Ms. Perspective

“I got something to tell y’all” says Damali, so both Tasha and I get quiet. “I-I-I’m pregnant, and it’s Brandon’s” stutters Damali.  I gasp, and Tasha and I start speaking at the same time- “How far along are you?” “How do you know it’s Brandon’s?” “I thought you wrapped it up?” “Are you keeping it?”  Then silence. Tilting my head to the side with anticipation, “Damali?” In the silence, I stare at my girl- we’ve been girls forever.  Before my parents’ accident, we lived down the street from each other. Growing up we couldn’t have been more opposite.  All the way up to high school graduation, I was the rebellious one.  Somehow I think it was expected of me, since I was the one bouncing from different foster homes. Damali was the conventional one. She was the shortest of all of us, about 5’2 and tiny.  She had just cut her hair into this really short T-Boz look, and it actually looked good on her.  No one really knows what happened to cause her personality change, but in college she began to wild out.

                Freshman year, she started clubbing and every night she went home with a new guy. I thought she would grow out of that, but now she’s 26 and still going strong. Shaking my head, I didn’t mean it like that.  She’s my girl, and I love her but she does her thing.  I love how outspoken she is; she’s never afraid to tell you how the situation really is.  She makes no excuses, and I believe that’s what makes her such a great interior designer.  Her eye for blending colors, shapes, and ideas are amazing. I spend hours in my room that she designed to imitate my spot on the Lake, and the resemblance is remarkable. “Lexi, did you hear me?” “Huh? I’m sorry Damali, I didn’t mean to zone. What did you say?” Damali looks like she’s holding back tears. “I am…. Keeping it. I’m about 5 weeks along, and we did. I don’t know what happened”. With that 2 tears fly to the tabletop, plink. Plink. Grabbing a cheap paper napkin, she blots at her eye. “I haven’t told Brandon yet, and Tash, I KNOW it’s his.  He’s the only one I been having sex with lately. “

Tasha sighs, “how did y’all start….I mean- when did y’all…. Uh… you know what I’m trying to say.” Unexpectantly, Damali starts laughing. “Girl, I’ve had a crush on that man since we were in high school, but back then I was too shy to tell him.  About 7 months ago, I was in ‘Tique and ran into him. We were both drunk as all get out, and well… We ended up at his place.  You know I’m usually gone before the sun rises, but somehow I fell asleep.  He woke me up with cereal and burnt toast-y’all know that boy can’t cook to save his life. *laughs* He set the bowl down and told me that we had to talk.  He didn’t want things to be strange between us, and I felt that, you know? I think we both thought it would only happen once, but we started hanging out. Movies, dinner, watching the game, just the little stuff, and I guessed that since we hadn’t messed around in 3 weeks, we were back to being just friends. A month later, he stopped by my office to bring me lunch. **fans herself** Yes, that was a GOOD day. Right on the desk, then the chairs, window pane. Looking back on it, I think we were trying to convince ourselves that we weren’t attracted to each other and it just built up. Since that day, we’ve been messing with each other.”

“Lexi, don’t look at me like that! I know what you are thinking, and I know how you feel about friends dealing with each other in the same circle.  It isn’t going to be strange. This is Brandon we’re talking about.” Standing up, I walk to the counter to order a fruit punch.  I can feel Damali’s eyes on the back of my head, but I don’t care. I knew I should have just went to my condo. Taking a drink of my fruit punch, I’m thinking about running across the street to Happy’s. I think I need a drink for real. “For real Lex? You just gone leave right while Damali was talking? You are reckless.” Says Tasha while shaking her head and smiling.  She knows too well that I needed a chance to get my thoughts together before I spoke.

As strong and opinionated as Damali is, she’s still very sensitive. How do I tell her that Brandon is just a man, and he’s going to react like any man would if he found out someone may be pregnant with his child? I mean, I’m not sure if I believe that it’s his child, so will he? I don’t want to see her hurt, but I don’t want her to have unrealistic expectations. “Alexia.” Scrunching my lips together, I exhale and say “Brandon is my brother. I’ve known him forever, and there isn’t any man I trust or respect more. I’m sure that he won’t ignore his responsibilities, just be patient with him. You’re going to need to have a lot of patience- not just for him but for yourself. You know that I will help in any way that I can.” “Oh! And I almost forgot, CONGRATS!! But I’m not rubbing your belly; I ain’t trying to be next. UH UN. Not me” I said shaking my head empathetically.

Tasha and Damali start chuckling, they know I’m silly.  Damali looks at Tasha and asks her to be her child’s god mother.  Surprised, Tasha wonders why she was asked and not I, but shrugging her shoulders, she responds with a casual “yea, that’s cool. Any ideas on names, if it’s a ….” Ringing, her phone cuts off her thought.  As soon as she presses talk, you can hear Robert’s voice “Where the hell are you? Your son is crying for his damn ‘mommy’. Do you even know what time it is? Shit!” My eyes get big as I brace myself for what’s about to come. Tasha hasn’t said what’s going on between her and Rob, but I know it isn’t the best. “Hold up! I’m with my girls; I told you that Lexi is in town. I haven’t said shit about you being out late and not bringing your ass home. We aren’t going to talk about this bullshit right now, kiss my son for me. I’ll be home when I bring my black ass home.” She yells into the phone and hangs up.  “God! I need a drink. I swear that man makes me want to choke him. He thinks I don’t know about them bitches.” Nodding her head, she continues. “Watch, he gone bring his ass home, and find that he’s the only one in it.  Matter of fact. Lexi, can Junior and I use your condo for a little while til I can find a new place? I can’t take it anymore! If I stay any longer, I’m going to blow him up. I swear!” Looking around, I finally look at Tasha. “Yes, Tasha, you can, but you already know I’m not going for that drama in my house. I love you and Rob, but you know Rob got a temper and likes to throw shit. All I’m saying is please don’t fight in my place.” “That’s how you gone do me Alexia? I swear…. Bitches get a little money, and start tripping. Fuck that shit then, I don’t need your shit.” Then storms out of Billy’s leaving Damali and I confused.

Buckling the seat-belt, and as I’m pulling off, “Damali…” Cutting me off, “Naw, Lex, let her go. I know what you were saying, it just wasn’t the time.  She’s just mad about Robert and his cheating.  I guess it has been building up since the last time you were here. She found a female’s shirt in his trunk, and then there are the girls who have been showing up on their door acting a fool.  It’s beyond ridiculous, and you haven’t been around.  It may just be everything all at once.  I’m not trying to accuse you of not being a good friend, but you have your moments where you just fall off the map.  No one can get into contact with you when you are in that mood.”

“So, you’re saying it’s my fault? That she’s justified in snapping at me like that? For real? Shit, I’m sorry that I’m trying to keep my life together. I’m tired; sometimes I need a minute to myself.  We all got issues, and how dare y’all think that your issues should be more important to me than mine? Shit, when’s the last time, you asked me what was bothering me? Or flew out to see me? Dropped everything to come running when I’m feeling down? Nevermind. Forget it. It’s been time for me to leave.” With that, I pull up to her house without another word.  Hugging me as she gets out, “Let me know when you get home, ok?”  I watch her close the door behind her and pull off.

I can’t believe they expect me to be everywhere at once.  Contrary to popular belief, I’m not superwoman. Hell, I’m barely keeping my shit together.  How can I keep everyone elses’ together too?  Ignoring Tasha’s call, I turn up my radio.  I don’t feel like dealing with her right now. Two calls later, I pause my music, and answer with “Yes, Tasha?” “Girl….I’m just tripping. Rob’s got me stressing and his bitches is out of control. I knew what you were staying, and I feel that, cuz I’d be pissed if someone broke my shit.  Catch up with you tomorrow? Lunch or something? Just text me; I know you got a lot of shit to do since you are back.   But I do need to see you tomorrow because we need to talk- to REALLY catch up. I know you got shit you’re dealing with, and you haven’t opened up since Diondre. I know! How about we hit the magnificent mile, and grab lunch at the spa? We haven’t had a girls day out in FOREVER!!!” Smiling I say “I’d like that, but Tasha I don’t want to talk about Diondre. Everything is cool. He’s not a part of my life anymore, and I don’t want to discuss it. Ok?”  “I guess. Text me when you get up girl. Love ya!” We disconnect, as I pull up to my condo.

I greet the doorman as I enter the building and pause for a picture.  Don’t get me wrong, I love my fans, and I’m very grateful for the love.  It’s just that sometimes I want to be just Alexia.  I want to be able to shop for a birthday present without being interrupted a thousand times, or to be able to use a bathroom without getting rushed as I’m trying to wash my hands. Pressing the elevator to my floor, I hear Jagged Edge’s “True Man” playing.  Humming along, the doors open and I walk into my place.  My place is uniquely me.  High ceilings, breathtaking view of the skyline, and a spacious kitchen definitely remind me of how I miss this place.  Each room has a distinct vibe; retro, classy chic, modern, and even an Egyptian inspired one.  Sinking into my bed’s cushions, I fall asleep…

Once again my eyes target the doors, Where are my girls? They KNOW I hate waiting… I wonder why they are so late, but then again they’re always late so I’m not completely surprised.  As I lean back into the worn leather booth, the waitress hurriedly says “u havin anotha tea? iz busy so i cant keep runnin back ova here if u aint havin nuffin.”  I respond with “of course I am. Another long island, please”.

By this time it’s 11:20pm, and my girls have officially gotten on my nerves. I mean, I’m used to them being 10 or 15 minutes late- but 45? That goes WAAAAAAAAAAY beyond C.P. time, I mean not even if all the slow drivers in Chicago ambushed them at the same time would they be that late! Ugh! Right as I’m pulling out my Blackberry to start sending the “Where the hell are you” texts, the waitress brings me the long island, and I force myself to take a sip.  I’m not usually a drinker but hell it’s been a rough couple of months. Between work, family, ex’s, and my friends’ drama, I KNOW I deserve a break.

I’m observing the club, as I feel the glass sweating in my hands. This place is one of my favorites; everytime I’m home I beeline straight for this jazz club. I mean… It took me forever to find a place like this. With the 1920/1940’s vibe, real laid back, live band-sometimes its soul or r & b, but it’s mostly cool jazz.  I gaze longingly at the microphone, “one day” I reassure myself.

“why don’t you grace the mic” in a smooth baritone that sounds all too familiar. I continue to sip my tea and wonder if I simply don’t speak…if he will get the hint to just leave.  “It’s been a long time Lexi” the baritone whispers.  Once again I glance to the doors, praying that my girls are going to walk in and save me from this…. I mean, I knew eventually I would have to see him again, but why? Why now? I just wanted to have a nice, quiet dinner and catch up with my girls. I’m never in Chi anymore, and honestly I just missed being able to hop on south shore and walk the lake.  I wanted to clear my mind, figure out what my next step-”Lexi? Come on Lexi, please don’t be like that” slices through my thoughts.

Once again I take a sip of my tea, and I can feel the his carmel eyes on my lips as they wrap around the straw.   Sometimes I swear men are too predictable. We both knew that he wanted to know why I haven’t been returning his calls or why I didn’t tell him that I was in town.

How could he not know that we had changed… he changed…or maybe it was me who changed? I don’t really know, and I’m not sure that I really care. I mean the sex was great and the conversation was even better. I guess I just got caught up in the moment… in the dreams that I thought he was selling. But I knew from the beginning that it could never work… He was in Chi…and I traveled too much to really be anywhere. So we made it a sometimes thing, and I know it’s not his fault that I began to look forward to his calls or the conversation.

But how could he not know? I mean… nevermind I don’t know what I mean. “Lexi, you’re going to have to talk to me sometime…. We need to talk about this… about…” the baritone barks. I can hear the cushions groan as he plopps into the seat across from me. As my slanted green eyes meet his carmel ones… a shiver slides down to the small of my back. I’m not ready for this…. Quickly I stand up, and I bolt toward the door. The waitress snaps “I know you aint leavin here widout payin…” So I grab the first bill I see in my purse and place it on the bar for Joe.  Joe knows to keep the change, and I’m sure he’ll tip the waitress appropriately.

A burst of cold windy city air hits me as I bust through the front door. I swear I’m not going to forgive my girls for this… I should have known it was a set up. They’ve been trying to get me to talk to him for months.  The shrill “beep, beep” of my Mercedes car alarm sounds in the distance, and the engine starts.

“Ahhh” as I exhale. I’m almost there, then… I’m headed straight for the Lake. Yes… I’m going to my spot. I just need some time to think. I quickly pull out of the parking lot and make a right. Jill Scott’s sultry voice follows out of my windows.  Speeding down south shore, singing along with Ms. Scott. One day… I reassure myself. One day.

I whip my baby into the first parking space I see… grab my purse and break for my favorite spot on the Lake’s shore. Cool midst from the lake caress my face and hair, and the weight on my heart and mind dissipate. Just the isolated waves rebelling against the shore and the sounds scribbles against paper can be heard.  Finally… Just me and air. I can finally breathe….

fingers gripping my shoulders break my concentration. I whip my head around to see who dares to disturb me at MY SPOT…..

(for those who are waiting for the next part to Lexi…here it is…)

“Excuse me miss but aren’t you Alexia Marx? I don’t mean to bother you, but I was wondering if you would take a picture with me?” Slowly I shake my head, I don’t know who I thought it was going to be; I swear I’m just on edge these days. Standing up, I take in the sight of this fan; he can’t be more than 16, wearing baggy clothes and shoes that have more colors than skittles, around 5′10, medium complexion with zig zag braids.  His friend is shorter probably 5′6-5′7, dark skinned, wearing similar shoes and clothes, some large purple sunglasses, and what looks like the beginnings of locks.  I guess the P.R. department wasn’t lying when they said I have a fan-base that includes people from all walks and genres. Mentally I shrug my shoulders as I pose for his camera phone; I’m just happy that he’s reading a book.  “Thank you babygirl!! You is fine as hell…. I bet them older cats can’t do it like me… I can make you scream in your falsetto” he declares.  As he begins to list all the things he can do, I quickly cut him off…. “Somehow I believe that you have a young lady that you are involved with, am I wrong? While I appreciate a compliment from such a handsome young man, I don’t do relationships with minors. I bet you will make some young lady very happy, just make sure that whatever happens….it’s safe” with a wink.

He smiles and mumbles to his friend “see… I told you it was her…and she’s cool as hell. tried to play me but it’s aight, cuz this pic bout to be my profile picture on facebook.” With that both young men wander into the distance leaving me to just my pen, paper, and the lake.

Whooooosh as I exhale slowly; finally! I can have a minute to just breathe.  Casually I begin to write in my notepad; this poor notepad.  The cover is missing, the wiring is coming undone, and the back cover is faded and has random doodles.  This notepad has been my most trusted friend over the years; it’s survived 3 ex bestfriends, countless moves, and plenty of tears.  Somehow I always find comfort in knowing that what I write in it is unedited me. My thoughts- the good, ugly, whatever my random mind can come up with finds a home in this pad.

I’ve always loved writing, and I believe it’s always loved me just as much.  I guess that’s why I started writing lyrics for other artists in the music industry.  My girl Claire always said that I have a knack for honing into what other people are feeling and writing about it. Claire… I wonder how she is doing. I remember when we first met.  I know it’s cliche to say that your sorority sister is one of your best friends…but we instantly clicked when we met.  We definitely are kindred souls, she’s like my twin…if I ever had one.

Funny and determined, Claire has been my elusive twin for about six years now.  I’m saying elusive loosely.  Despite the frequent hospital visits and other trials, she’s managed to start her own company called Exclusivity where she coordinates events for a highly exclusive clientele. Ever since I can remember she’s been planning events, I can remember her planning my birthdays even when I didn’t want it planned.  Exclusivity is doing very well, and I heard she’s planning Diddy’s annual All White Affair this year.  I still can’t believe that she’s married, not that I’m saying no man would want her. I mean she’s 5′7, medium carmel complexion, hair that curls down her back. If you add that she’s successful, good fashion sense, and a figure that dips and curves in all the right places, you’d know I wasn’t implying she couldn’t get a man. I just keep thinking about the losers before Charles.  No one expected that she would run into the man that would become such a crucial piece to her life in a grocery store, let alone the dog food aisle.  Yet here it is 3 years later, and they are still in love and fighting to keep their marriage together.

My blackberry startles me by blaring “I got 999 men knocking down my door, cuz I’m the juiciest baby girl around”. I grab my blackberry and hurriedly press talk.  “Yea? What’s up Tasha?”  She giggles into the phone… “How was your night Lexi?”  Just in case I didn’t know she set me up, I definitely know now. “Look Tasha, I’m going to call you later”.  “Aww girl don’t be like that! You know that man is seeeeeeeeeeexy, and he’s been trying to talk to you for months. You won’t even give him a chance, what’s up with that?” “Ugh Tasha, I thought I said I just wanted a chill night with my girls, but look… I’m going to call you later”. “Lexi, it’s Damali! girl… where are you? I’m hungry, meet us at Billy’s. See you in fifteen, bye!” before I could reply I heard my phone beep, signaling that she had hung up.

I swear she hasn’t changed, but that’s my girl. Pacing back to my car, my thoughts flow back to the man that captured a piece of me. Why hasn’t  he gotten the hint? He’s got another life- a child and a wife- and it just can’t work. I bet he thought I’d never find out about them. He covered his tracks so well; my last minute trips home never even fazed him.  His separate apartment so I’d never see reminders of his family, and the conversations. I TRUSTED him; I haven’t even told Tasha or my girls some of the things I told him.

Pain ripped through my body as I relived that day. I’d just gotten into his apartment from a much needed pampering and shopping session with my girls.  I was just starting dinner; it was his favorite smoked short ribs with steamed vegetables and little red potatoes.  I had just put the sweet tea and the cheesecake parfaits in the refrigerator, when the buzzer rang. Setting down the plates, I moved toward the intercom when someone started rapping on the front door.

“Hello, are you looking for someone?” I greeted the young woman standing on his straw “Welcome” mat. She looked like the models I had just met at the music awards.  Standing at 5′9 with flawless dark brown skin, slim figure, and a regal demeanor.  She yelled “Dre? I know you in here with this hoe. Bitch let me in.” With that she pushes the door in, and I restrain myself from pushing her out the door and slamming it in her face. Now I’m so confused. Who is she? How does she know Diondre? “You cooking for his deadbeat ass?” she screams as she gets in my face. I fight to keep my composure, hell I’m calm but I’m only going to be but a few more bitch’s or hoe’s.

Taking a breath, I respond “Diondre is not here right now, and honestly… we are both adults. I haven’t disrespected you yet, please do the same. Please take a seat, and explain what’s going on because I’m lost”.  She looks around, takes a sip of the iced tea I’ve set in front of her, and says “Don’t try to play me, you know I’m his wife.” After seeing all the color from my face puddle at my feet, she must have decided to have mercy because she got calm. Slowly she explained that they had a daughter together and had been married for about four months.  How he’d been acting strange lately, and how she had followed him to this apartment the other day. She told me how he promised never to break the family up, and that she just wanted to confront him about this other apartment. That she reacted out of shock hence the disrespectful behavior when she saw me.  She asked me to please send him home and quietly shut the door as she left.

I don’t know how I finished cooking dinner or set out the plates.  But I wrote him a note that simply said “Goodbye”and placed it next to his plate. With that I grabbed my weekend bag and the recent shopping bags, then jumped into the rental car. Speeding down the ryan, I didn’t slow til I got to the Penisula Hotels where I paid for the suite. I don’t even remember what the agent or the bellman looked like, just the darkened color of the pearl colored pillow shams soaking up the pooled tears.

But that was over two years ago, I’m definitely through with him. I thought as I pulled the door to Billy’s open. I spot my girl sitting in the booth in the corner by the window and as I hug my girls….my stomach growls.  Tasha starts laughing and point to the third bag on the table.  I guess I’m too predictable.

“Lexi, I KNOOOOOOOW you didn’t lose more weight! Girl… a few more pounds and you are going to look like Whitney after she lost it.” Damali screeches between fits of laughter. We start eating and catch up a little until Damali drops some news that catches even Tasha off guard…..