Chardonnay: A Novel (10 page)

“When did you see him?!”
I said shocked she was just now
saying something.

“About an hour ago.”

“He stayed up there all night?”

“Most.
Stuff got wild and he left.”

“Hmm.”

The lock in the double doors turned and clicked, and Myron walked
in the door. He paused when he looked up and saw me. Saw the anger.

“You up?” he asked.

He moved around me and glanced over at Konstance.

“Where you been?” I asked with my arms folded.

“I told you Nay.” said Konstance.

“Umm, I love you and everything cuz, but shit’s counterfeit around
here. Need to hear it from my man. Nothing against you, just... would you want
Denim getting up in the middle of the night and not call to tell you what’s up?”

“I get it.” she said grabbing her pillow and key card, and then
stormed out. Felt bad for going off on her, it wasn’t her fault I was pissed
and I shouldn’t have taken it out on her. So I looked at Myron as he looked up
at me from the couch. His eyes were black, that cold black, and they drew no
emotion. Knew exactly where they stopped. I swallowed and said, “You promised.”

“Haven’t done anything.
I had to clear my head, and think
about everything.”

I left him alone, but wondered what the hell he had to think
about. Everyone collected their belongings and headed for home. While on the
drive home, the car was silent except for the vibes of Usher’s song Burn. Myron
was definitely feeling the song. He was holding back tears. I wondered what
happened between the night we showed up in Saint Louis and made love and this
morning. Twinkle wasn’t in his eyes anymore. I noticed he had put his hand on
my lap. He looked over at me worried. We pulled over to a diner. Denim and Mystro
honked their horns telling us they were staying on the road to the west. I knew
something was wrong. His breathing was off. He caught it after taking in a few
deep breaths into his inhaler.

“Okay. What are you panicking about?” I asked.

“Love fucking hurts,” his tears rolled.

“Too much to
bare
at times.
Especially
 
when
you
can’t forget the past...no matter how much you try to erase it and start over.”

I sat uncomfortable and removed my seat belt.
Wanted
to crash out that windshield like Joss Stone.
The twinkle in his eyes
spoiled me. I started to feel the burn. Not the seat belt, but the fire ball of
love and agony we were in.

“Char?
You know I love you right?”

Felt it drop, the fire, leaving me lifeless. Spirit only left and
even that was scarred. Spirit had to find a way to oxygen. I couldn’t breathe.

“Yes Myron, baby.
What are you saying?”

Wanted to beg him to go get the water and douse me with it. Save
me again. But I couldn’t fight the wind.

“I just think that maybe we should be alone for a while.
Just to clear our heads.”

No.
Wanted to say no.

“What was the fuckin’ continental breakfast for?”

He didn’t answer.
Now.
I wanted to know
again.
Where the fuck was he?

“If it’s meant to be, we’ll be together in the future.”
Burnt to a crisp.
Damn Usher.

8

Do
What I Do

June
brought a crisp breeze in the air along with a turbulent rush of wind into my
life. Zasmyth’s house was preposterous when I got back from the dysfunctional
Saint Louis field trip Myron schooled me on. Linen was sprawled along the
floors in every room, clothes were on the floor as well and few were in the
laundry basket when I went to the messy bath room. I would later find out that
was actually their clean clothes/dirty clothes system, clean clothes being the
ones in baskets. The kitchen was nasty as all get out from what I was able to
see from the door way due to the notion that I could not step on the crusted
and sticky floors. She walked through the house as if nothing was wrong
however. I pondered why the single family house that was in good condition from
the outside was so stale, dank and moldy on the inside.

By this time Zasmyth noticed my precariousness since I was still
holding on to my luggage Myron thoughtfully dropped off on the curb. She clicked
on the television and looked at me like I was an annoyance.

“Girl
make
yaur self at home!”

She took my bags from me and threw it in a corner. I tip toed over
to the sofa that needed to be dusted and pillows flipped three thousand years
ago sitting slowly down.

“You okay?” she asked.

“Um ya!
Dag, y’all don’t clean around here?”

She looked around her house and
flopped
her hands on her thighs.

“
Me
mother works two jobs—what am I to
do?”

“Clean! No wonder our dorm room looks like it does if I don’t
straighten it up! Damn Zas!”

“Well I don’t clean and my sister doesn’t either. We were raised
not to touch a thing.”

“Well, I was as well but I know how to do it. I’ll help you get
this together so Ms. Aunjadae can come home to a clean house when she gets off from
her night shift at the hospital.”

That evening I helped Zasmyth clean her mother’s home. We mopped
the kitchen floors along with the two bath rooms, cleaned every room speck and
span, dusted and swiped down every lamp and window, and washed every load of
laundry, folded it, and put it away. That house was spotless. We were so tired
we didn’t even remember when we fell to sleep, but we remembered when we woke
up.

Ms. Aunjadae came in at about six in the morning from her
overnight shift. A sheer shriek version of Zasmyth’s name was yelled. We both
jumped up including Zourtni, Zasmyth’s little sister.

“Get yaur blood clot ass
dow
here!”

Zasmyth motioned for me to stay in her room and she and her sister
ran down the stairs. I was scared straight, for what I didn’t know.

I could hear the commotion down stairs.

“
Who done
this! I know it was you two! I
have told ya time aftah time no to touch me things!”

“Ma, we just wanted you to—”

“AAHHHH—
What
happened to me kitchen!
Where are my seasons?”

“Ma, we’re sorry!”

“Ya gone be sorry alright—no one told you to touch my house!”

Needless to say I was going out the back window.

Zasmyth came back in the room before I could make the get a way.

“Where are you going?” she asked.

“Back home...I don’t know.”

“Girl
forget
her. She’ll be over it in
the morning.”

“It is morning.”

“Well, she leave back out at eleven, so chill.”

“Your mother works like that?”

“Uhn huh, how do you think she keeps us in nice schools or in this
neighborhood?”

I shook my head.

“I’m not ever going to work like that,” Zasmyth went on to say.

“That why I work with what I got to get where I want to go.”

“You seriously believe stripping is going to make a difference for
you?” I asked in wonderment.

“Yeah, if I work it right. Let’s take you for instance—your family
has a grip of money, but
they
stopping the money
trucks on you.
Where you gone get the cash?”

I sat and thought to myself. Zasmyth continued with, “And Myron
don’t give a fuck about you...you have to find away somehow. My situation ain’t
no better, girl.”

She made some valid points to me.

She looked me in my eyes and said, “You’re my girl, and I only
want to see ya do good. Stripping is the key to unlock doors that you can’t
even phantom you would have the key to.”

 
I shook my head saying,

“I don’t know why you doing strip clubs anyway you’re too pretty
for that.”

“Chardonnay, sweetie, no one evah does it ‘cause dey too pretty.
You know how menti bad ass chicks strip, makin’ dem ballah’s loose dey minds?!
Shit, for real I do it because mi genuinely likes it. Plus, I don’t have anyone
who loves me. They make me feel good. Feel wanted. It’s a high I get from being
on stage. I can’t explain it.”

Zasmyth looked full of energy. She was radiant and beautiful. I
didn’t understand why she couldn’t find the love she wanted. She could have any
man she wanted, but Gehvoni was her only choice. Could have been prochoice but
was prolife about their non-existing relationship.
                         

“Ever since Voni left you, you’ve been looking for love in all the
wrong places.”

She got silent.

“You’ve talked to him?” I asked.

She sighed and shook her head.

“Ain’t even called me, girl. Hate to think of the reason why. He
called mi two weeks ago and told me he had something to tell me.”

 
She looked uncomfortable
whenever we talked about Gehvoni. Southern boy, buttermilk corn bread fed. Born
in ATL and raised there until the age of eight. His father moved up to Kansas
City with his sister (Myron’s mother). Gehvoni still had that thick accent from
the South but it danced with his Korean father’s language.
 
Husky, but he had a runner’s body. Zasmyth
fell in love at first sight with him when she met him at the Abasi-Lim family
reunion I dragged her to three years ago. Saw him running down a field with
Myron and some of their other cousin’s playing football.

“When was the last time y’all had sex?” I barked out.

“Umm...five months ago.”

I gave Zasmyth a yeah right look and twitched my mouth to the
side.

He wasn’t her first love, but he was the first boy to ever change
her ways, then make them grow back.

“Really?”

“No. I lied. A month ago.” she shook her head then changed the
subject form her imperfections to mine,

“You hear who drafted Myron?”

“No. I really don’t care.”

“I tink you do. You’ve two been together too long Nay for you to
just do him dis way. Regardless of what he’s done... you should still want to
see him successful.”

I sighed and said, “I’ve stopped everything in my life for him.
The charity events, football games and practices, was there when he signed with
Howard, his volunteer work functions, prepped him for the SAT, went to all of
his graduations including this years from undergrad. What do I get? Did he come
to my high school graduation, or read my first published article in Teen People
that I busted my ass interning for? Or how about all the shit I missed to just
be at his?”

After a brief pause I went on to say,

“I missed our last national cheer leading competition because he
was being broad casted for his first college game on ESPN and I was there in
the crowd for him.”

Tears kept welling in my eyes. How did I let Myron gain my free
will?

“It’s hard. I know. Gehvoni works me too. Like a damn slave. But,
Nay
you two are the Will and Jada or Oprah and Steadman for
all of us.
For everyone looking at y’all.
You’ve
always been together
.”

“For one, Will and Jada have had probably less problems than Myron
and I have had in our little nine years together. I was still trying to play
with Barbie dolls when I fell in love with him, yet they were snatched away
from me too.

And even Oprah won’t let Steadman give her his last name! You don’t
have to
define
yourself by these niggas!
Especially
when they act like niggas.”

“That word!”

“You know what I mean.”

“Every relationship comes with a price. You can’t ask back for
everything that you ever gave him—especially the emotional support. And hell,
even if y’all not together, y’all still gonna need that from each other.”
Zasmyth stated.

“I couldn’t do it!” Tears fell from my eyes.
Friends
with Myron?
That would be like dying a slow death to me.

“Why not?
That’s why most break-ups are so bad. One
stocks the other.
The other calling for de pussy.
Y’all
need each other still. If you have a common bond—it won’t be so tempting. There
will be respect.”

I shook my head and digressed.

“You should know, huh?” I asked.

She smirked rolled her eyes.

“No wonder people ask for alimony. Shit takes too much time and
money to just be fucked around like this.
Hell no I’m not
marrying him!”
I ranted.

“New England Patriots.” she whispered.

I looked to Zasmyth in the midst of my rage and held my chest.

“I knew that.
My God.
They hunted him for
his talent for the last two years.
One hundred...million
dollar contract.
Couldn’t give him more because of the
salary cap.”

Zasmyth’s eyes popped out her head. She stood up athirst and kneeled
down at my feet.

“What!”

I looked away from her and wiped my eyes.

“Chardonnay, that’s a lot of fucking monni!
Ya
crazy gurl!”

“I
Would
rather be with a poor, faithful,
and hustling man than a rich cheating one. Myron doesn’t care about me.”

“I would think the same as well, but when I think about it—it
seems he’s been torn about y’all. Myron is about to go to the NFL. He could get
any women he wanted.”

“Yeah that’s what he told me.”

“So?”

“So? It’s about not wanting to disappoint his family.
Their traditions, not me.”

“Call it what cha want! That man loves you.”

“Zas?
I need to tell you something.” I said as my voice cracked.

“Whassup, girl?”

“Myron tried to rape me after I told him about Slim.”

“WHAT! What do you mean
tried
to rape you?”

“Well he actually got in...
but
the weird
part is I feel confused about it. I don’t know what to call it.”

“So are you telling me you
liked
it?”

“No—no...
well
I guess. As much as a
struggled, I began to feel a sort of combustion inside my pussy and I shook all
over.”

Zasmyth smirked at me and said, “
It’s
okay. What you experienced is called an orgasm.”

I looked up at her out the corner of my eyes and said, “I didn’t
know you could get one from any high or low level of emotion.”

“Well that’s loves gift.”

“It’s one crazy gift.”

I awoke to my cell phone ringing off the hook the next morning and
my back aching from sleeping on the hard wood floors. When I answered the phone
Slim began his bitching.

“Aye ma—where you been?!”

“To myself.”

“Like you always do.
You never called me and told me
you were okay. I see you and
My
back on the skirts.”

“It ain’t like that.”

“Yeah, cause he dropped yo ass again. When is it gone stop? When
are you going to stop letting him do the same shit to you like he the only man
created for you?” Slim asked with hostility in his tone.

“That’s none of your business, plus I thought he was your boy. Why
you still chasing me?”

“Like I told you...because I care. But that’s what you
want...someone to cheat on you and make you cry.”

I sat up and leaned on the edge of Zasmyth bed thinking about what
Slim was saying.

“I just can’t seem to let go sometimes. How come you...”

“What, care so much,” he chuckled.

“Cause I been down wit
chu
from day one
even when you wasn’t down wit me.”

“How did you know I was in Saint Louis?” I said as an
afterthought.