I Left My Back Door Open (22 page)

“I knew I felt a butt coming on.”

“It's not like I
can't
get into it, when I'm in a certain mood,” Jade confided.

“Yeah, on a slow night, I could see how a hot spanking could put a little spice into your marriage. Well, whatever floats your boat.”

“It has allowed Yoshi to release a lot of pent-up energy,” Jade said.

“I can imagine.”

“And I have to admit that it is a turn-on for me when we're in the middle of making love and Yoshi's naked butt is up in the air and I give it a few sound slaps and …”

“He pumps it good, like you wish he would?” I added, finishing Jade's sentence.

“Yes, definitely,” she answered with a mischievous smile. “He pumps it real good.”

“Damn, Jade, I'll never look at Yoshi the same way again.”

“Remember, he would rather die than have you know,” she cautioned. She held Langston playfully in the air.

“I won't breathe a word,” I promised, pressing my index finger against my lips. “But you know I'll be really temped to say, ‘Yoshi, you better be a good boy or else you're gonna get a spanking.'”

fifteen

“My phone line is hot. 'Cause it's Big Mama Dot. What can I do for you?”

“Play me some blues that I can use while I cook my pot of beans. But, before you do that, lemme say a few words. All this talk 'bout folks being depressed ain't nothin but the blues.”

“Right, Big Mama Dot. They just in a lonesome mood, huh?”

“The blues is just a woman gone bad. You don't need no Krozac.”

“Prozac.”

“None of that—you don't even need St. Jim's Wort.”

“St. John's Wort.”

“Whatever they call that mess. It's just like a snakebite. You need a serum, and what's the serum made outta?”

“Snake venom.”

“That's right. The good news is, the blues can cure the blues.”

“You're speakin' the truth, Ruth. And all of you who keep the blues alive. I love it when y'all call. 'Cause otherwise I'd be sittin' up in here lonely as the Maytag repairman.”

“Dee Dee, I ain't think the day would come when I would say this. But you'd be surprised what you can do with frozen black-eyed peas.”

“Get outta town! I know you didn't say
frozen
black-eyed peas.”

“I know you've seen 'em in the store.”

“If I have, I haven't paid them any attention.”

“You better be careful putting down a food on the air. You don't want them frozen black-eyed peas folks coming after you.”

“Okay, I'm giving them a forum. So, here's your chance to change some minds.”

“Okay, you cut up some onion and garlic and green pepper.”

“Green pepper?”

“Yeah, and you sauté everything in a little oil.”

“You heard her, a
little
oil. That's right, we're watching our cholesterol.”

“Yeah, I can't eat the way I used to. I never thought the day would come when I would cook black-eyed peas without any meat in 'em.”

“Black-eyed peas with no fatback or salt pork! Dang! Well, the truth be told, Big Mama Dot, I've had to make some changes myself.”

“I know you've changed. You say you stay over on the North Side now.”

“Yeah, but I get around. So, back to your beans with no meat in 'em.”

“I'll be honest with you. Come New Year's, I'm still gonna use dry beans and sneak a piece of salt pork or fatback in 'em.”

“Yeah, you don't wanna mess with tradition.”

“I need all the good luck I can get, chile. Anyway, with the frozen beans, instead of water, I use chicken broth. I don't even put meat in my greens no more. I just use chicken broth.”

“Get outta Dodge! Are you serious?”

“I'm serious as the heart attack I'm trying to keep from having.”

“I hear you. Okay, I hope I'm back in good with the frozen food people now. You've won me over. I'm gonna send you a T-shirt. And next time I'm at the grocery store, I'll pick up some frozen black-eyed peas, and do 'em just like you said.”

“Don't forget the chicken broth. It comes in the big boxes now.”

“Oh, maybe the chicken broth people'll send me a case.”

“Put on Alberta Hunter, baby, ‘Remember My Name.'”

“I won't forget.”

“…And we opened the set with the legendary Katie Webster, doing ‘Too Much Sugar for a Dime.' That was by special request from Amy, who's pissed because her boyfriend left her for a man.”

“I've got a caller now. Caller, you're on the air.”

“Hi, Dee Dee. I'm a little nervous.”

“That's okay, just take your time.”

“I'm a first-time caller … but a long-time listener.”

“Glad to hear from you.”

“My name is Jim. I love your show.”

“Thanks, Jim, welcome to the program.”

“You can probably tell by my voice. I'm a white boy,” the caller said timidly.

“You can't always tell one hundred percent. Anyway, I wasn't trippin' on it. You know I have a lot of white listeners calling the program.”

“You still might ask yourself, what does a white boy really know about the blues?”

“I wasn't asking myself anything. Plenty of white people follow the blues. Jim, what would you like to hear?”

“Do you know what black people can teach white people?”

“What?”

“Black people can teach white people how to have a free spirit. That's what black people can teach white people.”

“Y'all heard it here first.”

“When black people sing, don't tell me that they don't sing from the depths of their souls,” Jim said in a shaky voice.

“Okay.”

“You know what white people do? Opera. And that ain't it.”

“You said it, I didn't.”

“All I know is that I was raised to be so uptight.”

“Some black people were raised to be uptight, too, Jim. Be careful generalizing.”

“I don't know, maybe. I only know my experience, understand that. I only know what it is to be me.”

“That's true.”

“I'm just speaking from my heart, okay?” Jim said, his voice seemingly choked with emotion.

“Okay.”

“I look at our planet and our country and what I see is separation and division. Is that not true?”

“Sometimes.”

“At least that's the appearance. But in the depths of our souls, color means nothing.”

“I hear you.”

“At the core of our beings, color means nothing.”

“That's true.”

“All we all want is to be loved and to give love. That's all we all want, black or white, gay or straight, Jew or gentile. That's all we all want.”

“I hear you, Jim.”

“Why can't we be free to live from our souls? And why should color be a factor?”

“You tell me, Jim.”

“I spent most of my life doing what I was supposed to do, you know, conforming to what others thought I should be.”

“I think I know what you're saying.”

“And you know what it brought me?”

“What?”

“Unhappiness, that's what it brought me, unhappiness.”

“Jim, I feel your pain. What can I play for you?”

“Thanks. Could you play that woman who sings about leaving her back door open all night long? I don't remember her name or what it's called. I just know that she left her back door open all night long.”

“Memphis Minnie McCoy, the Hoo Doo Lady herself, doing the ‘Moanin' Blues.'”

“That's it. She sings that song with such feeling. She sings from the core of her being. She's in pain, but she's still hopeful that her man will come walking through that door. I'm in pain, too, but I'm still hopeful after all these years that we can heal as a nation. I'm still hopeful that the entire planet can be transformed.”

“Jim, thanks for calling. Stay true and stay blue.”

On Friday night, Skylar moved in slow motion toward my sofa while I lighted various candles. He'd arranged a sleepover for his daughter so that we didn't have to make an early evening of it. I knew what he had in mind. I had the same thing in mind. It was our sixth date, and we'd already discussed protection. I even had condoms in case Skylar had forgotten them. I was ready to end my long, dry season. I popped my fingers. The Isley Brothers were playing on the box.

Anything other than candlelight would appear harsh, I thought as I stifled a yawn. This was bad, I told myself. This was really bad. Mexican food had been a mistake—or maybe it was the margaritas, I thought, bleary-eyed. I felt tired and Skylar looked tired. My first chance in many moons to dance in the sheets, and I felt as heavy as the lard they'd put in the refried beans. But I didn't care how lethargic I felt, I had to pull it off. We had the entire night to ourselves. Who knew when we'd have another chance like this? We couldn't afford to blow it, no matter how tired we were. Overnight child care was too precious to waste.

I joined Skylar on the couch and we looked at each other like a couple on their wedding night who knew they had to do it, but weren't sure they could pull it off.

I put my lips within kissing distance of Skylar's. After a moment, we wrapped our arms around each other, partly for moral support. The kisses were comfortable—sweet, yet sexy, too. But my closed eyes couldn't mask my fatigue. Our lips stayed smashed into each other, not moving until Skylar pulled away and yawned. And before I could admonish him for it, I yawned, too.

Skylar asked out of the blue, “Do you watch
Politically Incorrect
?”

Don't tell me he wants to watch TV
, I said to myself.
Don't tell me he'd rather watch a television program than be with me
.

“Yeah, sometimes.” I yawned again.

Skylar glanced at his watch. “It's almost about to come on.”

“I thought we could do something a little more romantic.”

“I'm kinda tired.” Skylar sighed. “I'm sorry I suggested Mexican food. I didn't realize that it was so heavy this late at night.”

“Yeah,” I agreed.

“I've been running since early this morning,” he continued. “I had to consult with clients, do my usual stuff with Brianna and pack all of her stuff for her sleepover and walk her over there. Fridays are hectic enough as it is, and those margaritas have a way of sneaking up on you.”

“Yeah, and alcohol is a depressant.”

“Maybe we should just take the pressure off ourselves. What do you say we take off all of our clothes and crawl into bed together.” Skylar winked.

I smiled. It sounded sexy and sweet at the same time. “Sounds good to me. I like to cuddle.”

For once, I felt relieved to be middle-aged. It was so grown-up to accept that you were too tired to perform, but not too fatigued to experience the delicious closeness of each other's bodies. And wise enough to have a condom close by, just in case.

I turned away from Skylar and undressed quickly in the dim light. I felt a little self-conscious about him seeing my voluptuous body, even though he had assured me that he didn't want a stick. He said he preferred women with meat on their bones. But I still felt a little bit shy. After all, it was our first time being naked together.

Skylar and I slipped into bed and lightly touched our nude bodies together in the candlelight. I felt his rubbery tootsie roll bounce against my thigh, and it breathed life into my tired body. I gathered him close to me and we kissed and rocked in each other's arms. I stroked his firm back. He nibbled my ear and I sighed. I knew Skylar was tired and I didn't want to pressure him. But when I felt his tongue inside my ear, my whole body tingled and I moaned for more. And Skylar gave it to me, licking my neck, sucking my breasts and finally rubbing his hard penis up and down my thighs.

“Do you wanna be on top?” Skylar whispered.

“Sure.” I nodded.

“I better get the rubber.”

I found energy that I didn't know I had. I sucked Skylar's nipples and stroked his chest and caressed his penis. Then I gave his hard joystick a playful tug before slipping the condom on it. I rubbed Skylar's penis against my clitoris, before sliding it into my wet, juicy vagina.

Skylar's fingers played with my clitoris while I moved up and down and all around.

“Dee Dee, you feel too beautiful for words!” Skylar moaned. “You feel too beautiful for words.”

Then shut up, I was almost tempted to tease. But instead, I basked in the glow of Skylar's praise. It wasn't my first rodeo. I'd been out of the saddle for a long time, but it felt great to be back.

sixteen

Labor Day meant the winding down of summer, although today it was hotter than July. After checking out my brother and his family, I ended up at a barbecue with Sharon and T at Sharon's aunt's house. I could've invited Skylar, but I didn't want to flaunt my heterosexual privelege. After all, Sharon didn't feel comfortable bringing Michelle to family gatherings yet. She'd recently come out to her aunt and mother and sister. They'd all had similar responses. They loved the sinner, but hated the sin. I felt like it was more important to show my support for Sharon by hanging out with her around her family than put Skylar in everyone's face.

Sharon and I huddled alone in the family room of the finished basement, eating from plates of food on snack trays.

“I don't know how to even put this,” Sharon said, sucking on a chicken wing. “But anyway, when I came out to you, you took it almost okay.”

“It was just a surprise at first,” I said, defending myself through a mouthful of potato salad. “It wasn't like a new hairstyle. Besides, I think I've been reasonably supportive after I got over the initial shock.”

“I guess that's what I'm saying. You didn't say, ‘You go, girl,' and on the other hand you didn't say, ‘Go to hell.'”