Did he ever think about coming to find me? I'm not taken! I'm smart
and
fun. Trying to manipulate his psyche, I asked, “So besides being ready to settle down, what attracted you to your girl?”
Without a second's hesitation, he responded, “She was tight, in all aspects of the word. We started out as friends. I respected her. She respected me. One day, we just hooked up and it's been that way ever since.”
He sighed, as if he were feeling guilty for talking to me. Finally, he finished, “Plus, I knew she loved me for me.”
After I swallowed all of his endearing words, I cleared my throat. “As opposed to . . .”
As if he awaited my question, he quickly said, “As opposed to being interested in the American dream.”
I wanted to yell, “I loved you when you didn't have a dream.” Becoming a physician was my dream for him. Instead, I said, “I understand.”
Moments of discomfort sat on the line with us. Finally, I said, “I guess she's the one, huh?”
“I don't even know.”
Hating on the love I heard in his voice, I sighed. “Whatever, Scooter.”
“For real, Tay-Bae.”
“Does she know that you aren't sure?”
As if his uncertainty bothered him, he huffed. “Nope. She's just waiting for the ring.”
Needing a little more evidence before I threw away my reunion possibilities, I asked, “What's stopping you?”
“Number one, her family has issues with me.”
“Issues with
you
?” I asked.
“Akua's from Ghana. She was raised traditionally.” He chuckled. I took a mental note of her name. “Her parents aren't down for me like that.”
“Wow, that's crazy. Is her family in the states?”
“Yeah, they came here when she was sixteen. They've been here about thirteen years.”
I nodded. “Does it bother her that they don't like you?”
“She claims she doesn't care and she can't live for them, but I know she does.” He sighed. “I hate it. I feel like I'm forcing her to choose between me and them.”
I asked, “So, if you could get rid of Akika's parents, would she be the one?”
He laughed and pronounced her name. “Ah-Coo-Ah. Akua.”
I envied how cute he said her name. In my mind, I made it my business to give her an insensitive nickname. I chuckled at the thought. From this moment on, she'll be referred to as coo-coo, spelled Kuku. As if her name was insignificant, I said, “Whatever, would she be the one?”
“Ah, she's very controlling. That's one of our major issues. Sometimes a man needs someone who'll let him lead.” He sighed. “Someone who's sensitive and doesn't have to always be right.” He huffed, “Shit, I know you're smart. You don't have to prove it to me.”
Take me. Pick me. I'm strong. I'm sensitive. I don't need to prove that I'm smart. I asked, “Why is she so controlling?”
“She's a female surgeon.” He snickered. “An orthopedic surgeon at that.”
Ignorant to the implications, I asked. “And that means what?”
“She's a black woman in a white, male-dominated field. She had to be ten times tighter than everyone in her program to get in, but she still has to fight for respect.” He sighed. “Every day. So, she's constantly on this power trip. Most surgeons are like that, though.” He paused. “I used to find it cute but as it gets closer to that timeâ”
I interrupted. “What time?”
“Time to buy the ring.” Awaiting a response, he paused. My lips were paralyzed. He continued, “I'm starting to wonder if I can deal with that forever.” He sighed. “I wish she could just flip the script at home, but her strong personality is what's going to make her one of the best female surgeons. Is it fair for me to ask her to change who she is?”
“I guess not.” Then, I asked, “So what was it that attracted you to her again?”
“I don't know. We used to butt heads when we first started our residency. Then, you know . . .”
“No actually, I don't. So, what happened?”
“When you're in the hospital eighty hours a week, all you get a chance to see are people in the hospital. We ran in the same circle. We were black and single. Other residents started suggesting things, and I think we both concluded why not.”
Innocently, I asked, “So, it wasn't like you guys fell in love.”
“Yeah, I guess you can say that. I mean, I definitely feel like we make good partners.”
I wrinkled my forehead. “Meaning?”
“She's smart and focused. She'll be a great mother.” He chuckled. “We'll make a shitload of money together.”
I promised not to harp on the ignorant money comment. In a sarcastic tone, I said, “So she sounds great.” I tilted my head. “So, what don't you like about her again?”
He chuckled. Then, he sighed. “Her personality. Her family.”
Could this intelligent man actually know how stupid that sounded? “So, you really don't like her.”
I frowned as he attempted to explain those issues were outside of her. “Scooter, those are what make her who she is,” I said.
He tried again. “I mean we get along, but . . .”
“She has no clue that you don't like her personality. Does she?” I huffed.
“Maybe I shouldn't have said her personality. I like being with her. I just don't like that she's so bossy.”
“So, tell me. What is the biggest issue, her bossiness or her family?”
“Both.”
“So why have you stayed so long?”
“Probably because I'm comfortable and I thought she was the best thing going.”
Running water echoed through the phone. I asked, “Are you in the bathroom?”
“Yeah, I'm about to get in the shower.”
I visualized his Hershey-colored body, standing naked. I imagined his large endowment just hanging freely and before I realized it, my right hand was tucked between my tightly closed thighs. I grunted.
He laughed. “I wish you could get in here with me.”
My mind warned me not to entertain him, but my libido yelled obscene responses. I tucked my bottom lips in and snickered. “Whatever.”
Replaying him inside of me, I moaned. Satisfied that he'd aroused my interest, he laughed. “Have you been with anyone since I was there?”
I moaned, “No.”
“Be honest.”
“Honestly. I haven't been with anyone. I've been working andâ”
He cut me off. “And thinking about how good it felt with me inside of you.”
My vagina tingled and my eyes rolled into my head. Pressing my inner thighs tightly together, I coaxed myself to fight the feeling consuming my body. Again, I tried to finish my statement, “I haven't had time to think about sex.”
He kidded. “I know âMs. Gotta Have It' has at least thought about it.”
I reminded him that he was referring to a horny little teenager whose parents didn't allow her out of the house.
“Yeah, but women usually want sex more with age.”
Thinking of our early days, I moaned. To be young and explorative. I sighed.
“What are you thinking about?” he asked.
“How we used to act like animals.”
He laughed. “And it's still the best I ever had.”
“Don't patronize me.”
He hesitated and then admitted, “I swear I wish I was just playing, but ever since I left Maryland, all I can think about isâ”
I interrupted him. “Scooter, stopâ”
“Every time I think about you, I get hard.”
Although I wanted to resist, I let my hand explore myself. “What about your girl?”
“You know our chemistry has always been strong.”
My panties were drenched, my senses blurred. I needed to hear more of how I made him feel. “It's too late now.”
“I'm not married. It ain't never too late.”
I sighed. “Why are you doing this to me?”
“Why did you do this to me?”
My face frowned with suspicion. “What did I do to you?”
“Made me think about leaving my girl.”
Maybe all of my parents' prayers had been answered.
I stuttered, “What?”
“When I settled down with Akua, I thought I'd done all I wanted to do. After the night I spent with you, I can't shake it. I keep questioning my relationship.” He paused. “I want to see you.”
“Why did it take you so long to call?”
“I didn't want this. I didn't want to hurt her. Then, I realized that I have to be happy before I can make anyone else happy.”
I nodded. He added, “Right?”
“Yes.”
Â
The busy signal came through my phone and startled me as it lay tucked between my ear and my pillow. I sat up and looked around. It was four o'clock in the morning. Did I fall asleep on Scooter? Trying to remember the last few things we discussed, I rubbed my eyes. He asked me to come see him this weekend.
Possibilities danced in my mind as I thought about what we talked about and how he repeated that I was his ideal mate. I sighed and tried to go back to sleep. I couldn't recall when I actually fell asleep, but when the alarm clock went off at 7:00, it felt like I'd only slept for fifteen minutes. Cursing at the clock, I pounded on the snooze button. Finally, I peeled myself out of bed and prepared for work.
On my way to work, Courtney and I chatted on the phone about nothing. We agreed to meet for drinks later and got off the phone. I was surprised to find a text message when I hung up. I quickly opened it.
Scooter wrote: HAVE A GOOD DAY, BABY. WILL TALK 2 U LATER ABOUT THIS WEEKEND.
Â
As I sat waiting for Courtney and her coworker, Rachael, to arrive at Red Tavern, Scooter called. I swirled my martini glass and simultaneously answered. My syllables rolled slowly off my tongue. “Hello.”
He sounded preoccupied. “Hey, what's up?”
“Nothing much. How was your day?”
He shuffled papers and huffed, “Stressed.”
“Yeah, I'm sure. What time did you get to work?”
“Seven.”
“I'm so sorry.”
He fumbled more and said, “It's not your fault. Time just slipped away. We could always talk all night.”
I sipped my drink and agreed, saying, “You ain't lying.”
“So how was your day?”
“I guess it was okay. Work is work. I'm at a restaurant waiting for Courtney.”
“Where's she?”
“She's supposed to be here.”
He chuckled. “The odd couple.”
“Yep, we're still together.”
“Courtney was my girl. I used to feel like I belonged to the both of you.”
“Yeah, I remember you always said that. Her fiancé always claims he has two women, too.”
Engulfed in my conversation, I hadn't noticed Courtney's arrival. Courtney wrapped her arms around my shoulders and leaned her head in toward mine. “Hey girl.”
I jumped, practically closing my phone as I spoke, “Hey, can you call me a little later.”
As he rambled on as to when he'd be able to call again, I shooed him off of the phone. “Okay. That's cool. It's whatever. Bye.”
I quickly closed my phone and looked at Courtney, who sat beside me with her face twisted in a knot. I attempted to ignore her inquisitive look. Without giving Courtney eye contact, I greeted Rachael.
“Hey, Rachael. How you doing girl?”
Rachael reached over Courtney to touch my hand. “Girl. I'm fine.”
The quick exchange allowed me to evade Courtney's expression one second longer. I offered to buy a round of drinks.
When I pointed to Courtney to take her order, she smirked. “Who were you talking to?”
I waved my hand and proceeded to Rachael. She answered, “A cosmo.”
Courtney asked again, “Who were you talking to hooker?”
“What are you having?”
After she ordered her drink, she returned to the question at hand. “Who were you talking to when I came in?”
“This guy.”