"Open Spaces" by Keith Kareem Williams (Chapters 1-4)

Open Spaces

 KEITH KAREEM WILLIAMS

Copyright © 2010 Keith Kareem Williams

All rights reserved.

ISBN: 1451504586

ISBN-13: 9781451504583

“My pen is in love with paper but it’s not faithful. It writes on all kinds, at different times, as often as it can. The good thing is that every sheet loves it right back. Every piece of paper is special as my pen leaves marks that the sheets can never remove or forget.”

– Keith Kareem Williams

Dedication

I would like to dedicate this, my second novel to those who dreamed my dream with me. This is for those who know, (not just think or hope), that dreams are tangible. I dedicate the words on these pages to every person who read my first novel and put pressure on me for another. I would like to thank those who felt the words on those pages the way I felt them. To those who believe that I am what I aspire to be, you eternally have my gratitude and a place in my heart. Your words of encouragement continue to fuel my passion for the stories I craft and lay on paper. Continue to dream with me.

God, I would like to thank you for the inspiration that flows through me because you allow it to. Thank you for your protection. Thank you for carrying me when I fell into deep depression and thought I couldn’t move on.

Kai & Kaylie, I’m not quite there yet but as long as I breathe, I’ll continue to strive to make it there. Daddy promises that I will do my best to make you both proud of me before I leave this earth. I’ll love you both always.

Kamal, I’m two years older but you’re my big brother. You pushed me to do this and when I was finished you grinded harder than anyone I’ve ever seen to move this movement forward. We suffered together as kids and we’ve never had it easy. As we fight this battle, searching for success, I wouldn’t want to go off to war with anybody else. We stand side-by-side, take on armies, fight these battles and eventually, we’ll win the war. Nothing can stop us. Love you babe bro.

Ariyon, I didn’t forget you baby girl. Uncle Kareem is on his grind. When you saw stacks of books in my apartment, I saw how proud of me you were. (Can’t wait until you’re old enough to read more than the dedication. Lol) Then you can tell me if I have skills or not. Love ya.

Gloria P, You were the 1st one to read the raw, “Gully” version of Open Spaces and always kept it 100% with me about its content. You put pressure on me for chapter after chapter & I had to struggle to keep up with you. If it wasn’t for you, I would have been writing this forever. I’ll always love you for you that. A muse & inspiration is not easy to find. Thank you.

The turning point of everything for me came towards the end of 2005. Before, I would strive to survive just for Kaylie and Kai. Now, it’s different. For those who watched me die but with their love made sure I survived, I do this for you now too and I refuse to lose as long as I’m alive.

Love Always, Reem.

P.S., For those who turned their backs on me when I thought I had friends, I see you too. To understand the things I do, you would have had to walk those seven years and two months in my shoes.

  

CHAPTER 1

Disturbance

“Happy birthday, dear Corey! Happy birthday to you,” sung the entire party, much too loudly and horribly out of key. Their voices boomed and resonated in the confinement of the tiny kitchen that had walls too thin to contain the dreadful chorus. Annoyed neighbors either cringed in disgust or turned their televisions up to drown out the sound.

“Now make a wish, baby,” Mika lovingly whispered in her son’s ear, as his father, Sedari, hoisted the boy onto the edge of the kitchen table.

Corey perched precariously on the edge of the table that was probably eighty-five percent compressed wood, only craftily disguised by the manufacturer to look authentic. Sedari had barely finished paying off the layaway plan at the local discount furniture store in time to have it for the party. They’d already gone almost a year and a half without one, and although it wasn’t the best quality, it was what he could afford for the time being.

Sedari steadied his son and directed him towards the red, white, and blue candle that burned brightly on top of the blue and canary yellow SpongeBob SquarePants birthday cake. Everyone remained completely silent as Corey thought about everything imaginable to wish for. For a boy his age, the possibilities, though basic enough, were nonetheless infinite. All in attendance held their breath as he inhaled deeply and prepared to make a wish by blowing out the candles. It was as if any sound or movement except for the tiny gust of air he mustered to blow would spoil the enchantment. After two laborious attempts, Corey blew out the candle and accidentally showered the top of the cake with a fine mist of spit. The genuinely joyous applause that followed sealed the spell and made the magic complete. Only the final element of the ritual remained; the slicing of the cake. Tammy, Corey’s chunkiest godmother, worked the kitchen knife with unrivaled precision without ever getting any frosting on her fingers.

Many of the party-goers and well-wishers were glad to grab their cake and escape the confinement of the kitchen; some because they were just plain greedy and others because of the anxiety that being packed in such a tight space caused. If Mika and Sedari’s kitchen had been a club, the fire marshal would have shut it down for certain. The only ones who didn’t seem to mind were the SpongeBob SquarePants party hat-wearing children who bounced their sugar-filled bodies carelessly and blissfully from room to room.

Through the crowd of guests, amidst the laughter and clamor of the celebration, Mika spotted her husband and stared into his face. A hulk of a man and standing about six-feet fiveinches tall, he was very difficult to miss as he towered above most of the guests. Mika smiled and touched her wedding band, while her grandaunt babbled in her ear about how much Corey had grown. The tips of Mika’s fingers also ran across the engagement ring she still wore on the same finger. It was not the flashiest and far from the most expensive, but bound within it was all the love Sedari possessed for her. Mika cherished the humble diamond set above the two circles of gold because it reminded her of the tears they both shed the night he proposed.

Sedari had apologized and cried, apologized and cried some more for not being able to give her what he felt she deserved. She remembered how she wiped his face as he wet her feet with tears. Mika remembered how she tried to comfort and reassure him. She thought back on how she tried to explain to him that countless women received priceless treasures from fiancés whose words and promises were as worthless as they were dead and hollow. She remembered how Sedari had tried to fool her into believing he felt better about himself, but she could still see the shame on his face like a stain. Back then, it saddened her, but she knew her man well enough to know that he would do whatever he had to, make whatever sacrifices needed, to walk through life as her husband with pride.

As her grandaunt continued to ramble, Mika slipped back to the present and nodded her head in agreement without really paying attention. Thoughts of her husband, some more sexually explicit than others, swam gracefully through pools of passion in her mind. He was like a drug to her, and she found herself wanting and needing the high he gave her. As she studied his face, the tingling that tickled her body made it impossible for her to forget why she married Sedari.

Mika knew the trouble he’d gone through to make this party special. Ever since they’d been married and on their own, money had been tight with them. This was the first time he’d been able to do anything near what he wanted for their little boy. Just as she was about to turn away to actually pay attention to her grandaunt, Sedari ensnared his wife’s eyes with his own. The couple exchanged warm, lustful looks and then continued to entertain their guests, some of whom had begun to leave. The gifts had been opened, the kiddie games had been played, almost all of the food had been eaten, and now, the cake had finally been cut. The party was nearly over.

Sedari started thanking everyone for coming, while Mika hurried back and forth to the bedroom to gather the guests’ outerwear they had stored on their bed for lack of closet space. Sedari felt fortunate to have so many good friends at Corey’s party. Many of them he grew up with, but through various means, they had since left the dirty apartment buildings and noisy streets behind. Now they only remembered the hood like a bad dream. They would have never returned to this part of town if not for their love of Sedari and his family. He understood this and loved them for it.

There were also other friends present who were from totally different walks of life. The perceptions of their parents were still imprinted firmly on their psyche, and they learned to fear what they saw and read in the news. Still, they loved Sedari because they knew him, but that love didn’t carry over to the strangers outside that shared his surroundings. Sedari could see in the faces of some of his friends that, now that the party was over, they wanted nothing more than to get back to safer suburban streets. The hood was definitely not for them.

As the last of the guests put their jackets on and said their final goodbyes at the apartment door, the doorbell began to ring wildly. Sedari and Mika exchanged puzzled looks before he opened the door cautiously.

“Sorry I’m late,” Desiree slurred, as she rudely brushed past the last of the guests who tried to make their way politely out.

Unmistakably intoxicated, Desiree grabbed Sedari in a bear hug and kissed him on the cheek, close enough to his lips to put an instant frown on Mika’s face. The longer Desiree held onto Sedari and the deeper she dug her French-manicured nails into the back of his sweater, the more Mika’s frown transformed into an appalled scowl.

“Glad you could make it,” Mika said, hoping her voice would be enough to make Desiree take her arms from around her husband’s neck.

It didn’t. Instead, she held on tighter and mischievously glared at Mika.

This bitch! Mika thought to herself, as she tried to maintain her hostess demeanor and composure. Her pride wouldn’t allow her to let Desiree know how jealous and annoyed she really was, so she continued to project as pleasant a vibe as she could.

“I almost didn’t make it,” Desiree whispered, alcohol heavy on her breath as she took her hands off of a visibly uncomfortable Sedari. He looked like someone with a bomb ticking in his back pocket.

“Thanks for coming,” Sedari told her, taking a few steps back to put more distance between them.

Desiree smiled, unbuttoned her full-length brown leather jacket, and arrogantly handed it to Mika. Sedari tried not to gasp or let his jaw go slack when he saw what she was wearing underneath. Mika noticed this but still said nothing. Desiree’s outfit was too scandalous for even some nightclubs and definitely inappropriate, not to mention tasteless, for a fiveyear-old’s birthday party.

“What the fuck?” Antoni, Sedari’s older brother, mumbled to himself while walking over to greet Desiree.

Ant, as his friends affectionately called him, which was an abbreviation of his name that also doubled as a reference to his lack of height, couldn’t decide what to ogle first. Her tan blouse was cut so low that the thin material barely covered her nipples. Her long legs and silky thighs were barely covered by a black skirt no bigger than a handkerchief.

“What’s up, Dee?” Ant greeted Desiree from a distance.

“Ant? Come gimme a hug,” she told him, staggering into his arms.

He realized just how drunk she was when she kissed him full on the lips. Ant didn’t notice that she kept one eye fixed on Sedari as she did this, but Mika did.

“Damn, Desiree, I thought you stopped drinkin’?” Ant whispered in her ear while hugging her.

He held onto her for a while, more to keep her from falling over than out of affection. When he felt she was steady enough, he guided her to the sofa as she dragged a monstrous Toys “R” Us bag behind her. When she sat down, her knees knocked together awkwardly; this was the only thing that kept everyone in the room from knowing what color her panties were. Just as Desiree righted herself, Corey appeared out of his bedroom in a crisp pair of new pajamas he’d received as a birthday gift from one of Mika’s sisters. He rubbed sleep from his eyes and grinned when he saw Desiree and the size of the bag beside her.

“Hi, Dee! What you got for me?” Corey asked and jumped up in her lap.

Desiree stared at the boy with a deep, long-buried sadness in her eyes. Only Sedari noticed the look in her eyes and the change that came over her. She seemed to sober up momentarily.

“You know I wouldn’t forget my favorite man in the whole world,” Desiree told Corey and kissed him softly on the forehead. “Sorry it’s not wrapped up, baby. Last minute shopping, you know,” she explained and pressed her lips affectionately to his cheek.

Her breath reeked of liquor, and Corey turned up his nose when he caught a strong enough whiff of it to make his eyes burn.

“You stink, Dee,” Corey told her without malice, but rather with the unpredictable honesty that all children possess. As he climbed down from her lap, his sleepy, burning eyes focused on the bag that undoubtedly contained some gigantic toy.

“Well, excuse me, sir,” she comically begged his pardon. “Take your toy to your room. Tomorrow, make Daddy put it together for you, okay?”

“Okay, Dee,” Corey answered without a fuss, then dragged away the bag which was almost bigger than him.

“Here you go,” Mika grumbled, as she handed Desiree a steaming cup of instant coffee.

Desiree took it, half smiled, and set it on the glass center table in front of her. The loud clanking noise made Sedari cringe.

“Thanks, Tamika, but I’m good. I appreciate the thought, though,” Desiree told her and mimicked the fake smile that was plastered on Mika’s face.

“Sure, whatever,” Mika answered, then took the mug of coffee back to the kitchen. She was grateful all the guests were gone except for Antoni. She knew she couldn’t have managed to be a good hostess for long with Desiree in the same room. She wasn’t surprised that Desiree would show up to Corey’s party late, half-naked, and stinking drunk. Desiree was Desiree, and she always found new, innovative ways to solidify Mika’s dislike for her. In that, she never failed to outdo herself.

“Dee, I thought you gave up that shit?” Sedari asked, as he gathered scattered party litter to put in the trash.

“I said I gave up getting drunk which, I might add, I am far from now,” she answered slowly and deliberately, as if she had to think about each syllable in every word before she spoke. Her sentences flowed unnaturally and sounded forced.

“Sound drunk to me,” Mika added, while stuffing discarded giftwrap into a black garbage bag.

“Am not, my dear, but thank you so much for your concern. I feel so loved,” Desiree replied, her voice heavily saturated and seasoned with drunken hostility.

Mika barely looked up as she angrily tied off the trash. She stomped past Desiree on the couch and roughly handed the bulging bag to Sedari. She paused to roll her eyes at Desiree before returning to the kitchen to wash up the mountain of dishes in the sink. She clanged cups, banged down plates, and abused pots while the silent tension in the room increased exponentially. Sedari and Antoni exchanged uncomfortable glances as the quiet, subtle war between the two women continued.

Desiree was pleased by how angry she made Mika. She stretched her arms, yawned, and put her feet up on Mika’s cream leather couch with her shoes still on. This time when she raised her legs, everyone did get a good look at her pink lace panties. From the corner of her eye, she saw Mika angrily grip a wet, soapy glass and nearly break it. Desiree smirked.

“I can see the party’s over anyway, and I wouldn’t want to overstay my welcome. Now, what I need is another drink and a ride home. Sedari, you got your car?” Desiree asked.

Whether by accident or on purpose, (no one in the apartment could say for sure), Mika broke a dinner plate on the kitchen floor. Sedari nearly jumped out of his skin.

“The liquor’s done and I got my car downstairs. Let’s go,” Ant interjected to prevent World War III in apartment B3. He didn’t particularly enjoy her company either, but he was willing to make the sacrifice to save Sedari the serious trouble that was sure to follow.

“I wasn’t askin’ you,” she started to say.

“No, but I’m offering. Let’s go,” Ant cut her off before she caused much more of a disturbance.

“Sure, fine, whatever. Doesn’t matter. Tamika, would you be a sweetheart and get my coat so this gentleman can give me a ride?” she asked.

“Fuckin’ bitch,” Mika thought, as she stopped picking up the broken pieces of the plate so she could fetch Desiree’s coat in a hurry. The sooner that woman was out of her place, the happier she would be.

Desiree kept her feet up on the couch until Mika appeared out of the bedroom and stiffly handed her coat to her. Although everything in the room seemed to be spinning, Desiree stood up steadily, snatched the coat, and quickly put it on.

“Good to see you, baby,” Desiree told Sedari, as she grabbed Ant by the hand and pulled him towards the apartment door.

Sedari smiled sadly, but didn’t answer her. Neither did he move from the spot where he stood rooted in place for the sake of his marriage.

“I’ll talk to you guys later,” Antoni said, while being pulled along like a stubborn puppy tethered to its own leash for the first time.

“Always nice to see you, too, Tamika,” Desiree said, as Mika showed them out and slammed the door behind them.

“I hate that fuckin’ girl! I really do!” Mika exclaimed, locking the door.

“Dee is Dee. Can’t let her get to you like that. You know she do that shit just to fuck with you,” Sedari replied, trying to comfort his wife by wrapping his arms around her waist from behind.

Mika smiled as she felt his breath on the back of her neck, then giggled when she felt his grip tighten. His lips explored the sensitive area behind her ears before sending chills down her spine as they tickled her collarbone. She still found herself fascinated by how he could be so powerfully overwhelming and gentle at the same time. She looked over her shoulder and smiled at her husband, just a little less upset than she had been only a few seconds before.

“You tired?” Sedari asked.

“No,” Mika lied.

She was very tired, of course. However, for what she knew her husband had in mind, she would drag the strength and energy from somewhere.

“Me neither,” Sedari whispered heavily in her ear.

“You think Corey’s sleepin’?” she asked, breathless, bothered, and wanting to be bothered some more.

“He better be sleepin’,” Sedari answered.

“Yeah, he better be,” she repeated after him.

Mika spun around in his arms and kissed him passionately before she took him forcefully by the hand to their bedroom.

CHAPTER 2

Designated Driver

Desiree laughed to herself when she noticed the new car scent air freshener that hung just below the rearview mirror of Ant’s car. The deep dents and rust spots on his ten-year-old Toyota told a different tale altogether. She put her feet up on the sun-damaged dashboard.

“Take your crusty-ass feet down off my dash,” Ant snarled through gritted teeth, as he watched her from the corner of his eye.

“I don’t think this piece of shit car minds where I put my feet,” she answered flippantly. “Does it really make a difference?” she asked, looking around at the weathered and worn interior of the car.

“It’s my piece of shit! I mind and it does make a difference to me,” Ant snapped.

Desiree rolled her eyes at him and took her feet down slowly.

“Why everything always gotta be a problem with you?” she asked.

“Why you always gotta be a problem?” Ant growled.

To that, she didn’t answer right away. Instead, what followed was a dead silence that Ant didn’t mind at all. Desiree fastened her seatbelt when she noticed his driving had become more reckless than usual. She remembered he always drove like that when he was upset.

“I’m a problem?” Desiree groaned under her breath, as he swerved and barely avoided rear-ending a mini-van.

“Yes, exactly. You’re a problem,” he answered through gritted teeth.

She was surprised he had heard what she said.

“How am I a problem?” she asked, genuinely sounding wounded.

“You just are,” Ant answered, satisfied that he had touched a nerve somewhere deep under her skin.

He felt she was long overdue for an honest telling off. He saw Desiree as a fifty-foot monster that casually turned entire cities to rubble and then wondered why everyone looked so upset. She never saw anything wrong with anything she ever did, and it was what he hated most about her. He was exceptionally pleased with himself for upsetting her, and it showed in his face.

“What kind of answer is that? You see, that’s one of the reasons we broke up. That’s why we ain’t together,” she said.

Desiree knew how much he had cared for her once, and she knew how much it would hurt him to be reminded. Immediately, Ant’s face contorted in a Dr. Jekyllish-to-Mr. Hydeish manner. She was actually caught off-guard by the transformation and shrank away from his gaze momentarily. Ant suddenly pulled the car off the main road and parked. When he shut off the engine and headlights, she realized she had cut him more deeply than she’d originally intended. His face twisted as he gathered his thoughts, and Desiree’s body tensed with sadistic anticipation while waiting for the heated words that would most assuredly fly from his mouth. She didn’t have to wait long.

“We ain’t together because of what you fuckin’ bring out in me,” he snarled, his face resembling that of a madman.

“And what is that?  What do I bring out in you?” she asked. Her uncaring, insensitive tone served to taunt and provoke him more.

“The worst,” Ant answered. “You bring out the worst in me and everybody around you.”

Now, she wasn’t shocked, surprised, or appalled. She was offended, and possibly more offended than she had ever been in her life. She couldn’t believe what Ant was implying. She had endured and ignored cat-calls and lewd comments ever since she’d sprouted breasts and flatteringly feminine curves. Now, whether he knew it or not, Antoni had roused a dormant, long-subdued rage within her.

“Bullshit!” she yelled. “We ain’t together because you could never handle me!”

A disturbed expression instantly infected Ant’s face. He opened his mouth to speak, but no words came out. The lost look that finally settled on his face let her know she had definitely caught his attention with that last comment.

“Now you just talkin’ shit,” he started to say before she pounced on him again.

“Ain’t nobody talkin’ shit but you. The truth is the truth. You couldn’t handle me. I was always too independent, too confident, and too strong, while you were too weak, too insecure, and too soft to deal with me. Don’t you even dare blame me for what happened between us,” Desiree ranted, her voice rising until it became a high-pitched scream.

“Whatever,” Ant answered before cutting back on the headlights and starting the car’s engine.

He felt hot, flushed, and out of breath, as if he had been in a fistfight. Still, he tried his best not to let Desiree see how far under his skin she’d gotten. Pride aside, he knew there was too much truth in what she said; in fact, more truth than he would ever admit. Suddenly, Ant wasn’t so eager to verbally spar with her. Desiree, however, was fully prepared to brawl.

“No, it’s not whatever. I am the way I am, and you could never handle it. You were never man enough to handle the way I am,” she told him, while rolling her neck and pressing her index finger into his shoulder.

Ant knocked her finger off, as he roughly shrugged his shoulder. “Yeah, the way you are,” he mumbled.

Preparing to pull out of the parking space, he checked his mirrors and the approaching traffic. The fake, flippant, unfeeling tone in his voice painfully grated on Desiree’s nerves.

“Yes, the way I am. Let’s talk about the way I am. It’s not my fault if some people can’t deal with the way I am,” she scolded and resumed poking him rudely with her finger.

He pretended not to notice this time, although every time her fingernail dug into his shoulder, he wrestled with the urge to grab her by the wrist and squeeze it until she screamed.

“The way you are is fucked up,” he told her simply, with no hostility, as he surprisingly maintained his restraint.

Again, she became enraged by his response.

“How am I fucked up? How the fuck am I fucked up?” she screamed at the top of her voice.

She was in danger of yelling herself hoarse. Deep inside, Ant was pleased, and he wore the smug grin to prove it. He felt good to know that for once, he had managed to make her feel the way she made everybody else feel. That was, everyone except for his younger brother Sedari, who was the only one that always managed to conjure up some excuse for Desiree’s behavior. His brother almost seemed to become a simpleton in her presence, and Ant had never been able to understand Sedari and Desiree’s friendship, if that’s what it was. The thought of that volatile situation gradually made the smirk plastered all over his face slightly less smug. After Desiree broke up with him, Ant assumed she had permanently removed herself from his life, but he was wrong. Somehow, she managed to befriend his brother, (simply out of pure spite in his mind), and now he found he couldn’t be rid of her. Whether it was a birthday party, holiday, or any occasion special to his brother, Ant found himself cursed with Desiree’s presence and he hated it.

“What’s fucked up is the way you interfere in my brother’s life,” he told her coldly. Although it was more than likely just his imagination, the heat that rose up off the woman in the passenger seat made him want to roll the windows down.

“What the hell do you mean interfere in your brother’s life?” she yelled. “Me and Sedari are friends. We’ve been friends.”

“Friends? You sure? That’s what you call it, huh?” he asked, cocking one eyebrow up sarcastically to make it plain what he thought of her explanation.

“Yes, you son-of-a-bitch, that’s exactly what I call it! Me and Sedari have never been anything but friends since day one,” she answered.

“Yeah?” he responded dryly.

“Wait a minute. Just what the fuck are you trying to imply? Why don’t you be a man for once and say what you really mean?” she barked.

“What I really mean, huh? You really wanna know what I think?” he asked.

“Yes, asshole, I really do. I can’t wait to hear this shit,” Desiree answered, folding her arms and waiting for whatever he would say next.

“I think that one, or maybe even both of you, want to be more than just friends. I think that’s what’s been up with the two of you from day one, and I know I ain’t the only one who sees that shit,” he told her.

“That’s the biggest load of bullshit I’ve ever heard,” she started to say.

“Is it?” Ant interrupted. “Is it?”

“Yes, it is,” she answered with a look of disgust.

To Desiree, it seemed that he sadistically tormented her, and she fought the urge to slap him or spit in his face. She couldn’t believe how angry he made her over something that should have been trivial and easily dismissed as rubbish.

“If it’s bullshit, then why the fuck do you go out of your way to get on Mika’s wrong side all the time? Why the hell would you act like that with your friend’s wife? Why the beef and the tension and the bitchiness all the time?” he asked.

“I don’t give a shit about Tamika! Fuck Tamika! She just doesn’t like the fact that me and Sedari are as close as we are. She’s insecure, jealous, and very childish if you ask me. That’s all it is,” Desiree answered.

“You think so, huh?” he asked.

“I know so,” she answered.

“You really don’t think Mika has a good reason to be insecure? She’s Sedari’s wife and she loves him, and you think that’s childish? You mean to tell me that you never thought your relationship with her husband would make her jealous?” he asked, trying not to yell.

The surprisingly sympathetic feel of his voice actually caught her off-guard. She didn’t know how to react to his sudden change in demeanor. For once, even though he knew exactly how she was, Ant tried his best to give Desiree the benefit of the doubt. He tried to tell himself that maybe she didn’t see the damage being done. He decided that her next response would either redeem or damn her in his mind.

“I honestly don’t believe she has any reason to be jealous of me and Sedari’s relationship. Do I love him? Of course I do, but only like a brother. That’s all,” Desiree explained half-heartedly.

“I understand all that, but have you ever thought about how it’d feel to be in her position?” Ant asked.

“All the time,” she answered, then turned her eyes away from his.

Instead, she stared at her feet that were throbbing in her one-size-too-small designer shoes and prayed to get home soon. There was a bottle of vodka on top of her refrigerator with her name on it. All appetite for discussion, civilized or less than civilized for that matter, had left her. All she wanted was for him to drive her home.

Ant clearly understood the double meaning of her last statement, just as he clearly recognized the sadness in her voice that was so powerful it threatened to infect him, as well. He heard what she said, felt what was in her heart, and understood exactly what she meant when she said it. Still, he lacked the cruelty to continue pressing her on the issue, although he knew the doom and devastation that would most assuredly be left in the wake of those feelings. Without another word, unkind or otherwise, he continued to drive. For the rest of the way, they didn’t speak, and for that, Desiree was glad. She was slowly sobering up and told herself that she needed a drink. To her, the sooner she got to her apartment building, all the better. Liquid liquor salvation waited for her there.

Light snow settled on the car and looked like dandruff on the black tar of the road as he drove through the almost-deserted streets. Except for the very scant traffic and the occasional chilly pedestrian, nothing much moved. Because the factory radio in the car didn’t work, the sound of the wiper blades as they rhythmically scraped across the windshield drummed torturously in Desiree’s ears. Like most annoying noises, the sound seemed to spitefully grow louder and louder since the first moment she’d noticed it until it became almost maddening. Ant appeared unaffected, and she supposed he was used to most of the dreadful noises his hunk of junk made. She was definitely coming down from her alcohol-induced high, and everything unpleasant seemed to be magnified, amplified, and solely set on grinding her nerves to dust.

Ant finally pulled in front of Desiree’s ritzy posh and what she liked to call simply fabulous apartment complex. Although he knew those days were long gone, even after everything that had happened that evening, a part of him wanted her to invite him upstairs. The silliness of the thought, carefully combined with bad memories, gave him just the right dose of sanity and reality to strike any such notions from his mind. However, those thoughts still left stains somewhere in the back of his brain. He guessed he would never be fully rid of those urges when it came to her.

“Thanks for the ride,” she said, as she felt for the door handle.

“No problem,” he answered, keeping his eyes on the steering wheel.

He believed if he looked at her, he would end up asking if he could come up. He was also certain that her response would have been a resounding NO!

“See you,” she said, then slowly stepped out into the snow that had really started to come down.

She made no effort to cover her head as she walked to the apartment complex’s front door. She let the snow fall on her even though it felt like every snowflake that settled on her exposed skin chilled her to the core of her soul. Ant waited until he saw her greet the doorman and step safely into her building before he drove off. He wished he had asked her to let him come up.

Meanwhile, Desiree walked down the immaculate, brightly-lit, marble hallway and waited for the elevator. She wished she had something warmer than a half-empty bottle of vodka and an empty shot glass waiting for her. The elevator finally opened, and she nearly tripped as she stepped inside. Luckily, it was vacant, so there was no one to ask any questions or offer any unwanted assistance when they noticed her condition.

Still tipsy, she thought and to her, that was good. It meant it would be even easier to get back to being comfortably drunk. Desiree pressed twenty-three on the illuminated panel and leaned back against the rear wall of the elevator. The wood paneling made her feel like she was in a coffin, and the walls actually seemed to be closing in on her. She looked up at the mirrored ceiling to ease her sudden fit of claustrophobia. From that angle, as she looked up to look down on herself, her own reflection seemed strange. She barely recognized who she saw, although it was a face she had studied in mirrors all of her life. Twenty-three blinked on the top panel, and the doors chimed before they smoothly slid open. Feeling dizzy and nauseous, she held onto the wall for balance as she stepped out and made her way to her apartment, nearly throwing up on the expensive carpeting twice. Finally, she reached the end of the hall, miraculously found her keys at the top of the clutter in her purse, and inserted the key into the lock of apartment 23F.

“You alright, deary?”

She jumped at the sound of the voice behind her, as she didn’t expect anyone to be up at this hour.

“I’m fine, Mrs. Hedgewig,” Desiree answered.

Mrs. Hedgewig was her building’s resident busybody. She lived directly across from Desiree and loved to mind everyone else’s business. Mrs. Hedgewig tried her best to hide the fact that she was also an old-school racist by affectionately referring to Desiree in her circles of gossip as the pretty brown girl across the hall. Desiree put her hand to her mouth when she caught a whiff of the air coming from Hedgewig’s open door. It always smelled like old cabbage water over there.

“Goodnight, Mrs. H,” Desiree said, while opening her apartment door.

“More like good morning,” Mrs. Hedgewig mumbled, then shut her door and looked through the peephole as the cute negro girl went inside 23F.

Desiree had barely shut the door behind her before vomiting all over her parquet floor.

CHAPTER 3

Truth, Half-Truths &  Sweet Lies

Mika lay flat on her stomach, naked, with her face practically buried in the pillow. She groaned softly as her thighs throbbed and her toes tingled. She loved the feeling of her bare nipples pressed against the mattress. She felt drained, but with some effort, she raised her head and looked in the mirror mounted on the back of her dresser. The gleam of sweat was still on her brow, her hair was wildly out of place, and except for the faint glow of her face, Mika thought she looked a mess. Beside her, Sedari lay naked on his back, still somewhat erect but apparently falling into the deep sleep that sexually satisfied men often fell victim to. In just a few minutes, he would be snoring, impossible to wake up, and dead to the world outside of his dreams. Mika purposely poked him in the side with her elbow.

“I’m not sleepin’,” he mumbled through lips that seemed gummy and glued together.

“Yes, you are,” she giggled and threw her arm across his chest.

“Does this look like I’m sleepin’?” he asked, grabbing himself.

Mika moved his hand away and firmly put her hand where his had been.

“Maybe not. It’s jumpin’ now,” she joked. “Looks like you ain’t finished.”

“Don’t start nothin’ you can’t finish, Miss Face-down-in-the-pillow,” he told her, as he closed his eyes again, smiled, and folded his arms behind his head.

They both began to laugh hysterically as Mika blushed.

“Shut up,” she said, then tried to slap him on his bare chest.

Sedari caught her hand before the blow fell and softly pressed his lips to her palm. They stared into each other’s eyes as Sedari took her hand and rested it on his chest.

“I love how smooth your chest is,” she whispered to him. “I hate hairy men.”

“You love everything about me,” he answered with a broad grin.

“Somebody’s been gassin’ you up,” she said.

“Yeah, you,” he replied.

“Whatever.” She pretended to be disgusted and pulled her hand away from him, while he laughed to himself.

Sedari wasn’t arrogant, but Mika loved his confidence. To her, it was what made a man a man.

“I’m gonna go take a shower. You comin’?” she asked.

“No, I think I’ma just lay here sticky, sweaty, and satisfied.”

“Suit yourself,” she told him, as she started to pick up the bed sheet that, at the peak of their passion, had been dragged clean off of the mattress. “I remember when you used to love to take showers with me, but fine, make me wash up by myself. It’s okay. I’ll remember that.”

“Stop actin’ like you don’t love that rough, dirty, gritty, beat-it-up-then-fall-asleep, gangsta love,” Sedari answered and smacked Mika on her bare ass before she covered herself with the sheet.

She rubbed her butt while looking back at him. “You nasty,” she giggled, then wrapped the sheet around her like an extremely long toga.

“But you love it,” he replied.

“Yeah, I do,” Mika said, as she winked and blew a kiss at her husband.

“Be careful not to let Corey see your naked ass in the hallway,” he warned her.

“That boy’s been sleepin’,” she answered, while walking to the bedroom door and trying not to trip over the sheet as it dragged on the floor behind her.

“Yeah, he was sleepin’. We was goin’ at it for a while, and by now, he might be up,” he reminded her.

“Yeah, and maybe it went from winter to summer, too,” she said playfully, as she started to close the bedroom door behind her.

“Don’t even try to play me like I’m no minute man,” he corrected her and waited for another wisecrack.

“I know you ain’t,” she reassured him, then smiled before closing the door.

“An hour and eight minutes and she wanna act like I’m quick,” he whispered under his breath and smiled, while looking at the clock on the nightstand.

On the other side of the bedroom door, Mika smiled a broad smile that widened as she walked to the bathroom. She imagined she could still feel her husband deep inside her. She rubbed her stomach and giggled like a schoolgirl. She stepped lightly to Corey’s bedroom door and peeked in. He still slept soundly with one of his newly acquired action figures secured safely on the pillow beside him. She carefully closed the door and made sure the lock and the loose, shaky doorknob didn’t make too much noise. She’d been meaning to ask Sedari to fix it.

Mika took two steps away from Corey’s bedroom and slipped into the cold bathroom. With the soles of her feet chilled by the icy bathroom tiles, she immediately regretted not wearing her slippers. Even in the summer, the bathroom always felt like a freezer. The draft that snuck in through the poorly insulated frosted glass window above the shower made it worse in the winter.

Mika quickly tiptoed to the shower, pulled back the curtain, and turned on the hot water to warm the room. Steam immediately started to rise until it eventually clouded the bathroom and increased the temperature of the frosty air. Slightly more comfortable, she walked over to the bathroom mirror mounted on the medicine cabinet above the face basin. She pulled her hair up in a bun so it would fit under her shower cap. As she unwrapped herself from inside the bed sheet, her stomach grumbled savagely. She would have gladly gone another round with her husband had her insides not felt like a bubbling, rumbling cauldron. Something she’d eaten at the party was at odds with her insides and in a hurry to get out. She opened the cabinet beneath the basin where she kept a half-empty box of sanitary napkins.

The box of pads was always half-empty because she never used any of them. Sedari had asked her about it on more than one occasion, and Mika always told him it was only her emergency stash in case she ever ran out. She knew that being a typical man he would never really have a reason or interest to look inside the box. She had never come across a man who wasn’t squeamish about anything even remotely related to a woman’s menstrual cycle. If Sedari had ever looked inside the box, he would have discovered where Mika kept her secret stash of cigarettes. She used to be a chain smoker before she got pregnant with Corey, but during the pregnancy, and through a great force of will, she had quit cold turkey for the baby’s sake. After Corey was born, Sedari begged her not to pick back up the habit for her own sake. To say he would’ve been pissed off if he could see her now, as she sat on the toilet seat with a cancer stick in her mouth, would have been a serious understatement.

Mika sat down gingerly on the cold toilet seat. She listened closely for footsteps before striking a flame from the lighter that had also been hidden away in the maxi pad box and tucked snugly next to her secret pack of menthols.

“What are you worrying about?” she asked herself, then lit the cigarette safely secured between her lips.

She had already checked on Corey, who was fast asleep and more than likely lost in dreams of toys yet to be played with. If she knew her husband, which she did, he was already deeply submersed in his sticky, sweaty, satisfied slumber. By now, his snoring was either at grizzly bear or chainsaw level. He wouldn’t have noticed if she set the apartment on fire, much less smell a small waft of nicotine smoke coming all the way from the bathroom.

Mika’s first deep pull blissfully soothed and relaxed her; a sharp contrast to the fevered excitement she became possessed by during sex. She held the smoke in her lungs like she was holding back an orgasm and waited to release it once it had built up enough strength to make her shiver inside. When she finally exhaled, she moaned deeply as if she had tasted something delicious for the first time. Immediately, a harsh cloud of cigarette smoke engulfed her head and mixed with the soft steam produced by the hot water of the shower. She closed her eyes and grimaced in pain when her stomach rumbled again. By the way her guts felt, she would be sitting there for a while. So, when the first cigarette burned down to the brown filter, she stood up and dropped it in the toilet. When she sat back down, she quickly lit another.

As Mika sat on the toilet and puffed away, she was glad that Sedari had decided not to take a shower with her. For one thing, even though they were husband and wife, she was still too shy to even pass gas whenever he was around. Secondly, she hadn’t been able to sneak a smoke in weeks, and until now, she hadn’t realized how much she missed it. As her second cigarette burned down to the filter, she reached between her legs and tossed it into the bowl. She reached behind her for the roll of tissue on top of the toilet tank, wiped, and then flushed.

Mika could hardly see through the steam and smoke as she stood up from the toilet. The bathroom was so warm and cozy that she wished she had drawn a bath instead of turning on the shower. Now she was too tired to go through the trouble. She stepped over the edge of the bathtub and into the stream of near-boiling water from the showerhead.

Mika envied Sedari, still high off of sex, deep in his sleep, dreaming of whatever men dreamed of that put rock-hard bulges in the front of their boxers in the dead of night. Now that the hot water massaged her aching body, the weary feelings that her lusty, romantic romp with her husband had temporarily taken away suddenly crashed down on her mercilessly. The thick lather from the soap made her skin tingle as she washed up. Twice she nearly fell asleep while leaning against the tiles in the shower.

She only sobered up from her drowsiness when the water temperature suddenly started to drop. She mumbled mixed curses under her breath and blamed their cheap landlord for installing a rickety boiler. Her teeth chattered from the chill of the water as it violently beat against her skin. She hastily pulled back the flimsy, plastic, semi-transparent shower curtain and then turned off the cold water. Like always, she stepped cautiously over the edge of the enamel bathtub, as if she expected it to be booby-trapped. As a toddler, when she first started to bathe herself, her grandmother had poisoned Mika’s mind with stories of people who met their untimely demises in their bathrooms after unfortunate, accidental slip-and-falls. Now, as an adult, Mika realized those stories were probably nothing more than an aged woman’s fears personified, amplified, vocalized, and projected onto a child’s psyche. However, even after coming to that realization, she found she had become so programmed and traumatized that her caution bordered dangerously on obsessive paranoia. In fact, she only felt safe after the fuzzy, light-blue bathroom rug tickled both of her bare feet when they were both planted firmly on top of it.

She snatched a towel from the rack and wrapped herself tightly in it. She brushed away a wet lock of her jet black hair from her face, while bending down to pick up the bed sheet she had discarded earlier. Once she had it bundled snugly in her arms, she brought it to her face and inhaled its scent deeply.

Mika stepped out of the bathroom and back into the narrow hallway. She tossed the dirty bed sheet into the white wicker clothes hamper that sat adjacent to the bathroom door. As she walked back to the bedroom, sleep started to lower her eyelids and tenderly tease her with its soothing embrace. Her limbs felt like they weighed a ton as she dragged her bare feet lazily across the coarse carpet. While quietly turning the handle of her bedroom door, she realized it was Sunday night/Monday morning and knew immediately she was going to call out sick from work. She peeked into the bedroom and saw Sedari lying almost exactly where she’d left him, except now, his arms and legs were spread across the entire span of their comfortably cozy full-size mattress.

We need a king-size, she thought to herself.

She sighed and dreaded the effort it would require to push him over to his side once she tried to climb into bed. She continued to drag her bare feet while walking over to the dresser drawer and took out the first nightdress her hand rested on. Unintentionally, she happened to grab one of her more risqué outfits, but was too lazy and tired to look for something else. She just pulled the black, short, sheer, thin-strapped thing over her head. She slipped her hands down the sides of the silky material and smoothed it down over her broad hips. She might as well have not bothered, as it rode up on her when she climbed into bed. It fit more like a top than a top and bottom. She hadn’t even bothered to look for a bra and panty. She was accustomed to sleeping without a bra anyway, and as she admired Sedari while he slept, not to mention as tired as she was, she decided it was a no panty night. Maybe after she’d slept a little and after he’d slept some more, they might sneak in a just-before-sunrise session.

She smiled and started to push him as slowly and gently as she could over to his side of the bed. She lay down comfortably beside him, and before her head hit the pillow, she was sound asleep.

Lost in the chambers of his own mind, deep in the depths of his dreams and fantasies, Sedari imagined he heard a telephone ringing off the hook. At first, the sound was faint, but it intensified until it roused him from his sleep like an annoying alarm clock. His eyes popped open as he realized the telephone really was ringing. The red digital display on the cable box read 3:06 a.m. He couldn’t believe someone would call at this hour. Even the ringing phone hadn’t caused Mika to so much as stir. Usually a light sleeper, Sedari knew how tired she must have been and felt sorry for her. He quickly reached for the phone before it woke her.

“Who’s this?” he whispered hoarsely into the phone.

“It’s me, Desiree. I’m glad you picked up,” she answered on the other line.

“I’m not. What?” he asked.

“I need to see you,” she explained.

“Now? Are you crazy?” he asked, looking over to make sure Mika was still asleep. To his relief, she was.

With everything deathly quiet in the apartment, he could even hear his wife as she breathed. He covered the earpiece of the phone and wondered if Mika could hear Desiree’s voice. He hoped not. Nothing good would come of it if she could.

“I know it sounds crazy, but I really need to talk to you,” she said and then paused. “I really need to see you,” Desiree pleaded.

Sedari didn’t answer right away, although he recognized her deep sincerity. He was disturbed by the desperation in her voice. He wondered if she realized the position she was putting him in. He looked over his shoulder at Mika as she slept soundly and wondered if Desiree understood the drama she constantly caused between him and his wife. He wondered if she cared. He took a deep breath and answered her.

“I don’t think I can swing that,” he told her coldly, praying she would just understand. She didn’t.

“Please, Sedari. I really need this. I’m afraid. If I stay here alone…” She paused for a moment. “If I have to stay in this apartment by myself… I’m afraid, Sedari,” she finished and waited for him to change his mind.

Sedari couldn’t see the mascara that ran down her face and dyed her tears as grey as her soul. He couldn’t see her watery eyes as they roamed her bedroom until they rested on the unopened bottle of sleeping pills on her nightstand. He couldn’t smell the liquor on her breath or see the empty bottle of vodka discarded carelessly at her feet. However, he could hear her as she sobbed pitifully into the phone.

“Alright, alright, I’m on my way,” he grudgingly answered.

As he hung up and started to climb out from under the covers, he knew what he was about to do was one of those things in life that made you feel like you had picked out the shovel that would dig your own grave. Still, he climbed slowly out of bed. Still, he started to get dressed in his work uniform. Still, he started to craft a concrete lie to tell his wife.

“What’s wrong? Where’re you goin’?” Mika asked, sleepy enough to keep her eyes closed but alert enough to know something was wrong.

“I gotta go to work. Robbie’s van broke down and they need me to finish his pick-ups,” he told her as his conscience burned. While buttoning up his light and dark blue pinstriped work shirt, he found it hard to look at his image in the mirror.

“I thought you was gonna take today off? They can’t call nobody else?” Mika asked.

“No, I’m the only jackass that picked up the phone,” he answered, as he tied a light blue doo-rag over his head.

He hated how he looked in his uniform, but the doo-rag let him hold onto a little bit of himself. The owner of Speedy Ambulette Service hated to see him in it, but he only complained playfully because he knew Sedari was one of his best drivers.

“How long you gonna have to work?” she asked.

“I don’t even know. I hope not too long,” he answered.

Sedari really meant that. He didn’t even want to get caught up in one of Desiree’s chaotic, psychotic episodes, but he felt that, as a friend, he owed her his support. He wondered if she would do the same for him if their positions were reversed.

As he threw on the dark blue bomber jacket he wore to work, he kept his back turned to his wife as she lay snugly under the covers of their bed. He almost walked out of the bedroom without another word, when something pulled him back. He paused at the door with his hand frozen on the knob. Before turning it, he looked over his shoulder and hesitated. His mouth hung open, and he nearly told her the truth about where he intended to go. He loved her so much that it actually hurt him to lie to her. For a few moments, he stood there still as a statue and hated himself. He finally removed his hand from off the doorknob and walked over to the bed.

Mika grumbled as Sedari pulled back the hair that had fallen in her face and kissed her softly on her chocolate cheek. She pulled the covers so high up over her head that she unintentionally exposed herself. He smiled and tapped her lightly on her butt. Without another word between them, Sedari left the apartment.

CHAPTER 4

Sin a Little Sin

Images of Mika as she slept danced in Sedari’s head while he jogged down the four flights of dark-as-night stairs. His fingers stroked the handle of the stainless steel knife he kept hidden, but open, in the right-hand pocket of his bomber jacket. Except for those who were up to no good, no one else used the stairs unless it was absolutely necessary. Therefore, the knife in his right pocket was absolutely necessary to deal with those who might be lurking in the dark staircases for an easy victim to walk down. He always used the stairs because he didn’t trust the shaky, squeaky, musty, piss-stained elevator. The only reason he didn’t complain about Mika and Corey using it was because he trusted their safety on the staircases even less.

As he reached the bottom of the four long flights of stairs, he was surprised to find that the lobby, usually flooded with youngins, was abandoned as a ghost town. He guessed that although most of their parents didn’t give a damn where they were half the time, they had at least given themselves curfews. His footfalls echoed dully as he quickly crossed the lobby and opened the heavy apartment building door.

“Damn, it’s bleedin’ out here,” he mumbled to himself through gritted teeth when he stepped out into the blistering breeze that could have been more accurately called a baby blizzard. The air was cold enough to crack your face instantly like cheap china.

Sedari threw his hands deep into his pants pockets after pulling his dark blue skully hat further down on his head. His heart skipped a beat when he looked up the street and thought his pride and joy was missing. He relaxed as he jogged closer to the spot where he had parked and realized that an SUV had blocked his view of his black ’93 BMW 325is coupe. Sometimes, he was surprised that, even with his 19-inch chrome rims and low profile tires, no one had tried to steal it. He guessed that even though he’d hung up his guns after he’d gotten married, his name still held some weight in these streets. Also, regardless of what the evening news and the statistics they quoted said, he knew his car was safer in the hood than it would have been in suburbia. The car thieves never hunted in their own neighborhoods. It was too risky for them to shit where they ate.

As Sedari opened the door, he rubbed his hand affectionately across the frigid, snow-covered, polished and waxed roof of the car. He felt like a cowboy rubbing down his horse after a long ride. His baby was safe. It was how he had used his last two income tax refund checks; one to buy the car and the other to buy the rims.

He jumped in and peeled out of the parking space without giving the car a chance to warm up. The thick, white exhaust tumbled like earthbound clouds behind him. Guilty as sin, he drove to Desiree’s apartment.

“I see you came prepared for work,” Desiree slurred, although to Sedari, she sounded slightly more sober than she had over the telephone earlier. He guessed she must have finally decided to put the bottle down for the night.

She opened the door all the way, but blocked his path. Although she tried to play the cute, sly seductress, he thought she looked more like a drunken barmaid, barely standing and about to fall over.

“Stop bullshittin’ ‘cause ain’t nothin’ funny about this shit,” he told her, as he put his hand firmly on her hip and moved her out of the way.

Once he was inside, she closed the door, leaned against it, and waited for him to face her. He didn’t. He was too shocked and disturbed by the condition of her apartment. He remembered being a bachelor, so he knew how easy it was for a mess to quietly grow out of control. But what he saw expressed something different entirely. This was more than the neglectfulness of a busy, young, single woman.

He finally turned to look at Desiree, who now barely balanced herself against the door. He shook his head in disbelief and turned his eyes back to the apartment. He walked deeper inside and wondered what exactly he’d gotten himself into. He immediately wished he’d stayed home where he’d been comfortably cozy with his wife in bed. He was certain that Desiree needed more help than he could give her.

Sedari took off his heavy bomber jacket and threw it down on the dusty black leather couch. He sat on the edge of the seat cushion next to his jacket, rested his hand on his chin, and began to stroke the scruffy stubble left over from not shaving the day before.

Everything accidentally out of place or purposely placed in disarray gave the impression that a disturbed individual lived there. The thick cream curtains were drawn tight, and the only light that illuminated the room came from two candles that burned weakly on top of Desiree’s entertainment unit. Judging from the reduced size of the candles, as well as the numerous puddles of hardened candle wax, it had been the only form of light she had used for some time. A large photograph of her from her days as a model had fallen off its hook and lay carelessly ignored on the ground. No effort had been made to clean up the broken glass from the shattered picture frame. Her goldfish, the lone survivor of the four he had given her as a birthday present the year before, swam in a murky ten-gallon tank that appeared to be more polluted than the Hudson River.

“What the hell’s been goin’ on in here?” Sedari asked. “You ain’t never kept your place like this,” he told her with a disgusted scowl on his face.

Desiree walked shakily over to where he was and slumped down on the couch beside him. “I need help,” she whispered, then rested her head in his lap.

He affectionately put his hand on her head and pulled her untidy hair out of her face. “I know you need help, but what’s the problem?” he asked, stroking her head like an old woman would her favorite fluffy housecat as it purred on her lap.

Although he couldn’t see her face, she smiled. Although he couldn’t hear her heart as it beat in her chest, she felt comforted.

“I feel like I’m going crazy,” she whispered so softly that he couldn’t hear.

He understood that she wanted it that way, so he didn’t pry. Instead, he continued to silently run his fingers through her hair, while massaging her scalp until she was ready to speak loud enough for him to hear her. It seemed like eternity had passed before she spoke again.

“I’m sad, Sedari,” she said slowly, softly, and with her voice two octaves deeper than usual. Although she still slurred her words somewhat, he understood her clearly this time. “I’m sad all the time, and I don’t know how not to be,” she finished.

“Part of life, sweetie. Don’t you see the whole world’s sad for one reason or another?” he answered so matter-of-factly that she momentarily felt sane.

Also, Desiree believed that she felt something that he didn’t say but wanted to. A tiny beam of hope deep inside her started to burn, and she wondered if he felt the same way that she did.

“But I don’t want to be. Why should I have to be?” she asked, as she squeezed his knee with what little strength was left in her shaky grip.

Sedari shifted uncomfortably. Even though he wanted to help Desiree if he could, his thoughts continued to burn brightly on a wife he’d lied to and left sleeping in a half-empty bed that he himself should have been sound asleep in.

“Then you gotta do whatever you need to do to not be sad or depressed anymore,” he explained with more than a little impatience in his tone she noticed.

At this, she became angry and agitated because she knew what it would take for her not to be sad. She was also fully aware of what, or rather who, stood in her way. It was that same who that made him answer her the way he did, and Desiree knew it. She knew what would make her smile every day as soon as her eyes opened up in the morning until they closed again at night. So did another woman who, at that exact moment, tossed and turned in bed alone.

Suddenly, Desiree sat up so abruptly that it startled Sedari. She took his hand in her own and stared into his face, which was had become covered with nervous confusion. He gripped her hand firmly like a child afraid to cross the street. The feel of the wedding ring he wore annoyed her, so she let his hand fall from her grip as she recoiled her delicate fingers. She’d never quite gotten used to the idea of him being married, and she guessed she never would. She remembered when she graciously declined Mika’s offer for her to be a bridesmaid. As it was, she barely managed to stomach the ceremony. She also had been grateful for the out-of-town assignment her job had given her, which provided a guilt-free excuse to miss the reception.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, not sure of what to make of her expression. It was an angry mixture of sadness and frustration. Also, deep within her eyes, there lived a sadistic gleam that he overlooked.

She didn’t answer his question. Instead, with her eyes wide open, she leaned her face towards his. He leaned back, but not much, and did not pull away when their lips touched. She opened her mouth and softly sucked on his bottom lip. Still, he didn’t resist. He couldn’t pull away because he felt like a mouse caught on a sticky glue trap. That was worse than feeling trapped in a cat’s mouth. Cats caught mice by way of stealth and surprise, but glue traps doomed mice by means of their own folly.

Finally, when Desiree tried to open his mouth with her own, he gently pushed her away. His heart raced as the taste of her mouth lingered, so different from his wife’s that it excited him. The smell of her was different. The way she kissed was different. Everything that was different about her set his senses on fire, and a dangerous curiosity he thought he’d conquered long ago broke the surface of his psyche like a shark’s fin in water seasoned with blood. His reaction wasn’t the one she had desired, but she knew she’d succeeded in one aspect. Although it was his loyalty to Tamika that stopped him, Desiree knew it was thoughts of being with her that coursed voraciously through his mind and boiled his blood. She thought that he felt feverish as her fingers fondled the side of his face. She knew he wanted her. She knew this because he couldn’t, or wouldn’t, look at her.

She leaned forward again and bit him softly on the neck, but again, he pulled away from her. She smiled to herself. She knew what men liked, loved, and wanted. To her, Sedari was no different. She roughly put her hand to the crotch of his work pants, but then squeezed him softly. This time, he jumped up from the sofa like it was on fire and pushed her hand away.

“What’re you doin’?” he asked.

She licked her lips suggestively and responded with silence. When their eyes met, he was forced to look away. There was intensity in her gaze that made him think she could burn a hole right through him.

“What the hell is wrong with you? What the fuck are you tryin’ to do?” he asked.

“You know what I’m doin’,” she answered, as she reached for his belt and started to slide off the sofa.

He took two full steps back as she knelt down in front of him. He continued to back away from her until his feet crunched on the glass from the broken picture frame. He looked down and then roughly rubbed his palm against his forehead like he had a headache. His blood pounded so fiercely that he could feel his own pulse.

“Careful,” she whispered heavily with her eyes fixed on the glass at his feet.

“I…I didn’t see it,” he stuttered.

As he knelt down and attempted to clean it up with somewhat shaky hands, she crawled closer to him. While he was kneeling down, once again, they made eye contact. This time he couldn’t look away, even though he knew he should have. He almost wanted to turn his head, but he could feel her breath on his face. He tried to think of his wife, but found that he couldn’t quite picture her face. Desiree touched him on the shoulder while he undressed her with his eyes. Her satin robe covered way too little and exposed way too much. The cream colored material complemented her dark chocolate complexion perfectly.

“It’s okay,” she told him, and he wondered if she was talking about the broken glass.

When she brought her face close to his, he closed his eyes and didn’t flinch. He started to open his mouth when she kissed him on the forehead. When he opened his eyes, she had already started to sit back on the sofa. She was still quite drunk, and as she sat with her legs wide open, he wondered if she could imagine what he was thinking when his eyes settled between her thighs. Her panties barely concealed what they were meant to and were so tight that they painted a perfect picture of what lay poorly hidden behind the thin fabric. She followed his gaze, realized what he was looking at, looked down at it herself, and then slowly closed her legs. Sedari heard an imaginary door slam in his mind, and Desiree felt powerful.

“I understand why you can’t and I know why you won’t,” she told him.

Nothing more needed to be said. He gathered up what he could of the broken glass and dumped it in the wastepaper basket next to her computer desk. He then walked back to the couch and purposefully sat far away from her. They smiled empty, half smiles at one another before she slid over and wrapped her arm around him

“You still wanna talk?” he asked.

“No, not really,” she answered. “It’s getting late, and I know you have to be at work in a couple of hours.”

“That’s true,” he answered, while checking the watch Tamika had given him for a birthday present the year before.

“Besides, you shouldn’t even be here,” she sighed. “That’s more than I should even be asking you to do.”

“Don’t worry about it. Like the song says, that’s what friends are for,” he answered, trying to lighten the mood.

“I’ll get you a blanket if you still want to stay.”

“I don’t mind. It’ll look suspicious if I go home now anyway. Just promise that you’ll wake me,” he replied and started to take off his work boots.

“I will,” she promised, then got up to get a blanket from her bedroom.

His heart raced as he watched her disappear into her room. He almost wanted her to invite him to sleep in her bed instead, but when she reappeared with the heavy goose-down comforter folded neatly in her arms, those thoughts vanished from his not-so-subconscious mind. There could be no doubt now as to where he was sleeping tonight.

“Goodnight. I’ll wake you in the morning,” she whispered, as she spread the blanket over him and kissed him tenderly on the forehead again.

He loved the way her lips felt against his skin…soft, moist, and sensuous.

“Call me if you need me,” he mumbled, then fell into a bottomless sleep almost before he finished his sentence.

Although he wouldn’t remember them clearly when he woke up, his dreams were not about his wife.

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