puff-sleeved blouse and a black pencil skirt that falls just above my knees. And I reach up to my top shelf and pull out a pair of BCBGirls black peep-toe pumps, then find some sheer panty hose. I get dressed as fast as possible, finger-comb my hair, and grab my work uniform plus a pair of comfortable flats that I can change into later.
It’s only by a sheer miracle that I am able to leave the apartment before Marlene. As I depart my bedroom and pass through the living area, I can hear the shower running. Thank God Marlene loves to take long, hot showers. And that’s why, if I’m smart, I always take my shower the night before, because if I try to take one after she gets out, the water runs miserably cold. But she doesn’t care. She claims long showers are her “therapy.” Well, this girl needs to stay in that shower for the next few weeks.
Drown, bitch, drown. It seems like something tragic will have to happen to get my sister to wake up.
Meanwhile, I am not opposed to using some different techniques to get what I want. So I sneak out of the house, hop in my car, and drive out of the apartment complex until I hit Highway 6 South. It’s amazing how one day you tell yourself you’ll never go a certain place ever again, but the next day circumstances cause you to retract your words. Minutes later I pull up into the parking lot of Waffle House, which is adjacent to an Advance Auto Parts. I recognize Ella right away. Jeff’s precious car is parked at an angle taking up two whole spaces so that no one else can get too close. The way he dotes on his car burns me up. Yet I gotta do what I gotta do. My heart beats wildly, and a line of sweat develops on my forehead. I feel as nervous as the day I knew I would tell Jeff no to getting married.
I step out of my car and begin walking toward therestaurant. As usual, it’s crowded. Waitresses are taking orders and barking them to the cooks. The cooks pour coffee, crack egg shells, and spoon pancake batter onto the waffle maker. Customers are eating breakfast and chatting loudly as this Monday morning’s activities begin.
Jeff is sitting by himself in the corner of the restaurant. His PDA is firmly pressed against his ear. He’s vigorously nodding his head, and I see his lips moving, like he’s talking to someone. I quickly slide into the seat in front of him and rest my hands on the table. He looks up, his eyes enlarge, and he talks loud.
“Hey, man, I gotta do something real quick. I’ll hit you back this afternoon,” he says and hangs up. “Rachel? What are you doing here?”
“Jeff, we need to talk.”
“Oh, yeah? Is that why you’re here? So you can talk?”
“Yes, Jeff, yes.”
“Why can’t you just pick up the phone? Call a brother?”
“I’m scared you won’t answer my calls.”
“You’re scared I won’t answer your calls?”
“Please stop repeating everything I say. I’m nervous enough as it is.”
He smirks, and his facial expression makes me feel like I’m swimming against a tide. His inability to take me seriously makes this hard.
“How’d you know I was here, Rachel?”
“My sister said you two were meeting. Jeff, why are you doing this, honey? I mean, what are you trying to prove?”
His eyes flicker with amusement. I guess he can see through my questions. He closely examines my blouse and starts sniffing the air. He knows my fragrance. Donna Karan Cashmere Mist. I remember whenever I’d wear it he’d sink his nose into my neck and inhale my seductive scent. Then his lips would press against my skin. I’d close my eyes, lost in the magicof his touch. We’d end up kissing and rubbing our hands all over each other. In a matter of minutes we’d peel off each other’s clothes. And he’d kiss me everywhere, sucking the hungriest parts of my body until he completed the job, while I twisted and jerked, screaming out his name and cradling his head in my hands. I’m beginning to question why I was so afraid of his love. I
It’s only by a sheer miracle that I am able to leave the apartment before Marlene. As I depart my bedroom and pass through the living area, I can hear the shower running. Thank God Marlene loves to take long, hot showers. And that’s why, if I’m smart, I always take my shower the night before, because if I try to take one after she gets out, the water runs miserably cold. But she doesn’t care. She claims long showers are her “therapy.” Well, this girl needs to stay in that shower for the next few weeks.
Drown, bitch, drown. It seems like something tragic will have to happen to get my sister to wake up.
Meanwhile, I am not opposed to using some different techniques to get what I want. So I sneak out of the house, hop in my car, and drive out of the apartment complex until I hit Highway 6 South. It’s amazing how one day you tell yourself you’ll never go a certain place ever again, but the next day circumstances cause you to retract your words. Minutes later I pull up into the parking lot of Waffle House, which is adjacent to an Advance Auto Parts. I recognize Ella right away. Jeff’s precious car is parked at an angle taking up two whole spaces so that no one else can get too close. The way he dotes on his car burns me up. Yet I gotta do what I gotta do. My heart beats wildly, and a line of sweat develops on my forehead. I feel as nervous as the day I knew I would tell Jeff no to getting married.
I step out of my car and begin walking toward therestaurant. As usual, it’s crowded. Waitresses are taking orders and barking them to the cooks. The cooks pour coffee, crack egg shells, and spoon pancake batter onto the waffle maker. Customers are eating breakfast and chatting loudly as this Monday morning’s activities begin.
Jeff is sitting by himself in the corner of the restaurant. His PDA is firmly pressed against his ear. He’s vigorously nodding his head, and I see his lips moving, like he’s talking to someone. I quickly slide into the seat in front of him and rest my hands on the table. He looks up, his eyes enlarge, and he talks loud.
“Hey, man, I gotta do something real quick. I’ll hit you back this afternoon,” he says and hangs up. “Rachel? What are you doing here?”
“Jeff, we need to talk.”
“Oh, yeah? Is that why you’re here? So you can talk?”
“Yes, Jeff, yes.”
“Why can’t you just pick up the phone? Call a brother?”
“I’m scared you won’t answer my calls.”
“You’re scared I won’t answer your calls?”
“Please stop repeating everything I say. I’m nervous enough as it is.”
He smirks, and his facial expression makes me feel like I’m swimming against a tide. His inability to take me seriously makes this hard.
“How’d you know I was here, Rachel?”
“My sister said you two were meeting. Jeff, why are you doing this, honey? I mean, what are you trying to prove?”
His eyes flicker with amusement. I guess he can see through my questions. He closely examines my blouse and starts sniffing the air. He knows my fragrance. Donna Karan Cashmere Mist. I remember whenever I’d wear it he’d sink his nose into my neck and inhale my seductive scent. Then his lips would press against my skin. I’d close my eyes, lost in the magicof his touch. We’d end up kissing and rubbing our hands all over each other. In a matter of minutes we’d peel off each other’s clothes. And he’d kiss me everywhere, sucking the hungriest parts of my body until he completed the job, while I twisted and jerked, screaming out his name and cradling his head in my hands. I’m beginning to question why I was so afraid of his love. I
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