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T
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A month after the disastrous sleepover, I was still down in the dumps. I reached out to John. It was his birthday month, and he was due a meal anyway. We had hardly spent time together lately and I missed my best friend. We met at our favorite Indian restaurant. Since Johns Hopkins was buying up all the property surrounding its campus and expanding, café after café, restaurant after restaurant opened along St. Paul Street to capitalize on the pool of hungry students and staff. The plain aluminum-framed storefront the restaurant occupied was in its second incarnation having once been a classic American diner.
There was nothing special about this place’s ambiance. The faux leather booths gave you serious skin burn if you sat in one place too long and then tried to shift. However, the food was excellent and tasted like it came directly from Mumbai. Sitting in our usual booth in the rear of the restaurant, I filled John in on the twists and turns of my life since Ms. Charles became a constant presence in it.
“So, she just packed all her shit and left?” he asked.
“Yep, she bolted like the damn house was on fire or something,” I told him.
“Have you talked to her?”
“We see each other here and there, talk just about every day, and enjoy the occasional night out. You know it’s hard for anyone, Ms. Jasmine in all of her coolness included, to stay away from all of this good lovin’,” I said teasing.
“Uh huh,” John said with one eyebrow raised.
“But she really hasn’t had much in-depth conversation for me, and her mixed signals are tiring. Quite frankly, I’ve been incredibly busy producing new stuff for the spring and summer festivals as well as putting in extra time in the after-school program.”
“How do you feel about that?”
“Jasmine or putting in extra time with the kids?” I asked.
“Jasmine fool...you know how I feel about your side hustle at Baltimore City Public Schools,” John said.
“Side hustle? Where I work full time? You’re funny. Anyway, I don’t know. I thought we were getting to a good place, you know? Since meeting her and taking her home for Thanksgiving I seriously started thinking about my future.”
“What?” John exclaimed, clutching his imaginary pearls.
“Hush boy, I’m trying to be serious here. Assuming we get one shot at this thing called life, I’m thinking that maybe I no longer want to fill it with mindless activity and women I care little about.” John stared at me, holding his fork. I ignored his stunned expression. “Ego boost? Yes. But it’s always short lived, unlike the innate desire I feel for Jasmine. Our bad days are better than most of my good days with other women you know?” I heard the words coming out of my mouth. To some extent, I was surprised at my own true confession.
“Wow! You know word on the street is you’re already off the market.”
“What? Who told you that?” I asked a bit shocked.
“You know girls don’t have much, or do much, for me but they try like hell to get to you through me.”
“You don’t say,” I said with suspicion and put another bite of tasty salmon tandoori in my mouth.
“Here’s what I know to be true,” John said, demonstrably pointing his finger at me.
“Oh boy, do I want to hear this?”
“When have I ever asked you for your permission to provide my unvarnished opinion?” I started to answer as John put his hand up. “That’s a rhetorical question. You’re a great catch Teresa. Always have been ever since I’ve known you and that’s been what?”
“It’s been over fifteen years since my first year at SCAD,” I answered him.
“And, you know you’re a catch.” He kept talking, not missing a beat. “So much so, that after Imani broke your heart, you’ve gone through women like most of us change our undergarments. I think the thought of limiting your options scares you to death.”
I stared out the window at nothing in particular listening to John sum up my personal life in a matter of seconds and echoing my mother’s words from months earlier. “I also know that I’ve never seen you so invested in one person...dare I say, happy even, not just content and settling. And out of all the girls I’ve met, knowing full well that I’m sure I’ve only met a fraction of them, I really like Jasmine. And I like Jasmine for you.”
“Well thank you for that but I thought you liked Sheila?”
“Girl please, I tolerated Sheila. I was so glad when that high maintenance, siddity Negress finally showed her ass one too many times and you cut her loose. Lord only knows why you put up with her for more than two days, let alone two years. She was exhausting!” John finally paused, “T honey, what do you want?”
I contemplated his question a while and finally spoke, “I don’t know. I’m not sure about much of anything anymore. Maybe I never was. Jasmine made some comment about me not taking care of the family and...”
“What family?” John interrupted.
“Exactly! That’s what I said. ‘Cause she made it clear that she wasn’t trying to start another relationship anytime soon. Then all of a sudden, she’s mad because we’re not in a relationship. What in the holy hell is that?”
“You know it’s been like ten months since you two have been dating right?”
“What?” I exclaimed.
“And although neither of you wants to admit it, you have been in a relationship damn near a year.”
“It hasn’t been a year.” I counted using my fingers, “June, July, August, September...March...”
“T, my damn daffodils have started blooming. Spring is all but here.”
That realization hit me square in the face. I knew John was correct, he generally was, which drove me nuts. “Jeez, you’re right. Time flies when you’re having fun I guess.”
“You know I am. That’s just it...you’re having fun. Admit it. You like her. You want to be with her.”
“I do like her,” I admitted and smiled.
John held his hand out. “Okay Bitch, turn it in.”
“Turn what in?” I asked.
“Your player card.”
***
The last quarter of the school year was joyous, and havoc filled. It seemed like every time I turned around, my students’ work was on display somewhere around town...City Hall, malls, BWI airport... I was having a hard time keeping up.
Jasmine and I hadn’t really found our happy place again—consistently at least—after that bad snowstorm. Our vibe was off. It struck me then that with my schedule, I hadn’t seen or talked to her in almost two weeks. And the last time we did talk, you could cut the tension with a knife. The easy flow wasn’t there. Our conversations felt distant and forced.
In May, my principal informed me that my seventh-grade students received third place in the National Student Art Consortium. Nice! I, along with two students, would represent them and the school at an awards ceremony the first week of June in D.C. I really wanted to celebrate with Jasmine. I wanted her next to me. What was the point of success if you didn’t have anyone to share it with? Except, I hadn’t spoken to her, and I wasn’t sure where we were or how we got there. So, I called. She didn’t answer and I left a message. I still had three weeks before the ceremony, I would fill her in to see if she wanted to go.
Two weeks later, Principal Sheldon handed me two awards dinner tickets after a weekly staff meeting. I could feel my heart pounding and suddenly it felt like I was having trouble breathing. Jasmine still hadn’t called me back. Shit! Was that season over? It became increasingly apparent that many of my other ‘options’ were women I no longer wanted to spend time with.
I really didn’t want to go alone though so I started making calls. “What’s up T?” Tina answered, I could hear Boney James’ saxophone in the background.
“You. What’s good Ms. Turner?” I used my nickname for her, she had legs like the icon. Legs she used to wrap around me.
“Girl please, I haven’t heard from you in damn near a year.”
I was confronted by the march of time again. “Ah, it can’t be that long, seems like I’m always thinking about you,” I replied.
“Save the bullshit, T. What do you want?” Tina cut me off.
Damn! “I wanted to know if you wanted to go out.” I stuttered and gripped the phone.
“Out? Like outside of the house?” Tina sounded suspicious.
“Why did you have to say it like that? Yes, outside the house... to an awards dinner. More specifically, my students are getting an award and I wanted you to go,” I tried to laugh.
“I wouldn’t mind seeing you get a little award and all, but I got me a real girlfriend and we’re good,” I could hear the smugness.
“Well congratulations and good for you.” My response wasn’t genuine and sounded dry even to me.
“You should find you somebody T. Like one somebody. I like having someone who wants to be with me, day... night... inside... outside.” Tina paused when she said the last four words. I winced; her words cut like a dull knife. I wished her well and hung up. Wow! Tina got a boo and wanted to provide advice to boot.
I called Mariah. We had caught up a bit at TK’s family and friends’ dinner. But today, she threw lots of shade and suggested I “ask the woman you were with,” before hanging up on me. “Ahhhh! I tried to. She won’t return my call!” I yelled in the air. I thought about “freak of the week” Jennifer but couldn’t go through with the call. Lord only knows what she would show up wearing. I hadn’t seen her with a lot of clothes on.
Ugh. I got myself into this mess. Before Jasmine, I was able to come and go as I pleased, remain a mystery, and dictate the flow of whatever quasi-relationship I happened to be in at that moment. Jasmine, however, wasn’t trying to hear that. Whenever we went a few days without talking or I told her I had plans for the evening, she instantly got an attitude. This in turn only made me retreat further into my shell but I thought Jasmine was good with how things were. The whole “family” thing completely caught me off guard and now it seemed like Jasmine wanted no part of me.
By the time I called John it was an hour later, and I was slouched on the sofa with my head in my left hand and the phone in my right. I told John about the awards dinner, failing to find a date, and Jasmine disappearing.
“So, now what?” John asked.
“That’s all you got? I just sat here and poured my heart out to you, and you ask, ‘now what?’”
“Chile please, don’t take it out on me. You upset because you just realized you in love with someone and she isn’t returning your phone calls.”
My face scrunched. There was a sharp pain in the void where my heart should have been. “I left Jasmine another message this evening and had half a mind to ride by her house but talked myself out of that idea,” I confessed. “Why don’t you go with me?” I asked John.
“Go where?” he asked.
“To the awards dinner. Have you not been listening?”
“Of course, I’m listening, you’re just bouncing from thought to thought and I’m having trouble keeping up. Nonetheless, I’m sorry sweetie—Dre and I are heading to LA for a few days to boy watch.”
“Fine, I’ll figure something out,” I pouted.
I knew I was reaching when I called my mother to ask if she wanted to come up and attend the dinner with me. Even my mother was busy! She and her church lady friends had a shopping trip planned to an outlet mall. My father half-jokingly thanked me for asking him second, but said he was staying near the house since Mom would be away. He also said that I must not be working hard enough to get Jasmine to go with me. Thanks Dad!
The thought of being without that smart, hyper-sensitive, quirky woman brought tears to my eyes. John said that I was in love. Was I? I hadn’t really considered that that was what I was feeling. The question was, did she love me or even still like me? What I did know was that I had left a shit ton of messages that hadn’t been returned.
***
The awards dinner was great! My students, and their brilliant talents, were rightfully recognized and I made a few important contacts. But that really didn’t matter all that much to me in the broader context, I was there by myself. The people at the table were cordial, but I imagined they secretly pitied me because of the empty chair next to me. Jasmine should have been sitting there looking gorgeous, smiling, and smelling like warm spices and zesty citrus.
She had seeped into my life and into my consciousness. I found myself thinking about her when I woke up, when I was going to bed, working out, painting, eating lunch... basically all the time. I liked being in her space and her in mine. I liked experiencing new things with her but also marinating in life’s mundane moments... listening to her breathe, holding her close, kissing her very, very soft lips.
Before I met Jasmine, I thought my life was pretty full and satisfying. Then she and Coco eased into it and my senses became heightened, the world became brighter, like I had been living in a muted impressionist painting and then stepped onto a bright Synthia Saint James book cover. But for some reason now, Jasmine wasn’t answering her phone and it seemed as though she disappeared into thin air as quickly as she had appeared, and I missed her.
I drove back from D.C. and headed straight to Jasmine’s house. I wanted more out of life. I wanted the steadiness and stability my parents enjoyed. I wanted a partner, and I wanted that partner to be Jasmine.
As I pulled up in front of her house, I noticed an unfamiliar car in the driveway. Hmmm, maybe it belongs to one of her girls. After ringing the bell, Coco started barking and I could hear her running to the door, which made me smile. I smiled with anticipation, an anticipation that was building in my chest and making my breathing quicken. When the door opened, my smile vanished, and my heart sank to the pit of my stomach.
“Hey, can I help you?” Toni, Jasmine’s ex—I recognized her from the pictures that had since been removed—stood in the doorway.
I felt flush. Words were stuck in my throat. Although my mouth gaped open, I couldn’t formulate or voice an intelligible thought out of the hundreds that were swirling in my head. “No, I uh, have the wrong house.” I turned around and left before she could see my tears.