Friends and Lovers (8 page)

“True. Well, speaking of running, we’re in a group and we run early on Sunday mornings.”

“How far?”

“Six to ten. Sometimes we do a half-marathon. Depends.”

He smiled. “Impressive.”

“So if we do church, it’ll have to be late service. Have to get my workout on and keep my thighs tamed.”

“No problem. He understands.”

We stood and stared. Then I felt a tingle from head to curling toes. One of those heart shivers I hid with a smile.

I exhaled, then asked a firm, “Okay. What’s up?”

“What do you mean?”

“Are you married, going through a divorce, living with your wife but not getting along, hiding from the FBI, have six kids by seven different women in eight different
cities, that’s what I mean what’s up? Brothers always have something up.”

He laughed.

I said, “What’s funny?”

“You. What you said.”

“I was serious.”

“That’s why it’s funny.”

“Well?”

“Single as I was on the day I was born. What’s up with you?”

“Not much.”

“Not much ain’t the same as nothing.”

I blew air. “Not much. Nothing at all.”

“Why you hesitate?”

“Hard for me to admit it because most guys think if you look a certain way you’ve got wolves howling at your door.”

Police cars with lights flashing and sirens on sped up Jefferson toward Westchester. Typical nighttime in L.A.

I said, “Call me when you get in. Let me know you made it.”

“If you get in before me, do the same.”

Then we stood face-to-face and had a moment of silence.

He said, “I’m glad I missed the concert.”

“Why?”

“Then I wouldn’t have met you.”

He leaned toward me. My mouth opened like a rose in bloom.

Leonard walked me to the car, opened my door, went back to his Celica, waved, made sure we got started, smiled, then drove away. His music was louded-up. I turned the radio to the same hip-hop station. Louded-up the radio until Shelby screamed.

He turned right and headed toward Leimert Park. I turned left and went deeper into Culver City. Smiling. Not believing the last few minutes of my life. Then my smile went away. I couldn’t believe what I had just done.

Shelby huffed.

I said. “What’s wrong with you?”

“You had me sit in the damn car by myself, that’s what’s wrong. If I had’ve done some shit like that to you, your ass would’ve been going off on me from January to December.”

“Stop acting stupid. You need a time-out.”

“You just remember that.”

“You and your damn mouth.”

“What about
your
mouth? Did you have to kiss him?”

I blushed. “I didn’t kiss him. We hugged good-bye.”

“I saw the whole damn thing. Did you have to kiss him?”

I smiled a little bit more. “Yep.”

“Like
that
? You were busting slob all over the lot.”

“Yes, yes. I was weak, yes.”

Shelby kept on chastising me, sounding like she was somebody’s mother, but my mind was on a mental trip with that Asian-eyed, mystical-complected brother. The one I kept trying not to think about because I was mad at myself. Forget about the charge card. I needed to concentrate on the road. This was L.A. and nighttime is crime time. But I put my mind on Leonard.

Then it floated further back to the others. To the memories I wanted to deny ever happened. I thought about the times I’d given my body to a man because I thought that would make a difference in a relationship. I found out that after sex, the relationship hit the wall and they hit the door.

Only moments had whisked by since me and Leonard stood there shaking hands good-bye, then holding hands for at least a minute like neither one of us wanted to let go of what the night had brought us. All of my feelings were mixed up, and I knew he could tell that. I moved my tongue around to see if I could taste anything he had left behind. It’s hard to taste a memory. But I tried. All I tasted was film on my teeth. Made me wonder if my breath was funky when he put his mouth on mine.

It was quiet. Too quiet. I glanced over and saw that Shelby was asleep, one arm behind her head, mouth halfway open.

Soon as I got home I’d call and cancel my Friday night date with Leonard. Sunday’s church excursion too. Tonight I’d toss and turn and be mad at myself for letting a man I didn’t know, and didn’t intend to know, kiss me before the third date he’d never get to have.

Sweating my ass off. I was so wet my jade and magenta sorority T-shirt clung to my back. Perspiration dripped from my forehead over my Nikes to the plastic part of the StairMaster. Fluids hopped off me and my black spandex shorts with every grunt and pant. Body heat, musty aromas, and cheap perfume stenches jammed the hallway. The stationary bikes were packed with people who finally hit the gym a little bit too late to do any good, because they had more jiggle than a bowl of Jell-O.

Bryce’s big-breasted woman, Nancy, was up in the gym, teaching advanced step to about thirty people, mostly brothers and sisters, fools working on wearing out the cartilage in their knees. She had on blue tights with white stars and looked like she was one color away from being Wonder Woman. I know that bitch saw me because I intentionally got on the machine positioned right outside her class. And she had to pass by me to get in there. While she warmed up the class, I glared at her no-ass reflection and shot her a scowl or two. She was just a-smiling and a-stepping, calling out for them to turn-step, do the freeway routine, whatever, while her breasts were just a-bouncing and colliding like a pair of click-clacks.

First my pager went off. The Motorola vibrated in my fanny pack. It was the number at Faith’s clinic. Debra was calling. I checked my ironman triathlon watch. Almost
noon. Lunchtime was on the way. We were supposed to hook up at one o’clock.

Then I heard,
Umph-umph-UUUUMUPH
come from behind me.

There are some straight up nasty-ass Peeping Tom brothers up at the gym. Strutting around gawking like they were at the Pussycat Lounge. Booty watching and crotch staring like big dogs. Makes a sister leery about opening her legs to get on the inner-thigh machine. I turned to check this mess out. A brother was back there drooling and licking his fat lips, his eyes going
way
up the crack of my butt. Made me wish I had gas. Smiling and grunting his way to whiplash.
Grunt, grunt, moan, grunt.

I said, “Why don’t you take a laxative for that.”

“You work out this hard all the time?”

I didn’t answer. Went right back to minding my own business.

He said, “What’s your name?”

“Does it look like I came up here to socialize?”

I stopped long enough to give him a what-the-hell-are-you-looking-at? glower. I said, “Pervert.”

He said, “I could be the man of your dreams. I could give you multiple organisms.”

I said,
“Organisms?”

“Yeah. When was the last time you had an organism?”

“Buy a vowel and watch
Sesame Street
when you get a chance.”

He put his water bottle to his mouth and moved on, frowned back at me like I was crazy not to give him some play. Now my rhythm was messed up because I was trying to figure which
organisms
he had in mind.

I’d done thirty minutes on the bike; now I was at an hour-ten on the StairMaster. I gripped the handle like I had my fingers around a couple of necks. Every time my feet slammed down I imagined I was stepping on Bryce’s groin. Every time I raised my foot, I imagined I was kicking Nancy up the butt for sexing on my damn mattress. That’s called motivation by irritation.

Bryce walked in the glass doors by the counselors’ desks. All cocky with his chest stuck out. I had hoped to get my workout in and be gone before he showed up. Too late now. He had on zebra-striped pants, sleeveless T-shirt, and was lugging his purple gym bag. I got off the machine, wiped it down, then went downstairs where the trainer’s office was. Tried to get there before he started training somebody. He saw me following and kept on moving. Had the nerve to speed up. I shifted gears and caught up by the weigh-in station. People were all around, so a sister had to be cool and not clown a brother on his j-o-b.

I wiped my face, dabbed my neck with a towel, and said a casual, “Why haven’t you returned my call?”

“For what?”

“So we can make arrangements for me to get my stuff.”

“You got your part of the rent?”

“I’m not giving you any money.”

“Why not?”

“Why you think?”

“You can’t walk out when you get ready and leave me hanging.”

“I want my mattress.”

“Soon as you pay rent and give up a thirty-day notice.”

I reminded Bryce the Bastard who had been fucking around on who on whose brand-new, five-hundred-dollar mattress. Who had stained whose paisley sheets for nights on end. He walked off while I was talking. I went in the other direction and finished the conversation by my damn self. A new direction was something I should’ve dashed in a long time ago. The first time I saw him.

I let it go, for the moment, and got on the stomach machines. Worked obliques. Lower abs. I was working hard, crunching and cussing, and cussing and crunching, grunting like a bear, slinging my sweat all across the room. Then I saw Nancy pass by upstairs, heading toward the ladies’ locker room. She had the nerve to stare down on me like I was the Stupid of the Week. Then she stalled, tilted her head and watched me in a
weird kind of way. Weird enough to make me stop cussing while I was crunching. I told myself I wasn’t going to say anything to her. Let it ride; let it ride; let it ride. Told myself this issue was between me and Bryce. It wasn’t like she had the remote control to his dick either. I was sure she’d find that out sooner or later when it strayed to another vaginal channel.

Debra was probably getting antsy because I hadn’t called her back yet, but the phones were inside the locker room. Where Nancy had just gone. The only other phones were upstairs in the lobby of the hotel. I might’ve had my head high, shoulders back, might’ve looked okay and had much attitude, but right below the surface, I was uncomfortable. Very. Made me feel like a rabbit in lioness clothing. I didn’t want to see Nancy face-to-face, mainly because I felt like I had lost whatever I had to lose, so far as Bryce was concerned. These feelings had no point.

I waited a few minutes, stalled by working on the back machines, waited long enough for my pager to go off again and let me know I was long overdue for lunch, long enough to give Nancy time to get the hell out of
my
gym. I figured I would pack up my stuff, catch the sauna for about ten minutes, shower, dress, throw on my sandals, Levi’s, and white T-shirt, then hook up with Debra and Faith for lunch.

The locker room was practically empty. No sign of Nancy. Less stress. I stripped down to my chocolate delight, grabbed a towel, grabbed a razor so I could do my legs and underarms, and went to the sauna to center myself and recoup some Zen before I went to my friends.

Nancy was in the back corner of the sauna on the wooden bench. Naked with her yellow towel under her golden butt. One itty-bitty foot up on the bench. Showing me what she had spread out on my damn mattress. She saw me when I stepped inside into the heat. I wanted to turn around and leave, but I couldn’t let the bitch chase me out of my own gym. Hell, I paid fifteen dollars a month for this crap. Had been paying my dues for the last five years. Always paying my dues. So this
is
my
gym. I wished Debra was with me because then I could be a lot stronger, a lot bitchier. Intimate situations tend to leave a sister exposed.

Her eyes were on me. Mine on her. Then we both shifted our focuses. Made me glad this didn’t turn into a sauna stare-down. I went to the opposite side of the room. Took my towel off. Put it under my butt. A real butt. Showed her what she couldn’t compete with even if she tried. Showed her what only a
real
black man would appreciate.

Before five minutes had passed—five minutes of my inhaling the funky aroma of the nameless perfume that had violated my pillowcases—the sauna had me suffocating. Dizzy or not, I’d be damned if I left first. Five more minutes passed. Me and Nancy made eye contact again. More like I raised my head to get a sip of my bottled water and she was watching me. So I watched her back. Then she lowered her head. So did I. She looked comfortable, like she was used to living in this kind of hell. She had that weird gaze again. The one she had when she passed by and stared down on me in the gym.

She said, “Shelby?”

I raised my head. Tsked. Gave her the same kind of scowl I’d passed to the brother when I was on the StairMaster.

She said, “I’m moving in with Bryce. He asked me to.”

I chewed the inside of my lip. Rocked a bit.

She said, “Bryce told me a few things about you.”

I said, “I just want you to know, I don’t have anything against you. Me and Bryce have some unresolved business. The sooner we handle it, the better for everybody involved.”

Nancy said, “You are a beautiful woman.”

“What?”

“I said you are a beautiful woman. I’ve never seen anyone like you in my life. Would you like to go out sometime?”

“Go out with you? You asking me out on a date with you?”

“No. With me and Bryce. Maybe we could all get together.”

I blinked a few times. Heard her say something about wine. Then I blinked a few more times. Swallowed twice. Heard her say something about it not being that unusual and she could look at me and tell we had something in common. Between each blink, it seemed like the heifer had scooted closer to me. I know she did because when I stopped blinking, she was next to me, right up on me, with her hand on my damn leg. Rubbing my sweat up and down.

I knocked her hand off me and hopped to my feet.

Nancy looked scared as hell.

The door opened and a couple of sisters stepped inside tittering, tee-heeing, and lollygagging. They stopped laughing and yacking when they saw me and Nancy the Nympho standing in front of the hot coals. The sisters’ mouths gaped open, eyes bugged out with expressions of discovery, like they had stumbled across a couple of invisible lives.