My Sister's Ex (12 page)

“Meeting a certain type of man can do that to you … make you do things you never done before … if you let it. Your sister’s in for a rude awakening, though.”

“You think Loretta can talk some sense into her?”

“Ha! That’s like asking a whore to keep her legs closed for the rest of her life. Ain’t gonna happen.”

“Sad.”

“Yep. But you’ll learn how to take your focus off what Marlene is up to and go on with what you need to be doing. You got a good job.”

“Yeah, right. I’m on my way to work now, Mama, and you don’t know how bad I wish I can call in sick.”

“Don’t do that. Remember when you and Jeff broke up and you took off for three days? They can see right through that ‘I have a fever of 110’ mess.”

I giggle at the memory. “Oh, well, I guess I’ll put on a brave front. Good thing is I’ll get to hook up with Alita this afternoon. She’ll help me through this.”

“Make sure she stays the real type of friend that a woman needs. I know you want to tell your best friend all your business, but you gotta be careful.”

“Mama, I know. You’ve already told me. And I put Alita through the friend tests that you told me to do.” Mama taught me that loyalty and dependability are important traits of true friendship. Alita and I don’t date each other’s exes, we won’t borrow money from each other, and she and I are there for each other during any family, health, or relationship crisis. We don’t throw each other under a bus just to make ourselves look good.

“Alita passed the test?”

“The girl earned straight As on your tests. I trust her.”

“Lucky you. Humph! Loretta was such a cool-ass friend when we were younger, before we had babies. We’d crank up our beat-up car and go joy-riding, flirting with men, hanging out at the Miller Outdoor Theatre dancing to music, just having the time of our lives. I was more of a party-girl, and she would tag along and try to keep up. So much fun. But our fun didn’t last.”

I grow quiet and ponder the hurtful events my mama
has had to endure because of Loretta. I remember hearing them on the phone a couple years ago, arguing at one o’clock in the morning. Loretta was so mad I could hear her shrill voice coming out of the speaker:

Is Blinky around?

Loretta, I don’t know why you call my house to see where Blinky is. He is no concern of mine
.

You better not be lying, Brooke. It only takes five minutes for me to drive over to your house
.

Even if I was fucking Blinky, I’m not stupid enough to do it in my own house. Hell, we know how to go to a fancy hotel and enjoy ourselves
.

Are you saying you are with him?

I’m not saying anything to you, Loretta. Why would you expect me to help you out? Give you info to help your relationship? I didn’t see you trying to help me twenty-something years ago
.

Get over it, Brooke. I was the better woman so—

And you better hope he ain’t out there lining up the next better woman; you’ll find yourself in the same situation I’m in
.

They went back and forth, throwing out accusations and yelling insults. Listening to them was disturbing. I couldn’t sleep, and I didn’t like how Loretta was a pro at causing my mama to get bent out of shape. And now here I am, almost going through the same situation, all over a man.

It’s one thing to learn that the one who betrays you is your best friend. Sure, that’s unbelievable and it hurts, but it’s a whole other ball game when the traitor is your roommate/sister/supposed-to-be-family member. There’s nothing worse than when your own sibling betrays you.

“Mama, I hear what you’re saying. But what I don’t understand is how two women can start off as best friends, being close and trusting each other, to ending up enemies
and not able to be in the same room together without arguing and getting into a fight.”

“Are you scared that’s what’s going to happen with you and Marlene?”

“To be honest, sometimes I don’t want to see us get to that point. And other times I just don’t care. I’ve gone to bed the past few nights imagining myself torturing this girl in her sleep. Grabbing the first thing I can find and knocking some sense into her.”

Mama laughs hysterically and I feel slightly guilty at disclosing my true feelings.

“It sounds funny Mama, but when I entertain those thoughts, it bothers me. I don’t want to turn into some kind of out-of-control monster, yet I wouldn’t be able to stand it if she continues to pursue a serious relationship with my ex.”

“Little Bit, let me ask you something. If you found out Jeff was dating an entirely different chick, would you mind as much? Or is it just because he’s dating your sister?”

“Mama, he-he’s not dating her, okay, don’t say that. He’s playing a game. I-I know he is.”

“How you know that?”

“If we seriously sat down together, and I told him he’s my heart and I want him back, he’d dump her like an old pot of chitlins.”

“I wouldn’t be so sure. Jeff loves his chitlins.”

“And chitlins always stink; they never smell good. But seriously, Mama, I know Jeff still loves me, and I think I’m going to give it some time. He’s going through a little phase where he’s trying to make me jealous, that’s all.”

“You really sure about your little theory?”

“Of course I am. Think about it. Like you said, he could be dating any other woman right now, but he’s spending time with Marlene, okay? Not dating like you said, but he’s
spending time with her because she is the closest thing to me, even though, technically, she and I are like night and day. But still, it’s like he has me when he has her, in some odd way. So, I think I don’t have to worry about them anymore. I am confident that once I ignore them, Jeff will see he can’t push my buttons; he’ll no longer mess around with her and return to his right mind.”

“When are men ever in their right mind?”

“You gotta give them some time, sometimes a lot of time, and cross your fingers that one day they’ll come to their senses.”

“Ha, if that’s the case, my fingers need surgery. I’ve been crossing my fingers for so long it’s like I have four fingers instead of eight.”

“Mama, you know you’re not right,” I say teasingly.

“I’m just telling the truth about my situation. But I want to see you happy. Hopefully things will work out exactly the way you want, Little Bit.”

“Speaking of work, I’m just pulling into the clinic’s parking lot, and I see an empty space that’s waiting on me. Then I gotta hurry up and go to the bathroom and fix my face, and do the job thing so I can earn my little paycheck. I’ll call you soon as I get off work.”

Mama hears me out and softly tells me how much she loves me, that I’m her reason for living. I feel embarrassed by her display of emotion and just murmur, “Thanks for calling, Mama.” I quickly hang up and concentrate on parking my car.

Moments later I am in the ladies’ restroom splashing lukewarm water on my face. I reapply some mascara and lip gloss, then thoroughly wash my hands so I can go to the lab and face my coworkers, plus the endless line of patients.

And for the next several hours, I make sure my voice is authoritative, yet friendly and positive, as I call out
patients’ names. After I introduce myself, I collect their urine samples and prick folks with needles. The small waiting area is cramped and crowded.

I stand with a clipboard in my hand and loudly say “Duane McGraw.”

This big and tall guy stands up, then rocks back and forth on his feet. He’s so big and bulky he looks like a high-rise building swaying in the wind.

“That’s Duane
Anthony
McGraw,” the big guy states.

I shrug my shoulders and ignore his arrogant pose.

“Come on and have a seat.”

He takes his time getting to me, like he enjoys walking in slow motion. I concentrate on preparing my equipment and take a deep, measured breath.

“How is your day going, sir?” I say, trying to be professional.

“Couldn’t be better. You haven’t heard the news?”

I gaze at him and feel startled by his odd question.

“Can you roll up your sleeve for me, sir?”

I clean his skin with a cotton ball soaked with alcohol and ask him to ball his humongous hand into a tight fist.

“Yes, indeed, old boy made that move. Got engaged. The team is throwing me an engagement party.”

“The team?” I ask. I prick his skin with a needle and begin to draw his blood.

He winces and closes his eyes and begins to whimper like I’m stoning him to death.

“Hey,” a teenager within earshot says. “That’s that tight end Duane Anthony McGraw; they call him Dam for short. He has some sweet moves.”

I inspect my patient more closely. He’s got a big, wide ring on his left finger. I notice an NFL emblem on a thick gold chain that is wrapped about his neck.

“Well, congratulations. Sorry, I know exactly who you are, but I haven’t had time to look at the news today,” I lie. “Must be nice. Is your wife-to-be excited?”

“She cried when I said yes.”

I draw enough blood to fill the bottle and secure the adapter cap.

“Are you saying that she asked you to marry her?”

“That’s exactly what I’m saying.”

“That’s a trip. What made you say yes?”

I continue collecting blood samples and want to burst out laughing every time this big man grunts and twists in his seat. He looks like a little kid. I should offer him a green lollipop.

“My girl, she is down for me, you know what I’m saying? Even though she knows a lot of women are after me because of who I am, Vanessa doesn’t trip out. She knows when it’s all said and done, I’m the one who will be in her bed every night. I’m going to pay every single bill, and as long as I’m in her face giving her attention, I’m going to honor her.”

I’m the type that reads between the lines. You can’t only pay attention to what a man says; you have to listen for what he doesn’t say.

“Excuse me for being blunt, but does this mean you feel you have a right to cheat on Vanessa as long as you don’t disrespect her to her face?”

“You can take that how you want. Bottom line is she is going to have my last name, not any other woman. Quiet as it’s kept, that’s how a lot of men out here feel. Real talk. At the end of the day, a woman’s gotta be confident she’s number one. Once a woman is clear on her position with her man, everything else falls into place.”

I finish my work with Mr. Football Playa and think about what he says for the rest of the afternoon. Think of how his relationship philosophy factors into the hesitancies I
experienced when it came to me and Jeff. Sometimes I felt like the majestic queen; other times I felt like a mere mortal.

During my break Alita calls, as promised. “Hey, Ms. Phlebotomist, how’s work?”

“Girl, same old, same old, but I swear to God, some folks know they don’t need to be getting married.”

“What you talking about, Rachel?”

“There was this so-called famous athlete that came into the clinic. He was talking about how he’s engaged to this woman. But he practically said he will still cheat on her. That he may step out on her, but she’s still his number one.”

“Well, Big Hen better not cheat on me. That’s why we aren’t getting married. I’m scared marriage would mess it up. And I do not plan on becoming a divorce statistic.”

“I don’t blame you,” I tell her. “Just think, if Jeff and I got married, I wonder where we’d be five years down the road.” I shudder. “What if we got married and were very happy and he woke up one morning and told me he was leaving me for another woman …”

“And the woman turned out to be Marlene.”

“Girl, I’m telling you, not only would there be a quick-ass divorce, there’d be two funerals, you hear me?”

“I hear you, girl. Anyway, I hope you’re coping all right today.”

“Yeah, I’m cool. I just can’t stop thinking about why Jeff still carries my ring in his pocket.”

“That’s some messed-up stuff. First of all, he was wrong to take back the ring. Everyone knows a woman never returns the ring.”

“Apparently I don’t know what everyone else knows, or else I would have fought him for it. Or maybe I felt he deserved to have it, under the circumstances. That’s probably why I’m in this predicament in the first place. I need
clarity for my life so I can make the best decisions. I get so angry with myself, Alita, I swear to God. I wish I can go back in time, undo some things.”

“Everyone makes mistakes, Rachel. Even Marlene.”

“You think so?” I ask, feeling hopeful for the first time since the day began. “You think she’s making a mistake?”

“Your sister is delusional. She is chasing a hopeless dream. You just gotta wait this out and watch her fairy tale morph into a nightmare.”

“Great, then maybe I can carefully revisit my relationship with Jeff. I’ll do everything I can to make sure things stay on point this time. If I had been brave enough to face the issues I had with him in the first place, maybe we wouldn’t be going through this.”

“Which issues?”

“Certain things about him disturbed me. I wasn’t sure I could trust him one hundred percent. That’s the main reason why I broke up with him. If I am to be with a man for the rest of my life, I want everything to line up perfectly.”

“Um, Rachel. That’s kind of what I wanted to talk to you about when we were on the phone earlier.”

“Okay, go ahead.” I am devouring a Club Lite sandwich that a coworker picked up for me from Jason’s Deli. Imagine toasted whole grain stuffed with smoked turkey breast and ham, a strip of lettuce, tomato slice, and Swiss cheese. I keep a bottle of Grey Poupon at work and had slapped a spoonful underneath the lettuce. Just the way Jeff likes his sandwiches.

“Even though you are convinced you still care about him, I think it’s only because he’s with your sister. And I think you should consider using your energies in other ways besides Jeff, because he’s not the only man in the world. And as soon as you let go of trying to get him back and consider dating
others, you will find out someone or something better exists for you. Something much better.”

“Better than Jeffrey Williams?”