Waiting to Exhale (17 page)

I must have looked like a fool to him. But I didn't know what to say. Lionel just kept right on talking, while I looked out the window at the mountains. I was thinking about my new job. Not the job itself but the opportunities that lay ahead. At my interview, I was straightforward and told them I was also interested in producing, that I didn't want to stay in publicity forever. They assured me that their policy was to promote from within whenever possible, and since I knew I was good at what I did, I wasn't worried. I had already proved myself at the gas company. I had produced quite a few public service announcements and instructional films, but I'd reached my peak as far as promotions went. I didn't like the idea of making less money, but I knew television stations didn't pay much unless you were in front of the camera. It just meant I was going to have to work my ass off and, in the meantime, cash in some of my bonds and CDs to cover my mortgage and take care of Mama.

"Am I boring you?" I heard him ask.

"No, Lionel. I'm sorry, I guess I'm just a little tired. I'm not used to getting up this early."

"I am," he said. "I usually run about six every morning."

"So that's how you manage to stay in such great shape, huh?"

"That's one reason," he said, and winked at me. He pulled my ashtray out, and the smell of old ashes filled the air. "You mind if I smoke a joint?"

"Not in the car. Please. I'm allergic to it," I said, lying. "Why don't you pull over?"

"I can wait," he said. "I'm allergic to cigarette smoke myself," he said, and pushed the ashtray back in. "What kind of music you got in that box?"

I picked up the cassette case and started going through it. He didn't want to hear Phyllis Hyman or Simply Red or Anita Baker or Tracy Chapman or The Whispers or Stevie Wonder or Michael Jackson, and had never heard of Julia Fordham, and when I finally said Tchaikovsky, he laughed.

"Here," I said, putting the case between us. "Why don't you pick out something you like."

"No. Keep going."

"Tell me what you want to hear."

"You got any Kenny G?"

"Yes," I said, and took it out and pushed the tape in. I turned it up loud enough so that if he said something, I wouldn't hear his ass. Then I decided the only way to ensure this was to pretend like I was asleep. Which I did. Apparently I dozed off for a few minutes, because when I felt the car stop, it startled me. We were at a gas station.

"How much does it take to fill up your tank?" he asked.

"About fifteen dollars."

"We're only on half, but we don't wanna get out in the middle of nowhere and can't find a gas station."

I handed him a twenty-dollar bill. Lionel got out and put the gas in, and as I watched him clean the front window, steam was coming out of his nostrils. He wasn't as handsome as I'd thought he was. As a matter of fact, he looked sort of like a horse. I was wondering how many more miles we had to go, so I looked at the map. We were almost in Trinidad, which meant we still had close to eight hundred left.

It took seven dollars and thirty cents to fill up the tank, but when Lionel got back in the car, he didn't give me my change. "You want me to drive yet?" I asked.

"No. You just sit back and relax."

By the time we reached New Mexico's border, I was starving and needed a cigarette bad. We stopped in a little town called Springer, and Lionel pulled over to the side of the road, stood in what was left of the snow, and smoked his joint. I smoked my cigarette. We walked to a diner, and I ordered a tuna fish sandwich. He ordered a hamburger and fries and a strawberry milk shake. I gave him a funny look. "I still eat a hamburger every once in a while," he said. Once we'd finished, he said he was still hungry and ordered a slice of apple pie. When we got back outside, I insisted on taking the wheel, because I didn't know how stoned he was and didn't want to find out.

By the time we got to Santa Fe, the weather had changed dramatically. Everything was green. I wanted to stop, since I'd never been anywhere near here and I knew Santa Fe was known as a haven for artists. I'd never seen a real adobe, either, and was interested in buying some turquoise jewelry. But Lionel didn't want to stop. "Why not?" I asked him.

"It's nothing but a tourist trap. They put everything on the streets so you'll spend all your money, and they jack the prices up sky-high."

"So what?" I said.

He seemed agitated. "I don't like stopping and starting when I'm on the highway, that's all. And besides, I thought you were in a big hurry to get to Phoenix."

"I am, and you're right," I said. "The sooner we get there, the better." He sort of smiled, and I wanted to push him out of the goddamn car.

It was getting dark by the time we made it to Gallup, and I was tired of driving. I ran out of things to talk about with Lionel. To break up the monotony, I suggested we spend the night at a motel.

"We're less than five hours from Phoenix. I'm not tired, and I can take over," he said.

"Lionel, we've been on the road for twelve hours. I could really use a shower, and I would love to brush my teeth and lie down for a while."

"I hear you," he said.

"I'll get us separate rooms."

"Come on, Savannah. Why you wanna throw your money away like that? I don't bite," he said, and smiled.

We drove a few more miles, and I turned off at the exit when I saw a Great Western. I got two rooms anyway. Poor Yasmine-I had almost forgotten about her-but then again, I'd drugged the cat so she could tolerate being caged. I brought her in the room and got a few toiletries and a change of clothes out of the trunk. Lionel didn't take anything up to his room. He was pouting.

When I opened the door, I sat Yasmine down on the floor. She was awake now, so I let her out and gave her some food I'd put in a Baggie. I had barely sat down, when Lionel knocked on the door. I opened it. "I'm sorry if I was a pain in the ass," he said.

"You weren't a pain, Lionel. I think we're both just tired."

"I'm not all that tired," he said, and smiled at me. For some reason, now he looked as tempting as he did on New Year's Eve. "Don't you need somebody to keep you warm?" he asked.

"I brought my pajamas."

"I think I feel better than pajamas," he said.

I thought for a minute. Part of my fantasy was to get myself a little piece out here on the road. And hell, I hadn't had any in five months, and even though Lionel had gotten on my nerves, maybe he communicated better in bed. I didn't have to be in love with the man to do this, and my poor body'd probably be grateful to get fed, since it'd been on such a starvation diet. I can block his bullshit out of my mind, because I've done it before. I should go ahead and get me some. If I'm lucky, I may never see this man again after tomorrow. "Come on in," I said, and turned on the television. "I need to take a shower. I feel yucky."

"Take your time," he said.

So I took one. When I came out, he was lying on the bed, butt naked. Hair was everywhere, but it couldn't hide the beauty of this man's body. I wanted to say, "Damn, Lionel," but instead I dropped the towel I had draped around me to the floor. If this was going to be a fantasy, I wanted to start it on the right note.

"You want to take one too, don't you?" I said, as he looked up at me. I swear I wished I had big luscious breasts, because when h
e g
ot up and walked toward me, he kissed them, and his entire lips covered one. I felt my body heat up, just that quick.

"I'll be right out," he said.

I fell on the bed and, through the open door, looked at his steamy silhouette in the mirror, feeling my body's growing excitement. Thank God I didn't pack away my diaphragm, I thought. When the water in the shower stopped, he came out and went over to the sink and picked up my toothbrush. Was he crazy? I was about to say something, but I swear, I couldn't. I just watched him squeeze the little tube of toothpaste and then commence to brushing.

By the time he finished, I had dried up. I was trying to force myself to feel lustful again, because I wanted to do this, I needed to do this, but when he put his pants back on and then his jacket and said he'd be right back, it was all over for me. I didn't even have to ask where he was going.

I could smell the reefer on his breath when he came back. He took his jacket and pants off and threw them on a chair, then came over to the bed and got on top of me. His hands were ice cold, but he was kissing me so hard I couldn't say anything. The next thing I knew, I felt this big thick stick trying to force its way inside me, but I couldn't help him out. As a matter of fact, the shit hurt. "Lionel, did you bring a condom?"

"I've got it on," he said.

I felt down there just to make sure. When did he put the shit on? I wondered. "Well, you can slow down. We've got all night."

"I'm just excited. I've been thinking about what I'd do to you ever since New Year's, and I guess I'm just a little anxious, but I'll slow down, baby."

I might as well have been talking to myself, because when he pulled away, I thought he was going to take it from the top, but instead he put his face between my legs and started licking and chewing like a wild animal. I guess he thought I was aroused because of the way I was grabbing onto the headboard, and all the twisting and wiggling I was doing, but I was scared he was going to bite my clitoris off-if and when he found it. I wanted to get this shit over with before I was raw, so I took my hands and put them firmly o n h is head and pushed it away. Then I moaned. I gripped him by the shoulders, pulled him up on top of me, and, in an exasperated voice, yelled, "Please, put it in!"

"I'm on my way, baby," he said, and jabbed me worse than he had the first time. I held my breath until I felt him sink into a soft, warm place. He went to work, and during this whole ordeal, not once did he kiss me. When I finally looked up at his face, he was gazing at something on the wall with unbelievable intensity, and all of a sudden his face became monstrous and contorted, and the next thing I know, he started growling like a bear. Really, fucking growling. "Grrrrrrrrrrr," he said, and when I looked at him, he was gritting his teeth and his eyes looked like red lasers. "Grrrrrrrrrrr," he said again, and I thought his penis was going to come out through my chest. I was about to push him off, but I was scared, and he did it again, even louder and more piercing this time. "Grrrrrrrrrrr," he screeched, and then, thank God, collapsed. I lay there as still as I possibly could, because I was terrified. I didn't know what I was sleeping with: a man or a beast. Shit. I could've handled this highway by myself and done without this detour of the goddamn zoo.

Lionel rolled over and sighed. I was dripping with his sweat, but my forehead and armpits were dry. "That was good," he said. "And I want some more before the night is over."

I thought I would gag. "That felt like it might last me awhile," I said.

"No no no no no," he said, grinning triumphantly, and turned toward me to kiss my shoulder. "It gets better."

When I heard him snoring, I thought about putting my clothes on, grabbing Yasmine, running out of this damn room, and leaving his b[ack ass right here. I tried to go to sleep, but I couldn't. So I dragged the phone into the bathroom, closed the door, and called Sheila and cussed her ass out. "Thanks a lot for introducing me to this asshole," I said, after I told her what had happened. She apologized between outbursts of laughter. I started cracking up too. She wanted to tell me all about their new van, but I was tired and told her to tell me another time. I got back in bed. I was not going through this shit again and wanted to be up and ready to leave before he opened his eyes. Luckily, God was on my side, because I had alread y s howered and dressed and was taking two Advils when he sat up in bed the next morning.

"Savannah?"

"Good morning," I said.

"What you doing?"

"I'm getting ready to go downstairs to the coffee shop to get us something to eat."

"Don't they have room service here?" he asked.

"I don't know, but I need to take Yasmine out for some air anyway. By the time you shower and get dressed, I'll be back." Before he had a chance to respond, I was already out the door.

I drove.

When we got to Flagstaff, I called Bernie. She wasn't home. I left a message: "You will not even be meeting Lionel, girl. He is one weird motherfucker. An impostor from the word go. I'm taking his ass to a motel. There's no way I'm spending another night with this reptile. See you later." I was also glad I didn't have to start working for almost two weeks. Lord knows, I'd need to chill out after this ordeal.

When we passed the sign that said Sedona was however many miles, Lionel said, "You wanna check it out?"

"No," I said.

"Why not?"

"It's a detour, Lionel, and second of all, my girlfriend's waiting for me."

"Girlfriend?"

"Yeah, didn't I tell you I was staying with a girlfriend when I got here?"

"No, you didn't."

"Well, that's the plan. I'll put you up in a motel for tonight, and we can check to see how much it costs to fly you back tomorrow, just like I promised."

"I was hoping to spend some more time with you, Savannah. I'm enjoying your company. Immensely."