Yet Another Again

Yet Another Again
Tonja Howard

Once upon a time is not how this story begins. She wishes it had just been once. Hell she wishes it had never happened. Now she’s always looking over her shoulder, checking the locks of her apartment, feeling ruined. Always wondering. Always questioning. Why her? Why him? Why then? It was not supposed to be this way.
The night that started it all was six years ago in the dead of winter. He stepped off a bus and into her life. She wasn’t paying attention and walked square into him, spilling her caramel latte on his shoes. She apologized a million times, but he screamed “IT’S OKAY” over the noisy bus engine as it sped off. She offered her Burberry scarf to clean the mess, but he declined, saying that it doesn’t get that serious and if anything, he owes her another coffee. They casually exchanged offers and declines until they heard the church bells toll. It was 6 o’clock and Shanna started rummaging through her massive purse in search of her Blackberry. Yet again she would miss out on a chance at potentially true love. She thought aloud “I’ve already ruined my first impression.” “Blind date?” he asked. She nervously nodded. He laughed.
“What’s so funny?!” she asked.
“You really believe that’s gonna work?”
“Well I’m running out of options and I’m getting too old to be alone.”
She finally grasped her phone and dialed John. She promised to be there in 20 minutes and thanked him for being so patient. She then went on to describe her tan trench coat and matching beret, her Burberry scarf, and her big brown snow boots.
“Listen. . .”
“David.”
“. . . David, I’m sorry again about your shoes, but I really gotta go” she said as she walked backwards toward the corner. “Hope to see you around, though.”
“Trust me.You will.”
She rushes into the restaurant nearly hitting an exiting patron in the face.
“Whoa! Welcome to Cafe Fresco. I take you must be really hungry.”
“Actually I’m here to meet someone and I’m rather late.”
The hostess points over to a guy using bread sticks to drum along to Smokey Robinson’s “Cruisin.”
Shanna inhaled deeply as she shook her head thinking “Here we go again.”
“Hey you must be John,” she said as she reached out for a handshake.
He completely ignores the gesture, but hurriedly wipes the butter from his fingers and helps her remove her coat.
As she gets settled in, the waiter arrives and presents the specials and asks to take their drink order.
“I’ll take a glass of your house Merlot and the lady’ll have an iced tea.”
“Well excuse me, but I think I can order my own drink. I’ll have Chardonnay. Kendall Jackson will be fine. Thank you,” she said as she thought to herself, “This asshole has some nerve. He was already on strike two, not shaking my hand and put all that grease on my damned coat, now this. It’s gonna be a long night.”
“Yikes. I’m sorry. Didn’t mean to be pushy, but the last date I had was with a girl in AA. She told me to order her drink because given the opportunity, she would ‘fall off the bandwagon.’”
“Ohhh. How’d that date end?”
“Well it started out great. We had nice deep conversations about everything imaginable and found out we had a lot in common, but then I started to notice that heifer had been dipping her bread in my wine glass every time I turned my head. I told her go talk with her counselor before she slipped any further. I spent the rest of the evening alone.”
“Aww. How sad,” she said as she looked at him the same way you look when you see those “Feed the Children” commercials.
“Hey hey now. Don’t pity me. I’m a strong man. I can hold my own. It’s just better with woman, you know?”
“Can’t quite say that I do.”
“You know what I meant.”
They laughed softly as the waiter arrived with their drinks.
“Cay I get you folks started with an appetizer, soup, or salad? Or all you guys ready to order your entrees?”
“Yes, please. Can I get an order of crab cakes with an extra side of lemon butter sauce, if that’s okay with John?”
“Fine with me,” he snaps back jokingly, “but can I get some more bread sticks because I’ve murdered these?”
“Alright, and have we decided on entrees?”
“Chicken Parmesan” rang out harmoniously.
“You’ve got good taste for a skinny girl.”
“Don’t let the frame fool you, I eat. I’m not one of those girls who starves to stay thin.”
The waiter takes the menus and backs away quickly, probably to go tell his coworkers about the crazy couple at table 12 exchanging weight loss techniques.
Hours pass and wine glasses are refilled several times until Shanna and John are the only diners left in the restaurant.
“Oh shit! It’s 10:30. I’ve really gotta get goin’. I’ve gotta be at work early tomorrow. It’s my turn to bring the donuts, so I gotta leave my house half an hour earlier to get there on time.”
“Let me walk you home. I know you can handle yourself, but I wouldn’t feel like a man letting you go out there this late all by yourself.”
“Fine. Besides I think I’m gonna need help staying on my feet; that last glass did it to me.”
They go Dutch on the bill and stagger outside. They could here the waiter yell “FINALLY” before the door fully closed. Thirteen blocks doesn’t seem that far when you’re sober, but to Shanna and John, it seemed to take forever. When they finally to her apartment, they fiddle with their keys, neither of them wanting to leave the other’s presence. And then it happened. They gave each other one of those sloppy drunken kisses. The kind a dog gives his master after they’ve been apart all day.
“You wanna come inside?”
“I better not. Tonight was perfect and I wouldn’t wanna ruin it.”
And with that he walked to the curb and hailed a cab. She walked inside, turned on the bathroom light, and started to undress. Before she could get her leggings off, she heard a knock at the door.
“I knew you wanted this,” she said as she opened the door to see David.
“Hello beautiful, you look so amazing without that jacket.”
“How’d you know where I lived?!”
“I told you I’d see you again. I always keep my promises. I followed you to the restaurant. I waited til you sat down with what’s-his-face, and told the hostess that I was a private investigator, getting evidence t prove to your husband that you were cheating. She called you a ‘dirty wench’ and gave me your number from the reservation book. She gave me her number, too, as she had some suspicions of her own about her man, but I threw it away. My only concern was you. After I left, I called 411 and gave them your number and they told me your full name: Shanna Elizabeth Green, your address: 217 North Hamilton Lane, and your last known place of work: Suite 109 at the Lieberman Building. I got everything I needed to find you, baby girl.”
Her heart was pounding so hard she felt like it was falling out of her chest. She thought to herself, “If I run out, I’ll be stuck in the cold, but if I run in, I’ll be trapped. FUCK! I need more options.”
“Baby girl, what’s wrong?”
“Well, I just wasn’t expecting you.”
“Yeah I saw who you were expecting. That lame ass. If a woman invites you in, you gotta go in. He was just being rude. If I had an invitation, I would definitely take it.”
Like he needed an invitation. “How long have you been here?!”
“Long enough for your neighbors to think I’m a friend from Georgia that ‘really missed y’all’s daggum peeecan pie’” he said with a thick Southern drawl. “They let me stay with them for a little while and I told them stories from old t.v. shows to keep them entertained. Really sweet people.”
“Oh that’s wonderful, but I gotta go now. I’ve gotta work in the morning.”
“What’s the big rush? I wait hours for you to get here and you only let me talk five minutes. Now you’re being the rude one. Come on let me talk to you for a little while longer.”
She thought about it for a few then decided to let him in. If anything was to happen, her neighbors would be able to give a full description of him to police. She sat as far away from him as she could, but he kept scooting closer and closer until he was touching her thigh with his.
“Baby you really gotta loosen up. How we supposed to get together if you being so closed up?!”
“What? I’m sorry, David, but I just had a date with somebody that I really have a lot in common with. We’re both in sale, love to cook, like the same movies and books, and I just don’t wanna risk that. If it doesn’t work out then I’ll look you up. “Fat chance” she thought to herself.
“If that’s what you really want then I have to let you be with him. I’ll let myself out. Hope you dream of me tonight. I know you’ll be in my dreams.”
The next morning as she walked to her office, she noticed a trail of rose petals. “I told John I loved roses, but I didn’t think he’d go this far. . .” she thought aloud. Her thoughts came to a halt as she saw police and caution tape surrounding her office.
“What the hell happened here?!”
An officer approached her. “Ms. Green, we’d like to ask you some questions.”
“Sure officer anything. What’s happened?!”
“We found this man’s head on your desk” as he shows her a picture of John.
“OH MY GOD!!! We had dinner last night and he walked me home but then he left.”
“About what time would you say he left?”
“At around 11.”
“Are you sure 11p.m.?”
“Yes I’m sure. Do you have any idea who did this?!”
“We were hoping you could tell us. We found kisses all over his face in your shade of lipstick you’re wearing now and a pair of panties stuffed in his mouth. We’re gonna need you to come with us downtown. Shanna Green, you are under arrest for the murder of John DeMarcus. Anything you say can and will . . .”
It was all like a bad dream. How could this have happened? Was David really that crazy? How was framing her for the murder even gonna get him what he wanted? She didn’t know, but was soon to find out.
When they arrived at the 7th district police center, Shanna was fingerprinted and directed to sit quietly in an interrogation room. About an hour had passed and she had fallen asleep on the cold metal table.
“Rise and shine, baby girl.”
This can’t be happening. This can’t be happening.