“Boy, you scared me!”
“Who else is in the house but you and me?”
Her face looked like she was about to transition from happy to mad. It didn’t take much to change her mood. I stood in front of her with a wide stance, as if I were getting ready to fight.
“Oh, you act like you want to do something. Ain’t nothing between us but air and opportunity.” She tried to hold back that grin that was sneaking across her face.
In my most lusty voice. “Go ahead, I dare you to make me late for work! I don’t think you have what it takes!” She laughed and tried to step by me.
“I made you something,” I said as I held her for a few seconds to kiss her on the lips.
She only offered me her cheek before she left to go into the room. I hated it when she offered me her cheek. What the hell is that about? I remember when I used to kiss her full on the mouth, in the broad open daylight standing at the city bus stop. I should have known something was up when she pulled back during the kiss at the end of our wedding ceremony. I’ve been tracking all of the subtle signs of change over the years. I saw the storm coming, but I didn’t know how to get out of the way.
Stepping into the shower, I narrowly avoided stepping on the wet bar of soap. I have asked Terri time after time to put the soap back into the dish after she uses it. If I didn’t know any better, I would think she was trying to take me out by having me slip down and hit my head. I heard the door squeak as it opened.
“Thanks for the breakfast.”
“Anything for you baby.” I know it’s only a matter of moments before she starts in on me again about that job jazz. Under my breath, “5, 4, 3, 2,1”…
“So, what do you think about that job opening?”
“Did I just tell her I would do anything? Damn!” I keep my mouth shut for fear of saying the wrong thing. Hell, any man with half a brain knows that when his lady wants him to do something that he does not want to do, everything he says is all wrong, unless he is saying yes. A young married fool would misconstrue her last utterance as a question. This line of verbal exchange was almost as lethal as, “Does this dress make me look fat?” or, “Do I look fat to you?” What self-respecting man would even step willingly into that steaming pile of dog poop?
“Chapman!” she snaps. “Do you hear me talking to you?”
“Yeah baby, I had some soap in my eyes. What did you say?”
“I was asking you what you thought about the job down at the county office.”
“I’m not sure baby. Like I said, I need to look it over and see if it is something that I would be interested in doing.”
“Sweet, you got the qualifications and military experience. You will be making around seventy thousand dollars a year. That’s a long way away from what you make right now. We can move up and do some other things with the extra cash.”
An awkward silence settled into the bathroom like a turd that refused to be flushed.
“Are you ignoring me?” she asked sharply.
I shut the water off and pulled back the shower curtain. Terri was standing there as if she were ready to pounce on me like a lioness on the Serengeti plains. I looked at her, tilted my head to the side, smiled and shook my head at the intense amount of pressure she was suddenly placing on me.
“So that’s what it’s about? The money?”
She whirled around on a dime and walked out of the bathroom. I dried myself and wrapped my towel around me. When I entered our bedroom Terri was facing the mirror putting on her make up, and jewelry. I moved in very close to her to touch her playfully. She recoiled from me like an angry elementary school girl.
“Oh it’s like that huh?” I asked poignantly. She didn’t even open her mouth to respond.
“You really want me to take this job, don’t you?” Silence. “I will look at it and let you know what I think. I am not big on being caught behind a desk.”
She finished applying her makeup, grabbed her COACH bag and leather folio, picked up the food tray, and turned to walk out of the room.
“You going to leave without even saying ‘Bye Dog’? I guess it’s war again huh? So what? You want me to lie to you and then change my mind later?”
Terri still refused to talk about it. “It’s all about you. Terri’s got to be happy...nobody but Terri. Baby, no matter what you do or how you act, I am always going to respect you and back you and that is all I’m asking from you. I love you and…”
“What’s love got to do with it?” With one hand her on her hip and the other miraculously flailing about with the food tray in it, accenting the high points of her statement and never dropping a plate.
“If you don’t know, I can’t tell you. You have a good day.” My retort was sharp as I shook my head.
She continued into the kitchen, placed the food tray on the counter, and threw the paper plates and napkins into the trash. Me like a statue, stood watching her walk away from me and our conversation. Terri had been the poster child for intimacy less than an hour ago. In a flash, her attitude changed and now she’s a double for one of the lead Zombies in the remake of Michael Jackson’s “Thriller” video. The sudden change in her behavior was all due to the fact that I didn’t say yes. I am supposed to blindly agree to do something that’s not congruent with my gifts or my spirit. She sashayed out of the kitchen, into the garage and out of my life for the rest of the day. Feeling like a fool for even thinking that what happened earlier was real, I was reminded of “Manipulation 101”.
Her Way or The Highway
Here I am, driving down the street blasting the Tom Joyner Morning Show with the air conditioner on high with my windows open. “Chapman Sweet must be a fool. If he passes on this golden opportunity his ass is G-O-N-E, gone. Any real man would take the job whether he liked it or not. He has always been on this happiness kick. Fuck happiness. Forgive me Lord? Forgive me. Brothers are always cryin’ about how hard times are. How misunderstood they are. Ain’t that a bitch? I bet you if my name was Heather, or Becky, and I had long blonde hair, that Negro wouldn’t even think twice about taking that job. What’s a little discomfort for someone you love so much? What about all of those beatings sisters have taken, lonely nights, being stuck with fourteen head of children when he decides he doesn’t want to play mama and daddy anymore? Forgive me sweet Jesus, please forgive me. Then he skips across town to play pussy with his new whore for the month? Shit like this, pisses me off. He is definitely going to get the ice treatment from now on.”
I was wiping tears from my eyes, as my car glided down the street toward the guard gate to exit the neighborhood.
“Damn this! I do everything to make his game look good. I buy his clothes from Burch’s Haberdashery, cook his food and keep myself looking damn near like I did when we first met. Okay, I will admit I have cut way back on the sex, but, shit, I’m too tired to throw my legs up when I want sex, I know I am not going to jump and throw my legs up when he wants sex. I said, ‘Get a new car.’ Noooo, he is going to drive that piece of shit until it’s riding on the rims. I told him, ‘I am not going to get up out of my bed, late at night, to go pick his black ass up from the side of the road.’ Hell, we got the money. So, what’s wrong with overextending a little bit? Everybody in America lives above his or her means. Shit, that’s what they make credit for. We both work, and we both need to be making top dollars whenever we can. His crazy ass is still holding onto his dream of being a recording artist. That raggedy ass band, with all of those wannabe’s is never going to get larger than Dade, Broward and Palm Beach County. I mean, they all right, but I don't have the heart to tell him he isn’t ever going to be no damn Earth, Wind & Fire or Najee. Playing at Bayside three nights a week, a Superstar does not make. Negro needs to wake up now, before it's too late and the party is over.”
The