The Cheating Curve (19 page)

“Lying by omission is still lying.” Sean’s voice cracked. He blinked back the tears.

“I don’t know what the fuck has gotten into you lately, but—”

“No, the question is
who
the fuck has gotten into you lately, Lang, huh?” Sean asked, grabbing her by the throat and lifting her off the couch.

“Sean!” Lang gagged as she feebly tried to claw his hands from around her neck.

“I swear to God I could kill you,” he said just before releasing her.

Lang coughed.

“Was he worth it?”

Lang shook her head, sobbing hysterically. She couldn’t believe what was happening.

“How long have you been seeing him?”

“Not long,” Lang said between gasps. “I swear. It’s over. I—I—I made a mistake.”

“A mistake?” Sean laughed.

“I’m sorry, Sean. I’m so sorry. I can’t lose you. You can’t leave me. We can get through this.”

“It’s too late, Langston. You lost me the minute you opened yourself up to him.”

Sean grabbed his new trench coat off the sofa. “I’ll be back later tonight, and I want you out of this house, or as God is my witness, Langston, I swear I might actually kill you.”

“Sean, please…”

“Merry fuckin’ Christmas, Langston,” Sean said and slammed the door.

A
minah woke up Christmas morning next to a snoring, puffy-eyed Langston. She’d never in her whole life witnessed any human being—colicky babies included—cry as much as Langston had the night before. Lang had sobbed over the phone all the way to the Ritz, on the parking ticket stub the valet had handed her in front of the luxury hotel, and on a shared elevator ride with a couple of nondescript European tourists.

She’d collapsed into Aminah’s arms as soon as she’d opened the door and bawled some more on her shoulder.

Aminah never thought to utter an
I told you so
. Instead she carefully guided Langston over to the sofa and slowly undressed her.

Lang allowed her head to fall backward on the couch after Aminah had taken off her ski jacket. Her body lay limp as Aminah easily slid off her sneakers and socks, though she seemed to stiffen a bit as Aminah struggled to raise her hips and pull down her cashmere sweatpants and cotton thong.

Lang made no attempt to help Aminah pull the long-sleeved thermal shirt over her head or her arms through the armholes. Aminah let out a soft grunt when she finally got the top completely off and wasn’t the least bit surprised to find Lang’s perky nipples saluting her braless.

Aminah thought that at that particular moment her usually strikingly attractive girlfriend—with her toned, naked brown body sort of slouched down on the coach with her head leaned all the way back and her legs spread somewhere between slight and wide—favored a chic model strung out on heroine.

Aminah shook her head in pity as she quickly slid out of her own bathrobe and filled the shower stall with blistering hot water. She adjusted the temperature to a notch above tepid before leading Lang into the makeshift, glass-enclosed sauna.

“Breathe,” Aminah said as she stood naked holding up Lang under the steady stream of warm water. “You’re holding your breath. I need you to release it. Let it out. Let it go, Lang.”

Lang lifted her head to face the showerhead and let out the air she’d been unconsciously constricting. It wasn’t exactly a deep, cleansing breath, but at least now she was aware of her breathing—sort of.

“You’re gonna be okay,” Aminah said before kissing Lang on the forehead and tenderly bathing her body.

Lang wailed as Aminah washed. She wanted to fold up into the fetal position in the corner of the stall, but Aminah wouldn’t let her. “Let it out, baby,” Aminah said. “Let it all out. You can cry all you want, Lang, but I won’t let you fall.”

Aminah toweled her dry.

Lang whimpered.

Aminah oiled her down, dressed her for bed, and forced her to sip chamomile tea.

Langston finally fell asleep with a headache worthy of ten Percocets. She made due with three extra-strength Advils.

In the morning Aminah felt Lang’s forehead, worried that she’d cried herself sick the night before. She was cool. Relieved, Aminah jotted a quick note, asking Lang to call her when she woke up, along with instructions for her to order some herbal tea bags as well as cucumber slices and to alternate between the two to reduce the puffiness around her eyes. She hated to leave her all alone on Christmas, but, well, it was Christmas, and she wasn’t denying her children for anyone.

Aminah belted her crimson blouson dress, admiring how the red satin ribbon accentuated her waistline while the V-neck did the same for her cleavage. She inspected her eyelashes for Great Lash Mascara clumps. None. Checked the edges of her lips for any excess M•A•C Lipgelée goo. Negative. She nodded approvingly at her reflection.

Before exiting the sumptuous suite that had served as her plush little safe haven, Aminah requested the concierge to send a bellhop for all her bags, the valet to bring around her Range Rover, informed the front desk that while she wouldn’t be returning, her guest would be staying indefinitely, and prepaid Lang’s room and incidentals for the week. The manager cordially applied the same generous discount they’d given Aminah for staying so long and being such a delightful guest.

Aminah smoothed Lang’s hair out of her face and kissed her lovingly on the cheek before exiting the suite.

Inside her truck Aminah loaded the six CDs she’d purchased the day before—Anthony Hamilton’s
Comin’ from Where I’m From,
Usher’s
Confessions,
Maxwell’s
Urban Hang Suite,
Outkast’s
Speakerboxxx/The Love Below
(though she only inserted
The Love Below)
, Maroon 5’s
Songs About Jane,
and Kanye’s
The College Dropout
. Her “Sisters of Strength” rotation—India, Mary, Faith, Lauryn (sometimes alternated with Norah), Kim, and Nina Simone—would always be fingertips away, but Aminah craved some masculine vulnerability.

She found no early morning Christmas traffic surprising her through the Battery Tunnel, nor down the streets of Brooklyn. She enjoyed her solitude on the road almost as much as Anthony Hamilton’s soulful “Since I Seen’t You.” She ended her rousing “Charlene” duet with Mr. Hamilton right before pulling up to the Rogers’ brownstone.

Aminah rang Sean’s doorbell a little after seven
AM
, not the least bit concerned about awakening him. She’d taken care of that a few minutes ago after exiting the tunnel and informing him to expect her shortly.

He answered the door in a wife beater, baggy sweats, and a little bit of sleep in the corner of his right eye.

“Oh, my God, Sean!” Aminah screamed, startling him into full alertness.

“Quiet girl,” Sean playfully reprimanded, pulling her through the front door. “You’ll wake up the whole block.”

Aminah rubbed Sean’s head before he led her to the couch and offered her something to drink.

The eighteen-inch locs he’d been growing for the past ten years were no more. He’d trimmed them over the years when they’d gotten either too long or too heavy to play ball, but after coming home to an empty house last night he felt compelled to cut them completely off.

He believed his hair and his home held energy. So he’d burned sage in every room, grabbed his scissors and then his clippers, and rid his head and his universe of all the old forces, making way for some new, more positive ones.

“Yeah, I got rid of ’em late last night,” he said, slowly dragging his hand across his wavy, low-cut Caesar. “The plan was to cut them off the day my first child was born, but, you know, plans are just that…” He paused. “Plans.”

“I can’t believe it,” Aminah said, shaking her head. “You’ve got a nice-shaped noggin though.”

They both laughed.

“You okay?” Aminah asked, concerned, touching his thigh.

“I’m maintaining, under the circumstances,” Sean responded, placing his hand on top of hers. “But man, Aminah, I was so out of sorts, I think I might actually owe Lang an apology.”

“I seriously doubt that,” Aminah said. “But why would you even think so?”

“Well, without going into too much detail, those last few weeks I was so rough with her—sexually, I mean—that I didn’t recognize myself.”

“Now, Sean, we both know my girl is actually a bit of a masochist,” Aminah said dismissively. “I wouldn’t concern your pretty new head with that.”

“No, this was different. I wasn’t trying to please her or turn her on. I intentionally did my best to physically hurt her and make her feel the pain she caused me. She brought out the monster in me, Aminah. I did things to my wife I never thought I’d do,” Sean admitted, shaking his head before lowering it.

Aminah was silent for a minute. While she certainly understood Sean’s remorse, she wasn’t convinced that Lang still hadn’t managed to derive some sort of pleasure from her husband’s attempt to inflict pain.

“You both did things you wish you hadn’t,” Aminah finally said, lifting his head. “What’s done is done. Besides, you already cut your hair. And I’m sure you’ve burned sage in every room. You’re starting fresh, right? How’s it feel?”

“Feels good to have the place to myself. I know that much,” Sean said, relieved that Aminah hadn’t judged him.

“It doesn’t feel strange at all? Being in this big house all by yourself?”

“Strange, no. Different, yes.”

Aminah nodded.

“Listen, Aminah, about that kiss.”

Aminah put her fingers up to Sean’s mouth to silence him. He pulled them down, folded them, and kissed the back of her hand. She didn’t want to talk about the kiss. She felt guilty enough just thinking about it. The kiss was special. The kiss felt good. Aminah shook her head.

“Aminah, sweet Aminah, I definitely owe you an apology.”

“No, you don’t.”

“Yes, I do,” Sean insisted. “I was vulnerable. You were vulnerable. And I acted on an attraction I’ve had for years. And we’re both married—hell, you’re my wife’s, well, soon-to-be ex-wife’s best friend—and for that I was wrong, and I apologize. I just don’t get down like that.”

“Apology accepted,” Aminah said, smiling at Sean lovingly. “You don’t have to be sorry though. You’ve got great lips.”

“Oh, I didn’t say I was sorry,” Sean clarified, laughing. “I said I apologize. Big damn difference. So we cool?”

“Without a doubt,” Aminah answered, giggling.

“Good. ’Cause I don’t want any awkwardness between us. So what brings you out so early on Christmas morning anyway, young lady?”

“Well, my babies will be getting up soon, and I wouldn’t miss spending this day with them for anything in the world.”

Sean nodded and silently vowed to have a child of his own to spend the holidays with in the next couple years.

“So you came over to check on me first, huh?”

“Actually, I have a gift for you,” Aminah said, reaching inside of her oversize leather Cavalli satchel and handing Sean an elegantly wrapped, palm-sized box.

“You know you shouldn’t’ve gotten me anything,” Sean said, tearing off the giftwrap immediately.

“Clearly.” Aminah laughed. She studied his face, trying to discern his reaction.

“I know it’s not your style, but I thought…I dunno.” She paused. “I thought that maybe, right now more than anything, you could use some time.”

“Nah, it’s incredible,” Sean said, admiring the diamond-encrusted red gold watch that was so obviously intended for Fame. “You sure you want me to have this?”

“Absolutely,” Aminah said assuredly. She wasn’t having the first thought of regret, never mind a second one.

“I don’t know, gorgeous,” Sean said, reluctant to remove the watch from its case. While it didn’t feel quite right to accept a gift that was meant for another man, it didn’t feel like the worst sin in the world to Sean either. He held the box, contemplating whether he should hand it back and just thank Aminah for the thought alone.

“Here, lemme get that for you,” Aminah said, taking out the watch, ignoring Sean’s hesitancy.

“Okay,” Sean said, nodding his head as Aminah fastened the watch on his wrist. The rich red gold complemented his smooth, dark skin. “’Cause I’m changing some things about myself, gorgeous, and one of them is my style. So thank you. Really. This may be just what I need to set things off properly.”

Aminah felt even more confident about giving away Fame’s gift, particularly after seeing it on Sean. She treasured their unique relationship.

“You’re going back to him, aren’t you?” Sean asked, getting used to the weight of the watch on his wrist.

“I know you think he doesn’t deserve me, but—”

“I know I said that a few weeks ago,” Sean interrupted. “But seeing him yesterday with Alia and Amir and without you, it just didn’t look right. Didn’t feel right either. I can’t front.”

“Thank you,” Aminah said, hugging Sean.

“For what?”

“For being you,” she said before getting up from the couch and walking toward the door.

Sean thanked Aminah again for the watch. And as much as he wanted to know how much it had cost her, he resisted. While he definitely wouldn’t wear it to school, especially after lecturing his students about delayed gratification and excessive spending all year long, he couldn’t wait to show it off to his boys when they went out for New Year’s Eve. It would be the first one he’d celebrate without Lang in over six years.

Aminah told Sean to call her if he needed anything, including company. He agreed but told her he needed time with himself more than anything else. They embraced each other lovingly yet platonically before Aminah headed home.

Aminah punched in the security code at her monogrammed gates a little before nine
AM
. It felt good driving up her winding driveway. She grinned at the Christmas décor. She’d given Fame the number of the holiday landscaping company that she’d hired every year, but he insisted on doing it himself.

He’d been spending more time at home since Aminah’d left and had actually enjoyed hanging up all the lights with Alia and Amir. They’d begged him to get the fifteen-foot-tall inflatable snow globe for the front lawn. The humongous, illuminated snowman with the white faux snow swirling all around tickled Aminah to tears. Clearly the children were having their way with their father, mostly because they were the closest he could get to his wife.

Aminah unlocked her front door and disarmed the security system. She panned the front foyer. Fame had remembered to call Daily Blossom. Lush red and deep burgundy floral arrangements filled the living room, dining room, and hallway. Roses, gloriosa lilies, and anthuriums were set about.

Aminah smiled, inhaling the wonderful scent of the fresh bay, eucalyptus, and chinaberry garlands. She blinked back tears.

Home.

She’d missed it.

Before his wife left him, Fame wouldn’t have heard the DEA busting down his front door if he was sleeping. Since then, however, he’d slept much lighter and woke up earlier. He’d actually been staring down at Aminah coming up the driveway from her window seat in their bedroom. He’d observed her from the top of the staircase reaching for the mistletoe above the doorway and covering her mouth in awe of all the flowers.

Fame took one deliberate and quiet step at a time. He hadn’t wanted to disturb Aminah’s moment, but she’d heard him step off the bottom step and quickly spun around.