Too Close for Comfort

by La Jill Hunt

  “Oh, okay. I was just calling to see if I can come and get my check because—”

  “What check?—You don’t have a check, Celeste.”

  “What do you mean, I don’t have a check?”

  “Celeste, a check is something you get when you come to work. You haven’t been working, so you don’t get paid.”

  “But, Yaya, you know my mother’s sick, and then we had to move a little ways out. I don’t have a car, so I can’t really get there like I want to. It’s not like I don’t want to get there.”

  “None of that is my problem, Celeste. I’m sorry.”

  “Well, can you loan or give me some money like you did before? I don’t have—”

  “No, Celeste, I’m sorry.” Yaya glanced up and saw Camille trying to act like she wasn’t listening. “I’ve gotta go.”

  “Wait, Yaya . . .”

  “What?”

  Before Taryn could hear what Celeste was saying, she took the phone out of Yaya’s hands.

  “Celeste, this is Taryn. Look, listen to me, honey—you’re fired. So unless you’re calling up here to schedule an appointment, then don’t call back—Good-bye.”

  “T, that was cold,” Yaya told her.

  Monya was tickled to death.

  Taryn put the phone down and shook her head. “That girl has issues.”

  “You don’t have to tell me,” Camille said.

  Yaya was having more fun than she’d had in a long time. She, Monya and Taryn had polished off two large pizzas, a bag of chips, and two bottles of Muscadet wine.

  “Now can we get to the point of evening?” she asked.

  Monya reached into the bowl and grabbed a handful of chips. “What’s that?”

  “Well, it seems that my girl here is having Lincoln issues.”

  “Really? I thought things were going well for you two. Do tell.”

  “I thought things were going well for us too. You know we’ve been out a couple of times, had drinks, hung out and played pool. I just assumed things were moving along nicely.”

  “And they aren’t?” Yaya took another sip of wine.

  “Apparently not.”

  Monya shrugged. “He just picked you up the other day and you went to dinner.”

  “True.” Taryn sighed.

  Yaya could see the disgusted look on her friend’s face. She knew that something had happened.

  “We go to dinner and he tells me that I’ve become one of his closest friends and how much I mean to him. He says that he can talk to me about anything and how he’s tired of living his life the way he’s been living. He knows that it’s time for him to make some serious changes.”

  “What did he mean by that?”

  “Well, it turns out that I’m not the only one Lincoln has been hanging out with.”

  “Oh, no.”

  “Yep. He’s been seeing several women, and he’s also been sleeping with them too. At this point he even has a couple of women stalking him. His cell phone was ringing so much that he wound up just cutting it off so we could talk.”

  “Wow! Did you sleep with him?” Yaya asked.

  “Girl, no. That’s the thing. All the times we’ve been out, he’s never tried to make a move on me. It’s a good thing too, because you two know me—he coulda got it, with his fine ass.”

  “Yeah, he is fine, T,” Monya agreed. “So where do you fit in all of this?”

  “He did say he was ready to change, and he knows what he wants,” Yaya told her; “that has to mean that he wants to settle down with you.”

  “I was hoping that’s where he was going, but instead, he tells me how I mean too much to him to get involved with now. I’m the only female he can talk to without their being any sexual tension between us. He cares about me too much to be in a relationship with me.”

  “Oh no, not again!” Yaya groaned.

  “T, I don’t believe this!”

  “I’m telling you,” Taryn told both of them, “it’s a curse!”

  “No. It’s because you ain’t make a move on him, Ms. Take-Your-Time-And-Get-To-Know-Him. Once they know you too much, it’s over. I’m telling you, you shoulda told him from the jump you were feeling him.” Yaya couldn’t help laughing.

  Lincoln was the hundredth guy to tell Taryn that he liked her too much as a friend to date her. It was as if she was indeed “man’s best friend,” in the literal sense. From high school, Taryn had always developed a special bond with guys she liked. They always ended up liking her as a friend, rather than a girlfriend.

  “I guess I should be glad, though. From what I gathered, Lincoln has no qualms about who he dicks down. You should hear the stories he told me. Maybe I should be happy I’m not one of his conquests.” Taryn poured herself another glass of wine.

  “His brother is probably the same way,” Yaya said. “Fine or not, that’s why I won’t get with him.”

  Monya and Taryn looked over at her.

  “What?”

  Monya smiled. “So you admit you’ve thought about Fitz, huh?”

  Taryn snapped her fingers. “I knew you liked him.”

  “No. I said he was fine; there’s a difference.”

  “I don’t care what you say—you and Fitz are made for each other. I can see it when you look at each other.” Taryn stared at her.

  “T, I could never get with him—he’s not my type at all; he’s short and light-skinned—let’s not mention the dreads, the car, the kid!”

  “We’ll see, Yaya. Fitzgerald Webster is your soul mate; time will tell.”

  Yaya shook her head in an effort to stop Taryn from talking about it any further, and to rid herself of the image of Fitz’s handsome face from her head.

  The next morning, just as she pulled into the parking lot of the salon and stepped out of her car, Yaya felt someone pulling on her arm.

  “I need to talk to you!”

  “Jason, what the hell is wrong with you?” She snatched her arm away, realizing who it was.

  “Why the hell haven’t you been returning any of my calls? And where the hell were you last night? I waited at your house until after two this morning, and you still hadn’t come home.”

  Yaya pulled the strap of her purse over her shoulder and looked at Jason like he had lost his mind.

  She walked away without answering and entered the salon. “Morning, everybody.”

  Jason was still on her heels as she continued to her office. “Don’t play with me, Yaya. You owe me an explanation.”

  “I don’t owe you anything, Jason. And you’d better get the hell outta here. How dare you come to my business and embarrass me like this?”

  “I haven’t embarrassed you . . . yet. I can’t believe you carried your ass to D.C. to do a damn freak party with Diesel instead of going with me to the retreat. Do you know how important last weekend was to me? To us?”

  “No, Jason, I don’t, because there is no more us. What the hell are you thinking?—That I’m a damn convenience woman? You don’t just call me when you wanna call me and think I’m supposed to jump—my life doesn’t revolve around you.”

  “Then, that’s the damn problem. If you’re trying to be my wife, like you say you are, then it should revolve around me. I’m supposed to be so damn important to you, remember?”

  Yaya brushed past him. Thinking he would be too afraid to embarrass himself in front of everyone, she walked back into the main area. She knew people were talking about them.

  “Come on, Jason, just leave, okay? We can talk about this later,” she said, assuredly.

  The door opened, and Fitz walked in, rolling in a dolly full of boxes. “What’s up?” he asked, winking at Yaya.

  She couldn’t help smiling back at him. In an instant she forgot about Jason standing near her.

  “Who the fuck is that?” Jason raised his voice.

  Fitz stopped dead in his tracks and turned around.

  “Jason, you need to leave now,” Yaya told him.

  “I’m not leaving until you talk t
o me.” Jason looked around and saw he had a full audience. “Ha! Travis told me all about the little freak party you did last weekend—you dancing and painting hookers, and shit—he’s got pictures too.”

  Yaya’s face got hot, and she could feel her anger rising. “Jason, leave.”

  “I see now why you opened this little salon in the hood—you ain’t nothing but a common whore your damn self. The way this nigga is looking at you, he’s probably boning your ass for a small fee.”

  The tears Yaya had been fighting rolled down her cheek.

  “Jason, that’s enough,” she could hear Monya saying. “Get out.”

  “What’s up, Mr. Delivery Guy?—You gotta pay for yours or you getting it for free, like I am?”

  Fitzgerald hit Jason so hard that it knocked him against the wall, causing the glass shelves to shatter before they hit the floor.

  Panic gripped Yaya’s heart when she saw the fear in Jason’s eyes as Fitz walked over and yanked him up. “Fitz, no!” she yelled, thinking Fitz was about to kill her ex-boyfriend with his bare hands.

  Instead, Fitz held Jason by the collar and tossed him out the door.

  Yaya ran back into her office and locked the door behind her. She was struggling to breathe.

  Moments later, there was a knock.

  “Yaya, are you okay?” Camille called out.

  In the chaos of what had just taken place, Yaya didn’t even see her. “I’m okay. I need to be alone for a while.” She sat down and cried harder than she ever had. She couldn’t believe Jason had said the things that he did. She was so hurt that she didn’t know what to do.

  There was another knock at the door.

  “I just need to be alone, please.”

  “I just want to make sure you’re okay,” Fitz called out to her. “Open the door.”

  Yaya tried to wipe her face to stop the tears from falling, but they wouldn’t. As soon as she opened the door and saw him standing there, she fell into his arms.

  “It’s all right. He’s gone.”

  She buried her face into his shoulder and allowed him to comfort her.

  “I didn’t do those things he said I did, I swear. It wasn’t a freak party. I’m not like that.”

  “Don’t worry about him. He’s not even worth worrying about.”

  “I can’t believe he said that. I loved him, and I thought he loved me. I wanted to marry him and spend my life with him,” she cried. “Now what am I gonna do?”

  Fitz put his hand under her chin and pulled her head up.

  He looked right into her eyes. “Find someone worthy of your love instead. He didn’t even deserve to have it.” He held her against his strong body once again.

  Yaya squeezed her arms around him, thinking if she let go, she would fall.

  Taryn’s words echoed in her ear as they held each other—“Fitzgerald Webster is your soul mate, time will reveal.”

  Epilogue

  “Whoooooo! Come on, Myla! Come on, Jade!” Paige cheered as her daughter’s team ran onto the field. She was just as excited as the kids were, wearing her “Proud Mom of #44” T-shirt she had made. She smiled at Nina, who wore her own “Proud Mom of #54” T-shirt.

  The crowd cheered. “Let’s go, Wildcats!”

  Paige looked around and spotted her mother and father, along with Mr. Vernon and Camille’s dad, walking toward them. She ran over and gave each of them a hug.

  “Wow! Myla and Jade have an entire cheering section.” Her father laughed as he spoke to the rest of the clan, which included Camille, Meeko, Stanley, Isaiah, Aunt Connie, and even Titus.

  Paige had to give it to him. He was one determined brother. She wished her best friend would wise up and see what a great guy he was and how much he was in love with her.

  “Marlon hasn’t made it yet?” Mr. Vernon gave Camille a big kiss.

  “Not yet. I haven’t seen or heard from him,” Camille told him.

  “He’s the one that called and told me about the game this morning.”

  “I’m sure he’ll be here shortly,” Camille told her father. “You know how Marlon is—he probably had to go hit golf balls before getting here.”

  Their attention turned back to the game. Paige cheered and clapped for her daughter and niece, surprised at how good they were. Myla even scored two goals.

  “Okay, you’re a little too excited about this,” Nina said at half-time.

  “This is the playoffs, Nina. I can’t believe that—my baby, the soccer star!”

  “Uh, I think I get to take half the credit for that,” Marlon said.

  “I don’t think so.” Paige smiled at him. “You have to be here for the entire game to get any credit.”

  “I got held up at the driving range.” He shrugged.

  Paige looked over at Camille.

  Marlon walked and kissed all the women tenderly on the forehead as he spoke to them in his usual fashion, and shook all the men’s hands. “Wow! What is this, a family reunion?”

  Camille’s cell phone began ringing. “Hello,” she answered.

  “Camille, I need you to do me a favor,” Yaya told her.

  “Sure thing. What’s up?”

  “Run to the shop, look on my desk, and you’ll see a contract for Serena Delmonico. I need for you to fax it to me immediately.”

  “Uh, how am I gonna get in? There’s no one there,” Camille reminded her.

  Taryn, Monya, and Yaya were all in LA working at the BET awards. Camille tried her best to get them to take her, but they promised she would be working right alongside them next year. She was determined to hold them to it.

  “Lincoln is there installing the new chairs, remember? Hurry and get there, so you can get in before he leaves.”

  “I’m on my way.”

  “I appreciate this, Camille; I don’t know what we’d do without you,” Yaya told her. “How’s the game?”

  “We’re winning five to nothing.”

  “Did your plan work?”

  “Uh, not yet. I don’t think so.”

  “Don’t worry, it will,” Yaya said. “Trust me.”

  Camille grabbed her Palm Pilot and entered the fax number Yaya gave her. “I will be right back. I have to run to the salon right quick.”

  Paige shook her head. “I don’t know what those girls are gonna do when you go back to school next month.”

  Camille didn’t answer. She was still waiting for the right time to let Paige and Marlon know that she had already called the university to withdraw. She hurried toward the parking lot. She got to her truck, and just as she was about to get in, she saw him standing there, watching.

  She walked over to him. “Hey, I’m glad you made it.”

  “Yeah, I am too. They are really good.”

  “I told you. How long have you been here?” She began praying that Yaya was right and her plan worked. If he had been there the entire game, he had to have seen it.

  “I’ve been here a while.”

  “Well . . . now do you believe me?”

  He looked down at her with a bashful grin. “Yeah, I saw it; you were right.”

  She smiled to herself, happy that she had gotten the nerve up to tell him what a fool he was for letting go of not only Paige, but Myla as well. She had convinced him to come to the game and see for himself how her brother kissed every female he came into contact with, the exact way he did on the picture.

  “Then why the hell are you still standing over here?”

  “Hey, watch your mouth, girl,” he teased. “I don’t know. What am I supposed to do?”

  Camille shook her head and exhaled loudly. “Walk over there, speak to everyone, and then just hold her hand—that’s all you have to do.”

  “That’s it? It’s that simple?”

  “I don’t even know why you’re trying to make it hard. Go ahead. I gotta run over to the salon and fax something to Yaya.”

  “A’ight,” he said, still standing and watching.

  “Jeez, can you go already?”
<
br />   As he walked over to join the crowd, Quincy hoped Camille was right. He wasn’t in the habit of making a fool of himself. He greeted everyone, including Marlon, who shook his hand firmly.

  Paige was so caught up in the game that she didn’t even see him. “Go, Myla. Run, baby!” She screamed.

  Quincy smiled, thinking about how much he loved and missed her. He reached out and gently took her hand into his.

  Paige was surprised at first, looking down to see what had touched her. Her eyes followed his body, from his fingers, all the way until they met his.

  He saw a smile spread across her face.

  She didn’t say anything. Just clasped her fingers around his and held on tightly.

  Myla scored again, and she jumped and screamed.

  The game was won, and she hugged him tight.

  He looked at her and kissed her tenderly. He knew everyone was watching them, including Marlon, but he didn’t care. This time, he was never letting her go.

  Camille walked inside the salon. “Lincoln! Where are you?”

  There was no answer.

  He must’ve had to run out for a second. She walked past the large empty box that used to house the new princess chair he was installing. She went into Yaya’s office and began searching for the contract. It was nowhere to be found.

  Just as she was about to call and let her know, she spotted a piece of paper lying on the floor. She leaned down to pick it up and then heard voices.

  “Why the hell are you following me around? What the hell do you want from me?” She heard Lincoln say.

  “I want you to act like you know me, for starters. You can’t just think that this is over, I’m telling you right now,” a woman replied.

  Camille remained behind the desk, listening.

  “It was never anything to begin with. Okay, we kicked it, and I hit it—so what? You act like we were together or something.”

  “You act like we weren’t together,” the female snapped.

  “Look, I don’t even know why you’re trying to play yourself out like this. I don’t even know you, and it’s obvious you don’t know me—you’re straight bananas, chick!”

  “You know me well enough to screw me a while back when we left Ochie’s. Don’t even try to fake like you don’t remember. You told me I gave the best head ever while I was going down on you in your van. You weren’t that drunk.”