I Left My Back Door Open (31 page)

“Right, funky goat!“ Sharon said, clinking his glass.

“It's nice that they've bonded.” I smiled.

Ivy asked, raising an eyebrow, “You let him call you a funky goat?”

“Yeah,” Sharon answered nonchalantly. “One day we were at a restaurant and ‘Midnight Train to Georgia' came on. Ryan and I started using the utensils for microphones.”

“I hope it wasn't a nice restaurant,” Ivy said.

“Oh, Aunt Ivy, it wasn't the Ritz.”

“They thought they were the Pips.” Michelle smiled.

“Michelle even joined in with us.”

“It was contagious,” Michelle said. “Besides, I was the only one who could really sing.”

“You were no Gladys Knight.”

“And you all were no Pips.”

“Sharon doesn't have a bad singing voice,” Aunt Ivy countered. “She soloed once in the junior choir.”

“Anyway,” Sharon said hastily, as if in an effort to keep the peace, “Ryan said that we needed to have a name, and Michelle named us Triple Virgo and the Funky Goats. Ryan and I are both Capricorns.”

“He could get out in public and call you a funky goat.” Aunt Ivy sniffed like she was smelling something bad. “People will think he's trying to say that you stink.”

I gulped my wine. I just wanted everthing to be pleasant.

Michelle cleared her throat. “I called them funky goats because they were soulful, not because they stank,” she said sheepishly.

“You just got finished saying they couldn't sing,” Aunt Ivy reminded her.

“You can be soulful without being able to sing,” I suggested diplomatically.

“Not if you can't carry a tune,” Aunt Ivy argued.

“Remember, Michelle, that night after Ryan took a bath, he came running out the bathroom shouting, ‘Now I'm a clean goat!'” Sharon said, inadvertently adding fuel to the fire.

“See, he thought you meant they were funky, too,” Aunt Ivy said, facing Michelle. “That proves my point.”

Sharon shot Michelle a look that said, “I didn't mean to dig you deeper into the hole.”

“I really just meant
soulful
,” Michelle pleaded.

Just then, the telephone rang, and I almost said, “Saved by the bell.” I was surprised when Sharon returned to the living room and handed me the cordless phone.

“Hello,” I said, hoping it was my man.

It was.

“Happy Thanksgiving,” Skylar answered.

“Happy Thanksgiving to you,” I murmured. “I'll take it upstairs,” I said over my shoulder.

“Go in T's room, if you the want the most privacy.”

“It's so nice to hear your voice,” I said, pushing T's half open door.

I decided that I didn't want to be surrounded by clutter and the aroma of old banana peels, so I went into Sharon's room instead.

“Well, Allison has gone and had surgery,” Skylar informed me.

“Gone and had surgery?” I asked, cradling the phone. “How do you
go
and have surgery?”

“She's still dealing with the aftermath of the car accident. She had the pins taken out of her ankle.”

“On Thanksgiving?”

“It was actually yesterday. I just found out today. The hospital wants to release her, but somebody has to pick her up.”

“Where does she plan to stay?”

“That's just it. She plans to go back to Indianapolis tomorrow. She just wants to stay here tonight. Her mother's boyfriend says he'll come and get her.”

I felt myself getting tense. I'd been patient, but now I was through being patient. I was afraid that once Allison got holed up in Skylar's apartment, he would never be able to get her out. “Why is it that I'm starting to feel like a guest on the Jerry Springer show?” I said.

“What to you mean?”

“You say it's over between you and Allison, right?”

“It is.”

“So, let it be over.”

“She only wants to stay here one night.”

“That's what she says now. Once she gets her foot in the door, no pun intended, you can't just put her out in the street, especially in her condition.”

“I told you, her mother's boyfriend will come and get her tomorrow. He's pretty dependable, when he's sober.”

I sighed. I didn't have time for any bullshit. I chose not to go into social work for a reason. “Skylar, you're setting yourself up.”

“How?” he asked innocently.

“Why would Allison's mother's boyfriend run here to get her, especially during the holidays? He might take his own sweet time. She's not an asset, she's a liability. They were probably glad to unload her.”

“They know she can't stay here indefinitely.”

“Why not? She's with her family. Brianna is her own flesh and blood. The woman is almost forty years old. She's not a child, she's already been raised. They probably figure the two of you will get back together. Why would they break their necks to interfere with that?”

“I just hate to turn my back on Allison in this condition. She
is
my daughter's mother.”

“Why is it your responsibility? Why not let the hospital take responsibility? And why can't her mother's boyfriend come here today? The roads are not closed.”

“It
is
Thanksgiving.”

“Tomorrow, it will be something else,” I predicted. “It will be raining or snowing, or the car will break down, or he'll be sick or have to work. They could make excuses from now until Easter. You are just enabling Allison,” I charged. “Once they release her to you, she'll be your responsibility, period.”

“No, she won't,” Skylar replied weakly.

“Just mark my words,” I said, firmly. “Allison must have known she was having surgery when she came back to Chicago. How was she going to get established, knowing that she had to recover from that?”

“You do have a point.”

“You damn straight, I have a point.”

“Dee Dee, I just need to meditate on this,” Skylar pleaded, wearily.

“Well, go ahead and meditate. You have to do what you think is right for you.

“But I've given you my opinion. And it's only fair for me to inform you that your actions will have consequences.”

“I can understand that.”

“If you open your door to Allison tonight, and she's not out of there tomorrow, then I will have to meditate on what's right for me.”

I walked through Sharon's bedroom into the master bathroom, still carrying the portable phone. After freshening up in the mirror, I noticed a lavender-colored statue of a goddess on the vanity. I picked it up and rubbed my fingers across its smooth surface. I thought it was odd for a statue to be made out of a rubbery substance. I heard voices coming toward me. It was Sharon and Michelle.

“I can't believe we're actually alone. I've wanted to kiss you so badly.”

“Me too, oh me too,” Sharon moaned.

I was about to reveal myself before they went too far when I realized that the statue I was fondling was actually a dildo. I froze. Feeling awkward, I was debating whether to wash my hands, or the figurine or both, when I heard the bedroom door shut. I felt trapped. There was no way that I could make a graceful exit at this point. What if Sharon remembered that she'd left the dildo out and felt embarrassed that I'd seen it? Michelle and I didn't know each other
that
well.

I glanced through the slit in the partially open bathroom door. Sharon and Michelle were kissing all over each other's faces and necks. I quietly set the dildo back on the vanity to wait it out.

“I fantasized about spreading mashed potatoes and gravy all over your breasts and then nibbling those giblets,” Sharon said playfully.

“Oh, you are sooo hot!” Michelle exclaimed.

“Then I would take that whipped cream you brought for the sweet potato pie and squirt it between your thighs and lick it off. Mmm, mmm.” Sharon stuck her tongue way out and continued to make exaggerated sounds.

“You're really turning me on!” Michelle cooed. “Baby, I'm on fire!”

I was beginning to feel a little warm in the peanut gallery myself.

“Can you believe how naughty we're being right now?” Michelle giggled. “Our guests have no idea what we're up to. That makes it an even bigger turn-on. I wonder what Miss Manners would say.”

“You think we have time for a quickie?” Sharon asked mischievously, thrusting her pelvis playfully against Michelle's and cupping her backside.

I almost flushed the toilet in protest.

“The lavender goddess is in the bathroom,” Sharon added seductively.

I cringed.

“I much prefer the goddess that's in my arms,” Michelle said, to my relief. She planted little kisses on Sharon's puckered lips. “Too bad I have to go to my parents' place tonight,” she lamented. “At least you get to visit with Dee Dee. I like her, she seems nice.”

I couldn't help but smile.

“Dee Dee is a great friend, but you know I'd much rather be with you.”

I couldn't help but frown.

“Baby, we'll get together soon,” Michelle murmured.

“Yeah, we'd better get back downstairs. It can only take so long to find some pictures. Thank goodness Aunt Ivy and Dee Dee are both long-winded.”

I bit my tongue to keep from defending myself.

“Aunt Ivy is probably still telling Ryan one of her stories.”

“Yeah, but Dee Dee might be off the phone soon.”

“She might've gone back downstairs, but I think she's still in Tyeesha's room.”

“Okay, one more long, juicy, uhm, uhmm, uhmm, kiss.”

“Sharon, you awaken feelings in me that I never knew I had.”

“Ditto.”

“I'll never look at mashed potatoes and gravy the same way again. Not to mention whipped cream,” Michelle added breathlessly.

My undies were slightly in a bunch when I left the room after Sharon and Michelle departed. And it was really hard for me to keep a straight face when Sharon ladled the gravy over Michelle's mashed potatoes at the dinner table with a wink.

Sharon and I rinsed the last of the dishes and packed them into the dishwasher. Everyone else had said their good-byes. Aunt Ivy had survived her first Thanksgiving with lesbians, and so had I.

I waddled into the living room and stretched out across a chair, feeling as stuffed as the furniture. Sharon and I continued our kitchen conversation about Skylar.

“Girl, people do what they wanna do. You can't change Skylar or anybody else. And if he's co-dependent, you sure as hell can't rescue him. Rescue animals, not people.”

“I'm not trying to rescue Skylar. I just hate ambiguity, that's all. I hate not knowing the real deal.”

Sharon raised her eyebrows. “Maybe you know it, but you just don't want to see it.”

“Everything is not black and white, Sharon. The envelope keeps being pushed, the line keeps moving. First, Allison was gonna stay in a hotel, then one night at Skylar's place turned into almost two weeks. Skylar finally put his foot down. I thought it was settled, but now she's trying to weasel her way back in. And of course, now Allison's needier than ever and only Skylar can save her,” I said in a mocking tone.

“You don't need this mess, do you?”

“Of course not. I'm not a drama queen. But I love Skylar, and my heart tells me to just hang tough.”

“What does your head tell you?”

I paused and closed my eyes. “That Skylar is a decent guy, he's just been presented with a curveball. I really want to believe him when he says it's over between them. I really do.” I bit my bottom lip. “I don't want to go through my whole life not ever trusting a man,” I said plaintively.

Sharon gave me a sympathetic look. “I can understand that, but I just hope that he's worthy of your trust. I just hope you're not ignoring the red flags.”

“I'm not ignoring them. I'm monitoring them,” I insisted. “Hey, I thought you were in Skylar's corner.”

“Dee Dee, I'm in
your
corner. I only know Skylar through you. And, based on what I've heard, I'm still willing to give him the benefit of the doubt.”

“By the way, I like Michelle.”

Sharon smiled. “I thought you two would hit it off. She likes you, too. Dee Dee, she's really been good for me. And Ryan and I have really gotten tight.”

“I'm glad.”

“He's like the son I never had. I always wanted a boy and a girl.”

“Yeah, me, too. But it just might not have been meant to be for me.”

“You do have Langston,” Sharon reminded me.

“Yeah.” I shrugged. “Well, I better get home and feed my boy.”

“Girl, take some of this food home with you,” Sharon said as the phone rang.

I fixed a plate, while Sharon chatted with Tyeesha.

“T's having a ball,” she reported after settting down the cordless phone. “She says she's stuffed. She told me to tell you hi, and she'll see you at belly dance class.” Sharon smiled.

“I'm glad she's having a good time.”

“Chile, she says her grandma and aunts really cooked up a storm. T said her daddy's been parked in front of the TV watching football most of the time. But T says they're getting along fine.”

“You think T will tell Victor about your being a lesbian?” I almost whispered for no reason.

“No. But the truth be told, once back in the seventies, Victor and I got high on some weed and he suggested that we do a threesome with another woman,” Sharon divulged. “He even brought your name up.”

“No, he didn't!” I protested. “Girl, you need to quit.”

“Yes, he did, too. If I'm lying, I'm flying.”

“Victor was wasting his breath,” I said.

“
I
was the one who wasn't interested.” Sharon giggled. “Victor was ready.”

“It sounds like he can't protest too much if T does tell him about you, then.”