Unfaithful Ties (4 page)

****

By 5 o’clock Brandi was fluffing pillows, dusting, and tidying up the house.

“Hey mom”
Trevon greeted when he walked into the kitchen.

“Hey son” Brandi said with a big beautiful smile.

Trevon headed for the refrigerator. “Trent must be asleep?”

“No, I haven’t picked him up from daycare yet” she said, simply. “I’m about to go and pick him up in a second.” She was running behind on schedule. Normally she would’ve picked Trent up by now, but she was tired and decided to let him stay a little longer. Presently she was squeezing the water out of a checkerboard colored dish clothe, then hung it over the sink, and said. “Go and grab my sneakers out of my closet”
Shit, I can’t go out like this,
she thought remembering that
s
he hadn’t bothered to comb her hair. It was cut into a short bob with a few honey blonde highlights. Her round face was natural today, free of the powder that she packed on her face daily because Trae said that she wasn’t attractive without it. “That’s okay. I’ll get them” She told Trevon glimpsing down at the oversized dingy white t-shirt she was wearing, with no bra underneath, and a pair of capris. She grabbed a can of air freshener from underneath the kitchen sink and sprayed it around the house.

“What are we going to eat today?”
Trevon asked. “I’m starving”

“I’m going to grab something on the way back home. So tell me, when did
Tremaine start skipping school?

“I don’t know mom.”
He told her.

“When was the last time that you saw him at school?”

“I don’t know” He answered, agitatedly. “I never see him”

“I don’t understand how you two attend the same high school and never see one another.”

“Maybe it’s because we don’t want too”

Other than the fact that
Trevon and Tremaine were handsome, tall, athletic, charming, and the spitting image of their father they didn’t have anything in common. Tremaine was more masculine, into girls, brands, and rap music, and his brother Trevon, well let’s just say that he wasn’t quite into any of the above including girls, and probably never will be.

Brandi was staring angrily at her son, and within a matter of seconds she was bound to strangle him. He was neatly dressed and very well groomed as he towered over her, his nose was tooted up and his right hand was on his hip. His father would’ve wacked his hand clean off his wrist if he’d ever caught him standing that way and
Trevon was well aware of it, but he didn’t care. As far as he was concerned his dad might as well accept it.

“When
Tremaine gets here, tell him that he is not to leave this house because I have a bone to pick with him” She commanded then exited the kitchen, moved quickly down the hall, went into her bedroom, grabbed her sneakers, slid her feet into them, grabbed her car keys and mobile, then exited the house in a hurry.
Time sure does fly,
she thought glancing down at her wristwatch
the daycare closes in less than thirty minutes.

“Hey Cassy” She spoke to her next-door neighbor as she walked through the grass.

Cassy
waved her hand. “You must be in a hurry?” She asked.

“Yeah I’m running late I have to pick up Trent from daycare.” Brandi said bending down to scratch an itch on her legs. “That man of mines sure needs to cut this grass” She mentioned.

Cassy chuckled.
Trae needs to do a lot more than that,
she thought.

“Well I have to get going” Brandi said as she plopped down into the seat of her minivan. She drove off tooting the horn. “Talk to you later girl” She yelled out of the window.

****

Brandi was turning left to merge onto the highway that led to the childcare center that her son Trent attended. It was just after the five o’clock rush and the traffic was congested. While coasting in bumper-to-bumper traffic Brandi observed herself in the sun visor mirror. The skin underneath her almond shaped eyes was saggy and dark. A few dark blemishes were on both sides of her cheeks, which she couldn’t believe because she’s never had problems with acne before. She ran her hand through her hair and thought she could really use a perm. She’d let herself go. And then surprisingly, she was thinking about Cassy and how much she envied her. The attractive single woman that lived next door, had crossed her mind because she appeared to have everything that Brandi had hoped she’d have by now. A successful career as a cardiologist, a fit figure, her very own home, a Range Rover, and looks that could capture any man’s heart. Secretively, Brandi longed to trade places with her, even if it was only for one day. Cassy had achieved all the goals that Brandi had written down as a teenager. Brandi wanted to know how it felt to truly be independent. To not have to  want for anything. Somehow over the years Brandi had lost focus and settled with the idea that she’d never be anything other than what she is now. She felt like she was just a big dysfunctional object that was obstruent. That she was nothing. That she didn’t mean anything to anyone. That’s how Trae made her feel. But now she wanted to reclaim her life. She wanted to feel vibrant again.
Tomorrow I’m going to join Weight Watchers and I’m going to lose fifty pounds, and I’m going to do it for myself, so I can feel like I achieved something on my own for a change, Maybe then Trae won’t look at me like I turn his stomach upside down, maybe then he’ll make love to me like he did when were younger, shit, I’m no longer hungry for some good loving, hell, I’m starving,
she thought.

****

“Mommy I’m hungry” Trent whined while sitting in his car seat.
Lord please help me
Brandi prayed. “I heard you for the third time Trent. I’m going to stop by McDonalds okay!” She said answering her mobile with a hunched shoulder. It was Stacy.

“Hey girl” Brandi said.

“Hey B, sounds like my Godson is hungry” Stacy chuckled. “How have you been?”

“Girl I feel like I’m about to have a nervous freaking break-down.”

“What’s wrong?” Stacy sounded concerned.

“Between dealing with
Trae and the kids I don’t know how I make it sometimes” She confessed and felt like she’d just lifted a huge burden off of her chest. It felt good to be able to confide in someone.

“Mommy I want my chicken nuggets now!” Trent pouted. He was spoiled rotten and could really use a spanking at the moment.

“B, I have told you a million times-”

“Hold on for a sec Stacy, crazy
ol’ me just flew right passed the McDonald’s entrance.” Brandi dropped the mobile inside her lap, flipped on the turning signal, maneuvered into the right lane, made a quick U-turn and headed back towards McDonalds.

“What were you saying now Stacy?” she asked, once she’d positioned her mobile amongst her ear.

“I was saying that I’ve told you a million times before that you need to take it easy on yourself. Quit worrying about things that you don’t have any control over. You can’t control Trae any further than you can throw his ass. And I know that you can’t throw him that far. Trae has been an asshole since high school. He’s never going to change.”

“I’m trying to keep it together, I really am. But it feels like my heart is about to explode. Things are so bad that I fainted while I was in the shower last week.”

“You did what?”

“I passed out”

“And what did the doctor say?”

“I haven’t visited the doctor yet”

“B, you need to go see a doctor. There is no telling what could be wrong with you. It could be all sorts of things.”

“It’s probably nothing serious. I think that I’ve just been stressing a lot lately. I need a vacation.”

“What you need to do is go to the doctor, like right now” Stacy insisted.

“I can’t go to the doctor right now. Who’s going to watch after Trent?”

“His sorry ass father that’s who” Stacy snapped.

Brandi rolled down the window once she heard the employee’s voice echoing
from the drive-thru speaker. “Welcome to McDonalds... would you care for a iced Mocha to go along with your meal today?” A soft feminine voice asked.

“Hold again Stacy. No thank you. I just want to order a chicken nugget kids meal with a Hi-C Orange soda and honey mustard sauce please.”

“Okay, that was a chicken nugget kids meal with a Hi-C Orange soda and honey mustard sauce?” The employee repeated.

“That’s correct”

“Will this complete your order?”

“That
oughta’ do it”

“Your total is $4.22. Pull around to the second window please.”

Brandi rolled up the window, drove forward, and picked up the conversation where they’d left off. “Stacy, picture that! He’s barely home and when he is home the kids are his last priority”

“Well you need to start putting your feet down and stop letting him walk all over you.”

“If I keep quiet it’ll eliminate a lot of arguments”

“And that’s why you feel like you’re about to have a nervous breakdown. Because you keep everything in”

When the employee, a cute blonde opened the drive thru window Brandi rolled down her window again. “Hello” She spoke.

“Good afternoon mam” She said with a smile. “That’ll be $4.22”

“Hold on again Stacy.” Brandi stretched her short beefy arm as far as she could because she was parked too far away from the window and handed the teen some cash, grabbed her change once the payment was processed, and retrieved the bag of food. “Thanks” She said and drove off.

“Mommy I want my chicken nuggets” Trent whined again.  Brandi glanced at him through the rear view mirror. He was as cute as a button with deep brown skin and an oval shaped face that was embellished with a head full of thick black clumps of curly hair. “I want my food now” He pouted and kicked the back of the driver seat.

Brandi turned around and hollered, “Wait a minute Trent! I’m moving as fast as I can” She spanked his leg, which hurt his little feelings. When he started to cry hysterically she opened the bag of food, peeled back the wrapper on the honey mustard sauce and handed Trent the food, stealing a few fries for herself, although she didn’t need them.

When Brandi could finally get back to the phone she was so agitated that she told Stacy she would call her back at a better time.  She realized that she’d forgotten to grab the twins a bite to eat so she made a quick U-turn and made another trip to McDonalds. Then finally she merged back onto the highway and fled home. By then she could really use a cigarette and she didn’t even smoke. More than likely Trent wasn’t going to attend Karate practice. She was tired
.

chapter 2

Stacy...Chicago Illinois

Most women think that if they stick around long enough their man will eventually mature, settle down, and suddenly become fond of their feelings. So she gives him one opportunity after another to get it together. And you’d think that after the millionth plus time that she’s given him another chance she’d comprehend that he’s always going to be a skirt chasing, two timing, phony asshole. My girlfriend Brandi is the President of the naïve committee. That’s what I call women that are so bird-brained and blank minded about what the men in their lives are doing right in front of their faces. I’m no fool and I know a dog when I see one. And
Trae is a Staffordshire bull terrier, the most viscous dog there is. But for some odd reason Brandi doesn’t see it. She claims that it’s not easy to walk away from a twenty-two year relationship and that I’ll never understand because I’ve never had a serious adult relationship. The only relationship that I’ve had that lasted longer than six months was when I dated Malik Shaw back in high school. We lasted until I rolled up on the side of him and witnessed him thrusting his manhood inside the vagina walls of this hussy named Jennifer in the backseat of his hoopty during our sophomore year in college. Since that day I’ve despised Malik with intense passion and he’s partly the reason why most men at the firm refer to me as the
Beautiful Bitter Bitch
. He broke my heart and embarrassed the shit out of me.  I haven’t had a decent whole man since. I’ve dated a few sleaze balls here and there and I have also dated a few guys that I really liked, unfortunately I didn’t make it to the altar with any of them. The last guy that I was really into I ended up having to cut his ass loose a few days ago. After the sixty-day probationary period that I tend to put men on, ended and he tested negative for HIV, I tried to give him some. I bet you’re sitting there wondering do I require a man to have a HIV screening test done before I sleep with him? The answer is…hell yeah! Before I give a man my goodies they have to get tested first. Yes, you heard me correctly if a man wants to get inside these panties I need to see the paperwork. His status has to be proven. Now that you can purchase a HIV screening test in your local pharmacy there is no excuse for people not to know the status of themselves and their partners.

Well anyway, it was clear that Kelvin wasn’t the man that God designed for me the other night when we were having a romantic dinner at
Spiaggia. This was the first and only time that I seduced him. From the moment we walked into the restaurant I was hornier than a female dog in heat, so, as I poked my fork into the tasty butternut squash I slid my foot out of my shoe and seductively traced Kelvin’s slacks with my French pedicured toes giving him the indication that I was ready to see what he had to offer. I sipped my wine, leaned across the table, and whispered with a seductive growl “I want to feel every inch of you inside of me tonight” He’d been bragging about how pleasurable he was in the sack and I was ready to find out if it was true. So, once the waiter brought two carryout boxes to our table, we emptied our dishes into the containers and headed to my place. It only took us a few minutes to get there. Tipsy from the wine, I undressed myself immediately after we walked into my bedroom. Next I climbed onto my plush bed and slid underneath the covers. Kelvin climbed in behind me, tossed his clothes to the floor, and began kissing every inch of my body. It wasn’t until after a few minutes of his boring foreplay that I realized he was turning me off. But I assisted him to that place between my legs anyway. And guess what? Let me just say this: eating pussy was definitely not his forte. This was truly not a good sign and I was tired of pretending that I was having the best pleasure I’d ever experienced and I was kinda’ hoping that he was saving the best for last. So, I moaned, “I’m ready to feel you”. That’s when he slid the rubber on his penis and eased it inside my vagina.
I’ve been waiting nearly a year to get laid and this is what I get? Shit
, were the words floating through my head.

The headboard was banging hard
into the wall and I guess that’s why he assumed that he was doing a hell of a job with his nearly invisible penis. “You’re the best I’ve ever had,” He groaned. Hearing his groans made me gag as I thought to myself,
I’m probably the only woman you’ve ever ever had
! After what felt like the longest two minutes of my life I started to feel as though I was about to barf all over the place, so I nudged him off of me. Yes I did! I wasn’t about to let him waste anymore of my time. If I don’t come…you can’t come!

“What’s wrong?” He asked as he sprang up from the bed. His little two-inch penis looking
like a crooked pinky finger.

I can’t believe I let you put that little shit in,
I thought. “Your little penis is what’s wrong” I yelled, as I slid back into my dress. “If I’m not going to have the satisfaction of reaching an orgasm you sure as hell aren’t” I told him.

“I know my WOOD
is not the biggest in the world but it’s doable” He argued.

“You need to go” I said, and then shoved him. “Now” I shouted. I kneeled down to gather his clothing off of t
he floor. “For the last two months you’ve bragged about how good you’re going to make me feel between the sheets. Well I’m here to tell you that it wasn’t anything pleasurable about this experience. And now you want to holler that your miniature penis is doable. Doable for who? That little toddler penis is not doable for me in no way shape...form...or fashion. You’ve had me all pumped up for months and that little shit is what you pull out?”

“So just like that you’re just
gonna’ be rid of me?”

“I sure am.” I said, guiding him down the hall.

“Can we at least talk about this?” He whined; as he stood between the doorframe.

“I’ve said what I have to say. I don’t do guys with little dicks and it is definitely not a possibility that we could
have a future. No way in hell.”  I slammed the door with him still standing there and headed back to my bedroom.  I grabbed two double A batteries, climbed back into bed and pleasured myself with my personal toy. Hell, I did a better job pleasing myself then Kelvin ever could.

Honestly, I’m petrified when it comes to dating, with all the undercover brothers strutting around I’m always second guessing whether or not the brothers that approach me are on the down low or not. My sisters, and my mother, and my girlfriends, well, pretty much everyone that I know says that I’m too finicky. They’ve warned me that I’m too independent and that I intimidate most men. That I make men feel like they’re inadequate. Those
helfa’s also had the nerve to tell me that at times I’m malicious. I know that I have my days were I am mean as hell, but saying that I’m malicious is a little absurd. A few days ago Vanessa said to me “Stacy if you don’t lower your damn standards eventually loneliness is going to worm its way into your life.” I don’t think there’s anything wrong with having standards. I want what I want. I’m an attractive thirty something year old woman with a successful career as a criminal defense attorney. What? You know women never tell their real age. Anyway, I own my very own condo, I drive a Mercedes Benz CLS, and I make six figures. Why should I settle for a man that’s not anywhere close to my level? My description of an ideal man is a man that is stable. I’m not saying that he has to be rich, or that his paycheck has to amount to mines but he has to be able to take care of himself, he has to have good credit, and is responsible. He definitely has to have his own house and is not living at home with his mother. And if he has kids, they must be his number one priority. Plus he shouldn’t have any more than two different women that he’s impregnated. And looks! He definitely has to be attractive, and tall, at least six two, and even though he’s big he has to be gentle, and delicate and knows how to make me feel brand new. He has to carry at least eight inches in his boxer briefs, and can sustain himself to last longer than two damn minutes. I’d prefer if he didn’t smoke, or drink. Occasional drinking I can deal with but I don’t want an alcoholic.  Good personal hygiene is a must. And he must have nice teeth, and minty breath. Not that horse manure scent that I have to deal with every time that Horace talks to me at work. I don’t see how his wife deals with him, I mean every time that he opens his mouth I’m forced to sit there and wonder is he’s talking to me or having a bowel movement. My office smells like a damn farm every time he opens his mouth. I guess his wife is use to it. But I could never settle for a man with horrible oral hygiene. How would I tell my man in a nice way that his breath smells like shit? Knowing me I would probably be too harsh, so to avoid it all I don’t entertain men with yucky breath. No matter how successful he is. He also has to be an adventurist and doesn’t mind traveling and trying different things. I don’t want a man that doesn’t like to do anything besides screw, eat, and sleep. Those types of men are uninteresting and predictable. So what I’m over thirty something, I’m not old and I don’t want to live my life without any amusement. I live for excitement and I want a man that isn’t afraid of being spontaneous. Oh, and religion is important and I’m a Christian, so he has to believe in Jesus. He also has to attend church I don’t mean only on holidays such as New Year’s Eve and Easter I’m talking about attending Sunday service at least twice a month. Please Lord; don’t let him have all the right qualities but carry on like a big baby. I’ve come to realize that some men want you to be their damn mama. I’m not trying to mother anyone’s child except my own and I don’t have one yet. My point is I want a real man. A man that’s one hundred percent loyal and easy to get along with. And does the yard work, and changes the oil, and helps keep the house clean. Now is that too much to ask for?

Malik was supposed to be my husband and for the longest time I couldn’t wait until the day that I became Mrs. Malik Shaw. And I’m not going to fake it I have yet to meet a man that comes anywhere close to making me feel the way Malik did in the bedroom. I often wonder how things might have turned out if Jennifer hadn’t interfered. Then I get upset with myself for allowing to him cross my mind in the first place. Lena jokes that I’m not over Malik. She claims that’s why it’s hard for any man other than him to keep my attention for longer than ten minutes. I don’t think that’s what it is at all. Now, I admit that part of the reason that I haven’t been able to fully commit to a man is because I don’t trust them. I fault Malik for that. Most men will pass my trust issues off as some type of insecurity and that definitely is not my problem. My biggest regret is, not accepting any of Malik’s phone calls after I’d caught him and Jennifer humping
like two little rabbits. Not because I would have reconciled our relationship but because I need closure. And since I haven’t spoken to him since that day, I’ve asked myself for years, what did Jennifer do that I couldn’t do? What wasn’t I doing enough of? Was she better in bed? Was she a better listener? Did he find her more attractive? What was it about her that made him humiliate me and hurt me so bad? Any man with eyes could see that Jennifer was beautiful but, hell, so am I.

For a woman I’m tall, about one hundred and sixty pounds, and I flaunt my 34, 25, 40 inch silhouette like I own the world.  Men just love the smooth baby-like texture of my mocha skin. They always say that I’m cute to be a dark-skinned woman, which pisses me off... because, what in the hell is that supposed to mean? As if dark skinned women aren’t usually cute. Shit, I’ve seen some unattractive fair-skinned women. Well anyway, normally I have a million littl
e braided extensions in my head but for the past two months are so I’ve been wearing my hair in a wrap. When I took the last set of extensions out, my hair had grown just a little below my shoulders, so I had my stylist give me a relaxer and trim the split ends. It was different, and I didn’t like it at first. But now I think it’s growing on me.

Sometimes I wo
rry that I’ll never meet
Mr. Right
, that I’ll never be someone’s mom, that I’ll never say, “I do”, and that I’ll end up old and lonely. Lord knows that I don’t want that. But the reality is this, most men my age are taken, and the one’s that aren’t taken are single because they just want to have fun and are too afraid to fully commit themselves to a woman, or gay, or they’re divorced and too scared to get married again and risk going through the entire tussle of who walks away with what all over again. And I really can’t say that I blame them. The
Man
that I end up with is definitely going to sign a prenuptial agreement. I’ve worked too hard to have some man walk away with half of everything that I’ve worked my ass off for. Brandi says I’m already wishing negativity on a relationship that I don’t have yet. Again I don’t think that’s what I’m doing at all. I just believe that what’s mines is mines and what’s his is his. And nine times out of ten if he has his own he’s not too concerned about walking away with any of my assets. Which is another reason why the man that I even consider myself sharing a future with has to already be established when we meet. In my opinion if a man isn’t established by the time he reaches his thirties, what on earth could he possibly add to my life? I’ll be damned if I let a man enter my life that doesn’t have a pot to piss in or a window to throw out! At what cost to me?  The last thing that I need is for a man to destroy my credit, exceed my credit card bills, and send me sailing up Shit Creek. The next thing you know I’ll be trying to sell my condo, trade in my car for something less expensive, or even worse filing bankruptcy.  Hell, I want a man badly! But I will never want a man that damn bad! Some women will settle and accept any man as long as he pipes her good. Not Stacy! Dick is not that good. My girlfriends joke that I should never say never because if the right man comes along with the right size dick, I may forget all about my standards.