My Sister's Ex (16 page)

She grins and nods.

“That’s cold-blooded, girl. Anyway, what’s popping? How’s Big Hen?”

“Ooo, he is amazing, just a ma zing. For instance, last night was our regular date night and we had a ball. We hung
out at Dave and Buster’s, the one off the Katy Freeway. Girl, we drank beer after beer and had some so-so-tasting appetizers, but it was still fun. Then we played tons of games and earned a lot of tickets. I beat my man at Skee-Ball; he was pissed and pouting and I kept kissing him every time I got a high score, which made him even madder. It was so funny. We had a great time just being together and acting silly.”

“Hmm, wow, I wish I could have gone with ya’ll.”

“Oh, yeah, so what did you do last night?”

“Don’t even ask, girl. I just stayed home, looked at some bootleg movies that I’ve already seen two or three times. I was bored out of my skull, Alita.”

“I wish I would’ve known you had nothing better to do. We could have scooped you up.”

“That would’ve been cool to hang out with you, but to be honest, I can’t imagine having fun by tagging along with you and your man.”

“Then we need to change that, by helping you to get a good man so you can hang out, have fun, and start living again.”

I laugh. “Hmm, you’re so right. Hook a sista up.”

“What?” She gasps, eyes enlarged. “I can’t believe those words have come from your mouth. Have you finally given up on getting Jeff back?”

“Shhh,” I tell her and feel self-conscious. “I don’t want to think about it, talk about it. I am coming to terms with everything. At least I don’t do what I did a week ago, which was go to bed at night and envision myself throwing a brick at his window.”

“Girl, you are not James Brown, so let this big payback stuff go. Jeff’s not worth it. You have too much going for you to lose sleep over what he’s doing.”

“I know, you’re right, but it’s … it’s easier said than done.
But I’m getting there. Then again, one day I may not care if I ever see his face again.”

“That would be an improvement. Keep up the good work, girl. Predict your excellent future … give yourself something good to look forward to. Oops, hush. Here comes Floyd. Class is about to start. We’ll talk again during break.”

We sit down and receive an hour’s worth of lecturing about how to secure your home from intruders, and how to always be aware of your surroundings when you’re walking to and from your vehicle.

“And you young folks are big on Facebook. Putting all your personal information online is never a good thing. It’s very easy for a pervert to copy and paste all your info and set up another profile to perpetrate someone. What you want to do is remove opportunity for someone to harm you or steal your identity.”

“Hmm, that’s something to think about,” I remark to myself.

“Another thing,” Floyd says. “Make sure and keep your shades drawn. You’d be surprised at how people can see through your windows at night.”

“Aww, snap,” Alita says aloud.

“Ooh, looks like you’re remembering a time when you forgot to close the shades, huh?” I tease, holding a side conversation with my friend.

“Girl, sometimes Big Hen does that shit on purpose. I think he gets off knowing that people can possibly be watching us. You know he sleeps with no underwear.”

“Yuck, spare me.”

“You know Rachel, it’s been too long since you’ve had some. I can just tell. We need to help you get a man ASAP.”

“Ladies, can you please stop the side conversations and
pay attention? You should be taking notes on some of these risk reduction strategies.”

“Yes, sir,” Alita says and picks up an ink pen and starts writing. She scribbles notes then passes them to me.

I read her beautiful, neat handwriting. Her letters are big and wide, which tells me that she’s filled with confidence. “Have you thought about online dating?”

I pick up my pencil and scribble back, “Hell no!!!!!”

She laughs, writes again. “Just try it one time, and I’ll never bother you about it again.”

I scratch out the first part of her sentence and a few other words so that the sentence now reads, “never bother you again.” I make a silly face, cross out the word “you” and write down “me.”

She picks up the paper and bursts out laughing so loud that everyone turns and gives us annoyed looks.

“Okay, ladies,” Floyd states. “I think it’s time we took a ten-minute break. And after that, let’s be ready to practice some moves.”

Alita and I race to the ladies’ room since there’s only one available stall.

“Okay, Hardly Berry, what were you talking about some online dating for?”

“I believe it would be good for you to get back out there, date around, and allow some gorgeous chocolate hunk help renew your self-esteem.”

“I think my self-esteem is intact.”

“Not that you should totally depend on a guy to make yourself feel good.” I hear her laugh while she’s sitting in the stall. “That’s what Big Hen says he likes about me. He knows if he were to tell me something derogatory about myself, it wouldn’t bother me one bit because I think more of myself than anyone else does.”

“A woman who has confidence is considered sexy. I know, I know,” I say wistfully Maybe she’s right about mustering up the nerve to date around. If I take a risk instead of playing it safe, who knows what kind of man I could meet.

Alita emerges from the stall to splash water on her hands and hold them under the eco-friendly dryer. I enter the empty stall and continue talking to her. “Well, I don’t know much about online dating. But it sounds kind of risky. What if I meet an insane person?”

“You don’t have to go online to meet crazy people, believe me. Remember Stanley Hudson, my ex who I caught wearing my underwear one night? Man, I couldn’t get rid of him fast enough. And from the outside he looked so straitlaced.”

“Humph, he liked lace, all right,” I say, and we laugh together. I wash and dry my hands, and we slothfully walk down the hallway so we can delay our return to class.

“London is a pro at online dating,” Alita tells me.

“Oh yeah?” I say. London is Alita’s twenty-one-year-old cousin. She’s so attractive she could easily work as a fashion model. She constantly smiles, is all big-hair, and has blemish-free skin and a sleek body that exudes sex appeal. Round tits, curvy hips, London struts around like she knows she has it going on. She’s the type of girl that all the guys want to date, but they’d be too intimidated by her because they’d assume she already has a man.

Alita and I stop by the vending machine. I insert a dollar fifteen worth of change and wait for my ice-cold strawberry soda to come flying out.

“Alita, I am no London by any stretch of the imagination.”

“Girl, what are you talking about? You don’t have to be drop-dead gorgeous to get attention from men on the Net. All you gotta do is breathe.”

“Scary,” I say, and my mood turns serious. “I would want
to meet someone who shares the same interests as me, you know. Someone who has some standards, to make sure we’re compatible, all that.”

“Are you saying you’ll consider going online to find your dream situation?”

“You make it sound so good, so tempting, but I want to think about it first. I have a final unresolved issue with Mr. W.”

“Unbelievable that you’d still take time to deal with him. But who am I to rush someone else’s heart? All I’m saying is when your heart is ready for change, you’ll know it.”

Alita and I return to class. Floyd has everyone stand in a circle. We prepare ourselves by first doing a series of stretches; then we proceed to practice some new moves. Learning how to block, to breathe, to kick someone on the shins, and to gouge eyeballs. And toward the end of the session he begins talking about Tasers. He informs us that even policemen get tasered so they can learn the effects, and how much it hurts to have electricity run through your body.

“I was reluctant to get tasered, but I had to go through it, face the unknown, in order to effectively do my job. Suffice it to say, the fact that I am standing before you today lets you know how strong my body is.”

We laugh and shake our heads.

“But at the time,” Floyd continues, “being tasered wasn’t funny. A big man like me was rolling on the ground. Screaming. Wanting to call my mother. Not a pretty sight.”

We go through a few more moves that we’ve repeated a hundred times before, and then class ends.

“Hey Alita, why don’t you follow me over to my place? I want to fix us some grilled chicken tacos. The meat has been marinating in the refrigerator since last night.”

“Sounds like a plan. I’m right behind you, girl.”

I hop in and start my car, and she follows me to the
apartment. We get out of our vehicles and quietly enter the front door.

I’m so busy chatting with Alita that at first I don’t notice him. He’s standing in the dining room. All the lights are on in the living area. Marlene is sitting at the table, her flabby arm raised up. Jeff is examining her bare arm.

“That’s tight,” he says as he raises her arm and smiles.

“Hey,” I say, “what’s going on in here?” I haven’t seen or talked to Jeff since that day in Waffle House. Jeff whips his head around and jumps back from Marlene. He looks surprised, which is insulting. He ought to figure that I’d eventually run into him again one day.

“Hey, Sis.” Marlene beams and stands up. “What’s up, Alita?”

“That’s what we’re trying to find out,” I say.

“Oh, we’re just getting ready to do something really cool. At first I was skeptical”—Marlene laughs—“but Jeff has a way of convincing me to do things I may not want to do at first.” She clears her throat. They lock eyes and smile, as if sharing a private joke.

“What’s so funny?” Alita smiles, although I know it’s her fake but genuine-looking grin. “We want to laugh, too.”

Jeff opens his mouth to answer, but Marlene butts in. “It’s private.”

I shrug like it’s no biggie. “Cool. We’re just about to make ourselves something to eat. Ya’ll hungry?”

Marlene looks at me oddly, like she’s surprised I am not ranting and raving.

“Hey, Alita, clear the table. Make room for four,” I tell her. She responds by removing old newspapers that are neatly piled in a stack on the dining room table.

Jeff, looking startled, says, “Let me help you with that, Alita.”

I head for the kitchen and get busy. I remove the chicken meat from the fridge. I whip out my George Foreman Grill and get the flour tortillas, veggies, lettuce, and picante sauce. Soon the kitchen is filled with delicious aroma.

“Damn, Rachel. I haven’t eaten those in a long time.”

I simply smile at Jeff’s comment and continue cooking. Alita sets the table. Marlene just sits and mopes. Jeff comes and stands next to me.

“Need any help?”

“Nope. I’m good.”

“You sure? I’m a man who doesn’t mind cooking.”

“Well, I’m making this food for everyone’s enjoyment, just something I feel like doing … and”—I smile wickedly—“you caught me at a good time.”

“Um, yeah, I guess I’m lucky.”

“You know what? You really are lucky.”

Alita locks eyes with me.

Jeff says, “What do you mean by that?”

“Oh nothing. Just talking. Don’t pay me any attention.”

Jeff moves in closer. His elbow touches my rib.

“Oops, sorry. Accident.”

“Jeff, I know our kitchen is tiny, but you really need to move over … a couple feet actually. I don’t need anyone up under me while I’m trying to cook.”

“Ha, you hear her say ‘trying’ to cook.” Marlene laughs and hops up. She grabs Jeff closely by the arm. “C’mon, we don’t have to stay for this. We have business to take care of.”

“No, Marlene. We have time. I’m starving.”

“I’ll feed you, babe.” She laughs again and looks at me, then tugs at Jeff’s arm even tighter and tilts her head so she’s looking up at him. He removes his arm from her grip and yells, “Watch that meat, it’s burning.”

“Oh, someone get me another spatula, hurry.”

Jeff jumps back and opens a utensil drawer, hands me a spatula.

“Ouch,” I say.

“What’s wrong? Grease hit you?”

I nod and grimace.

“Go sit down. I got this,” Jeff commands. He takes over and finishes grilling the chicken slices. I take a seat and let Alita hold an ice cube to my stinging arm, which was splattered with oil.

Marlene just sits back, shakes her head, probably thinking this was all planned.

Jeff turns off the grill and starts filling the tortillas with meat, veggies, and sauce. He serves Marlene first, then me, Alita, and himself.

Alita does a good job making my arm feel better. I revel in the fact that my thoughts are clear, my emotions appear under control.

“I can’t believe we’re all here, eating, acting civilized,” I say to no one in particular. We’re all seated at the dining room table. Jeff and Marlene are next to each other, Jeff directly across from me. He bites into his food and glances at me every few seconds. I feel weak under his constant gaze, but I keep trying to stuff my mouth with food as a distraction.

“You like?” Jeff asks Marlene but peers steadily at me.

“Yeah, it’s yummy.”

Jeff’s cell starts to ring. He glances at the number and hops up so fast that he knocks his chair over. He answers the phone, “Hello,” really loud and leaves the apartment to go talk.

“Must be important,” Marlene says, as though she needs to speak up on his behalf.

“Must be,” Alita says.

“Why are you doing this?” Marlene hisses. She hasn’t eaten at all and has spent the last few minutes shoving her
food around her plate with a fork. “What are you trying to do? Make him see what he’s missing? Because he’s not missing you anymore. He told me—.”

“Marlene. Enough. Really. I could not care less about that man.”

“For real? I’m going to tell him you said that—.”

“That’s not necessary. But if you feel that it is, go on and tell him. But more importantly believe me, I don’t care what you do. You can have him. So to answer your question, that’s what I’m trying to do. It’s called not giving a damn.” I abruptly rise from the table, not hungry anymore. I nod, look at her. “Yep. I’m going to rise above this.”