Love Won't Let Me Wait Read online

  “I saw her paperwork from the doctor’s office.”

  “What paperwork? What did it say?” I took a deep breath.

  “I was over at Shannon’s yesterday afternoon for lunch. She asked me to get something out of her purse. Her wallet; she asked me to get her wallet out of her purse. The paperwork from the doctor’s office fell out and I read it.”

  “What did it say?”

  “It was a receipt for a prenatal exam.”

  “Her name was on it?”

  “Yeah. It was from that weekend a few weeks ago when she went to Baltimore.” Toya seemed to be analyzing my last statement.

  “Well, what did she say when you asked her about it?”

  “That’s the thing; I didn’t ask her about it.”

  “What?” Toya’s mouth was wide open with surprise. “You didn’t say anything?”

  “No. I figured she would tell me about it when she was ready. Until then, I would just chill and act like I didn’t know.” Toya thought about it for a second then nodded her head in approval.

  “Yeah, I guess that makes sense. I don’t know how you were able to hold that back. It would be eating me up right now.”

  “Believe me, it was. But I’ve come to terms with it. The hardest part is over now.”

  “And what’s that?” She asked.

  “What’s what?”

  “The hardest part.” Again I paused.

  “Telling you about it.” Toya smirked. Her smirk gradually faded into a smile. It was obvious that she was forcing it but I didn’t care. That would have to do for now. I figured it would take Toya some time to accept it. She took my hands in hers.

  “Well, I guess I will have to settle for being a godmother. Can I at least have that?”

  “I wouldn’t have it any other way,” I replied kissing Toya on her hand. She took a gulping swallow of her drink. I cleared my throat.

  “Listen, I have to get back to the office, are you going to be okay?” Toya looked at me forcing another smile.

  “Yeah, I’m alright. Give me a call later okay.” I stood up leaned over and kissed her on the forehead.

  “I’ll call you as soon as I get home.”

  “Okay, Booby, I’ll talk to you later.” I turned and walked away from the table. I felt guilty leaving Toya there alone after dropping a bombshell like that on her. I stopped and turned back to make sure she was okay.

  She was sitting, staring at her plate, a blank look on her face. I spotted a lone tear rolling down her cheek. I winced before turning and walking out of the restaurant.

  Chapter 6

  I was standing outside of my apartment building waiting for Raoul to pick me up. He’d called and said he was about a minute away, and wanted me to meet him outside. While standing there I began thinking about my conversation with Toya. The whole pregnancy thing had really gotten to her. As I became more and more submerged in guilt; the sound of thumping woofers slowly came into range.

  Raoul whipped his Mercedes into the loading, unloading driveway in front of my building, his tires screeching as he maneuvered the banana shaped path. AMG’s “Bitch Better Have My Money,” boomed from his stereo system.

  He jumped out of the car waving his hands above his head. I broke out laughing when he started doing the donkey kong. From the donkey kong, he started hopping around acting like he was slapping the butt of a female dance partner bent over in front of him.

  AMG’s high-pitched voice cut in right on cue: “It ain’t nothing like black pussy on my dick. Word to the motherfucking DJ Quick.”

  An elderly couple entering my building looked at Raoul bewildered by his antics. The female had a look of disgust on her face. I could only imagine what they were thinking.

  As the bass line thundered in the background, Raoul stopped dancing and walked towards me bobbing his head to the beat. We touched our clenched fists together in greeting.

  “That shit used to be the joint! He thrust his hands in front of him in a swooping motion to add an exclamation point to his statement.

  “Yeah, that piece right there used to ride in the club.”

  “You remember Club 525?” Raoul asked.

  “Hell yeah, Tuesday night.”

  “Men’s night!” Raoul and I chimed in unison.

  “Yeah, that used to be the spot,” I continued. “Free admission, two for one drinks, and a whole lot of booty up in the joint.”

  “Fine ass booty,” Raoul added.

  “Fine ass, freaky booty,” I affirmed. We both nodded our heads in agreement. Raoul glanced at his watch. I observed the platinum Rolex with a ring of diamonds set into the face. I’m not into flossing like Raoul is but I had to admit the Rollie was banging. My Movado cost about two grand. Even that was a bit much for my taste. Raoul’s watch had to cost at least ten times that.

  “Let’s be out,” I said. We both turned and walked towards Raoul’s Benz. Weekend here we come.

  Greg, Raoul, Blaze and I had decided to meet at Club Jade for happy hour. It was first Friday, which meant it would be packed wall to wall.

  I had been cruising around town with Raoul all afternoon, chilling on a twelve pack of Heineken, and a heavy dosage of beats and rhymes by various artists from Cash Money Records booming from his car stereo. He was going on about some female he had hooked up with on Wednesday night at the Blue Room.

  “Her ass was like blam, dog. Nice round titties, with the little nipples, not those huge floppy looking dark ones that looks like she’s been nursing a calf or something.”

  “I hate that.”

  “I know right,” Raoul affirmed. “Her shit was perky like a motherfucker, just standing at attention like, aye sir!” He gave a military salute as if he were a Navy Seaman First Class greeting a Rear Admiral. I burst out laughing. Raoul smiled and rolled into a slight giggle. I reached over and turned down the volume on his Kenwood car stereo.

  “So what happened? Give me some details.” Raoul shook his head and twisted his mouth into a semi-scowl.

  “She was fine and all, but the ass wasn’t about shit.”

  “What! You have got to be bullshitting me.”

  “Nah, dog. She couldn’t ride worth a damn, and she kept complaining that I was going too fast and doing it too hard. Whining and shit. She wanted a nigga to go slow like we were making love or something. I’m like bitch, I don’t know you like that. Make love? I’m just trying to fuck something you know what I’m saying?” He glanced at me for acknowledgement. I kept my head facing forward. He continued to periodically look over at me waiting for a response. After about thirty seconds I obliged.

  “You can’t just try to pound on every woman you meet, dog. Some women like to be caressed, held, have soft kisses planted all over their most intimate secrets. Add some romance to your game, bruh. Make her feel special, even if she is just a one-night stand. You feel me?” I nodded at him to make my point. Raoul looked over at me with his face contorted like I had just let go the world’s most fetid flatus.

  “What, fool? Man I don’t have time for all that Romeo and Juliet shit. I like women who like to bang, fuck the dumb shit.” I nodded in agreement, at least with the part about liking women that liked aggressive sex. I considered myself to be somewhat romantic. I enjoy a good night of passionate lovemaking as much as anyone else. But nothing gets me going like a night of body slapping, sweat dripping, ass spanking, shit talking, hedonistic, no holds barred sex.

  “Well, dog, if that’s what the woman wants then it’s all good. Some women like it like that. But some women want you to be gentle with them. Pay special attention to them, like nothing else in the world matters.” We came to the stop light at the intersection of Tryon and Second Street. Raoul tilted his head to the side and peered out of the driver side window, evaluating the merits of my last statement. The light turned green and we continued.

  “So you’re trying to tell me that the same woman who wants to be romanced, loved, treated special, and all that other corny shit, don’t want a buck, b
lack ass, Mandingo, slave nigga, like myself,” Raoul pulled on his collar and looked at me with all the arrogance of a peacock with its colorful tail-feathers in full spread, “to straight drill that ass sometime?”

  “I didn’t say that my brother,” I corrected.

  “Well what you saying then?” He asked genuinely confused. I turned towards Raoul assuming the position of a wise old grandfather instructing an heir on the fickle ways of the opposite gender.

  I had put Raoul onto his first sexual experience in high school. My boy was in the tenth grade hurting for his first piece. I knew this chick named Maria that used to like me back in the day. I sweet-talked her out of her panties and all but stuck his dick in the booty. He didn’t have to do anything but pump. Come to think of it his ass still owes me. I taught him everything I knew, like an older brother would to his younger sibling. Here it is fifteen years later and I’m still teaching him about women and sex. At least I was trying to.

  “Women are complex creatures. What works for one isn’t necessarily going to work for the other, and what worked for her this time might not work the next time. You have to pay attention to her. Pay close attention to her body language, words, and gestures. It’s all there dog; you just have to be able to recognize what she’s saying. Sometimes she might be aching for that Mandingo brother to roll in and blow her back out. Or maybe she’s in the mood for Don Juan to romance her into the groove. She might even want a little of both. The key to being a good lover is being able to recognize what she needs at that particular moment, and to be able to deliver it to her. Raoul looked at me, then back at the road, then at me again as if unsure how to respond. Finally he blurted out:

  “Nigga please!” I laughed loudly. “Man I ain’t no Don Juan, and I don’t have time to try and read a bitch’s mind. If it’s all that then she can find some other dude to romance her and call me when she needs that Mandingo motherfucker.” I continued laughing. “Matter-of-fact, she can call the both of us when she wants that combo romance Mandingo shit, I ain’t no playa hater. I’ll share the pussy. We’ll be taking turns on that ass like Mandingo, Don Juan, Mandingo, Don Juan. I laughed hard and my sides began to throb. I was slow to regain my composure.

  “See, dog…that’s why all you ever have is one night stands. That’s the reason none of your chicks come back for seconds. You don’t know how to totally satisfy a woman. It can’t be all physical, there’s a mental and emotional element to sex, love, or whatever you want to call it.” We rode in silence for a few minutes. Raoul seemed to be considering what I had said. Finally he turned to me and spoke:

  “That bitch the other night did have some tight ass jaw-work though.” I shook my head and snickered. I should have known better than to try to explain to a Neanderthal man like Raoul, the intricacies of loving a modern woman. Raoul was going to be Raoul, and there wasn’t a damn thing I, or anyone else for that matter, could say or do to change him. At least he was well versed on attracting a certain kind of modern woman. It’s amazing how far a fly ride, tight gear, and a Rolex can get you. I leaned over and cranked up the volume as Juvenile’s “Back That Ass Up,” rattled the dashboard and windows in Raoul’s car.

  We stepped into Club Jada and bee-lined for the bar sidestepping a line of twenty or so people filing past the free buffet of wings, meatballs, and a colorful assortment of veggies. I ordered two cognacs and turned to hand one to Raoul. He was busy tugging on the elbow of a red-boned chick, with a short wavy haircut. She had on a black strapless dress that showed of her smooth muscular legs. Her back was turned to me but I gave her an approving once over based on my view.

  Raoul was smoothing out his goatee when she turned around and flashed him a broad smile complete with natural gold fronts. I held my drink up to my mouth and choked back my laughter. Raoul’s mack daddy smile turned to a cold stare, and he immediately turned away leaving the sister staring at the back of his clean-shaven head. He took his drink from my hand and swallowed hard.

  “Did you see that shit?”

  “See what?” I asked with a snicker.

  “Man, did you see that bitch.” I nodded with false excitement.

  “Baby girl was tight,” I offered over muffled laughter. Raoul gave me a look of utter repulsion.

  “Man that bitch was fucked up. Did you see her grill?” I echoed a hearty laugh. Raoul continued after another sip of his drink. “Her teeth were yellow as fuck! Shit just caked on like cream cheese on a bagel.” My laughter intensified as I nodded in agreement. Raoul shook his head with disgust.

  I brought my glass to my lips and took a sip. My gaze ran across the club from the dance floor to the front door and back to where the buffet line was mulling along. As I searched the buffet line, my eyes locked in on someone glaring at me over Raoul’s shoulder. I froze when I recognized who it was. It was the chick in the black dress that Raoul and I had been ragging on, and she looked pissed.

  She was breathing heavily and chewing on her bottom lip. I could feel the tension in her clenched fist. I imagined each one wrapped tightly around our necks, left hand around mine, and her right hand clutching Raoul’s.

  Her glare embarrassed me, but I couldn’t look away. She had been listening to our entire conversation. We were so busy amusing ourselves at her expense that we didn’t realize that she was still standing within earshot of our insults. I took a gulping swallow of my drink as if attempting to swallow the shame I was feeling. It stung the back of my throat.

  Raoul noticed me staring and turned to see what I was looking at. I felt unbelievable relief when her glare turned from me to Raoul. He stared at her unfazed, before hissing and turning back to face me. Her angry eyes returned to me. I glanced down at my shoes and shifted my weight. I looked over at Raoul, as he was finishing off his drink.

  “Man fuck that bitch,” he blurted out. It ain’t my fault her hygiene is all fucked up. What I’m supposed to feel guilty? Shit, she can go buy a toothbrush and toothpaste and scrub her shit down just like everybody else.” Raoul giggled; amused by his own comments.

  I didn’t laugh finding Raoul suddenly bereft of humor. What a jerk, I thought, as if I were any better. I had been just as much of a jerk as he had. Raoul noticed I was uneasy. He shook his head, snickered, and offered to get us some more drinks. I handed him my glass and followed to the bar. I looked back over my shoulder to face my tormenter and found the space she formerly occupied empty. Her absence brought some relief and I exhaled.

  I looked around the club trying to determine if she had moved to another area of the club or left altogether. I wasn’t trying to have her jumping out from around some corner and whacking me over the head with a beer bottle or some other hand held weapon. Or her brother or boyfriend and his friends jumping on Raoul and me over our Def Comedy Jam routine at her expense. You know how women can get when they are pissed off. A woman is ten times more devious than a man can ever think about being. Women put a lot more thought into the get back. When a woman gets revenge on your ass it leaves a lasting impression. They will scar you for life. I don’t need that kind of shit in my life right now. I was damn near in a paranoid frenzy by the time Raoul tapped me on my shoulder and handed me a drink.

  As Raoul, Greg, Blaze and I were leaving the club, I spotted her out front talking to a tall, dark brother standing in the open driver-side doorway of a blue Navigator. My paranoia resurfaced. I knew she wasn’t going to leave that shit alone. The guy in the Navigator was probably her boyfriend. Her father, brothers, uncles, and cousins along with half of her neighborhood are probably somewhere off in the cut waiting for it to pop off so they could swarm on our ass like Africanized bees. I tapped Raoul on the shoulder and nodded in her direction. Raoul nudged Greg and Blaze and started rubbing his hands together as if in anticipation of being handed a wad of money.

  “Guard ya grill knuckle up, once again it’s on!” He uttered with some excitement. I groaned; a clear message of my lack of a desire to participate in the impending altercation. Back in the day I wou
ld have been the main one hyping everyone else for a battle royal. In college we whipped ass on many an occasion and even caught a beat down or two ourselves. We took the good with the bad and kept on booking, but we were not in college anymore, and I wasn’t trying to get beat down or worse shot over some jokes.

  She briefly glanced at us as we passed by before returning to her conversation with a smile. I felt relieved. Maybe we wouldn’t have to throw hands; after all she acted as if the incident in the club was insignificant and had already been forgotten. Or maybe that was me trying to clear my conscious. Either way she seemed oblivious to Raoul and me and engrossed in her conversation.

  We continued towards the parking lot. I glanced back just long enough to see the guy in the Navigator handing her a folded piece of paper, which I assumed contained some contact information. Greg and Blaze climbed into Blaze’s rented Durango and Raoul and I followed in his car.

  We decided to grab a bite to eat and headed for the Waffle House. After a couple of eggs and a steak, I pulled out my cellular phone and dialed up Shannon.

  Chapter 7

  After breakfast, Raoul dropped me back at my place so I could pick up my truck. I told him to give me a call later that morning, before jumping in my Jeep and heading out to Shannon’s.

  On my way over to Shannon’s condo I stopped off at a 7-Eleven for some aspirin. A last ditch attempt to pre-empt any symptoms of a hangover. A couple of aspirin can be a lifesaver after a night of knocking them back with the boys.

  The cashier was standing behind the counter talking on the phone when I entered. His loud, lispy voice bounced off every wall in the store. I strolled to the back of the store and grabbed a bottle of Dasani water from the cooler and a pack of Tylenol off the shelf. At the counter I noticed some single red roses sitting next to the register. I reached over and pulled one out of the white porcelain vase they were displayed in, and placed the rose on the counter next to the aspirin and water.