Zora and Nicky: A Novel in Black and White (28 page)

“Oh,” he says. “Come in.”

And I do.

But I do it with an attitude, and not of gratitude. I want to see her. I want
her to look me in the face after she kissed me and then did the wild thing,
literally, with him.

What kind of hypocrite am I? I took her to dinner with my freakin’
girlfriend. I’m trapped with Zora in an existential nightmare.

I step into the apartment, and she is standing by the bathroom door,
totally shocked to see me. I’m still trying to wrap my brain around the idea of
their shared intimacy. Her man says, “Z. He’s a brother in Christ.”

She just nods and stares at me like she’s never seen a Christian before.

Miles sticks his hand out. “I’m Miles Zekora. This is my wife, Zora.”

I shake his hand, trying not to react to the fact that he called her his wife.
He takes that one flesh thing seriously. “Nice to meet you, Mr. Zekora.”

“Call me Miles,” he says.

I turn to her. Nod. “
Mrs
. Zekora.”

He waves off my formality. “Naw man, just Zora. What’s your name,
brother?”

“Nicky Parker.”

Miles offers a witty little remark about my name. “Nicky Parker? Brother,
you got the same name as the character that comedienne chick Monique
plays on that TV show,
The Parkers
.”

I knew the show, but honestly, no one, even Pete “I love all things black”
Greene has ever said that to me.

“Your name reminds me of something, too.” I look like I’m struggling to
think of what. “Can’t remember,” I say. “Oh, well.
Hakuna Matata!
”

Zora intervenes before I get punched again. Or give a punch. “He’s been
here before, uh, witnessing.”

“I did witness here before,” I say. It wasn’t really a lie. I may not have been
proselytizing, but I did try to truly be Christ to her.

“I’ve had a very hard day, and God knows I need Jesus right now,” she
says.

Does she need Jesus after the lovin’ like some people need a smoke? I
certainly need Jesus after she’s been with Miles, and this is one instance I
truly want nothing to do with incarnational Christianity, but I actually care
too much to let her statement go without throwing her a bone, even if it’s an
Ezekiel one, all dead and dry.

“We all need Jesus, Zora. Today seems to be a big day for needing Him.
At least for me.”

Miles looks at my face. “Looks like you been needing Him bad today,
man.”

“That’s true, Miles. I’ve had a very hard day as well.”

“And you’re still out here being a soldier for Christ.”

“Soldier?” I chuckle. “That’s apropos, especially with my war wounds.”

“You can learn something from him, Zora. About perseverance.”

She gives him a beatific smile. “I’m sure he’d have a lot to teach me,
Miles.”

I don’t touch that one. But God, I want to. And I want to touch her,
despite how sick I feel being around the two of them. Is this how she felt
today around Rebecca and me? And nobody has called me racial slurs standing
here.

My eyes catch hers. There’s a world of emotion in those eyes, including
one I know well: shame. She’s safe, and now I’m not. I’m getting so angry
at the thought of the two of them together, I am capable of saying or doing
anything. I need to get out of here. She needs me to leave.

“I just thought I’d stop by to say God loves you and has a wonderful plan
for your life. I’ll be going. I hope you and your wife have a great rest of the
day, Miles.”

Zora steps forward. “We’re not married yet, Nicky.”

“It’ll be a matter of days,” Miles says. He sounds defensive, and if I were
him, I would too. “Might as well say it’s done.”

I can’t help myself. Nastiness flies out of my mouth. “Really? Days?
No wonder your apartment is empty. You’re
moving
. Hey, where’s your
engagement ring, Zora?”

Miles looks a little ticked off at me. “I’ve got that taken care of.”

“Of course. It’s probably with her other stuff. What was I thinking?
Forgive me. I just find it odd that your fiancée isn’t wearing a ring.”

“I’m handling it,” Miles says.

I want to keep up the nasty, but it will only make matters worse. And it
won’t change anything.

I’ve lost her.

What am I, crazy? I’m not pursuing her. Just hanging out with her for
a few days has got my life totally twisted. I’ve lost my head, she’s just gotten
cozy with Simba, and I need to get out of here.

Suddenly I’m drained. I take another look at her. She’s so beautiful she
takes my breath away.

I reach out to shake Miles’s hand.

“I wish you and Zora every happiness.”

“Keep in touch, man. I’ll invite you to our reception. Let us get your
number. Take his phone number, Z.”

“Miles, he probably doesn’t want to come to our reception.”

“I wouldn’t miss it, Zora. Let me give you my phone number. Do you
have a pen?”

“As you can see I don’t have
anything
.”

“You have Miles. I’m sure he can at least give you a pen!”

“I’m not so sure,” she says.

Miles gives her a very unpleasant look, but he takes a pen out of the
pocket of his jacket on Zora’s floor. He gives it to me. I write my name,
address, house and cell phone number, and e-mail address on the folded
paper with the poem I wrote. I even write my work number and put Linda’s
name in parenthesis. Try to hand it to him.

“Just give it to Zora. She’ll probably be the one sending out invitations
and stuff. You know how that kind of thing is, man. You got a girlfriend?”

“Not anymore. She broke up with me today.”

He actually laughed. “She dot that eye?”

“It’s actually just under my eye. And, no, that was my father.”

“Whoa, say it ain’t so, Nick. Sorry to hear it. What did you do?”

“Long story, but let’s just say I was really into another woman. Everybody
could tell. Nobody approved.”

“She must be something else if nobody approved.”

“Something
else
? Now that is an apt description, Miles. She was something
else
all right. But regardless of who or what she was, my
girlfriend
didn’t like
me being obviously crazy about her.”

Miles nods. “True that. Any way you can work things out with your
girlfriend?”

“We weren’t a good match. Frankly, the other woman is better

for me.”

“Why don’t you hook up with her then?”

“I
just
found out she’s getting married.”

“Dang, man.” He shakes his head. “I hope you find somebody. Maybe
you’ll be blessed and find somebody like Zora.”

“Now
that
would be something.”

“Yeah, man. I’m blessed.”

“You sure are, Miles.”

He pauses. Seems to strain that pea brain of his to think. “Hey, maybe
I
can hook you up with somebody. Would you have a problem going out with
a sistah?”

God, you’ve got to be kidding me.

I feel Zora looking at me, and I fight not to look back. “
Problem
? Why
on earth would that be a
problem
? It’s not like this is the fifties or something,
Miles, sheesh!”

“Yeah,” Miles says. “Things are different now.” He rolls his shoulders back
in smug self-satisfaction. “Then it’s settled. We’re going to hook you up with
a sistah.”

“I’m excited.” I shift my attention to Zora. “Zora, do you know anybody
I’d be interested in?”

“Maybe one person.”

“Would it help if I told you what I want in a woman?”

“I don’t think so.”

“Oh, come on. It’ll be fun.” I glance around at the sapphire walls that she
said match my eyes. I love her. I’m mad at her. “May I sit, please?”

“We don’t want to keep you, Nicky.” But her
husband
waves away what
she’s said with a flick of his hand.

“Naw, it’s cool. Take a load off. We’re brothers in Christ, right?” He holds
out his fist, and for a moment, I’m confused. I wonder if this is some kind of
precursor to aggression, but then I realize he just wants me to pound it. This
is just a guy thing.

I pound. Sit. And he sits with me.

“Sit down, Zora,” he says. He just orders her. He’s not really asking. She
sits down obediently, in a way Rebecca would if I said, “Sit down!” Didn’t
even challenge him. This isn’t the Dreamy I know and love.

Miles leads the questions once Zora sits with us.

“So, what kind of woman do you want?”

“I dunno, Miles. Somebody kinda
dreamy
.”

“Okay.” He looks at Zora. “You know any dreamy chicks, Z?”

“Maybe one.”

“And I’d like her to be artistic. Somebody with little dots of paint splatter
and residue on her clothes and shoes she can never quite get out because she
paints so much, and so passionately, she just keeps messing up her clothes. I
want a sistah who cares more about art than her clothes.”

Miles rubs his chin. “I don’t know about that one. I mean, she would
sound a little flighty to me. Are you sure that’s what you want?”

“I’m sure, Miles.”

He seems to consider this deeply. “What else are you looking for?”

“A woman who loves books. Maybe not as much as I do, but enough to
engage me in passionate conversation about them. I’d want to share every
novel I love with her. And know all the novels she loves.” He seems a little
bored with me. I don’t like this Miles. “Do you know your wife’s
favorite
book?”