The Exchange Page 5

  Asia was waiting for me in the family room. The television was off, and no music played. She simply sat on the oversize couch in the quiet. That was when I got nervous. I could sense that even though I wanted to remain on our highway, she was about to put up a roadblock.

  “Come sit,” she instructed.

  I didn’t bother to remove my coat or gloves or the purse strapped over my shoulder. I sat next to her. Her eyes, those penetrating eyes, looked into mine.

  “What’s going on, Kyla?”

  I didn’t want to respond with “What do you mean?” because I knew exactly what she meant. How to begin my explanation was my quandary. I had played the beginning of this conversation so many times in my head. Should I recite that beginning? I’m bored, Asia. Only now, the rehearsed conversation had evolved. And Angie seems to be helping to cure my boredom. Although that was the truth, I didn’t believe that was the appropriate beginning. I thought of a new one. You’ve probably sensed something is wrong, and I’m sorry. I’m prepared to work on being better and getting back to my usual self. That was the truth too, but I knew the conversation would quickly swerve to Angie and the day’s events. I knew Asia knew something about Deidra, or she wouldn’t have asked specifically about her. I just hadn’t been able to react naturally when she called, my mind and body too deliciously frazzled by the heat of Angie’s body and her words.

  “First, let me apologize for not coming to you sooner,” I began. “I know I should have.” I paused. “For a while I have felt our relationship hasn’t been as exciting as it used to be.”

  She stared and waited. Her expression blared that all she wanted to know was what was up with Angie.

  “I’m also sorry about Angie. I, um, I don’t want her to become a problem in our relationship.”

  “Tell me, Kyla, why is it that you’re apologizing for Angie? Exactly what happened that brought about this apology?”

  I squirmed inside, though I was determined not to shrivel under pressure and stammer over my words, the way I used to. Hell, the way I had when I talked to her just an hour ago. The less honest I was, the more of Asia’s respect I would lose. I wanted to “be a woman,” something she had mentioned the other night, and tell the truth, in hopes that she would accept it and grant me forgiveness.

  “As you know, Angie and I have been talking a lot more since she and Deidra broke up. I really only wanted to be a good friend to her, help her through a hard time. It seemed right away Angie hinted that she had never really got over the relationship we had, and, well, I have to admit that I started to wonder myself what might have happened if I hadn’t ended it.”

  “So now you and Angie would like to call what you had a relationship? I didn’t realize that was what it was,” she stated condescendingly.

  I sighed. “We don’t need to debate that again. You know what I mean.”

  “I just want to be clear on all the facts, that’s all,” she responded smartly. “You’re apologizing because you and Angie regret not pursuing a relationship?”

  “I didn’t say that.”

  “Then what are you saying?”

  “That talking to her and spending one-on-one time with her made me wonder a little bit about what it might have been like . . . had we tried to be together.”

  Asia sat back, cool. “That’s normal, Kyla. I’m not suggesting I like what you just said, but it’s only normal to sometimes wonder what life might be like if you had made another decision. That doesn’t bother me. It would only bother me if you’re dwelling on that missed opportunity and regretting the choice you did make. Is that the case?”

  I had told half the truth. I was dwelling on it, but I hadn’t reached the point of regret for the choice I made to end my intimate relationship with Angie after I met Asia. “No, that’s not the case.”

  She tapped her fingers against her thigh and squinted at me while she constructed her next question.

  “You said our relationship hasn’t been exciting. I would agree. Is this your answer for that? Angie? Your friend? Your ex–fuck buddy? The woman you’ve had in my face for the past nine years? She’s what it’s come to?”

  “I wasn’t looking for this to happen,” I explained. “For Angie and Deidra to break up and cause some kind of... kind of spark in my life. I’d rather it be with you.”

  “Spark?” She snickered. “That’s what Angie is creating for you? Did you do anything to create a spark for us, Kyla?”

  And so the imagined conversation begins.... “I didn’t. But I want to.”

  “You want to what? Make up for feeling guilty about Angie and make it better with us?”

  I couldn’t stand her powers of perception sometimes. “Yes.”

  “I wish you had come to me . . . come to me before it became so easy for something like this to happen. I realize we haven’t been the Kyla and Asia we were years ago. Some days are more eventful than others. I get that. But that’s how relationships work, Kyla, and either you stay dedicated and faithful through those times or you don’t,” she scolded.

  “I have been faithful. Nothing has happened between me and Angie.”

  “Oh no?”

  “No. Why do you suggest that? Did Deidra say something?”

  She laughed. “Funny you ask if Deidra said anything. That makes me think she did see something.”

  “Nothing has happened,” I repeated. Even though Deidra interrupted what might have been a kiss, the fact was, we hadn’t kissed.

  “Deidra gave me the impression that she caught you two in a compromising position. Is that true?”

  I warmed again, as if Angie’s body still rested against mine. I didn’t answer.

  “That’s what I thought.” She sat quietly for a moment, her temperature rising as well. She was angry, and her cheeks were flushed under her dark skin. She snapped her fingers. “I have an idea. Why don’t I give you a little time to think about how you feel? Let you figure out if you made the right decision with Angie.”

  She had begun to stack the barricades. I panicked. “What do you mean?”

  “I mean just what I said. Go on and be sure it’s not Angie that you want.”

  “I don’t want Angie. I already told you that.”

  “No, you didn’t say that. But I don’t believe you, anyway. I can tell you really don’t know what you want.”

  Before I could respond, she leaned forward, ran her fingertips across my face, and then placed her hand behind my head. She brought my face toward her and kissed me. She kissed me deeply and passionately, more intensely than she had in a long time. It was as if she was asking, “Is it me or her?” taunting me with her tongue wrapped around mine.

  “I’m going upstairs. Alone,” she announced. “You can stay down here or in one of the guest bedrooms.”

  “What if I want to stay in my own room?” I asked, pushing back.

  “Then I’ll stay in a guest room. Good night, Kyla.” She walked toward the hall.

  I looked at my watch. “It’s five o’clock.”

  “Yep. Good night,” she said without turning back to me. I heard her run up the stairs, and several seconds later the door to our bedroom closed.

  I sat back on the couch and exhaled. That hadn’t gone quite like I thought it would. My plan was to explain my feelings, to let Asia know I would get past this temporary infatuation with Angie, and to remind her that my life with her was all I wanted. Instead, she had left the matter unresolved. Actually, she had left it open, as if I was seriously contemplating leaving her for Angie. If I were in her position, and she had confessed feeling temptation with another woman, I might have given her the same option. What person wanted to know that her partner was attracted to someone else? Not just physically attracted, but emotionally connected as well. It was hard to know which was worse: the desire to just fuck someone or actually allowing someone to have a piece of your heart.

  Finally, I took my coat off, removed my shoes, and lay on the couch. Thoughts danced through my mind as I considered how I mi
ght proceed. I had accomplished part of my mission by admitting that I felt a lost spark in our relationship. I wasn’t sure what to do next. I could take Asia up on her offer, whether she meant it or not, and test the waters with Angie. Maybe I should spend more time with Angie to see if what I felt was real, to determine if the flame I felt for Angie was a growing fire I couldn’t put out. Or if it would extinguish on its own as swiftly as it ignited.

  If I explored Angie and spent more time with her, I would risk losing Asia forever. Surely, she wouldn’t take me back if I suddenly attempted to return upon discovering that Angie was only a phase. Asia would slant those beautiful eyes at me in retribution and say to herself, How dare you think you can come back to me now, Kyla? The more I thought about it, the more I couldn’t imagine that Asia was serious about me exploring my feelings for Angie. She must have wanted me to run behind her and plead my love for her, not date someone else. Then again, Asia had always been no-nonsense. Would she really have suggested I entertain the thought of a romantic relationship with Angie if she didn’t mean it?

  I curled into a tight ball, like a captured fish, as if the weight of my thoughts was crushing me in a net. My mind struggled, flopping back and forth between Asia and Angie, until finally it grew tired and slowly succumbed to rest. When I woke up, it was 9:00 P.M. and dark. The house was quiet. I figured Asia must have fallen asleep too.

  My cell phone buzzed. I picked it up and learned I had missed two calls, both from Angie. She had also sent one text. Please call me. I rolled back over, stretched, and quickly made up my mind to call and see what Angie had to say.

  “Are you all right?” she asked upon answering the phone.

  “Not really,” I confessed. I spoke low into the phone. “What’s up?”

  “I wanted to make sure you were okay. You drove off so fast.”

  “Asia was calling, and I had to get home,” I told her. “Plus . . . I really needed to go. Things were kind of intense.”

  “I know.” I felt I could hear her smile through the phone.

  I was quiet and angry again that I hadn’t already put a final stop to this. Something selfish inside me wouldn’t let it go. I liked the thrill Angie gave me. I acted like that bored housewife in the movie Unfaithful. She had no reason to cheat on Richard Gere. She just did it, and her one decision caused injury to many.

  We remained silent, and our silence, as it tended to, spoke the words we were contemplating whether or not to share.

  “Asia home with you?” she finally asked.

  “Yes.”

  “Let me guess. Deidra told Asia she saw us, didn’t she?”

  “She sure did. And it’s not good.”

  “Well, nothing happened yet, so you should be good, right?”

  My chest tightened. “No, it’s not good. I, um, I told her how I’ve been feeling lately.”

  “Oh?” She was intrigued. “And how is that?”

  I sighed. “I’m not sure if it’s a good idea to share that with you. I need to deal with this on my own.”

  “I’d really like to know, Kyla, how you feel. . . .” Her voice trailed off. “Will you tell me?”

  Before I could answer Angie, an irate voice startled me in the darkness. “Who are you talking to?”

  Asia turned on the hallway light and revealed her presence. I squinted at the sudden light; then nervously and cowardly I hung up the phone and set it to my side. I didn’t answer Asia, only met her gaze. I was guilty. She stared back at me for a moment, and I heard every angry thought she didn’t speak. Finally, she shook her head, turned off the light, and went back upstairs. I wished I had heard her come down.

  My guardian angel, whether she was real or imagined, quietly tiptoed away and left me to continue the fateful decision-making process on my own. I picked my phone back up and replied to Angie’s question via text. Yes, I’ll tell you. Meet me tomorrow.

  Six

  Asia

  She was like the leopard that never changed its spots. No matter how much she willed them to disappear, underneath they were always there. I should have known Kyla couldn’t stay faithful to me. What angered me most, why I was more pissed off than hurt, was I felt like a fool for having allowed it to happen. For being silly enough to trust Kyla, a woman who had had her face between the legs of half of Atlanta’s gay women. On occasion I had even been embarrassed to be seen with her. I preferred not to go out with Kyla often not just because we had gotten older and didn’t need to be in the club every weekend. It was also because we’d run into all these women with whom she had slept. We both would lower our heads in shame. Still, sometimes I would suck it up and go out with her confidently, proud to be the woman who had changed her. I guess I really hadn’t, after all.

  Kyla knew I didn’t take kindly to mistreatment in a relationship. I had shared that with her during one of the very first conversations we had, the one in which I told her my ex-girlfriend took all my money to support her other woman and her children. Was this any different? Taking my heart and then, after all these years, considering giving her own to someone else? That angered me more than if she had taken my money too. That was more personal.

  I had given Kyla the open door to explore the confused feelings she was experiencing right now, and I meant it. But had I expected her to be hiding out in the dark, cuddling with a pillow on the couch, whispering on the phone with Angie already? No. I had expected her to follow me to the bedroom and demand forgiveness. I had expected her to prove her love for me. I had given her almost four hours, and when she hadn’t come up to see me, I’d gone down to her, only to find her snuggled up, with Angie’s voice cooing in her ear.

  Fuck what I told her about being a woman and talking to me about her feelings. Had she come to me and told me she was bored in our relationship, I would have been willing to help find ways to solve the problem. Instead, she’d come to me with boredom as her problem and Angie as the solution.

  I needed to talk to a friend. Someone I could share Kyla’s shenanigans with. I wanted to call Tracy, my girl from Dallas, but Tracy was on a ten-day European cruise that had departed only a couple days ago. The best person next to Tracy was Melanie. Melanie was a friend of ours. We met her several years prior, while she and her girlfriend were visiting during Atlanta’s notoriously popular Labor Day Pride weekend. Kyla and I met them while we sat in a bookstore and watched all the excited out-of-town passersby headed toward Piedmont Park. Melanie and her girlfriend, Jovanna, introduced themselves to us, and the next day Kyla and I requested their online friendship via Myspace. Shortly after we met, we all deleted those accounts and moved on to Facebook, where we kept in touch.

  Melanie and I gravitated toward one another the most, and within months our friendship escalated from just an online interaction to telephone conversations. I liked Melanie’s style, and we easily vibed. She was smart and dedicated to her work, and I enjoyed the direct, open, meaningful philosophical conversations we had about politics, religion, and relationships. Honestly, we had had deeper conversations than Kyla and I had had over the years. But had I wanted to get with her just because I had got to know her well? Had I considered leaving Kyla to pursue intimacy with Melanie? No. Even if she’d been single, I wouldn’t have. And that was the difference between Kyla and me. I knew what a true friend was, and I knew how to be a loyal mate. It seemed, no matter how hard Kyla tried, she couldn’t succeed in the partnership arena. I gave her credit. She had lasted nine years without incident. Nine years wasn’t the forever she had promised, though.

  “Melanie, are you busy?” I asked when she picked up my call. I hoped she wasn’t. I knew Melanie would give me the honest, straightforward feedback I needed. She wasn’t a fake friend who would pacify me with dishonest sentiments.

  “Not too busy. Going over some paperwork. What’s up?”

  “Jovanna home?”

  “No, she’s out with Ali. Everything all right?”

  “I’m pissed right now. I’m really angry at Kyla, and I don’t know
what to do about it.”

  She shuffled some papers around in the background. “What happened?”

  “Today Kyla was hanging out with Angie while I was working, and—”

  “Angie, the ex?” Melanie said.

  “Yep.” During one of our earlier conversations I had told Melanie that Kyla and I had been out with Angie and Deidra. I had mentioned that Deidra was my ex, and had added that Angie was Kyla’s. Melanie found the situation odd, as most would.

  “Okay.” She sighed. I could tell her lawyer brain was already in motion.

  “Deidra and Angie broke up a few weeks ago, okay? Angie came by the house and put on a sad act, but now I’m not sure if that was for my benefit or what. I got a call from Deidra, telling me she had just spotted Kyla and Angie in a hotel gift shop. She insinuated that they appeared close. So after I talked to Deidra, I called Kyla, and she was being real short in her responses to questions about her and Angie. I could tell she was holding something back. Then she comes home and has the nerve to tell me she’s been feeling a little something for Angie now that they’ve been talking more since Angie broke up with Deidra.”

  Melanie was quiet for a moment. I knew Melanie had issues with third-party relationship interference. She and Jovanna had experienced a relationship hiccup a few years back, when one of Melanie’s clients, Sunday, began to stalk both her and Jovanna online. Jovanna took matters into her own hands and conned Sunday in such a manner that she vanished from their lives as swiftly as she’d entered. Melanie had once admitted to me that she was flattered that someone as beautiful as Sunday took interest in her, but not once did she allow Sunday to come between her and Jovanna, no matter what Jovanna thought. What bothered her most was that Jovanna hadn’t trusted her and had seemed paranoid and jealous. In the end, she realized Sunday really had been toying with Jovanna, which was what had caused Jovanna’s unusual behavior.