My Daughter's Boyfriend (26 page)

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Authors: Cydney Rax

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Tracey 28

Once the after-Christmas sales hit, I made a trip out to
West Oaks mall. I found a pair of Anne Kleins and a pair of Sporto shoes; then I went straight to Foley’s and charged some sixty-dollar Liz Taylor perfume, a cute black-and-white backpack, three pairs of jeans, and two holiday sweater vests. I waited in line to purchase a few gift boxes, took every item to the gift wrapping cart located in the middle of the mall, and had everything wrapped separately at five bucks a pop.

Lugging all my packages, I smiled and thought,
Lauren will really
enjoy these things; she loves getting gifts and I just know she’ll like them.

NEW YEAR’S EVE STARTED OUT QUIET. Aaron wanted us to hang out downtown for a change, but because of the Y2K uncertainties, I insisted we stay close to home.

“Scared. Chicken. Quack, quack,” he said.

“Excuse me. Ducks quack, not chickens!”

Instead of answering, he shoved me onto the living room couch and crawled on top of me. I squirmed underneath his body, and got a little heated up when I felt his hardness pressing against me. We hadn’t done anything in a while; I guess we were subconsciously trying to prove that our relationship was built on something more than sexual intimacy. With our holding back going beyond six days and counting. I felt there was nothing left to prove.

“Get naked,” I commanded, and started pulling Aaron’s shirttail from his pants.

“I’m yours tonight, baby. Do whatever you want to do to me.”

“Oh, goodie,” I squealed. I had Aaron get totally naked and I stripped down to my socks.

“Woman, take those damn socks off your feet. I can’t suck your toes if you have socks on.”

“Yes, you can and you will. You’ll do whatever I tell you to do.”

“Yes, ma’am,” he replied and leaned back on the couch with his hands clasped behind his head.

I waved bye-bye at Aaron and began walking backward toward the kitchen.

“Where you going?” he asked.

“Don’t ask questions. Just listen for my commands and do what I say.”

I went to the refrigerator and poured a tall glass of pink lemonade. Aaron watched me carry the glass, and I knelt by his side. I gulped a few swallows of the cold beverage until remnants were spilling from my mouth. He was still watching me, bobbing his head, grinning and laughing at the same time.

His manhood looked mega-solid and I thought,
Great!
When I took him inside my mouth, he jerked and moaned. But after a while he relaxed, started pumping and gyrating his hips while I sucked him, swallowing the sugary drink and then loving him with all my mouth.

“Tracey, I
knew
I liked you. Damn, baby, why you been holding back on a brother?” He moaned and twisted and I smiled within from seeing how much he enjoyed himself. Once I was done with that, I started doing an oral dance that extended from his forehead to the nape of his neck; I made my way to his ears, his shoulders, his waist, in between his thighs, and all the way down his legs until I kissed, licked, and sucked on his smooth toes. They curled in my mouth, fighting me with all their little might. I laughed and turned Aaron on his stomach, kissing and biting him on his butt, which was thick and solid, but still as smooth as a baby’s bottom.

“Damn, Tracey, okay, I can’t take this anymore,” he yelled, wriggling his body.

“Where’s a condom?”

“Hell if I know. Call Target and ask a salesclerk. Tracey, baby, would you
please
turn me over right now?”

“No.” I was holding him down with my left hand.

“I’m about to stick my foot up your—”

“No!”

“Don’t you care that I’m about to explode? Now stop playing, woman.”

“I’m not playing.”

He jerked his torso like a sickly fish on Galveston Beach.

“Please, baby,
please
let me come inside you. Please, please,” he asked, struggling to turn over and look at me.

Giggling, I felt my heart race with dangerous excitement. I spread out on the floor, opened my legs, and caught my breath as Aaron wiggled and forced his way inside. He pushed himself into me, inch by inch, deeper and deeper, until he filled me as tight as a hand fills a latex glove. I grabbed his head, squeezing him every time he thrust inside me. And I cried, jerked, and talked about things that didn’t make any sense.

“Ooohhhhh, baby, you give good love, Aaron, you know that, ouch, ohhh, hurts so good. Oh, I love how you feel inside me, don’t ever leave me, ouch, ouch, ouch, that felt good.”

My orgasm rewound itself at least four times. And for the first time I didn’t let out a bloodcurdling scream. I melted while he held me, felt like two separate bodies merged into one, a singular unit, with nothing more to come between us.

As we collapsed in each other’s arms, I could say with assurance that the New Year definitely started out with a bang.

THE REST OF JANUARY FLOWED
like a river. Lauren returned from Georgia. I gave her the gifts and her attitude was distant, but at least she was still speaking to me. Like we’d previously agreed, Aaron no longer came by the apartment. He’d taken to calling me at my job, and I’d have to rush and close my office door so we could get our love jones on. We’d talk on the phone a couple times a day, and I’d see him twice a week. Sometimes at his place, other times at a restaurant or a scaled-down Marriott, when I had the time and the funds.

I tried not to mention Aaron when in Lauren’s presence. She just threw herself into her schoolwork, still going to band rehearsals, photography workshop, hanging out with Regis, and keeping to herself. Some nights she wouldn’t come home at all, but I’d call Regis and that’s where she’d be, which was fine with me. I enjoyed the solitude, felt more relaxed, and was free to talk to Aaron on the phone without being forced to steal away to my walk-in closet.

One night my stomach lurched with violence. I clutched it and squeezed a few times, hoping that would ease my discomfort. And even after it seemed my health was on the upswing, moments later I’d rush to sit on the toilet, flush, and return to my room, just to have to jump out of the bed and race back to the bathroom. When it seemed it was safe to go out, I decided to make a quick trip to the twenty-four-hour Walgreen’s. It was around ten-thirty and I was sleepy, but I threw on some jogging pants, slapped a golf cap on my head, and jumped in the Malibu.

If you were to base your judgment on all the cars that were in the parking lot, you could assume that Walgreen’s was having a late-night dollar sale. As I walked toward the entrance, I heard a man loudly singing, “Float, float on. Float on. Float on.” I looked up and saw a short, three-hundred-pound Chinese dude singing the Floaters’ biggest hit. He was snapping his fingers and saw me looking at him. The dude winked and I gave him the black-power sign and rushed into the store.

Once I’d selected some diarrhea medicine, I decided to search for a greeting card for a coworker whose birthday was coming up. On the way there, I passed by the aisle where all the baby food, diapers, and infant products are stocked. I saw just one shopper in the aisle, but the profile of the person made me do a double-take.

I was surprised yet not surprised to see him there. At first I started to keep on going and act like I didn’t see him, but changed my mind. When I walked up to him, he didn’t notice me. His knees were bent and his shoulders inclined forward while he examined the shelves.

I asked, just to see what he’d say. “What are you doing in the baby aisle, Steve?”

He looked from the baby food to me, to his basket, and back at me again. “I—uh—uh—I—”

“I—uh—uh nothing. I heard you were going to be a father.”

He looked confused like he was trying to figure out who spread his business.

“Lelani told me.”

“Oh,” he replied, and shifted his eyes.

“You know, I really can’t picture you being a daddy, Steve, but I guess it happens to most men at some point in their lives.”

“Uh, yeah.”

“Why didn’t you tell me you were going to be a father the last time we spoke on the phone?”

He straightened his posture and forced out a stingy little grin. “Hey, I—I—I
was
going to tell you, but
you
didn’t want to see me, remember?”

“Save it, Steve.”

He gave me an “oh, well” shrug and continued reading baby-food labels.

“So, do you know if the baby’s going to be a boy asshole or a girl asshole?”

He glared at me like he wished I would just go away. But I looked straight at him and didn’t blink.

“Okay, Steve, sorry.” I laughed. “That was a low blow. But seriously, boy or girl?” I asked, offering him a sweet smile.

He sputtered, “I have no idea. Lani probably knows, though.”

“Hmmm, I guess that would make sense, being she’s the mother.”

Instead of responding, he deposited a half-dozen jars of baby food and a small pack of diapers into a shopping basket. Then Steve walked down the aisle and disappeared without saying good-bye.

I rolled my eyes and wondered why I’d ever wasted my time trying to hold on to him. Then I decided to go search for a decent but inexpensive birthday card. While trying to pick out something, I also spotted various greeting card lines and thought about how I used to buy Steve sentimental products just to be doing something, trying to show him how special he was to me. I had it so bad for him, spending four bucks on cards that he probably rushed to open just to see if there was some money inside. I’m sure he pretended to read the words, and then threw the card up on a shelf somewhere so it could collect dust.
No more,
I thought.
I’m glad
I’m not the woman I used to be and I don’t have to try and prove something to someone who doesn’t really deserve me.

Soon after finding something suitable, I entered the checkout line. I saw Steve one aisle over, standing next to a woman who was holding a four-month-old baby. The woman looked like she was a size sixteen, had on a multicolored smock, and her hair was bundled in a red bandanna. The woman was smiling and cooing at the baby. “See Daddy. Peaches, can you see Daddy? Poor thing, too bad she’s allergic to tapioca, but this applesauce should do just fine.” Instead of acting like he didn’t know what the hell the woman was talking about, he got all friendly and grazed his nose against the baby’s cheek. “Give Daddy a smile, Peaches.”

My box of medicine crashed to the floor. I bent over to get it and looked up.

The woman appeared content, secure. How did she manage to do that, I wondered.

“Baby, hey, baby, put the
National Enquirer
in the basket, okay?” she said, gesturing at Steve.

Ain’t this nothing?

“Hey, baby, Peaches is a little bit fussy. I’m going to wait for you in the car, all right?” She kissed the big baby on his cheek, then bundled their daughter and departed from the store.

Steve placed his items on the counter and paid for them. He turned around and noticed me standing a couple of customers behind him.

“Hey, you still here?” he asked.

I brushed past two old ladies and looked up at Steve. He didn’t have on glasses tonight. Maybe he got smart and bought some bitch-proof contact lenses.

He started walking away with his packages, and extended his thumb and index finger next to his ear as if to say, “Call me.”

“Who’s the baby food for, Steve, you and Lani’s baby? The one that’s still in her womb? Or is this for some other fool’s baby?” I said, wanting to yell but being wise enough not to do so.

He lowered his head, rolled his eyes, and scurried out of the store like a little Fifth Ward rat.

Just looking at Steve Monroe made me raise my head to the ceiling and exclaim, “Thank God for answering this prayer. The camel’s back is now broken.”

Feeling happy yet anxious, I paid for my items, fled to the Malibu, and listened to my tires violently kiss the asphalt while I raced from the parking lot.

“WHAT UP?” HE ASKED, BARELY
opening the door as I stood before him.

“I know I should have called first, but I had something on my mind and wanted to see you.”

He looked at me, perplexed, not budging.

“Aaron, is this a bad time?” My voice cracked.

He sighed and motioned for me to follow him outside. We walked through the parking lot until we were standing underneath a flickering streetlight that winked at us every few seconds.

“What’s—what’s going on, Aaron?” My hands found the comforting place of my hips and I stared at him.

“Uh, bad timing. My dad is over right now. He’s not doing too well. He just stopped by without calling, too. Hasn’t been here too long himself. Hey, maybe I can call you in the morning at work. Would that be all right?”

I huffed and rotated my neck.

“What’s wrong with your father?”

Aaron glanced up at his apartment then looked at me and frowned. “He was just diagnosed with multiple myeloma.”

“With who?”

“Bone-marrow cancer. Gonna have to start getting chemotherapy. Apparently when he was given the news, he jumped in his ride and started driving. He caught himself trying to drive all the way out to Victoria, but realized he was too tired to drive a hundred miles one way. That’s when Dad decided he needed to come see me. Hey, why all the questions, Tracey? You don’t believe me?”

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