Friends and Lovers (38 page)

He was trying to get his mack on, and I was thinking about how he kissed. All tongue. No technique. No emotion. Never kissed just to kiss; only kissed if he was trying to get some. Another one of those brothers who tried to seduce without romanticizing. It hadn’t really mattered before today, but that was another thing I’d tolerated and settled for. Which goes to show that sometimes the things you hoped would get better with time never changed because they were already at their best.

Tyrel kissed slow and deliberate. Used to anyway. Sucked on my neck just because. Made my breasts feel like the best thing on my body. And when his wicked tongue found its way and dropped me off in a land called ecstasy, it was always like he was talking to me. And it wasn’t a hit-it-and-quit-it thang. His tongue had a rhythm that took me deep into the night. Shit, I was getting the shudders just thinking about it.

Richard leaned closer. “You’ll be with me tonight, right?”

“Why?”

“You’re my fiancée. Do I need a reason?”

“Depends. Something wrong?”

“I need some attention.”

“Oh? So what you’re saying is you’re horny.”

Richard said, “Yeah. I want you with me tonight.”

“Anything else?”

He leaned over and whispered, “I feel out of place. You haven’t spent any time with me since we’ve been here. I understand the situation, but don’t leave me stranded.”

I used to really like that selfishness about him. How he wanted me. That greed for me showed up at a time I was indifferent about everything and didn’t feel wanted by anybody. The truth be told, I couldn’t get my shadow to show up on a sunny day. So I needed and deserved that kind of attention. What’s jacked up is, well, it’s odd
how the things that attracted me to somebody could be the exact things that pushed me away.

I opened a manila folder and said, “I’m here for Debra.”

“I know, I know.” Richard lowered his voice, sent his eyes and wonderment toward Alejandria and Bobby, then eased toward me. If I didn’t know any better, I’d think he was trying to mimic the passion they were sharing.

The phone rang and Alejandria went out to get it. Richard said, “And I don’t feel comfortable being here with your ex in the next bedroom. I told you the shit he said about you. He called you a bitch, said you were a ho. And now you’re walking the halls half-dressed.”

I said, “Tyrel’s already seen me butt-naked on payday.”

His tone sparked. “Why’d you say something like that?”

I did one of his numbers: cleared nothing from my throat.

Richard groaned and gave me a harsh look. Then his face softened, became almost childlike.

He said, “We shouldn’t be here, not with him here.”

“You’re right. We shouldn’t be here.”

Richard’s eyes were calling me, but my emotions were off the hook. He gave up a devilish grin, and that was when I saw how much he favored his Nutty Professor-looking momma. He was lurching the same way she did the day he asked me to be his forever.

Richard ran his fingers through my hair.

I said, “Why you so touchy-feely all of a sudden?”

He shrugged, “I was worried about you when you didn’t open the bedroom door. What was up with that?”

“I was busy.” I moved his hand away. “And I’m busy now.”

Alejandria came back yakking in Spanish on the cordless phone. She was barefoot, had on black biker shorts and an oversized T-shirt. No bra, and she had C-cup breasts.

Richard gave me a break just long enough to watch
Alejandria. She went to Bobby. They looked happy. I felt it too.

Richard asked, “Why are you smiling so hard?”

“Better than me frowning. Does my happy face bother you?”

“What is up with you?”

I laughed. Laughed damn hard too.

Richard’s eyebrows furrowed. The brother was confused. Especially when I turned my chair and faced him so fast he jumped. I gave him my sexiest smile, cruised my brown eyes from his head to his feet. Ran my fingers over his beard. It used to feel good against my skin, but now all I could think of was that it always scratched the hell out of my face.

I asked, “What do you see in me?”

Richard twisted his expression. “What do you mean?”

“Why do you want to be with me the rest of your life?”

Richard made seven bewildered faces. “I love you.”

“That’s it?”

“That’s it?”
His eyes moved closer together. “What’s more important than my love for you?”

“All right, fine. You love me. But who am I?”

“What?” Richard strained his face like he was trying to improve his hearing.

I put my face so close our noses touched. I repeated, “Who am I?”

Richard whispered, “What’s wrong with you?”

I jumped back when Debra stuck her face inside the room. Tyrel was behind her. Richard’s hand was slipping back and forth over my leg. I backed away from Richard and made his hand fall free. He put it back. Debra was at the top of the three stairs, rubbing her belly. Her skin was clearer, and my girl came across as being focused, almost as if she was coming to terms with all of the feelings I’d been avoiding.

Debra said a perky “Hello, everybody.”

Tyrel’s dull expression fell across me and Richard. My fiancé squeezed my leg. Tyrel turned around, moved away from the door. What made me feel more bad than
bad was that after all the friendship we shared, I hadn’t really seen Tyrel without gazing through my own neurotic eyes. I hadn’t respectfully looked into his face while I was calm enough to shake his hand and give him a kind word. We shared the same pain but we hadn’t shared condolences. No matter how much he despised me, part of me wanted to gossip with him and see how he was doing, ask how he’d been, regardless of what Richard thought.

Those thoughts dried up when Richard scooted closer and ran his palm up and down my thigh.

“Tyrel?” I called his name over a lump in my throat. Richard’s hand stopped moving. He didn’t let go, he just eased off, acting like a squatter with no rights.

Tyrel stuck his head back into the doorway. First he looked down toward Alejandria. Debra had already waddled down into the den and was hugging everybody, reassuring us that she was fine. Richard tried to ease his hand closer to my crotch.

I spoke my gentlest. “Richard, don’t do that.”

When I moved his claw, he said, “Why?”

I hissed out, “Because Shelby said don’t do that.”

I was damn nervous, but I made it to my feet and sauntered toward the bottom of the steps. My head lowered a touch so I could mark a spot to stop in front of Tyrel. With each step, with every forward movement of my hips, I slid my agitated hands over my hair, then twisted my neck until it popped twice. Before I knew it, I was under the breath of an ex-lover. Standing beneath a fresh pair of designer jeans, hiking boots, pullover shirt. Had stumbled into the zone occupied by Tyrel’s manly-sweet aroma. Tyrel used to wear body lotions with soft fragrances. He’d switched from colognes after I’d bought him some Red Musk lotion. I’d pick out light fragrances, beautiful scents that we’d have to be intimately close to appreciate.

I stared at his dimple and didn’t know what to say. I asked, “How are you holding up?”

Tyrel’s barren gaze went to Richard. Behind me, the room was quiet as hell, like they were waiting for a
bomb to blow us all away. Then I heard the creases in Richard’s jean shirt snapping, but I refused to look back. Wouldn’t be turned around this time.

“Tyrel,” I spoke with a soft, professional voice. “I asked you a question.”

Tyrel’s focus came back to me. His eyes made me nervous as hell, and I shifted my weight a time or two. Dropped my head a little, just enough to steal a view of his bowlegs.

“Okay,” Tyrel responded. “I took Debra to the doctor.”

“That was sweet of you.”

“What are you doing?”

“Returning phone calls.”

“Want me to do that? You and Richard can take a break.”

“No, but thanks.” I barely moved my lips, hardly opened my mouth wide enough for the words to slip out, “How do you like it up in San Francisco?”

The small talk felt so big. Thought the words would be impossible, more difficult than they were, or what I had to say would wither away before I’d traveled this far.

Tyrel was staring at me, strange and strong.

I said, “What’re you looking at?”

“Your neck.”

Damn. I forgot. My hand came up so fast, I slapped the spot like I was swatting a mosquito. Added damage to the damage. I would’ve turned purple, but by then Richard had moved next to me, and was touching the small of my back with his hand. The little smile I had ran away, but my cool stayed behind.

I turned to Richard and released an easy “What’s up?”

“What is going on?” Richard asked. His eyes were moving like he was watching a tennis match at the French Open, darting from me to Tyrel. Then Richard said, “What happened this morning?”

I said, “We did an interview. You saw us.”

He turned to Tyrel, “What happened?”

Tyrel paused for a second, then moved his worn gaze from Richard and said, “Debra, I’ll be back in a little while.”

“No, you’re not going,” I said. “Tyrel, we were talking.”

Tyrel made some disgusted sound. Richard kept bumping up against me. The world wasn’t big enough, so I stepped to the side to gain some space.

“Richard.” I said his name with my eyes on his fists. Richard’s eyes followed mine. He opened his hands. My head was heavy. Nerves tingled. I blew air and frowned at Richard.

“What’s going on?” Richard’s tone was getting a bit too demanding. Damn loud. A bit too strong.

“Don’t raise your voice to Shelby,” Debra snapped. “Not in my house.”

Debra had hopped her beach-ball belly up and was over there with her arms resting on the top of her stomach. Tapping her foot to the beat of her anger.

“Debra, chill,” I said. “All right?”

Even Alejandria had a vicious glower in her eyes. Things were getting trippy, so I eased my hand in a downward motion, like I was a choir director. Alejandria sucked her lips in and cradled back into her man’s arms.

“I apologize,” Richard said while he kept running his hands over his hair. “This is an awkward situation. I don’t want to say anything, but it’s hard when everything is right in your face.”

“Shelby—” Bobby said.

“Everybody, I’m okay. It’s okay,” I reassured. And damn, I was surprised at how calm I was. I hadn’t raised my voice once.

“You okay?” Debra asked. She came to me. “What’s wrong?”

We held hands. I had a hard time finding my voice.

“I’m
really
sorry for being such a problem. I’m sorry for bringing all of this shit to your house.”

“It’s okay.” Debra squeezed my hand. “That’s your style.”

“No, it ain’t.”

Richard stuck one hand in his pocket; the other was on his chin. His momma wasn’t here, so he couldn’t control the situation. Even if Mrs. Vaughn was here, it wouldn’t matter. I had things to say, only I didn’t know how or where to begin, how to drop the four-letter words and phrase what was brewing and boiling in my heart in a reasonable way.

I used my sweetest Shelby voice and sang, “Richard?”

“Yeah?” He stopped pinching his flesh. “You all right?”

“Come with me, sweetheart.”

I sprang up the stairs and bumped by Tyrel without raising my eyes. All I left behind was a weak, “Excuse me.”

Richard followed my swift pace, and we headed through the kitchen and straight outside. I’d crossed the grass by the time Richard came through the back door.

I yelled back, “Pull the door up behind you, please.”

My feet led me to the pool area, through the gate. The deck smelled like chlorine, fresh-cut grass, and a hint of smog. The concrete felt cool under my bare feet. It wasn’t until then that I slowed long enough to dip each foot into the pool. Then I pressed each into the concrete and left my footprints behind. My eyes checked out my chest; my nipples were sticking out like two happy raisins.

Richard snapped, “What’s this all about?”

There was always a little something about his voice that made me feel like I was being challenged. I don’t know how he did it, but he had a way of making me soften my words or change my mind about what I wanted to say. That shit wasn’t gonna happen today.

After he closed the gate, I moved closer, looked him in the face, and got ready to let my mind flow out over my tongue.

There wasn’t much of a breeze now, and cumulus clouds were dawdling in the sky. It wasn’t dark yet, but the moon was in full bloom. The moon was facing the sun. I wondered what that meant. A DC-10 breaking through the clouds and heading toward LAX could
barely be heard. And a helicopter was flying close by, probably hounding somebody down in the Jungle.

I cut to the chase. “I lied to you, but I didn’t lie to you.”

He paused for a second, jerked like he was jarred, then asked, “What do you mean?”

“I mean I lied to you. I called Tyrel.”

“When?”

“Oh, I dunno.” My voice had no real feeling. Numb. I shrugged, “I called him. Maybe twenty, thirty times. Fifty times. Like I said, I dunno. I lost count. Sometimes I’d call from home. I used my calling card and called him from your house a time or two—sorry ‘bout that. Sometimes I’d get the urge and call when I was on a trip. But I
never
talked to him.”

“You called him, but you didn’t talk to him.”

“I’d listen to his voice on his answering machine—”

“From my house?”

“—or if he picked up, I’d get scared and hang up.”

“You called him.” Richard rocked side to side. Everything about him—his posture, his voice, all of it weakened. His face started to shine, glowing with the sweat that was collecting on his forehead. His voice was rigid, but it didn’t faze me. He said, “I already knew. I looked over your phone bills.”

“Hold up. You read my phone bills? You were rummaging through my stuff.”

“I had to know. Something wasn’t right, and I did what I felt like I needed to do. And when I did, I saw your calls to San Francisco. Plus you still had all of the stuff he gave you, all of that bullshit you lied and said you’d thrown away is tucked in the back of your closet. You ran up here every chance you got, never gave me a number where I could reach you. So, it’s not like I didn’t have a reason to be suspicious.”