If You Don't Tell

It had gotten cooler since we'd first left her home, but Sakilah left my jacket in the car and walked to her apartment just as she had walked out of it; half-naked.

We entered her apartment and I welcomed the warmth. She walked to the back of her apartment again and I sat myself on her couch again.

"It's okay for you to turn on the TV. I'm just getting changed. It's hard to cook in a party dress." She shouted from her room.

I grabbed the remote, and began clicking through the channels. It didn't take her long to change. Before I'd even found a channel to settle on, she whizzed past me wearing a lacey t-shirt and female boxers. The hump I'd seen earlier on her backside was clearly more pronounced and infinitely more accessible.

I returned my focus towards the TV, refusing to be seduced by her rear. "You get comfortable with people really quickly." I said.

"I don't have anything to fear, do I? You're not some crazed stalker and I'm pretty sure you've seen a woman before."

"Yes, I've seen women, just not so much of them unless we were dating."

"Well, you're man enough to hold back those primal instincts." The pots and pans clanking in her kitchen awakened me from the daydream I'd been having since she came out half-dressed--again. "I'm making burgers. You're not a Vegan are you?"

"No."

"Good. Are fries okay too?"

"That sounds good. What perfume are you wearing, you smelled nice tonight."

"Why? Would you like to buy some for your girl?"

"Not particularly. I moonlight as a cross-dresser prostitute and wondered if it would bring in more business if I wore it."

"You'd make an ugly hooker. That goatee you're wearing is utterly horrible for a woman to have and your muscles are too big."

"I take it you know some?"

"Yeah, I hang out with the cross-dressing kind all the time. We were supposed to have a fun party tonight, but you ruined it. Close the shades. If they see you here, they may find your street corner and kick your ass."

I laughed harder than I had all week. "You're pretty good. I see you can keep up with me."

She walked out of the kitchen and looked at me with one hand on her hip and the other with a flailing spatula. "You'd be surprised how I can work my mouthpiece. I'm no rookie."

"You spit more innuendo than a lil' bit. Has anyone ever told you that?"

"Nope, they usually say I flirt too much."

"Same thing," I spouted as she walked back into the kitchen to finish cooking. I continued flipping through the channels.

She brought both of our plates out at the same time. After sitting them on her coffee table, she went back into the kitchen and brought out two wine coolers. We sat by each other as we ate, talking about high school, our friends and love lives. After we finished, she took our plates into the kitchen, grabbed our empty bottles and walked back out a few moments later.

"Ready for some desert?" She asked.

"I don't think I can eat any more. I'm stuffed." She came to where I sat, straddled me and began nibbling on my neck. "So," I whispered out, "was this dessert?"

"No, it's improvisation. If you wanted some dessert, I could let you have some of my brown sugar. All you have to do is want it." My leg began to tremble at the prospect of being inside her sugar.

"How about this," she whispered into my ear, "you don't have to ask, I'm not going to sleep with you. But I'll give you something that you can leave with and feel better about." She started grinding on me and I could feel her wetness through my pants.

"What?" I asked, genuinely concerned with what she was about to say next. My brain screamed 'Stop!', but Pedro bobbed up and down inside of my pants, begging for her to tell me my options. I wanted to listen to reason, but Pedro's argument was too damn convincing.

"I can either ride you with your clothes on, or I can give you a hand job." She opened a drawer on her coffee table and pulled out a bottle of lotion. "Or I can do both."

I was at a crossroad. I could do this and never tell anyone what had happened tonight or I could walk away. My body and brain clashed with thoughts and memories flowing through my brain. I wanted to be strong and walk away, but I couldn't. With Laela around, I could be strong for her. It was her love for me that kept me in line, but with her gone, I had no resolve of my own and all transgressions were just between me and the walls.

All along, I knew why I had called Sakilah. I secretly wanted her to seduce me tonight almost as much as she wanted to. I just pretended that I was strong enough to resist her, hoping that she made it through the façade and she had. The fantasies I had in the movie theatre returned as she stood up and slid down her boxers, revealing a hairless temple and a tattoo that warned me that she was 'slippery when wet' on the inside of her right thigh.

I hadn't said a word when she sat back down and began unzipping my pants and fondling Pedro with her tongue. "Do you want me to stop?"

"I--want--you."

"I want you, too. I want to feel you." She replied and stood up, never letting go of my manhood as Sakilah slid herself on me and began to ride.

I loved every second of her and after a few seconds, she began cooing. I had tuned everything out, simply focusing on how tight her love became as it grasped and massaged Pedro. My eyes rolled up into my head and Sakilah began whispering into my ear, asking my to come for her when the TV volume suddenly increased, causing the reporter to blurt out the word 'Statistic' louder than I'd ever heard it.

The word began reverberating through my head for the next ten seconds and I didn't know why, until I suddenly remembered what I said about why I had never cheated on Lae. "I didn't want to become a statistic." I mumbled to myself. I looked at Sakilah, her eyes were closed and her breasts still bobbed up and down while she still rode me. "Stop!" I shouted and pushed her off of me. "I gotta go. I have to go." I pulled my underwear and pants up and ran out of her apartment, grabbing my jacket on the way out.

"Quinton, I'm sorry!" She ran to the door, still bottomless and watched as I ran to the car and closed the front door behind me when she saw that I'd made it. I entered my car quickly, unable to get comfortable due to Pedro's nosiness. As I sat in the car, I noticed that Sakilah hadn't followed me and all of the lights in her apartment had been turned off. I drove away from Sakilah's apartment cursing myself for my weakness.

February 4th (Saturday)

"So wait, I wanna get this story straight. The girl with the ghetto name told you, not hinted, not inferred, not even suggested-- that she wanted you to hit it and you turned it down? Awww, what the fuck, Q? Tell me now if you're gay. I can take it. You take trips down the Hershey Highway every now and then, so what, we're brothers, I can deal with that. Even if this relationship with Laela is a façade, just let me know, dawg! Please just tell me that you don't receive!"

"Dre', why are you acting this shit happened to you! You weren't even there! Why are you acting like what I did was so fucking wrong?"

"Why wouldn't I act like that, Q! I live my life vicariously through you man! When you have sex, it's like me having sex and we need some new pussy dammit!"

"We need some new pussy? Sorry brother man, that's not my hang up, it's yours and I still don't get why you're upset." I tried being calm, but Dre wasn't trying to hear anything I said.

"I don't either, man. I forgot who I was talking to. You are so fuckin whooped that even if Laela told you she was with another man, you'd probably want to be with him too, just so y'all could stay together. What is it with you man? Is the pussy that great?"

"See, I wasn't gonna say anything when you were talking shit, but you just disrespected my relationship. I don't talk about none of your hoes, because that's what they are, hoes. A woman would know how to take care of her man in private, not suck his dick in front of company. But then again, what would you know about women? You can't even fucking keep one! You wouldn't even know what to do with one if you stopped trying to run bullshit game on each one of them. You lie and tell each one how you love them, but hell every time you meet one, she already has a fucking timer on her head, counting down until she expires and you're on to the next one. What, you can't get a girl without lying to her? That's the mark of a true man. Only punks gotta lie to get what they want. A real man would tell a woman what the deal is and if she goes for it, that's hustle. You spout so much bullshit about being a 'good black man', but you degrade and soil every woman you touch! Yeah, maybe I do like being with one woman for once in my life, but that's a sign of maturity, not weakness. I have my faults, just like everyone else and maybe I hang onto the ideal that Laela is the perfect woman, but until someone proves different, then that's what she'll be. I'm tired of this shit. I'll talk to you later." I slammed the phone down on the receiver even though it was a cordless, but it made me feel better.

It was still early in the morning and I hadn't even washed up yet. I didn't even know why I called Dre. I needed someone to talk to, to help me get rid of the guilt, but I should've known better than to reach out to him. I was ready to jump in the shower when the phone rang again.

"It's probably Dre calling back to apologize." I muttered to myself, but when I looked at the phone number on the caller ID display, I saw that it was Mrs. Glenn. "Hello?"

"Good morning, Quinton. How are things going with you?"

"Mrs. Glenn? Hello. I didn't know you had my home phone number."

She laughed. "We've had how many conversations and you still call me Mrs. Glenn? I'm Cheyenne and I didn't have your home number. I had to call the station to get it. I wasn't sure if you got the message I'd sent yesterday and I just wanted to make sure you had time tonight. I called you right before you left, Carmen told me that much, but you didn't pick up."

"Sorry--Cheyenne. My mother just taught me to respect my--other people in higher positions. And sorry about not picking up. I got the message, but at then end of the day I didn't feel like answering. If I would've known it was you, I would've dropped everything to talk."

"Nice save. Carmen told me that you had a smooth tongue and now I've heard it for myself. So will you have time?"

"Yeah, I have all the time in the world. I'm alone in the house and my fiancée won't be home until tomorrow afternoon. For today, I'm a bachelor so I use some extra work to help me get my mind of things. I could even get some extra work done if need be."

"Great, so I'll speak to you tonight a 7. Will you be at home or should I call you on your cell?"

"I'll be here; I just have some early errands to run."

"Well, I'll speak to you later, Mr. James."

I hung up with Cheyenne and jumped in the shower. I'd lied to her. The truth of the matter was that I didn't have a clue what I was going to do today, but I needed to get out of the house and I wasn't about to go to Dre's house. I didn't know what had happened to him last night to get on my case, but something we both needed was time to wind down.

In the shower, I thought about calling Mike, but I didn't care if he was home or not, the drive over to his house would do me some good. As soon as I threw on some jeans and a long sleeved t-shirt, I jumped into my Gray Altima and rode West Airport down all the way onto the on ramp for 59 North. After about twenty minutes on 59, I followed 610 South to 610 East and exited right before the Hobby exit.

Traffic was light for a Saturday morning, but it gave me a chance to just listen to the radio and drive. I pulled up to their duplex thirty-five minutes after I'd left the house, but Mike's brick colored Maxima was gone. I got out of the car and knocked on the front door just in case it was in the shop.

The chains and locks on the door rattled with a reminiscent charm and Simone opened the door. "Hey Quinton, long time no see!" Simone was still pretty, but the black rings staring to form under her eyes made her look tired, and her small frame appeared withered.

I kissed her on her eyebrow. "Are you okay? You look like you haven't eaten in days."

"I'm okay, just tired. I've been doing a lot with the baby and keeping the house clean. I really don't have time for anything else anymore. After work, I come home and take care of the family. Mike's been--um--busy too."

"Is that why we haven't heard from you? It's like you guys have fallen off the face of the planet. Is something wrong?"

"No, nothing's wrong." She tried to smile, but I could see it was forced. "If you're looking for Mike, he's not here. He went to help someone with their car. You know how he loves to tinker with them."

I looked over her Olds which was falling apart. "He likes to tinker alright." I thought to myself. "Well I guess I'll be--"

She grabbed my arm and pulled me into the house. Her exaggerated front began falling to pieces as she hugged me and cried on my shoulder. I held her and let her cry before helping her back up the stairs to her apartment.

When we made it into the apartment, I closed the door and directed her towards the couch where she collapsed. "I'm so sorry for crying on your shirt, I just don't know how much more I can take Quinton. I don't know how much longer I candothis!"

"Do what?" I knew exactly what she was talking about, but it was my responsibility to play dumb so that she wouldn't suspect that I knew anything.

"Quinton, I admire your loyalty, but I know about Star. I know that he's probably with her right now. I know that he's slept with her--on several occasions." She sobbed. "I even know that he doesn't even really love me and the only reason he even comes home is to visit his son."

I sat down on the couch next to her. The guilt I'd been feeling suddenly overwhelmed me and I began confessing everything I knew. I knew Mike had slept with Star before, but since he hadn't said anything recently, I thought it was over. I'd tried to cover for him before, but to me, this was unforgivable. This was his family and his priority. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you, but he asked me not to. It's like Lae confiding something in you and asking you not to tell me. I wanted to tell you, but I couldn't. It wasn't anything against you, he told me that it was a one time thing and it wasn't gong to happen anymore. I mean he's my boy and I believed him. I'm sorry Simone; I really am."

"I know Quinton. I know how honorable of a person you are and I was hoping that you'd rub off on him somehow. I know Mike is a good man, but I honestly don't know where we went wrong." She leaned on my shoulder and allowed her to cry on me until the baby began crying from another room. I felt awful when she told me how honorable I was and wished that it had never been said. "I'm sorry, Quinton, but I'm glad you were here. I thought I was going to go crazy. I thought about calling Lae for the last week, but I didn't want feel like hearing her say 'I toldja so'. Can you please just stay here with me for a while?" I nodded. She wiped the excess tears from her face and went to calm the baby down.

When she came back, she was bouncing MJ in her arm as he studied my face. "I don't think he recognizes me." I told Simone as MJ continued staring at me.

"Say hello to your God-daddy, MJ. Say hi, God-daddy." She waved his hand at me and I waved back. "Quinton, can you hold him while I fix him a bottle?"

I held my arms out and she placed him on my lap and she turned back around and went into the kitchen. While she was gone, I blew on MJ's belly and tickled his sides causing him to giggle uncontrollably. "Simone, how old is he now?"

"Seven months." She hollered back.

"Oh, you're the big seven," I said to MJ, still tickling him as I spoke. When Simone returned from the kitchen, I didn't see a bottle in her hand. "Where's the bottle?"

"I can't find any milk. It looks like we're all out." She sat on the couch next to me and pulled up her t-shirt and bra and exposed her right breast before placing it in MJ's mouth.

"Whoa, whoa!" I shouted. "You could've given me some warning!"

"You act like you've never seen a nipple before. Grow up; it's a part of life."

"Yeah, just not part of mine yet."

"Can you do me a favor then? Can you take me to the store so that I can pick up some milk and some other things for the baby?"

"No problem, just as long as you keep those things under wraps." I said, pointing at her breasts.

She laughed and the withered look on her face seemed to let up for only a brief moment. "I'll see what I can do."

After Simone washed her face and got the baby ready, I went down to my car to clean it up, while she took the car seat out of her Olds and put it into my Altima so that the baby could come with us. Since the store was only right down the street, it was a shorter drive than I'd expected.

We shopped for ten minutes, making sure the baby had everything he needed for the time being and by the time we'd gotten to the register, I'd volunteered to pay for everything. The cashier, a young black girl, looked at MJ, then Simone, and finally me before telling us the baby looked just like me. I smiled and didn't do anything to dispute her, then grabbed the bags with the baby's groceries and took them out to the car. On the way to the parking lot, Simone and I laughed about the cashier and her powers of perception.

We made it back to the house a few minutes after exiting the store. Immediately Simone took MJ's car seat back to her Olds, while I grabbed MJ and the groceries and headed upstairs through the unlocked front door.

I made it to the kitchen before my arms gave out and I dropped the baby's stuff all over the floor. I heard Simone trudging up the stairs behind me and handed MJ to her when she reached the top.

She took him from me and kissed me on the cheek.

"What was that for?" I asked.

"It was because you're you."

She walked past me and sat down on the couch. I closed her door and sat between her and the baby.

"So how's Lae? I haven't heard from her in a while."

"She went home this past Tuesday to be with her parents. She's homesick, but in a warped way. She went up north to be with her family, even though it's nice and warm down here--go figure."

"Yeah, that's your fiancée, stranger than strange. How are you guys doing? She didn't leave to get away from you, did she?"

"I hope not. I have a lot invested in us."

"What does that mean?"

"It means that I she's the one I want to be with and if she dumps her share, that's me, I'll be all alone."

"Well you won't be alone for too long. You're a good man."

"And you're a good woman. Especially to go through what you do. I couldn't take it."

"But that's all part of being a woman. I guess there are still sometimes when you have to lose a part of identity to be happy, especially when you're a black woman."

"I don't know how you do it, but you have a strength I will never have. Truth be told, I don't even know what I'd do if me and Lae fell out."

"You'll bounce back, just like you've always done and you'll find someone to love you just as equally."

"Yeah, but enough about theories, it's time for me to go. I have a few more things I want to take care of." I stood up off the couch and started walking to the door.

"Hey Quinton," I turned around to see what Simone wanted to say. "I don't know if you remember the last time we talked, but you asked me a question and I didn't answer."

I had no idea what she was talking about. "You lost me, Simone."

"Remember when you asked who the woman that I'd slept with was? Well, we got off the phone before you found out, but I promised to tell you, so I will. I just wanted to tell you that, well, the first woman I ever had sex with was a girl named April. We did it several times, even right before I got married. She's married now, to a lawyer, and they're swingers. They've asked me to join several times and I've turned them down each time. The reason I didn't tell you before was because I didn't want you to think I was that type of person. Besides, I think this life is my punishment for doing what I did before Mike and I were married. Now that you know, do you feel different about me?"