Naughty Or Nice Part 12

He sighs.

"Say something, Blue."

"I . . . I don't know what to say . . . just . . . dunno."

I lower my head. "You can leave if you want to."

"You want me to leave?"

"I'm saying it'll be all right if you do."

Blue sits on the edge of the bed, his back to me, his hands gripping his thick hair.

I wiggle back into my panties, sit in profile, my hand in my hair, inhaling the wonderful scent of stolen candles.

Blue turns and makes a quick move in my direction; my eyes widen and I shriek, cower away from him. My expression rattles him as awkwardness blankets us.

He raises his palms, waits a moment, then asks, "You okay?"

I own no words right now. Hands shaking. Again, embarra.s.sed.

He waits, watches me, then asks, "What was . . . What just happened?"

"Thought you were gonna hit me or something."

Blue pauses, sadness in his every move.

"Who hurt you, Tommie?"

My eyes close. "My ex."

"What'd he do?"

"He used to beat me and stuff, that's all."

"That's all?"

My fingers come up to my face and again I trace my history. My head shakes; my vision darkens. I didn't mean to say that's all, didn't mean to minimize the damage. Shame did that.

I raise my head and look Blue in the eyes. "He'd beat me over nothing."

"That's why you left L.A.?"

"Yeah."

Silence again.

I say, "This is really hard for me, but I'm trying. I've been in group . . ."

"Therapy."

"Yeah. He messed my head up so bad. The last time he beat me, he kicked me . . . burned me right here . . . I ended up in the hospital. That was when my sisters found out . . . Livvy came with her husband . . . Tony beat him up real bad . . . They took me to the emergency room . . . and . . . after that . . . had to . . . told them what had been going on for the whole year . . . Frankie was ready to kill him. Stupid me lied and defended his b.u.t.t. It was a big mess. A real big mess. My family was mad at me a long time. Then . . . I came back out here to finish school."

"You came back to be with him?"

"Heck, no. Came back for me. Had to prove I could do this by myself."

Blue pauses. "Where is he?"

"Somebody said he was in Seattle or Oregon or something."

"Wanna talk about it?"

I shake my head. "One day. Not now."

He says, "I don't know what to do right now."

"Me either."

"You want me to go?"

"No, just talk to me."

"Don't know what to say."

We both lie back on the bed, on our backs, eyes to the ceiling.

I ask, "How many women have you been with?"

He shrugs. "Don't know."

"More than ten?"

"Yeah."

"Twenty?"

"Yeah."

I ask, "How old were you when you first did it?"

"Fourteen."

"Wow. Did you have an o.r.g.a.s.m, or just put it in?"

"Had an o.r.g.a.s.m."

"How was that?"

"Scared the s.h.i.t out of me."

I laugh. "You were getting your freak on before I was born."

He chuckles. "You?"

"I was a soph.o.m.ore in college."

"I think that gets a wow too."

A dog barks out in the neighborhood. A car pa.s.ses down a side street, music playing loud. I hear the kids next door, Womack's family, outside. They run out of their house. A basketball starts bouncing. Their kids start screaming like heathens.

I get up, reach under the curtains, and close my window, then get back in the bed.

Blue asks, "Are you crying?"

I shake my head. "Sinuses are draining."

I get up again, walk down the hallway to the bathroom.

I talk louder, "I know you're disappointed. So I won't feel bad if you leave, Blue."

He moves around. I hear him and imagine him reaching for his clothes. His footsteps move from the bedroom to the living room, going toward my front door, knowing that it's time for the erotic shades of Blue to fade from my mind.

My voice catches in my throat as I call out, "Don't forget your Unity cup."

I blow my nose soft and gentle. His footsteps move back toward the bedroom.

He calls out, "Maybe you should take an allergy pill."

I open my cabinet and pop two red pills, go to the kitchen, and get a gla.s.s of water.

Blue is on my bed, still sitting up, still undressed. Even in the dark, he's awesome.

As I pa.s.s by, he touches my arm. First I tremble, then relax. He invites me down next to him. I put my head on his chest. He ma.s.sages my neck and shoulders with a gentle touch.

Bonnie Raitt is still in the air.

I join in, singing about an old house falling down at the dimming of the day.

He asks, "Why do you like Bonnie Raitt?"

"White girl I was in group with liked it. She was a twenty-six-year-old battered wife. Three kids." I laugh like it was a good memory. "I hated that music at first, but she made me sit down and listen to the lyrics. Go beyond the music. You have to do that sometimes. Get below what you think is on the surface. That's what you have to do with people. Go beyond the surface. Get beyond the music they're dancing to. She taught me that."

"She's in Texas?"

"Gloria died last year. Her husband gave her AIDS."

"Wow."

"He plays pro football in Florida. He had s.e.xual hang-ups and took it out on her to make himself feel like a man."

"So, he's-?"

"From what I hear, he's still walking around spreading the disease."

His fingers make smooth circles on my back. My moans rise in jazzlike riffs.

He said, "You're beautiful. Smart. Why stay in an abusive relationship?"

"Stupid me thought I could change him by loving him. I used to get on my knees and pray to G.o.d that he would change. My friend Gloria said that trying to change a man was like trying to cure cancer; we knew we were gonna fail, but we tried anyway."

My fingers make circles in the hair on his chest.

He whispers, "Sorry if I came off too, I dunno, wrong."

"You didn't know. I think I told you too much."

"No you didn't."

"You okay with it?"

"I don't have a problem with it. My mood isn't the best."

"What's wrong?"

"Baby-momma drama. Same old."

"Wanna talk about it?"

"Nah."

We keep feather-touching each other. I'm calm and tingling. Fear is gone.

"I like you, Tommie. Like you a lot. Mo loves you."

"But?"

"I don't bring women around Mo. I'm very protective of her."

"You're supposed to be. My daddy was the same way."

Some thinking time goes by before Blue speaks again. "I've got a lot going on."

"We all do."

"Guess so."

I say, "If you can accept my baggage, I'll accept yours."