Chapter 9
I head to bed all smiles, completely delighted with myself. His reaction was priceless. I don't think he expected me to drop that little nugget. Oh well, he asked, and I always aim to please. When we knew each other well I was a very different girl. We met when I was 15 and he was 19, and back then I ran from him. He scared the shit out of me, couldn't figure out what in the world he wanted with me. I wasn't a fast girl, so if he thought THAT was going to happen, he was going to be sorely disappointed. I remember telling Dena what Nate said, that 'his boy Mack wanted to talk to me'. I was telling her how he's 19, has a job, has his own car and everything. I didn't know Big Jim had come in the house, so when he turned the corner talking about, "Look here Danie, there ain't nothin' you know to do with no 19 year old man; so forget it, and I don't want to hear no more about it," that ended that. I knew he was right. If I remember correctly, and I do, I said as much to Nate when he first mentioned it down Nita's house. I may not have been ready to act on my attraction, I was still incredibly attracted, though. Tenth grade passed into eleventh grade, and eleventh grade into senior year. Late one evening, about a month before graduation, we were all hanging out in front of Nate's house. Nita's cousin Derek came walking down the street. He had been the focus of my attention for about a year, until I found out he was fucking the girl in the next block down from ours. When I saw Derek I shrank back; I didn't want him to see me. Mack noticed my reaction and said, "Don't hide," and took my hand and pulled me right up front. He walked me up to my house and it was a wrap, I leaned in, spread my arms wide, and allowed myself to fall head over heals in love for the first time.
I slip into a pleasant night's sleep with memories of young love swirling in my head.
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Mornings in my house tend to be hectic; two bathrooms for five people just doesn't seem to be enough. I marvel at how we managed when there was just one. I growl my usual threats at CJ so that he gets his butt out the door and down the street to school on time. Three months ago I enjoyed the accommodations at the local pokey, for about three hours, over school fines because of CJ missing school and being late. (At the end of the school year he brought home all the notes I wrote to the teacher for his absences.) SMDH. So now I am on him about getting his act together and getting his young butt to school on time. I hustle him out the door and I am right behind him. Grabbing my coat, and my keys I head out for my day at work, halfway to the hospital I realize I've forgotten my phone. Dammit. Before yesterday I would have shrugged my shoulders and kept it moving, but it's my main link to Mack; so I hang a u-ey, because my phone is now my new best friend. It's funny how some patterns never change, once again, it's 9:29 and I find myself making the familiar dash across the parking lot in an attempt to swipe my badge before the clock ticks to 9:31.
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I'm generally off on Fridays or Mondays. I work four ten hour shifts, but we are severely understaffed, and I was out most of last week; so Robyn, my supervisor, allows me to come in today to fill in some gaps. My cube is in the corner of our office. I love the way my station is set-up. It's impossible for anyone to walk up behind me and see what is on my screen. I can shop, read e-books, check out the blog I write on, and have my Facebook page up while I work. Add to that, get fresh with my new, old flame. I'm powered up, Americano at my left hand, croissant half eaten next to my coffee cup, ready for my first patient of the day. Oh shit! I didn't check my text messages. Sure nuff, there is one from Mack, left last night at 10:46pm.
Mack: Why did u hang up? Call me back!*
Then another at 10:59
Mack: So you really gonna send me to bed like this.*
Another at 11:14
Mack: Remember little girl, turnabout is fair play. I owe you. G/N*
Little girl, and I let a little giggle slip. Oh this is going to be so much fun. I haven't been this innervated in a long time. I open my email program and right on top is an email from Mr. McNeil.
Sent: 2/20/15 06:18
Morning Butter Lips.
Sent: 2/20/15 09:51
Good morning Mack! U up and at it early this morn. I hope u had a restful night's sleep. I slept like a baby.
Sent: 2/20/15 09:56
No I did not! And I blame U!
Sent: 2/20/15 10:00
I will not be accepting any responsibility for ur insomnia or any of ur other unfortunate sleep patterns.
Sent: 2/20/15 10:13
No insomnia or any other sleep disorders. I sleep very well. Couldn't get comfortable, kept rolling over on a massive log. Call me!
Sent: 2/20/15 10:15
I'm sorry to hear about your nocturnal trouble. Sounds like you have a bad spring in your mattress. Maybe time for a new one. I can't call you now. I've been told my voice carries (actually they say I talk loud. Lies) and I'm unsure of the topic and content of this convo you want to have.
Sent: 2/20/15 10:45
Hmmmm. Sounds like a lot of deflection to me. Not a thing wrong with my mattress, brand new for your information. Nice and firm, no squeaks. Just speak softly, like ur whispering in my ear, and go get a hearing test. Maybe ur going deaf. Lol
My day goes off the rails after his last email. A staff meeting, ICD-10 go live update and training; then the employee shuffle we do whenever someone calls out. I'm in the hot seat the rest of my shift; so that left me no time for playing with Mack. Dena calls and leaves a disturbing voicemail, she's worried about Audree. I have to wait until it slows down a bit to call her back and find out what's going on with Audree. I grab a sandwich and some chips at the Cantina and go sit out in the atrium to get away from the department for awhile.
"Hey Dena, I got your message. What's wrong with Audree?" I ask.
"Hey Danie, oh nothing new. She just mentioned that she's not sleeping very much. I went by Bailey St. last night and she looks like she hasn't been sleeping. She's got some pretty dark circles under her eyes, and she looks like she's losing weight." My sister informs me. "Dad's birthday is coming up soon. She said she wanted to go out to the cemetery on his birthday."
"That's a good idea, I was wondering if we were doin' anything." I add.
"Well, it's a couple of weeks away so we've got time to figure out what we want to do. How you doin' ?" She asks.
"Umm, I'm," I hesitate. "I'm still pretty numb to tell you the truth. I don't think it has hit me, like curled in the fetal position, sobbing my heart out, hit me, yet."
"I know!" She jumps in, "I'm so mad at him, and I feel guilty about being so angry."
"That's one of the stages of grieving. Have you ever heard of the Kubler-Ross stages of grief and loss?" I ask, around my Caesar BLT wrap.
"Yeah, in college. What are you eating?" Sounding slightly annoyed.
"My lunch, why?" I snap back.
"You all smackin' in my ear. Why are you just now eating lunch?"
"I don't work in a high sidity office where you take your breaks at a designated time. I work in the Radiology Department of a Level 1 trauma center; the biggest one in three counties; everybody comes through Radiology. When it gets rollin' in here we take our breaks when we can." I get a little testy also.
"You coulda called me when you finished." She's not going to let this go.
"You right," and I pressed the big red end call button, and let it go for her.
I refuse to let Dena work my nerves today. With ten minutes left on my break I tap the text message icon to see what kind of trouble I can get into with Mack. I see a message from him but I also see one from Cy.
Cyrus: I just got a call from Matt Stanczyk. He recommended me for a position with the company he signed on with in Nebraska.*
All I see is Nebraska.
Me: NEBRASKA!?!*
I read it again.
Me: Who is Matt Stanczyk, and more importantly, who movin' to Nebraska?*
Cyrus: You must be busy, I left that message about three hours ago. Matt was one of the Vice Presidents at Dynamic Solutions. He left about six months ago. They need a good CNC Machinist that's certified on multiple machines. He thought of me. This a good thing babe.*
I'm glad he thinks so.
Cyrus: I'm interested! They have hospitals out there too.*
Me: I'm sure they do, my question is..., do they have Black people out there?*
Cyrus: We everywhere. Don't get ahead of yourself. I haven't even set up an interview yet. We can talk when you get home.*
Me: Mmmhmm*
What I don't say is, ain't no way in h-e-double hockey sticks I'm movin' to Nebraska. Just no. No! I'm a big city girl, getting use to York was hard enough, and besides I want to go home! I'm seriously thinking of moving back to Philly; and I'm not just talking, like in 2011. This idea is starting to take shape. My break is over and I never got a chance to talk to Mack. Damn. I read his text as I walk back to my department. Ever just had one of those days?
Mack: Yo! One of my biggest pet peeves is people not returning my calls, or answering my texts in a timely manner. I will cut jokers off quick........*
I stop reading and close my text messages. That's not going to end well, and I have to focus on work, I'm in the lead chair tonight. The rest of my shift drags by. I end up staying until closing because one of my co-workers needed to leave early due to family emergency. Everyone pitched in when I was the one with a family crisis, so I have no trouble returning the favor. Thankfully the frantic pace has died down, and by 8:30 we have an empty waiting room, and nothing on the schedule. I step into one of the back offices and call Mack. No answer. I'll try later. As I head to my car I try again to reach Mr. McNeil.
"Hey." He answers jovially.
"Hey back at'cha!" I say slightly confused.
"Busy today?" He questions
"Oh my God, busy is not the word. Swamped is more like it." I answer.
"I figured. You home?"
"Nope, just walkin' to my car."
"I thought you said you got off at 8?"
I could answer with a saucy remark and start all that stuff up again, or just have a regular conversation without all the sexual innuendo. I did say I wanted more regular'o in my life.
"Usually I do, but I had to fill in for a co-worker who had a family situation tonight." I say still trying to feel him out. I didn't read the rest of the text but what I read definitely had some 'tude. But I'm willing to let it drop. "How was your day?
"Same as every other, boring meetings, responding to emails, scouting locations, shuttling back and forth from City Hall to The Roundhouse." He says sounding tired and subdued.
"You okay, you sound down?" I probe
"No, nothing like that. Just chillin' at my home away from home." He laughs.
"Ok, cool." I say as I start my Lexus.
He gives me a little static about driving and talking but I assure him I am on my bluetooth, both hands on the wheel.
We settle into very nice conversation as I make my way north on George St. I come to the corner of Pennsylvania Ave. and Parkway Blvd. where I got pulled over and arrested Thanksgiving eve. He asks me about my arrest; and I tell him all about it. How I refused to get out of my car; how I told dumb & dumber I was less than two blocks from my house and I wanted to take my car home and park in front of my door. How at first they gave me a little push back, but eventually caved and followed me to take my car home, and how every single woman in there was there because of those two assholes. Evidently they had nothing else to do on their shift but ride around harassing residents the night before Thanksgiving. One girl was in there because of a curfew violation that was over 5 year old. All the women were of color, except the little meth-head curled up in the corner, and we all had similar stories, some old violation that was unresolved, and we just happen to have the misfortune of crossing their path the night they had nothing else to do and a quota to fill. I even tell him about giving the two slimeball cops the finger from the holding cell with all the other women they arrested that night.
"Oh, you would have gotten out the car." He tells me. I don't know what it is about me, that makes me somewhat combative when a challenge is issued in a menacing way.
"And yet, I didn't!" Spit with all the North Philly fire I could muster. I'm still a little raw over my encounter with York City PD; and no he won't be taking their side.
"I see somebody's still touchy." The humor in his voice breaks my childish attitude, and I laugh along with him.
"Ya think? Yeeaahh, maybe just a little." I say making the universal sign for 'a-little-bit' with my thumb and forefinger, like he can see me.
I arrived home and parked my car 10 minutes ago, just been sitting thoroughly enjoying our conversation. I'm about 3 doors back from my house, and I see when Marla comes out on the porch to smoke.
"Well, I'm here," I say to Mack. "Thanks for keeping me company on my way home." I'm disappointed that our conversation has to end for now. "Call me before you go...."
"No, you call me." He jumps in cutting me off. "I'm really not good with unanswered calls."
"I knew it!" I just about shout. "I knew you were pissed off."
"Oh you did." He says all cool n'shit.
"Yeah, that last text." I tell him. "I only read the first sentence or two, and stopped because I didn't want to get pissed off too. Just like you, I work a job were emergencies come up. My day fell off a cliff just after your last text; I couldn't call or text you back, I was busy. I was half scared to call, I thought you was gonna go off on me or something." I roll my eyes. "Yo, and jokers, really?"
"What's wrong with that?" He wants to know.
"Wow, ok." This was the first sign we weren't on the same page. "Then let me explain. I'm not your buddy or one of your boyz. I'm not going to talk to you all slick and foul, and I'm certainly not cool with being talked to like that."
There are several awkward seconds of silence.
"Ok, I hear you," But he has more to say. "I don't do the 'let me tell you something,' at all. For me that's a bad to start to effective communication. And yes, I get tight when my calls go unanswered for hours."
"Ok, I hear you." I parrot back at him, "If I don't answer your call, text, or email right away, know it's because I can't." I look up and Marla is standing at the rail looking me dead in the face. "Mack, I really have to get inside, my mom is on the porch eyeballin' me. I'll call you before I go to bed."
"You better," He growls,
"We good?" I ask.
"Butter, that ain't nothin' to have beef over. Of course we are." He states. "All a part of getting to know each other."
"Ok, smooches, later."
I walk toward the house not quite sure if that was a fight or not. Marla is sitting in her smoking chair, and just as I step on the porch she lets go with "Don't say I didn't warn you."
