My mind and body is being sucked into a vortex that has transported me to a place light years away from where I was. Less than an hour ago I was driving home with my head stuffed with the dread of what I feared I would meet in my house. Me, not wanting to face the foul music being played by the discord in my relationship. But, this very pleasant part of the rollercoaster ride called my marriage, in this very moment, felt nice. Like the rise of a rollercoaster car as it rolls toward the highest point on the tracks along the short path it is predestined to travel. Nice. Oh, how nice it feels.
The type of attention being bestowed upon me now would inspire any halfway decent man to be a better man and a better listener. The afterglow sleep I experienced was like none before. The morning seemed to come in a flash. I didn’t mind because Terri was still there in my arms. Leaning over, I kissed her on her forehead.
“Babe,” I called out to her in as soft of a voice as I could. Her eyes slowly opened and adjusted to the morning light fighting it’s way through the vertical blinds. She rolled to her right and propped up on her elbows like a little chipmunk poking out of it’s hole. She began rubbing her face and yawning.
“What time is it?”
“Six o’clock. You have to be somewhere early?”
“Yeah, I have to go to that county assistant principal’s meeting. Speaking of administrator, you know the word on the street is that the county is looking for a new countywide music administrator.” With that, she flopped down, flat on her back.
“No, I didn’t.”
“It sounds like something you may be interested in.”
“I don’t know. Management is a different monster all together.”
Spreading her elbows out to her sides and resting her head in the palm of her hands, she was quietly removing her clothes. Then clearing her throat and rubbing her nose, she grunted as she rolled onto her stomach.
“Well, Kenya said she would get a packet from the crystal palace. I’ll get it from her so you can look it over and see what the pros and cons of the job are.”
Pushing her naked body up onto her knees, she stood up and put her slippers on before she came over to my side of the bed. She held my face in the palms of her hands and kissed me full on the lips.
“I got first dibs on the shower,” she said.
“You win!” I replied.
Stopping to stretch in front of the mirror, she rubbed the skin on her stomach and thighs before she continued to the restroom. Setting the water to her desired temperature for her shower, she entered the warm water’s embrace. I decided to wash my hands and work some quick magic in the kitchen. Some grits, eggs, bacon and toast. I knew she’d like that because a hot meal and some good lovin’ go together like hot cocoa and buttered toast.
As I inventoried the ‘fridge and the pantry, I wondered where this county music administrator business came from? I knew about the position two months ago. I told Terri time-and-time again, that my days in the school system were numbered and the number was very low. Management was definitely not my cup of tea, but I kept my mouth shut to keep the peace. It was so rare to have a night like we just had, I considered it might still be a dream, in reality it never happened. Terri knew my dream; to be on the road and recording. She had to know, because she has been hearing it since the first time we had a conversation. I was crystal clear about what I wanted to do, and then came love. The idea of me on stage used to get her all worked up, but now it just seemed to be a lightning rod for drama.
“What? A brother can’t have his dreams?” My dreams are my gift to the world. She lives her dream every day and I have supported her from day one. Her quest is to become a power broker in the field of education.
As the years slipped by, changes occurred to each of us. I often put a question to the “Sexy Eight”, as I call them. The group consists of Terri, Kenya, Dorothy, Gloria, Valarie, Bonita, Tia and Janet. Sometimes my mom and my mother-in-law would join in and make it the “Twisted Ten”. Every now and then, they women come over to the house for a book club meeting and a very small cookout. Somehow, most of the time, the meeting degenerates into a full out, tipsy, man-bashing session. I always strategically butt in at the end of their meetings and ask them thought provoking questions to try to get them to rethink their current twisted philosophical position and instigate some good arguments. The last question I hit them with was a killer.
“Pretend you are in the market for a good man, and you frequent a public park to exercise a couple of times a week. One day you noticed this good-looking man and eventually he approaches you. His conversation is engaging and insightful. He is well-groomed, smells good, and makes you laugh like crazy. His teeth are clean, and he has a career with a county division, and he gives you the utmost respect. You began to date and you are falling for him. Your girls know something is up, but you keep the relationship under wraps, because you wanted to be sure that it is the real thing. One Friday, you and your girls decide to play hooky from work and do the day spa followed by lunch. In the middle of your lunch at the cute little sidewalk cafe’, a garbage truck rolls by and you see your heartthrob hanging off the back of the truck, waving at you. Would you joyfully acknowledge him and point him out to your girls or would you pretend not to see him?”
Six of them mumbled to themselves for a moment, especially Terri. I could always count on the real sister to step to the front. That’s right, my girl...Kenya Dixon.
“Yes, I would stand tall and holler right back at him,” stated Kenya with absolute conviction and no hesitation.
“Why he gotta be a garbage man? Why can’t he be an X-ray technician? Why can’t he be a school teacher?”, are the recommended changes to make my question more comfortable.
“Why a brother got to be any of that?” I thought doing my best to keep my mouth shut. “A good man is not what they want.”
Hell, the smartest man and woman I know never completed high school. My grandma Lucille (Big Mama) was as sweet as they come and knew good from a thousand miles away. Sometimes I would throw in a bald headed, short, fat, ugly brother into the equation. Now don’t get me wrong. I am in no way, shape or form trying to place all of the blame and poor judgment on women. There are a lot of brothers out there doing the same thing. But somehow, the final decision never rested on what was real about the person who was standing in front of them vying for their companionship.
I respect Terri’s dream of becoming a Marva Collins-type teacher, but ever since we got deeper into our marriage, she began to try to dress me differently and pick my friends, tell me who could come over to the house, and make me take the career path that she prescribes for me. I’m down for making money, but teaching is a stepping-stone for me. I love the kids, but I know that my mission from God is to affect the world positively with my music. I see a lot of brothers and sisters just doing whatever it takes to get by. I believe that life is about more than just getting by. So, whether Terri wants me to be a big star or not, I’m going to follow my dreams, no matter what.
The water in the shower stopped. The food I prepared is on the tray I’m carrying like a seasoned waiter. I’ll have it in place on the bed before she dries off and returns to the room. I put the tray on the bed, and take off my clothes so I can get into the shower before the dreaded conversation starts up again. Opening the door to the bathroom, the fog from the shower is thick enough to be in the opening of a Hollywood horror movie. Terri,