Fool, Stop Trippin' Read online

  Looking at my reflection, I can’t help but laugh. As much as I hate sleeping alone, it is nice to let it all hang out every once in a while. I wouldn’t dare dress like this if my boyfriend Kentee was spending the night. He likes to see me in thongs, teddies, or naked as the day I was born with my hair hanging freely about my shoulders, so he can play in it while we make love.

  I don’t mind his playing in my hair so much when we’re caught up in the moment, but the morning after it’s a bitch to tame. He likes to curl up behind me breathing on my neck and by morning my hair is a sweaty, tangled mess. Sometimes, when he’s riding me from behind, he holds on to my hair like reins, slapping my ass. He also has a tendency to sleep on my hair, holding me hostage until he rolls over. I tried to explain to him how much trouble I go through the next day, but he insisted he didn’t want to sleep next to Aunt Jemima.

  My vain self would wake up an extra half hour early just to bump the knots out of my hair and to put on some fresh makeup. Yes, it was a pain in the ass, but I love Kentee so much, it’s a small sacrifice to make.

  We have been together for almost three years and although our relationship is rocky right now, I have no doubt we will get it together soon. Sooner or later he’ll realize I am the only woman for him. Until then, I’ll patiently bide my time. Turning away from the mirror, I get in bed and switch on the lamp.

  His side of the bed looks so empty. When Kentee first bought a house, I thought we would live in it happily ever after. We even got married, but that didn’t last long. Kentee came home one day mad as hell. He said Leah tricked him into believing that she had divorced him when in fact she hadn’t, making our marriage null and void. He moved out shortly afterward because he said he didn’t want to live with me in sin. Any other man would have said to hell with that, but Kentee isn’t just any old man. Unfortunately, he had to sell his house because he could not afford to pay the mortgage, child support, and rent at his new apartment. So now I’m living in a two-bedroom apartment instead of a four-bedroom house.

  Over the course of the last two years, I’ve nearly forgotten my own treachery. Nobody, not even Kentee, knew that I lied about being pregnant so he would marry me, and I intend to keep it that way. Soon, we will get over our rough spots and we will be back together again like it was in the beginning. Satisfied, I turn my attention to the book I have clutched to my chest, losing myself in a fictional world more interesting than my own life. I know I’m using this book as a crutch so I won’t have to deal with the fact that I’ve lost my job but I make a promise to myself to start looking for another one…tomorrow.

  I wake with a start, feeling more scared than I’ve ever felt in my life. My heart is beating very fast and I am cold as ice. Pulling the covers up to my neck, I try to calm down as my eyes adjust to the darkness.

  “When did I turn out the light?”

  Oh great, now I am talking to myself and expecting answers. I have to go to the bathroom, but I am afraid to leave my bed. I lie there until I can’t stand it anymore. Rushing from the bed, I run into the adjoining bathroom. In my haste, I bang my toe on the edge of the footboard.

  “Shit, piss, and corruption.” I hop to the toilet grabbing my toe with one hand and swatting away tears with the other. Rocking back and forth, I try to rub the pain away. I’m still frightened, but I need to look at my toe to make sure the nail isn’t bleeding. I hobble to the sink and turn on the light, but I can’t make my eyes open. I imagine something or someone is staring back at me.

  “Oh, Lawd, this is getting ridiculous.” Peeping, I look at my toe first and a deep sigh escapes my lips. Slowly raising my eyes, I force myself to look in the mirror. “What were you expecting, a shrunken head or something?” My eyes are open so wide, it would be comical if I wasn’t so scared. Still cold as the inside of a freezer, I am relieved to find myself alone.

  Briefly, I think about crawling in bed with Lasonji like I used to do with Momma when I’d had a bad dream, but I quickly dismiss the thought. She would never let me forget it and it would open the door for more of her Voodoo shit. Nope, I will have to deal with this paranoia myself. Turning out the light, I run back to bed, this time mindful of the footboard.

  I can’t get warm. I light a cigarette, inhaling deeply. Smoking usually calms me but so far it’s not working. I can’t shake the feeling that I’m being watched.

  It has to be all that talk of Voodoo and the whispers of the past that has me spooked. There is no other excuse for it. I try to remember what my dream was about, but I can’t fathom what could possibly make me shake like this. I close my eyes to paint a picture of tranquility, but the canvas remains black and surreal. One thing is crystal clear; there will be no more sleeping tonight, that’s for damn sure.

  I roll over to look at the clock. It is after three in the morning and I’m wide awake. I wonder what Kentee is into. Before I can talk myself out of it, I dial his cell. If I can engage him in some phone sex, I know I will fall back to sleep. And, if he decides to come over, that will be even better.

  “Shit.” I hang up the phone. Why the hell are his calls going directly to voice mail? The jealous bitch in me is also awake. He only turns his phone off when he’s getting busy and doesn’t want to be disturbed. I try to block these unwanted thoughts from my head to no avail. Now, I’m mad, scared, and horny. Not a good place to be alone. I can’t do anything about being scared, but I could ease the horniness.

  I pull out my trusty rabbit and turn it on high. I put it between my legs and rest it on my clit to allow it to lubricate my pussy. Moaning softly, I close my eyes and pretend my lover is not operated by Energizer batteries. I use my free right hand to gently massage my left breast. My nipple is hard as a pebble, but this isn’t enough. I pinch my nipple while moving my hips in a circular motion, pushing the rabbit between my vaginal lips. I push my nipple into my mouth, sucking gently at first and harder as the intensity of my climax builds. My clit is twitching as the walls of my pussy start to quiver. My nipple slides out as I suck my index finger, pretending it is Kentee’s dick. I push the rabbit in farther, but something is still missing.

  I stick my wet finger in my ass. It is tight at first, but slowly my probing finger slides inside. I’m on the verge, but I’m not ready for it to be over. I turn the vibrator to the lowest setting and lie still. My pussy clenches it freeing my hands to wander. My clit is still twitching, but not as fast. My breathing is quick and shallow. I push my finger in deeper. My asshole closes, trapping my finger inside as I rub my thumb against my clit. This feeling is so intense I have to kick the rabbit back into high gear to keep up with my own growing demands.

  I don’t even bother to stifle the moans that bubble out of my mouth as I match pace with my mechanical lover. My knees begin to tremble as my clit pushes against my thumb and my ass sucks my finger in deeper. I put in another finger just as I start to cum. The vibrator is warm and sticky. I cry out in relief as I turn it off. A smile replaces my earlier frown, erasing away the fear and my chills. Sleep claims me once again.

  Tarcia

  Kentee and I are having a romantic dinner at Copeland’s in Buckhead. I’m sippin’ my second Smoking Iced Tea and he is nursing a Heineken. We stare into each other’s eyes and if I didn’t know better, I would swear he is about to cry.

  “Baby, I love you so much.”

  “I love you too.”

  “I know things have been rough for the past few months, but I promise I am going to make things right between us ’cause I can’t stand the thought of losing you.”

  “I’m not going anywhere, sweetheart.” I place my hand on his cheek and he grabs it, kissing each of my fingers. Inside, I am melting. Kentee doesn’t show this side of himself often and I want nothing to spoil the moment.

  The waiter comes to ask if we need anything further and we both wave him away without taking our eyes off each other.

  “Now that I am working again, we can start saving up for another house and this time, we won’t let anyone else get i
n the way.” These are the words I had been waiting to hear for the past three years as we played at being in a relationship.

  “Now that my divorce is final, I don’t see why we can’t just start the rest of our lives right now. What do you say?”

  What does he expect me to say? Of course I’m going to say yes—I have invested too much time in this relationship to let it go now that he is finally starting to act right.

  As much as I want to scream out my answer, I have to go to the bathroom first. The sexy black velvet jumpsuit I’m wearing takes some time to get out of and I have already waited too long as it is.

  “Hold that thought, baby, I have to visit the little girls’ room.” I bolt from the table, nearly colliding with our waiter who appears to be hovering nearby.

  I rush to the bathroom, grabbing at my zipper as soon as the door closes behind me. I’m bent over and hopping from foot to foot, trying not to wet myself in the process. Whoever made these outfits really should have put a zipper in between the legs for quick access in case of emergency. Finally free, I plop down on the toilet without bothering to cover the seat. Ahhh…but my relief is short lived as I feel the warm piss run down my legs instead of in the toilet…

  “What the hell?”

  My eyes pop open. I’m not in Copelands. I’m still in bed and to make matters worse, I’ve just pissed on myself. I jump out of the bed, shaking my head in disgust, as I snatch my wet clothes off and throw them in the tub. I grab the sheets and toss them in as well.

  “Shit.” I don’t know what is worse, finding out that the dinner with Kentee was only a dream or peeing in the bed. Is this an omen or sign from God that I’m pissing my life away with Kentee?

  “Crap. It’s just crap. I don’t believe in mumbo jumbo.” Turning on the shower I step into the stall, I try to forget both the dream and my mistake, but the dream sticks with me as I get dressed.

  “I think a cup of coffee and a smoke will do me good right about now.” I grab a cigarette off my nightstand and go to the kitchen to put the water on, but Lasonji has beaten me to the kitchen.

  “Good morning, cuz.”

  “What’s so good about it?”

  “My, my, my. Aren’t we grouchy this morning?”

  “Shut up, Lasonji, you know I don’t like to talk before I’ve had my coffee.”

  “Excuse me…,” she mutters something else under her breath.

  “What did you just call me?”

  “I didn’t say anything. I was just clearing my throat.”

  I roll my eyes at her, pretending I didn’t hear her call me a bitch. I’m not used to her being in my house and I’m not adjusting fast enough. I go to retrieve my paper but it isn’t outside, which adds to my frustration.

  “Shit.” I slam the door and start fixing my coffee. Lasonji looks up at me, but doesn’t comment on my obvious bad mood. She continues to sip from her cup and read the—.

  “Is that my paper?”

  “Huh? Oh, yeah, I guess it is.” She pushes the paper toward me with a shrug.

  “How many times do I have to tell you to leave my damn paper alone until I finish with it.” I slam my cup on the table, pushing the paper back toward her.

  “What are you talking about? You have never said anything to me about touching your damn paper. I just got here yesterday. The last time I saw you, you were reading a magazine, not the damn paper.”

  “Uh…well, I’ll forgive you this time, but please don’t ever touch my paper until I finish with it.” That was Kentee I told to leave my paper alone, not Lasonji. Damn, should I apologize? Hell to the naw!

  “Girl, get a grip. Your ass is trippin’ about a fifty-cent paper. Let me get my purse. I’ll pay you for the damn paper.”

  “It ain’t about the paper, Lasonji. It’s about respecting my wishes, damn it.” I smack the table for emphasis.

  “Geez, it ain’t that serious.”

  “To me, it is.”

  “Fine, I won’t touch your damn paper no mo’. Is there anything else that’s off limits to me?”

  I’m being silly and I know it, but I’m not in the mood, and her back talk isn’t making it any easier.

  “Not at the moment, but if I think of anything, you will be the first to know.” I give her my best fake plastic smile as she stalks off to her room.

  “I’m not the one who peed in your coffee,” she quips as she slams her bedroom door. Relieved that she has left me alone, it takes me a few moments to realize what she just said to me, causing me to stop drinking in mid-swallow.

  “Pee?” I lower my cup, expecting to see large clumps of milk in my coffee again, but I don’t. I swallow, but for some reason, the coffee has a bitter aftertaste that I didn’t notice before. Rising from my chair, I pour the remains in the sink. The hairs on the back of my neck are standing up as I throw the milk and the remaining coffee in the trash.

  “Enough of this shit, I’ll pick up some more at the store later when I go out.”

  Tarcia

  Grabbing my paper, I start to go to my room to sulk. Lasonji has her television turned up very loud. Suppressing the urge to tell her to turn that shit down, I am struck with a blinding vision of clarity.

  Why am I mad at her? She didn’t do anything. I pause outside her door. Hesitating, I knock twice, but she doesn’t answer. I knock a third time and she turns down the television.

  “I’m sorry.” I wait outside the door, unsure whether she is going to accept my apology. She makes me wait for a few more seconds before she opens her door. I raise my arms for a hug, but she ignores me and sits on her bed. I take this as an invitation to come in. She doesn’t say anything and for a minute I don’t either.

  “So what are your plans for today?”

  She keeps changing channels as if she doesn’t hear me.

  “I said I was sorry.”

  “And that’s supposed to make it okay?”

  “What do you want from me? Do I have to get on my knees and kiss your feet?” I sit down on the foot of her bed staring at her feet.

  “Ain’t nobody asked you to kiss my feet, but I’m kinda liking that on-your-knees part.” Unsure whether she is joking, I toy with the idea for a hot second before deciding it isn’t worth the effort. I get up to leave with a big knot in my throat.

  “Just kidding,” she says. Relieved, I sink back down.

  “I am sorry. I’ve been depressed since I lost my job and I lashed out at you.”

  “So are you ready to talk about why you lost your job?”

  I shrug my shoulders, unsure where and how to begin and how much of the story I am ready to tell. I stare at the television as I think about why I’d lost the job I’d been working for the past five years.

  “I got into a fight,” I mumble.

  “A fight? You mean like fisticuffs?”

  “It was a verbal fight, but if my supervisor hadn’t been there, I would have snatched the hair right off that heifer’s head.”

  “You got into a fight with another woman? Why?”

  “That bitch ain’t no woman.”

  “Huh? You ain’t making sense.”

  “I got into a fight with my co-worker. It had been brewing from day one, and one day I lost it.”

  “Humph. You don’t let anybody come between you and your money.”

  “I know. It was stupid, now that I think about it, but at the time I wasn’t thinking. I was reacting.”

  “And they fired you on the spot? What about the other girl?”

  “They didn’t fire me right away. We were both sent home and told that they would notify us of their decision.”

  “And?”

  “They sent me a letter the day before yesterday telling me I was terminated.”

  “That’s cold; they didn’t even tell you to your face.”

  “Yeah, that’s what I was thinking. I worked for them for five years and they let me go just like that.”

  “Who was she?”

  “My boyfriend Kentee’s ex-wife.” />
  “Oh, this keeps on getting better and better. You worked with Kentee’s ex?”

  “I was there first. She should have left when she found out who I was.”

  “Why would she do that? In case you don’t know, the job market is tough. What does Kentee have to say about this?”

  “I haven’t told him yet.”

  “Why, you mad at him too?” I am getting annoyed. Lasonji’s tone is condescending, so I get defensive.

  “No, I ain’t mad at him; it ain’t his fault. It’s that bitch’s fault.” I jump up and pace around the room. Walking from one corner of the room to the other, I feel the walls closing in on me.

  “Sit down, girl. Let’s talk about this like adults ’cause you can’t go around with all this anger pent up inside.” Lasonji leaves the room and comes back with two coffee mugs. I eye the cups suspiciously since I’d just thrown away all the coffee.

  “What’s this?”

  “Mint tea. It cleanses the spirit and gives clarity to your thoughts.”

  “Oh, Lawd, here we go.”

  “What? Wait, you’re just trying to change the subject. Take the damn tea, girl.” I take the cup, but I don’t sip it until I see her drinking hers.

  “Mmm, this isn’t bad.” I can’t remember the last time I drank anything warm other than coffee.

  “Stop stalling and get back to the story.”

  “She started working there while I was on my honeymoon. I didn’t know who she was at the time, but I didn’t like her ass right from the beginning.”

  “Why is that?”

  “’Cause she’s one of them high-yella girls that acts like her shit smells like peppermint.”

  “Umph.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “Oh, nothing, I was just clearing my throat.”