Authors: Terry McMillan
Tags: #African American Studies, #Arizona, #Social Science, #Phoenix (Ariz.), #Contemporary, #General, #Romance, #African American women, #Female friendship, #Ethnic Studies, #African American, #Fiction, #African American men, #Love Stories
Bernadine looked surprised, as if she hadn't been in the kitchen in a long time. "Ants?" she said, and walked over. She reached under the sink and got out some insect spray and started spraying like she was possessed. "I hate this damn house, you know that? Next it'll be termites. Sit down, girl. Can I get you something to drink?"
"A Coke would be nice."
"I don't have Coke, just Pepsi."
"What's the difference?"
John junior and Onika came running out of their bedrooms whe
n t
hey heard another voice. "Hi, Miss Gloria," they said in unison. "Where's Tarik?"
"Home where he belongs," Gloria said.
"Our daddy doesn't live here anymore," Onika said.
"I know that," Gloria said.
"You two get back in the room and finish doing whatever it was you were doing. Miss Gloria came over here to talk to me. So please, let grown folks talk to grown folks."
"Can we have a Pepsi?" John junior asked.
"Yes. Get it yourselves and then scram. I mean it."
They did just that, while Gloria and Bernadine sat down at opposite ends of the sofa. The TV was off. "Did you watch The Love Boat?" Gloria asked.
"Girl, I couldn't."
"I was hoping something as stupid as that would help take your mind off of things."
Bernadine did look a little spaced, but Gloria couldn't tell if it was from those pills or because her friend was stressed to the hilt. "Are you still taking those pills for your nerves?"
"Sometimes. Why?"
"You're not taking too many of'em, are you?"
"No, girl. I mainly take 'em at night, so I can get to sleep."
"Are you sure you're okay?" Gloria asked her again.
"Gloria, I might end up having to sell the house, because there's no way I can pay a three-thousand-dollar mortgage if John keeps this shit up. Just the thought of having to go through more aggravation is wearing me out."
"What makes you think your only option would be to sell it?"
"Because it's the prize I got for marrying that son of a bitch. He signed the deed over to me. But even though the judge ordered him to pay the mortgage, my lawyer said that by the time we go back to court to enforce it, the fucking house could be in foreclosure."
"Your lawyer told you that?"
"Yep."
"Damn. You sure she knows what she's doing?" was all Gloria could think to say.
"Yeah, she knows what she's doing, all right. And my five- thousand-dollar retainer is used up, and you won't even believe how much I owe her now."
"How much?"
"Thirty-four hundred, and it'll keep on going up until this mess is settled. Plus, I'm paying for a private investigator now too. She knows I don't have this kind of money, but thank God she's a woman. She's being real nice about it. She told me to pay her two hundred a month, or whatever I can afford, until we settle."
"So sell this damn house and get a smaller place. You don't need all this space anyway."
"That's what my lawyer told me I should do too. But you know what the market is like for houses like this? Just look at how many For Sale signs you see in the entire valley, not to mention up here in this area alone. I could end up sitting on this house for a long time."
"Not necessarily, but I wouldn't be worrying about that right now if I were you."
"Oh, no? What do you think I should be worrying about, Gloria?"
"I don't know. Getting a better job."
"Getting a better job? Oh, you think I'm in a frame of mind to be job hunting? My marriage is over; I'm stuck in a big-ass house I can't afford and may have to move; my devoted husband has left me for some white cunt, and he's out there having the time of his fucking life, living like a goddamn bachelor, and he's probably fucking his brains out right this minute; and I'm sitting here with my girlfriend on a Friday night, going fucking crazy because I don't know what the fuck is happening to my life and I have no fucking idea what the future holds for me and my kids because I never had to think about so much shit at once until now!"
"Take it easy, Bernie."
Gloria thought Bernadine would be in tears, but she wasn't. "I'm sorry," she said, composing herself. "I could just kill him for what he's doing to my life. I swear I could just kill him."
"I agree," Gloria said, surprising herself.
"Thank God somebody does."
"What about the kids? How are they handling this?"
"Onika is fine, but John junior is fucking up in school. His teacher has sent two notes home in the last two weeks. She said he stare
s o
ut the goddamn window when he should be paying attention. She said she tells him to do something, and ten minutes later he can't remember what she said. He forgot his homework two days in a row, and yesterday he lost his good jacket. I know he's going through changes too, so I'm trying not to go off. But shit, all of this is wearing me out. I feel like I'm being split into little tiny pieces and every single part of me has to perform at optimum capacity."
"They say divorce is harder on boys than it is on girls."
"Then that theory is accurate in this house. I just have to keep talking to him. That's all I can do."
"If I ask you something, you promise you won't get mad?"
"What?" Bernadine said.
"Have you been messing around with that Herbert man?"
Bernadine started laughing. "What makes you think I'm doing anything with Herbert?"
"I was just wondering. Savannah said you've been going out a lot, because you're never home."
"That's bullshit. I've been out a couple of nights in the past week or two. Savannah doesn't know what she's talking about."
"So?"
"So?"
"Are you or aren't you?"
"I've spent a little time with him, yeah."
"Bernie?"
"Bernie, my ass. I can't just sit around here and wither up. I'm a woman, and I've got needs like any other woman, and hell, he's a nice man."
"Yeah, but he's married."
"So what? I don't want to marry him. I'm just fucking him."
"How can you say that?"
"Say what?"
"That you're just sleeping with him for the hell of it."
"Easy. Men've been doing this shit for years."
"Yeah, but what if you end up really liking him?"
"I already like him, but big deal. I'm not falling in love with his ass, and I'm not trying to take him from his damn wife. It's just nice to know I can get what I need when I need it."
"You mean sex?"
"No, Gloria. A Tootsie Roll. You should know this shit, I swear. I'm talking about having somebody around to talk to, having somebody put their arms around you and tell you everything is going to be fine and not to worry. Even if the shit is a lie, it still feels good."
"And how long do you think you can play house?"
"I'm not playing house. I told you, I don't want to marry the motherfucker. Marriage is the last thing on my mind right now. Hell, I'm still married, so as far as we're both concerned, this shit is real safe."
Gloria just shook her head.
"If it's any consolation, Gloria, the kids don't know he exists, and he hasn't even been in my house."
"Well, it's your house," she said. "You can do whatever you wanna do in it."
For the next hour, the two of them sat there, watched music videos on VH-1, and said few words to each other. Bernadine chainsmoked and drank two glasses of wine, and when the phone rang, Gloria could tell it was Herbert, because Bernadine's whole attitude changed. She actually sounded like a schoolgirl with a crush, talking on the phone. When she finally hung up, Gloria had gone through a ninety-nine-cent bag of Lay's potato chips and another Pepsi. "Happy now?" Gloria said. Bernadine simply smiled. "Would you mind if I used the phone a minute, Cinderella?"
Bernadine handed it to her, still with that silly-ass grin on her face. The phone rang ten times.
"I'll kill him!" she said.
"Who? Tarik?"
"Who else? One day that boy's gonna get my pressure up so high, he's gonna give me a heart attack. I've got to go. I told him not to leave that damn house. He's grounded. And I don't know which is worse, trying to raise a teenage son or dealing with a husband who leaves you for a white woman."
Bernadine didn't bother to answer that. She was too busy dialing the baby-sitter's number.
Gloria didn't yell out his name like she usually did when she got home. She walked straight upstairs and saw that his door was stil
l c
losed. Instead of knocking, she barged right on in, and stopped dead in her tracks. She put her hand across her chest and pressed down on it in order to catch her breath. Her eyes had to be lying to her, because her son was sitting on the edge of his bed with his pants down to his ankles, his legs open, and that sleazy little white heffa who lived two doors down the street was on her knees, doing what Gloria didn't want to think she was doing with her face buried between his legs. She didn't notice the look of horror on Tarik's face until after she screamed, 41Get out of my goddamn house!" He pushed the girl away and stood up so fast that all Gloria could do was back away from the door.
She ran down the stairs and sat down in the living room. Her head was spinning. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw a pink blur whisk past her. She heard the front door open and close, and then her son, tall and black, was standing in front of her.
"I'm sorry, Ma."
Gloria coughed. "Sorry? Sorry about what, Tarik?"
"That you found me like this."
"Tarik, how long have you been sneaking this girl in this house like this?"
"Not that long."
"I told you you were grounded."
"You said don't leave the house, and I didn't."
"I'm about sick of this shit, you know that. If your daddy wasn't gay, I swear I'd send your black ass straight to him."
"If he wasn't what?"
Shit, Gloria thought. Shit shit shit. She forgot just that fast that she hadn't told the boy. Shit. Shit shit shit. Well, shit. It was done now. So to hell with it. "You heard me."
"You mean he's a faggot?"
"I don't like that word."
"Faggot, homo, gay-what's the difference? I told you something was wrong with him, didn't I? But you wouldn't listen to me." He sat down next to Gloria. "So my daddy s a faggot," he said, and started laughing. "Well, Ma, at least you know one thing," he said, and tried to contain his laughter. "It definitely doesn't run in the family."
"Watch your mouth," she said.
"I'm sorry."
"You're sorry about everything, aren't you, Tarik? You're sorry about your grades. You're sorry about the way you treated your daddy-and I don't care what he is. You're sorry about getting expelled from school, and now you're sorry because you're letting white girls come in my house to suck your sixteen-year-old dick. What's next? Will it be drugs? Is that what you'll want me to deal with next? Huh?"
"No."
Gloria didn't know she'd gone from mad to hysterical. "Just get out of my face!"
Tarik got up, walked away with his head down, headed toward the stairs, and stopped. "How'd you find out he was a homo?" he asked.
Gloria took a deep breath and dropped her head on the back of the couch. "Just go to bed," she said. "Just close the damn door and go to bed."
Chapter
12
Robin was late again, something I was starting to notice was a bad habit of hers. I was sitting in the steam room, feeling pretty energized because I'd done a whole half hour of aerobics and ten minutes on the Lifecycle. This was a major accomplishment, considering that the first time I came in here I only lasted five.
"Savannah, you in here, girl?"
"Yep, up here," I said.
She walked in, closed the door, and collapsed on the botto
m b
ench. "These white folks are trying to drive me crazy, you know that?"
"Why? What's going on?"
"First of all, there's four other underwriters in my office besides me, okay?"
"Okay."
"Well, a few months ago, Marva has a perfectly healthy baby. Her first. She's thirty-nine, but she looks fifty. Anyway, it seems like every other week this baby gets some kind of new ailment, and Marva freaks out, drops everything, and dashes home. So this morning it gets sick again, and of course Marva goes home. She was in the middle of underwriting an account, and guess who got stuck finishing it?"
"You, no doubt."
"Yeah. I mean, why couldn't they ask Molly or Norman to do it? They didn't have anything pressing. Although it does take Norman all day to do nothing, and I guess I'm supposed to be flattered. Well, I'm not. I want to know when they're gonna stop testing me. I've proven myself a million times over. They know they can count on me when the pressure's on. That's what the real deal is, which is why this just burns me up. When was the last time I got a raise, thank you very much? I can't wait to see what kind of bonus I get come Christmas. I had to skip my lunch hour, girl, and tomorrow I have to get up at the crack of dawn, be in there no later than seven in order to finish, or we might lose the account. And watch. Marva'll come strolling in the office all set to pick up where I left off; she'll get all the credit or mess up everything I've done."