Page 98 of False Start
“He told me. I didn’t listen.”
He cringes. “Girl.”
“Yeah, I know.”
“I don’t know. It’s a hard thing to watch your partner be unfaithful with someone else, regardless of the circumstances. I get it. I understand you running and getting the hell out of there, but at some point, you could have listened to the man?” I relay with my expression how much this hurts. “My girl is feeling this.”
“Yeah.”
His eyes dance back and forth and sparkle with excitement. “You know what we need? We need a night at the club.”
I cringe this time. “I wasn’t on my best behavior last time.”
He pulls a wad of cash from the top of his muumuu and unfolds the green lump. “I want you to go down to that new fancy spa down on Royal Street and have a day on me. Get the works, girlfriend. I’ll meet you back here at seven. Oooo-weee, I can’t wait!”
And then he’s out the door before I can argue back. A spa day doesn’t sound awful, especially not when I feel so weighed down with depression. So I spend the day at the spa Leslie recommended and enjoy every last second of being pampered from my head to my toes. Since I arrived late, they keep it open a bit past closing to finish my nails, and I barely manage to make it home in time to meet Leslie.
Leslie is a makeup and hair artist genius, and he’s the only man I know that can dress a woman better than she can. By the time he’s done with me, I have a new outfit I didn’t buy, and I look like a million bucks. I’d definitely do me.
The club is in the Quarter, but it’s too far to walk, especially in heels. Zina and I order a car and head on over around 9:30. I love to see the entire show and Leslie is usually the headlining act at Sparkles.
Reeva is checking IDs at the door and smiles from ear to ear when she sees us. “Hey, there’s my favorite sisters.” She waves us in, kisses both sides of our cheeks and gives us a squeeze. “So gorgeous. All this blond hair,” she says as she plays with Zina’s hair. “And you look like a million bucks,” she says to me. “Look at all that leg on display!”
Reeva calls a bouncer over to take over her duties, and then she escorts us to the bar to grab a cocktail and a shot. She then deposits us at the table front center of the stage. “This is the best show ever!”
“She’s excited tonight,” I say when she walks away. I love Reeva. She’s easily excitable and her happiness is always infectious.
Zina and I cheer on all the guys and gals in the show and have a damn good time. Leslie was right about coming out tonight. I needed a night here amongst his friends, live music, and easy laughter. And for the first time in a long time, I wish Bryant were here. I wish he were right beside me soaking up the show.
“Going to the ladies,” I say as I leave Zina holding down the table for us.
I pull out my phone to call Bryant, but it goes straight to voicemail. I think of leaving a message, but I chicken out at the last minute and hang up.
After I use the ladies room, I make my way back to the table and frown when I notice the lights are down. You can hear a pin drop, the entire place is radio silent. A single spotlight clicks on and illuminates Leslie in the middle of the stage. He’s probably seven feet tall in his long, deep v-cut, sequined, hot pink dress. He’s wearing a black wig that cascades down his back, and strappy silver heels on his large feet. My friend is gorgeous.
The crowd cheers for Leslie. “Thank you. I love you too,” he says. “Tonight, I wanted to do something a little different for y’all. I’ve had the opportunity to play Cupid, and y’all know I couldn’t turn it down, Lawd.” More shouts go out for Leslie. “So I invited a friend here to the show his lady how much he loves her.”
“Awww,” Zina says.
Leslie turns to the side of the stage and waves someone over. “Suga, don’t be shy. Come on out here.” My friend turns back to the crowd. “Y’all give him a round of applause now.” And the crowd goes wild.
A large man dressed in an emerald sweetheart cut gown, broad chest, and long brown hair curled in ringlets steps into the spotlight as he teeters on heels.
“Oh my God,” Zina says and laughs.
“That’s…” I start. “No way.”
“Baby,” the man says into the microphone, and I’d know his voice anywhere.
“No,” I say and slap my hand over my eyes while my sister continues to cackle next to me.
“Baby,” he repeats and shields his eyes from the light to look into the crowd. “Fuck, I can’t see shit,” he says. He pulls the mic from its stand and teeters down the short catwalk of the stage to stand in front of us. And Bryant grins down at me when he catches sight of me. “Coach, I love you. I’m sorry for all the shit I’ve done, and I’ll do anything to have another shot at making you happy.”
A second spotlight shines further down the stage on Leslie who’s sitting at a piano with a second mic in front of him. My best friend and ex-husband play and sing Whitney Houston’sI Will Always Love Youwith Leslie singing backup and Bryant’s beautiful voice singing lead. I can’t help or stop the tears that form and cascade down my face, because regardless of all the times I’ve run and all the times I was afraid or angry, he never gave up. He never gave up because he loves me. Zina throws an arm over my shoulder and pulls me in a little closer while I look into Bryant’s green eyes with a full set of faux lashes and a beautiful smokey-eye as he serenades me like a diva.
I look behind Bryant to see Leslie’s face also full of tears as his voice starts to quiver singing backup for Bryant. “Sing it, Suga,” he sings into the mic and shakes his head back and forth like he’s Stevie Wonder.
As Bryant nears the last verse, he begins to pump his fist, belt into the microphone, and shake his ringlets all around like he’s Beyoncé. His large hands move around like he’s conducting a symphony, and he makes some interesting expressions as he gets deeper into the song.
