After The Dance (30 page)

Man, me hooking up with Ms. Vic on my birthday is something that just sorta happened. Really, it did. If anything, my plan was to be as far away from her ass as possible because I knew good and well if we went out that evening and had so much as a halfway decent time, later on that night we were destined to be laid up somewhere buck-naked, humping like a couple of mad dogs in heat.

I promise you, man, I called up some of everybody—in-cluding the good Lord—in my desperate attempt to keep baby girl at bay, only to come up with absolute zip. My cousin Squirrel wasn’t picking up his phone or responding to any of the messages I left him. My Uncle Westbrook claimed he had himself some hot date he didn’t dare break. And everybody else either already had other plans or for some reason I wasn’t able to touch bases with them.

I was all set to spend my birthday nursing a beer by my lonesome, either at the bar or else holed up in one of the dark booths at Big Mama Mae’s. But baby girl chucked a nice-size wrench in those plans.

She’d been bugging me for days about my birthday plans and I’d pretty much been giving her the brush-off. So when she called me at work that afternoon, I decided to take the easy route and just not call her back. But lo and behold, as I’m clocking out for the day, who do you think I spot in the parking lot standing next to my car? I’m saying I guess she called herself straight gonna stalk a brother.

She was like, “So what’s it gonna be, birthday boy? You gonna let me treat you to dinner tonight or are you gonna keep running?”

I said, “Victoria, look, I don’t want you to think that I don’t appreciate the offer, ’cause I do. But like I’ve told you before—”

“Yeah, I know, I know,” she said. “You’re still hung up on the age thing, but that’s okay. I guess that means I’ll just have to give you your birthday gift now, as opposed to later.”

That’s when she stepped to me, man. And before I could get a proper hold of the situation, her lips had locked against mine and the sister was straight working on trying to suck the tongue out the back of a brother’s head.

“Happy birthday” is what she had the nerve to tell me when she finally turned me loose.

Tell me ’bout it, man! Baby girl ain’t a day over twenty-two, but her skills and abilities are on par with those of any forty-some-year-old who has been around the block more than a time or two.

I made the mistake of watching her walk away. And, man, what I do that for? She had on these hip-hugging, low-riding jeans, and I’ll be damned if that doggone butterfly riding her ass wasn’t winking at a brother.

I don’t know what to say, man. I just lost it—all my cool, all my resolve, everything. “Wait up,” I said, chasing behind her like some mindless, punked-out zombie. “You, ah, you think you could be ready by say 6, 6:15 or so?” is what I asked her. “My daughters want me to drop by around 6:30 and pick up the present they got for me. I mean, I could come and get you later, if you like.”

“No,” she said, sealing my fate with a grin and a seductive lick of the lips. “No, 6:15 is fine. I’ll see you then.”

I wasn’t gonna go. It had been nearly a month and a half since Carl and I went our separate ways. But the more I
thought about it, the more I realized I really did want to see him again.

To keep Nora from hounding my behind, I finally just told her, “Look, I’ll go to the durn party, all right? But I’m only gonna stay a minute. You know Wednesday night is the night I do my volunteer work. So it would probably be best if we went in separate cars.” She rolled her eyes and said, “You need to quit. How you gonna plot a getaway before you even get there?”

See, that’s why homegirl is always sitting up somewhere crying the blues. She don’t know the game like I know the game. If she did, she’d be hip to the fact that one of the basic rules of play is leaving a convenient out for oneself—just in case something right funky goes down.

As for what Scoobie might say, I really wasn’t worried one way or the other. The fact of the matter is, he’s been in Europe for the past couple of weeks. Yeah, Morris-Morgan sent him over there to take part in some international culinary program. It’s a three-week deal. And don’t think I haven’t been thoroughly enjoying the break homeboy being umpteen thousand miles away has given me.

But anyway, getting back to Carl and his birthday, after batting a couple of ideas around, Nora and I decided to split the cost of getting him an iPod. After we brought the gadget home, I took the liberty of hooking dude up with some of those old tunes he’s so partial to. You know, a little Luther, a little Barry White, some Kenny Lattimore, a song or two by Jarreau. For good measure, I even threw in those two slow jams he asked me to dance to back when we were first feeling each other out—“You Got Me Going in Circles” by the Friends of Distinction and “Baby I’m for Real” by the Originals.

Yeah, girl, I’m not gonna lie, listening to all those songs brought back more than just a few memories about Carl and some of the things he and I did together. But then I got
to thinking about our breakup and the fight between him and Scoobie and that last nasty exchange of words.

I stepped up in the place not really knowing what to expect but praying all the while that if nothing else Carl and I could at least be polite to each other. Betty was gracious, as always, and the twins nearly trampled Nora and me in their excitement to see us—all reactions I’d pretty much anticipated.

Now, what I never expected was to have such an intense physical reaction when dude finally made his appearance. A surge of warmth started at the top of my head and slowly spread throughout the rest of my body. If that wasn’t bad enough, I felt a certain part of my female anatomy straight up start to clench and swell, girl, as if it had a mind and more than just a few memories of its own.

And I have to give it to the brother, he wasn’t looking half-bad. Not only did it look like he’d been hitting the weights and gotten more muscular, he’d cut his hair and had trimmed his beard into a nice little goatee. He was also sporting these itty-bitty gold hoops, girl, I’m saying, one in each ear. Altogether it was a look that made him appear considerably hipper and fresher, if not several years younger. And given the youthful appearance of the fast-tailed slim who came skipping in two steps behind him,
not
looking his age was the whole point.

I’m not sure why, but not once did it ever occur to me that Carl just might show up with a date. If it had, you’d best believe I would have kept my big butt at home. I don’t know, girl, seeing him there with slim just made me feel weird. Not jealous, not angry or upset, just weird.

Nora looked at me and said, “You all right?”

I lied and told her, “Of course I am. Why wouldn’t I be?”

She said, “Well, it ain’t everyday that some half-dressed hoochie shows up at a party with your man.”

“First of all,” I told her, “he’s not my man. And secondly, we were never more than—”

Nora threw a hand up in my face and said, “Uh-uh! Spare me the sad little speech, girlfriend, ’cause ain’t nobody ’round here trying to believe that mess but you. Okay?”

That got me hot, and I told Ms. Smart Mouth, “Look, all I’m saying is that what happened between me and Carl has been over and done with. He’s free to see whomever he pleases without any unnecessary interference or drama from me.”

She fired back at me with, “Yeah, and all I’m saying is you ain’t got to worry ’bout getting your hands dirty. If you want me to do the honor of going over there and busting that up for you, just say the word, ’cause you know I will.”

I grabbed her and said, “Nora, I swear if you embarrass me in front of all these people, I’ll never speak to your ignorant butt again.”

She settled down and said, “Well, aren’t you at least gonna go over and speak to the man? I ain’t never known a freaking ‘hello’ to hurt nobody.”

I snuck a glance over at Carl and slim before I turned back to Nora and shook my head. “Not now. Maybe later.”

She frowned and shook her head back at me. “Girl, please,” she said. “Later for later. I’m going over there now and I’d advise you to stop being such a big chicken and bring your silly butt on with me.”

She headed off like a woman on a sho’ ’nuff mission to make matters worse, and the only thing that slowed her down and bought me enough time to get myself together was the sudden appearance of Carl’s cousin Squirrel and Uncle Westbrook square in homegirl’s path.

A birthday party? Yeah, I was surprised, all right. And so too were quite a few other folks, apparently. I’m saying, surprised that this ol’ boy hadn’t exactly arrived on the scene by his lonesome.

Even so, my showing up with Ms. Vic probably wouldn’t have caused such a big stir if baby girl hadn’t shown up all hooched-out. She’d traded in the hip-hugging jeans she’d had on earlier for a pair of slacks that were twice as tight and provided even more of a behind-the-scenes peek—I’m saying, man, butterfly, ass crack, and all. If that wasn’t bad enough, her shirt only came to her midriff and was mostly cutaway in the back. I’d never seen baby girl with that much skin exposed, which leads me to believe she’d only done it as some sort of birthday treat for me. And let me tell you, it was most definitely a show and one I probably would have enjoyed had it not taken place in the presence of my ex, my two little girls, and the dozen or more friends and relatives who’d shown up to help me celebrate my forty-second.

The ex didn’t waste any time in sharing with me her opinion with regards to my choice of company and her provocative attire. Smiling politely and chattering pleasantries all the while, she hurriedly parked my crazy cousin Constance on the sofa next to Ms. Vic before dragging me aside and promptly getting all in my face. “What in the hell would ever possess you to grace my doorstep with some two-bit video ’ho?!” I told you, man, preacher’s daughter or not, get her mad and my girl Bet will straight cuss you worse than any drunk, one-eyed sailor.

I was like, “A video ’ho? You actually think I’d show up here in front of my children with a doggone ’ho of any kind?”

“Well, it damn sure looks that way,” Betty said, with those jaws of hers so swoll you’da thought she had a bunch of sour grapes shoved up into each cheek.

That’s when my cousin Squirrel jumped in and, with an arm around my shoulder, said, “You tell ’im, Bet. Carl know he ain’t right.”

I looked at him and said, “Did somebody ask for your opinion?”

He said, “Hey, you know it don’t make me no never mind what kind of ’ho she is. I mean, just so long as before you leave here tonight, you pass me the name and the number of the pimp you know that can hook a brother up like that!” He bust out laughing, then dapped me up and hollered, “Dag, Carl! Baby got it going on. Hook me up with some of that, playa! You know what I’m saying?”

Still looking like a mad chipmunk, the ex waved a finger in my face and said, “Uh-huh, I should have known. That explains why you’ve been walking ’round here lately looking like a Black Mr. Clean or somebody.”

“You tell ’im, Bet,” Squirrel piped up again. But before he could contribute any more of his special brand of stupidity to the conversation, Betty ordered him to hush up before proceeding to drag him off to the kitchen to help her with the punch.

I was standing there feeling a little lost and just a tad embarrassed when who but Nora should come up and tap me on the shoulder. Rather than give her the standard “it’s good to see ya” embrace, I picked her up and spun her around.

She said, “Better save some of that, lover boy. Your girl Faye’s here.”

I was like, “Faye?! Where?”

An honest-to-goodness double take is what I did when I turned and saw ol’ girl. She was standing over in a corner talking to my Uncle Westbrook and looking as fine as all
get-out. I’m saying, man, she’s lost so much weight, I hardly recognized her.

“And you’d best be nice to her,” Nora said. “It took a whole lot for her to come here tonight.”

Knowing Faye, I didn’t doubt it. And not wanting to waste any time, I was on my way over to holla at her when Ms. Vic suddenly slid back up in the picture. On handing me a glass of punch, she smiled and latched her arm around mine. Baby girl ain’t no dummy. Chances are she’d gotten a good whiff of the scent I was onto and had decided it probably wasn’t in her best interest to let me wander off too far without her.

What was I supposed to do, man? Leave her standing there while I ran over and wagged my tail all up in some other woman’s face? I’m sorry, it’s just not in me to outright dis a chick like that, especially a chick I brought to the dadgum party in the first place. See, and therein lay the problem in a nutshell. I mean, had I known there was gonna be a gathering in my honor and my girl Faye was gonna be there, I’da straight left Ms. Vic sitting at home alone.

Ain’t no sense in me denying it, man. I’ve still got feelings for the girl. I can hardly be in the same room with her without wanting to touch her, talk to her—I’m saying, just be close to her. Every time I looked her way, I got this big fat knot in my chest. And of course it didn’t help any that on one of my many glances in her direction, she stopped playing coy and went ahead and acknowledged me with a quick flash of dimples and a nod.

I was hurting somethin’ awful, man, and feeling on the verge of being straight-up sick when Nora, with her slick self, came to my rescue.

Nora is the only somebody I know who carries her own condiments everywhere she goes. I’m talking little packets of ketchup, mustard, soy sauce, Tabasco … you name it and she’s probably got some stashed away in the bottom of her bag.

So I really didn’t think twice about it when I saw her squeezing a packet of hot sauce into the bowl of cheese and salsa dip she was walking around with. But I should have known better than to think that homegirl was going to be deterred from her stated goal of arranging a face-to-face meeting between me and dude before the party was over.

She’d worked her way across the room and had even managed to peep Carl to my presence, only to come up short when sistergirl popped her half-naked booty back into the mix and made it clear that she wasn’t ’bout to let dude go anywhere without her.