Naked Confessions by Tracee A Hanna

Author:Tracee A Hanna [Hanna, Tracee A.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781935883432
Publisher: Augustus Publishing

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

HELL WEEK

Linda lived in a rundown apartment building adjacent to the freeway. It was a place where her cat served as pest control. As she went on and on in an attempt to rationalize her living conditions I thought to myself, wow. How in the hell did she really end up here? How was it possible for a single college educated woman with no children to mismanage her life to the degree of homelessness? I could have never foreseen that the truth of her life’s journey would be more shocking than the current result.

That night I lay in bed thinking about Tyrique. I wondered about his angle. Was he trying to make me fall in love with him or was he just running game? Whatever his intentions, I had my own agenda. However I did not know if I should reach out or run. I knew there was more to Mr. Carter than met the eye. I pondered my willingness to wait and see how things played out. I refused to allow myself to get drawn into a situation that could hurt me.

As a neglected wife with a philandering husband I was easy prey. However once permanent disability and a cancer prognosis was added, my disposition changed. I had nothing to lose. I chose to look at my time with Tyrique logically. We had some laughs. The sex was hot. Nothing more, nothing less. The decision was made. I chose to run. If only I had chosen a less slippery road.

The two days that I spent in Linda’s home turned out to be quite revealing, which should have served as forewarning. The nicest things I could have said about my visit were, she kept a tidy home, she loved her cat, and she had impeccably styled hair. Everything else about her was a hot mess. Linda suffered from a ghetto mentality. She blamed the Man, the system, and skinny bitches for everything that went wrong in her life. In truth she had poor taste in men, lacked money management skills, and basic social graces.

Linda boasted about the many lovers she had managed to juggle at the same time. Her social life, as she saw it was one for the record books. The ugly truth of the matter made me want to cry for her. Linda had loaned money to men who showed their gratitude by giving her sex. There was always an excuse as to why she had never been able to recoup one dime of those funds over the years. She rationalized it all away with one simple statement. “Life ain’t easy for a black man in America.”

Linda called every man in her little black book to say goodbye, many of whom never returned her call. She asked the ones who did call back to help her pack up her apartment. One man visited her late Thursday night. I helped her cook a lovely meal for him before I made myself scarce. I later discovered that he was her part-time lover and her pusher.

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