Feelin' the Vibe (13 page)

She made a face as if she couldn’t imagine what could be so serious. I smiled to lighten the mood some. “I saw Devin today.”

She nearly popped up off the couch. “Devin? Your college boyfriend, Devin?”

My college boyfriend.
That seemed to belittle his significance, but I nodded in agreement. She shook her head as if my seeing him was bad news.

“Ma, don’t worry. It was innocent.”

“Innocent. Clark, who do you think you’re fooling? That boy hurt you so bad, I never thought you’d be with anyone else. So,
where did you see him? What’s he doing?”

“Running for Congress.”

Her mouth dropped open. “United States Congress?”

I nodded.

“Clark, that’s good. He’s not married anymore, is he?”

“Not to the same girl, but he’s remarried.” I noticed disappointment in her face. “He’s having an event for at-risk girls,
and I’m going to take my girls and—”

“I don’t think you should.”

“That’s what I came to ask you. I mean, the visit was innocent, but I still felt butterflies when I saw him. Is that normal?
After so many years, does that ever go away?”

“Not when you really love somebody. And it’s just playing with fire to hang around someone like that.”

The sound of the garage door opening alarmed us. She said, “That’s Reggie, and Lord knows we can’t talk when he gets in here.”

“Yeah, I know. So, you think I should just stay away from him?”

“Kenny is a good man who loves you and wants nothing more than to have another group of kids and a happy, long marriage with
you. You’d be a fool to go out here and sneak around on him for someone who proved a long time ago that they didn’t give a
damn about you.”

Her words hurt, and if Reggie hadn’t bounced through the side door, I may have started crying.

“If I would have known you were coming downtown, I would have taken you to dinner with me,” Reggie said, smiling.

“If you call me sometimes, then you can find out.”

I stood to give him a hug, wrapping my arms around his expensive black suit. His clean-shaven face felt like sandpaper when
I kissed his cheek. He couldn’t resist the urge to mess in my hair. I returned the gesture and rubbed my hand in his black,
curly, low-cut hair. He kissed my forehead and I sat back down. Then he went over to the couch and leaned down to give my
mother a kiss. “Hey, baby girl.”

“Hey, Reg. How was your day?”

Reggie said, “The regular. Fantastic. Where’s Little Reggie?” Before we could answer, he scoped the room and squinted. “Why
y’all in here looking suspect?”

My mother said, “Boy, go somewhere. I’m talking to my daughter.”

He loosened his tie and headed out of the room. “As long as y’all not talking about me.”

“We should be,” I said jokingly.

My mother curled her lips. “Now that one right there, any woman he meets ought to strap on her running shoes.” She shook her
head. “I’m just glad that Little Reggie’s car comes so early, ’cause God knows it’s a different woman every night. I mean,
he shows me enough respect to creep them out of here. But he ain’t serious about nothing and nobody.”

I nodded. Reggie got married to Sheena almost six months after Tanisha died, but their marriage began with drama. They got
married, primarily because they had spent nearly fifty thousand dollars by the time Sheena realized Tanisha’s boyfriend killed
her because she and Reggie were still sleeping together. Initially, she called the wedding off, but, just like Reggie, she’s
a stockbroker, too. When she started calculating the investment, she was going to get a return. God only knows why it made
sense to her to just do it, but she did. It was over almost as it began. They fought it out for nearly four years, but one
day they were both adult enough to walk into their million-dollar condo in New York and admit they were together for the possessions
and the possibility of earning millions together, but the love was never there. They were still good friends, but unlike Tanisha,
Sheena was not letting Reggie sneak into her bedroom when he felt inspired. And I wasn’t even certain he was interested.

It was as if my mother was warning me of the ways of men and reminding me that of everything my husband was and wasn’t, he
was never a pussy hound—and that’s more than I can say for most men. I debated in my mind, but neither was Devin. He was a
one-woman man, a consummate monogamist, that was his biggest problem.

Reggie came back downstairs, and I stood up and walked into the kitchen. He began to brag about a deal that he just closed.
“Yeah, man. I just closed with the CEO of an ad agency downtown. I mean, their profits are over five million a year. Man,
Clark, your brother is the man.”

“I know.”

He opened his wine cooler. “C’mon, celebrate with me. Whatchu want, red… white?” He stopped abruptly. “I’m sorry. I forgot.”

“No, it’s okay. Let’s have Chardonnay.”

I hadn’t even been able to drink in a while because we were trying and I didn’t want to make a mistake. But I was ready to
live again. He tilted his head and smiled. “Word?”

“Word.”

“Yo, that’s what’s up.”

“Just pour the wine.”

He put the wine under his fancy electronic bottle opener and grabbed two wineglasses from the see-through charcoal cabinets.
As he spun around and placed a glass in front of me, he asked, “You sure?”

“Sure what?”

“You can drink, punk. That’s what.”

I laughed, because I was acting like
he
was crazy for asking, but
I’d
been the one normally acting strange, checking my calendar to see if I could or not.

“Yes, Reggie. Just pour the damn wine.”

As he poured, he went on about this being a nearly one-hundred-dollar bottle of wine. I rolled my eyes. He held his glass
up to mine. “You toast, ’cause I’ll be talking forever.”

“Exactly.” I cleared my throat and thought about what I wanted to toast to. “Well, I would like to toast to…”

Just as I started, it seemed like my mother turned the volume on the TV up to the limit. I turned to see what the hell her
problem was. Then I realized she wasn’t paying us any attention.
American Idol
had just come on. So I continued. “To being true to yourself, against all odds.”

“Yo, what’s up with you?”

“Just drink, damn it.”

He threw back a gulp and I followed suit, cracking up inside. This expensive wine tasted just as good as my cheap wine. It
seemed like after two good swallows I began to feel a buzz, and suddenly I got the giggles about everything that came out
of his mouth.

He joked, “Yo, Clark. I miss you, man.”

“What!”

“This Clark disappeared a long-ass time ago.”

It was strange that I was here covering my pain and hurt, and he thought I was happy. Finally, I said, “I saw Devin. You remember
him?”

He said, “Yeah!”

From his expression, it seemed as if he was more excited to hear about him. Which was a surprise, because he hated him when
we were together. He continued, “I saw him a few years back on the train when I was moving back down here.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I mean, I didn’t think you needed to know. He’s doing alright for himself. He was a cool cat.”

“
A cool cat
? Reggie, you beat him up in the club.”

“Yeah, man. That wasn’t cool. We actually had a real good talk on the train. I never really gave him a chance.”

“Why?”

“I don’t know. You know, I was always the man around here, and maybe I just wasn’t ready to share my shine.”

I wanted to jump across the bar and knee him in his balls. For years, I questioned what he saw in Devin that I didn’t see.
“Reggie, are you serious?”

“Yeah, I guess. I don’t even know.”

How could he be so selfish? It was personal. It was never about me. I was pissed. Why was I feeling these strong emotions
about a situation that could not be changed? I took a deep breath and convinced myself that the outcome would have been the
same whether Reggie liked him or not.

I lifted my glass. “You’re an asshole. Pour me another one.”

“I used to be an asshole.”

We laughed as we sipped our third glass of wine. My mother stood up and came in the kitchen with us. “I’m going to sleep.
Clark, I hope you don’t plan on driving home in that condition.”

By the time I had my fourth glass of wine, I didn’t even want to go home. Although my evening had been slightly emotional,
as I drank and giggled with my brother, I felt happy. I didn’t need to go home and ruin my mood. I checked my cell phone,
assuming Kenneth had called several times. No missed calls. I contemplated what I wanted to say, and finally I dialed.

He picked up and I said, “Hey.”

“Hey.”

“I’m at Reggie’s.”

“I know. You sent me a text.”

I’d literally been in the daze after I left Devin, I didn’t remember. “Well, we had too much to drink and I think I’m going
to stay here.”

“Okay.”

“Not unless you want to come get me.”

“It seems like you should be more responsible than to drink so much that you can’t drive.”

“Well, I did, so—”

“I hope that’s not what you’re using as a coping mechanism.”

I frowned at the phone and wanted to burst out laughing, but I knew that would infuriate him more. He clearly needed to find
a coping mechanism, because it felt like a stranger was in my house and he was getting on my damn nerves. He needed an outlet
so he could stop taking his frustration out on me. I decided to kill him with kindness. I said, “I know, baby. You’re right.
I love you.”

“Thank you.”

My eyes shifted. I stuttered momentarily. Then I recalled the advice he always shared with others. That you won’t always feel
love for your partner, and for the sake of not lying to them, don’t say
I love you, too
if that’s not what you feel at the moment. I mouthed, “Thank you.”

Maybe the expensive wine I was drinking had some miracle ingredients, because it just rolled off me. Or was it the thought
of Devin’s strong arm around my shoulder that made his silent treatment not so effective?

“Kenneth, you’re welcome. See you tomorrow.”

I held my cell phone in my hand, still feeling the sting of his words or lack thereof. My recent calls lit up the screen after
the call ended. DP was in the list and I wished I could call him. I checked the time and was certain that he was home relaxing
with his wife. I couldn’t resist the urge, so I sent him a text message:
IT WAS SO GOOD TO SEE YOU TODAY
.

T
aylor and I rested in bed, watching
Law & Order: SVU
, when my cell phone buzzed on the nightstand. She sucked her teeth and I knew it was Curtis, reminding me of the nine o’clock
meeting with the executive board for the Girl Power seminar. Finally, Taylor said, “Go ahead and get it. I know you want to.”

“Nah, I’m cool.”

“No, go ahead. I’m used to it. My new husband is now married to his campaign manager.”

Every muscle in her body tightened as I stroked her shoulders. I knew she had an attitude and I thought we’d gotten past this,
but obviously not. I huffed, “Taylor, look, I really don’t need your sarcasm.”

She turned her back to me. “And I really don’t need your phone blowing up all evening long.”

“So, why don’t you get involved in the campaign? That way we’ll be in this together.”

She sat up. “Devin, I told you that I’ll support you, but this is not my dream. It’s yours. I don’t feel like running around
doing a bunch of damn community service and just being plain old phony.”

She spoke with emphasis, like she wholeheartedly was against my mission and against me. I said, “Damn.”

There was nothing left for me to say. I leaned over to grab my phone and damn near dropped it when I saw
C WINSTON
. I got out of bed and headed for the guest room. When I lay down on the bed, I stared at her message, trying to read between
the lines. I wondered where she was and if she was somewhere in her house or her husband was somewhere around. After turning
the television on, I texted her back:
I WOULD LOVE TO SEE YOU AGAIN
.

I sat there for nearly ten minutes, hoping for a response, and nothing. Just as I dozed off, the phone buzzed again. She responded:
WHEN
.

I thought before responding. Then I wrote what I felt:
TOMORROW
.

HIT ME TOMORROW AND LET ME KNOW
.

I was glad that Taylor had left me alone, because I dozed off with a smile on my face. Although I wasn’t totally sure where
we were headed, all I knew was that I wanted more of whatever time she had.

The iHome speaker in my bedroom went off around seven-thirty as usual. Taylor let the music play for a while before getting
out of bed. I lay still, staring out the window and planning a date with Clark in my mind, when Taylor swung the guest door
open.

“Devin, I’m sorry.”

With my back to her I said, “Taylor,
sorry
is an action word.”