Waiting to Exhale (34 page)

"I'll pick you up about six-thirty. And hey, we can deal with this. It's really not as much of a problem as you're making it out to be. It ain't about nothin'."

He smiled at me and winked. I knew I was probably being a fool, but no man had asked me to meet his mother in centuries, so I figured maybe he wasn't into it so much and maybe if we got to know each other better-once he saw that I didn't need drugs to enjoy myself -maybe I might be a good influence on him. So I told him yes, I'd love to come over to his house and meet his mother and son.

When we got to my apartment, I let him get back into my bed. We did it for what seemed like hours. Troy didn't act like he wa
s s
atisfied. He was still hard as a rock, but I was tired and had to call it quits. I had to get up and go to work in a matter of hours. I thought he fell asleep right after I did, but when I heard the phone ring and reached over to answer it, that's when I noticed Troy was gone.

"Hi, baby," he said.

"Troy?"

"In the flesh," he said. "How'd you sleep?"

"Good, I guess. When did you leave?"

"About five."

"Are you at home?"

"Yep. Just reading and listening to some Coltrane. You ever listen to Coltrane?"

"No, I don't."

"You should. He's deep, so deep I can't even understand him sometime. How's my baby?"

I didn't quite know how to answer that, but I said, "Fine."

"Good. How are those luscious titties of mine this morning?"

"They're mine, not yours, but they're fine."

"Come on, Robin. Help me go to sleep, baby."

"You haven't been to sleep yet?"

"I felt like reading. You had me so lit up last night, I couldn't get enough of you. But when I saw you were wiped out, I figured I should just go on home and read and let you get your rest."

"Thanks for being so considerate," I said.

"Open your legs for me, baby."

"What?"

"Open those long brown legs for me and touch yourself until you get slippery."

"Troy, I don't like this."

"Come on, baby, do it for me."

"I'm not doing anything. But what I am about to do is hang up this phone if you don't change the tone of your voice and this whole conversation. I mean it."

"Okay, okay. I was just having a little fun. Damn, I'm hard as ice, baby. See what kind of power you have? See what you can do to a grown man over the telephone? Does that tell you what kind of woman you are?"

"Not really."

Then the tone of his voice changed. He got serious all of a sudden. 'Til pick you up at six-thirty. My mother's already made the potato salad. Okay?"

"Okay," I said, but I didn't know what I was getting into.

"What should I do?" I asked Savannah. I spent half the morning telling her what had happened. I was at work.

"I wouldn't go. Especially knowing he's into crack."

"I know. But he said he only does it sometimes."

"What'd you expect him to say? That he's a crackhead? Give me a break, Robin. Stop being so gullible."

"What time is it?"

"A little past eleven."

"I should go ahead and call him and cancel, then, huh?"

"I would, but you do what you want to do. What I want to know is, what's with him wanting you to meet his family, and you haven't even known him a week? I'd be skeptical if for no other reason besides that. What have you done with this man besides fuck him that would make knowing you so deep that he wants to bring you home to his mama already?"

"I know, girl."

"Call him, and call me right back."

"I don't know his number at work."

"Call his mama and get it."

W7hen I called, his mother answered the phone. "Hi there," she said. "We're really looking forward to meeting you. Troy's told me all about you. It isn't very often that he wants me to meet a lady friend, so I figure you must be awful special, which is why I told him I'd have this little barbecue for you. Give you a chance to meet the rest of the family what lives here in Phoenix."

"You mean this barbecue's for me?"

"He didn't tell you? We want to welcome you to the family. Make you feel at home."

"That's very thoughtful of you, ma'am. Could you give me Troy's work number?"

"He didn't go to work today."

"He didn't?"

"I think he's coming down with a cold."

"Well, is he there?"

"Nope."

"You think he'll be back soon?"

"I couldn't tell you, baby. Sick or not, that boy moves at eighty miles an hour. He don't stop too long for nothing. If he comes back anytime soon, you want me to have him call you?"

"Would you? I'm at work. He has the number."

"I sure will. Looking forward to meeting you. This ain't nothing fancy, so don't go getting all dressed up and everything. Just a few of his cousins, his brother and three sisters'll be here. That's all."

"Well, I'm looking forward to meeting all of you too," I said. "I'll see you a little later, ma'am."

"Bye, baby," she said, and hung up.

What the hell was going on here? I didn't know he'd planned a family reunion. Why didn't he let me in on this? What kind of man was I dealing with? Lord, help me.

I didn't feel like going out for lunch today, so I ordered a ham-and- cheese sandwich from the deli downstairs. When the boy delivered it, I reached inside my purse to get my wallet. It wasn't there. I took everything out and piled it on top of my desk. It wasn't there. I was trying to remember the last time I took it out for something. While I sat there going over this in my mind, Marva realized the boy was waiting for his money, so she lent me four dollars. I paid him. Then I tried to think again, where I could've dropped it, or if I forgot and left it at home.

I walked in my front door at ten after six. I looked between the cushions of the couch, the bathroom, under the bed-everywhere in that apartment-and still didn't find my wallet.

Troy showed up at six-thirty on the dot. His eyes were red, and he smelled like wine. He had a growth of hair on his face. He did not look so hot. He bent over to kiss me, and I wanted to gag. "You ready, baby?"

"I'm not going."

"What?"

"I said I'm not going."

"Why not?"

"Because I don't like this."

"You don't like what?"

"How you've done this."

"What are you talking about?"

"Troy. First of all, I don't feel good about any of this. I hardly know you, and you definitely don't know me, or you would've had the common courtesy to ask me if I indulged in drugs, or minded if you did, before you took me over to some crackhead's house, and then on top of that to call me up in the middle of the night talking all vulgar and then giving your mother the impression that we're almost engaged, and here I am thinking I'm going over to your house for a friendly barbecue and come to find out the whole affair's been staged for me."

"What's wrong with that?"

"I don't know you well enough to be meeting your mother and son yet."

"Says who?"

"Says me. This is moving too fast for me, and I can't deal with it."

"Oh, so what am I supposed to tell my mother and son and the rest of my family that's sitting over at my house right now waiting for you?"

"Anything you want to."

"And I'm just supposed to accept this."

"You don't have a choice. You should've asked me first."

"I did ask you."

"No you didn't. You told me."

"Look. Do you know how many women would love for me to bring them to my house to meet my mother?"

"I can about guess."

"I want you to come anyway."

"I said I don't want to, and I'm not going."

"You know what? You black bitches are all alike. First you complain that don't nobody want your asses or know how to treat you
,
and then when a man shows a genuine interest in you, you act simple. And y'all wanna know why we go out with white women."

I guess this was supposed to hurt my feelings, but it didn't. A white woman could have his sorry ass. "Are you finished?" I said.

"I guess I am," he said, and turned toward the door. "You know something?" he said.

"What's that?"

"You need to be more careful about who you pick up in grocery stores."

When he closed the door, I stood there fuming. I ran over to the phone, called Savannah, and told her everything. She wasn't the least bit shocked. "So I guess you know who's got your wallet?"

"You think he stole my wallet?"

"Bye, Robin," she said, and hung up.

Chapter
15

"Okay, sisters," Etta Mae Jenkins said, "I've got some good news and some bad news." She'd just finished calling the meeting to order and read Black Women on the Move's Purpose Statement, as well as the minutes of the last meeting, which took forever to get approved. As usual, Dottie Knox objected to just about everything.

Gloria was sitting at the long table with the nine other board members. Bernadine and Savannah sat near the back of the room. Robin hadn't shown up yet. Altogether, there were twenty-two black women, all dressed in tailored business suits, sitting in the conferenc
e r oom of First Interstate Bank, where Etta Mae was a vice-president.

"I'd like you sisters to welcome a new member to our advisory board, Savannah Jackson. Savannah, stand up, sister."

Savannah took her purple hat out of her lap, handed it to Bernadine, and stood up. Everybody clapped and said hello.

"She comes all the way to us from Denver and works in PR at Channel 36. We're definitely going to be able to use your talents- right, everybody?"

The women laughed and said yes.

"Welcome, sister," Etta Mae said, and Savannah sat back down.

Judy Long-Carter passed out the treasurer's report, which didn't mean much to anybody until Etta Mae spoke up. "You see those figures, don't you?"

Everybody nodded.

"Well, let me say this. The Achievement Awards luncheon was a success on the one hand and a disappointment on the other. As most of you know, we didn't get the kind of turnout this year like we did last year, and I firmly believe it had something to do with the speaker we chose. Now, I know there are sisters in here who'll disagree, but right now that's not the issue."

"I know one thing," Bernice Mitchell said. "Next year, we better hire a different caterer. That was the driest chicken I ever had in my life, the beef was tough, and it took them forever to bring out the coffee."

"I agree," Mary Collins said, and turned to look at Princess Childs, who headed the Luncheon Committee.

"Look, they had a reputation," Princess said. "They'd done the mayor's luncheon and quite a few other functions around Phoenix, and I hadn't heard of any complaints, so don't blame me. I did my job."

"May I continue, ladies?" Etta Mae said, and kept talking. 4tPrior to the luncheon, we had a little under sixteen thousand dollars in our treasury. As you sisters know, we were unable to get the number of corporate sponsors we had hoped and anticipated. The Corporate Sponsorship Committee, which was composed of Janis, Paulette, Mar- lene, and Winona, did one hell of a job. They went out there and hustled, but we all know how hard it is trying to get companies to donate anything as far as black folks are concerned. They managed to garner a total of five thousand dollars from their efforts. Now, as you all know, it costs us twenty-six thousand dollars to put this luncheon on. Last year, we raised close to fifty. This year, as you can see from the report, we only made about twenty-eight thousand dollars. That's a shame. So where does that leave us?"

"In the hole," Dottie said.

"Not exactly in the hole, but it means that in order to continue some of our ongoing projects, particularly the Black Family Survival Project and the scholarship program, there won't be a Sisters' Nite Out this year."

There were moans and groans throughout the room.

"As you know, the purposes of this meeting were to formulate committees for Sisters' Nite Out, to give you a report on the Achievement luncheon, and to briefly get an update on some of our community service projects. Let me start by saying this. For the last two years, we've allocated twenty-five percent of the proceeds-or a maximum of six thousand dollars-for the scholarship program. We can't change that now. Do you all agree?"

Everybody at the table nodded.

"Shall we take a vote?"

Everybody at the table nodded again.

"All in favor of continuing to use twenty-five percent, or a maximum of six thousand dollars, of the proceeds from the Black Women's Achievement Awards luncheon toward the scholarship program, raise your hands."