The Sisters of APF

  Patricia smacked her lips in disgust. “I just wanted to introduce her around. How can they discuss someone they’ve never met?”

  I sat down at my vanity and applied another coat of mocha lipstick. My first coat was out there somewhere on a wine glass.

  “Olive, it’s not like this is freak night,” Patricia protested. “There’s not a dick in the house.”

  I looked at her reflection in the mirror. “That’s not the point and you know it. Besides, from what I’ve seen so far, that chica’s scared of her own shadow, much less a dick.”

  Patricia giggled again, irritating me all the more. “I’m telling you that Mary Ann has potential. She just needs to loosen up a bit. She’s not too keen on strangers.”

  “So what’s she supposed to do on freak nights?” I asked sarcastically. “Shiver under the covers?”

  “See, now you’re being damn ridiculous!” Patricia hissed at me. “APF may not be the right thing for her. I’ll concede that much, but I’d like to nominate her anyway. There’s only one way to find out whether she’s down or not.”

  “You’re forgetting one thing,” I swiftly reminded her. “Our membership is closed. We voted to keep the D.C. membership to an even dozen. Remember?”

  “Let’s make it a baker’s dozen then.”

  My PID flared up again. “Miss Hee Haw isn’t APF material and that’s the bottom freakin’ line!”

  Patricia slammed the magazine shut and threw it down on my black satin bedspread. “They all said the same thing about me at first but you fought tooth and nail to get me inducted.”

  She had a valid point but that was a totally different situation. When I first met Patricia at an art gallery opening, I knew she was APF material from jump street. “That’s because I sensed something remarkable about you.”

  “Well, I sense something remarkable about Mary Ann.”

  I ran a brush through my good hair and smudged my eyebrow pencil in a little better. “I can’t imagine what.”

  “You’ve spent all of two minutes with her.” Patricia got up off the bed, walked over to me, picked up the brush off the vanity and started brushing my hair for me. “Give her a chance. That’s all I’m asking. For me. Please!”

  She knew that little puppy dog pout always lured me in. I could never deny her anything. After all, she was my masterpiece. “Okay, fine! I’ll go out there and see what she’s talking about, where her head is, but I’m not promising anything.”

  “I understand.” Patricia beamed, glad I had given in. “Thanks, soror!”

  “Hmph, all I can say is this: You better not show up at our little soiree in a couple of weeks with the chicken farm queen in tow, or else.”

  “Or else what?”

  “You’ll find out.” I tried to sound serious but almost cracked a smile.

  “Aw, save your idle threats, Olive. You might stress some people out but you could never intimidate me.” She put the brush back down and finished up her styling with her fingers. I had to admit Patricia could work wonders with a do and skipping my six o’clock hair appointment had suddenly become a feasible option. “Underneath that fire-and-ice exterior, I know you’re just a puddy cat.”

  I got up from my vanity bench. “Let’s just go back out to check on the others. I bet they’re being so quiet, you can hear the kitchen faucet dripping.”

  “Thanks for giving Mary Ann a chance.” Patricia gave me a huge bear hug and I was hoping she wouldn’t mess up my do after she just hooked it up. “She’s smart, she’s attractive, and she has an extremely bright future in front of her.”

  “Yeah, and she’s also from South Dakota,” I stated with an edge of sarcasm in my voice. We walked back out into the living room and all the sorors looked shell-shocked while Miss Hee Haw was in the dining room piling celery sticks and blue cheese dressing on one of my fine china plates. “See, I told you they’d be pissed off over this.”

  “Just call the meeting to order,” Patricia whispered in my ear.

  Patricia

  “Sorry about that.” I joined Mary Ann at the dining room table and picked up a plate of my own. “I had to talk to Olive about something right quick. You having a good time?”

  I could tell by the expression on Mary Ann’s face that she wasn’t. “Actually, I was thinking about waiting for you in the car. I don’t fit in here. That’s obvious.”

  “Yes you do.” I found Olive’s buffalo wings, my favorite, and put six of them on my plate. One thing about Olive: The sistah can put a hurting on some food. “You’re here with me. Thus, you fit in. Just relax.”

  “I get the impression they don’t want me here. No one said a word to me the entire time you were in the bedroom. They’ve just been in there staring at me and whispering to each other.”

  “Don’t worry about it.” No sooner had I responded than Olive called the meeting to order. I took Mary Ann’s hand and led her into the living room. “Let’s just have a seat.”

  The meeting went well, all things considered. While none of the sorors acknowledged each other by their names, real or imagined, we managed to get some business done and our investment portfolio was up three percent from the previous month.

  Olive kept staring across the room at Mary Ann, undoubtedly sizing up her APF potential. Without question, Mary Ann was uncomfortable, but I wanted her there just the same. In time, I knew she would win them all over if they only gave her the opportunity.

  After the official business was over, the sorors cleared out of there like women headed to the day-after-Thanksgiving sale at Best Buy. The entire place was empty in a matter of seconds, leaving just Olive, Mary Ann, and me gazing at each other in silence.

  “So, Mary Ann, you go to school with Patricia?” Olive’s voice was full of disdain. “She says you’re very smart.”

  “Yes, she and I live in the same dorm,” Mary Ann replied hesitantly.

  “How long have you been in D.C.?”

  “Just a couple of months.”

  “How do you like it?”

  “I have enjoyed myself so far. Patricia has been kind enough to show me around.”

  Olive threw a look at me that I couldn’t quite make out the origin of and then continued with her interview. That’s exactly what she was up to, interviewing Mary Ann for APF without her even suspecting it.

  “I understand you’re from South Dakota?”

  “Yes, born and raised,” Mary Ann stated proudly. I had noticed she didn’t seem as ashamed of her upbringing as she was when I first met her. “I love the country. I won tons of medals in the junior rodeo competitions.”

  “How impressive,” Olive replied, not meaning it for one second. “There must not be much to do in South Dakota, other than raising chickens, huh?”

  It was Mary Ann who glared at me that time. “I see Patricia has told you a lot about me.”

  “Not really,” Olive replied snidely. “Just where you are from and what your family does for a living.”

  Mary Ann took Olive and me both off guard with her next string of questions. In fact, I almost spit out my wine all over my blouse.

  “I take it the two of you were discussing me in detail in your bedroom? Is that what you needed to talk to Patricia about? Am I not welcome here in your home?”

  I could tell by the way Olive’s mouth frowned up that she was about to cop a serious attitude. “Don’t flatter yourself, chica. You’re of absolutely no importance to me. However, I have to be honest with you. Our investment club meetings are usually handled with a great degree of privacy and I was a bit offended when Patricia showed up with you unexpectedly.”

  Mary Ann stood up and headed for the door. “Patricia, can we please go now?” I stared at Olive, waiting for her to issue an apology. “If not, I’ll just meet you down in the car or I can catch the bus back to campus.” She put her hands on her hips and leered at Olive. “Is there a bus stop around here, Miss High-and-Mighty?”

  Olive jumped to her feet. “What did you just call me?”


  “You heard me!”

  “Look, this is not the day to be fucking with me, all right!” Olive blared. That’s when I knew she must’ve had that daggone PID she was always complaining about. Hakim must’ve been on a business trip. “This is my home and I won’t have you talking to me like that up in here!”

  Yep, it was definitely the PID. She was starting to sound ghetto and Olive hated sounding ghetto. She would only slip when she was sexually frustrated.

  Mary Ann was about to issue a comeback but I jumped all in the mix. “That’s enough, you two.” I walked over to the front door. “Let’s go, Mary Ann. Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea after all.”

  “You can say that again,” Olive sneered at me.

  Mary Ann walked out in the hallway and waited for me. I closed the door just long enough to issue my objections to Olive. “You didn’t have to be so mean!”

  “She copped an attitude first,” Olive whined.

  “No, everything was kosher until you started poking fun at her background. You ought to be ashamed of yourself. You weren’t exactly raised with a silver spoon in your mouth either.” I knew that would get her. As much as she tried to hide it, Olive came from very humble beginnings and was the first person in her family to attend college. “I’m leaving because I don’t want to be rude and leave Mary Ann lingering in the hallway. You and the rest of the sorors have been rude enough.”

  “We’ll continue this discussion later, Patricia.”

  “We damn sure will,” I said, before storming out.

  8

  Mary Ann

  “You know, baby, we’ve been dating for quite some time now?” Trevor commented while we finished up the dinner dishes in his town house.

  “Yes, we have,” I agreed.

  “And I’ve tried to show you how much I care about you.” He dried the last dish and pulled the stopper out of the sink so the water could drain. “Do you believe I care about you?”

  “It seems like you do.” I knew exactly where our conversation was headed. He wanted some sex and I had been holding out on him big time.

  “I do.” He wrapped his strong arms around my waist and flicked his tongue across my lips. “My feelings for you are undeniable.”

  “I care about you too, Trevor.”

  He ran the fingers of his left hand through my hair and then proceeded to lay a long, wet kiss on me. “Enough to finish the feelings?”

  “Trevor, I don’t know what to say.” I really didn’t know what to say. I did want him, but I was afraid that once he got what he wanted, my ass would be history just like all the others.

  “Say that you’ll be with me tonight.” He took my right hand and kissed the inside of my palm. That was one of my weak spots. “That you’ll stay here and wake up tomorrow morning in my arms.”

  “Is that what you really want?” I lovingly gazed up into his eyes.

  “Nothing would make me happier.” He started massaging my shoulders. I’m sure he knew I was nervous. I was always nervous when we discussed sex. “I understand your apprehensions but I can assure you that this is real.”

  “Can we just wait a little while longer?” I pleaded, even though I was more than ready for him to jump my bones. For the previous three weeks or so, I had been masturbating on a daily basis, something I had never done before I met him.

  He took a deep, restorative breath. “If you insist, but I’m a man, Mary Ann. Men have needs.”

  “I recognize that.”

  “I don’t know how much longer I can hold out.”

  “What is that supposed to mean?” I asked with an edge of sarcasm in my voice. “That if I don’t give it up, you’re going to get it elsewhere?”

  “No, that’s not what I meant.” He threw his hands in the air.

  “Then what?” I insisted.

  “Let’s just sit here by the fire and relax.” He guided me into the living room and urged me to sit down on the hearth by his gas fireplace. “You want some more wine?”

  “Yes, please.” He picked up our glasses from the coffee table and went back into the kitchen.

  While he was gone, I debated about the timing. I was sick of missing out on sex. I still harbored some subtle feelings for Clarence, but nothing major. He had written me to apologize about Jessica answering his phone that day, claiming nothing had happened. Bullshit and I knew it. That’s why I refused to return any of his calls or respond to his mail. Trevor was there for me, and while I wasn’t positive his motives were genuine, he’d shown me a good time and taken me places no other man had. Maybe he deserved a little something special in return.

  “Here you go.” He handed me a glass full of red wine and broke my trance.

  “Thanks.”

  He sat down beside me and we started kissing again, this time more heavily. When we came up for air, he contradicted his actions. “I don’t want to pressure you.”

  “Good.” I took a sip of wine and let the jazz music playing on the CD vibrate through my body.

  “If it’s okay with you, can we just sleep together tonight? In my bed?” He started rubbing my knee. I was glad I had on leggings because I assumed he would have moved his hand north if I had had on a dress. He was a little rough when I had let him finger me before, but the feeling was different. I enjoyed it. “We don’t have to do anything. Not unless you want to.”

  “I’ll think about it.” My panties were getting damp and I knew I was on the brink of giving it up. “Can I ask you something?”

  “You can ask me anything you like.”

  “Why are you so infatuated with me?”

  “Honestly?”

  “I asked, didn’t I?”

  “Because of your innocence.”

  I laughed. “My innocence?”

  “Yes. I can tell you’re not very experienced and that turns me on. Men use hoes, they don’t settle down and marry them.”

  “You’re wild.” I laughed.

  “No, just trying to keep it real.” He took my glass and set it down on the hearth along with his and gathered my hands into his, gazing directly into my eyes. “I’m in my last year of law school and some of the top firms in the country are already pursuing me. While many of the offers are tempting, I plan to stay right here in the metropolitan area. It’s my home now.”

  “I like it here too,” I concurred. D.C. had turned out to be much more than I expected. I had even started hanging out at a few nightclubs around town, with and without Trevor. Sometimes I went with Patricia, other times I caught a cab and went by myself. I especially enjoyed reggae clubs. I loved the way people moved their bodies to the music.

  “The way I see it, there is only one vital part of my life missing.” Trevor tightened his grip on my hands. “A good woman. Someone I can take home to my parents in Indiana and be proud to call mine.”

  “And you think I’m that person?”

  “I know you are.” He started kissing my fingertips one at a time. First my left hand and then the right one. “How many men have you ever been with?”

  Part of me wanted to lie, but honesty prevailed. “I’ve only gone all the way with one.”

  “I rest my case.” He chuckled. “I need you in my life. I’m not talking marriage right off the bat. We could wait until you graduate, but I could help to support you and things like that.”

  “I would like that.” I wasn’t sure where I wanted my relationship with Trevor to go but it seemed like the appropriate response at the moment.

  “So will you consider it? Becoming my woman officially?”

  “What about all the women you’ve bedded down?”

  “It’s different for men. Men are expected to sow their wild oats and live a little.”

  Now I was agitated. How unfair of men to think they can sleep with a hundred women and then come down on women who do the same. “So I’m just supposed to overlook all of that?”

  “I can’t change my past, Mary Ann. I can only prepare for the future and my future includes you.”

/>   We sat there by the fire talking for about another hour. When the grandfather clock in his foyer struck midnight, I told Trevor to take me to bed.

  We made love, if that’s what you want to call it. He blew my earlobe. That didn’t turn me on because his breath was kind of tart. He fondled and sucked my breasts for less than a minute before he was trying to get his dick inside of me. I really hadn’t gotten wet yet so he had some problems manuevering it in. He finally managed but once it was in, he came in less than two minutes after yelling out, “Damn, this is some good-ass pussy!” It wasn’t what I had built it up to be in my mind. Not hardly. The foreplay was quick, the actual sex was even quicker, and he was out like a light within thirty minutes. For a man who had been through so many women and had supposedly broken so many hearts, I was totally disappointed. I was expecting him to “blow my mind.”

  As he slept soundly, I lay there with his head buried in my chest, wondering if things would be better the next time. I sure as hell hoped so.

  9

  Mary Ann

  Boy, did Olive Cox and I get off on the wrong foot! All of Patricia’s investment club members seemed to distance themselves from me. It couldn’t have been my country accent because I barely got the chance to open my mouth. Even that sistah Yvette, the one that Patricia introduced me to in the dining hall, wouldn’t give me the time of day.

  I thought about getting Olive Cox’s phone number from Patricia and calling her to apologize. I found it hard to believe that someone, anyone, would name their child that but I guess anything is possible. My parents didn’t raise me to act a fool in other people’s homes. I felt bad about my behavior. She was rude and obnoxious, but that didn’t mean I had to return the favor. Two wrongs never make a right.

  Just when I had almost forgotten about her, I spotted her one afternoon. I had caught a cab down to an eclectic area of the District called Adams Morgan. I had heard so much about it that my curiosity was sparked. It was a virtual melting pot within the city, just as I had heard. People from every country and nationality you could think of were walking down the streets. I saw my first Rastafarian that day. He was selling watches and other jewelry on one of the corners. He tried to convince me his fifteen-dollar necklaces were fourteen-karat gold but I didn’t believe he would be selling real gold for that price. These days, I realize people sell even more impressive things than that on the street; especially when the goods are hot.