didn’t burn. Want me to hold it up to the phone so you can see it? This one you have on the thong.”
“Good-bye, Claudio. Hang up the phone.”
“Is this how you treat the man who saved your life?”
“Next time, let me fall. I’ve died a thousand deaths since then.”
That shut him down for a few seconds.
I said, “I’m trying not to get angry, trying not to be rude by hanging up in your face, so find it in your heart to respect me. Say good-bye and get on with your life.”
“Well, until you tell me not to call—”
“I’m getting married, Claudio.”
Silence. The kind that comes after a bomb has dropped. I thought he had hung up, but he panted back to life, sounding dazed and confused. “Married?”
“Yep.”
“Getting or got?”
“Getting.”
“That was quick.”
“Nope, you were slow. You had your chance.”
“Damn.”
“What, did you expect me to cross my legs, become a nun, and chant hymns to the moon? It don’t work like that.”
“You said that you’d love me forever, no matter what.”
I rubbed my eyes. Inside my mouth every taste bud was swollen, infected by a soured love’s bitter juice.
He said, “Until you get married, you ain’t married, so I’m gonna try.”
“Claudio, don’t do this. You had your chance.”
“I love you. We’re soul ma—”
I hung up. I didn’t whack the phone in the receiver. I pushed down on the button and let Mr. Dial Tone do the rest.
I waited for it to ring again. It didn’t. A long second later I slumped back to life. After that conversation, I’d tensed up and held my breath so long I had to be dark blue. His Brooklyn voice lingered like a bad cold. He had stirred up old feelings, ancient memories that felt like they happened yesterday.
He didn’t lie. He had saved my life.
The phone rang again. It was Vince. He was done with his laundry, had rented a couple of movies from Block-buster.
I wiped the frustration from my eyes and put some happy in my voice. “Sounds like a plan. What you get?”
“A flick called Cappuccino.”
“Lots of sex?”
“Yeah. Lots of plot twists, drama, and sex.”
“Juicy, juicy. Bring it on.”
We hung up. In the background, my shower was still running, the humidity seeping from underneath the door, drifting into the hallway. So much steam that when I opened the door, the walls were crying.
I didn’t shower. My mood had been stolen from me. I turned the water off and went into the kitchen. I put on a pot of vegetables, started broiling salmon made with a shrimp stuffing. That’s what Vince likes, so that’s what I make. I’ve adapted to his world, changed my eating habits, started becoming part of him. He’s made changes too, become part of me.
Claudio was coming to L.A.
I had become Bess, wanting Vince to save me from being handled by my old lover’s hot hands.
Dinner and a movie went by in no time flat. It was a hot, steamy movie with enough twists to keep my mind occupied. Vince showered while I cleaned up the kitchen. Then I hopped in and scrubbed while he ironed his shirt for work tomorrow. A few of my things were lying around, slacks and a cotton blouse that had a wrinkle or two, and he pressed those for me. He always did that without my having to ask.
A good thirty minutes went by with me standing underneath that shower. The water ran cold and I took the hint. Thoughts. So many of them at the same time. I rubbed my skin down with baby oil, stepped out wet from braids to toenails. I thought that Vince was waiting for me in the bed, maybe already dozing off, but he came to me in red silk boxers.
I joked, “You know you’re wearing gang colors?”
No laughter from him. That insatiable look was in his eye.
Jazz was breathing through my shower radio, KTWV playing Cassandra Wilson and Luther Vandross’s duet, telling the world that they were only human, bound to make mistakes. Eucalyptus-scented candles were already lit; that was the dimly lit, erotic environment I loved to hide myself inside when I was bathing.
One long kiss later, I had melted into the bathroom floor, legs open wide, his tongue dancing down where the honey was always sweet, massaging deep inside my Queen jelly. Plain and simple, Vince was tearing it up. Call me 7-Eleven because I was ready to stay open all night.
I couldn’t wait; needed this so badly. Needed the escape.
Good loving was supposed to help