Playing Hard To Get

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The Check-Up: At the next meeting, go through the list to see who has put action behind words. Did you find the dance teacher and save $30? Did your bestie pay one of her speeding tickets so she can get her driver’s license back? Did your sisterfriend reapply to take the LSAT so she can finally go to law school? Did Kim lose just one pound? Celebrate the small victories with a round of drinks and applause. Discuss the shortcomings with others to find out where they went wrong and how you can help. Set a list of new short-term goals, date it, and organize another short-term check-up.

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The Check-Out: One pound a week can equal fifty-two pounds lost in one year! Taking the LSAT, researching schools, applying, and getting accepted can lead to a future lawyer. Paying tickets one by one will surely add up to a returned license. A class, a competition, and a trophy can make you the next ballroom dancing star. After a few short-term meetings, have a final, preplanned check-out date where the long-term goal is to be completed. The sisterfriend who has come closest to achieving her goal is the Queen Bee and must be crowned and celebrated with awe. A most luxurious gift and kind words should mark the occasion. This sister has worked hard, so don’t be cheap or short on praise. Other sisters should be happy too, though. While they aren’t yet Queen Bees, they’ve done something about getting closer to making their dreams a reality, and one more competition could put them on top.

3

Well-behaved women seldom make history.

—Laurel Thatcher Ulrich

Though she was only two years old, Toni was fast learning Ulrich’s abovementioned astute observation. When she cried, Tasha looked upset and usually left her alone. When she hollered, Lionel looked heartbroken, and usually picked her up and held her close. For her, this pattern of events provided the two things she wanted most—to be away from her mother and alone with her father. It was emotional ecstasy—two-year-old style. And while her brain hadn’t yet processed how she’d make this daily achievement a part of a permanent history, she was well on her way to developing a concrete plan.

However, one little girl behaving badly seldom topped a big girl behaving badly, and especially not when it came to the big girl’s man.

The morning after the Queen Bee Competition went into official 3T effect, Tasha had one thing on her mind—taking her husband on a date and having mistress-worthy sex with him (while on the date). And no amount of crying and hollering on the part of a little girl was going to stop her.

Toni’s shenanigans started in the morning when she overheard Tasha on the phone arranging an afternoon visit from Milania, a seventeen-year-old babysitter who lived a few houses down. She remembered what happened when her mother said the name “Milania” and understood the word “come.” Eating chopped bananas her father fed her with a silver spoon, Toni knew this meant one thing—he was leaving her. But he’d just gotten back. And they hadn’t taken a nap on the hammock in the backyard like they always did after playtime in the pool. She hadn’t smelled his spicy cologne and felt his heart beating in her ear as she drifted off to sleep.

Soon, Toni was crying, screaming, hollering, choking, and wailing on the floor.

Soon, Milania had arrived, was handed a wide-eyed Tiara, and was left standing beside Toni’s tearstained face.

Soon, Tasha was pushing Lionel into the car and pulling out of the driveway.

“We can’t just leave her like that,” Lionel said, turning and looking at the house as his wife drove up the street. “What if she doesn’t stop?”

“It’s a tantrum. She has them.” Tasha’s voice was flat, focused. Her eyes were locked on the rolling pavement.

“But she was choking and what if—”

“Baby, trust me. She’ll be fine.”

“I just feel bad. Coming home and leaving her alone. Maybe we should’ve waited and done this tomorrow—after I spend some time with the girls.”

“You have to be at practice tomorrow morning, remember?”

Lionel nodded sadly. He’d spent so much time away from his daughters practicing when he was at home, and when he went away, only for three or four days, and returned, he noticed something different, new about them. Tiara could grab his key chain. Toni had learned a new way of laughing at the old game of peekaboo.

“Look, honey,” Tasha said, “I just want to go to the spa to relax a little bit and unwind. I want to spend time with you. We can put the girls to bed together tonight. How does that sound?”

Lionel looked at Tasha.

“Okay,” he agreed. “Okay.”

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Lionel and Tasha held hands throughout their massages. They winked and grinned like teenagers as they stole glimpses of each other’s oiled, nude bodies being touched by petite ladies with large hands. The dizzying scent of lavender filled the air and hot stones dissipated every care from their bodies. Soon, as the masseuses crept from the room, they were asleep, but still holding hands. Tasha dreamed of her husband on top of her and he dreamed of his wife on top of him. Together bodily in this world, and united mentally in another time, it was the most intimate they’d been in over a year. When he woke up, he found her asleep, her arms and legs splayed on the leather table, the thick white towel slipping away. He let it fall to the floor and threw his on top of it. Tasha’s nipples were hardened and facing the ceiling as she continued to dream. Lionel wrapped her legs around his head and consumed his wife in this world and in another time. She shook and writhed, calling his name so loud a collection of masseuses and clients had gathered outside the door. “How much is the couple’s massage?” one woman asked. She already had her husband on the phone.

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“I fucking love you,” Tasha joked, sipping on cucumber water beside the indoor pool at the spa. She and Lionel were wrapped in thick, white terry-cloth robes.

“I’m sorry about the other night. It was just…I was stressed out and tired. You know I would’ve—”

“No, ba