by Jazz Jordan
“But we can’t just—”
“Why not? It’s clear to me that you ain’t got a man, at least not tonight. Your fine ass shouldn’t be sleepin’ alone.”
“It’s…complicated.”
“Naw, dis shit’s easy, Kai. Just gimme your address, and I’m there.”
“I’m going through some things in my relationship, Ace, and I don’t wanna make it worse.”
“You love him?”
“Yeah.”
“Then how come you talkin’ all that nasty shit to me?”
“I don’t know.”
“Lemme guess. He’s a good dude, but he don’t satisfy you.”
“It isn’t that.”
“You ain’t makin’ no sense to me, but females be impossible to figure out anyway. Do me a favor and take another look at the picture I sent you before you go to sleep. You got my number, and you can use it whenever and however you want.”
After I hung up the phone, I thought about Ace’s parting words. I had gone over a month and half without sex, and my last time with Deandre left a lot to be desired. My collection of battery-operated toys could get me through my horniest moments, but there was no substitute for being in the arms of a real man.
Ace was sexy as hell, but I was reluctant to rekindle anything with him. He’d done me wrong once, in a big way, and I had a feeling the drama wouldn’t end with him. For all I knew, if I gave in to the urge to go to his house one night, I might encounter anything from a fanatical baby-mama to some kind of New Jack City-style cocaine operation. Still, I needed to get some soon, and if enough time passed without any word from Deandre, I knew I just might have to give in and take that old flame up on his offer to put my fire out once again.
CHAPTER 17
Mama and I were in the kitchen, preparing Sunday dinner. I opened a box of Jiffy cornbread mix and poured the yellow powder in a bowl. She stood at the stove, stirring a big pot of seafood gumbo; the aroma made my mouth water. My maternal grandmother was from New Orleans, and the recipe had been passed down through several generations. I was glad I was wearing my most loose-fitting jeans, because I planned to have seconds and thirds, if I could even stop there.
I smiled at my mother. “Mmm, that smells so good, Mama.”
She nodded. “I wanted to cook your favorite dish today.”
“I hope you didn’t go to too much trouble.”
“Hush, girl! It ain’t no trouble at all to make sure my baby girl has a happy birthday.”
“Thanks, Mama.”
“I know you’re still feeling down about Deandre, but all you need to do is pray over it. If he’s the man God wants you to be with, it’ll all work out.”
“You’ve always got such a positive outlook, even when things get rough and confusing. How do you do it?”
“That’s the only way to be, honey. How do you think I’ve managed to look so good at my age?” She fluffed her curls like she was doing a photo shoot for Ebony.
I chuckled. “Oh, Mama! I love you so much.”
We heard the jingle of keys unlocking the side door.
“Hey, y’all!” LaNaya called out as she walked into the kitchen.
I hadn’t seen my sister for months and a lot had changed about her appearance. Now, she was wearing her hair in a long, silky, golden weave. She was dressed in a fitted black jumpsuit and matching alligator boots. I also noticed that her breasts were bigger than mine. LaNaya’s boob job and blonde hair had transformed her into a chocolate-dipped Anna Nicole Smith.
She embraced Mama and kissed her cheek, then hugged me and said, “Happy birthday, big head!”
“Where the hell…uh, excuse me,” I said, stopping my profanity when my mother glared at me. “Where the heck have you been?” I asked.
“My new job has been keeping me busy, but I wouldn’t miss the opportunity to celebrate your b-day.”
“Where are the kids?” Mama asked.
“Javon has them this weekend,” she explained.
Mama shook her head. “Lord, help my grandbabies!”
“Mama, as triflin’ as he might be, he’s still their daddy.”
“God as my witness, that man better not lay a finger on those little ones!”
“He never has, Mama. Javon only took his anger on me, but that’s all in the past.”
“I’m real proud of you for leaving him. I know it’s not easy for a woman in your shoes to walk away.”
“It’s a whole lot easier now that I’ve got a career so I can support myself and the kids.”
“What exactly is your job, LaNaya?” I asked.
“I work for an IT company.”
“Huh? What in the world qualifies you to work in IT? I bet you don’t even know what IT stands for.”
“You can hate all you want, but that IT company got me that brand new whip!”
I looked out through the blinds and saw a sparkling gold Mercedes Benz E-Class, parked right there in Mama’s driveway.
Mama threw her hands up. “Girls, please stop this carrying on. I’m ready to sit down and have a nice dinner. Can we make that happen?”
“Yes, ma’am,” LaNaya and I said in unison.
The moment brought back childhood memories. Back in the day, Mama didn’t hesitate to swat our little behinds with her belt when we were disrespectful; she’d come from a spare-the-rod-spoil-the-child generation, and she had no problem exercising that doctrine on us when she found it necessary. Nevertheless, even Mama’s corporal punishment had never managed to tame my sister’s wild ass. I knew LaNaya would have turned out better if our father were still alive, and I was sure I would’ve turned out better too. At a minimum, I might have had healthier relationships with the opposite sex. Part of me believed the source of my issues with men came down to just missing my daddy.
We all sat at the living room table and helped ourselves to bowls of gumbo and big pieces of warm cornbread.
After dinner, LaNaya dimmed the overhead light, and Mama disappeared into the kitchen. Moments later, she came out holding a cake with two giant “3” birthday candles on top. My eyes teared as LaNaya and Mama serenaded me with a duet of “Happy Birthday.”
Mama smiled and said, “Don’t forget to make a wish, baby.”
I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. In my thirty-three years of life, I had been blessed with an exciting career and a good family. I had a beautiful home, with a closet full of designer clothes and shoes. Most material possessions were within my reach, between my salary and my two platinum credit cards.
There was only one thing missing from my life. I thought I’d found it with Deandre, but I could no longer fool myself into believing he was still mine. Whether he’d really broken up with me because of our sexual mishap or some other reason, it didn’t matter. He was gone, and I was going to have to start over again.
I blew out the candles and wished for a love of my own: a love who was genuine and true; a love who didn’t play games or hold back; a love who would bless me with a ring on my finger and a baby in my belly.
As I cut into Mama’s delicious red velvet layer cake, she said, “Just cut me a thin slice, baby—just a little taste. I’ve gotta watch my sugar intake. I’m trying my best to listen to my doctor.”
“I’m glad to hear it, Mama.”
“Well, you can help me stick to it by taking the leftover cake with you. The only temptation I need in this house is David Ruffin’s sweet voice on my Motown’s Greatest Hits CD. You remember when your daddy used to sing, ‘I’ve got sunshine, on a cloudy day…’”
I joined in, “When it’s cold outside, I’ve got the month of May…”
LaNaya, Mama and I harmonized, “Well, I guess you say, ‘What can make me feel this way?’ My girl, my girl, my girl…talkin’ ‘bout my girl! My girl!”
LaNaya riffed with, “Oooohhhh!”
We all let out big laughs.
I took a bite of the moist cake and looked at Mama. “Wow! You really outdid yourself! Homemade icing and everythi
ng?”
She nodded and said, “Of course, for the birthday girl!”
“I know I can’t top Mama’s cookin’, but I did get you a little somethin’-somethin’.” LaNaya reached under the table and held up a bottle of Hennessy Privilege.
I thanked her and smiled. I could count on one hand the number of gifts LaNaya had given me through the years, and that was, by far, the nicest and most expensive. In fact, we’d often feuded on each other’s birthdays and holidays about her abusive relationship with Javon, so I was happy this year would be different.
“I figured I owe you this much. How about a toast?”
Mama stood up and said, “You two go ahead. I’ll get started on the dishes.”
I said, “I can help, Mama.”
“No, you’re off the hook tonight. I’ve got 364 other days to take you up on that offer.” Then, with a smile, she collected a pile of plates and walked into the kitchen.
LaNaya grabbed two glasses from the middle shelf of Mama’s built-in wooden cabinets and poured each of us a shot. She lifted her glass. “I’d like to make a toast to my beautiful, smart, big-headed sister.” She grinned from ear to ear at the shocked look on my face. “Just kidding…but I meant what I said about you being smart and pretty, and you’ve finally grown into that big ol’ head. Anyway, may this be your best year yet!”
I smiled as we clinked glasses. I swallowed a bit of cognac. “Mmm,” I said.
“Glad you like it. So…what’s up with you and Deandre?”
I shrugged.
“Girl, he wasn’t all that anyway. If you’re gonna go pro, it shouldn’t be with no bench-warmer.”
“FYI, he’s been getting a lot more playing time this season.”
“Look at you, gettin’ all sensitive about your man. Deandre must really have you sprung.”
“It’s much more than that.”
“Hold up. Are you talking ‘bout the l-word?”
I nodded.
“Aw! My little sister’s in love!”
“Well…I love him, but we’re kinda broken up right now. I mean, I’m not really sure, and I think I may have—”
“What happened?”
“It’s hard to explain, but we kinda had a…misunderstanding,” I said vaguely. I didn’t want to share the gory details, especially not with Mama standing a few away in the kitchen.
“He was cheating on you?”
I shook my head.
“He was on the down-low?”
“No!”
She shrugged. “I had to ask. You can never tell with ballers. Some of them have had so many women that they get curious about men.”
“Oh God, LaNaya!”
“What? I’m just tellin’ like it is.”
“Deandre’s not like that!”
“Well, since you won’t tell me what really happened, can you at least tell me what you plan to do?”
“Right now, I’m just…playing the waiting game.”
“Screw that waiting-to-exhale shit,” LaNaya said.
Mama cleared her throat and yelled from the kitchen, “You oughtta be ashamed, usin’ language like that on the Lord’s day!” she scolded.
”Sorry, Mama,” she said. Then LaNaya giggled and whispered to me, “You oughtta at least get something on the side while you wait it out.”
I thought back to the night I’d had phone sex with Ace.
“There’s nothing wrong with it, Kai. Guys do it all the time.”
“I know, but that’s not my style.” I took another sip of cognac. “You won’t believe who I ran into the other day.”
“Who?”
“Ace.”
“Yeah? I heard he got out last month.”
“We’ll see how long it takes for him to get locked up again. Can you believe he had the nerve to ask me out?”
“People change, sis. Maybe you should give him a chance.”
“Funny. I might still be with him if you hadn’t—”
She rolled her eyes. “Girl, that was how many years ago? You need to just charge that to the game already.”
“But why did you do it? You knew he was my first, that I loved him.”
“You really wanna have this conversation right now?”
“Just tell me the truth, LaNaya.”
“To be honest, it didn’t have nothing to do with him. I…just wanted to get back at you.”
“Huh? For what?” I asked, shocked.
She took a long swig and answered, “For being so damn perfect. You had everything I wanted—an after-school job, a full college scholarship, and a hot guy. All I had was Javon, giving me black eyes. I was angry at you, angry at the whole damn world. But I’ve grown up now, and I know what I did was selfish and stupid. I’m sorry, Kai. Really.”
I touched her hand and said, “It’s okay, LaNaya. I forgive you.”
She smiled. “Thanks.”
“Are you okay?”
“Yeah, why?”
“Well, I just…worry about you. What’s really going on with this job of yours?”
“Well, if you must know, it doesn’t involve me selling my goodies or stripper poles.”
“Then what is it?”
She leaned across the table and whispered in my ear, “It’s a webcam operation, easiest money I’ve ever made.”
“Seriously?”
She nodded. “I’ll tell you more about it some other time. I gotta go pick up the kids.”
“Just promise me you’ll be careful. There are plenty of weirdoes and axe murderers online.”
“I’ll be fine.” She stood and hugged me. “Happy birthday, Kai.”
“Thanks.”
My iPhone rang as my sister walked into the kitchen and gave Mama a kiss goodbye. I opened my purse and picked it up. I was surprised to see Deandre’s name light up the screen. “Hello?” I answered cautiously.
“Happy birthday, Reese’s!”
I walked upstairs to my old bedroom for a little privacy. “Where have you been?”
“It’s a long story, but I’d like to tell you face to face.”
“I haven’t heard from you in weeks.” I sat down on the bed and looked at the wall I’d decorated years ago with magazine pictures of my favorite R&B singers, from Maxwell to D’Angelo.
“I know, and I’m sorry, but I really need to see you. Will you at least give me a chance to explain what happened?”
“You can’t just pop back into my life this way.”
“You’ve got the right to be mad at me, but please don’t throw away everything we have. Reese’s, I miss you. I need you. I love you. I’ve been thinking about you every day since I last saw you.”
“Then why’d you disappear on me?”
“If you give me chance to explain—”
“Just tell me now.”
“Please let me tell you in person. Can I see you?”
“I-I don’t know.”
“If you’d feel better about it, we can meet in public somewhere. All I ask is that you hear me out. If you don’t like what I’ve got to say, you can leave, and I won’t bother you again.”
Lord knew I needed closure with Deandre if I was ever going to move on; if I really planned to start over, I couldn’t do it with all that unfinished business hanging over my head. All of my slip-ups with Frank had taught me that much. On the other hand, if Deandre had a good reason for disappearing from my life—a damn good reason—I thought I might be willing to really forgive him and give our relationship another chance. No matter what, I had to be strong and resist his advances. I promised myself I wouldn’t give up my panties for at least a month, maybe longer. I had to make him understand that what he did was not okay. Still, resisting him wasn’t going to be easy; just the sound of his voice was making me wet.
“You still there, Reese’s?”
“Yes.”
“So does that mean you’ll meet up with me?”
“Okay.”
“That’s what I’m talkin’ ‘bout!”
>
CHAPTER 18
I rode the elevator up to the seventy-second floor of the General Motors Renaissance Center. When the doors opened, I walked into the Coach Insignia Steakhouse. The floor-to-ceiling windows offered a panoramic view of downtown Detroit and Windsor, Canada. I looked around the room and spotted Deandre sitting at a table alone.
He waved, and I made my way over to him. With each step, I was torn between running for the door and straddling him in front of all of those nicely dressed strangers. As much as Deandre had upset me, there was no denying that I was still weak for him. It had been sixty-two days since I’d last had sex. But who’s counting?
Deandre was wearing a black suit with a blue, button-down shirt, the dressiest outfit I’d ever seen him wear, even if he didn’t have a tie. He looked so sexy that I couldn’t help but grin at him. When he stood and wrapped his strong arms around me, I knew I should push him away so he wouldn’t think I was so easy, but the sensation of his muscular body against mine felt so amazing that I wanted the hug last forever.
He kissed my cheek, then pulled out the chair for me like a true gentleman. “You look real good, Reese’s.”
“Thanks,” I said and sat down.
He sat across from me, and the glow of the flickering candlelight danced on his handsome face. He looked at me for a moment and said, “I wasn’t sure you were gonna show.”
“Yeah, I know. I’m a little late.”
“It’s okay. You’re here now. That’s all that matters.”
“Now that we’re face to face, I can’t wait to hear what you have to tell me.”
“First, I wanna show you something.” He took off his suit jacket and unbuttoned his right sleeve. He pulled his shirt back, and I saw a tattoo on his arm: “REESE’S” in calligraphy, right there on his flesh forever.
I smiled a little. “When did you get that?”
“Last weekend.” He took my hand and guided it over his body ink.
I was impressed by the permanent ode to me above Deandre’s wrist, and touching him—even just his thick forearm—made me horny. It took a couple seconds for me to regain my composure and pull away. I cut my eyes and said, with all the Detroit attitude I could muster without causing a scene at the upscale restaurant, “I hope you realize that a damn tattoo ain’t gonna change shit.”
The redheaded waitress, oblivious to the drama unfolding at the table, hurried over to us and said, “Good evening, and welcome to the Coach Insignia. Did you get a chance to look at the drink menu? I’m not sure if you’re aware, but we have one of Michigan’s largest wine lists, and—”