A Rich Man's Baby. Daaimah S. Poole
I was getting angry at Kyle. Damn. If nothing else, I thought we were friends.
Three days later, he was still not answering my telephone calls. I realized he had stayed with me for weeks and hadn’t brought anything but his dick into my apartment. I got used. However, I still needed answers—clarity, closure, comfort. It couldn’t be over just like that, no rhyme or reason. I was missing him so much, I didn’t know what to think.
I was really trying not to go up to the gym. If I did, I couldn’t guarantee that I wouldn’t act like a fool. I didn’t know what was going on with me or him. I think I got caught up in his pillow talk. It was real deep. I was still waiting for my phone to chirp, letting me know I had a text message from him. I knew he wouldn’t be ducking me over four hundred dollars. I sat there and analyzed our entire relationship from beginning to end a few times and then decided to leave him one last message. I started to get scared, like I really might not ever talk to him again. I needed to get my mind right. I was crazy, I know. I ran water. I poured a few bubbles in it. I placed my foot in the hot water. I wanted to put my head under for being so dumb, but I sat back and relaxed.
Then I heard my phone chirp. I jumped out of the bath without a towel, almost slipping. I prayed as I looked at my message. It was him. Thank you. And then I read the message:
I JUST CAN’T DO THIS ANYMORE. WE ARE MOVING TOO FAST.
I wanted to throw my phone. I reread it to make sure I had seen it right. He couldn’t do what anymore? Come over to my house and eat my food, drive my car, borrow money from me? Yeah, that is a real chore to do. I was angry. He broke up with me by text message. That was so damn funny. Here it was I couldn’t think and had been going crazy the last couple of days worried about him. He ended our love affair by a goddamn text message.
I called him back and he didn’t answer. So I texted him back:
DON’T TEXT ME, TALK TO ME.
He didn’t respond and that was it. Kyle and I were over, and I needed to find a new gym.
Chapter 6
Dionne
My bar review class was intense. They were going over everything I had learned over the last three years. The test was at the end of July, and it was two days of testing: one day for an essay and the other for multiple-choice questions. The scary part was that I wouldn’t get my results back until October after I started work. If I failed now, I couldn’t take it again until February.
My sister said she wanted me to come to meet her for lunch. Lunch with Camille meant that she wanted to talk about her love life. I couldn’t envision why it was so hard for her to find a man. I mean, I was juggling two! Everyone I went to school with was either engaged or married. She must have been doing something wrong, because there were men out there. She went to the gym three times a week and was beautiful. She was tall and lean with cute brown eyes. She had a great job as an event organizer for the art museum and a few degrees. She was the artsy type. I think her problem was just she was too picky. A man is not that hard to find.
I let the hostesses seat me at the table. While waiting for Camille, I ordered a Cobb salad with vinaigrette dressing.
Camille finally arrived. She wore her hair pulled back so that I could get a view of her large diamond studs her last good boyfriend gave her three years ago.
“Hey.”
She looked like she was sick. “Camille, what’s wrong?” I asked.
“Oh, nothing. I just got stood up again last night. I guess I’ll just cuddle my accomplishments,” she said sadly.
“It is not that hard. Just stop being so judgmental and lower your standards a bit, and you will find a good man.”
“My standards are not too high. You would say that. Let’s see, you have a consultant as a boyfriend and a pro ballplayer on the side. And you want me to date anybody? I don’t think so.”
“I’m not saying date anybody. I’m just saying be open. What happened to the guy that Mommy wanted you to meet?”
“He installs cable all day. He can’t pay for anything. I don’t want to talk about it. I’m just not going on any more pity dates.”
“Pity dates,” I said as I laughed.
“Don’t laugh. You don’t know what it is like to be out here on this terrible dating scene. I have three degrees, Dionne. Why can’t these men get one? Huh? I’m not required to talk to subpar men. If a man is broke, he can’t afford to be in love. I can’t take any more men who haven’t been anywhere. The last guy I went out with didn’t know the difference between a Chardonnay and a Cabernet Sauvignon. I can’t teach a man how to have class. So from now on, I’m not dealing with them.”
I almost spit out my salad. “You are insane. You should have your own reality show.”
“I’m not insane. I’m just not talking to a man who is less successful and has the same amount as I do.”
“You could miss out on a great guy.”
“If the great guy does not make six figures, he can keep going. I have my own money. I’m done ranting. Fuck men! I don’t know why you got me started.”
“I got you started?”
“Yes, anyway, I just wanted to know if you were participating in Mommy and Daddy’s thirtieth wedding anniversary.”
“I’m going to be a part of it, but I don’t have the time to help.”
“And what does that mean?”
“It means that I’ll contribute. Just don’t expect me to run around. I’m showing up, and that’s it. Because I have to study and pass the bar.”
My parents’ anniversary party was held in a big hall. I was sitting at the table with Camille and Terrance. I smiled as I looked over at the poster-size picture of my parents’ wedding photo. My mom had a bunch of blue eye shadow on and a fluffy big Afro, and my father had long, thick sideburns and all of his hair. They looked the same now, just an older version of that young couple. Everyone ate, drank, and reminisced with them. A lot of people came up to them to take pictures and ask for advice. They danced to their wedding song by the Stylistics, “You Are Everything.”
When dessert was being brought out, Terrance tapped me and said that he would be right back. I was ready to go home. I was done with this whole party, and my feet were killing me. My father stood up in his navy suit. He asked everyone to be quiet.
Camille looked over at me, and asked, “What is Daddy about to say?”
“I guess it is over and he wants to thank everyone for coming out.”
My dad tapped the microphone to get everyone’s attention and said, “Everything tonight is about me and my wife and the blessing that God bestowed upon us thirty years ago. But tonight is also about new love as well as the old. Come up here, Dionne.”
I stood up real quick and sat back down. I didn’t know what my dad was up to. I hoped he wasn’t about to announce that I had graduated from law school. But he kept going on and on about love and told me to come up to the front of ballroom with him. I walked to the stage with my dad, bewildered. I looked over at the door as the lights dimmed and Terrance came from the back with a spotlight and band following him. He reached me and dropped to one knee.
“Will you be my wife?” I looked at a teary-eyed Terrance as he waited for my response. I was surprised and shocked. I knew we were going to get married someday, but not now. The whole room was quiet. People were taking pictures and awaiting my response. I leaned into Terrance and hugged him and said yes. He held me as everyone began clapping. My dad was the loudest.
The rest of the evening well-wishers passed the table, congratulating us. It turned from my parents’ anniversary party to my engagement party. My wrist was hurting from holding my hand down, showing off my oval-shaped diamond ring. My ring was beautiful.