Later that night
It’s 3:30 in the morning. Me and Love are having it out. She hasn’t let me get a wink of sleep.
“Listen Donald, all I asked you was when you’re going to get fitted for your tuxedo?”
“I told you this weekend!”
“You told me that last weekend and the weekend before that.”
“I’ve been busy as hell!”
“Don’t scream at me!”
“I’ll do whatever the fuck I want to do,” I reply.
“Not to me you won’t!” Love shouts.
“Yes the fuck, I will,” I challenge.
“No the fuck you won’t!”
“Love, stop cursing at me!”
“Motherfucker, you cursing at me,”she replies. “Who the fuck do you think you are? You can curse at me, but I can’t curse at you. I’m a grown ass woman!”
“Love, if you keep popping shit, I’m going to slap the shit out of you.”
“You’re not going to slap nobody!”
“Love, please,” I beg.
“I wish you would slap me!”
“Love, I’m begging you. Stop running your motherfucking mouth!”
“I wish you would slap me,” she mumbles. “You gone slap me cause I asked you when are you going to get fitted. That will be the last time you slap anybody. As a matter of fact, you don’t have to get fitted!”
“Fuck it then!” I reply. Her smart mouth is really starting to get under my skin. “It doesn’t matter to me. I’m doing this for you.”
“You don’t have to do shit for me,” she replies. I just fucked up.
Love stomps out of the room. At first my pride won’t let me run behind her. But I know I’m wrong. Ever since I’ve been beefing with Junebug, I’ve been real snappy. I know it’s not her fault, but I can’t help it.
I walk out into the living room. Love is laid out on the couch with a pillow covering her face. I can hear the muffled sound of her sniffling. She’s crying.
“Love, I’m sorry.” As I try to grab her hand, she snatches it away. “Love, you don’t understand. I’m under a lot of pressure.”
“You brought this pressure upon yourself. Don’t take it out on me,” she blurts out, but she still doesn’t look my way.
“I don’t mean to take it out on you,” I whisper.
“Then why do you do it?”
“It’s the pressure.”
“What pressure?”
“Love, you don’t know.”
“No, I don’t. That’s why I want you to tell me right now.”
“I can’t,” I reply.
“Tell me what it is that’s causing us to fight like this. Donald, lately I’ve been regretting being with you,” she admits. “Your attitude stinks.”
I know my attitude isn’t the best, but I didn’t know she’s been living with regrets. I don’t want to tell her what’s going on, but I can’t watch our relationship go down the drain. “Baby, what is it?” she asks. “Is it anything I can help you with?”
“The only thing you can do is bear with me,” I reply. “I’m going through a lot right now.”
“What is it? Stop beating around the bush,” she whispers.
“All right listen. I got into a little conflict with a young joker,” I mumble.
“Conflict?”
“Yeah, it’s not really my beef; it’s my man’s beef.”
“Well, let your man handle it!”
“Love, it’s not that easy. He’s my man.”
“Donald, you are too old for this dumb kiddy shit! You sound stupid as hell, almost 38 years old talking out some beef! Anyway, your time has run out. You told me in 90 days you’d be done.”
“I know, but you told me I have until March.”
“No, I said you have two months to get it out of your system.”
“Love, March and I’m done for real. Word is bond!”
“Yeah, all right,” she challenges. “So, who is it?”
“Who is what?”
“Who is it that your man had the conflict with?”
Damn, I don’t know if I should tell her this. Maybe I should tell her so she can watch herself. “Junebug.”
“Who?”
“Junebug, the tall Philippine-looking kid from the old block.”
“Oh, the Mayor,” she shouts. I hate the way that word rolled off her lips.
“Yeah, Junebug!” Her face goes blank. She knows all the crazy things him and his goons have done on the block. She’s witnessed the majority of it from the window. She’s even told me stories that I didn’t know about.
“Those boys are crazy,” she says.
“Them motherfuckers ain’t crazy! They want people to think they crazy!”
“Baby, you have to be careful,” she whispers.
“I’m going to be careful. I’m not worried about myself; I need you to be careful!” I explain.
“On your way to work, circle the block twice before you park and get out. Do the same thing before you come home at night. Watch your rearview mirror carefully. If you see the same car twice, get the plate number. Don’t come out for lunch. I’ll bring you lunch if you want me to. Right now, Junebug drives a green Bentley. His man drives a black Benz, and they also have a black Grand Prix.” As I updat her she doesn’t say a word. She just listens attentively. I can sense fear and confusion in her.
“Donald, when is all this going to be over? When will we be able to live a regular life? You’re stressing me out. Why are you putting me through this? Why are you putting yourself through this? When was the last time you had a good night sleep? You jump in your sleep all night long. What is it that causes you to fight in your sleep? This lifestyle is driving you crazy!” I didn’t answer any of her questions. I can’t argue with her because she’s totally right. I didn’t realize she was aware of me jumping in my sleep. Every night I wake up in a cold sweat. I guess that’s my conscience. I’ve seen too much in my life. This shit is starting to have a big effect on both of us.
“So now, I have to be out here in fear? I keep telling you, you’re the drug dealer, not me. I didn’t do all these years of schooling to live like this,” she whines. “Now I can’t come out for lunch! What am I, a prisoner?”
“Love, please just do what I asked you and everything will be all right. I told you, it’s not me they’re after.”
“So why do I have to hide?”
“I just want to keep you out of the spotlight. You never know how these guys are thinking. If them niggas even look at you wrong, I’ll kill all of them! Shit, they better not fuck with my baby!” I scream, in a laughing manner.
She laughs. I then give her the tightest, most reassuring hug I can give her, followed by a deep, passionate kiss. That one kiss leads to several other kisses. Those other kisses lead to one hour of meaningful lovemaking. The lovemaking leads to total exhaustion.