I Left My Back Door Open (14 page)

When I got home, I checked my voice mail. I wasn't at all surprised when I heard Jade's voice. She was still in the city and wanted to drop by and have a word with me after her class. I coaxed Langston out of his favorite window and petted him in order to relax my nerves. I wasn't in the mood for Jade to get in my face about Bill.

I had to make my own decisions about people. Bill knew he'd messed up, but his actions weren't unforgivable, I said to myself as I answered the doorbell.

Jade looked fit to be tied. She was still wearing her sparkly belly dance costume, but her face told a different story. Langston instinctively kept his distance, immediately disappearing upstairs into the sleeping loft. I offered Jade tea, although I could have really used a glass of wine myself.

“I can't believe that you let Bill manipulate you like that!” Jade shouted, followed me into the kitchen area.

“I don't let anybody manipulate me,” I insisted, setting the red enamel tea-kettle down on the stove.

“Why was it
so
important for him to talk to you?”

“He just wanted closure,” I said, flicking on the gas burner.

“He set you up is what he did,” Jade fumed. “Bill knew we were meeting in that conference room. He timed it perfectly.”

I folded my arms and leaned against the kitchen counters. “No, he didn't. We ended up talking longer than either of us expected,” I explained, facing Jade. “Nobody could've predicted that Bill and I would hit it off the way that we did.”

“Hit it off,” Jade echoed accusingly. “So he's your newfound friend? Is that what you're saying?” She narrowed her almond-shaped eyes.

“No, I'm saying that we had
one
decent conversation and it cleared the air. It's probably better for us to be on good terms, if possible,” I said, straightening my posture.

“Bill already thinks I'm a raving feminist,” Jade said, waving her arms. “Now that you're so cozy with him, I look even more like a lone lunatic. Don't you see that he's only using you to get back at me?” Her eyes pleaded with me to understand. “And what better audience than me and the mediator? It was so perfect.” Jade bit her bottom lip and shook her head. “And so inappropriate.”

I glanced up at the high ceiling. “Look, Jade, I don't know what Bill's agenda is or whether he even has one. But I think I know when to trust my own instincts.”

“Your instincts should've told you that Bill was a jerk. And besides, your loyalty toward me as a friend should come first.”

“I am a very loyal friend,” I retorted, feeling defensive.

“Actions speak louder than words!”

“Look!” I shouted. “There's no comparison between my feelings for you and my feelings for Bill. You're a close friend, and he's just a casual acquaintance, at best.”

“You and Bill weren't laughing about me?” Jade asked suspiciously.

“Of course not. I'm not going to let anybody put you down. Stop tripping.”

Jade sighed and leaned against the refrigerator. “I'm leaving Yoshi.”

I turned the kettle off. “You're leaving Yoshi? Wait a minute, how did we make that transition?”

“I'm not in love with Yoshi and I haven't been for a long time,” Jade lamented as we sat in the living room nursing glasses of wine. I'd decided that we needed to drink something stronger than tea.

“What's love got to do with it?” I scowled, stretching out in my leather recliner across from Jade on the sofa. “We're talking about a man worth five million bucks,” I paused. “I hate to sound like a stereotypical sista. But that kinda money brings out the sista in me. And, don't forget, you've been married for upteen years.”

“Sometimes, I wish I
could
forget.”

“That moon spoon June shit only lasts for a few years at best,” I scoffed. “I mean, is he beating you or what?” I sipped my wine thoughtfully.

“No, nothing like that.” Jade frowned. “It's just that Yoshi's always been critical. He's not a joyful person, even with all his money. Yoshi almost never smiles.”

“You should be smiling enough for both of you,” I said, freshening our drinks. “Is there somebody else?”

“No,” Jade answered flatly. “I don't think Yoshi's having an affair. He's too much of a workaholic.”

“What about you?” I asked. “Are your eyes wandering?”

Jade sipped her wine thoughtfully and cleared her throat. “Well, I've sort of met someone else.”

“Sort of met someone else,” I repeated, rolling my eyes. “Are you hugged up with somebody or not?”

“No, not really. It's just an attraction. I mean, I haven't done anything about it yet.”

“Yet?”

“I'm not even sure it's mutual. Although I feel it is.” Jade looked soulfully into my eyes. “Nothing may ever come of it. It's just reminded me that it can still happen, that's all.” She let her head sink back and stretched her arms along the top of the sofa.

“Of course it can still happen,” I said. “You're not even forty yet. It's not like you're past fifty.”

Jade sat upright. “Age is not the issue. It's just that I put my passion into my belly dance and kids and I thought that was enough. That I could get by.” Her voice trailed off.

I thought about the song “We Got By” that Al Jarreau sang. It was one of my all-time favorites. But when Jarreau sang about getting by, about her bringing the beans and him bringing the wine, he wasn't talking about what Jade was talking about. Jarreau was talking about getting by without money. Jade was talking about getting by without passion. They were entirely different matters.

“But I couldn't really get by,” Jade continued. “I mean, I almost could until this new musician began performing at Arabian Nights,” she added softly.

“Arabian Nights, it sounds so romantic,” I murmured after a sip of wine.

Jade's eyes lighted up. “When I dance to this guy's music, it's like making love with my soul mate.”

“That's beautiful,” I said with a sigh. “Stick to that fantasy. Because reality would probably only disappoint you. I mean, what else do you know about this guy?”

“I don't need to know anything else about him,” Jade protested. “We're in harmony.”

I drank a swallow of my wine. “Yeah, but is harmony worth throwing everything away for? I don't think so. Just continue to enjoy things the way they are,” I suggested. “Don't rock the houseboat.”

“I
am
going to rock the houseboat!” Jade said, jumping up. “This marriage is making me lose faith in myself. The only thing we have in common is our kids. I feel totally devalued and unappreciated,” she moaned. “Yoshi thrives on making me look stupid. Last month at a party, he made this big deal in front of people because I thought Brut was a brand of champagne. I didn't realize it meant ‘very dry.'”

“Don't feel bad, I just recently learned that myself. I never bought champagnes that much. I just graduated from Korbel to Chandon.”

“Yoshi claims that his friends aren't interested in what I have to say. But he doesn't communicate, he lectures. I'm sick of it and so are my sons!” Jade shouted tearfully.

“I understand,” I conceded. “I mean, you shouldn't have to be miserable. But maybe you should just pamper yourself. You could take a spa vacation.”

“A spa vacation is not a magic bullet, Dee Dee. I've been there, done that and got the T-shirt.”

“Well, some women would take Yukihiro Yoshimuri for everything he's got in an effort to find a magic bullet,” I pointed out.

“I want more than what Yoshi's
got
and it doesn't have to do with money.” Jade sighed. “It has to do with feelings, Dee Dee. Don't you do feelings?” She looked me in the eye.

I swallowed. I felt uncomfortable, like I could break down and cry myself. I felt like maybe something was wrong with me all of a sudden. I considered myself a warm, feeling person. I knew I wasn't perfect. I had my fears and insecurities, but didn't everybody? I might not be the deepest person in the world, but I didn't consider myself shallow, either. I didn't appreciate Jade capping on me, but I wanted to respond to her without sounding defensive.

“Yeah, I do do feelings,” I answered. “But I'm no expert. Maybe I'm still in kindergarten.”

“We were probably better in touch with our feelings when we
were
back in kindergarten,” Jade suggested.

“You got a point,” I agreed. “Maybe that's when we
were
experts.”

“I'm sorry, Dee Dee. I didn't mean to be so hard on you. I just felt frustrated.”

“You were just trying to make it real. I understand. We're cool.”

Jade paused and sat back down on the couch. “I just want the artist I fell in love with.” She sighed. “Not the working stiff who tells our sons that the nail that sticks out is the one that gets pounded down.”

“Who would believe you met Yoshi at an artists' colony?” I marveled.

“Yeah, he was a painter and I was a poet. It seems like another lifetime,” Jade added with a faraway gaze. “The first week we were there we went for a walk in the woods and we got lost. I really was frantic, because soon it would be dark and cold and I wasn't sure what wild animals were around.” She hugged her knees. “I directed Yoshi in circles, getting scratched by bushes and splashed by mud. Finally, Yoshi said, ‘Don't worry, you're with a Buddhist.' I was so impressed with his calmness.” Jade exhaled, sinking against my plump leather sofa. “I had nothing left to lose, so I just put my faith in his ability to lead us back to the trail. That was hard because all my life I'd rebelled against the sexism in my family and my culture. But there was something gentle about the way Yoshi took charge. And I told myself, if he finds the way back, I'll marry him, if he'll have me. Anyway, Yoshi led me back to where we originally got lost and we discovered that we hadn't gone far enough to make the turn. We were exhausted and relieved. We've been together ever since.”

“It's so romantic.”

Jade frowned and sipped her wine. “But we've come to the end of our road now. I hardly write poems anymore and Yoshi hasn't painted in years. Our tantric lovemaking is just a memory.”

“I'm sorry that I tried to talk you into settling,” I conceded. “Don't tolerate anything less than harmony.”

ten

I resigned myself to never hearing from Skylar. I was determined not to contact him. My mother's words rang in my ears: “If a man is interested, he'll let you know.” I might never hear from any eligible man again, I told myself. It was possible that I might spend the rest of my life as a cat owner/auntie/godmother/friend who gave to the needy, fought fat and helped preserve the blues. It wasn't a bad fate. I had a lot to be thankful for, I reassured myself as I wrapped up another shift in the control room.

I paused at Freddy's desk on my way out as usual.

“Why is it black folks suddenly become so wise when they get old?” Freddy asked, reaching for a slice of pizza. I was so tempted to join him in devouring the thick, juicy slices, but I wasn't really hungry. Still, hunger and wanting to eat could be two different things.

“Freddy, you must be a mind reader. I was just thinking about my old age, just a minute ago.”

“Well, to be considered wise all you have to do is live long, do little and say even less,” Freddy advised solemnly.

“I might be able to manage that.” I nodded, leaning against the wall. “My problem is what to do in the meantime.”

“In the meantime, you best grab you a piece of this pizza.” Freddy pointed. “You don't wanna be saying, ‘If I had my life to live over, I wouldn't have let that pizza get cold,' do you?”

“No thanks,” I answered, backing away. “I try to only eat when I'm hungry. I'm in between sizes now.”

Freddy winked. “The hell with being in between sizes, you need to be in between two sheets. Girl, you need some sugar in your bowl.”

“Don't go there,” I warned. “Don't
even
tell me what I need.”

“Dee Dee, I'm just talking to you as a friend. I just want you to have a reason to glow.”

“You can't just reach out and find Mr. Right,” I snapped. I didn't want Freddy feeling sorry for me like I was a spinster closing up the library.

“Well, maybe you need to settle for Mr.
All
Right, then,” Freddy suggested.

I tensed up. I couldn't bring myself to say, it wasn't like Mr. All Right is busting my door down, either. I felt frustrated. I didn't expect to cause whiplash at age forty-one. I would settle for turning just one head, provided it was the right one.

“Dee Dee, there is nothing wrong with your body.” Freddy's soothing tone interrupted my thoughts. “You was never fat, you was just what they call healthy.”

“I'm not trying to be skinny,” I said, as though thinness were within my reach. “My main goal is to be fit. I just want to feel good in my body.”

“Somebody else could feel good in your body, too,” Freddy teased.

“Freddy, you're creating a hostile work environment. It could be considered sexual harassment,” I added half jokingly.

Freddy looked skeptical. “Anyway, like I was saying, there's no such thing as a dumb, old, black person in a rocking chair,” he said, chomping on his pizza.

I swallowed my saliva. My mouth watered for the tangy sensation that Freddy was savoring. But I reminded myself that I wasn't really hungry. “It's true,” I agreed, glad to have the subject changed. “I just saw this great movie called
Lone Star
. It had a wise old sista in it, rockin' with purpose and the sheriff hangin' on her every word.”

“Y'all can be dumb as doorknobs in y'all's heyday, too,” Freddy marveled. “But don't let y'all get old,” he added, wiping tomato sauce from the corner of his mouth. “'Cause then evahbody'll think y'all Solomon.”