5 Minutes and 42 Seconds by Timothy Williams Page B

stayed in the bed with me for the first time in three days. He’s been working out. He wasn’t wearing cologne but I could smell his deodorant, and that’s all I needed. Those light-brown eyes, all that height, it’s been a long time—a long time. My vibrator’s out of batteries. I almost leaned over and asked him to make love to me, but as my momma would say, that was just foolish talkin’ for me. Fashad don’t want this no more. He probably already busted his nut with her . I guess this old pussy is leftovers. What a nigga like Fashad want with leftovers when he can have fresh fish? He comes to me for the look of it all—nice house, perfect kids. He’s one of those people who just have to look like they have it all, and I’m the one who makes sure he does. To Fashad this family is just a set of matching accessories. And what does that make us look like? A bunch of fools, that’s what.
    It was clear to me I couldn’t have him, so I started longing for the next best thing—the money. I was up a good two hours before he was, layin’ there thinkin’ about what a million dollars buys. I had twenty-one questions.
    Soon as he was woke, I got to going.
    â€œBaby, if they comin’ after us, why don’t we just bury the money now instead of waiting for them to get here?” I asked, massaging his shoulders the way Delilah must have rubbed Samson’s.
    â€œThey might be watchin’ my accounts,” he explained.
    â€œAnd I can’t risk laundering and tax-evasion charges. I can’t use a real bank for all that money, so I keep it in the TV. When the drugs come in from New York, I got to use that money to buy them.” He shrugged me off his shoulders and went inside his walk-in closet. That bastard, patronizing me like I’m somebody’s child. He think he’s soooo smart, and I’m soooo dumb. What he don’t know is I’m only pretending to be clueless. That way I stay one step ahead of him.
    â€œThis whole thing don’t make no sense. Even if we hide the money and flush the coke, you’re still going to be arrested, so what’s the point?” I asked, just to let him know that his brilliant plan wasn’t all that brilliant.
    â€œIf I get arrested, I’m going to need you to use that money to get me a good lawyer.”
    â€œThat’s a good point. But why don’t we take some of it out now and put it someplace where can’t nobody find it instead of waiting until the trumpet sounds. That way even if they find the trapdoor inside of the closet they won’t get to the money we have hidden somewhere else.”
    â€œAin’t no such place. I like my money where I sleep,” said Fashad flippantly.
    â€œDammit, Fashad,” I yelled, slamming my fist into his side of the bed, half expecting it to be cold as usual. Nothing I say is ever good enough. No matter how much sense I make it’s always the wrong idea. I know why he think that way. He think since he can fool me with her I must be completely stupid. I had to let him know then and there that I wasn’t nobody’s fool. I ran inside that closet to make sure he heard every word I said. “You don’t always sleep here,” I told him, trying to steady my voice.
    He sucked his teeth and looked at me like he didn’t owe me no explanations, like I wasn’t worth arguing with. He straightened his tie and walked out of the closet.
    I watch the stories every day, but today I imagined I was on the show myself. You should have seen the way Fernando looked at me, and the way I looked at him. When we made love I felt the passion. I felt the anger. I felt the hatred fucking with the love, and vice versa. I saw us giving birth to twins, and naming them Sascha and Monique. I was shopping in Paris. I was having tea in London. Just as suddenly, I was back on my couch. A commercial break. So here I am once again, in my house