Double Pleasure, Double Pain Read online

I nodded, since I had a mouthful of food.

  She took a bite of her bagel and didn’t respond. She seemed to be contemplating something because she suddenly shook her head no.

  “What’s up?” I asked her after getting my food down.

  “You just reminded me of a time when a friend of mine set me up on a blind double date with her boyfriend’s cousin. I decided to meet them at the restaurant so I could make an escape if I needed to. And I barely made it through the appetizers before I pretended to use the phone and said I had to get home to Jaron.”

  “Was it that bad?”

  “Girl, yes! He was such a typical man. Arrogant, everything was all about him, and he was so sure he was going to take me home that night.” She paused, still thinking. “I don’t know why my friend did that to me anyway. She knew I wouldn’t be interested. I don’t even know why I went.”

  “You don’t date at all?” I asked her. Surely the girl had to have a little fun in her life.

  “Sure, I date.” And she left it at that. And I figured I wouldn’t pry anymore.

  “So what do you do when you’re not working, at school or with Jeff?” she wanted to know.

  “I usually hang with my best friends, Tori and Vanessa. Both of them are pretty busy with work, which is why we set our girl time for Monday mornings. We also get together on Friday nights. Other than that, next to homework, I spend time at home reading books or watching movies.”

  “Do you have any plans this weekend?”

  “Friday night we’ll be doing our group thing, and Saturday Jeff is headed up north for a conference. Tori is working, and Vanessa will most likely be preparing for her big news interview.”

  Her eyebrows raised in excitement. “Are you talking about Vanessa White?”

  “Yes.”

  “For real?” she asked as her sparkling eyes widened. “We went to Eisenhower Middle School together. I love her work! I’m always searching the paper for her latest report. That girl does some serious investigative reporting. She’s not afraid to ask the questions we all want answers to.”

  “I know, she’s fantastic!” I thought for a moment. “It’s a small world, isn’t it?”

  She nodded in agreement. “Girl, you know this city is small. Too small at times.”

  “I already told both of them about you. I’ll have to let her know that you’re one of her former classmates and admirers.”

  “You told them about me? What did you say?” She looked flattered.

  “That I met this really cool person at school that I think can help me find my way,” I said.

  “Find your way . . .” she said with a smirk.

  “Yes,” I answered.

  “Hmmm . . . oh, back to this weekend. On Saturday my department is having a picnic, and I was wondering if you were free to go.”

  Damn, this was only the second time I met the woman and she already wanted to hang out outside of class? Funny thing was, so did I.

  “That sounds like fun,” I said. “Do I get to meet the little man?”

  “Yes, my baby is coming. Call me Saturday morning. We can meet at my place and I’ll drive to the park.”

  “Here, take my number,” I said grabbing a pen and writing my number on a napkin. “Department store clerks don’t have cards.”

  “That’s temporary,” she responded. “Social workers do.”

  I held up my water in a toast (as you see, I toast to everything). It was time to go so I started gathering my things and so did she.

  After we paid our bill, she surprised me with a quick hug when we stood up.

  “See you Saturday,” she said.

  “Okay,” I responded, smiling, my eyes glued to the floor.

  Steph grinned at me as I passed her while she held the glass door open when we walked out. She seemed delighted by my unprecedented onset of bashfulness. I was thrown off by it too. I returned her smile with all the confidence I could gather at that moment and headed to my car.

  Turns out that Saturday was going to hit a record high temperature of 95 degrees in September. And not a hint of a breeze, just hot-ass humid air.

  I spent the first couple hours of the morning tidying up my place as best I could. My apartment was so small, I couldn’t squeeze a new floor plant anywhere even if I wanted to. But it was worth the luxury of living within walking distance of the lakefront.

  During my years of school, I also found that interior design wasn’t a specialty of mine either; therefore, one of the members of the design team from Eden’s helped me out, thanks to my parents footing his bill. Alvin was a fine gay white man who flirted endlessly and harmlessly with women about their boyfriends. He often threatened Tori that he could snag any of her men right out of her hands, and teased Vanessa that all he needed was five minutes alone with Roger in the men’s bathroom and she’d find Roger desiring to marry him instead of her. He took special amusement in badgering me about Jeff, asking if he lived up to the notorious stereotype about black men. I had informed him that he could never turn my man out, that Jeff was dedicated to me and only me. I mean, who gets turned out at his age?

  Because there wasn’t enough room for a full couch, Alvin decorated the living room with a cream-colored leather love seat and chair, covering them both with large red and mustard pillows. A red and mustard–striped rectangular rug covered the hardwood floors, which held a glass coffee table covered with my favorite magazines, Ebony and Essence. I used to keep books on my table, but too many guests who borrowed the books and never returned them forced me to switch to magazines instead.

  In the corners of the wall with the balcony doors stood two ceiling-high tree plants in orange baskets. Large black-and-white pictures ranging from Miles Davis to Martin Luther King, Jr. graced my walls between the black African masks I started collecting as a teenager. The room was definitely busy, and almost didn’t match, but Alvin styled it based upon my favorite colors and the personality chart he had me complete.

  Oh, last but not least, a wall-mounted, flat-screen TV hung on the wall in front of the love seat (um, I forgot, that was part of my birthday gift too). Jeff drooled over that TV for weeks after I first got it. He found any and every reason to come watch a basketball game during the play-offs, and would hop his ass out of bed to watch Good Morning America as soon as his eyes cracked open.

  I had seen him off to his conference in Appleton early this morning, and since he would be gone until late Monday morning, I was glad I had someone to spend my Saturday with.

  Considering it was going to be as hot as the Fourth of July and I was spending most of my day outside, I decided on a lightweight, knee-high khaki skirt with a white, scoop-neck cotton shirt with a low dip in the back. I hoped it wasn’t going to be too revealing for a business picnic, but hey, emphasis on the word picnic. Silver earrings and white slip-on sandals completed the ensemble. I pulled my shoulder-length hair back into a ponytail, hoping it wouldn’t be too hot on my neck.

  I decided against the toast foundation I normally wore and opted for loose powder to control the shine. I accented my dark brown eyes with black eyeliner and mascara and finished up with copper lipstick. I packed my makeup bag for afternoon touch-ups and grabbed my car keys.

  Steph lived on the northwest side of town in an apartment complex that used to have a waiting list to get a unit. Now they’re lucky if they can get anyone in who isn’t on rent assistance. The neighborhood had slowly become a more challenging place to live, and Steph expressed her desire to move when I called her this morning for the address.

  I pulled into the complex and parked next to her Chevy Malibu. I saw an adorable young boy standing on a patio bouncing a basketball. I knew it was Jaron because he had the same striking light brown eyes as Steph. I got out of the car and walked over to him.

  “You must be Jaron,” I said, extending my hand to shake his.

  “Yes, I am. Hi,” he said politely.

  “I’m Kyla. I’m coming to the picnic with you today. Is your mom inside?”


  “Yes. I’ll tell her you’re here.” He dropped his ball an inch away from my big toe and ran inside. He came back holding his mother’s hand, guiding her in my direction. She approached me and gave me a gentle hug.

  “You look nice today,” Steph said, giving me the once-over. “I’m glad you could join us.”

  “Me too,” I replied. “Can you believe this heat?”

  “I know, it’s crazy,” she replied. “Let’s go get this over with,” she said as we walked to her car.

  On the way to the park I talked to Jaron about fourth grade. He told me that fractions were new to him and that he hoped to understand them better soon.

  I said, “Guess what? Math just happens to be my favorite subject, so if your mom doesn’t mind, I can come and help you sometime.”

  “Can she, Mommy, can she?” he asked excitedly.

  Steph grinned at him through the rearview mirror. “Of course she can.”

  During the drive I caught her sending affectionate smiles at Jaron through the mirror or while we waited at a stoplight. The love she felt for her son was evident.

  Once we arrived, Steph parked in the lot at Brown Park, and we all walked to a crowd of employees and their families. I suddenly wondered what happened with the relationship between Steph and Jaron’s father. She hadn’t mentioned him yet. I figured he must have done her wrong, since she seemed so turned off to dating.

  Steph introduced me to her boss, a tall, slim man with a strangely shaped head. He told me I could call him Dick. Go figure. There was only one other African American there, a slender older man with a handsome face and salt-and-pepper curly hair. I got an odd vibe from him when he shook my hand. He looked at me as if he knew something I didn’t know. It bothered me, so as we were preparing our plates of bratwursts and chips, I asked Steph about him.

  “What’s up with Mr. Man over there?” I said, pointing. “Is it me or did he look at me funny?”

  “Jerome? Girl, he looks at everyone I bring around funny. He’s been with us five years and he asked me on a date shortly after he started. I turned him down, and ever since, he’s real shady with me. It’s too bad, considering it’s just the two of us. But when it comes to equal opportunity and affirmative action in the workplace, we know how to stick together.”

  “I’m glad to hear that. I’m always amazed when I meet an African American who doesn’t believe in affirmative action. Can you imagine where we would be without it?”

  “Back in the cotton fields,” she said.

  “You know? Sad, but true,” I agreed.

  Steph and I mingled for what felt like eternity in the heat. So this must be what hell is like was all I kept thinking while I was trying not to melt into the ground.

  Most of her coworkers seemed overly friendly when Steph would introduce me. Some of them nodded their heads saying, “Oh, okay,” as I shook their hands. And then I could feel their eyes burning a hole in my back when I’d turn around and walk away. I wondered what that was all about.

  We finally found shade under an oak tree and sat while we watched Jaron play with the blond-haired children of Stephanie’s coworkers. Of course he brought his basketball with him and I watched in amazement as he played other games without ever putting his treasured ball down.

  “Looks like you have a future ballplayer over there,” I said, admiring his skill.

  “That child of mine hardly ever stops bouncing that ball,” Steph said, smiling. “A basketball hoop will be a must when we buy a house, which will be very soon, hopefully.”

  I wiped my sweaty neck with my hand. “Girl, I’m about to fry!”

  “Here,” she said, taking a piece of ice and carefully wiping it across my open back. “How’s that feel?”

  I closed my eyes and let the dripping water cool my skin. When I opened them, Jerome was staring at me with a repulsed look on his face. What was his fucking problem? I turned toward Steph, and she answered my question before I could ask.

  “Don’t sweat him. He’s just jealous it’s not his back.” Steph threw the ice into the grass and dried my back with a clean napkin. “I’ll see these folks bright and early Tuesday morning, so I’m ready to go. Will you get Jaron for me?”

  I went and played cans with Jaron while Stephanie said her good-byes. It sure had been an interesting afternoon, to say the least.

  Getting into the air-conditioned car felt like stepping into a movie theater on a hot summer day. I laid my head back and closed my eyes. I didn’t even realize I had fallen asleep until Stephanie turned the car engine off outside of her apartment.

  “Welcome back, sleepyhead,” she said when my eyes opened.

  I stretched my arms and shook a kink out of my neck. “I didn’t know I was so tired.” I yawned. “Must be the heat.”

  “I feel it too, but if I take a nap now, I’ll be up all night. And I don’t want to be up all night unless I’m doing other things,” she said deviously. “Do you want to come in for a while?”

  I checked my watch. It was 5:30 P.M. and I didn’t have shit else to do that night. “Sure, I can stay a while,” I said as I stepped outside of the car and walked toward her complex.

  The atmosphere of Steph’s apartment was warm and inviting. Her living room was decorated in neutral, earth tones with a soft brown leather couch and love seat. There was a big-screen TV with PlayStation games sprawled in front of it. Pictures of elegant African women hung on her beige walls with a nude black marble statue of a woman with upward outstretched arms next to the fireplace.

  “This is beautiful,” I said, touching the woman’s face.

  “That’s one of my favorites. I have two more in my room. A close friend of mine gave that one to me a long time ago.”

  I sat on the plush couch. “Where did Jaron go?”

  “Girl, he hopped out of the car before you opened your eyes. He’s over at the ball court, where else? Would you like something to drink?” Steph asked.

  “Do you have any cranberry juice?”

  “With a twist of vodka?” she asked, grinning.

  “I’ll save that for later.” I laughed.

  She brought me a glass of cranberry juice and sat it on the table.

  “I hope you don’t mind, Kyla, but I have to take a quick shower. I don’t like feeling this sweaty. I’ll be out in five minutes.”

  “Go ahead,” I said.

  Her shower gave me the opportunity to give myself a tour of the rest of her apartment. The kitchen was small but clean, with Jaron’s schoolwork hanging on the refrigerator with magnets. A picture he drew of him and Stephanie titled My Family hung in a magnetic frame. His bedroom was every little boy’s dream, decorated in dark blues and greens with a racecar bed. I noticed there was no picture of him and a father figure on his nightstand, though there were two of him and Steph.

  I didn’t venture into Steph’s room, since that would have been way too bold on my part for this first visit. I went back to the living room to drink my juice. I looked at several pictures on the end table. A picture of Stephanie as a child, another young girl, and adults that must have been Stephanie’s parents were in a silver heart-shaped frame. A picture of Jaron sat in a frame that read THIRD GRADE across the bottom. The picture that caught my eye was of Stephanie a few years younger. She had her arm around what I assumed was her mother’s waist, and her other arm was around a beautiful woman about our age. Next to that woman was an older woman with similar features. Each woman was dressed in evening attire, smiling brightly at the camera as if a celebration were taking place. Steph came into the room just as I put the picture down.

  “Beautiful picture. That’s your mom?” I asked, pointing to the woman who looked like an older version of her.

  “Yes. And that’s Michelle on the right with her mom next to her. We had just come from an annual church dinner where her mom had been selected mother of the year. Not only had she raised fantastic children, but she led the youth group at church. She was a fabulous woman,” she said, reminiscing.


  “Why do you say was?”

  “She died shortly after that picture was taken. Breast cancer. She didn’t tell anyone until it was too late. She said she didn’t want to worry everyone and that God was taking her when she was ready. She said it was her time.”

  “How sad. How did Michelle take it?”

  She let out a loud exhale. “They were very close so she took it really hard. I tried to be there for her, but she wanted to deal with it alone.” Steph studied the floor and then looked back at me with a faraway look in her eyes. “She eventually moved back to North Carolina to be with her father.”

  “Do you still talk to her?”

  “Umm . . . not really. But I think of her often and pray that she’s all right.” She stared at the picture from across the room. It was obvious that she was close to these people.

  We sat and talked about everything, school, music, and current events. I learned that she went to my rival high school and was a star athlete in track, though she never attended any other sporting events. This would explain why I didn’t see her at the overcrowded basketball games between the two schools, even though I spent my last two years doing cheerleading routines at halftime. Her music interests ranged from R&B to rock to classical. She pulled out a Janis Joplin album and introduced me to one of the rocker’s most famous songs, “Me and Bobby McGee.” Steph also shared that one of her uncles was a well-known state senator who successfully implemented a health-care bill for the benefit of the unemployed. She was so easy to talk with and it felt like I had known her for years, not two short weeks.

  Before we knew it, Jaron came in and announced he was ready for bed. I raised my eyebrows in astonishment because I had never met any child that willingly went to bed at a decent time, especially on a Saturday. Steph had him in check.

  I looked at my watch and realized it was almost 8:30 P.M. and dark outside. The time had gone so fast. As Jaron went to get himself ready for bed, I took my glass to the kitchen and prepared to leave.

  “Do you have to go?” Stephanie asked.

  I wasn’t really tired, but I figured I had taken up enough of her time already. I didn’t want to wear out my welcome. “I just thought you might want some quiet time.”