

"...and then I woke up."

By: Evelyn K. Lemar

Copyright 2012 Evelyn K Lemar

Smashwords Edition

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Table of Contents

Chapter 1 - Like a Super Hero's Cape

Chapter 2 - Wild Nights of Fantasy Passion

Chapter 3 - Is there anymore room for me in those jeans?

Chapter 4 - Extended Dance Party USA Routine

Chapter 5 - Being So Bad Tonight!

Chapter 6 - Your Undivided Attention

Chapter 7 - There It Is

Chapter 8 - Yours for Tonight

Chapter 9 - "Honey, I'm Home!"

Chapter 10 - Sin on Some Level

Chapter 11 - "Queen for a Day"

Chapter12 - "Ghetto Heaven"

Chapter 13 - "Considered Her a Threat"

Chapter 14 - "You Don't Know, Do You?"

Chapter 15 - "His and Her Ninjas"

Chapter 16 - Part II: Maurice

Chapter 17 - (Maurice) "I Need my Jewels!"

Chapter 18 - "What's So Private?"

Chapter 19 - "Now, that's Game!"

Chapter 20 - "Absolutely No Parallel Parking!"

Chapter 21 - "Just my Luck"

Chapter 22 - (Maurice) Mo' Money, Mo' Problems

Chapter 23 - (Maurice) Who You 'Posed to Be?

Chapter 24 - (Maurice) Revenge in your Eyes

Chapter 25 - (Maurice) Somebody had to die that Night

Chapter 26 - No Little Green Men

Chapter 27 - How Could This Be?

Chapter 28 - The Bed that I Made

Chapter 29 - You Still Got Some Left

Chapter 30 - Did I Miss Something?

Chapter 31 - (Maurice) She Wouldn't Do It with Me

Chapter 32 - In my Element

Chapter 33 - No More Climbing Stairs

Chapter 34 - Stop a Bullet Like 50 Cent

Chapter 35 - Bitches Eat Crow

Chapter 36 - I'm Gay. Remember?

Chapter 37 - Home Again

Chapter 1

Like a Super Hero's Cape

I had just put the first annual Pap smear appointment scheduled after lunch into exam room two when a shrill urgent beep chimed out noisily through Dr. Curtis' pager. She took it out of her pocket and looked at it. She grimaced at the beeper and went over to the phone at her hallway workstation.

"This is Dr. Curtis..."

While she was on the phone I stepped back into the lab to check the pregnancy test that was percolating on the counter. It was negative. Crystal, the young college student waiting to get her Pap smear in the exam room would probably fall off the table from relief. She had confided earlier that she had caught her boyfriend cheating on her in his fraternity house and she wanted a complete STD work up and pregnancy test along with her yearly Pap. _At least she doesn't have a baby to worry about in all this mess_ , I thought, shaking my head. I hadn't heard Dr. Curtis ring the doorbell signaling for me to join her as her chaperone for the rest of the patient's exam, so I went ahead and dipped Crystal's urine sample to check for traces of blood and protein.

As I approached the workstation to document the results in her chart, the doctor was already on her way out of the exam room with samples in her hand.

"What's your hurry, sister?" I joked.

She gave a half smile, visibly distracted.

"Sorry. It would have taken too much time to wait on you to come in. I gotta get out of here like right now," she said. She wrote furiously while she talked.

"Dr. Shaw is going to finish up the rest of my annuals for the afternoon, but I need you to call my other patients and reschedule them. Tell the two follow-ups that they can come in first thing in the morning, or they can come about three forty-five. I should be out of surgery by then."

"No problem, boss," I said. "Are we having a baby, today? I don't remember anyone being due this week."

She sighed deeply.

"There's not anyone. Sonia is in distress, again."

"Oh, no," I moaned.

Sonia was kind of the sweetheart of our practice. She had been through so much trying to have a baby. She had already gone through two miscarriages and a stillborn. For some reason, as each pregnancy progressed, she would develop pre-eclampsia, a condition in pregnant women that causes their blood pressure to climb dangerously high, putting both mother and child at risk.

But through it all, she managed to remain in great spirits. She was always cheerful and positive. We loved it when she came into the office because she always brought sunshine, no matter how rough of a day we happened to have. She would bring cookies and other goodies for us all the time. She was like a part of our extended family.

I had never met her husband. Apparently he worked out of town during the week, so she would always come in for her appointments by herself. But, I assumed that they were close because she talked about him all the time, and she showed no evidence of being unhappy with their arrangement. She told us that he was making preparations to start his own business that he planned to have up and running by the time the baby came, so he could spend more time at home. I had never met him but she affectionately called him 'Bay,' short for 'Baby' so much that even the girls in the office referred to him in conversation like that, too.

She was so close, this time. She was almost at the end of her twenty-eighth week. I said a quick, silent prayer that she would be able to hold on long enough to bring this baby safely into the world.

"Okay, I'll take care of everything for you. Tell her that we're thinking about her."

"I will. I'll call you guys later to give you an update."

She rushed out of the office, her lab coat blowing behind her like a super hero's cape. As I watched Dr. Curtis leave, I hoped that her super powers would be enough to save Sonia's baby.

Chapter 2

Wild Nights of Fantasy Passion

I had apparently dozed off in a fitful sleep waiting for Maurice to show up. It was almost two o'clock but still no signs of him having been to my house. The heat was unbearable. I had to peel my soaking wet sheets from my body to get out of bed. Why in the world was it so hot in here? I staggered into the bathroom and splashed cold water on my face to try and cool off. Now, I was just hot and wet.

I made a face at myself in the mirror and wandered into the living room to see what temperature the thermostat was set on. Somebody must have accidentally turned the heat on by mistake. But that couldn't be right. Maurice wasn't in the house enough to be messing around with the thermostat and I didn't even think Tomika realized what it was for.

I could see a dim light around the corner as I started down the hall towards the living room. That's strange. Tomika and I like complete darkness when we go to sleep, so we never leave lights on in the house at night. Maurice is the one who's afraid of the dark. He always comes in at some God forsaken hour turning on lights, talking about how he can't see. If he ever spent any real time here, he wouldn't have to worry about bumping into things in the dark. He would instinctively know how to maneuver around them like we do.

He must have fallen asleep in the living room watching television or something. But he wasn't on the couch. And he wasn't in the bathroom. I just left there. Maybe he left and just forgot to turn the light off.

As I approached the kitchen to get a drink of water, I saw that the light was coming through my open refrigerator door. I know he didn't leave my refrigerator open. As I made my way over close to it, I froze in my tracks noticing a figure bent over, rummaging in my fridge. What the hell? He was so engrossed in its contents that he didn't seem to notice that I had come in. I backed away from the kitchen's entrance slowly, hoping to make a clean break to my room and retrieve the aluminum baseball bat that I kept under my bed. As I did an about face, he spoke.

"Where are you going? I thought you were going to join me for a midnight snack."

I froze in a silent panic.

He spoke again.

"You got any whipped cream?"

What was he planning to do, eat me?

I found my voice and demanded, "How the hell did you get in my house?"

The man turned from whatever had his attention in my refrigerator and looked at me. I could barely make out his face in the dim light emanating from the fridge, but there was something strangely familiar about him.

"I told you. I am wherever you will me to be, my love."

My mouth dropped.

"Desmond?"

He smiled.

"You know, that surprised act is getting a bit old."

He casually rose to a standing position, opened my freezer, and scooped some ice cubes into a bowl he was holding.

"Desmond, what are you doing here?" I asked again, staring at him in disbelief.

"Relax, baby. I came to cool you off."

He took me by the hand and led me into my bedroom.

Too dumbfounded to say anything else, I watched him as he set the bowl of ice on my nightstand. He slowly and playfully peeled off my pajamas, scooped me off my feet, and lay me gently on the bed.

"Oh, I couldn't find the whipped cream, but this will work," he said, nonchalantly holding up a bottle of chocolate syrup.

"Desmond!" I gasped. But there was nothing else for me to say. I was speechless.

He sat down on the bed next to where I lay, leaned over and whispered in my ear.

"Are you ready?"

I nodded dumbly.

"Are you comfortable?"

"Yes," I whispered back.

"Good," he said, satisfied. "I just want you to lay back and enjoy the ride."

Desmond took a chunk of ice from the bowl on the nightstand and put it in his mouth. Then he moved down to the foot of the bed. He lifted my legs over his shoulders and lowered himself down on his stomach between my thighs. I could feel his icy breath tickling my insides before his lips even made contact.

"Ohhhh, Desmond," I moaned...

I jolted straight up in bed, panting. My pajamas and sheets were covered with wet, sticky remnants of a dream that I never wanted to wake up from. It was a dream with a recurrent theme, becoming more and more real with every forty winks that I took. I had been having these wild nights of fantasy passion ever since I reacquainted myself with Desmond Wright a year ago.

It started as a harmless-platonic-haven't seen my old friend in a while-let's keep in touch kind of thing. All I did was stop by my old job to visit people that I hadn't seen in a while. Well, I really did want to see Desmond in particular, but I swear it was completely innocent. Aside from the fact that I had always had a secret obsession with Desmond, I considered him to be enough of a friend to want to remain in contact with after I left my job with Global Technology. So, I stand by my decision to pay him a visit after not having seen him in a couple of years, even if my motives weren't necessarily pure.

I met Desmond about five years earlier while working a temporary job at Global Technology one of the major corporations in the Research Triangle Park area. I had previously separated from the army after four years of active duty service, where I served as a hospital medic at Fort Ord in California. Since I was not a registered nurse, I had trouble finding a job once I returned home to North Carolina. The civilian work force was not very accepting of military training methods and was skeptical to hire for some positions without formal schooling. So I secured a position driving a forklift in one of Global Technology's warehouses while I put myself through school. There, Desmond also worked as an up and coming young professional.

The first time I laid eyes on him every ounce of religion I ever had oozed right into my panties, along with the excitement that was welling up inside me as I shook his hand. He was the most beautiful man I had ever seen. He was about five-foot-ten with a medium build and slightly bowed legs. His mocha chocolate complexion was flawless, and I was sure that he could read my mind with those piercing, dark brown eyes. He had a bright, sincere smile that turned up only at the left corner, giving him the look of a young boy up to no good. His hair was perfectly faded, and the waves in his hair made me seasick.

His dress was simple. We worked in a warehouse which was no place for suits and ties. He wore an oatmeal-colored sweater that showed off his frame nicely; not baggy like a sweatshirt, or tight fitting, like a muscle shirt. It was a crew neck sweater with two buttons at the neck with no collar. He also wore a pair of brown steel-toe boots. And oh mercy, did the man have some big feet.

How odd that I would meet a man and pick such an inanimate body part to fall in love with. But it wasn't until I went to shake his hand that I knew I had to have him. His hands were neither big and hairy, nor were they short and feminine looking. They were perfect just like the rest of him. His nails were uncharacteristically clean for a warehouse worker and wrinkles around his knuckles gave his hands an inviting look, like slightly worn leather. I could tell by looking at those hands that he was no stranger to hard work, but they felt smooth like a new baseball glove. He had a strong, firm grip that told of confidence. I almost didn't want to let go. I couldn't help but notice how much better that simple gold band on his left finger made the rest of his hand look when I finally did release my grip.

Desmond was a well-liked member of the staff at Global Technology. He wasn't in a supervisory position, but everyone always went to him with their problems. He was always willing to help and he always had a kind word to say to everyone. In the time that I worked there, I don't think I ever saw him get upset with anyone or anything. His even temper and willingness to help made him well respected among the male staff, and his good looks made him choice eye candy among the few females throughout the warehouse.

Since there were mostly men on the job, harassment was a usual occurrence. There was never a shortage of dirty jokes or explicit conversations. It was definitely not a place for sensitive feelings or the faint of heart. I have to admit that as much as I loved to engage in those sexually explicit conversations and listen to and tell dirty jokes, Desmond and I never directly engaged in that type of conversation. We were usually bystanders that occasionally listened to and laughed at the same jokes, but our conversations were on a different level. The talks we had were usually casual and lighthearted, but always full of intellect.

Desmond was the type of person that could have an intelligent conversation without boring you to death. He was obviously of above average intelligence and well rounded. He didn't, as my mom says, "have a head full of book sense, but no common sense." He was a joy to converse with, and unlike most of the other men on the job I never had to worry about engaging in unsolicited vulgar talk.

He frequented my work area just to chitchat whenever we had down time. He was always intrigued by my outside interests. We had a lot in common like our love for old trucks and jazz music. Our close association, in turn, caused many people to talk; especially the women. Desmond had a way of making all women feel special and I got more attention than they did. Mostly everyone got along well so some of them tried to probe me indirectly for information.

"I noticed that Desmond picked you to go with him to the new warehouse this week. Are you sure that's the only place y'all went?"Pam, one of my co-workers asked me one day.

They always tried to make a joke out of it, but hoped that I would give them the confirmation they sought about their suspicions.

"Girl, we went to his house and had a long lunch," I would tease with a smirk.

Nosy heifers. They were just jealous because they wanted what they thought I was getting. Also, if they could prove that Desmond and I really had a thing, it would also give them something to gossip about on the job.

After driving a forklift at Global Technology for a little over a year, I finally found a job at an obstetrics office that felt that my skills would be an asset to their practice. So, I took the position and made plans to leave my old job and my friendship with Desmond behind. But Desmond apparently picked up the secret vibes I had been sending and asked me if he could call me from time to time after I left the company. I gladly gave him my number and agreed to meet for lunch or something whenever time permitted.

Although I had a sneaking suspicion that we had a mutual attraction for one another, I wasn't one hundred percent sure what made him decide that he wanted to keep in touch with me. Though Desmond and I had really become great associates at work, our dialogue never went past the parking lot. He was such a social person; I didn't really believe that he thought much of our conversations. I mean after all, our exchanges rarely contained anything of real substance, and we certainly had not become involved in any way. And let's not forget about that little gold band that served as a red flag to me every time I thought about stepping over the line. So I was still somewhat surprised that he still wanted to remain acquaintances after I left my job.

We talked on the phone quite a bit at first. But after a few months I guess we both got busy and the calls became less and less frequent. Still later, I moved to another part of the city, had my number changed to an unlisted number, and became engrossed in other things and other men. I still thought about Desmond from time to time, but when I finally tried to contact him at work, his extension and his beeper number had both been assigned to someone else within the company. I hadn't spoken with him in a couple of years until recently.

I won't pretend like it was by sheer accident or fate that I ran into Desmond again after all this time. My boyfriend Maurice had been staying away so much lately that instead of absence making the heart grow fonder, it made my heart wander. One evening after work about eight or nine months ago, after having been stood up the night before for the hundredth time, I decided to pay the old Global Technology crew a visit. Okay, so I really had no interest in seeing anyone else. My sole motive for driving thirteen and a half miles in the opposite direction of home was to see if there might be a chance that Desmond still worked there.

I was feeling a little lonely and unwanted at the time, so I figured that a little harmless ego stroke from another man was just what I needed to boost my morale. It wasn't like he was going to hold me or anything. I'd just talk to him on the phone like I used to do when I was bored and needed something to do while Maurice was doing his thing. It turned out that Desmond was indeed still on the job, now in charge of the second shift crew. He had a lot more time to talk on the phone these days, and he seemed to be just as starved for soothing small talk as I did. Since that day, we talked on the phone almost every night around ten o'clock and then he haunted my dreams for the rest of the evening.I rolled over and turned on the lamp on my bedside table to wake myself up. I was so tired, I felt like I had actually had a man in my bed the night before. I've had these dreams for over a month. They had become more vivid and intense in nature, each one leaving me breathless and horny. I felt like I was trapped in a porno movie. Fortunately for me, Maurice was out of town. I was beginning to feel guilty for re-opening this can of worms and these wet dreams made me feel like I was cheating, even though Desmond and I were doing nothing more than talking on the phone. And the last thing I needed was to have an orgasm in my sleep and breathe Desmond's name in the process.

I went into the bathroom and turned on the water for a shower. I briefly entertained the notion of turning on the cold tap in order to snap myself out of the horny state I was in, but quickly dismissed it. Hell, it hadn't gotten quite that bad, yet. I chuckled under my breath and went into the other room to wake up my daughter, Tomika.

Tomika lay on her stomach spread eagle in the middle of the bed, like the coyote after the landing at the bottom of a cliff. Her mouth hung open, but she had her thumb stuck in it just the same. She looked so peaceful lying there that I hated to wake her. I stood there for a minute and watched her. She was the spitting image of me when I was a child, but she looked just like her father when she was asleep. It was always amazing to me how a child could look exactly like both parents at the same time. Too bad Lance wasn't interested in what she looked like. We hadn't heard from him since Tomika was two years old.

I turned on the light and called to her.

"Time to get up, baby," I said to her, as gently as I could. Unfortunately, neither of us were morning people so we always treaded lightly in each other's territory in the mornings. I ran the risk of pissing her off by waking her up to suddenly, and she ran the risk of giving me too much attitude after I woke her up. After I called out to her, I quickly left the room so I would not have to witness that first eye roll or hear that first mumble under her breath.

Chapter 3

Is there anymore room for me in those jeans?

I don't get out an awful lot, but one of the things I looked forward to was my bimonthly outing with my girlfriends. We usually went to the TGI Friday's restaurant every other Friday night to have drinks. The restaurant has a great bar and they require identification to be admitted after ten o'clock on the weekends. It's like being at club with no dance floor. We even had our own little section that we liked to sit in. It was on the upper level in the smoking section, so I could savor a cigar while kicking it with the girls. Nobody else in the group smokes, but they tolerated it because that particular table had a great view of the bar and front door. We could see everyone as they came in. We also always requested the same waiter, Ronnie, a cute little white guy that we adopted as our own personal manservant.

For the most part, we had a ball on these girls' nights out but not without its share of drama. Once the drinks started to flow at a steady pace, one person usually ended up getting double-teamed by the rest of the group and the insults would start to fly. The person on the receiving end usually ended up mad until someone at the table bought another drink to smooth things over. Then we'd all go back to having a good time again; just like blood sisters.

During that time, the girl on the receiving end had been me. Everyone else had been riding me hard about Maurice. They thought that I was too lenient on him and that I was allowing him to run over me. Renee was the worst one because she would go into her little nagging spiel and insist that she only said the things that she said because she loved me and she hated seeing me miserable because of him. She likes to act as though she's everyone's mother even though she is the youngest of the four of us. At twenty-four, she is married and has three children, which she thinks makes her qualified to give advice and judge the rest of us. She has a set of twins, a boy and a girl, Lindsey and Sydney who are the same age as Tomika, and the baby girl, Terri, who is four.

Renee helps run her mom's daycare, but other than that, she is a classic stay-at-home mom. She's the leader of Tomika and Sydney's Girl Scout troop and she lives to play cook, maid, and chauffeur to her family.

She acts like an old mother, but youth lies within her chocolate, chubby cheeks. She's a pretty, thick body girl who sort of puts you in the mind of Monique. She's originally from New Orleans, so she has a strong, Creole accent that comes out thick when she's on her soapbox, which she usually is because she is an incessant nag. She always has a lecture of some sort for one or all of us, and she drives us nuts most of the time. But, she also has a fun-loving, Mardi gras spirit. She loves to laugh and have a good time, and she's also a great cook. Honestly, I just keep her around because I love to hear her talk. And her nurturing, motherly ear is always good for an unbiased listen before she gives you her stinging, unbiased critique. She's always full of moral support and is good for a last minute baby sitter or a meal if you don't feel like cooking.

This particular night, the girls were on my back again, as usual. We really hadn't even been on the subject at first, but Renee couldn't resist putting her two cents in my business.

"So, did Maurice come over last night, Ericka?"

She glanced up from her drink.

"No, Renee. He didn't make it over last night."

"Have you talked to him today?" she wanted to know.

I sighed, deeply. This heifer thought she was slick.

"No, I haven't talked to him, either. We've both been working."

She shook her head.

"Well, when was the last time you spoke to him?"

I could feel the devil creeping up my back.

"I talked to him on Tuesday."

That was all the fuel she needed.

"You hear that, y'all? She ain't even heard from this nigga since Tuesday. Here it is Friday. Natalie, when is the last time you talked to Tarik?"

Natalie shifted uncomfortably in her seat.

"I talked to him before we left. He said he might meet us out here."

Renee turned back to me.

"Doesn't it bother you that Tarik is so attentive to Natalie, but Maurice doesn't even have the decency to pick up the phone just to make sure you're not dead? He takes you for granted and you just sit there and take it. When are you going to stop letting him play you?"

Now, old Lucifer was standing on top of my head, massaging my scalp.

Natalie spoke up.

"Leave it alone, Renee. It's not your business. And besides, Tarik said that Maurice would probably come out here with him."

I could see the frown lines forming under the ringlets that softly fell around Natalie's golden brown face. Her soft, brown eyes had clouded over, and her usual wide grin full of the whitest teeth I'd ever seen were no longer visible as the conversation took a turn for the worst.

Natalie and I have known each other the longest. We had been friends since high school. I think she felt obligated to defend Maurice because she was instrumental in him and me originally hooking up. She dated his best friend, Tarik. She had the eldest of all of our children in the circle, a son, Savion, who was thirteen. She had him our last year of high school. She was a free spirit and she was the one who originally initiated this girl's night out thing. I wondered if she regretted it tonight.

"Damn, Renee. You always got to be getting drunk and talking shit. It's embarrassing."

The next person to speak was Toy.

"Yeah, Renee. Why you always got something to say about Maurice? Everybody can't have a henpecked man like Terrell. I came here tonight because I needed to relax and have a good time. I didn't come here to hear this mess, again."

Renee was heated, then.

"Oh, shut the hell up, Toy! You can't talk about me or my man until you go out and find you a man, a woman, or whatever the hell your preference is."

Toy's eyes got big.

"Oh, bitch, I know you didn't! You better be glad we're in this restaurant, or I would get up and pimp slap you."

Toy and I went to school together but didn't become friends until we ended up at the same base in the army. She was very tall and thin and while I have been a known tomboy all of my life, hers borderlines on dyke. You will absolutely never see Toy in a skirt and I seriously doubt that she owns a pair of heels. And even though she is extremely mannish, she's not really manly in any sense of the word. In fact, she is a very pretty girl with long, thick pretty hair that is always nicely done or pulled back in a ponytail, like mine. Her body's stacked like Tyra Banks so she actually turns a lot of heads. But thank God for natural beauty because she has never been compelled to do anything to alter her appearance for the sake of attracting a man.

I guess the reason why we think she's so manly is because she has never shown any interest in being with a man romantically. She plays basketball with a group of guys everyday after work at the gym, and yet with access to all types of men that most women only dream about, she's never had a date that we know of. She never talks about men unless it's one of ours, and she doesn't seem too concerned about having one. She's never been married and even though she insists that she does entertain male company, none of us has yet to hear her mention any man's name, much less see her with one.

Renee insists that Toy is either gay or bisexual. Maybe I'm just naïve or in denial, but she would actually have to produce a man or a woman at some point in order to be considered anything. Natalie seems to think that she just hates men. I'm not sure what to think. I do know that she's very attractive for a woman and could easily have her pick and choose of any man, but for whatever reason, she has chosen to remain single. Toy's sexuality has been a major issue of debate between the sisters both behind her back and in her face, believe it or not. But, what we say never seems to offend her. I don't believe she cares one way or the other.

Ronnie, our waiter came back to our table.

"You ladies need refills on your drinks?"

I nodded toward Renee.

"This trick right here don't need nothing else, Ronnie. She's had enough."

He and the rest of the table laughed.

"Yeah, I got your 'trick,'" Renee mumbled under her breath.

After he left, Toy spoke again.

"Seriously though, Ericka. It does look like Maurice is playing you. He's never around, even when we all hang out as a group. Tarik even shows his ugly face once in a while."

Natalie raised her eyebrows at Toy. She continued.

"And when he does come over, it's late at night and most decent folk have gone to bed. What's that about? Hell, you don't even talk to him every day. The man is more like an acquaintance than a boyfriend. Are you really cool with that?"

No, I wasn't cool with it, but I really wasn't ready to throw in the towel just yet. Why was that so hard for them to understand?

"Yeah, Ericka," Natalie chimed in. "I love Maurice like my brother. But we all know that he could do a lot better by you. He doesn't take you anywhere. He doesn't even act like you guys are together unless he thinks somebody else is looking at you. It's like he's not even a boyfriend. He's just a booty call."

She was right. And I was getting tired of trying to justify this faux-relationship to everybody.

"It's easy for you guys to judge what's going on from the outside, but I'm too far into it to just kick him to the curb. I love him. And things are better than they were even six months ago. I'm not totally cool with the way things are, but they could be a lot worse."

Renee jumped back into the conversation.

"So what? You gonna wait for him and Cassandra to have another baby? He didn't even have the decency to tell you that he had somebody pregnant. And you took his sorry ass back."

"Renee, I'm not taking any more of your shit tonight, okay? First of all, we weren't even together when that baby was conceived. And second, if he didn't care about me, why is he still spending all of his money at my house? Reese pays bills at my house like Terrell pays bills at yours. You know how men like Reese are. They're too macho to romance you, so they give you all of their money to show you that they want to take care of you."

"Now, she got a point, there," Natalie agreed. "A dude that hustles loves money more than he loves his own mama. So, he must really love Ericka if he thinks enough of her to share."

Toy said, "This is exactly why the only man in my life is Pookie."

Pookie was her cat.

"The crap y'all have to go through with these men is ridiculous."

Renee looked at Toy.

"Heifer, that ain't why. You just don't want no man," Renee said to her with a smirk.

"Just so you know, Renee," Toy fired back. "I may not be interested in no man, but trust and believe that Toy gets what she wants, when she wants it, from whomever she wants it from, okay?"

Everyone's jaw dropped on the table. Did she just say what I thought she said?

Before anyone could comment, Tarik came up behind Natalie's chair. He leaned over and gave her a peck on the lips.

"What's up, ladies? Y'all didn't invite us to the hen party," he grinned.

We all mumbled greetings, still looking in Toy's direction. She ignored us.

"Who's 'us'?" she asked.

"Maurice is down at the bar," Tarik said.

I looked down at the bar and saw Maurice talking to some other guys. I smiled. He had on a Carolina blue Akademiks tee shirt with a baseball cap to match. My baby could really coordinate.

Tarik joked around with us for a few more minutes and then returned to Maurice and the other guys at the bar.

A few more minutes went by, but Maurice still hadn't come to our table, or even acknowledged my presence in the restaurant. I nervously began to fidget in my chair.

Toy, sensing my uneasiness, said, "Ericka, he won't even come to the table and say 'hello'. You've got to admit that there's something strange about your relationship."

Renee, never to be left out, backed her up. "Why don't you just go down there and speak to him?"

"Nah, I'm not doing that," I said, shaking my head.

"Why not? He's supposed to be your man, right? And you can't even go down there and say nothing to him?"

She shook her head like she pitied me.

"I don't need to go down there sweatin' him just to impress y'all, okay? Damn, why can't you guys just leave it alone? I swear!"

I rose from the table.

"I'm going to the bathroom," I said, leaving the table. "I don't have to justify my relationship to none of y'all. I'm thirty fucking years old and I haven't lived at home in quite a long time, okay?"

I couldn't get to the bathroom without passing Maurice, so I did my best to pretend that I didn't notice him as I passed the group he was talking to. A couple of his boys spoke to me, but Maurice had his back turned on the phone and either didn't see me or purposely didn't say anything to me.

I didn't actually have to go to the bathroom. I just needed to remove myself from the middle of the conversation. I knew my sisters meant well, but this was not the time to be scolding me about not taking shit off of my man. I was there to relax and have a good time. I dealt with Maurice's foolishness on a daily basis, and the one time I had to get away from it, my own girls brought it to me.

I checked my hair, put on some more lip-gloss and headed back to my seat.

I felt a gentle tug on my hair as I passed Maurice's group again. I turned around to see him grinning at me.

"What? You gon' pass by me and not speak?"

I couldn't help but smile.

"You were busy talking when I walked by the first time."

He leaned over and whispered, "Is there any more room for me in those jeans?"

A broad smile came over my face.

"A gracious plenty," I replied, seductively.

He nodded, approvingly.

"All right. Go on back up there with your girls. I'll deal with you later."

When I got back to my table, I found Toy cursing out Renee for asking her whether or not she was attracted to any women that were in the restaurant.

Our waiter came back again, this time with a tray full of drinks.

Natalie looked at him, puzzled.

"We didn't order these," she said.

"Yeah, where these drinks come from?" Toy asked.

"Compliments of the gentleman in the light blue tee shirt at the bar," he said.

I looked down at Maurice, who was still talking with Tarik and the rest of his friends. He wasn't paying our table any attention.

I smiled, triumphantly.

"What you got to say, now, Renee?" Toy asked, spitefully.

"Humph!" Renee grunted, as she took a sip of her free drink.

At the end of the night, Natalie and I decided to crash at my house. Toy wanted to come with us, but Maurice and Tarik would be following us to the house soon after we got there. She was still pissed off at Renee, so she declined Renee's offer to sleep her drinks off in one of her kids' rooms and drove herself home.

I could hear the answering machine beeping before I opened the door. I set my purse on my bed and pressed play while I fished a silk scarf out of my dresser drawer to put on my head.

Beep.

"Hey Missy, this is D. I had a free moment, so I just wanted to call and holla at you for a few. You and your girls must still be out having a good time. Give me a call when you're free. Later."

Natalie emerged from the bathroom with a shocked look on her face.

"No wonder you're not trippin' about Maurice."

"It's not even like that," I said.

She probed me for information, but I heard Reese's key turning in the door. I told her that I would tell her later, then hurriedly erased the message from the machine.

Chapter 4

Extended Dance Party USA Routine

The rest of the evening went off without a hitch. Maurice and Tarik met us back at my house right on schedule. It was late, but we still had plenty of energy so we ended up playing dominoes at the kitchen table and eating the rest of the leftover cheesecake that I had bought from Sam's Club. The cake must have given us a sugar rush because we got all pumped up listening to the old school hip-hop that was playing on the stereo. We began to reminisce about parties we went to and old dances we used to do back in the day, and pretty soon we had turned my small living room into a dance floor and started jamming like we were at the club.

We must have gone on like that for a couple of hours until the jams gave way to the quiet storm radio program. That put us all in a mellow, romantic mood. Natalie and Tarik said hasty good-byes before hurrying off into the night where they could be free to romance each other or freak each other for the remainder of the evening; whichever was the case.

Once we were alone, Maurice and I went outside into the summer night to cool off after our extended Dance Party USA routine. We took our favorite place on the front porch of my duplex in the two-seat glider in front of my front window. I immediately lifted my legs up and placed them in his lap. He then took my left foot and began to gently massage it with his strong hands. All that dancing mixed with those drinks we had at Friday's made me a little giddy, so I took a deep breath to suppress my urge to giggle at the tickling sensation Maurice was bringing to my tired foot.

"You have fun, tonight?" he asked me, looking out towards the stars.

"It was cool. The night started out a little shaky, but things turned out okay," I answered, watching the intensity on his face as he gazed at the moon like a trained astronomer.

He turned his attention away from the moon and studied my face for a moment. Maurice was well aware that the focal point of most of my friends' discussions was him. But even so, he never did anything to try to appease them, or me, for that matter.

"What them cluck heads talking about, now?" he asked, pretending to be exasperated.

I rolled my eyes at him.

"Don't do that," I said. "That's not cool."

He laughed.

"It's not cool for y'all to be sitting up there at the bar tearing me down, either, but you do it anyway."

He chuckled to himself and returned his gaze to whatever had his attention in the sky.

I wish I could be that self-centered. Maurice absolutely did not give a damn what people said or thought. He did exactly what he wanted, when he wanted, and how he wanted. And he was never ruffled about anything that anyone ever had to say about him. In most instances, that would be a pretty decent quality to possess, but in our case, it was the nail that sealed the coffin on any chance that I could ever have at improving our relationship. Not only did he not seem to care about what my friends said, he wasn't all that interested in what constructive criticism I had either. And the most puzzling part of all was that he was always so nice about it. He was not cocky or arrogant; he was actually a sweetheart. But with him, it was what it was.

"I don't tear you down," I said, plaintively. "In fact, I spend most of my breath defending you."

"Well, I don't understand. Just what is the problem that everybody got with me, now?"

For the first time in the conversation, I had his full attention. It was on, now. I shifted to a more comfortable position on the settee and propped my arm over the back. I looked at him carefully, in deep thought. I knew that this discussion would require me to use the 'six-second rule,' which simply states that I wait six seconds before I let anything come out of my mouth. That usually lowers the chance of me saying something stupid or hurting someone's feelings.

"You should be more worried about the problems that I have with you," I said, finally.

Maurice sighed heavily.

"What problems you got? Dang, I thought I was doing better. I just can't win with you."

"Maurice, be for real. Would you have come to Friday's tonight if Tarik hadn't asked you to come? You didn't come out there to meet me. You didn't even know I was gonna be there because I haven't even talked to you in almost a week. You were following your entourage, like normal."

"E. Middle, I knew you was gonna be there. Tarik told me. That's why I came. I sent you and your girls some free drinks. I even sent one for that damned Renee, and I can't stand her. I can't even get no points for that?"

He shook his head, incredulously.

I tried again.

"Look, I don't want to make it seem like my friends are gassing my head up or nothing, Reese. But you have to admit that this is not a normal relationship. Yeah, we hung out together and had a good time. I'll give you that. And I'll even give you an extra ten points for sending those drinks to the table. You're a smooth pimp for doing that, okay? But you have to admit that we don't do things that normal people do in a relationship. You won't take me anywhere. We don't even see each other regularly. Hell, you don't even call me twice a week!"

Maurice was a very passive and soft-spoken man by nature. He sat there with his head bowed and pretended to listen to what I saying. But the truth was, he had most likely memorized this argument and could probably recite it in his sleep. He was just too polite to stop me and tell me he didn't want to hear it, anymore. And we both knew that things would remain the same, even after I presented my strong, passionate point. I took advantage of his silence and kept going.

"Reese, it's been six years. How long do I have to keep sitting around here waiting on the relationship to go the way I want it to go for a change?"

"I'm saying, Erica. What is it that you want? I'm up here thinking that I'm doing what I'm supposed to be doing. Now, you sitting here telling me that I ain't doing nothing. I'm confused."

He was always confused. His confusion was what pissed me off the most. Whenever I tried to explain to him what I wanted out of the relationship, this above average intelligent man would suddenly become a freaking idiot. I may have switched up a little on my approach every now and then, but the argument was always the same. And each time, he always claimed that he didn't get it. I tried, yet again.

"Okay, Reese. Here's the deal. Whenever I go anywhere, I'm always by myself, unless I have Tomika with me. You never go anywhere with me. It makes me feel like you trying to hide me. I feel neglected. What's wrong? Are you ashamed of me, or something or are you trying to hide me from somebody?"

"No, girl. You trippin'. As much as they seen you at the shop, all the boys know you my woman. How am I gonna be ashamed when everybody already know the deal between us? And don't you think if I had some other chick, she would have walked up on you by now?"

"I'm not talking about them, boy. And that doesn't matter, anyway, because I don't hang out anywhere that those thugs from the shop are at. And as far as another chick is concerned, you ain't bold enough to give her the okay to hang around that shop, because you know I will bust both of y'all in the head. I'm just saying in general. When's the last time you came and picked me up and took me somewhere?"

As he sat there thinking, I thought I saw a puff of smoke rise from the top of his head. He must have blown a fuse trying to strain his brain for an answer that we both knew was not there. He couldn't even come up with a good lie.

"I'll do you one even better. When's the last time you came over and had dinner with us? Hell, when is the last time you came over here at a decent enough hour to even still be hungry? Most of the time when I see you, it's close to eleven or twelve o'clock. By then, I'm too tired to enjoy your company."

Maurice spoke up.

"The reason I get here so late is because I be out all day hustling. I'm trying to make money. You think I be out there B.S.'ing with them niggas at the shop. But they come to me. They might be in there shooting dice or playing cards, or whatever, but while I'm in there, I'm working. And when you be seeing me all late, I may be just coming back in town from Charlotte or somewhere just so I could satisfy a customer. And a whole lot of times, I don't even feel like coming by here. I just want to go to the crib and get in my own bed and fall out. But, if I don't come by here, you'll lose it and be threatening to bust the windows out of my shop and stuff."

He chuckled at the little funny he made at the end. I had to laugh in spite of myself, while I pictured myself heaving a brick through the plate glass window at Hot Wheelz with a horrified Maurice standing by, watching helplessly.

I hated when he did stuff like that. No matter how mad or how serious I tried to be with him, it was absolutely impossible to stay that way.

"I never told you that. I told you that I was gonna let the air out of all your tires," I said, trying to stifle my giggle.

"See? Why women always gotta be so violent?"

The conversation kind of went south for a minute, after that. He had almost managed to weasel his way out of the discussion, again. I stopped laughing, abruptly.

"Oh, hell, no. I'm not playing with you, Maurice. This is serious, now."

He attempted to wipe the smile from his face.

"Okay, baby. I'm sorry. What else?"

"I'm saying, Reese. I wanna hang out and do stuff like Nat and Tarik. I wanna go out on dates, like to the movies and stuff."

"You don't even like the movies, E. And besides, you don't need to be trying to have what you see somebody else with. You don't know what they went through to get it. I don't know what Nat is filling your head with, but Tarik is in my face at the shop more than he is hers, so y'all 'bout in the same boat. She just don't be getting mad all the time like you do."

"Well, maybe, but there's still a big difference between our relationship and theirs."

He looked puzzled.

"What?"

"Tarik cares enough about Natalie that he actually sets aside time for her. Even if she only gets to see him once a week for two hours, she knows that's her time and nobody else's. He doesn't answer his phone or make plans during that time. For those couple of hours, it's all about her, even if they're not doing anything special. You know what I'm saying? Even I know not to call her on Thursday nights after eight because they always watch Smack Down together. Think about it. Y'all are tight friends, but do you and him ever do anything together on Thursday nights?"

He scratched his head.

"I don't know. I never thought about it."

"Yeah, right. You do know. Because you were just complaining a couple of weeks ago about how Tarik wouldn't even answer his phone when wrestling came on. Y'all idiots think that he's over there ignoring your calls because he don't wanna get interrupted in the middle of wrestling? He just don't want y'all inconsiderate asses to interrupt his quality time with his woman."

Maurice seemed to be in deep thought. I continued.

"Ya'll so wrapped up in trying to get paid and trying to maintain a relationship with each other that your girlfriends can't even get in where they fit in. You've been missing the whole point of these talks we always have."

"Well, what is the point?" Maurice asked, sincerely.

I rolled my eyes in the dark.

"Reese, I don't require that you spend every second of every day in my face. All I want is for the time that we spend together to be my time. Even when you do come see me, your damn phone rings a hundred times the first fifteen minutes you're here."

As if on cue, his cell phone rang. He looked at it, pushed a button and turned his attention back to me.

"Don't you need to answer that?" I asked.

"Naw, go ahead. I can call him back later. That wasn't nobody but Will. He don't want nothing."

"See? That's what I'm talking about. What if every time you came by here, my phone was blowing up and I stopped you fifty times in mid-sentence to talk to somebody else?"

"Well, first off, I wouldn't trip because I would hope that it would be an emergency at this time of night if I'm at your house," he said, indignantly.

"That's my point," I said. "You own a tire and rim shop. Ain't nobody buying no damn tires and rims at eleven o'clock at night."

"So what? You think that females are calling me on my phone?" he asked, defensively.

This whole conversation was getting tiresome. He just didn't get it. He never did. Personally, I thought he acted that ignorant on purpose.

"I don't care who you talk to, Maurice! All I'm saying is this. I know your free time is very limited because of the business. But when you do have free time, for the most part, it's spent with your boys. That leaves no time for me. I don't fit in anywhere. And I'm tired of sitting here by myself all the time. I don't like the fact that I'm turning into a nag like Renee. I know we both have our own lives, but what's the use of having a man in your life that you don't ever get to see? I get tired of having to beg you to spend some time with me, to look in my face sometimes, or just to pay me some attention! Either you want to be with me, or you don't. I can't keep going on like this. I'm getting tired of the same old."

"So, you telling me that you want to go be with somebody else?"

His voice was a mixture of fear and surprise.

"No, boy. I'm not saying that I want to be with somebody else. I just want the man I got to pay me some attention sometimes. That's all. Why is that so hard for you? If you can't do it, just say so because where one won't, another one will."

His head snapped back at that last sentence and his eyes got big. I kept talking, unfazed.

"Look, I'm just keeping it real. When I'm out by myself, guys approach me all the time. But, I'm loyal to a fault. If some of these men knew how much time I really spent by myself, I would have a date every freaking night if I wanted one. But I wouldn't do anything scandalous like that because I love you and I respect you as a man. And plus, that wouldn't be cool if one of your boys saw me out kicking it with some other dude. But it's time for you to step your game up, son. Because I'm tired of trying to justify in my own mind that things are fine the way they are. Because they're not."

He sat there, still and silent. I couldn't tell if he was really thinking about what I said, or if he was just being quiet in hopes that I would hurry up and finish bitching so he could move on with his life.

I asked, "You don't have anything to say to that?"

Without looking up, he said, "Yeah. I mean, you saying that you want me to make some time for you. I got you. I hear what you saying."

It amazed me how we managed to have this exact same conversation every couple of months and neither of us ever seemed to deviate from the script.

"Okay, so what are you going to do about it, Maurice?"

"I'ma just have to start spending more time with you."

"When, Reese?"

"Well, dang, E. Middle. I'm here, right? And you wasted most of the night fussing. That's why I don't take you nowhere. You like to fight, too much," he said, grinning. "So what? Do you wanna go ahead on and box right now and get it over with, or do you want to have some quality time with your man?"

His beautiful smile shone brighter than the moonlight. And that wonderfully unusual scar that branded him from the top of his forehead to his chin made his face beautifully unique. His face seemed to take on a whole different look in the night shadows. True, Maurice may have had his faults, but to me, he was still perfect.

I smiled at him and tickled his ribs with my toes. There was no way I was going to spoil the rest of my quality time. There was no telling when I would get any more any time soon.

Chapter 5

Being So Bad Tonight!

The chivalrous stunt that Maurice pulled at Friday's got the girls off my back for that moment, but a short time later, things pretty much went back to the way they had always been. In fact, I hadn't even seen Maurice since that night. I had spoken to him a few times and made attempts to get him to come by the house to have dinner or watch a movie, but he continuously blew me off.

Apparently, the boys at the shop had developed gambling fever and whenever money was falling, Maurice had to be right there to catch it. He allowed the guys to shoot dice in the back of the shop in the evenings, sometimes into the wee hours of the morning. Every now and then they would play cards, but the primary game of choice was a spirited dice game. I wasn't too crazy about the late night gambling that went on at Hot Wheelz after hours, but Maurice insisted that he couldn't count on a weekly paycheck like me and other people who had regular jobs. So, he still had to do what he needed to do to feed his family when business was slow. He claimed that he did it for the kids and me, but I had my doubts. Mostly, I felt like he did it to have an excuse not be home with me in the evenings.

Apparently, the guys that hung out at Hot Wheelz used the shop as a refuge from their wives and girlfriends, as well. And many of them were always there no matter what time of the day or night it is. There's this one guy that they call 'Pop,' who I would swear had a bed in the back of the shop had I not actually been back there to see for myself. What's worse is that he has a wife and four or five kids.

Whenever I saw him, I always wondered whether or not he caught hell from his wife for being gone all the time, or whether or not she got tired of not ever having a break from all those damn kids. And I wondered what was it exactly that has kept them married, since they are obviously leading separate lives. It seemed that they only got together once a year to make a baby. Then I wondered why and the hell I allowed myself to be basically in the same boat as she is, since I didn't see Maurice any more than Pop's wife saw him.

What I really had a hard time understanding is why Maurice and all the rest of the hoods that hang out in that shop even had the desire to have a woman in their life at all. It's like having a girlfriend was just their way to let everybody know that they could get one if they wanted one. We were kind of like status symbols. Just got one, 'cause you can. Or they had to have women to show each other and everyone else that they weren't gay. But the way they stayed up under each other all the time without their women around, who's falling for that?

By that Wednesday, my pride wouldn't let me call him and sweat him anymore about coming to the house. I hated feeling like I was running behind Maurice. I was never this insecure before his son was born. When I found out that he had a son without my knowledge, his excuse was that I didn't seem concerned with being serious, so he didn't think I wanted a relationship with him. When we first got together, Maurice made it clear that he just wanted to be friends. I was free to see whomever I wanted and I did. But as time went on, we started hanging out more and more to the point where neither of us had time to be around anyone else. Once I found out about the baby, I was heartbroken and stopped seeing him completely. But about a year later, we worked things out and decided to see each other exclusively. And since that time, I saw him even less than I did when we were just friends.

He thought that I was paranoid, but it meant nothing to him to cancel any plans that he and I might have together to stay at the shop instead of cutting everybody off at a certain time. He always used money as the excuse. When I asked him how it is that he always made time for he and the boys to hang out and do stuff, he claimed that none of their outings are ever planned. But mysteriously, they always manage to make it to Bike Week at Myrtle Beach every year, and there is absolutely nothing spontaneous about going there. Bike Week is a big gathering that they have every year the weekend before Memorial Day at Myrtle Beach, South Carolina for people who ride motorcycles and motorcycle buffs. It's a weeklong party that has grown so large over the years that you have to make reservations almost a year in advance to get a room just for the weekend.

And speaking of spontaneous, it's also an unspoken issue that I am not able to jump at the drop of a dime and go when I please because I have Tomika. He's never actually said it to me directly because he would never intentionally hurt my feelings. But he figured out a long time ago that he can't call me and ask me to meet him anywhere after work or take impromptu trips to New York or Atlanta like he's used to doing. So, I spend the majority of my time waiting for him to remember that he has a girlfriend at home, while he's out spending all of my quality time with other people.

He claimed to care so much about me, but his actions reflected the opposite. We never went on dates. The only time I really got to see him was late at night unless I cornered him at the shop. And most of the time, late at night, I'm half-asleep.

It wasn't like he was working all the time. The dice games didn't count as work because technically, they're illegal. And they did it for fun. But whenever I tried to break it off with him to give him some space, he just begged pardon and went out of his way to be nice and attentive so I would take him back. He'd start showing up early at my house with DVD movies or calling me at work to ask me to meet him at a specific place with Tomika to have dinner. Just enough to reel me back in so I'd take him back. But things usually went back to normal after a couple of weeks.

I rationalized that since he wouldn't let me walk away, he must've really loved me. But in reality, I had broken up with him so many times that he'd grown confident in the fact that I wasn't really going anywhere. If I'd tell him to stop calling me, he'd just wait about a week until things calmed down a bit, then call and act like nothing happened. And since I didn't have the guts to cut him loose for good, I'd take him back and wallow in all the guilty attention he lavished on me, hoping that that time the change in him would be permanent.

I didn't really want to break up with him. I loved Maurice with all my heart. I just wanted him to treat me in the way that a man is supposed to treat his woman, like I am the only woman in the world. I wasn't asking for a wedding. Hell, he hadn't even mastered the boyfriend thing, yet. I just wanted him to come over and bring dinner and watch a movie with me or play dominoes or Play Station. Something. Anything!

Ordinarily I would have moved on by now. But since Maurice and I had been together so long, I had basically cut myself off from other men, completely. And it gets lonely being by yourself all the time. Tomika is great company, but sometimes I longed for a little grown up time. I had my girlfriends but it's not like when you're young and in school and have all the time in the world to hang out and keep each other company. We're grown now and all have our own lives. Erica is married and completely absorbed with her family. Natalie divides all of her free time between Tarik and her son, Savion. And since Toy doesn't have any children or a man, I always felt like I would be imposing if I called her to hang out. I was sure that she had better things that she could be doing besides hanging out with me and Tomika.

I found that it is lonelier having a man that is never around than not having a man at all. It would get even lonelier when I would call Natalie and she can't talk because she and Tarik were doing something together, or even when Renee was arguing with Terrell about something. At least she had someone to talk to.

The phone calls from Desmond really helped to ease that loneliness. He'd usually call me between ten and ten thirty. Tomika would be in bed by then, and I'd piddling around the house because I don't sleep well most of the time. That time of the night was the worst because once Tomika is asleep the house seems so empty. The silence combined with the hollow drone of the television made me feel empty and hollow, as well. Desmond filled that space in my head and in my heart. I felt like a desired woman when we talked. He'd listen to what I had to say with interest. And his flirty banter made me feel sexy. If he hadn't been a married man, I would have probably given Maurice his walking papers a long time ago. But since Desmond was the closest thing I had to a man, at the time, I continued to put up with Maurice's foolishness until he decided to get himself together or at least until something better and single came along.

As I lay in bed contemplating my situation, the phone rang. Desmond was his normal cheery, sexy sounding self.

"So, what have you been up to these days?" I asked trying to play catch up. I hadn't spoken to him since early the previous week.

"Working on my golf game."

"I didn't know you played golf."

He chuckled.

"I do lots of things. I'm multitalented."

"I see," I said.

"So tell me something. When are you free?"

"I'm never free," I responded. "But I'm reasonable."

He laughed.

"I had to ask."

"Yep. Walked right into it. But seriously, I'm usually free after five during the week and all day on the weekends."

"Well," he said, slowly, "that wasn't exactly my definition of 'free.'"

I was puzzled.

"Oh. Well, do you mean free as in time of day, day of the week, or free as in not busy?"

"No, I mean free, as in do whatever you want to do when you want to do it, free."

I didn't know what he was getting at, but I played along.

"Oh. Well, in that case, never. But under the circumstances, I think it can be temporarily arranged."

"Okay. Think about it and call me. And maybe I can pay you a surprise visit and bring something with me when I come."

Desmond was a master ego stroker.

"Oh, really?" I said, curiously. "Something like what?"

"Sometimes, knowing takes all the fun out of the surprise," Desmond said, devilishly.

I could picture an impish grin spread across that handsome, chocolate face of his.

"True, but all the fun is in the anticipation," I retorted in my own mischievous voice.

"You might have a point on that one. And while I'm there, I can show you my golf swing."

I smiled.

"That must be one hell of a swing."

"Oh, yeah. I can really drive that ball hard off the tee..."

"Careful..." I said, stopping him in mid-sentence. Desmond was in rare form tonight. I wondered what had gotten into him.

"Yeah, I know. Thanks."

He paused, giving us both time to regain our composure. Then, he sighed.

"Anyway. Can you handle those two tasks I gave you?"

"Yep. I'll call you when I'm free, and I'll be thinking about what it is that you're going to bring me."

"You got it."

"No problem, mon," I said, trying to sound Jamaican. "I'm not hard to get along with. I'm very easy."

"That's all right with me, Missy. You just continue to be as easy as you want to be with me."

I gasped.

"You are being so bad tonight!"

"I know. I'm not sure what is coming over me."

I laughed at his poor innocent routine.

I could hear a muffled knock on his end of the phone.

"I think you'd better go take care of that person waiting outside your door so you can compose yourself, mister."

He laughed along with me.

"I think you're right."

"Have a good night."

"You, too."

There was nothing in the world that I hated more than speech making. But I had already promised Dr. Curtis that I would give a presentation at the next conference. I tried not to think about it and it snuck up on me so fast that I barely had time to sweat over it. But tonight, as I stood at the podium in front of all these people, I wished that I had never even heard the word 'presentation.'

I was a nervous wreck. My palms were all clammy and my legs felt like jelly as I rested my hands on the podium in an attempt to hold my balance. I wanted to run to the bathroom and throw up. I stood there with my head bowed, pretending to consult my notes before I began while I tried to muster up some hidden strength to open my mouth to say something.

I thought about what one of my co-workers said after finding out that I had been drafted to make this month's presentation.

"Try picturing the audience in their underwear as you talk. I heard that's supposed to calm you down and take your mind off being nervous," she had said.

I wasn't so sure, but I was willing to try just about anything to get me through this speech. The sooner I got it over with, the better.

Here goes nothing, I thought, mentally shrugging my shoulders.

I took a deep breath and slowly lifted my head with lips parted to address the group. A gasp escaped from somewhere deep inside me as my eyes focused in on my listeners.

My co-workers trick really worked. Picturing the crowd in their underwear really did take my mind off having to speak in public. In fact, my mind was not on the task at hand, at all. My audience consisted but of a sole member. It was Desmond sitting front row, dead center watching patiently for my mouth to move.

I stood motionless, not sure what to do. I guess I could tear up my notes from my original speech. Before I could decide my next plan of action, Desmond stood. To my sheer horror and delight, I discovered that he was not wearing underwear. He was wearing his birthday suit.

Chapter 6

Your Undivided Attention

Exactly three weeks, two days, seventeen hours, and forty-two minutes following the post-Friday's gathering at my house, I had to break down and call Maurice. There was nothing unusual about that, seeing as how I did most of the calling anyway, but this time, I had been bound and determined not to be the first one to call. But Solange, the receptionist in the office where I worked asked me to call him for her and see if I could get her a good price on some new tires for her car.

"I was wondering why you hadn't called me," Maurice said, cheerfully.

I took the receiver from my ear and looked at it. This man had more nerves of steel than Superman.

"I've been busy," I replied, casually.

"Busy doing what?" he wanted to know.

I had to will my face to come out of the frown that had quickly spread across it like an out of control wildfire. I could feel a headache coming on, but I was determined not to explode and have an aneurysm right there on the phone.

"I just had things to do," I responded, coolly.

"Oh," said Maurice, dismissively. "What size tire did you say your girl needed?"

Grateful for the distraction, I fiddled around for the piece of paper that I had written Solange's tire size on.

"Sixteen's. She said she wanted some just like the ones that were on the car when she bought it. Some Goodyear's."

"All right," he said. "Tell her that I can get them for her for about eighty-five dollars a piece or she can get the whole set for three hundred. If she gets the whole set, the price includes the charge to put them on and everything."

He must have been in a good mood today.

"That's all? Why you being so nice today?" I asked.

"Consider it my good deed for today. And besides, if I give your girl a discount, then she'll tell her girls and her man. Then on and on until I've got fifty new customers. I'm making a long-term investment, plus scoring some points with my woman."

Yeah, whatever.

"Oh, since when do you feel like you need to score points with me?"

He laughed.

"I can't never rack up enough points to keep you off my case, girl. I'm just trying to make enough hush money to put you in an X-5 and a house in North Raleigh."

It was just like him to try to buy my silence. But little did he know there wasn't enough money in the US treasury department to buy a zipper for my mouth.

"In that case, you better charge her full price for them tires," I said, dryly.

He laughed again.

"All right, then. Big Daddy gotta go get this paper, now. But, I'ma try to get over there about six tonight, okay?"

He said it so casual; no one else would have ever thought that I hadn't seen him in almost a month.

"Okay, Reese. But, can you make sure you call first before you come, please?" I asked, sweetly.

I smiled, sinisterly to myself. I knew that was a loaded question.

He paused.

"Why all of a sudden you want me to call you before I come? You got somebody else coming over tonight, or something?" he asked, warily.

I got so tired of playing this game, but I loved it when he felt his ego was in jeopardy.

"No, honey," I answered, innocently, "I might want you to stop by the store for me on your way in for some ice cream, or something. I've been craving sweets, lately."

He tried unsuccessfully to hide the relief in his voice.

"Oh, okay. That ain't no problem. I'll give you a call when I'm on the way."

"Okay, baby," I replied, with smug satisfaction. "Enjoy the rest of your day."

I had long since grown tired of these sporadic visits from Maurice, but since he apparently wanted to spend some time with me for whatever reason this day, I decided to prepare a special dinner in honor of having my man home with me for a change. He was never at my house during dinner and I could count on one hand how many times he had actually eaten my cooking in the last six years. Most of the time, he and the fellas went to Bahama Breeze for dinner, which was Maurice's favorite spot to eat. Going there was also one of his excuses for not taking me out to dinner with him. I had been there a couple of times, but I really wasn't crazy about blackened seafood and coconut shrimp, which was the gist of Caribbean food as far as I was concerned. The atmosphere in the place is very festive and it's a nice spot, but there's nothing other than drinks there that I felt good about spending my money on or anyone else's.

Since he opted to have dinner with us that night, I decided to remind him that his girlfriend was capable of feeding her man. I prepared a feast of barbecue chicken, turnip greens, macaroni and cheese, which was Tomika's favorite, and potato salad.

Maurice was unusually punctual and he stood in the kitchen and talked to me while I finished up with dinner. Tomika was in her room playing with her dolls and for a moment, all was right with the world.

Once I was done making iced tea, I asked Reese to go wash up for dinner and get Tomika so she could do the same. He left the kitchen, and I prepared to take the food to the dining room table. Just as I was taking the hot pan of chicken from the oven, the phone rang. I had stuff piled up on just about every inch of counter space in my small kitchen, and was trying to clear an open space on one of the counters so I could set the chicken down.

"Maurice, can you answer the phone for me, please?" I yelled to him.

After another half of a ring, it stopped. I waited to hear Maurice yell back for me to get the phone, but after a couple of minutes, the only thing I could hear was the television playing.

_That's strange_ , I thought while I stirred a pot on the stove. Maurice and I didn't live together and he was rarely here during evening hours, so I knew whoever it was on the phone couldn't have been calling for him. And besides, he had a cell phone and a Nextel two-way. All his friends and business associates knew how to reach him on one of those or they paged him. I looked up from the pot to call him again, but then finally decided that it was Natalie or Toy talking his ear off, or it was a wrong number.

Tomika came dragging in with a Barbie doll head that was dangling from a comb that was hopelessly tangled in its head.

"Is it time to eat yet, Miss Lady?" she asked, properly.

"Almost," I answered. "Is Maurice still on the phone back there?"

"I dunno. You want me to go see?"

"Yes, please ma'am. Can you tell him to hurry up? It's almost time for din-din."

"Okay," she bubbled and bounded out of the room.

Moments later, she returned to the kitchen, minus the doll head.

"Did you tell him what I said?" I asked.

"Yes, he said he will be in here in a minute," she reported.

"Thank you. What's he doing back there, anyway?"

"Umm, looking at something on your dresser, I think."

He was worse than Tomika about snooping around in my stuff. I never could figure out what was so fascinating about the things on my dresser, but Maurice could never leave my room without moving stuff around on my dresser, first.

I shook my head and smiled.

"You and Maurice ramble more than anybody else I know."

She adamantly denied the charge, but couldn't resist laughing at the truth in my statement.

"Not me. I don't ramble."

"Yeah, right," I teased. "Have you washed your hands?"

"Oops!" she exclaimed, having forgotten and rushed into the bathroom.

"Reese, are you ready to eat, baby?" I called into the bedroom.

"Yeah, babe, I'm coming!" he called back.

"What are you doing in there, Rambling Ron? Your partner in crime, Rambling Rose told me that you were in there on my dresser, again," I said, when he emerged from the back of the house.

He chuckled.

"Dang, she ratted me out, huh? She's supposed to cover for me when I do that."

He laughed and gave me a peck on the lips.

You must not be paying her enough," I said. "Don't change the subject. What were you doing in there? And who was that on the phone?"

"Oh, some cat named Desmond. He said for you to call him when you got a chance."

"Oh, okay," I said, trying to appear nonchalant.

I didn't even think about the possibility of it being him on the phone. It wasn't even seven o'clock. It was normally closer to ten when he called, but it never really mattered because Maurice was almost never here. He didn't even know Desmond existed until now. But he didn't appear to be fazed about the call.

"Who is Desmond?" he wanted to know.

"And old friend from Global Technology. He calls every now and then to talk."

"Mm hmm. Is this somebody that you used to kick it with?"

Maurice was not easily upset and normally didn't make a big deal about my male friends. But I could tell that he was a little concerned about Desmond. During the time that Maurice was resisting a committed relationship with me, he would get upset about other guys calling the house. And I would always ask him if he were jealous enough to give in. That usually shut him up, but this was the first time that he knew of another man calling the house since we actually got together. I guess he had taken for granted that I had cut everyone off after we became an official couple.

"No, silly. He's just a close friend. And anyway, that's a married man. He can't do nothing for me," I lied.

"So? That don't mean nothing."

"Well, the only person I'm interested in right now is you. How about that?"

I wrapped my arms around him and gave him a big kiss.

"You sure you're not waiting on that dude to divorce his wife?" he asked, suspiciously.

Maurice was a trip. He tried to make it sound like a joke, but I knew he was indirectly probing me for information.

I rolled my eyes at him.

"Naw, boy. I'm waiting on you to divorce your crew."

He tried unsuccessfully to suppress the broad smile that was invading his lips.

"Oh, here we go with that, again."

He threw up his hands and sighed.

"I don't know why you always trippin' about me and the boys. I mean, it ain't like I'm out there with other women. You always know where to find me. I'm either at the shop, home, or here. And if you need me, all you got to do is call."

I turned to face him.

"But where are you the majority of the time? It sure ain't here with me, and you only use that apartment to have somewhere to keep an extra bed when you don't feel like being bothered with me."

He tried to change the tone of the conversation.

"But where am I right now" he asked, earnestly.

"That's not the point."

"Well, what is the point, E. Middle?"

"I'm not supposed to have to fight with other people for quality time with my man!"

"Woman, please. You don't never fight with nobody else, but me."

Before I could come back, his Nextel two-way beeped.

"Saved by the bell, punk," I mumbled.

I recruited Tomika to finish setting the table while I finished what I was doing in the kitchen. I could hear Tarik's voice coming from the two-way.

"Where you at, Big Dawg?" he spoke.

Maurice answered back, "I'm on Poole Road getting ready to box."

Tarik laughed. "Oh no! Don't hurt him over there, E."

"Tarik, what you want? You interrupting my dinner!" I yelled from the kitchen sink.

"Oh, my bad, baby. I didn't want nothing, no way. Just wanted to see if Reese wanted to hang out later on with the boys."

I looked at Maurice, expectantly.

"Man, didn't I tell you that I was in here about to box with this woman? You tryin' to get me hurt up in here," he joked with his friend.

"So, is that a no-go, my brotha?"

"A definite no-go, bruh. I'm chillin' with the family tonight," he answered. He came up behind me and nuzzled me on the neck. I couldn't help but smile. We had never been referred to as 'the family' before. "Ten-four, good buddy," said Tarik, trying to sound like a trucker. 'T-man out."

"Peace."

"You know, you can be good when you want to be," I said to him.

"I'm good all the time. That's why you love me."

He walked up behind Tomika and pulled her ponytail.

"You ready to eat, Baby Girl?"

She giggled, inching away from him with her shoulders hunched up toward her neck.

As we sat down to eat dinner, Maurice's phone rang again.

"Hello?" he asked, trying to spoon turnip greens into his plate and hold the phone to his ear at the same time.

I glanced warily in his direction, but attempted to look unaffected by the unwelcome intrusion upon our "family" dinner.

He frowned and covered the mouthpiece of the phone.

"'Scuse me for a sec, E. I gotta take this one. Go ahead and start without me. I won't be long."

Without looking at him, I continued to pour tea into our glasses and fuss over the table to distract myself from the anxiety that had begun to build up in my insides. Whenever Maurice was at my house I could always count on his phone to ring incessantly the entire time he was here, even when he spent the night. I knew tonight would be no exception.

Tomika and I sat down and bowed our heads simultaneously to say a silent grace. She sensed the tension, as well, and looked up from her plate every few seconds toward the bedroom door where Maurice had retreated to take his phone call. My stomach was doing flip-flops and suddenly I wasn't hungry, anymore.

It would appear that there was always someone around undermining every attempt that I made to be happy with Maurice. I knew that the shop closed at seven, so there couldn't have been but so much business being conducted this late in the evening. I wondered if his phone rang like this when he was by himself, or when he was with his loyal subjects that appeared not to be able to do anything without 'King Maurice.'

The call was not long winded like I thought it would be and in a matter of minutes Maurice had returned to the table his usual jovial and famished self. He sat down at the table, bowed his head for a lightning quick blessing of his food, and dove into his plate almost face first.

"Boy, can't nobody cook like E. Middle."

I looked up from my plate, blushing.

"Baby Girl, I'ma have to start going with you to Tae Kwon Do class if your mama keeps feeding us this good."

"Well, you can go with me to class, Uncle Reese, but you will have to be in the white belt class with the other people that just started," Tomika said, matter-of-factly.

"Why can't I be in the class with you, Baby Girl?" Maurice asked.

"Because I just passed my test last week and I'm a orange belt, now," Tomika boasted.

"An orange belt?" Maurice asked. "And what does an orange belt mean?"

Tomika put down her fork. "It means I got skills!"

Maurice and I laughed together. Tomika had been taking martial arts training for the last few months and was really doing well. Her confidence was through the roof, and I was pleased that she was so sure of herself these days. At almost five feet tall and not quite nine-years-old, Tomika was exceptionally tall for her age. Before starting Tae Kwon Do, she wasn't really interested in sports or anything else if it didn't involve Nickelodeon television.

Maurice turned to me.

"You didn't tell me that Baby Girl earned a belt. That's hot!"

"I probably just hadn't gotten around to it. It's so late when you get here most of the time that I'm half asleep when you come in."

Tomika interrupted.

"Uncle Reese, I got a trophy, too!"

"You did?"

"Uh-huh. I was in a tournament and I won a match."

"You go, girl!" Maurice encouraged. "Can I sit your trophy up in my shop for a little while so everybody can see that my baby girl won her first match?"

He was as proud of her as I was.

"Yeah, and..."

I interrupted.

"Slow your roll, Tee Tee. Mommy doesn't want that trophy to leave this house. Understand?"

"Yes, ma'am," Tomika pouted.

"Tell you what," I offered. "Instead of taking the trophy, why don't we..."

Before I could finish my thought, the phone rang again.

"Damn! Oops. Sorry, Tee Tee. Wait a minute, baby. Hello? Yeah, wassup...Naw, man. I'm chillin', tonight...for real? Naw, that's all right. Peace."

He turned back to me.

"Now, what were you saying, Ma?"

I rolled my eyes down into my plate. Those thugs that hung out at the shop never seemed to have anywhere else to go unless they could be accompanied by Maurice. It burned me up that I always had to compete with them for his attention.

"Nothing," I said through clenched teeth. "I was just saying that instead of taking the trophy to the shop, take the certificate and hang it up, instead. It's the same thing. Them niggas can read, can't they?"

He laughed.

"Most of them can."

I relaxed a little. Maurice was so easy-going that it was contagious. I smiled at him as he and Tomika continued to chat about her match. Things would be so much better if he would only try a little harder.

His phone rang again.

Tomika got up from the table and carried her plate to the sink.

"Mommy, can I go play with Haley and Shalimar, now?"

"Did you get enough to eat?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"Well, you tell Miss Tina to send you home at seven forty-five and call me before you leave."

"Okay."

When I returned to the table after making sure Tomika got to the neighbors' house safely, Maurice was still on the phone.

"A'ight, I'll holla."

I was through pretending that I was still hungry by this time, and got up to clear my plate from the table. Maurice came up behind me and squeezed my elbow.

"You finished eating, already? Now I got to eat by myself."

I rolled my eyes at him.

"You don't need my company. Just take your plate and the phone in the bedroom and finish eating in there."

"See? You trippin'. All those calls were important or I wouldn't have taken them. And one of them was an opportunity for me to make some money, but I turned it down to be with you. And for what? For you to spend it with you mouth tore up, as usual. Damn, Ericka! You always complaining about me not spending no time with you, but when I'm here, all you do is complain. I'm doing the best I can. What else do you want?"

"You know what? I don't want a damn thing from you, okay? I didn't think your undivided attention every now and then would be too much to ask, but apparently, I was wrong. My bad."

I set the dishes in the sink and continued to clean the kitchen. I was mad enough to throw stuff, but since everything in the house was mine I remained calm. No use breaking up my own dishes because I'm mad with someone else. He was just like a little kid. He didn't understand anything and I was tired of trying to explain it to him. Tomika was my child, and I had taken on another one by involving myself with Maurice. My expectations for a nice evening at home with my man had been shattered. Oh, well. At least my kitchen would be clean.

Maurice sighed deeply and started toward the door, but stopped short as the phone rang yet again. He walked back to where I stood in the kitchen, the phone still ringing in his hand.

"You know what, Ericka. I apologize. Part of this is my fault for not doing this a long time ago."

He switched off the phone in mid-ring and handed it to me.

"Tonight, this belongs to you, and you belong to me."

Chapter 7

There It Is

"If you could have anything in the world for your birthday this year, what would you ask for?"

I wasn't sure where he was going with this question, so I hesitated to answer.

"Who am I asking for it?" was, instead, my cautious response.

"Anybody"

I needed clarity. "Even you?"

"Especially me." He said slyly.

This man was really starting to grow on me; for real this time. We had been having these late night conversations for over a year now, but so far, had kept our distance from each other in person. There was something building between the two of us that we had been trying to avoid for months. But, it was getting harder and harder to ignore.

I began, slowly.

"May I be real with you?"

"I've grown to expect nothing less from you at this point." He anticipated what was coming next.

Carefully, I started again.

"Well... if you really want to know the truth, what I'd really like for my birthday is to be with you."

Silence.

I tried to explain.

"What I mean is, well, um... Look, Desmond. Let's stop frontin' like all we're doing is enjoying the fruits of our intellect in stimulating conversation."

He tried to sound surprised, but I detected a hint of amusement in his voice.

"Well, isn't that what we've been doing?'

He was enjoying this, but I wasn't having so much fun, anymore. I became indignant.

"Yeah, but you know what I mean."

He tried to suppress his amusement.

"I'm sorry if I'm putting you on the spot, and I do know what you mean. I'm just curious to hear your take on all this."

I relaxed a little. We both felt the same way, yet we continued to play this silly game of cat and mouse. Because I knew that my feelings were wrong, I still felt very uneasy about actually expressing them out loud. Once I did that, it was like the sin had been committed. And besides that, I originally had no intentions of being the first one to admit it, but there was no turning back, now.

"Well, here goes nothing. Desmond, I think you know that I have always been attracted to you, ever since the first time I saw you. I dream about us being together all the time, I love the phone conversations that we have every night. Hearing your voice on the other end of the phone... I can almost feel you nibbling on my ear."

Hmmm, that's interesting. Go on."

There was no turning back now. I continued.

"Well, I've been having these dreams about you almost every night since we met. Very erotic dreams. I know I shouldn't feel this way. You got a wife. But, I've always wondered what it would be like to have you as my man for just one night. And since you asked, for my birthday that's what I want. I want to have you for just one night. I want to pretend that you belong to me."

No response. He seemed to be in deep thought. I waited in uncomfortable silence.

After what seemed to be an eternity, Desmond sighed deeply, and began.

"I have another question for you, Ericka."

"What's that?"

"Why didn't you tell me all this before?"

Oh, no he didn't.

"It would appear that we both feel the same, so why don't you answer that question for me, Mister? Why haven't you said anything? Isn't the male always the aggressor in this type of situation?"

"And what type of situation is that, may I ask?"

"The type of situation that produces an extra marital affair. Oh, God. That sounded so not-good."

He laughed.

"It does sound really unsavory when you put it in those terms, but I guess there is no way you can make lust sound pretty. But, to answer your question, I believe there are more ways to be attracted to someone other than just sexually. Hell, I'd be lying if I said I wasn't feeling you, too. You're sweet, charming, and finer than Halle Berry."

"Yeah, right," I interjected, sarcastically. _But flattery will get you most places you want to go,_ I silently mused.

He skimmed right by my comment, not wanting to break his train of thought.

"But I never came clean because I wasn't willing to risk our friendship by saying something you might consider disrespectful. I mean, you have always been careful not to step out of line when we talk, and amazingly enough, you've always had the utmost respect for my marriage. In some ways, even more so than I have at times, I'm sorry to say. But I didn't want you to think less of me for not having as much respect for it as you did. And I also didn't want to disrespect you, either."

"But the truth is I really do think that you are a beautiful woman, inside and out. And I don't believe that I have ever been able to talk to anyone as openly and freely as I talk to you, and I've developed a craving for our friendship."

"I've held myself at bay because I'm kind of afraid that the craving will manifest itself into something that I may never be able to or want to control. I guess you might say that I'm afraid of you, Ericka."

I was feeling his pain. He scared the hell out of me, too. Whenever we talked, I was constantly watching what I said; always afraid that something I say would lead me somewhere that I may not be able to return. Our conversation was basically small talk. We also talked now and then about male and female relationships, but it was usually very general, unless I talked with him about a problem between Maurice and me. But, he never offered any details about his wife, specifically, and I never asked.

The aura of confidence surrounding him was magnetic. Desmond could literally charm the panties off any woman, and I was afraid that if I slept with him, I would never be able to recover. I wasn't crazy about the idea of becoming a scorned psycho. And since I already knew that there was nothing he could ultimately give me besides a broken heart, I knew that a psycho bitch was all I was destined to be if I went there with him. But my curiosity was overwhelming, so I threw caution to the wind and treaded boldly into deeper waters.

"So, I guess the next question now is what, if anything, are we going to do with this newly acquired information," I said.

"Well, I'm not sure that I want to do anything with it, just yet," he replied, "but what day is your birthday on again?"

"June 1st; that's on a Friday."

"Cool. We have a little less than a month. We'll continue this conversation before then. Is that okay with you?"

"Fine with me. I need to lie down, anyway. It's almost twelve o'clock."

"I understand. Same time, tomorrow?"

"Yep. I'll charge up the cordless."

He laughed.

"You're too much."

Smiling to myself, I responded, "I know. Be careful going home, rest peacefully. Speak to you tomorrow."

"I will, you, too, and looking forward to it."

So, Pandora's Box had been opened, and all I could do now was to wait for the mayhem to ensue.

I could sum it all up with a quote from my favorite Genuwine song. "There it is."

It was almost midnight when the call was made over the loudspeaker to begin boarding my flight. The airport still bustled with people making their respective connections, but oddly enough there was still hardly anyone waiting to board the huge commercial airline that would take me home. The attendant explained that it was not unusual to have an almost empty flight this time of evening. After all, it was the middle of the night. She gave me a reassuring smile as I boarded the plane and chose a window seat in the rear. Other than the lights that lined the runway outside, there was only darkness as far as the eye could see. I settled back into my seat and closed my eyes, listening to the roar of the engines as we taxied down the runway for takeoff. The hum of the motor was comforting and I began to doze off immediately. The gentle touch of a hand on my shoulder interrupted my thoughts. I opened my eyes to see the handsome pilot standing in the aisle next to me. Though his hat covered most of his face, I could tell from his strong jaw line that he was a beautiful man. He had smooth, chocolate skin, and a smile that lit up the cabin. And the sound of his smooth, velvety voice lit a fire under my skirt.

"Excuse me, miss, but I understand that you are traveling alone on this flight."

"Yes, I am," I answered, slightly startled and confused.

"Well, I've come to guarantee that your flight is the most pleasurable and memorable flight you've ever had."

I smiled at him. "Well, thank you. I'm very flattered, but shouldn't you be flying the plane?"

He leaned over and stuck his hand between my legs. "I guess I should, but if I do that, then what is the co-pilot supposed to do?"

I squirmed in my seat in anticipation. Here I was being groped by a strange man that claimed to be the pilot of an airplane that I was flying in. But incredibly, I was aroused instead of alarmed. I grabbed his necktie and pulled his face closer to mine. As he fell toward me, his hat came off. To my amazement, the pilot turned out to be Desmond and he had come to induct me into the mile-high club.

Our welcoming tongues danced to the beat of the song that was playing in our heads. We began to explore one another right there in the back of the plane. The temperature in the cabin seemed to rise as fast as the intensity and the urgency of our lust. Our clothes seemed to melt off in the heat of the moment as I straddled his seated frame.

Desmond entered my flesh with a forceful thrust and my body reciprocated with all the yearning and fire that had been pent up inside both of us for so long. I oohed and ahhed in ecstasy, not caring if the other passengers on the plane overheard my moans.

I rode him, long and hard, faster and faster until my screams became impossible for me to suppress...

Chapter 8

Yours for Tonight

I decided not to take the day off for my birthday. Maurice and I had originally planned to go to Myrtle Beach, but he was unexpectedly called away on business. My daughter had gone with my parents to Philadelphia to a family reunion for a couple of weeks, and I didn't want to go to the beach by myself. Besides, I could use that vacation time for something better once Maurice came back.

He sent me a dozen yellow roses and a balloon bouquet to my office. And my co-workers chipped in and bought me a bottle of my favorite Scuppernong wine made by Duplin wineries and a gift certificate for a manicure and pedicure at this new day spa in town that I had been talking about going to. Dr. Curtis even took me to Sullivan's Steak House for a long lunch. The day turned out pretty well, considering I still had no plans for the rest of the evening.

I spent the rest of my day trying unsuccessfully to keep my mind on reconciling some past due accounts, and at the same time figure out how I would spend the rest of my birthday. I thought about treating myself to dinner at Zydeco, a hot restaurant and lounge spot in downtown City Market owned by former pro football player, Antoine Harris. It was a laid back spot for the metropolitan thirty-plus crowd that everybody went to get away from the young college scene that all but dominated Raleigh's nightlife. The atmosphere is laid back and Mama Harris' wings are good enough to make you think about slapping your own mama. And besides that, the Jus Once Band and Show, my favorite local go-go band, was going to be there. I called Renee to see if she wanted to go with me. Besides liking the spot, she said the name Zydeco made her think of her home in New Orleans.

"What's up, birthday girl" she greeted me in her usual cheery fashion.

"Nothing much. You busy?"

"I guess I should be, but I'm not," she laughed. "What time are you and Reese leaving for the beach?"

"Change of plans. Maurice has to go out of town on business," I answered dryly.

"Girl, what happened? I thought you were having sex on the beach for your birthday."

"I was, but somebody's rims got lost somewhere down in Florida, so he had to go out of town and find them or get some more. He left at five this morning."

She was livid.

"Maurice is losing cool points with me at a rapid pace, Ericka. That's the third time in a month. I mean, damn, it is your birthday. How he gone make up for that shit?"

"I don't know, man. I'm trying be understanding because he is working. Now if he was canceling on me to go to bike week, or something trifling like that, then we might have some problems. And besides, who am I to stand in the way of a man that actually wants to work?"

She was unwavering.

"Yeah, but still..."

"Renee, shut the hell up. You are giving me a headache. There's nothing I can do about, now. He's gone. And that's not why I called you, anyway."

Sometimes she got on my nerves. She's always got something to tell you about you and your man, yet ain't nothing ever right between her and her own man.

"Well what do you want, heifer? Boy, you are starting to get evil in your old age."

Sometimes, I could just strangle her Creole ass. I took a deep breath.

"I would check myself, if I were you, chicken. None of these flowers and shit on my desk came from you. And we been on the phone almost ten minutes and you barely said 'Happy Birthday.' Damn."

She laughed.

"Well, my bad, 'Queen B.' Happy Birthday. What is it that you called me for? And I baked you a damn cake, so recognize that, heifer."

"Thank you, Boo Boo. I called to ask you if you wanted to go with me to Zydeco tonight to see Jus Once. I made the reservations for 7:30."

"That will be cool. Terrell can watch the kids since his boring ass don't never want to do nothing else."

"Why don't you ask him if he wants to come? Can't your mom or your sister keep the kids?"

She replied, "You know he's not trying to go nowhere with me, you, Toy, and Nat."

"They're not going. They both made plans after I told them I was going out of town with Reese. So, it's just me, right now."

"Cool. Then I'll ask Jason to come with us so you won't have to be a third wheel," Renee added, mischievously.

It was no secret that Renee hated Maurice and had been trying to get her brother, Jason and I together for years. About a year and a half older than she, Jason was a successful contractor who was also an amateur motorcycle racer. Besides being twenty-five and a little young for my tastes, he was the exact opposite of his chocolate sister with fair skin, curly hair, and freckles. But he was a really nice guy and I secretly thought that he was one sexy, red man. Well, it wasn't really a secret because Big Mouth told him that I thought he was handsome. But it turned out that the feeling was mutual, so now we just flirt and make goo-goo eyes at each other. Since we're both seeing someone, we don't go any further. Renee was displeased with the choices that Jason and I made, but she still held out hope that we would dump our respective mates and turn to each other.

"You can ask him, if you want to." I tried to sound nonchalant.

She giggled, "See, you ain't shit."

"Oh, go to hell. Just have yourself and whoever else that wants to participate in the birthday festivities at my house at 7:00 sharp. My birthday did not start on CP time, and neither will my party. You got that?"

"Yeah, whatever. Anyway. I'll see you at seven. I'll call you on your cell once you leave the office."

"Cool. I'll holla later."

The day could not have gone any slower. I was tired just from sitting down all day staring out the window, until Dr. Curtis finally came in and told me to go on and enjoy my birthday. I gathered my purse and the balloons and flowers that Maurice sent and headed out to the back parking lot where my old Dodge Raider was parked. Most of the other employees had already left for the weekend.

As I approached my vehicle, an unusual sight stopped me dead in my tracks. Someone had left some balloons inside my truck. I looked around the parking lot, waiting on someone to jump out and yell 'Surprise!' but there were only a few other cars in the parking lot.

_Strange_ , I thought to myself as I untied the card from the balloon string. I put all the balloons in the back of the truck, and weighted them down as best I could so they wouldn't block my view while I drove home.

I climbed into the driver's seat and stared at the large envelope with my name neatly printed on the front. On the front of the card, there was a beautiful picture of a handsome black couple on some exotic beach watching the sunset as they held each other. It reminded me of how I was supposed to be spending my birthday. I sighed wistfully to myself, and as I opened the card, a piece of plastic fell into my lap. It was a hotel room entry card. My heart began to pound as I read the inside of the birthday greeting.

Happy Birthday and Congratulations. I'm happy to inform you that your birthday wish has been granted. Your presence is requested at the beautiful Sunset Resort at Wrightsville Beach, NC. There you will spend a magical evening with the man of your dreams. Your instructions are to drive directly to the hotel, stopping only for gas. Everything you need has already been provided and is waiting for you in your suite. Drive safely and see you soon. Yours for tonight, Desmond.

I couldn't believe this was happening. Desmond and I had not continued the birthday wish conversation as agreed, and I had all but forgotten about it. In fact, I hadn't even talked to him since I called him that Monday night after finding out that Maurice had canceled our plans. Desmond had told me that he had a class to attend out of town for his job, and he wasn't scheduled to come back until Tuesday. So, that was it. When I told him that Maurice was not taking me to the beach for my birthday after all, he must have made the plans then. This was just too much. I had to call Renee.

The phone rang, just as I was about to dial. It was her calling me.

"Girl, guess what?" I was dying to tell her.

I told her about my little surprise.

"Oh, my God! That is about the most romantic thing that I've ever heard. Are you on your way, now?"

"Not yet, I barely got in the truck. I'm leaving now, though. But, are you cool with me breaking our plans like that?"

She sucked her teeth. "Girl, please. Far be it from me to stand in the way of somebody getting some birthday booty. And in a high class place like that, too? I'd be mad if you didn't go."

I laughed. For a married woman, Renee was the most scandalous female I knew.

"You mean, you don't have a problem with my traipsing off to have an affair with a married man?"

"Girl, no. As long as it ain't my married man."

"Oh, please. Don't nobody want Terrell's ass, but you."

As much as those two argued, they loved each other to death. It was sickening.

She laughed. "Anyway. I heard that the Sunset was expensive. Damned if you didn't hit the jackpot on this one. I knew you were an undercover Ivanna Trump ho. You need to teach me them coochie tricks, so I can get Terrell to come out of his pockets and buy us a house."

"What coochie tricks, fool? I haven't been with Desmond."

"For real? I could have sworn that you already slept with him" For some reason, Renee thought that I was an undercover freak, or something. She thought I had slept with everybody, including her brother.

"Nope, not yet. But call me next week to schedule an appointment for your first lesson," I joked.

"You so crazy, "she replied. "You better put it on him, too, girl. Make Mama proud."

"I'll see what I can do. So, are you still going to Yancey's?"

"Yeah. Terrell still hasn't made up his mind about whether or not he's going. But Jason definitely wants to go, so it may just be me and my brother."

"Almost makes me want to change my mind and go with y'all," I mused.

"You better try to stay where you are, 'cuz Jason wouldn't take you to the Sunset, even if he had the money. Trust and believe, you are much better off, even if the man is married."

"Oh, well, didn't hurt to try, I guess."

"Call me as soon as you walk in. I want to hear all about your luxurious accommodations."

"Okay."

"Holla at you, later. Be careful."

"I will. And y'all have a good time, tonight, too."

I laid my head back on the seat and closed my eyes. This was almost completely overwhelming. It was kind of like getting to the good part of a Terry McMillan novel. Desmond had actually booked us a suite at an exclusive hotel at the beach. And the note said that everything I needed would already be at the room. Did that mean I had clothes, too? It had to, because I didn't have time to go home and pack a bag. This was definitely soap opera material. But, I wasn't sure that I was ready for all the drama that was sure to come with it. No matter how good everything seemed to be, he was still a married man, and things were bound to take a turn for the worst.

There I was having a tug-of-war with myself about a moral dilemma that I created. I was the one who started this crap about wanting him for my birthday. I could have lied and said that I wanted an mp3 player or something. Instead, I was sitting in my truck afraid to start it up and drive. I was like a bad ass kid stalling to avoid a punishment.

Honestly, I really didn't have any qualms about spending my birthday with Desmond. We always knew that at some point it would all come down to this. Desmond flirted with me shamelessly when I worked at Global Technology, and I flirted back with even less shame. All of our co-workers knew that I had a thing for him and I'm sure somebody told him. They couldn't wait for us to finally lock horns. That would have been the best thing that ever happened for all those busy bodies on the job. And Desmond never seemed to mind that everyone else had noticed the chemistry that was between us.

My problem was that I was not oblivious to the fact that my feelings were wrong, and what I was about to do was even more wrong. I couldn't go running off to paradise to meet the married man of my dreams. He was someone else's soul mate, and entering into an affair with him was enough to put the chances of finding my own soul mate in jeopardy. He was never going to leave his wife, no matter what problems they were having, and getting involved lowered my chances of ever being married. If Maurice found out that I had been seeing someone else, he would never speak to me again. Then there was the payback, bad karma thing that I truly believed in. There was no way that I could expect good things to happen to me if I consciously and willing slept with another woman's husband, no matter what the situation was in their house. And how could I expect to ride off into the sunset with Desmond and live happily ever after if I alienated his wife's affection in order to be with him?

If nothing else, I remembered how it felt when I found out that Tomika's father, Lance had been sleeping with that other girl almost the whole time I was pregnant. She was completely aware that I existed and totally flippant about the affect that their relationship may have been having on our unborn child or me. She continued to be with him even after I kicked him out of the house, and then he left her and married someone else, entirely. It actually made me feel bad to know that I might be having that same type of impact on someone's life. I was becoming the type of woman that I loathed. I wasn't thinking about anyone, but myself.

After over an hour of being in deep thought, I realized that I was almost in Wallace, a small town right outside of Wilmington. I had about another hour to drive before I reached my final destination. It was too late to turn around, or at least, that was my way of justifying not doing a U-turn right there in the middle of the road. But even after listening to the voice of reason in my head, I had decided that I wanted to go and be with Desmond more than I wanted to do the right thing. I continued on.

As a distraction, I decided to call Desmond at the hotel. He sounded so relaxed. "Whatcha know good, Birthday Girl?"

"I know that I'm about forty minutes away from you, right now," I said, as casually as I could muster.

"Glad to hear it," was his response. "You kind of had me worried for a minute. I thought you were calling to tell me that you decided not to come."

"After all the trouble you went through putting everything together, I wouldn't dream of standing you up," I lied.

"I would have understood. After all, it was short notice. I imagine that you probably made other plans after Maurice canceled on you," he said.

"Well, I did, actually, but Renee didn't have a problem with me switching up on her after she found out that her birthday present had been so easily topped," I laughed. "And besides, it's nice to have regained a little bit of the spontaneity of my youth."

"I'm surprised she didn't try to come with you," Desmond teased.

"She didn't, but I don't think she would have turned me down if I had suggested it to her."

Changing the subject, Desmond said, "You must have been speeding. You got here almost 45 minutes ahead of schedule driving in afternoon traffic. It's not even six o'clock."

"No more than usual," I responded. "I left work early." I have a very heavy foot with a high insurance premium to prove it.

He had already talked me the rest of the way to the hotel, so I ended the conversation abruptly.

"I'm in the hotel parking lot. See you shortly."

Chapter 9

"Honey, I'm Home!"

I was nervous and eager with anticipation. I was also feeling some residual guilt about not turning around and going back home. I shook it off and started toward the hotel entrance. The lobby was spacious and bright. There was a slight bustle of traffic at the front desk from weary travelers arriving to start a weekend of fun and relaxation. There were also others coming out of the hotel, like they were on their way out for an evening on the town. They had probably arrived early or had already been there a couple of days. I smiled at an older couple that looked as though they were dressed for dinner. They both waved a friendly greeting. I could feel my blood pressure drop ten degrees. It was going to be a great birthday, after all.

The room had already been paid for, and I already had my key, so I all I needed to do was find out where my room was. When my turn finally came, I asked the attendant.

"Excuse me, can you tell me where room 603 is?"

"Yes, ma'am," answered the desk clerk. "If you take the first set of elevators to the top floor, you will see it directly in front of you on the right. It's the penthouse suite. Are you Ms. Middleton?"

Penthouse? I felt a little like Liz Taylor, but more like Lil' Kim.

"Yes, that's me."

"Your companion has already checked in and taken care of everything. Do you have your room key?" She sounded a little too chipper for me, like she knew my dirty little secret.

"Yes, I have it, right here."

"Good. You also need this elevator key to enter the penthouse floor. Just insert the key into the keyhole inside the elevator to gain access to the floor. The room service extension is '11.' Call us if you need anything at all. There is a complimentary turn down service at 7:30. There will be an adult mixer in the bar beginning at nine, and room service should be preparing to bring dinner soon. Do you need any assistance carrying your bags?"

I was impressed. Now I felt like Beyonce' coming to meet Jay-Z.

"No, thank you." I patted my purse that hung on my shoulder. "I'm traveling light, this time."

"Very good, then, Ms. Middleton. Let us know if there is anything at all that we can do to make your stay more pleasant. Oh, by the way, Happy Birthday." She gave me a sly wink.

Wow. How did she know? "Thank you...thanks you very much."

Sensing my confusion, she explained. "We have been helping Mr. Wright prepare for your birthday almost all day. It's all very romantic. Have you two been seeing each other a long time?"

"Um...well, actually, this is my first birthday with him officially." If she only knew.

"Well, I think that's great. You're very lucky." She wasn't that bad, after all.

"I think so," was all I could think of, in response.

"Well, you have a beautiful night ahead of you. I hope you two have a great time. Oh, and be sure to act surprised." She grinned widely, and gave me a knowing look.

"I will, and thanks for the heads up."

When I stepped off the elevator, I realized that there were only two other suites on the whole floor. The atmosphere was completely different on this floor than that of other hotels I had stayed. There wasn't anyone milling around in the halls or going to the ice machine at the end of the floor. And there didn't seem to be an excessive amount of activity going on in the other two rooms. Or at least I couldn't hear any.

I took a deep breath to gain my composure. I inserted the hotel card in the door, and pushed it open. I didn't see Desmond at first, so I called out, "Honey, I'm home!"

Then he emerged from the other room. He was a vision of masculinity in a pair of navy blue silk boxers. His skin was flawless and well oiled. He reminded me of Richard T. Jones with hair. His body was even more perfect than I imagined. I stood in the door, frozen in complete awe.

He walked over and took my hand, gently tugging me across the threshold into the suite. He embraced me and kissed me delicately on the forehead. "Happy Birthday, Good-looking. I see you didn't have any problems making it here."

I shuddered a little at that kiss. His lips had never actually made contact with me anywhere before. "Thanks. The traffic wasn't too bad. I guess everybody that was going on vacation did the smart thing and took the day off."

I looked around the room. This place was twice the size of my apartment. Everything was absolutely gorgeous. The color scheme was a traditional coastal pattern of soft pastels, complete with beautifully framed watercolors of seashells and lighthouses. There was beautiful wicker furniture in the living room, complete with a papasan chair. There was thick, plush carpet all over the suite, except for the kitchen. It was so thick; you could lose your shoes in it. Outside on the balcony was a hammock chairs swinging from its base. The suite was actually more like a luxury apartment than a hotel room. I was floored.

"Desmond, you did not have to do all of this," I said, apologetically. "This seems way too much for a birthday gift."

Desmond walked up behind me and put his hand on my shoulder. "On the contrary, my sweet. This is not nearly enough. And besides, you haven't seen the whole place, yet. Follow me."

To my amazement, a wall that appeared to separate the living area and the bedroom in the suite actually hid a winding staircase that led to an upstairs loft, which was the master bedroom. I was completely blown away. I had always been fond of lofts, and for the first time in my life, I was actually going to get to sleep on one. I controlled the urge to rush up the stairs and jump up and down on the bed. I didn't want him to think I had never been anywhere.

The loft was positioned in the far corner ceiling, facing the door, and was fenced in by a wooden banister. It faced the picture window, giving me a perfect view of the ocean. I realized that I had missed this most important part of the suite on my initial inspection.

The bed was covered with a sheer canopy arranged sort of like a tent. There was a sand colored crocheted coverlet on the bed, with big fluffy pillows at the head. There was soft, track lighting overhead, and ceiling fans at each end of the loft. In the far corner at the foot of the bed, was an overstuffed chair with a small table next to it, perfect for curling up with a good book and a midnight snack. The floors were hardwood and covered with a huge, braided area rug.

Lying on the bed were several outfits that Desmond had bought for the trip. There was a skimpy two-piece bikini with a snakeskin print and a long, black sarong to cover the bottom. There was also a white tennis skirt with a yellow halter-top, with a strap that went around the neck; a pair of jean Capri pants with a matching camp shirt and red halter shell; a pair of those hot, new sandals made by Caterpillar that I have not been able to find anywhere; and a deep mauve, silk lounge outfit with a pair of drawstring pants, a tank, and robe. The man had taste in clothes, too.

It was completely uncanny. How did he know to buy all this stuff? We had had many conversations over the last few months, but they were rarely about clothes. I knew what I liked but I hate shopping for it. I would not be caught dead in the mall for more than forty-five minutes. And with me being a tomboy at heart it makes it even more amazing to me that he was actually able to shop for me using a minimal amount of information.

Desmond had been standing at the door quietly, but anxiously awaiting my response to his carefully made purchases. I turned to face him.

"Thank you for going out of your way to transform my mediocre birthday into an extraordinary fairy tale come true. I love it all. Things have never turned out the way I have expected them to, but this evening has already greatly exceeded my expectations." I knew it sounded corny, but was there anything I could say that would top everything that had happened to me in the last couple of hours?

He took my hand.

"This is my way of thanking you for being my friend. Just the conversations that we have on the phone everyday are enough to give me reason to get out of bed every morning. You are very special to me. And I just wanted to tell you in my own way."

Desmond seemed to have drifted off to a far off place as he talked. His expression became serious.

"You certainly have a way with words," I said, lightening the mood.

He gave me a squeeze around my middle.

"Dinner is almost ready. Why don't you go down stairs and shower and change, while I finish up in the kitchen."

"Oh, room service has already been here?" I asked.

"It's your birthday, sweetie. I'm room service tonight," he said, seductively.

Wow! I gave him a quick peck on the lips. "Sounds like a plan," I replied, trying to appear unaffected. "By the way, do I smell crab legs?"

"Yep."

"I don't know if you know this or not, but the best way to a woman's heart is also through her stomach," I said, heading down the steps.

"I know," he called behind him. "I'm way ahead of you."

I showered and lotioned my body with my Bath and Body Works Apple Martini scented lotion, which was my favorite scent. Afterwards, I slid into the new loungewear that Desmond bought. I loved the way silk felt against my skin. I sprayed a hint of body spray behind each ear for the full effect, and headed downstairs for dinner.

We had dinner in the sunroom overlooking the ocean. The food was wonderful and the view was spectacular. We started out with a fresh garden salad with delicious vinaigrette dressing followed by a spicy seafood gumbo appetizer. I could have eaten that by itself, had I not known that the crab legs were to follow as the main course. After finishing the appetizer, Desmond served the crab legs, with a rich butter sauce. The crab legs had been steamed to perfection, and they were jumbo, with an abundance of meat on the inside. We also had baked potatoes with butter and creamy sour cream, as well as some mixed vegetable medley of broccoli, cauliflower, and baby carrots with piping hot yeast rolls. The meal would not have been complete without a bottle of the finest wine, and Desmond did not disappoint. To accompany our meal, we had a chilled bottle of the hood's finest, Andre' champagne.He remembered my fond recollection of my first legal drink, in which I drank nearly a whole bottle by myself. Actually, I only recall about the first two sips and even that second sip is a little fuzzy. For dessert, we had peach cobbler with a thick homemade crust and vanilla ice cream.

Once we had both wolfed down what seemed to be a wheelbarrow full of crab legs and two heaping helpings of cobbler for dessert, I suggested that we take a walk on the beach to digest some of the food we had eaten. I went into the bathroom to brush my teeth, while he went to change his clothes. Then, we headed out into the moonlight.

The beach was empty with the exception of a few people that, like us, preferred the solitude and romance of the rhythmic motion of the tide and the lullaby of the seagulls as they glided over the moon. We walked along in a comfortable silence, and I tried to commit every detail of the previous events to memory. So far, the evening had gone over without a hitch, and I had begun to dread its ending.

"You know, I've always dreamed about making my home somewhere on the beach." I thought aloud. "Whenever my mom would take me to the beach during the summer, I was always sad to leave. It's like I have a connection with the ocean, somehow."

"So, why haven't you done anything about it?" he asked, thoughtfully.

"It's funny, but I never thought of it as an option. I guess in the back of my mind, I always thought that beach combing was only for white people. Like, if I made my home at the beach, people would think that I was lazy, or trying to shirk my responsibility as an adult. And being a single mom doesn't exactly afford you the luxury of just moving to the beach. Besides, the beach for black folks has always been strictly for vacationing only. You know, we don't like the water, as a general rule."

He laughed, and nodded in agreement. "That's true. Black people don't like to mess with a whole lot of water. Must be something we inherited from our ancestors that crossed the ocean on the slave ships."

"Well, I must have some white in me somewhere, because I love the water. The only thing I hate about the ocean is the critters that lurk around in it. I'm really squeamish about being touched by fish and that kind of stuff. Makes my hair stand on end to think about it." I shuddered at the thought.

Desmond laughed harder. "Are you serious? What's the big deal? It's only a little fish, it can't hurt you."

"I know. I'm not really worried about it biting me, or anything like that. I'm just afraid that it might touch me. The thought of having to touch a fish or anything else nasty like that makes me crazy. That's why I never wanted an aquarium in my house. I love to look at them, but I'm afraid that one will accidentally touch my hand while I'm cleaning the tank. Or it will flop around in the little net and jump on me by accident, and I'll have a heart attack and die."

The disgust on my face was plain, and he seemed to really enjoy my discomfort.

"Well, I guess you would do better in the Bahamas, or somewhere where the water is clear, so you could see them coming, huh?"

"Nope," I corrected. "If I saw them actually swimming around in there, I would probably never go near the water. I like the murky ocean water, here because I don't really worry about what I can't see."

He shook his head and wiped the tears of laughter from his eyes. "Poor thing."

I laughed, in spite of myself. I tried to act hard, but I was really a chicken at heart when it came to creatures and critters of any type.

"Well, why don't we walk out into the water, and see can we catch a couple of fishies with our toes, "he teased.

I was not amused. "Um, I don't think so."

"Come on, it'll be fun." He began to tug my hand, heading toward the surf. I resisted.

"Stop playing, Desmond. Why you wait until after we have this discussion to want to get in the water?" I broke free and ran down the beach, screaming.

Desmond ran in hot pursuit, laughing his head off. It wasn't long before I ran out of breath and he caught up with me and grabbed me from behind. We fell to the ground, laughing and gasping for breath. We were both, sadly out of shape.

It was at that moment that I felt totally relaxed. I didn't have a care in the world. And I was being accompanied by the loveliest man. I could have stayed that way forever.

It was almost eleven o'clock when we returned to the hotel.

Since it was so late when we returned, we decided against going to the mixer that the hotel clerk mentioned as I was checking in. We were covered with sand from the fall, and I knew that another shower would only put me in sleep mode. I was normally nodding on the couch at home by this time.

While I was in the bathroom washing the sand off my body, Desmond retrieved the rest of the wine from the refrigerator and had spooned up some more cobbler.

"You want me to fix you some more of this?" he asked when I emerged.

"I don't want another bowl by myself," I responded, "but can I have some of yours?"

He patted the cushion on the couch beside where he was sitting. I sank into the deep cushions, and opened wide, as Desmond shoveled a spoonful of cobbler toward my mouth.

The mood was set. The only light burning in the room besides the candles was the light from the television that was muted, while "Scandalous" by Prince ironically played softly on the stereo. The candles placed strategically around the room seemed to sway to the beat of the music. And there we sat, cuddled together on the couch, staring out of the window, watching the waves crash against the surf. It was the perfect ending to a perfect birthday.

During the course of my birthday celebration, I had put all the apprehension about being with Desmond in the back of my mind. Though it had turned out to meet and exceed any expectations I had, it was still somewhat different than I had expected. It was truly a romantic evening, yet as the evening progressed, romantic had not been transformed into stank. As I lay back on the couch being fed peach cobbler by Desmond, I did not feel cheap and slutty like I thought I would, sharing the company of a married man.

I just thought that we would eventually go upstairs to bed and have loud, backbreaking, spine tingling sex, and I would go home, feeling guilty at having fulfilled my dream. But we sat there engaging in light, friendly conversation, as we usually did on the phone; nothing more and nothing less.

After a couple more glasses of Andre', we began to nod out on each other. We were both lying back on the couch, with our feet propped up on the coffee table, and our heads were touching as we both succumbed to the sandman. The music had stopped playing, and the silence in the room caused me to wake. I yawned, and kissed Desmond on the top of his head. "I think it's way past our bed time," I said, stretching.

"Yep. I had actually got comfortable here on the sofa with you, though," he yawned. "And I don't feel like climbing those stairs."

"Well, c'mon. I'll carry you up." I opened my arms and motioned to him like I was going to try and pick him up. He laughed, and scooped me up like a sack of flour, and carried me up the staircase. I squealed in mock protest.

Once we were at the top of the steps, he stood me on the bed, and put his arms around my thighs. "So, how was your evening?" he asked.

"Perfect. I haven't had a birthday this good since I got those Public Enemy concert tickets when I turned fifteen."

"Wow. I must be the bomb to be compared with Chuck D," he said.

I replied, "Yeah, I would say that y'all are running pretty much neck in neck."

Shortly thereafter, I fell into a dreamless sleep, Desmond lying on his back, holding me in the safety of his arms.

Chapter 10

Sin on Some Level

The entrance of the sun, peeking out from the horizon, disturbed my sleep. The dawn's first light chased away the shadows that lurked in the corner of the loft. I reached out for Desmond, but he wasn't there. I didn't hear the shower running downstairs or the television. _That's funny_ , I thought to myself. Maybe he went out for a morning run or downstairs to the lobby for something. I lay there for while; just to rehash the previous evening's events, while they were fresh in my mind.

It had been the best time that I've had in a long time. For the first time in who knows when, someone had placed my needs and wants above all others. Desmond took the time to prepare my favorite foods, take me to my favorite place in the world, and make sure that everything was to my satisfaction. He picked out clothes that I adored; he booked the type of hotel suite that I had always dreamed of staying in. He provided the means for me to enjoy my birthday in a way that I would never been able to afford on my own. No expense was spared. Only my likes, wants, and needs were taken into consideration for this trip, and better still, I would go home with a clean conscience, because no intercourse had entered into the equation.

It was a revelation. Other than the affectionate hugs and pecks on the lips, there had been no seduction. There had been no long awaited, bed breaking, judgment clouding sex. I had not involved myself intimately with a married man. I had not alienated his poor wife's affection by sleeping with her husband. I had not placed myself in the 'payback zone,' as my mother calls it. I had not cheated on my boyfriend. I was going home with a clean conscience. I could finally exhale completely. Or could I?

If I had not done any of those things, then what was it exactly that I had done? I mean, it wasn't really cheating unless you had sex with the other person. And of that, I was innocent. But, I still spent the night with a man who was married to someone else. We had slept in the same bed as a man and wife would, we just had not consummated the relationship. Didn't that still classify as a sin on some level? Without thinking, I knew it did, but since I had not committed the ultimate disrespect to his marriage by screwing this woman's husband, I decided not to agonize over it, anymore. I had a beautiful birthday with nice gifts and a perfect gentleman to spend it with. Why ruin it?

Speaking of the perfect gentleman, I had become so lost in my thoughts, I didn't notice that Desmond had not emerged from downstairs, nor did I hear him come in or leave. Miffed, I rolled out of bed and went downstairs to investigate. He was not in the living room or the bathroom.Maybe he went down to the beach for a swim, I thought, as I approached the kitchen. There was a folded piece of paper propped up on the vase of fresh flowers on the kitchen table with my name on it. I opened and read:

Dear Ericka,

I had to go take care of some urgent business at work that couldn't wait until I got back. You were sleeping so peacefully, I didn't want to wake you with bad news, so I let you sleep. Thanks again for a wonderful evening. It was your birthday, but I received the wonderful gift of your company. My goal was to plan an evening that would allow us both to go home with pleasant memories and no regrets. I hope that your wish was granted to your complete satisfaction, and that I was satisfactory in showing you a good time and making you feel special. The suite belongs to you until checkout time tomorrow. Do with it what you will, and enjoy yourself. I have to get going, now, but I promise to call you later. Thanks again for a lovely evening, and I'm sorry to have left so abruptly. -Desmond

I looked down at my watch. It was about a quarter till eight. I stretched and yawned loudly trying to finish waking myself up. _"Well, I guess it's just me and you."_ I said to myself. I went into the bathroom and washed my face and patted my hair. According to the girl at the desk, room service was due to bring up breakfast at 8:30 and I didn't want to scare them away.

I drug myself out of the bathroom and back up the stairs to bed. I was going to enjoy that loft as much as I could before I left. I lay back down on the bed and looked out the window. It was a picturesque scene. The light of the sun sparkled like diamonds against the ocean waves. There were colorful sailboats already on the horizon, and little kids with sand buckets and shovels were already milling around the beach looking for seashells and building sand castles.

I missed Desmond, but I had to admit that our night together could not have had a more romantic ending. It was probably better that he did leave while I was asleep. As Juliet said, 'Parting is such sweet sorrow.' The way I figured, I had not had enough time with him, yet to get attached. 'He left just in time,' was my rationalization.

I heard a knock at the door.

"Room service!" was the call from outside.

Chapter 11

"Queen for a Day"

The room was kind of empty after Desmond left, and I actually contemplated checking out later that day, but I decided against it. There was nothing special waiting for me at home. Tomika wouldn't be home for another week or so, and Maurice wasn't due back until Monday.

I had retrieved the messages from my answering machine. I received several birthday wishes from family and friends, along with a few annoyed calls from Renee. I had not called her when I got to Wrightsville like I promised, and she was concerned about my safety, or so she said. I thought that she was more nosey than anything else and decided not to call her until I got home the next day. Maurice had called a couple of times expressing his remorse for missing my birthday. I opted not to call him back, either.

Room service brought up a breakfast fit for a queen. And since Desmond had crowned me 'queen for a day', I happily feasted on the delicious platter of bacon, scrambled eggs, French toast, grits, and hash browns. I washed it down with a cold glass of orange juice and fell into a deep, satisfied sleep for another hour or so. I was awakened by a knock at the door from maid service, wanting to clean the room.

I called out to her to give me ten more minutes, and went into the bathroom to dress and do my hair. I put on the tennis skirt outfit that Desmond bought, with my bathing suit on underneath in case I got the urge to go in the water while I was out. I pinned the top portion of my hair up in a neat bun, and curled the remaining hair in the back into a flip and allowed it to fall neatly to my shoulders. I gave myself a once over in the mirror, grabbed my keys and purse, and headed out into the crisp, morning air.

I had no clue where I was going. I hadn't really spent a lot of time at this particular beach in the past, so I wasn't sure about the happenings, if any, in the area. I started out in the back of the hotel and strolled aimlessly down the beach. It was a gorgeous day, and even though I was alone, I didn't feel the usual twinge of loneliness that I felt when I was all by myself. Today, I was totally at peace with the concept of singularity, and I even felt a slight spring in my step as I walked along with absolutely nothing on my mind. It was a free feeling that I never remembered feeling before. It was strangely liberating. I tilted my head back and let the ocean breeze kiss my face. I never wanted to leave.

I thought about the conversation that Desmond and I had the night before about my dream of living close to the beach. _What was it exactly that was stopping me from making my home here?_ I didn't have a degree yet, but I had plenty of marketable skills in the medical field that would allow me to land a job here. New Hanover County had a huge hospital. And the cost of living was not much different from the triangle area, which was already high rent district without the luxury of a neighborhood body of water. Tomika would love being able to be in walking distance from the beach. She loved the water as much as I did. And it was barely two hours from home, so I could come back as often as I liked. It was something that I always wanted to do, so why was I stalling?

I strained my brain to come up with an excuse. Well, the only thing I could come up with was the news report I had seen on television the previous week about the National Weather Center's prediction of a very active hurricane season for the next ten years. But, mostly everyone that lived on the eastern seaboard experienced a hurricane every now and then, and I was no exception. Hurricane Fran almost blew Raleigh off the map in 1996 and the floods of Hurricane Floyd almost washed us away a couple of years after that. And besides, I knew better than to be foolish enough to ignore evacuation warnings and do stupid stuff like have hurricane parties and get attached to material belongings.

The only other reason I could think of for not relocating was that I did not want to leave Maurice. Deep down, I really loved him and hoped that someday we would make a life together. But hell, I couldn't even get him to pass up hanging out with those thugs at the shop to go with me to the movies, much less follow me to live at the beach. As much as I worked at our relationship, I couldn't deny the fact that Maurice didn't seem as interested in holding up his end as I would have liked. And as much as I tried to make excuses for his lack of attentiveness to me, I was more apprehensive about us than I was happy, most of the time. He was partly responsible for me being where I was on my birthday, in the situation I was in, at that very moment.

Those two reasons aside, I had really been feeling the urge to move in favor of my situation. I was struggling to make ends meet in a dead end job, living in a city with an extremely high cost of living. And there was really nothing to do in Raleigh that didn't require money or a partner, neither of which I really had access to. Most of my girlfriends were married, getting married or playing house, so I never really had anyone to hang out with anymore. I had been in this rut for a long time, but hadn't really had a clue how to dig my way out.

I began to make plans I continued down the shoreline towards the pier. There was a university in the immediate area where I could attend and finish my degree. Tomika and I could both make new friends and become official beach bums. Maybe I would even open my own beachfront hotel or buy some condos to rent. The possibilities were endless. Maurice could decide whether or not he wanted to visit. I was becoming tired of playing the game by his rules and I still was not completely satisfied with our arrangement. I would never be able to control his actions, but I could control my own. I decided to pick up a local newspaper before I left, and search the Internet for a job and place to live the moment I returned home.

Taking control of my destiny felt good, so I returned to the hotel and jumped in my car to take a ride. As I rode along the winding road, I looked around at the place that I had decided to make my home. Sun bleached cottages sat handsomely in the sand. People frolicked barefoot, children carrying pails and shovels. I pictured myself sitting outside on my deck reading a book. I couldn't wait.

I continued to ride along the coast until I got back to the port city of Wilmington. The downtown area directly faced the riverfront with quaint neighboring condos, shops, restaurants. I got out and strolled along the riverfront watching people shop at the Farmers' Market as a man strummed an upbeat folk song on his guitar. People lined the river's edge to board a ferry that would take them to the other side to tour the historic battleship that sat sternly in the middle of the river, as if waiting to protect the city from an unknown menace. The Henrietta II cruise boat sat silent in the mid-morning sun, as if recuperating from a night of cavorting under moonlight from the previous evening. The toot-toot of the trolley horn reminded me of an old Mr. Rogers episode. Yeah, this spot would be perfect for Tomika and me. After a full day of exploring every nook and cranny of the old battleship, riding the trolley up and down the cobblestone streets, and tipping the guitar player for playing the extended remix version of that catchy tune so I could dance some more, I decided to pack it in and head back to my suite at Wrightsville.

Once there, I lugged my bags of souvenirs up to my room and set them on the floor outside the door while I fiddle around in my purse for my room key. I could hear the television playing before I entered the room. I didn't think I had left it on when I left. Afraid to go in, I peered around the door looking for signs of an intruder. To my surprise, Desmond lay on the couch, snoring lightly.

I stood in the door for a moment, watching the rise and fall of his chest as he slept contentedly. I shook my head, smiling to myself. He looked as though he had been asleep for a long time. I closed the door behind me, and set my bags down gently so I wouldn't wake him. He looked so peaceful lying there, like he was right where he was supposed to be. I walked over to the sofa and eased down beside him. He stirred, inched his body close enough to me to lay his head in my lap. He wrapped his arms around my waist, but did not wake up.

I was curious as to why he decided to drive all the way back here and how he was able to get away, but I didn't want to disturb him, or myself. It felt good to have him back. I sunk back into the sofa cushions and closed my eyes. I lightly stroked the side of his face while he continued to saw logs like a muffled buzz saw. I wished we could have stayed that way forever.

I would not have my wish, for after a few minutes I had a nagging urge to go to the bathroom. _Damn_ , I thought. _Now I have to get up_. Desmond was in hog heaven, as well. When I tried to get up, he latched on even tighter in his sleep, and I couldn't move. I struggled to pry loose his grip without waking him, but for every move I made, he had a counter. Finally, I gave up and tried to wake him.

I shook him, slightly. "Wake up, D.," I whispered in the ear that was facing me.

No response.

I tried again.

"Des, get up, babe." He sighed, stirred a bit, but didn't move.

I really had to go.

"Desmond!"

He jumped, and gave me a shocked look. "Huh? What?"

"Thanks." I said. I gave him a quick peck on the cheek. "Be right back."

I made a mad dash to the bathroom. When I returned, I flopped back down on the couch and asked, "What are you doing back here? I thought you had a pressing emergency."

He frowned. "Everything is a pressing emergency at GT. Once I got there, I found out that the emergency could have been fixed with the flip of a switch."

I laughed. "Having you around has made everyone else lazy."

"Yep, they've gotten spoiled."

"Sounds like someone else I know," I said, offhandedly as Desmond resumed his position in my lap.

He turned and kissed me on the stomach. "You got that right," he answered.

I shuddered with arousal. "Boy, you better quit before you start something we don't need to finish."

"Well, I had to make sure you were awake," he teased.

"Well, why didn't you call and tell me you were coming back?" I asked.

He smiled. "I wanted to surprise you, again, Christina."

I was puzzled. "Why you call me Christina?"

He hugged me close. "Because I'm your genie in a bottle."

I wasn't sure if I was cool with being Christina Aguilera, but I like the idea of Desmond being my genie in a bottle. We both cracked up.

It was still kind of early, so Desmond and I went back out for a swim. The water was cool and inviting on such a humid day. We laughed and frolicked around in the water like a couple of love struck teenagers. After our swim, we decided to explore the town together. We decided to take the evening dinner cruise on the Henrietta. It was a party cruise, so we had to hurry back to our hotel room to change into more appropriate attire so that we could make it in time. By the time we set sail it was dusk and the sun had begun its descent below the horizon. We had dinner on the deck of the boat and danced to a lively three-piece band that serenaded us on deck.

Once we returned from our mini cruise we headed back to the beach, stopping to dance at every place we heard music on the way. The wine we drank on the boat put us both in a gay and festive mood. Our hearts were light as we strolled down the midway of the beach carnival holding hands, eating cotton candy. However, once around the huge Ferris wheel that sat in the center of the carnival, both Desmond and I began to feel a little queasy. We stumbled back to our hotel suite after that, I holding on to Desmond, still giddy from the wine, the Ferris wheel ride, and the excitement of the day.

We went to bed around three a.m. that morning, but the bright morning sun woke us both very early. I awoke to a slight hangover, but was still in an exceptionally jovial mood. Unlike the previous morning, I woke up to find Desmond propped up on his elbow, watching me intently. When I opened my eyes, he smiled at me and kissed me on the forehead. We lay in bed and cuddled for about an hour until we both got hungry. We got out bed, dressed, and went downstairs to have breakfast in the hotel restaurant. From there, we headed back to the beach, where we lolly-gagged for the rest of the morning. About three-thirty that afternoon we said our good-byes, held a deep kiss for way too long (our first real kiss since we had been together), and reluctantly returned to whatever reality awaited us at home.

Chapter12

"Ghetto Heaven"

I was so engrossed in thought about the weekend's events that I don't even remember the drive home. I had just enjoyed the single best birthday that I had ever had with a fine, attentive, intelligent, financially stable man. He paid for a beautiful hotel suite, just for me. He bought birthday gifts, just for me. He opened doors, just for me. He gave me his undivided attention the entire time. And even though he had to leave, he went out of his way to come back. What more could I have possibly asked for? Well, I could have asked for him to show me some divorce papers, but I knew that was wishful thinking. The best part of it all though was that for everything he gave me, the only thing he asked for in return was that I enjoy all the attention that he lavished on me.

I sweat all the way to Wrightsville Beach dreading the moment that we both gave in to the desires of our flesh and rolled around in the bed screaming and moaning in the throes of passion. Yet, after all that time we spent together, we had amazingly been able to control our hormones and avoid the inevitable. And to tell the truth, it really was not hard to do. We did not have to avoid direct eye contact or sleep fully dressed to resist temptation. It was almost like best friends spending the weekend together out of town. He had been nothing short of the perfect gentleman.

I sighed heavily, a great weight having been lifted off my shoulders. I thought that I would be well on my way to hell, by now, after having betrayed my boyfriend and sleeping with someone else's husband. But we both woke up respecting one another in the morning, and I was free and clear of all wrongdoing. Right? I mean, I had not actually done the deed, but could I actually call myself innocent? I thought about Maurice down in Florida feeling bad for missing my birthday, when I had been cavorting the whole time with another man. Even if Desmond and I hadn't actually had sex, I knew that Maurice wouldn't have appreciated me sleeping in the same bed with another man, or even holding hands with him in public. That fact alone made the whole weekend wrong, no matter how clean we managed to keep it. Why was I doing this mess, anyway? I thought about the up-and-down yo-yo of a relationship that Maurice and I had struggled to maintain for the last six years...

I had originally met him at _Hot Wheelz_ , his car apparel and detail business that he owned near downtown. "The Shop," as Maurice and all the regulars referred to it, was the hangout for all the big ballers in Raleigh. Anyone that pushed a tricked out overpriced luxury vehicle hung out there. It was a place to be and to be seen. Natalie, my best friend from high school had just started dating Tarik, who is Maurice's best friend, and I went with her to the shop to meet Tarik.

In one of his songs, Tupac wondered if heaven had a ghetto. Well, if it does, there has to be a rim shop there called Hot Wheelz. And I was in ghetto heaven looking around at all the phat rides and cute guys dressed in the latest urban gear. It was sometime in August and a bunch of guys were standing outside in the parking lot admiring a new Ninja motorcycle that one of the fellas had purchased. All attention turned to us when we got out of the car wearing our booty shorts and tight tops.

A big dark-skinned guy stepped away from the bike and embraced Natalie, and they began to converse. While she was talking, I scanned the group of guys, as they stared inquisitively back at me. Not knowing what else to do, I spoke to the group, and they all nervously muttered a response. I thought it very odd that the so-called 'players' suddenly clammed up when they were in the presence of a fine woman. And as far as I was concerned, I wasn't even in their league.

Their attention was not taken for long because soon, they went back to their original preoccupation with the bike. I looked around the parking lot at all the nice cars. There was hunter green and a navy blue Lexus in the parking lot, as well as a black BMW, 740iL.There was also a brand new gold suburban and a white Ford F150 truck. Standing in the parking lot was like being in Car Max. All the cars had been carefully detailed and gleamed in the afternoon sunlight. They all had tinted windows and expensive tire rims, which was one of the items that Maurice carried in his shop.

In complete contrast to the expensive vehicles parked on the outside of the establishment, the shop, itself, was actually a very modest place on the empty corner of an old neighborhood shopping center. The name of the business along with the logo was painted in the window, and there were samples of the different wheels and car rims displayed randomly throughout the shop. There was no cash register that I could see, nor did there seem to be any type of order to the place. The counter was covered with books and magazines about car detailing and accessories. There were pictures on the walls of pimped out cars and scantily clad women. There were a couple of stools in front of the counter and a bubble gum machine that appeared to have some very old bubble gum in it.

It didn't really appear that much business was being conducted in the cluttered little space. It really just seemed to be a popular hang out where the guys sat around and talked about cars and told lies about women. It was like the young man's equivalent to the barbershop. Judging from all the beautiful cars and thugged out guys that hung out there, one might even mistake the shop for a drug front. But, I was really feeling the vibe of being seen in a popular hang out spot, so I stood patiently in the background while Natalie talked to Tarik.

As I stood there taking in everything around me, I couldn't help but notice one guy in particular that talked among the group. He was a lean 6'2, with a slightly muscular build. The first thing I noticed was his shoes. Sneakers have always been a great passion of mine and he had on the flyest pair of Nikes I had ever seen. He wore some long jean shorts and tee shirt with a logo on the front, which I can't recall. He had broad shoulders and beautiful, golden brown skin, like a cookie fresh out of the oven. He had well manicured hands with clean, healthy looking nails. He also wore a dazzling diamond pinkie ring and a thick Cuban link bracelet, as well as a baseball cap that matched his shirt.

His dress was thugged out, yet he had a meticulously neat appearance. I mean his pants weren't hanging off of his butt and no out of shape Afro or braids in serious need of tightening up. And he wasn't flashy like the other guys who were weighted down by thousands of dollars worth of bling-bling around their necks and in their ears. Hell, his ears weren't even pierced. Also I noticed that unlike the other guys, he wasn't loud and animated like he was trying to be seen. He was quiet actually, almost shy. And I've always been attracted to quiet men. I guess my outgoing personality wouldn't be able to take anyone that talks as much as I do.

Although his physical appearance and gentle mannerisms were working together to win me over, there was one thing in particular that held my attention to him, in addition to his shoes. The left side of his face was badly scarred, apparently from a terrible accident. The scar spanned almost the entire left side of his face, beginning just above his eye and ending just below his jaw line. It was hard to speculate how it might have happened, because it didn't appear to be a stab wound or any type of laceration. It looked like he may have been burned, yet it didn't look like any burn that I had ever seen.

It looked bad enough that it would cause a less tolerating person to look away, but it was absolutely fascinating to me. I realize that it was an odd attraction, but the more I looked at him, the more appealing he became. It's amazing how something that would appear to be so gruesome to one would be an attraction to another. Even with the scar, he was absolutely perfect.

I didn't want to stare, because I knew that he probably got tired of people gawking at him all the time. And I didn't want him to think that I was staring at him in disgust, when it was really with complete lust and appreciation. So, I just played it off like I was just looking around at everything and nothing at the same time while secretly taking sneak peaks at him.

After Natalie and Tarik had been talking for a few minutes, she realized that she had just left me standing there.

"Oh, I'm sorry for being rude," she apologized, "This is my friend, Ericka. Ericka, this is Tarik, and I don't know anyone else out here, but Maurice."

I extended my hand to Tarik. He was fine, too. No scar, but fine, just the same.

"What's up, E? It's nice to know you. Like Nat said, this is my man, Maurice." He nodded to the guy with the scar that I had been secretly admiring. "He owns this fine establishment. And this here is Will, Dre', Sonny, and Black." He pointed in the direction of each of the guys as he introduced them.

I shook Maurice's hand and nodded to the other three.

"Whose bike?" I asked.

Maurice spoke. "Mine. I just got it yesterday."

"That's tight," I said. "I don't know anyone else that has a motorcycle and I've been dying to take a ride. I know we don't know each other like that, but would you mind taking me sometime?"

The guys all looked at each other.

"What'd I say?" I asked, confused.

"You sounded like a white chick for a minute, girl," said Tarik, laughing. "We don't get too many polite chicks around here. Even ol' Nat here be around here about to get her chin checked for acting stank. Niggas just trying to figure you out, that's all."

Natalie's eyes got big. "Boy, you need to stop," she protested.

"Oh, my bad," I said, looking at Maurice. "Was I supposed to act like I made the initial down payment on the thing to get a ride?"

If I didn't know any better, I could have sworn he was blushing.

"Oh, naw... naw," Maurice stammered. "I'm saying... Yeah, I'll take you riding. That ain't no problem. We just used to dealing with shop rat attitude around here, that's all."

Will spoke up. "You got that shit right. Some of these girls roll up in here acting like they running things. You know, like they doing us a favor by coming up in here showing their ass. You know what I'm saying? No disrespect, Queen, but we ain't used to girls coming around here acting like they got some sense, so we don't know how to act when we hear a woman say 'please.'"

"Hey! Watch your mouth!" Nat chimed in. "Y'all ain't no better sometimes, either, thinking you God's gift because you drive a Lexus. These girls act like that because y'all act like that and they think that's what y'all want. Y'all like them gangster girls."

Maurice spoke up.

"Well, I don't like them gangster. I like them nice and polite, like me." He seemed to be warming up to me.

Will spoke again.

"I like them like that, too, man, so you better take her on in the shop and give her your card so she can call when she ready to ride."

I looked from Will to Maurice to see how Maurice would respond. I could tell that he wasn't cool with being put on the spot, but at the same time he wanted to do exactly what Will had suggested. I jumped to Maurice's defense.

"Ease up, Big Willie. Let your boy talk for himself. Maurice, is it okay if we went inside the shop and talked for a minute?"

Maurice maintained his composure. "Yeah. Why don't you step into my office?"

As we were walking off, I heard Will call behind us, "You better had taken her in there because I was getting ready to give her my card!"

I leaned into him and whispered, "If he had, I wouldn't have taken it."

We both laughed and went into the shop.

Once inside and out of the scrutiny of the rest of the group, I gently probed him for information.

"You were awful quick to consent to giving me a ride. Won't your girlfriend have something to say about that?" I asked slyly. " I would hate for my phone number to fall into the wrong hands."

He smiled. Nice teeth. "Nah, it ain't nothing like that."

I wasn't satisfied, so I pressed further.

"And I don't have to worry about anybody trying to run us off the road or shoot me off the back of your bike? I'm not trying to be the subject some crazy woman's jealous rampage."

I said it in a teasing manner, but I was actually dead serious. It was impossible to believe that he didn't have at least one woman stashed somewhere in the area. He was handsome and appeared to be somewhat successful, though you couldn't tell by looking around his disheveled place of business.

"No wife, girlfriend, or baby mama drama?" I asked, directly.

"Nope, no wife, no girlfriend, and no kids. I mean, I got a friend, but you know, we're just friends."

Men killed me with that 'I got a friend' crap. It was like an insurance policy that covers them being able to sleep with everybody without being able to have an infidelity charge brought against them. You're not cheating if you're not actually committed to someone. I normally would've cut the conversation short after hearing such crap, but my attraction to him and that motorcycle wouldn't allow me to walk away. So, instead I shrugged it off and took the business card like a champ, and wrote down my number on the back of another card.

"So since you're single, is it possible that I might be able to get a date sometime in addition to the ride on the motorcycle?" I asked, coyly.

He smiled, again. "Sure. We can go on a date on the motorcycle, if you want to."

I laughed.

"I'd like that. I hope to be hearing from you soon."

"You'll be hearing from me tonight."

Maurice held the door for me, and as I exited the shop I gave a smug look to Natalie and Tarik, who were grinning from ear to ear.

As we drove off, Natalie was like, "You go, girl. Maurice has it going on. That was his blue beamer in the parking lot. He is paid."

"That's not what attracted me. I didn't even know that it was his shop until Tarik introduced us. And besides, he was good looking and he had a tight body."

I was never the type of woman to be concerned with money and cars. Those types of men were mostly conceited and to be with a man like that, you had to be a model type chick that he can parade around like a new car or a new piece of jewelry. And I'm not into clothes and make-up like many women. I'm really just a plain Jane that cleans up very nicely. And you had to be a regular old Joe to appreciate a plain Jane.

She agreed. "Yeah, even with his face messed up and all, he still looks good."

I thought about that for a minute. Working in the hospital, I had seen a lot of deformed and disfigured people and many people looked away from them or avoided making eye contact. And there were still others that made fun of other people's handicaps and shortcomings either openly or discreetly. I wondered how it would be to go out in public with him. Would we get a negative reaction? Would people stare at us? Or did other women see his scar as an attraction like I did? He probably got more play than all those other guys put together. I bet that he was the biggest dog on the planet. I wondered if he had always had the scar, and if he ever got teased about it. The guys at the shop didn't seem to make a big deal out of it, but then again, guys were not as vain about appearance as females.

I asked Natalie, "What happened to him?"

"I'm not sure," she answered. "I heard he was hit by a car or something like that when he was little. It looks like he might have got drug or something."

"Damn. It looked like it must have hurt."

"Yep. You're a good one, because I don't think I could look at him like that on a regular. He's cute and all, but that face would start to get to me after a while."

She didn't say it mean, she was honest, but I still thought that it was a messed up thing to say. But, I didn't say so.

Instead I said, "Well, I've seen worse. And it doesn't look that bad. I think it gives his face a lot of character. It gives him a look of mystery. You know, kind of like a battle scar from his past days in the thug life, or something. He looks like he might be a thug, but when you talk to him you can tell he's soft as cotton on the inside."

Women always cheat themselves out of good men, often because they get too preoccupied with the physical, when the way a man looks has nothing to do with the type of person he is. What they don't realize is that even the most handsome man's looks can be wiped away in an instant by an accident, a bullet, or anything.

I asked Natalie, "Well, what would you do if Tarik got caught in the face by a bullet and lived. You know that his face would be jacked up, but would you not want him, anymore because of it?"

She thought for a minute.

"Well, yeah I would still be with him because I loved him. Changing his face on the outside doesn't stop him from being Tarik on the inside, you know."

"Yeah, I know. But think about what you said about Maurice. Are you saying that you wouldn't have got with Tarik if his face was messed up like Maurice's?"

"Well, yeah. It's different because I already know Tarik."

"So, are you saying that people like Maurice are not worth getting to know because his face is jacked up?"

She was getting flustered.

"Maurice is different because he still looks good, even though part of his face is messed up."

She wasn't making a bit of sense and we both knew it.

"So, what you're saying is that Maurice is an exception because only half of his face is jacked up and the other half is still fine."

She became indignant. "No, that's not what I'm saying at all! I just meant...I don't know what I meant. I swear, Ericka, you should have gone to law school. You have an answer for everything; or at least a question."

We both laughed.

Then she posed a question to me.

"Well, be honest. Would you have given Maurice any play if his whole face was messed up?"

I thought about it for a minute. "Honestly, I couldn't say for sure. It would depend on how bad it looked. I mean, let's keep it real. I don't do charity cases, and even though I might be a little lenient in the looks department, you still have to have some, however limited they might be."

"So, that would make you just as superficial as the rest of us, huh?" she laughed.

"Nope. You said it yourself. Maurice is cute, but his face still looks pretty bad on that side, no matter how cute he is. And you admitted that you wouldn't have talked to him. Though, I'm not claiming to be self-righteous by a long shot, you have to admit that I can look over flaws that other women can't."

"That's true. Remember that guy you dated that time that only had one leg? You are a regular equal opportunity employer."

We both cracked up at that.

"Girl, that boy could do things with me that other men couldn't do," I chuckled.

"Like what?" she wanted to know.

"Girl, he had mad upper body strength. That boy would bench press me like free weights at Gold's Gym."

Natalie was in tears.

"For real?"

"Yep. He was the bomb in bed."

Chapter 13

"Considered Her a Threat"

Maurice and I had officially been a couple for almost two years. We have actually been together for six, but prior to having his son with another woman, Maurice would have gouged out his own eye before he committed himself to me or anyone else, for that matter. He had been married before, and had a fear of commitment that was rooted deeper in him than in any other man I had ever met.

His first wife, Toni was a strong Christian woman with strong Christian values. She catered to his every whim. She had dinner ready when he came home from work, she cleaned like a mad woman, and she performed her wifely duties without so much as a low murmur. _Then what was the problem?_ I asked myself. Maurice swears to this day that he can't answer that question, but I already have. She was boring. He just doesn't want to say that about her because it wouldn't be right to tarnish the memory of a perfect wife. He had already done enough by divorcing her and destroying her faith in everything that she had held sacred.

According to him, it was absolutely nothing that she did. It was all his fault. They had a beautiful home, beautiful cars; seemingly a perfect life. He had a great career as an electronic engineer. After about a year, he decided that he didn't want to answer to anyone. So, he didn't. He stopped going home from work, and things began to take a downward spiral after that. To hear him tell it, their split was amicable. And the way he describes Toni, she would never have stuck up for herself, anyway, no matter what he did to her.

They had no children together, and even though I assume that they still communicate on some level, I've never met her. She's never even so much as called the house while I was there. It probably wouldn't matter if she did. I've never considered her to be a threat.

However, I can't say the same about Cassandra, his son's mother. Cassandra and Maurice had been seeing each around the time that he and I met. Since they had already broken up when we met, I originally thought that she was out of the picture, like Toni. He was supposed to be single. Even though we dated off and on for over a year he kept telling me that he wasn't ready to be in a relationship, so we basically remained friends for the first couple of years.

Even after we became intimate partners, Maurice remained cautious about the boyfriend-girlfriend issue. I didn't make too much of an issue about it because I felt like I was getting all the perks that came with the relationship. I mean, we spent time together. It wasn't as much as I would have liked, but he did own his own business. I had free run of the shop. I came and went as I pleased. And I figured that if there were someone else, I would have eventually run into them there. And most importantly, all the shop regulars thought as me as Maurice's girl. Since Maurice was somewhat of a ghetto superstar, I became a recognizable figure in the hood once we started dating. Everywhere that I went, I was always running into one of his regular customers. And they respectfully acknowledged me as Reese's girl. If a guy tried to push up, there was always someone there to correct him if he got out of line with Reese's woman. To top it off, Maurice would even tell the guys in the shop that I was off-limits, so even if I was interested in someone else, chances are they knew Maurice.

Anyway, Maurice and I continued on this path to nowhere off and on for the next three years. Even still, I was never able to get Maurice to admit that we were a couple. I think he believed that by admitting it, he would somehow commit himself to a lifetime of bondage and misery. How can you not be in a relationship, when you have all the components of the relationship? It was maddening. About six months into the fourth year, we were lying in bed at his house, and I noticed a picture of him and a gorgeous baby boy that looked a lot like him. I didn't think much of it, because Maurice is the youngest of ten and has a small army of nieces and nephews who are old enough to have kids of their own. They all look exactly alike, and I just thought this baby to be another great-nephew.

"Ooh, who's pretty baby?" I cooed.

"Mine," he answered proudly. "Looks just like me, huh?"

I felt like everyone was laughing and I was the only one who didn't get the joke. I couldn't believe what I had just heard.

"What do you mean 'yours'"? I demanded. "I don't remember being pregnant!"

Maurice seemed confused. "You know me and Cassandra had a baby. I told you that a long time ago."

I could feel myself losing control. "Cassandra? You mean your ex-girlfriend, Cassandra? You talking about left you cold to kick it with a white boy, Cassandra? Where did she come from? I thought she was married!"

"Man, it's a long story. It was just something that happened one night when they was having some problems. When she called me over there, I didn't go over there to sleep with her. It just happened."

I was getting more pissed off by the second. "Oh, nigga, I see. No wonder you been dragging your damn feet about getting serious. You too busy giving away all the serious dick to them other chicks, huh?"

"E. baby, why you tripping? You act like you hearing this for the first time."

I stared at him in disbelief.

"You know, one of us is stupid as hell, Maurice Council. And I know damn well it ain't me."

Maurice sat there silent, like his lips had suddenly been erased from his face.

"Oh, so you don't have nothing to say for yourself, huh?" I asked, genuinely livid at this point.

Maurice was pretty easy going, so I knew that he wasn't going to argue with me for any length of time. But I didn't know that he would say something that cruel just to shut me up. His next words pierced my ego like a hot knife.

"You know what, Ericka? I'm not trying to be funny, but I'm a single man. I was a single man when my son was conceived. I ain't got to explain a damn thing to you, or anybody else."

I immediately shut up. He was absolutely right. Even though I had become very comfortable with our arrangement and was pretty much okay with the way things were, technically I couldn't be mad. He was not my man. I had not handled my business like a woman and asked for anything more than I was already getting. Instead, I settled for less and took what was left over. There was nothing I could do but sit there and fight back the angry tears that threatened to slide down my face.

"Ericka?"

I turned my back on him.

"Come on, E, baby, look at me. I didn't mean it like that, okay. I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said that. Please baby."

I refused to speak. I got up, and strode into the bathroom, and shut the door behind me. Since I already looked like a fool, there was no use in looking like a simp, too, so I wept silent tears into a towel I shoved into my face while I sat on the toilet.I felt so silly sitting there, the tears stopped almost as soon as they started.

I splashed water on my face to wash away the evidence of tears and to regain my composure. I wanted to run out of the house and never come back, but what was I going to leave for? There was no reason to be mad. My pride was just hurt because I didn't have sense enough to look out for what was best for me.

I took a deep breath, and came out of the bathroom. He had been sitting on the edge of the bed looking anxiously at the door. I walked past him and went down the hallway into the living room. He called after me.

"E, where you going?"

I didn't even turn around. "I'm not going anywhere. I just want to be by myself for a few. I'll be in the living room."

His living room was my favorite place to be in the house. It was very spacious and he had created a space for solitude in one corner of the room. It was in the far corner facing the sliding glass door that led onto his patio. There was a soft over stuffed chair with a leopard print coverlet thrown over the back. Behind it was a large potted tree that bent over the chair, like a large shade tree outside. Beside it were a magazine rack and a lamp that stood just over the arm of the chair. It was all arranged neatly in the corner away from everything else in the room, like a mini getaway spot in the house. I fell in love with that area of the apartment, and made it my little spot when I was there. I flopped down in the chair and pouted.

This was not how things were supposed to have happened. He was supposed to fall for me, and we were supposed to be planning a wedding by now. And how could she have gotten pregnant by him? Maurice was always so careful when it came to our sex life. I couldn't imagine him being frivolous about having unprotected sex. It was insulting in a twisted way that he would get so caught up with her that she may have been good enough in bed to make him forget about putting on a condom. What was so good about her that made him throw caution to the wind?

Now I knew why I received so many late night visits. He was probably just leaving her house when he was on his way to mine. I guess that also explained why I had not gotten the commitment, yet. He apparently had given that to her, too. Damn both of them! From that moment on, I decided never to be silent and deny myself of anything else again.

My thoughts were interrupted by a quiet voice coming from the hallway. It was dark in the house, except for the television light from the other end of the apartment, but I could see a faint silhouette of Maurice peeking around the corner.

"Babe, you coming back to bed?" he asked, pitifully.

Well, at least he was groveling a little bit.

"I don't know. Why?" I asked, haughtily.

"You don't need to sleep out here in that chair. You neck is gonna be hurting tomorrow."

"So what you saying, Maurice? You care about me, now?" I fired at him.

"I never said I didn't care about you, E. Don't be like that. I don't want to lose you over no bull jive, OK? And I don't want you to be mad at me or take it out on my son. All I want is for you to be in me and my son's life. Why don't you come on back in here and let's work things out. Please?"

He was right. But I wasn't mad at his son. I wasn't even mad at Cassandra. I was mad at his black ass for the underhanded way that he handled the situation between us. I knew that I was just as much at fault for not being more adamant about what I wanted, but knowing that didn't make it hurt any less. I just wanted him to understand how I felt. I softened a bit.

"What's his name, Reese Jr.? He looks so much like you, no other name would really fit him," I smiled a little.

He grinned proudly, in spite of himself. "Nah. I wish. His mom made it clear that she wasn't going for that 'junior' stuff. He's Christopher Maurice."

Christopher. That was cute, and unoriginal.

"How old is little Reese?"

"Almost six months."

I had been in the dark about this little piece of information for almost six months. And he was sitting up here trying to convince me that he told me about this already. I know that I can be forgetful at times, but I think I would have remembered if the man I had been seeing for the last three years had told me that he had a baby by another woman. I'm not that much in denial.

"He's beautiful," I said, sincerely. "He looks just like you made him all by yourself. Like his mother didn't even have a part at all." If only I could be so lucky.

And he did. Christopher was the spitting image of his father. The only thing he lacked was the scar that Maurice had on his face. I couldn't help but be a little jealous that he was not mine.

Maurice laughed. "That's exactly what my mom said." His mom, the woman that I never had the pleasure to meet.

"You have anymore pictures around here of him?" I asked, trying to ease the tension.

"You know I got plenty," he said, taking my cue. "But they're in my room. I'll show them to you, if you come back with me." He held out his hand, expectantly.

I took it, and followed him down the hallway.

Needless to say, that little incident sparked a chain of events that promptly led to the carat and a half total weight promise ring that I wear on my finger, and his spare key to the BMW that I wear around my neck. Believe me when I tell you that I earned it.

Long gone are the days when men follow women around like faithful puppies, spending all their money on them, doing everything in their power to show you how much they are willing to love and take care of you. Gone are the days when women are made to feel special and actually get taken out to dinner a few times before the issue of booty comes up. Men no longer seem interested in developing close relationships with women, much less starting a family. They seem to be very comfortable with lying around and letting us do all the work, whether it's going to work and paying the bills, or courting them and chasing them around like they used to do us.

Maurice belongs to the new generation of men that do just enough to keep a desperate woman around. And unfortunately, that's exactly what I've been for the last six years, now; desperate. Believe me when I tell you, desperation is an ugly, ugly thing. He really had no desire to take me anywhere, or spend any real time with me, before. He just wanted me to be around when it was convenient for him. When I wanted to go out, I had to threaten to withhold sex from him, or threaten to go out with someone else. All he wanted to do was kick it at the shop all hours of the night and shoot dice with the boys, or listen to their endless lies about their imaginary women. He usually averaged showing up at my house about midnight one night a week, long after the shop had closed for the day.

Most of the time, I had no clue why he even bothered to keep me around in the first place. It wasn't the sex. Even though it was marvelous, and we had no problems in the bedroom, sex was amazingly not a top priority in our relationship. Maurice and I spent most of our time talking, which was a trip because he was not a big talker by nature. We talked about everything all the time, his plans for the shop, our kids, cars, motorcycles, sports, and relationships. Many mornings I overslept while he was there from staying awake talking all night. We really did enjoy each other's company. But spending time together doing anything else during reasonable hours was another story.

It was absolutely maddening. If I made plans, most of the time he canceled at the last minute, or he ran at least two hours late. To secure my plans, I always had to call him at the last minute, and ask him what he was doing first before I told him what I wanted to do that evening. That way, if he had already said that he didn't have plans, he couldn't come back with an excuse not to go out with me. And when I wanted to go to the movies with him, I would have to call him an hour prior and have him meet me at the movie theater. I wonder if my mom and her girlfriends had to go through all kinds of drama to hook their men.

But, with all that he didn't do socially, he made up for in thoughtful gestures. Maurice always made sure that I had everything I needed. He usually called from the car on his way to my house to see if I needed anything picked up from the store, or if I wanted anything to eat from a restaurant. He kept the cabinets stocked with junk food for Tomika, and left lunch money on her dresser before he left in the morning.

He kept my tank filled with gas because he didn't think women should have to pump gas. And he kept the maintenance up on my vehicle. Since he was in the car detail business, he had hook-ups all over town for every aspect of my vehicle. I never had to pay for tires, brakes, or any other maintenance for the Raider. He used my vehicle as free advertisement, always making sure that it had the latest style of rims and wheels. He changed them about twice a year. And he even washed and waxed it for me. But I usually had to beg for that.

He bought Tomika clothes and shoes like she was his child. I've never been big on material stuff, but I could always count on a beautiful, thoughtful gift for birthday, Christmas, and sometimes even our anniversary. Maurice had impeccable taste in everything. I loved sneakers more than anything else, so he usually bought us new shoes whenever he bought some for himself.

With all that he did for us, I simply could not understand what the big deal was about us being in a relationship. Hell, as much as he did around the house, we were practically married, anyway. I rationalized that he wouldn't do things for me if he really didn't care about me to some degree. So, I was basically selling myself out to that preconceived notion that as long as he kept up with the gifts and thoughtful little things he did, everything else would eventually take care of itself.

It drove my girlfriends crazy that Maurice and I rarely went anywhere together. They accused me of being soft on him, and setting him up to be with someone else. Renee even speculated that he and Toni might still be secretly married, or that he was splitting his time between Cassandra and me. But something in my mind kept telling me to hang in there with him. Apparently patience really is a virtue, because while everyone else's relationship seemed to be falling apart around them, mine was really just beginning to take bloom. And since we had actually been together for four years before we officially became 'an item,' the relationship is not really new. Oddly enough, even with all this blooming going on in our relationship, deep down I still hungered for a stronger attachment with Maurice.

Chapter 14

"You Don't Know, Do You?"

It was pitch black outside, so I couldn't see a thing as I knelt down on the ground to unzip my sleeping bag. The flannel sheet I layered it with this morning made it nice and cozy to slide into as I settled in after finishing a long, grueling guard duty shift. 'Dang, it's tight in here,' I thought, struggling to re-zip my bag. That sheet I put in here must have been thicker than I thought.

My scream was muffled by the generator that roared outside of my tent. I felt someone or something reach across me attempting to finish zipping up my sleeping bag. Panic-stricken, I desperately scrounged around in the dark for my rifle, which I had leaned against my pack on the ground beside my makeshift bed. But the only thing I could come up with was my flashlight. Frantically, I snatched it on to see who or what had decided to share my bed tonight. I couldn't afford to miss by swinging at it in the dark.

Trembling, I slowly raised the flashlight toward the interloper, terrified of what I was about to unveil. A buffed male figure took shape in the light. I gasped.

"At ease, soldier," he whispered seductively.

I sighed heavily with relief.

"Desmond, you scared the hell out of me! How did you get in here?"

"I am wherever you will me to be, my love."

He reached around me again and in one smooth motion, zipped the bag over both our heads.

"No wonder this thing felt so small," I giggled. "I thought I had gained some weight."

"Your sheet made it warm, but I'm here to make it cozy. C'mere, let's start a fire."

Desmond reached down to help me unbutton my pants. As he did, my hand accidentally brushed against a very impatient erection.

"My, aren't we standing tall this evening?" I asked, smiling broadly.

"Yep." He nodded downward. "He is standing tall, and you are looking good."

I moaned with pleasure as he began to nuzzle my neck.

'Good thing that generator is so loud,' I thought...

I was jolted awake by the shrill ring of the telephone.

"Hello?" I mumbled, sleepily.

"You finally decided to come home, I see." The voice on the other end was dripping with sarcasm. "Well, Happy Birthday to _you._ "

It was Maurice and he sounded pissed. _Damn_. I wasn't expecting him home until tomorrow night. I had completely forgotten about him until now. I tried to play it off.

"Hey, baby boy. Where you at?"

"I just left the shop on my way back to your house for about the tenth time since yesterday."

_Uh-oh_.

"I thought you weren't coming home until tomorrow, sometime."

"I wasn't, but I felt bad about canceling your birthday plans at the last minute, so I called you back to ask you if you wanted to come down to Florida with me and celebrate, but I couldn't get in touch with you. You weren't answering the phone at home, or the cell phone. I figured you were mad at me, so I came home."

Guilt loomed over my head like a dark cloud. Since when did he care whether or not I was mad with him? If I had sat home all weekend, he would not have shown his face in Raleigh until late tomorrow. He probably felt bad that he had been taking me for granted and the only reason he was back in town was to soothe his own guilt. It was either that, or he was afraid that I might have found someone else to spend my birthday with. (He was still waiting for me to get back at him for having a baby with Cassandra, like I'm some kind of a petty chick or something.) Either way, he was still not off the hook.

"I wasn't mad. I just found something else to do."

"Oh, yeah? Like what?" he asked, cautiously.

"I ended up at the beach, anyway. I had intended to come back yesterday, but what for? I was only going to end up being bored by myself since everybody left me. So, I stayed the whole weekend. No sense moping around here by myself."

That shifted some of the guilt back on him.

Well, who did you go to the beach with?" he wanted to know.

_You don't know, do you?_ "Nobody," I lied. "I kicked it by myself, as per usual."

"Well, why weren't you answering the phone? I could have come up there or something. You didn't even have your cell on. You must not have wanted to be found," he said, suspiciously.

"What was I going to have the phone on for? You were kicking it in Florida and Tomika was kicking it in Indiana. Hell, it seemed like everyone else had plans to be away from me on my birthday. And I'm not mad, I'm just saying. One monkey don't stop no show!"

"Sorry, babe. You know I didn't want to be away from you on your birthday. But I had to track down that last shipment. That was a ten thousand-dollar order. Sonny would have been trying to put me out of business if I didn't get those new spinners for his Escalade in time enough for the Essence Music Fest. You know how that nigga love to floss.

Besides, if I hadn't tracked the order down, I wouldn't have been able to get your present. You know it's been kind of tight around the way, lately."

He was right. Tire rims were big business in his shop, and people really didn't start buying those until the weather started to warm up. Brand new chrome rims were almost sure to be scratched up and dirty from ice and salt brine while driving in bad weather during winter months. And since more people stayed in out of the cold, chances are nobody would really notice your new 'twenties' in January as opposed to May or June when it's hot and people are hanging out at the carwash. Guys would buy new cars and immediately hook them up, replacing the factory tires and rims with the hottest chrome dipped joints on the market and brand new tires, since the rims usually ended up being too big to put the original tires back on. Or sometimes they would take the rims on their current vehicle to give the car a more stylish look. Guys can be as meticulous about cars as females can be about their appearance. They could be almost as sickening as we could.

"It's all good," I said, squashing the subject. "So, where're you on your way to, now?"

"I'm coming over to see you, baby girl. Why, what's up?"

"Nothing. I just asked. But, I guess that means I have to get up now, huh?"

"Yep, because we going for a ride when I get there."

I perked up a little. I was like a little kid when it came to going somewhere with Maurice. The times we went out were few and far between, but going with him was always an adventure because I got to see into a world that I rarely got to visit. It was a world of players and so-called shot callers. I thought that many of his partners were a bunch of wannabes, but it was intriguing to watch them throw money around like they had a never-ending supply. The guys that he hung around were usually sporting the latest Sean John, Roc-a-wear, or Phat Farm gear. They wore plenty of bling-bling in their ears and around their necks. And they all had the tightest rides. They were so flashy that even when they traveled together as a group, they each had to drive their own car, even though most of them drove luxury sedans or SUV's big enough to hold at least five people. Going places with the boys was like rolling with the Cash Money Millionaires. But mysteriously, no one seemed to have a job because they spent most of their time with Maurice, hanging out at the shop. I never asked questions though because it was none of my business. And besides, why ask questions when you already know the answer?

"Where're we going?" I asked.

"You'll see," he said. I'll be there in five minutes."

I hung up the phone and drug myself out of bed. I had a nice little nap after I got home but I felt like lying back down. And I certainly didn't feel like going anywhere else right then. But, if Maurice asked me to go somewhere, I learned a long time ago to put your shoes on and not ask any questions. If you ask questions, you ran the risk of not being asked to go anywhere else.

I had no clue what to put on since I had no clue where we were going. So, I slid back into the shorts I wore home from the beach and put on my sneakers. Knowing him, we wouldn't be going anywhere fancy, anyway.

As I was tying my shoe, I heard the doorknob turn. I had given Maurice a key a while back, but for the most part, he usually still rang the doorbell unless he was coming over late at night. He started doing that after I ran into him in the hallway one night on my way back from the bathroom. He almost gave me a heart attack.

"Where you at, Mama?" he called from the door.

"In my room," I called back.

Maurice appeared in the room looking good in an orange and blue Sean John tee shirt, knee length jean shorts, and an orange baseball cap. My baby looks so good in orange. He came up behind me as I stood in the mirror, putting my hair in a ponytail. He squeezed me tight around the waist and covered my eyes with his hands.

"Boy, how you get in here? I told you not to come right now, because my man was on his way over. You gone get shot," I teased him.

He chuckled. "Yeah, right. I ain't worried about that dude. I got something for him if he comes up in here while I'm in here."

I turned around to face him with a mock look of surprise. "Oops. My bad, baby. I didn't know it was you."

"Whatever, man," he laughed.

"I wasn't sure what to put on, so I didn't change my clothes," I told him.

"You straight just like you are, but you might wanna put on some jeans. It's getting a little chilly out there," he offered.

"Some jeans? Where we going, bike riding?"

"Something like that."

I changed my clothes, so if we happened to fall the jeans would at least catch the pavement before the skin on my legs. I put on my favorite pair and followed Maurice outside.

Once outside, I noticed that there were two bikes on the back of his truck parked in my driveway. I recognized one of them to be his, but I had never seen the other one before. It looked to be brand new. It was a brand new Ninja red with metallic gold flecks in the paint.

"That other bike is tighter than yours, babe. Where'd it come from? Is somebody putting it in the shop to sell?" I said, admiringly.

"Oh, you like that, huh?" he asked, with a sneaky look on his face.

"Hell to the yeah! I'd ride that bad boy till the wheels fall off," I said, not taking my eyes off the bike.

Maurice could hardly contain himself. "Happy Birthday to you..." he began to sing.

I stared at him in disbelief. "Why are you playin'?" I asked.

"This is you, Ma," he confirmed.

"For real?" I leaped into his arms and began to scream. I couldn't believe it. My baby had bought me a motorcycle for my birthday. I had always dreamed of having one, but didn't think I would have one until Tomika had grown up and moved out.

I scurried into the back of Maurice's truck to get a closer look. It was beautiful.

Maurice walked over to the side of truck, enjoying watching my excitement over my gift.

"Oh, thank you, baby! Thank you so much! I love you!" I leaped off the back of the truck into his arms again, and began showering him with kisses. He relished in his newfound affection.

"You're welcome, love. Sorry it's so late. I bought it from my boy in Atlanta, but he wasn't able to bring it until Monday. So, I met him in South Carolina so I could get it to you on time. I know you like them with a little kick, so I got you this Ninja hoping that you won't kill yourself."

"Boy, this is more than I ever hoped for, right here." I squeezed him again. "It could have been a Radio Flyer wagon, as long as it was from you."

He was blushing behind his shades. One of the things that attracted me to him from the very beginning was his humble spirit and his modesty. Maurice had really outdone himself this time, but he acted as though he had just picked me a dandelion.

Where did all this come from all of a sudden? Was it possible that he knew where I had been the whole weekend? Nah. If he did, I would've gotten a bullet in my ass for my birthday instead of a motorcycle. I wasn't expecting any of this, and now I felt really bad about what I had done.

"So, you didn't go down to Florida to track down no missing shipment, huh?" I asked.

"Naw, girl. Sonny's cheap behind ain't gonna spend ten thousand dollars on nothing, especially in my shop. That fool will argue over the price of an air freshener to hang in the dash of his car."

I laughed. "That's true."

"Kenny was actually supposed to bring me the bike, but he called me and told me that something came up and he wasn't going to be able to come on Friday like we planned. And I wanted you to have it on your birthday, so I lied to get out of our plans so I could go to South Carolina Thursday night and have it on your doorstep when you got home from work Friday. But you didn't come home."

I wondered if he could see the word 'guilty' written in cursive repeatedly all over my face.

"Dang, boo. If I had known that, I would've just stayed home for my birthday."

"I know, but if I had told you, it wouldn't have been a surprise. But, you got it, now, and I'm glad you like it. And you better stop kissing me like that before I pick you up, take you back in the house and make you thank me now instead of later."

I wiped the lipstick off his mouth with my thumb and took a step back.

"So, you ready to ride, or you gonna stand there and look at it on the back of my truck?" he asked.

"Hell, naw! I'm ready to go!" I answered, exuberantly.

I had gotten my motorcycle's license last year after Maurice got tired of me complaining about him never having time to ride me around. In an effort to shut me up, he offered to let me ride myself around on his bike as much as I wanted, providing I take the two-day course at the DMV and get a license. The following week I signed up and successfully took the class. It was easy, considering that I'm the biggest tomboy on the planet and I've always ridden mopeds, dirt bikes, and the like. He was shocked when I burst through the shop door with diploma and license and reluctantly relinquished his key. That had been over a year ago, and up till now Tomika and I rode his bike more than he did.

Maurice unhitched the motorcycle and lowered it gingerly to the ground. I could hardly contain myself as I put on the black helmet I found in the passenger seat of the truck.

I hopped on my new toy and took off like a shot up the street to the top of my street. I made a right turn and tooled around the block to get the feel of my new ride. The engine growled like a ferocious tiger as I gunned it out on the open road.

I couldn't believe he had actually bought me a motorcycle as a birthday present. I probably had mentioned that I wanted one, but with all the debt that I was trying to pay off so I could buy a house, the idea was just too farfetched. I never expected to actually be able to afford one for a while. And by then, I probably wouldn't be interested in having one anymore.

When I got back from my test run, Maurice was busy making some adjustments to his helmet straps and putting on his riding gloves. He looked up as I rode up beside him and shook his head, smiling.

"Just couldn't wait, could you? I thought you had left me," he laughed.

"Naw, baby. I wouldn't leave you. Especially when we're about to go high side around Raleigh together. You know I ain't gone miss that opportunity."

Chapter 15

"His and Her Ninjas"

We rode around the usual spots where people liked to cruise and park. First, we rode down New Bern Avenue to the Blue Whale car wash. The Blue Whale was the biggest car show in town during the summer months. You could find people there anytime of the day or night washing their cars or just hanging out being seen. It was right across the street from Maurice's shop and on one of the main thoroughfares in the city. We picked up a couple of shop regulars who were cruising on their motorcycles, as well, then we all rode out to the BP station on Capital Boulevard, a popular hang out spot for bike riders. It was right at dusk when we arrived and motorcycles had already lined the front end of the parking lot facing the street.

I spotted Natalie, who had ridden with Tarik on the back of his bike. Her eyes got real big when she saw me ride up beside Maurice.

"Girl, where'd you get that bike from? It's tight."

"Thanks, girl," I beamed. "This is my birthday present."

Her mouth dropped. "Your present from who?" she wanted to know.

I looked over at Maurice, who had gone over to talk to Tarik and a couple of other guys I didn't recognize.

She grabbed my hand and pulled me off to the side. "Girl, Reese bought you that bike?" she whispered, loudly.

I nodded, grinning widely.

"When did he give it to you?"

"He bought it by the house a few minutes ago. I haven't been too long got back in town," I told her.

"I know. I have been calling you all weekend. And so have Renee and Toy. Where you been? And don't lie because I know Reese had to leave town on business Thursday," she probed, accusingly.

"You must have been talking to Renee. Damn, she got a big ass mouth."

"Well, she wouldn't tell much. All she said was you decided to go to the beach at the last minute. She said that I would have to get the rest from you."

"She did right," I said.

"Well, who'd you go with?" she asked, softly.

I pulled her away from the growing crowd in the parking lot.

"If you tell anyone else other than Toy, I'm kicking your ass, for real," I threatened.

"Who else would I tell?" she asked, innocently.

"Your man, that's who," I knew that she sometimes confided in Tarik about the stuff that just we girls talked about. A couple of things that Renee had told us about her husband in confidence had come back to me from Maurice.

"Girl, you know I don't roll like that. Tarik and Reese are too close for me to be running my mouth about stuff like that. We're girls. You know that."

"I know. I trust you." I let my guard down for my friend. "I went with Desmond."

"You went with Desmond?" she shouted.

I grabbed her by the arm and squeezed it really tight. "Damn Nat, why you gotta tell everybody?"

"Oww!" She yelled, and then cupped her hand with her mouth.

"Sorry," she mouthed. "Desmond took you to the beach?" She stared at me in disbelief.

I peeked over her shoulder to make sure no one was listening. Maurice and his friends were checking out my bike so hard that they didn't notice that we had walked away from the group to engage in our own conversation.

She spoke again. "You talking about fine ass, married Desmond that you used to work with at Global Technology?"

I nodded, trying to hold in the smile that was invading my lips.

"Y'all have fun?"

"Yep."

"Was it good?"

"What?"

She smiled, knowingly. "Don't play dumb with me, chicken. You know what I'm talking about."

I couldn't help but laugh. "I don't know. It wasn't like that."

She got mad. "Stop lying. See you make me sick, Ericka. You tell Renee all the good shit, but you don't never tell us nothing."

My girls are so jealous of each other. It drives me nuts. There are four of us and the other three loves to throw around accusations of favoritism. If one person got let in on any type of info, you'd better not forget to tell the other two, or you got accused of playing favorites. Truthfully, I love them all the same. I'm an only child, and the three of them were the sisters I never had.

"That's because you jigs run your mouths too damn much," I joked. "But, seriously, we didn't do anything."

"I can't believe that."

"Well, believe it. He was a total gentleman the entire time. We had a phat hotel suite and he paid for everything. But, he didn't ask for none, and I didn't offer."

"Damn," she said, wistfully. "Maurice must have sensed that shit, because he bought you that motorcycle. Does he know you been anywhere?"

"Yep. He had been trying to call me the whole weekend, too."

"I know he was pissed off at you."

"Oh, well," I said, indignantly. "All I do is sit around and wait on his black ass when I'm at home; bout time he sat around waiting on me for a change."

"I heard that, girlfriend. I ain't mad." She quickly changed her tone. "Here they come," she whispered.

Maurice and Tarik approached, followed by Will, Sonny and their girlfriends.

"You think you can run with the big dogs, now, don't you, E?" Sonny asked.

"Boy, I was running with the big dogs when you were still a puppy," I said, matter-of-factly.

The whole group fell out, laughing.

"I told Reese that he making the rest of us look bad. Now we got to get bikes for our women so we can keep up with y'all," said Tarik, squeezing Natalie's shoulder.

"Yeah, nigga," said Will. "Whoever heard of his and hers Ninjas? Who you think you is Jay-Z, or somebody?"

"Shit," said Sonny. "I ain't buying no bike for Kim to be riding some other cat on at bike week."

Kim swatted at Sonny. "Please, like y'all don't be riding females when we ain't nowhere around."

"I know that's right," I chimed in. "I saw a picture of some trick on the back of Sonny's bike at bike fest last year, and I know for a fact that Kim wasn't even there."

"Man, I think you better shut up while you got time," laughed Reese. "But, I tell you what. If I see some trigga on the back of that bike, I'ma shoot both of y'all off. I don't care where you at." He said, pointing at me.

"You ain't got to worry about that. You won't even get on the back of this bike," I said.

I cut my eye at Natalie, who was watching my expression at Maurice's comment.

"Whatever. We came over here to see if you player hatin' women wanted to go to Bahama Breeze to eat."

"Whatever, Haters," said Natalie. "Let's go." And with that, we jumped on our respective means of transportation and headed to the restaurant.

I was having a great time. It wasn't very often that I got to hang out without Tomika in tow or a self-imposed curfew hanging over my head. I was beginning to miss her, but it felt good to be part of some adult action for a change and not have to worry about tending to her. Her father had not seen her in over five years, so she really was never in anyone else's care other than my own unless my mother volunteered to baby-sit. Tomika was the light of my life and I enjoyed being a mother, but it was times like this that I realized how much I missed being a single adult with no children. Words like 'spontaneity' and 'freedom' were just not in my vocabulary, anymore.

After we had dinner, the gang all went their separate ways and Maurice and I went back to my house. It was such a beautiful night and the stars lit up the sky with such brilliance, that we decided to sit outside and star gaze rather than go in the house. I went to the refrigerator and got the bottle of wine that the girls at the job gave me. I took the bottle and two wineglasses back to the front porch where Maurice had already perched. He had lit a small votive candle and it flickered on my patio table.

"You gonna have a drink with me?" I asked in jest. Maurice was not a drinking man, which was something else that attracted me to him. I had only known him to drink one other time since I had known him, and even then it was a measly wine cooler that made him drunk and he ended up falling asleep on the floor in the living room. He tolerated my drinking, because it wasn't really much to tolerate. I didn't drink much more than he did.

"Yeah, pour me a little bit in a glass," he said, smiling.

I raised my eyebrows. "What? You gonna have a little taste?"

"Yeah, why not? It's your birthday. And besides, it ain't nothing but some wine."

I poured him a glass and held up mine to toast. We clinked glasses but instead of drinking along with him, I watched intently as Maurice downed the little corner I poured in his glass. How odd it was to watch someone drink that you're not used to seeing drink. It made me feel guilty for contributing to his delinquency.

"I'm sorry I ruined your weekend," I said sincerely. "If I had known that you had all these plans for me, I seriously would have stayed home instead of going to the beach. I just went out of spite."

Maurice continued to look out at the street as he spoke. "Don't sweat it, boo. All I care about is whether or not you like your present. So what if you didn't get it on your birthday?"

"I loved it, baby. I never in a million years would have guessed that you would get me a motorcycle. I guess you really do love me, huh?"

I glanced sidelong at him to see what his reaction would be. The real surprise would be to finally get him to say it.

He chuckled, "Yeah, I guess it does to hear you tell it."

Close enough.

I got up, went over and flopped down in his lap. "I knew it," I said, kissing him on the forehead. He wrapped his arm around my waist and buried his head in my chest. I stroked the top of his head and closed my eyes. A wave of euphoria swept gently across my total being. Why couldn't things be like this all the time?

I sat quiet, simply because anything I could possibly think to say in such a perfect space in time would kill the moment. How sweetly strange that he would pick this particular time in our relationship to get soft on me. I silently wondered whether I was finally wearing him down. The entire six years of our relationship had been a struggle to get him to commit. But, although I finally got the relationship, it still had only been agreed to on his terms mostly. I was still unhappy with the way things were as I had always been, but at least I had the man. So, to combat the loneliness, I go traipsing off to spend the weekend with a married man, with Maurice's nonchalant attitude as justification. Now, suddenly Maurice had decided to develop a sweet spot. I didn't know whether to be happy or pissed off.

The infernal beep from his Nextel two-way gave me my emotion of choice.

_Here we go_ , I thought.

"Yeah?" he barked into the receiver.

"Yo, man. Where you at?" the voice on the end wanted to know.

"Poole Road."

"Oh, you coming through, or what?"

Maurice paused for a second. I held my breath.

"Yeah, I'll be through there. Where you at?"

I exhaled, loudly, defeated.

"We at the shop, waiting on Tarik," the other voice answered.

"Alright. Y'all go ahead, and I'll just meet you down there."

"Alright. Peace." And they were gone.

I got up and started into the house.

Maurice was puzzled. "Where you going?" he wanted to know.

"Well, since you about to jet, I'm going to bed," I said, not turning to face him.

"I wasn't about to leave now, E. Dang, why you getting mad?"

"I'm not mad. I thought this was our night. I thought you were staying."

He followed me into the house.

"I am staying. I'm just going to hang out for a minute, then I'm coming right back. Why you tripping?"

"We just got here. What's the hurry?" I complained.

"I told the boys that I was gonna meet them at Thirty Plus." He sensed the disappointment I felt. "I won't be gone long. I promise I won't be long."

"Alright then," I said, dejectedly.

I had decided that it wasn't worth the fight and stopped making an issue about the time Maurice and I spent together. I picked my battles with Maurice and this was one I knew I couldn't win. I found that there was no such thing as a total package when dealing with men. You either got the love and affection or they made up for not giving you that by trying to buy you. It was simply asking too much to want it all. And as hard as I had been struggling by myself for the last few years, I decided that it was better to be materialistic like the rest of the chickens, rather than act like I was interested in anything other than what he could do for me.

He put his arm around me and gave me a stiff peck on the lips. "I'll call you when I'm on the way," he said. "Oh, and before you go to bed, put on that little thing I like for you to wear." He smiled, mischievously.

"Be careful," I managed to muster, instead of 'Go to hell.'

After he left, I took a hot shower and went to bed. _It's got to be more to it than this_ , I thought as I lay down.

The phone rang a few minutes after I lay down. "Hello?" I answered, annoyed.

"Hello there, Missy," Desmond said, cheerily. 'Missy' was a pet name that he always called me.

I immediately perked up. "What's up, Stud Muffin?" I asked, giving him my own temporary pet name.

"Now, I've been a lot of things," Desmond began, "but I've never been a Stud Muffin."

We both laughed. It felt good to know that at least somebody enjoyed my company.

"From what I saw over the weekend, you were a stud muffin with a tall glass of whole milk on the side," I embellished.

I could hear him blushing through the phone.

"You know, you really have a way of stroking a man's ego."

"It's not that hard, especially when mine is constantly being stroked, too," I answered.

He laughed again. Once again, Desmond had come to save the day.

We spoke on the phone for almost two hours, during which time I half-heartedly hoped that Maurice would beep in on the other line to tell me that he was on his way back from the club. He didn't.

After Desmond and I hung up, I took the half-empty bottle of wine back out on the porch to drown my sorrows. I re-lit my candle and set it down. It was after midnight and the activity begun to die down on my street.

I plopped down in my chair and struck another match to light a _Black and Mild_ cigar. I took a long drag from the cigar and began to cough. Smoking 'Blacks' was a bad habit that I picked up from my father. I loved the deep aroma that they left in his pick-up truck. When I first started buying them, I never lit them. I just kept them lying around the house because the smell was so strong, kind of like air freshener. I had since started 'smoking' them, but I hadn't actually learned how to inhale, yet. I wasn't even sure whether or not I was supposed to. Really, lighting them to smoke was nothing more than having something to do with my hands when I couldn't think of anything else to do with them. They also gave me a mild buzz so it was a harmless high of sorts, unless you counted developing lung cancer. Besides that, I found that lots of men think that it's sexy to see a woman with a cigar clenched between her teeth. Even Maurice. Toni Braxton must have started that. I heard that she smokes cigars, too.

I sat, staring out into space, pouting for two more hours before I decided that Maurice was not coming back to my house after he left the club.

Chapter 16

Part II: Maurice

"But still a trick, nonetheless..."

I know that I'm probably all types of MF's to Ericka right now. I told her that I was coming back to her house after I left the club and spend the rest of the night with her. Truth is I didn't even go to the club. I went to the shop and messed around for a minute, and then I went to my own crib to think.

Ericka swears that I'm some kind of player with a bunch of women on the side, but truth be told, I ain't never been strung out for no woman like I have been for her. I just can't seem to get used to being stuck up under no female all the time at this point in my life. It's not like I don't love Ericka or nothing like that. I need her in my life like I need air to breathe. But, I'm just not ready to give up my space. Yeah, we've had our little share of drama just like everybody else. And because of that, I've got to be sure in my own mind that when we settle down it's going to be for keeps.

Besides, no matter how much you think you know a woman; she always got a trick up her sleeve. I don't care how much of a player a brother thinks he is, he won't ever have as much game as a woman.I know I'm not innocent by a long shot, but I know for a fact that Ericka Middleton got more game than me and all my boys put together. I'm not saying that she's running it on me, either, but I'm not trying to put myself out there to be hurt again. I've been more open with her than I have any other woman, but it's going to take a little more time for me to be the sensitive dude that comes home to her every night. And the way things have been lately, it seems that time is something that I don't have a lot of.

Things have been kind of tense between us for a while, now. She's been putting more and more pressure on me about not spending time with her. She says that all I want to do is hang out with the boys at the shop. But what's wrong with that? I mean, I could see her tripping if I was out there tricking with some other female. But she knows where I am. And she knows it's all about her. She gets on my nerves because it's almost like she wants me around so she can put on a show for her little girlfriends. Like she's got to show everybody that she got a man, too. It's stupid. Ericka ain't wanted for nothing since we been together. I'd give her and Lil' Mama the world on a string and she know that. So, I like to kick it with the boys? Why would you trip if you still getting what you want out of the deal?

I guess I shouldn't be mad, though. She deserves all of my undivided attention after some of the stuff that I've pulled. I guess I've gotten so used to her being laid back and letting me do what I want that I started taking a lot of things for granted. She's tired of it now and having Ericka suddenly start to put her foot down is like being sucker punched by Mike Tyson. I never saw it coming. So, now I'm pulled between wanting to live my life and do what I want like I've been doing and giving in a little bit for the sake ofbeing in love. That might sound like some old, punk shit, but love is something I didn't even think would ever be coming out of my mouth again until I met E. Middle.

It's a trip because when Ericka first drove up to my shop with Natalie in them tight Calvin Klein cut-offs and that belly top, I thought she was just another trick. I mean she was a fine trick, but still a trick, nonetheless. There's a lot of females that come in and out of my shop every day, and they don't want to buy no damn rims, and they don't want their car detailed, unless they can sucker me into doing it for free. I call them 'shop rats.' You know the same thing as a 'hood rat' but they just got a different name because they hang out at my place of business instead of in the hood.

They come in here switching they hot behinds in here in front of all my boys thinking they gonna get paid because everybody that hang out at the shop travel lavish. They see the platinum jewelry around their necks and all them carats in they ears and these chicks swear that they've hit the jackpot. But with all the traffic I get in and out of my shop, if them niggas really had any intentions of spending any money, I would be paid enough to open a bigger shop and expand my business into car repairs, too. Hell, I could have bought E. a beamer for her birthday instead of that damn death trap motorcycle that she been talking about since I met her.

Anyway, I just took her number because I knew the boys would have been talking junk if I didn't take it. It's like an insult to their manhood if they can't trick some broad into giving them their phone number when they go somewhere. They think I'm a punk and I'm shy and all this and that because I don't jock women like that. But hell, I've been with enough women to know that all of them ain't for you like they want you to believe.

I found that out when I got to junior high and started noticing girls for the first time. I've always been handsome according to my mom and all my sisters, so I went into the game thinking I was the man. All the little girls wanted my phone number and to sit beside me at lunch. You know how it is. But the accident changed all that quick.

When I was thirteen, I was riding my bike to go meet some of the fellas to play ball. Some fool in a big, old Cadillac came out of nowhere and plowed right into me. Somehow, me and the bike got caught under the car. I got third degree burns on my face and neck from the muffler and tailpipe. I stayed in the hospital for a whole year. They grafted skin from places I didn't even know I had skin. All in all, they did a pretty decent job, but I'll have this scar on my face for the rest of my life. They probably could have made it look a lot better, but that was in the early seventies, and I guess technology wasn't what it is now. The doctor told me that they could work miracles with plastic surgery now. But after all this time, it doesn't even matter to me no more. So, what you see is what you get.

When I got back to school the next year, people at school acted different. Now, that I think about it, I was pretty freaked out about the whole thing, too. It was months before I could look in the mirror. My real friends were cool about it after they got over the initial shock. But you know how kids are. I got clowned big time. They had all kinds of names for me that I still can't bring myself to repeat after all these years. And the girls that would talk to me wouldn't do it in public, only on the telephone or after school when everybody else wasn't around.

It hurt, so to deal with it, I got into sports. I was All-American all the way through school. I played basketball, football, baseball and I ran track. By the time I got to high school, it didn't matter what I looked like anymore, because I was the one carrying all the teams to the championships every year. I had more girls than Jay-Z. Now, all of a sudden all the girls that snickered and clowned me behind my back was all up my grill. All the girls that didn't want to be seen with me in public suddenly wanted to be my date for the Homecoming dance. Man, women learn how to be scandalous early. But Mama didn't raise no fool. There was no way I was going to give any of those chicks any play after being treated like a wet food stamp all that time. But I had too much class to just diss them outright, so I was just friendly to everybody without playing anyone as a favorite. Besides, my parents didn't teach me to dog no women.

Luckily my family showed me a lot of love during my healing process. I'm the youngest of ten and the only boy. And since I was the baby, my sisters always treated me like I was their child instead of their brother. They took turns caring for me while I was in the hospital. They would sit with me all day and baby me, corn rowing my afro and reading Ebony and Jet magazine to me from cover to cover because I was too weak to open my eyes and look at the pictures. When I was finally released, they all went shopping and bought nice clothes to help boost me up since my confidence had been shattered along with my looks in that accident.

Returning to school was hard. I was sixteen but teasing from kids is worse when you get older. Even some of the kids that I was cool with went along with the other kids that picked on me. Only my boys Will and Tarik remained true friends during that time. They even took up for me when they heard other kids teasing. But it still didn't make my feelings to hurt any less. I used to come home from school and cry, as big as I was because I just wanted to be normal again. My mom used to come to my room and try to cheer me up on those extra rough days. She would say, "Boy, I don't care what them other no count kids at that school say. You still my child, and your daddy and me didn't make no ugly kids. You hear me?" My sisters loved to boost my head up and give me little compliments and whistle at me when I would have to get dressed for church and stuff like that. You wouldn't think that compliments from a dude's sister would have much weight, but I was close with my sisters and I took to heart everything they said. I guess it's true that if you keep telling someone the same thing over and over they start to believe it, because pretty soon, all the love that my family lavished on me went to my head. I'm not stuck on myself or nothing, but I got mad confidence. So, by the time chicken's started paying me some attention I wasn't so glad to get it that I just fell for every little thing in a skirt that tried to sound sincere. I just played it off like I wasn't fazed.

Even though my being good at sports caused me to get much play with the ladies, the only one that I took seriously was my ex-wife, Toni. Toni was different from the others because she wasn't flashy like the other chicks that used to always rub up on me after the games. I ain't never been too keen on women that show a lot of skin. I mean, I ain't no punk or nothing. I'll look, but when it comes to having a woman in my life it's certain things about her that I'm just not interested in sharing, you know? Toni was classy and was kind of quiet. Her parents kept a tight reign on her, so I knew she wasn't really out there with other dudes. And I liked the idea of marrying a virgin.

I loved Toni.I can't even lie. And she was good to me. She was supportive during my athletic career. I played semi-professional football for a couple of years after I graduated from junior college. She came to all my games, and she never tripped about me coming home late or being gone for weeks at a time. Toni cooked almost better than Moms did, and she kept the house so clean I would scold myself for leaving shit on the floor. And sometimes, deep down inside, I still miss her every now and then.

The biggest problem that I had with Toni was that she was just too damned perfect. And when you got that much of a woman, sooner or later you'll find out that stuff just ain't gonna balance out. Toni was the most passive lover I ever had. Don't get me wrong. Believe it or not, I can count on one hand the number of women I been with intimately. I told you, I wasn't raised to be no dog. But even with the limited experience I had in the bedroom,I knew that it just wasn't popping off like it was supposed to.

Toni had a banging body, and I got a rise just watching her do everyday tasks like mopping the floor. She was my queen, but I couldn't get her to understand that it was okay for her to open up to me as her husband. I never had the problem waiting till after we were married. It was just that afterwards, she never learned to put her trust in me when it came to sex. It was a trip, because I'm not even a freaky deaky type brother. I wasn't trying to stand her on her head or beat her or no crazy shit like that. She just never learned to enjoy us being together.

I tried everything. I did the rose petals on the bed, the scented candles, you name it. But I couldn't get her to open up to me. And since we couldn't really consummate the marriage, we were never really able to connect as husband and wife. And since we really didn't have a relationship, I just stopped coming home. I had even stopped playing ball so I could spend more time with her and develop our relationship because I wanted to start working on a family. But once I came home for good and got a real job, things became even more strained. She started making up excuses not to have sex with me and when she would have sex, she would just lay there. I felt like I was screwing a corpse.

The last time I attempted to be with her, I felt her body shivering under mine. I thought that maybe she was finally starting to come around a little. I was smiling on the inside because I thought that maybe this was the night that we could start having a real marriage. Thinking that progress was being made, I raised up to look into her eyes. It was then that I noticed that she wasn't throwing it back to me like I thought, but she was crying. Man, my little man just shriveled up and went on to sleep. I didn't get mad, but I just wanted her to talk to me so I could help. This was, after all the woman that I was gonna have to spend the rest of my life with, and I had no intention of stepping out on her when she had all I needed at home.

But I could never get her to tell me what was wrong. She just cried in my arms and I held her until she fell asleep. After that I started sleeping in the spare bedroom. I thought that maybe I was putting too much pressure on her, and that she would come to me when she was ready. Well, about five months later, she did come to me; with some divorce papers.Shortly after that, she moved back home to her parents, and I had no choice but to move on.

I have a couple of theories why Toni couldn't sleep with me. At first I thought that maybe she had been molested or something. But I could never picture her daddy doing nothing like that to her. He just didn't fit the profile, whatever that would be. And I can't recall her ever having any other men that would have access to her in her house like that. The only other thing that I could figure out was that it was worse having to look at my gruesome face that close up every night than she thought it would be. I really believe that she couldn't bear to be that close to me. I never asked her, though, because I was afraid that she might confirm it; afraid that she might be bold enough to admit it to me.

At first, the thought kind of bugged me to think that my own wife couldn't stand the sight of me. Why would you even get with me if my looks were going to bother you like that? She never let on that she felt like that when we were dating, because we were always comfortable around each other, and had a good relationship. But I guess with all the going out to movies sitting in the dark and having to come straight home after dates never prepared her for having to look at me all day and all night, too.

Okay, maybe I might sound a little paranoid to you, but I'm real. I've been living behind this face for almost twenty years. So long, in fact, that no reaction that I get from people seeing me for the first time surprises me, anymore. I admit my looks probably do take some getting used to. But the fact that my own wife may not have been able to get used to it don't make a brother feel good. But we all got to do what we need to do to get along in this world, and whatever Toni or anybody else thinks about how I look don't stop me from thinking that I'm still a handsome devil by my own standards and they can't take that away from me. Hell, it really doesn't stop women from approaching me, anyway.

I started kicking it with Cassandra after that. Cassandra was a rebound woman and she knew it. And I hate to say it, but I fell for her too. We saw each other off and on for about two years. But I was scared of getting my heart broken again, so I wouldn't let her get close to me. Or rather, I let her think that she wasn't getting next to me. We had a good time, but I just wasn't trying to be serious with anyone else right then. But I wanted her to stay around until I got ready. But she didn't know that I had plans to get serious with her.

After about a year, Cassandra got tired of waiting and broke it off. She started seeing this other cat, and then I met Ericka. After that, we stopped seeing each other at all. About two years later, she called me one night after she had a fight with her boyfriend. She told me that she and that other dude was over and that she wanted to get back with me. At that time, Ericka and I had decided that we were going to be just friends (or rather I told her that I just wanted somebody to kick it with every now and then, and she agreed) so I went ahead and laid it down with Cassandra. I told myself that since Ericka went along with me so easily about being friends, maybe she wasn't really serious about me. Plus, I still kind of wanted to be with Cassandra. So we got busy. And she got pregnant.

I was loving the fact that I was going to be a daddy. I was with her through the whole pregnancy. I was at every doctor visit and asked more questions than she did. I wasn't going to leave the mother of my child out there like that with my baby. I was going to support her because I wanted my son to have a good start like I did. Hell, I didn't come from no broken home. But Cassandra took it that we were going to get married and be a family. Eventually we probably would have because I wasn't trying to have any other man around my son, but me. I just wasn't ready right at the same moment when she was ready. My divorce from Toni was still a fresh wound. I tried to tell Cassandra that she wouldn't never have to worry about nothing as far as her or the baby was concerned. But, hormones do strange things to a woman's mind when she is carrying a baby. Dealing with Cassandra's crazy ass during her pregnancy gave me a taste of why so many brothas leave their girlfriends and their kids. But it don't justify it for me so I wasn't going nowhere.

Cassandra kept stressing me about moving in with her and getting married. When I told her I wasn't ready to get married, she broke it off with me and told me that she wasn't going to let me see my son.I know we had a kid on the way and everything but I was doing everything that a man is supposed to do in a situation like that. I gave her whatever she asked for. I helped her with her bills and kept food in her hungry ass mouth because I didn't want my son's stomach to be growling inside hers, you know? And it pissed me off that she would insult my manhood after all the stuff I was doing for her just because I didn't want to get married. And it wasn't like I told her crazy ass that I wouldn't marry her at all; just not when she wanted me to.Shit, any other man would had told her to come and see them for a DNA after the baby was born before she could even get a dime.

I don't understand why women always try to play the marriage card, anyway, like that's going to make everything all right; knowing full well that if you're already having problems it's just going to make it worse. I mean, I'd already been hurt before so I would have never done nothing intentional to hurt her. And I always did right as far as my seed was concerned. But, it wasn't enough. It never seems to be enough for some women. If I had married her knowing that I wasn't ready to be her husband and it didn't work out, I would have still been the bad guy. She wasn't going to let me win no matter what, so I made my decision and rode it out.

She threatened to move back to Maryland where she was originally from, so I couldn't see my baby everyday and she would do stupid stuff like change her appointment time so I would be showing up at the wrong time looking stupid. She flat out gave me the wrong time for the ultrasound appointment; the one when you find out the sex of the baby. By the time I got there with my video camera, they told me that she had asked not to let anyone in the room.When I would go to her house to check on her sometimes she would try to make me give her some, and then get mad because I wouldn't sleep with her. She would scream and cry, getting herself all worked up. She would throw shit like she was having a temper tantrum. I knew that wasn't good for the baby, so I would get pissed off and fly off the handle. Then she would lose it and scream and wile out for hours. And I would just sit there and listen in case she decided to try something crazy. I didn't want her to hurt herself or the baby. I didn't know what to do. But, despite all that, I was in the delivery room when my sons entered this world and haven't been too far behind him since.

After Cassandra had Lil' Reese, her hormones calmed down a little bit, but things were never really the same between us. I can't really explain it to you. I guess after going through all those changes, she just drained me of every emotion that I could have felt for her. I could never hate her, because she was the flower who bore my seed, but too many things had been said and done between us in those nine months and damage was done that could never be fixed. Our split was peaceful, and we are still cool to this day. We raise our son together like two adults should and we respect each other.

I guess she really was ready to settle down because she got with this cat she met at church and they got married. I'm not going to lie. My feelings were hurt behind that one. I couldn't see another man being daddy to my son when I'm not around and getting to be around him more than me. I was jealous so then it was my turn to trip. San and I started arguing and I told her that she was stupid for marrying somebody else when she knew I would always take care of her no matter what. I told her that if anything happened to my son under that fool's care, I was going to kill both of them. Now I realize that I was wrong. And even though I would prefer that Lil' Reese only had one male figure in his life; things have turned out pretty decent, so far. Sometimes I wonder if I could've avoided all this from happening if I had just married San from the beginning. I wonder if everything was all my fault for making the wrong decision when it came to my son's mother. I guess I'll never know. I always think about something Ericka says all the time. "It doesn't matter what choice you make, as long as you're able to live with your decision." And so far, this has been a pretty livable decision. I'm not cool about not being able to have my son around me every single day, but then again, if I had chose to be with his mother, I would have lost Ericka.

But ever since my ex-wife, Toni, and me split up I've been sort of apprehensive about committing myself to another relationship. 'Apprehensive' is one of them one hundred dollar words I got from Ericka. She's a freaking egghead. I call her 'Encyclopedia Brown.' I love to tease her about using all them big words, but on the real, it's a big turn on for me. When E. hits you with one of those words you can tell she's not doing it to try to impress you or talk down to you. That's just how she talks. I used to try to trip her up by asking her what stuff meant all the time. And she would rattle off the definition without blinking. Now when I ask I'm trying to learn something. My baby is smart and when you dealing with somebody of above average intelligence, you got to be willing to grow and learn. And keeping up with E. Middle is a full time job as it is without being a dummy on top of it all.

Like I said, earlier, when I met Ericka I just thought she was another wannabe shop rat. She drove up with my best friend, Tarik's girl, Natalie one day. I saw her checking me out, but there are not too many women that don't stare at me for some reason or another. There are actually some women who are attracted to this damned scar on my face. Some chicks tell me that it gives me a thugged out look. And thug niggas seem to be in, right now. Go figure. So when she kept ducking her eyes when I would look her way, I didn't think much of it. Or rather, I was trying to play it off like I didn't have the urge to grab her and bite her on the jaw. She was a straight dime piece and those Calvin Klein cut-offs she had on was showing her booty no mercy.

Ericka's got it going on, inside and out. She's a five-foot, six-inch tall Amazon. She's not a model type chick with a pale face and no booty that dudes seem to go for nowadays. E. is a real woman with big, childbearing hips and a firm back yard. She's got big legs and tight calves that cut up the booty just right when she wears high-heeled shoes. She's got milk chocolate skin and those little bitty tight eyes that close when she laughs and makes me weak when she looks at me. She's a wholesome beauty. She doesn't wear make-up too much and when she does, it's usually only eye liner and Chap Stick.She's got thick, shoulder length hair that she wears in a ponytail, which I love. But what I love even more is that she didn't have to tussle with the pony for his tail. I can't stand women that wear weave. You can look in her face and tell that she's a deep thinker because she has that serious look. It's not a hateful look like a chicken head with an attitude, but a no nonsense air, like she about business.

My girl is a tomboy at heart so she always got on jeans and sneakers. But she don't be sagging like the fellas. Her jeans always fit like the skin on a banana. And we got the same taste in shoes and shirts. It ain't nothing for me to look up and see her in one of my tee shirts or swallowed up in one of my throwbacks. It's a good thing we don't wear the same size shoe. She loves men's clothes, but her tomboyish look brings out her feminine side. It's kind of like watching your girl walking around the house in your pajama top and no bottoms. And unlike a lot of girls, rarely does she walk around with her butt hanging out; except those Calvin Klein cut-offs. I can't even get her to wear them, no more.

Before I saw her looking at me I wanted to step to her, but I knew at least two of them buzzards already that was standing outside the shop with me that day already had her locked in their sites as soon as she got out of the car. And didn't none of them really have no game, anyway. So I wasn't gonna play myself by trying to out talk the rest of them. Not that I've got all of this tight game, either, but niggas that hang out in my shop talk too damned much. They play themselves by saying the stupid stuff they be saying. But when she walked up on me and started asking me questions about the engine and rpm's and stuff like that on the bike, I knew she wasn't no ordinary woman. I got nine sisters and don't none of them know the difference between a go-cart and a lawnmower, much less a Harley and a Ninja.

Even though Ericka didn't front about wanting to ride on my motorcycle, she also had a real interest in what kind of power it had and the new stuff that had been added to the new year model. It was funny hearing a female talk like that. Most chicks would have been asking stupid questions in an attempt to act interested so they can get in good. And they try to be slick and feel you out to see what they can get out of you. Stupid stuff, like 'how you gonna take somebody for a ride when you only got one helmet?' But baby girl loves a bike and she didn't have any problem telling me what she wanted from me. And when I told her that I would take her for a ride, all I was thinking about was how good those Calvin Klein cut-off shorts was going to look spread out behind me as I zoomed down the street. I didn't know all I was getting at the time.

Like I said before, not only is Erica fine as all outdoors, but she's smart. E. knows a little about everything so she can mix it up with people that most ordinary folks can't. She spent time in the military, so she's been around all types of people. That doctor that she works for is always taking her to these medical symposiums (another hundred dollar word) that they have at these high dollar restaurants like Angus Barn and Second Empire. Ericka will go in there and mingle with all them doctors and surgeons like she's got a medical degree herself. Then, she'll leave them and stop by the shop and shoot the shit with me and the boys like she ain't never left the hood.

And to top it off, my baby takes care of her baby all by herself. Tomika's nine and her father hasn't been in her life since she was two. The dude don't even pay child support or nothing. I just can't understand how any man can know he got kids in the world and act like they don't exist. I couldn't handle not being able to see my son everyday. That's my dawg.

I remember one time I was at the Blue Whale cleaning my car. I push a white BMW 740 with twenty-inch deep dish chrome dips. Anyway, this cat who was checking out my ride happened to see Lil' Reese's car seat in the back. He was like, "Man, I don't be riding around with no car seat in my whip. Mama has to ride with that thing in her car." Like he ashamed for people to know he got a kid. Lil' Reese and Tomika won't ever cramp my style like that. If anything, I get more play with my kids in the car with me than I do when I'm by myself. Not that I'm looking for any play, right now, but I'm just saying. And yeah, I said 'kids.' I love Tomika just like she's mine. But anyway, he pissed me off and I let him know right then and there that I didn't have no problem rolling with the car seat. Niggas need to grow up and learn what it really means to be a man. When I do marry Ericka, I'll be the daddy that Tomika's sorry sperm donor could never be and we all going to have the same last name. Forget that step- crap. I hope that one day she'll call me 'Daddy' instead of Uncle Reese like she does now. I always wanted me a little girl. I haven't told any of this to her mama, though. If I did, she would really start stressing me out.

It didn't take long for E. and I to get tight. We have most of the same interests. A chick that has a genuine interest in cars, motorcycles, and sports is hard to come by. And it's even harder to find one that's got the same taste in kicks. It's weird because Ericka is more like my running partner than my girlfriend. It's almost like kicking with Kenny or Tarik; only she's softer and easier on the eyes. When she comes around the shop, she doesn't make the boys uncomfortable by acting all stank like somebody did something to her. She'll come in and start kicking it with the homies and talking shit, just like she one of us.

Sometimes she might even go in the Boom Boom room and shoot dice, which tripped everybody out at first. I got a little area in the back of my shop that looks like a closet, but it opens up into an extra space that I let the boys gamble in after I close the shop. They don't even mind her shooting with them. And she be winning, too. But I had to make her stop going back there because a couple of dudes got robbed a while back leaving the shop. We used to just play for fun, but lately, a lot of money has been exchanging hands back there. I had to start packing some heat after that first stick-up and I don't want Ericka to get rolled on because some thug thinks she got some dough on her.

On the for real, for real, I ain't really all that cool with Ericka hanging out at Hot Wheelz, period. It's not like she spend a lot of time there, or nothing, but it's not the kind of place for a woman, especially my woman to be hanging out. Most of the dudes that hang out at the shop are cool, but they sneaky and scandalous, just like these chickens. I know they be looking at E. and trying to holla at her when they think I'm not paying attention. She handles herself well, so they don't mess around with her too much. Plus, she's too independent to run to me every time somebody steps to her. I haven't even said anything to her about any of this because then she would think I don't want her around because I'm trying to hide something and start popping up all the damn time. We been going through some things lately and I ain't trying to add fuel to the fire. And since she don't really hang around a lot, now it's easier just to act busy when I want to get her to leave. She says she don't like to be a distraction while I'm working, so she'll usually bounce. Or I just give her something to do. She's been helping me with some admin stuff in my office, so I just send her back there. Once she starts doing something, she don't stop until it's done, so that keeps her out of the limelight for a while.

That's another thing I like about her. She isn't really a nuisance like other chicks I've run into. Most of my boys can't stand to take their girls nowhere. In fact, they can't even stand to be around them most of the time because women expect to be right up under us every waking moment. They always want us to be up in their face, holding their hand or kissing their ass, or something. But E. is different. She actually has a life. She acts like a grown person with responsibilities other than trying to keep up with me. She's not desperate like the rest of these females out here. She's so laid back; she had me thinking she didn't want me. Until lately, she never even tripped about the long hours I kept at the shop or me hanging out with the fellas afterwards. I had a little too much room to breathe. That's what got me in the mess I'm in, now. I took all that rope I had and hung myself with it.

When I think about it, I actually have the ideal woman; fine, smart, well- rounded, fun to be with. But right now, this relationship thing is not so cool. Ericka has been riding me to death about not spending enough time with her. I told you when you think you got the ideal woman; something is not going to balance out. She swears out that I'm always out with the boys. I keep telling her I'm trying to get paid. Right now, other than her and my kids, that's all I care about. I've been trying to get her to understand that I don't get a paycheck every week like the rest of these cats that work for somebody else. And regardless of what my shop looks like on the outside, it ain't no drug front. If it wasn't for my kids, I might would consider doing something illegal. It would be an easy way to make some real money. But, I can't get locked up and leave my kids without a father. Tomika and Lil' Reese keep me honest. And since I'm the only one I can depend on for money, I got to go whenever the money calls. Sometimes that might mean that the shop stays open until eleven or twelve o'clock. If I have a slow week, I'll let the boys gamble in the back and cut the house. And as long as the shop is open, I got to be there. They my men's and them, but if anything happens to Hot Wheelz, and I'm not there, it's still on me. I know that gambling is illegal, too, but the police ain't trying to harass me about no petty dice game.

When we first got together, everything was cool. But I wasn't sure if she would ever mean anything to me, so I didn't spend a whole lot of time with her then, either. Plus, I was still messing around with Cassandra trying to figure out what she was going to do. Cassandra was stressing me out about the time thing, back then, too and I was thinking about cutting her loose, anyway. I was so impressed with Ericka's game after the first time I went to see her that I was already in. I used to make myself not go to her house or call her so I wouldn't seem all anxious, like Genuwine. She was the "around the way girl" that L.L. talked about in that song and I vibed better with her than I did with any other woman. She made me feel like she had a real interest in me; not just because she thought I was thugged out or because she thought I had some loot. And to top it off, she was cool with just being friends. She never hounded me about coming over and taking her out or nothing. And she was always glad to see me when I came. She just kind of went with the flow. That's what I used to love about E. She was laid back and not into all the drama that all other females seem to love. And just like a fool, I messed up the only other good thing I had in my life besides my son.

Chapter 17

(Maurice)

"I Need my Jewels!"

Even though E. and me weren't technically an item, I was still sloppy in letting her know about my son. I told you, I thought she was being nonchalant and just passing time with me. We had been together off and on for the last two or three years. She didn't really push the issue about us not taking the relationship any further, so like any other man; I didn't say nothing about it either. Honestly, I really did like her, but I didn't think she wanted to be serious. I was hoping that the subject wouldn't come up. So when she didn't push it, I just took advantage of the situation.

One night about six months after my son was born, Ericka saw a picture of me holding him on the night stand. I admit sparing her the details about why I had been avoiding her for damn near a year, and I definitely didn't tell her that I had been screwing my ex, but I could've sworn that I told her that I had a son. I might be ashamed of the way I chose to handle the situation, but I ain't never been ashamed of my baby. But for some reason, Ericka didn't know that Cassandra had ever been pregnant.

I tried to reason with her, but hell, she wasn't trying to hear nothing I had to say. Lil' Reese was already six months into his life. It wasn't nothing nobody could do about that. We argued and I said something that really hurt her. I told her basically that she didn't have no reason to trip because she wasn't my girl. If I could've taken it back, I would have. That was a foul thing to say, especially since deep down I knew she really was my girl. But the way she started flipping on a brother, I guess I got nervous. She was acting like Cassandra used to act when she was pregnant. I could kinda see where she had a right to be mad, but it wasn't like I did the shit on purpose; not to tell her about the baby, I mean. I still believe that I really did tell her that I had a son on the way. Hell, I told everybody else. I would never say this to her, but she wasn't all that into me when the situation first came up. So, she pushed that little piece of information into the very back of her mind and forgot about it. She just took it out on me because she forgot.

Things got rough between us for a long time after that. In fact, I'm still getting fallout from all of this, right now. She wouldn't leave the house right after she found out that night. She just sat up with me looking through all of the baby's pictures. She spent the night, but she had to leave early the next morning for National Guard duty. I'll never forget the last thing she said before she turned her back on me and walked out. She was like; "I know I shouldn't be hurt because we're not really together. But deep down, I would have loved to think I'd made more of an impression on you than I apparently did." She told me that she needed time to get over it by herself and she would call me when she could face me again. And I stood in the door in my boxers, like a damn fool, wishing I had done right by her from the start. Because watching her leave and not knowing whether or not I would ever see her again, I suddenly realized that after two years of 'just kicking it' with this girl that she had me open like Miami Subs after the club closed.

I tried to tell myself that she was just mad and needed some cool off time, but then a couple of days of not hearing from her turned into a couple of weeks. I tried to act like I wasn't fazed but I couldn't let what we had go out like that. I wanted this woman more than anything, and even though I was playing it cool, I had to put my pride down and sweat her for a change.

And that hateful chick did not make it easy for me, either. She made me run her down, for real. I called. We talked. We argued. I went to her house. She wouldn't let me in. We'd fuss through the door. Ericka could be just as mean and evil, as she was sweet and easygoing. Hell, I almost threw up my hands to the whole thing. I ain't got time to be sweating no woman. But she wasn't just any woman. She was my woman. Or she could have been my woman, if I hadn't been trying to be hard. I played myself, just like them niggas at the shop do all the time.

Finally, one day out of the blue, on a day when I was really stressed, she called me on the phone and said, "I wanna see the baby."

Just like that. No 'hello,' or 'can we talk?' or nothing. I started to say, "Let me call you back," or something stupid like that. She caught me off guard and I was tired of her having the upper hand. She wouldn't take my calls. I thought she was gonna call the police on me when I tried to come to her house. She had completely shut down on me. Now, all of a sudden, she calls almost a year later giving me some instructions. So, I said, "All right. I'll bring him over this weekend." I ain't no fool. I had already played myself once and I wasn't about to do it again.

When I brought Lil' Reese to Ericka's house, I thought he was gonna tear down the joint. He was about eightteen months old and getting into everything. With Tomika being old enough to know better, E's house is not really child proofed. She's got candles and knickknacks all over the place. My son could not stop touching everything he saw. I was nervous because I thought she was going to be mad about Cassandra's child up in her house messing up stuff. But she didn't. By the time we got ready to leave, she had him so spoiled that he didn't want to leave. He was all up in her lap and loving on her like he had known her the whole time. He wouldn't even look at me. And Tomika fell right into the big sister role. She pulled everything she owned out of her toy box so that he could play with it. I had to tell her to put most of it back because I could spend all of my cheddar at Toys R Us replacing Tomika's stuff. I think she liked the idea of being big sister so much, she didn't even mind the fact that Lil' Reese was demolishing her room like Godzilla let loose in Tokyo.

He played until he fell into a coma in Tomika's room from pure exhaustion. Tomika put him in her bed and then lay down on her stomach beside him to watch television, leaving me and Ericka in the room alone. We sat there, she on the couch, and I was on the floor at her feet. Nobody was saying anything. My stomach was in knots because I thought she was still pissed off at me and wanted to argue. _Here it comes_ , I thought. A year was enough time to build up a volcano of shit, and though I missed her, I wasn't up for no fight. Any other cat would have thought I was taking the soft route for what I did next, but I didn't care. I knew that most of this was my fault. If nothing else, I had no business trying to play her and Cassandra at the same time. If I had just kept chilling with E., I wouldn't even be having to deal with this mess to start with.

I looked at her. She had this blank look on her face. I gave her the little tired, puppy dog eyes and tried to smile, but she just looked past me out the window. I took a deep breath, hunched my shoulders, and closed my eyes. She wasn't having it. The only thing left for me to do was to brace myself for a big-time tongue-lashing.

"He's handsome," she said to whatever had her attention in the window.

"Thanks," I said, trying not to say too much too fast.

She got up and walked toward the window.

"I guess when you assume, you really do make an ass out of yourself," she sighed.

"What you mean?"

"Well, even though we hadn't verbally committed to each other, I just naturally assumed that because things were so well between us, that you weren't sleeping with anyone else."

"Baby, I wasn't sleeping with nobody else."

She raised her eyebrows and turned her gaze from me toward the bedroom where Tomika and Lil' Reese were.

"So that baby in my daughter's room is a product of my over active imagination, just like me thinking I was the only woman in your life, right?" she scoffed.

Okay, so I said something stupid. I tried again.

"No, babe. I mean, I hadn't been before that night with Cassandra. When she called me to her house that night, I didn't really have any intentions of doing anything but talking, for real. But, I have to admit; I still had some feelings for her. I had some for you, too, but you know brothers ain't used to females who don't try to put them on lock down. You acted so cool about everything, I thought you didn't want me or you had somebody else. So, I figured since San wasn't with her man no more, then maybe I could go ahead and hook back up with her instead of waiting around to get dissed by you."

"Remember about a year ago when I told you that I thought I was about to get locked up behind some old charges from a bench warrant? Well, I was lying. I ain't never had no charges on me like that. That was the most believable lie I could come up with to buy me some time until I could get a handle on San's crazy ass.San was pregnant then, and her hormones had taken over. I was spending all of my free time trying to be there to support her till the baby came. She was trying to get married, but I didn't want to get married and mess up three lives."

She narrowed her eyes, remembering.

I kept talking.

"She knew it wasn't going to work but I guess she didn't want to be by herself with a baby, no matter how miserable she had to be."

"I stayed away from you because I didn't know how to tell you that I had got somebody else pregnant. And on top of that, I know how she is. She would have automatically seen you as a threat to her getting what she wanted, and y'all would have been at each other's throats. I know you wouldn't have been trying to stoop to her level, but San can be ruthless enough to make you wanna draw blood from her ass. And I couldn't have forgiven neither one of y'all if something happened to my baby over some bullshit while she was carrying him."

"Anyway, she started coming back to herself after Lil' Reese was born and things had actually been going pretty smooth between me and you, despite the fact that I had been carrying around this secret. I guess I should've given you a little more credit and just told you all of this before."

For the first time, I had to admit that I had been wrong. I really hadn't mentioned to her that I was about to become a father. I was so busy sneaking around trying to avoid her and trying to keep Cassandra from killing herself or me one, that I never considered telling the truth as an option. Here we were, almost two years later discussing the situation all calm and uneventful. If she snapped and told me to get out and don't come back, it would have been good enough for my dumb ass.

Ericka had been listening real quiet and patient the whole time I was talking. After I finished, she walked up on me so close, she couldn't have done nothing else but kissed me or slapped me. I stood stock-still and waited. She lifted her hand and pointed the long nail on her index finger so close to the tip of my nose she was almost touching it. I took a deep breath. _Damn_. I knew I was gonna have to fight this chick before the night was over. She opened her mouth to say something but nothing came out. She withdrew her hand and took a step back.

"First of all," she began, "I take extreme pleasure in being right, so let me just say that I don't appreciate the manner in which you spoke to me on the night that I found out about Christopher in the beginning. So, I believe that an apology is in order, don't you?"

I hung my head. Erica automatically got proper on you when she started to read your ass. She sounded like that lady judge on TV. I felt like a condemned man. But if all she wanted was an apology, I was more than happy to give her one.

"Baby, I'm sorry for not handling my business with you. You know I would never hurt you on purpose."

I stepped up to her and tried to kiss her lips, but she held up her hand, so I ended up kissing the inside of her palm.

"And..." she continued unfazed by sudden display of affection, "you lied continuously to keep me from finding out about what you had done. You know, I'd relieve you of your scrotal sac and its contents, since that is what got us into this difficult situation in the beginning, except that the planet Jupiter would not be far enough away for me to run to get away from you once you fully recovered. Not to mention that I probably wouldn't be able to get within several miles of your genitals as long as I had scissors in my hand."

I winced. _Scissors?_

"Baby, I thought we were handling this like adults. C'mon, now. I need my jewels."

She had really lost it.

"What for? Are you planning to do this to me, again?" she asked, sarcastically.

"No, E. Middle. I promise it won't ever be nobody but you ever again. Can we please start over so things can go back to the way they were before all this happened?"

She looked at me with a cold stare.

"Things can never be like they were, Maurice. You made sure of that. You had a baby by another woman. That means I can never bear your first child. That means if we decide to have anymore, I can't name him Maurice, Jr. because you already have a Maurice. Even though we weren't together, you claim that you had feelings for me. You said you cared for me, but you cheated on me. Even though we weren't exclusive, I cared so much about you that I didn't want to be with nobody else. But you couldn't give me that same respect. Now, not only do I get to feel like a fool, I get to look like one in front of everybody because they know we've been together too long for you to have a baby that young by somebody else. Things will never be the same between us again."

She turned her back on me.

I spun her back around.

"Look at me, baby. Please, now. I didn't know you felt that way about me. God knows I didn't. If I did, I wouldn't even have answered my phone when San called me that night. I swear on my life, if I had known you wanted to be with me, I would never had gone to her house."

"Look. I know that I committed the ultimate disrespect. But you know that technically we weren't together. I know you don't like to hear me say that, but baby, that's real talk. But, now that I know that our feelings were mutual all along, you gotta give me a chance to show you how much I want to be with you. At least give me a chance to make things right with us."

She shook her head.

"I don't know, Reese. Too much has happened. When you told me that you weren't really looking for a serious relationship, I gave you your space because I know you can't make anyone do anything until they're ready. As our friendship began to grow, I thought that you were coming around. I didn't think I would have to sweat you about being in a relationship. I was sure that you would come around on your own. Then to find out that all this time, I was being played..."

She stopped and closed her eyes like thinking it about was too much for her to bear.

"I have my pride, Maurice. And I have a problem with taking you back and having to worry about whether or not you out in some other woman's face because you think I'm losing interest."

"I can't do nothing about what happened, Ericka. All I can do is do what I can to make things work from here on out. I know it's not going to be easy. I know I'm going to have to win back your trust. And I know I'm going to be subject to interrogations when I get home late and all that. But, babe, you do whatever you need to do, okay? Because I need for you to trust me. Alright?"

She nodded her head, but she didn't look like she really believed me.

"If you say that I'm what you want, Reese, then I'm willing to give you the benefit of the doubt this one time. But you need to understand that whenever you get upset about me questioning your whereabouts that you brought all of this about with your sneaking around. Every time you want to fix your mouth and tell me to trust you, think about why it is that I don't. I'm not sure how long it will take me to get past this or if I ever will, but my feelings for you are strong enough to leave room in my heart to give you another chance. But understand that if you mess it up this time, it will be on you."

After she reluctantly took me back, things were decent between us for a long time after that. Then all of a sudden, I can't explain it, but I started slipping away from her, again. I wasn't kicking it with no other females, or nothing like that, but the situation with me and Ericka just got a little too comfortable. I started getting antsy. In a way, I started feeling smothered by her. She wasn't keeping tabs or nothing. I just felt like I was missing something by coming home to Ericka everyday. Tarik and the boys would be hanging out during the week, and I would be at home watching television with Ericka and Tomika. It was cool, but it just wasn't me. So, I kind of got back out there a little bit. Really, all I'm doing is just putting in a little extra overtime at the shop. No big thing. But Ericka got used to me being home and now she is tripping. She says I don't spend no time with her. She even went so far as accusing me of being with Cassandra, of all people. We have been arguing a lot about it. I love her now, as much as I did before, but I just don't know how to make her understand that I need more room to breathe. I don't want to break up, or nothing. I'm just used to doing my own thing. But I'm afraid if I tell her that, she'll take it wrong and think I don't want to be with her. So, I spend most of my time avoiding her and the situation. But lately, I've had a strange feeling like our relationship was about to go through a major change. I just couldn't put my finger on what it could be.

Chapter 18

"What's So Private?"

Prior to the weekend that we spent together on my birthday, the only time that Desmond and I had spent together was talking on the phone. We would talk almost every night around ten o'clock, after he completed his work on the warehouse floor. After that, he would retire to his office to complete any receiving orders in the computer or respond to email. After that magical weekend, things basically went back to the way they had always been, which was fine with me because talking only on the phone alleviated the pressure of trying to resist temptation.

"So, how did your boyfriend make up for not spending your birthday with you?" Desmond asked me.

"He bought me a motorcycle," I responded, casually.

"Wow!"

Desmond was impressed, not because Maurice bought me a bike, but because I actually knew how to ride one.

"You know, as much as we talk, there is still so much that I don't know about you," he commented.

"Well, that allows me to keep my title as 'Queen of the Night,'" I joked. "I can't tell you all of my secrets. If I do that, I'll lose my intrigue and your interest."

He laughed. "Not likely. There's enough intrigue in you to keep me satisfied for a long time. And besides, your mystique is not what attracts me to you, anyway."

"Oh, really? Then what is it?"

"Your intelligence, your listening ear, and your charming disposition," was his response. "It's these nightly conversations that bring me back to work every night."

"Well, my game must be really tight if I can give a man desire to get up and go to work, everyday. That desire's usually motivated by necessity or greed. That's deep."

After a short pause, Desmond spoke again. "What's deeper is how hard it's becoming to stay away, especially since we only got to spend time together for the first time a couple of weeks ago. Your birthday weekend was like a hit of crack. Now, I want more. Hell, I even drove by your house last night."

"Why didn't you stop?" I wanted to know.

"Because I saw a BMW parked in your driveway. I figured it was Maurice so I kept driving. I don't want to be the author of confusion between you two. He doesn't even know I exist, does he?"

"Nope," I answered, dryly. "And you're not the author of any confusion between us. He is. He spends every waking moment at that damned shop. It's usually twelve or one o'clock before he gets here, if at all. He says he's doing it for us. And as far as him knowing anything about you, he would actually have to be here during a decent hour to hear the phone ring; much less know who I'm talking to. Humph, I try to be content because I've been with him so long there's no need to complain. After all, I asked for him."

Desmond sighed. "I don't like to hear you talk like that. You sound miserable. I know that I'm the last one to be making promises to you, but I want you to know that I'm here for you whenever you need me. You know if you need anything, you can always call on me, right?"

I was slightly taken aback. He was right. He was the last person to be making promises to me. He was married.

"De, I don't understand something. How is it that you were able to spend a whole weekend at Wrightsville Beach with me and not be missed? I mean I know she probably thought that you were still away on business, but how do you account for the additional time? When you left Saturday morning, I thought you just made up an excuse to go home and check in. And that's cool. You have to do whatever to keep the peace in your house, but then you came back. I know it's probably none of my business, but I just want to know. What's going on between you two?"

He was reluctant. "I really don't feel that this is a good time to discuss my marital problems. I'll just say that every couple has problems, and they all handle their situations differently."

_What the hell does that mean?_ What's so private? If she was cheating on him, what was the big deal? That kind of thing happened all the time. Hell, he was cheating on her. But apparently, there was more to it than them just not getting along anymore. Maybe he had her tied up and gagged in the basement, or something. That would be about right, the way my luck ran with men.

"You two don't have any children, right?" I asked, cautiously. He was going to tell me something.

"No, she's never been able to carry one past twenty-eight weeks."

"Oh." I didn't know what else to say. He obviously was not going to proceed with this conversation any further. In a last ditch effort, I said to him, "I know that you said that you didn't want to discuss this, but don't you think I have a right to know why I'm helping you cheat on your wife?"

"I'm not cheating on my wife. You and I have continued to remain friends and nothing further before, during, and after our little weekend together, haven't we?"

"Well, not exactly. We haven't slept together, but we have lain in the same bed and we've kissed. That may not have amounted to much to you, but let's face it. I don't think your wife would have appreciated knowing that her husband was spending that kind of time with another woman, no matter how platonic you try to make it sound. And better yet, how would you feel if the shoe was on the other foot?"

Desmond was getting agitated. "Well, what would Maurice say?"

_Ouch._ "We're not talking about Maurice."

"And we're not talking about me, either. Besides, I haven't heard any complaints about my so-called infidelity until now."

"And I'm not complaining now. It's just amazing that a man as sincere and genuine as you would seem to have a problem holding together his own marriage. And because I think so much of you as a person, it kind of taints the image that I have of you. It makes me feel like a woman who's defending her man to justify their affair, when she really just needs to wake up and get her own man."

The tension was mounting. "I see. I didn't realize you felt that way," Desmond said, curtly.

I tried to clean it up, but it was already too late. "Look, Des. I know that you are a good man and I would like to think that you would never do anything intentionally to hurt anyone, and that includes your wife and me. But, let's be for real. You have a wife already, but you're spending time with me that you should be spending with her. It would just make me feel better to know that I didn't have a distorted view of the situation."

Desmond became defensive. "Oh, I get it. You want me to give you some sugarcoated excuse about why I have chosen to spend time with you rather than my wife to pacify your guilty conscience about lusting after a married man. Well, I got news for you, Ericka. She's not cheating on me, okay? She's never cheated on me. She is a better wife than I could ever have hoped for. We're not in a contract marriage, nor did our parents arrange it a long time ago. She didn't marry me for my money or I for hers, and she didn't trick me into believing that she was pregnant and then fake a miscarriage. So, if you would like to continue our friendship, I suggest you find another way to soothe your guilty conscience instead of nagging me all the time about the details of my marriage!"

"Damn, Desmond. I didn't mean to..."

"Yeah, I know. Look, I need to hang up, now. Bye, Ericka." And he was gone.

_What did I say?_ All I asked was what was going on between him and his wife. That was a perfectly fair question. The way he talked at first suggested that he might have a long-term interest in me. All I wanted to do was find out what the beef was between him and Mrs. Wright. I had a right to know why he suddenly chose to spend his free time with me rather than with her. And I didn't see anything wrong with trying to soothe my guilty conscience. And I couldn't help it if he didn't have one. Hurt and disillusioned, I hung up the phone, lay back and closed my eyes.

The phone must have rung in the middle of the night because I could hear Desmond on the other end talking in a low, muffled voice. He was apologizing and telling me that he wanted to come over and explain everything. I told him that everything was fine and that I wasn't mad at him for hanging up on me. He told me that everything was going to be all right, now and that he had taken care of everything. I asked him what he was talking about, but he just kept telling me that he was coming over and to be awake when I got there. He hung up before I could protest.

I'm not sure how he got in. I just remember him climbing in bed next to me. He kissed my lips passionately, and I immediately succumbed to his touch. When he entered my hot flesh, my whole body shivered with ecstasy. He made love to me, urgently, thrusting in and out, up and down, faster and faster. As both of our bodies shuddered in feverish climax, I heard a single gunshot. I screamed as Desmond's body lurched in pain and then lay still on top of me.

The room was pitch black, but I could see the evil in her face while she kneeled over me, shoving the barrel of her .380 between my chattering teeth.

"Did you really think that filing some divorce papers would get rid of me?" she hissed.

I lay there, terrified into silence. I prayed a silent prayer of repentance and braced for impact. Instead, she snatched the gun out of my mouth and violently clubbed me over my frontal lobe. I winced in pain. She was going to make me suffer. I screamed loud enough to wake up Desmond, but he just lay on top of me, motionless.

Maurice shook me like a rag doll as I continued to scream, uncontrollably. "Ericka, wake up, baby! What's wrong? Come on, baby, wake up!"

I balled up my fists and unconsciously began to pound Maurice, in a desperate attempt to fend off Desmond's wife's maniacal rampage.

"It's okay, E! I'm right here. I won't let anyone hurt you. Come on baby. Calm down. Reese is right here, boo. Shhh..."

He wrapped his arms securely around me and began to rock me, soothingly. He buried me in his chest, put his face in my hair, and began to talk low and soothing, as if calming a colicky baby. I stopped screaming, but still shook like a leaf as I held on to Maurice for dear life. It had only been a dream.

I sulked around the house most of the morning trying to avoid making eye contact with Maurice. He was completely taken off guard by my little episode and was frantic to know what I was dreaming about that would make me lose my mind like that. I really wasn't interested in going into the gory details about my nightmare, nor did I want to give him any details about my 'friendship' with Desmond that might allude to how I really spent my birthday. So, I blew it off by saying I couldn't remember what I was dreaming about and said I was okay. He didn't seem satisfied with that answer but reluctantly dropped the issue at my request.

I thought about paging Desmond, but decided against it. He really got pissed off at me for making inquiries about his marriage and I thought that I just needed to leave well enough alone. I walked around the rest of the day in a quiet funk.

I tried to make sense out of the terrible dream that I'd had the night before. It was so real. I thought I could actually feel her hot breath on my face as she held that gun to my head. I couldn't remember having a more vivid dream.

_Why did I dream that?_ Until then, all my dreams about Desmond were full of passion and fire, not murder and mayhem. In those dreams, I was able to live out fantasies that our reality kept us from. Many times I was jerked away by the overwhelming lust that consumed me when he entered my dreams, but never had I been snatched back to reality overcome by fear. My mind must have been working overtime as a result of the guilt I carried around about carrying on this forbidden friendship in the first place.

Or maybe the reality was that she really was an insanely jealous woman who would kill us both if she became aware of what was going on between us. Maybe he felt us getting too close and started an argument so she wouldn't find out about us and come looking for me. Whatever was going on between the two of them, he obviously had no intention of telling me what it was. And in the wake of the worst nightmare I'd ever had, I resented being placed in a potentially dangerous situation without the courtesy of a forewarning.

As much as I cared for Desmond, I wasn't sure if I was anxious to keep being friends with him if he continued to be so secretive about his home life. Besides, I was already putting my own relationship on the line by flirting with the possibility of an impending affair. Things were not perfect between Maurice and me, but I had come too far to lose him over a relationship with a married man who couldn't even divulge what was making him cheat on his wife.

Chapter 19

"Now, that's Game!"

More than a week went by and still no word from Desmond. Things had since gone back to normal at my house. Tomika had returned from her vacation with my parents, and I had returned back to work. Apparently, the nightmare I had about Desmond scared Maurice almost as much as it scared me. He had begun to stay a lot closer to home since that night, and he had cut his day at the shop a lot closer. Rarely did he come home after nine or ten, now. He still acted like his normal self, but he prowled around the house after Tomika and I went to bed, like a lion watching over his pride. He fell asleep at night next to me but he began to wake up in the middle of the night and go watch television in the other room, so he wouldn't wake me. Maurice's prowling was interrupting my otherwise sound sleep.I could often feel him staring at me when he would do one of his frequent checks on me while he was up.

I had to admit that it was nice to finally receive this attention from Maurice that I deserved, but his over protectiveness was beginning to grate my nerves. I really wasn't used to him being around all the time and had grown used to taking care of everyday tasks around the house, myself. Now all of a sudden, I was practically tripping over him. Everywhere I looked he was there, trying to wash clothes or putting all the dishes away in the wrong cabinets. He was driving me insane, but it was nice to have him around. I thought about feigning more nightmares to keep him close to home.

It wasn't until almost two weeks later that I figured out his real motives for watching over me. Maurice came in the house early one evening while I was on the phone talking to Toy. I was on the cordless phone in the kitchen taking a pan of brownies out of the oven for dessert.

"Oh, Toy, Maurice just came in the door. Let me call you back," I said, hurrying her off the phone.

"Sup, Baby?" I asked, as I stood on my tiptoes to give him a peck on the nose.

"Humph. Ain't nothing. What's up with you?"

The crease in his forehead let me know that something was amiss.

"What's wrong with you?" I asked him, returning to my preparation.

"Who is Dee?"

I stopped what I was doing and returned his frown.

"Dee who?"

"Well, who is Desmond, then?"

My heart dropped in my drawers. I played it off, but my mind was going a mile a minute.

"Desmond Wright? Oh, that's a friend of mine from Global Technology. Why?"

Maurice eyed me, suspiciously.

"Has that nigga been over here?" His voice was slightly raised, which was extremely uncharacteristic for Maurice, who was normally quite easy-going.

I was determined to hold it down. I wasn't sure what he was driving at, but there was no way he was going to get away with accusing me of anything, when I could never account for his whereabouts with any certainty.

"Why? You gonna start coming around more to keep him away?" I sneered.

"So, you had a nigga up in here behind my back?" He was growing more agitated by the second.

I laughed. "You are trippin'."

"Don't try to play me, Ericka," he growled. "Just answer the damn question."

I took the defensive. "Look, don't be coming up in here accusing me of shit when all I do is go to work and come home. You're the one keeping all the late hours. Do you think if I was screwing someone else I would bring them up in here when you got a key? At least gimme some credit for having half of a fucking brain!"

Maurice was pissing me off. Here I was thinking that he had been concerned about me, when he was really concerned about whether or not I had been sleeping with someone else.

But what was it that was fueling this fire? Desmond and I hadn't spoken in almost two weeks. I hadn't heard from him since we had that argument. I racked my brain trying to figure out what Maurice actually knew. If he had found out about my beach trip, I could kiss my ass goodbye. I wasn't prepared for what came next.

"Well, maybe if you turned that half of a fucking brain off before you went to bed at night, you wouldn't be calling out other niggas' names in your sleep!" Maurice was livid.

I winced at his last comment as though someone stole me in the face. No, this couldn't be right. I couldn't be talking in my sleep. Maurice had even joked about holding a mirror under my nose at night to make sure I was still alive. I always slept very sound and quiet. Other than that outburst I had when I had that nightmare, I didn't even breathe heavily most of the time. Now, here I was being accused of calling out another man's name in my sleep. There must have been some kind of mistake.

I attempted to play it off while I tried to think of a way to climb out of the hole that I had dug for myself.

"What the hell are you talking about, Maurice?"

"Ericka, you are really pissing me off with the innocent shit. I'm not stupid, hear?"

Calmly, I replied, "I didn't say nothing about you being stupid, but wouldn't you say it was stupid to accuse somebody of something and not fill them in on what it was?"

"Okay, since you gonna continue to play dumb, here it is. That night you had that nightmare I heard you mumbling something like, 'Come in, Dee,' like you were inviting him in or something. A couple of minutes later, you started screaming like somebody was killing you in here, or something. But then when I tried to get you to tell me what had got you so upset, you wouldn't tell me. I wasn't sure if you had actually said 'Dee' or not, but I knew that if I stayed awake beside you long enough, you were going to say something else. That's why I started coming over here early, so I could be here when your ass went to bed. I knew you were gonna start talking again, or that nigga was gonna call here, one."

I stood by mute, as he continued.

"A couple of nights ago, you said that name again. It was clearer this time. I heard you plain as day. Then last night while you were sleeping, some dude named Desmond called the house asking for you. I guess 'Dee' is short for Desmond, huh?"

I ignored that last comment.

"And? What did he say?"

"He didn't say nothing, but to tell you he called and he would call you back later."

"Is that all?" I asked, trying to appear unaffected.

"Hell no, that ain't all. I'm about to break your fucking neck unless you can come up with a good reason why I shouldn't think you screwing around with somebody else when you calling out a nigga's name in your sleep that's calling this house!"

For a minute, he almost had me. But Maurice played himself by talking too much. He had given me all the ammunition I needed to counter his attack.

If dealing with lying, cheating ass men all my life had done anything at all; it has helped me to develop my poker face. My daughter's father used to look me dead in the eye and lie so good that I was constantly second guessing my own better judgment. Even when I caught him in the bed with another woman, he insisted that his intention was not even to have sex with her. He was so convincing, I almost believed him. I didn't, but I forgave him. Now, that's game.

I looked at Maurice while he elaborated on how he sat up in the middle of the night waiting on me to confess my infidelities in my sleep. He was pathetic. For the last six years, I did everything in my power to show him how much I didn't want anybody else but him. And after all this time, it was still a full-time job. And the way I still had to beg him to take me out, as well as compete with the boys at the shop for all of his time, shouldn't it had been me accusing him of sleeping with someone else? He was the one who never had time for me, yet he had the nerve to accuse me of stepping out on him. I was, but we wouldn't even be having these problems, if he took care of his business at home.

I looked Maurice square in the eye and said, "I met Desmond a whole year before I met you. If there was something going on between me and him, why the hell am I still hanging around here after six years taking shit off of you?"

"I hadn't seen Desmond in about eight months. And when I did finally see him, I was at my old job visiting a couple of girls I used to be cool with."

"And on top of that, Desmond is happily married, and has been since way before I knew anything about him. So, if I'm always tripping about you never having enough time to spend with me and you're supposed to be my man, then what sense would it make for me to take some leftovers from a married woman? You sound so stupid."

I rolled my eyes in disgust while Maurice fiddled for a response.

"Oh, so what you saying? You got a thing for him, but instead of sleeping with him, you just dream about him?"

He was determined to be right.

"Why do you think that all I have to do is sit around here and be love sick because my man don't want to spend no time with me? Do you think that my life revolves around an orgasm? I don't get all up in your business and ask you about all the tricks that hang around the shop that I know ain't spending no money. Nor do I say anything about the ones that are always beeping in on your Nextel. Hell, what are they doing with that number, anyway? I don't even have that!"

"But since you must know, the last time I talked to Desmond, he told me that someone who was really close to him was murdered. They found him in a vacant parking lot in Atlanta with two shots to the back of his head, slumped over the steering wheel."

I turned my head away for effect. Maurice knew that shootings had a great impact on me since my high school sweetheart was gunned down right in front of me at a club we used to frequent close to the end of our senior year. He had accidentally bumped into a guy on the dance floor earlier that evening and the guy was ejected from the building after making a scene. As we were on our way out, the gunman approached my boyfriend from behind as he held the car door for me to get in. I can still hear him gurgling as he drowned in his own blood waiting for the paramedics to get there. His killer was never caught.

As for Desmond's friend, well, he really didn't exist. The person who died was actually a guy that I had read about in the paper a couple of days prior. So, I didn't lie about the incident, I just doubted that Desmond knew the victim, who by the way, was from Georgia, not in Georgia. The incident actually happened here. At any rate, my half-truth worked and Maurice began to soften.

I continued.

"I really couldn't remember what I was dreaming about, but I figure that the story about his friend being shot must have stayed in my subconscious. And it didn't take a genius to figure out that I was having a nightmare that night, not a wet dream."

Maurice hung his head in shame.

"My bad, E. I was wrong. I know you still think about your boy sometimes. I know you won't ever forget seeing that. Stuff like that stays with you. I'm sorry I came off on you like that. And you did scare the hell out of me. And I'm sorry about his friend, too. That's rough."

He lifted up my chin and looked at me expectantly.

"You forgive me?"

I stared back into his beautiful, brown face. I had long since grown accustomed to the scar that consumed its entire left side. I considered it to be his beauty mark. His apologetic gaze dripped with sincerity. I almost felt bad about lying to him. But it was going to take more than an apology and a puppy dog look to make up for those accusations.

"Yes, I forgive you. But you know I don't want anyone else. And you know what you need to do for things to be all right with us. What's wrong with you? You sneaking around here like Deputy Dawg, or somebody, trying to create some bullshit. What? You got a guilty conscience?"

"Naw, baby. I just don't want you to go out and be with somebody else because you think I'm cheating on you. You know I ain't nowhere but at the shop with the boys or I'm hustling trying to get this paper. Don't you always get me when you call me? I keep telling you that you don't have nothing to worry about. I'm not going nowhere."

That was the problem. He wasn't going anywhere; at least with me, anyway.

"I know that, Reese. But why you always have to be at the shop with them fools? You act like you like them better than me. We can't ever do anything because you always put what they want in front of what I want. I'm tired of doing things by myself. And when I'm out, men approach me and want to know if I have a man. I might as well say 'no.'"

He looked at me, thoughtfully.

"Is that what you want to tell them, E.?"

"No, but if things don't change, we both need to start doing something different."

He sighed.

"Look, I'm feeling what you saying, babe. But, It's gonna take some time for me to let go of them streets. You know what I'm sayin'? It's in my blood, baby. But I will try harder, okay?"

"That's all I ask," I said, mentally patting myself on the back for successfully averting a potential disaster.

"I gotta go back to the shop and tie up some loose ends, but I'll be back before ten. Do you need something while I'm out?"

"No. I'm straight for right now. You want to take a plate with you back to the shop?"

"Nah. I'll eat when I get back."

"Okay. Be careful out there."

"Alright," he said.

He gave me a quick peck on the lips and he was gone.

Whew. That was too damn close. I laughed out loud in spite of myself. Maurice came over with the intention of confronting me about an indiscretion. But in less than ten minutes I had him apologizing. I've been told that you should always learn from your mistakes. Getting involved with Tomika's father was probably the biggest one I ever made, but I swear, sometimes his bullshit came in handy. In addition to the mistake, being with Lance turned out to be one of the greatest learning experiences I ever had.

As I set the table, I couldn't help but wonder if Maurice was really going back to the shop to work. Maybe that was just the player in me.

So, Desmond finally decided to take his ass off his shoulders and stop being mad at me, huh? He probably thought that he had caused some drama between Maurice and me, and was waiting for me to call when the coast was clear. Well, I wasn't exactly through being pissed off at him, either, so I decided to give him a couple more days to get over himself. I still had no clue what had actually set him off, and I hadn't decided which way to approach him. I set two places at the table, while plotting my next move and thinking to myself what a shame it was that no matter how hard some folks tried to avoid drama, it always seem to lay down at their feet.

I was beginning to resent Maurice more and more for keeping me on this emotional roller coaster. I resented him for making me lie on the only man that I felt truly loved me. I met my high school sweetheart, Kevin shortly after his family relocated here from New York and then settled down two doors down from my house after the end of our sixth grade year. We became best friends and were virtually inseparable from the time we met during a chance encounter at the park across the street from my house where we played basketball. We were close like brother and sister and became an official couple the summer after our eighth grade year.

It was the ideal relationship because somehow we were still able to remain best friends even after making a decision to date. He never pushed the issue about having sex like all the rest of my friends' boyfriends and he didn't treat me like a girl. He treated me like I was his equal. We still played basketball at the court after school everyday and we played dominoes and practiced break dance routines we made up together like always. There was nothing weird about dating my best friend. The only thing we did different was hold hands and kiss.

Kevin's New York accent made him sound worldly and exotic. And he carried himself very grown-up and was somewhat of a wise guy, which was very appealing to all the young girls who liked the roughneck type. But despite his streetwise personality, he was a complete gentleman.He stopped by my house to walk me to school everyday and he carried my books. He even saved his lunch for me on pizza day because I had the late lunch period and the cafeteria usually ran out of pizza before I could get through the line.

He respected my parents and never came to our house unless they were home. And he never let me miss curfew even if we both wanted to stay out a little later. He said as long as we proved we could be trusted, our time together would never be limited. And he was right. My parents loved him and gave him the same run of the house that they gave my girlfriends.

Since we spent every waking moment together in high school we decided to give each other a break and go to different colleges just to be free to experience life without strings attached. Kevin was accepted into NYU where he was to be a mathematics major and I received a full academic scholarship to study business at Syracuse. We decided that we would pursue careers in New York and get married after graduation.

We made the perfect team. But when he was murdered just two weeks before graduation, I forfeited my scholarship and joined the army one week after my eighteenth birthday. I knew he would've wanted me to go to college, but I just didn't see any reason to go to New York without him. I guess I made the snap decision to join the military to run away from my grief. I immersed myself in being a soldier and chose to be a medic to drown my sorrows in other people's physical pain. I also felt guilty for not knowing how to help Kevin when he was shot. All I could do was just lie on top of him screaming at him not to die.

I never talked about Kevin to anyone for years after he died. I wouldn't even talk to my parents or my friends. In fact, the only person I ever told was Maurice. Natalie knew because we've been friends since high school but if she told any of the rest of the girls, they must have been forewarned not to mention it to me, because they never have.

When I finally got to a point where I could move on, I scared away a lot of men because I always compared them to Kevin. He was the only real boyfriend that I ever had, and once you've had the best it's very hard to settle for sloppy seconds. Lance watched me turn down half the guys on base before he finally made his move. I believe that he and some of the others made a bet to see if he could win me over. He was so patient. Even when I told him that I wasn't interested in having a relationship he kept coming around. He became my best friend. I finally had someone that I could relate to like Kevin. I knew he couldn't replace Kevin, but it felt so good to have that kind of friend in my life again. Slowly, Lance won me over and for the first time in almost four years, I could finally see happiness on my horizon.

Lance and I went half on season tickets to the Lakers' games. We played basketball together on Saturdays and took our cars to the car wash and spent hours getting them shined up just like a pair of homies. We ran together every evening after work. I introduced him to reading good books and he taught me how to hook up stereo equipment in cars.Dare I say we became inseparable just as Kevin and I had been?

Everything was going well, but he wanted to take our relationship to the next level. I wasn't so sure because I wasn't totally done grieving for my first love. But I didn't want to tell Lance why I was holding back and risk losing his friendship. Since I couldn't come up with a better excuse not to, against my better judgment, I slept with him.

I was a virgin and really hadn't stopped to think about contraception. Kevin and I had pretty much decided to wait until we were married and that was it. And Lance and I never discussed it because he didn't care how he got it; he just wanted to get it. Condoms had not been on his list of conversation topics.

Needless to say, I got pregnant with Tomika the first time we were together and Lance turned against me. He told me that it was my fault that I got pregnant and he accused me of trying to trap him.

After he destroyed what little bit of self-esteem I had left, he moved on and acted like neither one of us ever existed. He got out of the service six months after Tomika was born to avoid paying child support. And I got out later that year and went home having disgraced my family as well as the name of my late boyfriend. I felt as though I had failed at life in general.

I was able to put my life back together with some much needed counseling and love and support from my family and friends. I thought I was pretty stable when I met Maurice and since I really had had enough of men to last me a lifetime, I was okay with he and I just being friends at his suggestion.

Truthfully, Maurice's scar was an attraction because it made him look vulnerable and harmless. And Maurice was not just quiet. He acted so meek and shy when we first met, like he didn't want to be noticed. It was like he kept his loud arrogant friends in the forefront to make sure nobody noticed him, even though he was the one with the business, the nice car, bike, and clothes. I got the feeling that he had been wounded emotionally by other people like I had, so I immediately felt safe like I wouldn't have to worry about him hurting me because he knew first hand what hurt felt like. Now, six years later I feel like he has been too busy trying to keep from getting hurt again or trying to cover up hurt that's already there to notice how much pain he's been causing me.

Chapter 20

"Absolutely No Parallel Parking!"

My car had been giving me problems the previous week. I could start the engine, but it hesitated at stoplights and going up hills. I had put fuel injector cleaner in it at Maurice's request, thinking that would help, but by this morning, black smoke had begun billowing from the tail pipe. After narrowly reaching the safety of my office parking lot, I went in to work and immediately called Maurice.

"Good morning, Sunshine," I said, sweetly.

"Mornin'," he said in his husky, early morning voice. I could hear the smile on his face and I could tell he was blushing.

"You still in bed?"

"Naw. I've already been to the shop and to Durham to pick up two sets of tires."

He sounded so cute in the morning.

"Wow! Business is booming. That's right, Daddy. You better make me some money." I teased.

He laughed. "I think I might make you a little bit, today. How much do you want?"

"I am not going to be greedy," I answered. "Can I just get enough to buy a new car? It doesn't even have to be brand new. I'll even take a certified pre-owned."

The seriousness came back into his voice.

"Your truck still tripping?"

"Yes. Now there's black smoke coming out the back," I replied, pitifully.

He paused. "Did you drive it this morning?"

"Yeah."

Another pause.

"I'm going to give Mr. Frank a call this morning. Can you get one of your girls to follow you so you can drop it off to him? Because I won't have a chance to come and get it until later."

"Yeah, I'll get Toy to do it. We were supposed to have lunch today, anyway."

"That'll work. After you drop the car off, have her to take you by Hot Wheelz and get my car so you can have something to drive until yours is ready. Then I'll take you back to Mr. Frank's to pick it up. That sound cool with you?"

Was it cool? I was going to get to roll in the 740 with the brand new rims, not to mention the new system he had just put in with a DVD player in the front console. I would say that was very cool.

"Yeah, that's cool," I said, trying to stifle my enthusiasm. But, I couldn't fool him.

"I'll meet you at the shop at 5:30, sharp, so that's more than enough time for you to make it to the shop from work. Don't have none of your cluck head friends in my car. Don't be messing with the settings on my radio, and absolutely no parallel parking!"

I rolled my eyes upward.

"Yeah, yeah. Who do you think you're talking to, Tomika, or somebody?" I asked, indignantly.

"I wouldn't have to give Tomika this type of instruction because she knows how to act," he said.

"Whatever," I balked.

The only thing Maurice loved more than that car was Lil' Reese and Tomika.

Chapter 21

"Just my Luck"

I could hardly wait for five o'clock to come so I could go for a joyride in the BMW.I had to pick a few things up from the store, so I called Reese to let him know I was going to be a couple of minutes off schedule. That way he wouldn't be trying to report the car stolen before I got there. I knew he would be timing me from the moment I left work until the time I pulled up to the shop.

Just as I suspected, his truck was not out front because he hadn't made it back to the shop yet. When I called him on his mobile phone, he was actually nowhere near the shop. He was on the other side of town having some rims put on a customer's car, and it would be another hour before he would make it back. Lucky for me, it was Tomika's Girl Scout meeting that day, so I called Renee to let her know that I might be late coming to pick Tomika up from her house, where the meeting would be held.

Renee was cool with that, so I ran my errands and made a couple of laps around town to kill time before meeting up with Maurice back at Hot Wheelz. It had been in my original plan to ride around and be seen a little bit, but my plan was thwarted by the lack of people out and about. Even on a late summer afternoon when most folks are getting off work and most street entrepreneurs are just waking up, nobody seemed to be out. _Just my luck_ , I thought.

When I arrived back at the shop, I understood why nobody was out on the street. The party was apparently at Hot Wheelz. There were probably six or seven cars in the parking lot. I recognized Will's Range Rover and Tarik's Lexus, but I didn't know who any of the other cars belonged to. Normally, I don't go inside the shop when there are a bunch of guys hanging around because it can get uncomfortable being the only female in the place. And also, Maurice doesn't know I know it, but he doesn't really like for me to hang out there that much. But since Tarik and Will were there and I had nowhere else to go, I went in to wait. They were probably in the back shooting dice or playing cards, so I could just go into Maurice's office and finish up an organization project that I had started earlier in the month for him.

The door to the shop was locked, signaling the fact that a dice game was going on in the rear of the building. I knocked, and Tarik poked his head from around the corner. He stood in the door for a minute, mute, sporting a cheesy, lopsided grin as I yelled at him from outside to open the door. The goofy act only lasted a few seconds, and he opened the door and hugged me.

"Get off me, fool," I laughed, hitting him in the arm. "It's hot as hell out here and you playing."

"What's up, Baby Girl?"He looked out the window over my shoulder. "I thought your husband was with you."

I rolled my eyes. "My husband? Please. Maurice is out on Capital Blvd. putting some rims on somebody's car. I'm not sure where my husband is. But I'm waiting for Reese to come and get me and take me to my truck."

"Where is your truck?" he wanted to know.

"At Mr. Frank's. Spark plug went bad in it."

"Oh, ok. That Negro let you drive his precious vehicle?" It even sounded incredulous to his best friend that he would let me drive that damned car. "You wearing that man down, E," he laughed.

"Is that right? I can't tell," I said.

"Well, he called a few minutes ago and said he'd be here in about fifteen minutes."

You would think that Maurice and Tarik were in a relationship. He never thought to call me, who was sitting here waiting on him because that was my job. It would have been pointless to mention any of this to Tarik, so I made a joke, instead.

"Alright. Don't y'all hoodlums be back there tearing down my man's place of business. This is how he keeps me in Prada, Fendi, Gucci, and them," I joked.

Tarik laughed. "I got them under control back there, E. Middle. You know I'm gonna keep my boy's best interest at heart."

I nodded and went into Maurice's office and closed the door. I turned on the CD player. As R. Kelly began asking me about getting up on a room, I wondered why the hell a man would be listening to TP-2 during the course of any workday. I shook the devil off, and pulled out a stack of invoices to add up the charges.

Hot Wheelz' sales had been off the chart that whole month and I had been unofficially hired as Reese's accounts receivable person. I was in charge of filing invoices, entering his sales into the computer, and making bank deposits. Maurice stayed so busy during the day that he actually needed someone in the office at least three times a week to be there while he took care of all the field work. Sometimes he rode around for days with bank deposits in his car. That's not safe, so I finally volunteered one day to come in and do it for him a couple of times a week. He keeps them locked up in the file cabinet and I keep the key. As I approached the file cabinet to unlock the drawer, I began to hear a great commotion going on in the front part of the shop.

Startled, I cracked the door and peered outside. I was used to guys talking loud and yelling when they won, but there was absolutely no arguing and fighting. And you'd definitely better not tear up anything. Maurice would not stand for it.

There were two guys involved in a shouting match. Tarik was standing in between them in a seemingly futile attempt at preventing them from tearing one another apart. There was so much commotion, I couldn't make out completely what was going on, so the argument wasn't making too much sense. All I was really sure of was that somehow one of the guys felt cheated and there was apparently five thousand dollars in the pot. The confrontation spilled out onto the showroom floor and Tarik was doing his best to diffuse the situation, while Will moved everyone else outside.

' _Dammit!'_ I thought to myself. This day was just getting better and better. I had been in this place a thousand times, but never had I seen anyone show out in here like this. Sometimes the guys got into heated discussions about stupid stuff, but it was usually one of their trivial barbershopesque discussions. Maurice didn't have any type of foolishness in his place. All the boys had mad respect for him. And besides, they knew he had a gun. And even though Maurice was pretty laid back and mild mannered, I don't think anybody really wanted to find out whether or not he would use it. However, this was a different story. Maurice was not here to exude his strong, silent authority, and I wasn't even sure if he knew these clowns who were squared off in the front of his business. A tussle ensued and one of the guys was deliberately tossed into a glass display case. The sound of glass shattering reverberated throughout the room, and for a split second everything seemed frozen in time.

Tarik, who had been the only rational person in the group, began to lose control.

"Man, what the fuck is wrong with y'all?" he yelled. "How you gonna come up in here and tear up my boy's shop? Take this shit outside. Now!" His voice was high pitched and strained.

The aggressor of the fight got up in Tarik's face. He spoke in an even tone that sent a shiver down my spine.

"Nigga, fuck you and your boy. I want my motherfuckin' money or I'm about to break more than that goddamned display case."

While the fallen brother attempted to recover, I decided that now would be a good time to make a break for the door. Maybe I could just slip right past them and no one would notice me. Tarik didn't seem to remember that I was in the office. But, the fight stood in my way of safety. ' _Where the hell was Maurice?_ ' I thought, as I tried to maneuver towards the door as discreetly as possible. Tarik and I made eye contact as I passed between the two adversaries amid the broken glass, but didn't say anything. I detected a faint look of relief on his face as I made my way to the door.

Just as I passed between the two guys, the shop door opened and Maurice entered. I was both mad as hell and elated to see him at once. As he crossed the threshold into the shop, a look of utter disbelief came over his face. I knew he was furious. I wanted to tell him to let the insurance company worry about it, but he wasn't hearing it right then. He was yelling something at me, but it was drowned out by the sound of a small explosion that came out of nowhere behind me.

An intense white-hot sensation ripped through the flesh of my right leg, stopping me in my tracks. I opened my mouth to scream, but before I could get the sound out, another pain stabbed me in my left shoulder blade. The ground came rushing forward, but Maurice broke my fall. Although there was a fire raging in my leg and back, my body felt cold and limp. Maurice's mouth was moving frantically, but I couldn't make out the words. An expression of complete horror had taken over his face. I asked him why he was looking at me like that. I tried to tell him that everything would be okay, but he didn't hear me; or he didn't believe me...

Chapter 22

(Maurice)

Mo' Money, Mo' Problems

I was supposed to meet E. at the shop so I could take her to Mr. Frank's to pick up her car, but I got tied up trying to put some rims on a customer's car. I actually took my time coming back because I knew she probably wouldn't be there when I got there. E. had been dying for a chance to drive my car. And since I had just finished pimping it out with some new chrome 22's and some new boom in the system, I knew she was going to want to high side around town being seen. I just told her that I wanted her to come straight to the shop after work because if I don't give her any time constraints with my vehicle, I'll be stuck taking the CAT bus home. But really, I don't mind her driving it since most of Raleigh knows my car and if she's driving it, people know not to approach her. And driving my car makes her feel like a mini-baller, and she likes that. And when she's happy, then I'm happy.

I just knew she was going to be at the car wash or somewhere where a lot of people were hanging, so I was kind of surprised to see my car pulled up in front of the shop. There were a bunch of other vehicles out front too so that made it even more strange because E. can't stand a crowd of dudes especially the ones that hang out at Hot Wheelz.

There were a bunch of cats standing outside, but everybody was looking in the shop window not saying anything. They were just standing there looking crazy.

I saw Will, and walked over to him.

"What's the deal?" I asked him, puzzled.

Will seemed troubled. "Man, some niggas went to blows in the shop about some money. They in there tearing up shit. I just got everybody outside, and Tarik is in there trying to break it up."

My heart started pounding.

"Man, where's my girl?"

Will shrugged. "I ain't seen her. Why?"

I pointed to my car parked right at the door.

"She's driving my car!"

I burst through the door just in time to see Ericka trying to ease her way past the two guys squared off in the middle of the floor. There was glass all over the place and one of the guys was laying on the floor in the middle of what used to be my large display case, like a turtle turned over on his back. Tarik was standing between them and was watching Ericka as she maneuvered carefully towards the door.

Tarik turned in my direction as I came in. He didn't say anything, but I could tell that his main concern was getting Ericka out of the middle of that conflict.

I couldn't believe what had gone down in my business while I was out. Tarik and Will were my boys, so I never had a problem shooting out to take care of business as long as one of them was there. I didn't have anybody to help me in the shop and I was out a lot, so it was easier to leave them there so at least there would be someone there to greet a customer if they came in. It's bad for business to have to close the shop every time I had to run out.

I wondered what started this whole mess. We had always played dice in the shop after I closed. At first, it started out as something we did for fun more than anything. The bets would be something small, a dollar here or five there. Then, as time went on, cats started putting their egos into it and the bets started growing. Niggas started walking out of my shop with thousands of dollars from a game of cee-lo, and I wouldn't have made a dime that day in legitimate business. So, I started taking a cut for the house. It's a decent chunk of change when business is slow.

But like Biggie used to say, "Mo' money, mo' problems." Word got around that all this money was flowing in my shop, and everybody trying to get paid. They think that I'm balling out of control just because they see some hot cars that be parked outside my shop. But if I had access to the kind of money that some of these cats that be hanging at the shop have, I would just open up me a casino in Vegas instead of letting them shoot dice in the back of my business and risk going to jail. One of my boys got robbed leaving the shop one night. I swear, people just lose their minds when a little money enters the picture. But other than a few minor scuffles, I hadn't had anybody just roll up in my place and act a complete fool; that is, until now.

I was kinda pissed because I wasn't cool with Ericka even being in Hot Wheelz with all those dudes in the first place. But I was livid when I saw how they tore up my shop. And to top it off, the cat laying on the floor was Kane, a small time hustler and petty thief that I didn't trust. Word on the street is that he was the one who pulled stick up outside of the shop a couple of months ago. And he knew that I knew it, too, so I don't even know where he got the nuts to waltz up in my shop from, anyway.

Me and Ericka locked eyes for a minute, but I didn't say nothing to her because I didn't want anything to hinder her from getting out of that shop. These dudes obviously didn't have no respect for me or my shop, so I know they didn't give a damn about my lady. This shit was about to get ugly, but I had to make sure E. Middle was out of harm's way, first.

As she approached the door, I stepped to the side to give her room to get out of the door. That's when I saw Kane go for his waist. Before I could move, he started blasting. He was trying to hit the other dude, but he dived for cover, and Erica got hit in the back of the leg. She froze and gave me this shocked look. I caught her as she went down from a second bullet she took in the back.

I held her tight and rocked her.

"Oh, my God! E. Middle, I'm so sorry. I'm sorry, E. I'm so sorry."

She was whispering something, but I couldn't hear her.

"Shhh. Don't try to talk, baby. You gonna be all right. I got you."

Kane was startled by the fact that he had shot E. instead of the dude he was fighting. In that split second pause, Tarik dived on top of him and punched Kane in the face. He grabbed the gun, got back to his feet and kicked that nigga in the head. Then he ran to the door.

"Will, call 9-1-1, man. E. is hit!"

The other cat had got out of the shop and was running through the parking lot.

He turned back to us.

"Is she breathing, man?

Erica didn't look too good. She was breathing heavy and fast like a panting dog. She wasn't trying to talk, anymore. Her eyes were closed and her skin was all clammy.

"Yeah, man," I said, "but she sound like it's hard for her." I was trying to keep cool, but I was scared that my baby was going to die right there in my arms.

"Will! Sonny! I need one of y'all to get in here and help, a'ight?"

Will and Sonny both came in the door, looking expectantly.

"Will, go back there and get some towels out the storage room and bring them back. Hurry up! Son, go outside and tell the boys to let him go. Let the police think he got away in the madness. Later on we'll pick the nigga up and take him for a ride."

Sonny grinned an evil grin. "Oh, fo' sho." Then he turned to Kane on the floor. "Don't worry punk. You gonna get to go, too." Sonny was the evil henchman in our crew. This nut was so far gone, that he would take care of our beef himself just to have something to get into. He was a scary dude, like Tupac's character, Bishop in "Juice."

Then he patted my shoulder. "Don't worry, man. She gonna be alright."

He looked at Kane.

"Man, I ought to fuck your ass up! But I got the go to the hospital and make sure my girl is okay. But, I'm coming for you. So, you better use that head start, wisely. Punk ass nigga."

Kane wasn't saying nothing. His head was still spinning from that last kick he got from Tarik.

Will came back with the towels and kneeled down beside Ericka and me.

Tarik spoke to me, again. "Turn her on her side a little bit, man. We got to put some pressure on the holes so she won't lose so much blood. Come on, man. It's gonna be alright."

I sat down completely on the floor and while Will helped me turn her on her side. Her head rested in my lap, while Sonny held the towel firmly against her back. Blood was pouring out of her like water coming out of a faucet. My nephew, Montez applied pressure to her leg. Tarik stood as a look out for the ambulance while he held the gun trained on Kane in case he breathed too hard.

Tarik looked at me. "Hey. Be strong, nigga. She gonna make it through. You got a ride or die chick."

He grinned.

"Boy, ain't nobody dying in here, today!"

I shook my head. "Man, I thought she was out riding around. That's why I took my time coming back." It was getting harder to hold back the tears.

"Stop tripping. You didn't know she was here. She got here after I talked to you on the phone. And I let Kane's punk ass stay once I found out he was here. I should have known his black ass was gonna start some trouble."

Fuck that bitch. I'm gonna handle him as soon as I make sure E. is gonna be alright." Talking about getting this punk back for shooting my girl took away my urge to cry. If E. Middle hadn't been laying motionless in my lap, I would have finished his punk ass right there before the police got there.

Sonny spoke again.

"Fuck that, Reese. I got his ass. You can't be catching no case over this fool. You got too much to lose. Besides, if you go to jail, where we gonna hang out at?"

I looked at this fool wondering if he knew how stupid he just sounded. If he went to the pen for killing either one of these clowns, didn't he realize that he wouldn't get to hang out here, either?

Having them talk regular like it was just an ordinary day was helping calm me down. I didn't have a chance to think about how long it was taking the ambulance to get there. My boys always came through for me in a crunch.

Tarik said, "Yo. The police is gonna be trying to shut your shit down for that dice game, man. So, when they get here, you don't say shit, alright? Just let me do all the talking. You just need to concentrate on being there for E. Middle."

I nodded, weakly.

Kane had started to come to. A knot had raised up on his head the size of a baseball and his eye was swollen shut.

Tarik kneeled beside him and got right in his face, nose to nose.

"And nigga, your statement better not include no dice game, either. Or I'm gonna scalp you, myself, punk."

The police bust through the door with guns drawn.

"Drop your weapon and get your hands up!"

Tarik put up his hands in surrender and bent over slowly to put the gun down.

"Officer, there's your shooter right there," he said, pointing at Kane. "I was holding this fool, so he wouldn't try to run."

The police looked at us, hesitantly.

"Yeah, man," I said, weakly. "That's his gun Tarik just put down. He ran up on him from behind after the second shot."

The other officer rushed over and put Kane in handcuffs. The first officer spoke again.

"What the hell's going on in here, fellas?"

I looked at Tarik and then back at the police.

"Man, I was out making a run for my business and when I walked in, this nigga right here and another dude was squared off in the middle of my store."

As I was speaking, the paramedics had pulled up and flew in to start working on Ericka. Tarik had to help them pry me away so they could get to her. I couldn't bring myself to let her go. It was my fault she was lying in my arms covered in blood in the first place. If I hadn't been so overprotective of that damn car, she would have still been out riding around while I was out on that job. Damn! Why did she have to pick today of all days to listen to anything I said?

I couldn't stand to see her laying there all helpless but I couldn't take my eyes off her. My lack of attention to her got her two bullets in her beautiful body. Blood was trickling out of her mouth and her skin was gray and ashy looking. I struggled to control the urge to smooth down her hair. My baby couldn't stand for her hair to be out of place.

As I stood by watching the medics do their thing, the lead cop walked up on me, again. He acted like he had an attitude.

"So, you are the owner of this establishment?" he asked, suspiciously.

"Yes," I said, matter-of-factly. I wasn't about to let him intimidate me.

"What's your name, sir?"

"Maurice Council."

He started writing something on his little pad. I couldn't see what it was, but it was taking a long time for him just to be writing my name.

The officer was standing in front of me with his back to the guys working on Ericka so I could look through him and see what they were doing to her.

"Some of the guys outside said there was a dice game going on in here. You do know that gambling is illegal in this state, right?"

He was pissing me off.

"Man, if they was in here gambling, I don't know nothing about it. I left my boy, Tarik in here while I made a run because I was expecting a customer at six and I didn't want to miss him. Instead of you over here asking me about this bullshit, you need to be throwing that nigga, Kane up under the jail. That's my girl laying behind you full of holes!"

By that time, they were loading her up on the stretcher. I brushed past him.

"Look, man. I'm not going to let my girl go to the hospital by herself, so if I'm under arrest, then do your thing. Otherwise, back up off me."

The officer began to back down a little.

"No, Mr. Council, you're not under arrest. But we will be at the hospital later to get a statement from you."

"Yeah, you do that." I said without turning around.

Chapter 23

(Maurice)

Who You 'Posed to Be?

The paramedics wouldn't let me ride in the back with Ericka, so I rode shotgun with the driver while the other dude worked on her behind us. They had done a pretty good job controlling the bleeding, even though she had already lost a lot before they got there. She was stable and semiconscious, but she wasn't saying anything. I stayed turned around in my seat the whole time trying to see what they were doing to her and I kept talking to her from the front to let her know I was still there with her. It seemed like it took forever for us to get to the hospital. When we finally got there, they whisked her in the back of the emergency room to prep her for surgery, and a couple of attendants ushered me out into the waiting area before I could protest.

Nat, Toy, Renee, and Ericka's parents rushed me as soon as I walked into the waiting room. I explained to them what happened as best I could, even though I really didn't know what had gone down before I got to the shop. I never even got a chance to prepare to face her parents. I hadn't really had too many dealings with them in the past, so I thought they were going to blame me for what happened to her. But they actually turned out to be pretty cool in spite of the situation. Her dad wanted to know if I knew who shot her. I told him how the police had got the shooter, but the other guy involved in the altercation got away before the police got there. Her mom was grateful that we stayed with E. rather than going after him and getting ourselves in trouble behind it. I didn't tell her that we planned to hunt that ass down like an animal as soon as I could leave the damn hospital.

Tarik had called Nat right after we left to come to the hospital and she had called Renee and Toy. Renee left Tomika with her husband and kids since she was already at her house for their Girl Scout meeting. I went up to Renee to thank her for taking care of Tomika and she snapped on me.

"If you had been taking care of your business, Ericka wouldn't be laying back there fighting for her life, Nigga! She has spent the last six years waiting on you to do right by her, and for what? Two fucking bullets in her ass! I told her to leave your sorry ass alone a long time ago. I hope you're satisfied!"

Out of all her friends, I couldn't stand Renee's black ass. She was a freaking meddler, and she thought she knew what was best for everybody. She had ground her husband's manhood in the dust a long time ago with her all her relentless temper tantrums and mood swings. She thought I didn't know it, but her ass had been talking against me since day one. I wanted to punch her fucking lights out.

"Look, Renee. I'm not gonna help you disrespect Ericka's parents by having this conversation with you out here in front of all these people. So, you need to back up off of me and stay out of my business," I said to her as calm as I could muster. That was just like Renée. She loved to make a scene.

"Why can't we discuss it, Reese? You scared that her parents gonna find out how you've been dogging their daughter all this time and that you're the reason why she's laying in this hospital full of holes! Dammit, she was waiting for you to pick her up and take her to get her truck!Where were you?"

Our altercation was apparently more interesting than what was happening on the waiting room television, and people were getting involved in our argument like they were at a tennis match. Everybody's eyes were suddenly on me. I would not disappoint.

"I was working. And Ericka knew I was working, so you putting in your two cents about what happened today don't mean shit, Renee, 'cause you weren't there, okay? And furthermore, Ericka don't spend all of her free time trying to castrate me like you do Terrell. So stop hating on me because she don't feel like she got to run my fucking life!"

Natalie grabbed my arm.

"Reese! That's enough! Y'all cut it, right now! This is not helping her. And Renee, as usual, you're out of line. Come with me to the cafeteria to get something to drink. You need to cool off. Reese, stay here in case the doctor comes out or Tarik and them come."

I nodded, flopped down in a chair and put my head in my hands. I couldn't believe this shit was happening. Renee was a bitch, but she was right.

This shit was all my fault. I thought about all the times Ericka complained about me staying at the shop until all times of the night and the times that I would leave her to go hang out with the boys at Friday's or the club. I never asked her if she wanted to come. And I would hang out all night and be bored as hell. I should have been spending all that time with my woman. All she was trying to do was be close to me and show me some love, but I was too busy trying not to let my guard down. And for what? It wasn't like she was some loose girl that was always asking me for money. She was always straight up with me. And even though we weren't married, she always took me for better or for worse. She loved me for me. She was the only woman to ever take me just like I was, and now there was a big chance that I was getting ready to lose her. I couldn't hold back the tears that had begun to roll down my face. I didn't love her like she needed to be loved and now I was going to lose her.

Ericka's mom walked over and put her hand on my shoulder.

"It's going to be alright, son," she said to me.

I looked up at her, and she was smiling.

"I'm sorry, Mrs. Middleton," I said, sniffling. "I didn't know she was going to be at my shop waiting for me. The only reason why I took so long was because I knew she wanted to drive my car. I swear, I would never let nothing happen to E. I love her."

She took my hand.

"I know you wouldn't, baby. You're all she talks about. She loves you, too. Nobody else may understand the relationship you two have, but as long as you understand it, that is all that matters. If I thought you were mistreating my daughter, don't you think I would have said something by now?"

She chuckled and nodded over to Ericka's dad who was flipping through a magazine in the opposite corner.

"And I've got a big, black husband over there that won't hesitate to back me up if I need him."

I smiled at her. She and Ericka looked almost like twins.

"Come on. We're getting ready to pray."

Natalie and Renee had come back from the cafeteria, followed by Tarik, Will, and some cat that I had never seen before. We all got in a circle and held hands.

"Let us pray," Ericka's father began.

While he prayed, I prayed a silent prayer of my own.

'Lord, please forgive me for not honoring the blessing of Ericka's love. I ask you to spare her life and bring her back to all the people here who love her, even if it means taking her away from me.'

After Mr. Middleton finished praying, he came over and hugged me. He was a strong black man who never said too much, unless he was talking about a car or his favorite women. But he loved the women in his life and it was understood that you did not disrespect them, or you would have to answer to him.

"You know, Ericka tells me everything about you, good and bad," he said.

I hung my head.

He continued.

"But, I was a young man one time, too, so I realize that some of the complaints she has are really just a maturity issue on your part. Deep down, I believe that you really love my daughter. Now, you see the hard way how important it is to make the most of the time you have with the people you love. My daughter is stubborn and impatient just like her Ma. To tell you the truth, I don't know how you lasted this long."

We both laughed.

But, you know when you get her back, this time, it will be totally on you."

"Yes sir, I know."

He patted me on the shoulder and walked away without another word.

As I was about to get up and go over to Tarik and the rest of the group, the nurse paged for the Middleton family over the loudspeaker. Then she ushered us all into a small conference room where the doctor was waiting.

"Is she okay, Doc?" her dad asked. "Can we see her now?"

The doctor shook his hand and introduced himself. His name was Dr. Covington and he had just finished up Ericka's surgery.

"We were able to successfully remove the bullet from Ericka's leg. It had lodged in the back of her thigh muscle. We had to repair some torn tendons and muscle tissue, but with some physical therapy she should be as good as new."

"However, the bullet in her back was a little trickier. We were able to remove it, but in doing so, there was some trauma caused to her spinal cord. We won't know for a few days how much damage has been done."

The room got really quiet, and everybody had this look like the man had just said she died. It was then I noticed that guy from the prayer circle, again. Who was this cat, and why hadn't anybody introduced him to me?

Her mom asked, "Are you saying she might not be able to walk again?"

No, he couldn't be saying that. She had to be able to go skating with Baby Girl like she always did on Saturdays. She just got that motorcycle. She hadn't even really had a chance to ride it. What about all the things I planned for us to do like us taking our motorcycles to bike week together next year? Or taking her to Jamaica for our honeymoon? She couldn't be paralyzed. Her life was just beginning.

I kept quiet, scared that if I opened my mouth, I would lose it.

The doctor spoke again.

"There is a fifty percent chance that your daughter might never walk again. But right now, there is so much swelling from the gunshot and the surgery to remove the bullet, it is impossible to tell. Ericka narrowly escaped this thing without having to have a blood transfusion. The loss of blood was significant. Because of the position of the bullet in her back, the trauma also caused her right lung to collapse. We had to put her on a ventilator for the time being. She's not out of the woods yet, but there is a great possibility that she is going to make it through this."

Ventilator? What the fuck had I done?

Toy spoke up.

"Can we see her?"

"She's in ICU, so you can only go in two or three at a time, but there is a waiting room up there like this where you can sit while you take turns going in. Try not to stay in there longer than a couple of minutes at a time."

When we got to the ICU, Ericka's parents went in first. Me and the rest of the group went into the waiting area to sit. But the mystery dude didn't come in with us. He kept on past the waiting room and made a stop at the nurses' station before disappearing in another room down the hall.

"Yo Rik, man, who is that dude that's been hanging around here since before we left the emergency room?" I asked Tarik.

"I don't know, man," he said, scratching his chin. "I thought maybe he was somebody in the family. He spoke to her parents, though. Why? Where'd he go?"

"He went into one of those rooms down there."

"You want me to check it out for you?" Tarik asked.

"Naw, man. I'll find out for myself. It might not be nothing."

"Alright, dawg. Let me know if you need me."

I purposely waited for everyone else to go in first. I wanted to be able to take my time without someone else waiting for me to come out so they could go in. Plus, I sort of hung back to see whether or not that unknown brother was going to come back and try to see Ericka, too. If he did, that would be my time to find out exactly who he was.

I admired the way Ericka's parents were able to be so strong when I know it was tearing them up on the inside to see their daughter all jacked up. Hell, they had to comfort the rest of the group. Natalie held it down until she left the room, but she collapsed as soon as she got out into the hallway. And the other two were crying like she was dead. Ericka's mom was consoling them and it was her daughter that was in the hospital. I was standing there thinking how thankful I was that E. apparently took her strong personality from her peeps. She hardly got ruffled about anything. I can't stand no weak ass woman.

Tarik took the girls out to get something to eat and to give me a chance to be by myself with Ericka. When everybody left, I made my way toward her room door. I peeked inside, kind of scared of what might be waiting on me. The light in the room was real dim, so I couldn't really see her at first. I could hear the beeping of all those machines and that ventilator that was helping her breathe. I walked real slow toward her because I dreaded coming that close to reality. I wanted to see my baby, but I didn't want to see her like that.

When I got up to the bed, I tried to smile away the tears that were threatening to fall down my face. I didn't want her to wake up and see me looking like no bitch standing over her. It hurt me to see her laying there with that tube forced down her throat and her hair all messed up. I reached down to smooth it back on the pillow. She would have been trying to primp right there in the bed if she thought I was anywhere near. I chuckled at the thought. Her skin was pale and ashy, probably from all the blood she lost, but she looked so beautiful and peaceful laying there, anyway. I took her hand and kissed it.

I pulled up a chair and sat real close to the head of the bed. For a minute, I just lay my head real close to her body. She used to always complain that she didn't have enough cuddle time in bed with me. When I did spend the night there, she would get as close up under me as she could and she would curve her body to fit mine however I was lying.She liked the closeness of just having me in bed with her at night. She said it made her feel warm and secure. I used to get mad and purposely go home at night because I thought she was trying to keep me on lock. Now, I wanted to feel that same feeling of warm security she talked about all the time. I couldn't understand where she was coming from before, but now, I would have given anything to be able to curl up at home in the bed with her right then. But the only feeling I got from her right then was the cold ass air coming from the vents in that hospital room and Ericka's body heaving up and down from the ventilator pumping air in and out of her mouth.

She lay there, still like a rock. She wasn't moving. She wasn't doing nothing. I wanted her to wake up so I could talk to her. I had so much to tell her. Before when she used to try to talk to me, I would sit there and play stupid. I would let her do all the talking and not say nothing. Then when she would ask me stuff; I would act like I didn't understand what she meant. She would get so pissed off at me. I wanted to tell her that I loved her but I was scared if I put myself out there, she would hurt me. I was scared to tell her that I really wanted to marry her and have a ton of freaking kids. I didn't want her to know how good it actually felt having her around. And that I would have gladly told them niggas at the shop to get them some business if I wasn't so scared that she would stop loving me if she knew that she really had me sprung. Instead, I went out of my way not to spend any time with her. I always put the boys before her. I basically fed her with a long handled spoon. I did just enough to keep her around; nothing more, nothing less. And apparently, she really did love me because she put up with all of my shit like we had been married for thirty years.

I tried to think of one good reason why after all this time I deserved to be with a woman as good as Ericka. I couldn't think of any. I took a deep breath and just began to tell her everything that was on my mind. I wasn't sure if she could hear me, but I had to tell her right then, in case I never got to say them again. I had wasted enough time being stupid. It was time to put up or shut up. I rose up and took a deep breath.

"Hey, E. Middle. I know you would be having a fit about the nurses leaving you in here with your hair looking all crazy, so I smoothed it back for you. I guess they lost your ponytail holder on the way over here. I'll bring you some more from the house later, okay? But, you know you look good to me, whether your hair is done or not, right?"

"Baby, I'm sorry for letting this happen to you. You know I would never let anybody hurt you. I would kill a nigga before I let them do something to you. I know you think I just left you out there today like I always do. But it was different, this time, I swear. I just took my time because I knew you wanted to drive my car. I know you like rolling in the Beamer. I just wanted to give you a chance to high side and try out the new system and floss with the new twenties. I know you like stuff like that, too. I was just trying to make you happy. Because I know you had been unhappy with me lately, and I wanted to try to make it up to you. I didn't know you were going to come back to the shop and get mixed up in all that shit that was going on. I would have killed everybody in there to keep anything from happening to you."

"I love you, girl. I know I ain't never said it before. I'm sorry that you almost had to lose your life to make me realize how much you mean to me. But, I love you, girl. I've always loved you. And I don't care who know it. I don't give a kitty about them dudes at the shop or nothing else. All I want is you. And if I have to spend the rest of my life trying to make this shit up to you, I will. I just want you to be okay, baby. Please come back to me."

This time, I couldn't stop the single tear that rolled down my face. Forget being a player. That trying to be a player shit don't get you nowhere in the middle of the night when you all alone in an empty bed feeling empty as hell on the inside. Being a player didn't get me nowhere when I needed somebody to help me organize my office at Hot Wheelz. Ericka is the one that handles most of my finances, balances my checkbook at my shop, and keeps money in the bank so I don't blow it all. And being a player damn sure ain't going to get me nowhere when I don't have nobody to rub the back of my head at night when I'm tired until I fall asleep. Or scratch my back with them long ass nails, or pop popcorn and bake cookies for us to eat while we watch James Bond movies.

I had said all I could say, so I bent over to kiss her forehead one more time before I left. I looked at her for another minute or so, hating to say goodbye. As I tried to let go, I felt her squeeze my hand just a little. She had been so still the whole time I was there, the sensation felt strange. I froze and studied her face again. But her eyes were still closed and other than that slight squeeze, she hadn't moved.

"I knew you wouldn't leave me," I said, smiling.

I let her hand go, and left the room.

"Thank you, God," I whispered looking up at the ceiling.

I walked right into the unknown brother as I was leaving the room.

"My bad, bruh," he said to me, patting me on the shoulder.

I backed away from him, kind of flexing a little. It was about time dude identified himself.

"Bruh, I been seeing you hanging around my girl's room ever since we got here and none of our peeps seem to know who you are. Wassup? Who you 'sposed to be?"

He smiled.

"You must be Maurice. We finally get to meet."

He reached out to shake my hand, but I just looked at it.

"Okay, so it's obvious that you know me. Now you gonna tell me who you are or what?

"Sorry, man. It's just that Ericka has told me so much about you. I feel like we could be boys. I'm a good friend of hers. I'm Desmond. Call me D."

So, this was the infamous De that made the women yell out his name in their sleep. This punk must have had a set of bronze balls to show his face around here when he had something going on with my woman. Ericka said that they were just friends, but I still had my suspicions. I heard her call his name with my own ears. And she had stopped complaining so much about me not coming around, so I couldn't be sure that she was spending all of her lonely nights at home, either.

"How you know she was here, man?" I asked, suspiciously. "And why you been lurking around here being all secretive and shit?"

"Look man, I didn't mean no disrespect. I introduced myself to her parents, so they knew who I was. And I stayed quiet out of respect for all of y'all. It would have been too distracting to be trying to do introductions in the midst of all that was happening. I was taking the scenic route back from the cafeteria for coffee when they brought Ericka in. I recognized her on the gurney and followed the commotion into the ER. That's how I knew she was here."

I looked at him like he was crazy.

"So, what? You strolling around the hospital for exercise, or something? You sound like a stalker to me."

"Naw, man. I'm no stalker. I've been here for the last few days with my wife. She is down the hall."

I relaxed my posture a little bit.

"Your wife? Is she alright?"

"No, man. She's not doing too good. Lapsed into a coma late last night."

"Damn, man. I'm sorry to hear that. What's wrong with her?"

Desmond shook his head.

"Thanks, man. The doctor couldn't get her blood pressure to go down after she lost our last baby, and she's been under round the clock care ever since. She spiked a fever earlier this week and the doctor put her back in the hospital. It's been kind of down hill ever since."

I felt kind of felt sorry for the dude. But that still didn't explain what he was doing hanging out around here. Why was he in here trying to see about Ericka when his own wife was in here bout to take her last breath? I couldn't help but think he still had a hidden agenda. But I tried to be cool about it.

"Man, I'm sorry about your wife, you know what I'm saying? I guess I kinda know what you going through."

"Yeah, thanks man," Desmond said, sighing. "Things are kind of rough for you right now, too. At least I don't have people flipping out on me like you do, though. Her home girl was out of line for stepping to you like that in the ER."

I was trying to stand my ground because I wanted to confront him about being with my girl. But this cat was actually pretty cool. He wasn't trying to step on my toes or nothing. Under any other circumstances, we probably would have been partners.

"Yeah, man. I ain't sweatin' that shit. It's always somebody out there that don't want to see you happy, you know."

"I feel you on that," Desmond said.

I got the feeling that maybe I had the wrong impression of De. But I still needed to see if I could find out for sure whether or not he and Ericka had been messing around. I tried to approach as cautiously as I could without letting him know I suspected anything.

"Man, it's good to meet you, and everything, but I have to admit Ericka really hasn't ever mentioned you to me, and I'm not trying to be funny, but how do you know her, and why is it that you know enough about her to figure out who I was?"

Desmond looked at me like he was thinking hard about something. Maybe he was trying to think of a quick lie to save his ass.

Then, he said, "Ericka and I used to work together at Global Technology. I always thought she was good people, so I kept in touch with her after she left. We lost contact for a while, but I ran into her again a few months ago when she came by to see some girls she was tight with at the job. We exchanged numbers again and we have been speaking on the phone at least three times a week ever since."

I was starting to get a little heated. This cat had been talking on the phone to my girl three times a week for the last few months, and I didn't even know nothing about it. And he was standing up there all smug like they had been pulling something over on me. I was trying to be cool, but it was hard.

"What?" I asked him, not wanting to believe what he was saying. "Why do you and my girl have so much to talk about?"

Desmond didn't even flinch.

"Look, Reese. Don't take this the wrong way, alright? It's not even like that."

"Not like what, nigga? Before I heard my girl call out your name in her sleep a couple of weeks ago, I didn't even know you existed. Now, you standing here with a straight face trying to tell me that y'all been conversating on the phone three times a week for the past few months? Well, I need to know, what is like, then?"

"Look, Reese, man. Me and Ericka are just friends. There's nothing going on between us, nor has there ever been. We just clicked on the job and got tight, that's all. She a good person to talk to and frankly, I enjoy her company. But, I love my wife and Ericka loves you. Neither one of us are trying to jeopardize our relationships. We are just mad cool, that's it. I swear."

This dude must think I was born yesterday. Even if it wasn't nothing going on with him and E., he couldn't tell me that he hadn't thought about the possibility.

"So, how does your wife feel about the little friendship you got going on with E.?"

"Honestly, my wife has been semiconscious for the last six months.That's why I work at night so I can be home to take care of her during the day. I talk to Ericka on the phone before I leave work at night and go home to my wife. Ericka has been my diversion from my home situation. She doesn't even know my wife is sick. I didn't tell her because I needed someone to talk to that wouldn't spend all my free time telling me how sorry they are about my situation. I don't need pity, I just need some real conversation every now and then, you know? My wife didn't know Ericka before, but even if she did, I don't believe she would have a problem with us being friends."

"Well, the problem I have with you is that you are a man. And you say you love your wife and all that, but come on. You can't tell me that you ain't never thought about trying to get with my girl. It's not like your wife would know."

I probably stepped over the line with that one. But who did this brother think he was fooling? How you gonna use my girl as your substitute wife? That shit still wasn't flying with me.

Not to be one upped, Desmond came back with, "Hell yeah, man. I thought about it a million times. No matter how much time my wife has left, she'll never come back to me again. And I love her, but I need to find not only a way to move on, but also the appropriate time. I would never disrespect my wife like that, comatose, or not."

"As for me trying to get with your girl, if that's all I wanted to do, bruh, I had plenty of chances to do that. Don't try to play that loving boyfriend bullshit with me. You standing here trying to make it seem like Ericka was hiding some kind of affair we were having or something. The only reason you didn't know about me was because you were never around when she needed you to be there. I've called that house plenty of times at different times of the day and night. And you've only been there one time that I know of. I used to tease Ericka and tell her that she must have made you up because y'all never spent any time together. Hell, I talked to your girl more than you did. You tried to buy your way into her heart when all she really wanted was for you to pay her a little attention. Now that she's all shot up in there, you want to lay all up under her and cry and shit. It's not even about her, now, is it? It's about you trying to ease your guilty conscience, right? She was sitting at the shop waiting on you to pick her up. Isn't that what you told her parents? And as for her calling out my name in her sleep, I'm not gonna even acknowledge that bullshit."

I wanted to beat the hell out of D. for what he was saying, but causing a big scene wouldn't solve nothing. Plus, he was right. That time he called and I answered was the first thing I knew about her receiving calls from other dudes. It was about six in the evening, and had I not felt bad about not spending no time over there in the first place, I would have never known. Hell, she could have been leading a double life as far as I knew. I just took it for granted that she was so in love with me, she wouldn't even be looking at nobody else.

Noticing that we had started to get kind of loud, Desmond asked me to come into the lounge where we could finish talking. After we stepped out of public view, he continued.

"Look, Maurice. I'm not going to lie to you. I'm attracted to Ericka. She's beautiful. She's intelligent. And most of all, you gave me open access to your woman. Sometimes, I would call at just the right moment. Like those times when you would have just left her to meet the fellas at the club. Or when you would call her at the last minute to tell her that you wouldn't be able to make it over that night because you were too busy bullshitting at the shop. I could swear sometimes when she answered the phone, she had been crying. Any other man would have pounced at the chance to make her feel better, to make her feel wanted. I was the one who took her to the beach for her birthday. You virtually gave me permission to get the panties. You never had any use for them."

I started to see red. This nigga was standing in my face talking about how he could have taken what was mine. I got up in his face nose to nose.

"So, what, man? You been banging my girl?"

Desmond didn't back down. He stood his ground looking dead in my eyes.

"Naw, man. I didn't bang your girl. I respect her. I know she don't roll like that. So, I never even brought it up. What? You wanna hit me for noticing something you haven't been paying attention to for six years? Take your best shot."

I wanted to hit him. I wanted to knock his fucking block off. I willed my arm to move, but it wouldn't. The truth hurts, and my ass was in a lot of pain right then. I took a step back.

He grunted.

"Yeah, that's what I thought."

I turned my back to him.

"Man, I tried to give her everything that she wanted."

"If you really wanted to give her what she wanted, you would have listened to what she had been trying to say instead of dismissing it as bitching. She didn't want that material shit, man. She wanted you. She thought something might be wrong with her."

I gave him a puzzled look.

"She thought something was wrong with her? Wrong with her like what?"

"Man, she thought that she was doing something wrong because she couldn't get you to come out of them streets."

I sat down, shaking my head. My mind went back to the days when I was married to Toni and I felt like Toni couldn't stand the sight of me. I remember Toni making me feel inadequate by never wanting me to touch her. And I had been making Ericka feel the same way.And I was too stupid to figure it out for myself. I had to hear it from another man about how I was fucking up in my own relationship. And dude had to be sincere, because if he had been one of them grimy dudes I'm used to dealing with, they would have just taken advantage of Ericka feeling bad about herself, screwed her, and then gloated to my face. I was grateful that he came to me like a man, but my pride was hurt because no man wants to hear that they are not satisfying their woman. And they especially don't want to hear it from another man. I couldn't even look up at him. I couldn't believe it had all come down to this.

"Look man," said Desmond. "You need to understand that this isn't about me having beef with you or trying to hurt your pride or nothing. I don't know you like that. Nor am I trying to protect your best interests. Personally, I thought she should have bounced a long time ago. I shouldn't even be telling you any of this.But for whatever reason, she loves you, and I'm tired of seeing her hurt. My wife is lying in the room next to hers and the doctors have already told me that the next breath she takes could very well be her last. But my wife knew before she went into that coma that I loved her. And I have no regrets. Can you honestly say that Ericka knew that about you?"

I couldn't bring myself to say the truth out loud.

"Man, I feel what you saying," I said, defeated.

"Look, Maurice. You knew when you met Ericka that she was different than the rest of the females out there. You should have known that what worked for everybody else wasn't going to work for her. She did everything she could to get you to want to be with her and you kept giving her the brush off. I don't know how she's going to feel towards you when she wakes up and realizes what happened to her. But I do know that if you plan on keeping her around, you better step up your game because she's got a reason to be tired of you ass, for real, now. I gotta get back to my wife. It's on you, bruh."

With that, he turned, and walked out.

Chapter 24

(Maurice)

Revenge in your Eyes

The police passed Desmond on his way out, as they came in to ask more questions about what happened at the shop. After the conversation I had just finished with Desmond, I sure as hell wasn't in the mood to be asked the same shit over and over by the police; especially when I didn't even know anything.

I stood, like I was preparing for a fight.

One of the cops was a guy that I played football with in high school. His name was Kelvin Bryant and he patrolled the area where my shop was. We remained pretty cool through the years and he always paid special attention to my business. I was pretty sure he knew that the fellows shot dice in the back, but if he did, he never said anything.I was kind of relieved when I saw that it was him handling the investigation. If nothing else, I knew he would make sure that Kane's ass would be taken care of.

The other officer was the same dude that was asking all the questions before the ambulance got there. He had kind of pissed me off, so I still had my guard up towards him.

Bryant shook my hand and gave me the little guy hug that brothers give each other when they're cool.

"Reese man, I'm sorry about your girl," he said, with genuine sympathy. "Is she gonna be okay?"

I shook my head.

"I'on know, man. She's on a ventilator. Doctor said she might be paralyzed."

"Damn, that's rough. I'm sorry to have to barge in on you like this. But you know I got to do my job, right?" he asked, apologetically.

I nodded my head.

He pulled out his little notepad and begun to write.

"What was going on when you pulled up to the shop," he asked.

I took a deep breath.

"Man, when I got there, it was a bunch of people standing around outside. I asked Will what was going on and he said some dudes were squared off in the shop. I ran in because I saw my car parked outside and my girl had my car today. I was trying to make sure that she didn't get caught in the middle of no mess. I didn't know if these guys were packing heat or what."

I told him about how Kane was laying in my display case and how he shot Ericka in front of us, trying to shoot that other cat.

The other officer cut in on the conversation.

"Do you know what was the argument about, Mr. Council?"

I rolled my eyes in the air.

"Look, man. I told you the fight had already started before I got there? How am I supposed to know what the beef was?"

"Nobody told you what happened afterwards?"

"Now, if I told you what somebody else told me, that would be hearsay, wouldn't it?" I shot back, sarcastically.

"Mr. Council, I'd watch myself if I were you," the white officer said, coolly. "We already have enough evidence to get a search warrant for your place of business."

"A search warrant for what?" I asked, indignantly.

"You tell us," the white officer said, smoothly.

Bryant was getting uncomfortable over our exchange. He cleared his throat.

"Um, Matthews, step outside, let me holla at you for a sec."

While they stood outside the door talking low, I wondered what the hell else would happen today.

Bryant came back in the room alone.

"Sorry about that, Reese. Matthews is just with me temporary until my regular partner, Officer James comes back. You remember James, don't you?"

I knew James. He was also a brother and pretty cool, as well.

Bryant continued.

"Man, look. I think one of your boys that was in the shop dimed you out about the dice game. I don't think it was personal. I just believe that there was somebody in there had some warrants and started singing so they wouldn't get locked up."

"But don't worry about that. I'll take care of it as long as you can assure me that your shit is on the up and up."

I threw up my hands.

"My shit has always been on the ups, man. You know, I let the fellas play every now and then when business is slow, but that's it. And if that was such a big deal to you, you would have been locked me up. C'mon, you know me better than that."

Officer Bryant paused for a minute.

"Yeah, you right. Drugs and shit ain't really your style. It's all good. But, I need to ask you one more thing."

"What's up?" I asked.

"That cat that Kane was shooting at? Let him live. He's got two strikes and when we get him, he's going down on a habitual felon charge, anyway."

I played dumb.

"Man, what you talking about?"

"Don't play me, Reese. I hear that evil nigga Sonny is going looking for him. And it's been too much blood shed, already. Let us handle it, from here. We know who he is, and we'll get him."

I turned my back, but didn't say anything. It was partly that Kane's fault that my baby was in the hospital. He had better hope Sonny got to his ass before I did.

Officer Bryant put his hand on my shoulder.

"Yo. You can turn your back on me, but you can't hide that revenge in your eyes. I know you're pissed off because he tore up your shop and the bullets went into your girlfriend instead of him, but you need to let us handle it. It's not worth your freedom, man."

I turned to face him, again.

"Well, what if you don't get him? You know y'all ain't gonna really look for him, anyway. You got the shooter. And Kane will probably be out in eighteen months or less. You know the system don't care when stuff happens to us."

"That's not altogether true, Reese. And even if it were, your way of handling it is not right. Now, I'm only gonna say it one more time. Let me do my job. If anything happens to that dude before we get to him, you're gonna take the fall for it. You got that?"

"Yeah, man, whatever," I said, without really meaning it.

"You got the number," he said, reaching to shake my hand. "Call me if anything else comes up. And I'm gonna be praying for Ericka."

"Thanks, man," I said, taking his hand.

Chapter 25

(Maurice)

Somebody had to die that Night

I left the hospital that night with murder on my mind. I really wanted to kill Desmond for trying to push up on my girl, but deep in my heart I knew he hadn't, really. If nothing else, I knew that Ericka was not that kind of woman. And even if things hadn't been that good with us, lately, she still wouldn't have cheated on me. I knew that all this mess was my fault for not paying her any attention.

But even still, I couldn't shake the thought of her laughing and talking with this man on the phone like she did with me; that is, whenever I had time to talk to her on the phone. And I had to make myself not think about her being at the beach with him for a whole weekend. How could I have been so damn stupid? I tried my best to blame him for everything that had gone wrong in my relationship, and when that didn't work, I tried to blame it all on her. But no matter how I tried to point the finger at somebody else, it still kept turning back to point at me. But at that moment, I didn't care. I just wanted to put some of this hurt that I was carrying on somebody else.

They had already taken Kane's thug ass downtown. I probably could've called in a favor to some of my boys in the county lock up, but chances were them cats on lock down already knew what had gone down before I did, and were waiting on Kane to get processed in so they could get to him. That made me feel a little better, but I didn't want the fellas at the county to get all of my action.

I knew the other dude got away after Ericka got shot. So that meant his punk ass was still out there, somewhere. It must have been my lucky night, but for his sorry ass, his luck was about to run out. I didn't know his name, but I had seen him hanging out in the housing project right near downtown. He didn't shoot my girl, but he started the fight that damn near got her killed.

That punk must have been crazy to think that he could come up in my store with some bullshit and think he could get away with it. Black folks are our own worst enemy. They always want to blame the white man for keeping them down, yet whenever black business owners lose out, it's usually at the hands of another black person. That's why we can't keep no decent clubs around here because sooner or later, niggas will get bored with what's happening inside and start wilin' out. And Raleigh PD is quick to shut your shit down for good.

That's why I just let them hang out at my spot, so they could be somewhere where they could just chill and hang out without the police sweatin' them. And all I asked in return is that they respect my shit. But instead, not only did they disrespect my place of business; they tried to kill my girl in the process. So, somebody had to die that night.

My girl was right. I did put them dudes in front of her and look what happened. But never again. From now on, no more hustling. Everything would be straight on the up and up from this day forward. Soon as I killed this nigga.

The more I thought about Ericka laying in that bed with that tube down her throat, the hotter I got. I rode up and down the little side streets and alleys hoping to catch a glimpse of the dude that Kane was fighting. I circled Lane Street and rode past St. Aug. It was late so there weren't a lot of people out. There were a few people standing around the corner here and there but the block was quiet. I rode down through Washington Terrace and then through Worthdale, but still came up empty. I had just about given up when the phone rang. It was Sonny.

"What up, Son?" I asked.

"Yo, Reese, man. Where you at?"

His voice was cool and even, like he had just smoked some bud. But I knew better. His voice had a chill to it that made the hair on the back of my neck stand up.

"I'm headed to the crib. Why? Wassup?"

"Meet me downtown by the old warehouse near the train tracks. I got something for you."

I paused.

I didn't have to ask what it was. I tried to stay cool, but I knew he could hear how anxious I was sounding over the phone.

"Yo, Son. What you do, man?"

Sonny ignored me.

"Reese, hurry up, man. I ain't got all fucking night."

Then he hung up.

Shit.

I hit the accelerator and gunned the engine. I knew that crazy ass Sonny was about to do some shit we'd all be sorry for, if he hadn't already. Nobody would have ever thought that less than an hour ago, I was looking to kill somebody. Now that it appeared that he was already dead, it wasn't even worth it. Ericka was still trying to hold on in the hospital and I had still fucked up my relationship. And now to top it all off, I was about to catch a case for a punk that I didn't even get a chance to swing on. Could this day get any fucking worse?

A set of headlights flicked twice as I approached the warehouse. I felt like I was in a damn movie or something. What the hell had Sonny done and why the hell did he want me to meet him in this dark ass place? That nigga was crazy. I cut my lights and drove up slowly beside his car. Sonny opened my car door for me and I got out.

"How your baby girl doing, man?" he asked solemnly.

"She's fucked up, man. She got tubes down her throat and shit. Doctor said she might not walk again.

I hung my head after I said it. The weight of the thought made my head too heavy to hold up.

"Yo, Reese. I know you was out looking for that nigga tonight. That's why I called. You gotta be there for your girl, man. You can't be pulling no time while your wifey is sick. So, I took care of that for you."

He motioned for me to follow him toward the back of the car. When he popped the trunk, there was the guy that I had been looking for all night hog-tied, his mouth covered with duct tape. His eyes were opened wide and he looked scared as hell. Thank God, he didn't look like Sonny had hurt him yet.

"Yo, Son. I know you'll do anything in the world for me, man. And you know I got your back. But I don't want you to go jail, especially not for no murder. Man, they gonna put your ass on death row for this shit."

Sonny grinned that even platinum grin.

"Please. You my boy and everything, but I don't love you like that to go back on no lockdown. I just wanted to make him sweat a little bit."

Me and the dude in the trunk sighed real deep at the same time.

"Well fool, why you got him all tied up in the trunk of your car like you the 'Transporter' or some shit?"

Now, I was getting ill.

"And why you got me all mixed in this shit? You know he gon' tell soon as you let him go. Then you gon' catch a kidnapping charge. And come to think of it, I am too, nigga!"

I wanted to smack this fool.

"Naw, Reese, man. All the rest of the cats at the shop bounced as soon as they saw the police coming. And word on the street is that Kane is downtown trying to say that 'Rik was the one who shot baby girl. He told them you was runnin' an illegal gambling and after hours spot out of Hot Wheelz.

And even though you and 'Rik both saw him shoot, your credibility is fucked up because of that dice game. And since mostly everybody else got warrants and shit, they ain't trying to get involved. So that means we ain't got no witnesses.

And if that nigga Kane can cast doubt down at the precinct, they might not convict his ass at trial. Or worse, he could plead out and do a few months and be out. So, I bought you out here to help me convince this punk to testify against Kane so the judge can go ahead and give him his third strike."

For a crazy dude, Sonny made a lot of sense. He looked at the dude in the car.

Sonny reached down and snatched the taped savagely away from his mouth. The guy yelled out in pain.

"You ready to talk, punk?" Sonny asked.

The guy bobbed his head up and down, frantically.

Sonny bent down and got right in his face. He pointed at me.

"You see my boy right here? He been at the hospital all day with his girl that took a bullet that was meant for your ass. If she lives, she might not be able to walk again. Do you think it's fair that she gotta ride around in a wheelchair while your legs still work nigga?"

The guy stammered.

"Sonny, man, I didn't mean for it to go down like that. That nigga Kane owe me like fifteen g's. He tried to get me in that dice game."

"Fuck that money, Yo. You almost got somebody killed that didn't have nothing to do with that shit. Look, the way I see it is I saved your sorry ass life. My man been riding around here all night looking for you so he could put your fucking lights out. So the way I see it is, you owe me a favor."

The guy in the trunk was breathing hard.

"What you want me to do, man?"

Sonny smiled.

"Oh, that's easy. You're gonna go downtown and tell Raleigh PD that Reese didn't have nothing to do with no dice game. And then you gonna tell them that Kane was shooting at you at Hot Wheelz, not Tarik."

That nigga, Sonny was smoother than Jack McCoy on Law and Order.

"C'mon, Sonny, man," the dude whined, "I can't be all up in the police face like that. I got warrants here and in New York."

Sonny rose to his feet.

"Alright, mothafucka. Since you more scared of the police than the niggas that's got you tied up and stuffed in the trunk of a fucking car, here's how we gonna run this.

You don't want to return the favor so I'ma take you out of my car and toss your ass in the back of my man's truck and act like I ain't seen you."

He shrugged his shoulders and looked at me.

"Reese, you got him, man. Help me get him in your truck."

I was enjoying every minute of watching him sweat. Not to be left out, I lifted up my shirt and revealed the butt of my nine-millimeter in my waistband.

"Fuck that," I said, trying to imitate Sonny's evil smile. "I don't want his DNA in my damn truck. I'ma do his ass right here."

"No, wait!" the guy screamed like a little bitch. "Alright, Reese, you got it, man. I'll do it. Okay? You can even drop me in front of the precinct. Just please, untie me, okay?"

Sonny sighed, almost disappointed that the dude had agreed to his list of demands.

"Alright, alright. Bitch ass nigga."

He bent over to untie him.

"Wait," I said to Sonny. "How do we know we can trust this nigga to do what he said? He could skip town tonight."

"Oh, he'll do it and he ain't going nowhere," Sonny reassured me. "Because if he don't do it, then he'll be double crossing me. And I might not kill him for you, but I damn sure ain't gonna let him fuck over me.

And besides, nigga, I got your wallet and your id with your baby's mama's address on it. I would hate to have to pay her and the kids a visit in the middle of the night like I did your punk ass. But she might not be as lucky as your sorry ass."

The dude looked like he had just seen a ghost.

"C'mon, Sonny man. You ain't got to get my girl involved in this. She pregnant, and..."

Sonny cut him off.

"Do you think I give a damn about your mongrel ass kids? My man's girl might die and leave their kid without no mama. So, you better not be playing me, punk."

The guy nodded wearily.

I helped Sonny untie him, and then we both got in our vehicles and left the guy in the deserted spot, leaving him standing in the dark by himself.

Chapter 26

No Little Green Men

I finally woke up from this weird long dream, only to find out that it had not been a dream. It was indeed very real that I was lying in a bed hooked up to all kinds of tubes and machines. The darkness that my eyes had grown accustomed to was suddenly being invaded by the light forcing its way in. I blinked rapidly, trying to focus in on where I was, exactly. I tried to rise up to look around, but my body seemed to be bolted to the bed. The best I could accomplish was to raise my left index finger. So, I lay there, stiff, darting my eyes back and forth around the room in an attempt to make sense of my surroundings.

It appeared that I was in the hospital for something, although for the life of me I couldn't figure out for what. The room was pretty festive for a hospital room. It was painted a soft pink, and big, brightly colored balloons floated in almost every corner.Flowers sat on every table and shelf. And someone had even taken care to hang get-well-soon cards on the walls. A picture of Tomika and I sat on the bedside table at the foot of my bed. It looked like someone had been planning a party.

A dull pounding inside my skull interrupted my thoughts. It was one of those headaches that you get from getting too much sleep. Apparently, a tube had been shoved down my throat at some point, leaving my throat really dry and sore. I must have had some type of surgery. But for what? I was as healthy as a horse. I wanted some water. I tried to call out for someone, but my lips didn't seem to be working either. In fact, nothing was working from the neck down, with the exception of the finger that I managed to wiggle. Trying to take in so much at one time was exhausting, even though I really couldn't move. I could feel the sweat beads forming on my brow. The room was beginning to spin. I closed my eyes and tried to take a deep breath. I had to figure out what was going on and why I was strapped down to this bed.

I tried to think back to the last place that I remembered being. But my head was pounding. I couldn't focus. What time was it? Where was everybody? Maybe this was one of those alien abductions that people claimed to have experienced. My mind was going in a hundred different directions. But since no one else seemed to be around, all I could do was wait.

I fell asleep again and started to dream. I dreamt that everyone had gathered together for a party in my honor. They had been waiting a long time for me to come through the door so they could surprise me, but I could already see them from where I was standing outside the door. I knocked and knocked, but no one seemed to hear me. But the weird thing was that no one really seemed to be in a partying mood, either. Everyone seemed so sad. All my family and friends were there. Even Desmond and Maurice were there together. And they were talking just like they knew each other.

I was tired of sleeping. And I was tired of lying in that bed. I had to get someone in there to get me some water and get me a mirror.I'm sure my hair was a hot mess if I had been lying in this bed for any extended period of time. And I hated for my hair to be all over my head, especially when other people could see it. I prayed that when I opened my eyes this time a nurse or somebody would be there. And hopefully they would read my mind and get me what I wanted since it appeared that at this point I couldn't tell them.

The light wasn't as bright when I opened my eyes this time, so it didn't take long for me to focus. Fortunately, there were no little green men lurking around my room, but to my sheer delight, everyone that I loved was there with me this time. I could see my dad standing by the door talking to Tomika. My mom and Renee, Natalie, and Toy were all talking quietly. They didn't seem to notice that I was awake. I opened my mouth to say something, but again, my vocal chords wouldn't cooperate. So, I lay there enjoying watching my family interact with one another.

Shortly after I opened my eyes, I saw Maurice walk through the door. He shook my dad's hand, and then scooped Tomika up in his arms and she gave him a big kiss on the cheek. He smiled brightly, as they chatted about something I couldn't really hear. As he put her back down on the floor, he handed her a big bag full of coloring books and crayons. She happily took them to another bedside table that had been brought in and lowered for her to color on.

Maurice briefly spoke to my dad and then made his way towards me. Before he could cross the room, someone called a greeting from outside the door. It was Desmond. To my amazement, Maurice and Desmond shook hands and gave each other a little guy hug. You know the ones they give each other where their shoulders are in each other's way so they don't touch. As they talked, I wondered how and when all of this came about seeing how Desmond and Maurice didn't even know each other existed as far as I knew. I wasn't sure how they became pals all of a sudden. And I wasn't sure if I wanted to find out. But I couldn't speak, so I had no choice but to lay there and see what happened next.

I'm not sure how long I lay there, but I guess I had been sleeping for so long my family had grown accustomed to going on about their normal routine while I slept. No one seemed to realize that I was now awake and absolutely parched. Finally, my baby girl came over to my bed with her coloring book. I didn't know if she could see the smile welling up on the inside of me or not. She was coming to show me the picture she had been working on.

"Mommy, I colored this picture for you," she said, propping herself on the edge of my bed and holding up her picture.

It was beautiful and she had stayed inside the lines. My baby was really artistic. She could draw pretty well, too.

She saw my eyes open and began to talk to me just like she had just spoken to me earlier that day. She kissed me on my forehead.

"Did you have a good nap?" she asked.

My mother looked up.

"Tomika, baby, don't lay on Mommy like that. You might pull some of her tubes loose. Come back over to the table with your book."

"But, Mimi. I just wanted to show Mommy my picture."

"I know, sugar. But, Mommy can't look at it right now. She's sleeping. You can show it to her when she wakes up."

Tomika was adamant.

"But, Mimi. Mommy is awake. See?"

Everyone in the room stopped. My mom rushed to the edge and stared at me.

Then she smiled.

"Hi, my baby. We missed you."

She took my hand and I tried with all my might to squeeze it. It felt so good that everyone finally noticed I was awake.

Desmond rushed out of the room to get the nurse. Everyone crowded around the bed peering at me like I was a ghost.

Ok, can I get some water, now?

When the nurse came in, everyone moved away from the bed so she could get to me. She stared at the monitors beeping around my bed and began to write furiously. Then she leaned over the bed and smiled.

"It's about time you woke up and joined us," she said, jokingly.

She shined a bright light in both of my eyes. I blinked rapidly.

"Her pupils are responding. Yep, I'd say she's back, alright," said the nurse.

Just then, the doctor and another nurse came into the room. They poked and prodded and manipulated, but nobody brought me any water.

Everybody took turns hugging me and kissing me.

The doctor told my family that I had been through quite an ordeal and that I was a very lucky young lady. But nothing from that statement gave me any clue, still about what had happened to me. He told them that they could take the tube out of my throat once they were sure that I could breathe on my own.

My mother went out of the room to finish praising the Lord for bringing me back. The rest of the crew followed the doctor out so that they could finish talking about what would happen now that I was awake and alert.

A few minutes later, Maurice returned alone. He was smiling. He was still handsome, even though his face looked aged and weary like he hadn't been sleeping at night. He bent down next to me, carefully taking my hand and rubbing it gently across his face. I squeezed his hand with all the strength I could muster. I was glad he was there with me. He looked at me and smiled again.

"I love you, E. Middle," he whispered.

_I must be dying,_ I thought to myself. In six years, Reese has never told me that he loved me before. So this must be serious business.

I had so many questions. What happened to me? Why couldn't I get out of this bed? Why couldn't I talk? I opened my mouth to say something. Anything. I managed to utter a little groan. Whew. My vocal chords were finally starting to work.

Maurice looked at me, startled.

"What you trying to say, baby. Talk to your man! What's on your mind, E. Middle?

I gave it one more try.

"M-m-my hair okay?" I whispered, breathlessly.

Chapter 27

How Could This Be?

It felt good to have all my family and friends around to support me while I recovered in the hospital. In addition to the nurses that were always coming in to do something or another to me, there was always someone from my family there to help or just to keep me company. At first, only two people were allowed to visit me at a time, so my family took turns sitting with me until I got strong enough to be moved out of the critical care unit.

My dad, who had recently retired, would come in about nine or so and stay till about three or four. Then my mom came over from work with Tomika in tow after five. Tomika did her homework at the hospital or she drew pictures to decorate my room with. My mom took her home about six thirty to start getting her ready for the next day.

Natalie was a nurse at the hospital, so she popped up anytime during the day or night, depending on how her schedule went. Toy usually came in the evenings after she closed the garage where she was lead mechanic and after her daily basketball game at the gym. And Renee's mom took over the daycare in the afternoons two days a week so that Renee could relieve my dad so that he could have some time to take care of things around the house.

Ironically, Desmond had a close relative who was admitted into CCU a couple of days before I did, which I was told is how he and Reese had their initial introductions. I also understood that their first meeting was not pleasant, but they had somehow managed to resolve whatever beef they had and incredibly become more than civil to each other. I had my suspicions regarding their fight, but I had too much other stuff on my plate at the time to care.

Desmond came in everyday about three or four to relieve my dad or Renee, whichever one happened to be in there that day. He hung out with me until Maurice closed the shop and came to see me. Sometimes Reese stayed all night, but on the nights that he went home, Desmond would stick his head back in the door and check on me later in the night, since he was already there with his own family member.

I secretly wondered who the family member was who was sick. He never gave much detail about who it was and why they were there. I just knew that they were gravely ill, and the doctors had done all that they could do for them.

I didn't press him about it because I wasn't quite up to taking on someone else's health issues along with my own. In addition to a collapsed lung, I also had a major femur fracture that they had a devil of a time trying to piece back together. I supposed the next time I went to the club or the courthouse, I would probably be treated like a terrorist because I had so much metal in my body now, including the bullet that teetered dangerously on the edge of my spinal cord. The doctor's were afraid to move it for fear they might paralyze me in the process. And even if it didn't, my leg was in such a mess that it would be months before I could even make an attempt to walk, again, anyway.

I tried to focus on one thing at a time. I couldn't be worried too much about my legs right then because I couldn't feel them. But I could feel the crushing pain in my chest every time I tried to take anything other than a normal breath. Breathing was a major event, anyway; especially with the plastic tube they had shoved into my chest to re-inflate my lung and the ventilator down my throat. I was kept under heavy sedation the first few weeks to aid in keeping my excitement level to a minimum. Anything that caused me to take more than a half of a breath would send me such an excruciating pain, I would nearly faint. I guess that was a good enough reason that my loved ones chose to keep certain things from me until they felt that I was strong enough to handle them.

It felt especially good to have Maurice around. He was never around this much before I got shot. But it made me a little sad to know that I almost had to lose my life for him to decide that he wanted to be around me. Later on the sadness gave way to resentment because having him around made me feel like he stayed out of guilt. I decided later that he was indeed guilty; not because he never actually spent any time with me before I got shot, but because he felt responsible for me actually having been shot in the first place. Again, this wasn't even about me. He was just pacifying himself by staying in my face all the time. We would see how much longer he would stay around once I got out of here.

The first few weeks were slow and grueling. Since it was mandatory for me to remain heavily sedated for the most part, the only thing that I could really do was lie there in a drug induced fog. I saw my family and friends come and go. I even talked to some of them, I suppose. But other than that, I don't remember much about the time immediately after I woke up in the hospital.

Once my lung capacity had increased to sixty-five percent, much of the pain I was in began to lessen and the doctors began to wean me off some of the sedatives that I had been on. The head of my bed was raised almost to a sitting position and I was able to stay awake a little bit longer and visit with my family.

When I was stronger, Desmond and I resumed our nightly chats. Sometimes I could even guilt-trip him into making late night Krispy Kreme doughnut runs. We hadn't discussed the argument we had about his wife the last time we spoke before I was shot. I guessed that he was trying to keep everything on a positive note, which was fine with me. I was just glad that we weren't mad at each other anymore.

It was a funny thing, though. The more I started to come around, the less I began to see of Desmond. Sometimes I would catch him standing over me in the middle of the night when I was half-asleep, but during the day he was MIA most of the time. I never mentioned it because I just figured that his family member must have gotten worse. I didn't want to make a big deal out of it. I figured he would tell me what was going on when he was ready. He must have really been under a lot of stress trying to work and look out for this person in his family that no one else seemed to care about. Other than the doctors, nurses, and a couple of stray people here and there, the rest of the family seemed not to be around for this person who was obviously very ill. I felt sorry for them. I prayed that God would give Desmond the strength to continue to see about his loved one and that His will be done on that person's behalf.

I also thought it odd that I never once saw anyone that could have possibly been his wife. I still didn't have a clue as to what type of relationship they had, but I thought that if they were still together she would at least have the decency to support her husband while his family member was sick. I couldn't imagine having a husband and not being there for him during a time like that. The thought of her being so selfish made me feel angry and protective over my friend. I wished that I were able to be more supportive of him.

A couple of nights before I was due to be transferred into a regular room from critical care, I awoke to a huge commotion on the floor. I thought it was coming from the direction of Desmond's family member's room. I wondered what was going on, but I decided not to ask. Since I was a healthcare provider, I knew that confidentiality was a big issue and I thought it not appropriate to ask about other people's situation. It would have been different if I had known them, but being a friend of a friend just didn't strike me as enough authority to ask personal questions. I prayed that the person had been able to make it through the night.

About three o'clock the next afternoon, I received an unexpected visit from Dr. Curtis. I hadn't seen her since the day I had been shot. I was told that she had been in quite a few times before I woke up, but this was the first time that I would get to see her.

She looked weary and haggard, like she had had a rough delivery. I wondered who delivered a baby today. She smiled when she saw me awake.

"Boy, you sure are a sight for sore eyes," she said, trying to mask her fatigue.

"So are you," I said. "I never thought that I would ever say that I was ready to go back to work."

She laughed.

"I have a stack of charts piled on top of your desk waiting for your attention."

"Well, it's nice to know that you're still holding my job."

She sighed and sat down on a chair near my bed.

"So, how're you holding up? You're looking well, considering.

We talked about the status of the shooter's trial, how Reese was doing and how glad Tomika must be to have me back. Then we began to talk about which patients had babies that were due this month, who had twins, whose labor went the longest. That's when I got the news.

"So, I see you got your scrubs on," I inquired. "Somebody go into premature labor? This isn't a surgery day for you."

She sighed deeply.

My heart began to beat a little faster.

"What's wrong?" I asked.

"Sonia Perry arrested a few hours ago. She didn't make it."

I was stunned. I knew that Sonia had been in failing health since she delivered her last baby stillborn, but I had no idea that she had been that sick.

"How?" was all I could manage.

"Well, she'd been in a vegetative state the beginning of the summer. That's why she hasn't been in. She was admitted to critical care the week before they bought you in. In fact, she's been right next door to you the whole time."

What? I couldn't believe she was right next to me and I never even got a chance to say good-bye. Sonia and I had clicked really well. We had even gone to lunch a few times; just the two of us. How did all of this manage to get past me?

Sensing my confusion, Dr. Curtis said, "Well, I figured you must have known. Her husband was in your room talking to your family the night you were shot. In fact, I was here several times before you woke up, and he was here every time except for one. He told me that you guys used to work together and you were good friends."

It couldn't be.

"Desmond Wright? But...but Sonia's last name is Perry," I stammered.

"Yeah, I know. Sonia kept her maiden name because her real estate business had already started to take off before she got married, so she kept her maiden name for business purposes."

A wave of sadness and guilt swept over me. So this was the big secret that Desmond had been keeping about his wife. She was dying. That's how he was able to spend his birthday with me. That's why he never had anything bad to say about her. She wasn't cheating on him. She was sick and he was taking care of her. And I had known who she was the whole time.

Dr. Curtis thought that I was grieving for a lost patient and friend. But little did she know that my emotions not only included sadness, but also guilt and remorse. She talked a little more about Sonia, but I wasn't listening, anymore.

How could Desmond have spent all that time with me in good conscience knowing his wife's life was slipping away? I didn't know if I could live with the fact that I had been lusting after a dying woman's husband. He even split his time between us when she was on her last leg. How could he?

Dr. Curtis wound up her visit to go finish up her paperwork for the morgue. Then she left me all alone with my guilty conscience.

Chapter 28

The Bed that I Made

My life had officially hit rock bottom. I had been lusting after a dying woman's husband. I was risking her right to be cared for by the man that she thought would take care of her through sickness and in health during the time when she needed him the most. While she lay in that bed fighting for her life, I was at the beach with her husband frolicking like a foolish teenage girl. What the hell was I thinking? Even though I knew that Desmond was also to blame in all of this, I still couldn't hide from the fact that it had been my own low self-esteem that was the driving force in this whole ugly mess.

I had come to rely on Desmond to be there for me when I felt shunned by Maurice. And I felt guilty that I had taken precious time away from his dying wife all for the sake of being granted a stupid birthday wish. And to make matters worse, I knew and respected this woman. She had been my patient. But I was too busy wallowing in my own self-pity, I hadn't even been able to put two and two together and figure it all out. It was at that moment when Dr. Curtis told me the news about Sonia Perry that the ugly truth about my life slowly became clearer.

Lying in that hospital bed, I had finally come to the realization that my so-called boyfriend had no real desire to be with me in all the years we had been together. In fact, we spent more time together since I had been in the hospital than the entire six years we had been a couple. And now he was only around out of guilt. It seemed that I had waited my whole life to be able to have this kind of one on one with Maurice. But it was kind of hard to enjoy it lying in a hospital bed with a tube shoved into my chest and two bullets in my ass.

I finally understood that it was again my low opinion of myself that landed me in the hospital in the first place. But Maurice took it upon himself to carry the blame. He knew that the only reason that I had been at Hot Wheelz in the first place was because he had not been there ready to take me to pick up my truck from the mechanic's like he was supposed to. And he knew that I had spent the better part of my relationship waiting for him in some form or fashion. But the reality was that it was I who made the decision to put up with him never being around and I was the one who decided that it was okay to remain in an unfulfilling relationship even after six long years.

I had made some really bad choices and now I was literally sleeping in the bed that I had made. And if my life couldn't get any worse at that moment, my doctor had come into the room earlier that week to inform me that he was unsure whether or not I would be able to walk out of that hospital.

I lay there attempting to process all the negativity that was my life. I was a mess and there was nothing that I could do about it. Hell, I couldn't even get out of bed to pee. Up until that moment, I had been doing pretty well at keeping the physical pain, the emotional hurt, and the extreme guilt that I was carrying bottled up on the inside. Everyone thought that I was so strong willed and brave. But they couldn't see how messed up I really was. And with so many people in and out of my room all the time, I felt that I always had to put up a brave front. Everybody was driving me crazy as it was hovering over me. Dr. Curtis was gone and I was all alone for once. I let the tears fall. They fell freely as if they were washing the ugly stains from my life. It was no longer important to put on a brave front for my family and friends. I sobbed uncontrollably and soon my sobs gave way to wailing. I cried long and loud. The tears seemed never ending. I felt that I had been crying for hours, and then I abruptly stopped.

I blew my nose and looked around, feeling a little silly to have spent the last hour or so crying like a little kid. And as funny as it may sound, I felt better than I had felt in years. I actually chuckled to myself and then gave a hearty laugh out loud.

Despite everything that had been going on in my life, from the death of my high school sweetheart to Vince's denial of Tomika, and Maurice's act of infidelity, it never occurred to me to cry. Not once.

But having that good cry made me feel like a new woman on the inside. My soul felt like the air outside immediately after a thunderstorm on a really humid day. I felt much lighter, like a great burden had been lifted. Opening the floodgates and letting the tears go was the first step towards fixing my life.

Yes, I had to admit that my life was screwed up. But as much as I wanted the pain to go away, the alternative to feeling the pain was feeling nothing at all. And I knew that in order for someone to feel nothing at all, they had to be dead. And since I had no desire to be dead, either, I knew that I had to find a way to get my life back together so that I could feel something else besides pain.

Chapter 29

You Still Got Some Left

About a week after my visit from Dr. Curtis, Desmond showed up at my hospital room door with a bunch of fresh flowers. He was smiling, but I could see the weariness in his eyes. As soon as I saw him, my heart began to ache. I wished that there was something I could say to make things all right with him. He leaned over and kissed me on the cheek before taking a seat right next to my bed.

"How you feeling, missy?" he asked, trying to sound cheerful.

"Oh, everyday above ground is a good day," I said before realizing that it was something Sonia used to say whenever you asked her how she was feeling. Desmond smiled at me weakly and rested his chin next to my leg like a loyal puppy. I began to gently stroke his head in comfort. We both stayed that way for a while too overwhelmed to really say or do anything else.

"I'm gonna miss her, too," I said to him, softly.

He looked up at me. Large tears had welled up in his eyes, threatening to fall.

"I knew the night after she went into labor that we wouldn't have much more time together," his voice cracked. "I guess I just wasn't as prepared to say good-bye as I thought."

His shoulders trembled as he buried his head back into my hospital blanket. Each muffled sob tore my heart into a million pieces. I continued to soothingly stroke his hair and speak to him softly, encouraging him to let out his emotions. Patiently, I waited for him to finish crying. Once he was done, I handed him a Kleenex.

After a long silence, I spoke.

"Why didn't you tell me?" I asked, as non-intrusively as I could. I didn't want to make matters worse by badgering him about things that really didn't matter at this point, anyway, except to satisfy my own curiosity.

"Because it was tough enough just having to look at her waste away to nothing, And it got to the point that I couldn't handle people always asking about her and causing me to continuously give a play by play of my wife dying. So the fewer people that knew, the fewer times that I would have to keep reliving my nightmare.

The fact that she never knew her father and her mother died of cancer right after she graduated from high school actually made things a little easier for me. She didn't really have any other family, except for an aunt that she really never met and never really knew how to get in touch with. So, there was nobody there to complicate anything.

We had discussed how we wanted to handle it if one of us got in an accident or something happened that required us to be kept alive on a machine, or something. And we both agreed to take care of each other for better or for worse. And she knew that I would have never pulled the plug on her, regardless even if she wanted me to. I loved her."

He sighed and went on.

"Only our closest friends and immediate family knew how bad off she really was. On the job, the human resources department was bound by confidentiality, so nobody at the job really knew. I even asked Dr. Curtis to be scarce about the details she gave after the delivery, and apparently, she respected my wishes because you never knew. Although, I'm not sure how it got passed you since the office had access to her records."

I frowned, trying to remember how all I missed the whole ordeal. I knew that she had been in the hospital. The office had even sent flowers to her room. I guess I just took it for granted that she had gotten better and gone home because no one had told me otherwise. And I knew she had lost another baby, so when she never came back for a follow-up, I just thought it would take her some time to grieve. Unfortunately, it had happened to her so many times it never occurred to me that anything else had gone wrong. While I was deep in thought, Desmond continued.

"I got in touch with Sonia's long-lost aunt right before she had the baby. I wanted to surprise her. I thought she would like the idea of having her only blood relative around to see the baby grow up. Her aunt decided to move back to the area for good to be close to Sonia, since she hadn't seen her since she was a baby. And after Sonia took a turn for the worse, her aunt asked if she could move in with us and help take care of Sonia to avoid putting her in one of those nursing facilities. I agreed, and so she's been staying home in the evenings while I work second shift."

The more he talked, the more sense Desmond began to make. It amazed me how he had kept up such a brave front all this time. I had questions, but I patiently held my tongue because I didn't want to miss anything he had to say.

"You and I got reacquainted about a month after she got really bad off. I always thought that you were good people and I love to hear you talk. You're so smart and have such an interesting insight on things. You became a welcomed distraction. And you treated me like a normal person. You didn't know what was going on, so you didn't know to take pity on me. Everyone else meant well and I appreciated their concern, but people didn't seem to know when to back off and give me some space. And the intrusive questions they asked...That whole 'poor Sonia, poor Desmond' routine and telling me what a sweet person she was and how sad it was that bad things always happen to good people, was like being in a constant state of mourning. And she wasn't even dead, yet.

And people seemed to fascinate over the fact that she was in a coma. It was like some weird television drama come to life for them. I know most of them were just being concerned, but they didn't seem to get it that all the questions and prying was insensitive."

He stopped and looked far away, as if remembering one prying person in particular.

"Is that why you got mad at me that night when I asked you what was going on with you and your wife?" I asked.

He nodded.

"I wasn't mad at you, really. I wanted to tell you. I consider you to be a very close friend and I wanted to spill my guts about everything that had been going on in my life for the past year. But you had problems of your own and I didn't think it was fair for me to overburden you with my issues.

And besides, when I talked to you, I all but forgot about how much I already missed my wife and how much I was struggling not to be angry with God for taking her away from me. Whenever you were anywhere around, I could be just plain old Desmond, again. I guess you might say I didn't tell you because I was trying to protect the little piece of sanity that talking to you gave me. I'm sorry I hid it from you all this time."

I was proud that Desmond had been able to look to me for strength during such a rough time in his life. And I was relieved that neither of us had done anything to disgrace his wedding vows. But I was still ashamed that I had more than given it some serious thought. Desmond really did love his wife. He wasn't cheating on her. I had taken his platonic fondness for me completely out of context. I silently wondered how many more times that I had to be the fool this year.

"I can't apologize to her, anymore, but I still owe you one," I said, finally, with my head bowed.

He looked puzzled.

"Why would you say that?"

"Because I literally threw myself at you like some desperate chick. And now that I know who you really are, I feel so bad and so stupid. I just pushed myself off on you because I was too weak to let Maurice go instead of continuing to allow myself to feel less of a woman from his lack of affection. I never should have said I wanted you for my birthday. And I damn sure didn't have any business staying in a hotel with you at the beach. I just used your attention as an ego stroke when I couldn't get what I wanted from Reese. And I did all of that at the expense of a dying woman."

Before I could finish my thought, Desmond was adamantly shaking his head.

"No," he said with a little bass in his voice. "I'm not going to let you do this to yourself. First of all, this was not a one-sided thing. The attraction was mutual. Yeah, I was married. And I loved my wife. But let's face it. She wasn't coming back. And I knew that. I lived with it everyday. And then, over here I've got the finest female friend in the city that I gotta talk to on the phone because I'm afraid that if I see her, I'll be tempted to cheat on my dying wife. So, instead I flirt with you on the phone with no shame in my game until you get comfortable enough to tell me how you feel. And out of that conversation, we both got a chance to spend some quality time with a quality person and a chance to get away from our problems for a little while. So, if you want to think about it in those terms, then we used each other. And we both got what we wanted, warmth and comfort that neither of us could get at home. And as an added bonus, we did it without disrespecting ourselves or anyone else. So, do we really have anything to be sorry about?"

I wasn't so sure.

"But what about our weekend at the beach?" I wanted to know. "We spent the weekend together in a hotel suite alone."

"True. I was doing something nice for a friend for her birthday. I'm guilty. You came out and enjoyed yourself. You're guilty. What else?"

I couldn't get him to see where I was coming from.

"Don't you feel the least bit guilty about all the time we spent together while your wife was at home sick?" I asked, frustrated.

"I used to, Ericka. But not for what you think. I felt guilty because I knew that it wasn't safe for Sonia to keep trying to have a baby. But she really wanted one bad, and I just couldn't tell her 'no.' After the second miscarriage, I wanted to stop. It was just too much on both of us, emotionally. But she kept telling me, 'just one more time, baby.' 'We can make it this time, baby. I just know it.' But every pregnancy just got worse and worse. But, I didn't have the heart to put my foot down and say no more. So, part of this whole thing is my fault. As her husband, I was supposed to protect her. But I was torn between protecting her and making her happy. And she was happy as long as she could look forward to being a mom.

I begged and pleaded with her before she got pregnant the last time to stop pushing the issue. I told her that we could adopt. I even agreed to look into a surrogate. But she insisted that she wanted to do it herself. She said that she wanted to rebuild her family, since all her family was gone. You know Sonia was syrupy sweet, but she was the most pig-headed woman I'd ever met."

He smiled weakly to himself, and then continued.

"So I agreed to go along with it one more time. But I told her that this was the absolute last time and that I wasn't willing to risk her life or health anymore to have a baby. She said 'okay' and joked that maybe I was using her health as an excuse for my own selfishness and just didn't want to share her with anybody else.

She knew that wasn't the truth. And she knew that I loved her more than life itself. And I knew she knew it. That's why I don't have to feel guilty about anything that went down after she went into that coma. Because she knew that I was going to take damn good care of her as long as she was here.

And I would have never disrespected her. That's why I didn't go there with you at the beach. Oh, trust me, part of me wanted to. And I tried to rationalize that I needed to move on. But it wasn't time, and I just couldn't bring myself to do anything like that while she was still here. But it was nice having a warm body next to me for a change."

"But Desmond," I said, "if you couldn't bring yourself to be with me, why did you even put yourself in that position in the first place? And you got away clean when you had to leave and go back to your job. But you came back. Why didn't you just stay on home while you were ahead?"

"Ericka, I already had some business to attend to there and I just figured that while I was there I could do something nice for you for your birthday."

"Yeah, you told me that you were there on business for Global Technology," I said.

"Well, not exactly," he answered. For the first time during the conversation, he appeared to cheer up a little.

Now, I was really confused.

"Not exactly?"

"The reason I was there is because I was supposed to close on a beach house that Friday. Sonia and I originally planned to move there after the baby was born. I thought about rescinding my offer, but I decided to go ahead and get it and maybe use it for rental property, or maybe renovate it and resell it."

Desmond and Sonia's businesses coincided because while Sonia was in the real estate business, Desmond bought old houses, renovated them, and resold them for a decent profit.

"So, I closed on the house before you got to Wrightsville. I was still kind of undecided about what to do with it until we went for that walk on the beach that Friday night. You were talking about how much you loved the beach and how you wanted to move there, but it was expensive.

So, the next morning while you were sleeping, I met with a contractor friend of mine in the area and had him meet me at the house so that we could make plans to turn it into a duplex. I figured that whenever you got ready to relocate you and Tomika would have somewhere affordable to live."

I looked at him in disbelief.

"Desmond, what are you saying?"

He smiled even brighter.

"I'm saying that I decided to do something extra nice for my friend. You know how Sonia was. My wife was always surprising people with stuff and doing things that were way out of the ordinary. So, I wanted to keep her memory alive by doing something she probably would have done. I turned our dream house into a luxury duplex and decided to give you first crack at it when you decided to move."

I returned his broad grin.

"Boy, you know you're something else, don't you? And how did you know that I was really going to move? I hadn't given you any definites."

"Yeah, I know. But I really listen to you when you talk. And you've been talking about moving forever. But, you never had any reason to leave. I thought you might take it a little more seriously if you knew you had somewhere to go."

"Oh, you know I would have jumped at the chance. I wish I had known about all of this sooner," I said, regretfully.

"What do you mean? My offer still stands. It's not too late," Desmond said.

I raised my eyebrows at him.

"Well, it doesn't appear that I'll be going anywhere for a while," I said, sarcastically.

"Well, you won't be in here forever, either. Have you even thought about what's going to happen when you get out of here?"

I really hadn't. I had been too busy feeling sorry for myself.

"No, but even when I get out, I probably won't be in any shape to move. Well, I could move, but I can't get a job if I can't walk. And I need a job to pay rent."

"I've been thinking about that, too. So, I came up with a plan. Why don't you accept the duplex and go ahead and move. I'll take care of everything. You need a new start after everything that's happened. In fact, we both do."

"Yeah, that's true. But I don't know if I'll be able to do much for myself right now. And I'm not comfortable leaving my support system behind in the shape that I'm in right now."

"I know," Desmond said, confidently. "I thought about that, too. I'm going to move into the apartment beside you. And I can be there to take care of you while you and Tomika could still have your own private space. You could kick me out whenever you get tired of me. And the hospital there has an excellent rehab program."

Unbelievable.

"You've really got this whole thing planned out, huh? I don't know what to say."

"Well, you don't have to decide right now. I just wanted you to know that regardless of how bad things look to you right now, you still have options. A disability, whether it's temporary or permanent doesn't have to ruin your life."

I smiled at him.

"Thanks, Desmond. I'm flattered that you would go through all this trouble for me."

Desmond kissed me gently on the forehead.

"That's your problem, missy. You've convinced yourself you that you're not worthy of good treatment. But nobody's more deserving to be treated like a queen, than you, your highness."

I blushed. Desmond always made me feel like a queen.

"You need to start thinking that about yourself. And I know that you're Miss Independent and don't need nothing from nobody, but its okay for you to accept help from others, sometime."

He tilted my chin toward him.

"This is not a time to be proud, okay? Everybody supports you and we just want to help. Let us help, okay?"

I nodded. I knew I needed to rely on help from other people, now. But it was still a scary thought that I may have to be at someone else's mercy for the rest of my life.

Desmond continued to lay out the plan he devised for after I was discharged from the hospital. He had checked into the hospital resources at the local hospital on the coast. I could have someone come into my home and workout extensively until I worked my way up to actually going to the center to work. He had even talked to Dr. Curtis, who had agreed to handle my long-term disability so I could still be covered while I recovered from my injuries.

He even had both of the duplexes customized for wheelchair access complete with a removable ramp just in case I didn't need it for long. He had a moving company on standby and had even checked into the school that Tomika would be going to during the year.

I was amazed that he had a mind to think of all these things and take care of his wife.

"Desmond, I don't know what to say," I said, bowing my head, humbly.

He lifted my chin again and looked into my eyes.

"Just say 'yes' to life, baby, while you still got some left."

Chapter 30

Did I Miss Something?

Like all the get-well cards on my windowsill and my bedside table, Maurice was becoming more and more of a fixture around my hospital room these days. I couldn't seem to get rid of him lately. I had mixed emotions about suddenly seeing so much of him. I liked the idea of having him around. I'd seen more of him since I got shot than I had the whole time we had been a couple. But while before I thought I could have stood seeing him everyday, now I wasn't so sure. He actually was getting on my nerves, sort of. I guess I had become so accustomed to not having him around, without realizing it I stopped needing him, really. I wondered why it took me so long to figure that out.

That particular night after everyone else had left to go home, Maurice still lingered around all quiet like something was up. It was like he wanted to talk to me about something but didn't quite know how to bring it up. I really wasn't in the mood for any foolishness at that time, so I lay in my bed in silence pretending to watch television, hoping he would get the picture and leave and go home.

He didn't. The nurse came in, asked how I was doing, and whether or not I needed anything. I told her that I was fine. Then she asked Maurice if he was going to be spending the night. He told her that he hadn't decided yet. Suspicious, I decided that whatever it was he was getting ready to hit me with would determine whether or not he would be tolerated over night. I rolled my eyes in the air, exasperated at the thought of a pending argument with everything else that was going on around here.

After she left, Maurice was ready to talk.

"E. Middle, have the doctors started talking to you about when they're gonna let you go home?" he attempted to ask casually.

"Not really," I responded. "They want to keep me here and do some more tests to see if the feeling starts to come back in my legs. I may have to stay in rehab for a while, until I finish therapy, I'm assuming."

"Oh," he said, thoughtfully. He looked a little sad.

"Why? What's wrong?"

"Oh, nothing. I was just thinking about what will happen when you get ready to come home. You're gonna need someone there to look after you. And I'm just trying to figure out how we're going to handle it, that's all."

I narrowed my eyes at him.

"What do you mean, 'we'?" I asked, cautiously. I had no idea where all this was coming from all of a sudden.

"I mean all of us, baby. Me, you, your parents, Baby Girl, and your girls. We're all in this together. And I'm ready for you to come home, so I'm trying to start thinking about how we gonna get you home and take as good of care of you as we possibly can."

_Yeah, right,_ I thought. Something was going on in his little mind. This was just a smoke screen to mask what was really going on.

"Reese, what are you talking about? You know good and well that none of y'all, including my parents can afford to stay home and take care of me. And there's no telling how long it might be before I can do anything for myself. I'm prepared to go to rehab."

Maurice shook his head.

"Man, please. 'Rehab Hospital' is just a fancy way of saying 'nursing home.' And I'm not trying to have you cooped up in no nursing home for who knows how long. You need to be at home where family can look out for you."

"Reese, you're being unreasonable. How are you gonna stay at home and take care of me? What are you gonna do, close down the shop? Because after what happened up in there, you sure as hell can't trust anybody to run it while you're home playing nurse to me. And besides, you couldn't be still around me for five minutes before I got shot, so how do you figure that you've settled down so much all of a sudden that you can stay home and take care of me? And in particular, give up your precious freedom and chasing that elusive, almighty dollar that you love so much. Even I know better than that."

I shook my head and rolled my eyes. He was taking this concerned boyfriend shit to the extreme. And I was tired of waiting for the real Maurice to hurry up and take over so he could do what he did best; disappear so that I could get on with my life. I had had enough attention from him to last me a lifetime. And oddly enough, I really didn't have as much use for it as I thought I did.

Reese was adamant.

"Look, E. Middle. Let me worry about that, okay? I'm just trying to do what's best for you."

I sighed.

"I know you are, Maurice. And I appreciate that. For real. But I've been doing some thinking about this, myself, and I'm the one who's going to make the decision about what happens after I leave here, okay? I'm paralyzed, not brain dead. So let's not do this, right now, please? I haven't even had this discussion with my folks."

"Okay, E. damn, I'm not trying to start no argument. I'm just trying to take care of what's mine that's all. At least let me feel like I'm being of some help, okay? You're my responsibility."

My patience was starting to wear a little thin from all this sudden display of overprotection from Maurice. I gritted my teeth and continued my attempt at civility. After years of yearning for Maurice to act like he was interested, it finally seemed to be happening. I was currently getting more than my fragile little ego could handle. But something inside me had changed. I no longer felt the need or the longing for him to take care of me. In fact, this whole conversation was making me tired and I was suddenly feeling suffocated by Maurice. And like a dog backed into a corner, I bared my teeth and prepared to attack.

"Why you so interested in what happens to me all of a sudden?"

Maurice chuckled, nervously.

"I've always cared, E. Middle. Why you trippin'?"

When in doubt, turn on the charm. Maurice was so predictable. And obviously he thought I was, too. This was the point in the conversation that I was supposed to melt because he showed a little emotion toward me, and then I was supposed to give him back control of the conversation. Not a chance. I had wanted to address some things with him for a while, but hadn't really had the urge to rock the boat until now.

"You're the one trippin', Reese. Don't you think it's a little too late to try and pull this Kevin Costner, bodyguard routine? Do I look like Whitney to you? Especially when we both know that you've never been all that interested in being around me for extended periods of time from the jump."

"C'mon, Ericka, why you always gotta keep going there? I know I ain't always made time to spend with you in the past. My bad, okay? But can't you stop being mad about that shit long enough to let me try and fix it?"

"But that's just it, Maurice. You can't fix it. You can't turn back time so you can show up before them niggas started brawling in Hot Wheelz. You can't bring back the feeling in my legs..."

Reese rolled his eyes like, 'here we go with this shit again.'

"Okay, Ericka. You made your point. I can't fix it. Is that what you want me to say? There, I said it. All this shit is my fault. I fucked up. But if I can't fix it, at least let me show you that I want to do right by you right now."

That would have been cool, except that I didn't feel like that right then. He should have caught me a couple of months ago. I folded my arms, defiantly.

"You know what? For the last six years you've made it painfully obvious that I'm not your number one priority. Hell, I'm not even in the top five. And I did everything to try and convince you that I was worthy of this relationship. But I could never get your attention. I know you love me. You're just not in love with me. And I was bitter about that for a long time. I couldn't understand why we could never seem to really connect. How could you be closer to some guys that hang out in the shop than your own girlfriend? You didn't even have the decency enough to call me and tell me that you were running late that day. But you called Tarik and he told you that I was there waiting for you. He was the one who told me that you got held up."

Maurice was sitting there with his head bowed like he was deep in thought. He didn't say anything. He just shook his head adamantly, periodically in disagreement with most of what I was saying. I kept talking.

"You hate for me to come around that shop, but it was okay for me to be there that day because you wanted me to park that damn BMW more than you wanted me at that shop. Let's see. You come first. Lil' Reese is second. The shop is third. The car is fourth. Your friends are fifth."

I shook my head and smiled cynically to myself.

"Told you. I'm not even in the top five. I never had a fighting chance."

Reese was getting agitated.

"See, E., now you just reaching for shit. You know it's not even like that. You always got to blow stuff out of proportion. You try to make it seem like I'm some evil nigga that treat you like a fucking dog when you know I always took care of you and Baby Girl since day one."

I waved my hand, dismissively.

"Listen, Reese. I never asked you to spend anything other than a little bit of your time every now and then. I never asked you for a damn dime. So, you can save the 'after all I've done for you' speech, okay?"

"So, that's what you been sitting around here pouting for all this time for, huh? Because you blaming all this shit on me like I orchestrated it. Well, if that's how you feel, that's how you feel. Blame me for everything that ever went wrong in your life, if it will make you feel better. But if you say that I've been neglecting you all this time, why not give me one more chance to love you and take care of you like I was supposed to from the beginning. I'm here now and I'm telling you that I wanna help, E. Middle. C'mon, now."

He reached down and kissed my cheek.

I rolled my eyes and gave his tired little speech a sarcastic clap.

"That's very noble of you, Reese, except for one thing. I don't need your damn help. And I don't need or want your twisted, thugged out version of love. It took my pride, my self-respect, and two bullets in my ass to figure out that being with you wasn't all that serious from the beginning. The dudes you hang out with must really look up to you for having your girl so much in check that you never get questioned about being in the street all the damned time. And I must seem like a real sucker to you because no matter how tired I claimed to be of your bullshit, I still take it like a champ on the regular. But guess what? I'm over the fact that you just weren't into me. 'Cause you know why? I got enough love for me for both of us. So, you can tell your loyal subjects that King Maurice is back and they can have you all to themselves. Not that you ever left, of course. I hereby relinquish my position on the throne. There wasn't enough room for a queen, anyway."

Maurice sighed deeply and rubbed his head like he wasn't sure what he should do. He sat there for a few minutes while he contemplated his next move.

Satisfied at having laid all my cards on the table, I didn't even pull a Martin Lawrence and tell him to "Get to steppin'!" I just sunk back into my pillows and began to watch television like he wasn't in the room. It would have taken too much energy to try and make him leave before he was ready. And after all that bitching, I was spent.

After a few more minutes of sitting there like an idiot, Maurice finally stood to leave. He looked at me for a long time, but I pretended to be engrossed in a Law and Order rerun. He broke his stare, leaned over my bed, and kissed me on the top of my head.

"I'll see you tomorrow," he said, simply, as if the conversation we'd just had never took place.

I rolled my eyes at him and turned my head to look out the window.

I'm sorry, did I just miss something?

Chapter 31

(Maurice)

She Wouldn't Do It with Me

"I'm not playing with you, Reese. I'm through playing with you, okay? Don't bring your ass back here. I'm sick of your shit," she yelled at my back.

I jerked around to face her.

"Or what, Ericka? I'm sick of your shit, too, okay? How long you gone keep trying to punish me? You been sitting around here with your ass on your shoulders ever since you woke up. Nigga, I love you, okay? You keep accusing me of putting everything else ahead of you. If that's the case, why am I up in here with your sullen ass taking this bullshit? Stop blaming me for all the fucking misery in your life! Yeah, I fucked up a lot since we been together. I ain't perfect. So you keep telling me. But keep it funky. Why did you even stay with me for six years if I was making you so miserable?"

Ericka rolled her eyes at me. She didn't want to hear what I was saying, but she knew I was telling the truth. I wasn't in the habit of talking to my girl like that and I felt bad for it seeing how she had been going through so much these last couple of months. But, I was tired of her trying to make me out to be some cold-hearted nigga that never gave a damn about her. She was hell bent on making everybody think that she was some saint for letting 'dog-ass Maurice' get away with taking her for granted all these years. She was too busy being mad about everything she felt I did to her over the last six years that she let her pride get in the way of any of my attempts at reconciliation. I was through being the bad guy. I needed to make her see that I really did love her. I needed for her to know that what I had been showing her wasn't necessarily the way that things were.

"I stayed because I've been waiting on you to notice me," she said, quietly. "I kept thinking that if I just hung around a little while longer that the spark we had when we first got together would come back. So, I stayed and I waited. But it never did. And it seemed like the closer I kept trying to get to you, the further you would move away from me. I was already in too deep to just walk away. And I didn't want to run the risk of leaving before you changed your mind about playing an active role in the relationship."

Ericka really had that drama queen act down to a science with all them dramatic pauses and whatnot. I'd had enough of that shit, too.

"Oh, yeah?" I asked, sarcastically. "If you were so stuck on me, then what's up with you and the married dude, E. Middle?"

She rolled her eyes up in the air.

"Please. Desmond and I were just friends and that's it. The only time that I called him was when I couldn't get up with you. And since you were never around, we just got to be mad cool. But it was safe for me to keep up the friendship because I knew that he would never do anything to jeopardize his marriage. And besides, all we did was talked on the phone."

"And you went to the beach with that nigga on your birthday. Don't forget that."

She looked like a little kid with their hand caught in the cookie jar, but she maintained.

"Nothing happened," she replied, coolly.

"Y'all had separate rooms?" I asked.

She hesitated.

"Never mind," I answered for her. "What were you about to say?"

"I know it was foul, but I split my time between the two of you, and I used him to pick up your slack. I was wrong, but I didn't know how else to get your attention. In a way, I kind of wanted you to find out because I wanted you to be jealous. I wanted you to think somebody else was taking what was yours so that you would notice me and come back around. I figured that you would start staying around me more so nobody else could move in on your territory."

I glared at her. My worst nightmare had been coming true right in front of me, but I had been too busy ducking Ericka to pay attention. I was trying to stay calm, but my blood was starting to boil.

"Stop the madness," I said to her, as calm as I could. "And tell the truth. You caught feelings for this nigga, didn't you?"

She shook her head, but I didn't believe her. I wanted to, but Ericka had been carrying that bitterness around like a badge of honor for a long time. And I knew that if nothing else, she had indulged that nigga in some way just to get back at me. But because I went so long without handling my business, I also had some fault in this. I didn't really want to, but I didn't have a choice but to accept what she said as truth.

"Look, babe. You don't have to lie to me about none of this no more. I know why you did it. And I accept the truth whichever way it comes. I'm a man. I'ma be alright."

"But, there's no need for us to keep going over and over this stuff, Reese," she said. "It's like beating a dead horse. It doesn't even matter, anymore. I don't want to talk about it."

I looked at her.

"What 'chu mean it don't matter? It does matter. I'm trying to fix my freakin' mess, here."

She shook her head.

"You can't fix it, Reese."

"I can, if you let me."

"Reese, I love you. But in six years, you never gave me a chance. You kept pushing me away. Now, I give up. You got what you wanted. Why don't you just leave it alone?"

I ignored her request to leave it alone. I had left it alone for too long as it was. And it looked like it was too late. But it was time to take action, regardless of how things ended up.

"'Cause I don't want to leave it alone. Look, E. Middle. We been playing this game long enough. I've been taking you for granted for years. And you been kicking it with this other cat for I don't know how long. And we both ended up getting hurt. So, that makes us even. Can we just put this all behind us and work this out? We been together too long to just give up on each other, now. I want you to be in my life and I'm trying to take care of you when you come home. I want to move in with you and Tomika and help you get back on your feet. What you say, babe? Let me prove to you how much I want this."

She got quiet for a few minutes. She looked like she was considering what I had just said. I felt relieved because I thought that she would give in.

She sighed, heavily.

"Look, I really appreciate you wanting to help. And I guess now, we are even. But things have changed since I've been in here. When I woke up from that coma and found out that I couldn't move, I realized how much time I wasted waiting on you to complete me. I also realize that it's not you that I should be mad with, I should be mad at myself. And now that I have a second chance, I think I need to be spending time getting reacquainted with me. So, now instead of trying to convince you that this is where you need to be, I feel like I need to let you go so that we can both move on with our lives. We've made each other miserable long enough."

I hung my head.

"Well, at least let me help you till you get strong enough to stay in your apartment by yourself."

She smiled, weakly.

"No, thanks. I won't be staying in my apartment when I leave the hospital. I've decided to move to Wilmington."

I looked at her.

"Move to Wilmington? With who?"

"I'm not moving with anybody. I was offered a townhouse by the beach and a job and I decided to take it."

I couldn't believe she was talking about moving and she didn't even know whether or not she would be able to walk. Ericka had really lost it.

"How you gon' take care of you and Tomika while you're out there all by yourself? And how you gon' pay your bills? You ain't in no condition to be trying to work!"

She got quiet.

I was getting irritated.

"What? You can't talk to me, now, E?"

"Desmond made all the arrangements," she said real quiet.

"What did you say?" I asked in disbelief.

She looked at me directly and spoke again.

"Desmond offered me the place and the job. He's even arranged for therapy to come to the house until I got strong enough to do stuff for myself."

I literally felt the knife slice into my back.

So, I guess that was my confirmation right there. If there had been any doubt in my mind about Ericka sleeping with this cat, Desmond, it was all gone, now. Why else would he offer to move her all the way to Wilmington and put her up in her own place?

"Oh, I get it. So, you have been fucking that nigga. For somebody that was so in love with me, you sure didn't have a problem letting somebody else take over my leftovers. And you was even good enough to get him to take care of you, too. "

"That's enough!" she yelled at me. "You got some nerve accusing me of sleeping with somebody else! You gave Desmond the motive and the opportunity. You were the one who came up with every excuse in the world about why we couldn't ever do anything together. You haven't given me as much as a second glance in the last four years and now you mad because somebody else paid me some attention? Well, unlike them niggas that you love so good at that damn shop, Desmond respects you. He ain't never stepped to me wrong, which is more than I can say for half of them! Yeah, I was wrong for spending time with Desmond that I should have been spending with you. But I never slept with him. He's my friend, and just like you, he wants to help. And I want his help. Don't get mad because I decided to stop running behind you for a change. This ain't got nothing to do with sex."

The heat was rising in my shirt collar.

"No, but it's got everything to do with you being a fuckin' liar. And then you got a nerve to blame this bullshit on me. You got me walking around here feeling guilty and shit, when your hands are just as dirty as mine. If you thought that I was treating you so damn bad, you could have left. I didn't have no damn chains on you. Why you didn't call that D. when your car broke down? Maybe if you had, you wouldn't have me to blame for you laying up in this hospital."

"Because I didn't want him, I wanted you," she said. Tears were streaming down her face but I wasn't feeling those damn crocodile tears. Ericka had turned out to be scandalous just like the rest of the chicks.

"I can't tell," I said, dryly.

"Well neither could I, but that didn't mean that I could just make a decision not to be in love with you anymore, Reese. Even though I had to be a damned attempted murder victim to pique your interest, I never lost interest in you. But as much shit as I put up with, you want to hold a grudge because of something you think I did to you? Well, that just makes this a whole lot easier for the both of us. We both fucked over each other and now we can just break up and move on. Now, I don't have to feel guilty about moving and you don't have to feel obligated to take care of me."

She turned her face away from me and stared out the window like I was already gone and she was in the room by herself.

"Man, whatever," I said, and stormed out the door. I didn't need this bullshit, anymore.

On the drive home, I couldn't stop thinking about what she had said to me. I knew that for years I had been neglecting Ericka in some way. Most of the time I didn't do it on purpose, but I had to admit that sometimes she could be too much woman. And I was overwhelmed with the responsibility of keeping her happy. It was like I was afraid to try and be happy with her. I was never happy with any of the women that I had been in serious relationships with.

Everything would be okay until we decided to make things official. My wife Toni and I were cool until after we got married. When we were dating we saw each other a lot but never really spent every minute in each other's faces till we moved in together. It was the same with me and Cassandra. As long as me and San were just kind of kicking it, things were straight. But things changed when she got pregnant. And me and E. Middle were a'ight till she started talking this exclusive commitment bull.

And the whole commitment thing scared me, honestly. Well, I guess it wasn't commitment, really. It was the women that scared me. Because women don't really know what it is that they want. And every woman I had been with claimed that they wanted to be with me, but when we got together, their actions said something different. We always had to go through some kind of drama and strife. Whether it was Toni's scared ass crying when I tried to have sex with her or San's crazy ass cutting the fool and throwing tantrums when she couldn't get what she wanted from me. Or Ericka acting like she didn't care whether or not she was my girl, but then getting pissed when she found out I had a baby by somebody else.

That accident that I had in high school scarred up a lot more than my face. It took away a lot of my confidence as a young boy trying to find his way as a man. I never got a real understanding of women because I spent most of my teenage years afraid of them. With my face all fucked up, I couldn't compete with those other cats that the girls at school went for and I was always afraid of getting shot down. Even the fact that I was an athlete wasn't enough to guarantee me no luck with the girls. I guess I kind of just latched on to whoever would be willing to take me on. And the fact that most of them were fine as all outdoors was a plus. I know that's crazy, but all kids want to be accepted. And every young cat want to have a fine woman on his arm so he can look big to the rest of the fellas. That's just how it is. I didn't make the rules.

But now that I think about it, Toni and me didn't even really have nothing in common. I doubt if she really even knew me after all those years of dating. Hell, I damn sure didn't know her. I didn't know that she had a problem with sex. Hell, I couldn't even get her to tell me why she wouldn't do it with me.

And I guess after all this time, I've come to realize that I've been afraid to put myself out there for any woman that I've ever been with because I was always afraid that she wouldn't be able to love me unconditionally. And now that I finally found a woman that would, I couldn't trust her judgment enough to let her. I ran her off into the arms of another brother. And even though Desmond was married, he at least had her friendship. The way it looked right now, it didn't look like she wasn't interested in having anything else to do with me, friend or otherwise.

Chapter 32

In my Element

It hurt like hell to watch Maurice walk out of my life that last time. Part of me wanted him stay and grovel until I broke down and gave him one last chance. That part of the routine had been in place for so long, that deep down inside, I was all set to take him back. That's what I had always done. I truly believe that many couples stay together not because of love or money. Kids don't even keep most of them together. It's fear of stepping outside the box and doing something different with their lives. People get so caught up into what's familiar and what's comfortable that sometimes we never even get a chance to experience new and different things. And being at death's door puts life in a new perspective.

I had to say good-bye to Maurice so that I could say hello to all the new experiences that were waiting to enter my life. I still didn't know whether or not I would have full use of my legs or whether I would even get to live life normally like I did before, but those were issues that I just couldn't allow myself worry about at that moment. My main concern was trying to jumpstart the remaining part of my life after being at a complete standstill for most of it. It was a scary thought. But it was also pretty exciting.

For the most part, the rest of my friends and family were supportive. They thought that I was crazy to up and leave my support system at such a fragile period in my recovery, but they seemed to trust my desire to start over and live a different type of life. And nobody ever told me that they didn't think that I should go. Instead, they all pitched in and did everything they could to make my dream a reality. Even Tomika seemed to be relieved that we were moving. She didn't really make a big fuss about leaving her school and her friends. I think she was just excited about the prospect of having her Mommy home from the hospital.

After spending the remainder of the summer confined to a bed, I was just glad to be able to be outside in the fresh air. And it was not just any air, but crisp, ocean air.

A couple of weeks after being discharged from the hospital, Desmond drove Tomika and me to Wilmington to see our new home. As soon as we drove up I could see why Sonia had been so attached to this house. It was a large Victorian home with a wrap around porch. And although it was across the street from the beach, the view was incredible from anywhere in the house.

The large windows throughout the house allowed for spectacular natural light. Desmond had redone the hardwood floors and had painted the living area a soft sandalwood color that would nicely compliment my earth tone furniture and decorations. The kitchen was a sunny yellow and I had a nice size office that directly faced the ocean with a desk turned in the direction that I could sit in and enjoy the view while I worked. Part of the deck was closed in as a sunroom with a staircase that led up to the second floor of the house. The main part of the house also had a staircase that led up to the bedrooms on the second floor. There was a chair lift rigged up to the banister so that I could get up and down the stairs without effort. Both Tomika and my bedrooms were huge. Desmond had built window seats in our windows that opened up for storage. Tomika's room was painted Carolina blue, her favorite color and mine was mint blue with a chocolate accent wall . But my bathroom was my favorite color, fire engine red and it was big enough to fit ten people easily. There was a garden tub, as well as a wheelchair accessible shower. The shelves were lowered in all the closets. Even the cabinets were dropped lower than in normal houses.

"I see you left no stoned unturned," I joked with Desmond.

He smiled.

"I tried not to. And the beauty of it is that this can all be changed back whenever you're ready. I can take that chair railing off the stairs. I can even move the cabinets back to their normal height," he laughed.

"No, I wouldn't make you go through all that. But seriously, Des, this is the most beautiful place I've ever seen. I can't believe that we're actually going to live here."

"Yeah," Tomika chimed in. "I even got enough space in my room to practice my kicks for Tae Kwon Do."

"Oh, that reminds me," said Desmond. "There's a spot open in Wesley's class for Tomika, so she can keep up with her martial arts."

He bowed to Tomika and then assumed the left fighting stance. Tomika reciprocated and they proceeded to chop and kick at each other like they were Maven and Chun Lee.

I laughed and shook my head at them.

"Y'all are not gonna be sparring up in here. Make me round house both of you back out the door."

"Mommy, you can't kick in that wheelchair," Tomika giggled.

"Yeah, but I can run over you with it," I joked with her, maneuvering the chair toward her.

She screamed playfully and ran toward the back door.

"Don't go far," I called behind her.

"I won't!"

Next we took a tour of Desmond's townhouse located directly next door. His was almost the same as ours, but he had three bedrooms instead of two. The two extra bedrooms were for whenever Tomika and I came over to spend the night, he added, winking. His living room was painted a chocolate brown and it was furnished with heavy matching leather furniture. It was decorated in a typical male bachelor pad fashion, but it was neat and orderly and actually had many contemporary additions to the décor to make the place interesting. It didn't even need a woman's touch. He had done a good job decorating all by himself.

Next, we went downtown to take a tour of Desmond's office and my new place of employment. Desmond belonged to a group of black investors that got together and bought almost a whole block in Wilmington's downtown area and put black owned business in the buildings.

In the 1800's, Wilmington was a thriving city where many prosperous black people lived very successful until the Wilmington Massacre in 1898. During that time, the black businesses were destroyed and burned to the ground and the people were killed or run out of town.

In the spirit of the ancestors who lived and thrived there before, this group of investors pooled their money and opened new businesses to make the city more inviting to black tourists, as well as cash in on the booming general tourist revenue. It was a savvy business move.

Desmond was one of the founding members of the project and had quickly established himself as the best in the building renovation business. Because his wife had strong ties in commercial real estate, together they had acquired several old houses and buildings downtown that Desmond had been remodeling and flipping them for a nice profit. The old Victorian that was now our home had been sold to him at a steal and he and his team turned it into a beautiful duplex.

It did my heart good to see black people being able to make the kind of power moves that are normally only made by very rich white men. And I was hungry to learn as much as I could about the business.I had given up the opportunity to go to college and study business when I finished high school. But as I listened to Desmond talk about how he acquired his renovation projects and city permits, I felt tingly on the inside because it appeared that I was finally in my element.

Some of the businesses located in our immediate area included a Starbucks, a couple of restaurants, a gym, a hair salon, a clothing store, as well as an old fashioned butcher, bakery and fruit stand. There was also a bar with a cozy nightclub upstairs that had become a really popular part of the downtown nightlife. It was apparent that the idea to rebuild the block was successful from watching the mass of people of all different shades and background hustling in and out of the shops, sitting outside in front of the restaurants enjoying the food in the sunshine.

It felt good that our people were supporting such a major part of the city's downtown economy. And I felt honored to be a part of it. By the end of the day, I was ecstatic about my decision to make a fresh start in a place where new beginnings appeared to be flourishing. I was going to be just fine.

Chapter 33

No More Climbing Stairs

Not surprisingly, Maurice honored my request for him not to come around anymore during my healing process. But this time, I didn't feel as though it was really his conscious decision to stay away. Deep down, I never doubted whether or not Maurice really loved me. The problem was that he wasn't capable of loving me the way that I wanted and deserved to be loved.

And even with these realizations, it still discouraged me that I was not yet able to completely move on. There were times when I would pick the phone up to call him and realize what I was doing and sadly put the phone back down. We had been a couple, but just like the rest of my circle, I still considered him to be a friend, as well. Not just a friend, he was part of my family. And a small part of me regretted making the decision to cut him completely out of my life. Well, no need to dwell on the past. That was part of my problem. I had given the past way too much of my energy. And it was time to focus my energy on my present and future.

My girls were so helpful to me during my transition. Renee took me to my therapy appointments in her minivan because it was easier to maneuver in and out with my wheelchair and everything. And Renee and Toy came over to lend a hand wherever they could. They were sad to see me go, and they only agreed to let me move because I was moving to the beach. They all agreed that it was a perk having me move there. They looked at it as being able to take a free vacation.

Even Dr. Curtis was extremely supportive of my decision to move. She agreed to keep me on as a paid employee and even paid to have my computer rigged with the software to do her dictation and her past due accounts from home until Desmond got his office up and running.

My family and friends were a big help during the moving process. Desmond even hired movers to come and pack up all my things and transport them to the new house. But in that wheelchair, I still couldn't help but feel useless. I had been working extra hard in physical therapy, but the feeling didn't seem to be coming back into my legs fast enough. I wasn't feeling like I was playing an active role in changing my life. Watching everyone else buzzing around me moving things around in my house made me feel like a bystander in someone else's transformation. I knew that the feelings I felt were the enemy trying to convince me that I had made the wrong decision. So, instead of making them real by giving them a voice, I prayed and asked the Lord for strength and healing and patience. And then I ordered everyone around like a drill sergeant, making sure that I was able to hold on to as much control over my transition as possible.

My therapy team on the coast was wonderful. The feeling in my lower body finally started to come back and before long, I was able to walk with crutches from one side of the room to the other. But I had yet to gain the strength needed to use them on a regular basis. I had an occupational therapist that assisted me in learning how to maneuver around the house in my chair to cook, clean, and take care of Tomika. And eventually, I would even gain enough strength to support myself on the countertops in the kitchen to cook.

As usual, Tomika proved to be the most versatile little girl ever created. She fell in love with her school and everyone in it on the very first day. She became instant friends with the neighbor children and her social calendar filled up immediately. Between Tae Kwon Do, her new Girl Scout troop, and daily excursions at the beach with her friends, I found myself at home twiddling my thumbs a lot.

A couple of days after the moving company set down the last of my stuff, and I absentmindedly assumed the task of sifting through the never-ending boxes that were the last ten years of my life. The movers had been nice enough to place all the boxes in the rooms for which they were marked. The kitchen boxes were placed in the kitchen; the boxes marked bedroom were placed in the bedroom, and so on.

Even still, I quickly became overwhelmed because most of the stuff required placement somewhere in the house that I couldn't reach without assistance, and I had more than grown tired of having someone else to help me with it. And although I appreciated everyone's help, I couldn't help but feel a sense of resentment for even having to ask for help at all.

I was beginning to question whether or not I had made a wise decision by moving. Maybe this wasn't such a good idea after all. Sensing my frustration, Desmond, my hero, jumped right in to rescue me, as usual. He began to unpack stuff, just like he didn't have his own stuff to unpack next door. We were in my office/den and he had opened one of the many boxes of books and began to place them on the built-in bookcases.

"Okay, Ericka, which way do you want me to organize these books on these shelves? Do you want fiction on its own shelf and non-fiction by itself, or all of them together in alphabetical order, or does it matter?" he inquired.

"Um, put all the novels on the lowest shelf so that I can reach them. But don't put anything in the hutch yet, because I think I'm going to use that for all my work related stuff," I responded, thoughtfully. "Then again, don't worry about those books right now because I need to go through them all. I need to get rid of some of this mess."

Where did all this crap come from? Those four huge boxes of nothing but books were making me nauseous.

Sighing heavily, I added, "I'm never going to get all this shit unpacked."

Without hesitation, Desmond scooted the box of books in front of where my wheelchair was parked, then straightened up to face me. He looked at me like he was waiting for me to say something else.

Puzzled, I asked him, "What are you doing?"

"Waiting for you to tell me which books you want me to put on the shelf."

"I told you I needed to go through that stuff."

"I heard you," Desmond said with a slight smirk. "So, start digging."

"D., with all these books I got in here, that could take days. You got your own stuff to do at your own house. I don't want to keep you over here doing all my dirty work. I can manage. Really,"

Desmond squatted down in front of my chair until we were eye to eye.

"You don't get it, do you? Do you really think I coaxed you two hours away from all your family and friends, whom you could depend on to support you just to leave you in the middle of all these boxes for you to fend for yourself? Ericka, what do you think I am, a sadist? Maybe you didn't hear me at the hospital. I'M GOING TO HELP YOU! Okay? I know you're used to being Miss Independent, but right now you need me. And I'm not going anywhere, anytime soon, so get used to it."

His attempt at being firm slowly gave way to a wide grin. He gently touched my face.

"Buck up, missy. I don't mind. Really, I don't. If I did, I wouldn't be here."

"But, I can never pay you back for all this, De."

"I'm not looking for you to repay me, Ericka. And besides, you've given me more than enough already. While I was taking care of Sonia, it was you who got me through some of the roughest days of my life. You were the one who encouraged me to keep going when I wanted to give up. Hearing you talk about your dreams of having a beach house and owning your own business encouraged me to keep looking for light at the end of the tunnel. And now, I'm here to carry you just like you carried me."

"But how was I able to do all that? I never even knew that Sonia was sick. Well, I did, but I didn't know she was your wife, or that you even had a sick wife. How could I have possibly been so supportive? And besides, all I did was complain about Maurice."

He chuckled.

"Yeah, you did do a lot of that. But you never gave up hope that things would get better between you two and in your life in general. Your zest for life is contagious. You love to ride motorcycles, for goodness sakes. You're the only woman I know that owns a crotch rocket."

I couldn't help but laugh.

_I don't just have any old crotch rocket,_ I mentally corrected him. I had a Kawasaki Ninja top of the line chromed out crotch rocket with red candy paint.

"Well, doesn't look like I'll be riding that too much for a while."

"See, that attitude is priceless. Other people in your situation wouldn't be so daring as to suggest that they might even have a chance to get back on it. But I hear it in your voice that you have every intention of riding that damned bike again. Your can-do spirit is what I love about you. You don't even want me to help you go through these doggone books even though it will probably take you till next year to sift through all this junk by yourself."

I was glad to hear that the vibes that I was sending out were positive because at that moment I wasn't feeling all that optimistic.

"I never thought about myself as being an inspiration to anyone, especially you. In fact, with all that you had going on; I'm surprised that my bitching didn't finish sucking the life right out of you. When I really get going, I can be somewhat of a whiner," I admitted, emitting a faint laugh.

"That's true," he joked. "But the difference between you and other whiners is that most whiners whine standing still. But you whine in the midst of actively searching for a way out. Just like now. You're complaining about how much work you have to do here and all the while puttering around in this house trying to do everything by yourself. Except that now, you're basically whining for no reason because you actually have more help than you could ever know what to do with."

I laughed harder. He was right and I was embarrassed to have been acting so ungrateful.

"Sorry. I'm a lousy patient, huh? It's just so scary having to get around in a wheelchair. I see people in them all the time but I guess I never thought about how restricting it could be. I've never even so much as sprained my ankle. It's driving me nuts to hardly be able to do anything hardly for myself. And it's demeaning to have to ask people to do small stuff like put books on the shelf when I've always been able to do everything for myself."

My mood immediately turned somber again and suddenly I didn't feel so jovial, anymore.

"That's why this therapy is so important, E. You've got to concentrate on getting your body back in shape so you can beat this. Instead of letting thoughts of what you can't do anymore sink you into being depressed, let it piss you off enough to work extra hard in physical therapy. The harder you work, the faster you'll progress."

"I tried that. I got mad and tried to go upstairs by myself without using the chair lift last night. I got tired and fell back down when I got to about the fifth step."

A look of horror came over Desmond's face.

"You did what?"

"Calm down," I replied, nonchalantly. "I didn't hit my head and I had left the wheelchair at the bottom of the stairs, so I was able to pull myself back into it."

"Dammit, Ericka! I meant for you to use that energy for therapy, not pull a stupid stunt like that when you're here by yourself. You could've really gotten hurt. What if you had hit your head and had to wait till morning for one of us to find you?"

I shook my head.

"I know. But I thought if I pushed myself hard enough, I could do it. And besides, a little bump on the head doesn't scare me nearly as much as not ever being able to get out of this damn chair."

Desmond leaned over and gave me a tight squeeze.

"Look, missy. I wish I could tell you that you were definitely going to get out of that wheelchair tomorrow and be able to take a stroll with Tomika and me down at the beach. I really do. But the truth is, none of us know what's going to happen. The best thing we can hope for is to improve your quality of life as much as possible so you can get your swagger back. And if nothing else, therapy will help you learn to do most stuff by yourself again. But you still have to stay positive, work hard, and take care of yourself in the meantime. So that means no more climbing stairs when I'm not here. You got it?"

I nodded.

"I'll call the therapist and make sure that it's okay for you to practice taking steps, on the ground, of course, with me between sessions. But you have to promise me that you won't do anything crazy like that again. Promise?"

I looked sideways at him, but remained silent.

"Ericka?"

"Oh, all right," I huffed. "I promise."

"If I catch you doing anything like that again, I'm going to start tying your ass down in this chair before I leave here every evening."

I couldn't hold it in, anymore, and broke out in peals of laughter.

He threw a towel at me.

"Ooh, I just love a man who knows how to take charge," I cooed, playfully.

"Oh, you ain't seen how forceful I can be. Let me catch you going up those stairs again without using that chair lift and see what happens."

Chapter 34

Stop a Bullet Like 50 Cent

I eventually coerced Desmond into allowing me to come to the office and work twice a week so I could get a jump on what I would be doing and have a say in the decorations in the office. And I also wanted to meet the clients as they trickled in to get familiar with our new surroundings. Desmond was worried that I was doing too much too fast, but I assured him that I wouldn't over exert myself.

With all the fuss that he constantly made over me, I was surprised one morning when he called and requested that I be ready in an hour because he had a meeting with a very important client and I should be there.

_Finally, some action,_ I thought to myself. I was excited about the fact that he was finally treating me like a real employee. I was beginning to think that he just coaxed me to come out here so he could fuss over me like a mother hen.

After I had finally settled into Desmond's Suburban, I noticed that he was unusually quiet. I figured this must be some high powered celebrity or someone who had millions of dollars wrapped up in a business renovation project.

"So, what's the urgency? Who're we meeting with today?" I asked, curious.

He smiled. That man's grin could still light a fire under my skirt.

"You'll see," he said, simply.

"Is it Michael Jordan?" I pressed. Michael Jordan was the logical choice since he was originally from Wilmington.

He shook his head.

"No, but he did play ball. And I'm not saying anything else."

I turned to look out the window. It would be futile to keep probing Desmond for information. I had more than learned that he could be the most secretive man I knew. But I still couldn't help but wonder who this mystery client was. Whoever it was, I was glad that I had dressed to impress for the occasion. I wanted to make a good impression, and besides, he might be fine, single, or both.

A tall, handsome gentleman approached the vehicle as we pulled up to the curb. I would know that tall drink of water anywhere. It was Germane Jacobs. He had recently had his jersey retired in New Jersey after a lengthy and steady career in the NBA.

"What's up, Des," said Germane, warmly taking Desmond's hand.

"Ain't nothing to it, man," returned Desmond with a million-dollar smile.

"Germane Jacobs, I'd like you to meet my administrator and partner, Ericka Middleton. Ericka, this is NBA great, Germane Jacobs."

I smiled big.

"No need for introductions, Mr. Jacobs, I've followed your career since you played at NC State in the eighties."

He smiled appreciatively.

"My friends call me Gee. And any woman that's a fan of basketball is a friend of mine."

I blushed. Wow. I was rubbing elbows with NBA stars. Taking your life back had its advantages.

"So, Gee. What brings you to Wilmington? You own a business here, too?" I asked.

"Well, I'm on the board of directors who actually put the plan of obtaining the real estate into action. I don't have a business here, but I have a portion of the controlling shares in the venture."

Damn. Fine and business savvy.

He continued.

"But, my fiancée is opening up a paint and body shop here. The grand opening is in a couple of weeks."

"Oh, cool. Congratulations. I just moved to the area. I'd like to meet her sometime."

Oh, well. There goes the notion of dating an NBA star.

He smiled.

"Good. 'Cause here she is, now."

I turned my head in the direction of his smile and screamed.

It was Toy.

She ran over and leaned down to hug me in the wheelchair.

Desmond was still grinning from ear to ear, and Germane seemed to be confused by the whole scene.

"Oh, my God, Toy? When did you get engaged, heifer? I didn't even know you had a boyfriend!"

She laughed.

"And you prissy bitches thought I played ball everyday because I was trying to be a man."

She gave Germane a warm embrace and an affectionate peck on the lips. It was so weird; I had never seen Toy behave that way toward a man before.

Still obviously puzzled, Gee asked, "You two know each other?"

"Yeah, baby," she chuckled, "this is my best friend, Ericka. You know, the one who can stop a bullet like 50 Cent?"

I playfully gave Toy the finger.

Gee looked at Desmond who was thoroughly enjoying the scene.

"Man, you were in on this, too?"

Desmond held up both hands.

"Guilty as charged, man. Toy and I ran into each other a couple of weeks ago at Starbucks. That's when she told me about her shop and the engagement. But she swore me to secrecy because she wanted to surprise Ericka."

Germane smiled.

"Wow, it's a small, small world. Well, that's alright. Man, we gonna have to double date once y'all get through with our house. But you know, business before pleasure."

Desmond and I smiled, nervously at each other.

"We're not a couple," we said in unison.

"Oh, for real?" asked Germane, surprised. "My bad. Could've fooled me."

"Umm, baby, don't you and Desmond have some things to go over about the house?" asked Toy, taking the heat off Desmond and me for a moment.

"Oh, right," Gee said, thoughtfully. "Well, it was nice to meet you, Sis"

"Welcome to the family," I said, shaking his hand, again.

"I'm taking E. to lunch while you guys talk business," Toy said.

I looked at Desmond, hesitantly.

"Technically, I'm supposed to be working. Don't you need me in this meeting?"

Desmond smiled.

"No, missy. This was my sole purpose for bringing you here. You two go on and have a good time. I'm sure Toy has lots to tell you."

Chapter 35

Bitches Eat Crow

What a surprise it was for me to find out that she was going to be living so close to me; especially when I had just moved away to a town where I thought I wouldn't know anyone but Desmond and Tomika. But I was even more surprised to find out that Toy had a boyfriend. She was not a lesbian and she was not bisexual. She was indeed all heterosexual woman and had actually made a pretty decent catch for a so so-called butch.

Damn. She was engaged to the most eligible bachelor in the NBA. She told me that they had met at a summer league basketball tournament a couple years ago at St. Aug. In the summertime, a large group of teams get together from all over the area and play the whole summer. And many times, NBA players that went to college in this area at Carolina, State, or Duke come home and play in the off season. Many greats like Jerry Stackhouse and Tracy McGrady have been spotted playing at summer league. We go there all the time hoping to catch a glimpse of some of the ball players that we watch on television.

But Toy is one of the few women that actually get to really rub elbows with them because she actually plays side by side with them every summer. She explained to me that they met after she was able to intercept him on a crucial play in the game while he was going up for a dunk. Toy is only about five-foot-nine, but she has a mean vertical. Germane was impressed that a woman was able to stop him from making the basket and asked her out to dinner after beating her team in the game that night. She only agreed because he didn't ask her like it was a date. He made it seem like it was a friendly, one of the guys' thing. They really hit it off and they had been keeping in touch every since. He gave her season tickets to the Nets games, and she has been faithfully attending. We all naively thought that she was just a big Nets fan. No wonder she never let me go with her. I had been begging her to take me to a Nets game for months.

She never told any of us that she was dating him or anyone else for that matter. She said she wanted everything to be a surprise. And besides, she wanted to watch all of us bitches eat crow after all the allegations we hurled at her about her sexuality and she wanted to rub it in our faces collectively that not only did she have a man, but she had a great basketball star. She swore me to secrecy until the open house at her mechanic shop in the next couple of weeks.

It killed me that I wasn't able to get on the phone and call the other two and tell every thing I knew. I was actually feeling kind of lonely, because I was used to talking to my girls so often. So having to keep the secret meant I couldn't call Renee or Natalie because I might blab it out by accident. The good thing about that was that I used that excuse to call Toy everyday and get as far up in her business as I possibly could. She pretended to be annoyed, but really she was grateful to finally have someone to share her happiness with besides Germane. And while she was in town putting the finishing touches on her new shop, she and I spent our spare time talking about her wedding plans and shopping for dresses.

Chapter 36

I'm Gay. Remember?

After a couple of more weeks of preparation, the time finally came for the grand opening of Toy's auto body shop. It was called simply and appropriately, 'Toy Car Repair.' Her opening coincided with a special event put on by the people who made the whole downtown development project possible. The development committee put on a huge block party, closing the streets surrounding the businesses they created and held a whole host of events. Among the events were live music and entertainment for the kids, an open house with samples of each business's goods, and a heath fair sponsored by the primary care practice that had set up shop.

Toy had got together with Maurice and put together a car show on display as part of her grand opening. She and Reese partnered together and offered discount goods and services as marketing strategy to a select number of customers in exchange for their participation in the car show and celebration. Reese supplied the new rims and Toy gave them a custom paint job at half the price to display their vehicles so that all the people who attended the festival could see examples of her work.

The festival was an overwhelming success. My parents came to town, as well as Natalie, Renee, Maurice, Tarik and all the kids. It was really awkward seeing Maurice for the first time in a couple of months. Since we didn't part on the best of terms, I wasn't sure what to expect when I saw him. It was awkward for the rest of the group, as well. Not only would my immediate family have a chance to witness our first post-break up meeting, but a group of Reese's friends and colleagues were there, as well because they had cars entered in the car show.

When we saw each other, I forced a smile and we gave each other a stiff embrace. Luckily, Reese and I were separated most of the day. After the initial welcome to Toy's grand opening, I joined my family and friends in the rest of the festivities of the block party, while Toy, Maurice, and crew stayed behind to prepare for the car and stereo judging.

The day was quite a success and when it was over, we all retired back to Desmond's and my duplex to continue our celebration. Everyone, including Maurice, Tarik, and even Sonny came back to our house. They loved my place and the decorations I chose to make it cozier. And after they saw our view of the ocean, everyone agreed that our moving to the beach was the best move that Toy and I ever made.

On the way to our house, we also took a tour of Toy and Germane's new home, which they wouldn't live in together until after they were married. Germane would move in once it was finished and until then, Toy lived in a condo that she had purchased, not too far from her new shop. Everyone oohed and ahhed over the old-school immaculate home. Toy and Germane were delighted with the work that had been done to the house so far. Desmond and his company had done a fantastic job with restoring the house to its original condition while adding many modern upgrades. He was truly the best at what he did.

Once we made it back to our house, we finally got a chance to catch up on each other's gossip. The rest of the girls were shocked and excited to hear about Toy's engagement and of course, we both got cursed out for keeping it a secret.

"Y'all are the most secretive heifers I've ever seen in my life. Before we move on, anybody got anything else they want to confess?" Natalie asked.

Renee had been unusually quiet ever since we started talking wedding plans. We all noticed, but we had been so busy gushing over the wedding, nobody took the time to ask. Toy looked at her.

"Renee, your mouth has been unusually quiet tonight. You got to be hiding something."

Renee rolled her eyes at Toy.

"What you mean? Y'all been so busy talking a mile a minute that I ain't had a chance to say nothing. Then you gon' accuse me of being quiet. All of y'all make me sick."

"Well, damn, excuse me for being excited about snagging an NBA player," said Toy, playfully displaying sarcasm.

Then she slapped Natalie and I high fives.

"Okay?" shouted Nat and me in unison.

Natalie cleared her throat in an exaggerated motion and held up her hand. It was then that we noticed she was wearing an engagement ring.

I narrowed my eyes at the diamond sparkling on her hand.

"I know that ain't what I think it is," I said.

Toy playfully punched her in the arm.

"Bitch, no you didn't just accuse us of keeping secrets and you been walking around here all day sporting a rock and ain't said a word."

Natalie laughed.

"Well, my fiancée ain't rolling big enough to put a disco ball on my hand like yours. I guess you just didn't notice."

We all took turns hugging Natalie.

"Girl, bout time Tarik stop being so damn scary. Y'all been together almost ten years," Toy said.

"It wasn't just Tarik," Natalie told her. "Girl, I wasn't ready to get married. Savion will be fourteen in a couple of months. I'm set in my ways. Why you think we never moved in together? And besides, four more years and Savion is grown. I'm bout to get my life back in a major way. Hell, I was thinking about moving to Jamaica after he goes to college. I'm like Ericka. There's too much life out here that I haven't experienced yet."

She took my hand.

"Girl, you are my hero. The way you just up and moved like that away from everybody, including your man? Got me to thinking about whether or not I was missing something by tying myself permanently to Tarik."

"But you obviously decided to say 'yes.' What made you change your mind?" Renee wanted to know.

"Well, both Savion and Tarik's daughter are about the same age. And neither of us really wants anymore kids. So, we agreed that it would be more fun to have new experiences together as a unit. And besides, we're not rushing to have a wedding. I'm not trying to compete with Toy's Starr Jones extravaganza. I'm okay with getting our reformed lesbian here over the broom before we even start talking about planning my wedding."

Toy looked sideways at Nat.

"Natalie, don't get your head busted in here, okay?"

We all laughed. Toy would be married a long time before she would be able to live down the dyke stigma with us.

"Well, damn," I said, shaking my head, "I'ma be the only old maid in the group. Y'all jigs ain't gonna use me as a cover up when you get bored with your husbands and start cheating with other men, now!"

"Girl, please. if I ain't had a urge to cheat on Tarik in all this time, you know I ain't going nowhere," Natalie said, dryly.

"Yeah," followed Toy, "and you know I ain't trying to be with no other men. I'm gay, remember?"

We all roared with laughter.

"Well, that makes me feel a lot better," I said, sarcastically. "Even 'Butch' here managed to find her a husband. I'm the only one here with no man," I whined, plaintively.

Renee spoke up.

"Well, not necessarily, Ericka," she said, slowly.

We all stopped joking and looked at her.

"What you mean, Renee," Toy asked her, suspiciously.

Renee looked down at the table.

"Terrell's gone."

I stared at her.

"What do you mean, 'gone?'"

She looked at me; tears threatened to fall from her eyes. But she wouldn't let them.

"He walked out on me about a week ago. Said I was smothering him. He needed space."

We all immediately went over to her and surrounded her in a group hug. Terrell and those kids were her world. I couldn't imagine what she was going through.

"It's gonna be okay, baby. Maybe once he's gone for a little while, he'll realize that he misses you and come home," Toy said soothingly. It was odd hearing Toy speak to Renee like that because they were almost always at each other's throat.

"Yeah, Renee," added Natalie, "just keep praying and make sure you keep the lines of communication open. There had to have been a breakdown somewhere. He didn't just up and leave on the spur of the moment."

"I'll tell you where the breakdown was," Toy spoke up. "Renee, I'm sorry, baby, but there's too much communication going on your part and not enough on his. I told you a long time ago, you were going to run that man away with all your bossy nagging."

"I know. I think I blew it this time, y'all," she said, quietly.

"Not necessarily. You just need to tell him that you realize where you went wrong and ask him to come home so you can work on it. That's your husband, girl. And if you want him, you gonna have to fight for him," I added.

Toy looked at me.

"Not bad coming from the only woman in the house with no man."

I smirked and gave her the finger.

Then Toy took Renee by the shoulders and looked her in the eye.

"Now, you listen to me," she said sternly. "When you get Terrell back home this time, remember this. Whenever you get the urge to argue with him, instead of using your mouth to talk him to death, use it wisely and give the man some head. It's the best way to keep peace in your house."

We all howled in laughter. Even Renee couldn't control the urge to laugh.

After Toy lightened the mood again, Natalie suggested that we take a ride back downtown the next day to look in the bridal boutique around the corner from our office. Toy pretended to be exasperated over the fact that we had almost taken over her wedding as we laughed and giggled and made plans to get her hitched. But I know that she was truly glad to have her best friends in the world there to help her. Besides, had we let Toy do all the planning, she would have just had us meet her in Dillon, South Carolina, where everybody I knew that couldn't afford to or didn't have time to plan a wedding got married. Neither was the case for her, but Toy didn't have a clue about planning a wedding, and actually seemed appalled at the fact that she had to wear a dress. She needed us now, more than ever.

They had set a date in late April before it got hot, and to our delight, she and Germane decided to rent out the Henrietta II cruise ship to have the reception. During our tour of the area shops that afternoon, we took a tour of the boat and had all agreed that the Henrietta was a great place to have a wedding reception.We bombarded her with all of our ideas while all the fellas went to Desmond's house and had drinks and played dominoes. Later, the guys came back over to my house to eat and to play a hot game of Taboo. After a while, somebody remembered that we were right across the street from the ocean, so everyone kind of abandoned the game to go outside and explore the area. Maurice cornered me on the back deck after mostly everyone else had gone to the beach.

"You need any help with anything?" he asked.

"Nah, I think I'm straight. But thanks," I replied.

"You got a nice little setup, here," he remarked.

"Thanks. We like it here a lot."

"Looks like the beach is agreeing with you. You're looking good," he said, nervously.

"Thanks," I said, looking at my feet. "So are you."

"So...you a'ight?"

"Yeah. I'm good, actually. What about you?"

"I'm straight. I see you just about put that wheelchair down for good. That therapy is really helping you," he said.

"Yeah, I'm hoping to get rid of this cane by Christmas."

"It'd be good if you could walk down the aisle at Toy's wedding without it."

"Yeah," I said, looking out at the waves crashing against the sand.

We stood there in uncomfortable silence on the deck watching the rest of the crew across the street at the beach, frolicking in the water.

I noticed that Reese had gradually inched close enough to me to touch my hand, as I propped against the railing of the deck. I stood there pretending not to be uncomfortable.

Reese took my hand and turned my body to face him.

"I miss you," he said.

"Don't do this," I said.

"I'm not trying to mess your head up, E. Middle. But you need to know that I still love you no matter what. You said that you didn't want me around, so I stayed away. But when Toy called me and asked me to do that car show with her, I couldn't say no. I had to see you. And I need to let you know that my offer still stands. If you need me for anything, I want you to call me, okay? I don't care what it is."

He took my chin in his hand.

"You heard me?"

I nodded my head, actually pulling off that brave front that I had pretended to have. But I was still a little weak when it came to Reese. And I still kind of missed him, too. Before I could respond, Tomika came bounding up the back stairs.

"Unca Reese, can you take me across the street to the beach?"

The spell was broken. That was close. He looked at Tomika.

"Yeah, baby girl. You ready to go, now?"

She nodded, enthusiastically, and then turned to me.

"Mommy, you coming?"

I smiled at her.

"You go on with Uncle Reese, baby. I'll be there in a few minutes."

I watched them as they crossed the street together, hand in hand, feeling sad about the decision I made to let go of Maurice, but happy about everything that letting him go allowed me to grab hold to.

"...and Then I woke up.":

Chapter 37

Home Again

Everyone was having such a good time that instead of driving back to Raleigh that evening, we decided to have an old fashioned slumber party. All the guys stayed over at Desmond's townhouse and all the women stayed with me. We laughed and giggled and actually stayed up later than the kids, reminiscing about high school and boyfriends from back in the day, drinking wine, and eating junk food. The next day, the girls and I went out to eat breakfast before heading out to the bridal boutique while the fellows decided to take the kids fishing.

We had a marvelous afternoon and by the time everyone left, I had mixed feelings about seeing them go. I truly missed having my girls at my disposal and although I had Toy, I missed being able to go to Renee's and eat when I didn't feel like cooking or Natalie's spontaneous trips to go wine tasting or to ride go-carts or play Putt-Putt golf. But at the same time, I was ready to let them go because I was so anxious to get back to my new life that I had found in Wilmington.

I was doing things for the first time in my life that I never even dreamed that I would be interested in back home. I had wrapped so much of my energy in developing a relationship with Maurice; he had become my only interest. I didn't have a clue about what I really liked to do until I moved away. The only thing I really enjoyed was riding motorcycles, and I wasn't sure if I'd ever be able to do that again. In the short time I had been at my new home, I had actually developed a social calendar. For the first time, I belonged to a book club, which was really exciting because I've always loved to read. And I was hosting this month's meeting at my house. So, in that aspect I was kind of glad to see them go because I had a lot to do to get the house ready for outside guests. I had also gone to a couple of spoken word events at the Ramada Inn and had written a poem that I planned to recite at the next one. Tomika and I had even gone on a murder mystery cruise on the Henrietta II cruise ship, which actually turned out to be a lot of fun. The people who take the cruise are given certain roles to play in this mystery, but no one knows who the 'killer' is. It's your job to figure it out.

However, there was one event in my life that was fast approaching that I wasn't looking forward to. And that was the trial of Kane, the guy who shot me. The DA had been hounding me for months about testifying, which I didn't see the point, since I never actually saw him pull the gun. But because I had witnessed the whole dice game thing, I think they wanted to find some testimony that would eventually lead them to a case against Maurice. And I had a problem with the court using the victim to damn someone else besides the one who committed the crime against them. I was praying that somehow they wouldn't need my testimony until the sentencing phase because I heard that the guy Kane was shooting at mysteriously came forward and turned himself in and told the whole story. Even though he had warrants out for his arrest for a string of armed robbery and kidnapping charges. And it was also my understanding that there were no deals to be had on either of their parts so he was going down either way.

Not only was I getting involved in a lot of new, fun things, my job with Desmond's restoration company, Home Again was working out great, as well. I was more than just a receptionist, I was more like the director of operations and what I said went. Desmond relied on me for everything in the office and whenever anyone had a problem or question, he always told them that they had to run it by the 'boss lady.' And I loved being the boss lady. He compensated me well, and he allowed me to basically come and go as I saw fit leaving me time to volunteer at Tomika's school or be there for her when she needed me. And when I told him that I wanted to return to school, he went with me to the university to talk to a counselor about the admissions requirements. Then he insisted that I work around my class schedule and even gave me half days a couple of times a week to study. Desmond had turned out to be the best boss and friend I ever had. And the funny thing was that the animalistic attraction that we originally had for one another seemed to be fading. Not that we weren't as close as we were before. We had actually gotten closer, but the course of our relationship had changed. It had almost become more of a brotherly, sisterly relationship. We were still affectionate to one another, but it was limited to friendly hugs and pecks on the cheeks, and oddly enough, it wasn't awkward for either of us to assume the roles of platonic companion and confidante. We were always at each other's homes in the evenings, eating dinner, watching movies, or playing with Tomika and we had become a great non-traditional family and support system.

My life was definitely on an upswing, but it was not without its share of setbacks. Not only was I not interested in attending that trial, I would have loved to be able to progress in my therapy a little faster. Although the doctors describe my case as remarkable, I was still get discouraged about not being able to do more. Don't get me wrong, as grateful as I was for being out of that wheelchair, I still couldn't help but feel resentful about having to walk with a cane. The fact that someone turned me into a cripple trying to harm someone else is something that I had a hard time getting past. I hated not being able to walk at a normal pace, anymore and having to use one of those mobile carts in Wal-Mart or the grocery store. I hated not being able to ride my motorcycle. I hated not being able to jog on the beach. And most of all, I hated not being able to keep up with my nine-year old like I used to. The one up side to having Tomika at a young age was having enough energy to run and play along with her, but since I got out of the hospital, I felt her slowing down so not to get too far ahead of me. She's such a thoughtful child. If she'd get ahead of me when we're walking somewhere, she always turned around to make sure that she didn't leave me too far behind. She made me feel like I was hindering her from being a little girl because she had to wait on me now like I used to wait on her. And the last thing that I want to do is make Tomika feel guilty about leaving her dear, old crippled mama. I thought that if I got active and kept my mind occupied that I wouldn't have these types of feelings, but it was when I was out trying to be active that I was constantly reminded about my new limitations. Desmond suggested that I take the hospital's advice and go through a counseling program for survivors of violent crimes. I politely took the information, but never thought about calling the number because counseling ain't for black folks. But Desmond reminded me that I came to Wilmington for a new start and that not only did new beginnings come from adopting new hobbies, but also adopting new ways of thinking. So, I promised him that I would call the counselor first thing Monday morning.

Overall, I was very pleased with the decision I made to move away. I couldn't deny that I still had strong feelings for Maurice but since I finally went out and got a life, for once my emotions were forced to take a back seat. Even with the demons I was dealing with surrounding my injuries, there were too many other positive aspects of my life that I no longer had the time to be miserable and dwell on my failed relationship. My life had changed drastically and although I missed Maurice, I no longer felt the need to have him validate me with his affection. And I was proud of the way I handled my solo encounter with him, even if Tomika did come and help me out a little bit. But I couldn't shake the fact that he looked so handsome and he smelled so good when he hugged me at the car show.

I chuckled in spite of myself as I lay down to bed that night while reflecting on the best weekend I had had in a long time. I fell into a deep, blissful sleep.

I must have overslept because the sun was mercilessly blinding me even though I had not yet got up to pull the curtains. I drug myself out of bed to get breakfast started, although Tomika probably had strewn cereal from the kitchen to the den in front of the television, where she knew she wasn't supposed to have food. Before I could round the corner good, I noticed that my refrigerator was left open again. I had been through this before, but this time I was ready. 'What's he looking for in there, this time?' I thought to myself. We had been here so many times before, to act surprised would be insulting.

"Alright, refrigerator raider, I don't have any whipped cream or chocolate syrup for you this time. So you can come out, now." I said, dryly.

As I approached the fridge, I froze in my tracks and stood with my mouth wide open.

"What? Who were you expecting, Desmond?" Maurice asked slyly, sporting a towel and a wide grin.

I jerked up in my bed in a confused state of panic. Now that was definitely new. In the six years that I had been with Maurice I had never had a dream about him; especially an erotic dream. Why the hell did I dream that after all this time? Not only was I confused, I was completely turned on. I thought once again about taking a cold shower. Instead, I laughed heartily out loud and rolled over to go back to sleep, as I dismissed the notion. It was then that I realized that although I may have taken a temporary leave of absence from the job of dating, it was perfectly okay for my eyes and my imagination to remain actively employed.

(THE END??)

