Women on the Edge
I must have blown my horn fifty times before Yvette finally decided to step out of the house. Damn! I told Yvette I would be at her house at seven o'clock, and she knows I'm never late. I know she doesn't think I've changed overnight. It takes that girl forever to get herself ready. Her makeup alone must take two hours to apply; she wears so damn much of it. I was just about to leave when she walked her tired ass out to the car, taking her time as if we had all night.
"What took you so long?" I screamed as she closed the door of my brand new cherry colored Lexus jeep behind her. She always had a million and one excuses.
"Excuse me, but I was talking to Dana on the phone!"
If she was talking to Dana, it could only mean one thing; Dana wasn’t ready either.
"Well, what did Dana have to say?"
For the life of me I don't know why I asked that question. I was only going to get a long dragged out story that I really didn't want to hear.
"She's not coming; so don't bother to pick her up. She called you first but you had already left".
If she really wanted to speak to me she would have called me earlier. She knew what time we were leaving. She knew when she called that I had already left. She just knows that I would say something about her lack of consideration. She didn't want to hear it.
"What's wrong? James won't let her out?"
I knew that Yvette was going to get angry. I didn't care; it was the truth. James had such a tight grip on Dana that she needed permission to take a piss. Dana was the youngest of the group and also the most vulnerable. We were taking her out tonight to celebrate her new job position at Motorola. She was finally promoted to Assistant Manager after three years of busting her ass to cover his sorry ass. Dana was well educated with a Bachelors degree in Business, and still lacked the confidence to demand better of her boss. She preferred to kiss his ass instead of kicking his ass, and her personal relationship was not much better, considering James treated her like his servant, instead of his wife. We planned to take her out tonight, and teach her how to be a little more aggressive in her business, and personal life. I guess James had other plans. Yvette gave me that look that only Yvette could give.
Why are you always talking shit?" She asked while checking her face in the mirror.
"Because Dana is a fool; James has her so wrapped around his little finger; she can't do anything without checking with him first. I'm sorry, but no man is going to be telling me what I can and cannot do."
"You know, it wasn't that long ago Kimberly when you were wrapped around Derek's finger. Just because you finally wised up doesn't give you the right to jump on Dana. She's doing what she wants to do. She doesn't have to answer to you, you're not her mother."
I put the car in gear, and started to pull off. Yvette looked over at me and put her seat belt on.
"Why are you so hard on Dana?" She asked again, as though the lecture she just gave me was not enough. I didn't want to get into this with her. She was always taking up for Dana. Dana could do no wrong in Yvette's eyes. Dana was the sweet one, and I was the bitch! She just told me I wasn't Dana's mother, and here she is acting like she's her mother. I just kept quiet and drove toward the Rte 80 ramp, hoping the accident was cleared up.
The night was already turning into a disaster. First Derek, my ex husband, didn't show up to pick up our daughter Sasha. I had to take her to my sister, who lives halfway across town. Then I got caught in traffic because of a car accident on Rte. 80, and then I sat waiting for Yvette for damn near a half-hour only to hear that Dana, who is the reason why we are going out in the first place, is not coming. Why don't I just go home, take a hot bath, and fall asleep while reading a good book?
We must have sat in traffic on Rte 80 for about fifteen minutes. I knew this was going to happen. That's exactly why I wanted to leave early. Friday nights are always this way. I wasn't even in the mood to party anymore, but I figured, what the hell, I'm out here now. Yvette was looking in the mirror again at her makeup. I looked over at her. She looked ten years older tonight. I wasn't surprised; she wears entirely too much makeup.
"Kimberly can we stop and pick up some cigarettes?"
I didn't think it was wise for me to say anything to Yvette because the next words out of my mouth would not have been nice.
"Kimberly I'm talking to you!" She snapped.
"Damn it Yvette! Why didn't you tell me before we got on the highway?" I pressed my foot down on the gas pedal, and the jeep sped up. She knew I was angry, but she didn't give a damn. That's just how she was. My exit was coming, so I signaled to go to the right lane. I knew I was going to stop at the store, so there was no use in saying anything else.
I stopped at the first store I came to, a 7 Eleven, and Yvette jumped out, and went inside. She didn't take long to come back to the jeep. She pulled out a cigarette, and put it in her mouth, as she opened the door.
"Don't light that in here!" I snapped as she started to strike a match. I was not in the mood to indulge her.
"Since when can’t I smoke?"
"I just brought this thing. Can’t it keep its new smell for at least a month?"
"Damn Kim you are so trifling."
I didn’t care. She was going to wait until we got to the club before she smoked that cigarette. I was no longer in the mood to party, but I needed a drink.
We arrived at this little club that one of Yvette's friends recommended, The Hot Spot, a little after ten. Nothing was happening yet but I wanted to get a good seat. I didn't care what Yvette said; tonight I was not sitting at the bar. It made us look so desperate, and frankly, I was not. I certainly get enough grief from my ex husband to last me a lifetime. I didn't want to get involved with anyone. I just wanted to have some fun, forget about my troubles, maybe get laid, and I hoped this night did not end the way it started.
When we walked in Yvette went straight for the bar. I’m sure she was probably mad, but I didn't care. I was not going to the bar. She sat on the bar stool, and finally lit her cigarette. I walked over to the first empty table I saw. The waitress came over, and asked if I wanted a drink. I ordered a Harvey's on the rocks with a twist of lemon.
I looked over at Yvette at the bar. She was talking to a man. I didn’t notice her hair in the car. She was wearing a new wig. Maybe that's why she looked older. She was still trying to squeeze her big ass in those stretch pants; she just needs to stop. I wondered whom she was talking to, and I hoped she didn’t bring him to my table. Of course, that was not the case, and before I could protest, the two of them were at my table.
"Kim this is Bobby," She said, rolling her eyes as they sat down. He shook my hand, and said it was nice to meet me.
"It's nice to meet you too," I said trying to act as if I meant it. The waitress, a slender African American with a close hair cut, big lips, which she covered in bright red lipstick, and large eyes that jumped out at you came over, and took their order. Beer for Yvette, scotch on the rocks for Bobby. I looked at Yvette, and gave her my ‘Don't even think about leaving him here with me’ look. She took a sip of beer.
"Yvette tells me you two have been friends for a long time."
I didn't know if he was asking me or telling me. He must have noticed the tension between us. I looked over at Yvette, and smiled.
"That's right, for a lot of years."
I said as if to ask what of it. Yvette got up and said she would be right back. I knew she wasn't coming back; she took her drink with her.
It was just Bobby and me, sitting there staring at each other. She always pulls this. I keep telling her I am not interested in anybody that she picks for me. However, she’s just plain hard of hearing. You should see some of the men she tries to match me up with. Some of them I wouldn't even put on my worst enemy. But no matter how many times I tell her to stop trying to set me up, the more she keeps on doing it. One day I am going to embarrass her.
"That red dress you're wearing is definitely working. Not many black women can wear red. But on you, it looks fabulous."
I looked across the table at him. He was smiling like a wolf that just happened upon a sheep he wanted to devour. He knew the right thing to say, I’ll give him that. I paid a lot of money for this dress, and I knew it was working. I said thank you anyway.
"So you went to school with Yvette?" I finally asked.
"Sort of; she went to school, I just hung out there," he said.
Oh good, a high school drop out, what next? I wasn't sure I wanted to hear anymore. The next thing you know, he’ll be telling me he spent time in prison, and then he would have to get to stepping. I took a sip from my glass, and I looked at him.
He didn't look that bad. Dark skinned; short wavy hair, and deep brown eyes. He wasn't dressed too bad either, but I wasn't falling for him. No way!
"Did you and Yvette date?" I asked. He was acting like he didn't want to answer the question, and that was fine because I already had my answer from the expression on his face. That made it final. I did not intend to be involved with a man that Yvette already had her claws into. Even if it was just a wham, bam, thank you ma’am.
"Why would you ask me a question like that?" He asked. "Did Yvette say we dated?" He continued, a little on the defensive side.
I wondered why he was acting as if I uncovered some deep dark secret. Did he have something to hide? It was just a question.
"I always ask questions that I want to know the answers to. Do you have a problem with that?" I asked sharply.
"No, I don't have a problem with that. Yeah, Yvette and I dated. Do you have a problem with that?"
"No I don't have a problem with that," I said. I took the last sip of my drink and called the waitress over for a refill.
After about twenty minutes, Bobby and I were barely speaking. He was drinking his same scotch, and I was on my second Harvey's. I could feel him staring at me, although I refused to look him in the eye. I knew what he was thinking, but it was not going to happen here.
These men were all alike. You can't trust any of them. Just when you think you've got it all, they pull the rug from under you. Take Derek; I gave that man ten years of my life. For ten years I put his needs before mine. For ten years I put up with his bullshit and where did it get me? Nowhere!
Gave him my heart and soul, and he hands me divorce papers. Now ain't that some shit? If that wasn't bad enough, he blamed me for the divorce. His falling in love with someone else was my fault! I made him do it, he says. "Wasn't my love enough?" I asked him. He didn't say a word. He didn't say one single word. I am through with men forever!
I finished off my drink and looked over at Bobby. He was drooling. Can you believe that? I just looked at him until he finally spoke.