My Sister's Ex (19 page)

“Hmm, that’s fine with me,” I tell her. “Daddy,” I scream and walk directly to the den. He’s sitting in the La-Z-Boy “Turn on some lights in here,” I snap. When I cut on the lamp, I see a thick bandage on the corner of his forehead.

“Oh, how’d that happen?”

“What? Got stung by a wasp.”

“Does the wasp wear head scarves and bracelets?”

“Hush, Pretty Girl.”

Aunt Perry prances into the den and plops on the sofa. “Have a seat, girl, nobody’s going to bite you.”

She looks me up and down, then moves closer when she notices the upper side of my breast.

She partially pulls down the front of my shirt. “What in the hell?”

“Hey,” I say angrily. “Don’t be touching me like that.”

“Well, well, well. You went and got you something that really expresses how you feel about that little boy. I was going to ask, but this here tells me more than what your mouth would’ve said. Humph, Blinky you see your daughter got a tat? On her tit?”

“Auntie, please.” I stand up, feeling humiliated.

“Sit back down, girl. I’m just messing with you.”

I reluctantly sit down and wonder why I asked Jeff to take me over here.

“Your sister see it yet?” Perry asks.

I shake my head.

“Have you thought about how it’s going to affect her?”

“Perry, she won’t care. She’s over Jeff.”

“Since when?”

“Today!”

“Please.”

“Look, I don’t have time to worry about people judging me about my decisions. I know what I’m doing.”

“But ‘M and J’?” She shakes her head. “Did he get a tat with
your
initials?”

“No, this was just for me, Perry. Dang, can we change the subject? Where’s my mama?”

“She’s trying to get another job,” Blinky says. “So she says.”

Aunt Perry starts cackling. “You all are a mess. You better hope she’s not trying to find another place to stay.”

“Aw, I’m not worried about her leaving me. She’s threatened to do that so many times … Ha, I dare her to leave. We’ll make up in no time flat. Loretta loves me.”

“She’s probably only staying with you to save face, Blinky.” When my Aunt Perry gets on a roll, it’s hard to stop her.

“If she leaves you, Brooke will never let her hear the end of it. I’m sure glad that lady went on with her life.” She stares at me. “And your sister is going to go on with hers.”

“Keep me out of this conversation, will you?” I say. “Loretta is not me. I’m not her. And I’m definitely not Rachel.”

“We know you not, Pretty Girl,” says Blinky. “And we love you just the way you are.”

“I know you do, Daddy. But sometimes I’m not sure about Aunt Perry.”

“Girl, stop tripping. I love you, too. That’s why I stay on you. If I didn’t care about you, I’d let you do whatever you want. Don’t you know I used to change your dirty diapers when you were a baby? Holding my nose and trying to wipe up your shit?”

“Auntie, please!” I say and stand up.

“No, listen. We’re grown. We can talk. As long as I have breath in my body I’ll be trying to guide you right. Trying to keep you from making mistakes that can ruin your life. That’s what family does. Now come here and give me a hug, and I’m going to give you a ride home whether you like it or not.”

— 11 —
R
ACHEL

Make Myself Happy

I’m in my bedroom
seated in front of my desk. I watch Alita, who’s standing next to me, point and click. She’s on the Internet and just logged in to
SoulSingles.com
, a singles dating community.

“Girl, just read some of the other women’s profiles so you can get idea of how to set up yours.”

“Wow, I can’t believe there are so many people on this site.”

“Yep, and some folks like to make the rounds and register on all the dating sites. Match, eHarmony BlackSingles, and there are some Christian sites, too.”

“Humph, I’ll remember that one for my sis,” I tell her.

“Aw, that’s cold. Anyway, Rachel, congrats on even taking the first step and signing up. Oh, excuse me for calling you Rachel. I meant to say HoneyBrownTX.”

“Ha ha ha, funny funny funny.”

“No, for real girl, that’s a nice name. But you should keep going.”

“Shoot, they want to know so much info. I’m not sure if I’m ready for this.”

“I’m telling you, once you get started and begin to receive flirts and e-mails, you’ll be addicted. Your ego will blow up as
big as one of Pam Anderson’s breasts. It’ll be fun, but you still have to watch out for the crazies.”

“What? I thought you said there weren’t any crazies on here.”

“Oh, I didn’t say that. I said crazy men are everywhere.”

“Ain’t that the truth,” I murmur. “Anyway help me, girl. What should I say?”

“Do the easy stuff first. You’re a nonsmoker, you don’t really drink that much. You want kids, right?”

“Mmm hmm. Do I give my real weight?”

“Yes. Once you put your photo up there, people are going to see how you look, anyway. You’re not big or anything, but believe me, brothas looking for love like the thick sistas, too, and the white ones, the Hispanics, older women, you name it.”

“Hmmm,” I tell her and begin to fill out the personal info for my dating profile.

“Ugh, I sound so lame.”

Alita chuckles. “You
are
lame. Just kidding. No, you gotta spruce it up a bit. That’s why you need to get in touch with my cousin London. She could even write some of this stuff for you. Girl, she goes out on two dates a week, sometimes three.”

“I’m not surprised. That chick is a bona fide knockout.”

“Well, she’s just having a little fun. She knows she’s not halfway serious about some of these guys, but it lets her filter out what type of companion she doesn’t want.”

“I see.” I point and click, browsing the site looking at different men’s profiles. “Why don’t some guys have their photos? That’s weird.”

“I dunno. They may not have had their photos approved yet. Or they’re ugly. Or maybe married.”

“Ha ha, that would be terrible to see your husband’s picture up on one of these sites.”

“Girl, if a wife sees her hubby’s profile on SoulSingles, then she’s no better than he is. Am I right, or am I on crack?”

“You are definitely not on crack … this time, Alita.”

“Aw, hush your mouth. Or I’m going to hook you up with Magilla Gorilla.”

“I don’t think so. I am hoping to meet someone who is honest, a good communicator, and handsome, of course. I think he should be an old-fashioned gentleman. Oh jeez, I don’t know. That sounds lame, too. I’m starting to get frustrated.”

“Calm down. We have plenty of time. What’s today? Saturday? We should have everything posted in the next couple days. That’ll give you time to get some hits and set up some dates for next weekend.”

I start grinning. “Oh, yeah, right, sure. And in two more weeks I expect to be engaged to a wealthy man. And I guess I’ll be married and on a honeymoon in eight weeks.”

“And divorced one month after that. Hollywood-style stuff, huh, Rach—oops, HoneyBrownTX.”

“No Hollywood stuff for me,” I state firmly. “I’m looking for the real deal. If I am sincere in my quest for love, there’s no reason to connect with a man who’s not as genuine as I am.”

I do a couple of searches for single men between the ages of twenty-four and thirty-four and click on a member profile. The guy’s screen name is WriteBro4U.

“Oh,” I tell Alita, “maybe he’s an author, or a poet. That would be different.”

I glance at his personal info.

Height: 5′8″

Weight: 115 lbs.

“Oh, hell no. If I put on heels, I’d have to look down on top of his head.”

Alita giggles. “Try to be open. London dates guys who are taller and shorter than her. The short guys are funnier—”

“That’s because they gotta be—”

“And the tall guys feel they don’t have to do much to impress a woman because they’re relying on their height or good looks.”

“Okay something to consider.”

I click on a section called Opinions.

“Let’s see what WriteBro4U is about,” I murmur. “Oh, God, look at his first answer. They want his opinion on abortions. He put ‘Sometimes.’”

“Dang, okay, we know what he’s been up to, huh?”

“Yeah. I’ve got to get out of this brotha’s page. He’s not for me.”

“Don’t give up so fast. You may find you have so many other traits in common with this man.”

“That’s all right. We’ll never know, because I wouldn’t give him the time of day.”

“Suit yourself, lady. You have too many rules or something. It may take you a while to find someone you like.”

“Oh, yeah right, two whole weeks instead of three long days.”

“Smarty,” she says and pretends to karate chop me.

“Aww,” I playfully scream. “No, stop, stay back,” I say, mimicking what we say in self-defense class. “Hey, I’m really happy we’re taking the class. I may need it once I start going on some dates.”

“Let’s hope you won’t have to go Mike Tyson on anybody, but you never know.” She jumps up. “Hey, I gotta go to the bathroom, sweetie.”

“Take your time, Hardly Berry. I’m going to continue searching around for my future baby daddy.”

I flick through several profiles and wrinkle my nose in frustration. I had no idea finding a new guy would be so difficult. My thoughts settle on Jeff, and I wonder if he’s the one that got away. But I convince myself that if he really were that good, and truly belonged to me, he wouldn’t be trying to date my sister regardless of his asinine reason for being with her.

I entertain some thoughts for several minutes and begin typing in a section called In My Own Words:

Hey, what’s up, world? My name is—oops, you almost got me. For this site, I want to be known as Honey-BrownTX. Why? Well, I am a proud Texas girl, born and raised in Houston. Texas is my roots and there’s no better place in the world than my home state. Secondly, my skin is as brown as the sweetness of a honeycomb, but my outward appearance is not important. The things inside of me are what matter the most. This is my first time seeking a mate on a dating site. I am not here to play games. In fact, I’ve signed up not just to meet my dream guy, but I’m here to discover things, important things, about myself as a woman, and hopefully about you, too. I’ve experienced several relationships in the past; some made me extremely happy, others made me question my judgment. Which brings me to my personal philosophy:
Make yourself happy as long as you aren’t making someone else unhappy along the way.
I came across these words on the Internet one day, and they perfectly describe where I am right now. I want love. I want happiness. But if my being happy means that I gotta hurt someone else, I’ll delay my happiness. The type of fulfillment I’m looking for must be pure, honest, and suitable. Feel free to hit me up if you feel what I’m saying
.

My fingers stop clicking the keyboard. My shirt is now clinging to me. I feel a pool of wetness forming in my armpit. Writing that material has taken a lot out of me. I unloaded my heart, emotions, everything I have, into what I want to say. Emptying my soul feels unusually good, and my spirit feels lighter.

Alita returns to my room, glancing over my shoulder.

“Hmm, girlfriend, you’ve put the wow factor in your profile.”

“Amazing, huh?”

“Sure is. Now fill out some more stuff, then we’ll submit your profile, okay?”

“All right, I’ll answer a few more questions.”

I click on Opinions and type the first things that pop in my mind:

OPINIONS

“All right. I’m tired, girl,” I say and push my swivel chair back from my desk.

“I think you have enough to get started. One last thing, though—you need to post a photo.”

“Hmm, I hate taking pictures. Not very photogenic.”

“Just submit your best photo.”

“My favorite slash best photo is one where Jeff and I are standing cheek to cheek. I love that picture, but no way it’s going on SoulSingles.”

“Then take a new picture.”

“Shoot, look at my hair. I’ve got a couple of pimples on my face. Yuck. No one’s going to be attracted to me.”

“Girl, if these ugly-ass men have enough nerve to put their pictures up there—”

“You calling me ugly, Alita?”

“No, fool. You’re cute as a button. You just don’t realize it.” Alita places her hands on her hips, then smiles. “Hey let’s play a little game. But we gotta hook up with London and see if she’ll be in on it. Knowing my cousin, she’ll say yes.”

Alita gets her cousin on the phone, and they chitchat for a few. “London is in the area, actually at First Colony Mall. I told her we’ll meet her there.”

“What’s she doing at the mall?”

“Some guy gave her a JCPenney gift card. So she’s checking out jewelry They’re having a diamond and gold sale. Seventy percent off.”