Waiting to Exhale (45 page)

"Then put the shit on," Bernadine said.

"And she's got Teddy Pendergrass, no less, and Aretha and Gladys and The Temptations! Gloria, you've got all the oldies over here, girl!"

"Put Rick on first, with his nasty ass," Savannah said.

"I would love to have given him some," Robin said.

"That nasty motherfucker!" Bernadine said. "Be serious."

"I am serious. He could've got some of this. I swear. You check out those lips? And that little tight ass of his and that bulge in his pants? Now tell me the truth. If Rick James came over to your house and offered to do it to you, you'd turn him down?"

"Yes."

"That's bullshit."

"I went out with a musician once," Savannah said. "Never again."

"Why?"

"They're whores."

"What man isn't?" Robin said.

"All men are not whores, Robin. But musicians can get women in every city they play in. We're like pit stops."

"That's why God invented condoms," Bernadine said. "No man, and no amount of dick is worth dying over."

As quiet as is kept, Robin hadn't exactly been using them as often as she should've. At least not with Russell. And if she got pregnant, she'd already decided to keep it.

"Toast!" Bernadine said, after she'd poured all four glasses.

"Wait," Savannah said. "Where's the hats and shit?" She dumped the bagful of birthday paraphernalia onto the floor, and everybody grabbed something and put on a hat. "Okay, okay," she said. "I've got a good one. Gloria, I just want you to know that you're the best hairdresser in this town and I'm glad I met you and I hope turning thirty-eight is your best year yet!"

"That was tired," Robin said, and stood up. "I hope you find true love and get some that's so good it'll make up for all the years you didn't! Now."

"Happy birthday, girlfriend," Bernadine said. "Here's to finding genuine happiness and peace of mind."

"Thank you," Gloria said, and they all drank up.

Bernadine poured everybody another round. "I love this shit," she said. "Champagne makes me silly as hell."

"You're already silly as hell," Robin said.

"I'd rather be silly than dizzy," she said.

"Go to hell," Robin said.

"All right, let's not start this shit," Savannah said. "Turn the music up. Where's the cake?"

"In the kitchen," Gloria said. "I'll go get it."

"You ready to blow out the candles already?"

"No, I can wait," she said.

"Let's order the pizza. Domino's guarantees it'll be here in thirty minutes."

"Please no pepperoni for me," Savannah said.

"I can't eat it without pepperoni," Robin said.

"I don't care," Gloria said.

"Then let's get two. One with and one without."

"Minnie Ripperton and Smokey Robinson!" Robin yelled.

"Put them aside," Savannah said. She sat down on the floor next to Robin. They were looking through about a million albums, putting the best ones to the side.

"Stevie and Roberta, girls. Wait! The Emotions! We're going back in time tonight, sistahs. Hey. Let's go all the way!"

"I don't want to hear nothing that'll make me cry," Bernadine said.

"I do," Robin said, and started laughing.

"I don't, either," Savannah said.

"Does this turntable work?" Robin asked.

"Of course it works," Gloria said, and downed her entire glass of champagne.

"Okay," Robin said. "Check this out. Tell me who it reminds you of, and don't lie."

The three of them sat there frozen in place, their ears geared up, all set to recognize the first few chords of the song. That's all it ever took.

"Oh. no!" Savannah veiled, and fell on the floor.

"Shit," Bernadine said.

Robin had put on Teddy Pendergrass, singing "Turn Off the Lights."

"Why'd you have to play that shit?" Savannah said, and took her cigarettes out of her purse and lit one.

"Go ahead. Cry, girlfriend! Let it out!" Robin yelled.

"Don't you have any M
. C
. Hammer, or Bobby Brown?" Bernadine asked.

Gloria was laughing, then got a sad look on her face as she poured herself another glass of champagne. She got up and refilled everybody else's glass. "I don't have anybody to remember for that song."

"Girl, please," Robin said. "I was in love with this creep. That seems to be a pattern I have, now that I think about it. Falling in love with creeps. But anyway, his name was . . . Damn, what was his name?"

"I was in love with John for real back then," Bernadine said, looking all starry-eyed and swaying her head to the beat of the music.

"I was going out with this guy named Al, and Lord, could he do the wild thing. That's all we did was fucked, but it was worth it! He had the biggest dick in the universe. I was strung out on the shit too. I don't even want to think about it. Turn out the lights!" Savannah yelled. She started snapping her fingers and closed her eyes. But she wasn't thinking about Al at all. She was thinking about Kenneth. "Hey," she said, "let me play something." Savannah put on another album. "This should do it to you ladies!"

The doorbell rang and scared everybody half to death. "It's the pizza," Gloria said. She hunched up her shoulders and started giggling. She thought the shit was funny. "Who's got the money? I'm not paying for this birthday pizza. Church up, ladies."

"Did she just say 'church up'?" Bernadine asked. "Gloria, you've got a teenaged son; get your language together, girl. Nobody says that tired shit anymore!" Bernadine started laughing, stopped long enough to guzzle down her champagne, then reached in her purse and got out two twenties. "I feel like it's my birthday!"

"Okay! Listen to this!" Savannah howled. She'd put on "One Hundred Ways" by James Ingram. But now even she thought mayb
e i
t was a bad move. It wasn't hard to place that song. She was living with Raymond. Damn. She was trying to remember what made them break up. Her mind was too cloudy, so she poured herself another glass of champagne.

"Anybody ready for pizza?" Bernadine asked.

Savannah and Robin shook their heads no. They were too into the music. Gloria didn't bother to answer but took the boxes into the kitchen, where she immediately opened one, looked at the pizza, and said out loud, "No." She put them both in the oven, turned it on warm, then started popping her fingers and rejoined her friends.

"You know what I want?" Savannah was saying.

"No. What do you want?" Robin asked.

"I want to feel like this goddamn record. I want a man to find a hundred ways to love me."

"Keep dreaming," Bernadine said.

"I don't get it," Savannah said.

"Don't get what?" Robin said.

"Why can't we ever feel like the record? Like these: 'Just once, let me be your angel.' " She was flipping through them, forming a giant pile. " 'Be the best of my love,' and oh shit, this! 'Can't hide love' by Earth, Wind and fucking Fire!"

"Stop/" Bernadine said.

"Fuck you! 'When doves cry' by that weird-ass Prince, but it worked, right? Ow! 'The first time ever I saw your goddamn face' by Roberta Flack! And my man Al Green, 'Let's stay together.' I want to roll all these songs up and feel like this for the next thirty years. Is that asking for too much? If it is, why do they make these damn songs to make you think and believe and dream that you can feel like this? Huh? Somebody had to have gone through this shit in order to write it and sing about it, don't you think?"

"You're going off, Savannah," Bernadine said.

"I am not. I'm a little drunk, and I'm glad to be drunk," she said. "But let me ask you sistahs something. And tell me if I'm crazy. What is it we all have in common?"

"We're black and female," Gloria said, and started with the giggling again.

"Funny Fanny. I'm serious."

"Don't go getting all deep on us," Bernadine said.

"I'm not getting deep. Yes I am. Maybe that's what's wrong with us: we're not deep enough. We need to get deeper." Then she shook her head back and forth as if she was trying to rattle her brains. "I'm getting off-track. What was I saying?"

"Something about what we have in common," Robin said.

"Yeah. Anyway, you know what we have in common? And it's a damn shame?"

Everybody waited for this revelation.

"None of us have a man."

"I don't want one, either," Bernadine said.

"So what?" Gloria said. "Men ain't everything. When are you gonna realize that? I'm having a good time sitting here acting silly with you guys, and do you think if any of us had a man we'd be here doing this?"

"That's precisely my point," Savannah said. "If. But we don't. And let me say this up front. If I had a man and it was your birthday and you were going to be over here by yourself all lonely and shit and Robin and Bernie called me up to come over here to help you celebrate, I'd still be here, girl. So don't ever think a man would have that much power over me that I'd stop caring about my friends. And that's the truth, Ruth. Did you see that movie?"

"Do the Right Thing.>" Gloria asked.

"Yeah."

"No, I didn't see that one yet."

"I saw it twice," Robin said. "Spike Lee is serious."

"I think he's sexy," Savannah said. "Anyway, we're getting all off on another subject here."

"Gloria, your turn to play a record," Bernadine said.

"There's nothing in particular I want to hear."

"Well, that makes a statement too," Bernadine said, and dropped her head. "You know what? I'm mad." She was slurring, but nobody even noticed.

"About what?" Robin asked.

"About every goddamn thing. I gave that bastard eleven of the best years of my goddamn life, and he leaves me for a trifling scabby- ass white bitch! And now here I am over the hill and shit-"

"You're only thirty-six, damn, and don't ever let me hear you say some simple shit like that," Savannah said. "You-hell, we all look better than some of these chicks out here in their twenties. Now tell me I'm lying. And I know I'm not a ten."

"You are a ten, bitch, and you know it. Your false modesty kills me," Bernadine said.

"Well, I'm a six," Robin interjected.

"We're all tens," Bernadine said, laughing. "It just depends on who's judging us. Right?"

"Well, thank you, sister," Savannah said, and lit a cigarette. "Anyway, as soon as I give up these cigarettes, it'll take a few years off me. Look at Gloria. Her ass is as big as a house, and she's still pretty. I just wish I could put your behind on a diet and stop you from eating all them hog maws and shit. Fifty less pounds, and your whole life would change."

"That's bullshit," Robin said. "I don't need to lose any weight. What's my problem?"

"Don't let me get started," Bernadine said.

"Go to hell," Robin said. "Am I not a good catch or what?"

"We're all good catches," Bernadine said.

"Why are we all such good goddamn catches?" Savannah asked, leaning forward on her elbows and motioning for the other bottle of champagne.

"Because we've got good hearts and we're good lays and we're nice people. Isn't that enough?" Bernadine said.

"Well, since you know so damn much, why are we having such a hard-ass time meeting Mr. Wonderful?" Robin asked.

Nobody had the answer to that one.

Bernadine gathered her thoughts and spoke as carefully as she possibly could. "Because you want one too bad. That's why."

"What's wrong with that?" Robin asked.

"Look, I've got a whole lot of other things on my mind besides men," Bernadine muttered.

"We know that," Robin said. "I do too. Shit, my daddy's dying."

"My mama's rent went up," Savannah said. "And thanks to President Bush, my younger brother's over in the fucking Persian Gulf, waiting to find out if he's going to be in a goddamn war. I'm gettin
g d
own to the wire on the cash level. And my mama depends on me. If you want to know the truth, I hate my job," Savannah said. "So men aren't the only thing on my mind either. It just seems that way because we talk about 'em all the time."

Robin took another sip of her champagne and let her eyes roll up in her head as if she was pondering over something. Then it was as if a light bulb went on in her head. "We're all stupid."

"Speak for yourself," Bernadine said.

"I'm serious. The ones that are good for us we find dull and boring, like Michael, for instance, and then we pick the assholes, like Russell, the ones who won't cooperate, the ones who offer us the most challenge and get our blood flowing and shit. Those are the motherfuckers we fall in love with."

"Thank you, Mrs. Nietzsche," Savannah said. "But I don't think I fall into that category personally. I just haven't met the kind of man I need."

"Which is what?" Robin asked.