Pamela Yaye - Love on the Rocks

“Food addiction, my ass,” she grumbled, tossing the magazine onto the floor. She was fit and fabulous whether she was a size eighteen or a size ten. Just because the editorial staff didn’t believe her didn’t mean it wasn’t true. She’d lost the weight without even trying. Having been to Guadalajara numerous times, she’d felt comfortable walking from her host family’s house to the institute where she taught English classes and studied Spanish.

Her host mother, Ima, was weight-conscious and took great pride in preparing tasty, low-calorie meals for the family. Three weeks after arriving in Mexico, Tangela had lost twelve pounds. Six months later, she was down to a size fourteen and by the end of the year, she was at the lowest weight she’d ever been.

Tangela wished she could curl up in bed and watch TV, but she had to get ready for work tomorrow and her clothes weren’t going to pack themselves. After trading in India. Arie for the Black Eyed Peas, she grabbed one of the suitcases from the back of her closet.

As she heaved the suitcase onto the bed, it fell open, sending photo albums, stray pictures and DVDs crashing to the bedroom floor. For a moment, Tangela stood there motionless, unsure of what to do. She’d been meaning to get rid of these old mementos, but hadn’t gotten around to it yet. Warrick wasn’t her boyfriend anymore, but it just didn’t seem right tossing perfectly good pictures into the trash.

Tangela had always considered herself a fairly with-it per son. In spite of having been raised by a woman who had a laundry list of psychological problems, Tangela had graduated high school with a near-perfect GPA and worked full-time to put herself through college. But when Tangela had met Warrick, she’d fallen hopelessly in love. Moving in with him had cemented their commitment, and he became everything to her, the only real family she’d ever had.

Against her better judgment, she picked up the tape marked Spring in New Orleans. Tangela still remembered the time they’d spent in the Big Easy. They’d shared passionate kisses, made love on the beach and eaten at the best Creole restaurant in the city. It was there, while they celebrated their fifth anniversary, that Warrick had proposed. Tangela had been too mesmerized by the sight of the pink canary diamond to notice his tense body language, but months later, when she’d watched the video he’d secretly had taped by a hotel concierge staff person, she’d seen the uncertainty in his eyes.

Enough memories, she decided. To purge her thoughts, she turned up the music and forced all images of Warrick from her mind. It was time to cut her ties with her ex once and for all. As much as she hated destroying the video and other mementos, she couldn’t hold on to them any longer. If she was serious about getting married by her next birthday, she had to quit thinking about Warrick and make room in her heart for the right man to come along.

Scooping up the albums and videos, she marched into the kitchen, dumped everything into the trash bin and slammed the lid. “There,” she said, smacking her hands together. “Goodbye and good riddance!”

“Attention, passengers. The pilot has switched on the seat-belt light and we ask that you remain seated for the remainder of the flight.” Stepping out from behind the curtain that separated the two cabins, Tangela delivered a smile to the sleepy-eyed passengers occupying business class. “On behalf of the pilot and the entire American Airlines crew, we’d like to thank you for choosing American Airlines and we look forward to serving you in the future.”

For the remainder of the flight, Tangela handed out cups of water, retrieved headphones and collected garbage. When the plane touched down promptly at six forty-five, passengers broke out in applause, drawing chuckles from the flight attendants.

“Thanks for flying with American Airlines,” Tangela said cheerfully when the final passenger disembarked. “Have a great day!” Her mouth ached from smiling, and she could feel a migraine coming on, but she kept her smile in place until the last businessperson was out of sight. After catering to a hundred and thirty people on a flight from Chicago, then bidding them all goodbye, Tangela needed an ice pack, two aspirin and an apple martini.

“You’re one heck of an actress,” Mr. Connelly teased, patting her on the back like a proud father. “I thought you were going to lose it when that snot-nosed kid started banging on the cockpit door, but you held it together. Good job, Tangela.”

He returned to the cockpit, and Tangela glanced around the first-class cabin. This morning, the Boeing 737 had been clean enough to eat off the floor, and now it looked as if a twister had ripped through it. Scraps of papers, wads of tissue and food crumbs now littered the carpet and she could see pink bubble gum wedged between two of the second-row seats.

Mumbling Spanish expletives, she grabbed a pair of latex gloves from the overhead bin and yanked them on. After two grueling back-to-back flights, Tangela was anxious to go home, but she couldn’t even think about leaving until the aircraft was spic-and-span.

“At the rate you’re going, we’ll never get out of here!” Poking her head into the first-class cabin was her friend and the lead flight attendant, Carmen Sanchez. “Get a move on it, chiquita.”

“Entonces matame ahora mismo.”

“Put you out of your misery? At least you didn’t get stuck in the back thwarting the plans of kinky couples anxious to join the mile-high club!” Tangela laughed.

“I can’t say I blame them,” Carmen confessed. “I know what it feels like to be in heat. I haven’t seen Hugo for ten days and mama needs some sugar!”

“Please, no more stories about how magnificent Hugo is in bed.” Tangela fought to keep a straight face. “I’ll run out of here screaming if you do!”

Carmen stuck out her tongue. “You’re just jealous.”

“You’re right, I am.”

“It’s been that long, huh?”

“Girl, you have no idea.” Tangela dumped an empty water bottle into the plastic bag. “I’m going to have to watch a how-to video the next time it happens!”

“What’s going on with you and that Demetrius guy?”

“He’s really sweet, but I can’t be with someone who smokes weed, even if it’s only ‘recreational,’” she said, making quotation marks with her fingers.

“Oh, no, not another one!” Carmen laughed. “My ex used to smoke pot, too. After three months of him eating me out of house and home, I kicked his sorry butt to the curb.”

“Sometimes I think I should just give up on this stupid quest to find a husband,” Tangela admitted. Since Halloween, Tangela had been on one bad date after another. The singles’ potluck dinner at her apartment complex had given her something to do last Sunday, and although she’d met several attractive men, she hadn’t made a love connection. Tangela worked hard, took care of herself and had her own money, but she couldn’t find a man to save her life. “I don’t know why I’m kidding myself. Mr. Right probably doesn’t even exist.”

Picking up on the sadness in her voice, Carmen took the garbage bag and motioned for her to sit down. “You’re going to be fine, Tangela. And one day you’ll find the perfect guy.”

“I’m so tired of going home to an empty house. In Guadalajara, I got used to having someone to talk to and do stuff with. Now, I’m back here and there’s no one. Most of my friends are either married, engaged or in a committed relationship.”

“Cheer up,” Carmen admonished, patting her hand. “You’re seeing Oliver later and he always takes you somewhere nice.”

“He sent me a text message about an hour ago. He can’t make it. Something came up.”