Finding Mrs. Wright Read online

  Pop said, “Your life ain’t been right since Natalie. I know that was hard for you, son, but that doesn’t mean you have to—”

  I stood up, scraping my chair across the kitchen floor. “I’m outta here.” Regina’s questions about my not wanting to be in a relationship had already brought up enough pain, that I didn’t need to hear that name right now.

  “Wait a minute, Devon.” My mother jumped up from the table.

  I calmed myself down a little, not wanting to disrespect my parents. “Mom and Pop—I appreciate you caring and I heard everything you said. I just . . .” I sunk back into my chair.

  I didn’t know what to say. I just what? I just want to be a single father with a crazy baby mama and a different woman in my bed every three months?

  My dad gave me one last look and got up from the table and walked slowly up the back steps to their bedroom. His walk was slow and tired, like me and all my troubles had worn him out. My mom patted my hand and then stood and leaned over to kiss my forehead. She picked up me and Pop’s cobbler bowls and carried them to the sink, humming some church hymn like she needed comfort from the pain my life was causing her.

  I sat there for a few minutes until I couldn’t any longer. I needed to get Brianna home. If I was honest, what I really needed was to get away from the overdose of truth that my parents had given me about my life.

  “Ma, I better go.”

  She nodded and dried her hands on a dishtowel. She followed me to the living room, where I scooped up a sleeping Brianna and put her over my shoulder. Mom brought Brianna’s book bag out to the car and helped me strap her into her booster seat. When she kissed me on the cheek, she looked like she wanted to say something to me but didn’t know what. She stood and watched me drive away until I was down the street from their house.

  As I drove home, I couldn’t shake the look in my dad’s eyes—like I was disappointing him or something. I knew he wanted me to be a church man and a family man like him. And I knew I would be that. One day.

  Screwing up with Shauntae had messed up my plans. I loved my daughter and couldn’t imagine her not being in my life, but my parents were right. This wasn’t the way I had planned to end up.

  My cell phone rang. It was Chuckie. After the talk with my parents, I could use a good laugh from him.

  “Wassup, Chuck man?”

  “You, dawg. You and Brianna doing homework?”

  “Naw, just heading home from my parents’ house. What’s going on?”

  “Just checking back to see if you wanted to go out with us Friday night. The comedy club, remember? It’s gonna be fun. Come on, man.” He sounded like a little kid asking me to take him to Six Flags or something.

  “Man, I can’t do couples night with y’all. I had to cut Regina loose last night. She broke the rules and showed up unannounced and uninvited. Remember?”

  “That’s cold, man. You gotta stop treating women that way.”

  “Whatever, Chuckie.” After my parents’ sermon, the last thing I needed was Atlanta’s most notorious player preaching to me with his newfound righteousness concerning women.

  “Anyway, it’s perfect. Tisha’s friend wanted to go but I didn’t think we’d have an extra ticket. She’s a nice girl, man. Real sweet like Tisha and she’s your type, too. Maybe this is what you need—to meet a nice girl and settle down.”

  “Please, I don’t need to hear all that right now. I just got the same lecture from my parents.”

  “See, dawg? Maybe God is trying to tell you something.”

  I had to laugh. “A’ight, Deacon Chuckie. You done met a girl and got religion now, huh? This Tisha must be fine. And the booty must be real good. They say them church girls are the real freaks. Is Tisha’s friend a church girl, too? Maybe I do need to meet her.”

  “It ain’t even like that, man.” Chuckie’s voice got louder and had some extra bass in it. “Tisha ain’t no freak and neither is her friend. I know what they say about church girls, but Tisha ain’t like that. She’s for real.”

  “Sorry, man. I wasn’t trying to insult your girl. Dang.”

  “You coming or not?” Chuckie sounded like he was ready to be through with me.

  “A’ight, man. I’ll be there.” If for no other reason, I had to see who this church girl was who had Charles Nelson, playboy extraordinaire, talking like he was ready to turn in his player card.

  Four

  After work on Friday, all I wanted to do was get some rest. Brianna and I had been up all night on Wednesday and Thursday finishing an art project that ended up taking way longer than I had anticipated. I wanted to drink a beer, watch a movie, and lie around the house. But I had promised to go to some stupid comedy club with Chuckie and his girl’s girl. I probably would have never agreed to go if he hadn’t been nagging me right behind my parents’ nagging.

  Now I was stuck spending the evening with a church chick. She was probably a hag. I could imagine her wearing some long skirt with her hair pulled back in a bun and no makeup on. She’d probably mention God every other sentence and I’d be stuck drinking Coke instead of a beer so I didn’t offend her Christianity. Or she could be one of those desperate, spooky-deep, super-spiritual women—the kind who would walk up to some poor dude and say some crazy stuff like, “God told me you were my husband.” Or maybe she was one of those church freaks who made you wonder if she even knew anything about Jesus.

  Whoever she was, I didn’t feel like being bothered.

  My cell phone rang. Of course it was Chuckie. Maybe if I sounded tired he would let me off the hook. Surely Tisha had another desperate single girlfriend he could give my ticket to.

  “What’s up, man?” I put on the most tired voice I could muster.

  “Don’t even try it, dawg. You don’t work that hard so you can’t be that tired. And you already said you was coming so I don’t want to hear it.”

  I laughed. It was hard to put anything over on my friend of fifteen years. Chuckie and I had pledged together our sophomore year at Morehouse and had been tight ever since. He already knew my lie before I could tell it.

  “A’ight, man,” I said. “But for real, I’m just coming to make you happy. I ain’t feeling no hookup. So I hope this ain’t no desperate church chick waiting for God to bring her a husband. ’Cause I ain’t the one.”

  “Dude, chill. Cassandra ain’t no desperate church chick. You better hope she even gives your big bucket head a second look. You ain’t all that, man. That’s your problem anyway.”

  “Shut up, Chuckie. I can’t help it that the ladies love me.”

  “I’m serious. I know you think you all that, but Cassandra is no joke. She’s really got it together. So you ain’t got to worry about her drooling all over you and dropping her panties like them chickenheads you usually deal with. She’s classy. Like Tisha.”

  “Tisha, Tisha, Tisha . . . I ain’t ever, since I’ve known you, heard you call one woman’s name so much. What’s really going on?”

  “You’ll see. Be there at seven-thirty.” He gave me the name of and directions for the place and we hung up.

  I changed from my work clothes into a pair of jeans and a blue linen shirt. I had gotten my fade tightened up a few days ago. I checked out my mustache and goatee in the mirror to make sure everything was straight. When I was a teenager, my mama used to tell me I was too good-looking for my own good and I had to be careful not to break too many hearts.

  It didn’t matter whether light-skinned or dark-skinned men were in. I was a nice shade of cocoa brown that never went out of fashion. At six one, I kept things steady at 220 pounds, but I was starting to notice that if I didn’t pay attention to what I ate, my abs weren’t as tight as I usually kept them. I didn’t know if that was because I didn’t exercise as much as I used to or because I was closer to forty than I was to thirty. I couldn’t play ball and hit the gym as much as I used to now that I had Daddy duty.

  I sprayed on some cologne and headed for the door for this “un-date” with a chur
ch girl, hoping I wouldn’t be bored out of my mind.

  When I arrived at the comedy club, I groaned when I saw the marquee. It was Christian comedy night. I was ready to kill Chuckie. If he wanted to become a church dude, that was fine for him, but I didn’t feel like being dragged into it.

  Since the spot wasn’t too big, it wasn’t hard to find them. It was a pretty nice place. It looked fairly new with lots of small tables and chairs gathered around a circular stage. The stage had a drum set and large speakers on it so I figured they must have had live music on nights when they weren’t having comedy. I crossed the club, squeezing between the people already seated in their chairs, thinking that the place must be breaking some fire codes with all those people pressed in there so tight.

  When I got to the table, Chuckie jumped up. “Devon. Wassup, man?”

  We gave a frat handshake and a man hug. He was all twitchy and grinning like a fool. I didn’t know why it had taken me so long to catch on that it was really important to him for me to meet this girl. Probably because he had never been gone over a woman before.

  “Devon, this is my girl, Tisha.”

  She held out her hand to shake mine, and I had to admit that she was jaw-dropping, mouth-watering, eye-bugging fine. She was tall and dark skinned with curves for days. She wore long, thick braids and had an exotic look to her that made me wonder if she was from somewhere else. Kinda like one of those African models. “Devon, nice to finally meet you. Charles has told me so much about you.” I had almost expected her to have an accent, but she was definitely American, with a tinge of New York or somewhere in the Northeast in her voice.

  “Nice to finally meet you, too.” I shook her hand. “Chuckie, I mean, Charles talks about you a lot as well.”

  Chuckie nodded hard, looking all stupid and sprung. “Have a seat, man. Cassandra’s running a little late but should be here any minute.”

  I sat down across from them at a table for four. “Uh, where’s AJ and Karen?”

  “Last-minute babysitter issues.” Chuckie rolled his eyes. “You know how y’all do.”

  I groaned inwardly. Two more people around to buffer would have made this less like a blind date. Now I was stuck with the church chick all by myself. I looked across the table at Tisha and Chuckie all hugged up and into each other. It was going to be a long evening.

  Tisha looked over my shoulder. “There she is.” She and Chuckie both stood up.

  I stood and turned around to see a serious piece of fineness. She was just as beautiful as her friend, but in a different way. She was about my shade of cocoa and had one of those short, sassy haircuts that required a sister to be in the beauty shop every week. She was as tall as Tisha and was slimmer but curvier.

  “Hey, Tish.” She walked up and hugged her girl, giving me a second to admire the goods. I was a butt man and she had a backside that looked like it was hand-crafted by God. When she let go, I quickly averted my eyes upward so neither she nor her girl would catch me staring. Chuckie watched me and laughed. Yeah, my boy knew me too well.

  Cassandra hugged him, too. “Charles, good to see you again. Thanks for the ticket.”

  “No problem.” He gestured toward me. “Um, this is my friend I told you would be meeting us. Devon Wright, this is Cassandra Parker.”

  She held out her hand. “Ah yes, the friend you’re not setting me up with. Good to meet you, Devon.”

  I shook her hand. “Good to meet you, too.”

  Her hand was soft and warm but her handshake was firm. Her eyes were bright and clear. All cheerful and happy like nothing bad had ever happened to her. She had big dimples etched in both cheeks as she smiled at me. I didn’t know whether she had on some really high heels or whether she was just that tall. I wasn’t used to a woman almost being on the same level as me.

  She was dressed in a pair of jeans that showed her curves nicely without being tight. She wore an orange, sleeveless turtleneck sweater that didn’t quite hug her breasts but definitely let a brother know they were there. Her look was tasteful and sexy at the same time. Shauntae could take a lesson or two from her.

  I stopped myself from staring at her. “Have a seat.” I pulled out the chair next to mine and waited until she was sitting before I took my own seat. We sat there for a few minutes in silence. Chuckie and Tisha had gone back into their private little world, leaving us to figure out what to say to each other.

  She looked over at me and smiled. “Relax, playa. For real, I’m not here for a hookup. Just wanted to get out and have some fun on a Friday night after a hard week at work. I’m here for some laughs. That’s all.”

  “A’ight. That works for me.” I wondered if she was wearing fake eyelashes. It didn’t look like it but, then, I had never seen anyone with lashes that long, either. “Gotta make some conversation though because these two don’t even realize we’re here.” I nodded toward Chuckie and Tisha.

  “I know.” She shook her head. “Your boy got my girl’s head all messed up.”

  I was about to say I had never seen my boy’s nose so wide open but I didn’t want Cassandra going back and telling Tisha, like women are prone to do. Not that it was a secret.

  She picked up a menu. “You hungry? I must have me some hot wings.”

  “I could eat.”

  She knocked on the table and held up a menu toward Chuckie and Tisha. “Hate to disturb you lovebirds, but you guys want to order something?”

  Tisha sat up and picked up a menu. “Sorry, girl. Yeah.”

  We waved the waitress over. I ordered some hot wings and a Coke. Cassandra looked up from her menu. “I’ll have a glass of white wine and some hot wings.”

  I raised an eyebrow.

  Cassandra said, “I know. It’s a ghetto combination but that’s what I’m feeling right now.”

  Dang, I coulda had a beer. Should have let the lady order first.

  As soon as the waitress left, Chuckie and Tisha went back to their little world. He was talking all close in her ear and she was giggling. Every once in a while, he would kiss her on the neck.

  “Ugh.” Cassandra rolled her eyes. “Get a room.” She looked me up and down with those big, pretty eyes of hers. “So, Devon, what’s a fine specimen of a man like yourself doing alone on a Friday night?”

  My eyes went big.

  “Chill, playa. I told you I’m not trying to push up on you. I’m just asking. You’re a good-looking dude, you haven’t tripped off my gaydar, and”—she looked down at my shoes—“you don’t appear to be broke. Why aren’t you all hugged up with your own honey, or better yet, at home with the wifey and kids?”

  Oh, so she wanted to play. “Same reason that a beautiful woman like yourself is on a non-date with me on a Friday night.”

  “Non-date?” She smiled. “I like that. But I hardly believe we’re here for the same reason.”

  I tilted my head to the side. “Oh. Why are you here then?”

  The corners of her mouth curved into a grin. “I asked you first.”

  I pressed my lips together for a second, trying to decide how seriously I wanted to play this game with her. She was attractive enough for the evening but I couldn’t get into anything with her. She was Chuckie’s girl’s girl and from the looks of things, Tisha might be around for a while. If things went south with me and Cassandra, she would go running to Tisha, who would go running to Chuckie. With the way he seemed to be all into Tisha and with the way he’d been preaching to me lately about my dealings with women, it could actually cause beef between us. Couldn’t chance it.

  Still, a little talking never hurt nothing. “I guess because I haven’t met anyone as beautiful as you in a long time.”

  She smirked. “Come on, playa. That’s lame. I know you can do better than that. Or are you one of those fine dudes with no game?”

  I had to chuckle. “I ain’t playing wit’ you tonight, girl. You trying to start trouble.”

  She giggled. “I’m here”—she nodded her head in Chuckie’s direction—“to ke
ep your boy out of trouble.”

  I frowned. “Huh?”

  “I’m Tisha’s accountability partner, so I’m here to make sure your boy act like he got some sense.”

  I sat forward in my chair. “I don’t get it.”

  The waitress walked up with our drinks. Cassandra’s glass was barely on the table when she picked it up and took a big swig of her wine. She looked over at my Coke. “I hope my drinking wine doesn’t offend you. Are you one of those Christians who doesn’t drink alcohol?”

  “No. No, not at all.” Wow, she thought I was a church dude.

  The lights dimmed and a skinny dude came out onto the stage in a polyester, powder-blue suit.

  Cassandra whistled. “Whoa! Can you say shiny?”

  The MC himself was pretty funny, pretending to be an old church deacon officiating over a church service. Reminded me of old Deacon Watson from the church I grew up in back in Memphis. Shiny suit and all.

  The first comedian was kinda lame. Cassandra heckled him and they went back and forth for a minute and she ended up getting more laughs than he did. The second comedian was real funny. But it was funnier watching Cassandra catch a case of the giggles. I thought she was going to fall out of her chair laughing. Every time she caught her breath, the guy would say something funny again and she’d be laughing harder.

  The third comedian was funny, but not as much as the guy before. By that time though, Cassandra was drunk with the giggles, which made her laugh at everything he said, which made the rest of us laugh at her and before I knew it, I had laughed until my side was ready to split.

  By the time the comedians were finished, Cassandra had laughed until she cried. She flipped out a mirror to see the black makeup marks streaking down her cheeks. “Oh, I’m looking crazy. Be right back.”

  I watched her walk away, her butt swaying in that way only a black woman’s behind can. And I felt that thing.

  See, here was my problem. Every time I broke up with a woman, I would swear off women for a while. The plan would be to wait until I got my head right. It wasn’t like I wanted to be single for the rest of my life. But after what happened to Natalie, the junk with Shauntae messed up everything and then it was woman after woman after woman. And I never got a chance to stop and get myself straight.