Chapter 22
Sasha
The last couple days had been awkward. Courtney and I were talking, and it was almost like normal behavior between us, but
there was something a little off. Something missing from our interactions. And I knew that was on me.
I was haunted by her complete lack of emotion at the end of our talk. Her being like, fine, whatever, it was like something in her just sort of clicked off. At least it felt that way. Like she was tired of always fighting
and had finally stopped trying. Stopped caring.
“I should have one battle I win.”
I’d been so pissed she’d said that, but then led us right into another one. Old habits were refusing to die. Why was I hanging
on so tightly to behaviors I now knew were so detrimental to everything I wanted? Maybe I did need to go to therapy.
I did ask for a lot. I always asked for a lot, and she gave, and she gave, and she gave. How long until there wasn’t anything
left? That thought made my breath catch.
I needed to fix it. Fix us. But I didn’t know how to do it in a way that kept me from feeling like the bad guy. Yet I was the bad guy because I wanted to be with my wife.
“I can’t be everything for you.”
Courtney’s statement popped back into my head, and I rolled my eyes at myself. This leopard needed to figure out how to change her damn spots.
“I didn’t think we’d be seeing you again so soon,” Denise said as she hung her purse on the back of the chair, pulling me
from my lamenting thoughts.
“We usually do brunch, right?”
“We do, but you know, you were a little pissy with us last time, so.” She let the rest of that hang with a shrug.
I rolled my eyes and nodded. Both she and Tanisha had really said some things that I hadn’t expected, and it was all a tornado
culminating inside me. Spinning me every which way, and I was steadily fighting against the wind. Doing things the hard way,
not seeking shelter. At the time I hadn’t wanted to acknowledge the truth of their words or sit with the discomfort they created.
And to be honest, some of the shit Denise had said especially still didn’t sit right with me, but knowing she saw us as transactional
would help me move accordingly going forward.
“Yes, well, I didn’t want you guys thinkin’ that, you know, I only ever hang out with y’all when there’s trouble at home.”
Denise just smacked her lips, adjusted in her chair without saying anything more, and picked up the menu.
“Can I get you something to drink?” the young waitress asked when she approached our table.
“Yes, I’ll take—” Denise paused and glanced at my drink. “What she’s having.”
I picked up my pomegranate mimosa and took a sip.
“Are you two ready to order?”
I shook my head. “We’re waiting on one more.”
The waitress nodded then walked off.
“Where is Nish? Can’t believe I beat her here,” Denise said.
I tapped the screen on my phone to check the time. Tanisha was running a little behind, which was unusual for her.
“Let me text her.” No sooner than I picked up my cell, I saw Nish weaving her way toward us.
“Sorry, sorry. Was on the phone with Momma and she just kept talking even though she said she wasn’t g’on hold me at least
three different times.”
“How’s she doin’?”
“Don’t know how to be old. Her ass is headed to Atlantic City with her friends.” She rolled her eyes in a dramatic fashion
as she sat. “Y’all order already?”
Tanisha’s mom wasn’t that old considering she’d had Nish at nineteen. They were more like friends than mother and daughter.
I remember thinking it weird the first time she’d come to the club, because my mother would never, but she was a cool lady,
tipped well. I was a little envious of their relationship.
“Just drinks,” I answered as the waitress returned with Denise’s mimosa.
“Ooh, what’s that?”
“A pomegranate mimosa,” Denise answered.
Tanisha looked at the waitress. “I’ll take one of those.”
The young waitress nodded. “Do y’all need a few more minutes before ordering?”
“Yes, if you don’t mind,” I said.
She bowed out and headed off to fulfill Tanisha’s drink order. They each started looking over the menu. I already knew what
I wanted, so I sipped on my drink while they made their selections.
“Is wifey back?” Denise asked from behind the plastic sheet.
“Yeah, she got back a couple days ago.”
“Oh really. Y’all good?”
I shrugged and took another sip of my drink. After my last conversation with my friends, I didn’t want this brunch to be just about me and Courtney and our relationship issues. But they had brought it up, so was it really me that was the problem this time around?
“Somethin’ like that. We talked and . . . we talked.”
Denise put down her menu, her face contorting into a frown. She crossed her arms on the table. “What the hell does that mean?
‘Something like that’? Either you good or you ain’t.”
I let out a heavy sigh. “Just what I said. She came home, we talked, and we’re figurin’ things out.” I paused for a moment
to decide if I wanted to share more . . . but they’d asked. “She thinks we were impulsive when we got together. Got married
too fast, and we need to learn to get to know each other, or somethin’ along those lines. But we’ve been together. We’re married,
we already know each other.” I finished off my drink just as the waitress returned.
We placed our food orders and I requested another drink. Once the waitress walked off, Tanisha did a little dance in her seat
after tasting her own mimosa, then pinned me with a serious stare.
“I mean, she’s not wrong though, Sasha. You left on a Tuesday and came back married on Thursday out the damn blue.”
I rolled my eyes. “Yes, I’m aware that our courtship was quick, but sometimes when you’re in love, when the time is right,
the time is right.”
Except for Courtney, the time had been right because I happened to be in the right place at the right time. Even though she’d
said that wasn’t the case, I still couldn’t shake the feeling that it could have been ol’ anybody. Though I’d never stopped
to question why I’d been so quick to say yes.
Both of my friends gave me a skeptical look.
“Like I said, we’re workin’ through it.”
“Did you apologize?” Nish asked.
“For?”
Both of them gave me a “bitch, be real” look.
“Yes, okay. Yes, I told her I was a real bitch for not congratulatin’ her. Happy? Now, movin’ on. I heard what y’all said
last time. I don’t want y’all thinkin’ we’re only gonna talk about me and Courtney or whatever. So, what’s goin’ on with y’all?
How’s work?”
“Work? Same ol’ same ol’,” Denise answered with a shrug.
“How did that make her feel?” Nish asked, directing the conversation back.
I played with the stem of my glass, recalling how happy and almost thankful Courtney had been that I’d finally done the right
thing and acknowledged her accomplishment. “Good. Happy,” I said quietly. “Now, back to y’all. No crazy customer stories to
share?” For once I didn’t want to share a moment that had happened between us.
They both rolled their eyes and started laughing, and I knew I was in for some piping tea. For the next two hours it was a
good time. Talking, laughing, and just hanging out with my friends over delicious food and drinks. And it provided an excellent
distraction. Though not a complete one, as Courtney and our issues . . . my issues, remained shadows in the back of my mind.
“I miss it.”
Nish frowned. “You miss what?”
“Dancin’.”
“For real? I thought you loved being a real housewife,” Denise said. “Isn’t that why you quit in the first place? You were
a wife now, you couldn’t be shakin’ your ass for strangers. Ain’t that what you said?”
I picked up my water glass and took a long sip, annoyed at her statement.
Denise’s snide comment about disliking women who made their partners their entire personalities did the two-step back to the forefront and it got me heated all over again.
But it also pissed me off that she wasn’t entirely wrong.
“Damn. All she said was she missed it, D. Not that she was coming back.”
Denise put her hands up. “My bad. I ain’t mean nothin’ by it.”
“Well . . .”
Tanisha leaned forward. “Well, what? Girl, seriously? You want to go back to working ’til three a.m., wearing eight-inch heels,
and dealing with drunk, handsy men? Why?”
Because I lost direction in life when I quit.
Because I made my entire personality being Courtney’s wife.
Because wife is tired of me putting the responsibility of my entire happiness on her shoulders.
“I don’t know. I haven’t made any decisions. Just somethin’ I’ve been thinkin’ about. I was damn good at it. But the hours,
and customers.” I did a full-body shake remembering the not-so-good parts of the job.
Denise sat back in her chair and crossed her arms. “What’s going on? Y’all gettin’ divorced so you need a job again?”
“No! What the fuck? Why would you ask me that?” I spoke a little too loud and got looks from some of the surrounding tables.
She shrugged, not seeming the least bit bothered. “Again, you been livin’ the life of a basketball wife, now out the blue
you talkin’ ’bout comin’ back to join us commoners.”
“Denise.”
“Nish, you know I’m right. You just be too damn nice to say what we both be thinking.”
I turned to Tanisha. “You were thinkin’ I was gettin’ divorced too?”
She shook her head. “Not exactly. But curious as to what brought about the change because from where we sat, outside looking in, you were enjoying your life off the pole.”
Denise pointed her finger back and forth between the two of us. “See, too damn nice.”
“And why can’t you be too damn nice?” I challenged because she was once again working my nerves.
I took in a deep breath and it hit me like a ton of bricks: Was this how Courtney felt at times dealing with me? The way she
shut down and walked away after I kept pushing because I just had to have my way, had to win all the “battles.” I would hazard
to guess on some level the answer was yes, and that was a sad, sobering realization.
“Do you ladies need anything else?” the waitress asked, stopping whatever answer Denise was about to give.