Another Time, Another Place

pussy.” So sad, but it makes me appreciate the serenity of my relationship with Keith. One thing is for sure, we get along great. No arguments here, except, well, you know, pencil dick, but of course, I can’t tell him that. I just hope Q doesn’t screw up things between Keith and me.

I arrive home and Keith greets me with a hug and kiss as usual. I watch his behavior and demeanor. He seems the same. Hopefully, Q passed on telling him anything. I walk into the kitchen and he informs me that there’s a Boston Market chicken Caesar salad in the fridge for me. I take it out and sit with him at the kitchen table as he finishes his meatloaf with three sides.

“So, how was your day, Connie?”

“Good, how was yours?”

“I’ve had better. Negotiations didn’t go well with an artist today. But, I have another potential I’m checking out tonight at the Pit. Do you want to come with me? He’s supposed to be real good.”

“Sure, sweetie. I’ll go with you anywhere.”

“Is that right?” The look he gives me makes me feel a little uncomfortable, so I excuse myself from the table to get a glass of white Zin and pull my act together. I return to my seat a bit more composed.

“What time do I need to be ready?”

“Eight. Show starts at nine. He’s the first emcee.”

“Okay. Eight, it is.”

He excuses himself from the table and goes to watch TV. I finish my salad and then join Keith in the family room on our favorite sectional. I like resting with him at the end of my day. I snuggle under his arm with my legs curled to my side. He touches my thigh, and I react oddly, immediately rising to my feet, alarming him.

“What’s wrong with you?” he asks, looking bewildered.

“I, uh, I, uh, need to go to the bathroom. I think my cycle just started.”

“Oh, you act like something major is wrong.”

Shit! How could I forget I’m not wearing any panties? I’ve gotta be more careful. I race upstairs, strip down to my natural birthday suit and proceed to the shower. Just as I’m about to step into the warm oasis, Keith turns the corner, reaches into the shower and turns off the water.

“Come here,” he says, taking my hand and leading me to the bedroom. I quickly grab my towel.

“Sit down.” He points to the California King bed and I sit my towel-wrapped body on the white goose-down comforter and say nothing. I wait to see where this is going.

“Connie, are we cool?”

“Yeah. Why?” I make an extremely puzzled expression to pretend he has asked a silly question.

“Everything is everything, right?”

“Right. Keith, what’s up? Why are you questioning me?”

He says nothing for a moment and an awkward pause fills the air.

“I’m your man, right?”

Holy mother of Mary, where did that come from? Remain calm and answer the question, I think.

“Of course, sweetie. Don’t be silly.” His intense, concerned expression is anything but silly.

He looks right into my eyes and says, “Remember that shit.”

Then he stands and walks away. I reach for him and purposely let my towel drop. If I’m lucky, I’ll cloud his judgment with the sight of my cocoa, fine ass.

“Keith, what’s gotten into you? You are my man.” I press my naked body against his chest and wrap my arms around his waist.

“What’s this I hear about you riding with some nigga from work? Don’t I give you everything you need?”

“Yes.”