Читать книгу Take Her Man - Grace Octavia - Страница 14

“I can’t believe that motherfucker’s with that bitch,” Tasha said angrily. It was exactly what I was thinking, but at that point I was too upset to say a word. We were all sitting in Tamia’s car in front of Justin’s. Tasha had convinced the manager to open the kitchen exit so we could get out without walking past Miata and Julian. Though I wanted so badly to approach them, Tamia and Tasha convinced me that it would be a bad idea to confront them in the restaurant. After climbing out from under the table, I moonwalked the entire way to the kitchen, watching their every move. Julian slid his arms around her shoulders and pulled her head into his chest. He kissed her on the cheek and whispered something in her ear. It looked like he said, “Mrs. James.”

With every moment that passed, as I maneuvered my way around each table, my heart broke a little bit more. I wanted to scream, jump on top of the bar, and demand that Julian come home with me. Not her. Not the girl named after a car.

“Tasha, calm down. You’re only making things worse saying things like that,” Tamia said, looking at Tasha behind me in the backseat. “I knew it was a bad idea to come here. Are you okay, Troy?”

“I can’t believe this. Why her? Why here?” I looked out of the passenger-side window and shook my head. “I don’t understand. One minute everything’s perfect, then he just dumps me. Now he’s here with her? This shit is crazy.”

“I know it doesn’t make sense. But you’ve got to move on. That’s what breaking up is all about.” Tamia put her hand on my shoulder. I could hear some old Luther Vandross song playing in a car passing by. I wanted to jump out of the car and roll around in the street, screaming Julian’s name out loud. It was dramatic and it wouldn’t make me feel better, but at least then people could see my pain. I got played by a man I thought was going to marry me. “You have to move on,” Tamia went on over Luther. “And I know it’s kind of harsh, but clearly Julian has.”

“Bullshit,” Tasha said from the backseat. I could tell she was a little intoxicated from the excess of sass in her voice.

“What?” Tamia turned to her.

“That’s bullshit, what you said, Tamia. Something else is going on.” I could see Tasha’s hands moving around in my side mirror. She was getting riled up and ready to fight. While Tamia was always trying to see the pot of gold at the end of the rainbow, the good in mankind, Tasha was the drama queen of controversy. If you needed to find out if your man was cheating, if your boss was stealing money from the company, if you were lying to your damn self, Tasha was on the job. She trusted no one and she could smell a dubious dilemma like doo-doo on a shoe. When we first met, Tamia and I wondered where Tasha got all of her street savvy. The girl could curse better than a sailor and I once saw her jimmy a lock faster than anything I’d ever seen on MacGyver. Apparently, her 90210 existence wasn’t as “totally awesome” as her mother’s career choice promised. When Tasha grew tired of sitting in hotel rooms and playing cards with her nanny, she slipped out to the streets to play gangster girl to get even with Porsche. From stealing clothes she easily could afford, to hanging out with boys that might have been featured on America’s Most Wanted, Tasha said it felt good to be out in the street doing things that could get her killed or at least force Porsche to have to come to the police precinct to bail her out.

“What do you think’s going on?” I begged, desperate to find out what Tasha was talking about.

“Oh, don’t listen to her ass, Troy. She’s going to turn this into some craziness.” Tamia tried to turn on the engine.

“No, girl.” I put my hand on Tamia’s to stop her from turning the ignition. “I want to know what she thinks.”

“Did you love that man?” Tasha pushed her head into the front of the car like a bobblehead. “Like really love him?”

“Yes, of course.”

“And did he love you?” she asked.

“Yes.”

“Are you sure?” Tasha stressed the last word. “I mean, we all thought Julian loved you, Troy. We really did and you could not have told us any different.”

Tamia nodded her head in agreement.

“But the important thing is,” Tasha went on, “do you think he loved you?”

I turned to face the huge glass window that separated the people inside of Justin’s from the rest of the world. I squinted to see if I could see Julian standing by the bar. He wasn’t there.

“Yes,” I answered Tasha, searching the rest of the restaurant. I remembered the first time I met Julian there for dinner. It was raining outside and he’d just completed some residency requirement. “I need to celebrate, baby,” Julian had said to me on the phone. By the time I walked into Justin’s, he was already there, sitting in the waiting area. “I did it. I did it,” Julian said. He jumped up from the white leather sofa and opened his arms. My baby was looking fine, like a young Billy Dee putting the moves on Diana Ross in Lady Sings the Blues. I ran to him and jumped into his arms like I was Billie Holiday getting out of rehab. He held me close and kissed me on the forehead. “And I have you to thank,” he whispered into my ear. “Now everything’s going to be perfect for us.” I believed him then. I still believe him now.

“Tasha, get to your damn point,” Tamia said.

“I will, if you calm down.” Tasha put two fingers in front of me. “So that’s two points: You love him and he loves you. Now, let’s see if we can get to three.”

“Yeah, let’s see if three makes any sense,” Tamia jumped in again. Tasha and I looked at her. “Okay, okay. I’ll shut up. Go on.”

“One: You love Julian. Two: Julian loves you. Question three: Does he love that bitch?” Tasha pointed toward the restaurant.

“Wait, I’m not having that,” Tamia said. “This is not about that girl. We’re all black women and she’s not a bitch. Her name is Miata.” Tasha sucked her teeth and waved her hand at Tamia. “No, I’m sorry, ladies. I will not let you all make this about that girl. Julian broke up with Troy. Julian brought someone else to the restaurant. Not Miata. She’s innocent in this. We have no clue what kind of person she is.”

“We don’t need to know what kind of person she is. What we know is that she’s the kind of person who’s in the freaking restaurant with our friend’s man—”

“Ex man,” Tamia said.

“What-the-hell-ever you want to call him,” Tasha said. “All I want to know is, is that bitch—I mean Miata/bitch or whoever or whatever you want to call her—really innocent in this, Tamia? Is she innocent or smart?” Tasha sounded like a lawyer cracking a witness. “Now, answer the third question, Troy. Does he love her?”

“You don’t have to answer that, Troy.” I could feel Tamia’s hand on my leg. “I know it’s hard for you right now.”

“Leave her alone, you corny ass,” Tasha said to Tamia.

“I love you anyway,” Tamia teased.

I leaned my head on the headrest and closed my eyes.

It was just before we were about to leave for a three-day vacation in Key West that I found out about Miata. It was innocent, really. Julian had left both the two-way pager he used for work and his cell phone on the bed that morning when he’d left for the hospital. I picked the up two-way, trying to find a message from the hospital so I could give him a buzz there to see if he wanted me to drop off his stuff. I checked the messages, figuring he had to have at least one text message from the hospital within the past ten hours. He had been on call the night before.

“Miata” was the first name I read. “What kind of name is that?” I thought, scrolling past the name. But I didn’t stop. After realizing that there were no messages from or to the hospital, I took a mental note that the last seven messages were from Miata and tossed the phone and pager back on the bed.

“He’ll come back,” I thought, slipping off my nightgown and heading to the shower. Along the way, I kept saying to myself: I’m confident. I didn’t have to worry about my man, whom he was seeing and why in the heck she’d sent him so many text messages.

I wasn’t the type to go through a man’s pager. That was child’s play. That was for insecure little girls who had nothing else to do with their time. Drama queens. Chickenheads. Baby mamas. Those were the kinds of women who went through pagers. Not me. I was different. I had things to do. In fact, I had a class that afternoon and I needed to get to the library to study. No time for little games. But, as I said, that’s what I kept saying to myself. What I was thinking was, Who in the hell is this woman, paging my man? I was trying to be mature but something in the atmosphere clearly was working on me. If there’s one thing I’ve learned thus far in my short life, is that when there’s something working on you—when your old inner phone is ringing—you’d better answer.

I turned to walk to the shower, going over my busy day in my head, and the two-way started vibrating. “Keep walking,” I said to myself, recalling the time Tasha’s telephone spying on one boyfriend led to her unknowingly calling his mother and accusing the old lady of sleeping with her man. Clearly, they broke up.

“I have no reason not to trust my baby, right Pookie Po?” I said, bending down to pet the dog. That’s when it happened…The damn two-way went off again. Even Pookie Po looked at the vibrating device that time. “Should I read Daddy’s message, Pookie? Do you think it’s important?” I asked, looking at the dog’s tiny face. Now, I know it sounds like I’m tripping, but I swear the dog shook his head “yes.” It was a sign! And I don’t ignore signs. I immediately picked up Julian’s two-way and read the message…

Where are you, handsome?

I’m waiting at the fountain in the park.

I miss you.

—Miata

WTF? I dropped the pager, nearly hitting Pookie Po on his head. Who the hell was this “Miata” and what was she doing meeting my Julian by the damn fountain?

Now, here’s the blackout in my story. I don’t really remember how I ended up dressed in a sweat suit, sitting beneath a tree by the fountain in the center of Washington Square Park with Tasha and Tamia, but I was there. I was there and my poor dog, my “reason” (per Tasha) for being in the park missing class, was looking up at me like I was crazy.

“When you see them, just walk over with the dog and say hello,” Tamia explained, hiding behind a copy of the New York Times. “It’s a free park. There’s no law against walking your dog.”

“But how do we even know they’re coming here? It could’ve been Central Park she was talking about,” Tasha said. She snatched the newspaper from Tamia.

“We know because Troy said this is Julian’s favorite park.” Tamia tried to snatch the paper back, but it tore in half.

“Okay, okay.” I spotted Julian sitting on the side of the fountain, talking to a girl. They were sharing an ice cream cone.

Pookie suddenly barked (he never barks), jumped from my lap (he never jumps), and headed toward Julian.

“Damn,” Tasha said. “Get the dog! Get the dog!”

I stood up and followed behind Pookie.

“What do I say?” I asked.

“Say hello,” Tamia answered, pointing to Julian. I turned to find that Pookie had already made his way to his daddy’s arms. Julian was standing there holding him up, looking through the crowd like he was seeing things.

“There you go, baby,” I said, reaching for him. “Oh, Julian,” I added, trying to sound surprised. I didn’t. “What are you doing here?”

“I was wondering the same thing,” Julian replied. He was wearing a white cotton pullover and khakis—not the scrubs he usually wore at the hospital, where he said he would be.

“Oh, I was just taking Pookie for a walk.” I took him from Julian and fought not to stare at the girl, who I already had decided was ugly.

“But this is, like, over twenty blocks from your apartment.” Julian smiled.

“Pookie needs the exercise, Julian,” I said, smiling back at him. “Who’s your friend?” I didn’t look in her direction.

“I’m Miata. And you are…?” she asked, putting her hand out to shake mine. I pretended to try to maneuver Pookie around so I could shake her hand, but I couldn’t. I must’ve looked so clumsy.

“The dog,” I said, looking at Pookie. “The dog.” Although I’d completely decided that Miata was kin to Pookie when I was looking at her from across the park, I had to admit that she didn’t look that bad in a “God bless the child,” “all of God’s children are beautiful” kind of way. Like if I was Mariah Carey, she could definitely be one of my backup singers. Nah, she wasn’t that bad looking. In fact, in another life, I might have called her attractive. She had dark brown skin, slender, exotic eyes, and a weave that was so perfectly brushed, I might have thought it was real if it wasn’t one inch above her ignorantly round, clearly over-exercised ass.

“This is Troy, Miata,” Julian said. “Troy, this is Miata.” Well, I was introduced. What next? Do I get to smack the bitch now or later? I smiled and nodded my head. “Miata’s an intern at the hospital.”

“Great,” I said. Then there was complete silence. I rubbed Pookie’s back, trying to figure out when Julian was going to introduce me. Me. Hello, it’s me. Troy, your girlfriend. Your future wife…Mrs. Julian James. That’s what you said when we took that picture on New Year’s…say it now…say it now!

But still there was just silence.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” Julian said just as I was about to burst into tears. “This is Troy. Troy’s in law school here at NYU.”

“Okay,” Miata said.

I looked past her and saw Tasha standing on the other side of the fountain. She had her hands on her hips and she was saying something to me. I couldn’t hear her, but by the look on her face, it was bad. “Stand your ground” was about all I could make out, trying to read her lips. “Stand your ground.”

“I’m Julian’s girlfriend,” I blurted out before giving my mind enough time to catch up with my mouth.

Miata looked stunned. She nearly dropped the ice cream cone. And while Pookie looked happy his parents finally had tied the knot, Julian looked like I’d just told him his mother died. I knew I was breaking some awful dating rule by declaring the magnitude of our relationship without Julian’s approval, but I was losing my cool. I could only imagine the nerdy convo they shared about the latest in syringe technology and cell growth. Who did this heifer think she was, anyway? I’m Troy Helene Smith. She can’t just come in and take my man. In the eleven months we’d been together, we’d built up a history: movies, dinners, trips, family outings. We were in love.

“Oh, this is her?” Miata turned to look at Julian. He nodded and she looked back at me. “The woman he loves?” I wanted to believe that she was saying it in a sweet, “let’s celebrate your black love” kind of way, but in reality her voice was an Erica Kane–like mix of snot and smug.

“Well,” Julian managed, stuttering. “Well, this is Troy.”

Miata shifted her hips and grinned slyly. I put the dog down and poked out my chest. I had never had a fight in my life, but if she was looking for one, she’d found it. Plus, my girls were just a few feet away.

“Well, Julian,” she said, licking her ice cream cone, “I’ll just leave you with this person. You know where to find me…when you’re ready to stop playing Barbie and Ken.”

“Excuse me?” I asked.

“Something I said you didn’t understand?” she asked coolly. She clearly was trying to make me lose my cool and embarrass myself, because Julian had this dumb look on his face like he had no clue she was insulting me. “I swear, NYU must do something about its open-admissions policy.”

This woman was the devil. I had nothing to say to that. No defense. At that moment, I wasn’t even sure what I could say to that. I just really wanted to hit her. But then I’d look like the bad, irrational, crazy girl, and that was what she wanted.

I looked back toward Tasha. She was shaking her head. “Say anything,” I made out from her lips.

“Well, I think it’s a good school,” I said. What? That’s all I could think of to say?

“Okay,” Miata said. “Whatever.” She tossed the ice cream in the garbage and looked back at Julian. “Call me,” she said.

Before I could put the dog down and jump on her, she turned and walked away, looking as calm and collected as she had when I’d first laid eyes on her.

I wanted to throw something at her: a rock, some scissors, darts, some of Pookie’s shit. But I was standing there stunned, flabbergasted, aghast. Hell, I thought women like that only existed on television. I needed backup quick.

Julian didn’t speak to me the entire walk back to my place. We stopped at a little grocery store to pick up some dog food, but that was the extent of our conversation. I was beginning to feel like I’d made a huge mistake, walking up on him in the park like that. I mean, I didn’t know if they were dating or what. All I had on him was a shared ice cream cone. Miata had made it clear that she knew he had a girlfriend. She didn’t look even a little bit surprised when I said I was his girlfriend. Maybe I was wrong; maybe I was being childish and risked losing him altogether.

I slipped my key in the door when we got back to my place and just as I was about to apologize for my little stunt, Julian grabbed my arm.

“Don’t go in,” he said, pulling my arm away from the door. “I have to talk about this first.”

“Okay,” I answered, certain he was about to break up with me.

“I’m sorry. I don’t know what I was thinking.” Julian looked into my eyes and I could tell he was sincere. For the first time since we’d left the park, I looked at his face and noticed that his eyes were red. “I would never hurt you and I’m just mad you had to find out about her like this.”

“Who is she, Julian?”

“I did meet her at the hospital, like I said.” Julian took a deep breath and put his hands in his pockets. “I only wanted to be friends at first but she wanted more. She made a pass at me and…I guess I just went for it.”

“But why? What do you see in that girl?” I asked. Other than the fact that she was going to be a doctor, which, if they got together would make their union the eighth of its kind in the James family—something I always knew Julian wanted—she just didn’t seem like his type.

“I don’t know. She’s just different—not what I’m used to.” He paused. “But it doesn’t matter. She doesn’t mean anything to me. I just hope you can forgive me.” Julian took Pookie Po from my arms, put him on the ground, and pulled me close to him. “You forgive me, baby?”

“Yes,” I said. I closed my eyes and vowed never to bring up the incident again.

“Earth to Troy…Earth to Troy,” Tasha said. I opened my eyes to find both her and Tamia looking at me intently.

“No,” I answered, remembering that night at my apartment. “No, he doesn’t love her. He loves me.”

“Exactly. That’s just what I wanted to know,” Tasha announced.

“And?” Tamia asked.

“And…my point is this: Troy loves Julian, Julian loves Troy, and Julian doesn’t love Miata.” Tasha counted off each of the points on her hand.

“So why is he in there with Miata?” Tamia jumped in again.

“Exactly, and what’s Troy going to do about it?” Tasha said, whipping her head around to look at me.

“What’s Troy going to do about it?” I asked, referring to myself in the third person—Tasha’s rationale does that to you sometimes.

“I’ll tell you what you’re going to do…. Oh, I’ll tell you what you’re going to do,” Tasha said, sitting back in the center of the backseat. She sounded like the Wicked Witch of the West putting together a plot to kill Dorothy. “You’re going to take her man.”

“Now I know you’re crazy.” Tamia tried to turn the ignition again. “We’re leaving. Where’s your car, Troy?”

“No, listen,” Tasha said, stopping Tamia from turning the ignition. “Troy gave us all of the facts. This is real love. While Julian is confused right now by that hoe, what they share is real love. I don’t know about you, but I believe her. I believe her and I’m going to support her.”

“No, you want Troy to be desperate and chase some man around. That’s childish. I say, and I do believe I’m the only sane one in this damn car right now,” Tamia said, looking at me, “I say, if Julian loves Troy he’ll come back to her on his own. She’ll have him if she waits.”

“See, that’s what I’m talking about, Tamia. Why do we always have to wait? I don’t know about you ladies, but I’m tired of waiting to exhale. I’m ready to beat down that hoe! She clearly has some kind of voodoo spell over poor Julian.” We all laughed. “All I’m saying is, anything worth having is worth fighting for, Tamia. Like how I fought for my husband,” Tasha said, waving her wedding ring in the front seat.

“You didn’t have to fight for shit with Lionel. He loves you so much he’d drink your bathwater,” Tamia said. She had a point. Lionel loved two things: basketball and Tasha. He showered her with all of the love any woman could desire—the one thing I know in my heart she was in search of when she jumped in that car and left L.A. all those years ago. Due to her insecurities, Tasha was used by old boyfriends, but Lionel adored her. And he wasn’t a bad catch either. He was Haitian and Peruvian and had the kind of impeccable dark chocolate skin that you had to look at twice to be sure the man wasn’t wearing some kind of makeup. He was well over seven feet tall, with a hunky build and had the cutest dimples I’d ever seen on a grown man. He was more than easy to look at. While I was sure a baby was nowhere in the near future for him and Tasha, between the two of them, when it did happen, the baby would be born with the kind of unearthly cuteness that would make all of the other babies born on that day refuse any nursery photos.

“Yeah, how do you think I made that happen? Lionel loves me, but Lionel has a dick. We had some drama along the way, just like everyone else. I’m not stupid. Now, listen to me, ‘smart girls.’ When you meet a man, you plan your outfit, what to eat so you don’t look stupid at the table, when he can kiss you, when you will accept another date, and when you will invite him to your bed. You plan everything,” Tasha said.

Tamia and I couldn’t help but nod our heads along with her. She sounded like she was giving the “get-a-man gospel.”

“So why not plan a way to get and keep your man? That’s our damn problem. We get a man and stop damn planning. Stop getting our nails done, complimenting him, dressing nice, talking about interesting things. Pretty soon, we stop planning interesting things to do in the bedroom. You know what happens then?” Tasha pushed her head back into the front seat. “Your man ends up at some damn half-fancy black restaurant with a bitch named after a fucking cheap car. And why?”

“Why?” Tamia asked.

“Because the other woman had a plan,” Tasha said. “See, you two don’t experience dealing with chicks like Miata, but I do. I know those girls like the back of my hand. She’s a hustler. She’s a smart hustler who’s hustled your doctor away from you.”

“That’s crazy,” Tamia said. “The girl is going to be a doctor herself. She’ll have her own money. Why would she need to marry a doctor?”

“Girl, what’s better than one doctor? Two! Please, from the moment I laid eyes on that girl I knew she was a ghetto girl on the come up. She’s smart. She’s smart and she had a plan…a plan to take Troy’s man. Trust me. I know all this time she’s been in that hospital, she’s been dragging her thang around Julian, looking all sweet and smart, going over medical stuff out loud like a damn dictionary. Black men love that stuff. Especially the ones who know what in the hell she’s talking about. She’s probably being everything Troy isn’t.”

“What are you saying about me?”

“I’m not saying you’re dumb, sweetie;” she said with a smile, “but come on. Julian is your man. He knows the fun you; he doesn’t see you in the classroom playing super lawyer. He doesn’t really get to see on a daily basis how smart you are. Miata knows that and she’s probably been trolling her ass around the hospital, giving him advice about you and making you seem like the most vain, superficial person in her world. She’s been telling Julian her stories about getting out of the ghetto, making herself look like the best thing since sliced bread to your man. I know it. Trust me.”

“Well, what am I supposed to do about it?” I asked.

“No, Troy. This is so unhealthy,” Tamia interrupted.

“Listen to her and you’ll be alone, with her.” Tasha put her hand up in front of Tamia’s mouth and Tamia pushed her away.

“What do you want me to do?” I asked again. To be honest, I thought both of them were right. But I wasn’t ready to give up my man just yet. Like Millie Jackson said in that old song, “Ain’t no woman in her right mind gonna sit back and let another woman come in and take her man—if he’s really worth having.” Julian was worth having.

“Listen very closely, because I can’t repeat these words and you must do them in this exact order,” Tasha said in her usual theatrical fashion.

“Why can’t you say it again? Is that from The Book of Hoes or something?” Tamia giggled.

“Tamia!” I said, annoyed but equally amused. Tasha was pretty much a card-carrying member of the Former Hoe Club of America. She wasn’t one of those nasty crackhead skeezer hoes or anything. She just had skills and wasn’t afraid to bite and be bitten. It obviously had paid off. She was wearing a six-carat Harry Winston.

“First and foremost, I have to repeat one thing: In order to get him back, you have to be sure he really loves you and not her. Before you begin the plan, you need to really think about that, Troy. Like tonight, I want you to go over the entire situation in your head. You must be sure that he loves you and be sure that he’s worth it. If you answer no to either one of those questions, there’s no need to try to break her spell over him. All you need to do if you even suspect that he loves her over you is move on with your life. Okay?” I nodded my head at Tasha’s request. “Okay,” she went on, “once you’re sure his heart is with you, you start the ‘Take Her Man Plan.’”

“Where does she come up with this stuff?” Tamia laughed.

Tasha growled at Tamia again and then she went right into the plan to help me get Julian back from Miata. She explained that from that point on, I had to think of Julian as “Miata’s man” because that was how Miata stole him from me in the first place. She was the new, fresh thing in Julian’s life. She was the greener grass when I was the old nagging hay. Now the tables had to be turned. I was now single and I actually had the green-grass allure. I just had to use it to my advantage. Making him “her man” essentially made me the new, fresh thing in his life.

After she explained the whole role-reversal scenario, Tasha went into the actual plan, which she claimed she got from some white girl in her apartment building. Over coffee in the lobby, the white girl said the six-point plan apparently was something many women had been using for years. She told Tasha that there was a rumor that the plan was actually how Diddy’s baby mama got him back from that J. Lo and her big booty. Now that’s results.

“Step one,” Tasha said, jumping into the steps. She ran down the first few quickly, stopping along the way only when Tamia protested for some reason or another.

“You mean be a helpless little girl?” Tamia said, rolling her eyes when Tasha made her way to one of the points—The Damsel in Distress.

“No, not helpless, but worthy of rescue,” Tasha said, defending the point.

“Are you kidding me? You want her to be a ‘damsel in distress’? That’s silly. It’s 2007; that’s the kind of crap that brings women back like one hundred years as a sex.”

“Oh, Tamia, please. Don’t act like you don’t turn on that girlie stuff when you need something from a man…smiling all sweet. You’re no damn Angela Davis yourself.”

We all started laughing. I couldn’t tell if it was because Tasha was completely right about Tamia or that we were surprised that Tasha knew who in the hell Angela Davis was. I guess she did read those books in college.

“No, Tasha’s right,” I said. “I read in this magazine once that all men have this superman complex or ego thing that makes them feel a need to be needed by people—like a superhero or something. It said when they’re not being used, they feel useless and find someone who will use them or make them feel needed.”

“And how are you supposed to do that if you really don’t need them to do anything? Why should you pretend you can’t?” Tamia asked, still annoyed.

“Well, for me and Lionel it’s simple,” Tasha said. “I let him do all the crap I don’t want to do around the house. It’s his job to make sure the cars are working and fix stuff when it breaks. I make him take the garbage out and when we get in the car, I make him drive—even though I say where we’re going.” She smiled. “I’m saying, those are things I don’t want to do.”

“I just think it’s too late in the game to go giving my power away like that,” Tamia said. “I have a problem when someone expects me to do something…like cook and clean and care for children. Then they have the power.”

“It’s not about power, Tamia,” I said. “It’s about sharing your life and admitting that you don’t have to do it all alone. The days of the strong black woman carrying it all on her back are way done and over. I say, if you can find a strong man willing to carry his weight, you should let him. Loosen up your own load. I wish I had someone to take my garbage out.”

“Exactly, Troy,” Tasha said, continuing with the rest of the plan. I sat still in my seat listening as it all came together like a puzzle in my mind—the change, the makeover, the sweet smile I had to give to get my man back from that woman’s lure. It was such an elaborate scheme—a wicked plot of reversal of fortune that made so much sense I wondered why the three of us hadn’t come up with it on our own a few heartbreaks ago.

“And if it doesn’t work—if this whole shim sham doesn’t work, what will Troy do?” Tamia asked when Tasha concluded the outline with one long exhale. She turned on the car and drove away from Justin’s. “What will Troy have then, other than a broken heart?”

“Then Ms. Lovesong will look better because she’s had a makeover, she’ll have met a new guy because she’s been dating other people, and she will have had a chance to really tell Julian how she felt about him without being angry.” Tasha reached over the seat and gave me a hug just as Tamia pulled up in front of the lot where I’d parked my car.

I kissed her on the cheek and took a short sigh of relief. I had felt so powerless shuffling out of the restaurant like I had done something wrong. But now I felt like I had something to do with my pain, the big swelling sea of doubt that was raging in my stomach. I wasn’t gonna waste another minute crying and being angry about Miata. I was gonna get my man back and live my happily ever after. The Take Her Man Plan was on.

“Wait, Troy,” Tasha called as I turned to walk toward my car. “Just remember one last thing: The plan must be put into action in the exact order it is given. If Julian truly loves you, and not Miata, he’ll come back to you. It may take three days…it might take three months, but he’ll come back…. Just be ready and look marvelous, Ms. Lovesong.” She poked her head out of the back window. “In the meantime, don’t stop living. Move on with your life. Join a gym. Take a knitting class. Do something you’ve always wanted to do. But be ready to answer the phone when Julian calls…just not on the first ring.” She blew me a kiss, Tamia tooted the horn, and they were off.

The Take Her Man Plan: I Declare War!

So your man walked out the door and into someone else’s arms. He said it’s over and you just can’t understand why. You’re sure he loves you and that he’s “the one.” Don’t spend money calling a psychic to see what the stars have in store for you; change your own stars by taking back what was yours in the first place. Follow these Six Steps to Success and he’ll come crawling back in no time.

Six Steps to Success

 1. Light as a Feather (Not Stiff as a Board)—Let go of the past and move forward with an open heart. Hold no grudges against your dearly departed and assure him that you are his friend. Be just as light and easy as you were when the two of you first met. Don’t expect anything, stop asking those annoying relationship questions, and stop, Stop planning. Be easy and breezy, because this most likely is how you got him in the first place. Finally, no matter how much you want to, don’t bring “her” up. This will only exacerbate the situation and put a damper on things. Just be patient. It’s your time with him. Do you, and remember the witch will be gone soon.

 2. Change, Change, Change—Usually when men cheat it’s a sign of boredom in their current relationship. Men are simple creatures and the slightest sign of regularity turns them into panting puppies begging to roam free. This is probably why your man began to stray initially. Face it, since you’ve been spending all of your time on him and too little on yourself, you’re stuck in a beauty-less rut you never intended to get into in the first place. Since you two started dating, you’ve probably put on a few pounds from all of the free late-night dinners and breakfasts in bed. Your hair color is grown out and your gray is showing because you haven’t had time to make it to the salon between your dates with Prince Charming. Your once perfect “single girl with lots of time on her hands” manicure has now turned into a botched home job because you’ve run out of time to visit the nail shop. And worst of all, you probably keep wearing the same outfits because you’ve already decided that you know what he likes. This old house is falling apart and in need of total renovation. Get a new look to keep your old man guessing. Get a new hairstyle, renew your contract at the gym, keep those nails fresh, purchase a couple new pieces for your wardrobe, and buy a new shade of lipstick. It’s a new you for you…the only bonus is that he’ll surely come sniffing. That’s what got his attention in the first place—what he saw visually. If you can turn his head once, you can turn it twice more.

 3. Say You, Say Me—After you’ve adapted to your new look and flaunted it before his dancing eyes, it’s time to remember what things about your personality attracted your ex to you in the first place. Were you funny? Did you read him poetry? Did you laugh at all of his jokes? Whatever it was, remember it and remind him of those qualities by being yourself. Remind him of the cool you and the good times you two used to spend together—the camping trip in the Rocky Mountains, the fishing trip with his parents, the time you two had sex in a public restroom. This will make him begin to dwell on the past and remember that the grass was actually greener on your side…Don’t be surprised if you get a few late-night calls during this stage. He may even try to come back to you, but remember that every step of the plan must be completed to make sure he won’t go roaming again. He’s got to work to get you back.

 4. Fellas, There’s a Jealous Boy in This Town—Nothing gets a man’s blood boiling like plain old jealousy. Fight fire with fire by making sure your old beau sees you with a new one. And it can’t just be any new beau—this man must be fine and obvious competition. And if history repeats itself, as it always has with just about every man since the beginning of time, he’ll react by attacking the situation head-on. He’ll want to know who the guy is and where he came from. Out of anger and confusion, he may try to accuse you of sneaking around when you two were together. Don’t reveal anything. Be vague with your answers. If he asks what you two have been up to, say, ‘A little bit of this and a little bit of that,’ and then rush off of the phone, because your Chinese food is at the door. Now, the hardest part of this step is that his jealousy may lead him to try to get you back. And this doesn’t mean he’ll try to get you back mentally. He’ll try to get you back physically. Sorry to say it, but it’s kind of like how dogs pee on trees to mark their territory. If one dog even senses that another dog has urinated on his tree, he’ll try to spray his special scent all over it. Don’t be offended, of course. No one’s saying you’re a tree and no one’s peeing on you. It’s just a man law of nature. So, he’ll try to get you into the sack. But be strong. Cross your legs…um, fingers.

 5. The Damsel in Distress: Oops, I Did it Again—(This is a tricky one for all those independent sisters.) Though they try to act like they don’t, men love to feel needed. You can be the smartest woman alive, but don’t touch the damn barbecue grill, mama. He may admire you for this and initially be attracted to you because of your independence. But the day he realizes you don’t need him, he’s about as gone as last month’s period. Stop trying to take on the world all by yourself, sister. Create a random act of need…a kitten in a tree, you fell while bicycling, your apartment is being painted and you need a place to stay. Then ask for his help. And when the moment comes, simply thank him for being there for you during your time of need. Say, ‘I don’t know what I would’ve done without you.’ But the thing is, don’t appear too needy. Men hate needy women. So don’t turn on the waterworks, and whatever you do, don’t beg him for anything. Just allow his help to be at his suggestion—not yours. Remember, if you were successful with the first four steps, he’s dying to be with you. Think of him as a woman with a credit card (with no limit) and you’re a pair of suede Gucci boots…it’s about to go down. He will acquiesce, and if things go as planned, you will wake up the next morning by his side…leading to step…

 6. Let Your Feelings Be Known—Now it’s time to open up and let him know how you feel about him. Tell him how much you love him and how much it hurt when he left. Tell him how it feels when he holds you, how he makes you smile when you think you’ve run out of reasons. Don’t be pushy or suggest that you get back together. That’s his job after he hears you out. Don’t worry…he will. Remember, by this point, he’s panting, begging to be with you. His mind is telling him so many things and when you express your feelings in a noncommittal way, he’ll jump right in to claim his prize. That’s you.