Just Talk to Me (AriQui #1) Page 3

  So later that afternoon, he comes over and lets himself in. I told him, “I'm in the room”.

  He comes to the room, head hung down, sunglasses on so he doesn’t have to look me right in the eye or should I say so I can't look him in the eye. I asked him why.

  Was I so bad that he had to go sleep with another woman?

  Was I not giving him what he needed?

  Do you know he gave me the bullshit answer that I was pushing him in a direction he didn't want to go. Negro, please!

  Nobody had a damn gun to his head, pushing him in the wrong direction. I said I'm a good woman and you've never experienced that before. I mean if taking the last of what I have to throw a birthday party for your son because things were really financially strapped for you, because I love you; If that’s pushing you in the wrong direction then excuse me for being a good woman.

  If supporting you and being there for you when your family was turning their back on you and friends weren't there for you, making sure you had a place to lay your head every night, a good meal in your stomach every night, lunch every day when you went to work; if that was pushing you in a direction you didn't want to go in, again, excuse me for being a good woman.

  So I said “Can I get a better answer than some bullshit?”

  He looked at me and said, “Okay, it was just me. I can’t explain it. I just got greedy.”

  I said, “And got your ass busted.” I kinda chuckled, shook my head, said “Whatever.”

  I handed him his stuff, took back my keys, and told him when he felt like he could be a man and come clean, to let me know. I pointed and said, “You know your way out.”

  A few weeks went by and it was strange! Our conversation got better: it was crazy! And before long, you guessed it, we were back together.

  I gave him the benefit of the doubt because we all make mistakes, we all do things that are unforgivable. I kept thinking how God forgives me when I do worse than what he did so I decided, one more try. Things were going great once again. And then, train wreck.

  He calls me one day and says, “I think I need to be alone and be single so I can develop some things on my own. I feel that I can’t really give you what you need.”

  Really? With all we've been through this year and a half, you don't think you can give me what I need?

  So yes, I’ve been devastated ever since and yes, I'm a little reckless. I'm a little out there but tell me, who wouldn't be? Right now it’s the only way I know how to deal with the pain. Ange doesn't know the true whole story; she's going by what she sees. Maybe someday soon I'll explain it to her. But for now, I'm going to enjoy doing me.

  ***

  Back at Le’Reaux’s, it's business as usual. The shop is packed at 3 p.m. in the afternoon when Myra arrives from her appointment with Dr. Franklin.

  “Hey Cynthia, I'm here, girl. Thanks for holding it down for me. You are awesome.”

  “No problem, really. Are you okay?”

  “Yeah, I'm fine. So what do I have next?”

  “Well, a new client will be here at 4 p.m. His name is Maxwell, he's coming in for a cut.”

  “Well, why didn't you or James take him?”

  “He specifically asked for you.”

  “Really? Hmm. Well, I guess I will just have to wait and see.” A few minutes later, her boys come in to the shop. Nathan runs and jumps in his mom’s arms.

  “Hey, my baby, how was school?”

  “Good, Mama,” as she leans to give Immanuel a kiss on the cheek.

  “Thanks for picking up your brother for me.”

  “No problem, Mom. Are you all right?”

  “Yes, baby, I'm good. I left the roast in the oven on low so it should be done, and the potatoes and green beans are on the stove.”

  “Okay, Mom. What time will you be home?”

  “I should be there around six.” Giving her kings a hug, she says, “Be careful crossing the street and, Nathan you listen and mind your Bo Bo.”

  “Okay,” Nathan replies as they walk out the door. Myra heads to the back office to sit down for a moment to breathe. She hears a knock on the door.

  ***

  Max is sitting at lunch with Keith. “Max, did you make the call?”

  “Yeah, man, I made an appointment for 4 p.m. To get my haircut. I said I wanted her specifically.”

  “Okay, player, I’ll see you.”

  “Whatever, man. Make sure you tell Monique I said thank you.”

  “Yeah, when I see her.”

  “Keith, you know you’re trying to figure out how to see her tonight.”

  “Well Max, maybe if you can score up an outing with Ms. Le’Reaux, we could double and then I can see her.”

  “Always gotta be something in it for you.”

  “Well, I might as well get something out of it after what I had to put myself through to find out who she was.”

  “Oh, like that was so painful for you.” Looking at his watch, Max says, “I better get back to the office to finish up. Almost time to head to Le’Reaux’s.”

  ***

  “Yes.”

  “Your 4 p.m. is here, Myra.”

  “Okay, I'll be right out. Please have him washed and prepped.”

  “Okay, girl. He is fine.”

  Myra freshens up and then heads out to her area. She is standing with her back to the door and getting her tools ready when Max walks over. “Is this where I sit?” he says.

  Without looking up, she says, “Yes.”

  “Thank you, Queen,” Max responds, grabbing her attention.

  As she slowly looks up in the mirror to see the man from dinner and the club a few weeks ago, Myra almost loses her breath.

  “You're welcome,” stumbles out of her mouth. Max takes a seat in the chair.

  ***

  A few weeks later, the four of them are sitting at the table at the Ruth’s Chris Steak House, laughing and enjoying each other’s company.

  “So, Myra, tell me again how Mr. Smooth introduced himself to you.”

  “Well, as you know, he came to the shop and was my 4 p.m. appointment a few weeks ago. He introduced himself as Max, a friend of Keith’s. I asked him why he’d asked for me and not one of my super talented barbers. He replied-”

  Max interrupts. “I only wanted to be touched by the hands of a queen.”

  Myra elbows Max in the side and laughs. “Anyway, he began to allude to the fact that he had seen me the weekend we girls were out on the town a while back. You remember, Monique, the night you and Keith got reacquainted.”

  “Oh yeah,” says Monique. “As he was leaving-”

  Max interrupts again. “I said,” clearing his throat, “and I quote, ‘Thank you for using your gifted hands to give me such a clean shave and cut, my queen.’ As I watched her walk to the counter to make my payment, I knew this was my only chance and I had better make good on it. So I looked her in the eyes and said that I would not accept no for an answer; a yes from her was the only acceptable response. Her big beautiful eyes widened as I continue to tell her that I was taking her to dinner Friday, December 2nd at 7 p.m.

  She opened her mouth and said, ‘Well, Mr. Anderson, can a woman at least get a phone call or two before the date?’ and handed me her card with her number on it.”

  “Damn! You rock, girl. I thought Max had the corner on being smooth. Looks like he may have met his match,” Keith explained.

  ***

  Back at Angelina’s, the fireplace is lit and soft, jazz is playing in the background and two chilled wine glasses with a bottle of Cristal sitting on the table. The doorbell rings.

  “Just a moment,” Angelina calls as she approaches the door. Opening the door, she is greeted with Jonathan's warm smile and a bouquet of roses.

  “Come in, baby.”

  As he steps inside, she gives him a warm embrace. Damn, he is so sexy. I love the way this man smells. She leads him to the white, plush, bearskin rug in front of the fireplace.

  Jonathan reaches for the gla
sses and the bottle of Cristal and pours them a glass. “Baby, do you remember the night we got reacquainted?”

  “How can I forget that night?” says Angelina. “It was the night we all ended up at the same club in Miami. I was on the dance floor and I kept feeling like someone was staring at me. When I finally turned around, I connected with your eyes, like, for a brief moment. Later that night I was sitting at the bar talking to this guy and right when he pulled out his phone to give me his number, you reached across the aisle and gently squeezed my wrist. A chill I will never forget went straight up my spine.”

  Jonathan laughs.

  “What's so funny, baby?”

  “Nothing. I was just thinking about what happened on the dance floor.”

  She smiles. “You mean when I was walking off the dance floor and you gently grabbed my hand and told me I couldn't leave yet?”

  “No, sweetheart. When I told you I was going to kidnap you for the night. Before you knew what came out of your mouth you said okay. The look of shock on your face was priceless.”

  “Shut up. I know I looked retarded.” They laugh. “I remember how you told me you weren’t trying to get me in bed because you could have been with anyone if that was all you wanted, but that you just did not want the night to end and you just wanted to make the moment last. I remember as we were driving in the car, I kept saying to myself, ‘tell him never mind and to take you home,’ but I just couldn't get the words out. And then we got to your place. It was so manly but sexy, I ‘specially liked the kitchen. We walked in and you gave me the grand tour.

  “A little later I asked if it was possible if I could take a shower because I hate being all sticky from dancing all night. You told me yes and led me up the stairs to the bathroom then laid out a towel and washcloth, soap, lotion, the works. I thought, ‘wow he's done this for before.’ I went in, undressed and got in the shower. It was so hot. It felt so good on my body. You came in and peeked at my silhouette as you left the robe for me. I got out, dried off and lotion up, put on the t-shirt and the robe and came out. I stood at the top of the stairs looking over the rail. y

  You looked up at me and took a deep breath. I asked you what was wrong. You told me that no woman, nor your sons, had been in that robe and how beautiful I looked. That I looked like a beautiful goddess. I smiled, came down the stairs and sat next to you.

  “We talked about so much until eventually I was lying between your legs with my head on your chest, listening to your heartbeat. And then the conversation went from casual to intimate… not sexual but intimate. You began to get inside my head and without you even touching me in any inappropriate way, my body reacted. That was one of the most powerful explosive experiences I have ever had. It was like out of a scene from Waiting to Exhale. We lay in your bed in each other’s arms all night.”

  “Wow, you do remember, baby.” They click the glasses together and say cheers.

  ***

  It’s 11 p.m. My girls are out and I am bored as hell. She picks up the phone and dials into the chat line to record her greeting.

  “Hello, this is Kiki. I am 5 feet 4, caramel complexion, single, brown eyes, dimples, short hair and I can't sleep. Anyone out there who can give me something good to dream about tonight?”

  About five minutes later, a message comes through and says, “Hello, Kiki. I understand that you can't sleep and you're looking for a dream. Well, tell me what makes a good dream for you and I’ll see what I can do to help create one. I am 5 feet 7, basketball-built, bald head, goatee and hazel eyes. Thomas.”

  She replies, “Hello, Thomas, a good dream for me can be something full of fun and laughter, like being a kid on a roller coaster, or something wishful like romance or something intimate like a first date.” Her phone notifies her there is a message from Thomas.

  “Well, miss lady, is it possible to exchange numbers, I hope, and talk about this dream of yours? My number is 404-588-5445. Let me know.”

  She responds, “Yes, Thomas, my number is 404-556-9845 and I will be waiting for your call.” Five minutes later the phone rings. She answers. “Hello.”

  “Yes, may I speak with Kiki? This is Thomas.”

  “This is Kiki nice to meet you.”

  “Before we get to the dream, tell me about Kiki.” They go back and forth for about an hour, filling each other in on little details about who they are.

  “Well, Thomas, I work as a graphics designer for a magazine firm. Never been married and no children.”

  “Okay, Kiki, well I have never been married either. I have no children and I am a chef.”

  Finally Kiki asked Thomas for a picture; he sends one to her phone and she sends one in return. When they see each other, they're startled to realize they have met before. “Wow,” Kiki says, “you were at the club that night, weren't you?”

  “Yes, I was. I thought you were sexy then and I think you are still sexy now.”

  She blushes. “Thank you.”

  “So, about this dream, I'll start it and you add to it. Is that okay?”

  “Okay,” she says.

  “I call you while I'm at work to tell you I can't stop thinking about you and I ask you how your day is going. I ask you if you are still able to accompany me to the black-tie affair I mentioned to you on the phone the night before. You tell me yes and a warm smile comes across my face. I let you know that I will pick you up at 7:30 sharp. We share a few more sweet words between us and I say goodbye and see you soon.”

  “Well, from there I get to Le’Reaux’s about 2 p.m. the day for my full spa appointment. I get my nails and feet done, a full body wrap, a massage, a facial and my hair and makeup done. I get home around 5 p.m. I don't even have to shower because I had the steam bath as part of my treatment. I turn on some music, pour myself a glass of wine, go to my closet and pull out my dress and shoes for the night. I finish getting dressed and await your arrival.”

  “Nice. Well, I get to the door and knock. The door opens and there in front of me stands a vision of perfection. You look so yummy I can hardly contain myself. We walk to the car, I open the door and you slide in so gracefully. We head to the event. Kiki, are you there?” Hearing her gentle breathing on the line, he realizes that she has fallen asleep. “Goodnight, beautiful. We’ll continue another time,” and he hangs up the phone.

  ***

  In the car headed home after a wonderful dinner, Myra is looking out the window in deep thought. “Myra, Myra, are you okay, baby?” asks Maxwell.

  Coming to herself, she says, “What? Oh yes, I'm fine.”

  “Can I ask where your thoughts took you?”

  “Nowhere really, I mean I was just thinking, well, see, nothing.”

  “Baby, come on, you can tell me what's on your mind. Just talk to me.”

  “Maxwell, can I ask you a question?”

  “Yes, sweetheart, what is it?”

  “Before I ask, I need you to understand that your answer means a lot and I need you to be completely honest with me. I want you to answer for you, not because you think it's what I want to hear.”

  “Okay, baby. What is it?”

  “Maxwell, what are your core values?”

  Maxwell smiles at her and answers immediately. “My core values, as you put it, love, is my relationship with God, having stability, family and friends.”

  Wow, Myra thinks, this is the first time I didn't get a ‘huh?’ or ‘what are you talking about?’ There could really be something to this man. She smiles back at him.

  “Is that what was troubling your mind, baby girl?”

  “Well, we’ve talked over the phone, had our first date but really, what do we know about each other? I mean, is it too soon to make a request like this, Max?”

  “Myra, I have wanted to go deeper in our conversations but I didn't want to overstep any boundaries with you.”

  “Really?” says Myra. “And here I've been thinking the same thing.” They look at each other and crack up.

  Coming to a red light, Max stops
the car and grabs her hand.

  “Sweetheart, listen, I want to know everything about you. What brings you joy, what makes you sad, what frightens you, what gives you strength. I want to know, understand and appreciate your core values. Those things that make you who you are. Myra, if you're wondering if I'm interested. I am. If you're wondering if I want to be serious with you. I do.”

  Driving into her driveway, he parks the car.

  “And if you want to know if this is about getting you in bed, baby, be assured it's not. Myra, I don't want to date you,” her eyes widen with confusion. “I want to court you.”

  “Court me? Wow. I don't even know what to say.”

  “You don't need to say anything. Let me walk you to your door. Listen, you are a queen. A man who can’t value or appreciate that, well, he's not a man.”

  “Maxwell, I-.”

  “Don't say a thing.” He kisses her on the forehead and nose and then her cheek. “I'll call you when I get home.” Myra stares as she watches Maxwell drive off.

  ***

  “Good morning, this is Monique Johnson. Is Keith available?”

  “Yes, Ms. Johnson, I will transfer you now.”

  “Hello, this is Keith Bryant speaking.”

  “Hello, Keith, this is Monique.”

  “Hey baby girl, how are you?”

  “I'm okay. A little under the weather but okay.”

  “Do you need anything? Anything I can do for you?”

  “No, I'll be fine. Keith, I was calling to see if you and I can get together sometime within the next week. I really need to talk to you about a few things.”

  “Okay, baby, is everything okay?”

  “Yes, Keith. I just feel like I owe you a complete and honest explanation of why things went so wrong between us. Spending time with you these last few months has made me realize that you deserve at least that, if not more.”

  “Okay, Monique, why don't we get together next Thursday afternoon, say, 2 p.m?”

  “That works great for me, Keith. I will call you when I get back into town next week.”

  “Okay, baby. Be safe and tell your sisters I said hello.”

  “I will, baby. Talk to you soon.” Monique hangs up the phone with tears in her eyes as her twin sisters Tristan and Tori hug her.