Tempest Rising - Diane Mckinney-whetstone [111]
But she knew more today. Knew she wasn’t cheap and worthless, whorish, like she’d been called by Mae for as long as she could remember. Knew she deserved better than that nauseating shame cloud that would hang over her head after doing such a low-down thing as bedding her boyfriend’s father. Knew she could acknowledge how her flesh was hypersensitive right now, standing at attention because she wanted Perry so bad. And it didn’t have to go further than the acknowledgment. She could think it, she didn’t have to do it, until the day would come when she didn’t even have to think it.
Then she said it, right into his wide-open mouth that was trying to swallow her lips, almost shouted it so that it went straight to his head, where his throbbing was: “I’m in love with your son.”
It was more effective than a slap or a bucket of ice water over his head. He sat back so sharply he unintentionally swallowed the crystal mint Life Saver. Then coughed a choking cough. Coughed so hard he had to stand up and walk around the room. Coughed so hard he shook some sense back into his own head. Now he was ashamed. So ashamed he couldn’t even turn back around and look at her. Damn. Why was he even here? His lady lived right across the street. And if not her, there were a half a dozen women right here in West Philly he could swoon with a candlelit dinner and a stack of Delphonics forty-fives. But he was decent, tried not to run around once a lady emerged as his main squeeze. “Damn,” he said out loud when he could stop himself from coughing. “Ramona, I’m sorry, I’m so so sorry. I swear to God, I don’t know what got into me.” Still unable to look at her, he walked to the window. “I just came to offer to do the flyers.” He looked at his dress shirt, could smell his own cologne. “Damn,” he said again. “I’m honored that you love my son. He’s a good man, and you a good woman, Ramona, God knows you are.” He focused on the plastic chair cover as he walked across the room to get his jacket. “I’ll call my man down there at the Trib and see if I can get ahold of the original picture of those girls. Tell Tyrone what you want the flyer to say, you know, when they were last seen, that kind of thing.” He cleared his throat. “I’m going on ’cross the street and see if my lady is home. Don’t get up, Ramona. And forgive me for not making eye contact with you right now. But the Lord might send a bolt of lightning to strike me dead should these old shame-filled, leprous eyes gaze on the goodness of you right now.”
He was out of the door quickly; the sound of the door closing sealed the quiet that hung over the living room. Ramona just sat on the couch. She could still smell his cologne as if it were suspended in the air in front of her. Now the scent reminded her of Tyrone’s eyebrows. She jumped from the couch and ran to the phone to dial Tyrone’s number.
His voice had that dizzy, just waking-up static to it. But the sound of his voice went right to Ramona’s heart. It was a voice she was no longer willing to wait around for.
“Tyrone,” she said, “good morning, Tyrone.”
“Mona, baby doll—”
“Don’t baby doll me, just listen to what I got to say, okay.”
“Okay, I’m listening.”
She took a deep breath, then let her words rush out with the breath. “I need you, okay, like I’ve never needed any man ever in my life, I need you. The girls are gone, ran away—”
“What, ran away—”
“Don’t talk, listen.” Her voice was starting to shake. “Yes, they’re gone, all three of them, gone. So you tell that bitch you been laying up with, whoever she is, that your lady, Ramona, needs you, for now and until I say I don’t need you no more. Tell her the little jive fling y’all was having is now over. So you gotta cut it off, hack it, sever it, baby, but you got to let it go for good. Because I need you, here, now. And if you can’t be here with me, for me, right here and right now, you can’t never be with me, ever again.” Now she was crying. It was a soft cry that was trying not to moan.
“Mona, just hang up the phone,” Tyrone said.
“What?” she wailed.
“Hang it up! Hang it up