So You Call Yourself a Man Page 11

  “You can try, Brother Williams. You can try.”

  I can’t speak for Alison, but I couldn’t stop blushing, even when we entered the church, because after Shorty, the next person I saw was Jackie, who was wearing a long choir robe. My mind was flooded with one thought and only one thought. Was Jackie wearing anything under that robe?

  Bishop Wilson preached a good sermon about how your marriage should be like a threefold card. If you put God first, then your spouse, then yourself, you will have an enduring, Christ-centered marriage. Although I was listening to the bishop speak, I couldn’t concentrate. I tried to focus on the sermon, but my mind kept coming in and out as I stared at Jackie’s robe. Every so often, Alison would nudge me.

  “Baby, you all right?”

  I nodded. My mind kept wandering, though. All I could think about was Jackie playing that organ and wearing that robe with no clothes under it. When the choir sang Donnie McClurkin’s song “We Fall Down (But We Get Up),” Jackie soloed and the church went wild. There were people dancing and shouting, and a few were even being struck by the Holy Ghost. Even First Lady Wilson, who was out of the hospital for Sunday church service, stood up, waving her uplifted hand back and forth, shouting, “Hallelujah, hallelujah,” over and over again.

  From behind the organ, Jackie gave me a smug look of satisfaction, then a wink, as if to say, “If I can do this to them, what do you think I can do to you?”

  Suddenly, I felt hot, and I was beginning to sweat. I adjusted my tie and tried to fan myself, but the sweat just kept rolling down my face. How could I be in the house of the Lord feeling like this, lusting after someone else’s mate while I sat next to my own? I felt my penis begin to expand, and I had to fight hard to keep an erection from going full-flag.

  “That was beautiful, wasn’t it?” the bishop asked when the performance was done. The congregation responded in a chorus of “Amen.”

  “Now, I’d like you to open your Bibles to…”

  “Brother, it’s time.” I almost jumped out of my skin and out of the pew when I felt someone tap me on the shoulder. When I glanced in the aisle, Deacon Walls was standing there next to me.

  “Huh? Time for what?”

  “It’s time to take up the collection.”

  “Oh, yeah, I’m sorry, Deacon. I’ll be right there.” The deacon walked away and I turned to Alison. “I’ll be back.”

  Alison nodded approvingly. She was so proud that I was starting to make the moves to become a deacon of the church. I adjusted myself under my suit jacket and carried the Sunday program in front of my bulge. As I passed the collection basket along each row, the swelling in my pants went down, and I purposely avoided looking in the direction of the choir. The last thing I wanted was to be passing the collection plate and have someone spot the tent in my pants. I could just hear the whispers behind Alison’s and my back now.

  After I passed the collection basket up the right side of the pews, Deacon Walls, Deacon Rogers, and I went into the finance office behind the sanctuary with the church’s treasurer, Deacon Alexander. I felt a real sense of pride collecting the money. As a commodities broker, everyone knew I handled money well, and they were even talking about appointing me the next church treasurer when I became a deacon in a year or so.

  I left the deacons to count the money and headed to the small unisex bathroom in the back of the church before heading back to my seat. When I finished my business and opened the door, Jackie was standing in front of me.

  “What do you want?” I demanded.

  “I want you. Haven’t you figured it out yet?” Jackie’s hands reached out and began to roam my chest, but I quickly removed them.

  “Stop it. We’re in the church. What’s wrong with you?”

  “Nothing a little some of this wouldn’t help.” Jackie grinned, reaching for my groin.

  I stepped out of reach. “Will you stop? Don’t you have an organ to play?”

  “I sure do, and if you would stop moving around, I’m going to play it like a flute.”

  Like the other day in the car, I was starting to get fed up with Jackie’s behavior. Common sense told me it was time to go back to my seat before someone overheard what was being said and misconstrued it. I started to walk away.

  “Hey, Brent,” Jackie called.

  I knew better than to turn around, but I still did it. “What?”

  “This.” Jackie was standing in the entrance to the restroom. In one swift motion, Jackie had turned around and the robe was lifted up to expose two perfectly round brown globes. I wanted to avoid looking, but my eyes wouldn’t listen to my brain.

  “I told you I wouldn’t be wearing anything under my robe. How do you like my assets?”

  Of course I didn’t answer, but the truth was, I liked Jackie’s assets. Matter of fact, they were now permanently ingrained in my memory for those occasional times I needed help getting it up for my wife. I hurried back to my seat, grinning like the little boy who’d just seen his first copy of Playboy. The memory of that first peek was a secret a boy would keep with him for the rest of his life. I felt the same way about Jackie’s ass. I’d never tell anyone, but I’d always remember.

  21

  Sonny

  I was staring out the window of the Coconut Grill restaurant in Manhattan as I waited for Tiffany to show up for dinner. It was directly across from the Beacon Theater, where we were supposed to see Tyler Perry’s new stage play. With that all being said, I was about to walk out of the restaurant because Tiffany was an hour and thirty-five minutes late for dinner, and the play had started five minutes ago. I called both her house and her cell phone several times, but only got her voice mail, with no returned calls. It was hard for me to believe that she’d stood me up, though, because I’d talked to her when she got off work and she was very excited about dinner and the play. She loved Tyler Perry’s DVDs and kept telling me how happy she was because this would be her first live show. She even went as far as to make arrangements for the kids to stay with their father for the night, so you know it was going to be on when we got back to my place.

  I decided to give her cell one more try, but the phone just went straight to voice mail again. I really didn’t want to leave, but sometimes you just have to face facts. Tiffany, like Jessica, had fucked me! Who knows? Maybe her ex came over and made her an offer she couldn’t refuse. Despite what she had told me, I knew she still cared about him. Why else would she keep his old love letters and pictures in a box in the back of her closet? Of course, I’d taken care of that by depositing the box in the nearest Dumpster when I left the night I found them. I don’t think she’d noticed yet that they were missing, or at least, she hadn’t confronted me about it.

  Damn, I thought, she was supposed to be different. She was supposed to love me unconditionally.

  “Sir, can I get you another Heineken while you wait?” The waitress snapped me out of my thoughts. I glanced out the window, hoping and praying that Tiffany would be walking up to the building or standing in front of the theater, but that was only wishful thinking.

  “Do you mind if I ask you a question about women?”

  The waitress nodded.

  “If someone doesn’t show up for a date, are they trying to send you a message?”

  The waitress gave me a sympathetic smile. “It depends. Things happen sometimes that aren’t planned. Does she have children? Maybe her kid got sick.” Damn, I never even thought about her kids.

  I gave the waitress an inquisitive glance. “But no matter the excuse, shouldn’t she have at least called?”

  “Definitely. If she didn’t call, she didn’t give a…” She didn’t finish her sentence, but I got the point. She was right, Tiffany didn’t give a shit.

  I lowered my head. “Thanks for the advice. I guess I gotta go kick someone to the curb…if she hasn’t already kicked me to it first.” I stood up, reached into my pocket, and pulled out a twenty-dollar bill, placing it on the table. I wasn’t sure how much a beer cost in that j
oint, but I’m sure it was considerably less than the twenty dollars I left. “Oh, by the way, keep the change.”

  “Thanks, mister,” the waitress replied with a grin. “Next time you need some Oprah-type advice, come on by. I read all of Dr. Phil’s books.”

  I wanted to laugh, but I was just a little bit too angry. I really thought Tiffany cared about me. I walked out of the restaurant, checking my watch as I lit a cigarette. She was now officially an hour and fifty minutes late. I felt like a fool. She’d dissed me, and there was nothing I hated worse than disrespect. I was going to have to reevaluate our relationship, and it looked like we were finished.

  I was about to hail a cab when I heard Tiffany shouting my name. I ignored her, chuckling pitifully as I raised my hand to flag down a driver. If she’d shown up ten minutes earlier, I would have been upset about her missing dinner but still been happy to attend the show, although I would have purposely complained about being hungry the entire time. But this wasn’t ten minutes ago, and we’d now missed almost a half-hour of the show. She shouted my name again, this time pressing her horn like she’d lost her mind.

  “Sonny! Sonny!”

  I glanced in the direction of her voice. She was getting out of her double-parked car and heading my way, looking flustered, and actually, kind of beautiful, with her hair windblown and cheeks all flushed. She was wearing a red silk dress with an asymmetrical hemline, which showed off her beautiful thighs. I’m sure it complemented her ass, too, but that was beside the point. Right now, I was pissed. But I don’t think she noticed when she approached me.

  “Sonny, where you going?”

  “Where am I going? I’m going home.” My voice was dripping with attitude, while her voice sounded exhausted.

  “Home? But I thought…”

  I turned and pointed my finger at her. “You thought? Like I thought you would call if you were going to be late. I thought you were going to be here two hours ago. And I thought you were different.” She just didn’t understand. I cared about this woman so much I actually had to fight back tears.

  “Sonny, don’t be like that. I am different. You know that. You don’t know what I’ve been through trying to get here. Kareem…” She laid her hand gently on my upper arm and I backed away, gesturing for her to leave me alone.

  “Save it, okay? I really don’t wanna hear it. You could have told me that when you called.” I spoke with bitter contempt. “Oh, that’s right. You didn’t call, did you?”

  “I know. I’m sorry. I couldn’t find my phone. I think someone stole it.”

  “Oh, that’s a convenient excuse. Why didn’t you use a pay phone or your house phone?”

  She stared at me sadly. “I don’t know your number. It’s in my phone.”

  “What, you don’t know my number by heart?” How could she not know it after three weeks of dating? “We talk almost three times a day.”

  “I don’t know anybody’s number by heart. Whenever I lose my phone, I lose contact with half the people I know.”

  “Are you trying to say that you want to lose contact with me?”

  “No, Sonny, that’s not what I mean. You act like you have my number memorized.”

  “I do.” I recited her digits while she stared at me, looking stupid.

  “Sonny, you’re making way too much of this, baby.”

  I couldn’t believe she just said that. “Is that what you think? That I’m making too much of this? You’re two hours late. We missed the show, and you didn’t even have the common courtesy to call me.” I started to walk away and she followed me like a little kid. “You know what, Tiffany? Brent and James warned me about you. You ain’t any different than Jessica.” I resumed my search for a cab. “Taxi!”

  “Damn it, Sonny! Why won’t you just listen to me?” She reached up and grabbed my arm, trying to pull it down, and I angrily jerked it back up in the air.

  “Get the fuck off me,” I growled, staring at her as if I was about two seconds from smacking the shit outta her.

  “Go ahead. Hit me. I can take it. It won’t be the first time a man hit me for no reason. At least then maybe we can talk civilized and you’ll let me explain.” I froze for a second. Either she had a legitimate excuse for being so late or she was crazy as hell. I’d never had a woman tell me to hit her before. Just the thought of it snapped me back to reality. I lowered my hand.

  “I’m not going to hit you. I just want you to leave me alone.”

  “Why? What are you afraid of, Sonny? All I wanna do is tell you why I was late. If you don’t wanna listen for me, do it for my kids. They love you, Sonny, and so do I.”

  I folded my arms and stared at her silently. Did she mean it? Did she really love me, or was she just saying that because she thought it was what I wanted to hear? I looked in her face and she looked sincere. I wanted to believe her so bad. I wasn’t sure what the truth was, but it was the mention of the kids that truly softened me. Besides, I was curious about what type of excuse she was going to come up with for being late. Whatever it was, it had better be a good one, because I had promised myself that I would never again let Tiffany or any other woman disrespect me like Jessica did.

  “Aw’ight, I’m listening.”

  Tiffany’s face crumpled as she took a deep breath. “Well, for starters, Kareem wouldn’t watch the kids. I tried to find a babysitter, but I couldn’t, so I had to take them with me.”

  “Take them with you? What are you talking about? Where are the kids?”

  She pointed at her car. “In the backseat.”

  “The backseat? You’re joking, right?”

  She shook her head. I walked over to the car and peeked in. She wasn’t lying at all. The kids were there, sound asleep. I turned toward her, suddenly feeling like shit. All I had to do was let her explain, but in my stubbornness, I wanted to believe she would do me wrong.

  “I’m sorry I didn’t wanna listen.” I spoke very softly.

  “That’s okay. I know how it must have looked. Can we go home now?”

  She tossed me the key, then got into the passenger seat. I opened the driver’s-side door and slid into the car.

  “Why wouldn’t Kareem watch the kids? He ain’t seen them since we started dating.”

  She hesitated as if she didn’t want to talk about him, but if I had anything to say about it, she was going to. I cleared my throat, giving her the look.

  “It’s my fault. He just gets me so mad. I should have never told him,” she said sadly.

  “Told him what?” I tried to conceal the jealousy in my voice, but I’m sure she could hear it.

  “He asked me where I was going, so I told him, on a date—”

  I cut her off. “Why’d you tell him anything? He’s not your man. I’m your man.”

  “I know you’re my man. And I don’t know why I told him, but once I did, he started trippin’.”

  “Trippin’ how? He didn’t put his hands on you, did he?” I was starting to breathe hard. If he touched her, I swear to God he was a dead man.

  “No, but he tried to tell me that I was moving too fast and that he couldn’t condone me dating this soon after we divorced, so he wasn’t watching the kids.”

  I was now fire hot. “Moving too fast? Condone? Who the hell is he to tell you anything, much less what he condones? That son of a bitch can kiss my ass.”

  “He’s just jealous, Sonny. When I left him, he told me I’d never find anyone else who would love me the way he did. Well, I found you, baby, and he’s just jealous that I’m happy.”

  “You know I never liked Kareem,” I snapped angrily.

  “I know that. I don’t like him either, but he’s my kids’ father. What am I supposed to do?”

  “You could always take out a life-insurance policy on him and have him killed.”

  She laughed. “I already have a policy on him. But I couldn’t get lucky enough to find someone to kill him.”

  “Yeah, you never know,” I said with a smirk.

  “Let’
s stop talking about Kareem, okay? Let’s just make up for the time we missed tonight and try to enjoy what’s left of it.” She reached over and took my hand, kissing it gently. “I love you, Sonny.”

  I glanced over at her, then looked at the kids in the rearview mirror. “I love you, too, but if we’re going to be together, we’re going to have some ground rules. You got it?”

  “Yes, I got it.” She smiled at me.

  “I’m serious, Tiffany.”

  “So am I, Sonny. I’m happy for the first time in years. I don’t wanna blow this. Now, take me home so I can show you just how serious I am.”

  22

  Brent

  So there I was, only six weeks after my honeymoon, waiting in Bishop Wilson’s office for him to counsel me on my marriage. Why was I there? Guilt, I guess. I hadn’t been able to make love to Alison without fantasizing about Jackie in almost three weeks. That’s not so good when you’re trying to make a love child. Unfortunately, after seeing Jackie’s exposed rear, my wife just didn’t do it for me anymore. Not to mention the fact that Jackie was putting more and more pressure on me each week. I loved Alison and I knew that if I wanted to remain married and have a family, something was going to have to give. This thing with Jackie had to stop before the fantasies and constant flirting became reality.

  To pass time as I waited for Bishop Wilson, I studied the plaques on his office wall. In addition to his many accomplishments, he also held an M.F.C.C. in Guidance and Counseling. Not that I even knew what that meant, but I guessed it meant he knew what he was talking about. Cracking my knuckles, I vacillated. Should I stay or should I go? I almost got up to leave. Perhaps I should’ve talked to Sonny or James about the whole situation, but I didn’t.

  There are a lot of things I never told my two friends, and there were certain things I couldn’t tell anyone except God. Anyhow, since I got saved, Bishop Wilson and the first lady had been like family to Alison and me. I guess that’s why I was waiting for him. As the head of the church, he was as close to God as anyone I knew. They say you should go to the elders of the church when you have a test of faith. Well, I was definitely having one. This problem with thoughts of lust and adultery didn’t seem to want to go away.