Waiting to Exhale Read Online Free PDF

ready to cross. When I heard "If Only for One Night" by Luther Vandross come on, I was just about to head off the floor, when he reached for my hand and said, "One more. Please?"
    Thank you, Jesus, I thought. Lionel put his arms around me and held me close, so close that to keep from getting lipstick on his shirt I had to turn my head to the side, and what else could I do but rest it on his chest, which was firm and hot? His hands circled my back, and I heard him say, "You sure feel good."
    I lifted my head and looked up at him. "You don't feel too bad yourself," I said. He sort of laughed and pressed my head back down. That's when I went ahead and closed my eyes, feeling the run run down my leg, but I didn't care. I exhaled and pretended that this man was mine. That he was everything I'd ever dreamed of, that he was the one I'd been waiting for all my life.
    When the record ended, Lionel walked and I floated back to his table, but now the other empty seat was filled with the woman who had given me the compliment in the bathroom.
    "Savannah, I want you to meet a good friend of mine. Denise, Savannah."
    She smiled at me and said, "We've sort of already met."
    "Hello again," I said, and didn't know if I should sit down or not. But I sat down.
    Lionel looked a little bewildered. Then Denise scooted her chair as close to his as it would go, put her arms around him, and said, "You haven't danced with me all night, Lionel." She got up and stood directly in front of him and took him by the hands. He got up and looked at me as if he was apologizing. I gave him what I thought to be an understanding look and tried not to stare at them as they headed out to the dance floor. I couldn't even hear the song, because I was hypnotized watching him hold her the way he had just held me. Before I knew it, I had reached into my purse and lit a cigarette and forced myself to look in the other direction, because I couldn't stand this. When I went to uncross my legs and the run zipped down to my ankle and I felt my heel pop through the hole and stick to the lining of my shoe, that was my cue. I put out my cigarette, picked my purse up off the table, and headed for the coatroom. If I was lucky, I could still catch Dick Clark.

    Chapter 2

Waiting to Exhale (1992)

SUDDENLY SINGLE
    Right after Bernadine's husband told her he was leaving her for a white girl, she stood in the kitchen doorway, snatched the eighteen hot rollers out of her hair, and threw every last one of them at him. A few loose curls fell over her eyes and into her mouth, so she pulled them behind her ears.
    'Tm sorry," John said, and finished the last of his coffee. "You can have the house, but I want the condo."
    "House?" she said. "Condo?" Bernadine tried to look directly into John's eyes in order to figure out if this was some kind of joke, bu t f or some reason her vision was blurred. He was out of focus, and she couldn't tell if the expression on his face was fear or relief. They had both known for over a year that everything between them was wrong. There weren't any more excuses, apologies, or explanations for his not coming home. Intimacy was out of the question. Neither desired the other. And when they did sleep in the same bed, their backs barely brushed.
    Rows of perspiration had trickled down the nape of her neck into her hair and soaked through the top of her nightgown. A lone stream was making its way down her spine. But Bernadine didn't care. She squinted, hoping to get a closer look at John. It was indifference she saw all over his face. His shoulders were so erect when he popped a Pop-Tart into the toaster that she knew he didn't really give a damn how she felt or what her reaction to his announcement would be. She couldn't decide what else his face carried. Now she was trying to remember just how he'd said it. It seemed as if he'd told her with the same tone he used when he'd say, "I'm going to the store, do you want something?" or, "Is anything good on HBO tonight?"