Don't Ask My Neighbor Read online

  I had lost track of time filling Felicia in on my devastation. The look on her face confirmed that, regardless of what she knew about Samantha, she didn’t know this.

  “Vengeance is mine, said the Lord. But I’m sure he won’t mind if we handle this one on our own. What do you think, Felicia?” I questioned.

  “After what she did to you, I don’t think he would mind at all,” Felicia reassured. “Anyway, it’s His duty to forgive. We’ll make it our duty that her lies and her secrets are wrapped tightly around her neck.”

  Felicia stood from the chair, holding what was left of her coffee and finished the last bit. She looked down at me as if she were trying to decide if I could be trusted. Of course, she already knew the answer to that.

  “I’ll tell you this, and you can do whatever you please with the information.”

  She wrapped her scarf around her neck, and tossed her blue leather shoulder bag over her left arm.

  “She’s usually in the office late on Thursdays. Jelani is always gone by 3:30, don’t ask me why.”

  “And why are you telling me this?”

  “Vengeance is yours, my friend,” she leaned over and whispered. “You’ll be seeing me again. Until then, you’ve never met me.”

  “Thanks for breakfast, Kennalyn.”

  She winked, turned, and walked out of the café.

  Nineteen

  __________

  I Don’t Owe You Anything

  Kennalyn

  SOMETIMES IT’S OK TO LISTEN TO your heart. It may be risky, but take that leap of faith. There was only one problem with the advice that came from my heart. It was speaking from both sides of its mouth, and I was content listening to the side that told me I needed to focus on fucking her up. Unfortunately, that included ignoring the side that said good things about falling in love with someone like Campbell.

  I watched him from the pane on the side of the door. He leaned forward and rang the doorbell again. He looked up as if I were going to stick out my head from some second floor window and yell for him to come up or toss him a set of keys so he could let himself in. Why had he shown up? He had the privilege of being the first man I’d met after my divorce from Gage. The only problem was, Felicia had met him first.

  Campbell was persistent, if nothing else. I’ve ignored his subtle flirtatious gestures, pretending not to see his reflection in the gym mirrors. Sometimes I’ve forgotten that I was supposed to be disregarding him, and instead I admired him from the corners of my eyes as he concentrated on lifting weights that never seemed too heavy for him. My twenty or twenty-five pound dumbbells I often worked out with were no match to the heavy weights he lifted without effort. His hard body glistened from perspiration that seemed to appear the moment his workout began. His white t-shirt clung to chest muscles I’ve fantasized about resting my head on, or kissing his nipples during moments of passion on more than one occasion. He licked his lips seductively when he was sure my stare was directed at him, and secretly peeked at his abs in the mirror when he thought no one paid him attention, though I was sure he did this because he thought all eyes were on him. He was vain, but his vanity, for whatever reason, was an attractive quality, not that in-your-face arrogance that can become too overwhelming. I’ve afforded him the opportunity to check me out, too, as I strut my stuff on a run to nowhere on the treadmill before starting my training session. The one thing that has secretly attracted me to Campbell was the very thing that had kept me closed off from him, avoiding his advances whenever we had our run-ins.

  Campbell Bates was tall, brown, and lean, with the most mesmerizing hazel eyes. His nose flared almost the width of his mouth, but looked perfect on his face. He smiled only with his top lip, revealing a row of milky-white teeth and a deep dimple in his right cheek, inches away from the corner of his mouth. His lips were the perfect shade of light pink. He was a good catch, even by my standards. The thought of wrapping my long, curvy Monica-like legs around his waist and feeling him thrust his hard, slippery-wet manhood deeper and deeper inside my soft place never exactly left my mind.

  I was drained from my day at work, and even more exhausted from my workout with my personal trainer, Oto. After I finished devoting my time to finalizing my divorce from Gage, I joined the local Results Gym, and spent two days a week and one weekend day there, while Alexis and Cody were at practice for their respective seasonal sports. I didn’t need to lose weight or anything like that, just wanted to keep my body healthy. I wasn’t one for New Year resolutions, either, so it wasn’t a part of some decree that wouldn’t last farther than the first month of the new year. It was June, and I was still enjoying sweating it out at the gym.

  I had just tossed my gym bag in the trunk of the car when Campbell came up behind me in a light jog.

  “Kennalyn,” he called out, breathing heavily.

  It wouldn’t be a bad idea if he would spend some time on a treadmill or an elliptical. It would work wonders for his stamina. I closed the trunk, pressed the unlock button on the automatic car door opener, and began to walk toward the door on the driver side of the car.

  “I haven’t seen you here in a couple of visits. How have you been?” Campbell continued.

  I leaned against the car and thought before responding to him. I spent the next five or ten minutes explaining to Campbell why he hadn't seen me in the gym in the last two weeks. Of course, that reason, not that I owed him one, couldn’t be farther from the truth. I expounded on the fact that I had been busy, that my work in the field had taken time away from all the things that would make my life normal, with the exception of my children, of course. I didn’t know whether or not Campbell believed me; quite frankly, I didn’t care that much. The truth is, I had been in the gym, watching him under a carefully created disguise. It worked.

  “Why don't you let me take you to dinner?" Campbell asked.

  Still leaning against the car, I stared at my feet before responding. The last time he extended me a dinner invitation was supposed to have been the last time he was going to ask me out if I’d said no, and, of course, I did, but there he was, again, asking that same question. Like I said, he was nothing, if not consistent. He was consistently asking me out, consistently hearing the same response, and consistently hoping that my response the next time he asked would differ from the last.

  "I just don't have the time right now," I said, pulling the handle on the car door, and positioning myself comfortably in the seat.

  “What’s the rush? Have I said something that offended you?” Campbell asked, though he was sure he hadn’t.

  "It’s nothing like that. I haven't been home all day, and I need to get out of these gym clothes.”

  “So, how about it? Have dinner with me on Saturday? I’ll even pick you up,” he asked again, with a weak laugh.

  I pulled the car door closed, pressed the button to start the engine, and then pressed another to let down the driver-side window.

  "Dinner on Saturday," I said with a smile. "But I'll meet you."

  Campbell winked, and then turned toward the gym. After trying for months to convince me to go out with him, against my better judgment, I had finally agreed. I smiled at his persistence. On Saturday I met Campbell for dinner, and when the night was over, I told him I couldn’t see him again.

  The doorbell rang again and brought me back to the first question I hadn’t yet found the answer to: Why was he here?

  I opened the door slowly. He stood with his back toward the door and both hands in his pockets. Maybe he thought I wasn’t home and was preparing to walk away. Damn! I thought. If I’d just waited one more minute.

  “Campbell,” I called out, getting his attention.

  He turned, removing his hands from his pockets. They hung at his sides until he covered his mouth with his right, as if it was about to deliver some horrible news he was finding a hard time believing himself. The look on his face was serious, but I remained untroubled by his presence. He stared at me, sizing me up.

  “Aren’t y
ou going to invite me in?”

  “Why are you here?”

  “For God sake, it’s not exactly warm out here, Kennalyn.”

  “I’m sure you knew that before you decided to show up here unannounced, and also uninvited,” I said, leaving the door open and walking away from him.

  I thought he would respond, but he remained quiet. I sat in the living room on the platform in front of the fireplace and leaned against the stoned wall. Campbell stood just inside the living room.

  “You don’t trust too many people, do you?” Campbell began.

  I laughed.

  “I’m glad you find it amusing, but I wasn’t telling a damn joke,” he continued.

  I looked at him as if he was crazy, and he quickly recanted his statement.

  “See, that’s a funny word, trust. My kids, I trust. But when it comes to husbands and best friends, I don’t have a trusting bone in my body.”

  “Do I look like him?”

  “Who?” I asked, looking at my watch.

  Gage called while I was at work and left a message asking if he could have Cody and Alexis for the night. They were celebrating Leandra’s sixty-second birthday one night earlier so they could be home watching the presidential returns like everyone else on election night. I’d forgotten the old bat’s birthday was in November. I got along with Leandra for the children’s sake, while I forced a quasi-cordial relationship with Gage, also for the children, and it took a lot out of me to establish that. I’d given him the usual warnings when I returned his call: pick them up on time—I didn’t want my babies to have to wait on him—make sure they get something to eat and complete their homework, and keep them away from your bitch. Of course, he hung up before I could complete my last instruction.

  “Come on, Kennalyn,” Campbell said, walking closer to me. “I saw you today, except that I didn’t see you.”

  “And that doesn’t sound confusing to you?” I looked at him with puzzled eyes.

  “Why don’t you tell me what’s going on?” he pleaded.

  “Because there’s nothing to tell.”

  I tried to remain calm and unbothered by his questions and accusations, but the more he talked, the more I felt my blood reaching its boiling point.

  “It wasn’t you that I saw on the metro, in disguise, trying hard not to look at me? I’ve seen that person at the gym, at the same time that I didn’t see you. And just like you did on the train this morning, you dodged me, avoided eye contact, as if telling me what was happening would put a dent in some illustrious plan you’ve concocted. After what we had, can’t you tell me one simple truth?”

  I knew what I said next was going to hurt him, but I wanted to protect him. I knew how vindictive Samantha could be, and she would have no problem going after my right hand man, my left hand man, and everyone in between. I was sure Campbell believed he was man enough to handle Samantha’s retaliation, but you could never be ready for her wrath.

  “After what we had?”

  I laughed.

  “Let’s call what we had exactly what it was: nothing. We had a few dates, a couple nights together, and you think that constitutes…”

  I paused, stood, and stared at him.

  “A relationship?”

  “I know you’re saying those words to purposely hurt me, Kennalyn. But it looks like you’re the one still in agony. You’re pushing me away and shutting me out. This has everything to do with Gage, doesn’t it?”

  I kept staring at him, and allowed him to have his soapbox moment. My response meant nothing because he already had all the answers.

  “What you’re doing is not going to bring your ex-husband back. It’s not going to bring you back to that night you said your world collapsed.”

  “Okay, that’s it,” I said, walking toward the kitchen, and like I knew he would, he followed behind me.

  In the kitchen I removed one of the opened bottles of wine from the cooler and an extra tall wine glass from the shelf. In silence, Campbell watched me filling the glass, and I emptied half of it before I even thought about saying another word to him. Wine was such a good remedy. True, I had intentionally pushed him away, but I had only planned on pushing him far enough where he was still in my reach when this humiliation of Samantha was over. Yes, I was taking a risk, but it was one I was willing to take. I held the glass in my hand and then slowly returned it to the counter.

  It was obvious Campbell had given some thought about my distance from him. Usually when he asked me about my day at work, he was always given a one-word response. With him, I wasn’t one of those women who wanted her boyfriend to sit and listen to her rant about all the things that could go wrong with her day at work. Hell, I like it much better when he didn’t ask, because I didn’t want to lie to him. As much as I was dismissing him now, I never wanted to lie to him.

  “What’s it, Kennalyn?” Campbell said, grabbing my hand. “Whatever it is, I can help you.”

  “I don’t need your help.” I removed my hand from his.

  “So you’re willing to lose everything because of your fixation to what, get even?”

  “I’ve already,” I began. “You know what, never mind.”

  I shook my head and started toward the front door. I knew my treatment of Campbell tonight might have some consequences we probably wouldn’t be able to overcome, but I prayed that wasn’t true.

  “You’ve already what?”

  “Campbell, I think you need to leave.”

  I held the door open, but he paused before proceeding.

  “I’m not going to argue with your request.”

  He walked toward the door with a downward gaze. He stopped before he got outside. He turned and smiled at me.

  “Is this where we say it was fun while it lasted?”

  “We’ll talk, Campbell.”

  “Don’t bother,” he said.

  Campbell left without even bidding me a good night, and the way I acted, the way I’ve been acting, I can’t say I blamed him. This wasn’t the way I expected to end my Monday night. I was in the house by myself, and I actually felt alone. Because of Samantha, I was willing to gamble with my relationship with Campbell. I still had to get up early the next morning and exercise my right to vote. This was going to be a very long night.

  I walked back to the kitchen and finished what was left in the glass and then poured it full again, emptying what remained in the bottle. I walked upstairs to the bedroom, carrying my last glass, trying to push all the thoughts from my mind. In the bathroom, I turned on the faucet, sat on the side of the tub with my head tilted back, and waited for the tub to fill. I was ready to submerge my body in a bed of magnolia, velvet, and honey, and somehow forget about everything that transpired with Campbell tonight.

  Twenty

  ________

  I Just Want It To Be Over

  Kennalyn

  CAMPBELL’S VISIT AND TUESDAY’S ELECTION WAS probably all the excitement I needed for this week, but I still had to face Samantha for a few more days, and there was no telling with her. I shared the excitement of re-electing incumbent President Obama with Alex and Cody, just as I had done four years earlier, braving the thirty-degree weather to add my say in making history, for a second time. I stayed up late, and even allowed the kids to stay up past their 8:30 p.m. bedtime, to watch the results. Of course, they were out cold before his victory was announced. They fell asleep next to me, and I didn’t bother to wake them to escort them to their rooms. It was nice to have company.

  I woke up Wednesday morning, mad that I had deprived myself of sleep, though I had good reason. I stood in the mirror staring at puffy, red eyes—nothing a warm compress and eye drops couldn’t take care of. I needed more hours. Unfortunately, no one had figured it out, but I was in total agreement that the weekend should always be three days, and the day after the election and the Super Bowl should be a national holiday. Talk about wishful thinking.

  It didn’t take long to find the energy I needed to go through the day dealing wit
h the likes of Samantha Wells all day. Sometimes, I felt I needed Vicodin or Percocet just to get through my relations with her. She was a stench I just couldn’t stomach, and at the end of the day, I wondered how the hell others did it. This was the punishment I chose in order to enact the perfect vendetta. The bitch had to pay.

  I drove to work in a light rain, mentally preparing myself for another battle with Samantha. I was all ready to deal with her less than ingratiating personality, but for some peculiar reason, the woman who greeted me when I entered her office was someone unfamiliar to me, though it didn’t take long to conclude it was all a pretense. Her smile was much wider than usual, and she didn’t have the same stink attitude she was always dressed up in. I watched her interaction with Parker, and even that had a certain oddity to it. I had my ideas about what could have caused this sudden change, but asking her was out of the question. I didn’t want to give her the slightest idea that I gave a damn. Something about her didn’t sit right with me and, for the day, I kept my distance. I didn’t give her the chance to grind my face in her happiness, but sooner or later, I’m sure she would take it.

  After work, I drove to the nearest bookstore. I needed an escape, or at least something to keep me occupied while I prepared dinner and waited for Cody and Alex to be dropped off from their practices. Tonight I had something simple in mind: Blackened Salmon with Blue Cheese Sauce. Tonight I would be making my favorite. It didn’t take long to find what sounded like a page-turner, from what I read in the synopsis. I walked to the front of the store and stood at the back of a line that was already five people deep. My eyes scanned the first few pages.