Somehow I made it through the first week without committing a crime against my in-laws or going stark raving crazy.
“Baby, I know this is hard on you, but it won’t be but for a minute. You know, if it was your family, they would be just as welcome in our home,” Jesse Ray told me, speaking too casually for my tastes. My family? That was a joke, but I wasn’t laughing. Other than Mama and Daddy, I had no family. And, they were the last people in the world I expected to come to me for help of any kind. I visited my parents every now and then, but they had never even been to my new neighborhood, let alone my new house. Even though they declined every invitation I extended to them, I continued to invite them. “I can’t turn my back on my family,” he added, trying to show me some affection by squeezing my breast. All that did was piss me off even more. Sex didn’t distract me the way it used to. At least not with him.
This man had lost a lot of credibility with me. His lip service was bad enough, but his position in the bedroom had dropped from a B minus to a very low D. That made me think about Wade even more. I knew that my relationship with Wade, with his penniless self, had nowhere to go beyond a bed. And, with the situation in my house being what it was, I wanted more than sex. I wanted peace of mind even more.
I was glad I still had my relationship with Miss Odessa. But since I couldn’t get out of the house that often anymore, I couldn’t even visit my elderly friend as much as I wanted to. And, she was so hard of hearing now, trying to communicate with her by telephone was a waste of time.
My in-laws were just as rude to Jeanette and Nita as they were to me, so my girlfriends had practically stopped coming to the house. But every chance I got, I met one or both of them at a bar or a restaurant. This particular Saturday afternoon, I’d met Nita at Otto’s, a dark little bar on a side street a few blocks from my house. As soon as the waiter delivered our drinks, I guzzled up half of mine in record time. I needed it, but not to release the hold I’d had on my tongue. I would have said what I had to say with or without a rum and Coke.
“Those damned people are driving me up the motherfucking wall! If I don’t do something soon, I’m going to lose what’s left of my mind! That bitch Adele sat in the kitchen, filing her claws, while her daughter’s fat cat dragged a pork chop off the counter last night! One night I walked in my bathroom just in time to see Odell jacking off and shooting his black sperm into one of my best towels! One of my credit cards is missing! I’m going crazy up in that house!” I paused so I could catch my breath.
Nita sat in silence, sipping her drink and nibbling on some bread sticks and looking at me like I had already lost my mind. “Adele uses my make-up and perfume without asking! Odette used another one of my best towels to clean up a pile of shit her cat left in the middle of my living-room floor! And, they are supposed to be helping me take care of Miss Rosetta! Ha! When they are home and she shits herself, do they change her diaper? Hell, no! They wheel her into whatever room I’m in and tell me, ‘Grammy had a little accident,’” I said, imitating Odette’s whiny voice.
Nita looked around the bar, then back to me. “Are you finished? Do you feel better now?” she asked, squeezing my hand.
“I’m fine,” I muttered. “No,” I said, pausing to drink some more. “I am not fine!” I slammed my glass down so hard on the table, it shook. Our waiter was nearby, and I motioned for him to bring me another drink.
“Girl, you need a vacation,” Nita said in a calm voice, shaking her head.
“I need a lot more than that,” I mumbled, staring at the top of the table. As soon as the waiter set my second drink in front of me, I took a long swallow and let loose again. “Not only do I clean up behind everybody, cook most of the meals, and take care of Miss Rosetta, I get victimized in other ways. Two days ago some money disappeared from my wallet. I didn’t even bother to accuse anybody of stealing it, but I mentioned it to Jesse Ray. His theory was that I’d misplaced it. He said the same thing yesterday, when I told him one of my credit cards was missing.
“On another occasion, I caught Odette fucking on the living-room couch some little, narrow-ass boy that she’d sneaked in during the night. Adele gave her a mild scolding, then turned around and accused me of ‘spying’ on them. And, I finally found out why Odell is so quiet: the boy is an alcoholic and is often drunk as a skunk. One day I caught him drinking vodka straight out of the bottle! Because of the showdown with Adele about Odette and her little boyfriend glazing my sofa with their love juices, I didn’t even bother to expose Odell’s drinking habits.” I stopped ranting long enough to finish my drink.
“And, just as you would expect, people like Adele and her kids have the kinds of friends that you wouldn’t want to visit your house too often. I do what I can to keep that under control, and to my surprise, Jesse Ray backs me up. There are to be no visitors after nine at night, and no visitors are allowed to roam around the house unescorted. I had to impose a no smoking rule, using Miss Rosetta’s failing health as an excuse, which was more than a little valid. I even gathered up all the ashtrays and stored them in the garage. Even though nobody smokes in my presence now, the house still smells like smoke. And not just cigarette smoke. When I washed Odell’s clothes—yes, I do their laundry, too—I found half-smoked joints in his pockets and enough condoms for an army! Those things don’t disturb me that much. Odell is a typical teenage boy. But this morning I went to do his laundry and found a pair of my panties in one of his shirt pockets! I’m afraid that if I go off on a vacation, I won’t come back!” I told Nita, beckoning the waiter to bring me another drink.
“Girl, don’t you let those people run you away from your own home,” Nita said sternly, waving a finger in my face. “You can’t go on like this. Why don’t you call up that hunk Wade?”
“For what?” Just the mention of his name brought a smile to my face. “Should I?” I asked, leaning forward.
“What’s wrong with you, girl?” Nita snapped, rolling her eyes. “You need a tune-up, and he’s got the tool you need,” she said, with a chuckle.
“I’m married,” I said, snatching my third drink from the waiter, who was as cute and sexy as Wade. I didn’t realize I was still staring at his butt as he walked away until Nita cleared her throat and slapped the top of the table.
“So? That one little detail didn’t stop you before!”
“Yeah, well, that one time was a mistake. I’ve got enough problems. Like I said, I’m married.” I could feel myself getting wet between my thighs.
“That’s part of the problem. You are too married. You are trying so hard to keep your husband happy that you are neglecting your own feelings. If I was in your shoes, I’d either leave or get me some regular outside action.”
I gave Nita’s words some thought, but I didn’t comment. Instead, I went to the ladies’ room and grabbed a wad of paper towels. Then I pulled down my sticky panties and mopped up all the juice sliding down my thighs.
Nita and I had come to the bar in separate cars. I was thankful for that because I wasn’t ready to go home when Nita was. I drove around aimlessly for an hour, thinking about what Nita had suggested. I still had Wade’s phone number, and I knew that as long as that was the case, there was a chance that I would call him.
But by the time I reached my street, I had talked myself out of hooking up with Wade again. I had convinced myself that he probably didn’t want to see me again, anyway. A man who had made several X-rated movies probably had women coming out of his ears. Besides all that, I didn’t even know if he was still in the Bay Area. It had been a month since our romp in his mama’s house. A month! It had also been a month that my in-laws had been under my roof. And, it didn’t look like they were leaving any time soon. Mel, Adele’s husband, had been coming to the house, trying to talk her into moving back home. That gave me a hopeful thought. But that thought went out the window as soon as I reached my house.
To my everlasting horror, Adele’s husband, Mel, was climbing out of his battered minivan, toting two of his suitcases. My mind refused to believe what my eyes were seeing: he was moving in, too!