Somebody Else's Man Read online

  Two minutes after my mom pulled off, Ernest came in. He is a tall, bald, stocky man with light olive skin. He works for Amtrak and works overtime almost every day. So he can pay for everything my mother buys.

  “Hey, Nikki. Where is your mom?” he asked, limping in the door.

  “She said she had to go to a sales meeting.”

  “So, your mom ordered some more stuff?” he said, shaking his head, looking at the big box in the living room. “I’m going to cut her credit cards off. She is out of control with her shopping.”

  It always amazed me how Ernest would act surprised by my mother’s purchases when he was her sponsor. Every time he told her not to charge anything else, they would start arguing and she would cuss him out. He would have to sleep on the sofa. A few days later, he would apologize and then give her more money to make up for upsetting her. He showed his love by spoiling her. He spoiled me, too, but he spoiled me from a distance—like an uncle—and didn’t discipline me at all. He was there for all my milestones, but he didn’t really treat me like his daughter, and I didn’t think of him as a father. I thought of Ernest as just my mother’s husband. Plus, whatever my mom said, he generally went along with. As he pulled the television out of the box to examine it, I asked him if my mom was really kicking me out in three months.

  “No, don’t listen to Lois. She ain’t really kicking you out. She is just trying to scare you. You still got your year, but you better get to fixing up that house.”

  “I know. I just don’t know where to begin.”

  “Nicole, the best thing and only way to handle that house is a little at a time.”

  “You’re right, Ernest, I’m just so scared.”

  “You just got to get you a better job and find you a good man to help you.”

  “Yeah, I guess.”

  As I walked up the stairs, the only thing I could think of was that I needed to get out of this crazy house. I walked into the only room I had any peace in. My tiny bedroom. I could only fit in one dresser and a full-size bed. I had moved back home with my mother after I was ripped off by this home remodeling company. I bought a fixer-upper house and got scammed out of thirty-one thousand dollars.

  One of the hotel guests was a real estate investor named Warren Lieblich. He would come in from Palm Springs, Florida, every month and would go to the sheriff’s sale and buy houses. He would tip the front desk a hundred dollars just for calling a cab for him. He was always pulling out wads of hundreds. So, I asked him how could I get started. He gave me a little information and I bought a house for a couple of thousand dollars and then I got a loan against it. I was ready to buy cheap property all over the city. I really thought I was on my way to being a real estate mogul. I had it all planned out. I was going to convert the house into a duplex. I was going to have the people on the first floor paying off my loan and I would live rent-free on the second floor. But the contractors had another plan. They went in my house and began fixing it up, for two days. Then the next day they never showed up, and I had already paid them.

  The next day I went up to their office, but it was empty and the phone was disconnected. I felt so violated and taken advantage of. I sued them and filed a complaint, but I’m probably never going to see any of my money, because I heard that hundreds of other people are suing them, too. I didn’t get none of my money back yet, and doubt if I ever will.

  CHAPTER 3

  Every weekend someone thought it would be a good idea to have a party at our hotel. Today it was a pool party. Usually I would turn my head the other way, but as I was making my rounds I saw dozens of kids running down the hall and a trail of water followed them. I walked to the pool area and saw a cake and food near the pool. It was all these children doing cannonballs in our shallow pool. They were running and sliding all over the hard concrete that surrounded the pool. Every time they ran I cringed. I knew it was only a matter of time before someone got hurt. There were kids playing in the hot tub. It was pure chaos. I walked over to a few parents sitting nearby. “Who is in charge of this party?”

  “I am,” a heavyset blonde said, raising her hand.

  “Miss, you can’t let your children run and jump in the pool.”

  “What’s wrong? We’re not doing anything wrong. I paid for my hotel room, so they can get in the pool.”

  “I know you did, ma’am. But the kids shouldn’t be running up and down the hall.”

  “They’re not running up and down the hall. They’re fine, they’re kids.”

  As soon as she said that, a little boy slid and hit his head on the side of the pool. The blonde ran over to him. He was bleeding profusely from a big gash on the back of his head. I dialed 911, as all the children ran over to see if he was all right. The party was over. The little boy that slipped was her son, the birthday boy. She took him to the hospital and the rest of the party packed up and left, leaving a path of destruction.

  I called our maintenance man over the walkie-talkie and told him to meet me at the pool. Curtis came up in blue Dickie pants and a white-and-blue striped shirt with his nametag on it. He worked at the hotel before I got there, but I didn’t care for him because he was always staring real hard, like he had X-ray vision and could see through clothes. He was just a crusty-looking, perverted-looking man. His nickname in the hotel was Smokebreak, because he was always bumming a cigarette and smoking outside, and his dark complexion.

  “Curtis, close the pool, please. And have this area cleaned.”

  He looked around at all the mess and said, “Don’t worry about it. I have it, but please stop calling me Curtis. Miss lady, the only time I’m Curtis is when I cash my check. I’m always Smokebreak.”

  “Right, Smoke break,” I repeated after him.

  “No, one word. It’s a compound word—Smokebreak.” I was thinking, Whatever, just please get this pool area looking back to normal. My day could not end soon enough.

  After a long day of work I needed a drink. I was meeting up with my friends for drinks at the legendary Copa. The Copa was known for making great margaritas. I waited for Tia and the unofficial member of our team, Reshaun. Reshaun was a little older than us and had a son. She was my girl, but we weren’t as close as me and Tia.

  I noticed the Copa was filled with women on girlfriend dates. I hoped that the women were just taking a night off from the kids and husbands and not actually out here trying to scope like I was. If so, that meant the thirty-to-one ratio was not just a myth, because there were about sixty women and only two guys sitting at the bar and there was not enough testosterone to go around. I looked around, and texted Tia and told her to hurry up.

  I love Tia like the sister I never had. It’s been me and her since fourth grade. We got in trouble together all through grade school and high school. In our senior year at Martin Luther King High School, we were bored one day and began pulling the fire alarms just to have a little fun. Needless to say, we got suspended and as soon as we were reinstated we got kicked out for inciting a riot. At least that’s what the records say. We didn’t start a riot. We just both were in the middle of a big free-for-all fight. We were the Thelma and Louise of Mount Airy just because we didn’t have anything else to do. It was so boring in our neighborhood. To this day, my mom has never forgiven Tia for getting me kicked out of our high school. We were so damn bad for no reason at all.

  My former partner in crime is now a police officer. I love her, but I told her if I dialed 911, I would not want to see her show up and help me. Because Tia got some mean ways, like if she thinks you think you’re cute, she will give you a ticket. And she is not the least bit diplomatic—everything has to be her way. But it works for her, because she loves her job. Though she’s a cop, she’s been dating this d-boy/con artist for the last six years, on and off. Her man’s name is Lamar, and he’s the kind of guy who just doesn’t want to do anything right. Instead of working, he’d rather find a quick hustle. And when he is not scamming or getting lawsuits, he tries to sell weed. I think he smokes more than he
sells. He’s such a con artist, he always got a slip-and-fall case pending. At one point, he even had a three-card molly ring going on down-town. So, being Tia’s best friend, I’m all for her dumping that loser, Lamar, and upgrading to someone who at least earns a legitimate income.

  Tia walked in the bar smiling. “You okay?” she asked. She knows me like the back of her hand, and just one look at me told her that something was wrong. She’s tall, thin, with almond-colored skin and a boy shape. She was dressed in black, dirty-wash jeans and a cream, oversize sweater. She walked in and hugged me.

  “What the married man do now?” she said as she scrunched my shoulder.

  I removed her hand and said, “It’s not the married man this time.” I pushed the obituary over to her. “Look, that’s my dad,” I said.

  “Wow, you went? Why’d you go by yourself? I told you I would go with you.”

  “Yeah, I know. I decided to go at the last minute. I just felt like I had to be there. I wanted to see him for the last time, you know?” I felt tears building up and I tried to hold them back. They were starting to cloud my vision, but as I spoke I just couldn’t stop them. “It’s just not fair, Tia. Like…” I paused for a second. “You don’t understand. All I ever wanted to do was have a conversation with him.” I picked up a napkin and started dabbing at my eyes.

  “It’s okay,” Tia said as she took a seat and patted my back.

  I didn’t think I would break down in the busy restaurant. I tried to wipe my tears away with the small white paper napkin. “I’m tripping, right? I just think my dad could have helped me. Look at the types of men I’ve dealt with. If my dad had been in my life, he would have warned me not to get involved with married men or he would have made sure that I went to college. If he’d acted like a father, I wouldn’t be stuck in a dead-end job. I just wish I knew him. You don’t know how that feels to not know your own father.”

  “You’re right. But I do know having family is a lot of drama,” Tia said, trying to make me feel better.

  Of course, she could say that—she was the baby girl of four, her parents were still happily married, and her whole family spoiled her and gave her whatever she wanted.

  “You know, I just wonder what my mom did to make him leave. She had to do something horrible to make him not even want to be around me.”

  “What makes you think it’s your mom’s fault?” Tia asked.

  “Come on, you know my mom is mean. Look at how she treats Ernest. It had to be her, because the one and only time I met my dad, he really seemed like he had it together. He had two other kids and took care of them. My father was a teacher—that meant he was around children all day. He must have liked kids.”

  “I don’t know and it doesn’t matter. Don’t worry about him or that stupid family. Look at you and all you’ve accomplished without your father or his family. But then again, Lolo might have something to do with it,” she agreed. We both laughed and our waitress approached us and took our margarita orders.

  “I didn’t come out to spend the night talking about Lolo, but guess what? She told me I have to move in three months.”

  “Yo, your mother is so crazy. Remember when she made you wear the same clothes to school for a month as a punishment and everyone was laughing at you?”

  “Yes, I remember that shit. I’m still traumatized. That was on some abusive Mommy Dearest bullshit. But, forget Lolo, I really feel like a piece of me has been missing my whole life,” I said as I tried to hold back more tears.

  “Nikki, knowing your dad would not have made your life perfect. If that was the case, then what’s my excuse? I have both my parents and I still make bad decisions about men. Shit, look who I’ve been with for the past six years!”

  “I know what you are saying, but I just think it would be different if he’d been a part of my life.”

  “No, it wouldn’t have. You grew up with Ernest. He is a good stepdad.”

  “It’s not the same,” I said, shaking my head in disagreement.

  “Come on, Nicole, daddies don’t solve everything in life. I got a lot of shit wrong in my life, too. One thing I’ve learned in life is that you don’t get everything you want. Everybody is missing something. Nobody gets five out of five. And everything happens for a reason.”

  “I feel like I got zero out of five. I just wish I knew him before he died.”

  “I know. I know, but you can’t change what’s already done.”

  For the next twenty minutes me and Tia were going back and forth, and she couldn’t change my opinion or how I felt. The waitress placed our drinks on the table and Tia began defending her argument again.

  “Who do you know who got both their parents and are smart, look good, have a good relationship, a banging body, and just got it all? Seriously, think about everybody you know. Everybody is longing for or missing out on something. Take me for example…I’m cute, I got a man, I have both my parents, I have a good job, but I got a flat butt.”

  I looked at Tia and we both started laughing again. She was so damn silly.

  “You right. So nobody gets five out of five?”

  “I don’t think so. I think it rarely happens that way,” she said, as she flagged our waitress down and ordered another round. She sipped on her drink some more and then she turned her attention back to me and said, “Listen, may he rest in peace, but forget that man. Seriously, life goes on.” I took a deep breath and tried to agree with her.

  Tia’s phone rang. I took another sip of my margarita and looked over at the entrance. I hoped some men would show up so I could have some eye candy to look at, because all these other girlfriends on dates wasn’t what I wanted to see. The same two men were at the bar and I think they were more interested in each other than in any of the women in the place.

  “Oh, my God! She is crazy!” Tia said as she placed her phone in her bag.

  “Who was that?”

  “It was Reshaun. She is on her way and she really is marrying that African. Soon as she gets here, we both need to get in her ear.”

  “What? He trying to stay in the country?” I asked.

  “No, I think she just wants a free ride and she sees this as her opportunity to sit back and not have to work so hard. You know James hasn’t been helping her with Briggy since they broke up. So she can be marrying him for so many reasons.”

  Mid-conversation, Reshaun came in. She was all smiles. I felt bad that we were about to ruin her smile. She was always so happy and always had something nice to say. But something had to be said. How do you marry a man that you’ve only known for thirty days?

  “Did y’all order my drink?” Reshaun asked.

  “Yeah, get your drink ’cause we coming for you,” Tia joked as Reshaun ordered an apple martini.

  “What are you talking about?” she asked, as she took off her colorful scarf and hung her gray wool jacket on the back of her chair. Reshaun was cute, with a curvy, size twelve shape. She wore her hair back in a clip with curls hanging out of the clip. She was wearing chunky black-and-silver earrings, dark jeans, and a sheer black shirt.

  “Reshaun, why are you marrying that man just so he can get a green card? Do you love him?” Tia blurted out.

  “A little. Well, I’m not exactly in love yet. But I like him. I just got to dress him up some.”

  “What if he runs back to his country or something?” I asked.

  “Oh, God! Y’all sound like my mother,” she laughed.

  “No, this is for real,” I said, hoping we could get through to her.

  “Reshaun, sweetie. I know it is hard out here being single, but you don’t have to marry any ol’ body,” Tia said.

  “That’s what y’all think I’m doing?” Reshaun asked as she turned to me and then to Tia.

  “Yeah, pretty much. Don’t throw in the towel yet. You’re still young. Wait until you’re about forty-five or fifty at least, before you to decide to settle down with some African you don’t even know,” Tia chimed in as she grabbed Reshaun’s hand
to offer her support.

  “Listen, his name is Michael. He is not some African. He doesn’t need a green card. He is a citizen and was born and raised in London. Secondly, he’s educated. He has a college degree and he loves me.” She snatched her hand away from Tia’s. The waitress arrived and placed her martini in front of her.

  “I do kind of feel like you’re settling and you didn’t even introduce us to him yet,” I added.

  “I’m not settling and y’all can meet him. We are getting married next week, so I’m not sure if you will get a chance to meet him before then.”

  “So, Reshaun…in only one month, you know he is the one.”

  “Yes!”

  “Why? Because you don’t like your job or your apartment, and you want a new car and a new home with somebody else handling the payments?”

  “He is a good guy. He has done more for my son, Briggy, than his father has done in seven years.”

  “There are a lot of guys out here who will help you with your son,” I said.

  “I don’t think so. He is a good role model for Briggy.”

  “You want Briggy around anyone? For all you know, that man could be a child molester or a serial killer. One month is not enough time to get to know someone,” Tia said, getting more upset.

  “It is hard out here. I know enough about Michael to let him put a ring on it.” Reshaun looked around at all the lonely women sipping on drinks. “I’ve had about enough of this female bonding bullshit.”