This Ring

Here's another one my stories...ENJOY!


This Ring



“Hey Stace, what’s up babe?”
“Wanted to see if you wanted to do something tonight?”
“Uhhh...Okay.”
“What’s with the slow answer? Have something planned already?”
“Well...Not really. I just wanted to watch the game tonight.”
“Well, I wanted us to go have dinner and maybe dancing? We haven’t been out in so long.”
“I know, but you know I hate to dance, that’s your thing. I’d rather stay home.”
“You expect me to stay home too?”
“Well, maybe you could leave work early and cook dinner? Then we can have an intimate dinner at home alone, without the hassle of the restaurants and other people.”
“But, I like the hassle. I like the other people. I like feeling like we’re doing something besides sitting on the couch. Come on, baby, it’s Friday night. I don’t even like baseball or basketball or football or whatever, anyways. I’ll just be bored. Maybe I’ll call Tanya or Shannon and we can go out.”
“It’s basketball and I don’t understand why you call them every time I suggest we stay in. Don’t you even care that I want you to stay home with me?”
“You want me to stay at home with you, doing something I hate, but you never wanna do anything with me. That’s real fair.”
“Honey, I just want to be with you tonight, away from the crowds and the noise...PLEASE.”
“Okay, fine. I’ll leave a little early and get dinner started. I’ll make lasagna.”
“Ooohhh, my favorite. Baby, you are so good to me. What kind of man deserves a wife like you?”
“You definitely don’t. It’s just that I love you too much for my own good.”
“Honey, you know I love you just as much. Stop saying things like that.”
“I’ll see you tonight. Remember: Be home by 5:30. I don’t want to eat by myself. Don’t bullshit around and get home late.”
“Ok...Ok. I’ll leave right at 5. Thanks, baby, for understanding. I’ll see you later.”
“Yeah...Yeah. See you tonight.”
“I love you, sweetie.”
“Love you more.”

******************************************************************************

Stacy looks at the clock in the kitchen: 5:45 p.m. She has just finished putting together a savorily delicious-looking lasagna. She pours wine into two glasses when she notices the time: 6 p.m. Her face turns red hot, like she just swallowed a whole habañero pepper. She stomps into the living room and picks up the phone. Dialing, her hands are shaking. She walks back into the kitchen, looking, for a moment, at the table which is set for two with food and wine under candlelight. She sits down and eats her dinner, ever so often looking up at the clock.
She finishes the last swallow of wine, when she hears keys jingling in the front door. She looks at the clock: 7:15 p.m. Mike is home. He walks in and runs up the stairs to the bedroom to change out of his work clothes. Stacy starts to clear the table, stopping only to stare at the lasagna for a few moments before throwing it into the garbage. She finishes the dishes and walks upstairs to the bathroom and turns the shower on. As she walks through the bedroom to grab her robe, their shoulders collide into each other. Mike doesn’t move out of the way, so she walks around the other side of the bed to get her robe, then hops in the shower. Mike leaves the room looking into the bathroom with a smirk on his face.
Once out of the shower, Stacy can hear the game blaring from the television and Mike is pushing buttons on the microwave. She walks to her closet and pulls out her red satin shoulder dress and her strappy, golden Manolos. With her robe still on, she sits in front of the vanity, smiling, and begins with her hair and makeup. After putting the whole ensemble on and giving herself another look in the mirror, she walks downstairs. Making sure she passes through the living room to get to the kitchen, she eyes Mike when walking by, but he’s not looking at her. His eyes are glued to the game. Kobe is on the line. She looks away and rolls her eyes so hard, it looks like she is on the verge of convulsion.
In the kitchen, she looks at the clock again: 8:30 p.m. As she sits down at the kitchen table, the doorbell rings and she jumps up. She goes to the door and in passing, Mike finally looks up. His eyes open so wide, they almost pop out their sockets. His mouth sort of moves like he wants to say something, but doesn’t when Stacy turns around to face him, showing her entire beauty. She looks at him for a moment by the door, he doesn’t say anything. He gets up, turns the television off, throws away his T.V. dinner and stomps up the stairs and slams the bedroom door. Stacy opens the front door and smiling at Shannon, turns to get her coat and purse, then walks out slamming the door on her way out.

******************************************************************************

“Wow, Shannon, this club is nice. Where’d you find it?”
“Some people from work were talking about it and since you needed a night out, I thought we should try it together.”
“Well, the people look cool and the music sounds good...Let’s get a drink before we sit down.”
“Sounds good to me...To the bar!”
“What can I get you, honey?”
“Hi, Grey Goose Raspberry Martini, please.”
“And I’ll have a Mandarin Cosmo.”
“Wow, vodka. Now I know you must be stressed. You get loaded off pear cider. What happened with Mike tonight?”
“Oh, Mikey is just Mikey. It’s the usual. He says one thing, does another. I just couldn’t sit at home through this one. I wanted to be out. Ooh, look, there’s two seats.”
“Cool. So tell me what happened this time around.”
“I’m telling you it’s the same ol’ sob story. I wanna go out...He gives me the guilt trip...I cook dinner...He’s two hours late...I get mad...He doesn’t seem to care...I leave.”
“Well, I’m glad you came out. Mike needs some time to himself tonight. You look great and all the honeys in here can not stop staring.”
“Yeah, right, how do you know it’s not you?”
“Girl, please, I ‘ve got taken written all over me.”
“And I don’t? This ring means nothing?”
“You’re taken by Michael. I’m taken in a much different way. You know what I mean.”
“Wow, this reminds me of college. Damn, it’s been a long time.”
“Remember how great it was?”
“Yeah it was great. The drama was real great. Let’s stop talking and start having some fun. No more reminiscing about college talk...No more Mikey talk...No more talk at all...Ok?”
“Whatever, but speaking of fun, look at the cutie walking this way. Look familiar to you?”
“Shannon! You didn’t!”
“Hey, you need a break from Mike.”

******************************************************************************

Stacy gets dropped off in front of the house: 2:15 a.m. She hesitates by the front door. After about five minutes of straightening her clothes and hair, she lets herself in. She takes off her shoes and tiptoes up the stairs.
As she opens the bedroom door slowly, peeking her head in first, she notices the bed is still perfectly made and Mike is not in it. She swings the door wide open, dropping her shoes where they are and goes into the bathroom. He isn’t there. She runs downstairs. He’s not in the kitchen, not in the living room, not anywhere. Her eyes are wide and she looks nervous.
She stands in the living room for a moment, takes a deep breath and goes to the linen closet and gets out a pillow and blanket. She sets them on the couch and sits down, turning the television on. ESPN is on showing highlights from the game earlier. She leaves it on, but isn’t remotely interested. Her eyes are fixed between the front door and the clock sitting on the mantle above the fireplace.
Stacy reads the clock: 3:30 a.m., when she hears Mike’s keys in the door. She automatically turns her head to face the television. Mike walks in and she looks up at him and smiles, a very little one, but a smile. He smiles back and looks relieved. He walks up the stairs to the bedroom while she sits on the couch. He changes, comes back downstairs, looks at her and gives her another smile. As soon as he starts to sit, she stands up, looking at him with what looked like a smile, but with a curl of her lips turned into a smirk. She hands him the pillow and blanket and walks away. He starts to say something, but doesn’t. Instead, he just looks away and grabs the remote.
Stacy walks up the stairs and into the room. She picks up her shoes and changes out of her dress. As she gets into bed, her eyes are puffy with tears that she’s obviously refused to let stay in any longer. Even with the tears, she doesn’t look sad, nor does she look mad. She takes a deep breath and puts her face in the pillow and continues to cry.

******************************************************************************

“Yo, Ben, it’s Mike.”
“Mike, what’s up buddy?”
“Stacy just left...with Shannon.”
“With Shannon! Yo, you know that’s trouble. Where’d they go?”
“I don’t know, but she left here with almost nothing on. I bet Shannon’s taking her to one of her clubs.”
“Oh, definitely, and you know Shannon’s a freak too. Damn, you must’ve fucked up big time.”
“I was an hour late for dinner.”
“Big fuckin’ deal. Work is work. She should know that.”
“I made this big ass deal about her cooking me dinner and I got held up talking to Steve about getting some Laker tickets for next week’s game against the Nets.”
“You called and told her it was work, right?”
“Couldn’t, she knows when I’m lying.”
“See, that’s your problem, you’re weak.”
“Whatever.”
“Ok, I mean you just don’t know how to control your woman.”
“Ohh, but she cooked me dinner, didn’t she?”
“Yeah, and she’s out right now with a freak and who knows who else and you’re at home on the phone whining about it. Like a bitch.”
“Whatever, so, what should I do?”
“My poor friend, you are so lost. I’ll tell you what you’re going to do. You’re going to get dressed and I’ll be over in 30. She wants to go out, you’re going out too.”
“Alright.”

******************************************************************************

Mike and Ben walk into the club and Ben is immediately greeted by two very attractive waitresses in mini skirts and four-inch stilettos. They each give him a kiss on the cheek and then go their separate ways. Ben walks towards the bar with Mike following slowly behind. While it is difficult for Mike to get through the crowds of people, it seemed as if the crowd part, when Ben starts to walk.
They reach the bar and Mike and Ben are separated again by another pair of attractive women. Mike sits down at the bar and orders a drink. He turns around on the stool to face the frenzied dancing crowd with his drink in his right hand. After a few minutes, his head nods to the rhythm of the music.
He’s there a few more minutes when a brown-haired, green-eyed, model-like woman walks up to him, smiles and puts her hand his shoulder. Mike looks up at her, puts up his left hand, showing his finger which is dressed rather nicely with a 2-carat diamond studded band. She takes his hand, looks at the ring, smiles at him and then begins to move her hand down his back. He immediately looks annoyed, pushes her hand away and turns from her towards the bar again. She stands there for a few minutes and then walks away looking stunned.
Mike orders another drink and looks around the club. He sees Ben across from him with girls all around, giggling and holding onto every word coming out of his mouth. Mike gives a little sigh. This is what his night is like: drinks, drinks and more drinks. He doesn’t dance, nor does he even get up off his stool the entire night.

******************************************************************************

“Man, that club was off the hook!”
“Yeah, it was cool, I guess.”
“What, you didn’t have fun? Did you see how many bitches were in there?”
“Yeah.”
“Yo, what about that fine-ass Italian broad I seen all in your face?”
“Man, these chicks out here are crazy. I’m married and she acts like she doesn’t even care. This ring means nothing?”
“Look, when have you ever known me to stop because of a ring? Girls are just the same. They don’t care. They look at it like, why are you at a club if not to meet them?”
“What, a man can’t go out without having to be on the hunt?”
“I’m just saying that some women like it more that you’re committed. It makes you look better. Why do you think I keep Tanya around? She makes me look good.”
“Man, that’s fucked up.”
“It’s the truth.”
“I guess. It’s just that this is bullshit. Why am I out here when I have a wife at home?”
“Correction, your wife is not at home.”
“You know what I mean. I got married because I was tired of all this...The fighting over petty shit...The clubs...The girls, but here I am. Man, there’s something wrong with my marriage.”
“You said it, not me.”
“So what am I supposed to do now?
“Well, what do you wanna do?”
“I wanna go home...Take my wife in my arms...Look at her...Tell I her fucked up...Kiss her...And make sure she knows this is it for me. She is it for me.”
“Shit, you’ve answered your own question.”
“I know. Why did I even think it was a good idea to go to a club with you anyways?”
“Man, please I don’t care what you say. I had a great fuckin’ time.”
“Well, I’m just worried about my wife right now. I need for things to be good between us.”
“You’ve gotta prove it to her, my friend.”
“I know...And I know just how to start.”

******************************************************************************

Stacy walks into her office. She sits down, turns her computer on and looks at the clock: 9:30 a.m. She puts her face in her hands and keeps them there until the alarm on her palm goes off reminding her of an 11 o’clock meeting. She starts checking her phone messages and as she’s starting on her emails, she’s interrupted by a knock on the door. She looks up to see a huge beautifully arranged bouquet of roses, red and white, and the delivery man hiding behind it. She gets up to help him and sign for it. After placing the bouquet on her desk, she takes a step back and stands there shaking her head and smiling at this massive show of affection. She goes over to the bouquet and reads the card, her face glowing with love and admiration from the words she’s reading. She kisses the card when she’s done, puts it in her desk and looks out her window off into the Monday morning traffic on the highway. She sits there in silence for a few minutes, then her phone rings.

“Hi, this is Stacy.”
“Hey. How are you?”
“Ohh, hi. I’m good. How are you?”
“I’m well. Did you get the flowers I sent?”
“Yes, I’m looking at them right now. Thanks, they’re beautiful.”
“My pleasure. Anything to put a smile on that face.”
“Last Friday night was pretty crazy, huh?”
“I don’t think it was crazy, I had a good time with you.”
“Yeah, me too.”
“You don’t sound like it.”
“Well, you know my situation is kinda difficult.”
“I know, but we’ll work through it. I’m not trying to come between you and him, I just wanna be with you.”
“I know. I just can’t imagine how he’ll react if he finds out. Remember what we went through when he first ran into you?”
“Baby, that was college, six years ago. People change.”
“You haven’t. I thought you’d given up on me six years ago, but here you are again. I know my husband, he hasn’t changed. That’s part of the problem with us now.”
“Hey, I loved you way before he was ever in the picture. You’re right, I haven’t changed. I loved you then and I still love you now.”
“You’re going to make it difficult, I know you are.”
“No, I won’t. I promise. I just want to be with you. I’ve already lost six years. You’re not going to push me away again, are you?”
“I’ve never stopped caring about you, but I’m not leaving Mike.”
“I’m not asking you to. Look, let’s just take it one day at a time. Ok?”
“Ok, fine. Look, I gotta go. My 11 o’clock is here.”
“Can I see you later, then?”
“Ummm...Sure.”
“What will you tell him?”
“We’re still not talking and he left a note on my briefcase this morning saying he was going out tonight.”
“Ok, I’ll pick you up from work at around six, then.”
“Ok...Ohhh...And Sophie?”
“Yes, sweetie?”
“I’m glad you called. I can’t wait to see you tonight.”
“I’m glad too. We’ve got some years to catch up on...I’ll see you later. I love you sweetie.”
“Love you more.”

My Bronxgiving Weekend

The very first holiday away from home and it's my absolute favorite one! Thanksgiving is the only time in the year that I can eat all I want and not feel terrible. A few weeks before the day, I had a few choices to make...Where would I go? I could have gone home for a few days, but at what expense? I could have stayed in DC and cooked a great meal, but for who? I could go to NYC and spend the holiday surrounded by a few friends. I decided on the third option. I packed a bag along with all the ingredients for my famous peach cobbler and off I was towards what could possibly be a new tradition for me.

The drive was quiet and beautiful. Passing through Baltimore and into New Jersey showed off the eastcoast autumn leaves on the trees in bright reds and yellows. Although the turnpikes were plentiful. I felt that we passed a toll booth every half an hour with exits labeled with numbers instead of names of streets. Everyone seemed to be leaving the city and here I was driving into it with a calm that I did not think I would have on such a day. I was sure that I would miss everything about being at home. I knew that Thai was already up with putting the turkey in the oven. The house smelling of spices, sweet potatoes, and melting butter. I thought of them, but my heart did not ache to be there as much as I thought it would.

I get into the city by early afternoon and await my friends arrival to pick me up. He lives in the Bronx and I was excited to see his new place. As I sat and waited in Union Square, I looked around and noticed that the city was still very busy with lots of people out and most of the stores still open. I thought to myself how unaffected this city was with this holiday where I was constantly thinking of my family back home and worrying that I would be lonely. As I breathed in the crisp air, I knew that the energy pulsating in the streets of NYC will make it impossible for me to feel lonely.

With the arrival of one of my best friends, we were off to the Bronx via the 6 train. It was great to see a familiar face. I began to feel more comfortable and then loosened up a bit. The jokes and laughs came out soon after. Looking at him calmed me. Thanksgiving was a success! There was only five of us, but we cooked for about fifteen! A 20 pound turkey...mashed potatoes, mac-n-cheese, stuffing, spinach casserole, yams, and of course cornbread! We ate and ate and ate! Tackling the sales pages of the newspaper to see where we would shop the next day was next. A stream of storytelling, newpaper articles and hours of mindless television later I was getting ready for bed.

I woke up the next morning with every intention of going into the city and exploring. I even had a lunch date. As I walked outside, a brush of the 32 degree air gushed towards me and I knew then that I wouldn't go that far. My first concern was the hunger I felt, so I walked around the block a bit in search of something to eat. The neighborhood was nearly all residential, with a few markets sprinkled within. Admiring the buildings while walking, I finally found a place. I sat and watched people from the restaurant. Even in this part of town where there were nothing but brick homes and parked cars, the people still seemed to be in a rush to be somewhere. I guess the cold can give a pep to anyone's step as it did mine. Just an hour after leaving the house, I was back in the warmth and comfort of his room. Television was my company until he came home. With drinks in tow, I knew that the night would be spent indoors which I was grateful for. "Pour me a shot!"

The next couple of days happened the same as this. Intentions to go into the city took a backseat to walking around the Bronx. I wanted to know the different areas of NY without just saying that I was in Time Square. Who hasn't? The different bourroughs were more interesting. Plus, the walking around gave us time to talk to each other and catch up. We visited the South Bronx where the soul of true hiphop lingered in the streets. It was an amazing feeling to be there. On 116th is the tightest boutique called Everything Must Go. I wanted almost everything in the store. Thanks for the hook! Then lastly, we visited an upcoming area called Parkchester. The neighborhood is full of people and great places to eat and shop. At night we visited a few neighborhood bars and kept close to home.

By the end of the weekend, I was pretty familiar with this part of NY. I was proud of myself. I had a relaxing time with a great friend and by the time I was on my way back to DC, I knew that I had made the right decision in coming to NY for this holiday. Although I was a bit anxious to sleep in my own bed again, I knew that these last 4 days would sustain me until I can go home for the next big holiday.

Seasons Change

After a lingering summer and a few days of rain and humidity, the Fall Season is upon us in the nation's capitol. I woke up to a brisk Monday morning this week feeling energized because of the time change. I am ready to start the new week. As I wait for the G2 bus at the end of my block, I noticed the trees. The leaves on the trees have changed from a dark green to a mixture of yellowish-orange. The air smells fresh and crisp as I take a deep breath in through my nose. It makes me smile. I can't believe I am witnessing the seasons change. In the Bay Area, there was one straight season for the whole year, which is all the seasons combined. The rain comes in waves and then there are days and days of sunshine. My wardrobe is definitely one from California; no jacket thicker than a track-jacket from A&F. Those that have been in D.C. through a few winters laugh at the sight of my thin sweaters as if they could ever keep me warm. As a slight wind blows my way, I begin to feel the chill. The feeling is a different kind of cold. It's a kind of cold that makes me wonder if I shouldn't have put on another layer or two. The fur-lined boots are now a necessity rather than a fashion statement. My smile slowly disappears. I mentioned the cold to a co-worker and she said, "Get ready, this is just the beginning." This worried me a bit, but take small comfort in knowing that I'm not in the northeast or the mid-west where is apparently can be 20 degrees below zero. INSANE! I know that the Bay Area is not the O.C., but the coldest I've ever felt was maybe 40 degrees, whereas it is in the high 40s here now and I am already complaining. What have I gotten myself into? Whose great idea was it to move here anyway? Oh yeah, it was mine!

Happy Halloween!

Hi All!

Happy Halloween!

I'm unsure what I'm going to get into tonight since I have the entire night free. Of the three parties that I have been invited to, all include some great idea for a costume, but I am feeling lazy so I could stay home and make dinner with a bottle of Virginia's best vino and pass out candy to the kids in the neighborhood. I'm still deciding...My friend Pam is really pushing me to go to a party at a bar in Adams Morgan that apparently will give you all you can drink for only $5! As tempting as that sounds, I know that tomorrow I will be working a 10-hour day, so waking up with a hangover doesn't sound very "grown-up", because let's face it, $5 and all you can drink is an invite for public drunkeness. I'm on the fence about this.

I'll let you know which I decided on tomorrow!

Writing about Ms. Austen

Anyone who knows me, know how I feel about the late great Ms. Jane Austen. It started as a prerequisite to getting my Bachelor of Arts in English Literature from San Francisco State University and ended with my agressive passion for 19th Century literature and most of all the lovely Ms. Jane. She was an extraordinary woman who understood herself and those around her. Her perception of 19th Century life and the roles people had to abide by is fascinating. She knew what was expected of her, but chose to take her life as her own. She did as her mind and heart wanted and not what her family or society wanted. Before I start to babble, I'll get to the point of this blog entry...
A friend of mine sent me a book that she thought I would enjoy...a novel by LaurieViera Rigler called Confessions of a Jane Austen Addict. I got the package on a Friday and with the first opening of the book, I was halfway through by Saturday morning. This Laurie Viera Rigler read right into my imagination of wondering what it would be like to be a 21st Century girl in a 19th Century world. She captures the feelings and essence of wonder and amazement at the priorities of the family in which the character has awaken to. There is one passage that I have to share with you all...The main character, Courtney, is describing her love for Jane Austen in a way that takes the very words out of my mouth. Courtney feels as I do about Jane; a mixture of admiration and anxiety...Read it here....

"I am too afraid of exposing myself to such a literary group, who would no doubt think me unworthy because my entree to Austen was via Colin Firth prancing around in tight pants for the BBC. So what if I ran out and bought all the novels and read every single one before I saw another adaptation. A woman with a Jane Austen action figurem still in the box no less (because the box is the best part), would surely be shunned by such scholarly folk."
Chapter 11, Page 65

Although I do not have the action figure, the thought that I could get my hands on one is tempting enough for me to get on E-Bay. This quote confirmed in me that I was not the only one who does not deem herself an expert of Literature, but has an amazing adoration for Austen and her writing. LONG LIVE The Jane Austen Addicts!

HELLA

Hella:

A multi-purpose word invented by people in north california, indigenous to the Bay Area.

Adjective: To describe a lot of something or something good.

Noun: A lot of

Adverb: Suplemental, inferrs a great quantity or that you're doing something and DOING IT RIGHT!

Interjection: An affirmation of what someone just said

Adjective: This party is hella chill.

Noun: I have hella.

Adverb: The Bay areais fuckin hella better than socal

Interjection: Nicole: Dude that shit was off tha hook
Jaime: hella!

Skinny Jeans

So I have always been against the "skinny jean", thinking that only really skinny people could benefit from them. Being a woman with a bit more meat on her legs and behind, I felt like I'd look a mess with them on. I stand corrected. In the first week of my being in D.C. I went to Georgetown to do some shopping. I came across a pair of these infamous "skinny jeans", looked at the tag and low and behold...It was my size. I thought this to be a joke at first because no way could my frame fit in these jeans. In the spirit of trying new things and being in a different city, I took the jeans into the dressing room and tried them on. It was a bit of a struggle, but supposedly they are hard to put on no matter what size you are. I walked out of the dressing room and looked in the full-length mirror. I LIKED THEM! They looked tight and restricting, but felt oddly comfortable. I walked around the store a bit and decided on doing the very thing that just a week ago, I would never have done...I bought a pair of skinny jeans. After having worn them now a few times, I realize that they have become one of my favorite pairs of jeans. The more I squeeze into them, the more comfortable they feel to me. I have converted and now am a part of the "skinny jean" club. All those who object as I once did, please just try one on...It'll change your life!