What do the old folks say? They will come to light. And
damnit if that shyt isn’t the truth.
The day I had to face Digital,
apologize and smell the new car scent in his brand new, paid-in-cash Benz was
one of the most emotional days in my life, to date, I think. Can you kick
yourself from a seated position? Because I had my proverbial foot firmly lodged
in my ass as I sat uncomfortably on his butter soft, heated leather passenger
seat. The sound system was crazy, like being front row center. He played his
artist’s new album. It wasn’t out yet so I hadn’t heard any of the tracks
before. The shyt was bangin, tho. Definitely gonna cop that. Wish I could tell
you guys who the dude is. I’ll say this, he’s a young, fairly new (sophomore
album) R&B guy in the lane of R
Kelly.
Anyway, before I got a whiff of his whip, we met at a sushi
bar. He brought flowers. (And he’s so not the flowers kind of guy). I probably
should not have broken the news in public. It didn’t give him the opportunity
to release and react the way I’m sure he wanted to and that was at best,
thoughtless. The least I could have done was given him the privacy to curse in
a raised voice. And he wasn’t about to make a scene here, the Asian waiters new
his name. Apparently this was his little neighborhood watering hole. Nice.
“So, whadyou wanna tell me, Mel?” He asked no sooner than we were seated.
The waiter came around just then.
“We’re not ready yet, but can we get some saki?”
“Uh, no saki for me. Water with lemon please,” I said, addressing the waiter rather than Digital.
“Have a drink with me,” He
insisted. “It’s a celebration bitches.” Not funny.
We were not about to celebrate. We were probably about to speak the last words
we would ever say to each other in life.
I smiled a nervous half smile.
“Whatre you pregnant? I know you aint pregnant cause I been
outta town for two months,” he said
jokingly, digging through the edemame. “Don’t make me have to get Mrs.
Ganache on
the phone.”
My mother loved him. The whole family loved him. He’d flown
down and spent a week with us once and visited a few other times when I was at
my mother’s house. He was like a big brother to my little sister. Digital had
even charmed my irritable17-year-old cat who absolutely does not tolerate
company.
I raised one eyebrow as if to say, “well “¦” and Digital’s mouth immediately dropped.
He leaned in and spoke in a dramatic whisper.
“Get the fuck outta here! Mel, you pregnant?” He sat back abruptly and began counting aloud on his fingers.
Its it ““ mine?”
He asked leaning back in on the last word.
This isn’t the way I wanted to begin. I wanted to start off
by telling him that I’d been seeing BD, that we’d been spending some time
together in his absence and that one thing had led to another. I wanted to
follow that confession up with my pregnancy. Now I’d have to give him
everything at once. Ugly.
“No. You haven’t been around, Digital,” I finally said.
He slouched down in his seat, “Man, get the f*ck outta here
with that bullshyt. Please don’t start that bullshyt in here, Mel. You know
what I’m doin out here? I’m fuckin workin. Don’t make this some argument about
my schedule and how I don’t have time for you and this and that. If you brought
me here to tell me you’re havin some other man’s kid, you coulda said that shyt
at the house. But don’t try to turn it around now.”
“I’m not tryin to turn it around, I’m saying the reason we
haven’t committed,” for the record, “is because you’re always
jettin off. I never see you.”
“Are you serious right now? You’re fuckin knocked up by
another dude, Mel. You think I don’t know you get it in? I know you get it in.
Cool. You do your thing, I got business, too. Let’s just be real. But what
kinda fuckin shyt is this? You with this dude?”
I wasn’t looking at him anymore, but past him.
“This dude know about me? Are you having the baby?” No answer. I couldn’t answer
him right this second or my voice would crack and the tears would pour. It’s so hard to get yourself back together after that point. I
was trying to hold it in. I needed a few seconds.
“Come on,” he said
jumping up out of his chair and picking up his Blackberry off the table.
“Let’s go.”
We walked briskly around the waterfront and back to his
apartment. The view was beautiful and wasted.
“Shyt, I forgot my car,” he
said pulling out his keys and switching directions. I just followed. He’d driven all the half a mile to the sushi place because he was
so excited about his new car. He’d wanted me
to see it. He took 10 minutes showing me all it’s luxurious features and what
this button does and that button does. Like a kid. He’d worked extremely hard
and this was the first big thing he had to show for it. (He was also house
shopping in Atlanta). I was so proud of him. It had only been about three years
since he was sleeping onBD’s floor and working at
some sneaker store in Manhattan in between pounding the pavement for a deal for
this new kid he’d discovered. It was a really rough time. I’d sent him some
money once, $200 to help out. I loved him and wanted to be supportive but I
could not do the long distance thing, nor could he, and I couldn’t take his
constant working. It was more like a preoccupation than an occupation. It
consumed him.
But it was about to be all over anyway. I wasn’t done
confessing.
We valeted at the door of his building and went in. As soon
as the elevator doors closed Digital broke his silence asking me the same
questions again.
“So you with this dude, Mel? Are you havin the baby?” I was trying to wait until we got into the apartment.
“We’re not really together but we’re trying to do the right
thing,” I said solemnly.
We walked in, Digital flipped the lights on and immediately took a right to the
kitchen where he poured himself some dark liquor.
“You know what this is some funny shyt,” he said after he’d put the
glass down. “I was just talking to my boy the
other day, about how all the shyt I’ve been
working toward all this time, I’m really there.
I got the checks comin in. I got myself established at the label, I got these
music connects now and on the business side, I’m good. Now I just need to find
a wife and settle down.”
His boy’s a producer who’s done some of the tracks for his
artist and has been through some of the same relationship ails. Goes with the
territory I suppose.
He laughed again and took another swig.
“He was like, “˜yeah, once you get that house you need to go
ahead and join the club.’” Digital
said. (His boy is married). “I just need
a wife and a little girl.” He has two
boys.
He plopped down on the sofa, leaving me standing.
“I guess this is God’s way of telling me you’re not the one.”
My stomach sunk. Way to rub salt in the wound. And I wasn’t
even done yet.
“There’s something else,” I
began. “I don’t
want you to hate me Digital. I don’t know what
I’d do if I thought you hated me.”
“I don’t hate you, Mel. I’m disappointed in you. How the
f*ck did you let this happen? I mean, I know it may not be like that right now,
but you knew what it was “¦”
He’s not hearing me.
“I need to tell you something else, Digital.” I would not take a breath until I got it all out.
“Remember that time I told you I saw BD in the city? Well we
went out again after that.”
And I took a breath.
“I’m so sorry. I wish I could take that night back “¦” This was a really piss poor confession, I know. But I couldn’t bring myself to say the words.
“Wait, wait, wait, wait, wait. You f*cked BD? My boy?” He asked in disbelief.
It was a horrible, emotional display. One like I’d never
seen from Digital. He was always so aloof. (What is it women like about the
emotionally detached, unavailable man?) That night he got in touch with his
feelings quickly, breaking a glass against the wall and telling me I should be
grateful he doesn’t hit women. I think I might have been.
He called BD several times but couldn’t get an answer. I was
glad about that. When Digital did finally drag the story of our illicit affair
out piecemeal, question by question, I was sure it would sound a lot different
hearing it from BD. I didn’t lie, but I did try to stick to the larger truths ““
I’m pregnant and it’s BD’s.
He insisted BD had done this on purpose. That all he ever
did was run up behind him trying to get with chicks he had been with. That BD
was still mad because his little sister had come onto him when they were in
college. Sitting seductively on Digital’s sofa, she’d pulled the sari that
covered her head off, letting her long hair cascade over her shoulders and told
Digital her big brother doesn’t need to know everything. There are
discrepancies as to what happened next, but Digital says he made the girl go
back to her dorm. However It went down, he was right about BD still being salty
over it. He’d mentioned it to me several times and I didn’t even know either of
them when this went down.
So there was some underlying tension already between the two
of them.
Not to mention the fact that they’d both set off with
aspirations in the same field, both achieving levels of success straight out of
college, but Digital’s career had taken off and BD’s stalled. I know BD was
jealous about that. He wanted it to be him.
It was becoming clearer to me that I’d stepped into
something that began way before me and had nothing to do with me. It occurred
to me that perhaps, as Digital suggested, I had been used.
Not that circumstance mattered at all at this point. I’d
known enough. I was an equally responsible player.
After he’d calmed down Digital told me he’d never speak to
me again. He’d always love me but I could no longer be a part of his life.
“Take care of that baby and BD,” he
said, closing the door to his apartment behind me.
Downstairs, I stood in the doorway while the doorman hailed
me a cab in the rain.
Now, I just needed to talk to Serita. Though, unbeknownst to
me, Digital would have her on the phone before I was even out of the building.
Originally posted on
March 5, 2008
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