was somewhere probably not even thinking about her. She had been trying to fool herself. She wanted to see Trevor just as much as she thought Trevor wanted to see her.
She just couldn't pull off without seeing if that was Trevor. She figured maybe he didn't get out of the car because he got scared or maybe he just wanted to see her but he wasn't trying to bother her. That would be considered some form of stalking, but flattering nonetheless. She had wanted Trevor to call or show up. For a second she didn't want to check so that if it wasn't him, at least she could have walked away with the thought that it possibly was. Instead she drove by anyway, and as she reached the side of the car she glanced in. There was a woman sitting there on her cell phone. Maybe she was waiting on someone or was lost, whatever—Chrasey didn't care. It wasn't Trevor.
88
Wires Crossed
D
akota and Tony had just come back from dinner, and she was ready to just pass out in the bed. Her stomach was stuffed, and not from the baby, from the food. They'd gone to the Shark Bar and had eaten steak and potatoes, macaroni and cheese, yams, all that good soul food. Tony just felt like some soul food, and Dakota wasn't up for cooking. Once he knew not to ask her twice, he decided they would make a date of it and go out to eat. That was one of the beautiful things about living in the city—all the best places were all around her house. They didn't have to travel far to go somewhere nice.
When they got back, she lay flat on her back on the bed. Her stomach was too big to lie on it anymore. She was lying there, feeling restless, when Tony walked in the room. He was full, too, and it was late—they were both going to be asleep before long. They had a case of Niggeritous. He turned on the television and started watching football as he started to change out of his clothes to get in the shower. He took his pants and shirt off and put them on the chair and went in the bathroom with his boxers on.
She lay there, too lazy to move. She did change the channel, though, turning to the TBS station to watch
Sex in the City
. She was lying there watching Samantha paint the town in her yellow minidress when she heard a slight noise from Tony's pants pockets. She figured it was his cell phone and was going to mind her own business. She heard it some more, and still ignored it, continuing to watch the show. Carrie was having some big argument with Big and it was getting good. Then, about two minutes later, she heard it vibrating some more. Once again, she ignored it, although her curiousity was starting to surface. Then she heard another noise, and this time it was coming from the dresser. She looked up and Tony had put his cell phone, wallet, and keys on the dresser. So what was shaking in his pocket then? That was when she decided against minding her own business.
She got up and waddled over to his pants pocket. At first she started not to check—she knew how invasive and insecure it was to go through his things. But then she went in his pocket anyway; she also knew how foolish it was to act blind to the obvious. She felt around and pulled out a blue cell phone. It was a different phone from the one she was used to seeing—the one she knew of was silver. She was confused for a second, but after a few moments it didn't take much for her to figure it out. The ultimate player had two cell phones. One for the girls only, one that wifey doesn't know about. She was no dummy—she was a player, too. Besides, she knew of several other players and high-profile clients of hers that did this same thing. To verify her suspicion, she proceeded to check the contacts in the blue phone. From A-Z, there was an array of female names. From Ashley, Briana, Claudette, Diandra, to Nicole, Meka, all the way to Quinece and Zane. Every single entry, excluding like six, were females. She then looked in the photos of the phone—she wasn't sure what made her check that out, but she guessed she wanted as much information as possible. When she looked at the phone photos, all the pictures were of girls. Some girls in the club, some in his limos, some even in hotel rooms. Most of them were scantily dressed and looked like they had just stepped off of a video shoot. Some were just the average scalawag that he probably met at a club. They all were assigned to a phone number—she guessed so he could remember who was who when they called or he called them.
She was disgusted—he must have really been out there doing his thing. She knew he had some sort of black book, but this was at a totally different level. Then she had to ask herself,
Was I just one of those girls gone wrong
? She wasn't supposed to be anything more than a chick in his second phone, and now he was trapped because of her big belly. She checked and her number was in the phone, and it was assigned a speed dial number. Oh whee for her—she was top ten of the 113 entries. She was so pissed that he would dare have her in there, she was ready to barge into the bathroom. First she needed to calm down and get her facts straight. She then took the silver phone off the dresser and checked it. The contacts had family and friends' numbers, and a bunch of names she didn't recognize. She was in that phone as well.
Did I graduate to this phone, or was I always in both
? she wondered to herself. She looked in the pictures of the phone on the dresser and it had just a picture or two of his daughter.
Just before she was figuring out what she would say to Tony when he came out of the bathroom, something told her to check the call history. She looked in his silver phone, and the missed call that had just come in was from Jonelle. Then she looked in his ho phone, and surprisingly, the missed call was from the same number. Jonelle knew about the phone? That didn't make sense. If she knew about the phone, what was the secret? It couldn't just be for Dakota. Was he telling the truth that he and Jonelle weren't that serious? She heard the shower turn off, so real quickly, just for any future investigation, she dialed her cell phone with the ho phone so she would have the number in her caller ID. Then she jotted down Jonelle's number and put both the ho phone and the silver phone on the dresser. She purposely didn't put the blue phone back in his pocket. She wanted him to see it. She was ready for war.
He came out of the shower with his boxers on and the towel around his neck. At first she let him walk around the bedroom for a bit before she said anything.
“Jonelle called you on both your phones,” she said as she lay calmly in the bed with the remote in her hand, flicking channels.
She saw him look at the dresser as he said, “What?”
Both phones were sitting on the dresser, and she could tell he was disconcerted.
He picked up both phones and looked in them. She couldn't tell what he was thinking because he hadn't said anything to her yet. It looked like he was checking the call histories on the phone, and he seemed a little stressed after he finished looking in the ho phone. He was probably verifying that Jonelle called both phones. He sat on the edge of the bed and it looked like he was checking his voice mail on the ho phone. She turned the television down some so she could try to hear; usually his volume was up high enough that you could hear through the earpiece. After he pushed a few buttons, she heard the voice of a female who didn't sound very happy. Tony's body language showed that he was clearly not his cool self.
He hung up the phone and looked at her. “Why were you in my pockets?” he asked with an attitude.
“The phone was vibrating—I didn't know what it was,” she answered with an attitude right back.
“So?” he said.
She felt herself losing her calm. He had no room for argument, he was in her house, sleeping in her bed, with his penis inside of her almost every night, and was upset because she caught him trying to be a player.
“So, I went to see what it was. I didn't expect to find your ho phone,” she said.
“This is my business line,” he said.
“Tony, I looked through it. That is your ho phone.”
“Why you going all through my shit?”
“Why you lying, is a
better
question.”
He was obviously flustered, and it turned out he had double the stress to deal with. His phone was ringing, and when she caught her quick glance it was Jonelle calling the ho phone back. He didn't answer, and she sat in silence to see what he was going to do next. The other phone rang.
He went into the bathroom, and answered it. He didn't know that she already saw the Caller ID and knew exactly who it was. She had hawk eyes, and a superhero's smell and hearing these days. He tried to start off the conversation real nonchalant; then she heard him saying, “What phone? ... That was my business line, I don't really use it anymore.”
She must not have been buying it, either. What kind of luck was that? Both of us were finding out about the phone on the same night. He was getting it from both sides. She heard him trying to convince Jonelle that the phone was for people he didn't want to give his real number to and that he did business with. Business, all right—no-good business. She felt like starting up in the background, but she knew that when he was done copping pleas to Janelle, she would have her turn. It sounded like it didn't work, whatever he was saying, because he seemed on edge through the whole conversation.
As soon as he hung up and came back into the bedroom, she looked at him and said, “Don't even try to sell me that bullshit.”
“Dakota, please—not now,” he said with his back turned to her.
“Not now? Then when? I don't care if your other woman just broke on you, too—that's what you get for not keeping your dick in your pants.”
“No, you being pregnant is what I get for that.”
Dakota stopped in her tracks. She couldn't believe he would say something like that. He glanced at her and caught a glimpse of her expression. Before Dakota could reply, Tony realized just how hurtful that was. He turned toward her and said, “I'm sorry, D ... I didn't mean that.”
She wanted to break, wanted to curse him the hell out—that hit her where it hurt. She was speechless. All she could do was shake her head and turn over.
“D, really, I didn't mean that.”
She was tired of fighting, tired of needing, tired of lying to herself. She could have been the tough diva and cursed him out and kicked him out, or given the whole 'Kota-don't-play-that speech. What was the point, though? He knew like she did that it would only be a matter of time before she would move past it, just like she did every other time he disrespected her. Why did she even complain about the phone? Jonelle got the real lies—Dakota wasn't a priority to be saved from the hurt. Hell, he was on the phone with Jonelle in her place—who was she fooling? She used to feel the fact that she was more aware of what was going on, and he was more up front and honest with her made her more important. She told herself he cared more about her. Truth was, you lie to the ones you love to save them from the pain. The chicks that you don't care what they think, or if they get mad and walk, those are the ones you are honest with. What has this relationship come to, when she was lying in her bed wishing she was the special girl that could be lied to and kept in the dark?
89
Memories
C
hrasey had started her car and checked her side mirror to make sure she could pull out. Her car was filthy dirty—she needed to go to the car wash. Instead, she was on her way to the supermarket, to pick up some things for dinner.
The kids were at home with Keith, and she drove down Farmers Boulevard and pulled up in front of the Bravo Super Market. She parked the car and went inside. She was still dressed from work—she didn't bother to change, other than to take off her heels and put on her sneakers. Her hair could have used a brush, and her already-scarce makeup was pretty much completely rubbed off. She didn't look a hot mess, but it was obvious that she just gone through the beating of a day's work.
She'd already loaded her cart with bread, fruit packs, and a value-pack of chips for the kids' lunches for the rest of the week and was headed toward the frozen aisle. She rolled her cart through the store, trying to maneuver her way through the other customers. It was near to closing time and everyone was trying to get their last purchases for dinner or tomorrow's breakfast. She made it to the frozen aisle and was reaching inside the refrigerator, getting frozen broccoli to make with tonight's dinner, when she felt a bump against the refrigerator door. She tried to glance through to give the person a dirty look, but she couldn't see through the foggy glass. She finished getting the broccoli and as she closed the door back, Trevor was standing on the other side.
“Trevor?” she said.
“Chrasey ...” he said with a big smile.
She looked down and saw he was with his daughter. She was absolutely gorgeous, with the prettiest eyes.
“This must be your little princess,” she said.
“Hi,” she said in the shyest little-girl voice. She had reached for her daddy's hand, and he took her hand back. They looked at each other for a couple of seconds before either one of them said anything. It seemed that they were both happy to see each other, but it was also obvious that they were uneasy as well.
“You all rude, bumping into me and stuff,” she said, trying to be natural.
“My bad,” he said, somewhat laughing.
He looked down at his daughter to see how much attention she was paying to them. He probably wanted to say something but wanted to see if it was safe. Of course, it wasn't—she was looking straight into both of their faces.
“Let me let you get back to your shopping ... I'll talk to you soon,” she said as she put her broccoli in her cart and tried to give him sincere eye contact.
He gave her a sincere look back, and said, “Yeah, I'll give you a call later.”
They walked their separate ways. She wondered if he could see it in her eyes, if her look conveyed her thoughts. It wasn't until seeing him at that very moment, that she saw it so clearly; she just wondered if he caught a glimpse of it. She missed him. She missed the days when he was the solution to her problems. Where, when things were really bad, she could go out with him somewhere. She guessed what she missed was the control—the control over her own happiness. He allowed her to have that, because she knew when she wanted, she had someone to “make it better.” Now she was back in a life where she relied on Keith. Keith's mood, Keith's words, Keith's actions. If Keith felt like coming home and trying to make her happy, then she'd have a good night, but if he wasn't in the mood, she just had to wait and see what the next night brought. The even sadder part was that even Keith didn't have total control. Her love for him wasn't genuine enough anymore. That's why she missed Trevor, and the ability to control her life.
She had walked to the register after she picked up some juice, cooking oil, and packs of chicken. She looked over at the Entenmann's section, and man, did she want some, but her thing was not to have it in her house so she wouldn't crave it. She went to line 5 and waited behind a man and a lady in front of him. The other lines had at least three to four people and there were only two other lines open. She stood there glancing at the tabloids in the magazine rack when she heard a little girl's voice say, “Excuse me.” She looked down and she was squeezing by her and the man in front of her. As she passed, Chrasey noticed it was Trevor's daughter. She stopped and stood by the woman who was ringing up. Then, just as it was registering, Chrasey looked up and Trevor was walking around to the other end of the line to wait. She looked at him and he looked at her, but they said nothing and made no facial expressions. They pretended for a moment that they didn't know each other. She looked at him, she looked at his daughter, and then she looked at the woman his daughter was standing with. She made sure that Trevor saw her eyes make these moves, so he would silently get that she was telling him that she got it. Luckily, his daughter didn't see her—she squirmed by them without looking up.
She couldn't get a real good look at the lady until she went to walk off. After she paid, she took some of the bags and their daughter's hand and walked a little farther from the cashier. Trevor moved from where he had been standing and grabbed the remaining bags and walked away behind her. She was a pretty woman—not hard to imagine, with the flawless looks of their daughter. She was about Chrasey's size, a little smaller, but a full-framed figure nonetheless. She was light-skinned, had long black hair with red streaks, and it looked like she had hazel eyes. They could have been contacts, but she was pulling them off real nice. Her nails and makeup game looked on point, along with her clothes. She was dressed fairly well, but just from her demeanor it was obvious she was a well-kept woman.
For about two seconds, Chrasey got jealous. She knew what type of man Trevor was, and she wished she had that attentive and caring man walking out of the Bravo Supermarket with her and her daughter. She waited for the man in front of her to finish ringing his stuff up as she watched Trevor leave. Then it was her turn to get her items rung up, and she looked down for a second to make sure everything was on the conveyer belt. As she looked back up, she saw Trevor looking back her way. He gave her a look at the last second before he was out of sight. She interpreted the look to say
sorry, wish this wasn't how we saw each other for the first time in a while. I wish it could be different
.
Chrasey got back home and went straight to the kitchen, put the couple of bags down, and went to check on the kids. She walked by Keith, who was sitting in the living room, and went up to the kids' bedroom.
“You guys finished your homework?” she asked. “You better be, since you in here playing.”
They simultaneously answered “Yes,” and went on playing.
“Well, before dinner I want to see it, and if anything is incomplete you're going to get it,” she said as she went back downstairs.
She went back into the kitchen and started cooking dinner. She couldn't get Trevor off her mind. Seeing him, the memories of them, life with Keith now, everything Trevor knew from before, and everything he didn't know now. He left the door open for her to call when she was ready, but how would she just try to start things back up? Just call him now that she'd seen him in the store and pick up where they'd left off? It didn't matter, anyway, because she wasn't even supposed to be thinking about Trevor. She was working things out with Keith, and Trevor was going to make that hard to do.
She had finished prepping the food, and everything was frying, boiling, and baking when she sat down for a quick second. She picked up her cell phone to call Dakota and found she had a missed call in her phone. She hit VIEW to see who it was, and it was Trevor. He had called twenty minutes ago. She felt a skip in her heartbeat. Without even thinking, she hit CALL and started ringing his phone back. She felt herself getting nervous as the rings felt shorter and shorter. He picked up the phone.
“Hey, babe,” he answered.
Just hearing him call her “babe” sent a chill through her. It was sincere pet-name calling, like from his heart. The rare times that Keith did it, she could tell it was phony and forced.
“Hey, Trev.”
“Listen, Chrase ...” he started. She heard in his tone that he was about to apologize for the supermarket.
“You don't have to say anything,”
“No, I do. That was crazy for me. I left there and dropped them off at home. I called to see if you could come out for a few moments and we could talk, but now I'm almost home.”
“Oh, I had to start dinner anyway.” For a moment she wondered, what if he had caught her when he called twenty minutes ago? Would she have tried to sneak away for a little bit? She knew she would have wanted to. She was happy that he didn't get her.
“I figured, but still, that was Trianna's mom. I was just taking her to get some things for the house,” Trevor explained.
“I figured. Trianna is gorgeous,” she said.
“Thanks.”
“First of all, who am I to complain anyway?” Chrasey said.
“You're my future hopefully.”
“Trev? Future?”
“Well, a part of it, I hope. I miss you, Chrasey.”
“You say that now, until you start seeing somebody.”
“I'm seeing someone now.”
“What? You are?”
“Yeah, she is cool.”
“So why you care about me?” she said with a slightly obvious attitude. She didn't want to be so obvious but a little 'tude appeared.
“It's not serious like that—it could be one day, but right now we are just chilling.”
She tried to get her cool back; besides, she had to wrap up the phone call. She didn't want to push it and have Keith come walking in the kitchen and they have part two.
“Well, that's good to hear—don't want you giving up my seat,” she said.
“Never,” he replied.
“Well, listen, Trev, I gotta go. Food is gonna burn. I'll give you a call soon.”
“OK,” he said. “Don't be a stranger.”
“You neither,” she said.
They laughed a bit and then they hung up.
She went over to the stove to check on the food. She stirred, flipped, and poked some stuff and then went to get the seasoning salt. As she walked toward the spices, her cell phone rang again. It was Trevor. She answered the phone.
“Hello?”
“Chrasey, I meant it when I said I miss you.”
“I miss you, too, Trevor ... I really do,” she said back. “But I really have to go.”
He seemed happy to hear her say it back—he was happy that she didn't lie about it. She just hoped he knew how much she really meant it. Trevor lifted her spirits, he lifted her self-esteem. She felt ten years younger with Trevor—they'd gone out and had fun and she felt like she was enjoying life. There was no baggage with Trevor, no ugly memories, no deep feelings of hate and distrust. With Trevor, romance was possible, and she liked the idea of possibility.

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