Heard It All Before (13 page)

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Authors: Michele Grant

BOOK: Heard It All Before
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He stopped pacing and frowned down at me. “You know better than to roll out of the house without a charged cell phone. Why don't you have a car charger? And, yes, you may be from Dallas, but it's clear you had not a clue in hell of where you were driving. With a GPS, you would not have had to stop and get out of your car—your expensive luxury car, I might add. You hear me?” His voice rose with every syllable.
I laughed at him. “Rom—”
He cut me off. “No, Jewel. Listen. That McDonald's where you were is a major gang hangout. They deal drugs and guns through there; it gets raided all the time! Do you understand me? It was on a nationwide report as one of the few McDonald's in the nation that actually loses money. NO one goes in there for a Big Mac and fries. Are you feeling me?”
I jumped up. “I knew it! See, this is why I hate coming over here. A simple McDonald's and you have to be scared for your life!” I whirled on him. “Damn this equal-time shit. You wanna see me, bring your ass to North Dallas.” As soon as it was out, it seemed like the wrong thing to say, but shit, I'd been traumatized this evening—couldn't always be reasonable, right, and politically correct. It was my ass standing smack in the middle of gangland this evening.
“You think you're safe over there in Yuppieville? Gangsters live round there too; you just don't see it on the news. Shit, Jewel, crime is everywhere. Whatcha gonna do? Live in a fortress and never come out? Your neighbors commit crime, too, you know.” He was mad. I don't think I had seen him mad before. “I can't stand a narrow-minded stereotyping hypocrite.”
My eyebrows shot up. “I beg your pardon?” Hypocrite, me?
“Beg what you want. That's exactly what you sounded like. Besides, that's not the point. The point is, if you had your cell charger or a GPS unit, you wouldn't have had to stop at that McDonald's at all. You can afford it, Jewel, and it's just good sense.”
I tried to defend myself. “If the guy at the gas station spoke English, I would have gotten directions from him.” Okay, it was a weak argument, but I'm not one to admit wrongness easily.
He looked like he was going to be sick. “Not that dilapidated Exxon up the street from the McDonald's?”
I suddenly felt a little queasy. Ah, shit, what now? “Well, yeah.”
He fell backward onto the sofa and put a hand over his eyes. “Ah Christ, Jewel, that place is mostly a crack house. Do you watch the news at all, Jewellen Rose?
Dallas SWAT, Dateline
, truTV, anything to give you a clue of the criminal element present in the city you live in?” He made me feel very stupid and very small.
Well, now I was getting mad. Was it my fault I didn't know the hood hot spots? “Yes, I watch the damn news! I just don't happen to chart the latest vice squad investigation zones or watch truTV! What the hell is truTV anyway?” Now I was pacing. When I thought about how many things I had done the absolute wrong way, I sat down next to him.
He turned to me. “Let's chill for a sec, chill, chill. I'm going off 'cause I didn't realize how naive you are 'bout shit like this. And you are just starting to realize how close you came to being a stat on the ten o'clock crime watch. Okay? Let's ease up.” He took a deep breath. “First off, you gotta get a charger and a GPS. I'm not playing, Jewel.” He tilted my chin up and stared me down. That look with those eyes meant no argument.
“Okay, okay.” When a man like this looked at you like that, you'd pretty much agree to anything.
“Second, I want you to start spending more time around here.”
“No way in hell.” Okay, so I wouldn't agree to
any
thing; I had my limits.
“Yes. During the day at first, driving around, getting familiar with the streets around my house. We'll work up to nights, branching out so you'll at least know what's safe and what's not.”
“No,” I repeated stubbornly. I could be pretty darn stubborn. I just flat out wanted nothing to do with it. Shit, we didn't have safe/not safe spots on the Northside. At least, none that I bothered to know about.
“Equal time, Jewel. Your turf, my turf. Or nothing at all. I ain't playing.” So, he was stubborn too. Great, two hardheads determined to have their own way.
“I don't want to. My turf doesn't have danger zones.”
“Oh, yeah? Not two months ago, a guy in a complex four blocks from your house got raided. He was selling all kinds of shit to you uptown folk. Your precious Willow Bend Mall has recorded more crime in the last six months than any other area of town.”
How did he know this kind of shit? “Oh yeah, well, those were rare cases.”
“Why? Because you didn't know anything about it?”
I decided not to answer. He was right. For all I knew, there could be a meth house down the block from me.
He continued. “You know what else you get out in the burbs?” He didn't wait for me to respond. “You get the crazies: the serial killers, the axe murderers, the psycho rapists, the kids who kill their parents, and the wives who run over their husbands. Over here, the crime is out in the street where you can see it; over there, you never know where it's lurking 'til it becomes a Sunday night movie of the week. Over here, we can roll down the street and at least I've got a good idea of which house ya best not trick or treat at. Now, which do you prefer?”
He got all intelligent at the damnedest times. Every word he said was true enough; every point he had was valid enough. But I was struggling with this embrace-the-hood thing.
“Why do you have to live over here anyway?” I tried not to whine ... but I wanted to. I was out of my comfort zone, and I didn't like it. Never considered myself set in my ways or closed-minded, but damn, I was having growing pains with this shit.
“It's where I was brought up. It's where I'm comfortable. I like to live among my people.”
I rolled my eyes. “Roman, even though you rushed me along, I got a decent look at this house, this block. This is that renovated area of Oak Cliff, isn't it? This house is huge, three stories, you said? You can't tell me that the homeys are all living this large up and down the block.”
“Actually, some of these houses are owned by whites and rented out to blacks. But you're right—there is a lot of diversity around this section of the Cliff. This isn't really the hood. It's in the midst, though. I go to the grocery store and see black faces. The bank up the street is black owned; the shopping center around the corner is black owned and operated. We're working on getting another black country club off in the old Redbird area, and you know how prosperous that predominantly black area is. I like being here with black folk, Jewel.”
I sighed. He made it sound so pleasant, like a community working together for the good of the race. I just sent checks to NAACP and the United Negro College Fund twice a year and figured I was doing my part. Plus, I tried to hire the sisters and brothers to work through the agency. Of course, I never tried to get clients out here on this side of town. Matter of fact, I had very few black clients. I sighed again. Just when you thought you're doing something, you found out there's more you should do. Damn, sister starting to feel a little shallow for a minute. His arms slid around me while I sat there thinking it over.
I leaned into him, knowing I was about to give in. The long and short of it was, if I wanted to keep this boy around, I had to give in on this, because it was obvious he was not going to. Granted, I wasn't sure yet if he was worth all of this changing, but at this point, I had a lot more to lose than gain by being stubborn. I would concede this point—not graciously, but I would concede.
“So, are we on? Equal time?” he whispered in my ear.
No fair for one man to be this likable, this sexy, this ... everything. I had a sudden vision of Jaquenetta snuggled up here on the couch with Roman, and I didn't like it, not one bit. “Jaquenetta ever live here?”
He frowned at my change of subject. “Naw, she barely been beyond the front door. Maybe as far as Chase's room. I told ya, I don't cotton to having her difficult ass round much. Why?”
I smiled at him. “No reason. And, yeah, we're on. Equal time.”
12
Do You Know What Today Is?
Gregory—Tuesday, July 22, 9:00 p.m.
 
 
“W
here the hell have you been?” Renee was screaming like a banshee. Not a new occurrence, nor a pleasant one.
I almost stepped outside and checked the apartment number. “Mom, is that you?” I asked before walking in. One look at her made me want to turn around and go back out. She was standing in the middle of the living room in what can best be described as a paramilitary stance. She was armed with a wicked-looking spatula and a damp dishtowel. I stifled a sigh.
Welcome home, baby. How was your day
? Not gonna get any of that this evening, huh?
“Very funny, asshole. I asked you a damn question.” The mood was tart.
Well, damn. I took a second to close the door, lock it, and set the alarm while trying to figure what I'd done to piss her off ... this time. “What's wrong?”
“Now, if I have to ask you again, we gonna be in trouble. I done told you and told you how I feel about this shit. If you're playing off on me, you can just pack your shit and get to stepping.” She stormed into the kitchen and started slamming dishes around.
Best strategy, I learned, during these misunderstandings with Renee was to focus on the root of the outburst and not get carried away on one of her tangents. The issue was not where I had been or if I was playing off. I had to find out what the real issue was and address that. I walked around the corner and noticed she had set up a romantic dinner for two. “Ray, I told you I had late meetings today! Why'd you go to all this trouble?” Normally, if I work late, she orders something in.
“A late meeting that lasts till nine p.m.? You must take me for a damn fool.” She almost threw a crystal wineglass into the sink, and she was very careful with her possessions, me being one of them for now. It came from not having too much as a child, I think. This obsession with possessing and being possessed, so to speak. But back to the thing at hand.
“Ray, I told you! Rome got the bank involved in this new development, and the board assigned me to it, remember? I was with him at this planning meeting for hours.” Establishing a firm alibi never hurt, even when you had nothing to hide!
“Uh-huh, is that right? So how come I just got off the phone with Jewel and Rome is already at Jewel's for a late dinner?” She stopped and glared at me. I felt like a trapped animal. And I was innocent!
Lord, the insecurity of this woman. You'd think since I had to come home to face her damn mercurial moods every night, just once I'd get a break. Nope. Night after night, I practically tiptoed in here, never knowing who I might find. Penthouse Pet of the Month or Doris Day or Attila the Hun or Medusa. Tonight, it was the jealousy theme again. Ever since her little friend Tammy came over here attempting to throw her stuff in my face, I have been treated to this delightful possessive side of Renee's personality. At first, I had to admit, it kept things exciting.
That air of mystery, that fascination with figuring out all the facets of her personality. Fighting madly, then making up wildly, that kind of thing was a high for a minute or two. Now I was just about at my limit truthfully. I gave anyone, especially a woman, the right to be moody from time to time, but from hour to hour? So why was I still hanging in here?
I had a couple of reasons. Valid, well-thought-out reasons. One, the down times. Those times when she was open and sweet and just plain Renee. At those times, I felt like she understood me and I understood her better than any other two people in the world. I felt like we fit. Two, the sex. Weak, I admitted to myself. It wasn't as if we invented it and I couldn't get it anywhere else. Just that it was perfect. Okay, not 100 percent perfect, 100 percent of the time. But if it was 200 percent damn near 80 percent of the time, I didn't mind if it was 75 percent the other 20 percent.
The same thing that drove me crazy about Renee out of bed was the same thing that drove me out of my mind in bed—those rapid mood changes. There was something about slipping under the covers with the good girl only to find out she was a porn star in disguise or vice versa.
And the other thing keeping me here? Me. Renee still made me feel something I had never felt before. You might notice I hesitated to call it love. That was only because I wasn't sure I had a good concept of what that truly was supposed to be. Women have said they loved me, but I never felt loved by them. Some of my boys said they had fallen in love, but I never noticed anything loverlike in their actions. In my parents, I saw that affection and mutual respect and an overall sense of ease with each other. But I thought you'd get that with almost anyone you spent forty-two years day in and day out with, right?
Some people said that when you meet the Person, the One, you would just know. Well, when I met Renee, I knew I had to get with her, but I wasn't thinking forever. Then we started spending time together, and I stopped thinking short-term and starting thinking long range. Like instead of days, I thought weeks. Now adjusting to months. But forever? Till death do us part? I wouldn't swear to it.
What I did know was that whatever I felt for her was strong enough for me to stand here and take this shit. So here I stood, trying to answer her stupid question about why Rome made it to Jewel's before I made it here. After a long day like this one, I was all out of witty comebacks. “I guess he drives faster than I do.”
She tossed the spatula in the sink. “You just full of little jokes tonight, huh?”
I tossed my briefcase in a chair and took off my jacket. “If you say so, honey. What's for dinner?”
The look she sent me would have frozen water at twenty-five paces in August. “You didn't eat?”
I shrugged. “They served sandwiches at four-thirty or so. I'm starved. Any calls?”
She threw her hands up and stomped back to the bathroom. I could hear her running water into the tub and muttering under her breath. I decided it was best to let her cool off. I dialed up the voice mail and listened to a message from my mother, her mother, my brother, Tammy, and Aaron. Nothing that could have set her off and nothing that had to be returned tonight. I opened the fridge to scan the leftovers. Hey, shrimp and pasta? A cheesecake from my favorite bakery and champagne? What was the occasion?
Oh shit! I went over to my briefcase and took out my BlackBerry. I flipped through the calendar to today. Damn! Three-month anniversary of our first date. Renee was hell about anniversaries like this. Anniversary of our first date, first time we slept together, day I moved in ... it was never-ending.
But see, I was actually prepared. I figured, this one was a pretty big anniversary for us, seeing as I wasn't sure we'd make it three days. I thought the big day was tomorrow, though. If we go by day of the week, it
was
tomorrow. But if we counted numerical dates, like actual ninety days, damn—today.
I walked back to the bedroom. She had a navy teddy laid out on the bed. Oh yeah, I had to redeem myself. She was bringing out the big guns, and I wasn't here to cock 'em, so to speak.
As I said, though, I was prepared. Flowers are going to be delivered tomorrow to her office, and the present was in my briefcase. Maybe if I broke out the present now ... I stood in the closet plotting, seriously. What to do, what to say? Within seconds, I had a plan.
I stripped down to my boxers before grabbing the champagne and two glasses from the kitchen. On my way back to the bathroom, I put the
Best of Luther
CD on repeat, took the phone off the hook, and doused the lights. I lit a big candle and stuck it in a holder. I grabbed the present—hadn't wrapped it yet anyway—and headed to the bathroom. I reached in and clicked off the lights.
“What the—?” Renee called out from that huge tub. “Gregory?”
“Who else would it be, Ray?” I walked in, leaving the door open so that Luther could be properly appreciated. Luther never fails as a wingman. I put down the lid of the toilet and set the candle down. I placed the champagne and glasses beside the tub, tossed my boxers aside, and climbed in.
“Greg!” How she could sound shocked after all we had done to and with each other was beyond me. Of course, we'd never done the tub before. And it was plenty big enough for the both of us.
“Um-hmm? Man, you think you got this water hot enough? Trying to boil a brother up in here.” I eased down behind her and pulled her toward me. She was stiff and resistant, but I ignored that. When she was flush against me, I reached over and picked up her present. I put the thin platinum chain around her neck and adjusted it so that the diamond heart hung properly. I fastened it in back and kissed the side of her neck. “Happy anniversary, baby. I love you.” Damn, but I'm smooth and I'm almost sure I meant it!
She went absolutely still for a second before looking down at her chest. I gotta say, diamonds look good by candlelight on my baby. “Oh, Greggy.” She sighed and relaxed against me.
Ha! I'm Greggy again. Tell me I didn't know women ... this woman! And here came the ultimate follow-through: “Sorry I didn't call and tell you how late the meeting was gonna run.” Sometimes you had to man up and apologize even when you've done nothing wrong.
She shimmied around in the water and wrapped her arms and legs around me. “It's okay.” She leaned forward and kissed me in one of those slow and sexy ways she had of telling me it's about to be
on
. “Wait a minute,” she said when we came up for air.
“What?” Why did women always want to talk at the weirdest moments? Listen, I was in a hot bubble bath with Luther singing, candles flickering, champagne chilling, and a crazy fine woman wrapped around me, I had nothing more to say.
“I got you something too,” she whispered, backing away for a minute.
“Oh yeah?” I smiled and pulled her back.
“Yeah.”
“Well, why don't you give me a little something right now and the other thing later, hmm?”
“Oh, Greggy.” She giggled. “I love you too. You're so crazy.”
Crazy like a fox. Maybe I understood this love thing after all.
Times like this made you forget all the others. I knew it was going to be a while before we drank that champagne, and the candle was a goner. I'd have to heat up the pasta thing later on. Luther was singing “Here and Now” as she pulled my lips back to hers.

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