The Cost of Love
The Fed Ex man came delivering three boxes for Lyrical. I sit them on the couch and on the coffee table is a stack of bills. She runs and opens the boxes and pulls out three shoe boxes. She opens the other which has three Michael Kors purses. She has three hundred pairs of shoes. A hundred and fifty of them she hasn’t worn yet. My wife is beautiful, tall, Gabrielle Union look-a-like, smart and a shopaholic.
“Yo, I thought we agreed no more shopping this month.” She cuts her eye at me and back her new purchases.
“Why should I curb my spending when both shops and the spa is doing so well?” I rub my hand over my face and take a deep breath. I look at my reflection and realize with gray in my dark fade and beard my wife was the cause of ninety percent of it. I love my wife but I hate her spending habits. I stand at six feet and thin but clearly she is the boss. I want to invest in our retirement and she wants to invest in designers who care less if we live or die. These same designers she pours money into wouldn’t invite us over for a cup of coffee and donut. She calls me cheap and I call myself financially conscious. I live within and below my means. I
“Yeah true and all but you don’t need another shoe, purse or clothes. You spending like we don’t have bills, we don’t need money to retire or send our son to college. You spending money on shit you don’t need.”
“I like nice things and our bills are paid. I have celebrity clientele and our son is three years old we have time.”
I scratch my beard and begin writing checks, paying credit cards bills and utilities. She sitting up here living it up like Beyoncé when we only have George and Weezy money. Yes, over the past few years our salons, spa and barber shop is doing extremely well but what about our savings. It is either her buying shit, or going on trips, or ordering bundles of weave for 400 dollars she doesn’t need because her hair is past her shoulders. She threw our son a fifteen hundred dollar party that half way through he fell asleep on, he was scare of the fucking Sponge Bob and the cake we spent a cool hundred and seventy- five dollars is ridiculous.
Money to her grows on fucking trees. She thinks we can just shake it and a hundred dollar bills will fall off. Flossing for these irrelevant broads makes no sense to me. She walks over and kisses my neck.
“I promise I won’t buy another thing.” She sits on my lap and kisses me.
“I’m serious Lyrical no more buying clothes, weaves, shoes, make-up and trips with your girls.” She unbuttons my shirt running her tongue in circles over my ear. She rotates her hips on my Johnson.
“I promise but right now all I want to do is make my hubby feel good. I want some of Mr. Johnson. Can I have him?”
I lift her up and we walk over to the couch, kissing passionately, she opens my pants and I open my eyes for a quick second to see the invoice showing the price of five thousand dollars. I jump and scream,
“You spent five thousand dollars on a dress? Are you fucking crazy? Yo, word on my life send it back.”
“It’s non-refundable and it is for the gala on the 7th.”
“Are you serious?”
She lifted her head and wiped her mouth and looks under her glasses. I throw the receipt, the dress, the shoes and purse across the room. I sit up and pull out my phone calculating all the money she spent this month.
“You’ve spent close to twelve thousand dollars on bullshit you will only wear once. I don’t get you.”
“I love nice and expensive things. That dress was worn by Jennifer Lopez and because I bought that dress I help out a charitable cause.”
“Are you seriously sitting here telling me this? I don’t care who wore the dress and what cause you helped you spent five thousand dollars on a dress.”
“Yes, I’m serious. We are being honored and I want to look how I feel like a star.”
“You will look like an ass because you will be the only broad in that spot rocking a five thousand dollar dress. Un fucking believable that you keep spending money like water.”
She raised her eyebrow and mumbled under her breath.
“I make the bulk of the money and how I spend it is my damn business. My spa, my hair salons in Rochester and Syracuse customer clientele have tripled.” He stood up and fixed his pants.
“You know what Lyrical you always put that shit in my face but I manage each bill. I make sure your stylist pay your booth rent, maintain the books and make sure nothing goes in the red. Your ass don’t do shit but play Ms. Celebrity because you style a few politicians and rnb singers hair.”
“I can hire an accountant because this shit is for the birds arguing with you about my how I do my money.”
“You do that and I’ll handle my barber shop business.”
She carried her boxes one by one. She stomped up and down the stairs. I paid the remaining of the bills for the month. Order the supplies and handled our personal finances. I was tired of the argument and the run around. Next month she was on her own because I am tired.
New friend in town
I walked into the kitchen and Garrett was cooking up chicken sausage, home fries, eggs, grits and biscuits. As usual I was welcome to a breakfast fit for a King. Last night the hospital E.R. was busy with new cases of flu, upper respiratory infections and stomach bugs. It is what I dealt with coming into the hospital. Working twelve hour shifts, helping Garret run the H.I.V free clinic was enough to make me spend. Garrett wants me to be his Nubian warrior, his sex slave and the King of the castle. I love my man with all my heart and soul but he wears me out.
Our relationship began in California my hometown ten years ago and since living here our relationship has lost its sparkle. I hate Buffalo but I came because Garrett mother was sick and five years later he makes the decision this is home. I hate being cold and I still haven’t adjusted. I miss my family. I’ve made friends here with William, Blue, Bishop and Dru but it is not the same. Garret thinks every brother in Buffalo wants me and his jealousy irritates me. Maybe it is all these years we’ve spent together and it’s slowly falling apart. I’m suffocating and I’m losing interest in him.
“Babe, I need you to run a few errands before you crash. I have two meetings to attend and …”
“I’m tired and I need to get some rest before working at my brother’s Keeper.”
He puts his hand on his hip. His curly hair push back with a head band, dark mocha complexion, his petite physique toned and muscular. His mole under his eye. I tower over him at 6’6, built like the incredible hulk and high yellow complexion.
“Excuse me. It will only take you two or three hours. I slave over a stove, cook, clean and give you all this ass and you can’t run a few errands for your man?” He slams the plate on the table and mumbles under his breath.
“I had a busy night. It can wait. I do just as much as you do if not more.”
“Whatever nothing I’m not leaving this house at all.”
“A Dr. Shemar Alexander called for you.”
“Word. That’s my boy from college. Did he leave a number?”
He handed the piece of paper to me. I look over the number and pull out my cell.
I hear a knock on the door and he is standing there. Garrett puts his hand on his hip. Shemar stood at 6’2, muscular built, bald head, mocha complexion and a gold tee. He had teeth white like porcelain, he smells like Egyptian musk and in our past we spent a few night of intimacy. It was our secret because the next day he wanted this to never leave the bedroom. We remained friends and now he is standing at my door.
“Brother, good to see you.” He gave me a bear hug and Garret stood up and waked over to me and cleared his throat.
“Babe, this is Dr. Shemar Alexander my boy from college. He and I was on the football team together. He extended his hand and Shemar shook it. Garrett stood in front of me and wrapped his arms around him.
“Nice to meet you.” He mumbled.
“I’ve been hired at Buffalo General surgical team. I wanted to catch up with William and you. I spoke with Will and he wanted to shoot some hoops later.
“Yeah, yeah I’m down. “ Garrett sucked his teeth and put his hand on his hip.
“I thought you were tired.”
“I am but I’ve haven’t seen Shemar in a minute. Don’t show out in a fit for no reason. Shemar you want something to eat or Coffee? Garrett made a mean breakfast.”
“I don’t want to impose plus I have to get acclimated with the city and try to find a place to stay.”
“Where are you staying?”
“Over at Embassy Suites downtown Buffalo.”
“Let say we meet at my brother’s Keeper around two. I’ll pick you up and bring you over. We can catch up on old times.”
“Great let me go and Garrett it was nice meeting you.”
Garrett nodded his head and gave a half smile. He watch as Shemar jumped into the rented car.
“Really Babe. Why you have to show out in front of my boy like that.”
“You told me you were tired and when Mr. Shumar walks in the door you’re ready to play ball.”
“It’s Shemar and I’ve haven’t play ball with the boys in a long time. “
“I only ask you to do little things for me.”
“No, you ask me to do a laundry list of shit forgetting I pull twelve hour shifts at the hospital, plus the two days I am off I work part- time at My Brother’s Keeper, and at the clinic with you. Yet, you bitch when I tell you no or want to do something for me. I can’t just live in Garrett’s world. Are you seriously bitching and moaning about me shooting hoops with an old friend?”
Garrett snatched up the plate and scraping it hard with the knife throwing it in the sink. Alex was over the melodramatics with Garrett. He push the plate away
“Alex, finish your breakfast.”
“I lost my appetite. I’m going to bed.”
I push the plate and walk to the bedroom and slam the door.
© 2014 Tamyara Brown- Tamluvstowrite
Author Tamyara Brown
My love for writing is unconditional. It is my sanity in this crazy world.