We didn’t leave our place until about 4:00 pm. We were caught up in some serious love making. Jonathan thought he was slick. Whenever he upset me or did anything to piss me off he made my toe curl with my eyes rolling to the back of my head, pounding my ass to the bed, daring me to get lippy. Or as he put it, “Talk that shit now!” while he’s deep inside the decadent center of my Tootsie Pop, driving me crazy. Of course he won, every time. Because I started stuttering like intoxicated, dyslexic Korean trying to see the Eiffel Tower from the sun.
He hit all the right spots. I felt like we were River dancing. We were hot, sweaty and panting, going at it like Jack rabbits. Jonathan and I didn’t argue much, despite spending eight Christmas holidays in a committed relationship (Christmas was also our anniversary), but during our twenty minute drive to his mom’s house we fussed like anorexic drunken sailors.
So much for sexual bliss.
“Once we hear what your crazy mother has to say, we’re leaving,” I said, eyeing Jonathan from the passenger seat.
He rolled his eyes, his skin crawling with pressure. “Do you have something to say about every damn thing, baby?”
He tried to focus on the road. There was a lot of unusual traffic, but I couldn’t focus on how crisp and sunny it was here in great ole Miami, Florida because my spouse wanted to suddenly check his estrogen levels in rebellious conversation.
I couldn’t deal with arguments. If I wanted to be nip tucked about my actions I would have married a woman.
“I just hate dealing with Cruella,” I said, talking about his mother. “I feel like a damn Dalmatian.”
“I do, too. I mean, she’s not that bad, baby.”
“Not that bad? OK, who the hell are you and where’s my husband? I get it. You must be a Kayne West clone, just ranting and raving, talking a bunch of nonsense.”
“Kayne drops knowledge in his rants. Plus mom has her days.”
“Aunt Flow comes to town every day in that house, repainting the walls with blood. Do you remember we used to live with her after we were evicted from an apartment we had for five years, the direct result of allowing selfish friends and family to live with us and sabotage what we worked so hard for?”
“Who the hell is Aunt Flow?”
I eyed him. “Her time of the month.”
“Grow up, baby.”
“Grow a pair and stand up to your mother. I understand you respect her. I do, too. I’d do (and have done) anything for her, but the way she talks to us is unacceptable! You don’t treat a dog the way she treats us and frankly my dear I don’t give a fuc...”
“Watch your mouth, Harry.”
“I’m grown, sir. My daddy was dead longer than yours so let his dead beat butt stay in early retirement next to your permanently sober papi.”
We were five minutes away from the evil Ice Queen’s institutionalized house. A place I didn’t care to remember or return to.
Jonathan was the eldest of three kids. And the only son. His bald head ass sisters only used him for financial gain and tarnished his image in biased dialogue behind his back.
“See, that’s what I’m talking about, baby. Do you think before you speak?”
“Do you speak before you think? It’s funny how you accuse me of doing the same shit that you do.”
“Don’t curse at me.”
“Nigga, this ain’t Mr. Rogers Neighborhood. And I’m sick of telling you that you’re not my damn daddy. I’ll curse if I want to damn curse. Stop chastising me like I’m a child.”
“You’re acting like one. And stop being a drama queen. With your sensitive ass.”
“Ha! But you can curse at me, Mr. Sagittarius? Why don’t you try to kiss my ass?”
“Too late. Listen, let’s just let it go, please. Bad enough I have to deal with my mother. Can we act like we just had the most incredible sex in the world, baby.”
He cupped my hand, grinning.
I was fuming, but one look in his eyes and I was no longer mad with him. I could never stay mad with him. It was impossible. The angel in his eyes always appeased the demon in mine. No, I wasn’t evil, but I did evil shit when I was angry. Hence why I taught anger management class. I did it more for my own development and well-being.
“Harry, once we leave…we don’t have to deal with her again. The great book says honor thy mother and thy father whether they are wrong or right.”
He signaled right, turning into his mother’s driveway I liked to call the pathway to hell.
He turned off the car, handing me the keys. “Let’s go, baby.”
Reluctantly, I unfastened my seat belt and glanced at the well-tended home, startled to see his mean ass mother standing on the porch, clad in a pink silk robe and furry slippers.
She smiled, phony of course.
My heart pounding with unease, I gazed at Jonathan. I wanted to say yes, we must honor our parents, but she’s an in-Law. Nothing that vicious gave birth to me and if she provoked me to wrath, there was going to be a Nightmare on Elm Street today.
Slowly, dreading it, I got out of the vehicle and walked towards her. The skies boomed a bit, hints of storm clouds invading those white puffs of cotton and throwing a huge dark shade over the neighborhood.
We locked eyes.
And we never looked away from each other....
A tropical depression was brewing...