Waiting to Exhale (24 page)

Savannah was staring out the window at the golf course when the waitress brought their drinks. "I'll buy this round," Robin said. "An
d l
et's get some of that food over there, girl. It's free, and I haven't eaten."

They weren't stingy with the food, Savannah was thinking as she filled her plate up with fresh fruit salad, tossed green salad, pasta salad, and buffalo wings. Normally, she never ate chicken in public because it always got stuck between her teeth, and plus, she forgot to put her dental floss in her purse. But hell, nobody worth worrying about was in here.

Robin made two trips to the food table and drank her wine in between plates. On the way here, she had told Savannah her life story, which didn't seem to start until she met Russell. She told Savannah all about him. And Michael. And how she wanted to have a baby before it was "too late." When she finally mentioned her job as an underwriter and all it entailed, particularly how she sometimes wrote proposals that brought in million-dollar accounts, it sounded to Savannah like the only time Robin used common sense was at work. "It looks good on paper," Robin said, "but I'm still not making any real money, and I'm seriously thinking about looking for another job, at a bigger company. The way things stand now, I'm living from paycheck to paycheck and can't even afford to help pay for a nurse for my daddy. That's pitiful," she said, as if she was talking to herself. "What the hell did I get a degree for?"

The place was starting to fill up, but there was still no sign of Gloria or Bernadine. Now on her second glass of wine, Robin went back to her favorite subject: Russell. She apologized for his philandering. "Could he help it if he was so fine that women flocked to him? If I'd been a little more patient and not pressured him, maybe he would've married me," she said. "But it's not over till it's over." Savannah didn't say a word. She just sat there listening to the shit and wanted to slap Robin. Knock some sense into her. Savannah agreed with Bernadine: the woman was a little on the dizzy side when it came to men.

Savannah sipped at her second margarita, thinking: This woman is pitiful. Too hard up. But she liked Robin, mostly because she was apparently quite resilient, openly honest, and totally unaware of how dense she was. She ran her mouth a mile a minute, no doubt about that, because Savannah had already smoked three cigarettes in the thirty-five minutes they'd been sitting here.

Now Robin leaned forward over the table. "If I tell you something, you promise not to tell Gloria or Bernadine?"

"I promise," Savannah said.

"I let Russell spend the night last Saturday."

"That's your business," Savannah said.

"Well, Bernadine always claimed that Russell was nothing but a whore with a dick, so she wouldn't understand, and Gloria had the nerve to tell me that Russell wasn't stalling; he just didn't want to marry me. But Gloria doesn't know anything about men, because she's never really had one. It's a shame, if you ask me. She's too pretty to be so damn fat."

"Every woman wasn't meant to be a size nine, Robin."

"I know that. But losing sixty or seventy pounds wouldn't hurt her. Anyway, I don't want to talk about Gloria. I'm still optimistic," Robin said, and leaned back in her chair.

"About what?"

"Russell. Girl, I whipped something on him so tough, he hated to leave."

"So he spent the whole night?"

"No. He had to take his mother to church early the next morning." Robin then asked Savannah if she'd heard the rumor going around that Russell was living with some woman who was supposed to be having his baby. Savannah said no. "Russell said it's not true. And after Saturday night, I hate to say it, but I believe him."

That's when Savannah could've slapped her again.

"I want him back, girl," she said. "And I'm going to get him back."

"But why would you want him back?" Savannah asked.

"Because I'm never going to meet another man like him."

"Like what?"

"First of all, he can dress his ass off, he's the best lover I've ever had since I've been in Phoenix, he's fine as can be, and I know he'd make some pretty babies."

This was too much for Savannah. "But hasn't he hurt you?"

"I guess, but you tell me what man doesn't hurt you at one time or another. I don't think he did it intentionally. Russell still has some growing up to do."

"And you want him to do it on your time?"

"Not really. But I think this time apart has done him some good. He does have some good qualities."

"Such as?"

"He's got charisma, and he's a whole lot of fun when he wants to be."

"And?" Savannah said.

"Like I said, he's a super-deluxe lover, we like to do some of the same things, and we click. And I love him."

"Well, what makes you think you won't meet somebody better?"

"It's already been close to a year, and all I've met is old dorky Michael."

"Well, let me ask you this, Robin. What makes you think he wants to come back?"

"Because he told me he did."

"And you believed him?"

"Why shouldn't I?"

Savannah didn't have the energy to respond to that. "Well, why would you want to be with a man, knowing you can't trust him?"

"I do trust him," she said. "People change," she said. "And you can't hold a few mistakes against somebody for the rest of their life."

"This is true," Savannah said, and licked the rest of the salt from the rim of her glass. It was amazing to her how some women could be so stupid. They make up all kinds of excuses for a man after he's treated them like dirt; apologize for his revolting behavior; and take him back after he's broken their fucking hearts-so he can break them again. And this is supposed to be love? This is supposed to be healthy? This is supposed to be the way to live your life with a man? Not me, Savannah thought, as she listened to Robin move on to what was obviously her second-favorite topic: herself.

"I wish I could just get some plastic surgery and be done with everything," she said.

"For what?"

"My ass is too flat, my nose is shaped weird, my lips are too thin, and the inside of my thighs won't get firm to save my life. I'm starting to get these bags under my eyes, see?" and she pulled on that area to make her point.

"You look fine," Savannah said.

"I used to look better. I don't like this getting-old shit, I swear I don't."

Savannah thought Robin was quite attractive, and she couldn't understand why someone who looked like she couldn't be in better shape was wearing herself out fretting over her age, her looks, and her body. What she needed to do was get rid of that damn weave and stop wearing that red blush, because it was too bright for her dark skin.

"I wanted to have a baby before I turned thirty-six. Don't you?" she asked.

"I'm already thirty-six," Savannah said, "and I'm not wasting my energy worrying about it. I'll tell you one thing: I'm not having one by myself, that's for damn sure. Just so I can say I did it? No way."

"I might," Robin said. "If I have to. What sign are you?"

"What?"

"When's your birthday?"

"October fourteenth."

"A Libra. Cool. I get along good with Libras. I guess you don't know what your rising sign is, do you?"

"No, I don't," Savannah said.

"Do you know what time you were bom?"

"Yes."

"Good, then I can do your chart for you."

"I don't want my chart done," Savannah said.

"It can help you figure out what's going on in your life."

"I know what's going on in my life," Savannah said. "Has it helped you?"

Robin didn't answer, because she spotted Gloria and Bernadine coming through the front door, being greeted by the same man. "Let me say this, girl. For thirty-six years old, you look good."

"Thank you," Savannah said.

"What kind of moisturizer do you use?"

"Aveda."

"A-who?"

"Come over one day, and I'll show you. I bought it in Denver."

Bernadine and Gloria came over to their table. "It took you guys long enough," Robin said. "It's seven-thirty. You're missing all the action."

"We can see that," Bernadine said. "So I see you guys have met?"

"We've definitely met," Savannah said, and Robin gave her a little shove on the shoulder.

"Don't tell me you haven't caught anybody yet," Gloria said to Robin, and laughed.

"Shut up, Gloria. You look nice tonight," she said.

"Why, thank you, sugar. You look ravishing, as usual, and so do you, Savannah. Especially your hair, chile. You just have to give me the name of your hairdresser." Savannah laughed. Gloria had done her hair the day before. Savannah had ripped a picture out of Essence magazine and shown it to Gloria. Whatever she did worked, because her hair had so much body that all Savannah would have to do to keep this look was wash her hair and shake it.

"You two look good too," Savannah said. Bernadine was wearing a tight black dress, and Gloria, a black pantsuit with a red blouse.

"What's so happy about this happy hour?" Gloria asked.

They looked at each other and started laughing. That's when Bernadine spotted somebody she knew at the bar. At first she waved, then she got up and walked over. To a man. Which made Savannah, Gloria, and Robin gasp. A few minutes later, she came back with this handsome specimen, and they wanted to gasp again. "I want you ladies to meet a good friend of mine," she said, and introduced them to Herbert Webster, who, they found out a few minutes after he went back to the bar, was a retired football player turned sports agent. He was also married, which caused Robin and Savannah to lose interest immediately. Gloria wasn't fazed. "He's also active in politics," Bernadine said. "He's on the committee that's trying to get the King holiday passed."

"That's nice," Savannah said.

"Black Women on the Move is working on that too," Gloria said. "You might want to join," she said to Savannah. "We do all kinds of things in the community. Last year we gave out ten six-hundred- dollar scholarships from money we raised at the Black Women's Achievement Awards luncheon. We had a Women's Awareness and Self-Help Day so that women who get AFDC could learn how t o m ake extra money without it affecting their checks. Some of the members are lawyers, so we offer free legal advice. And once a year we have this all-day event, with all kinds of workshops: how to deal with breast cancer, incest, sexual harassment on the job, single parenting, financial planning, stress-you name it. Anything that's helpful to black women. Later on, though, we party. We call it Sisters' Nite Out. We get dressed up, play crazy games, have outlandish contests, dance and sing, and there's some pretty good door prizes too."

"This is all women?" Savannah asked.

Robin cut in. "It starts out with all women, but about nine or ten they let the men in. They usually get a pretty good band. It's a lot of fun, if I do say so myself. It's about the only time in this town you get a chance to really dress up and wear sparkly clothes, except for maybe the Ebony Fashion Fair and New Year's. I've been going for the last five years and always have a dynamite time. The food is good too-right, Gloria?"

Gloria rolled her eyes at Robin and waved her hand at her.

"Well, it sounds like fun," Savannah said to Gloria. "Who would I call about joining?"

"Me or Bernadine," she said, looking at Robin. "We don't have what you call an open membership. There's about fifteen of us, but we do have an advisory board, which you could probably get on. See if you can make it to the meeting next month. That's when we'll be forming committees for Sisters' Nite Out and discussing a few ongoing projects."

"I'll do that," Savannah said.

Robin didn't say another word. She hated committee work; it took up too much time: calling folks, trying to solicit money and time from people who for whatever reason could never do this or that. Bernadine was so busy looking around the room-which was now pretty crowded-that she wasn't listening to Gloria's spiel about BWOTM. Besides she knew it all already.

Gloria got up for something to eat, and Bernadine lit a cigarette. "I'll be glad when you give up that filthy habit," Robin said.

"I'll be glad when you give up some of your filthy habits," Bernadine replied, and started rocking her body to the beat of the musi
c c
oming through the doorway. People were now flocking through it, and Robin and Savannah looked at the other tables, most of which were occupied by women who were also looking around at other tables. "I feel like dancing," Bernadine said, and jumped up. She walked straight over to the bar and took Herbert's hand, and the two of them disappeared through the door to the dance floor.

"Is she getting bold or what?" Robin asked Savannah.

"I don't know, but Bernadine is on it tonight."

Gloria sat back down. Robin was surprised to see that she hadn't piled up her plate. "I'm on a diet," she said. "Just kidding. I had dinner before I got here."

Savannah and Robin watched Gloria eat and occasionally looked around the room, waiting for someone to ask them to dance. But no one approached them. Three more songs came and went, and still no one invited them. Savannah was tempted to ask somebody, but she didn't see anybody she wanted to meet, let alone dance with. If the men in here were a representative sample of what was available in Phoenix, she might as well forget about it.