This Can't be Life Read online

  The whole salon could be seen from the barber’s loft. The fern entwined, chrome railing served as a safety net from a half story drop to the freshly polished bamboo floors that covered every inch of the salon. The huge floor to ceiling picture window, which was custom installed, allowed a beautifully serene, treetop view from the inside. The window was cleverly designed to mimic a mirror so, from the outside looking in, you couldn’t see through it. It afforded my clients the privacy they loved.

  From the moment clients came through the front door of Sanctuary, they felt at peace. I stressed to the receptionist I hired that it starts with her. Clients should be greeted with nothing but warm smiles. That was one of the things I hated most when I worked at other salons—people that worked there had the stankest attitudes.

  Once in my office, I hung my handbag on the chrome coat hanger by the door. I walked into the pantry, made myself a cup of Tazo Chai tea, and retreated to my office. I stepped around my rectangular, glass desk and plopped down on the burnt orange toned, leather office chair. As I sipped my tea, I began opening and reading my mail until I heard someone walking through the salon.

  “Who is that?” I yelled from my office.

  “Al, gal. Whoo ya tink it was?” he asked, in his light Jamaican accent.

  “What in the hell are you doing up so early?” I asked, as I stood up and walked out of my office to greet my good friend.

  “Ya know Rasta man nehva sleep,” he joked, embracing me tenderly. “How ya feelin’, dahlin’? You know me worry ‘bout cha in da ‘ospital. You alrigh’, gal?” he asked, putting on. He went in and out of his old ass Jamaican accent whenever he felt like it.

  “Yeah, I’m fine, silly man,” I laughed, releasing his embrace. “You want some coffee or tea or anything else to drink?”

  “Yeah, I’ll get meself someting. Gowan back to ya bizness,” he said, and playfully pushed me.

  I watched Alson Smitey as he walked into the pantry and realized that I hadn’t seen him in over three weeks. I noticed that he’d let his beard grow back and his locks had gotten a little longer. I still had him by a couple of inches when it came to height, but with that thin frame of his, I couldn’t miss that he had grown a couple of inches around his belly.

  Some people thought Al was a little intimidating, but not too many things intimidate me. Al was one of the nicest and most generous men I had ever met.

  I met him close to six years ago through mutual friends. He first asked me out on a date and, when I refused, he said that he would pay me. Of course, I laughed in his face and walked away — I don’t know what type of hooker he thought me to be. Because he had a lot of money and had no problem spending it liberally, he had many women at his disposal. Al had a reputation for taking you to the Four Seasons for breakfast and to Saks for lunch. That’s just how he lived, on a whim. Money was never an issue. Although Al was outgoing and never shy, he never once disclosed how he made his money. He never mentioned having his own business or what he did every day, which always worried me. He had too much money for it to be something legal without everyone knowing how he made it.

  Al and I became close friends because we always seemed to end up in the same place at the same time. We’d find ourselves talking and laughing with each other most of the night, while everyone else wondered what we were laughing about. He was the big brother I never had. I know for sure that we were much better as friends than we could have ever been as lovers, especially since he finally admitted that he had been married for over 10 years.

  If I ever needed anything, Al was the first person I’d call. He’d give me whatever I wanted without so much as an explanation as to what I needed it for. If ever there were a time that I didn’t bring my problems to Al and he later found out, he would literally be offended. He was always willing to help me, no matter what. About two years into our friendship, Al came to visit me at my apartment. He could tell immediately that something was wrong with me. That day, I had left the salon I was working in and I was never going back there. I had promised myself that when the next fight broke out in that place, I would be gone. Unfortunately, it happened sooner rather than later.

  I was flat ironing my last customer at about 6:00 on a Friday evening while Tameika, one of the other hair stylists, was pressing her client’s hair. She burned the lady about three times and kept on talking to one of the other stylists as if it hadn’t happened. She had the nerve to tell the lady it was just the heat from the comb, but the lady insisted that she felt the comb touch her scalp. Every time I saw the lady jump from the hot comb touching her scalp, I knew Tameika was getting closer and closer to a beat down. But she just kept on running her mouth and burned the lady again. It all happened so quickly. The lady jumped up, knocked Tameika out cold, and walked right out the salon with half of her hair straight and the other half an afro. It was the funniest and most ridiculous thing I’d ever seen in a place of business. What’s more shameful is that it wasn’t close to the first fight that had broken out in that place. But it was definitely the last one for me. I knew I’d be taking all my shit with me when I walked out of that door that evening. Those people never heard from me again.

  I hated working for someone else, anyway. Having to deal with people’s crazy mood swings and the way they chose to run their business pissed me off. I knew I could’ve taken the money I’d gotten from Byron and opened my own salon, but I was too scared to take that chance. I didn’t want to lose everything I had. I didn’t believe in myself enough to invest my own money into a business. Plus, I was starting to feel like I didn’t want to do it anymore. I was ready to give up, but Al was my biggest supporter and wouldn’t let me give up on my childhood dream. So, he came up with the bright idea of opening my own salon.

  Al already owned a small commercial building on Melrose, so he fronted me all of the money for renovations and I leased the biggest of the three spaces in his building for under the market rental rate. All Al wanted in return was 30 percent of the booth rentals for the first two years, or until his renovation money was repaid. I couldn’t have been happier. I just wanted to work for myself and hire my own people so I could have a place that was peaceful and not full of drama. So, that was that. I hired someone to renovate it just the way I wanted it, and Al paid all of the expenses. Plus, he gave me all the start up money I needed for products and equipment as a gift. Al believed in me and my vision for Sanctuary, and never once asked to be involved in the business side of it. He knew I could handle it and I’ll forever be indebted to Al for his kindness. There wasn’t anything that I wouldn’t do for him if he asked.

  “Why ya no answer de phone when I call a few minute ago,” Al asked, interrupting my trip down memory lane. He sat down on the love seat against the wall, not far from my desk.

  “I didn’t know it was you. What’s up, babe?”

  “Jus’ wanted to stop and see ya before I left da States for a while.”

  “How long you gonna be gone?” I asked.

  “Few monts. So, I’m gon’ need ya ta gowan an hol’ on to da lease money and let’s call it even on da boot rentals, ya ‘ear?”

  “All right, that’s cool. Thanks. Is everything all right?” I asked, afraid of his answer.

  “Yeah, everyting coo. Jes needin’ ta git away for a while,” he sighed. I knew he was lying. Something wasn’t right and I could feel it in my gut, but I didn’t want to ask. I knew that if it was something going on that he felt I needed to know, he would tell me.

  “So ya car was toetal’d out, hmm? When ya gon’ git anotha? You need any help wit’ it?”

  “Naw, insurance payin’. Getting a Range!” I replied, with a wide smile on my face.

  “De udda one was brand new.”

  “Naw, it was almost a year old,” I replied, with a smirk. “Ain’t nothing wrong with switching it up. Plus, I’ve been having that damned Range Rover Sport on my mind since they came out.”

  “Yeah, I ‘ear dat. I ‘ear dat. I gotta be ‘edin’ outta ‘ear, though.�
�� We both rose from our seats at the same time. The feeling in the pit of my stomach told me that this would be the last time I would see him. I felt this overwhelming sense of gloom as I walked over to where he stood and held him in a long embrace.

  “I really appreciate everything that you’ve done for me, Al. You couldn’t be a better brother to me if we had the same blood running through our veins. I really hope everything is okay,” I whispered, feeling a lump grow in my throat.

  “Don’t worry yaself, gerl,” he replied, releasing his grip that helped lock our embrace. I walked him to the front door of the salon, locked it after he walked out, and watched him until he hopped in his silver Bentley Phantom and drove away. Tears dropped from my eyes as I noticed a manila envelope sitting on the counter of the front desk. I went back to my office with the envelope in hand. When I opened it and saw what was inside, I cried, knowing for sure that I wouldn’t see Al again.

  Talise

  I opened my eyes to the sun’s rays peering through my plantation shutters, greeting me with a new day. I peeked at the alarm clock on my nightstand and was pissed to see that it was barely 6:15 a.m. For the life of me, I couldn’t understand why, on my day off, I was always awake at the same damned time that I was rudely awakened every morning that I had to go to the office. I would bet my life that if I had to go to work today, I would still be tired, trying to hit the snooze button to catch a couple more minutes.

  I rose from my bed, walked into the bathroom, looked in the mirror, and almost scared myself to death. It took a minute to recognize the face that was staring back at me and, once I did, I was relieved that I had an appointment to get my hair done today. Hair all over the place, eyes all crusty, and breath smelling like Lord knows what; it’s a good thing I wasn’t waking up next to a man. I opened the bathroom counter drawer and pulled out a brush and a hair clip. I brushed my hair, then twisted the back around and pulled it off my neck. I snapped the black, plastic clip around its thickness to keep it out of the way and finished my morning bathroom regimen. I then slipped on cotton, charcoal grey leggings and a white tee shirt, and grabbed my Nike Air Max running sneakers out of the closet. Once I was fully dressed and ready for my Saturday morning run, I began stretching my legs to get them ready for the pounding they were bound to take.

  I walked out of my building and jogged north, up Crescent Heights at a slow, rhythmic pace. The cool and refreshing air caressed my face as I made a left onto a scarcely populated Sunset Blvd. As I hit what used to be Dublin’s, a popular nightclub, I felt myself relaxing and my mind releasing all of the stress that had accumulated since my last run. My body moved mechanically, effortlessly, and guided the way as if I were blind. As I passed the House of Blues, I stepped up my pace and began to feel the adrenaline pulsating through my body. With my legs burning and arms pumping, I allowed myself to think of him—Dr. Malachi Edmonds. My stomach fluttered. I was anticipating our date tomorrow and was nervous as hell.

  I made a right, crossing Sunset and headed up La Cienega Blvd, which turned into Miller Dr, going north. Pushing myself up the hilly street lined with beautiful homes, I felt strangely light. Perspiration ran down my face and soaked into my shirt. My sneakers tapped the pavement as I pressed up the hill, enduring sweet pain. The burn in my legs was pleasurable. My endorphins were giving me a high like no other. I kept up the hill for another few miles before crossing the street and starting my decent down the hill. Sprinting all the way, maxing out, punishing myself for not allotting time to run every day, I knew that I would make it back to my apartment in record time. There was absolutely nothing that could compare to this feeling.

  It was 8:00 a.m. by the time I made it back to my apartment. Disappointed, I stripped and hopped into the shower, welcoming the spatter of cool water that massaged my stiff body. “I should’ve kept going,” I said aloud, not able to accept the combined eight mile run. “Should’ve done ten. Should’ve at least done ten!” I was never satisfied with the grueling workouts I put my body through. I shaved my legs and armpits and then cleansed myself thoroughly. Once out, I lubricated my body with Nivea’s thick moisturizing concoction and slid on my lavender, cotton/spandex, spaghetti strap nightie that I’d purchased from Victoria’s Secret a couple of years ago.

  I toasted myself a bagel, immersed it in light cream cheese, and poured myself a glass of orange juice. Sitting at the table eating my breakfast, I thought to call Simone at the salon to see how she was doing. I got up to grab the phone off the bar just as it began to ring. Glancing at the caller ID and not recognizing the number, I answered anyway.

  “Good morning.”

  “Good morning to you, too. May I speak to Talise, please?” My stomach dropped when I heard his voice. I immediately knew that it was Dr. Edmonds. I felt giddy, like a teenager.

  “You’re speaking to her. How’re you?” I sat back down at the table and took a sip of my juice.

  “I’m good. Do you know who this is?”

  “Let me take a wild guess,” I said, jokingly. “Could this be Dr. Edmonds?” I laughed.

  “To my patients, yes, but to you, no. It’s Malachi,” he said, with a smile in his voice.

  “Sorry. It’s going to take some getting used to leaving the ‘Doctor’ off your name. What’s going on?”

  “Nothing much. At the hospital, thinking about you. Thought I’d give you a call and make sure that you haven’t canceled on me yet.”

  “Oh, so you didn’t get my message?” I asked, sounding seriously convincing.

  “Actually, I didn’t. So it’s off for tomorrow?” he inquired, sounding disappointed.

  “No, I’m just joking with you. Actually, I’m really looking forward to tomorrow,” I admitted.

  “You, too, huh? You had me disappointed for a moment,” he laughed, “Well, I’m sure we’re going to have a good time. What’s on your agenda for today?”

  “Well, I just came back from my morning run and I’m having breakfast now. I have a hair appointment at 10:00 and I’ll probably do a little shopping later. What are your plans? At the hospital all day?”

  “I’ve been here since Friday night. I lost a patient this morning…about to leave here in a couple of hours, though.” Noticing the hint of moroseness in his voice, I gave my condolences.

  “Thanks. It happens, unfortunately. I can only do so much and then it’s out of my hands and into…well, who knows? So you exercise regularly?” he asked, changing the subject.

  “I try to. I run every Saturday and Sunday, and through the week, I get on my Stairmaster in the morning before I go to work. How about you?” I asked.

  “Yeah, I try to run a few miles everyday. So, is it okay for me to plan our day tomorrow, or would you like some input?”

  “Hey, knock yourself out. Just let me know what kind of day it’s going to be so I can wear something appropriate.”

  “Well, I have an idea of what I want us to do so, dress casual and comfortable and bring a change of clothes. Maybe a bathing suit…and some nighties, just in case you’re having too much fun and decide to stay out all night,” he laughed. “Can I pick you up at noon?” he asked, with a smile in his voice.

  “Sure, noon is fine, but what happened to 2:00?” I laughed.

  “I can’t wait that long. I’m like a kid on Christmas morning,” he joked, sounding sexier than ever.

  “Well, I’m really looking forward to it.”

  “Good. I am, too. I’m gonna go ahead and finish up so I can get out of here. It was good talking to you, Talise.”

  “Same here Malachi. I hope your day gets better.”

  “It already has. Have a good day. I’ll see you tomorrow at noon.”

  “Okay. Bye,” I said, before pressing the off button on my cordless phone. Not able to prevent the smile that formed across my face, I relented and let it spread until my cheeks started hurting.

  I pulled up to Sanctuary and was happy to find a parking space right in front. When I walked in the salon, I was greeted warmly by the
receptionist, Monique.

  “Hey, Talise. I haven’t seen you in a while. How are you?” She asked, after hanging up the phone with a client.

  “Hey, Monique, I’m fine, how are you?”

  “I’m tired, girl. You have an appointment today with Simone or Stacey?”

  “Stacey. Is he here yet?”

  “Yeah, he’s back there.”

  “All right, girl, I’ll talk to you later.”

  Simone had Sanctuary set up so you couldn’t see past the lobby when you walked in. Clients had to walk around the large, concealing wall behind the front desk in order to enter the salon. I walked around to the right, which was closer to Stacey’s chair.

  “Hey, sistah,” Stacey said, embracing me.

  “Hey, baby. You ready for me?” I asked, taking my seat at his station.

  “You know I’m always ready for you, honey. Let me go to the back and make some tea. Do you want anything? Some water?”

  “Yeah, a bottle of water is good. Where is Simone?”

  “She in her office on the phone with her car dealer, girl. I’ll tell her you here,” he replied, strutting to the pantry which made me chuckle.

  Stacey and I were about the same height. If you asked me, it was five foot seven. If you asked him, it was five foot eight. His peanut butter complexion and beautiful droopy eyes made him eye candy for men and women. Stacey’s hair stretched to the middle of his back when straightened, which he rarely did. The majority of the time, his thick curly hair was pulled into a ponytail and wrapped up in a bun.

  “Hey, sweetie.” Simone walked over to me and gave me a peck on the cheek.